//------------------------------//
// Painting the Barn 
// Story: Immovable 
// by Purplescales42 
//------------------------------//

	It was late at night when Applejack woke up to what she thought was moaning. She got out of bed and left her room. She followed the sound to Iron's room. 
"What in tarnation is that stallion moanin' about?" she asked herself. 
“COPPER!” screamed Iron suddenly. Applejack quickly ran to his room and opened the door. She saw him sitting upright in his bed. He was wincing and holding his side. The bandages from the hospital had been removed but there were stitches in his left side. 
"Iron, what's wrong?!" asked Applejack. Iron looked at her. He was breathing heavily and sweating a little. He looked like he had just seen a ghost.
“Huh? What?" he asked. He shook his head a couple times and composed himself. "Something wrong?"
"I heard you screamin,'" explained Applejack a little confused.
"Oh." Iron looked away in embarrassment. "Sorry. Just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about."
"Are you sure?"
"Mhm." The two just looked at each other in awkward silence.
"Um, you shouted somethin' about copper," Applejack began. "Is that-"
"Didn't you say that we'd need to get up early?" Iron interrupted.
"Well, yeah, but-"
"Well, goodnight then." Iron laid back down with his back facing Applejack. Not exactly sure how to respond, Applejack decided to take her leave. When she was gone, Iron turned over onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
"Gonna be one of those nights again, huh?" he sighed.

***

Iron was up early the next morning. He stood in front of the barn with two large buckets of red paint. Due to his injuries, it would be a couple weeks until he could do the more strenuous labor around the farm. For now, he was given some light tasks that mainly involved fixing up the barn. Fortunately, there was a lot to fix up so he didn't have to worry about getting bored. His first assignment was to repaint the barn.  
He gave a loud yawn. It was difficult getting back to sleep after that nightmare he had. He picked up his paint brush, dipped it into one of the cans, and painted the wall as high as he could reach. The job was dull and monotonous. When he had painted as much as he could, Iron stepped back and looked at the wall. Only about the bottom half was done. With a sigh, he spit out the paintbrush in his mouth into one of the buckets and went into the barn where he found a paint roller on a large stick as well as a tray to hold paint in. He grabbed the supplies and went back outside.
Holding the roller in hooves was irritating. It was times like this, where he envied creatures with fingers. Eventually, he resorted to holding the roller in his mouth which felt very awkward. Not helping was the fact that he constantly had to keep himself angled so that his good eye was facing the wall so he could see. It was noon before he finally finished that one side of the barn. He was annoyed, tired, and covered in bad smelling paint. He stood back and examined his handiwork. Maybe he did better than he thought. 
He didn’t.
The brushstrokes were all over the place and uneven. It was easy to tell where he had stopped using the brush and started using the roller. Iron plopped down on his stomach and groaned in frustration. 
“Givin’ up already, sonny?” asked Granny Smith as she approached him from his right. She was holding a small lunchbox. Iron sat up and rolled his neck getting those satisfying popping sounds. 
“This isn’t exactly the kind of work I’m used to,” he told her. Granny looked at the wall and smiled.
“Eh, Ah’ve seen it look worse.”
“Really?”
“Well, not much worse,” she admitted. Iron chuckled. 
“I guess that makes me feel a little better.” He stood up and headed towards the barn. “Don’t worry, Granny Smith, I’ll get this painted before the day’s end.”
“Ah’m sure ya will but how’s about takin’ a break fer lunch?” she offered. Iron’s stomach growled in agreement.
“Sounds great.” Granny set the lunchbox by him. He opened it up and pulled out an apple.
"Feelin' any better after last night?" she asked. Iron took a took a large bite out of the apple chomping off at least half of it in one bite.
"You heard that, huh?" he asked after he swallowed.
"Kinda hard not to. Ya shout real loud."
"Sorry."
"No need to apologize," Granny assured him. "We all get them night terrors every now and then." Iron nodded and finished the apple in another bite. "Is Copper a pony ya know?" Iron rolled his eyes. Why did everypony care about it?
"Copper is a pony I used to know," he said. "Somepony I'm trying to forget about."
"Why would ya want to go and do that fer?"
"I have a lot of painful memories associated with Copper," replied Iron. "I'd rather just forget them."  Granny shook her head slowly. "What?"
"If ya'll let an old pony give a little advice," she started, "it ain't good to just up and ferget somepony. Even if the memories hurt ya, they're a part of ya. Lose those and ya lose a part of yerself." Iron didn't reply as Granny stood up and started to leave. "Enjoy your lunch, Iron. And don't go hurtin' yerself." Iron just nodded absentmindedly and finished his lunch.

