It started over dinner. Just as Big Macintosh passed the corn to Granny the door opened and he looked up to see a certain filly walk in, late as she could be.
“Apple Bloom!” Applejack said from across the table. “Where have you been? It’s half past supper time and you ain’t even done your chores yet!”
The filly slowly closed the door and stepped forward into the kitchen. Mac’s eyebrows raised when he saw the dirt and mud in her yellow coat and the pink bow missing from her tangled, red mane.
“I’m... I’m sorry, Applejack,” she said, looking away from her sister and rubbing at her lip where it was split.
“Good heavens, Sugarcube, what happened to you? Are you okay?” Applejack asked.
“I’m okay. I um...” Apple Bloom shifted on her feet. Then she mumbled something that Mac couldn’t catch. But while he missed it, Applejack didn’t.
“You what?!” she cried, getting up from the table so fast her Stetson fell from where it had been perched on the top of her head. She trotted over and scowled down at the filly. “What happened!? Who was it with!?”
Mac put down his fork and looked at Granny. He met the old mare’s eyes and she shrugged before shoveling more corn onto her plate from the bowl he’d passed her. Mac stared at her for a moment before realizing that after raising children and grandchildren this likely wasn’t the first time she’d seen one of them come home dirty and with a busted lip.
“I was with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom said. “We were walking back from school, just minding our own business and talking about how to get our cutie marks, when this colt comes up and... and...”
“And what?”
“And tells me I smell like a pig!”
“And then?”
“And then I hit him.”
“You-you hit him?! Because he said you smell like a pig?" Applejack shook her head. "Apple Bloom! I know we taught you better than that!”
“But that ain’t the first time he’s done it! It’s every day! And he keeps making these pig jokes at me during school!”
“That ain’t an excuse to hit anypony! We can talk to his parents or your teacher if he's giving you trouble. And where were you after that? Fightin’ don’t take all day, little filly. Why didn’t you come home on time?”
The filly hung her head. “I... I didn’t want to...”
“What? Why not?”
“Because he’s right! I do smell like a pig!”
“What are you talkin’ about, Sugarcube?”
“I asked Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo! They said he was right! They said that I smell like the farm!”
“What’s that got to do with coming home on time?”
“Because I don’t wanna smell like a pig! I don’t want everypony laughing at me in class!”
Applejack was pacing now, moving back and forth across the kitchen at a quick pace as she spoke. “So you think you can get in a fight at school and then not come home just because you smell a little like the farm?! I’ve got half a mind to make you do your chores and then send you to bed without supper!”
Apple Bloom mumbled something.
“What was that?” Applejack asked, stepping closer to her sister.
Apple Bloom stomped her hoof on the floor. “I said I don’t wanna do my chores! I don’t wanna smell!”
“Listen here, little filly. Your chores are important to the farm and-”
“I don’t care! I hate this stupid, smelly, ugly farm!”
Mac’s eyebrows came together at her insult. He glared at her and slowly stood from the table.
“Now you listen here,” he said, walking up to her. “We work hard to make sure this farm provides for the family, which includes you. So by insulting the farm, you’re insulting me and AJ and Granny and even yourself. I know it don’t feel good to get made fun of, but that ain’t an excuse for fightin’ and insultin’ your family. Now, seeing as how you was late, I already finished most of your chores for you, so go wash up, finish the rest, and then you can have supper. After that we’ll talk about this.”
She glanced up to meet his eyes but immediately dropped her gaze.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
Slowly, in a shaky voice that began low but rose in volume as she spoke, she said, “You’re not my Pa... You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Apple Bloom!” Applejack cried out.
Apple Bloom rounded on her. “And you’re not my Ma!”
Mac’s eyebrows squeezed together so tightly he thought they might have become one. His hoof hit the hardwood floor with a loud crack and Apple Bloom jerked back a few steps, her ears to slamming down on her head.
He pointed towards the stairs. “Go.”
Apple Bloom just stood there, her angry eyes flitting between his own and somewhere off behind him every second or two, unable to meet his gaze.
“You heard your brother,” Applejack said. “Go on up to your room and think about what you’ve done.”
Apple Bloom looked from Mac to Applejack and back.
“Go on,” Mac said.
She turned away and just loud enough for him to hear, said, “I hate you.”
His heart fell as an old memory exploded to the forefront of his mind.
“I hate you,” Mac said to the stallion hooked up to the plow. He gave the metal a futile kick that did nothing but sting his hoof and then stormed off across the field and past the house, leaving the farm completely.
