//------------------------------// // On the Mend // Story: Sweet Apple Acres: For Sale by Owner // by Velvet_Divan //------------------------------// Chapter Eight I heard a lot of activity over the next few hours. Raised voices, the crackle of Twilight's teleport, windows rattling as pegasi flew by. It was torture, knowing some monumental effort was taking place out there to fix my mistakes, but all the same, it would've been easier for stone-bound Discord to help than it was for me to leave my bed. In time the noise grew by leaps and bounds. I heard music and the sound of a huge crowd. My breath caught as a horrible thought flickered to life. They couldn't have called an emergency family reunion, could they? The thought of hiding from a long queue of family and disappointing every last one of them in person rather than by mail was unbearable. I told myself it was impossible; I could count on my hooves the relatives who lived close enough to have gotten here so quickly. Eventually the racket tapered off, and more familiar family-noises filtered back into the house. Apple Bloom told me later what all had happened. They saved the orchards. Twilight found a more effective means of heating the trees, while Rainbow Dash conscripted the weather team to help with more traditional methods. Pinkie Pie used a song and parade to recruit a big train of ponies in town who pitched in too, and of course Fluttershy and Rarity did their part. Apple Bloom spoke in the best indoor-voice I'd ever heard from her, and I could barely stand to look her in the face. She fidgeted and fussed with a bit of my sheets. The day's work showed on her, but I guessed she wasn't feeling a single one of the aches in her little body. She was far too focused on a problem she had nothing to throw at but love. Mac only stroked my back, silent, there if I wanted to talk. When I didn't, he left me some supper and turned in, more exhausted than ever. I did sleep, and my dreams were vague, but I woke with the impression they'd been full of accusations and guilt. I woke to the rooster crowing. My eyes opened to fix on the ceiling. Though I was flat on my back in bed, I felt like I teetered at the edge of a cliff. If I swung my legs out of bed and got moving, I would make it through another day. A pony in motion tends to stay in motion. If I stayed in bed and nursed my misery, I wasn't sure when I'd ever get up. ...If I'd ever get up. What was there to get up for? What did it matter, anyways? Just because this latest disaster had been averted, notably without my help, I could just bet there was another waiting in the wings with my name on it. The world had it in for me, so why give the world the satisfaction of beating me down any longer? I rolled away from the window and the glow of a sunrise I refused to face. It took hours, and ignoring tentative taps on my door, but at last I sank back into the refuge of sleep. My friends gave me three days before they came for me. Twilight led the charge, and was first to speak, resting a hoof on my blanket-cocooned form. "AJ, I'm sorry. After talking with the girls, I realized I was too hard on you. I don't... I don't understand what you're going through. It's one thing to read about it in books, to hear you talk about what it's like, but I can't feel how it is for you, behind your eyes." She sighed, withdrawing her hoof. "I lost my temper, and my patience.” Frustration seeped back into her voice. “It's just so hard to see—to watch you—" She let a mingled groan and growl bubble up. "Nothing seems to make any difference!” There was a murmur as the other girls calmed her, before Twilight resumed. “I wrote to Princess Celestia about you. I didn't know who else to turn to. She hasn't... She hasn't answered yet." Even in my state I could hear the hurt and confusion in that phrase. "I realized I couldn't afford to wait on her, so we came to see you." A new hoof drifted down to rest on me. Even before she spoke, I knew that feather-light touch could only be Fluttershy's. She stroked me through the blanket, as she must have stroked so many suffering patients over the years. It struck me then how hard it must be on such a sensitive mare, seeing and touching so much pain. After a minute of simple, silent reassurance through touch, 'Shy spoke. “Winona's doing much better, now.” I'd kept the details of the incident from the others, barring Pinkie, who wouldn't buy anything about a freak accident. I flinched. A double dose of guilt hit me in the heart and stomach, as an image of snow pitted with crimson flashed before my eyes. I'd actually forgotten about my pet over the last few days. How could I have forgotten Winona? Fluttershy draped herself over me. The pegasus didn't weigh much, but she carried quite a bit of warmth. "Applejack, you're sick. Because it's all in your head, and in your heart, it might feel like something...natural, that you just have to deal with it yourself. It isn't, and you can get help. Twilight mentioned you had, um, problems with your doctor? We did some asking around. There's a private psychologist in town who comes highly recommended." She withdrew after a moment, and something small and soft came to rest against my underside, through the blankets. "Would you...when you're feeling a bit better of course, please try her? Please. I can't b-bandage you, can't f-fix you, but maybe she can." Rainbow Dash didn't touch me. I'd half-expected her to give me a good shake. "So, I know things have been ridiculously rough for you lately. I just want you to remember that you need to get better not just for yourself, but for your family." Somepony hissed at her. "Not that I'm guilting you! Just, for yourself, you should want to." I could picture her rubbing the back of her head, starting to get antsy in my small bedroom, packed in there with five other ponies. "And when I say family, AJ? That still includes us girls. Heh, honorary family members, right? We need our big sister Applejack back." I thought back on all the times I'd had to yank Rainbow out of the line of fire, or calmed Twilight down, or at least tried to redirect Rarity's attention to reality. They might not need me, apart from Rainbow maybe, but they were sure worse off without me. The old me, anyways. Rarity patted my blanketed head. "If you need a little...retreat, a vacation, Applejack, you're welcome to stay with me for as long as you like. I'll even try my best to perform your chores in your absence." I heard her gulp before continuing. "Your orchard is like our friendship, Applejack. It's a lot of work! It demands pruning, watering, and attentive care in order to flourish, and in the case of you and me specifically, a healthy dose of patience! And there are always set-backs. But look at what you receive in return. Your orchard gives you delicious apples, the best anywhere, that you transform into the most wonderful things, plus shade in the summer, and beautiful leaves in the fall. Friendship gives you even greater fruit and beauty than that, and it's more resilient than the orchard." Rainbow spoke up. "And when you don't 'water' or 'prune' us, we're going to come check on you to see why!" "That's right," Rarity said, "and...we found you so thirsty and overgrown AJ. We weren't doing our part. We'll do our best to never