Horseshoes

by Peter Yellowhammer

Changes

Caramel was swimming.

His body was suspended on pure energy, coiling and tightening in his legs. All he had to do was jerk his left hind hoof to get a jolt of ecstacy racing through him, making him tremble as it clashed with the muted sorrow still beating with his heart. One jolt after another, and the sorrow became that much weaker...until it was barely there at all.

He was free. He was out of that harsh office and back home. And he was strong.

Caramel blinked. When his eyes took in the outskirts of Ponyville again, it all seemed softer, warmer, more welcoming. The skies were a little bluer, the grass was a little taller, and the yellow-hot sun blazed merrily above him. It was enough to make him break into song. Maybe he would take up singing, now? He certainly wouldn't ruin the electronic equipment now! In fact, he was curious as to why the good doctor didn't want to hear his impromptu rendition...perhaps Dr. Cardio was more of the opera type.

…Realizing just where he was, he rolled off of the wonderful Big Macintosh and hard-working Applejack.

“I'm terribly sorry about that,” he intoned diplomatically. “You just have to understand, this is incredibly strange and wonderful for me. I can hardly interpret what occurs around me sometimes!”

His dear friends looked to each other. They were probably glad to be back home.

“...Eeyup, it's good we got you back here,” confirmed Applejack as she looked back to him.

“Oh, isn't that a nice reversal!”, commented Caramel. “You mimicked your brother's vernacular! That's a sweet little reference, kudos! You seem more like him just for saying it.”

Was he jumping? It felt like he was trying to fly. Well, the sky was the limit on that account! Literally! But the handsome Big Macintosh caught him in mid-air by his mane. That was an odd way to catch a pony, but he supposed it worked well enough. He needed to wash his hair.

Mac then tossed him onto a big, red pony's back. From where did that come? The world was full of mysteries...

“Mel, Ah'm thinkin' you could use a nap,” the delicious stallion grunted from somewhere around him.

A nap? That was a preposterous idea! He felt great! He felt like running up and down the Canterlot mountains! He felt like throwing a thousand horseshoes, catapulting into the great frontier, stomping his hooves into the mighty earth to...make it...tremble...Mac's hair was so soft, so warm...

Caramel was swimming.

Big Macintosh turned off the water and submerged the sleeping Caramel. After a couple of hours of not talking crazy in the bed, it became clear the sheets needed to be washed from the sweaty pony's...well, sweat. So he decided to give him a bath while they hung out to dry. The dry summer wind blew quietly into the bathroom from the open window, rustling his mane a little. He felt itchy...he decided to sit next to his shod stallion in the tub, relishing the hot water from hoof to shoulder.

“We shoulda done this before...heh heh. It's jus' too bad yer in dreamland.”

He soaked a simple brush in the bathwater and in liquid soap to scrub behind Mel's ears. He always liked how the cute little things poked out defiantly next to that big, parted mane. Of course, that brown mane was heavy with water now, clinging to the colt's face and neck in long strands...hugging his little ears, covering his sweetheart eyes, letting the odd droplets fall down his cheeks...he really should have done this before.

Showering just wasn't the same; sitting right there in the calm water, massaging the dirt off Mel's hide fur as Mel just kept breathing deeply, in and out, his chest rising and falling...

Mel snorted. Mac giggled and kissed his now clean forehead, nuzzling the wet hair a little.

The silly pony fell asleep right there on his back; it was the cutest thing. Those shod hooves seemed to want to bounce off of his hide, though. The metal had given him a few bruises to nurse, but at least this was a good time to do so. It would be interesting to teach the pony to handle those shoes correctly, that was for sure. The metal was cool to the touch, too...maybe that would be useful for something. Ahem.

Mac picked up Mel's front right leg and started scrubbing it. His own hoof could vaguely feel the nails embedded in the flesh. Knowing full well he would regret it, he twisted the leg into waves and circles: the nails indeed seemed to twist with the rest of the leg. It was enlightening, in a sickening way, to see how flexible a pony's legs were when they seemed like they should be stiff. This pony seemed to defy reason every chance he got.

“...Babe, whut am Ah gonna do with you?”

He bent over slightly to scrub the pony's back. Mel keep breathing, in and out.

“T'ain't over 'cuz you got shod, even if'n you think that. Ponies are gonna stare at you, you gotta watch t'see you don' hurt others, an' maybe stuff Ah cain't even think of. Ah jus' hope you weren't blowin' hot air when you said you can take it, Ah really do.”

The summer day blew some hot air into the bathroom. Mac realized he should have shut the window, but he was too busy being wet. He opted to gently rub the dirt off Mel's shoes instead, closing his eyes to keep from looking at them.

“...Maybe if'n they see you buckin' trees, they'll git used t'it. That's more or less how they got used t'me, so it's worth a shot. Hmm...eeyup. Ah like that. You like that?”

Mel just keep breathing.

“Good. That's settled, then.”

“...Wha? What's settled?”

Macintosh opened his eyes: Mel was using his free hoof to push the hair away from his face. When he was done, those sweet baby blues showed themselves from half-lidded eyes. Damn, his boyfriend was a pretty pony.

“It can wait 'till later,” answered Mac, still scrubbing the other leg. “How're you feelin'?”

“I...” Mel stopped as he observed the free hoof. Mac watched him slowly turn it back and forth, sunlight gleaming from the metal each time. He knew the little horse was completely entranced. His boyfriend was a horse...Celestia, help him.

With a smile, Mac stopped scrubbing the leg to put a hoof of his own against the shining shoe. It felt much warmer than before.

“...Heh heh,” Caramel said with a groggy smile. “Good morning. I see it's bathtime.”

Mac wasn't sure whether to giggle or cringe. Just what did that medicine do to him?

“...Afternoon.”

Mel blinked. Then he shook his head quickly, rippling the bathwater.

“Afternoon? What happened?! What time is it, and why--”

Mac kissed him.

