Aiding Hearts

by BloomBoy06

Confusion Around, but Always Helping, However Hindered

By no means were the Cutie Mark Crusaders the only ponies around the hero of the game, but their size made it rather easy to make it toward the center. Sneaking under a few others, they managed to reach the main circle around Grand Slam. Rainbow volunteered to bring the three fillies to the session, and managed to squirm her way to the middle as well. She managed to find them in the crowd, but was shocked to have found Pinkie Pie first.

“Pinkie? I thought you were behind me.”

“I was.”

“But,” Rainbow struggled to form her thoughts, “now you’re here.”

“Well, why wouldn’t I be here?”

That is a good question, Rainbow pondered, but she decided not to vocalize her thoughts and let the question’s answer remain unsolved, as with every other Pinkie Pie explanation. To her and to any other pony she knew, the explanations of the crazy partier would have to wait until much later as the hero of the game was being asked all sorts of questions of his own.

The first one came from child-reporter Featherweight, a question for his school’s newspaper, “Grand Slam, how do you feel about the game as a whole? Pretty neat end if I do say so.”

The ‘hero’ chuckled briefly at the feeble-vocaled colt, but nonetheless responded with certainty and fortitude, “You know, it’s always great when we can end it great for the home team. Still a little disappointed that I couldn’t stay with Cloudsdale to end my career, but gotta help out where I could.”

Another reporter, this one from a more prestigious national news station, pounced on the opportunity posed from the last statement, “Do you think you’ll return to Cloudsdale after the remaining three years on your contract?” the question, however, had nearly been drowned out by a slew of young foals asking the bulky stallion for an autograph.

Grand Slam was able to answer the question, but only between moments where he signed his name with his mouth, “Well, I know it might not be perfect,… I mean, would I love to be a lifetime Cloudsdaler?... Of course, but you know,… that’s how contracts work, and I look to make the best out of what I’ve been given…”

The third question of the session came from nopony of importance to the news cycle. She waited for Slam to recognize her tiny, yellow hoof raised into the air, and asked the question she dreamed of since viewing the field, “Hey, Mister! Do you think you could teach me how to play baseball?” The question received laughs from the crowd, but Applebloom mildly huffed at how her inquiry didn’t seem to be well-received.

Although the charcoal pony responded to the answer, the young filly knew his response rolled off as a script would, “Kid, my advice for playing good baseball is to practice whenever you can, and then you can achieve greatness as well.”

“But I still don’t have an answer,” Applebloom protested.

Her point was cut off from punctuating her point by a yet another reporter, though this one was an experienced griffon from the Equestrian Network of Sports Programming. As someone of such a high-standing station, his tone carried the prestige as well, “Mr. Slam, do you feel you could have still hit the home run if your team was still down?”

“Well, it was going to be tied one way or another,” he contested, “I mean, I was still gonna get a hit in the game,” Grand Slam took a brief pause as the reporters and fans chuckled, nopony paying attention to Applebloom’s growing fury. The ‘hero’ continued, “Being serious, I don’t quite think I would have hit a home run, but I feel confident in my abilities in hitting. You don’t reach the top ten in batting because you’re lucky.”

There were more questions from fans, and more to add to previous points, but Applebloom made a turn around to exit the pile. Scootaloo had raised her hoof to ask something, and Sweetie Belle would have too if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of dismayed yellow out of the corner of her eyes.

Sweetie caught her close by, so her squeaky voice didn’t need to screech too loud, “Hey, Applebloom! Where you heading?”

“See if I can find Applejack,” she replied, “seems to be the only pony around here who understands modesty.”

“Aww, don’t feel that way,” she tried to console, “all of us Crusaders are modest… even if…I’m not entirely sure what that means.”

The two had overheard Scootaloo, who had apparently been chosen to ask the next question: “What exactly makes you so awesome?” she inquired cheerfully.

As if it was a question he was asked on a daily basis, Grand Slam replied with certainty, “Well, many ponies are born great...” taking a pause to let the laughter flow through.

