The stories of EQG, as seen from the guest room in Applejack's house.
Applejack's home has many extra rooms, but one is a bit more special than the rest. A tiny guestroom sits right above her bed, with an open trap door in between. Perfect for late-night chats when the thoughts are too loud for sleep.
People with nowhere to go, or no one else to talk to. Friends in need of support, and enemies in need of friends. They all find their way to that guestroom. Applejack is the rock of the group, and that won't be changing anytime soon.
...That's the plan, anyway.
(Tags to be added as new characters/categories are brought in)
Applejack’s home had three floors, though her dad once joked it was more like two and a half. What had begun life as an attic grew over a wealthy century to a maze of nooks, closets, and bedrooms, with three different trap doors leading up to them and no walkways between. Crawl spaces and broken walls formed a jungle gym in Applejack’s younger years, where her and Rainbow Dash made their first childish adventures among the old cradles and chests. There was a time when four generations made their home in that house, and all of them left stories behind.
Applejack frowned upwards into the darkened hole above her bed. A spare bedroom up there, like a half-dozen others in the old house. There weren’t four generations here anymore. Just two.
...Only one, soon enough.
She pushed down the thought, calling out to the darkness. “You got enough room up there?”
A girl’s voice answered, wobbling with hidden fear. “I’m fine.”
Applejack shrugged from her prone position. “Just call if you need more blankets, Sunset.”
Mention of the girl’s name brought a wry smile. If that voice had come ten days earlier, Applejack would have grabbed the shotgun and called it defense. Funny old world.
The trap door between them broke five years ago. Mac had offered to fix it, but Applejack adopted the space as her own. She didn’t need more storage, and the slanting roof left room for little else. A narrow bed remained, though, left over from a boarder in Granny’s youth. A window at its head offered a fine view of the orchard, and Applejack fixed the place up into her own tiny guest room. She figured the “coolness” of it would tickle Rainbow pink at their next sleepover.
A couple other things figured into it, too. Twelve year-old Applejack had crushed hard for her childhood friend, and snuggling up to watch the sunrise from that window seemed the perfect thing to share. Shyness and shame stalled the confession, and then a few forged texts murdered crush and friendship all in one go.
Applejack grimaced. One bad thought led directly to another. The brain was noisy tonight. She shuffled, trying to get sleepy, but the body was no more comfortable. The awkward autumn temperature left her sweating in her blanket, but shivering without. Her heavy pajama top scratched her wrists, and the mismatched sweatpants seemed to cook everything but her chilly feet. She rolled, trying to find a sweet spot, then rolled again.
The third roll drew a humorless chuckle from above. Applejack looked up through the trap door as Sunset’s voice emerged. “Sorry. It must be hard to sleep with Sunset Shitter so close.”
“You’re fine,” Applejack offered.
Sunset gave an angry snort. “No, I’m not. I broke you guys up, I blackmailed, bullied, lied...”
“Water under the bridge,” Applejack said.
“Applejack, I tried to kill you.”
“Water under the bridge.” It came out a little more forcefully that time. Applejack watched a few red hairs trickle down as Sunset leaned towards the hole. Moonlit darkness cast both their faces in shadow, though Applejack could see the shine off green eyes watching her.
“But that’s why I’m here, right?” Sunset pressed forward. “In this bedroom in particular. So you can keep an eye on me.”
Yes, but not in the way Sunset thought. The big house had plenty of guns, blades, and pills a newly homeless girl might find entirely too interesting.
No reason to tell. “You looked like you needed to talk.”
“It’s a school night.”
“Don’t care,” Applejack shrugged. “Talk to me. What’s eating you?”
Sunset’s voice rose to a whispered shout. “Oh, I don’t know. Everything!?”
A twitch of a smile graced Applejack’s face. Just like talking things through with Applebloom. “Everything’s a big place, sugar. Where do we start?”
“That’s the catch,” Sunset said. “I have nowhere to start from. Everything that I used to be is up in smoke. That’s okay because everything I used to be is garbage, but it’s all I had.”
“You got new things,” Applejack tried.