“We got back from th' office a while ago,” he explained. “You were whacked out on that painkiller, so Ah laid you down fer a nap. It's...um...'bout four o' clock now, Ah think?”

He turned his head to the old clock in the bathroom, straining to see the minute indicator.

“...Eeyup, 'bout four o'clock.”

He turned back to Mel, who seemed concerned for some reason.

“Babe, are you nearsighted?”

Mac blinked. He blinked again: that fuzziness was always there, but it was glaring to him now. Was he nearsighted? Why was he doubting himself just because Mel asked him?

“...Maybe, Ah dunno.”

Mel blinked.

“Huh. Anyway, you said I was on a painkiller?”

“Eeyup,” said Mac, stifling a shudder.

“...'Zat why I feel like my muscles were replaced with mud?”

“Eeyup.” Ah suppose they would, wouldn't they?

...Wait.

“...So, you don' remember anythin' 'bout that visit?”

He watched Mel scrunch his cute, wet face in thought. It was like watching a puppy tilt its head in confusion, except this puppy had some serious brains when he wanted them.

“I remember going in to get shod—I remember being in so much pain I wanted to chew my own legs off—and then there was a mishap, and the rest is just blank, I'm sorry.”

Blood rushed to Mac's ears. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“M-Mishap, you say?”

Mac hated how Mel looked so small then.

“I...I don't know, I really am sorry.”

When're you ever gonna be happy...? You got nothin' t'apologize for, don' beat yerself up.

“No need t'be sorry,” offered Mac with a comforting hoof. “We'll have a talk with yer doctor once things calm down.”

We'll sit down an' have a nice chat...

The bathwater was starting to get tepid. Mac found himself squirming in the tub, trying to warm up what the dry air outside couldn't reach.

“...It's weird,” Mel began with a shaky voice. “I feel really strong, but I feel really weak, too. I didn't think that was possible.”

Mac pulled his boyfriend into a soothing kiss...but the soothing was mostly for him. It seemed he would never get off this roller coaster. But if that was what being with Caramel meant, then he would just have to get used to roller coasters. If he were going to spend the rest of his life with a stallion...Mac needed to get used to several things.

“Yer jus' tired, an' no surprise. But since you mention it, we should git you gettin' used t'yer shoes, 'specially since...well, Ah wuz thinkin'--”

“--That with horseshoes as my special talent, it gives me strength that a normal horse wouldn't have?”, finished Caramel.

“Eeyup.”

“Yeah, I've been thinking that for a while now.”

“...An' fer Pete's sake, call 'em shoes.”

“Only if you can tell me who Pete is,” said Caramel with raised eyebrows.

“Pete's...Pete is...”

Mac felt his mind fold in on itself.

“...Ah have no idea. Jus' whut does that mean, anyway?”

“I wouldn't know, babe. But I do know one thing...”, Mel crooned, carefully placing a hoof on Mac's thick neck. As soon as the metal touched his hide, Mac spied the red bar shoe mark gleaming from beneath the bathwater. The one shoe holding the others together...He thought of his own, an apple core for an Apple to the Core. His cutie mark made sense. But this...

“An' whut's that, Mel?”

He couldn't keep his eyes off the new cutie mark; it split and wavered as both or either of them shifted the water. It seemed appropriate.

“I have a very special pony in the bathtub with me. And he's nice and wet.”

Mac felt the water lapping near his shoulders. It was too high, too lukewarm, and more pressing matters were at hoof.

“Ah'd love to...but Ah need you t'do me a favor first.”

Of course, Mel looked confused.

“Uh...okay. I don't really get this game, but I'll play along,” the silly pony offered with that smile from the field.

“Look down t'yer flanks.”

“Ooooh, I see now." Caramel smile became even more devious. "A little self-exposure, right here in the...”

The summer wind stood still.

“What's that?”

Mac sighed. It was all he could do.

“...It's yer cutie mark.”

“No, it's not,” Mel countered a little too quickly. “This isn't my cutie mark. It can't be.”

Suddenly, Mac felt his stadium grin taking over his face, even as he registered Mel's distress.

“Cain't it be?”

Why did Ah jus' do that?

Mel looked even more bewildered than before...but then inexplicably burst into laughter.

“Oh, very cute!”, cackled the wet pony. “I guess you got some trick from Pinkie Pie and just put it on me while I slept. You jokester, you!”

Mac took a hard look at his reflection in the water. Maybe what Applejack said about being overprotective had its merit. Mel's reflection swam next to his, slowly but certainly falling to that face of pure dread he never wanted to see...the face he tried so hard to prevent. But in the split second before looking up, he mused on how that face was a part of Caramel he just couldn't avoid.

Grinning was for the dancing devils.

“Mac...you remember how I would smile whenever I was upset? I-I just can't seem to--”

“Caramel, Ah need you t'listen t'me,” he interrupted with a hoof to Mel's lips. “Yer...yer goin' through somethin' mighty strange, we both know it. Yer jus'...special, an' that's jus' fine. Ah need you t'know we're all on yer side no matter whut changes. 'Kay?”

Mac made himself look into Mel's quivering eyes. They had just reached the lowest point of the roller coaster, and it was time to start climbing back to the top. Mel nodded without a word.

“Good. Doctor Card or whutsit should have answers fer us eventually. 'Til then...jus'--”

“Be strong,” Caramel finished. “Yeah...I can do it.”

Mac rewarded the tired pony with a nuzzle on the muzzle. They both gave tired smiles as they gazed upon Mel's partially submerged hoof, the blue shoe glinting in the golden light.

“A-After all...”, continued Mel without prompt, “I have some new shoes to play with!”

---

“HEAR YE, GOYIM OF PONYVILLE! HEAR YE FOR THY SALVATION IN THIS TROUBLED TIME! THE GREAT FLOOD SHALL RETURN; REPENT OR YE SHALL BE SWEPT AWAY!”

“Goyeem? What's a goyeem?”

