//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: We Apples, Three // by 8686 //------------------------------// As dusk settled in and marshmallows were toasted, Applejack announced it was time for a ghost story. "A real spine-tingler." She looked hopefully at her brother. "Ya got any Big Mac?" Big Macintosh thought for a moment. Telling a frightening story to scare his sisters wasn't really what he was about. He'd much rather they were happy. But he then looked up and saw that Apple Bloom and Applejack were sat together, Apple Bloom cosying up close to her older sibling while Applejack hugged her with a foreleg about her withers. Both were looking at him excitedly. Reluctantly, he took a breath. He only knew one ghost story. Still, if it was what his sisters wanted... "Okay," he made his voice as close to an approximation of 'scary' as he could. He hoped he'd got it right, "I've heard...that in these very woods...lives a creature who preys on lost ponies...a creature so terrifyin' that nopony who's seen it has ever been heard from again..." he paused for effect. "The Headless Horse!" The shocked gasps from both of his sisters...never came. In fact they both appeared strangely nonplussed by a concept as inherently spine-chilling as the headless horse. Bored, even? That was odd. When he'd first heard the tale as a young colt, he remembered it being very scary indeed. He was telling it right, wasn't he? "Uh, Big Mac...?" Applejack began "Aw, I've heard that one before!" Apple Bloom complained. "...more'n once." Applejack finished. "Don't ya have any others?" Big Macintosh deflated. He had let his sisters down. They'd been counting on their big brother to spellbind them with a terrifying, visceral horror to quicken the pulse and chill the blood, and all he'd been able to muster was a tired fable older than the hills. He shrugged, defeated and unable to meet the disappointed stares of his family. "Nope," he said weakly. "All right then. I've got a real hoof-biter for y'all," said Applejack, standing without missing a beat. She took a step back from the fire, casting her face into half-shadow. Her expression became a scowl and when she spoke next she didn't sound like the Applejack he knew. Instead her voice was low, gravelly, and menacing. "I'm gonna tell ya'll about the legend...of the Mare Witch. She's supposed to have lived in these here woods for as long as anypony can remember. Except nopony's ever seen her. Exactly a year ago this very night, three ponies came searchin' for her. A week later, their torn saddlebags were found not far from here, a few tattered scrolls of frantic hoof-writing inside. What happened to the ponies, no-one knows to this day. But this is what was on those scrolls..." Big Macintosh felt movement at his side, and when he looked down he saw that Apple Bloom had zipped around the fire to be next to him. She cuddled up close to his side and wrapped both forelegs around one of his. He smiled down at her and she smiled back up at him before focusing her attention back to the sinister, raspy-voiced storyteller that seemed to have taken the place of their sister. Big Macintosh listened with fascination while Applejack relayed the tale of the Mare Witch, and what had apparently become of the lost ponies a year ago. He had no idea she had talent as a narrator – she relayed the story with such conviction and nuance that she successfully created the atmosphere of creeping dread she had to have been aiming for. There were some absurd logical fallacies he noted, but there always were with ghost stories, and she tried to lampshade the worst of them. As the story approached a climax set in some remote log cabin which was – of course – said to be close by, and the fates of the three ponies looked increasingly grim, Big Macintosh noticed Apple Bloom becoming more and more nervous. She was pressing as close to him as possible and he could feel his little sister's pulse racing. He expected her to have her eyes shut tight, but when he glanced down she was transfixed – unable to tear her terrified gaze from Applejack's half-illuminated rictus. With every word of the story, her breaths became shallower and more ragged. Reaching his foreleg out and around his youngest sister, Big Macintosh hugged her close. Almost at once she stopped shaking, her breathing became more regular, and he felt her tense muscles relax slightly. It didn't stop her letting out a squeak of terror as Applejack reached an implicitly grisly – but suspiciously unspecific – crescendo, but she hugged back against him and seemed to calm. "...an' none of them were ever heard from again." Applejack dipped her head so that her face was hidden beneath her hat, and stepped back towards the fire. When she lifted it again it was as though a transformation had taken place – gone was the sinister scowl and gravelly voice of the story-teller, replaced by the warm smile of the happy sister