Shifting the stack of schoolbooks in her arms, Applejack carefully peered over some loose papers to be certain she was not about to trip over heaven-knows-what. She was still lugging around her room-mate's homework for the day, having not found a chance to drop this particular load back off in their room. Not that she ever enjoyed going back there now, it was far too quiet and lonesome in a room built for two. It seemed, somehow, that some others shared a similar opinion.

“The school's far too quiet now,” she overheard someone mention, and she listened in. “Without that gobby bender around.”

“She was nothing if not entertaining,” another agreed, and a few giggles followed.

“Indeed, she always did know how to direct a professor off topic,” came another voice, and Applejack recognized that one.

Peeking over her shoulder at the group, she noticed Rarity standing near a few other swish girls at the back of the library. Previously, Rarity would sit near Applejack, as back when they were room-mates they would do their homework together once in a while, or Applejack would half-listen to Rarity rant on about the lecturer's articulacy or lack there of. Now though, Rarity would often sit near the back and gab with some other students who's skirts were hiked up just as improperly high.

Applejack had grown weary of carrying such a burdensome load each day, especially since she had heard nothing of the supposed impending return of her room-mate. But Applejack was diligent and dependable, and she would not give up hope or let Rainbow Dash down. As such, she turned one last time to reach the usual table where she and Rainbow Dash would often sit alone and pretend to ignore the insulting or critical remarks from their peers. She would not make it without incident, however.

“Ahh—sorry!” Applejack heard the call before she actually felt the books tumble out of her arms.

Catching most of them with her adequate speed and strength, Applejack shifted sharply to the left to see what had run into her. There, with an open book pressed to her chest and several others scattered around, sat Twilight Sparkle, glasses half-fallen off her face. Applejack immediately placed her books on the corner of the nearby table and set to helping Twilight gather her scattered belongings.

“Sorry there Twi, I musta not've seen you,” Applejack apologized as she knelt next to the girl and plucked the now partially bent or folded book pages and notebooks.

“No, no, it was my fault, I was reading instead of walking,” the straight-haired girl fixed her tilted glasses and helped Applejack collect and organize the fallen debris.

“You're usually readin' instead o' doin' somethin', ain't ya?” Applejack teased playfully, and Twilight blushed as she realized it to be true.

“Well, yes,” she murmured with a small smile.

Most everyone knew Twilight Sparkle, since she was the student council president as well as the Headmistress's personal assistant, or she seemed like it. She always got the highest marks in the class, and her high regard for rules and regulations were unparalleled. Therefore, she never had the most active social life, but she did have a few close friends.

“Twilight!” one of them spoke up, and Applejack recognized it to be Pinkie Pie, as that frizzy-headed girl made a point of trying to be friends with everyone, including said spectacle-adorning girl on the floor of the library. “Are you all right?”

“Yes Pinkie, worry not,” Twilight called back with a wave, and as she was busy gathering herself, Applejack found something particularly interesting in the scattered pile of literature and notes.

Twilight Sparkle was the kind of girl to take great care with all her stationary and binders, and as such it was a known fact that she always used black notebooks, each colour-coded by subject by a sticker placed perfectly along the top portion of the front cover. However, when she had a book that did not pertain to her curriculum studies, such as her personal journal, that book was organized or coded differently. And there, laying innocently among black categorized curl-bounds, was a bright red notebook.

Applejack was immediately drawn to it and its suspicious predisposition to reminding one of blood. Her fingers found it immediately, and the blonde had but an instant to read something of a subject title in perfect cursive scribed along the front cover: Conversion Therapy in Adolescence.

Before she could adequately understand what that entailed, Twilight had snatched the notebook out of Applejack's curious hands and held it close under folded arms. Her protective reaction to Applejack's interest did little to stave it, and Applejack only grew more enticed by the prospect.

“Uh, thanks, for your help,” Twilight hurriedly stammered out, grabbing the rest of her books and standing abruptly.

“Yea', no worries,” Applejack absently responded, watching the girl scurry off to her own table and sit down with Pinkie Pie.

