Archive of Our Own

“It’s funny, ain’t it. How it’s been so long, and we’re almost the same.”

It came as a joke, partnered by a small smile. A sour attempt to ease the tension.

“Yeah. Almost.”

Welp.

The returning retort was icy against thick air. A brush off, a cold shoulder, a reply that said it wasn’t time to joke yet. A line that struck just above the heart, but not precise enough to pierce it. Just enough to draw some blood and leave her bleeding.

Car horns and children’s voices echoed distantly over worn pavement. Muffled by rolled up windows, Applejack could only push the background noise to the corners of her mind, letting the rumbling of the truck beneath her cover each silent beat. Her seat was clammy and her limbs were stiff after sitting for a while, yet it had only felt like heartbeats, when the biting nerves in her stomach made the time pound through sand like a racehorse.

Cold wind blew against her truck, fighting for an interruption, but the air inside remained motionless. It was thick, stuffy, the only moisture her own blinked-back tears. She wanted to roll down the window but her arms were too tense to lift. Weighed down by grief, or, whatever it’s called when you grieve someone who’s still alive- it was dense, and suffocating, almost like the atmosphere was hinting that she shouldn’t be here.

Beyond the foggy windshield, tonight’s sunset unfolded in a frightening way. Applejack found it so, even though it was gorgeous, pink and orange and every color of her whirling stomach and Rainbow’s dyed hair, it was horrifically sentimental. The colors were warmer than usual, the same shade as when she was a child, when the world was brighter and the sky was her limit, when she didn’t know all the things she does now.

The sun fell lower as her truck sat idling. A neighborhood playground in the distance was full of shadows, where children yelled on the slide and where she couldn’t fit on the swings anymore. She wanted to kick her legs against the air like she used to, but she obeyed the rules of the world, sitting in her truck as the gas tank ran empty.

But it wasn’t a waste of gas, it wasn’t a waste of time, energy, or tears. Tonight was important. Tonight, she faced her biggest fear- a paralyzing one, one that had ruined more than just her own life.

She was sharing a space with someone she hadn’t been around in months. It’d been a year now, she still couldn’t grasp it- long enough for her presence to be foreign, long enough to feel like a stranger. They weren’t strangers, she knew too much about her to be- maybe just an acquaintance, now.

The thought of it hurt. Applejack considered them more than that.

Rainbow sat beside her in the passenger seat, looking just like she always did. Slouched over with a knee to her chest, hair in her face and sleeves over her hands. She looked so familiar and yet so far away, like a nostalgic smell you just can’t place. It’s a little uncanny, to paint a picture of a person in a memory, just to realize they haven’t changed a bit.

She was the same as Applejack left her. It was sickening to notice, really- how so much time can pass and people still don’t change. She had the same colored and damaged hair, soaked in dye and cut with uneven razors, the same hole in her favorite jacket and the same competitive gleam in her eye. It was Rainbow, no doubt about it. It’s just a little crazy to believe that some people don’t stray from themselves.

Applejack glanced down to her own lap, and noticed she was the same, too. The same baggy jeans, the same belt, one of the same rotating flannels. The same pair of boots and the same damn hat. Her eyes were just as green, her hair braided just like it always was. Hmm.

She looked to Rainbow again, who sat, in all her horrid posture glory, head leaned against the seat and eyes out the window. She looked the other way like it was the only place to look. Their gazes had only met a handful of times, as if each second of eye contact took a year off their lives.

“I still don’t really get the point of this.”

Her words came up forcibly. Raspy, as always, squeaky and shallow, like her mind wanted to say it but her throat wouldn’t let it out. It was doubtful, with a touch of ‘I don’t want to be here’ in her tone, fried and washed up like aquatic remains on an abandoned beach.

Applejack fought for a reply. Speaking was difficult when her heartstrings had tied a knot around her lungs. She still hadn’t gotten over the initial anxiety of seeing her again.

“I jus’ needed to tell you,” she replied, tired and slow, “that it was my fault. That I didn’t want us to end like that.”

Dash still didn’t look over and it made her pause.

“And I know you know that, after all the time that’s passed, but.. I wanted you to know that I do.”

Unresolved tension and unsaid words hung over their heads. Storm clouds of excuses, angered wishes of ache hovered between them like it felt left out. A few run-on apologies had been spilled and a few reminiscent times had been shared, yet there was so far to go. The air was still so heavy, and Applejack didn’t think she could carry the weight of it.