he'd always known and loved. Apple Bloom was on her – rather shakey – hooves in an instant, racing to Applejack and almost bowling her over. "That was an amazin' story sis!" she said, with just a slight tremble to her voice as the adrenaline rush died. She nuzzled Applejack's neck, and the gesture was returned. "Aw, shucks," Applejack blushed a little, "Hope it weren't too frightenin' for ya'll." "Nah," Apple Bloom declared, her confidence returning. "I wasn't scared at all. Besides, I had Big Macintosh protectin' me." "Yep," said Applejack, giving her brother a wink, "If I was that Mare Witch, I'd be mighty worried if I stumbled into our camp with Big Mac around!" Big Macintosh nodded back. "Ya certainly tell a mighty fine tale, AJ," he began. Then, keeping his expression carefully neutral, he ventured, "Maybe you should write your own someday." Applejack did a quick double take. So fast that had Big Macintosh not been looking for it, it would have gone completely unnoticed. She glanced at him with suspicion for a split-second, but Big Mac's poker face was perfect. The moment was about to pass safely, when Apple Bloom drove a train through it. "Oh! She is! Didn't you know? Applejack's writin' a super awesome amazin' novel!" Both Big Macintosh's and Applejack's jaws hit the floor as they stared, wide-eyed at their youngest sibling. Apple Bloom for her part was grinning and bouncing on the spot, her injured leg seeming to give her no grief. Applejack couldn't seem to get her words out. "H-how...how do you...?" "Scootaloo told me," replied Apple Bloom, voice now full of excitement. "She said Rainbow Dash told her you were writin' a novel when they went cloud surfing. I can't wait to read it, but I've looked everywhere an' I can't find it!" Apple Bloom hadn't noticed that Applejack was fuming, but Big Macintosh had. She was glaring at a neutral point somewhere on the ground and muttering quietly through tightly clenched teeth. He caught "Rainbow Dash", "her mouth shut" and "what's good for her!" He could guess the rest, including the curses. Then she suddenly looked up at him and fixed him with such an angry stare that he flinched where he sat. "You." It was an accusation. "You knew too! Does the whole dang town know!?" Big Macintosh knew he hadn't done anything wrong. He knew that objectively he had no need to defend himself. But there was something about that accusing glare, that look of betrayal on Applejack's face, that made him feel guilty. He held up a forehoof, recognising the defensive gesture for what it was, but began in his usual tone, slow and methodical. "I didn' hear about it from any of yer friends, AJ. I was cleanin' when I stumbled across a notebook in your writin'. It had a title and 'by Applejack' on, and ya don't keep a diary, so I just put two and two together and put it back." He deliberately left out details like where he'd found it and what the title was for Apple Bloom's sake. If Applejack didn't want her sister to know, well, he thought that was sad, but it was her choice. Applejack still didn't look convinced though, prompting him to add, "I didn't read it. Not one word." "Why not?" asked Apple Bloom innocently, still quite oblivious to the minefield she was in. "And where'd you find it? C'mon Big Mac, I wanna read it!" Applejack couldn't contain her anger any longer and she snapped. "And why in the hay would you wanna read it huh? Wanna make fun? Fancy a good laugh at yer sister's expense!?" No sooner had the words left her mouth than she wished more than anything that she could take them back. But it was too late. The damage was done. Apple Bloom's bouncing ceased and she stared, terrified, at Applejack. Then her face crumpled. She began to well up and large, silent tears formed in her eyes. Big Macintosh gawped in shock. He couldn't recall Applejack ever having an outburst like that. Not to anypony. He closed his eyes and shook his head, disappointed. Applejack for her part stared at the ground like a dog that had just been scolded, her anger evaporating in an instant. Big Macintosh took a long breath. Telling off his sister was not something he enjoyed doing, but on rare occasions it was necessary. Before he could begin his reprimand though, he was beaten to the punch by the young filly who was now sobbing uncontrollably. "N-no, A-Applejack, I didn't mean it like that," she begged, "I...just heard you were writin' a story, an' I got really excited, an' I...just...wanted to read it." She sniffed. "I don't understand, sis," she pleaded, looking at Applejack with wide, tear-filled eyes, "Why...would I make fun of you?" The question was so innocent that Applejack winced, and threatened to well up as well. She'd lost her temper and yelled at her sister, and why? Because she wanted to read a story. Because she honestly believed that just because her sister had written something, it'd be the best work of fiction ever penned. Why did she