Much had happened to the farm and family that defined Sweet Apple Acres. Granny Smith's death, the inevitable result of an unexpected and ruthless illness, brought the once vibrant and prosperous farm to a grinding halt. Once the funeral service had ended, the funeral coach and the family returning to their places of origin; one would have assumed the three Apples would have pushed for a sense of normalcy, if anything to soften the blow to their morale.

The opposite was occurring. Applejack found herself drowning her sorrows in hard cider. At first, it served as an occasional opiate to keep her going on those nights emotions threatened to bog her down, only to quickly become nothing short of an addiction. Big Mac kept to himself and spent his days in the fields, making a futile, half-hearted effort to keep the orchards in order. Their weeklong inactivity and the expenses of the funeral had taken a serious toll on the family finances, putting the farm on the edge of bankruptcy. These two devolutions of character only served to worsen Apple Bloom’s depression. Her days consisted primarily of lying in her room, wishing for nothing more than to go see her friends; and to come to terms with the fact her grandmother was gone forever. Her brother’s reclusiveness, and her sister’s evasion only made it that much harder.

Be it the cider, the circumstance, or both, dark memories of a not-too distant past that had once been carefully suppressed began to surface in the older mare. Their bleak financial state, the strained family bond, the general projection of misery and melancholy was all too familiar to her. She remembered pained memories of watching her strong, dependable mother give her own life, to bring in another...those last words that ensured her debt to this filly.

...that took her mother from her.

Applejack had aspirations of being something beyond what her family lineage preferred. She had dreams of being a baker, a singer, a teacher; had she been asked prior to her mother’s passing, she would have gone one for miles about how she had her future all figured out.

That damn filly had stolen that too.

It wasn’t as if she could get rid of her once she got there; courtesy extended family expressing their grief and gratitude, word escaped like a wildfire both of the death, and the birth. The event romanticized; a premiere example of the ways of the universe and the continuum of life. While she wished to not stray from the words of her late mother; her beautiful, loving, selfless mother, she was always at odds with her facade that she maintained in her mind, constantly debating on how much longer she could treat this filly as anything beyond a murderous, selfish parasite who took away what she loved, and what she longed for.

Now Granny was gone. The farm was on the decline, and her happiness on the same course. Her life and its legacy seemingly anchored to this sinking ship by that weight that had always been on her shoulders; that stab in the back that would never go away.

Applejack was lit. Her posture, the opaque slur in her voice, among other things were a very clear indication of this. The sunk mare slushed her way up the stairs, and to the room which was occupied by that ungrateful filly. She had every intent to set the record straight, and tell her exactly how she felt.

Apple Bloom dreaded the sound of those hooves as they made their way upstairs. She had yet to be the victim of her sisters’ tirades, though she certainly knew of them, an unwitting spectator to Applejack shouting to nobody in particular, stumbling around; throwing things. She knew that her sister wasn’t of the right mind, yet, assumed it was just a temporary thing; Applejack was sad too, big ponies had their own ways of dealing with things like this. At the same time, she couldn’t help but wince at the opening of her door, and the sight and smell of her alcoholic sister present itself within hooves reach.

“The fuck ya think yer doing?” She slurred.

Applejack wasn’t giving room for a response, as she paced around the room. The volume of her voice fluctuating from loud, to shouting.

“Here ya are, sittin’ on yer ass, while your brother and I are out there workin’ our flanks off!”

Apple Bloom made a sound, trying to speak, but was shouted down.

“Ah ain’t finished ya ungrateful little shit.” The last word carrying a warbly emphasis. “Bustin’ our asses to feed a mouth we shouldn’t have to. It’d be nothin’ to take care of ourselves, to keep the business going, but no. Moma’s underground; we got a fuckin’ mouth to feed.”

The mare sat idly for a second, looking out the window at nothing in particular. Apple Bloom’s heart began to palpitate at an erratic pace. The words themselves, were not of principal concern, they certainly hurt; it was the demeanor and her presence that scared the filly. Against her internal insistence, she stayed put. It would all be over soon. It always was. The mare’s aimless pace continued.