The try failed. “What? ‘Friendship?’ Be real, Applejack. I know you guys are trying to be nice, and I appreciate it. But friendship is different. I can’t have what you guys have.”
“Why not?”
“Because friendship needs trust. And there is no way, no how you guys are ever going to trust me after all I put you though.”
“Who told you that?”
Silence. “Rarity, Pinkie… which one of them said that?”
“No one,” Sunset admitted.
“They’re giving the new Sunset a chance.” Applejack shrugged again. “Seems pretty reasonable to ask you do the same.”
“But there is no ‘new’ Sunset. It’s just me. It always was. The same Sunset who–”
Applejack cut her off before the next self-whipping began. “You could have fooled me. That rainbow thing… it’s like it flipped a switch in you. Night and day.”
“No switch.” The red hairs rustled as Sunset shook her head. “You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die? That’s what I saw in the rainbow. I saw everything in those two seconds, and more. It was my life, but I was seeing it through others’ eyes. And I felt it from their side, too. I cried every tear, endured every slap. Felt my stomach twist as I was mocked in the hall. Then I reached the present and looked back, and you know what I saw?”
No choice. “What?”
The head retracted as Sunset pulled away. “Nothing else. Everyone I’d ever touched came off sadder and angrier for it. Not one single person left better for my being born.”
A joyless laugh followed from above. “That’s all there is to it. The Elements of Harmony didn’t rewrite my personality or anything. They just showed me loud and clear what a piece of shit person I am.”
“Was,” Applejack corrected.
“It’s not that easy.” A shuffle from above marked Sunset’s fidgeting. “I can’t just pretend that was someone else. If I deny it, I deny me! It is utter delusion to say I’m not her.”
Another laugh came, this one shrill as Sunset’s wobbling voice sped up. “Although... why not? I can live with a delusion. I’m in Shitter’s clothes, wearing her face, and that’s fine! I’m not her. She can go to hell where she belongs.”
“Sunset,” Applejack said, too softly to interrupt.
“That’s stupid. I am her. I’m the bitch who did all that. But I can’t be! I don’t feel like her. I don’t care about her. But what else can I be, other than Sunset Shitter? It’s like Schrodinger’s Cat – am I? Am I not? I don’t know. I’m lost. I don’t know who I am, what I am...”
“Sunset, get down here.”
It came out louder this time. Enough to break the tirade, and turn it to a mumble. “Sorry Applejack, I didn’t mean–”
“I said get down here.” Applejack sat up with the words. Chilly outside the blankets, but not in a bad way. She propped herself on the side of the bed and looked up expectantly.
Limply, almost as though it inherited Sunset’s fear, the rope ladder fell to its spot. A smudged pink slipper descended tentatively from the darkness, followed by the yellow girl in old pajamas. The ropes trembled with their burden as Sunset came down, step by step. Moonlight glinted off dry, sleepy eyes that only looked once to Applejack’s frown before turning away.
“Sorry,” Sunset said again. “I should leave.”
Applejack didn’t justify that with a response. Instead, she patted the side of her mattress. “C’mere.”
Sunset obeyed, perching on the worn sheets a good meter from her host.
She wasn’t getting off that easily. Applejack pushed her feet to the ground and got one solid scooch closer. Sunset made to pull away, but a strong peach arm reached around to her far shoulder and held her still. The initial flinch passed, and Sunset allowed herself to be pulled into a one-armed embrace.
Words came easily. Applejack wasn’t much of a speaker, but these were plain as day. “All that thinking, sugar, and you missed the obvious. You ain’t lost. You’re right here.”
Plain as day. “You ain’t that Shitter, neither. You’re Sunset.”
Sunset tried to make it hard, just like ‘Bloom used to. “Then I am that Shitter. That past, it’s me.”
“No it ain’t.”
This part was harder. Applejack looked to the moon, swearing for the umpteenth time its craters formed a broken skull.
No matter. “The past ain’t real. It’s gone. Dead. Over with. You ain’t the same person you were ten days or five minutes ago. Different cells, different air in the lungs, different experiences. Same goes for everyone. Ain’t no you in the world besides the you right here.”