deserve to be shouted at for that? For the second time in two days, Big Macintosh saw both his sisters miserable and at a loss for words. He suddenly didn't feel a whole lot like giving Applejack the dressing down he'd prepared. Instead he adopted a softer tone and turned to Apple Bloom. "I reckon it's–" but Applejack raised a hoof, cutting him off. Applejack took a deep breath and with great difficulty, looked at her young sister. She concentrated hard on keeping her voice steady. "I'm so sorry Apple Bloom. I didn't mean to yell just now. I'm just...I'm a mite embarrassed about it. Afraid too, I guess. I just don't want anypony to read it." She was blushing a little and began absently digging at the ground with one hoof, but managed to hold her little sister's gaze. "But why? Rainbow Dash let Scootaloo read her story," Apple Bloom pouted. Applejack snorted. "Dash shows off her 'novel' to everypony who'll sit still. It's five paragraphs long!" Applejack said dryly. "Plus, 'awesomest' ain't a real word, and she uses it in the first–!" Applejack caught herself. She shook her head and turned back to her sister. "See, this is the sort of thing I mean. I don't want ponies to say cruel things about what I've written. I'd just rather it went ignored." She paused and met Apple Bloom's gaze again. "But that don't mean I was right to lose my temper. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm sorry. Can ya forgive me?" Apple Bloom was at a loss. She'd never had Applejack ask her for forgiveness before. It was always supposed to be the other way round. She fidgeted, not knowing what to do, and suddenly aware of a huge burden on her shoulders. As she shifted her weight she felt her bandage rub on her hindleg – still as tight and comfortable as when her older sister had tied it earlier. Those memories came flooding back on a wave of emotion and all she could think of was just how lucky she was to have Applejack to take care of her, and how afraid she was of losing her. She ran to her sister and hugged her as hard as she could. "I'm sorry sis, I didn't mean to make you mad. I promise, I won't ever read your story." "Uh...I think we got turned around there somewhere. I'm the one whose apologisin', sugarcube." Applejack put a hoof under Apple Bloom's chin and gently raised it, so that she was looking into her eyes. "You've done nothin' wrong." She felt a tear escape down her cheek. A whispered "Okay..." was all Apple Bloom could muster in reply. The conversation may not have been conclusive, but they both instinctively knew that the fight was over. Not for the first time that day, Applejack looked up to find Big Macintosh sat a little way off, giving them space. He had a lonely gaze fixed on the stars high above. "Well, I reckon we've had enough drama fer one day," she said, loud enough for him to hear. "Whaddya say? Time to hit the hay?" "Eeyup.” He smiled back at them. Unfortunately, the day had one last sting in its tail. The fire was doused with dirt and Big Macintosh made a short trip down to the lake to re-fill their canteens, leaving his sisters to retire to their tent. No sooner had he reached the shore than he heard a sharp scream from Apple Bloom and a frightened "Whoa, Nelly!" from Applejack. Dropping the flagons he galloped back to the campsite and was relieved to see both his sisters safely stood several feet away, staring at their tent with eyes that were wide with fear. Worryingly, he also noticed a low growl and a shuffling noise coming from within the tent itself. He stepped protectively in front of Applejack – who was herself already stood in front of Apple Bloom – and regarded the tent. He couldn't see into it since the flap had fallen closed, but there was definite movement inside. From behind him, Applejack spoke up. "A wild boar. One of the biggest gosh darn wild boars I've ever seen, just lyin' there right in the tent. Whew! Gave us one heck of a start." "I don't think he wants to leave," Apple Bloom offered. "Oh, he's leavin' alright. He just don't know it yet." Unfortunately, Applejack was about to be proved correct. At that moment, whether spooked by the disembodied voices from outside the tent, or by something it had discovered inside, the lost wild boar began shrieking and squealing. Not seeing a way out of its green-hued prison, it proceeded to begin tearing the tent apart in a desperate panic. Sharp tusks tore through canvas, wooden tent poles snapped in twain and the tent billowed and collapsed on the hysterical creature, sending it into a new level of frenzied destruction. Relying now purely on the instinct to flee, the boar took off running, and when it reached the limits that the canvas would allow, it kept going. Tent pegs were pulled from the ground, guide ropes snapped, and the boar – tent and all – took off running desperately into the woods. The three ponies just stood there, stunned, as the shrieks faded into the distance. "Maybe