In Darkness

by applejackofalltrades

Three

Sometimes, Spitfire wanted to get up and leave. She could walk on her own now – the only thing holding her down was the soreness around her injuries and her blindness. But even that wouldn’t keep her down. Her wounds were, in fact, healing, and felt like nothing more than a minor flesh wound now.

To prove that to herself, Spitfire occasionally stood from her bed and sat next to Applejack’s, if only because she’d bump into it, often supposedly annoying the other mare. Though despite her snorts and huffs, Applejack never told Spitfire to go away, not even the first time the pegasus climbed up next to Applejack as carefully as she could.

And that was what she planned to do again. Applejack hadn’t said nearly anything since that day and had actually been entirely speechless for the last few days. As tempting as it was to let her (or herself) brood and fester in the dullness of life, Spitfire wanted something else. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was but Applejack was the closest thing to it, and so with her newfound, but still very limited, freedom, Spitfire slowly dropped down from her bed. Her once-injured shoulder buckled a bit under her weight, but she managed to stay upright. It just needed to heal and regain strength.

She wouldn’t dare try using her wings any time soon.

Spitfire’s hooves clicked on the clean tile beneath them and with only a couple of steps, she closed the distance between her own bed and Applejack’s. It amazed her the first time she found out how close together they were. Applejack’s voice was so low and quiet that she always sounded further than she was. But the entire time, if they had reached out for each other, they probably could have met their hooves together.

She wouldn’t bump into Applejack’s bed anymore, not in the two weeks' worth of practice since that time she asked that awkward question. Even if Applejack would keep not talking to her, Spitfire knew that they both appreciated the close company. Even if the doctors kept berating them about it.

Right at the bed, Spitfire prodded the mattress. “You got room up there?”

Applejack didn’t reply. Whether it was because she was ignoring her or because she didn’t hear her was unclear, but still, Spitfire knew she was okay to proceed.

With a careful reach up to the edge of the mattress, Spitfire confirmed her assumption. There was enough room for her to climb up and not bother Applejack’s bandages. She had done it accidentally once and she never wanted to hear that noise come from Applejack again. It was completely uncharacteristic of the mare that seemed nothing less than strong and resilient, even judging solely by the way she acted while injured.

Satisfied enough with the amount of room, Spitfire carefully lifted herself onto the bed. Applejack snorted in what Spitfire knew was mock annoyance, which prompted a crooked smile from the pegasus. She noticed, though, how Applejack shifted the tiniest bit to the side to give Spitfire more room. Applejack couldn’t hide the subtle grunt that escaped her as she did.

It was a tight fit. Applejack was a big mare, but Spitfire, being a pegasus built for precision flying, was on the smaller side, so there was just enough room for the both of them. It was almost as if it was meant to be. Almost.

That was a stupid thought that Spitfire brushed off.

Instead, she rested her head on the backrest, leaving the pillow solely for Applejack, and rolled onto her back with a heave, making sure once more to stay squarely in her spot. Her shoulder brushed against Applejack’s, and the feeling of bandages made the pegasus pull away in fear of hurting her again.

Once she was as comfortable as she could get, Spitfire exhaled slowly, letting out the tension that built up inside her. “I was thinking about leaving again,” she broke the silence. “I’m so… so sick of this, ‘Jack. I should be out there doing something! I should be helping defend Equestria, not sitting up in a hospital room blind and… and useless.”

The only response was Applejack’s breathing. She couldn’t tell anything else from that, but she hoped that the earth pony was listening. Then again, would it matter if she wasn’t? Spitfire furrowed her brow and frowned. “I should have come out of the war a hero! Spitfire, leader of the squadron that lead Equestria to victory! If I was going down, I wanted to go down fighting, I wanted to go down with honour. But… but I just came out a failure.”

“You’re not a failure.”