Ponies were gathered around the seven bearded travelers in the town square. Nopony knew where they came from; they just set up a little blockade that didn't actually blockade anything. When one of them tried to block a pony from getting by, the offended pony would just move out or range and go around the tiny group. But as the crowd grew, the presumed leader of the seven shouted even louder.

“KNOW THY SALVATION IS NIGH BUT FOR A SIMPLE ADMISSION!”, bellowed the grey, middle-aged stallion. “SURRENDER THINE NOTIONS OF PARADISE, AND THE WATERS WILL RECEDE! HEAR US NOW! HEAR US NOW!”

“'Notions of paradise'? The hells does he mean?”

“This is some new cult, isn't it? The tourists are bad enough!”

“GO HOME, YOU STINKY PONIES!...OR TAKE A SHOWER, ONE OR THE OTHER!”

One of the seven stopped to smell his cloak and pouted.

It was at that time Caramel, Big Macintosh, and Applebloom wandered into the square to see what the to-do was. It was slightly jarring to see the teeming mob of color against the seven drab heralds. The only colors in the center of it all were grey, black, brown, and a hint of green from shredded grass. The crowd was gossiping throughout the leader's rant.

Caramel decided to investigate.

“Hey, Junebug?” He gestured to her. “What's going on here?”

“No clue,” she answered with an eye roll. “They showed up here about an hour ago, pulling different ponies aside. Now they're trying to rile us all up. Oh, I like your hair!”

“Thanks, it's just a whim I had,” said Caramel as he vainly tossed his head. He decided to keep the wet look, since Macintosh kept playing with it the other day. Even if it got old, it was a nice change to go against the other changes.

“Oh...a whim, huh?”, teased the flower mare. “Yeah. I had a whim like that when Ace said he liked brunettes. I know all about that kind of whim,” she finished with an obvious wink.

Mel blushed as he looked to Mac: the dirty blonde seemed intent to ignore Junebug.

“Hey, Big Mac,” Junebug said with her usual smile. “Crazy day, huh?”

“E-Eeyup.”

What's with that stutter? Why would--

“GATHER 'ROUND, GOYIM OF PONYVILLE! HEAR THE DILUVIANS' STORY OF THE GREAT FLOOD, AND TREMBLE AS IT BEGINS ANEW AT THINE HOOVES!”

“Whut's this 'bout some great flood?”, asked Applebloom.

Junebug shrugged.

“Maybe they mean the Paradise Falls story?”

“GOOD QUESTION, YOUNG MARE!”, exclaimed the leader of the Diluvians. “BUT...But I believe thou shall find this version much more interesting...”

The crowd steadily quieted to nothing but dull whispers.

“Back before the Alicorns, before the Draconequuii, when Ponies were just learning to speak--”

“--and the Law of the Forest was the Law of the Land,” finished the crowd.

“THIS HAD BETTER NOT BE THE SAME STORY!”, shouted Applebloom. “OW!”

Big Macintosh had thumped her on the head. Caramel couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

“...Anyway,” continued the leader, “back in those days, there was no Paradise. There were only the elements themselves, and the world was at war with itself.”

The crowd began to murmur. Caramel believed it sounded mostly dubious.

“No mission to find the Sun ever happened; the great races of the world never converged on a mountain made of sky and marble; and the six Hells were never extinguished by the Waters of All Directions. Oh, but there was a Flood. And that Flood came from one of the Hells itself...the Hell of Peace.”

“...WHAT?!”, cried the crowd.

“That makes no sense! The Hell of Peace?! You just renamed one of them to make your story work! And you didn't even do it right!”

“YOU BIG FAKER!”, yelled Applebloom. “Stop doin' that, Big Brother!”

“LISTEN TO ME! IT MAKES SENSE IF YOU—IF THOU LISTEN!”

The crowd became still again.

“The Hell of Peace,” began the leader, “is the dungeon of all well-meaning foolishness. Never you mind the Hell of Chaos: that is just what such foolishness would have you believe. No, Chaos is born from all six hells together, and each one has a contribution...with the Hell of Peace giving its ignorant mistakes, its miscommunications, its white lies all MAGNIFIED upon each other!”

The crowd barely stirred. Caramel had to remind himself to breathe.

“And THAT...is from where the Waters of All Directions rose. The ancient Ponies were at the mercy of the splitting earth, the roaring sky, just as we all were in the middle of Spring THIS YEAR!”

Gasps and panicked murmurs spread quickly throughout the crowd, which was three times the size of when Caramel, Big Macintosh, and Applebloom got there. Caramel flashed to Sweet Apple Acres broken and writhing beneath his hooves, stricken with dread at the possibility of it being his own work. At least it turned out to be out of anypony's control, let alone his...

“Oh yes, the time is near...but PAY ATTENTION! This is important. The ancient ponies pleaded to the sea for reprieve from their hungry fields and murderous storms. And the sea answered. The tides ROSE UP--”

“Oh my...”

“climbed to be above the TALLEST MOUNTAINS--”

“Oh pony, this is going to be awesome.”

“--and SWALLOWED everything they could.”

The crowd became still again...but only for a few seconds. That was when they began to disperse, gossiping about whatever. The other six squirmed uncomfortably.

Caramel sneezed.

“D-Don't you – I mean THOU SHALL NOT LEAVE! J-Just imagine it. The seas DROWNED the earth and everything on it. It was a MIRACLE the races managed to survive! Why do you think the stories of Paradise are so sketchy?! Why – WHY WON'T YOU STUPID GOYIM LISTEN TO ME?!”

The crowd stopped.

“STUPID?!”

“The nerve of that gauche cultist!”

“There's that word again. Goyeem...?”

“WE'RE NOT GONNA TAKE THAT, RUBE!”

Caramel looked to Junebug and the others: they were slowly backing away from the crowd. He was tempted to do the same...

“OH, YOU'RE A FINE ONE TO CALL ME RUBE, YOU PUTZ!”

“YOU WANNA FIGHT, TOUGH GUY?!”

“I'LL TAKE YOU...oh wait, please don't, I'm sorry I'm sorry...!”