Their break-up hadn’t been like the movies. There wasn’t a big falling out, there wasn’t anything thrown and there were barely any tears. It ended, quietly, in the dark of the night and in the silence of winter, where no one else heard and no one else knew. It was quick, but it wasn’t ideal. Applejack couldn’t pretend it ended on good terms, but it wasn’t the worst, either.

Truth is, when she ended things, she didn’t fully know why. Some excuse about it not working out, but honestly, how can anything work out if you don’t talk about it.

She had realized, after flipping through months of memories, after recollecting blocked-out arguments and feelings, she realized that fear had driven them apart.

She was afraid of her family’s opinions and she had let it get to her. Simple and stupid as that.

Fear of judgement, communication, confrontation, fear of working it out- so, she didn’t. She walked away, and Rainbow ran the other direction. Mutual decision, she tells herself- even though, she knows somewhere, deep down concealed by shame, Dash wouldn’t have made the same choice.

Eventually, Applejack opened her blind eyes, one morning after a dream of Dash so vivid and sweet. She realized she hadn’t fought for her at all and she came to the nauseating reality that leaving wasn’t worth it. She found that she shouldn’t sacrifice her happiness for her family, and even if somebody might have something nasty to say, it wasn’t a good enough reason to leave.

She realized there was a huge difference between being afraid and being a coward. Fear is a feeling, while cowardliness is letting it get to you. Rainbow was strong, Rainbow wasn’t afraid of homophobic opinions. Applejack just was and instead of fighting for it, she let her go. She had believed that making the right decision was sometimes harder- but she soon knew it was the wrong choice.

And that’s why, even though it’s been a year, even against all her better judgements, she found herself next to Dash again- the same person she’s always been, the same hair and the same expression, holding that same look in her eye when her anger boiled over.

“What’s that mean, then,” Rainbow glanced over for a millisecond, “what do you really want?”

Here’s the catch- Applejack wasn’t sure what she wanted. Just like always. Did she just want to apologize, did she just miss her best friend- or did she really want her back? All of her?

“That’s… another reason why I’m here,” she replied, truthfully distant, “that’s what I want to find out.”

Rainbow sat up straighter. “Find out?”

“Yea, I’m tryin’ to find out, I’m bein’ honest, Dash-”

“Psh.” Dyed hair shook with disappointment. “That’s all you ever do.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Be honest,” she reprimanded. "When you shouldn’t.”

Damn.

But, Rainbow smiled a little.

Applejack couldn’t really tell what that meant.

The first few months after their breakup, Applejack had believed she thought of her less. Deleted pictures, changed her contact, took down instagram posts and removed songs from her playlists. She never blocked her but she never called- and yet, after all that work, when winter came and when the wind was too cold, all she could do was think of her.

Once the initial pain had passed, it came back with a second wave, stronger and worse, and she started to see Rainbow in every sunset, every street she passed, every lyric of every song. It’s like she worked backwards- at first the breakup was manageable, yet as time ran its course, so did her mind. Suppressed emotions and unprocessed guilt just crawled out of its cave and into the sockets of her eyes. Blinded by resentment, or love that never left- eventually, Applejack couldn’t take it anymore.

She tried to meet new people, she tried to start fresh relationships. And some of them were good, too good, and once she realized she only liked them because they reminded her of Dash- she had to cut all ties. Everything traced back to her like she had died and was haunting every person she ever cared about, meaning she haunted Applejack the most.

One miserable night, after another recurring dream, Applejack fought against every smart cell in her brain and sent the text. She didn’t know the exact reasoning, and she still doesn’t. She only knew she had to apologize for leaving. Apologize for the way she acted, the shit she said, the shit she didn’t say. Maybe find some closure around their story that came to a screeching halt.

She wasn’t sure about a lot, but the one thing she knew was she hadn’t meant for it to end like that. Hadn’t meant for it to end, at all. Hadn’t meant to lose her, yet that’s the thing about intentions. Just because she didn’t mean to do something doesn’t mean it won’t have consequences.

She sent that text once she started to see Rainbow in everything and maybe, she had regretted it, at first, when the text went unread for weeks. Embarrassment replaced the longing in her mind, until the screen lit up with a too familiar contact, and suddenly, the emotion of it all was back in full force.