Spitfire clamped her jaw shut at the sound of Applejack’s voice right next to her. It was louder than she’d ever heard it, and yet she wished she could hear it more clearly. Spitfire turned her head to the right, where Applejack lay next to her. “What?”

“I said, you ain’t a failure, Spitfire. I mean it.”

For once, Spitfire was the one to stay quiet. Applejack reached out and put her hoof on Spitfire’s. It was lucky that the side that Spitfire was able to be with Applejack on was mostly free of bandages. She could feel her actual real hoof. Applejack cleared her throat, snapping Spitfire’s attention back to the sound of her voice. “I ain’t very good with words but… I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Spitfire swallowed the lump in her throat. Her hoof felt disconnected from her body, full of static as another pony’s touch pressed down on it in a gentle manner. The static grew and filled her entire being as Applejack pressed what seemed to be her own cheek against Spitfire’s. It had been so long since she’d been nuzzled, she almost forgot how good it felt. Applejack winced a bit with the effort, so Spitfire pushed back, making sure that Applejack wouldn’t aggravate her injury by leaning to her.

As soon as the nuzzle ended, so too did the static.

“Y’know, I’d been wanting to do that for a while,” Applejack admitted with a tiny chuckle, marred only by the subtle jab of pain in her voice. “Kinda hurts to move too much, though, but you’re a, uh, you’re a great friend, Spitfire. Guess I wanted to show it the only way I know how.”

The pegasus grinned a little bit. It was hard to believe it, but she appreciated it nonetheless. “You too, Applejack.”

That for sure was true. After what had happened to her that day, Spitfire never thought she’d be able to see another pony as a friend again, both literally and figuratively. But Applejack kept subverting her expectations and sneaking her way into Spitfire’s life. Whether she meant to or not was a different question but it was happening and neither mare really seemed to mind.

Spitfire thought her newfound friend was going to go silent again, but Applejack’s long exhale filled the room again before she kept going. “Y’know those cans of apples y’all get?”

The taste of those apples that Spitfire wished she could forget filled her mouth. Her tongue inadvertently stuck out of her mouth. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

Applejack huffed, but it sounded more like a laugh. “Yeah, well… My family owns the factory that makes ‘em,” she revealed. Her voice cracked a bit as she paused on her thought. “I know you wanna know what happened to me. I was fixin’ one of the machines when it blew up on me. Y’know, hot air an’ water’s still enough to burn ya.”

So that was what happened. She could only imagine how it must have felt, and she immediately found herself pushing away the mere thought. Spitfire could tell by the way Applejack’s voice shook that it was a painful memory. That, at least, she could understand. “Damn.”

“It’s alright,” Applejack responded gruffly. “We have a clinic back in my hometown—Ponyville, maybe ya heard of it—but we don’t have any unicorns there, not since the battle at Baltimare.”

Right. Spitfire remembered that. Fleetfoot’s unit was sent to give out aerial reinforcements at Baltimare. That was when Spitfire found out that Sombra’s soldiers found a way to “acquire” anti-air unicorns. Equestria had given their own enemies the weapons they could use to defeat them.

“Only so much earth pony hooves can do, y’know?” Applejack continued. Her voice trailed away as she sighed. “They figured that it was worth seein’ if I could get any sort of help in a bigger city like Canterlot. Without me, it’s just my brother Big Mac at the factory, and since my li’l sister’s off with the other foals at Celestia knows where… well, they need their engineer back, y’know?”

Spitfire always appreciated the engineers, and she could definitely respect Applejack. Without her family’s farm, there wouldn’t be nearly as many rations as there were… Which was not saying much, but it made all the difference on the battlefield. Kept her belly full when there was nothing else. “Well, thanks for doing all that.”

One of the heart rate monitors beeped faster. Spitfire knew it wasn’t her own.