let that happen again, darling." Pinkie sat on the bed. The faint scent of Sugarcube Corner teased my nose, filtering even through the blanket. "Give us a minute alone, girls?" There were a few puzzled sounds, but hooves clomped on floorboards, and I heard the door click shut. Pinkie stretched out behind me on the bed, taking up a familiar position. "I know this can feel...satisfying, in a way," she murmured, "but that won't last. Every day you spend cooped up in here, buried in blanket-town, is making it harder for you to come back." She nuzzled the back of my head gently, even tentative about it. "Come back to us." I didn't budge. I couldn't. What was all the hiding and emotional barricading for if I suddenly gave in? I'd decided Auntie Applesauce was right. I was poison, and I was better off locked away, and that's how it should be. If anypony else saw things differently, it's only because they weren't me and couldn't know how awful I was inside. Pinkie lifted her chin to place her mouth closer to my ears. "I learned a few songs from the sea ponies when we were in their village. Not all of them were happy songs, not with...what had been happening there. One of them...felt a lot like what you're going through. What I've gone through." I cringed beneath the blanket. Not a song... There's a course some wind up swimming, If you sink from warmer seas. The abyss around you dimming, So cold, your memories freeze. Dark times will always hunt us, But when our strength is at an end Never forget we don't swim alone, Rise to warmth with a friend. Stone and darkness hem you in, Locking you up with your pain. No what's-to-come, no what-has-been To the hideous 'now' you're chained. Dark times will always hunt us, But when our strength is at an end Never forget we don't swim alone, Rise to hope with a friend. Your only escort is a shade Who looks more and more like a friend But the price she asks for her aid? Is the last coin you have to spend. Dark times will always hunt us, But when our strength is at an end Never forget we don't swim alone, Rise to life with a friend. In the black you will wander blind, Leagues or inches from light and home Trapped in the maze of your mind, Imprisoned by familiar bone. Dark times will always hunt us, But when our strength is at an end Never forget we don't swim alone, Rise to love with a friend. I shuddered beneath the blanket. Pinkie's songs had always been bouncy, even overly-cheerful things. I'd never heard her sing anything else. That song was haunting, and having been down in depths like it described, physically and emotionally, it hit me right between the eyes. I pushed the blanket down, squirmed around, and seized Pinkie in a hug she was more than ready to give. A hoofmade plush Winona, Fluttershy's gift, tumbled to the floor. It barely registered through what felt like a waterfall of tears. "Alright. Alright. Ah'll try again." I swallowed around the lump in my throat. "M'sorry Pinkie." "It's okay, AJ. I'll help pull you out of the trench as many times as I need to. Let's just get better, alright?" The door clicked open, and Rainbow stuck her head in. "Heeey, you're up! Come downstairs! Granny Smith just baked a pie." Pinkie slid out of bed and tugged at my hoof. "C'mon. That's as good as medicine any day." I rubbed my eyes, blinked in the darkness of the sitting room, and realized I'd dozed off on the couch. Somepony had draped a blanket over me, and I couldn't help but smile as I folded it and set it aside. The only light still shining there on the first floor was in the dining room, so I made my way there with soft, deliberate steps. No sense in waking up the family with a bunch of clattering around. Passed out at the dining room table, Granny Smith snored away, head propped on her foreleg, hoof still gripping a quill. As gently as I could, I leaned Granny back in her seat, took her quill, cleaned it and put it away. I happened to see the name at the top of her letter and blanched. Applesauce. I should have let it be and just taken it up to Granny's room with her, but I burned to know what words might pass between the two. Granny was sweet as anything, never mind the tart wit she wielded. Auntie on the other hoof... It was hard to imagine how they'd ever gotten along at all. I turned the letter towards me and read. Saucey, I'm writing this now hoping it will reach you not long after you get home. There was a lot I didn't get to say, or maybe couldn't bring myself to say, in that last awful moment here at the house. Only twice in my life have I had to boot somepony off my property, and never family, before you. It broke my heart to do it to you, but you just couldn't see what you were doing to Applejack, and you needed a few sunrises and miles between us to appreciate that. I know your feelings on the matter. With all the hours we talked while you played nursemaid for me, you heard it all. Jackie doesn't tell me everything because she worries I'll worry, but I squeeze it out of her brother and sister in the end anyhow. She's walking wounded, as bad as any of those refugees we saw come up from Neigh Orleans years back, but the devastation's mostly in her head and her heart. You always had the order of things wrong. The farm wasn't in trouble because Applejack was so down at the mouth and heartsick. She's ailing because the farm's in trouble. She took every scrap of blame and guilt for herself, but just when she was starting to admit maybe she was worth her own time once more you came in with your half-baked understanding of things and rubbed the whole mess in her face again. She isn't your Lazy Bones or dear departed Whiskey Tango, Saucey. Tough love isn't the tack to take in this case. I know you wish you'd learned your lesson years earlier with those two, but your approach is a hammer, and Applejack is not a nail. Please come visit us again when Granny must have fallen asleep at that point, but I could imagine where she would take it. I hung my head and thought about what I'd just read. Applesauce's behavior made more sense now, though it hardly put her on the guest list for my next party. I glanced between Granny and the letter for a moment, then planted a hoof on her side, giving her a bit of a shake. "Granny? Gran.” Nonsense words escaped her in a mumble, but after a few seconds, one eyelid pried itself up. “Applejack? What're you doin' in...” She glanced around. “The dining room. Aheh, mighta dozed off for a second or two.” I tapped the letter on the table. “Ah'm sorry Gran, but Ah read your letter. Ah wanted to know more about Auntie and...maybe try to figure out why she acted the way she did. Ah guess Ah understand a mite better now.” I rubbed one foreleg with the other, dropping my gaze to the floor. “Ah also wanted to say Ah'm sorry. Never wanted to come between you two. Ah know you were close.” Granny blinked up at me, more awake by the second. She took my cheeks in her hooves and pulled me in close. “Jackie, family's important, but it's ain't a free pass to act the way she did. If Ah thought for a second you didn't regret hurtin' that paper-pushing busybody the moment you'd dunnit, you'd be sleepin' in the barn and stayin' a field's length from Apple Bloom. Applesauce would've been right.” Chills ran through me as Granny stared me in the