The shod pony saw the scene unfold: it looked far too familiar. He had to do something, but the context was so different now. The only way he could think to stop it was more or less the same way he stopped it before. He was fazed at how much had changed over summer...

“Mac? I'm going in. I'm going to show them.” He purposefully didn't look at Mac as he walked toward the center.

“Nnope.” Mel felt a large hoof push him to the ground. Figured.

“Well, what's your plan, then? They're gonna beat him to a pulp!”

He heard nothing from his stallion or the others. The policeponies arrived, but they were clearly having trouble calming the rowdy crowd. Caramel wanted to keep it from getting ugly on the part of any of them. He just had to get their attention without risking too much...

“Hmm...” One method presented itself to him. It was worth a shot, at least.

“You got a plan, Mel?”, asked Applebloom in a worried voice.

Mel shrugged off the hoof from his back and stood up. He heard Mac snort behind him.

“I do, Bloom; you should go on home now.”

Somewhat surprisingly, Applebloom obeyed and scurried off toward the farm. Mel took this as a good omen. He looked to his very best friend.

“I'm gonna need your help, babe. Let's get to that gap right there, just follow my lead. Junebug?”

“Y-Yeah?...HEY, YOUR CUTIE MARK--”

“Yeah, yeah, calm down. Just...make it clear to everypony what we're doing once we start doing it. You ready, Mac?”

“Nnope...”

“Good, let's go.”

Mel grinned that stadium grin. He was starting to see why Mac liked it so much.

“W-Well...,” said the cult leader, “I think this was a very enlightening discussion. It's c-clear that different lessons are taught here, and you goy—ponies made very good points. So we'll just pack it in here and head back to the Borean Peninsula.”

The crowd murmured in agreement.

“Okay, then...let's just make sure not to step on them.”

Caramel moaned in agreement as his tongue hugged Big Macintosh's in the middle of the town square. He knew it was safe to stop but...well, he didn't.

“...Is it okay to separate them?”, asked somepony to the policeponies.

“Y-Yes, but...we're kind of scared to, even the unicorns,” admitted the chief, glancing to the shuffling magic users.

“You're supposed to be keeping us from being scared!”

“I-I suppose it's not that we're scared,” defended the unicorn squad leader. “It's just...oh, come on, they're not harming anything and it's just rude!”

“Plus we're not used to dealing with...horses," concluded the chief. “And I don't want any more freaking out about it, you hear?”

Caramel had tried to keep his hooves still and close to his boyfriend as they laid side by side on the cobblestone, but the glint from his horseshoes made it obvious. He inferred the hoofsteps he heard earlier were the crowd's backing away from him. He'd just have to win them over later; he was a little busy at the moment.

“I t-think everypony's getting used to it,” offered Junebug to the crowd. “Caramel's a good pony, after all. It's more...well...”

“It's-It's just they're right in the middle of everything!”, finished some mare.

“...That was the point,” observed Junebug.

“...And here we are at the infamous town square!”, continued the tour guide as she walked up with her group. “The riot and public declaration of young Caramel's intents with local farm pony Big Macintosh took place here, with everypony gathered...very similarly to this—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!”, shouted the startled crowd.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEET!

The crowd quieted again at the police chief's whistle. He glared at the tour group, whose leader calmed herself with a deep blush.

“Everypony just stay calm!”, he announced. “We'll get this sorted out...somehow.”

“Say, I don't remember Caramel having that cutie mark...”

Mel pulled away to speak. Mac seemed put out by it, but then just started nuzzling him.

“It's a long story,” he explained. “Or at least I assume it is; I need to hear from my...guy, first.”

“Your...guy?”, questioned the mayor.

“Yeeeeah. My guy. Everypony has a guy.”

“...Ooooooh,” said the crowd.

Mel swallowed. He was grateful for Mac nuzzling and pecking him, because he needed the encouragement for what he had to say next.

“...And as for the horseshoes...I n-need y'all to just trust me on that one. I got them – oh yeah, right there – I got them for a good reason, and I'll be careful with them.”

Ponies in the crowd looked to each other dubiously.

“...It has to do with my weird condition,” offered Caramel. “The shoes fix it. I mean, it just makes sense: my talent is shoes, so getting shod fixed the problem!”

After a while, the crowd began to murmur in acceptance. Mel nuzzled Mac in return, relishing the mid-morning sun coating him in gentle warmth.

“See, it wasn't so bad after all!”

“S-Shut up an' kiss me,” grunted Mac as he pulled Mel back in the hugging match.

The crowd groaned.

“Not again!”

“This is just—you know what? I'm leaving. This is ridiculous.”

“I'm with you.”

The crowd finally dispersed. But even if it didn't, Mel was content to stay locked with Mac on the sunbathed stone...

---

“You know whut they're sayin', right?”, said Big Macintosh the next day.

“DAHLING, did you hear the latest?”, mocked Caramel. “Ponyville has a little HORSE running around!”

Mac smiled wanly. He wasn't sure what else to do.

“It's no big deal, really. I mean, of course it's a big deal, but it's not that important to me.”

“Mel...” You can talk t'me 'bout this, really. Ah'm not stupid.

“Mac, you're more scared of this than I am. As far as I see it, I'm just a pony who went in for a little...excruciating surgery-ritual-whatsit and came out better and stronger than before.”

“...”

You were shivering in yer sleep. Ah thought Ah wuz makin' you cold at first.

“So what if the Equestrian Historian Society is pestering me? I'll just answer their questions and move on with my life! It's like...it's like giving a speech in bits and pieces!”

“...”

Ah'd laugh if'n it weren't so sad.

“...Are we gonna do this?”

Macintosh blinked, squinting at the square hay bale lying next to his mare. For once, he was glad he couldn't see in front of him clearly.

“...Eeyup. Jus' push that there bale ever so slightly.”

“You squinted again. I'm getting you glasses.”

“Git on now, Mel.”