“It’s always somethin’ with ya. Always something! Ya and yer stupid little friends always makin’ a fuckin’ mess, hootin’ and hollerin’; ya ain’t never listened to me when Ah try to steer ya right, ya ain’t never listened. Feels like ya don’t appreciate a damn thing we do fer ya, not a damn thing.”

The mare was now turned facing Apple Bloom, a cold, hollow look on her face. Her eyes were heavy, and wore the wear of misery and exhaustion. Had nopony known of her breath by the bottle, they could’ve sworn she had a shiner or two; maybe aged a decade or so.

This pause seemed long, Applejack kept her stare on the filly who avoided eye contact. She waited for her brother to come in and calm her down as he always did.

“Ah suppose yer gonna run away, ain’t ya?” The mare continued, a softer, yet more bitter voice. “Ah suppose yer gonna do what ya always do...act on yer own damn thinkin’ can’t never spare a thought for us, oh no, can’t never spare a thought for us. Yer gonna go burden somepony else with your bullshit. Ah just know it.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond, it seemed to her naive mind, that Applejack was hurt, that somehow, she had hurt her sister’s feelings. For this, despite the ambiguity of the offense, made her feel genuinely guilty.

“Applejack...if Ah hurt yer feelin’s, Ah’m really sorry.” Apple Bloom’s voice shook slightly, “Ah didn’t mean to hur--”

“Sorry.” Applejack repeated. A cold, monotone voice. “Yer sorry.”

The filly, unaware of the rhetorical nature, nodded in reply.

The mare snorted, as if she were finding something humorous in all of this. A wheezy snicker escaped her mouth as her look grew even more defined by the anger building up, escaping its long suppression.

“If ya was sorry...If ya was sorry, ya’da never been born.”

These words were new, these words were precise, and after initially catching her off guard; they pierced the filly’s heart with precision unparallelled by the worst of the mare’s banter.

“Ah was supposed to be somepony...Ah was supposed ta do great things fer me, fer Big Mac, for granny, for momma...Ah was gonna make her proud of me…”

Applejack inched ever so closer to the filly who was now trembling in fear.

“..just couldn’t let me have that, could ya? Couldn’t stand the thought Ah could be somepony!”

Apple Bloom scrambled for something to say, “Applejack, what are ya talkin’ about? Ah didn’t do anythi--”

“Shut yer damn mouth!” Appelejack boomed.

Apple Bloom nearly fell backwards as she was startled and terrified by her sister who was now breathing heavy, the near-nauseating smell of the hard cider overpowered her senses.

“All ya do is take, take, take, ya take everything!” Applejack was halfway between hysterical and livid, “Ah’m tired of it!” With the stamp of a hoof that rattled the floor, the filly nearby, she stomped out the room, muttering profanity as she went back downstairs, likely to further drench her emotions in the juices that brought them about.

In the time she had to heself, Apple Bloom made a decision she never thought in her wildest dreams she would have to consider. It was clear Applejack didn’t want her, and that, as her sister said, she was a burden. She didn’t want to burden her sister or brother; and she very much missed Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle among many others. It had been close to a month since she had seen them last.

She was going to leave for awhile. As much as it pained her, whatever was wrong with her sister wasn’t going to get any better--her brother, while not abusive or aggressive, seemed lost and aimless; this week had been nothing but hardship and heartache. Maybe some time away would let things cool down. She had her saddlebag packed with her blanket, toys, and her bow. In her mind this was a temporary leave, she saw no need to pack anything beyond what she deemed necessities. Her stream of thoughts that resulted from that unwelcome altercation earlier was interrupted by the sound of a slamming door, and muffled hollering. Apple Bloom could discern that Big Mac was the target this time, and more importantly, they were in the family room; well enough away to where she could make her way out with haste.

Slowly making her way down the stairs into the foyer, being certain to glance between the railing to ensure her intoxicated sister wasn’t within range of interfering with her escape, she looked towards the only source of light amongst the night outside, and the darkness of the foyer and kitchen. She sat idly to listen to the caustic words her sister was no doubt spouting. Words of hate, misplaced blame, and nonsensical outrage.