Watching out of the corner of her eye, Applejack placed the rest of her books onto her table and slid into her seat. Something had definitely irked her about the little red notebook she had seen, and it was all that ravaged her mind at the moment. She knew that Twilight Sparkle was the Headmistress's most faithful student, and it gave her chills to read the title of a notebook that seemed so similar to what counselling Rainbow Dash might have been going through. Applejack wasn't particularly well-read on psychology, as new as the subject was, but she knew something about how religion often dealt with tenancies to supposedly sin. But instead of asking the girl about it, Applejack played this one carefully, merely listening from afar. She would not have to wait long.

“What's this?” Pinkie asked immediately, grabbing the red notebook out of Twilight's grasps and flipping through it.

“Pinkie! Give that back, it's dearly important!” Twilight Sparkle argued, trying desperately to get it back while remaining quiet in the library.

“It is? Oh, tell me! Tell me!” the frizzy-haired girl squeaked out as she bounced in her seat.

“It's a special assignment that Headmistress Celestia gave me,” she whispered in near inaudible hush, and Applejack strained to hear it correctly. “I'm not permitted to tell anyone.”

“A secret?” Pinkie Pie replied in a gasp, still flipping through the pages until she paused suddenly. Twilight sighed as she realized that Pinkie had figured it out, but still went about grabbing it out of her hands.

“Pinkie, you cannot speak a word of this, it is the utmost imperative this remains hush-hush.” Twilight murmured in a calm voice, glancing around for any eavesdroppers, and Applejack paid crucial attention to appearing as though she was studying.

“I don't know what all that means—but this is a big deal, Twi!” the girl quietly spoke back, excitement in her eyes. “I'm so glad you're helping her out like that, your fellow student, your could-be new-best-friend—she really needs the help you know—God save her! I tried to tell her to straighten out, told her how to be and all, but the silly gay wouldn't—”

Applejack's eyes widened as she heard the word she had been waiting for, and immediately connected Twilight's notes to Rainbow Dash's supposed counselling. That little red notebook, it suddenly seemed much heavier than it appeared. Steadying her breathing and desperately trying to hear their hushed conversation over her pounding heart, Applejack glanced briefly towards the pair at the other table.

“Cease your havering, Pinkie,” Twilight had stalled her, and put a finger to her lips to gesture for silence. “It's not a simple experiment, you know, this therapy is far more complex than simply straightening her out.”

“How do you do it, then?” she curiously wondered, and Twilight had to gesture for quiet one more time before Pinkie got the message to keep her voice down. “How do you do it?”

“We're still in the preliminary stages, but she's surely a resistant one, undoubtedly,” Twilight huffed a little laugh at the remark, and Applejack found it quite probably true. “She's shown little progress thusfar, but we're hopeful. Celestia is upping her dosage in all aspects. It's... just too bad, about the scars.”

Flinching at the word, Applejack wondered just what kind of therapy could possibly yield positive results while administering scars upon the subject. It made her furious just to overhear, and her fists tightened to imagine the poor girl's thin and youthful body all torn up for something so inconsequential. Still, she knew well when to hold her tongue and merely observe.

“That sounds scary,” Pinkie spoke Applejack's own thoughts, though her innocent child-like voice was hard to take seriously.

“Well of course, but to assure a full conversion we must not pause. The devil surely never rests or gives clemency, and neither must we. That's what Headmistress Celestia says.” Twilight recited her commands like they were the Gospel. “It's a difficult procedure, we must condition her to loath anything that once gave her joy in such sick aspects, and needless to say that Dash is very opposed to such things. It is... difficult, again, to... to just observe, to listen to all those protests, all those cries.”

“Cries?” Applejack whispered weakly as her heart broke, and she was certain she was not heard, as Pinkie Pie asked about the same word at the same time.

“Perhaps one day we will have less barbaric means, but for now,” Twilight wistfully imagined, but she was grounded by her faith in modern science. “We must patiently and devoutly seek results. It's perfectly safe, we are careful for that surely. Discomfort is simply a rather irrational tool to explain to a troubled patient.”

“But you're fixing her, right?” Pinkie Pie asked, her hopes rising up obliviously once more.

“If that's what matters.” Twilight answered, but her thoughtful voice seemed less than convinced. “Celestia believes it will keep the school in good standing to keep her quiet as well, we cannot have this institution being marred by her big mouth.”

“Is that where you've been off to every day?” came another question, and as Applejack shakily gathered her things, she faintly continued to listen.