“They'll be the best lenses in Equestria, Caramel Guaranteed!”

“Jus' push th' bale, please.”

Mac walked up to Mel, the bale getting clearer and clearer with each step. He saw the shod hoof press against the hay, budging it a few inches.

“Not bad,” graded Mac. “Now a little less.”

Mel complied, budging the bale a couple of inches.

“Even less.”

Mel budged it less than an inch. Then the little horse upped the ante by budging it even less...and even less...until it barely moved at all.

“Hah!”, boasted Caramel with a smile. “And you were worried I would hurt somepony, pfft!”

“Good,” commended Big Macintosh, remembering the welts on his chest. “Now if'n you could--”

Mel cut him off by picking up the hay bale with both hooves.

“...'Kay. Ah guess you could practice handlin' it like--”

Mel started bouncing the large bale high in the air, tossing it from hoof to hoof. The energetic pony juggled it faster and faster, higher and higher, switching between hind and front legs to keep it aloft.

“T-this is unbelievable!”, shouted Caramel. “I couldn't even touch it before; now it's doing whatever I want! I-I-I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! HAHAHAHAHA!”

Mac bristled at the wind blowing from the rocketing bale. He was making himself dizzy keeping it in his sight, the sun glaring mercilessly in his eyes.

“Um...! J-Jus' stop right there, babe. Don' git – DON' GIT CARRIED AWAY!”

Despite the warning, Mel ended up bucking the bale toward him, eyes as wide as could be. Mac did the first thing that came to mind: he turned around as quickly as he could to buck it into the air.

Bad idea.

Mac's body was seized with panic as he turned around. The tightly packed hay was flying in a giant arc, passing high over the apple trees just weeks away from bearing fruit. Mel had disappeared.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“JUNEBUG?! GIT OUTTA THERE!”

Mac sprinted over to the eventual landing site, desperate to spot the orange and beige mane so close to getting crushed. Dodging trees left and right, he finally saw a blur of the flower mare, rooted to the spot. He squinted: she was trembling.

“RUN, YOU SILLY MARE!”

“Big Mac...I...”

The bale was plummeting to right where she stood. She fell to her knees and covered her head.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Mac threw himself toward her at full speed.

“NNOPE! AH GOTCHA--”

Thud.

The hay bale landed...on top of two beige hooves. Macintosh fumbled onto the ground, narrowly missing Junebug and rolling uncontrollably, until he finally unfolded onto his stomach for an emergency break. Each blade of grass worked together to burn his barrel; but he did stop.

“I-I'm so sorry, June! Things just got really crazy! Are you okay?”

Big Macintosh unsteadily sat up and jostled his buzzing head. He took deep breaths. His stomach was making him wince with each intake.

“U-Um, I'm fine. J-Just a little rattled...mmngh.”

Deciding to ignore it, Mac stood up on all fours and started walking over to the scene of the crime. His head was still buzzing.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, badum!

“You okay, Mac?”

Nnope...but Ah will be once Ah'm done with you.

“...Mac?”

“YOU IDIOT! WHUT IN TARNATION POSSESSED YOU T'DO THAT?!”

The orchard was completely silent. Junebug was still quivering. Mel slowly set the bale down and stood on all fours, his ears drooping.

“W-What?”

Mac felt like his chest was going to burst from his throbbing heart. It took all his effort not to whack the horse upside the head.

“THAT...wuz th' most reckless stunt Ah've ever seen you pull. You almost flattened th' poor mare!”

His eyes were bulging as Mel's face twisted in that rage he knew too well. Sure enough, they were head-to-head again, digging into the ground for leverage.

“EXCUSE ME?! I wasn't the one who bucked it across the orchard, now was I?!”

“Ah wouldn't've HAD to if'n you did whut Ah TOLD you t'do!” He pushed the miscreant back an inch.

“Oh, please!”, countered Caramel, surprisingly pushing him the other way. “You could have EASILY blocked it. And yes, I messed up, but don't you dare pin this on me!”

Sweet blue skies, yer cute when yer angry...nono, gotta focus.

“Yer new shoes ain't an excuse t'act like that. Ah didn't have enough time t'block the damn hay!”

“Well, you could have broken it! Did that just slip your mind? Or were you just a little too jealous?!”

“Jealous?! Whut th' hells do you mean by that?!”

“Um...guys?”

“QUIET!”, shouted Caramel. Junebug shrank away from both of them.

“DON' YOU YELL AT HER, YOU BULLY! This is on yer head, an' DON' DENY IT!”

Mac's brain was on fire, seething with rage...but he felt the barest trickle of something warm. He forced himself to ignore it, pushing forward.

“Oh, I'M the bully now?! Well, isn't THAT ironic!” Mel pushed back again.

“Them's fightin' words, hon.” Push.

“Bring it, sweetheart! I'm not afraid of you!” Push back.

Gods o' Paradise, this is makin' me hot. But whut he did is so...!

“...You think jus' cuz' you mutilated yerself, you can take ME out t'pasture?!” Big push.

“I'll take all your first cousins out if I have to!” Big push back.

“You cain't even bowl me over by mahself, squirt!” Mac gritted his teeth as he made another push. He hated to admit it was getting harder and harder...

“Oh, NAME CALLING now? I guess we're at the point of no return!” Mel held his ground.

“Ah guess we are!” Mac tried to bowl him over, but was met full force.

“FINE!” Mel shoved him, bruising him again.

“FINE, THEN!” Mac abandoned all control and tackled him to the ground. As soon as they hit the dirt, he shoved his tongue roughly down Mel's throat. His heart was split between righteous anger and the strangest fever clouding his vision. But he was met lick for lick, both trying to overwhelm the other, even if it meant one of them would choke.

Junebug cleared her throat.

The orchard was suddenly still again. The afternoon sun bore the early August heat on them, same as before.

“...Did we just start fighting each other over an accident?”

“...Eeyup.”

"And just as suddenly making out, angrily?"

"Looks like it."

“That's kind of silly.”