snuck in while we were swimmin'", Big Macintosh eventually thought aloud, "or listenin' to yer story." There was another silence before Applejack spoke. "Our saddlebags are in there. Our supplies." "Nothin' that can't be replaced, AJ," he said, nudging her meaningfully. And then, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, he carried on, "No point searchin' for it out in the dark. It's gone." Applejack looked at him defiantly, prompting him to reiterate, "It's gone, AJ. I ain't gonna let ya go wanderin' off in the woods all alone in the pitch dark." For a moment Applejack looked ready to argue, but then she paused just long enough for common sense to prevail. She sighed. "We'll try and find it in the morning," Big Macintosh consoled. "Till then, you'd both best take my tent tonight. I can sleep out here." "Don't be silly big brother, there's plenty room in yer tent for all of us! It's gonna be cold tonight." "Don't seem proper to–" "I said don't be silly, Big Mac." Apple Bloom walked up to him, still a little shaken up. "You are stayin' in the tent with us, aren't you?" Big Macintosh relented. He didn't really have a choice, did he? Drawing back the flap to his tent, he allowed his two sisters inside. He paused at the threshold, looking back into the woods. He held his breath and listened, eyes searching the inky blackness of the forest. Nothing. No movement. No sound except the chill breeze through the trees. Applejack's head reappeared at the tent flap, following Big Macintosh's gaze into the night. "Somethin' up?" she whispered. Satisfied, Big Mac turned away from the woods. "Nope." "Then get yer flank in here where it's warm." And with that she disappeared back inside. A moment later he followed. 'Warm' was a relative term, the cold night air having long since penetrated the tent. Since his sisters’ sleeping bags were now lost in the forest somewhere, Big Macintosh opened his own out as far as possible to serve as a makeshift mattress. Applejack and Apple Bloom huddled down together for warmth with Big Macintosh himself curled protectively around them, doing what he could to shelter them both from the bitter chill. There wasn’t quite enough room for him on the sleeping bag too, and he half lay on the cold ground sheet, but that was alright. As he lay there feeding warmth to his two younger sisters, doing his part to keep them comfortable and safe, Big Macintosh was overcome with a feeling of contentment. He resolved to stay awake at least until his sisters had fallen asleep themselves and listened happily as they drifted off, their breathing becoming soft and regular. He smiled. This was his job. Had he known or believed that there was any danger out in the woods, Big Macintosh would not have slept at all. He would have faithfully stood watch over his family the whole night through. But he had ventured and travelled Whitetail enough times to know it was safe; that there were no vicious creatures or other dangers in the forest. The boar might well have been startling, but it was just a lost creature looking for a place to sleep – its actions borne of fear, not malice – and it was never a real threat. So, once he was certain that his sisters were safely asleep, he slowly lowered his head and closed his eyes. After the events of the day sleep came as quickly to him as it had seemed to for his kin. He dreamt. Oddly enough, he knew he was dreaming from the outset, despite how otherwise normal and mundane the dream itself was. He was walking through the woods next to his two sisters, exactly as he had done earlier in the day. Every so often he would point something out or make an observation about berries, but his sisters never seemed to pay him any mind. He noticed that every time, he seemed to fade a little – to become a little more insubstantial until he could barely see or feel himself at all. Eventually, he was just a disembodied presence floating through the woods alongside his family. Always there, never noticed. He felt the dream ending, words and colours becoming more distant and echoey. Apple Bloom said something about having a brother, once, and then they were both gone. Big Macintosh awoke slowly. He guessed he had only been asleep for an hour, two at most since it was still well dark outside. He noticed that in his sleep he had curled up closer around Applejack, who herself had curled up around Apple Bloom so that the filly was nestled snugly between them. They were both still fast asleep and he looked down at them now, seeing them at peace. The two most important ponies in the world. They were both so different, but when they were happy together it was like the whole world lit up a little. Apple Bloom. Energetic, enthusiastic, perpetually cheerful and infused with a boundless optimism he could only respect. He smiled at the memory of the "Cutie Mark Crusader Alligator Wrestlers!" which last week had involved a trio of fillies