Applebloom didn’t listen to the other end of the comment, “Ya see Sweetie Belle? That’s what the opposite of modesty is. ‘What makes you awesome?’ ‘I was born with it.’ Granted, it’s bluntly put, but that’s how it is.”

Although the tiny white filly didn’t understand the entirety of what Applebloom intended, she understood the departure, “Fine by me. I‘d think she’d be near where we sat for the game.”

“Thanks for that,” and following the comment, Appleblom scootched her way out of the pack around Grand Slam. Elsewhere around the field, she noticed that other players were being interviewed for other stations around Equestria. Despite there being fewer players than were on either team, she figured there were a few that didn’t play in the game, so there was no reason to be asked anything on the field. One player stood out to her, and he was sitting back in the dugout. He was the first pegasus player she met when coming out to the seats, and it appeared she was not the only one to be interested in him. The other pony who was, however, surprised her. Maybe Applebloom should have expected this; just before the start of the game, Applejack wanted to talk to him, but had been called back to her seat before the game.

The filly could tell her sister had already asked a few questions, and even if it was part of Applebloom’s naïve nature, she asked one of her own, “Hey Applejack, is he your new coltfriend? You've barely even met him.”

“Applebloom! Ain’t that a little abrupt of a question?”

“Well,” she defended, “are you two friends?”

“Sure, but that doesn't mean we’re together.”

“Though it would be appropriate to have introductions…uh, Applejack, is it?” the pegasus added.

“Ya didn’t introduce yourself, Applejack? For shame,” but Applebloom didn't leave any room for her sister to give a viable answer, “Mister, this is my big sister, Applejack. She helps run Sweet Apple Acres, cooked for Cadence’s wedding, and is the Element of Honesty!” Applebloom took great pride in what she conveyed.

Applejack, on the contrary, was not fond of the attention being thrust upon her, and tried to restore modesty, “Now, Applebloom, that’s not really anything to be bragging about.”

The player took a brief bow of honor, “Beg my pardon, I wasn’t aware you were one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.”

“Get back up, partner,” Applejack was quick to mention, “No need for formalities. Although, would you mind tellin’ us your name.”

“My name’s Coeur Aidant,” he spoke with pride.

Both Apple sisters gave a blank stare at him, the elder one talked first, “Wait, the announcer said ‘Helping Hearts’…”

“…and our friend, Rainbow Dash, called you Aiding Hearts.”

“So, how does…which one is correct?”

“All of them,” he stated. Noticing how the blank stares continued, he asked as a result, “Would you prefer me to explain what I mean by that?”

There was no vocal reply, but two heads nodding gave the clue.

“Very well,” and thus, he explained, “You see, my father’s name was ‘Helping Hoof’, and my name deviates from that. My real name stems from my mother, Vitesse. She was of Marisian descent, and when my parents decided to name me, they took the best of both; thus, came Coeur Aidiant. Roughly translated, it means Aiding Hearts, and I was typically known as Aiden, stemming from Aiding Hearts, while in school. When I got…’picked up’ by a new family, My name transferred from my descending name directly, which explains why ‘Helping Hearts’ is the name I went by on the lineup card, a literal translation of my birth name. Hope that explains enough for you two.”

The explination was sufficient, but Applebloom wondered about one given point, “So wait, what exactly do you mean by ‘picked up’ by a new family?”

Before she could receive an answer, a certain cream-pink mare wandered into the dugout, “Aiding Hearts, care for an interview?”

The voice was graciously familiar, “Ah, Namby Pamby, you know it’s so great to be able to talk to you again. The only pony who actually calls me by my preferred name.”

“It’s what I do. Gotta be gracious to my guests if I want an honest interview.”

“Oh,” he took a brief pause to ask of the siblings, “Do you mind waiting a minute or two while I’m interviewed?”

“Not at all,” Applebloom answered, but Applejack gave a nod in agreement, “Not like we gotta be anywhere soon.”

