The Middle Distance

by Midnight herald

Chapter 1

Applejack stacked the last plates on the table and tried to pick them up when a yellow wing blocked her mouth firmly. She jerked back to see Fluttershy chiding her with a gentle smirk.

“I can take those, Applejack,” she said, gracefully sweeping the stoneware onto her back with the same wing. Applejack smiled in thanks and snagged the pitcher of apple juice before somepony else could, following Fluttershy into the kitchen closely. Fluttershy failed to stifle another yawn as she slid the dishes into the sink - she’d been doing that all through dinner. Applejack offloaded her jug and nuzzled at the base of Fluttershy’s neck softly.

“Ya sure you don’t wanna stay here tonight?” Applejack murmured, leading Fluttershy to the sitting room. Fluttershy blinked blearily and shook her head, yawning again. “Sugarcube, you’re exhausted.” Fluttershy shrugged.

“Belinda needs me right now,” she said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did.

“Belinda … she’s that badger, right?” Fluttershy nodded. “Right. Prolly needs her antibiotics and whatnot, huh?”

“And her painkillers,” Fluttershy added, shifting slightly. “Her bone didn’t quite set right the first time and I didn’t notice until it had started healing…” Her wings rustled softly in the empty silence between them. Her bloodshot eyes flicked momentarily to the clock, to the window before jumping guiltily back to Applejack.

Applejack smiled softly. “So you should probably head out, then?” she suggested. Even after all this time, Fluttershy felt uncomfortable asking to leave. Or really, asking for anything. The relief that shone from her soft blue eyes did wonders to wash away any petty irritations Applejack might’ve felt, and the soft kiss ‘Shy landed on her cheek certainly didn’t hurt. Another one of those damn yawns crawled out of Fluttershy’s throat and Applejack felt an old worry stirring in her chest.

It wasn’t a long walk to Fluttershy’s place, by any means, but … in this weather? When she’s this tired? Not that it was freezing quite yet, but still … “Fluttershy, you want me to walk you home?” Applejack offered by the front door. Fluttershy tensed a little.

“I’ll be fine, Applejack,” she answered smoothly, “but thanks for offering.”

“An’ you don’t need a scarf or a hat or anything?”

“I said I’ll be fine, Applejack,” Fluttershy said, her wings flaring minutely. Applejack flinched back, stung.

“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, glaring at the floor. “It was just a question…”

A beat of awkward silence landed heavy between them, until Fluttershy laid a feather-light hoof on Applejack’s shoulders. She smiled gently as Applejack looked up. “Goodnight, Applejack,” she whispered, pulling AJ in for a quick smooch. None of her previous … anger? frustration? showed on her face, and the tiny little knot in Applejack’s throat melted away. Fluttershy closed the door behind her to keep the autumn air outside. Applejack stared through the window at Fluttershy’s receding figure until the darkness and the swell of a hill swallowed her up.

“Goodnight,” she whisper-called to the door. Then she trotted into the kitchen to help clean up from dinner. No use lollygagging when there’s dishes in the sink.

---

The kitchen was clean beyond a doubt. Applejack had scrubbed the floors and stacked the dishes and shaken the curtains and brushed the cobwebs from the high corners of the ceiling. She’d been planning on washing down the walls themselves when Mac and Granny had stepped in and stopped her. So instead she’d gone upstairs like she always did, to tuck ‘Bloom in right and proper. She’d done it nearly every night since she’d gotten back from Manehattan, and she wasn’t ready to stop yet. Only now, apparently, Apple Bloom had gotten “too old for bedtime stories,” whatever that meant. As if there were such a thing. Applejack sighed and rolled over again, twisting herself up in sheets and blankets as she waited for sleep to come.

It was funny, how quickly she’d gotten used to somepony sleeping beside her. Her bed used to be just large enough, so she could spread out her tired legs after a long days’ work and not worry about waking up halfway through the night on the floor. But now, her eyes were drawn to the space left over, her tired imagination stretching it out to ridiculous lengths, until she shivered and curled in on herself at the shore of an ocean of rumpled bedsheets. Her ears pricked and swiveled and caught the ticking of the grandfather clock outside her room. She lay for countless, monotonous seconds before finally giving up the idea of sleep and wriggling from her warm cocoon of wool and flannel.