The anger drained from him like water down a rainspout. He looked at his little sister. It wasn’t what she’d said that triggered the memory. It was how she’d said it. She hadn't shed any tears nor had she yelled and ran off like the other times in the past. She'd just stated it, as if it were fact, before slowly walking off. Almost like she’d meant it. He fell back onto his haunches and his eyes followed her as she walked across the room and started up the stairs.
“Mac?” Applejack asked from beside him. “Mac are you alright?”
He looked at her and said, “I think it’s time, AJ.”
“Time for what?”
Ignoring her he turned back to his other sister. When he spoke his voice was stern, but calm. “Apple Bloom. You come on back down here.”
She stopped halfway up the stairs with one hoof held in the air as she looked down at him. “What for? So you can yell at me again?”
“Bloom... I reckon it’s time I told you how I got my cutie mark.”
Her face softened and after a moments hesitation she turned around and trotted down the steps.
“Come with me,” he said, turning and walking towards the back door.
Granny rose from the table as he passed. “I’ll put some more tea on.”
“I’ll help ya’, Granny,” Applejack said, trotting over and helping the old mare around the table. She looked at Mac before he left and said, “I’ll clean up everything in here. You take as much time as you need, okay?”
Mac nodded in thanks and led his little sister outside into the dying light. Together they made their way across the farm. In the distance a single cicada sang out its lonely song, a rattling buzz that rose in pitch and held steady for several seconds before fading away, only to start again a moment later. Neither spoke, and other than the cicada’s call the only sounds were the slow, heavy clop of his own hooves alongside the quick patter of hers as they trotted along.
They came to the top of a small hill on the outskirts of the farm and Mac lay down in the grass. Sweet Apple Acres spread out before him, running from the hill they were on out to where the apple trees blocked the horizon far in the distance. Bending down, he bit off a long stalk of grass and then turned to Apple Bloom as she sat beside him. Even on his stomach his head still rose above hers and her orange eyes looked up to meet his. He chewed on the grass for a few moments before speaking.
“You see this?” he asked, sweeping his hoof in front of him. “This ain’t just a farm. It ain’t just dirt and grass and apple trees. It’s my home. It’s our home. You know?”
“I know...” Apple Bloom said.
“Somethin’ tells me you think you know, but you don’t really know,” he said.
She opened her mouth to retort but he added, “And that’s okay. I didn’t know it myself for a good while. Not until I got this,” he reached back and tapped the green apple on his flank.
“Does this have somethin’ to do me fighting?” she asked. “I know I shouldn’t have... but I was just so mad!” she stomped a hoof on the ground.
Chuckling, Mac rolled over onto his side and lay his head down in the grass. Looking up at her he said, “Eeyup. But not that kind of fighting.”
“What other kind of fighting is there?” she asked, lying down and curling her legs under her.
“The kind of fighting that leaves you with somethin’ worse than a split lip,” he said. “The kind that scars you in places nopony can see.”
“Where’s that? Somewhere underneath you?”
“Nope. Right in here,” he said, reaching up and tapping her on the forehead.
She swatted his hoof away and asked, “So what happened?”
“Well... it was just after you was born. Me and Pa was in the field right here,” he pointed to the field lying at the base of their hill, “just plowing it up like we did every year. I’d been gettin’ restless, I suppose. Thinking ‘bout everything I might be missing outside the farm. I reckon you know what that feels like, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yeah...”
“And like you I was tired of comin’ home to chores every day. I wanted to be out with my friends, not at home pulling some rusty ol’ plow through the dirt. So we got to arguin’. And I got mad. And...” he trailed off, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
“And what?” she asked.
Mac rolled onto his back and took a deep breath. “I yelled at him, Bloom.”
“You yelled at Pa?”
He nodded. “Told him I hated him. Hated the farm. That I didn’t want nothin’ to do with it anymore. And then I... well I...”
Something touched his side and he looked down to see that Apple Bloom had inched closer and was leaning against him, her eyes wide open and staring into his.
“I ran away, Bloom,” he said, his voice breaking. “I ran away and I didn’t come back for two days.”
Her eyes widened further than he’d ever seen. “You... you ran away?”
“I did. And by the time I came back... well, it was too late. I opened the door to the house that night. Found half the Apple family inside and cryin’ their eyes out. At first nopony would tell me what’d happened. I looked around, callin’ out to Pa, tryin’ to find out what the trouble was. I couldn't figure out why everypony was lookin’ at me like I was dyin’ but didn’t know it yet. Finally Granny pulled me to the side. Broke the news to me.” He looked away as his eyes burned. “They put him in the ground that very next day.”
“Oh, Mac...” Apple bloom said, resting her head on his chest and staring of into the distance. Mac brought a hoof up and ran it through her mane, the red hair almost blending in with the fur on his chest. It was several minutes before he could speak again.