***

Iron finished lunch quickly, eager to get back to work. As dull as it was, he never liked leaving a job unfinished and now it was a personal challenge to improve upon what he saw as an embarrassing failure. It also took his mind off of what Granny Smith told him. It was none of anypony's business what he wanted to forget or remember. 
After some experimenting with the roller, he finally figured out he could hold it steady enough in both forehooves while standing on his hind legs. This put a little strain on his injuries requiring him to stop occasionally to let the pain die down. He used the regular brush as much as possible. 
He managed to get another wall done and this time it almost looked like he knew what he was doing. The coat was still uneven but the brush strokes were a little less chaotic looking than before. He sat down to let his side stop hurting and check the stitches to make sure they didn’t break or anything. He took a sip from a water canteen Granny gave him and noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to see Apple Bloom coming down the road covered with mud and chicken feathers. She looked a little depressed.
“Hey, there, Miss Apple Bloom,” he greeted. Apple Bloom looked up at him and gave him a weak smile.
“Hey, Mister Ore,” she greeted.
“You can just call me ‘Iron’ you know.”
“Well you can just call me ‘Apple Bloom’ ya know,” she retorted. 
“Touché.” Apple Bloom didn’t reply as she made her way towards the house. “Um, do you mind if I asked what happened?” Apple Bloom stopped and sat down where she was.
“My friends and I tried to get are Cutie Marks again,” she said somberly.
“Again?” asked Iron. Apple Bloom nodded.
“My friends and I have a club called the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” she explained. “We try all sorts of stuff to find our special talents.”
“Did this previous endeavor work?” Apple Bloom gave him an annoyed glare and looked at her blank flank.
“What do you think?” she said coldly.
“Sorry,” apologized Iron.
“Naw, it’s okay,” she said. “I shouldn’t be so rude.”
“Well, if you’re looking for your special talent, want to see if painting is it?” he asked holding out a paint brush.
“Already tried that,” she said.
“Well, you want to help just for fun then?” Apple Bloom thought about it for a moment before shrugging and walking up to him She took the paint brush in her mouth and dipped it in the paint can. “So, um, what exactly were you doing that involved mud and chickens?”
“Dnt ashk,” she replied, her words muffled a bit by the brush. The two spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the paint job. They even had time to touch up the parts that Iron messed up earlier. The two sat by the barn admiring their handiwork. It wasn’t perfect, but he had to admit, he was proud of himself for finishing it. He noticed that there was still some paint left in the last can.
“So what are we gonna do with this extra paint?” he asked. Apple Bloom got an evil smile on her face. She dipped her brush in the can covering it in paint and swiping it on Iron’s side. “Hey!” 
“You look good in red,” she laughed. Iron smirked before grabbing his own brush and dipping it in the can. Apple Bloom screamed and ran off.
“Hey, get back here!” shouted Iron as he chased a laughing Apple Bloom around the barn. Finally, he stopped letting Apple Bloom come around the barn to him where he promptly smacked her face with his brush. “You looked pretty good in red too. Although with the mud and feathers it looks like you got into a pretty nasty fight with a chicken.” Apple Bloom laughed as the two sat down exhausted. “You feel better?”
“Yeah,” said Apple Bloom. She looked at Iron’s Cutie Mark which was slightly covered in paint. “Hey, Iron?”
“Hm?”
“How’d ya get yer Cutie Mark? Is it for mountain climbing?” Iron chuckled.
“Not exactly.” He sat there for a moment as he thought back to the moment in question. “Do you want me to tell the story?”
“Yeah!” said Apple Bloom excitedly. 
“Well, alright then,” said Iron with a chuckle. “It started when I was a still a little colt. I probably wasn’t much older than you. My little sister, Gold Nugget was being picked on by a bully named Quarry. He had gotten his Cutie Mark recently and was making life miserable for those who didn't have theirs yet."
"Sounds like somepony Ah know," said Apple Bloom.
"I see. Well, Quarry had a bad habit of going out of his way to even beat up ponies without Cutie Marks. Gold Nugget was one of them."
"That's terrible!" exclaimed Apple Bloom. Iron nodded. "What'd ya'll do?"
"Well, at first I was too scared to do something," admitted Iron. "But when my sister started crying out for me to help her, I couldn't just ignore her. So, I threw myself in front of Goldie and let Quarry and his goons beat me up instead."
"Didn't that hurt?"
"Oh, yeah. I was a lot smaller than." Iron laughed a little. "Actually, I used to be teased for being short."
"Yeah, right," giggled Apple Bloom.
"Hey, I'm serious," said Iron lightly nudging the filly with his elbow. "Anyway, they told me to back off but I stood my ground. I swore right then and there that no one would ever get me to back down when somepony I cared about was in danger. I bucked Quarry as hard as I could. He and his friends ran off. That's when this showed up." He looked at the Cutie Mark on his flank.
“Cool story,” said Apple Bloom. “But I’m still confused.”
“What do you mean?” asked Iron.
“What exactly is your special talent? Being strong?”
“I guess that’ some of it,” answered Iron. “However, I got it because I held my ground. Like a mountain, I stood strong and immovable. I wasn’t going to let Quarry or his goons hurt my sister or intimidate me. Understand?”
“I think so. I guess Cutie Marks don’t always relate to a career.” Iron shook his head.
“Not always. But one thing to remember is that your Cutie Mark is linked to something already inside you. Focus on those things about you that you are already good at. You might find what you want is right under your nose."
“Hey, you two!” called Applejack. The two saw her walking up to them. “I thought you two were suppose to be paintin’ the barn not each other.” Iron and Apple Bloom looked at each other than back at her with nervous smiles.
“Had to figure out what to do with the rest of the paint,” explained Iron.
“Ah see. Well, you two git on over to the house for a bath. Try not to track paint everywhere.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, Sis,” said Apple Bloom compliantly. She and Iron put the paint supplies away before heading to the house. “Hey, Iron?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks for the story. And fer hangin’ out with me. I feel a lot better.” Iron smiled at her.
“Anytime.”