Certain she was safe, she lifted her hoof to push open the door, pulling it open and making the motion to place her right hoof onto the porch.

“And just where the hell d’ya think yer goin’?” Applejack hissed. Apple Bloom suddenly found herself slammed onto the floor, the sound of the door shutting with equal force sending a chill down her spine, The smell of cider once again consumed her senses as her sister once again looked upon her with nothing short of disgust.

Applejack grabbed the filly up by her mane with her teeth and launched her into the kitchen table and all of the glassware on it, She didn't have much time to react as she was then yanked by the mane again and tossed into a barren side of the foyer, slamming hard into the old, unfinished wood floor. Just as she came to, loud, galloping hooves came behind her and bucked her, she then was in transit from the middle of the room into the staircase, good for her she stuck it flank-first, head first and she likely would have been done for. Her vision was blurred she could see blood streaming down her face, likely from her forehead where she had just been bucked by her sister's renowned, powerful hooves, there was no point in crying now, do or die.

She opted for the former.

Apple Bloom made a mad dash for the kitchen, finding a fork, she hurled it madly as Applejack charged, it hit with accuracy, straight into Applejack's muzzle, causing her to stumble back slightly. The chase continued quickly though as Apple Bloom hopped onto the counter and galloped to the other side of the room, Applejack, blinded by rage, topped the counter and kept right behind her, but unlike Apple Bloom who had to leap a sink faucet, evade dishware, and other things, Applejack simply smashed through them. The raging mare also managed to bust through the rickety old wall between the kitchen and the foyer as the filly scampered unknowingly into a corner. She was trapped, her sister menacingly inching closer,

“Shouldn't a done that, Yer a dead fucker now.”

As Applejack inched closer, ready to destroy her own sister, she was met with a hoof to the face, and a respectable one at that, a strong tug on her mane followed and she was on the ground, Apple Bloom wasn't done yet, the filly, using all the strength she could muster, sent a chair at reasonable speed into Applejack's face as the mare attempted to get up. Applejack stumbled and tripped backwards, stumbling into a grandfather clock that was recently placed near Granny's chair. As Applejack once again galloped towards her sister, she found herself lassoed around the forehooves—tightly, she plopped to the ground struggling violently to get to her back hooves, no use, the filly had the skill, and time to hogtie those as well.

Apple Bloom hopped onto Applejack's stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and was now looking down at her sister who had seemed to give up.

The victorious filly found it hard to compose herself, struggling to find the words to say.

“Ah don’t wanna hurt ya Applejack, honest, Ah love ya, sis...”

She choked up some but she knew she had to continue, she was the big pony now and she had to teach her sister a lesson.

“This isn’t what momma woulda wanted, this isn’t what Granny woulda wanted. We’re supposed ta support each other, we’re supposed ta keep their spirit of love and laughter alive, not turn into a...a...heartless monster!”

She threw up in her mouth, all the fear, the physical demands all catching up with her now as her emotions were in full swing, “Ah’m not gonna let ya hurt me no more, Applejack…”

“Fine Apple Bloom” A defeated Applejack hissed, “Then git. Ah ain’t ever wanna see ya again ya understand me? Was a big mistake letting momma bring such a worthless piece a shit into the world. We all would’ve been just fine without y--”

“ENOUGH!” A booming voice emerged from the room behind them. Big Mac stood in the doorway, a look of shame and disappointment apparent. Without another word, he nodded to Apple Bloom, who hopped off of her defeated sister. She looked at her brother with pleading eyes, hoping that maybe he could change the course of this horrible reality that played like a nightmare.

“Go, Apple Bloom. Go, and never come back.” The stallion commanded her in a firm, but soft tone.

“Big Mac, Ah don’t want to...can’t ya just talk some sense into her?”

“Ah’m afraid not, sis...you ain’t safe here. Ya need to find ponies who don’t ‘member how ya came into this world, who’ll love ya no matter what. It ain’t us, and it ain’t here.”