Not even that, for very long.
No need to say that part. “You’ll be alright, Sunset. I’ll look out for you. I just need you to let me.”
Silence came from the other girl. But there was a tiny nod, and that was good enough for Applejack. She watched Sunset watch the wall, and felt the trembling breaths move from Sunset’s chest to hers. Felt the tremble grow stronger and saw the tears leak out as a choked voice asked, “Why?”
Sunset swallowed, replacing the choke with a sob. “Why are you being so nice to me? Don’t you remember what I did?”
Sophomore year, maybe six months after the gang broke up. Applejack never found out how Sunset learned her parents died. Two weeks, one funeral, and fifty hours of farm work later Applejack returned to school to find her own pity party in full swing. Miss Celestia gave her a tissue, saying Sunset had been nice enough to tell them all Applejack lost her mom and lover all in one night. The whole school went to give their condolences over MyStable, and they all saw the forged post: a mournful ‘Applejack’ saying she’d miss her dad, but at least Big Mac would keep her warm at night.
It was the end that hit her hardest. When they learned it was a prank, everyone seemed to forget about the dead parents. They laughed it off, and two days later no one would give her the time of day.
“Wish I could forget,” Applejack said honestly.
Rainbow tried to comfort her. It was the first time they’d spoken in six months. Said she was sorry it happened. Said it must’ve been extra tough because of how close the Apples were, and Applejack shoved her into a wall.
Should have done better. Should have been smart.
...No. Applejack had a lot on her mind that day. Couldn’t tell Sunset to forgive herself and not reserve the same courtesy.
“How can you not hate me?” Sunset asked in a hoarse whisper.
A half-truth answered. “I ain’t got that kind of time.”
I’m dying by the second.
A pause. Then, “Nothing says I have to like you, Sunset. Nothing says I have to trust you, either. Those things will come in their own time, if they have a time. Forgiveness, though, that’s different. There ain’t a thing in the world which can’t be forgiven. Same goes for people, and the things people do.”
Yellow fingers seemed blue in the moonlight as Sunset fidgeted with her hair. A soft “heh,” escaped her, somehow gentler than the dark chuckles before. She never returned the hug, but the blue fingers descended to cover Applejack’s grip.
“That’s a nice way of looking at it.” A smile was in the voice – weak, but real.
Applejack gave a light scoff. “It ain’t about ‘nice.’ Health and wellness, that’s all. Hanging on to the bad don’t do one lick of good, and plenty of harm.”
Forgiveness.
Applejack looked to the moon again, hiding the grim twist in her smile.
Forgive everything? A nice idea. One of Mom’s old lessons Applejack forgot in the two years she spent hating Sunset Shimmer to death. Never exactly forgave her either, just… hard to hate someone as sad as this.
Dad’s voice floated through her brain, reading Mark Twain to an eight year-old Applejack. “But who prays for Satan? Who ever thought to pray for the one sinner who needed it most, who most needed a friend and had not a single one?”
Hatred.
“I am the wrong person for this.”
Applejack half-voiced an excuse before realizing she had not spoken out loud. She breathed in and felt the gunk fly up her nose. Hadn’t noticed she was crying.
Forgiveness.
“It’s hard,” Applejack admitted, this time out loud. “Forgiving. Twice as hard for yourself. But – I don’t know – you just gotta. It’s for the best.”
She was faltering. Feeling like a liar for preaching what she didn’t do until this very second.
But the tremble was gone from Sunset’s breathing. She patted Applejack’s grip and stood, turning to face her with a thin and hopeful smile.
Applejack returned it – liar or no, she did good.
“Thanks.” The yellow fingers resumed their twisting of the hair. “That was good to hear, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Anytime, sugar.” Applejack grinned, and grinned a little wider as she laid back down. “Hey, one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
A second’s pause, and Applejack extended her arms. “Six hours til we wake up. Let’s snuggle.”
Sunset’s blush could be seen in the moonlight, and her tone shifted to one of nervous diplomacy. “No! I mean I’m not… you know, I’m not like… I won’t...”