“Yes, the nursing wing is quite far, so it's been something of a pain getting there,” the girl answered with a sigh, and Applejack wanted to snap at her about what pains she must have been putting her friend through, but she said nothing as she left.

Her trembling arms shook and shivered the books in her arms, but she managed to get out of the library before she collapsed and lost them all together. Her hand immediately slapped over her mouth as she muffled the pathetic weeps she tried to keep inside. Whatever she was feeling, surely it was of no consequence compared to how Rainbow Dash must have gone through, wherever she might have been. Applejack felt awful that she had allowed it to happen, that she had not questioned her Headmistress or asked to see her room-mate.

But now it seemed too late, Rainbow Dash had been forced to suffer for whatever reason they dubbed, and Applejack had been deceived into ignorance, her attention had been directed into gathering her assignments as if they mattered at all. As her rarely-escaping salted tears squeezed through her tightly entwined fingers, which hid her face from the desolate hallway, Applejack's faltering, uneven breaths came out in sobs.

Sure, Applejack had been counting the moments since Rainbow Dash had left, even as the days had dragged on and the nights grew cold, but now, all that time seemed deadly and poisonous. Such seemingly long hours much have felt like eternity to Rainbow Dash, and the mere week or two she had missed of class would resonate in the girl's mind forever more.

However, while Applejack had been eagerly counting the days, Rainbow Dash had lost all conception of time altogether. With the burlap sack pinned over the narrow window, light was never certain at all, and Rainbow could seldom be sure when she should sleep or eat or vomit. Her tired, bagged eyes stared up at the brick ceiling, something that seemed thick enough to keep the hands of God out of her room. By then, the worn leather straps had began to erode her tender, youthful skin, and the marks from the shocks seemed scalded against her. She could count them, had she the light to do so, and perhaps it would make some sense to call them a number, marked onto her skin. But she had neither the drive nor energy to look upon the might-be-scars that ran up her legs and arms, that made her ashamed of her once gorgeous body.

“Dash?” her name was called to her, and she responded with but a hoarse hum, not even glancing at the speaker. “I asked how you were feeling today. It's for the chart.”

Rainbow paused to consider such a thing, but finding no word that could adequately describe the response she had to such an ordeal, she simply muttered her usual sarcastic remark, “Peachy.”

“Brilliant.” the Headmistress repeated her own usual response, and scribbled something onto the chart as her assistant finished organizing the tools and slides once more. “You have shown little positive response, Dash.”

“I'm a stubborn one indeed,” the subject murmured with a hint of pride, a weak smirk sliding over her numb features.

“That's nothing to gloat about. It simply means we must use more extreme measures.” Headmistress Celestia replied with a straight face, a hardened woman as she was. “We cannot have you traipsing around this school as you are, sexually degrading my students.”

“Is that what I'm here for?” Rainbow asked with a falsely curious tone, but her question would be ignored.

“We are here to fix you, dear, and to make certain you never look upon your peers with those perversely devious eyes.” Celestia calmly explained, sitting the stretcher up once more in the same manner she always did: abruptly.

“I have my father's eyes,” the tired girl corrected.

“Clearly,” came a disinterested response, and the woman finished strapping Rainbow's head into place and began adding more shock markers, which peaked her patient's attention.

“That's more than usual,” the subject noticed as metal rounds were placed on the tops of her hands and feet. “Have I bothered you?”

“We're simply keeping the procedure moving along, it seems you need a little more motivation.” the Headmistress told her easily, going over to the cursed machine that Rainbow loathed and taking up a new tool or two.

“Or any at all,” she murmured back.

Curiously, Rainbow Dash watched her Headmistress wheel some other contraption over to her from beside the torturous machine. It fit well behind the stretcher, with armrests wide enough to hug it and come up under Rainbow's wrists. Cautiously, Rainbow lowered her still bound arms onto it and felt relieved as it did not hurt her to do so. The rests were wrapped in a kind of tensor tape, fabric or rubber perhaps, and Twilight Sparkle set to strapping her wrists and elbows to it. Strangely enough, Rainbow noticed some kind of handlebar just past the ends of those rests, which were separate entirely and made of some kind of metal. Rainbow's fingers traced the rounded bars and felt the cold metal. Celestia would move them closer to her though, adjusting the makeshift contraption until the bars were nestled into her palms, but not touching them.