“Eeyup.”

“...My head hurts.”

“Eeyup...”

“Sorry 'bout that.”

Mac pecked Mel on the forehead.

“Same.”

“Boys...”

Macintosh hurriedly got off of his colt. He was sick of being angry...He needed a break, something to clear his head. At least Junebug seemed to be taking it all in stride.

“So...Junebug,” started Caramel. “What brings you to the farm?”

“W-Well,” she stuttered, “I was thinking you guys might like a snack, since you're hard at work with the whole...shoe thing. But maybe you guys need both baskets, if you're this exciteable,” she finished with a chuckle.

Mac blinked. He didn't even notice the baskets of daisies she was carrying on her back. Was he that distracted? Or maybe he was nearsighted after all...?

“That's mighty kind o' you,” offered Big Macintosh.

“What he said,” said Mel. “But no thanks. I don't need a pick-me-up. After all...”

The ridiculous pony walked over to the weapon and casually tossed it on his right hoof.

“I'm on top of the world! It's...it's the weirdest thing, too; it's like the hay is a horseshoe.”

The other two just stared at him.

“Exactly!", he continued without prompt. "It doesn't really make sense, but at the same time, it does! This is just an oddly-shaped horseshoe to me. My legs are horseshoes. It's like...”

Mel dropped the bale on his head, balancing it perfectly.

“I AM the horseshoe,” he intoned with false drama. “We are one...”

Mac's head was buzzing for an entirely different reason now. He massaged his aching temple.

“...Mel, you haven't been takin' painkillers while Ah wuzn't lookin', have you?”

“HAHAHA! Of course not! That would just dull the experience! I'm gonna embrace this for all its worth. So, y'all know what I'm going to do?”

Mac looked to Junebug. She looked scared, too.

“...What's that, Caramel?”, asked Junebug.

“...I'm gonna buy a house!”

With that, Mac watched the strange beige pony flip the bale off his head and gallop toward town. He felt itchy.

“...Well, shoot. Ah got all excited fer nothin'.”

“Do what?”

“N-Never you mind.”

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Breathing in through his nose, he felt his pulse slow to normal. He felt very, very drained. Caramel was capable of handling himself, so Macintosh decided to let him wander into town or whatever it was he wanted to do. His chest hurt.

“Mnngh,” he groaned, rubbing the re-bruised flesh.

After a few seconds, he saw a tall daisy bobbing in front of his muzzle.

“Daisies always make me feel better,” she offered with a giggle.

Big Macintosh blinked at her...then he smiled.

Meanwhile, Twilight was analyzing the meticulous notes she made from behind a Granny Smith tree.

---

A week had passed since the wayward bale incident, and Caramel had become a spectacle. The pall cast over him with the shoeing was the first challenge he had to face, which he did by using Big Macintosh as a volunteer for a demonstration on the steps of the town hall. Most everypony watched as he nudged and pushed and shoved and scratched and rubbed the big lug...and not a single bit of flesh was raised. The days of practicing basic touching with the shoes (plus something else...) had finally paid off, and the town was quite pleased, especially Twilight Sparkle.

Then there was the matter of the strange cutie mark. Doctor Cardio had corresponded with him, explaining how he had a unique defect which was very, very basically described as an 'incomplete cutie mark'. As Caramel understood it, the lack of a fully defined talent forced the passive magic within him – as facilitated by pressure – to seek out the one clue it had and whatever else might be appropriate. Failing to find the second part of the talent, the loose magic exterminated itself, disintegrating whatever it touched. But once the second part was forced upon him, the talent was complete, and his internal magic flowed normally. The only curious part was how shoeing him did the trick instead of just touching a bar shoe, but then again he had never even seen one before that day in the office. The doctor suspected the shoeing was still necessary, but that went into different theories which both didn't interst him and revived memories of being force-fed speculation as a foal. He was just happy to be happy.

All Caramel had to do was show the study Doctor Cardio published to the town at that gathering. Ponies seemed intensely aware of cutie marks for the next few days, some openly questioning if their talents were quite what they thought. The Cutie Mark Crusaders beamed the whole while; they were in their element for once.

Finally, the memory of the stadium falling down had to be put behind everypony...but he actually made sure to take care of that first. The very first thing he did there was lay his shod hoof against the town hall's porous wood. It didn't even buckle. The crowd was completely still as Big Macintosh walked up to where the podium would have been.

And that was that. Caramel had the attention of everypony and anypony from Ponyville and even of visitors from across Equestria, most of it being positive. The Equestrian Historian Society wasn't nearly as hair-raising as he thought it would be: they actually saw him as a living testament to part of the true, albeit unfortunate, foundation of pony society. Meanwhile, many ponies who were squeamish about his condition came forward to offer their sympathy (he decided it was better late than never). Fancy Pants also visited him again, nothing short of thrilled at how his old employee conquered his circumstances. They talked about the changes to Ponyville and Princess Celestia and hairstyles and Prince Blueblood and what it meant to be noticed. The cultists seemed to keep their distance, which was just as well.

The demand to see him became so strong that when the mayor suggested he entertain them, his face lit up like a lantern. Proving himself to all those ponies was simply irresistible to him, so the area where the stadium once stood was restored to simple prairie with a couple of wooden bleachers like before. The Iron Pony Competition was reborn, and would take place in a week from this day: the day he bought his house.

---

Applejack didn't get why she had to be blindfolded. She had seen the house before, after all. Sure, it had been turned into a bed-and-breakfast, then a businessponies' rendezvous, then a foreigners' shelter, then...a normal house again, she surmised. But apart from the odd sign fixed to the sides, it hadn't changed in looks at all over the months. It was strange, when she thought about it: it was situated just west of the town perimeter, so it was excellent for setting apart from other buildings.

“Okayokayokay,” blathered Caramel. “You're gonna love this, you're gonna LOVE this! J-Just stand right there, good good. Okay...take it off!”

Bracing herself for absolutely nothing, she took off the blindfold and opened her eyes.

