The sun was going down.
But that wasn't the reason for Applejack's agony.
Th-Thwack! She flung her lower limbs at another tree trunk—nearly missing.
Only a smattering of apples fell into the basket.
Wheezing, Applejack lunged forward and leaned against the tree. Her lungs ached and her knees throbbed even harder. The teenager's single ponytail hung like a dead snake over her shoulders as she lingered there... attempting to catch her breath.
The pony gulped. She looked up the hill, squinting in the gathering darkness.
Hundreds upon hundreds of trees stood before her—all of them glistening with fruit under the last gasp of daylight.
The freckled teenager bit her lip. She turned and gazed weakly towards the west.
The Apple Family farmhouse stood on the hilltop, forming shadows before the burning horizon. Already, Applejack could see tiny lights peeking out from the upstairs window. No doubt Granny Smith was putting little Apple Bloom to bed.
To bed...
A tender breath purred out of Applejack's lips. She imagined the cool waters of a comforting bath... or the blissful tug of velvety blankets wrapped snugly over a soft bed.
Her muscles ached and she smelled of sweat and filth all over.
The mare's nostrils flared... and a frown adorned her muzzle.
Clenching her teeth, Applejack abandoned the trees. She trotted west... but not towards the farmhouse.
Applejack struck a match held between clenched teeth. She winced from the tiny flame's heat against her lips, but nevertheless managed to light the wick of a kerosene lamp. Leaning back, she spat the match onto the ground and stamped it out with her bruised hoof. Then—with careful motions—she lifted the lamp up and onto a metal holster set within the corner of a half-empty wagon. Three other lanterns flickered from the other corners of the vehicle, and a dim halo of light formed around it. It was enough illumination to work with—or so Applejack told herself.
Going on eight solid hours without rest, Applejack drew the wagon closer to the trees. Crickets began their nightlong song around her. Hooting owls and the distant howls of timberwolves filled the rest of the night. Applejack trembled slightly, but nevertheless kept her teenage eyes forward.
Approaching the first of many lines of trees, the mare swung her lower body—
THWACK!
...and resumed her diligent work on the orchards.
It was about two hours later that the unthinkable happened.
CRACK!
The noise of the wood snapping startled Applejack more than anything. She spun around and gasped.
The front right wheel of the lantern-lit wagon shattered completely. The rest of the vehicle teetered, and a lamp or two nearly fell to the dry grass below.
Applejack rushed forward—steadying the vehicle and ensuring that a blaze didn't start. Catching her breath, the sweaty mare leaned down to examined the damage. The wheel must have gotten caught in a gopher hole—the mare assumed—and the resulting shift in weight led to the inevitable catastrophe.
The mare exhaled heavily. She turned and looked behind her shoulder. Beyond the penumbra of the lamp's light, she could scarcely see the rest of the trees... but she still knew that all of them needed to be bucked.
With a prolonged groan, the mare stopped what she was doing, turned towards the barn, and began a long and mind-numbing trot.
Th-Thump!
Applejack dropped a spare wagon-wheel to the ground. She couldn't recall precisely when it was fashioned together by the local Ponyville carpenter. All she knew was that Pa was a resourceful stallion who prepared for anything and everything, and now she was about to reap the benefits of his forward thinking.
Or so she hoped...
The hard part now was getting the wagon lifted so that she could attach the replacement wheel. This would have been a lot easier with an extra hoof to assist her... but Applejack was no beggar.
First, she removed every single basket of fruit—a task that took nearly half-an-hour. Next, she grabbed several two-by-fours and a mound of mulch. Positioning the mulch beneath the right side of the wagon, she utilized it and the two-by-fours as a primitive lever mechanism. It took all her feeble strength... but the teenager was eventually able to tip the wagon up so that its front right side was raised high enough to work with.
"Rrnnnngh... mrnnnngh... guhhh!"
Sweating and heaving, Applejack pressed a shorter plank between the wagon and the soil, locking it in place. Under the starry night sky, she then set to work in removing the old wheel and sliding in the new one. This required ratcheting and unratcheting numerous nuts and bolts—a mechanical process that the mare was none-too-familiar with. So she had to learn on the spot... which required—to her frustration—more than two hours of frustration and multiple wasted trips back and forth to the barn for previously-inconceivable tools.
At last, the mare was sliding the newer wheel onto the wagon. However, it was resisting her. Applejack pondered if she needed to add more grease in order to make it fit in place, but the night had stretched on long enough and she was losing valuable time. So, with stubborn might, she pushed and shoved against the wheel. At last—with a swift jolt—it shoved neatly into place.
The problem was—Applejack's grip slipped, and her front left forelimb scraaaaaaaped against the lower chassis of the wagon. The air instantly smelled of blood, but Applejack could hardly notice through the blinding-flash of pain.
