//------------------------------// // Blood on Blood // Story: A Bruised Apple // by ThaStrangr //------------------------------// Apple Bloom inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet, enticing smell of fresh apples. She seated herself in the soft soil that surrounded the family’s barn, feeling the wind blowing through her hair. She closed her eyes and allowed the sounds of branches rustling and birds chirping to drift through her ears. It was a blissful sound, one which wiped the rest of the world away. Everything around her stopped. Everything, save for one, distinct sound. It was a rough, deep thumping, which seemed to be growing in volume with each passing instant. Slowly, her eyes drifted open, allowing her to take in the inspiring light of Celestia’s grace. Her eyes shot back in forth in search of the sound’s source. She turned just in time to catch an orange shape as it came down on her. “Argh!” Apple Bloom squealed. She struggled under the weight of the filly that had pounced on her. “Apple Bloom!” The little orange pony lept up and down above her, a truly ecstatic grin plastered on her face. “We were so worried about you. How ya holdin’ up?” Apple Bloom’s head was spinning for a moment, making the world around her shake. When she had recomposed herself, she looked up to the the figure standing over her. “Um, not ta sound rude, but… could ya get off me, please?” The captor’s face gained a subtle hint of red as she stepped away, allowing her prisoner to lift herself into a standing position. “Thanks. I see ya already know my name. Who’re you?” She pointed between her attacker and a white filly standing next to her. They paused a moment, clearly stricken by this comment. The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken with the orange filly’s forced laughter. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Bloom. We’ve only been worrying ourselves half to death about you these past four days. No big deal, right?” She broke into a glare as she walked slowly towards the pony in front of her. “I really don’t know what yer-” “Ya know, for a while, we were sure you weren’t gonna make it.” “But-” “AJ had completely forgotten that we were there, right across the street.” “Scoots,” the white filly finally cut in, attempting to calm her friend, who now had liquid forming in her eyes. “I watched the blood pour out of your head! And you have the nerve to make stupid jokes right now?!” By this point, she was practically nose-to-nose with Apple Bloom, forcing the little yellow pony back to the ground. “Just who the hay do you think you ar-” “SCOOTALOO!” The white filly shouted as loud as her small vocal chords would permit. “Look at her. Do you really think this is a joke?” Scootaloo turned back to a heart wrenching sight. The filly huddled beneath her had water leaking from her eye sockets and was shaking violently. “I’m sorry,” Bloom said as she covered her head with her forelegs, “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.” Scootaloo seated herself next to her terrified friend and wrapped her foreleg around her. “No, Bloom, I’m sorry. I thought you were just messing around, and joking about something like that…” She raised a hoof up, and Apple Bloom lifted her head to inspect it. There was a dark stain, with a slight reddish hue. “When we saw Spike and Applejack starting to cart you off, we tried chasing. I stepped in your blood and I just kinda froze. It splashed, and landed on Sweetie Belle’s,” she motioned to the other filly, who replied with a wide smile and an overly-energetic wave, revealing a similar stain on her shoulder, “shoulder. She helped me get home. I got into the bath, and… It was like it was sown into my fur. No matter how hard I scrubbed, it just wouldn’t come off. Sweetie Belle had to take a bottle of hair-dye from Rarity’s before we could go out anywhere.” Sweetie Belle smiled and walked over, taking her place in front of them. “But,” Sweetie opened, “I started thinking about it differently. It’s not just blood, it’s a link between you and us. A stronger bond. I read about an old tradition shared between the best of friends.” She curled her tail up to her mouth, locking her teeth around something and pulling it out. A small sewing needle glistened in sunlight. Apple Bloom eyed the utensil with curiosity. Before she could react, Sweetie Belle poked her own foreleg, followed by Scootaloo’s, and finally hers. The white filly dropped the needle and brought the injured legs together, pressing the wounds tightly against each other. “This is an oath, that we will always be together. No matter how difficult things become, we will always be there for each other.” Scootaloo raised her brow at her friend. “Umm, Sweetie Belle? We pretty much already made that promise. ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders for life’ remember?” “These past few days have had me thinking. The ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’ is fun and has been really special, but eventually, it’ll fade. This is a true, honest-to-goodness bond we’re forming.” “I’m just sayin’, I think I’ve had more than enough blood staining my coat.” “Don’t worry, I’m prepared.” Sweetie reached into a nearby bag Apple Bloom hadn’t initially noticed, which brought an obvious question to her mind. “Sweetie Belle, right?” The little white filly smiled with a set of bandage sheets hanging from her mouth. “If ya had that bag, why didja carry the needle in yer tail?” Sweetie attempted to respond, but her voice was muffled as her mouth was still occupied. Scootaloo rolled her eyes and snatched the bandages from Sweetie’s mouth, then beginning to wrap them around each wound. “Thanks. I put it in my tail because, if I put it in the bag, it would have ripped it and everything would have fallen out.” Apple Bloom looked over to Scootaloo, who merely shrugged. She glanced back over to Sweetie, still donning that goofy grin, and started to laugh for no real reason at all. Not long after, the other two joined in. They fell to the ground, shaking with their uncontrollable cackles. They sat up in their original positions for a few seconds, allowing their lungs to take in some much needed oxygen, before Scootaloo wrapped her forelegs around the other two and pulled them into a firm embrace, which Sweetie returned happily. Apple Bloom hesitated for an instant, before throwing her hooves around her friends. They turned to her with smiles, their faces practically glowing with their glee. “There is one little thing I remember,” the yellow farm-pony began, “I remember that bein’ with you girls has been the happiest time of my life.” “Me, too,” assured Scootaloo, pulling her injured foreleg, now wrapped, around and lifting it into the circle’s center. Apple Bloom followed suit. “Likewise,” stated the third filly of the group, joining her wrapped wound with the others. A few moments passed before anypony moved. Sweetie Belle stood and moved closer to Scootaloo, whispering something softly in her ear. When she pulled away, Scootaloo turned to her and nodded, also getting to her hooves. The pair pulled Apple Bloom up and gestured for her to follow them. They began to walk and she kept a steady pace behind. They wandered off of the acres of the farm, and the amnesiac filly began to wonder just where she was being led to. After rounding one tree, she saw it. It was a particularly small building, painted a shade near peach, resting in a tree. They led her inside, through the little door with a heart painted on it. The floorboards of the interior were some shade of green, the walls a yellowish brown. Windows and pictures adorned the walls, and a hatch rested in the ceiling. It was all brand new to her, but it felt so familiar. “What is this?” “It’s the clubhouse for the ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’,” Sweetie happily replied, “When we’re not scheming to get our cutie marks, we come here and hang out for a while.” Apple Bloom glanced here and there, taking note of everything. Her eyes rested on a small picture nearby. It was a recent addition, not yet in it’s frame. She walked over to it, lifting it with her hoof and inspecting it. It displayed three small ponies who had seemingly toppled over each other. A small orange filly lie crushed under a white filly, while a yellow filly stretched across the floor nearby. “We took that a couple of months back,” Scootaloo explained, “trying for our gymnastics cutie marks. After the incident, we felt it belonged in here.” The two stood beside Apple Bloom, gazing down at the image in her grasp. Even without her memory, the picture and the idea behind it touched her heart. Though she couldn’t remember them, her friends still held tight to their bond, and her family welcomed her back with smiles. Because they knew it wasn’t her fault, and they knew that eventually her memory would be restored. But she couldn’t help but wonder… how would they treat her if it wasn’t?