eyes, and for a split-second I was back in town hall, feeling the icy grip on my guts as I stared at an unmoving Red Tape. “But you did regret it. She ain't right. Ah love you child, and Ah'd love you even if you'd killed that stallion and laughed about it, but Ah couldn't have kept you around, because Ah love the rest of my family too.” I teared up; there was no resisting it. Granny dropped her hooves from my cheeks and hugged me about the neck, pressing her cheek to mine. "Sometimes Ah wonder if a timberwolf didn't bite you that night you found the zap apples, Gran. You protect us like their blood, or sap or somethin' flows through your veins.” “Heh, maybe that's why I creak as much as an old willow in a windstorm, too!” We shared a good giggle, before I slid a leg up to pat her on the back. “Let's get to bed. Ah don't know about timberwolves and trees, but Ah need sleep.” “There's some wisdom rubbin' off on ya, Applejack. Nitey nite.” The next afternoon found me stepping into a quiet waiting room off a side street in town, windows frosted to prevent a casual passerby from peeking in to see who was crazy lately. Pinkie and Twilight were with me, not that the others hadn't wanted to come along too. I talked them out of it, but more than my arguments, it was a glance at the business itself that convinced them the tiny waiting room inside really wouldn't be a great place for six ponies to cool their hooves in. The doctor stepped out from her office and gave us all a smile. She was a middle-aged unicorn mare with a magenta coat, her mane and tail a mix of charcoal and canary yellow. It looked like it should have clashed terribly, and perhaps it would have if not for the red ribbons plaited through her hair, helping to bridge the gap between the hues. Her cutie mark was confusing at first glance: a dark disc with a brilliant glowing rim. "Hey everyone. Who am I chatting with today?" I forced myself to stand and walk towards her, nodding a greeting. "Applejack, ma'am." "Ahh, welcome. Would your friends like to join us?" I blinked. "Is...that allowed?" The doctor pushed her office door open wider. "That's all up to you. If you think they'd help, then there's no reason to leave them out here with my two year-old magazines." I turned my head and jerked it towards the door, eying Twi and Pinkie. They popped up and filed after me, and soon we three were seated on a comfortable couch in a very professional-looking office. Expensive polished wood and glass seemed to be the themes of the décor, and I took a good look around me to be sure I wouldn't knock anything over if I gesticulated a bit. The doctor settled herself in a chair across from us, shunning her big desk. The older unicorn levitated a gem from a shelf and set it on a small pedestal atop the desk. "This is how I take notes," she explained. "This gem is enchanted to absorb and 'remember' every sound made in this room for the next hour. Later I'll get it to recite for me, and I'll write things down. I find that writing can distract from the pony I'm with." She gave us that smile again, and neatly crossed her legs. "Now, I'm Doctor Love Hate." "Whoa, what?" I blurted out. "That's...sorry, but that sounds really, uh, ominous!" She grinned and shook her head. "You're far from the first to react that way. What are love and hate?" I blinked, stumped to explain two concepts I understood implicitly. Twilight tapped her chin. "Powerful emotions?" Doctor Love nodded. "The most powerful emotions, in fact. Some have said that every other emotion stems from one or the other. That's nearly accurate. It would be closer to the truth to say most emotions spring from love or fear. At any rate, my cutie-mark is a dichotomy—" "Umm," I glanced at Twilight. "That's a division, two things in sharp contrast of one another," the alicorn whispered. I nodded a quick thank-you her way, then squinted again at the doctor's cutie mark. It finally popped into relief for me. It was a solar eclipse. Depending on who you talked to, the forces represented there were in very sharp contrast with each other, or certainly had been in the past. "—and I became interested in some of the dichotomies we ponies represent, or carry around inside our heads. I held a very serious one myself as a younger mare. In short order, that led me to psychology. It helped me deal with my personal division, and shed light on many questions I had about others'. Have we talked enough about me now?" She grinned. I blushed a tad, and nodded. "So what brings you to me today? I admit I've heard your farm is going through some difficulties, but let's pretend I've heard nothing, since it's always better to get it from the source." I nodded, and launched into my story once again. It was longer now, including my experiences with Textbook, and my relapse after the infestation. I avoided saying anything about Pinkie, other than that she had helped support me. The encounter at town hall was still a raw memory and I struggled to unclench my teeth, get air into my lungs, and unfreeze my throat to get out the words, admitting my crime. Pinkie squeezed my hoof, and Twilight patted my leg, leaning in close against me while I spoke. I didn't tear up. I did find myself speaking in a monotone, like it was the dullest account possible about a pony of no consequence. Doctor Love did stop me to ask about my parents when I talked about feeling I'd failed them, once I'd realized I'd have to sell the farm. She asked me a few specific questions about my treatment under Textbook, and her face remained carefully neutral through those, while it was quite expressive throughout the rest of my story. Her questions grew more frequent and precise the closer my account approached the present. "Try to put into words for me how you felt at your lowest point, after the infestation, when you had sequestered yourself?" I sat in silence for a long moment. It wasn't easy to come up with words that expressed how awful those days were. "Ah guess, at times it felt like Ah was choking on something hot, like tomato soup. It was this pressure, suffocating, and Ah felt Ah'd do anything to get out from under it. But it wasn't anything physical. Ah couldn't throw it up. You can't cough up self-loathing or spit out hopelessness. It was all emotional, so it just... Ah just..." I trailed off, language failing me, and my self control gave out as tears rolled down my cheeks fast and hot. Pinkie and Twilight were right there for me, holding me, and Doctor Love levitated a box of tissues within easy reach. "Well Applejack, you've walked a hard rocky road to come this far. You can count your lucky stars you have such a wonderful family and dedicated friends." I felt Twilight sag a bit beside me. Doctor Love flicked an ear and drew a hoof through the air between her and the alicorn, as if to physically cut off a flow of negative emotion. "Lady Twilight, not everyone is going to pick up on the warning signs of depression. Few even know what to look for, I'm sorry to say. On top of that, Applejack had been actively hiding any signs from all of you, so you had no idea something was wrong. If you'd noticed a trend, then on that day she came to you, I'm certain you would have dropped even your soggy books to listen to her." Twilight nodded, just a slight bob of her