...Whut?

“...Wow. That's sure different.”

She was looking at a two-story house given a complete facelift. The front and sides were freshly painted sky blue, and she could see the hint of dark red shingles for the roof. The brickwork for the porch and chimney was replaced, mixing the palette with purples and a hint of brown. New windows were installed, with charcoal grey windowsills. The woodwork was refinished and looking sturdy. And Caramel was bouncing nonstop on the porch, but his smile was surprisingly normal as opposed to the inane grin he had been showing for days on end.

“Isn't it awesome?!,” said Caramel, the grin returned. “The best part is that it's mine! All mine! Hehehehehe!”

“It looks brand new, Mel. Ah'm darn pleased fer you.”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack stifled a giggle. She just had to turn her head and look at her brother's glasses again. They looked very, very strange on him, especially with the end of his hair hanging over the bridge. The yoke around his neck and the single grass stem added to the surreality.

“How're yer earpieces, big brother?”

Big Macintosh said nothing.

“They're great!”, answered Caramel, having finally stopped hopping. “I found that style when they were giving him the right prescription, and I just knew they were perfect. Doesn't he look amazing?!”

“Uhh...yeah!”, humored Applejack. “He's a sight to behold!”

Macintosh turned his head to her and mouthed: “I look ridiculous."

She mouthed back: “Just wait it out."

“I'm gonna go get the deed; wait right here!” And so Mel scurried into the house.

The cowpony took a deep breath to get the crazy out of her head. As overexcited as Caramel was, it was nice to see something happy happen to him. All that doom and gloom hanging over his head disappeared like it was never there. And as exasperated as Big Mac was right then, she was willing to bet he was relieved. Everything was looking good for him, too...which make it worse for her to keep her secret. She had to find a way to tell him today.

...But he did seem troubled. She decided to help him lighten up.

“Those lenses really aren't that bad, Big Mac,” she consoled. “Other ponies jus' gotta git used t'em, you know?”

He rolled his eyes before saying: “Ah look like one o' 'em accountants. Ah'm not an accountant.”

“Well, that's jus' a flat out lie,” she countered. “You've been countin' our revenue fer years now.”

“Not with glasses.”

Applejack mused on her brother: he seemed snarkier than usual. Maybe it was his colt's influence...?

“An' Ah still say we should jus' git off th' grid an' be self-sufficient. You know...like real farmers.”

Not this again...

“You keep bringin' this up, an' you know whut mah answer is! Th' electromagical grid is whut gits us through th' winter! Not t'mention that's big talk fer somepony who runs up our heatin' bill bathin' his boyfriend.”

It really was remarkable how much Big Mac could blush through that red hide fur. He adjusted his glasses.

“Anyway,” redirected Applejack, “Ah'm glad yer somepony got somethin' o' his own, an' by himself, too. Ah don' think Ah've seen him so pleased an' not on meds!”

“...Eeyup.”

He still looked troubled...what was happening?

“Somethin' wrong? Yer actin' out o' sorts today.”

Big Mac gestured to the renovated house.

“You know whut house this is?”

“Huh? Sure Ah do. It's one o' th' nicer houses in Ponyville, been 'round fer a while.”

“...It's his daddy's house. He bought th' house back.”

“CORRECTION!”, bellowed Caramel from the porch. “This was my parents' old house. But they're gone, and I had money, so it's mine now. Here.”

The loud pony picked the rolled document off the patio, holding it against one of the external supports. His name was signed at the bottom. As soon as her eyes met his, he rolled the deed back up and tossed it past the open door.

“It's mine in deed and in truth. Think what you will, babe, this is my house and nothing more.”

Applejack cringed. She detected lurking hostility in his voice but wasn't sure what to make of it.

“So...this musta happened real fast fer me not t'notice it! Didja do all th' renovation yerself?”

Caramel seemed puzzled before answering: “Oh, no, I didn't do all this. Applebloom fixed up the outside. I can't paint worth a bit, haha! But I suppose I could learn...”

Ah. Come t'think o' it, where is that filly? Prolly too embarrassed t'show herself, silly thing.

“Anyway, enough sunbathing! Come on in!”

Adjusting her hat, she followed her brother up the patio and through the doorway. Once inside, she was pleasantly surprised at the pristine interior. Green paint decorated the walls and ceiling, being a little darker for the latter; the living room, also the first room, was spacious and spotless; the kitchen was spacious and well-equipped for cooking; mahogany stairs led up to the second floor; the temperature was balanced no matter where she stood; and the furniture suited the rooms in which they were placed. She saw no pictures, though.

“Now I did most of this,” declared Mel smugly. “Re-wiring, furnishing, polishing, that was all me. Bloom offered to do it, but I took it as a chance to learn something new. And let me tell you: I'm glad I did! Lemme show you the upstairs.”

Just before she complied, she spied her brother bowing his head.

...Hey, wait a minute!

“Are you upset he decided t'move out?”, she asked calmly. Now that she thought about it, it seemed very sudden.

“...Ah dunno,” he whispered. “It sorta makes sense, but...Ah cain't shake th' feelin' he's doin' it fer th' wrong reasons.”

“Hey, come on!”, shouted Mel. “You'll like these bedrooms: they get a great view!”

Mac shrugged, slowly cantering his way up the stairs. AJ followed with a lightly fluttering chest...she missed her chance again.

The upstairs hallway was reminiscent of their own on the farm: an L-shaped accommodation for two minor bedrooms, a master bedroom, and a bathroom. Two windows on the left side overlooked the western ridge of the valley, prairie sprawling underneath. Like downstairs, the wood was polished and gave off a pine scent.

“So here's the guest rooms, basically,” Caramel demonstrated with opening the doors to the minor bedrooms. “I thought I'd have one for casual visits and one in case I have to host somepony important; you never know.”

The first room described had a warm yellow color on the walls, with books and games arranged in a cabinet as well as a nightstand. The second room was more striking in black streaked with light grey, containing a simple writing desk and a chair. Both had a twin sized bed.