“I just… I’m a mite bit scared, if I’m being honest,” Applejack went on, speaking even quieter than before. Her voice sounded rumbly when she brought it down that quiet. It almost sounded like it hurt. “Sorry to talk so much but… I gotta say it. I don’t wanna know what I look like under these bandages,” she admitted quietly into the never-silent room. “I don’t wanna leave here. But I gotta. I gotta do my part. I just don’t even know if I can. It’s… well, it hurts to move and apparently, there’s somethin’ wrong with my forelegs. I dunno what it is, and it might be nothin’ but it might be somethin’.

“And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I can’t even hear very well anymore, bandages or not.” She sighed. “If I go back, I don’t even know if it’ll be worth going back.”

In all of the monotony, Spitfire had considered Applejack a friend, despite the not very talkative mare’s somewhat aloof demeanour. It seemed that the earth pony was someone Spitfire could relate to more than she had originally thought. The call of duty, the need to go back out and do her part.

The inability to do so, and the fear of being useless.

Spitfire turned to her and gave her a smile she hoped that the other mare could see. “Hey, I know I said I wanted to leave but… I know I’ll be here with you for as long as I can until then, at least. Being out there with my team taught me that loyalty is invaluable. And I figure I could make one of them proud by acting on it.”

She wished that it would be enough to at least make Applejack smile or feel a bit better. Spitfire never considered herself to be good with words, not when it came to emotions and feelings, but she could do her best. That’s all she could do.

Applejack let out a breath loud enough that Spitfire could hear. “I don’t wanna say that’s good, but…”

Spitfire could hear the tiny smile in Applejack’s voice. The way her lips must have curled up at the joke, and the way her intonation changed, bringing up the pitch of that smooth voice as if it was a question. Spitfire smiled and let out a short laugh. It made the ache in her side flare up a bit, but it was a good pain. Pain that meant she was there right next to Applejack. “Don’t worry, Applejack. I get it. And hey, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.” She sat up a little more in the bed. “Do you know when they’re taking off your bandages?”

“Not sure yet. They said maybe in a few weeks, though if all the magic healin’ and stuff goes right, maybe less than that.” Applejack snorted gruffly. “Then there’s more… magic stuff they intend on doin’ to see if they can fix my ‘lameness’. I don’t like all this magic stuff. Ain’t right, ain’t the way I was raised. Never been any magic on my farm, and I intend to keep it that way.”

She had a disdain for magic that Spitfire could understand, though it was definitely for very different reasons. Truth be told, Spitfire didn’t really mind the idea of magic. She thought it was handy; there were some magic-infused items she’d been given to use during the war, and she knew a lot of amazing unicorn technicians. But ever since that day… she just couldn’t stand being near it. “Yeah. I understand.”

“I just… I don’t like it, Spitfire,” Applejack went on. She sounded tired, defeated almost. In the short time that Spitfire had known her, she had never sounded quite like that. “I mean… Have I told you about my family?”

“No, not anything other than some stuff about your brother and your sister just now.”

The sheets next to her rustled, followed by a poorly suppressed grunt. “Well, that much is true. Before all of this happened, I lived on our family farm in Ponyville. Sweet Apple Acres is what it’s called. We have hundreds of acres of apple trees, all ready to get apples all ‘round Ponyville and even some of Equestria!

“Or at least, it was like that before the war.” Applejack’s voice lost all the enthusiasm it had built up almost all at once. “My granny died only a couple of months in. I… I guess that’s a good thing, right? She didn’t have to see how it all turned out. Didn’t have to see how they forced us to mutilate our home, our family… our traditions. To us Apples, tradition’s just as important as family. We lost a lot of that in only a span of a few years. Maybe it was just lucky that Granny only had to see some of it. But the rest of us? Us young’uns? We had to see it all.

“After Apple Bloom—my little sister—was sent away, we thought it’d be a good idea to put Granny’s face on the labels. Keep her alive in some way.” She paused to snort violently. “What a stupid idea that was. She wouldn’t have wanted that; she wouldn’t have wanted to be plastered on cans of shit that couldn’t be further from the very values she taught us. I think we really messed up there, me and Big Mac. Just tarnishin’ her, and our family, even more with every can of dogshit we produce. There ain’t no Apple family love in there, no substance.