chin, and nuzzled at my cheek. "Now, your treatment under me is going to be quite different. If I have any 'homework' for you, I'm going to write it out. We will be discussing it on your subsequent visits. You are welcome to bring anypony you like with you, and I suggest you bring your family along at some point. They usually have their own questions, and anything we can do to help them understand what you're going through is helpful." She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. "Now. Remember what I said earlier about fear? Fear spawns negative emotions. You've been hit with a lot of fear lately, AJ, and roots of it run through your past. Losing your parents is just about the biggest explosion of fear a child can face, and the echoes of it travel through their entire lifetime." She shook her head, lines appearing below her eyes and around her mouth. "Some don't manage to carry on. You and your siblings did." "But other hard life events, what we head-shrinkers call 'stressors' came along and piled up on you." She mimed heavy objects coming down, one after the other, with increasing force onto a point above her lap. "A pony can only take so much, even the strongest of us." "Some, when they break, react violently or impulsively. Others are driven into depression. I'm sure you've noticed that even after the immediate events that triggered the depression have abated, the worst of the pressure has eased, your depression sticks around like a guest wearing out their welcome." I nodded, grimacing. "Ah feel terrible, 'cuz now there isn't even somethin' Ah can point to for why Ah feel so bad. Ponies are just gonna look at me like Ah'm..." "Crazy. That's another problem. Mental illness carries a stigma with it, mainly because we know so much less about mental illnesses. I think we've all learned that ponies fear what they don't understand." "Zecora was proof enough of that," Twilight muttered. "I even got caught up in that." Doctor Love nodded. "They won't know why you can't just 'get over' your depression, or 'shrug it off,' especially since you're an earth pony. Unicorns and pegasi are given more leeway for illness or 'fragility,' but the stereotype for earth ponies holds that you never get sick at all." She smiled at me. "Has anypony in your family ever been sick, Applejack?" "We all get sick, usually twice a year apiece, though nothin' too serious." Until Granny Smith's heart attack, anyways. Guilt scraped at the inside of my skull. "You see how counterproductive stereotypes are. You're going to be frustrated with ponies, I can pretty much guarantee it, but it's going to be mutual. If you can get them to understand you're suffering from an illness, you're most of the way there." "Would it help to get the confused ponies to compare it to a physical illness?" Pinkie asked, getting up from the couch and limping around. "If Ah had a cast on, would you be telling me stuff like that?" She managed a not half-bad imitation of me, though it was higher-pitched. Doctor Love laughed and nodded. "That might actually help with some ponies." She sobered, and looked me in the eyes. “Truly, depression is as physical as it is mental. It's what's known as a mood disorder, and I'm sure you've noticed the physical toll it's taken on you.” I grimaced. “Ah don't have the zip Ah used to, that's for darn sure. Mah appetite...yeah, Ah see what you mean. It started in mah head, but it spread down from there.” Doctor Love nodded, and steepled her forehooves together. "Now, I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist at the hospital. She's kind of the other half of the mental-illness treatment team. Psychologists work on the thinking part of your problems while psychiatrists work on the pure chemical side of things." "Chemicals?" I tilted my head. "What do you mean?" "Depression is often the result of certain chemicals in your brain growing out of balance. We can help nudge things back towards normal with medication." "Drugs?" I shook my head. "Ah don't like the sound of that. Bad enough Ah'm depressed, but takin' pills so Ah can act normal? That sounds like a band-aid!" Twilight patted my leg, and I settled down some. I was glad my friends were along. I don't know if I would've had the courage to speak up without them there as backup. Doctors are a little intimidating, speaking from such a lofty height of experience and education. "Okay, let's pull out what Pinkie just did. If you had oh, let's say, the Cutie-pox, and I offered you a pill a scientist had developed that cured it, would you take it?" "Well..." "And would you feel at all ashamed to take it?" "No, Ah'd feel smart for takin' advantage of what's available t'day. In the past ponies may have died from the pox, but Ah don't have to." "Now just remember that mental illness is no less legitimate than physical illness. Do you still look down on taking a drug to treat it?" Doctor Love smiled a little. She knew she'd trapped me. I shook my head. "Ah suppose not. It won't make me loopy or anything, will it?" Doctor Love see-sawed a hoof in the air. "Some of the medications have some less-than ideal side effects, but part of treatment is working closely with your psychiatrist to find a dosage or a combination of medications that works for you. If your symptoms haven't abated enough, or the side effects aren't worth the relief you get, then you try something else.” She spread her forelegs as if to offer me the fruits of her profession's labors. “We're fortunate that we have a small arsenal of different drugs, but it can take some trial and error to find the one that works for you, Applejack." I felt a bit better about being medicated, knowing I would have that much control over what I took. I was used to doctors just shoving a prescription at me and that's what I would be taking. "Our time's up for today. I'd like to see you again soon, maybe Thursday?" Doctor Love rose and fetched a pad of paper from her desk to scribble down the referral she'd mentioned. Today was Monday. "So soon? Ah mean, uh, sure. Maybe one o'clock?" I rubbed my side where Pinkie had elbowed me. "That will work for me! Here. I'll write the hospital and let them know you'll be coming." She passed me the referral slip, then paused. "One other thing though, something I should have brought up earlier. When you talk to yourself, either in your head or aloud, how hard are you on yourself?" As hard on myself as I deserve. "P-pretty nasty." "I want to give you a guideline to try to follow, Applejack. Look at your friends." I turned to look at Twilight and Pinkie, still standing near the couch. They smiled at me, trying to lend as much encouragement as they could. Strain still showed on Twilight's face, worry lurking in the lines around her eyes. Pinkie's smile wasn't quite as wide as it used to be, though I wagered only her closest friends would have noticed the difference. Doctor Love nodded their way. "Imagine directing the things you tell yourself at your friends instead." The thought made me want to vomit, my mind and body both recoiled so fiercely. Nopony I knew deserved... Oh. "I think you already understand. If you can't bear the thought of spewing that venom at your friends, imagine what kind of damage it's been doing to you all this time." Doctor Love walked up beside