“C’mon, Sweetie, you hafta eat.”
“…I’m fine.”
“Sweetie, you ain’t fine! Ya haven’t had a lick o’ chow all day!”
Sweetie Belle stared at the bowl of soup. Her magic lit up, and slowly the spoon rose to her mouth… before clattering back to the floor.
“Aw, c’mon, what the hay!”
“I… I can’t… I—” Sweetie turned green for a moment, before she stood up suddenly, sprinting to the bathroom.
“Horseapples,” muttered Apple Bloom, as retching noises emerged from across the way.
“Don’t even bother,” Scootaloo muttered. “If she wants to starve herself, let ‘er. More food for us anyways.”
“Scoots, don’t be mean,” pouted Apple Bloom in response. “Filly’s just… a little shaken up, is all!”
“Yeah, to put it lightly.” Scootaloo sighed miserably. “Look, she didn’t eat before, she isn’t gonna eat now. Just leave her alone. She’ll figure her own deal soon enough.”
Scootaloo wondered if her friend would ever break from her stupor. It had been a week since the looting incident, and she hadn’t been the same since.
Then again, none of them really had.
Sweetie Belle was, obviously, dealing with it the worst. The first few days after it had happened, she hadn’t said a word, or even eaten. She had just stared silently into space most of the time, only getting up to maybe barf or use the bathroom. Apple Bloom seemed to be handling it better than both of them, and continued to go about her day as if nothing had happened, even after learning that her entire family might be... well, dead.
Scootaloo couldn’t help but be somewhat jealous of Apple Bloom’s mental fortitude; almost every night she would wake up in a cold sweat, dreams haunted by the face of that scarlet mare, empty eyes staring at nothing as blood and brainmeal poured from her forehead.
She glanced at the red stain on the floor. By the time they had finally worked up the courage to touch Scarlet’s body, flies had already begun swarming around the decaying corpse. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had dragged it out the front, tossed it over the threshold, and slammed the door shut—but not before Apple Bloom had a chance to purge her lunch in the bushes.
They had then spent the rest of the day trying to clean the blood and guts from the floor, and while most of it had come out, some had seeped into the wooden flooring, staining it permanently. Now, that red splotch in front of the door was all that remained from that evening.
Scootaloo shuddered again as she glanced at the door. Nopony had come knocking since—probably because of the corpse lying out front. If there was a side benefit to that night, it was that they now essentially had a supercharged scarecrow to freak out anypony that might be entertaining another break-in.
Knock.
…Or not.
Scootaloo glanced up, eyes wide with fear. “What the hay…?
“Shh. Hang on a sec.” Apple Bloom stood up, donning her sister’s Stetson as she rose.
“Whoa there, cowgirl, don’t forget the gun,” said Scootaloo, pointing at the revolver on the table.
Knock knock.
“Hey, anypony home?”
“…Right, good thinkin’.” Apple Bloom gingerly picked up the pistol, readying it before trotting over to the door. She peered through the crack just underneath the curtain of the door’s window.
“Who is it?” Scootaloo whispered.
“I dunno,” Apple Bloom replied. “Somepony with a gun and a huge rucksack.”
Scootaloo tensed. “A gun?”
“Yeah, a big one, like a Whinnchester or somethin’, but… it ain’t raised. Doesn’t look like he wants to fight or anythin’. He’s just standin’ there, leanin’ against the side of the door. Looks plum tuckered out, too.”
Scootaloo stewed in her thoughts. Maybe he just needs help or a place to rest?
But if he was dangerous…
Knock knock.
“I just wanna trade. That’s a library, right? If you need any supplies or food, I’m willing to spare some for a few stacks of books.”
Scootaloo looked around the room, where tomes lay strewn everywhere. She spared another glance at the kitchen, where she knew their remaining stock of food had dwindled to near-nothing thanks to the break-in.
So it’s not like they had anything to steal.
“…Answer him.”
“Really? What should I say?”
“I dunno, just ask him what he wants.”
Apple Bloom turned back to the door. “Um, hi mister?”
“Well howdy there, missy! Say, you mind lettin’ me in for a spell? It’s mighty cold out here, and I’m a tad worried about the snipers. Also, I think this dead mare is starin’ straight at me. Givin’ me the willies.”
“Listen, we have a g-gun, and barely any food or anythin’ left to spare.” Apple Bloom warned, raising the weapon. “Don’t think you can fool us if you wanna get inside and steal what we’ve got left.”
A moment passed.
“…I promise I ain’t here to make trouble. I’m just lookin’ to trade for some kindlin’, and maybe water if ya have any.”
Apple Bloom stared at Scootaloo, silently asking what to do.