And in the current moment, after Rainbow had eventually replied, and where she sat beside her for the first time in forever, all of Applejack’s words seemed to fly out the window. She had hoped this would help figure her feelings out, but Rainbow’s presence was enough to erase her intellect of anything worthwhile.

“I’m not mad anymore.”

Raspy words broke excessive thoughts. Applejack found her gaze, and Rainbow was looking back this time, her eyes merely swirls of discontentment. She didn’t look upset but she certainly wasn’t pleased. Like a lost dog in a storm, abandoned and hurt, yet still holding onto hope.

“Sure, I definitely was,” she added, and her gaze tore away, “but that was so long ago. It’s so…” she looked out the window again, “...distant.”

Applejack watched the way she folded her hands in her lap. Dash was never one who was able to sit still, yet her fidgeting was always prominent in confrontational situations, and Applejack couldn’t help but notice the unchanging trait. At least it told her that Rainbow still gave a damn- because she wouldn’t be nervous if this encounter didn’t matter to her, right?

“And I don’t blame you, I might’ve for a bit but I really don’t anymore,” she continued when Applejack had no reply, “You just… you were scared. You’ve said that,” she shrugged. “I get it.”

“But that don’t make it right, and y’needed to kn-”

“I know,” Dash cut in, “you can stop apologizing.”

Applejack formed her lips into an unsatisfied line. Her arm rested on the car door beside her and she fidgeted with the lock. If Rainbow would just look at her, for more than a second, maybe her apology would actually seem heartfelt.

“Then why don’t it feel like you want to accept it?”

Rainbow turned. Her face was blank but her eyes held paragraphs. They swam with every emotion that defined reminiscence and regret.

Her hair fell over her shoulder with the motion of her head and the colors spilled across her dark jacket. Applejack missed that hair. She missed it between her fingers and she missed the sharp smell of dye. It made her sick, it was so ill-fated to be near someone she used to know so well-

“Because I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.”

Rainbow’s statement came out rushed and heavy. She met her eyes, and Applejack felt her own widen at the weight of it, crashing against her chest the same way her heart pounded into her throat.

“Have you been sitting here in your own guilt, this entire past year, thinking it was only your fault?”

Her stare narrowed with her words. Regret poured over her tone, cooling off the heated question with the trace of remorse.

Applejack’s reply was rough. “It was my fault. I left you.”

Something in Rainbow’s expression twitched with division. Her jaw tensed, with the conflict of saying the wrong thing, eyes darting over freckled cheeks like there were lines to be read.

“I think we have to blame us both. We both fucked up,” she shrugged, and a hesitant smile split her expression, “we fucked up a lot.”

Applejack couldn’t hold back her light laughter. Her lips curved as a breath ran through heavy lungs, and her reaction eased Rainbow’s expression, just a touch.

“Y’always get straight to the point,” she said, and she couldn’t ignore the swell of nostalgia in her heart.

Her eyes betrayed her, darting to something past the windshield. The hum of the engine filled the silence again. Her smile didn’t last long, as another point of proof that Rainbow hadn’t changed struck her in the ribs, but the air was breathable, for a moment.

She agrees, there had been a lot they both took responsibility for, yet Applejack will be the first to admit she carries most of the blame. Sure, Rainbow might storm off before she talks it out, but Applejack could’ve chased her. Rainbow wasn’t the best communicator but Applejack could’ve tried.

They were young, confused, and horribly stupid- there was no going back, but at least, something sweet between them still remained.

“Yeah,” Rainbow sighed, and her eyes found the windshield too, “I think we should leave it at that.”

Shit.

Applejack's heart skipped a beat, like it should’ve been her last.

She didn’t like the sound of it.

Leave it at that.

Hmm. That should’ve made her feel better.

That’s what she was here for. Acknowledging they both messed up, forgiving each other for being young and stupid, and then leaving it at that. Yeah. That’s all she could’ve wanted.

And at the thought of it, just leaving it, them, in the past, how come her lips didn’t curve upward like Rainbow’s?

She glanced over. Blonde hair shielded her vision, yet not enough to hide what laid beyond it.

Her eyes danced across Rainbow’s face. Tired eyes, acne scars. Messy hair that she once ran her hands through. Bare lips and an unkissed nose. All so familiar and yet all explored so long ago.