wrestling with Pinkie Pie's pet alligator and – for reasons he didn't quite understand – Pinkie Pie herself, in an alligator costume. He smiled again. Someday soon, Apple Bloom would get what she wanted most in the world – her cutie mark. And when she did she would find out that it wasn't the destination that mattered so much as how you got there. And what a journey she'd had! He turned to Applejack. His eldest sister, with whom he’d grown up. He had very few memories from the time before Applejack was born, and none of them stood out as being anything other than mundane. By contrast he could recall every detail of the day his first sister had come into the world. He still counted it as the happiest day of his life, and always would. He shared so many memories with her. Most of them happy, some sad, and it was only by being there for each other that they had both come through those dark times. She was strong, confident – stubborn! – reliable, and independent. He felt a familiar pang of sadness at that last thought, and turned his thoughts to it. Ever since they'd been foaled, he had been there for his sisters. As they'd grown he'd always done his best to watch over and protect them; to be the big brother he was supposed to be. But for a while now he had gradually been coming to the realisation that he wouldn't be needed forever. In fact if he was honest with himself, he probably wasn't needed even now. Certainly Applejack didn’t need watching over or protecting any longer, and he couldn’t think of anything he could do for Apple Bloom that Applejack hadn’t proved to be better at – be it organising camping trips, bandaging wounds, or teaching her about the great outdoors. He hadn’t even been able to tell a simple ghost story properly. And these were just the examples from today. If he wasn't needed, what use was he? He only had one job after all. Carefully, making sure not to disturb either of his resting siblings, he stood and quietly made his way out of the tent. He wandered down to the moonlit lake, where the only sound was the gentle lapping of water against the shore. Sitting carefully, he looked mournfully up at the stars and thought. He thought about Applejack and all of the things they'd used to do together. Then he thought of all the things she had used to ask him for, or need him for. He couldn't think of one thing she still needed him for now. As for Apple Bloom, she was closer to Applejack than to him. And that was only a good thing, because by his reckoning, Applejack was doing more for Apple Bloom than he could ever remember himself doing for Applejack. She was such a good sister. They both were. He smiled a faint, sad smile. His job was complete wasn't it? He was supposed to take care of his family, and he had succeeded. He should be happy. He closed his eyes and searched for that familiar feeling of satisfaction and relief that came from a job well done, but for some reason it was strangely elusive. He tried again, tried to make himself feel it, but instead he felt only suffocating melancholy. "Big Mac?" Applejack's voice was barely more than a whisper, but full of concern. She walked quietly up to him from behind and sat down by his side, never once taking her eyes off his face. Her hat had apparently been left in the tent, and her mane hung loose. "Big Mac, what's wrong? Why're you crying?" He hadn't realised he had been. He looked down at Applejack and only then felt the tears begin to flow. He blinked them back and smiled disarmingly. Applejack just fixed him with those emerald eyes of hers, a genuinely worried expression on her face. He could have said nothing. He could have said he was fine. He could have made something up. It wouldn't have helped. Applejack would have persisted until she got the truth one way or another. And he couldn't lie to his family. He took a breath and looked back at his little sister. "I've watched you do a lot of growin' up these past few seasons, AJ." He smiled. "You've turned into the most responsible, dependable pony I can think of. You've got some swell friends to go off havin' fun with, you handle the farm better than I ever did, and you take such good care of your sister that she looks at ya like you're made out of solid gold." He felt his eyes slip from her gaze and turned to stare out over the lake. "Reckon ya'll don't need me anymore, that's all." "Oh, big brother." Applejack was welling up herself, though she made a valiant effort to fight off the tears. She put a hoof on her brother's shoulder. "Of course we still need ya. "I can remember when I was Apple Bloom's age. I can remember how lucky I felt knowing my big brother was always lookin' out for me. That whenever I really needed him, he was always there. I just want Apple Bloom to look up to me the same way I looked up to you. The way I still look up to ya..." Tears came to his sister's eyes, and she slowly put her forelegs around him and hugged him