After spending a moment clearing his throat he said, “After the funeral was done, when we got back to the farm, I came right up here to this hill, and you know what I saw?”
“What?”
“I saw Pa. I saw him in the plow, and in the fence, and in the apple trees too. And I saw me. Helpin’ him push that plow when it got stuck, holdin’ that fence post in place while he hammered on it, and haulin’ those apples to the market with him. And that’s when it happened...”
“You’re cutie mark?”
“Eeyup. I was sittin’ right here on this hill when I realized that I’d always loved this farm. As much work as my chores had been, they were never really work when Pa was around. Then my hind quarters got to tinglin’ and I looked down to see that there apple sparklin’ on my flank.”
“That’s it? That’s how you got your cutie mark?”
He nodded. "That's how, Bloom."
She looked away and neither said anything for several minutes. Then, in a quiet voice she said, “Are you mad at me, Mac?”
“Bloom...” She looked over and met his eyes. “I ain’t mad at you.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to you. Knowin’ that the last thing Pa heard from me was how much I hated him and the farm... well, I don’t want nopony to have to go through that, especially you,” he said, touching her shoulder with a hoof. “And when you get your cutie mark I want you to be happy. Not like me.”
“You weren’t happy?”
“I... It was...” he trailed off as the memory resurfaced.
“I thought it was supposed to feel good, Granny...” he said as his grandmother hugged him and tried to dry his eyes with the black veil she’d worn to the funeral. “That’s what everypony says! But it don’t! It don’t at all! It just hurts!”
“Oh, Mac... I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want it!” he said. “Granny, I don’t want it!”
“Was what?” Apple Bloom asked, bringing him back to the present.
“Bloom, I think it might have been one of the worst times of my life. It just reminded me of everything I’d lost,” he said. “That’s why I don’t want you sayin’ those hateful things. When you get your cutie mark I want you to be happy.”
“But-but I didn’t mean what I said!” she said, her eyes tearing up.
“I reckon you did, Bloom. At least at the time. Just as I meant it when I said it to Pa.”
“But I... But I didn’t...” A small whine built up in her throat and she rose halfway to her feet before stumbling forward. Wrapping her forelegs around his neck she buried her face into his mane and began to cry.
Mac held her, saying, “Now don’t you worry, Bloom. I don’t care if you meant it or not. I still love you just as much as I did before.”
“But why?” she asked in between sobs. “I said all those mean things...”
“That don’t matter. I love you and it’d take a lot more than that to make me love you any less.”
“Mac...” she said. “I’m sorry, Mac...”
A minute went by before Apple Bloom finally ceased her crying and removed her forelegs from around his neck. They lay in silence, with her curled up against his neck, until the sun disappeared behind the distant apple trees and twilight overtook the world.
Finally Mac nudged his sister and said, “It’s gettin’ late, Bloom. Why don’t you run on back to the house, wash up, and then have your supper.”
“Okay...” she said.
She rose but didn’t move. After a moment she said, “Mac...”
“Hmm?”
“I always liked your cutie mark.”
He propped himself up and took her into a one foreleg hug. “Thanks, Bloom.”
They broke apart and Applebloom started down the hill. She'd only gotten a few steps when a thought occurred to Mac.
"Hey, Bloom..."
She stopped and turned back to him.
"Who won the fight?"
Her ears perked up and the corner of her mouth rose just a hair. "I suppose I did. I hit him. He tackled me. Then I held him down and sat on his head until he cried."
Mac chuckled. "That's my filly. Now go on. Back to the house with you before it gets dark."
Mac watched her trot down the hill and back to the house. Once she’d gone inside he laid his head down in the grass and lost himself in his thoughts until the orange sky gradually turn dark. By this time the lone cicada’s song had become a chorus, blocking out the sound of hoofsteps until they were right upon him.
“Macintosh,” an old, shaky voice said.
He rolled over onto his stomach to find Granny standing nearby, a glass of tea in her outstretched hoof. He took it and immediately downed half the liquid. It was cold, just how he liked it, but it couldn’t wash away the ache in his chest. Granny lay down beside him and, like Apple Bloom had done before, leaned her small body against his massive side.
“Why’s it still gotta hurt, Granny?” he asked, staring down into his tea. “Why’s it still feel like somepony’s runnin’ a plow over me every time I think about it?”
Beside him the old mare slowly took in a deep breath. “I’ll tell ya’ the same thing I told you last time, Mac.”
Mac turned to look at her.