Well, when Applejack said she didn’t know what she wanted, it all made sense, once Rainbow confirmed the forgiveness she had initially hoped for.

Leave it at that. How stupid. How could that be all she wanted. How could she want to leave all that love in the past. Well, in the present, how could she just take it with her and move on?

It was never going to be over, she concluded as the seconds drew out. This was never someone she could get over. Forgiveness wasn’t enough, and forgetting wasn’t even an option.

Dash, oblivious as always, didn’t sense the shift in the air yet. She seemed to be thinking on something else, eyes soft and held low on the playground in the distance, corners of her mouth slightly upturned with gentle satisfaction. How could she be satisfied?

“Rainbow?”

Applejack’s voice broke at the end of her name.

She turned at the sound. Bright hair brushed over her shoulder, smooth lips dropped open in surprise. All that emotion, all those thoughts, came rushing to her eyes as she met weary green ones.

A pause dragged on as she read a familiar freckled face. Eyebrows crushed against one another and confusion split her gaze.

“Yeah?”

Applejack shook her head.

After all this, after all that time she spent trying to get over her, trying to forget it, trying to forgive herself, trying to move on, it was all so pointless, all so worthless to get over someone who was just worth so much.

Rainbow didn’t see the gleam in her eye when she talked about something that interested her. She didn’t catch the glow of her skin when she walked in the sunshine and she didn’t hear the peak in her voice when excitement got the best of her.

Applejack heard it all and saw it all and felt it all. All of it. All that love. All that sickening, twisted, downright disgusting love she had for her was all right there and it hadn’t shrunk an inch. It really was never going to. Nothing could replace her, no amount of blurred memories, no amount of alcohol, no amount of pushing it down and praying could make her love disappear and it was horrible.

If there was one thing more stubborn than Rainbow, more stubborn than Applejack, it was nauseating, obnoxious love, as revolting as it sounds, there was nothing more stubborn than their emotions and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

Except take it and run, toward each other, this time.

“Rainbow,” she repeated.

Applejack addressed her as if she weren’t paying attention, even though all of her attention was directed to her face and Rainbow might be the least attentive person around but she must’ve put that trait on hold, right now.

“Yeah?”

Her reply was almost a whisper, so soft. Soft like her hair and her hands. Soft like their undisturbed memories and soft like their hearts before adulthood came crashing over. As soft as they were when they met and soft like before they had let each other go.

“I’m not…”

Applejack felt her voice shred through her throat. Her rasp started to match Rainbow's and it hurt, but not as much as those eyes burning on her skin. Not as much as the last day she saw her.

Her hands folded nervously in her lap, eyes darting across trees in the distance like there was something to be found. Her jaw unclenched half a dozen times before she inevitably closed it, words coming up empty even though she had encyclopedias worth of feelings to recite.

She shook her head again, and Rainbow probably started to think she was crazy. Applejack was dragging it out for no reason but she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Hesitation paralyzed her, but in her moment of anxiety, she remembered the lesson she learned last time- say it while you can, and make it worth something. There was no point in making the same mistake again. There’s no point in holding onto a secret that could be shared.

“I’m not over you.”

It was weak. As weak as she felt and as weak as her previous attempt to keep her. It was weak but it meant something, and it was stronger than letting it go unsaid.

She breathed so heavily, like the confession tore her lungs apart. She could’ve sworn it did.

“I’m never gonna be. It’s always… shit, it’s always gonna be you.”

Rainbow didn’t move as the words hit her ears. Only her eyes shifted, falling downward to hell like it was her next destination.

“I tried to replace you,” Applejack swallowed the words, “I really did.”

Her throat blazed with inevitable tears but her mind wasn’t ready to let it out. She had a feeling she might cry here but she was thinking it’d be later. She was hoping she wouldn’t cry first, but again, when was she ever stronger than Dash.

“You mean too much, it’s terrible, honestly,” she coughed a laugh, trying to keep out the red shame that crawled up her neck.

She gripped the flannel she wore like a lifeline, saving herself from potential heart attack. It seemed as if admitting this was forceful enough to rip her skin from its bone. Sure felt like it.

“I still love you, dammit, I almost thought it was gone, but seein’ you again is just makin’ it all come back.”