close, nuzzling into his neck. "I may not need ya to get the cookie jar down off’a the high shelf anymore, but I still need ya, big brother." Big Macintosh reached out for Applejack and hugged her back. To his surprise she took a shaky breath and carried on. "I know I've been real lucky these last few years. I've made some special friends who mean the world to me, the farm's doing real well, the family's happy...but I ain't naive. I know it won't likely last forever. Sooner or later some hard times'r gonna come my way. Suppose I should be worried about it, but I'm not. Because I know that no matter how bad things get, no matter how big a mistake I make or how hard I fall, my big brother is always gonna be there for me, and he's gonna make everything okay." She looked up at him, reverence clear in her eyes. "Just like he always does." They sat there, still, silent, for a long while. They looked out over the lake, watching the moonlight play across its surface, listened to the gentle sound of it lapping the shore. "Applejack? Big Mac? What's wrong?" It was the most innocent question, asked in the softest voice you could imagine. For the second time that evening, Big Macintosh turned to see one of his sisters having snuck up on him with an expression of genuine worry. He couldn't take much more of this. He was already crying. Wasn't that enough? It was Applejack who spoke, though. "It's okay Apple Bloom. Big Mac an' I were just reminiscin'." But rather than tell her not to worry and go back to the tent, as the filly expected, instead she released Big Macintosh from the hug, and extended a foreleg out to her sister, inviting her in. "Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly lost my leg?" Big Macintosh gave a faint snort, a tiny smile, and looked back out to the lake. Applejack just smiled at his reaction and continued. "This was not long after you were foaled, an' I was about your age. Big Macintosh and I were in the farmhouse, an' we were having the most fierce fight ya ever did see." She paused and put a hoof under her chin thoughtfully. "Can't recall what it was about..." she shot a hopeful glance over at her brother, who just shook his head and shrugged. "Don't matter. Anyhow, I didn' get things my own way, so I yelled that I never wanted to see him again and I stormed out. I galloped all across the farm in such a rage until I ended up not far from my clubhouse...uh...your clubhouse as is now. "There was an old rickety fence there, half rotten, and I can remember feelin' so mad that I just wanted to smash somethin' to pieces. So I bucked it. And I missed. Got a length of wood this big skewered right into Kicks McGee," she waggled her right hindleg in demonstration, "an' I fell to the floor like a sack o' carrots. "I was in so much pain I was cryin'. I was a long way from the house, and I couldn't walk cuz it hurt so bad. I felt so wretched. I thought nopony cared about me and nopony knew where I was, so then I cried some more. And that's when I heard the sound of the fastest hoofbeats there ever were. My big brother came galloping up like his tail was on fire, callin' out my name. He found me o'course. He knew where I was gonna be even before I did. He sat me down, pulled that chunk of wood right out of my leg, and patched me up. Just like that", she pointed at the bandage on Apple Bloom's own leg. "Then he hugged me tight, and I felt so safe right then. But I said that I didn't understand why he came lookin' for me. That I thought he was mad at me. And I'll never forget what he said back." "'I'm yer brother, sis. I love ya. And I'm always gonna be there for ya.'" Applejack looked up as her brother spoke, quoting himself from the past. Fresh tears were in his eyes now. She smiled and gave a slow nod. "Then he put me on his back and carried me the whole way back to the house, just cuz he didn' want me hurtin'." She looked down at Apple Bloom. "I realised then that Big Macintosh is the best big brother a pony could ever want or have.” Then, suddenly serious, she fixed her sister with a meaningful gaze. “And you an' me are the only two ponies in the whole world who'll ever know that." Apple Bloom was still looking at Applejack, but her face was a mask of concentration. There was something odd about the story she couldn't put her hoof on. She scrutinised 'Kicks McGee' suspiciously. "Big Macintosh bandaged your leg up huh? Just like this?" "Yup!" Replied Applejack, instantly returning to a lighthearted demenour. She had a good idea where this was going already. She glanced at Big Macintosh, noticing the corners of his mouth turned up into the faintest of smiles. "An' you were fine?" "Uh...yep?" She waggled her hindleg again as proof. "And...this piece of wood that nearly took your leg off. It was how big?" "Oh...well, about yay..." She held her hooves out about two feet apart. Slightly wider than earlier, Apple Bloom noted. "It sure was a biggie. Felt