Scootaloo merely shrugged in response.
“…Okay, mister, we’ll let you in. But don’t try anything funny! We have a gun!”
“Heh, as you’ve informed me, little miss. I’ll behave, promise.”
Apple Bloom slowly opened the door, and in stepped the stallion, a large earth pony with a turquoise coat and a white mane. As she had mentioned, he was carrying a gargantuan rucksack, which he barely managed to squeeze in the door.
“Howdy there, kids!” he said with a jolly grin, staring around the library with a low whistle. “Mare, that’s a lotta books! Jackpot.” He glanced at Scootaloo, who narrowed her eyes at him. “Err… say, where are your parents?”
“They ain’t here,” said Apple Bloom, slamming the door and leveling the gun at him. “Drop yer rifle.”
“Err, whoa!” He raised his hooves in alarm, turning around to face the other filly. “S'alright, no need for any hostilities!” He dropped his weapon, as requested.
“The bag too,” ordered Apple Bloom.
“Well sure, hafta if I’m gonna look through it for anythin’ to trade!” He dropped that too.
“…Girls, who is this?” came a voice to their right. They turned to see a shaky Sweetie Belle stumble out of the bathroom, eyes wide with fear. “Is he… is he here to kill us like the other ponies?”
“So that explains the dead body outside,” the stallion thought aloud.
“He says he just wants to trade,” replied Apple Bloom, staring at the other filly. “…Say, Sweetie, you alright there? You look a li’l under the weather…”
“I… I don’t trust him,” mumbled Sweetie deliriously, and Scootaloo just now noticed that she wasn’t quite looking straight ahead. “Tell him to... to take a…”
She toppled to the floor.
“Sweetie!” shouted Scootaloo, rushing to her. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?! Are you okay?”
“Mm… so cold…” she whispered, hugging herself and shivering.
“Uh-oh,” the stallion muttered. “Bad time?”
“Scoots, what’s wrong with her?!” asked Apple Bloom worriedly.
“I dunno! She just fainted!”
“Is she sick?!”
“Looks like she’s comin’ down with a fever,” the stallion offered. “Was there anything out of the ordinary with her over the last few days?”
“She… she’s been eatin’ very little, and throwin’ up a lot,” explained Apple Bloom frantically, all signs of distrust evaporating in an instant. “We didn’t think much of it, somethin’ bad had happened just a few days ago…”
“Yeah, I can tell.” He glanced at the door again. “Well, if you get her into a bed, give her some medicine, and keep her warm for a few days, it should pass.”
“We don’t have any medicine,” growled Scootaloo angrily. “The looters took it all.”
“And the only bed’s upstairs,” added Apple Bloom. “Don’t think it’s safe up there, on account of the bombs.”
“…Have you all been sleeping on the floor or something?” He stared disbelievingly, before shaking his head. “Never mind for now. I… might have some medicine on me. Let me check.” The stallion trotted over to his rucksack.
“Please, if it’ll help Sweetie…”
“Mm, sure, but I’m afraid I can’t part with it unless I get a little something in return… Ah, here we go.” He held up a little plastic bottle. “Should be enough in here for a week or so. All I need is some kindling for a fire. There’s a lot of books in here that’ll do the trick.”
Apple Bloom glanced around. “But these are all Twilight’s…”
“Oh c’mon, Apple Bloom. Sweetie Belle’s sick. She needs medicine a heckuva lot more than a bunch of stupid books.”
“I dunno. I mean, if it were our stuff, I’d toss ‘em in a heartbeat, but… it ain’t our stuff…”
The stallion sighed. “Listen, there’s a cold weather front closin’ in fast. Nopony knows what it might be, but it ain’t slowin’ down. My people are gonna need somethin’ to keep warm, and I’m pretty darn sure you kids will too, if you know what’s good for ya. I’m bettin’ these books will be a part of a roarin’ fire in here in a few days time.”
Apple Bloom gave him a flat look. “You know we’re in a tree, right? We can just burn the wood.”
Scootaloo was about to remind her that the tree was "magical", but thought better of it.
“Yeah, I doubt you want this thing tumblin’ atop your heads after stripping it for wood,” he rebutted anyways. “Look, I got some food too, if it helps. Canned beans 'n fruits. And I’ll help ya drag the mattress from upstairs down here too. All I want is any books y’all can spare.”
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom shared a look, before turning back to him. “Fine,” declared Scootaloo. “Medicine first. Then bed. Then food. Then we’ll help you pick out some books.”
“Deal. Now let’s get to work.”