The old house had the bite of winter to it as Applejack crept through the hallway, her fur prickling against drafts. She peeked into Apple Bloom’s room and heard her little sister’s light breathing. As she turned to go, Winona trotted out to meet her. She nuzzled her dog gratefully and smiled when she got a long, wet kiss in return. After listening to Granny’s half-muttered nonsenses and Mac’s rumbling snores, the buzzing in Applejack’s head died down, more or less. But the fidget in her hooves and the tightness in her lungs stayed on, so she headed to the larder for a guilty pleasure. It wasn’t often that Applejack drank, less so since she and ‘Shy had thrown in together, but a couple nips of brandy here and then wasn’t hurting anypony, really. A couple mouthfuls would help her sleep tonight, the better to work in the morning. Applejack nosed around until she found her wide glass flask and carried it to the table.

One shot was enough to take the edge off her fluttering worries. The second brought a sudden clarity to the room around her, and a familiar, twitching need to move her hooves and do something. Her eyes wandered around the pristine living room, the glowing kitchen, the expertly-banked fireplace, the neatly coiled ropes, before landing on her flask one more time. She tilted the bottle just enough to fill the glass, then tossed it back in one smooth swallow, shuddering at the bitter warmth that ran down her spine. She settled back from the table and breathed deeply, slowly, waiting for her tired body to push her brain into submission.

The farmhouse had never felt so old, so huge. Applejack shivered and topped off her glass, eyeing the shadows as she tossed back her whiskey. The floor settled with a long, wooden groan, and Applejack jumped, snorting. It was all in her head, it was all just an old house being an old house and she was too tired to be up but she was just so lonely. Another feeling had started up near her heart, a horrible aching emptiness. She set aside the shot glass and grasped the bottle in her hooves, forcing burning, acrid mouthfuls down her tingling throat. Anything to fill the hole in her chest.

As the last drop of whiskey hit her tongue, the world made a bit more sense. Applejack was lonely. Why? Because she hadn’t spent any real time around Fluttershy for … a month or so. Was she sore about it? Of course. What did they do when they were sore about each other? They talked. Probably why they’d gotten on so well, really. Applejack clambered to her hooves and set about the process of walking across the floor, mindful of where her hooves landed. Wouldn’t do to set the house creaking while other ponies were asleep. She fumbled at the front door and staggered out onto the porch. Somepony had gone and messed with the stairs, too. She spat the worst of the dust out and wobbled her way to Fluttershy’s house. The stars were the clearest she’d seen in a while, even though the rest of the world was a little bit fuzzy. A wonderful, warm buzz ran through her veins, keeping the autumn chill at bay. She’d talk to Fluttershy before any more of this anger could build up. She’d fix this, just like she always did.

Applejack crept through the bushes as quietly as a stumbling, angry pony could possibly manage. Four ground squirrels ran out from her unsteady hooves, and one of ‘em … well, she’d spent enough time around Fluttershy to know it had a foul mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered. A lamp still shone out from ‘Shy’s living room. Applejack sighed in relief – waking ‘Shy up for this conversation could be nothing but a horrible idea.

The spare key was underneath the Rhododendron pot, same as ever. The cold copper tingled against her tongue as she unlocked the front door. She dropped the key on a side table as she crept towards the lamplight. She knocked on the side of the entryway softly and waited for Fluttershy to ask her in. Nothing. She knocked again, in case ‘Shy had been distracted. Instead of any answer, Angel Bunny hopped to where she swayed and furiously shushed her. Applejack blinked heavily and pushed past the rabbit to see what was going on.

Fluttershy lay in a sprawl across her green carpet, trembling in her sleep. Two feet from her, the badger cub … Belinda, swaddled and snoring, rolled over peacefully. All the confusion and petty anger wound up in Applejack’s chest fell apart. She tip-hooved over to Fluttershy’s side and eased the sleeping Pegasus onto her back. Fluttershy mumbled slightly as Applejack began moving, carrying her upstairs with the smoothest strides she could manage.

Applejack turned back Fluttershy’s covers, rolled her in, and smoothed them over her. She smiled softly as Fluttershy snuggled into her pillow with a sigh. Watching Fluttershy sleep, Applejack was stuck once again with how absolutely beautiful she was. Her long, flowing mane, near silver in the moonlight, had spread across the pillow in a cascade of silken hairs. Her long, slow breaths sent a meditative peace washing over Applejack, leaving her shoulders relaxed and her heart untroubled. She kissed Fluttershy’s forehead and settled back onto her haunches.

Cuckoo …. Cuckoo … cuckoo …. Cuckoo

Applejack jolted out of her trance and stared at Fluttershy’s clock, squinting to view the hands in the dim light. 4:00 am. And it’s my day to make breakfast… “Horseapples,” she whispered, clattering to a stand. She flew down the stairs and out the door, galloping unsteadily towards the Acres.