"Aaaaaaaaugh!" The teenager shrieked then fell back on her haunches. She rolled over into a fetal position, clutching her fetlock as hot streams of blood trickled loose. "Ssnkkkkt-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!" The mare's eyes clenched shut as she gnashed her teeth. Her muscles quivered as wave after wave of pain rolled through her tiny body. "Mrmmmmfghh—aaaaghhh! Mmmmm-Mamaaaaa... Mamaaaa..."
It took a minute or two for the true torture of that exclamation to set in. Applejack silenced it by silencing herself. So she sat there in a slump, waiting for the numbness to take over.
It never did.
Eventually, she sat up, blinking away the tears. She gazed through the misty amber light of the lanterns, examining her wounded fetlock. Sniffling.
The cut was deep... but she had had worse. Or so she told herself.
Sighing, the mare fought the shudders in her lungs and limped towards the barn.
"Mrnnngh..."
Applejack's limb stung like it was on fire. The ointment was doing its job. Beside her—scattered across a lamp-lit table—a series of bloodied needles and suture strings lay in a scattered mess. Using her teeth, the mare tightly bundled a bandage around her injured limb.
Then, taking a brave breath, she stood up—testing her weight on her patched wound.
It hurt to stand.
So... she walked.
Taking a swig of water, she weathered a heavy breath and shuffled out—wincing—to rejoin the wagon, tighten the new wheel in place, and resume bucking the apples off trees.
All the while, a cold sun rose in the east.
It was soon morning.
Heavy
Don't you want to just hug little Applejack?
The depression train needs to stop now
7672407
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It never stops.
It didn't stop for the Dash half of Appledashery, it sure ain't gonna stop for the Apple half.
New passengers have to jump on board from the station.
So, get something from the dining car, relax, have a nice trip, because things can't be any better, and they can't be any worse, that's the way things are, so you better get used to it.
Cause there ain't no stoppin' this train either.
Everytime I read one of these of AJ having to do all this BY HERSELF, the more that I want to go to where Big Mac is and POUND SOME SENSE INTO HIS THICK SKULL!!!
His little sister is doing all this work, and HE'S sitting on his ass trying to put a rusty plow back together!
Okay, I know. I get that he's grieving for their lost parents, but at least AJ'S doing her best to honor the family's obligations to Filthy Rich.
And nearly KILLING herself to DO it!
He needs to get his sorry head out of his useless ass and go help his sister BEFORE they end up burying ANOTHER Apple!
On that WORKED herself to death while HE sat in his ass!
No one questions the why of not asking Filthy Rich for more time?
7672894
I imagine the apples can't be so easily persuaded to stay fresh.
This is just terrible. I mean, I know it all works out not so bad but...
OK skirts, we're all suitably depressed. I think it's time for the chapter where things look like they're turning upwards, only to be crushed in the one after that.
Yaaaaaaaaayyy. Depression. My old friend. How I didn't miss you, you old scumbag. Let's see how long the trauma train travels for, eh? And let's hope AJ (and, of course, Dashie Dearest) gets off on the next stop.
"It'll be nice to focus on a different pony for once," I thought. "We'll finally read about something other than self-torture."
This is just as painful goddammit.
7673034 nature does not have such hard deadlines. Maybe 30% of the produce would rot if they took an extra week. And there's an entire village mourning. They can come together to clean up winter in one day but not to do better than a teenage mare in 4 days? Nah. I'm calling it now, Applejack can't ask for help cause that's her demon.
Jeeeeeezus....
As horrible as this is so far, I feel like the pain train is just getting started...
Hello darkness my old friend
Granny... Big Mac... You're both horrible ponies and you should feel bad for what you're driving Applejack to.
There's no way in hell that she's gonna have that harvest ready in time. But props to AJ for trying. Now to wait until she nearly kills herself working and someone finds her and stops her.
Oh, Applejack, most dependable of ponies, how came you so to be?
Through pain and sweat and toil long, to strength you journey, neither clear in sight nor free.
So in this story's timeline, have AJ and Rainbow met yet? Cuz if so, its probably Dash that stops Applejack from working herself to death.
Oh...
No wonder Applejack is the one who runs the farm. She's going to friggin' deserve it after this.
7674682 Nope, there was a bit in Vol 1 that detailed how they met, and it was Dash crashing into the farm on her first day of weather patrol after moving to town.
So they were both adults.
7675012 Oh, Okay.
I thought Rainbow flunked out of flight camp and took a job as a weather pony right out school as a teenager or something. You should write the Appledashery wiki haha.
Choo choo! Pain train to Ouchville. Applejack will be feeling that in the morning. And probably for a few days after that, even.
Still, grief works in mysterious ways... that said, working herself to death won't help the situation. She's being stubborn, as always.
Poor, poor Applejack.
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Somepony needs a hug. I can't be the only one cuddling an AJ plush while reading this.
Entering: Bandages
Celestia damn it, filly. Go the buck to sleep.
At this point I want Applejack and Rainbow to get into an argument about who has the darker past and try to out-angst each other, but not really because both their childhoods were genuinely sad.
Can they please cuddle now?