Hearing herself say it out loud was even worse than thinking it and it was so heavy. Maybe because she had just come to this conclusion, in the short time she was with her again- even though somewhere, deep in her aching chest and buried under her fear, she always knew she wanted her back- or maybe, it was just so hard to confess love to someone that was once yours.

Rainbow used to be hers and it was so embarrassing to ask for her back when she’s the one who let her go. She wasn’t even directly asking, but everyone knows, that with a confession comes a sliver of hope, and she could only pray that Rainbow didn’t hear her voice crack with desire for mutual feelings.

Rainbow was still watching her, muted and bittersweet, like she was experiencing the same grief Applejack had felt all year.

She watched her hot tears threaten to fall, caught glimpse of blonde hair shift with anxiety, noticed green eyes unfold with months of emotional suppression. Rainbow just watched her like a movie and maybe she was imagining what their life used to be like.

The silence didn’t last long. Rainbow wasn’t one to enjoy any sort of quiet, and in this moment, Applejack sure didn’t either.

“You know, it’s kinda funny.”

What.

Dash shifted in her seat. She leaned back enough for her hair to hit the headrest, like she had all the damn time in the world, and she let a sigh fall, slow and heavy.

It wasn’t a disappointed sigh. It wasn’t relieved. It wasn’t exhaustion, or gratefulness, or any sort of reassurance.

She cleared her throat like her life depended on it, and maybe, Applejack’s life did depend on her reply.

“Mhmm,” was all that sounded at first, and in her peripheral, Applejack watched her rub a hand over her forehead.

A quiet laugh made up of surprise came out raspily. Rainbow breathed again, taking her time like she’d never breathed before, and Applejack’s thinning patience was stretched to a new record.

“I was the one to ask you out,” Rainbow began, “and I was the one to kiss you first.”

She laughed.

“I think I even admitted I loved you first.”

Her words drew out, like the final scene of a movie, and her eyes trained past the window, longingly, as if someone else was waiting for her.

Applejack finally made herself look over to watch the words fall from her lips.

“But, then,” Dash continued, a hiccup of a breath interrupting her statement, “then, you were the one to break up with me, and now-”

She paused. Just long enough for Applejack’s heart to stop.

“Now, you’re the one to confess again.”

And Rainbow laughed. Again.

Not tauntingly. Not angrily, definitely not to make fun. It was light, almost happy, almost relieved- held back by the tangled hesitation of it all. Uncertainty flooded her tone, paired with just a little too much doubt.

Then, when Applejack really felt like revving the engine and running them into a tree, Rainbow looked to her.

Their eyes met, as abrupt as a car crash. Emotions waged a war in Applejack’s unsettled stomach. Her lashes fluttered like a programmed machine because she just couldn’t let her tears fall in front of someone she admired so much.

It stung to look at her, after admitting such a thing. Rainbow was so pretty and it really hurt.

Applejack still felt like this wasn’t real. This was just her recurring dream, she told herself when she drove here, this was the same evil nightmare where she’d meet Dash in the empty parking lot and kiss her like nothing bad ever happened.

That dream she had so many times, where she’d wake up next to her and the sun would be on her face, the window would still be open and it’d smell like summer and fresh cut grass, where they had never argued and where their friends would be waiting for them by the pool, a horrible dream where time never ran out and she never had to wake up.

Or the other frequent dream, where she’d kiss her goodbye and hold her for the last time, she’d wake up with marks on her arms from hugging a pillow and hair stuck to her neck from dried tears, then she’d drag herself to the bathroom to find Rainbow’s belongings she’d never returned, stare at herself in the mirror like a scrapped painting and realize she’s the only one to blame.

“And now, you leave me with the same choice,” Rainbow whispered like a candle blowing out, “and I’m stuck again.”

She shook her head and Applejack just couldn’t move.

“I can’t go through that again.”

Rainbow admitted it so painfully, yet nothing could truly be as painful as watching it. Selfish or not, Applejack knew she felt worse than Dash ever could, because at the end of the day, is the victim or the guilty the one who hurts the most?

“But, I miss you too,” she said, and she leaned over, just enough for Applejack to almost want to flinch away, “and I think… I think that missing you, overpowers the part of me that’s… that’s afraid.”

A pang of agonizing relief struck Applejack just above the heart.

“I miss you and I’d say you have no idea how much, but I think you do,” Rainbow muttered, so faintly as if no one else should ever hear, “even if it hurts, I really…”

She clicked her tongue. Her head shook again like she wanted to deny it.