A free and honest laugh belted from Applejack’s throat. “Scale back, girl, the gay farmer ain’t looking to collect rent. Truth is, Applebloom used to beat herself up real bad too. She’d come to me, I’d talk her down, and we’d spend the night. Only seems fair you get the second part, too.”
The blush remained, though a snarky smile replaced the fear. “Can I call you, ‘Big Sis?’”
Applejack’s heart leaped upwards. Humor. Praise God, the girl would be okay.
She rolled with it. “If you like.”
Enough cuddly sleepovers with Rainbow Dash taught Applejack they weren’t awkward if no one made them so. Her embrace was firm and unromantic, and the two only shared a few embarrassed giggles before the late hour took its toll. Applejack didn’t even notice when Sunset’s breathing turned to gentle snores, nor when her own joined in.
A cool night, but the house was muggy. Applejack laid atop her sheets in boxers and bra, palms sweating and eyes on the trap door. Heat in November was another farmhouse routine – the old furnace always took a few chilly days to realize full blast was too much.
Her lips moved without noise, grasping for the right words. Hard to have a conversation with the girl upstairs after all that happened between them.
A voice came from above, putting a grin on Applejack’s face. In hindsight, it was silly to fret starting a talk when Rainbow Dash was involved.
“Okay, I admit it.” Rainbow’s nasal voice leaped cheerfully from the dark. “I was a little leery of this attic guestroom thing at first, but it’s really cool. I can see for miles from this window. And then there’s the rope ladder to get up, and right opposite me is this freaky little doorway straight out of a horror movie.”
Applejack called upwards in mock concern. “You scared?”
“Nah,” came the predictable reply. “It’s just the sort of thing that like, gremlins, or button-eyed clones climb out of. Or in those family movies, where the door leads to a world of magic and fun.”
A pause. Then, “Do you think…?”
Applejack gave a chortle. “I’m pretty sure there’s no portal to Equestria in my house.”
“I’m gonna check.” Two thumps from above marked Rainbow’s descent from her bed. Low creaks matched each footstep, then a different squeal came as she opened the two-foot door.
“Holy crap, A.J., it’s got me! You got to run! It’s coming for you next! Argh, bleaugh, bluh...”
Applejack silently thanked Rainbow for keeping the ‘shouting’ low enough to not wake the house. She never moved, and a few seconds later more creaks traced Rainbow’s return to the bed.
“Yeah, there’s nothing there.”
“Told’ja.”
Bed-springs groaned as Rainbow fell to her sheets. “Kind of funny, though, it looks like it goes into the back of that big walk-in closet. You know, with all the old-timey clothes?”
“Yep.” Applejack’s grin remained firm. “What were we… nine? You grabbed the army uniform, I grabbed the Zoot Suit, and we played soldiers and gangsters. We thought Granny was going to kill us when she saw, but she just said to hang ‘em back up when we were done.”
Rainbow groaned. “After giving us a history lesson. Though it was kind of cool hearing your grandpa jumped out of airplanes.”
The conversation lapsed into a thoughtful silence, which for Rainbow meant a fifteen second wait. “Nine, huh? And I think I was eleven the last time I was here. So… five to six years since we’ve done this? Sound about right?”
“Eeyup.”
“Wow.”
Another pause came, less comfortable than the first. Applejack waited, hands behind her head.
Rainbow wore it like face paint when something was on her mind. The old attic bed played a grinding symphony as the physical girl rolled back and forth, using muscles to propel her thoughts.
No sense speaking first. Rainbow would just clam up.
Applejack counted fourteen rolls before the talk began. “Why’d you stop inviting me over? Even before Sunset forged those texts, it’s like we were already drifting.”
“Got scared,” Applejack said, shrugging into her pillow. “You never said a bad word when I told you how queer I was. I didn’t want to risk what we had, and a gay girl inviting her best friend over seemed a mighty good way to send the wrong message.”
The attic creaked, a little differently this time as Rainbow leaned from her bed. Applejack saw the shadowy head come into view, and then the glint of teeth.
“You had a crush on me, didn’t you?”