“What's all this?” Rainbow finally spoke up, her narrowed eyes already suspicious.

“Something to deter you from touching, instead of merely thinking lustfully. It's still experimental, but we should see more results from it.” seemed like a simple enough response from Celestia, but Rainbow knew better than to believe her.

Two prong-like metal clips were added to the far ends of each bar, and Rainbow stared at them uneasily. As she traced the thick, rubber-lined red wires, she found them hooked right into the very machine that she was. A shiver crawled up her spine, and she instinctively recoiled from the bars, but she could get no further than perhaps an inch away, which still left the bars inside her hand's reach. She made a point of keeping her fingers outstretched to keep them away from the bars, and glared at her caretakers.

“You cannot be serious.” it did not sound like a question, but no one would respond even if it had been.

“Do be careful with the voltage, Twilight.” Headmistress Celestia warned, and she watched Twilight adjust a dial or two on the machine until it seemed right.

“Yes ma'am,” her student agreed.

By then, the lights had sparked out once more, and Rainbow could see but a sliver of moon or sunshine peeking dully from beyond the burlap curtain, which seemed dark enough to have been dusk or dawn. The projector came to life again, and it was shifted to either side as the slides were placed inside and it was made to face the usual, somewhat cracked wall. Rainbow hardly noticed her caretakers change the IV drip she was still affixed to, as the hole in her arm was numb and cold and swollen already.

The usual sickness had already begun to sink in, or perhaps that was the anticipation that made her feel ill. Either way, Rainbow shook her head and tried to remain focused. A quick glance to the bars at her fingertips made her uneasy, as she knew what evils the teeth-like clips could produce for her.

Again, the face of Jesus Christ was the first that came to her, and the shadows of his eyes seemed dark and judgemental. Rainbow's teeth ground beneath her dry, cracked lips, but she dared not speak his name. As a purely beautiful woman glowed before her, made up from the shadows and lights of a machine, Rainbow swallowed and tensed up for her punishment.

At first, it was just her usual shock, which was by no means growing easier to take. Her screams were somewhat weaker and less frantic though, and she had better control of them, as she hated giving them the satisfaction of hearing her pains. But as the treatment ran on, Rainbow grew increasingly concerned about the bars at her hands, which taunted her fingers for rest but still merely remained cold and unchanging. Again and again, though her anticipation warned her, her body was shaken to the core with electroshock.

Her gasping breath was louder than the slides changing, and she felt proud to have lasted through the whole thing without heaving her insides out. As they switched over, though, Rainbow saw Twilight fiddling with the dials again, and shivered in fear. Her fuzzy, disoriented mind wavered over her own position, and she saw her darkened, marked skin as if it did not belong to her at all.

“Dash, do try to stay awake,” the woman's voice was by no means lulling, and it served to keep her aware when she might falter. “We're going to try something a little more difficult. But I assure you, you will be mended in time.”

“Once I lose... all feeling... in my... my body, a-and soul.” Rainbow struggled with words and her eyes rolled in her head.

The machine made a clicking noise, and Rainbow's fingers twitched in anticipation. Each time she felt the sting of the shock, her whole body tensed up and tightened. She knew what would happen if they dared put malice to the bars at her palms. The slides spat light across the wall before her once more, and her red eyes dully looked upon the image, but she did not recognize this one as one she had seen before in her treatments. It was a church, but not just any church, it was the one which she had run to when she had sought help. It was her church.

“... W-What?” Rainbow murmured in confusion.

“Your treatment must yield immediate results,” a voice told her, and Rainbow wondered what she might have meant. “They must relate to your real life, Dash.”

“So put to death the sinful, earthly things lurking within you,” another recited, and perhaps that was Twilight's usual quotation. “Have nothing to do with sexual immorality, impurity, lust, and evil desires. Don’t be greedy, for a greedy person is an idolater, worshiping the things of this world. Because of these sins, the anger of God is coming. Colossians 3:5-6.”

“It seems... his anger is already upon me.” Rainbow believed, a frown making its home on her face.

“It's ready, Headmistress,” Twilight told her superior.