“I really don’t care.”

And Applejack, tired and true, had absolutely no response.

She didn’t know what to do with that. Her mouth was too dry to swallow her shock and even if she could, she wouldn’t be able to digest the meaning.

Dash doesn’t care if it hurts, meaning she knows she’ll get hurt again? Or she knows she won’t?

“You don’t care?” Applejack repeated, voice teetering with disbelief.

Rainbow nodded this time. Her eyes were dark with thought, dipping away every few moments before they eventually rested between scattered freckles.

“I don’t care, because,” and she shrugged like it didn’t matter, “I know you wouldn’t do that to me again.”

The silence they used to avoid was loud. It droned on, seconds too long, filtering through the words between their teeth, and Applejack could only blink in the aftermath. One pressing question jumped to her throat.

“What if I do?”

Her returning sigh was heavy. Almost a laugh, almost a scoff, Rainbow seemed like she couldn’t decide.

“You won’t,” she promised. Her head tilted as she met her eyes again, and her smirk grew. “Look at you.”

She gestured to her, and Applejack really couldn’t understand what she meant. Unless she was talking about the hope in her eyes, which was probably evident- the same gleam Rainbow carried now, and Applejack realized she might as well have been looking in a mirror.

They blinked at each other like sleepy cats. Slow, tired, half-awake and lovingly. It was enough to make Applejack carsick, and the truck wasn’t even moving.

Her head swam. She didn’t know if Rainbow was playing this off or being truly honest about missing her too. Applejack did know, though, that you can miss someone without wanting them back.

She couldn’t help but glance away, retreating toward the window again. Looking at her was still too hard. This wasn’t real. Rainbow couldn’t possibly agree.

“After everythin’ I’ve said,” Applejack started to say before she could catch it, “about… about bein’ so scared, and how much I regret it,” she continued once it toppled out, “I hate to admit I still am.”

Rainbow shifted beside her. “You still regret it?”

“No,” she said quickly, “not at all. I don’t regret you.”

Rainbow’s shoulders sagged, just a touch. She must not’ve been ready to hear that.

“I meant,” Applejack went on, and her eyes closed for a moment to brace herself, “I’m still scared.”

Dash winced a little. Her eyebrows drew together swiftly.

“Of.. what your family has to say?”

“No.”

It was defiant. Hard and confident in her aching chest. “Not anymore.”

Rainbow’s face twisted in skepticism. Applejack took a breath bigger than her heart, heavy enough for her hat to fall down over her eyes. It hid her view as the words spilled out.

“I’m afraid of you. Hurtin’ you, again. I’m afraid of myself.”

Her face grew redder than a fever and she thanked whomever above that her hat shielded her eyes. She held her breath and that probably made it worse.

“As much as I wanna sit here an’ promise you it’d be different, I can’t. Even though I believe it, and I know it would be, I can’t make empty promi-”

“Psh.”

Rainbow’s breath cut her off. Applejack still couldn’t glance up.

A soft weight brushed over her head and it struck her by surprise. Rainbow reached over to adjust her hat, and the contact of her hand was detrimental.

The back of her hand grazed over the leather, like she lit a grenade with an affectionate flame, pushing it back enough for green eyes to come to light. Applejack let the rushing contact flee down her spine. It was just so familiar.

Their eyes met once again and Rainbow’s smile had returned.

“What did I just say?” she said, tilting her head as if her words were written beside her.

Then, her chin tipped down, stare locking like a crosshair.

“You won’t. You won’t hurt me.”

She said it so straightly. So certain, so sure of her words.

“You can’t, consciously, after all this. I know you. You don’t make the same mistake twice.”

And Applejack really wanted to cry.

She should’ve been the one trying to convince. She should’ve been begging her to believe she wouldn’t fuck up again and she should’ve been on her knees with that regret. And mentally, she was, but right now Rainbow was looking at her like she held the apology behind her own tongue, and it was just so twisted, Applejack almost thought this was all wrong.

She wondered if Rainbow had told herself this long ago. Maybe, she had gone into this conversation already knowing, maybe she already accepted that Applejack would apologize like this. Maybe she knew she wanted her back, this whole time. And telling by the melting hesitation in her cheeks, she must’ve known. She’s always known.