A mistake Applejack had long made peace with. She grinned back upwards, unashamed. “Sure did.”
“Thought so.” The smug voice followed as Rainbow retracted her head. “Who could resist, right? I’m that awesome.”
Applejack’s grin remained. She turned to the side, sighing as her cheek fell to a cooler part of the pillow. The heat wasn’t so bad. If she just stayed uncovered and pushed her always-chilly feet together, sleep would come easily en–
“Hey.”
The voice had no smile this time. Applejack cracked open a green eye and gazed upwards. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
A gentle laugh led Applejack’s response. “Sugar, I ain’t never once apologized for liking girls, so don’t you apologize for liking guys.”
“Fair,” Rainbow said. But there was more. “I’ve been thinking about back then. You know, when we had our big fight. All five of us were friends, but these two-girl sleepovers made you and I best friends. We shared everything. I can’t help but think it opened the way for Sunset’s shit when they stopped.”
A hard, angry snort from above. “And I don’t even know if that’s just an excuse. What the hell happened, Applejack? If we had sat our dumb asses down and talked it out, Sunset’s scheme would have been Sun-sunk. Doesn’t it say something really shitty about us that three forged texts blew up our friendship?”
“Water under the bridge, Dash.” Applejack returned to her back. There would be time to sleep later.
“You’re so cool,” Rainbow chuckled. “But seriously, what happened?”
Good question. Applejack had an answer. “We were fourteen. Young. Dumb.”
Her frown morphed to a snarl, for just one second. “Proud. That’s the crux, I think, we were too damn proud. I was, at least. I wanted to make up, but you had to make the first move. You didn’t even need to apologize, just invite me somewhere to let me know we were cool with each other. When you didn’t, I… sort of figured we weren’t.”
“Me too, I guess.” Creaking bed-springs from above announced Rainbow’s return to her thought-rolling. “Same with Rarity, I can totally see her doing that. I even caught her badmouthing us at the trend-setter’s table, saying she didn’t miss us at all. I was a jerk, you were a dumb redneck, and so on. I paid her back during dodge-ball, but… looking back, obviously that only made things worse.”
Applejack nodded. “Right. And you know Rarity was just saying those things to convince herself. She didn’t mean them.”
...Probably. Rarity was always the odd one in their little cross-clique gang of friends, and that’s because she wasn’t odd. Applejack never quite learned what the rich, fashionable girl saw in the rest of them. Maybe charity – gracing the misfit losers with her presence. Or maybe she liked being around people she felt superior to.
Rainbow only caught the last part. “Yeah, she’s cool enough. But what about Flutters and Pinkie Pie? They’re not blowhards like the rest of us. In hindsight I guess I’m surprised neither of them tried to reach out.”
“Pinkie’s shy in her own way,” Applejack said. “And Flutters even has it in her name. Once they got it in their minds us three wanted nothing to do with them, they packed in.”
Rainbow gave a wry chuckle. “Give Fluttershy some credit – she can hold a grudge with the best of them. And Pinkie… eh. Didn’t help that I picked a fight every time she opened her mouth. I don’t blame her for staying away; she gets enough of that from her old lady.”
“Oh, wait.” Springs creaked again as Rainbow leaned through the trap door, voice earnest. “Speaking of which, how’s your grandma doing? I saw the wheelchair when I came in.”
Damn.
No room for error, with Rainbow’s eyes upon her. Applejack turned the hitched breath into a yawn, moving her lips into an easy, folksy smile.
“Fine.”
“I heard about the cancer...”
Who the hell told you!?
Rainbow couldn’t hear the thoughts. “Listen A.J., you let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Folksy smile. Folksy twang. Rainbow might be the Pegasus, but Applejack was the rock. “It ain’t bad at all. Doc made us bring home the wheelchair, but I think Winona’s the only one who used it.”
She nodded, to herself more than the watching Rainbow. Better this way. No sense in sharing.
Rainbow chuckled at the joke, pulling her head from sight. “Good to hear. Sorry if I’m being too real tonight. Been thinking about things… I mean, we’ve been friends since kindergarten. Three forged texts later, and bam. Two years lost we’ll never get back.”