“After your old room-mate moved out, it didn't take long until you found another, a beautiful, young blonde.” Celestia began to explain, and Rainbow made a face as she tried to piece it together. “But that girl who came to your side, you have been coveting her. I heard you, when you shouted for help from our Lord. And he sent me to save you both.”

“What do you...? N-No, no,” Rainbow knew what was coming, and squirmed in the restraints until her Headmistress tightened the bind on her forehead to hold her steady.

“The devil grasps you in her sweet, sweet hands, my child,” Celestia told her student calmly, and with that, switched the slide once more. “But the embrace is toxic.”

Rainbow's eyes widened as she realized what they were forcing her to look upon, whose face they would punish her for adoring. It was that same old charming smile she loved, that same old spread of freckles and those bright and vibrant eyes, which even in black and white struck her still.

“Y-You can't... you can't take her away from me!” Rainbow Dash shouted until her voice broke, and she struggled valiantly against her inhumane bindings. She couldn't stand to lose the only thing she had left. “I won't let you! Not her! Not Applejack!”

“The choice is hardly yours.” were the last words before Rainbow's senses erupted.

She had never cried out so loudly in all her life, so loud it sounded like her whole body was screaming. All the markers across her skin flared up at once, and those on her hands caused that same tightening in her muscles to occur, forcing her trembling hands to clamp down on the scalding bars, which coursed with the same murderous electric current that burned her. There was nothing so evil as that which sought to turn her to the Lord.

Her mind went black for a moment, but it came back to see her beloved Applejack's face once more. Disoriented by the treatment, her twitching body reached out for the only familiarity she knew, and in that movement, touched the bars once more. Her instinct to reach out for the girl who was always so gentle with her caused her immense pain, and she was reduced to sitting still and merely staring, knowing she could never do more, never show more, never think more.

It felt like she could not even breathe, her chest so tight perhaps it crushed her silly, cursed heart. Finally, she slumped against the stretcher, her dangerous eyes flickering in the dim ambience of the face of her closest and most dear friend. She could not stand it, the audacity of her supposed healers, to take away the only thing she had left to care about. It was unforgivable, and as another picture of Applejack flashed before her stinging eyes, she damned the name of a God who would abandon her to the hellish mercy of his servants.

“You... she, won't... ca-an't... Applej-jack,” her words fell out without sequence, and her damaged body fought a losing battle against the stretcher. Another loud scream rang out, before the shock was even administered, and she shook the whole stretcher with her violent strikes. “You c-can't do this!”

Again, her palms squeezed on the bars as the treatment forced her to, and the tough skin of her fingers fell to the fiery shock. Even after the jolts across her body had subsided, she defiantly held firm to the charged bars, shaking them back and forth while trying to keep herself aware enough to prove her point. She kicked against the bindings and rocked the table, which served to get her caretakers' attentions.

“D-Do your wo-orst!” Rainbow Dash barked as her vision was polluted by spinning black dots and her muscles felt like jelly.

“Twilight, turn off the machine and hold her down,” Celestia commanded with a firm voice.

“Get away from me,” the subject growled as her senseless hands were freed from their pain and she gathered her scrambled thoughts. “Get away!”

“Here we are,” Celestia held up a small bottle with a needle pierced through the top and slowly filled it with whatever was inside.

Rainbow's eyes widened to see the light catch the liquid in the needle, and she found back more violently, so roughly she nearly broke one of the legs off the stretcher. Finally though, Celestia took the IV from her arm and instead squeezed a very different substance into her polluted veins. Immediately, her head went heavy and her body grew weary. For an instant it felt like she was about to fall asleep, but she held on groggily.

“You'll never... take Applejack... away,” Rainbow found herself repeating, shaking her head slowly back and forth as the strap on her head was removed and Twilight began taking off the metal rounds across her body.

“If you ever want to inherit the kingdom of God, you'll have to abandon that defiant attitude.” Headmistress Celestia told her with a stern tone, “Proverbs 28:13: People who conceal their sins will not prosper, but if they confess and turn from them, they will receive mercy.”

“... Then let me rot,” Rainbow hissed in a hoarse tone, her voice tired from the screaming.

“Twilight, we should be on our way, we'll get no more progress today.” Celestia told her student, and she turned on her heel to leave while Twilight finished jotting down some notes and putting the machine away.