Dash was so serious but her small smile hadn’t fallen. A glimmer of the past remained, just another reminder it was the same her, a tidbit of hope that Applejack hadn’t lost everything. Rainbow’s eyes were so gentle and it was hard to believe they used to hold so much anger.

Applejack didn’t want to laugh it off, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Is this where we start over?”

“No,” the reply came instantly, as if expecting it, “we don’t need to start over.”

Rainbow leaned toward her, her elbow resting on the center console.

A panicked flame ignited in Applejack’s chest. “Are you sayin’ you just wanna go back to how it was?” she asked, high in her throat, eyes blowing wider by the second as Rainbow grew closer.

Dash pursed her lips, eyes falling downward for a beat or two.

“I don’t really know,” it came out quietly. “I do know one thing,” she added soon after, “that I wanna talk to you again. Is that okay, for now?”

Applejack could barely breathe, but she nodded.

That hair she used to know so well was so close to her, now. Those features she used to have memorized like the back of her hand were so clear, she had imagined them for so long and now Rainbow was right here, and it wasn’t a daydream anymore.

Rainbow looked up at her, just as soft as she had been this whole time. Before, it was soft but it was hesitant, and now- now, it was so familiar.

The idea of being strangers was becoming distant. Rainbow was just too recognizable to be a stranger, and Applejack knew that from the beginning of this conversation, even if it hadn’t felt like it. She knew, the night she sent that text, that seeing her again would set her back. She just didn’t think it’d end like this- end well, end good, if you can call this good- is it good? Is this a good choice?

She parted her lips a few times to speak but nothing came out. Rainbow didn’t seem to have anything left to say, either.

Silence covered them like a picnic blanket that held warm sunlight and it was comfortable, for the first time all evening. Easy, and homely, where it almost felt like Rainbow was part of her. 

A memory surfaced in Applejack’s blurred mind. Deja vu, or whatever it is when a memory evokes extreme nausea- something so intimate, so long ago, so far away that part of her wonders if it ever happened at all.

She remembers a night like this, cold and dry, sun below the horizon and stars behind the clouds, a night when Rainbow had shown up on her doorstep with messy hair and untied shoes. The night when feelings were spilled, when tears of panic fell as fast as words, when Applejack fell asleep with a warm feeling in her chest and an even warmer body in her arms, when everything was so scary and everything was so new and when Rainbow was so familiar.

Just like she is now. So fucking familiar and it was horrifying.

Earlier, Applejack thought all ideas of Rainbow had blurred together. Just another person that came and went, just another relationship that fell apart with a breeze too harsh. But now that she’s sitting next to her, now that those feelings have been shared again, she’ll admit, all her memories were never a blur.

Applejack can pick apart each and every time she was with her, each conversation, every little glance. Every walk in the school hallway, every time they laughed too hard they cried, every time her face flushed darker than it should’ve, every single damn time her heart rate nearly killed her. She remembers the night Rainbow confessed to her even better than she remembers the back of her fucking hand. She remembers how their tones shifted when they started dating and she remembers how much she had been holding herself back.

She remembers their first kiss and their last, and can’t forget every single one in between, every last hug, every last fingertip graze, every last strand of dyed hair that remained on her pillows. Every last text she sent, every last voicemail she left, every last moment when she walked away. Applejack remembers every single thing about her and she could never truly forget.

Rainbow held a distant gleam in her eye, now. She seemed to be remembering it too.

Applejack snapped herself out of her head, meeting dark eyes that held more patience than ever before.

The corner of her mouth curved up gently. She wanted to ask if she was remembering the night they got together too.

She didn’t ask, because Rainbow’s eyes opened a little wider, like a pressing question had lurched up her throat.

Applejack felt her eyebrows fall. She tugged her lip between her teeth.

“Yeah?”

Nothing had been asked but Applejack knew she wanted to say something.

Dash didn’t miss a beat.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Rainbow blinked, almost shocked it came out of her own mouth.

A pause followed. Hesitance held her breath, and it almost seemed like she’d go back on it, and then- then, she overloaded Applejack’s fried memory card.

“Like I used to?”

Jesus Christ. Applejack was so dizzy.

The wind blew against the truck. It rocked once to the side, like nature gave its blessing.

She could only blink at her, disbelief freezing her tense limbs. Rainbow smiled, must’ve known what this was doing to her, and she leaned closer, breath hitching once their heads nearly brushed.