“No sense worrying about it.” Applejack let her eyes fall closed. “Dust in the wind, that’s all.”
“Stick with ‘water under the bridge,’” Rainbow laughed. “The other one’s a little too morbid for you.”
Right. Applejack glanced to the window, smiling at the new moon. No skull tonight. “Sorry, Dash. Just an old countryism.”
“You mean an old Kansas song,” Rainbow ribbed.
A grin in reply. “Same thing, if you ask me.”
Again came the shift in Rainbow’s tone, this time to enthused attention. “Dude. On the subject, I’m going to start playing music again. You in?”
“Resurrecting the old band idea?” Applejack asked. The girls talked about it freshman year, and then Sunset happened.
...Not fair. Sunset was the match, but all their egos gave her plenty of tinder.
No time like the present. “I’m in. Now goodnight, Dash. Some of us have to wake up early to cook breakfast for y’all.”
“Sweet!” Dash squealed, voice cracking as it reached top pitch. “Gonna be so awesome. The five of us banging it out, just like it should be.”
“G’night, Dash.”
“Yeah, yeah, goodnight. But seriously, I have a name picked out for us and everything. And did you ever hear Pinkie on the drums? She did a ten minute solo once and it rocked the house!”
“‘G’night’ means ‘stop talking,’ Dash.”
“Sure, in a second. I have this amazing idea for a logo, and Rarity said it was too ‘busy’ or whatever but she’d try to make it work. And Fluttershy’s in, too. Fluttershy! All five, back together. I even talked Miss Celestia into letting us use the band room for practice. There’s rules and junk we have to follow, but oh man, let me tell you about how I got Miss Luna on board. I had my guitar, see, and she was all...”
Ode to Joy. Just two guitar strings to sound like a mighty good musician at Christmas time.
Applejack loved it since she was a kid. The first song she ever learned, and the first one she belted out to the family. She even loved the name. “Ode to Joy” – singing out just for the sheer joy of it. Plucking those old, familiar notes never failed to pick her out of a funk. Especially at this time of the year, with Christmas just ten days away.
“Melt the clouds of sin and sadness, drive the dark of doubt away...”
There was a first day for everything. Three times through the song and she capped it with a long, glum sigh.
Fourth time’s the charm. Sitting propped on her bed, Applejack’s hands went through the lazy motions on her guitar. It wasn’t even memorization. That took thought and focus. Her fingers knew what to do, leaving her mind free to watch the darkened sky.
Clouds and snow. Cold and unfriendly.
“Joyful music leads us onward in the triumph song of life...”
She mouthed the words. Never sang. That was Rainbow’s jam. If Applejack ever sang they’d have to rename into the Frogbooms.
“Frogbooms.” Applejack smiled. She read once that even fake smiles made you feel better.
...Horseapples. The smile fell. She called out, “You gonna hide up there forever?”
Sunset’s grumbling voice gave no hint of surprise. “How’d you know I was here?”
The fingers never stopped moving. “Hearts unfold like flowers before thee...”
“I heard you open the window. Besides, this is an old house. Y’all could sit still as a dead tree and there’d be this little noise from wherever you were. Made for some fun hide and seek back in the day.”
Sunset was in no mood for story-time. She all but barked, “Stop the music.”
Applejack placed her palm on the strings, silencing them.
No word of thanks. No apology for sneaking in. It was almost needless when Sunset said, “I’m still mad.”
Applejack laid the instrument aside. “That’s your right.”
Sunset went off. Healthier for the girl than keeping it in. “I’m going to be honest with you, I do not know if I’m ever going to be un-mad from this. You all absolutely crushed me when I needed you most. You threw me in the ditch to die ‘Anon-a-Miss-ly,’ and I’m really not big on reconnecting with my so-called friends after they put me through that.”
“It’s okay to be angry,” Applejack said calmly.
This would be tricky.
Sunset spat. “Don’t give me the ‘Big Sis’ routine, I don’t want to hear it. I know it’s okay to be angry. I am very okay with being angry with you. What I do want to hear is, why?”