“And the master bedroom...”, teased Caramel as he opened the door. “I have plans for this room, buddy of mine.”

Applejack looked to Big Mac: he was making the weirdest face. It was like he was trying to frown and smile at the same time.

“If you think you'll miss our little safe spots, just wait until you try it here: the room's just the right temperature for it. Plenty of furniture options, too!”

“Um, Mel...?”, interrupted Applejack. She felt a profound blush herself now.

“...Plenty of options to sit and rest. Yes. And it's great for falling asleep at night. S-Speaking of which, I'm going to be staying here for at least a week.”

“Do whut?”, said Big Mac.

“Well, you can join me if you like...”, said Caramel, “but I'll definitely sleep here for a while. I didn't plan on this being just an empty house. At the very least, it'll be good for entertaining guests. And who knows? Maybe you could...um...”

Big Mac coughed, and Applejack felt her chest flutter again. This was really starting to bother her.

“Anyway, the bathroom's over there, the clock's behind you, and now you've seen everything upstairs,” Mel finished with a shaky grin.

Tick. Tock.

“So...whaddya think?!”

She heard Big Mac's glasses click as he adjusted them. He was blinking frequently, fumbling with the earpieces until it slipped from his hoof. Mel caught it effortlessly.

“Careful with those, babe! Those weren't cheap.”

Mac slowly slipped them back on as he mumbled: “Nnope.”

“...It's a purdy set-up, Mel,” graded the other Apple. “Ah admit Ah don' git why 'zactly you wanted t'buy a house, but you picked handsomely.”

“Eeyup!”, said Caramel. “Glad you like it. Oh, oh! Be right back!” He dashed into the master bedroom and came back with a small tub on his head. It had a shoe painted on it.

“Fancy Pants gave it to me: clear horseshoe polish! Apparently, it's used for the throwing game in Canterlot, but he had a spare one since he quit playing. It's just perfect. These babies are gonna shine!”, he illustrated with a hoof stuck out into the streaming sunlight.

Applejack coughed.

“They sure will,” she offered helplessly.

She forced herself to watch as the grin on Mel's face slowly fell into a wan smile, and then a soft frown. She hated how awkward she was being...but consarnit, it was an awkward situation.

“Is something wrong? Maybe you don't like the colors I picked?” He moved to set the tub back down in the master bedroom.

“N-No, it's nothing like that,” rebutted Applejack. “It's that...well, why'd you buy a house in th' first place?”

“...Oh,” said Caramel, his smile returning as he returned. “I implied it from before, but this house is important to me because it's where I grew up. I kinda wanted to reclaim it. Not to mention it's just nice to have a place of my own.”

Well, that seems reasonable...Ah guess. Reclaimin' th' past is somethin' Ah wish Ah could do lately.

“Ah gotcha,” she reassured with her own smile. “You've really made somethin' o' yerself, Mel. Congratulations.”

“...Eeyup!”, said Big Mac. He sounded a little forced.

Mel grinned, but it was a good grin this time, from nothing but happiness.

“You two...”, he began as he hugged them both, “are just so awesome. I'm not cutting ties or anything, but I just have to say thank you so much. Especially you, babe. You put up with me beautifully.”

Slowly but surely, her brother's face grew into that smile she knew so well. He was going to be fine, she just knew it.

“It wuz no problem, Mel. Ah love you.”

“I love you, too.” They pecked each other.

Flutter.

“W-Well, Ah should git goin', you two,” declared Applejack. “Happy house, Mel!”

“Thanks again, AJ! See you at the orchard tomorrow!”

“Roger that!”

She walked down the stairs, out the front door, and out in front of the house. She wasn't keen on any developments actually occurring in front of her. It hit too close to home.

This is gettin' ridiculous. Ah hafta tell him.

As if on cue, her brother came out of the house by himself. He caught up to her and matched her pace back home. It had to be now.

“Big brother?”

“Hmm?”

“You know how Ah pester you t'tell me if'n yer upset? Well...Ah'm gonna take mah own pesterin' an' ask you somethin'.”

The spectacled pony squinted at her. It couldn't have been from nearsightedness.

“'Kay. Shoot.”

“...'Zit normal t'not be able t'fall in love?”

---

Late that night, the faucet in Caramel's house dripped slightly. Drip, drip, drip. The water falling down was clean and pure, unbound and mindless...until then. The droplets started pooling at the faucet head, growing and shaping themselves into a flawed head. The head fell halfway to the sink as the water grew a thin neck, thinner arms, and a torso. The torso fed water to the rest of the body steadily, all of it growing and growing...It grew slits for eyes, and a mouth to speak.

“We will make everything...”

The new form failed, splashing into the sink.

Caramel woke up with a start. He thought he heard a water balloon bursting or something similar. Blinking, he took in the sight around him: nothing had changed. He was still in his old room, restored more or less to its former state.

He felt pathetic doing it, but it was something he had to face. He stopped sleeping in there the last night that he could stay in the house. Hoof steps echoed in his head, the memory of that night fully revived and bleeding pain. He had followed his father outside of the house, demanding an explanation. All he got for a response was a whisper in his left ear:

“You're grown now. You'll make do.”

He was helplessly rooted as the pony walked away. The bed-and-breakfast ponies would set up tomorrow...and his father had left him there. He couldn't stay there...so he didn't; he slept behind the abandoned library. He made do.

Caramel groaned weakly as he laid down on the bed again. He spied the horseshoe polish on the nightstand.

Pfft. Who needed him? He had a life to live, for once. He yawned and lulled himself back to sleep.

Comments

[Peter Yellowhammer]

For better or for worse, I have now written a novel-length Caramac fic. And it's not even finished. I'm strangely okay with this.

[-Brutus]

440871 to clear it up, Applejack is falling in love with Caramel? As she said near the end of this chapter.

[Peter Yellowhammer]

441028 All I'm going to say is I wrote what I wrote for a reason. Read carefully.