“I felt ashamed every mornin’ that I put on that hairnet and do my part. It doesn’t feel like it sometimes, y’know. Feels like I’m doin’ nothin’ but disappointing everypony. My parents, and Granny. Heck, I feel like I disappoint Big Mac sometimes. He does his best, but I can tell he hates it too. But we gotta do it, and as much of a disappointment I feel I am when I do it, it’d be worse if… Well, it’s worse now that I don’t.”

The room was eerily silent, filled only with the endless sounds of machinery. Spitfire swallowed dryly. “I know it’s probably not the right thing to say, but… What you do is important. I… I’m sorry about all of that, but you should never feel like you’re not doing enough. Without you and your brother, I don’t think any of us would have been fit enough to fight or survive. You guys are really life-savers, ‘Jack, and I’m not just saying that to be nice.”

“I guess.” Applejack sniffed quietly. Was she crying? Spitfire had never heard her cry before, not even in pain, and she knew the earth pony had to deal with a lot of it on bad days. “I dunno, it just feels all wrong, y’know? I know that it’s essential, but I can’t help but wish we didn’t have to do it. Doesn’t seem fair. I reckon I’m just bein’ selfish, though. Could be worse for us.”

Spitfire frowned and readjusted her position carefully. Her wounds were almost fully healed, but her body was still sore from the injuries. She turned to face Applejack, looking at where she knew the mare was. “It’s not like it’s been easy for you, though,” she pointed out, making sure to carefully plan out her words. “I mean, you’re here, right? Even if it was a freak accident… Applejack, you still have the right to complain, and you can do that. It isn’t right, none of this is.” She reached up to gesture around with a hoof, ignoring the ache that came from her body. “We’re in a freaking war. And you know what we have to do against an enemy like the Crystal Empire?”

“What’s that?”

She bit the bullet and briefly nuzzled Applejack just like she had done before. “Stick together. That means hearing each other out and being there for each other, right ‘Jack?”

The earth pony stayed quiet for a moment before sighing in a way that sounded kind of like a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just can’t help but worry. I love my family, y’know? I miss Apple Bloom every day and I wish I knew how to send her a letter… and I worry ‘bout how Big Mac is doin’ without me. I’m sure they’ve found someone to help, but I just wish it was me. Though, I guess… I guess I’m glad it was me who got hurt and not Mac. I dunno how I’d fare without him.”

An image of Soarin flashed in Spitfire’s mind. He was her rock, her support system. In a way, it went both ways; they supported each other. The pegasus shuddered. “It’s just as tough on him.”

“Mmm.” Applejack cleared her throat. “I got off-topic. W-what I meant to say was that we were always raised to use our own hooves on the farm. No magic, unless it’s our own. It just… it ain’t the way it works. I don’t like it. Doesn’t make sense to me, and I’ve never needed it. But, y’know, havin’ somepony use it on me to fix me? You’d think it’d make me appreciate it. Makes me hate it more,” she admitted with a laugh. “I guess you really can’t just unlearn somethin’ you’ve known your whole life.”

“Yeah… I don’t like it, either.” She clenched her eyes shut if only to feel the way her eyelids pressed together. In the darkness, it was safe. “It… reminds me of what happened.”

“D’ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” Whenever Spitfire thought about what happened, it hurt. Her chest would tighten and her throat would clench up. She swore she could hear the ringing in her ears… see the flash of light before the splotchy colours and then darkness.

She could smell the smoke, the dirt, the mud, the blood. She could feel it on her hooves, the way it caked up under her uniform and dragged in her mane. The way the inside of her helmet smelled like sweat and salt and blood. It was all she could do at that moment to not gag in reflex. No matter what, the smell of death was never easy to take in.

