Chapter Text
Applejack is stubborn as bull, would think that she knows better about everything, and would constantly be working down at Sweet Apple Acres so she wouldn't be able to spend time with you as much as you'd like. She often gets Applebloom to guilt you into staying with them on the farm if you aren't living with them yet. She's a hot head (though not as bad as Dash or Rarity) but still, arguments would be common and they would be bitter; she constantly uses her "element of honesty" to mask insults to your occupation or anyone in your life she doesn't like, as well as her guilt-tripping you into "Pulling your weight" around the farm. Along with her unmasked disdain for any creature in your life, she can be very direct with her criticisms about your job, often secretly tampering with any work you bring with you. She all but drags you to an outing with her five friends, promising you that they are "The right crowd for ya, sugarcube. You're gonna love 'em." Obviously ironic, given what she thinks about your friends, but any mention of that will fall on deaf ears. "Just me a chance, sugarcube. Ya do trust me, don't you?"
However, Applejack is fiercely loyal and protective, making sure you're never in danger, especially when she's busy with any Elements of Harmony business. She'd probably get better over time (with her friend's and family's help), but if you hadn't broken it off at that point with her, it would be a miracle.
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"Just doesn't wanna hear it...can't keep their mouth shut for two darn seconds..."
Applejack mumbled to herself, picking up a stray apple that fell wayside of the tree. She bent down and bit the apple by its stalk, the ruddy red almost clashing with the green late-spring grass.
The orange mare was doing her regular chores around Sweet Apple Acres - bucking apples for the spring pies and jam - but she wasn't her usual chipper self.
Applejack spat the apple from its stalk into a barrel and marched to the tree next to the bare one she had just harvested from. It was about midday, nearly lunchtime - the sun was high and warm in the sky, and apart from a few white wisps that etched the horizon, there wasn't a cloud in sight.
It would have been a lovely day if not for the bitter mood the mare was in.
Applejack reared up and kicked the tree behind her, the bark rocking and nearly splintering as its fruits fell and peppered the ground below it.
"Don't even wanna listen to me for two seconds. I ain't the problem here! But no," the mare huffed through her nose as she grabbed the barrel and dragged it to her new tree.
"Can't give somepony advice no more without it bein' 'mean' and 'intrusive'." What's that even mean, anyway?"
As Applejack lamented to the tree as she picked up the apples, a yellow coloured filly came galloping up. She wore a big pink bow that bounced with every step and was smiling from ear-to-ear.
"Applejack!" The young filly called, trotting up to her sister. "Granny wanted me to tell ya that she made lemonade for you! It's in the kitchen if you want it."
Applejack didn't turn towards her sister, still herding the last few apples into the barrel.
"Thanks, Applebloom. I'll be there in a moment."
Applebloom must have sensed Applejack's mood, as she asked, "Is... something wrong, Aj?"
Applejack sighed and wiped some sweat off her brow. "No. Or - I don't think so, anyway."
The yellow filly tilted her head. "I don't know whatcha mean."
"Me 'n my - my..." Applejack sank down to sit on the soft grass. Her little sister followed suit, eching closer. A light breeze stirred their manes slightly.
"Me and my special somepony got into a little...uh. 'Disagreement', I guess. I dunno -"
"You had a fight with your special somepony?!" Applebloom shrieked, her eyes wide. "Oh, Aj, that's horrible! What happened?"
"Woah, woah! It's nothing like that! This ain't a... a 'proper' fight. Well, I hope not, anyway. Naw, we just had a little disagreement."
"About what?" The younger filly shuffled even closer to her big sister, staring inquisitively into her green eyes.
"I don't like the friends they have. Part of the wrong crowd. I wanna look out for 'em, y'know?" Applebloom nodded. Aj continued.
"And - I said to 'em, 'cause its my job to be honest with 'em and all, I don't think that they're good for ya, sugarcube. I reckon that they're bad news. Better drop them while ya can before something happends."
"Is that when you started fightin'?" Applebloom asked.
"I guess. I dunno why they're being so stubborn about it. It's not like I said anythin' mean or nothin'!" The orange mare exclaimed.
Her sister nodded encouragingly. "Is that why ya got here so Grumpy?"
Applejack snorted. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks for letting me unload all 'o that sugarcube. Sorry if that was to much or anythin'."
The filly shook her head. "Don't worry 'bout me! I know what to do!"
The orange mare tilted her head. "Do...what?"
Applebloom smiled sweetly and stretched up to whisper in her big sister's ear.
Later that night, a colt was making his way the streets of Ponyville to his house. He was one of your co-workers - one of the only ponies in the place that you could stand. You told Applejack about how rude the other workers are to you once, and how nice he was. Applejack never forgot his name.