me and patted my withers. "Changing your thought patterns is not easy. It won't happen overnight. You can resolve to stop giving yourself such a hard time though." She pointed at my friends. "What would you do for them, if they were in your horseshoes?" "Well, what they've been doin' for me. Bein' there for me, listenin' to me. When I make some progress, they'll congratulate me, and when I backslide, they wouldn't harass me over it. They'd just try to pull me back up." "You deserve no worse, Applejack, no matter what you tell yourself." She put every ounce of her persuasive power into that sentence, pulling me about to look me in both eyes. I couldn't find any trace of dishonesty in her. Even knowing my whole story, she meant every word. "Now. Please try and see the psychiatrist before our next appointment, okay?" She released me, settling all four hooves back on the floor. "Will do, Doctor Love Hate." "Doctor Love will do fine," she grinned, crossing to a second door at the rear of the office. "This exit empties out into an alley, but it keeps you from having to walk past anyone in the waiting room. I like to give my clients privacy, if they wish it." I considered, then shook my head. "Thanks Doc, but Ah don't mind anypony knowin' Ah'm seeing you." "The client in my waiting room might mind you seeing them though," she said, "not to put too fine a point on it." I rubbed my face with a hoof, and groaned. "Right, right. Could be the mayor, for all Ah know. Okay girls, let's get goin'. Bye Doc." "See you soon, Applejack. Nice to meet you Lady Twilight. Good to see you again, Pinkie." We slipped out through a short hallway and into the promised alley before Twilight raised a brow and rounded on Pinkie. "'Again,' Pinkie?" "Shyeah, I know everypony, remember?" "Oh, right, of course." Twilight shook herself. She turned back to me. "AJ, about that grant that came up in there... We should pursue that. If we get a meeting with the mayor, we can bypass Red Tape completely. That is, if he even managed to hold onto his job after all that." "But what about his threat? If we do that, it just confirms his accusation, gives him the evidence to get Mayor Mare in trouble. Ah don't want to drag anypony else down with mah problems." I made very sure not to glance Pinkie's way. "The farm could become a whirlpool of trouble at that rate." Twilight shook her head. "He's a clerk, and a bully, abusing what little power he has. The mayor's position is secure. Even if the technical wording of the grant doesn't quite cover what you want to do, the spirit of it definitely does, and that's what ponies in positions like the mayor's are there for, to make calls like that." She smiled, and I'd never seen a plant-eater look so predatory before. "And they don't appreciate being second-guessed, so I'd love to see Red Tape try anything once she's made her decision." I glanced at Pinkie, who gave me a series of nods so rapid her head became a blur. "Well, alright. Try and get a meeting with her, Twi, and thanks." Twilight nodded, smiling with utter confidence again, and trotted on towards the street. Pinkie hung back with me, and glanced my way. She shook her head ever so slightly in Twilight's direction. "I have an appointment with Doc Love tomorrow." "D'you...want me to come along?" I walked with her at half-speed after Twilight. "No, you've got tons of work to do, and I've been through this kind of thing before." "Pinkie, Ah'll be there if you want me there. It's only about an hour and after seein' how much it helped havin' you two with me today Ah'd be a rotten friend not to go!" She hesitated, and I nudged her with my side. "S'all Ah needed to see. Ah'll see you here tomorrow too. What time?" Pinkie's smile was diluted, but genuine. "Nine in the morning." "Can do." "What're you two dawdling for? Planning a party?" Twilight turned to find us several yards behind. "Nope! You can't plan a party in an alley, silly. You need cake for inspiration." Pinkie bounced out onto the street. "I sense cake nearby. Sound the horns! Chaaaaaaarge!" Trotting back from the orchards around dinnertime that night, I welcomed the sight of the lit windows of the farmhouse off in the distance, the beacon of warmth drawing me back. The second I walked in the door, Apple Bloom was there at my hooves, dragging me into the dining room. "C'mon AJ, it's almost time t'eat!" It was pretty much impossible not to smile as she filly-towed me to my seat. Apple Bloom scooted her chair closer to the corner of the table so she could be closer to me than usual. "How's the prunin' going?" She propped her chin on her hooves, leaning on the table. I raised a brow. This was a bit suspicious, being doted on like this. I wondered if she'd broken anything new. "It's goin'. We're about a quarter done with the first orchard. Brass and Tacks are helpin' heaps." "Great! Today at school? Miss Cheerilee let us pick parts for the Hearth's Warming Eve school pageant! I get to be Chancellor Puddinghead!" Apple Bloom grinned, tail swishing so hard her entire rump moved with it, the filly too excited to even sit down. "Wow, that's a big part, sugarcube! Think you can learn all those lines?" "Well, our pageant isn't like the play you were in, it isn't as long. But there are still a lot of lines. I'll have to study a lot. Maybe you can help, i-if you feel like it?" She ducked her head a little, and peered up at me through her mane. "Ah—" Then it hit me. She was trying to cheer me up, trying to keep me engaged. My little sister was trying to take care of her screwed-up big sister. Mixed feelings flooded me. I wanted to squeeze her until she nearly popped for being such a sweetheart, but I wanted to cry my eyes out that she was having to grow up so fast. Such a little filly shouldn't have to take such heavy responsibility upon herself. Mac and I never wanted her to have to mature as quickly as we'd had to... I scooped her up into my lap, turning her around so she wouldn't see my brimming eyes. "Sounds great, Apple Bloom." Mac walked in gripping a hot pan with a mouth-guard, and set it down on the table. "We'll all help you learn yer part, Apple Bloom." He rested a heavy hoof on my shoulder a moment on his way back to the kitchen. "We Apples're family, and we're always within reach." Granny hobbled out with a basket of biscuits on her head. "Might not know 'xactly what's goin' on, or how to help, but we'll pull ya up and dust ya off when ya fail and we'll cheer louder'n anypony when you succeed." She winked, then wandered back into the kitchen, forgotten biscuits still on her head. "Ah have a lot of problems," I murmured, nuzzling into Apple Bloom's mane, "but Ah need to remember Ah'm lucky where it counts." After supper, I beat Granny to the dishes, pretending not to notice the glare she focused on my neck for almost a minute. Gradually the dining room emptied of family, conversation shifting and softening as everypony moved to the sitting room. I joined them at length, the scent of suds clinging to my hooves. I stepped over Apple Bloom where she sprawled on the rug doing her homework, and sank into the couch with a sigh. Mac sat on the other side of the couch with a thick book, stirring only to turn a page or brush his mane back out of his eyes. I made a mental note to give him a