//------------------------------// // Chapter twelve // Story: Weak wings and a useless unicorn. // by Sugar Moon //------------------------------// Two weeks later. Applejack lay in the west field, a warm breeze trickled over the hills and blew against her muzzle gently as she looked towards the sunset. Celestia's bronze disk seared the acres in a glorious, heavenly light that seemed to cascade down like a waterfall of sunny heat. She never got tired of looking out over her families fields. Her fields. She was the fourth generation of Apples in Ponyville and she knew as sure as sugar that she wasn't going to be the last. The Acres and the Apples would be here much longer after she had gone. Somehow that thought comforted her. That no matter how short her own existence, some part of her and of her family would endure. She even for this brief while was part of something so much bigger than herself. Comfort wasn't the only reason she liked to stay in this part of the farm. True it held the best view of the sunset as it lazily dipped below the three hills on the horizon, but the another reason for coming here was that it was the most secluded. Sweet Apple Acres was unusual for an Equestiran farm as instead of being a perfect square, the western portion stretched out, far towards the grasslands and uncultured fields that lay beyond its borders. After the western part of the Acres there was nothing for tens of miles until you reached Trottingham. While the rest of the farm was encroached by the Everfree, other farms or even Ponyville, the west remained wild and unfettered. Free as far as the eye could see. Coming here was the best place Applejack could go to let her own thoughts run as free as the west. She was trying, Celestia, she was trying to get on board with Big Mac dating Twilight, truly she was. But, there was something stopping her. Something she didn't even want to admit to herself. Darling, you know you're going to have to talk about it sooner or later. the Manehattanite voice was back again, fast becoming a constant voice of reason inside her head. Ah know, ah know Applejack answered ah just don't know what to say to her. Let's be marefriends seems awful stupid to me. Is that what we're talking about? I thought... oh nevermind we'll get back to that. Get back to wut?Aj asked internally. Nevermind that now. We'll get back to that next. Now what's this problem with Rarity. I thought this was all sorted. Granny Smith approves, you already know that your friends will be supportive of your new relationship, Rarity loves you and you love her so what's the problem? Whoa, whoa, whoa, now hold on a sec there sally. Ah never said that ah loved her. Ah just like her is all. The voice in her head didn't even bother to reply to that piece of stupidity. Opting instead to emit an almost unbearable smugness, it seemed to Applejack, with overtones of patronisation. As if it was saying. 'Of course you don't. How adorable.' Darling stop it. We both know you are just inventing problems, to avoid tackling the real issue here. One that actually could harm a few of Relationships. Oh really? An' what relationships are you inferring to miss Fancy-britches. Ah ain't that kinda mare. Applejack thought annoyed now. Really dear, do not be so obtuse. I mean not only could it hurt your budding relationship with Rarity but the current one you have with your friends and family. It's what I eluded to earlier. Your brother. You have been avoiding Macintosh for two weeks now, even your good friend Twilight has felt the cold shoulder as you purposely ignore them. They are in love and you cannot even look at them, let alone stand to be near them. You are hurting them by snubbing them. T'aint snubbing them. Just don't feel like talking to them that's all. Applejacks nose scrunches a little at the lie. You are a terrible liar Applejack Apple. I know why you are not talking to them. You cannot bear it can you? You really do think that Macintosh will hurt her. That you will end up hurting Rarity. You are afraid are you not? No.Applejack thought vehemently. She shook her head back and forth. She had heard enough, she didn't want to be here anymore, she didn't want those memories back in her head. He's not like him Applejack. The Manehattanite voice said. You are not like him Applejack. Applejack kept shaking her head as she began to silently cry. You are not like your father Applejack. Don't you dare. She impotently warned. Applejack, sugar. He's gone and you are nothing like him. You and Macintosh are- the Manehattanite voice was overridden by Applejacks internal yelling. - exactly the same. You thought the same about him once. That he wouldn't abandon us. That he would love us an' stay but you were wrong, Momma. You were wrong. It was stunned silence in Applejacks head for a while. After a few minutes, once Aj had stopped her crying her Momma's voice answered her. Darling, I know. But I'm not wrong about you or Macintosh. My children. You two are the most dependable ponies I know. Do you really think that you could hurt Rarity that way? Or that Big Mac could hurt Twilight like that? Of course not. You are my children, you hear me? Stop beating yourself up for his mistakes. You are not him. You make your own destiny in this world Darling. With Applejacks head quiet again, she looked to the setting sun. She knew that she had some apologies to make, some things to say and some ponies to see but for now she just wanted to watch the sunset. She wouldn't run from anything anymore. Back in Ponyville, in a room where one little filly slept, something was wrong. Ever since she moved into Rarity's home, her home she supposed, the nightmares had returned stronger than ever. She hadn't told anybody yet as she didn't know what to say. Scootaloo was a brave pony. Not some little chicken. She knew they were only dreams but... they still frightened her. Fast, frantic muttering broke through the fitfully sleeping fillies mouth. “No. Don't” were some of the words that managed to be clear enough to make out. But for the most it was just unintelligible. One thing was clear though. They were spoken in fear. In her dream Scootaloo was in a field miles away from anywhere. Rain plastered itself to her fur, running down in greasy driblets as it mixed with her the hot tears streaking down her face. Through the tears and the rain she could barely see anything. The sky above her was as black as pitch while forked lightening flashed through the sky in contempt at the earth, illuminating all around it. There was one thing though that the darkened sky did not hide. One thing that even the flashes of angry white scorching light could not have revealed. She didn't have to see it, she knew it were it was. There on the ground just ahead of her was a limp form. Scorched feathers floated down around the charcoaled lump, because it was a lump now. It had been something else, somepony else before it had been struck out of the sky. As Scootaloo walked ever closer to the lump its crispy flesh crackled and sizzled with the remaining heat of the lightening strike. The first thing to hit her was the smell of overcooked meat. It was not something she had every smelt before as like all ponys she only ate vegetables. This was a sickening smell of fat searing and bones melting together only to be fused by the sudden coolness. Pausing she retched. Yet she had to continue towards the lump. In her mind she called out in terror to stop herself but the dream filly did not slow instead moving inexorably towards the blackened lump. She was level with it now. Close enough to feel the remaining heat. She tentatively reached out with her right forehoof to jab the lump. When she connected it rolled over in a squelching thud. If she hadn't already been sick this sight would have made her. The squelching mass lolled showing its underside to the frightened filly. She wasn't prepared for this. No matter how many times she had the dream she was never prepared for it. It was a face. IT had belonged to her mother. One side of it was melted into the lump, the other stared outwards in terror. That lone side with its eye looked at Scootaloo. The heat of the lightening strike had evaporated the very liquid in the eye causing it to droop mournfully outwards. Scootaloo thought it was boring into her very soul with its reprehensible gaze. “No.” She whispered seemingly scared by her own words. Shaking her head to try to add conviction to her tone, to try to shake off this terrible image she looked back at her mothers face. It had shifted. Rarity's face now looked at her. Screaming she woke up, drenched in sweat.