As Apple Bloom and the trader went upstairs to drag the mattress down, Scootaloo tended to Sweetie Belle, who had knocked out in the minutes that they had been conversing with the trader. It didn’t take much effort to coax her awake long enough to take one of the pills, but she immediately fell back asleep afterwards.
A few minutes later, they had gotten the mattress and a few blankets onto the floor downstairs. With Sweetie Belle tucked in, the two fillies began combing through the library to see what could be given away.
“I’m pretty sure most of these are just reference material,” the trader explained as he began stacking food cans from his rucksack. “I doubt the librarian kept anything too personal down here.”
“I dunno, I just found a first-edition Darin’ Do,” Apple Bloom piped up, pulling the book from the shelf. “And it’s signed, too. Doubt Twilight would wanna part with somethin’ like this.”
“Whatever, I could just ask my mom to sign her another copy,” Scootaloo grumbled, tossing a bunch of books nonchalantly into the growing pile in the middle.
“’Mom’?” The trader glanced up from the pile of food. “You mean your mother is A.K. Yearling?”
“Not important.”
“It don’t matter anyways, yer missin’ my point.“ continued Apple Bloom. “My point is—“
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Some of these may be important to Twilight. I’ll keep an eye out. But seriously, I’m pretty sure she’d understand if it meant making sure Sweetie Belle got better.”
“…Yeah, fair enough.”
A few minutes passed in silence as they separated more books from the piles on the floor.
“Say, um, mister trader?” asked Apple Bloom.
“Yeap?”
“Ain’t it dangerous outside? How’d ya even get here?”
“Heh. Luck, really. I found a path that snuck between buildings, from where I’m holed up to this clearing. Made a mad dash for the tree. Some of the upper branches fell off, so there’s some cover between me and the snipers.”
“Snipers?”
He sighed. “Yeah. Perched all over town now. Some are ours, some Gryphosi, some are bandits having fun.”
“That’s… kinda morbid,” muttered Apple Bloom.
“Tell me about it,” he replied darkly. “Regardless, they’re pretty much shooting anything that moves now. Even for our soldiers, it’s hard to tell who’s a bandit and who's just another pony. Lots o’ bodies in the streets. Ain’t a pretty sight.”
Apple Bloom shuddered at the thought, while Scootaloo did her best to shake the disturbing mental image from her mind.
“And you decided it was worth risking getting sniped to come here?”
“A lot of ponies are relyin’ on me. We’ve got plenty of food where we’re holed up, but the insulation there’s pretty poor, so it gets real cold at night. I’m surprised you kids haven’t felt it yet. Guess this tree’s pretty hardy.” He clopped a hoof on the floor, as if to test it.
“Yeah, it’s done us pretty good so far,” agreed Apple Bloom. “Hey, listen… why not have your folks join us here?”
“Apple Bloom…” warned Scootaloo.
“No, seriously. It’s warm, and there’s plenty of room, and, hay, it’s a bit lonely in here…”
“Can’t agree to that, unfortunately,” replied the stallion as he set one last can on the floor and began piling books into his rucksack. “I’d love to, but we’re a bit grounded in. Couple ponies we can’t really move—pregnant and whatnot. Plus a lotta supplies, and equipment that’d be hard to tear down.”
“Oh… I guess that makes sense.”
“You could always join us, hmm?” he said with a warm smile.
“I… don’t think so,” replied Scootaloo. “Rainbow and Twilight told us to stay put here. Said it’s the safest spot in the entire town.”
“Hmm. Well, alright then. Can’t say I blame ya, this tree’s pretty hardy.” The trader stood up. “But hey, offer’s still on the table. And if you end up not changin’ your mind, it’ll be good to have someponies here keepin’ watch on the books.”
“Heh. That we can do.”
“Grand!” He stepped out the door. “I’ll be back in a few days, in case either of us needs supplies, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Apple Bloom followed him up to the door. “Hey, Mister… thanks. We were startin' to think there weren't nopony out there left to trust.”
He patted her atop her Stetson. “Any time, kiddo. Some of us are still tryin' to get by, just like you.” He smiled sadly at the fillies. “Stay safe, ya hear?”
She nodded, and as he left, she closed the door.
“Well. That wasn’t so bad!” grinned Apple Bloom.
A shot rang from just outside.
“Horseapples!” Scootaloo rushed over to peer out the window.
The trader was still there, taking cover behind a large piece of fallen debris. He glanced back at the door, waved his hoof once towards the Crusaders, then quickly dashed out of sight.
“Wow,” said Scootaloo in awe. “Sure moves fast for somepony with a metric flankload on his back.”
“I hope he’ll be okay…”
“Yeah.”
They turned around and gazed towards the bundle of blankets on the mattress, within which dozed their sick friend.
Thanks to that trader, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.