trim soon. None of us had been to see Buzz Cut for over a year; proper haircuts were just another luxury we couldn't afford. Granny sat in her rocking chair, unraveling an old sweater of Apple Bloom's she'd grown out of. Everywhere I looked I just seemed to see the corners we were having to cut. And yet, there was no air of misery in the house. None of my kin were complaining. We were just spending a quiet evening indoors, content, pleased just to be in the same room together. I shook my head. My brain seemed determined to find the shadow in even the most cheerfully-lit room. As I swung my head, I caught a glimpse of a familiar shape on the wall. My fiddle rested in a place of honor, supported by two carved hooks set in a plaque. It had been dusted recently, no doubt Granny's doing, since less vital chores like that had fallen by the wayside somewhat while she had been laid up. I couldn't remember the last time I'd played. Was it a reunion? Surely it hadn't been that long ago. I thought about fetching it down, but something like an invisible hoof planted itself on me, gluing me to the couch. Apathy held me in place. I had a hundred reasons in an instant why I shouldn't bother trying to play. I would be rusty. Mac and Apple Bloom were occupied and I shouldn't distract them. I was relaxed and it seemed like such an effort to get up and grab the fiddle. Did I even like playing music anymore? I could feel the passing whim to play fading. An image rose in my mind from a scene in a Daring Do book. The adventurous pegasus had lost some flight feathers in a fight with a manticore, and while traveling on hoof, had stumbled into a patch of sob sand. For those in a good mood, with a positive outlook, sob sand felt like solid ground. Anypony who was feeling dejected would sink, and Daring Do was having a really rotten day at that point. Not many who start sinking ever escaped, for who would start cheering up in a situation like that? I remembered picturing her hoof straining towards the jungle canopy above, the last visible bit of her, before even that glimmer of hope sank beneath the sand. My spark of interest in something from my 'old' life felt like that, just then. Fire flared inside me. It burned through the apathy, and what had felt like a massive hoof holding me down turned out to be nothing but a flimsy band. I found myself crossing the floor, taking down the fiddle and its bow, and standing on my hindlegs to tune up. Mac and Apple Bloom looked up from their books. Granny didn't miss a beat with her yarn reclamation, but her wrinkled lips pulled up in a smile. Satisfied it sounded like it ought to, I straightened up, propped the base against my neck, and stretched my foreleg out beneath its neck. Curling my leg around to reach the hoofboard, I felt my muscles relax into the pose. My body remembered the last time I'd played, even if I didn't. Bringing up the bow with my other hoof, I drew it across the strings, sawed back, walking the frog of my hoof along to coax the music I wanted from my old partner. I started slow, working myself into the motions, letting the bright scratchy music beat out faster and faster. As heads started to bob and hooves tapped, I began to feel I had a fourth audience member. The house itself seemed to stop its groaning and creaking to listen to a sound long-absent from its rooms. I played all the harder, bow whining across the strings, light flashing off polished wood. Intent on filling every corner in the house with music, I lost myself in the swell of it, and when Apple Bloom let loose with a “Yee-haw!” I couldn't help but answer with a wild whoop. Bridging into a heavier melody with plenty of fast-paced bow work but not as many notes, I had the attention to spare to watch Apple Bloom scramble off and return with a little tambourine we'd made her for Hearth's Warming one year. Mac's hooves on the floorboards were as good as drums, and in no time we had most of a jamboree swinging away. I faltered when Mac's drum rhythm broke apart, blinking at my brother. He glanced at his hooves, then back up at me before shaking his head. In the sudden silence, we heard the knock at the door clearly this time. Setting the fiddle on the couch, I hurried over to the door and pulled it open. “Sounded like a pahtee was goin' on in heah, and we just wondered if...” Tacks swept a foreleg across the doorstep, grinning and half-wincing at once. “If it's a strictly family thing, we could just take some snacks and head back to the bahn,” Brass shrugged. I snorted, and stepped aside. “T'weren't planned or nothin', and you're welcome to join us. Either of ya play an instrument?” “Nah. Dey tried to teach us the recorder in school. Dad hid ours after our first night of practice.” Tacks laid a foreleg across her head. “A promisin' careah in music cut tragi-kully short!” I smirked, nudging the giggling twins the rest of the way inside before closing the door. Before I could shut it, a pink hoof shot through the crack and pried it back open. “I heard the word party! Well, pahtee, but close enough! I brought cupcakes!” Pinkie bounced on my doorstep so rapidly I wouldn't have been surprised to see the snow around her melting. “Jest get in here, the draft ain't good for Granny.” I tugged Pinkie inside, but there was something tied to her. A rope of colored handkerchiefs? I pulled it too, until a rolling cart bumped into the door frame. It was piled four feet high with goods from Sugarcube Corner. “Lands sakes. Mac, Brass, Tacks, help me get this stuff inside! Guess we've got snacks after all.” Pinkie untied herself from the cart, and I took advantage of the momentary lapse in bouncing to give her a good squeeze. “S'good to see you sugarcube.” “It's good to hear you playing your fiddle again!” Pinkie squeezed me tighter than was strictly comfortable, but I can't say I minded. There was no point in wondering how Pinkie had heard me playing. She'd heard the word 'party' from wherever in town she'd been, after all. “Yeah, well, seems like with some things it's like pullin' a plow. It's hard as the dickens to get moving, but once it's in motion, it's not so bad to keep it goin'.” “I think I heard Twilight talk about that once! She said it was monertia! Or was it inentum? Either way, I'm proud of you AJ.” “Shut the door!” Granny barked. A couple weeks later I was feeling more myself. Twilight and I had met with the mayor and secured the grant, and besides that, Mayor Mare had even started a public awareness campaign using posters around town to encourage ponies to eat more apples! 