“Aren't you... going to untie me?” the subject wondered in a small voice, though she tried to remain strong in the face of those strangers.

Celestia was quiet for a moment as Twilight waited to see what she would command. Glancing over her black clad shoulder, her habit fell around her like a dark shadow, and she ironically replied, “There is no rest for the wicked, Rainbow Dash.”

And the doors were pulled back into place, leaving the young deviant in isolation. The echoes of her caretakers' fading footsteps crawled slowly around the walls like trip-mine-weaving spiders, and Rainbow merely smirked and chuckled to herself. For a moment, amused by the situation, she truly pondered whether she was sane at all. But suddenly, any sense of comical amusement was lost. There was no one, no one to look upon her or criticize, except herself. And for what seemed like days, she did nothing but wait for that elusive rest she knew she would never receive.

Wicked, that was what they called her. Wicked for thinking, wicked for wanting, wicked for loving. Wicked for not obediently betraying herself, betraying her beloved Applejack when they asked her to feel sick when looking upon her face, to feel pain when she thought of a touch. Yes, perhaps she was wicked, for all that consumed her defiant, devious mind were still those wicked, wicked thoughts.

Her body ached in her bed, often a place for rest, often a place she felt safe, often so near to her most beloved companion. Stretched out and sprawled to the edges not by any tossing or turning, but by forced binds and gnawing commands, she was restrained. She felt so awfully exposed, so open and so vulnerable, at the clemency of judges and juries of peers who had always detested her disposition. And there they left her, like any other criminal: crucified, damned for her supposed sins.

In the lingering darkness, Rainbow Dash lay, hauntingly still and distracted. In the solitude of her darkest hour, she was faced with nothing but how truly alone she was. Her loud mouth and carefree nature were absent, her playful banter and active lifestyle, entirely obsolete. Now, she lay at the mercy of the universe, of those clad in darkness that she had never for an instant thought to trust. Her flickering eyelids could barely keep her awake, not that she could find a comfortable position to sleep in anyway. Besides, they had left her without a blanket, and being restrained in such a way made it impossible to hold herself or curl up for warmth. With her legs so forcibly spread and bound, she felt entirely on display for the absolute infinity of the world she had hidden herself from and pushed away.

The bindings ate at her raw, wrought wrists, but she still writhed against them, even as burned flesh turned crimson at the grasps and sleek red streams of blood slithered down her forearms. Her fingers were going cold, her usually bright skin turning grey or purple at the edges as she trembled along the stretcher. She felt so confined, so captured and helpless and bridled. And yet, her mind and body raced the same as ever. Despite the conditioning, the therapy, the force and coercion, a swirling desire swelled in Rainbow's chest, and she could not fight it with what little strength or diligence she still bore. It was all she had left, it was her honest nature.

Her weak body shifted against the bed, her heels and shoulder blades scraping at the plastic lining left underneath her for sanitary and sadistic reasons. With a disillusioned and detached head, she could hardly hope to imagine what daggers of the mind were true or false, what was dreamed or imagined or contrived. Through the haze of melatonin, famine and whatever slow-dripping IV they had her strapped to, Rainbow could feel her desires floating about around her like ghosts, groping at her body and soul with no heed to her protests or menial struggles.

Like a hot smoke, her dreams burned her laboured lungs and crawled over her body in streams of tarnished lusts. Through cracked, daringly peeking eyes, Rainbow watched her illusions encircle her. Over her poisoned and positioned body, the agency of which was robbed from her, the young girl eagerly and sickly observed her own illness at work. There, out of the imagined emptiness of silence and shadow, came the form of a girl she so greatly admired.

“Applejack?” her trembling, tired voice croaked out, the sound so pathetic it hardly escaped her mouth at all.

At her feet, or where she perceived them to be, the blonde girl stood, calmly ravishing Rainbow's constrained body with her fading eyes. As if sifting like silky sands through the air, the dream-like Applejack placed her hands on either side of the end of the bed, leaning over so far as to taunt and temp Rainbow with a glimpse of the ivory rounds clasping to her chest, pulling a groan from the bound girl's throat as if yanked out by a hard-tied rope.