Familiar fingers reached her face and it burned.

Applejack almost choked on it. It burned with nostalgia, her hair smelt like distant smoke. Her skin lit up under Rainbow’s touch and her mind just lapped with intimate flames.

She’s said it a hundred times and she’d say it a thousand more- it was so familiar, so, so sickeningly familiar, time on rewind like a ghost in its past hauntings yet it lacked the cold of emptiness. Rainbow was so warm. Applejack can’t believe, just to get over her, she almost convinced herself she had died.

It was a customary movement, trained routine in Rainbow’s limbs. She knew where to touch, she knew which lines of freckled cheeks were warmest. It was familiar to her, too.

Time had never passed, in a moment like this, how could anyone have messed up when the connection was still so strong after so many seasons. Forgiveness was a warm hug and Rainbow was the giver, making Applejack’s flushed skin crawl with relief, hope, excitement- even whiplash of familiarity, it still burned, like her fingertips burned off the dust that had framed her memories.

Rainbow’s hand found her face and then her neck, and she pulled herself closer, leaned far over the center console as if Applejack was lightyears away. She wasn’t, anymore. There would never be a gap between them like that again.

And when she found her lips, much to Applejack’s dismay, it was so easy.

Just like she left her.

Sweet, soft, slow, she was running out of adjectives, doesn’t matter because she couldn’t describe it well enough anyway. Maybe, it was the same feeling of summer mornings, sunlight on pavement, morning dew, crackling firewood. That’s what being with Rainbow felt like. That nostalgia, that homesickness.

That distant scent of childhood, that faint idea of innocence, the dissonant feeling after something bad that everything would end up okay. That was Rainbow. Rainbow was the physical proof, made up of warm hands and pretty lips that only had nice things to say, she was the proof that some things do work out. The living, breathing, walking proof that sometimes, things can be the way they were before.

Applejack didn’t think it was possible to go back in time. And technically she didn’t, but in her head, as her eyes closed to kiss someone so familiar, it was like she was teleported to a time when everything was so right in the world. Maybe, somewhere like her childhood bed, something she didn’t fit in or even own anymore, maybe she was still just a kid lying awake with a big day ahead, when she was still young, still clueless, still convinced that the worst thing that could happen was rain.

She was still that girl, just like Rainbow was still the girl she loved. Things change but people don’t. So much time had passed but almost none at all.

Rainbow’s perfume was so strong, now. The same damn scent she’d always worn and it nearly drowned her. It smelt like summer, it tasted like home.

There was nowhere Applejack could go where she wouldn’t be followed by it. The smell, the memory, the daydreams of her. All of it. Everything about Rainbow followed her, and she ignored it, for quite some time. She just couldn’t shake her from her trail and thank god she had failed.

Dash is here and she is always going to be- in the present, in her mind, in her memories- and Applejack just took a little too long to accept it.

Tender lips brought her back down to earth. She let her hand find dyed hair and it was the same feeling of relief when you find something you’ve been searching for.

A familiar hand on the back of her neck brought so much peace, it was so crazy to think that Applejack had tried to search for it somewhere else. It was even crazier to think that she was the one to walk away.

Never again, she told herself as she kissed her like she used to, never again will she turn her back on someone so important. Never again will she pretend this didn’t make her feel good, and never again will she let that dyed hair out of her grasp. 

That’s a whole lot of nevers for someone who used to never say never. People don’t change, right?

Rainbow’s hand slipped up into blonde hair. She tangled it between her fingers and Applejack just couldn’t believe she pushed away the memory of this. Never again would this only be a memory. Rainbow kissed her like it was the last time, like she was making up for what the last time should’ve been, but now, there never would be a last.

Applejack caught the scent of sharp hair dye, mixing with the perfume that lingered on her neck. The reminder of the past washed over her heavy heart. It wasn’t so heavy anymore.

Rainbow pulled away once the air grew overwhelmingly warm. Their foreheads still brushed, their smiles only grew.

A giggle slipped past her lips. Applejack could only return it- the sound of childhood filtered through the car, the same laughs they’ve always had.

“You’re so pretty, Jackie.”

Applejack didn’t want to cry anymore.

She kissed her again, eyelashes fluttering like neither of them wanted to close their eyes.

“I didn’t think you could get any prettier.”