“Why,” Applejack repeated.
“Yes,” Sunset said. “Why my so-called friends found it so believable that I’d stab them in the back like that.”
Applejack had asked herself the same question. It didn’t take her long to find the truth, and after a brief moment of consideration she offered it up. Better a hard answer than a lost question.
“It was.”
Sunset missed it. “It was what?”
“Believable.” Applejack settled the old guitar back on her lap. Music or no, the weight was comforting. “Hacked or anonymous account. Online. No trail. Embarrassing, discrediting, mean-spirited attacks right where it hurts. Sounds mighty familiar, don’t it?”
Logic was a start, not a finish. Sunset just growled. “You should have trusted me.”
Should have, yeah. “Sorry.”
A chuckle bubbled from above, more stress than humor. But there was a little humor, and that was something.
“Look, I’m not going to say, ‘sorry isn’t good enough,’ and become the biggest hypocrite in the world. I’m not going to pretend everything’s fine, either. You? I can forgive you. You forgave me for the dumb-ass funeral stunt, I can forgive you for anything. But how do I forgive the rest of them?”
“Same way I forgave you, sugar.” Applejack ran her hand down the guitar’s neck. “Just do it.”
Another chuckle, this one bitter. “I’m not as good as you.”
“You’re as good as you choose to be,” Applejack said. One of Granny’s sayings.
“I don’t believe that.”
Applejack eased herself into a lying position, the guitar still on her lap. “That’s your right. And it’s mine to believe you can do it.”
Anger didn’t die easily. Some was gone, the rest lingered in Sunset’s wit. “Like how you didn’t believe me back then?”
“Pretty much.” Applejack let the barb slide over her. “Except the other way around.”
Silence answered. Applejack mimed the motions of the guitar, waiting for the response. Watching the snow outside… too much dang snow this year. At least Sunset had a place to stay.
Words came from above. “I’ll try.”
Freckles creased themselves around a smile. “Glad to hear.”
That seemed like the end, but Sunset went on. “Weird to say, but I kind of see how Applebloom thought I was stealing you away. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have called you ‘Big Sis’ all the time.”
Applejack grimaced. “In hindsight, I should have stopped you.”
Another laugh, with bitter humor. “In hindsight, I shouldn’t have been the kind of girl who pulled Anon-a-Miss stunts in the past.”
Applejack ran with the joke. “In hindsight, I should have known it wasn’t you.”
“In hindsight, I shouldn’t have broken you up freshman year.”
“Sure, but in hindsight, us five shouldn’t have let ourselves get broken.”
“Son of a bitch!” Sunset called out, breaking the tone with a wry grumble. “I wonder if there’s a spell to go back in time and fix it all.”
“So you can make new mistakes?” Applejack quipped.
“Har-dee-har.” It was a chuckling sort of groan this time. “But see, then I could go back again and fix those ones and–”
Thunder and a flash outside drowned out her words. Sunset went on when she could. “Thunder with snow? This world’s weather sucks.”
“Heh. Sometimes.” Applejack’s smile faded as fat snowflakes began dropping once more. “I’m not sure you should be going home in this. Does your mom know where you are?”
Sunset’s wince was audible. “Miss Celestia… isn’t my mom. She made that pretty clear.”
“Oh.” Applejack blinked. “Sorry girl, I–”
“No-no, it’s cool. And yeah, I, uh, told her I was sleeping over. I, uh...” The words took a soft, bashful tone as Sunset finished. “I knew you wouldn’t throw me out. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Applejack. You’re a rock.”
Best damn compliment Applejack ever received. “Right you are, sugar. At least, whenever my head’s screwed on right. But this rock’s got school tomorrow. Y’all ready to pack in?”
An embarrassed laugh led the answer. “I’m already in my pajamas. Hit the lights, and I’ll… I’ll talk to the others tomorrow. Be there when I do, okay?”
Applejack set her guitar by the bed and stretched. “Sure as sure, ‘Little Sis.’”
“Stop that.”
They shared a last, dark chuckle and Applejack flicked off the lights.