As the bulk of the interview got going, the other friends who had remained for the interview session on field had grown tired and sought to trot home. Out of all the ponies who weren’t Pinkie, Rainbow had held the most energy, and even then, it wasn’t by much. “Hey AJ!” the cyan pegasus shouted, “We were about to trot on back to bring Sweetie Belle home, gonna come along or what?”

“If she needs to be home soon, just go ahead,” Applejack reasoned, “Applebloom and I were gonna wait for Aiden over here.”

“Can I stay here with them? Just for a few minutes…” inquired Sweetie Belle.

Rainbow was about to bring up a certain point, but Scootaloo brought it up first, “It’s gonna take us about twenty minutes before we get back to Carousel Boutique, and if we don’t get back soon, it’ll be past the curfew Rarity has for you.”

“OhCelestiaYou’reRight!” Sweetie Belle rushed with panic, “Let’sGetGoingBeforeWe’reTooLateAndIGetPunished!”

“Let’s meet up tomorrow at noon in the clubhouse,” Scootaloo hurredly explained to Applebloom, “Decide which cutie mark to shoot for next and all that stuff. See ya later.”

“See ya, Scoots! See ya Sweetie Belle!” as Applebloom waved her hoof farewell to the departing party.

As the interview ran to a close, Namby Pamby asked one final question before parting off, “So, Aiden, with the sacrifice hit which helped the team, how do you feel your role with the Ponyville Nationals will change?”

“What role?” he asked.

The tone had been more somber than Aiding Hearts had portrayed until this point. Namby initially considered it sarcasm, “Your spot on the roster. Don’t you think you’ll have a more prominent role after today?”

“Well…if it’ll be with a team, it’s not with Ponyville.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Applejack interjected.

Aiden gladly expanded what he meant, “I got waived by the team after the game. My average has been poor throughout my career, and they knew it, but since Ponyville meant so much to me in the past, they took me in on a short-term contract. While it would have lasted a few more games beyond this, they felt any given prospect would be superior to my possible output.”

Curiosity struck Applebloom in the last statement, “Was it a wave hello or goodbye?” She likely knew the answer, but had to ask anyway.

That’s not really what it means to be waived, Aiden thought to himself, but to suffice the question, he responded, “Without getting into many details, it was like a wave goodbye. But look, Applebloom, did you still want to learn how to play baseball?”

The yellow filly’s ears perkedup in optimism, but her face held a look of shock, eyes agape, “You’re still willing to do that?”

“Assuming Miss Pamby is done with her interview, that is.”

The reporter folded her notebook and shoved it back into her bag, “That’ll be all for now. Hope to see you soon, I know the most generous player in the league will find his talent soon enough.” With a final wink of luck, Namby Pamby left on her way.

“See you soon,” As Aiden saw his friend depart, he regained his optimism in the sight of the filly beside her, “Alright Applebloom, just grab a bat and let’s walk onto the field.”

Applebloom clenched one of the bats in her teeth, but lifting it up proved to be a difficult task. Picking up the handle was a simple task, but the barrel of the bat proved to be a stronger challenge. While she was able to raise it level with her head, it only lasted about three seconds as the pressure from the bat’s weight caused her to drop it entirely, “Don’cha have a smaller bat?”

Aiden shook his head, “At a major league park, there isn’t really any equipment for foals and-”

“Hold on a second!” Shouted a party-ready pony from the side of the dugout, “I think I’ve got a bat somewhere around here.” Pinkie Pie shuffled around her mane for the required item.

Applejack deadpanned her enthusiasm, “Let me guess, you have bats stashed all over in case of bat emergencies?”

“Not really,” Pinkie mentioned, as the bat she pulled out was a small blueberry fruit bat from her mane, “I keep cutesy and wutsie bats in my mane for bat emergencies.” She waved goodbye to the bat, but now pondered her next move, “Now where do I keep my baseball bats?... Oh, that’s right. I keep sports equipment in my tail.” After minor rummaging in her tail, she pulled out a small baseball bat which suited Applebloom much better, “in case of sports emergencies.”