“Ya said Ah was your precious little sister...that our family bond was stronger than anythin’...ya lied to me?”

The same brother who watched as she was nearly beaten within an inch of her life...

Big Mac’s gaze towards the floor, and non-answer was more than enough for the filly to get a knot in her stomach. She turned around, and opened the door, looking one last time to her sister who had since passed out, and her brother who wore a look of shame. She closed the door behind her, and trotted towards town bearing a heavy heart.

Now that she was free, now that she was safe, the weight and toll of her emotions and wounds came into focus. She was in serious pain, she could do nothing to quell her grieving. She wanted so much for this to be a nightmare, for this all to be one sick, inexcusable joke; she knew in her hardest of hearts it was not. The anguish this caused her could not be measured or put into words.

She made her way towards Carousel Boutique, her heart a mess, and her spirit in shambles.

The physical impact of her attack wasn’t so much what defined her hollow mood, it was by and large, the emotional scarring which proved to be the most decisive. Applejack, her big sister, idol; the very embodiment of honesty and familial mannerisms, disowned her, disavowed her, hated her. Her brother’s stance toward her seems slightly ambiguous, but the very fact that it was also added to the trauma that the filly’s conscience faced as she slowed her gallop to a trot.

Apple Bloom could feel some throbbing, some pain in certain places where the brute force of her sister was decisively focused. At this point though, most of her injuries were more of a weight than a worry; serving primarily to remind her that any course other than heeding the cold words of her brother was the best thing she could have done. The filly was very much teary-eyed, sniffling every now and then as she developed some congestion.

Her knocking on the door at first seemed to be ignored. No indication that anypony inside the house could hear, or cared to answer. A light did go on briefly. only to extinguish again. Soon, the door opened to reveal Scootaloo.

“Apple Bloom?” The pegasus filly yawned, her face then turning to a look of pure horror at the sight that was before her.

Whatever hope Rarity had of having an easy week following her incident with Scootaloo was all but demolished by the wave of panic and fear at the sound of Scootaloo screaming for her, and the sight she was greeted with upon descending the stairs.

“Wh--whar on Earth…” The mare at first seemed paralyzed, then quickly sprang into action, scooping up the battered filly, and rushing her to the washroom where she began bandaging and tending to the filly who had since succumbed to tears again.

Scootaloo sat in the doorway to the washroom, watching her friend be cared for. Her idle silence was overruled by her immediate concern. Apple Bloom had been a no-show for several weeks, and now emerged, battered and bruised.

“What happened, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo asked meekly, taking a few steps into the washroom before seeing a white hoof direct her otherwise.

“Applejack and Big Mac don’t want me anymore.” Apple Bloom winced as Rarity continued treating her various wounds. “They blamed me for killing momma, and said they hated me. Then, she tried ta beat me…” Recollection of the incident caused her to tremor, the fear coming back.

Rarity found herself incapable of a response, let alone any form of consolement for Apple Bloom. The very thought one of her dearest friends was capable of committing such a horrible act, against her own sister no less; rendered her speechless. She did though, know somepony she needed to talk to to get Apple Bloom help.

“Scootaloo, I need you to do me a favor.” Rarity turned her attention to the pegasus as Apple Bloom tried relaxing in the bath. “I need you to get Twilight for me.”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked, fearful to leave her friend alone.

“I didn’t ask you, Scootaloo.” Rarity was in no place to argue with the filly. “I’m telling you. Go get her this instant!”

With this, Scootaloo made her way out of the boutique, and into the dark streets of Ponyville which. had this been en route to a place she knew well, along a route she rehearsed; would’ve been trivial. Scootaloo however, was unfamiliar when it came to the location of Twilights’ home. The usually confident filly found herself intimidated by the task, heightened only by the urgency of her errand. Making her way past houses, shops, and eventually, the town hall, it appeared that the treehouse was much father than she thought. With a sigh, she continued through the opposite end of town.