'As Ponyvillian as apple pie' wasn't a great slogan, but the artwork sure did look mouthwatering, and that was enough to bring in more hungry customers. Carrot Top and I had gone to Canterlot to join the protest I'd helped organize, and somehow, I had indeed managed to convince over a hundred ponies to join me. We assembled outside the Drafting House with our signs. Some ponies had slogans painted right on their bodies, but they had swiftly discovered the flaw in their plan; it meant they had to protest coat-less. A few royal guards had shown up, but when it was clear we were peaceful, only one remained to keep an eye on things. Lawmakers who came out to chastise us grew more violent than any of us did, but the encounter didn't end like I'd expected at all. A familiar air-chariot swooped in from the sky, and a glimpse of tri-colored ethereal mane told me Princess Celestia had arrived. My stomach flip-flopped. Twilight had never received an answer back from the Princess about me, and I had watched her struggle to come to grips with what that could mean. I didn't know how that uncharacteristic silence might factor into this meeting. Regal as ever, the princess stepped out of her chariot and made her way to the House steps, never hurrying but clearly purposeful. "Oak Gavel! Meticulous Minutes! Please bring me up to speed." Celestia beckoned to two ponies who had been facing off against us on the steps. They turned their noses up at us and approached the princess. "Princess, these farmers are here to protest a tax scheduled to go into effect next year." Gavel turned his head to sneer at our group. "Apparently some ponies just aren't civic-minded enough to know that taxes keep our government running." Celestia shook out her billowing mane in what, if I didn't know her better, seemed like impatience. "Bring me the text of the tax, and the leader of this protest." She took a few steps closer to our group. I trotted forward to meet her, ears flattened to my head. "Applejack? Ah, that does make sense. I'm sorry you feel this new tax is unjust." Celestia's apologetic tone sounded genuine. "It's certainly that, Princess. It's arbitrary, far too harsh, and arranged so that taxes you'd expect to be levied on bigger farms now fall on the next tier down instead, who simply can't afford 'em." I had a hard time looking Celestia in the eyes while I spoke, but I managed it, knowing I had to do all I could to impress on the princess how serious I was, how serious we all were. Meticulous Minutes returned with the revised tax code, and Celestia caught the papers in her magic to study them for a moment. When she reached the table listing the tiers and the tax estimates, her eyes widened. "This—this is beyond onerous. I signed off on this?" Celestia's incredulous tone forced the ears of the bureaucrats to flatten. "Well, it was part of another bill, if you'll recall, intended to provide war widows with proper compensation for—" "I will review this, in-depth, with its architects." She glanced over the protesters, and lingered on me in particular. "It will not go into effect as-is, that I can state with confidence.” A chorus of cheers went up from the farmers, and even the most dour protesters' weathered faces cracked smiles. The noise grew as word traveled backwards through the crowd. “Thank you for drawing attention to this, my little ponies." The princess thrust the paperwork back at the bureaucrats simpering before her, then gestured them away with a hoof. She stepped closer to the building, and tossed her head, eye locked on mine, inviting me to follow. Shrugging at the other farmers, I tipped my hat to the crowd and trotted after the diarch, my stomach trying to make up its mind whether or not to plummet into my hooves. Celestia led me into an empty office, and shut the door behind us with a gentle click. Her horn lit with the slightest glow, and nearly faster than my eyes could track, a bright spherical grid of light exploded out from the princess, the silence of the spell at odds with its brilliance and complexity. I watched, eyes wide, as indecipherable characters of text and swirling rings of numbers pulsed into visibility between the threads of the grid. In seconds I felt like I was in the center of one of Twilight's astronomy lectures, if the notes had exploded into luminous flame when they reached the walls. I was no stranger to magic after all I'd been through, even really flashy stuff thrown around by serious customers, but Celestia's effortless casting of such a fancy spell made everypony else look like amateurs. That's what thousands of years of study and practice got you, it seemed. When every square inch of the room was ablaze with tightly-packed formulae, the spell vanished into the walls, floor, ceiling and door. I blinked, and shook my head. I'd thought the room was quiet before, but all noise from outside had just been cut off. My breathing seemed deafening. The princess waved a hoof around the room. "For our privacy." She held my gaze long enough to be certain I understood how serious she was about keeping this conversation private, as if the jaw-dropping light show hadn't done the job. Whatever was coming was bound to be heavy stuff. "I must beg your pardon for never responding to Twilight Sparkle concerning you and your problems, Applejack." Celestia bent her head, actually bowing before me until the tip of her horn nearly brushed the floor. "N-no, Princess please!" I stretched out a hoof as if to force her head back up, but stopped well short, realizing how foolish that would be. "Her concerns were all-too legitimate, and worse, I'm no stranger to depression myself. I have no excuse for my silence. I'm just...weary." Celestia shook her head, settling back on her haunches. She made the small office look comically tiny, everything in it dwarfed by her scale. As grand as she was, once she had admitted her weariness, I could see the signs of it. Maybe she was allowing me to. Her wings sagged, and there were bags beneath her eyes, though somepony had used makeup to conceal them. Even her mane seemed to ripple more feebly than I remembered. "Ah can imagine, Princess. It's fine. Ah know tons of ponies write you and come to you in person 'bout their problems every day." Celestia shook her head, sending soft ripples through her ethereal mane. "While very true, that's not what I meant, dear Applejack. When I banished my sister Luna to the moon, I grieved for her, and for myself. I had a taste of depression then, but it wasn't for hundreds of years that the worst of it came upon me." Sadness touched her eyes and tugged at the corners of her mouth. For just a second, I let myself try to imagine what a year, a dozen years, or a hundred years of what I'd felt in the past few months would be like. I couldn't get any kind of purchase on the idea. All I knew was that I wasn't strong enough to weather misery on that scale. "Suffice it to say, I was thoroughly miserable, but often had to hide that fact in order to carry out my duties and maintain peace in Equestria." My breathing grew shallow, mind still trying to process this. My heart felt like it had swelled too much to let my lungs expand fully. Even the princess had dealt with depression, and for so long, hiding it like I had. "I should not complain however, for it is Luna who suffered most, and continues to suffer today." Celestia's head drooped again, but this time it was out of exhaustion. "Her sense of self-worth barely registers. A princess, invested with power nopony but I truly knows the scope of, co-ruler of the most peaceful and prosperous kingdom extant in our time, cannot be convinced she holds more value than a fleck of mud." She rose as if to start pacing, found that a single step brought her to the opposite wall, and turned back towards me with a flick of her ear. "She raises and sets the very moon, tends the dreams of our subjects like a twilit garden, and seems to hate herself as much as Nightmare Moon ever hated me." I found my mouth hanging open a