The bed hardly made a creak as the shade of Applejack lifted herself onto it, placing her knees between Rainbow's stretched out feet and inching a tormentingly slow pace nearer. Seeing her so barely clearly, Rainbow Dash found that wanted nothing more than simply more. She tried desperately to summon the girl faster, to pull her with her charm and allure that was so broken and faint as she could hardly keep her eyes open, but it hardly strayed or stirred her company at all.

As Applejack's thin, strong and careful hands lined Rainbow's thighs, hips and stomach, she felt an intense stirring in the pit of her abdomen, or perhaps lower. She could almost experience the welcomed touch of the girl above her, and moved her tongue around incessantly even imagining tasting the blonde. Her hips shifted over the thin bed liner, though as hard as she tried, she could not satisfy herself grinding against the gorgeous freckled dream nestled perfectly between her legs.

Even though she was so bound and belittled as but an ill patient, Rainbow Dash felt nothing but powerful and masculine as Applejack crawled over her. With a mere daring desire more, she could make Applejack straddle her, press against her, kiss her, if her command or will were strong enough after she had been intoxicated by whatever drugs laced her veins. Her victim, the blonde companion she so adored, looked so devout and submissive, at the mercy of her lust. Rainbow's fists clenched up, her wounded palms burning once more to grope at the imagined girl against her body. The cold air hardly bothered her at all any more, now there was a heat at her thighs, and scalding fire in her heart, and saliva coating her thirsty tongue.

All that medication, that treatment to cure her cursed sickness, it seemed to do little but push her further, allow her to experience all the had dreamed of. Still, the devilish and sinful thoughts that the preachers of her God strove to erase, those were so very clear to her now, they were so comforting, they could not be done out of her. All those tests and suppressors, they drove her on, and in spite of them, she allowed herself to want again.

“Goddamn, Applejack,” her throat moaned for more, and her whole body tensed with a scalding yearning.

Rising against her restraints, Rainbow forced herself up a few laboured and painful inches nearer, considering it a worthwhile venture to chase a fantasy if only for a moment longer. Though she knew how awful it was to want such physical and selfish things from even an imagined Applejack, Rainbow wilfully pushed on, tainting and polluting the innocence of the girl of her dreams. She inched tormentingly nearer, enchanted beyond control by the savoury sweet red of Applejack's luscious lips.

And then she knew it. She really was sick. She really was this disgusting perversion of what a good girl should have been. But willingly, she plunged into the darkness of her heart head-first.

“Dash?” the voice sounded truer and louder than she could have ever imagined, and so much sweeter it was. Rainbow then noticed the realistically warm hand gently touching her chin and jaw, and as if she had been sleeping before, finally opened her eyes.

“Applejack?” Rainbow repeated her name wantingly, the raspy gruff in her voice still apparent.

“Oh, thank God you're al'right!” it was indeed Applejack's voice, and she sounded so relieved and happy that it shocked Rainbow Dash.

Suddenly everything became real again, and in the small, solitary room: Applejack had come for her. She was, however, just at Rainbow's bedside, rather than where Rainbow had imagined her to be, but she was far too stunned to say anything more than a grunt as the blonde hurriedly and roughly embraced her. She would have awkwardly hugged her back, but with her arms bound to the bed, she could only snuggle closer and subtly breathe in the familiar and soothing scent of her neck and hair.

“I was so worried,” Applejack murmured into Rainbow's shoulder, rubbing her cheek fondly against the girl as they held each other.

The guilt was nearly unbearable, Rainbow noticed right away. Having to keep her mouth shut about what had just been running through her mind and stealing her away. Besides that, now that Applejack really was there, all she wanted was for everything she had just imagined to have been true. And with Applejack pressed so firmly against her, her mind was firmly set on the way that their breasts felt when they pressed up against each other. So plush, so comfortable, so intimate and naughty. It almost made her light headed with joy.

“Now, we have t' get you outta here,” Applejack told her firmly, pulling away and staring right into her wide, ruby eyes.

“W-We do?” Rainbow tried for words, but at the less than excited response, Applejack gave her a questioning look. Rainbow noticed how she had sounded and shook it off, going on to reply, “Well, yeah, sorry, you're right but, just—how did you find me? How did you know?”

“I overheard Twilight talkin' 'bout it in the library, she said somthin' 'bout the nursing wing,” Applejack began as she set to undoing to restraints. “An' since y'had t' be somewhere that there ain't no one gonna hear you, I knew y'had t' be somewhere underground, which led me to the boilin' room.”