The colt rubbed his neck and yawned. It had been another closing shift for him, and boy, did he feel it. Dark circles bloomed under his eyes, his mane was greasy and stuck out in clumps, as if he had been running his hooves through it.
As he rounded a corner and made it to his street, a glimmer caught his eye. He stepped closer, curiosity stirring within him.
On his doorstep was a jar. It had a red tin top and no label, its contents a mushy green. Picking up the jar, a small note had been tied to the top of the lid. It read:
Somepony is thinking about you...
Signed ???
How strange. Did he have a secret admirer or something, like in those old-fashioned romance books? The thought made his cheeks warm a light pink.
Unlocking his door, the colt wondered who had left the jar. Was it somepony he knew? A friend? A colleague? Was it…you?
The colt shook his head at the last thought. Your special somepony was Applejack. He had met her at your birthday party. She seemed fine enough- although she was a little tight lipped, and she kept staring at him.
Making his way to the kitchen, the colt flicked on a light to get a better look at the jar. It was a normal jar - small and squat, with the remains of a peeled-off sticker on one side. The colt read the note again, the price of parchment tied to a thin piece of twine that wrapped around the jar's rim. The hoof writing was messy and thin, almost as if it was done in a hurry.
Speaking of the jar, what was in it anyway?
The colt opened the red lid and peered inside. The green mush's aroma plunged into his nostrils. Apples. This was apple jam! Not zap apple, unfortunately. But he supposed this would be fine.
The colt smiled. Perhaps someone from the Apple family then?
As he pondered, he began to look for a spoon. He found the last clean one in his cutlery drawer, pulled it out and plunged it into the jam. Thin pieces of apples slid off of the spoon as the colt pulled out a large chunk of the jam. He smiled, licked his lips and raised the spoon to his mouth.
The flavour was…strange. This wasn't the usual apple jam the colt was used to. It was…chalky. Bitter. It tasted almost acidic in its sourness.
The colt frowned as he swallowed. Maybe he had just gotten a bad jar?
He licked his lips and cleared his throat. Who did leave that jar? He should ask his neighbours tomorrow. Unless a delivery pony sent it.
The colt licked his lips and swallowed again. Heat began to trickle up his back.
Maybe he could ask you. Yeah, you'd know what to do. You're clever that way. Not like him.
He coughed. Something came up his throat when he did. He went to swallow it, disgusted a little, but found that he couldn't.
He coughed again, this time sending his mouth flying open. A foam, thick and nearly white splattered onto the colts floor.
He stared at it in horror as his stomach gurgled. The heat that had swallowed his body was blazing now, making sweat drip off his forehead and onto the floorboards below. The edges of his vision were fuzzy.
The colt tilted his head to one side as more and more foam, vomit and even blood began to force themselves out of his stomach. Tears burned his eyes as he coughed, unable to breath against the assault from his own body. He began to shake, eyes rolling back into his head as he hit the floor with a loud crack, his legs jittering awkwardly against the hard planked floor below him.
Hoofsteps from his living room echoed throughout the house. "It's such a shame, ya know…my sugarcube is gonna be devastated with your death."
The choking continued. An orange earth pony stepped into the light and looked down at the colt, disdain and coldness in her grass green eyes.
"But I know what's best for 'em. I know how to treat them right. And I gotta do what I have'ta to protect them, ya know?"
The vomiting and shaking were slowing down; the colt's eye whites were like pearls in the light.
"When my sugarcube finds out ya committed suicide because of…well, everything in your life, yeah they're gonna be sad for a while, but they'll turn to me when they need me. Why?"
The orange mare leaned over. Only the occasional tick or twitch from the colt's body lingered.
"Because they love me. And I love them. And nothin' is ever gonna get between us."
You walked back home with a spring in your step. You had just gotten a deal at the market for this new book you were dying for, and you got a half-off dessert as well. You trotted back to your house, whistling a merry tune you've heard a particular party pony sing. Making your way to your front door, you were surprised to find a jar sitting on your door mat. It was from Sweet Apple Acres.
You roll your eyes, the argument from earlier still fresh in your mind. You pick it up anyway. It was apple jam, after all. Even though you told them not to, the apple family would always give you an extra jar, or a whole pie every time you visited. "Nonsense. Yer family. And family's gotta eat," Granny Smith had said. You still smile at the memory.
The jar bore the Sweet Apple Acres' sticker on it, as well as a label stuck on the jar lid with a love-heart sticker. It read:
I'm sorry, sugarcube. Talk about it tomorrow at lunch?
-Your favourite Apple
Despite yourself, you smile. Maybe lunch tomorrow wouldn't be so bad…