like my leg was gonna fall clean off." Big Macintosh cleared his throat, right on cue, and reached out to his sister's outstretched hooves. Pressing on them gently, Applejack let him slowly bring them together until they were about two inches apart. They shared a laugh. Big Macintosh muttered something good naturedly about how Applejack was 'supposed to be the honest one.' "So, you didn't have a possibly terrible crippling injury. You just had a splinter?" "Apple Bloom, the size of it ain't what's important. What's important is that when I was down and hurtin', and I thought nopony in the world cared about me, Big Mac was there. Just like he always is. And just like he'll always be for you too. He's the best big brother in the world, and we are so, so lucky to have him." "But I know that already." Apple Bloom spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Had it really taken her older sister that long to work something out she'd known on day one? Applejack was looking at her like she expected her to elaborate, so she continued, "That Mare Witch of yours sure was scary, sis. I don't think I coulda listened to it all without Big Macintosh with me. And then that boar gave me such a fright, I don't think I ever could have slept without him bein' there with us." Applejack gave Big Macintosh an I told you so look. Big Macintosh had finally managed to compose his features into his careful, neutral expression. "He sure does have a way of makin' ya feel safe, don't he?" She paused, searching her brother's face, but he was unreadable. "I'm gonna tell ya one more story. About the first time Big Macintosh took me adventurin'. Before you were born, back when I was even younger than you and Big Macintosh was a little older, he took me exploring in Old Hollows Cave." Big Macintosh's eyes went wide for a moment, and a look of pure surprise fleetingly crossed his face. He looked down at Applejack. "Old Hollows Cave?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Ya still remember that?" Applejack just grinned. "Eeyup!" "Old Hollows Cave..." Apple Bloom repeated. The phrase 'spelunking cutie-mark' had entered her head and refused to leave. But there was a problem somewhere. "I've never heard of it. Where is it?" Applejack and Big Macintosh shared a look. "It's under Granny Smith's bed." Big Mac deadpanned. Applejack almost cracked up. "Oh, the danger! Oh the peril!" She brought a foreleg to her forehead, doing her best Rarity imitation. "Why, we were lost in that cave for hours, avoiding deadly quick-dust traps and shoebox rockslides. It was dark and smelly, and there were booby-traps everywhere, but I wasn't scared. I knew I was gonna be okay because I had my big brother with me keeping me safe. "But then, all of a sudden, we were attacked by the biggest darn cave-snake I've ever seen!" "One of Granny Smith's old long-socks," Big Macintosh explained. "Oh, It was terrifyin'. I'll never forget its round, toothless mouth, its skin all pink with grey stripes–" "Grey, with pink stripes..." Big Macintosh rebutted. "–and it was comin' straight for me! I thought I was a gonner, but then Big Mac jumped in front of me and fought it off and saved my life. Oh, he was so brave!" "Hold on. You were attacked...by a sock?" "Snake," Applejack and Big Macintosh said together, a little defensively. "And then we found the treasure and Big Mac found the way out of the cave and we escaped together." "Um...treasure?" asked Apple Bloom, quirking an eyebrow. "S’always treasure ain't there?" said Big Macintosh, like it was obvious. "That's why you go explorin' in caves, to find the treasure," confirmed Applejack. "As it happens, it was one of Granny Smith's old shiny buttons." She looked at her brother, suddenly serious. "I still have it y'know. Always kept it safe. That silly button means a lot to me." "I just...can't believe you remember it at all. Was just a silly game we played once." Applejack shook her head. "It was the first time we really did somethin' together. I couldn't forget that. And after, I reckon we did pretty much everythin' together, you an' me. Like we weren't just brother and sister, we were best friends too." She cast her gaze downwards. "Guess we ain't done much that ain't work for a while now, and I don't rightly know why, but that's why I wanted us all to come out here. To fix that. I never meant for you to feel like you weren't needed, brother. You are." Big Macintosh just put his hoof on Applejack's shoulder. "You're a swell sister, AJ. Don't ever change." Long moments passed in silence, until Applejack decided that at some point there was going to need to be some action. "Well, we'd better head on back to bed. What was I sayin' earlier on? Somethin' about this day havin' too much drama in it already?" Big Macintosh glanced at the sky. "Reckon it's tomorrow, now." They chuckled a little and headed back to the tent to sleep the rest of the night in peace.