“You are a smart girl, Applejack.” Rainbow praised again, and a loving smile filled her features to the brim.

“An' you're a stupid punk!” Applejack snapped at her, and Rainbow's expression turned to shock and confusion. “Y'all went lookin' for this, for fixin'? What's wrong with you, ya crazy little—?!”

“Hey, pardon me, but I didn't know exactly what their conversion tosh really entailed!” Rainbow barked back as her legs were free and Applejack began on her arms. “What do you take me for, a masochist?”

“I thought y'all were fine with the way you were,” the blonde reminded her in a softer voice, and Rainbow's arm twitched as she for once felt a gentle touch on the rough bindings. “No one deserves this, honey. I like you the way y'are. I mean... we all got bad stuff in our hearts, it don't make us bad people.”

“I just...” Rainbow's voice was like a whimper, and she stopped to watch Applejack start on the last binding. “I didn't want to keep being the cause of hurt, especially to... well, to you.”

“How d'you think I feel now? Lookin' at you like this,” Applejack calmly asked, finally releasing her friend from her brutal confines and helping her sit up.

Their eyes met at once while Rainbow gingerly massaged her sore wrists, and she could feel her heart racing at the ends of each finger and against the torn up flesh. There was a simple understanding shared between them, a comfortable silence she had not experienced since the night she slept so near to the lovely blonde girl. With eyes swelling with tears, Rainbow collapsed roughly into Applejack's strong arms. Though she wanted to cry her heart out, weep until the pain stopped, call out curses and complaints, she merely rested.

In a fond murmur, Rainbow Dash admitted, “I'm so glad I have you.”

“Then we best get outta here, b'fore someone comes back to check on you,” Applejack said in a cool tone, smiling at the affection she had missed.

“I don't know if I can,” the young patient replied sadly, “I gave my consent already, signed my freedom away.”

“Y'all signed something?” she replied in a dreading voice.

“Yes, a form, it's possibly still at the foot of the bed,” her quiet tone responded into Applejack's shoulder, when the girl carefully moved out of the embrace and went over to it.

“Lemme see this. We could just take it with us, y'know,” Applejack spoke in a hum as she fumbled through the files on the clipboard.

“I imagine they made copies.” Rainbow grumbled to her lap, but an amused laugh from Applejack snapped her out of her sorrow. The blonde continued to chuckle as she pulled a piece of paper out of the clipboard and shook her head at it, prompting Rainbow to ask, “What?”

“This waiver, Dash,” Applejack held it out in front of her with a familiar, charming smile, and Rainbow had a hard time looking away from her towards what she should have been looking at. “You signed it al'right... but you signed it as Sappho.”

“Oh yeah, I did!” Rainbow gleefully agreed, grabbing it and staring at the little scribble she had marked it with. “I suppose my snide wit has saved me.”

“C'mon, honey,” Applejack took her by her still stinging hand and helped her off the bed. A painful yet welcomed tug ushered her on, and Applejack continued, “Let's get you home, mkay?”

Rainbow dumbly nodded, following obediently. Her heart fluttered as she realized where exactly her home was: in her dorm, with Applejack. The blonde girl still smiled at her, and those adorably unsymmetrical dimples were just as captivating as ever, though her tortured body ached and warned her to look away, to anticipate a shock or sickness. The only feeling that came, though, was the burning fires of love.

The way that Applejack grasped firmly onto her hand and guided her out of the darkness was vaguely reminiscent of the way that prolific musician Orpheus led Eurydice out of the grasps of underworld. This time, however, Orpheus would trust his woman to devoutly follow him to the very surface, and never falter a curious or doubtful glance backwards and lose her to eternal damnation.

It was as though she was under a spell, completely captivated by the inviting ruby of Applejack's smiling lips, visible even through the all-consuming darkness and the crushing feelings of rage. Truly, love was a stronger tone of red. No blood nor hate nor hell-fire could compete.

Author's Notes:

Well, looks like things are getting a little better. Now, this is going to be a rather short story, unlike most of my others, so anticipate perhaps only another chapter or two after this. Short, sweet (bitter, moreso), and to the point. But... what did you think of this chapter, anyway?