Nopony bothered to question the antics of Pinkie Pie, though now it was Aiding Heart’s turn to find a need to sit as a result in order to attempt to comprehend. Applebloom’s words snapped him out of the contemplative state, “So, how exactly do you play baseball?”

A small chuckle preceded the instruction, “Well, you already know how to field the ball, right?”

“Pretty much just catch it or launch it to whichever base it’s needed.”

“So it appears to me that you just need to find out how to hit.” He tried positioning Applebloom as he explained the batting stance, “Okay, so you need to clench the bat in your mouth and keep your forehooves still on the ground, got it?”

“Erh-herh,” Applebloom squeaked through her clenched teeth.

“Now, as the pitch is being launched, you jump your forehooves to you right and to hit the ball, you jump to the left and jerk your head as well. It helps ease the stress on your neck as you lunge forward. I’m guessing you’re ready to at least attempt to hit a pitch.”

“Yes Sir!” the bowed filly cheered, which allowed her bat to fall to the ground. Almost immediately, she picked it up and stood ready to launch a ball deep.

All Aiden could do was giggle at the mistake, it was one he also made as a younger colt. He was ready to start pitching. Cradling the ball in his right wing, he gave it a light underhand toss and crossed Applebloom’s vision as she swung the bat with all her might.

But she swung at air. In fact, she had already seen the ball wiz by before even attempting the swing. “Maybe you could swing a little earlier,” Aiding Hearts encouraged, “you know, when I’m about to launch it. Make sure you’re watching where the ball is, though, can’t be swinging at invisible piñatas.”

“Ah s’pose,” Applebloom managed to mouth through the clenched bat. A second pitch came, and while the bat did cross the plate at the same time as the ball, both missed once again. The swing, however, was even worse, striking downward as opposed to across. It was clear from her drooped expression that the filly felt as if she could no longer attempt a baseball cutie mark.

Aiden was not as keen to give up, “Maybe you’re just left-hoofed at batting.”

“Left-hoofed?” Applejack was even as confused as her inquiring sister.

“All I mean by that is that maybe switching sides of the plate to get a smoother swing. That’s why there are two batting boxes, some ponies hit from the right side, and some from the left.”

Applebloom took a trot to the other side of the imaginary home plate. She was ready to swing at the pitch, but then remembered she needed to switch around her bat; didn’t want to hit the catcher with the pitch. As the third pitch was lobbed in, Applebloom took a mighty, smooth hack at the pitch, which buzzed by Aiden’s left. Applebloom shrieked, “I did it! I did it!” She took a quick look at her flank, realizing it was as barren as before.

“Don’t feel too bad, little filly. It takes a fair number of hits before you even come close to receiving your cutie mark.”

As comforting of a statement as that was, it raised a sort of red flag for the Crusader. Who was this guy to say when anypony would get a cutie mark? His flank was as empty as hers, and he was many years her elder. The filly’s curiosity got the better of her, “Mister Hearts, why don’t you have your cutie mark yet? Aren’t you an adult?”

“Applebloom!” Applejack snapped, “That ain’t an appropriate question to casually ask anypony!”

“You’d be surprised how often I’m asked that, though.”

“Really?” both sisters asked.

Aiden nodded his head in merry dismay. Although Applejack had been the one to dismiss the initial inquiry, she was now curious, “Now I guess I have to wonder somethin’. If you’ve been a baseball player, and this is your seventh season, then why don’t you have a baseball cutie mark?”

The younger Apple gave the beginnings of a taunting look, but changed her mind once she saw Aiding Hearts in a dejected state. As many times as he had heard it, it still pained him to listen to that again, and even moreso when he had to repeat what he said many times before, “You see…neither of my parents were talented at baseball. My father worked for a charity, but my mother was a… Actually,” he interjected with a hint of optimism, “Do you two have an hour or so? I’d like to bring you somewhere where the story might make more sense.”

Applejack agreed, and Applebloom more than obliged, even if it was to just make sure Aiden conducted himself honestly in front of her sister. There was no reason for Aiden to take advantage of a romantic opportunity, he just wanted to showcase why his past has led him to his blank vision of himself.