little and snapped it shut. "Luna thinks so little of herself? She's...she's Princess Luna, though!" Not a rock-headed apple farmer who almost ruined everything good in her life. I frowned, mentally built a brick cube around that hurtful thought, and reminded myself how well I'd been doing. If my mindscape had been a physical place, it would have been as crowded as downtown Manehattan with the little structures. Celestia shut her eyes, and for just a flash, a fraction of a second, I thought I could see the hundreds and thousands of years that weighed on the princess. "She was also the pony that led a rebellion against me, dividing our kingdom into violently-warring factions, before I managed to banish her." Oh. Right. "Kinda puts my self-loathing into perspective." I tried to make it a joke, making my tone light, but I couldn't meet the princess' eyes while I said it. Celestia brushed my chin with a hoof, raising it, forcing my gaze back to hers. There was no getting away from her, no hiding in the tiny office. "We all have our struggles, Applejack, and measuring ours against another's is futile. That's a waste of time and energy we could be spending shoring each other up, instead." I nodded, and stepped a bit closer, before daring to stretch a leg up to rest a hoof on Celestia's shoulder. Her coat was warm, like she'd just stepped inside from a noontime sunbath. "Ah have no idea what Ah can do for you Princess, but Ah'm glad to listen." She nodded, her mane stretching out to brush my cheek. "I haven't slipped back into depression myself, but every day I endure Luna's tantrums and rants, or hear her sobbing in her room, I wonder how long I can be the cliff her sea of sorrow crashes upon." "Shoot. Ah thought we made such good progress that Nightmare Night with her! It didn't go so well at first, true, but—" Celestia smiled, but her lips trembled ever-so slightly, eyes bright, and shook her head. "Luna returned from that celebration pleased, but dwelt on the experience too long and hard. She drew wrong conclusions in the end. One was deciding she could only ever be loved as a boogiemare, not as her true self." I cringed, ears shrinking back from the words. It would only be too easy to come away with that lesson, that night. "I spend much of my energy caring for her, reassuring her, trying to drag her out of the morass she seems determined to remain in. When she doesn't allow me close enough for any of that, I'm left worrying about her." Celestia winced. "I'm afraid when Twilight wrote me about you, I destroyed the letter in a fit of pique." "'Ah can't handle two at once,' somethin' along those lines?" I asked, nodding, hoping sympathy was coming through in my tone. I had been wondering why Celestia was pouring her heart out to me like this. Now I thought I had part of the answer: guilt. She knew just how serious my problem was, but had been too wrapped up in her own pain to help. I couldn't muster any anger. I couldn't say I'd have done any better if my little sis had been lost in a depressive mire. "You give me too much credit I'm afraid, Applejack. An alicorn I may be, but I am not flawless, and my temper can get away from me." She waved a hoof between us. "It actually did me good. Letting off some steam was of some benefit, after what I'd kept bottled up for so long." She shook her head. "Listen to me prattling on about my problems. How are you coping?" I tapped my chin. "Well, Ah don't think of myself as poison anymore, so that's a step in the right direction. Ah'm on some medication that's helpin' me from falling into the deepest cracks. As for the farm, well, if we can get that tax repealed it would sure help a lot." Celestia smiled her familiar, benevolent smile and prepared to speak but I raised a hoof and cut her off. Part of me shrieked. You're interrupting Princess Celestia? "Ah can't exactly ignore all you just told me though, Princess. D'you have a, uhh, royal counselor?" Celestia pursed her lips and shook her head. "Not in the sense you mean, no. It would give ponies the wrong idea, and spread word of the diarchy's weakness if anypony knew my sister or I were seeing such a professional. We must cope on our own, making do with confidantes we keep close at hoof." She favored me with a wry little smile. "Princess, don't get me wrong, Ah'm flattered. Mah friends did what they could to help me, and one of them in particular was helpful, but only because she—" Well, if Celestia couldn't keep a secret, who could, "—had experience with depression herself, but Ah really didn't start gettin' truly better till Ah saw a real psychologist who cared about me and mah outcome." I saw Celestia shaking her head, but I waved a hoof at her and pressed on. "Ah know, appearances. You two can teleport anywhere you gosh-darn please, even better'n Twilight, right? Ah bet you can do fancier stuff than that too, like disguise yourselves, or hide entire rooms, who knows. The point is, you could sneak around with a doctor and nopony'd be the wiser, so long as the doc was honest." "You must understand Applejack, the political impact of such a thing coming to light would take the rest of your lifetime to abate. It would shake my ponies' faith in my sister and me, and bring our enemies baying to our door. It's not a chance we can afford to take," Celestia sighed, rising to her hooves. "Well...Ah hate to be pushy Princess, but can you afford not to chance it?" I gestured behind me. "Ah nearly let mah farm fail while Ah was depressed. Ah wasn't thinkin' straight. Ah wasn't making good decisions. Ah had no faith in others to understand what Ah was goin' through, so Ah took it all on mahself, and buckled. Now it will take you a hay of a lot longer to buckle Ah reckon, but it will happen, or Luna will go first." I spread my hooves to her in supplication. "Even if you two do manage to sort things out on your own in the end, doesn't it make sense to use the tools in reach now to speed up the process?" My ears splayed to the sides. "You princesses likely have a different idea of scale and all, bein' immortal, but the sooner you're both at one-hundred percent the better it'll be for Equestria." I took a deep breath to try and get past the fluttery feeling of panic welling up in my chest, then pointed in the direction of the protesters outside. "If you hadn't been distracted, worryin' about Luna, would this awful tax have made it past you?" I swallowed, the noise almost deafening in the sound-proofed room. This would have been hard if she'd been yards away, sitting on her throne, but she was close enough to touch. "D'you suppose that's the only lil oversight you've made lately? Can you promise it's the last?" Celestia frowned, and I wondered if I'd just bought myself a lunar vacation. She stood stock-still in that tiny office, which I'd begun to discover was overheated, only her mane shifting and billowing in an intangible breeze. "I suppose you may be right, Applejack. May I use you as my agent to arrange things with a suitable doctor?" I blinked, and stammered, "A—Ah, of course, but uh," "Who better than the Element of Honesty to locate a doctor honest enough to preserve the privacy of royal clients?" I swallowed, and found a voice in my head wondering if Doctor Love offered patients any sort of referral discount.