“Because you loved him. More than anything else in the world. And while we all loved him too, I think there’s somethin’ special between a son and his father. Somethin’ that was taken from you right when you needed it most. And it didn’t help that you weren’t there to say goodbye.”
Mac shook his head. “I don’t care about not sayin’ goodbye, Granny. Plenty of folk don’t get to say goodbye. That ain’t what matters.”
“Then what matters, Mac?”
“What matters is that the last view Pa had of his only son was of my backside as I ran away. And the last thing he heard was me sayin’ hateful things about him and the farm.”
“Let me ask ya’ this, Macintosh,” she said. “If today was the last time you ever saw Apple Bloom, would you love her any less than you did yesterday?”
“Of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m her brother.”
“Mac, there are families out there that ain’t got no love in their hearts for each other. So that ain’t it.”
“Then... why?”
“Because you already love her. It don’t matter that she’s your sister. What matters is that you love her, and one little spat ain’t gonna tear down years of love,” she said, smiling up at him. “You think your Pa loved you any less just ‘cuz you had a fight and then ran away?”
“I... I don’t know, Granny.”
“Macintosh, you listen to me and you listen good. Your Pa loved you. And he forgave you for runnin’ away the moment it happened. I think the REAL reason it hurts so much is that you never forgave yourself.”
Mac sighed. “How can I, Granny?”
“I don’t know, Mac. That’s somethin’ only you can do.”
Mac looked away and downed the last of his tea. For a long while he lay there in the grass with his head resting on his forelegs and Granny at his side. It wasn't until the moon had risen behind them that either of them spoke.
“I think it’s about that time, Mac,” Granny said. “Now, if you could help this old mare to her feet and walk her back to the house she’d be mighty grateful.”
Mac rose and helped her up. They made their way down the hill and back to the house, Granny’s bad hip keeping them at a slow walk. He followed her into the house and down the hall where she stopped in the doorway to her bedroom. Turning to him, she stared into his eyes for a moment before giving him a small smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“Other than fur color you’re the spitting image of him, Mac,” she said. “Just as big and strong and caring as he was. And you’ve done good. He’d be just as proud of you as we are. Remember that.”
“I will, Granny,” he said, hugging her. “G’night.”
With that the old mare closed the door and left him alone in the hallway. AJ and Apple Bloom were already upstairs in bed so he hit the lights around the house until the only way he could get around was by the moonlight streaming in through the windows.
His room upstairs felt much too far away at the moment so he carefully made his way through the dark to the living room couch and collapsed into it, ignoring the creaking it made under the weight of his large frame. Sleep soon took him and he dozed until the sound of hoofsteps coming down the stairs roused him. He opened his eyes to see the outline of a small figure slowly walk into the kitchen and shortly afterwards there came the sound of running water.
It was just Apple Bloom getting something to drink he realized. He closed his eyes and had almost drifted off once more when something warm pushed its way in between his forelegs and snuggled into his chest.
“Hey, Bloom,” he whispered, wrapping his forelegs around her.
“... hey, Mac...” she said, sounding nearly asleep.
Neither said anything further, and as they lay there Mac thought about what Granny had said. He needed to forgive himself... but how? How could anypony forgive themselves for doing what he’d done? He took a deep breath and pulled his little sister closer.
Apple Bloom. She made it seem so easy. Cry a bit, hug him, and then come snuggle. He knew she’d be okay the next day. It was easy when the other person was still alive and able to forgive, which of course he forgave her. He was her big brother. He loved her. And everypony makes mistakes, that’s no reason to stop loving them.
His breath caught as his chest tightened.
Could it be that simple? No no no. He’d ran away. Left his own Pa in the field like he was nothing but a stranger. How could anypony be forgiven for that?
His eyes roamed the darkness, seeing memories past.
Applejack had left and he’d forgiven her. It wasn’t quite the same as his situation, but all the same...
Granny’s earlier words came back to him.
And you’ve done good. He’d be just as proud of you as we are.
Had he? He’d worked his flank off making sure they all had food to eat and a place to live and call home. He knew they appreciated him. They were family after all. They loved him.
They were family. They loved him.
They loved him.
Mac let out a shuddering breath as a great feeling rose up inside him. One he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. His own words battered against the shell he’d built around himself so many years ago.
That don’t matter. I love you and it’d take a lot more than that to make me love you any less.
Maybe... maybe it was okay. Maybe it wasn’t unforgivable.
His eyes burned and he hugged Apple Bloom tighter as the first of a few small tremors ran through his massive body. She mumbled something in her sleep and hugged one of his forelegs.
“Thank you, Bloom,” he whispered, softly nuzzling the sleeping filly. “Thank you so much.”