Apple Bloom feeling somewhat at ease, followed Rarity downstairs after her bath. She hadn’t said much outside of polite forms since Scootaloo had left; opting to nod in response to questions, which Rarity kept to a minimum. She could hear Rarity wonder aloud about whether or not asking Scootaloo to inform her friend of this situation was the best course of action as she prepared hot chocolate for the the two fillies, and tea for herself, and her prospective guest. After a few moments, Rarity, along with four steaming beverages levitating above her, escorted Apple Bloom to the parlor room where two sofas sat on either side.

As she began to relax a little on a couch she sat on, Apple Bloom let curiosity slip.

“What are we in here for?”

“I figured the drawing would be more appropriate for...discussing things.”

“Drawing?” Apple Bloom asked, checking around to see if any art supplies were present.

“In other words, a parlor room, dear.” Rarity explained. “It’s meant to be a place for ponies to share their private thoughts and feelings.”

“Oh.” Apple Bloom said as she turned her attention to her drink.

“She should have been here by now…” Rarity said to herself, “what in Equestria is that filly doing?”

As if to answer, the door to the foyer opened, and the sound of two sets of trotting hooves soon followed by Twilight who wore a look of concern, and Scootaloo who looked somewhat tired.

The mares had been talking for a good while now, with the two fillies sharing a small sofa. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both asleep at this point; with Scootaloo serving as the cream filly’s pillow.

“So, until we can figure out a permanent home for her, I think we both agree she would be safest with Spike and I.” Twilight concluded, shooting a concerned glance to the sleeping filly in question. The sight of her snuggled with her best friend, smattered with the scars of a broken home was bittersweet.

“You really think...she would be so pursuant?” Rarity asked, being careful to not name the assailant so as not to risk upsetting its victim.

“We see what she is capable of.” Twilight hung her head, “Even if the chance is small, we can’t take that risk…” the lavender unicorn took another sip of tea which Rarity had prepared for the two of them, whilst taking a look at the brilliant full moon that lorded over the starry sky.

“You already have enough on your plate as it is anyway,” she continued. “The last thing you need is two fillies under your care, that isn’t right.”

Rarity turned to look at Scootaloo, recalling the plight of the pegasus, and the emotional weight she had. Apple Bloom was a different case; it was almost like comparing apples to oranges, save for the unifying theme of feeling unwanted and unworthy of your aspirations and accomplishments.

“Never would I have assumed she would be capable of doing such a thing...that they could say such things to her…” Rarity felt a lump in her throat as the terrible account of the filly with the bow evoked nothing but raw, unfettered sympathy.

“Emotional trauma alone can make ponies do things they would never in their right mind even consider in the worst of their wishes; add alcohol and it becomes even more volatile.” Twilight explained. “I figured something was up, the way they went into reclusion like that…”

“I thought about checking on them…” Rarity reflected, “Had I known that this was happening…”

“There’s no point in blaming yourself, Rarity. None of us could’ve imagined them doing something like this. All we can do for her...is find her a place where they will love and care for her. Be it here in Ponyville, or elsewhere. She has plenty of extended family.”

“How do we know they aren’t of the same demeanor?” Rarity questioned. “...and why would anywhere but Ponyville be up for consideration? Her friends are here; the community she’s known her whole life. We need to take every step we can to ensure she stays as close to Sweetie and Scootaloo as possible.”

Twilight nodded, acknowledging she herself was getting very tired. Tomorrow was going to be a challenging day at best, and she and her derelict would need all the sleep they could get. Not to mention Rarity also was looking worn.

“I think we’ll get going.” Twilight yawned, a purple aura surrounding the cream-colored filly, and levitating her onto Twilight’s back. The two mares said their goodbyes, with Twilight trotting towards her home. Rarity watched for a few moments outside her door, shutting it behind her after her friend was out of sight.

She looked over towards Scootaloo, who was undisturbed and sleeping soundly; concluding that she was likely fine to sleep there for the remainder of the night. With this in mind, the unicorn made her way to her own bedroom, assuring herself that now she would get some unimpeded shut-eye.