“Hey, hey, I’m here.”

And it all faded away. The battlefield disappeared, and so too did the screaming and the orders and the bone-rattling booms. All that was left was the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears and the heightened pace of her breathing. Spitfire relaxed her jaw, clenched so tight she might have chipped a tooth had she been left longer, and looked around wildly. Her memories disappeared, and she was left in darkness.

“It’s alright, sugarcube.”

But then, Applejack’s voice was the light. She couldn’t see it as much as know it was there, and it felt warm on her body. The way her smooth voice cut through all the gore and anguish. Deep and rich, sweet like honey. No longer rough like it had been when the mare had just arrived, no. Her voice was clear and calming. Like the missing piece in the cacophony of the hospital room that made it all into an orchestra. Maybe the missing piece of Spitfire’s life.

She had not noticed she’d moved to wrap her forelegs around her until she unfurled herself. It was a position that she’d only had to take that time, right before the flashbang. She definitely hadn’t noticed Applejack pressing up more against her. Spitfire jerked herself out of it immediately and fell back on the bed. It hurt her body and most of all her head, but she stared up into the nothingness above her regardless and sighed. Her heart weighed heavy with the pain she’d stored up inside her. It was time to let it go.

“I… I’ll tell you, ‘Jack.”

Applejack didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. Spitfire knew she was paying attention, and the sound of the earth pony’s breathing was enough to distract her from the looming battle scene that threatened to crawl back into her mind. Shakily, Spitfire let it out. Applejack listened.

Comments

[Bicyclette]

But the entire time, if they had reached out for each other, they probably could have met their hooves together.

h-hoof touch?

It was a tight fit. Applejack was a big mare, but Spitfire, being a pegasus built for precision flying, was on the smaller side, so there was just enough room for the both of them. It was almost as if it was meant to be. Almost.

That was a stupid thought that Spitfire brushed off.

aww

Spitfire swallowed the lump in her throat. Her hoof felt disconnected from her body, full of static as another pony’s touch pressed down on it in a gentle manner. The static grew and filled her entire being as Applejack pressed what seemed to be her own cheek against Spitfire’s. It had been so long since she’d been nuzzled, she almost forgot how good it felt. Applejack winced a bit with the effort, so Spitfire pushed back, making sure that Applejack wouldn’t aggravate her injury by leaning to her.

awwwwww

...I don’t like all this magic stuff. Ain’t right, ain’t the way I was raised. Never been any magic on my farm, and I intend to keep it that way.”

it makes sense that Applejack wouldn't consider zap apples and earthpony magic to count as the "magic" that she so distrusts. that stuff is unicorn magic!

“After Apple Bloom—my little sister—was sent away, we thought it’d be a good idea to put Granny’s face on the labels. Keep her alive in some way.” She paused to snort violently. “What a stupid idea that was. She wouldn’t have wanted that; she wouldn’t have wanted to be plastered on cans of shit that couldn’t be further from the very values she taught us. I think we really messed up there, me and Big Mac. Just tarnishin’ her, and our family, even more with every can of dogshit we produce. There ain’t no Apple family love in there, no substance.

oof! always did think it was strange to put Granny Smith's smiling face on what is so clearly not very Apple Family. and this explains why neitehr Apple Bloom nor Granny Smith were around in that episode...

“It’s alright, sugarcube.”

But then, Applejack’s voice was the light. She couldn’t see it as much as know it was there, and it felt warm on her body. The way her smooth voice cut through all the gore and anguish. Deep and rich, sweet like honey. No longer rough like it had been when the mare had just arrived, no. Her voice was clear and calming. Like the missing piece in the cacophony of the hospital room that made it all into an orchestra. Maybe the missing piece of Spitfire’s life.

auaugh this is so beautiful. such an accurate description of what it feels like to hear that "sugarcube" directed at you :pinkiewhy: