John Honeycrisp Apple

by Robo Bro

First published 20th of December, 2015

The human farmer, John Apple, has been injured. With no family to inherit, he is set to lose his farm. Unable to cope, he seeks to end it all. Much to his confusion, he wakes up as a pony and surrounded by talking ponies who are calling him "father".

John Apple, aging human farmer, has recently been injured in an accident by one of his horses. The doctors say he'll be unable to take care of his farm anymore due to considerable chronic back pain he will suffer for the rest of his years.

Farming had been his passion all his life, and had always been used to distract from the loneliness he felt from never having taken a wife, or raising children. Now faced with the prospect of losing his farm, having no options for meaningful employment, and the loneliness he can no longer distract himself from, he decides to bring an end to it all.

But what's this? He's still alive? Why did he wake up as a horse? How are these other horses able to talk? Why do these Apple horses keep calling him their father? And, perhaps most importantly, after finding himself with the family he had always wanted, does he dare tell them the truth?

Chapter 1

“It ain’t yer fault, I know ya didn’t mean to hurt me big guy. Shhhh.”

John Apple rubbed a horse’s neck soothingly with his large hand, trying to calm the anxious beast. He was a big man, downright huge even, but he was dwarfed by the equine he stood beside.

“I don’t blame ya, and ya shouldn’t blame yerself either. It was an accident. Coulda happened to anybody, Mack.”

The horse in question let out a soft whinny at his owner’s hushed tones and physical affection, leaning his head into the hand that was stroking him. One of the other horses in the stable walked up to the two and nudged the man on the shoulder, enticing a slight chuckle.

“Jealous, Jackie?” John gave the mare an affectionate scratch behind her ears. “Just a moment, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”

John bent over to reach into a bag he had brought into the stable with him and a twinge of pain in his back caused him to wince. He ignored it as best he could and brought out an apple. He dragged a pocket knife out of his pants and cut it in half then handed each half to the two eager horses.

“I’m gonna miss you guys, thanks for always being there for me. Be good to your new owner for me, will ya? Jacobs is a little slow upstairs, but he’s a good guy. He’ll take care of ya.” A few tears streamed down the aging man’s face. He wasn’t that old, truth be told, but his hair had turned mostly grey by now with only a spattering of the brown he had in his youth here and there and his face was lined with the beginnings of wrinkles. No, he wasn’t quite old, but at this moment he sure felt like he was.

With his palm, he wiped away the tears. He shouldn’t be crying, not in front of Mack and Jackie. His cheeks didn’t seem to dry much, and a quick look at his hand explained why. He had cut himself while splitting the apple earlier and his palm was bleeding freely. He imagined that his face must have looked a fright all smeared with blood. He supposed it didn’t really matter.

He took a bottle out of his pocket, fumbled with the lid, silently cursing the man who invented childproof containers, until he could get it off and popped a few pills into his mouth. He staggered his way to the stable door and paused to look back to the horses. Jackie and Mack were eyeing him, and on the far side of the stable sleeping on a pile of hay was the newest addition to the stable, a little foal named Blossom that he had gotten a couple months back. It was a shame he wouldn’t have the chance to properly get to know the little filly.

“Goodbye.”

John Apple left the stable one last time and trudged off to the woods on the edge of his property with an old pistol in his hand.

Twilight Sparkle, a short, purple unicorn, was walking through the Everfree Forest towards Ponyville after visiting Zecora, ever careful not to accidentally step off the path. As powerful as she was, all it would take was one swipe of a manticore’s claws or even a simple look into the eyes of a stealthy cockatrice to end her. No matter how often she went into the forest, she never let complacency get the better of her.

As the trees began to thin, she felt the tension in her body start to dissipate. She loved visiting Zecora for tea and conversation, but sometimes she really wished she didn’t live inside the Everfree Forest. Zecora steadfastly refused to move into Ponyville proper, though. She claimed that being inside the Everfree was a practical necessity for collecting all the herbs she needed for her various concoctions.

As she stepped past the final batch of trees, careful to step around the poison joke that was growing on the path, she could finally let her guard down. The stress of travelling the forest was tremendous, but unavoidable. If she didn’t maintain constant vigilance then she could end up lying in an unconscious heap on the verge of death, just like that red stallion off to the side of the path entering the forest.

“Oh sweet Celestia! There’s a collapsed, earth pony stallion just outside the Everfree Forest!” Twilight panicked as the realization of what was before her sunk in. She rushed towards the fallen pony.

“Okay...breathe Twilight...you can handle this! You can handle this! First things first, make sure there’s no threats around that could take your head off.” Twilight did a quick visual scan of the area, finding nothing more than a few chirping birds on a nearby branch.

“Check! Next make sure he’s still breathing!” She placed her head on his barrel, feeling his chest rise and fall as he took breath while simultaneously hearing his steady heart beat.

“Check, next attempt to identify the pony. Large, red, earth pony stallion, faded green mane with a hint of grey forming along the edges, cutie mark is a bucket of apples. Eyes,” Twilight lifted an eyelid with a hoof to get a look, “orange. Possibly a part of the Apple family. Is that blood?” Twilight stared at the red splotch that had stained her hoof where she had touched the stallion’s face. She sniffed at the stain and confirmed that yes, it definitely was blood. Looking closer at the stallion, she noticed that there was a considerable smearing of the stuff near his eyes, though it was hard to spot given his colouration.

“Next I...um...lift him up gently and take him to the hospital I guess. Or maybe I should leave him here and get a doctor to come to him, I probably shouldn’t risk moving him if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

As if on cue, an eerie moaning came from the Everfree Forest beside them. Twilight gave an audible gulp.

“It’s...probably just the wind. Yeah, just the wind.” The bird that had been singing moments ago tilted its head while it stared at Twilight as if to question her assertion. The forest gave another moan, eliciting a nervous eye twitch from the unicorn.

“On the other hoof, carrying him out of here can’t be any more dangerous than leaving him alone by the Everfree.”

Having established her justification, Twilight lifted the red stallion with her magic and hastily ran off to the Ponyville Hospital.

Twilight trotted around the fields of Sweet Apple Acres, searching for her friend, Applejack, among the rows of apple trees. The stallion she had rescued less than an hour ago was safely in the hospital being examined by the medical staff. Twilight, despite all her tremendous stores of personal knowledge, knew very little of medicine or handling the sick and injured, so she was sent away to let the professionals do their work. Her duty to help the stallion fulfilled, she felt obligated to contact his possible next of kin, hence her presence at Sweet Apple Acres.

It didn’t take Twilight long to find the orange, earth pony mare. She was pulling out weeds from the fields where she grew non-apple related produce, a sheen of sweat covering her well toned body and her yellow mane and tail swaying slightly in the day’s breeze. Upon noticing her friend approaching, Applejack waved a jovial hoof at Twilight.

“Hey, Twi! What brings ya to the farm?” Applejack greeted with a large smile on her face.

“Hello, AJ. It’s about somepony I found collapsed near the Everfree Forest.” Twilight began.

“What in tarnation would somepony be doing there? Is she okay?” Twilight’s ear twitched in irritation at being interrupted.

“I don’t know, and he is at the hospital right now.”

“If he’s already bein’ taken care of, why are you comin' to me?” AJ asked. Her face twisted from one of confusion into one of worry. “Wait, is it somepony I know? Did Big Mac get hurt in the forest?!” Applejack tried to remember the last time she had seen her brother. It had been hours, plenty of time for him to get into trouble.

“No! Big Mac is fine, I think. It’s not him anyway, but he did kind of remind me of him. He’s almost as big as your brother, is a similar shade of red and has a bucket of apples for a cutie mark. I thought he may be a relative of yours.”

“Hmm...big, red and a bucket o’ apples? Did ya get his name, Twi?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, he was unconscious the entire time, so I couldn’t ask.”

“Well, shucks, ah don’t know who it is off the top of my head, but it would be awfully un-family like to not go see how he’s doin. Lead the way, Twi.”

“Hello Twilight, and Applejack. Are you two here to see the stallion you brought in earlier today?” Nurse Redheart asked of the two.

“Yes. How is he doing?” Twilight responded. Redheart scanned a clipboard that was on the counter in front of her.

“Let’s see...he had a small cut on his foreleg near the hoof, it’s possibly where the blood on his face came from since we found no evidence of bleeding there. His back seems to be injured by some kind of recent impact, considerable bruising is still present in addition to less obvious damage. We can treat it with magic and medicine, but it’s likely to cause at least some chronic pain for the rest of his life. He also had unusually high levels of some unknown drug in his system.”

“Somepony drugged him?” Twilight asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “Was there any evidence of...umm...how do I say this... being taken advantage of?” She winced at the thought that Redheart wouldn’t understand what she was getting at and blushed at the possibility of going any more detailed than she already had. Fortunately for her, the nurse seemed to immediately understand what she was getting at.

“While we can’t rule it out entirely, we did not find enough evidence to suggest such a thing.” Twilight exhaled with relief.

“All this talk is great an’ all, but Twilight tells me he might be an Apple, so ah want to see him.” Applejack voiced impatiently.

“What AJ means is that if he is well enough for visitors, we would appreciate it if we could see him.” Twilight hastily interjected with an apologetic look.

“Well, if you think you could identify him that’d be great. His injuries shouldn’t keep him here for more than a couple of days, so having some family to stay with after his release might do him some good.”

“Well then, what’re we waitin’ for? Let’s go.”

“Just one thing, he may not be awake yet. If he is still asleep you aren’t to try and wake him.”

“Just cause ah have a barn don’t mean ah was born in one, ah know not to go disturbin’ sick ponies when they’re restin’.”

Content with AJ’s assurance, Redheart gave a slight nod and beckoned the two mares to follow her down a hallway and to a closed door. She cracked it open and looked inside before turning back to the others and placed a hoof over her lips. Once the two nodded their understanding, she pushed the door open the rest of the way and the three mares quietly entered the room.

The patient was lying in his bed with his back towards them, his barrel expanding and contracting rhythmically. As the mares approached, he rolled over in his sleep, now facing them. Two of the mares failed to notice Applejack freezing in place.

“Do you recognize him, AJ?” Twilight whispered from her position beside the bed. When Applejack didn’t respond, she looked back to see her standing still near the entrance with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Is something the matter? Are you in need of assistance?” Redheart asked as she approached the shocked mare, but Applejack refused to let the nurse do anything to her, instead opting to slip outside the room. Confused, Twilight followed after her friend.

Applejack had sit down and was leaning against the wall just outside the door. She had a distant look in her eyes and was trembling something fierce.

“Applejack!” She called out to her. “What’s wrong?”

The shaking mare didn’t respond at first. Just as Twilight was about to press further, she began whispering, almost to herself.

“Ah thought he was dead.”

“What?”

“All these years he’s been gone. If he’s been alive all this time, then why hasn’t he tried to tell me? Was ah really that unimportant to him?” Tears began flowing down Applejack’s face.

“Who is he?!” Twilight demanded with the beginnings of panic forming in the edges of her voice. She did not like seeing her friend this upset.

Applejack looked up with a mixture of confusion, pain and hope.

“My father.”

Author's Notes:

Just a little idea that popped into my head one day when I was thinking about Applejack's missing parents. I probably won't update this story often, though I do plan on writing at least a few more chapters eventually.

Chapter 2

John Apple groaned lightly as he slowly regained consciousness. He heard the sound of a bird singing nearby, and opening his eyes revealed a rather rustic looking hospital room. He felt a little woozy and had trouble concentrating. How did he get there?

Slowly, the wheels in his head turned. He remembered the injury that Mack had given him. He remembered writing a will so that his farm would be well taken care of. He remembered pumping himself so full of painkillers that he could barely walk straight, and saying goodbye to his horses. Most of all, he remembered walking into the woods with his old pistol. What he didn’t remember was anything after that.

He sighed melancholically. He failed. Too much pain killers had probably caused him to pass out. Somebody had likely found him snoozing against a tree somewhere and dragged him to the nearest hospital.

Staring blankly into space, he noticed a bright, red protrusion coming out of his face. He raised a hand to brush it away only to find that not only could he feel with said protrusion, but he didn’t have a hand anymore either. In its place was an equally bright red hoof. He casually looked down at the rest of his body to find that he looked, for the most part, like a big, red horse.

John Apple chuckled to himself. They must have had him on some mighty strong stuff if he was imagining himself as a horse. Considering that he was closer to his horses than he had been to any humans for years, he didn’t find himself all that upset at such a transformation. As he tried to roll over into a more comfortable position, a familiar twinge of pain flared up in his back. Not strong enough stuff, apparently.

Boredom was swift to overtake the man. He had never been too good at staying still, and being injured hadn’t changed that none. Gritting through the pain, he sat up in his bed. He knew he probably shouldn’t be moving. If the injured back wasn’t enough, then the fact that he was so high he was imagining he was a horse should probably have kept him in bed. The doc would likely chew him out something fierce later, but he didn’t much care. He had tried to kill himself, he doubted anything he did now short of retrying could compare to that.

He gave himself a sturdy shove off the bed and onto his feet. He didn’t need the sudden flare of pain in his back to know that something was wrong, his balance was completely shot like that. His two feet refused to hold him upright and he swiftly fell to the floor with a mighty thud.

He hurt. Almost everywhere, he hurt. It just didn’t make sense. If he was being pumped full of enough meds to have him seeing himself as a horse, then there’s no way a fall like that should have hurt him like it did. His back, sure, but not the rest of him.

Shakily, he placed his hands or hooves or whatever to the floor and pushed himself up off the ground. At first he had planned on pushing himself back to his feet again, but something about having his arms beneath him felt right. He felt stable on all four limbs, and the pain in his back was at a much more manageable level.

Though he didn’t much like the idea of crawling around on all fours like some sort of baby, he admitted to himself it was probably better than falling on his face again. Swallowing his pride, he took an experimental step forward, and another, then another and so on until he was walking in a little circle. He was a little unsteady, and the clomping of his hooves on the tiled floor was a mite bit distracting, but he could move.

With that dealt with, the old farmer made his way over to the window. He had expected to see the small town nearest his farm, or maybe even the busy streets of a major city if he had needed to be taken to a proper hospital, but what he saw completely threw him for a loop.

What lay outside his window was a very rural looking town, even more so than the one he had anticipated. It looked straight out of a fairy tale with its thatched roofs, dirt roads and buildings decorated all fancy like based around some kind of theme. Heck, he even thought he saw a life sized ginger bread house in the distance. But no matter how odd the buildings were, they couldn’t compare to the apparent inhabitants.

Horses were everywhere. Winged horses were flying about, unicorns trotting by casually with stuff floating through the air next to them, and even regular horses too. Well, regular in the sense that they didn’t have horns or wings anyhow. They all looked distorted. Their heads were too big, so were their eyes, their snouts were too short and their bodies much thinner than real horses, not to mention that he'd never seen horses nearly so colourful in all his life.

John Apple was so flabbergasted by what he saw that he didn’t even notice when the door opened and a trio of mares walked inside.

“Ah’m tellin’ ya, Granny, it’s Dad. He looks exactly like ah remember.” A young woman’s voice filled the room.

“Ah’ll believe it when ah see it, Applejack. My Honeycrisp has been gone comin’ on a dozen years now, and yer memory is probably a little faulty on account of ya bein’ so young when he disappeared an’ all.” A stereotypical, crotchety old woman’s voice responded to the younger one.

The name “Honeycrisp” tickled something in the back of his mind. It was a nickname his parents gave him because he used to drown his apple crisp in honey. His farm had always had some apple orchards, and his parents loved puns, so they always called him Honeycrisp. He hadn’t heard that name in probably a dozen years, not since his mother died.

Carefully, as to not agitate his back, he turned to face the ones who seemed to know his old nickname. After what he had seen through the window, he could hardly say he was surprised to see a trio of horses standing there. They were spread across the age spectrum with a wrinkled up, old nag, an adorable little filly and a healthy looking, young adult mare. The oldest had a green coat with a greyed out mane, the young adult was orange with a blonde mane and the little filly was yellow with a cherry red mane and a cute pink bow on top.

“Honeycrisp?” The eldest one asked in awe and confusion.

“Uhh....hi there.” He answered, more than a little uncertain as to what was going on.

“Is it really him?” The little filly’s voice was filled with hope.

“I...uh...Jus’ a moment, there. Ah need a good look at ‘im first fore ah kin be sure.”

The apparent granny of the group hobbled on forward, eyeing him skeptically. She reached for his face with one of her hooves and grabbed onto him, though he had no idea how that was even possible. As he considered just how much his mind must be failing him, she examined his cheek.

“There’s the mark from when ya were foolin’ round with the farm tools as a foal...” She moved from his cheek to his shoulder. "An’ there’s yer scars from when ya fell outta yer tree house. Ya were in the hospital for a week fer that one.”

The old mare moved from old injury to old injury, giving detailed explanations on how he earned each one, and she was right every time. Nobody else knew all those stories, just like nobody alive called him Honeycrisp anymore. When she finished, she went back to standing in front of him and stared up into his eyes with wonder. A few tears flowed down her face.

“It’s really you, ain’t it, Honeycrisp?” She whispered.

“Ma?” He responded, a few tears of his own at the prospect of his mother somehow being alive. The two leaned towards each other as if to embrace. Instead, with speed that defied her aging form, she slapped him.

“That’s fer runnin’ off fer a dozen years,” John’s eyes widened, more in surprise than pain, and before he could respond she wrapped him in that hug he had been anticipating, “and this is fer comin’ back.”

Rather than voicing his objections to being struck, he allowed himself to silently melt into his mother’s embrace. It had been far too long since he had experienced such physical affection from anything other than his horses and he wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass, even if his mother was actually a horse herself right now.

John had no doubts about it, he had gone insane. The meds must have fried his brain entirely and he was probably locked away somewhere in a strait jacket, bouncing off the padded walls. It didn’t matter, though. He’d take this happy insanity over reality any day.

The loving embrace grew larger as two others joined in. He opened his eyes and looked at the two younger mares that had just latched onto him. The youngest gripped him tightly with a look of pure bliss on her face. The other one, however, noticed the look of confusion on his face.

“Ya don’t know who we are, do ya, Pa?” She asked as the four split up, a bit of pain in her voice.

He shook his head, feeling tremendous regret that he didn’t know. Who could they possibly be? They were far too young to be anyone he was related to, dead or alive. Hadn’t they called his mother “granny”, though? Did that mean...? No, they couldn’t be.

“Don’t take it too hard, the two of ya have grown a lot since he last saw ya. Anypony would have a hard time recognizin’ ya.” The elder mare attempted to soothe her, then addressed John himself. “This here is Applejack, an' the little one is Apple Bloom.

Those names settled it. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating or something. Those names were too similar to his horses to be a coincidence. He had already seen Jackie, Mack, and Blossom as something akin to his children, and now his broken mind had latched onto that and just made it a little more literal.

He felt a pressure on one of his forelegs. He looked down to see Apple Bloom placing one of her tiny hooves onto his massive leg and staring up at him with the most adorable, puppy dog eyes.

“Ya do remember me, right?” Her voice was so hopeful, so filled with longing and was tinged with a heart wrenching level of fear. His heart broke for he truly couldn’t remember anything about her, but there was no way he could tell her that.

“Of course ah do, Apple Bloom. Yer granny’s right, ya just grew so much that ah didn’t recognize ya.” He told her his reassuring lie.

Now he knew lying was wrong, his parents had grilled that into him sure enough, but the way she wrapped her hooves around his leg in another hug because she couldn’t reach any higher just warmed his lonely heart to levels he hadn’t experienced in years. Wincing through the pain of his injured back, he leaned down to hug her back.

Even if she wasn’t real, he’d act the part of the father for her as long as she wanted. It looked to be something she needed, and it was definitely something he had always wanted. It was just one lie that made both of them happy, it could hardly be that bad.

Chapter 3

“Okay, Mister Honeycrisp, I’m just going to ask you a few questions.” Nurse Redheart explained while holding a clipboard in one hoof and a pen in the other, somehow.

John looked away from the nurse for a moment at Applejack and his mother in turn. Little Apple Bloom had been shooed off by the medical staff due to her restless behaviour. She was an antsy one, just like her father. Err...just like John was.

“Okay.” John nodded, unsure as to what kind of questions they would want to ask.

“Your family tells me you disappeared twelve years ago. Where have you been all this time?”

John blinked in surprise. That was a question he hadn’t exactly anticipated coming from the nurse. To be honest, he had entirely forgotten that his new found family had said he’d been gone that long. What should he say? What could he say? That he was a human living alone on a farm in the real world and everything happening now was just an elaborate hallucination caused by brain damage from trying to kill himself? That hardly seemed appropriate for a happy fantasy world of colourful horses.

“Uh...ah don’t rightly know, ma’am.”

The brows of the three mares near him wrinkled in concern. John fidgeted nervously, uncomfortable with lying to them like that.

“Are you sure? You remember nothing?” Redheart pushed. John came to the conclusion that perhaps a complete lapse of memory wouldn’t do, and telling at least some truth may alleviate his shame.

“Well...ah remember bein’ alone an’ unhappy, but nothin’ much more than that.”

“Hmmm....perhaps whatever happened to you has impaired your memory.” Nurse Redheart suggested. “How about the Everfree Forest, do you remember how you got there?”

John shook his head and, relieved that he could answer a question with complete honesty. “No, ma’am.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Ah remember walkin’ into a forest, but ah don’t think it was that one.”

“Oh? Do you remember which forest it was, or where? It could be very useful in determining where you’ve been.”

John scrunched up his face in concentration, trying to remember what the forest next to his home had been named. It remained elusive, though. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t remember. He never really considered it too important, he’d always just called them the woods.

John shook his head again. “Ah’m sure it had a name, but fer the life of me ah can’t remember what it was called.”

“Okay. Do you remember why you were walking into the forest?”

“Well,” John bit his lip a moment, “ah weren’t in too good a place, in my head ah mean, and ah was a little outta it.” Silence filled the air for a moment as the others waited for him to continue.

“That’s it?” Redheart asked. John looked over to his newfound family members uncomfortably. He didn’t like the idea of his mother, or his new daughter, hearing about his suicide attempt.

“Is something wrong, Dad?” Applejack’s voice was filled with concern.

“If somethin’s botherin’ ya, we’re here for ya, Honeycrisp. Whatever it is, we can help ya through it. That’s what family’s fer.” Granny Smith assured him.

John sighed and bowed his head at their encouragement. It had been a long time since he had anyone that he could actually confide in, and it would no doubt take a lot of getting used to.

“Ah...ah may have been tryin’ to take my life.”

“Now why in tarnation would ya go an’ do a fool thing like that?” Granny Smith asked incredulously.

John fidgeted some more. These questions were proving to be awfully painful for a world his mind created to make him happy. He didn’t want to tell any more lies, but he didn’t think he could tell them everything. He’d just have to be blurry on the details.

“Ah felt alone, like ah’d jus’ lost everything that ah cared about.”

“Are ya sure this weren’t the Everfree ya wandered into?” Granny questioned.

“Pretty sure, why?”

“Cause that sounds a lot like how ya said ya felt after Rosewood died.”

“Rosewood?” That name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where it came from.

Applejack and Granny Smith shared a worried expression. Both Redheart and John merely looked confused.

“Ya don’t remember Mom?”

John’s eyes widened. He supposed it only made sense that in this world he must have taken a wife in order to have children, but like with many things so far, he simply hadn’t thought about it. This hallucination was going far more detailed than he would have expected.

Casting through his memories to try and think where his subconscious could have taken this name from, he finally began to remember. It was a little foggy in his mind because of how long it had been, but Rose Wood had been a girl he had been sweet on back in school. She had died in an accident of some kind before he had ever built up the nerve to talk to her, though. It was kind of depressing that his subconscious would have to delve that far back in time for a girl he had loved, which wasn’t made much better by having her dead here too.

“Do you know where you are right now?” Redheart warily questioned.

“The hospital.” He answered quickly, glad for the opportunity to change the subject from mysterious deceased spouses that he never actually had.

“Well, yes, but I mean the name of the town you’re in.”

“Oh. Um...”

“You don’t know, do you?” Sheepishly, he shook his head at the nurse’s prodding. “Do you recognize the name ‘Ponyville’?” Once again, he shook his head.

“Hold on a minute, ya don’t remember yer home town?” Applejack interjected. A moment later, her eyes widened as a grim realization dawned on her. “Ya didn’t remember my name or Apple Bloom’s until ya were told. Ya didn’t really remember us at all, did ya?”

John averted his gaze.

“What’s mah brother’s name?”

“What’s gotten into ya, Applejack? Can’t ya see yer father’s in rough shape right now?”

“No, it’s a valid question, Granny Smith.” Redheart piped up. “It could be very useful in determining just how badly damaged his memory is.”

John used the diversion of the arguing mares to think back on the trend that his supposed daughters had established in regards to their names. They’d both been named after his horses back home, so it would make sense that his son should do the same. The other two hadn’t been exactly the same, though, but hopefully it’d be close enough.

“It’s Mack, right?”

“See? Yer father remembers ya. Ya should be ashamed of yerself fer doubtin’ him like that.” Granny scolded Applejack, causing a pang of guilt in John Apple’s chest. She shouldn’t get in trouble for his lies. He sighed loudly.

“No...she’s right.” He stated, causing Applejack’s face to light up with surprise. “Ah jus’ remember a name or two, an' they’re probably not even quite the right names either. Ah jus’ told Apple Bloom ah remembered her earlier cause ah didn’t wanna hurt her feelings.”

The assembled ponies didn’t quite seem to know what to say about this confession, so awkward silence filled the room. It was the nurse who finally broke the silence.

“Well, that certainly gives us a better idea as to how badly impaired your memories are. Do you remember your mother?”

John looked over to the wrinkly old mare that appeared to be his mother, her countenance filled with worried anticipation.

“Yeah, ah do. She looks a little different,” understatement of the year that one was, “she looks older, but the way she talks, some of her mannerisms....they’re familiar.”

“That’s something to work with at least.” Redheart nodded to herself. “Maybe if you spent some time with your family, some of your memory might return.”

“Do ya really think that’d work?” Applejack asked.

“I don’t know,” Redheart shrugged, “but it couldn’t hurt. Anyway, his injuries aren’t serious enough to justify keeping him in the hospital for much longer. He should definitely take it easy, though, with lots of rest and no strenuous physical activity, or he’ll risk aggravating his back.”

John grimaced. He’d heard that speech before. They’d ship him away with a few painkillers to placate him and he’d spend the rest of his life either in considerable pain or too doped up to function properly. A glance at his mother and daughter reassured him, though. At least he wouldn’t be going through it on his own this time.

”I’ll prescribe some pain medication he can take home with him, which he can get refilled when he comes in for a check up at least once a week. If all goes well, in a month or two, we’ll be able to take him off the meds.”

John blinked at this news. Had he heard her right? They were going to have him off the painkillers within a couple of months?

“But ah thought my back was messed up enough that ah’d be in pain the rest of my life.”

“Did one of the other doctors tell you that?” Redheart asked with a wrinkled brow. Realizing she was waiting for a response, he nodded. It wasn’t technically lying, other doctors did tell him that, they just weren’t the ones here. “Well, rest assured they were exaggerating. Technically, yes, you will likely experience some occasional pain related to your injury for the rest of your life, but it shouldn’t be unbearable and certainly won’t justify the continued use of medication. Your back will never be as strong as it once was, but you should still be able to help on your family farm so long as you don’t overdo it.” She raised a hoof and pointed it at him in admonishment. “But only if you take it easy until it heals.”

John was floored by this news. This was far better than any human doctor had ever told him, and he had seen a lot about his injury. They’d told him that he would suffer from severe, chronic pain for the rest of his life and there was no chance of him being able to do farm work in even a diminished capacity ever again. He’d been left facing the prospect of being forced to lose his farm, the only thing in his life that had given him any meaning or purpose. He had no family of any kind to help him out or inherit the place, and he had no skills he could use to find employment anywhere else, except places that he couldn’t work because his back would prevent him from doing so. He had absolutely nothing left in the world except for crushing loneliness. It was why he had tried to kill himself.

His euphoria was dampened a little as he remembered this wasn’t real, but only a little. It was easy to forget that, given how real everything felt. It wasn’t surprising that his back wouldn’t be irreparably damaged in a fantasy world of his own imagination. Then again, nobody said that dreams were always good, they could just as easily be nightmares, right? He should probably stop questioning things and just enjoy the ride for as long as it lasted. He looked to the faces of his mother, daughter and the nurse.

“So, do you feel up to going home now?” Redheart asked.

“Yes. Ah think ah’d like that very much.”

Chapter 4

John Apple sat inside a rickety old cart that was attached to, and being pulled by, his daughter Applejack. He chuckled at the sight. A sentient horse, or pony as he had begun to pick up on, was working just the same as any non sapient beast of burden. It was a surreal sight.

An hour or so had passed since he had answered all those questions from Nurse Redheart, who he had learned was actually a doctor, ‘Nurse’ just so happened to be her name. Anyway, his mother had insisted that he wouldn’t be walking home, despite his insistence that he was capable of doing so, and had sent Applejack home to get the cart he was currently riding in.

“Why didn’t Big Mac come to see his father?” Granny Smith asked from her position leaning into the corner of the cart. “He coulda at least offered to help pull the cart.”

“He jus’ said he had chores to do, that’s all.” Applejack answered.

“That’s mighty strange, ya think he’d be more excited to see his long lost dad.” Granny muttered to John. “Maybe he’s takin’ yer suddenly showin’ up after bein’ gone so long harder than the others, he is the only one old ‘nough to have more than jus’ a few fuzzy memories of ya.”

Much to his consternation, John felt guilt for something he knew he hadn’t even done. He’d felt enough guilt for things he was doing, what with all the lies, this was more than he needed right now. Misplaced guilt aside, he still felt bad for the kid. He didn’t doubt that being abandoned by your father could have a severe impact on a child.

“Maybe ah should apologize to him when ah see him.” He thought aloud.

“Couldn’t hurt none.” Granny Smith added quietly, nodding her head in a sage manner. Or maybe she was just nodding off to sleep, as some light snoring seemed to indicate.

John stretched and lay back in the cart, trying to relax, but was soon fidgeting. He knew that this ride was better for his back, but he really wished they had let him walk instead. He sat up straight again and looked over to Applejack.

“So...what’s Big Mac like?”

“Shouldn’t ya already know?” She answered tersely without even looking back at him. He got the impression that Big Mac may not be the only one who harbored resentment over being abandoned.

“Well, as the doctor said, my memory’s a little muddled, so ah don’t really know.”

“He’s big, he’s red an’ he don’t talk much.”

“You don’t really seem to want to talk much, either.” He observed uneasily.

“Nope.”

John wilted a little at the Spartan nature of her words: quick, to the point and openly hostile. Without his mother awake to act as a witness, Applejack seemed far more willing to express her resentment. Could he really blame her, though? How would he have reacted if his mother had suddenly reappeared after a dozen years of supposedly being dead? As he looked down on his mother’s resting form, he realized that had already happened and he had taken it rather well, and as such it wasn’t the best analogy.

Granny Smith. His mother had always wanted to be a grandmother, and he had always regretted not being able to make that dream a reality for her. It was probably why she had everyone call her granny in this incarnation, though why she chose her last name instead of her first to pair it with, he didn’t know. Upon some minor reflection, he concluded that it probably had something to do with her love of both puns and apples. Combining granny with her first name would hardly get that effect, she’d be Granny....Granny...Granny Ma? Huh. That was funny. He just couldn’t think what his mother’s first name was. Looking at the bottle resting against his mother’s side, he figured it was probably the drugs messing with his ability to remember things.

Though the remainder of the cart ride was filled with awkward silence and an underlying sense of guilt for not telling the truth of his identity to his currently adopted family, it was still a short journey. The thatch roofed houses gave way to open fields of grasses and bushes, which in turn gave way to orchards of apple trees and fields filled with various other crops. It all had a familiar feel to it. Though it all looked little like the farm he had known and loved all his life, it was still a farm and felt like home.

A particularly large bump in the road jostled the cart and woke Granny Smith. She mumbled incoherently for a moment as she got her bearings.

“Oh! We’re home. That was quicker than ah thought it’d be. Applejack musta really hauled as quick like to get here this fast.”

John chuckled. “Nah, Ma, ya jus’ fell asleep, that’s all.”

“Did ah now? “ She scrunched up her face as she thought on it. “Funny, ah don’t remember doin’ that.”

The cart drew up to a large, red building. If one weren’t paying attention, they could easily mistake it for a barn, but the real barn was visible a little ways off. This, upon, closer inspection, was obviously a house. Excited to see his new home, John attempted to crawl out of the cart, only to be stopped by a firm hoof on his shoulder.

“Hold it right there,” Granny Smith ordered, “ya should wait fer Applejack to help ya out of this here cart. Wouldn’t wanna go makin’ yer back even worse than it already is.”

“I’m fine, Ma.” John rolled his eyes at her concern. “Ah’m pretty sure ah can get outta a cart without—“ at that moment, still not fully accustomed to walking with four legs, he tripped and fell over the edge of their transport.

“Honeycrisp!” His mother shrieked in panic, trying all too slowly to reach out to stop his fall. He shut his eyes tight and braced for impact with the ground, only to find himself landing on the relatively soft, outstretched forelegs of Applejack instead.

“Whoa, there, ah gotcha!” Applejack reassured him.

“Thank you.” John said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment over having to be rescued by his own child. He couldn’t help but be impressed by how the smaller mare had been able to catch him without falling down herself. She was a strong one, he noted with a slight measure of pride that wrestled with his embarrassment.

“Maybe next time ya should listen to Granny.” She reprimanded him.

“Understood.” He nodded his agreement. He hated that he might need to rely on others for something so simple as stepping out of a cart, but realized that completely destroying any chance that his back would recover would be far worse. He would just have to swallow his pride in the future, at least until he was healed.

The front door of the house slammed open and a huge, red pony galloped through it onto the front porch, looking very concerned after having heard the shouts coming from outside. When he saw that everybody was okay, he visibly relaxed, though didn’t speak.

As John regained his feet, or hooves he supposed, he realized that this must be Big Macintosh. As lacking in detail as Applejack had been with her description, he couldn’t accuse her of being wrong. He gingerly walked up to the porch to greet his supposed son. With a hint of sadness, he took note of the big guy tensing up again as he approached.

“So you must be Big Mac.” He greeted the stallion, a little surprised when even he had to look up slightly to see him eye to eye.

“Eeyup.” He stated succinctly, refusing to make eye contact as he stared off into one of the nearby apple orchards. He seemed to wither a little in John’s presence, almost making him seem small next to him despite being the larger pony.

“Mmm...that sure smells good. Were ya cookin’ up some lunch, Big Mac?” Applejack interjected as she trotted onto the porch.

“Eeyup.” He responded absently, still staring at the apple trees.

“Is something wrong?” John asked.

“Nope.” He steadfastly denied. Granny Smith hobbled her way onto the porch, John’s previously forgotten medicine bottle with her, and entered the conversation.

“He’s probably jus’ eager to get back to work. With all of us wastin’ time at the hospital, there’s probably more chores still left to do than ya could shake a stick at.” Big Mac nodded his head meekly. “Well then, don’t let us stop ya, go on an’ git back to work.”

A wave of relief seemed to wash over Big Mac’s features as he rushed off to do as his grandmother bid. John had expected him to be like Applejack, bitter and resentful, but he seemed nervous instead, almost scared even. That was two of his apparent children that had a negative reaction to his presence. He probably could have avoided those reactions if he had just told the truth and let them know he wasn’t really their Honeycrisp. As he watched Big Macintosh running off, he realized that he had missed his opportunity to apologize. He’d just have to do it later and hope he takes it well.

The three of them entered through the front door. John paused to take off his boots only to realize that he wasn’t wearing any. In an awkward attempt to look natural, he wiped his hooves off on the entry mat instead. Fortunately for him, the other two had already gone on ahead of him and hadn’t seen his slight gaffe.

Looking around, he noticed he was in what appeared to be their living room. There were a couple of sofas, a rocking chair in the corner, a neatly organized bookshelf lined with books, and photos that lined nearly every inch of the walls. He’d never seen so many photos of what he assumed was family before. Several dozen faces filled the simple frames, each one smiling joyfully and surrounded by several other equally jubilant faces. As an only child with no family members to speak of outside of his parents, he could only have imagined what it was like to have this many relatives.

As he scanned the equine faces on the wall, his eyes eventually landed on one in particular. It looked to be a bit older than the others around it, based on its slightly faded nature. In that picture, he saw a big, red stallion with green hair and orange eyes. Though he hadn’t yet seen himself in a mirror, he could only guess that the stallion’s face was a match for his own. Sitting next to him was a beautiful yellow mare with a bright, rose red mane and gentle, emerald green eyes. That would probably have been Rosewood, he reckoned. Held in her forelegs was a little, newborn foal of similar colouration to her, excepting her eyes which were orange like her father’s. Next to Honeycrisp was an adorable, little filly of orange with a blonde mane and the eyes of her mother, and beside Rosewood was what looked to be a gangly preteen colt of red with a dark yellow mane, and the same green eyes as his sister, he was staring with happy curiosity at his newest baby sister.

The five looked absolutely radiant together. He could almost feel the love just gazing at the image. As he stared at the grinning faces, he felt a couple of tears running down his face. Wiping them away with a hoof, he had to ask himself: why was he crying?

“Hey, Honeycrisp! Ya comin? The food’s gonna get cold!” Granny Smith called out to him from the kitchen.

John shook his head in an effort to rid himself of the uncomfortable emotions the picture had instilled in him, then stepped across the worn, hardwood floor into the kitchen.

“There ya are, took ya long enough. Have a seat and’ I’ll serve ya up some grub.” Granny Smith said from her position next to a big pot on the stove.

John did as his mother bid him and took an empty seat at the table. After being shooed away by Granny Smith, who had refused her help, Applejack sat down as well, opposite of John, and stared at him. Feeling a little awkward beneath the younger pony’s scrutiny, his own eyes wandered the table. He noted that at the end of the table there was a full bowl of soup and a slice of apple pie with a single, large bite taken out of it. John wilted a little when he realized it was probably Big Mac’s. John knew how punishing farm chores could be if you didn’t eat properly, so he figured that he must have really wanted to avoid him if he left his meal uneaten.

“There ya go, vegetable soup an’ a nice bit o’ homemade apple pie.” Granny Smith announced as she placed the food in front of him.

“Thank you.” He bowed his head in acknowledgement and, without even thinking about it, he lifted the spoon from the bowl to his lips with his hoof. The soup was delicious, and somewhat familiar. It tasted a lot like his mother’s old recipe that she had made for him as a child. It wasn’t quite the same, but he doubted that it was a coincidence.

“Ya teach Big Mac how to make this soup?” He asked of his mother.

“Sure did.” She answered with pride as she sat down with her own bowl. “He likes puttin’ a few more spices in it that ah do, but it’s still my recipe.”

“It’s delicious. It’s been a long time since ah’ve had yer soup. Ah missed it.”

“Aw, shucks, ah ain’t even the one who cooked it and ya got me blushin’.”

“So...do ya remember anything now?” Applejack asked rather suddenly, derailing the small talk. John shook his head sadly.

“No.”

He really wished that it were possible to remember, but none of it actually happened to him, so it wasn’t. Thinking back on that family photo only made him lament that fact even more.

“That’s okay, ah’m sure it’ll come in time, we jus’ gotta be patient.” Granny Smith consoled him.

“Yeah...” He responded unenthusiastically.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, the most prominent noise being the slurping of soup and the clanking of cutlery on dishes. Applejack was the first to rise from the table.

“Ah think ah should go an’ help Big Mac with the chores.” She carried her dishes over to counter with her teeth and set them gently into the sink. “Ah’ll see ya later, Granny...Dad.”

Shortly after Applejack left, Granny Smith finished too and cleared the table.

“Do ya want any help with washin’ the dishes?”

“That’s mighty kind of ya to offer, Honeycrisp, but ah can handle it jus’ fine myself. Ya should probably get some rest.”

“Ah am a little tired.” He admitted with a yawn.

“Well then, ah’ll be showin’ ya to yer room before ah get to washin’ these.”

John followed after the old mare up some stairs, thankful that her aging form caused her to move slowly enough for him to use them with only minor flares of pain in his back. It would probably be a good idea to take some of his medicine before going to bed. The pair continued down a hallway until they stopped at a closed door.

“Now, it was converted into a guest bedroom after ya disappeared, so a lot of yer and Rosewood’s stuff is out in the storage shed, but it’s still got a bed that ya can sleep in. Ya can go through the shed later an’ decide what ya wanna bring back inside.”

Granny Smith opened the door and led him inside. It was a relatively plain room. There was a bed, easily big enough for two and covered with a patchwork quilt. An old clock sat on a nightstand right next to the bed, and a poem that extolled the virtues and value of family was framed above the headboard.

“Do ya still have my medicine? Ah think ah should probably take some right ‘bout now.”

“Ah left it in the kitchen, ah’ll go get it right now and be right back before ya know it.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

John watched his mother hobble back out of the room and close the door behind her, shutting him off from the rest of the world again. He stepped over to the window and gazed outside. He tried to spot either Applejack or Big Macintosh, but neither were visible from his little room.

This new life was really something. His back was going to heal up nearly good as new, his mother was alive, and he had three children to keep him company and take over the farm that, upon reflection, he realized they pretty well already owned themselves. Sure, two of his three kids didn’t seem too close to him yet, but that could change with time as they learned to forgive him, and the youngest seemed to adore him so far. He had pretty well everything he could have asked for, excepting a wife, but that was still far more than he ever had before.

So why, with all that he had been given this day, was he so unhappy?

Chapter 5

John stirred to wakefulness at the sound of somebody stumbling around just outside his bedroom door. Whoever it was seemed even less steady on his hooves than he was, as hard as that was to believe. A glance to the clock by his bed and he could barely make out that it was just about two in the morning. He sighed and wondered what anybody would be doing up at this time of night. It was a few hours too early to be getting up to do chores, and much too late for any sane farmer to be staying up if they planned on waking in time to do said chores. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sounds.

The heavy thunk of something slamming against his door caused him to jump beneath his sheets. Wondering whether that was a knock or somebody collapsing against his door, he turned on the lamp by his bed by pulling at the on/off chain with his teeth. Whichever one it was, he needed to find out what was going on.

John threw off his blankets and hastily crawled out of bed, wincing at the pain in his back from rushing himself as he had. He reached for the bottle on his nightstand and poured out two pills from it into his mouth. With his meds taken, he made his way to the door and gently swung it open.

Standing unsteadily on the other side with his face wet from half dried tears was Big Macintosh. The scent of alcohol, hard apple cider if John wasn’t mistaken, hit him like a brick wall.

“Big Mac? What are ya doin’ here?”

“Dad?” Big Mac asked, his eyes growing wet with new tears that threatened to course down his face once more.

“What’s wrong, son?”

Those tears that had barely held on within his eyes came through on their threat and flowed freely down his face. He practically fell into an embrace with his long lost father, much to the injured stallion’s distress. His back screamed at him over the stress the larger pony was putting it under.

“Ah...Ah thought ya were dead!” Big Macintosh wailed into his father’s green mane. To Tartarus with his back, John thought, his son needed him right now.

“It’s okay, ah’m here for ya, big guy. Let it all out.” He soothed the drunk stallion, gently running a hoof through his mane in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Ah’m sorry...” big Mac whispered, already half asleep under his father’s ministration. John was surprised to hear those words coming from him, he had thought that he himself was the one that should be apologizing.

“Shh, it’s alright. Come on, Mac, let’s get ya to bed.”

Big Macintosh nodded wearily into his mane and allowed himself to be led to the bed further inside the room. John laid him down as gently as he could manage and tucked him in. He had always wanted to have his own kids that he could tuck into bed, but he’d not once imagined that kid would be a fully grown, drunken stallion. He was still glad to do it, though. It was nice to feel needed like this after a lifetime of isolation. Later he would need to have a talk with him to find out just what all this was about, but there was no way he could do so now with the way he was muttering incoherently as he drifted off to sleep. The only thing he could make out was his oft repeated apologies.

“Rest well, son.” He whispered into his ear before slipping out of the bedroom.

That was going to be the end of his sleeping tonight. Even if he still had a bed, he was too energized by the drunken intrusion to fall asleep. He’d need a new place to rest and some time to wind down before he could possibly get any more shut eye. Seeing as he had gone to bed sometime yesterday afternoon, he contemplated not even bothering to try.

He crept along the hallway, ever aware of his horribly aching back and hoping the painkillers would kick in soon, until he reached his most recent nemesis: the stairs. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he descended them at a snail’s pace. He should probably see if he could get a room on the ground floor so he didn’t need to strain himself on these steps in the future.

Finally, he reached the bottom, slick with sweat and with a parched throat. Going down had proven to be far more difficult than climbing them had. He found his way into the kitchen and to the sink. He lifted the handle and shoved his head beneath the cooling flow of water before drinking his fill straight from the faucet, then sighed with relief as he turned the tap off.

A slight rumbling in his stomach informed him that he was hungry. He really didn’t feel like trying to cook something up at the moment, even if the pain in his back was swiftly fading as his meds started taking effect. He looked around the dim kitchen for something quick and easy until his eyes landed on a fruit basket filled with apples set out on the dining table. That would do nicely.

He snatched one with his hoof and took a quick bite of it. He moaned in satisfaction as the fresh fruit contacted his tongue. The sweet juices, the smooth peel, and the relatively course innards were delicious, but more than that, they tasted exactly like the apples he had grown himself back on his own farm. He swiftly devoured the rest of it, tossed the core into the trash, and grabbed another from the basket before wandering off toward the living room. He flicked a switch that turned on the lanterns attached to the walls, illuminating the cheery faces that lined the room.

As he absently ate his second apple, he found himself staring at the same photo that had caught his attention the day before. He set his half eaten fruit down on a nearby coffee table, then took the picture off its nail to get a closer look. He collapsed onto one of the couches and continued to stare at the family that he cradled in his forelegs.

John didn’t know how long he sat there, wishing he could have had that which was never his. In particular, he gazed into the emerald eyes of Rosewood Apple. What had she been like? Was she as sweet and loving as she appeared to be while she stood there beside her husband and foals? With her face burned into his mind, he tried to imagine her laughing with joy as they spent a lazy, summer afternoon together under the warm sun. A smile graced his lips while a tear simultaneously landed on Rosewood’s beaming face.

“Yer up mighty early.” Granny Smith interrupted his thoughts as she hobbled her way into the room, breaking the mesmerizing silence of the night.

“Yeah,” he responded, looking up from the photo, “Mac woke me up.”

“What’s he doin’ gettin’ up at this hour?”

“Ah don’t think he’d been to bed, actually. He’d been drinkin’ an’ he came bangin’ on my door.”

“Drinkin’ ya say? He oughta know better than that. Ah think ah’ll go give him a piece o’ my mind fer disturbin ya when ya need yer rest.”

“Leave him alone, Ma. He seemed awfully broke up ‘bout somethin’, an’ ah’m fine, he didn’t hurt me none.” He quickly came to the defense of the boy, mindful not to mention the stress the encounter had put on his back. “Besides, he ain’t gonna remember you scoldin’ him if ya do it while he’s still black out drunk.”

“Alright, if ya say so.” Granny Smith relented. She sat herself next to John on the couch and tried to get a better look at the object he held. “Whatcha got there?”

John passed the photo to his mother, who took it gently from his hooves. She gave a ‘hmm’ of understanding as she herself stared at the image it held, her eyes becoming unfocused as she delved into the memories it evoked. After awhile, she looked over to her son.

“Ya don’t look to have aged a day from this here picture. ah’m kinda jealous. Ah’m gettin’ real up there in years now, these old bones ain’t what they used to be.”

“Ah’d bet yer back is better than mine right now.” John countered with a wry grin, eliciting a chuckle from the elderly mare.

“Aye, ah reckon yer probably right, at least ‘til ya heal up some.” She responded in good spirit, then looked back to the photo. “Do ya remember takin’ this here picture?”

John shook his head sadly.

“It was taken the year before ya went missin’. Apple Bloom here was jus’ a few weeks old. Applejack was five and Big Mac a paltry nine years old. My, how they’ve grown. Before ya know it, they’ll be havin’ foals of their own. Ah think Big Mac’s got a sweet spot fer Apple Bloom’s school teacher, Cheerilee. A nice, respectable mare like that would be a wonderful addition to the Apple family, don’t ya think?”

John frowned nervously. “Ah don’t rightly know who yer talkin’ 'bout.”

“Hmm? Oh, right. It’s easy to forget ya’ve been gone all this time with my agin' memory. Don’t mind me none, ah’m just an old nag dreamin’ bout seein’ great grand foals ‘fore ah pass. Still, ya could probably meet her yerself tomorrow if ya take Apple Bloom to school in the mornin’ an’ maybe get yer own opinion on her.”

John couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of meeting his son’s potential sweetheart. “Ah think ah’d like that.”

The two of them sat there in silence for awhile as they both stared at the old photo. His mind wandered to how the beautiful mare staring at him had in fact died.

“If ya don’t mind me askin’, how did my wife die?”

“Ah suppose ya wouldn’t remember that neither, would ya?” Granny Smith sighed. “It was a dozen years ago, or thereabouts. She was off takin’ some of our apples to another town, ah don’t quite remember which one no more, but it don’t really matter none. Big Mac had been buggin’ her somethin’ fierce to let him prove he wasn’t a foal no more. To this day, ah don’t understand why foals are always in such a rush to grow old, ah know from experience that it ain’t no fun, but Rosewood was convinced to let him come with her that day.

On their journey, they crossed through some real dangerous places. Rosewood warned Big Mac to stay near to her, but he didn’t listen and ran off ahead of her. He ran smack into a chimera an’ was nearly eaten up by it, but Rosewood got there in time to rescue him, tellin’ him to run home. He got back safe an’ sound thanks to her quick actions, but she didn’t make it herself.”

John reflected on how that might explain why Big Mac had been apologizing to him. He likely felt guilty over the loss of his mother, and if Rosewood’s death had something to do with Honeycrisp’s disappearance, he may feel responsible for that too.

“That’s...that’s terrible.” He stated the obvious, unsure of what else he could say in that situation.

“Yup, it sure was. We all took it real hard, but Big Mac more so than the rest of us. No matter how much we told him it wasn’t his fault, he jus’ kept blamin’ himself. Then, not even a week later, ya just up an’ vanished. Big Mac locked himself in his room after that. He’d always been a little quiet, but he flat out refused to talk to anypony at all, an’ he barely ate nothin’ neither. Ah’d leave a plate outside his door every meal, but most the time ah’d end up havin’ to throw it out. When he finally came out a month later, he looked so sickly that a breeze coulda knocked him over. We had him in an’ outta the hospital for the next month, an’ seein’ a therapist too. His body recovered, but he never did open up ‘bout it none.”

John was nearly in tears at the retelling of the painful tale. A family torn apart by tragedy, and one little boy traumatized for life by shame and guilt. It was a wonder that he had turned out as well as he did. John noted with some concern that he couldn’t be sure he had turned out well. He hadn’t exactly had much interaction with the stallion, and most of what he had was when he was incoherently drunk. How much worse off would he be if he regained the love and forgiveness of his long lost father only to learn that he was an impostor?

“How were all of ya able to keep goin’? Ah can only imagine the kind of strength ya have in that heart of yers.” Granny Smith smiled sadly at her son’s words.

“It ain’t a pretty past, but it’s ours. There ain’t no help in dwellin’ too much on it, best to jus’ keep on movin’ forward an’ tryin’ to make the best of things.”

“Ah don’t know if ah could have kept goin’ in yer place.” John admitted.

“Ah ain’t gonna lie to ya,” Granny stated, causing a pang of guilt in John’s chest, “it hurt somethin’ fierce, worse than ah can ever remember feelin’ before. Even so, ah still had yer foals to keep me company an’ to take care of, an’ the Apple family is a big one, family came outta the woodwork to help us out ‘til we was able to get back on our hooves.”

John lowered his head to avoid looking at the older mare in the eyes. He felt terrible for all these ponies had gone through.

“Ah’m sorry.” He stated mournfully. Whether he was apologizing for what they had gone through or for lying to them, he wasn’t quite sure.

“No point in bein’ sorry, as far as ah’m concerned, yer jus’ as much a victim of what happened as any of us.” John didn’t respond to his mother’s attempts to comfort him. “How ‘bout this? Ya try an’ get some more sleep before the sun comes up an’ ah’ll come wake ya up in time to see Apple Bloom to school. Ah’m sure ya will feel better in the mornin’, and ya can meet her teacher too.”

John nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alrighty then, let’s get ya back up to yer room.”

“If it’s alright with you, ah’d rather stay here. The stairs hurt my back, an’ Mac is in my bed anyway.”

“If that’s what ya want, ah’ll go fetch a blanket fer ya.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

“Yer welcome.”

John sat there in silence until his mother returned. After some fussing from her, he was tucked in warmly on the sofa. His mind went over everything he had learned this night and everything he had done since waking up as a pony. Though he wished it were otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep this night. He just lay there, listening to the sounds of night until sunrise.

Chapter 6

John Apple didn’t know how much time had passed since his mother had tucked him in on the couch, but the sun had begun to peek through the window and he could detect the scent of cinnamon wafting in from the kitchen. Careful not to aggravate his back, as he had left his pain meds in his bedroom, he crawled off of the sofa and made his way towards the kitchen, stopping to lean against the doorframe as he observed the one inside.

Applejack was humming away cheerfully as she flipped pancakes on a griddle. He smiled to himself as he watched her head swaying back and forth with the tune she produced. He recognized the melody, but couldn’t quite place where he had heard it before. It was simple, yet pleasant, and he found it quite suited his tastes. Soon he found his own head swaying in tune with his daughter's humming.

Applejack turned from the stove, a platter stacked high with pancakes held between her teeth. She paused a moment when she saw that she was being watched, but quickly continued her task of setting the food onto the table, which was already set with five plates and a bowl filled with some kind of salad.

“How long were ya standin’ there?” Applejack asked, a slight flush to her cheeks.

“A couple minutes.”

“Ya shoulda said somethin’.”

“And interrupt that beautiful song?”

Applejack’s flush deepened. “It was jus’ some hummin’.”

John’s smile widened at seeing her so flustered and suppressed a chuckle. “It was still very pretty. It sounded familiar, where’s it from?”

“Ya recognize it? Does that mean yer rememberin’ stuff?”

John shook his head. “No. Why?”

Applejack’s enthusiasm faltered. “It’s jus’ that it’s a song that Mom used to sing to us when we were little.”

John was taken aback by her answer. A song that Rosewood sang? He tried thinking back on his years in school when he had known Rosewood, for some definitions of ‘known’, he didn’t even remember talking to her once. He didn’t think he had ever heard her singing, whistling or even humming that tune back then, though he supposed it was possible he had merely forgotten what with how long ago it was. It probably didn’t matter, as he doubted that a song his Rosewood sang was likely to be completely unique to her.

“Anyway, breakfast is ready.” Applejack changed the subject. “Help yerself, ah’m gonna let the others know.”

He did as his daughter suggested and sat himself at the table. As he transferred a small stack of pancakes onto his own plate, he breathed deeply of their wondrous aroma. They smelled heavily of cinnamon and a bite into one revealed the presence of small apple chunks. They were delicious, so much so that he chose to forgo using any of the toppings that were placed on the table.

Next he inspected the salad bowl and was quite surprised by what he found. It was a mixture of roses, hay, lettuce, chunks of apple and some kind of dressing. It was the weirdest looking salad he had ever seen, and he felt rather unsure about eating it. Then again, he was a horse now, so perhaps it wasn’t all that unusual for him to eat things like roses and hay anymore. After a moment’s more hesitation, he scooped out a small pile beside his pancakes.

Just as he finished filling his plate, Applejack walked back into the kitchen with a still half asleep Apple Bloom following close behind. The younger of the two crawled onto a seat beside John and struggled to keep her eyes open and her head from falling onto her plate.

“Granny’ll be here in a minute, but ah couldn’t find Big Mac, he wasn’t in his room.”

“He’s likely still in my room.” John explained.

"What’s he doin’ in there?”

“He had a pretty rough night.” He eyed Apple Bloom as she mechanically ate the pancakes that her sister had filled her plate with moments earlier. He didn’t really want to talk about alcohol in front of her. “He’s probably still sleepin’ it off.”

Applejack stared at her father for a moment before she realized just what he was saying.

“Ah see. It’s been awhile since that’s happened.”

“What happened to Big Mac?” Apple Bloom piped up, apparently more perceptive than her zombie like demeanor would have suggested.

“Oh…uh…it’s nothin’. He’s just got a real big headache, that’s all.” Applejack answered uncomfortably.

“Huh…” Apple Bloom looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s probably from drinkin’ all that alcohol you guys keep hidden in the barn last night.”

John nearly spat out his pancakes.

“And how do ya know ‘bout that?” Applejack asked with a stern voice.

“Ah’m thirteen, do ya really expect me not to know what a hangover is?”

“Ah meant the alcohol in the barn.” Applejack’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, that. Ya’ll ain’t very good at hidin’ things.”

John held back his laughter as he watched Applejack’s surprise and indignation at her little sister’s bluntness.

“Why, if Granny Smith knew ‘bout this, she’d tan yer hide so hard ya wouldn’t be able to sit down fer a month!”

“Fer the record, sis, under yer bed ain’t a good hidin’ place neither.”

Applejack’s eyes bulged and her face lit up with a luminescent blush.

“What did she find under yer bed?” John asked, filled with morbid curiosity over what could get such a reaction from Applejack.

“Nothin!” She blatantly lied, her blush extending all the way to her ears. “Ah’m sure she found nothin’, just like ah’m sure she didn’t drink none of that alcohol she found and that Granny don’t need to know ‘bout it.”

John tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, but AJ avoided his skeptical gaze by burying her face into her plate of pancakes. He turned his attention to his younger daughter.

“What’s under Applejack’s bed?”

“Ya heard her, there’s nothin’ under her bed.” She gave an innocent smile and then she too turned her attention to her breakfast. John shrugged at his failure to solve the mystery and let the issue drop. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be any worse than the stuff he had kept hidden under his own bed when he was younger.

Conversation hushed up for awhile as everyone ate their breakfast, not even the entry of Granny Smith elicited more than the obligatory, though still cordial, greetings. Halfway through his own pancakes, John stared with a little trepidation at the salad he had on his plate. He had been skeptical of the salad from the start, so why oh why did he put any of it onto his plate? It would be awfully rude to just leave it there and even worse if he tried to put it back, so it looked like he was stuck. He had to give it a try. With a slightly wavering hoof, he raised a forkful of it to his face.

“Is somethin’ wrong?” Granny Smith asked.

“No, no, it’s fine, nothin’s wrong.” He answered.

Realizing he was being watched, he swiftly bit the bullet by biting into the amalgamation on his fork. His eyes lit up as the salad touched his tongue, and he quickly chewed through it and swallowed.

“This is really good!” He exclaimed between mouthfuls of the delicious substance.

“It sure is.” Granny Smith chuckled. “That there is Rosewood’s old recipe, ya always did love the stuff. Pretty sure she started makin' it specially to win over yer heart back when ya two first met.”

“She musta been a very smart girl, then.” He responded as he scooped a comically high pile of salad onto his plate, completely burying his forgotten pancakes and not noticing Applejack’s frown over him still not remembering her mother.

“Ah’m done.” Apple Bloom announced as she pushed her chair away from the table. “Ah’m gonna go get ready fer school now.”

“Just a moment, there.” Granny interrupted her exit. “Yer father wanted to go with ya to meet yer teacher.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes lit up and she looked over to John. “Really?” He nodded, unable to voice his affirmation with a mouth full of rose-hay salad. “That’s great! Ah’ll be right back and then we can go right away!”

John’s heart warmed at the little filly’s enthusiasm as she bounded off. By the time she came back, he was only half way through the mountain of salad he had and was already regretting his decision to take so much as he began to feel the sting of an overfilled stomach.

“Alright! Ah’m ready!”

“Yer a little early yet, ya don’t need to leave fer near half an hour.” Applejack stated in an attempt to slow her sister down.

“Normally, yeah, but ah’m goin’ with Dad this time, an’ ah wanna take our time gettin’ there.”

“That’s awfully considerate of ya, Apple Bloom, willin’ to slow down on account of yer father’s back.” Granny praised her with a warm smile.

“Huh? Oh, right! Ah jus’ wanted to spend some time talkin’ to him, but that’s a good reason too!”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Alright, but ya need to wait anyway, he’s not finished eatin’.” Apple Bloom deflated at her sister’s words. Seeing his chance to excuse himself from the monstrosity he had created on his plate, he took it.

“That’s okay, ah wouldn’t wanna disappoint her.” He cut in, and then blushed slightly as he continued. “Ah took too much anyway.”

“Okay then, if that’s what ya want. Ah’ll take care of yer dishes, go on an’ spend some time together.” Granny said as she made a shooing motion, eliciting a cheer from the excitable Apple Bloom.

“Thanks, Ma. Ah’ll see ya later. You too, Applejack.”

John followed his energetic companion out of their home. When he walked down the steps of the front porch, a lightning bolt of pain arced through his back and nearly caused him to fall over.

“Are ya okay?” A worried Apple Bloom asked.

“Ah’m fine,” he reassured her, “do ya think ya could go get my medicine fer me? It should be on the nightstand in my bedroom.”

“Sure thing!” Apple Bloom gave a little salute before rushing back inside the house.

“Try not to wake up Big Mac while yer in there!” He called out to her receding form.

“Ah won’t, ah’ll be as quiet as a mouse!” Nearly immediately after, a large crash could be heard coming from inside. “Ah’m okay!” Apple Bloom shouted at the top of her lungs.

John shook his head with a slight chuckle. That poor, hung over stallion. There was no way that he didn’t hear that. A couple of minutes later, Apple Bloom zoomed back out the front door with his pill bottle between her teeth and leaped from the porch to get to him faster.

“Thanks.” He said as he took the bottle from her and popped a couple pills into his mouth.

“Looks like ah didn’t need to worry ‘bout bein’ quiet, Big Mac was already awake when I got into yer room.” John chuckled again. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Okay!” Apple Bloom responded cheerfully, surprisingly willing to just let it go.

She began walking towards her school and John followed after her. At least, he assumed she was leading him to her school. Given his lack of knowledge of the area, she could have been leading him to an underground gambling den filled with grizzled criminals for all he knew. Not that he expected she would be involved in anything of the sort. At least he hoped she wasn’t.

“Is it true ya don’t remember me?” Apple Bloom interrupted his thoughts with an armour piercing question.

“It’s true,” he sighed, “ah don’t remember you, yer siblings, or much of anythin', really.”

“Hmm…that’s okay!” She announced in a shockingly jovial tone. “Ah don’t remember ya neither. We can get to know each other like new friends!”

John marvelled at her positive outlook on the situation. He had been worried that she might hold some resentment like her sister seemed to, but instead she took it in stride. He could probably stand to learn a thing or two from her.

“Ah guess I should say somethin’ ‘bout myself…uhh….well, ah’m Apple Bloom, but ah guess ya already know that much. Me an’ my friends, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, make up the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders?” He parroted in confusion.

“Yup!” She affirmed, coming to a stop and indicating a patch of fur on her flank where most ponies had a picture of something. “We’re always crusadin’ to find our special talents so we can get our cutie marks!”

“Oh..ah see.” He answered as they continued their journey, still a little confused at the concept. “What sort of things do ya get up to?”

“Everythin’! We’ve tried dancin’, martial arts, bakin’, swimmin’, arts and crafts, talent shows, campin’…we got covered in tree sap from that one.”

John was legitimately impressed and a little envious. He had been a rather anti-social kid and hadn’t had much opportunity to do things with friends like she seemed to be doing. It sounded like they had racked up an impressive list of activities. Before he could comment on it, she continued.

“Rock climbin’, mountain climbin’, knife sharpenin’, jugglin’, bungee jumpin’, bull fightin’… the cows made us apologize to the bull fer that one.”

John blinked at the growing list. This was starting to sound dangerous.

“Makin’ fireworks, settin’ up fireworks displays, tight rope walkin’, fire eatin’, snake charmin’, lion tamin’, makin’ hang gliders, hang gliding…we ended up covered in tree sap from that one.”

John’s jaw dropped at their increasingly dangerous feats.

“Uh…ah don’t know what to say. Wait…ah thought it was campin’ that got ya covered in sap, not hang glidin’.”

“Campin’ was the first time we got covered in sap, hang glidin’ was the third! An’ despite all the stuff we’ve done, we still don’t have our cutie marks!”

“W..well, ah’m sure ya’ll get em soon. Meanwhile, jus’ be careful an’ stay safe.”

“We’re always careful!” She assured him cheerfully, which did little to allay his concerns. He decided that he would have to have a talk with Granny Smith about her escapades later.

Apple Bloom spent the rest of their trip talking first about the adventures the Cutie Mark Crusaders went on in excruciatingly terrifying detail, and secondly about the adventures that Applejack had gone on with her own circle of friends. It seemed impossible to believe all the things that Applejack had done. If it really was true and not just exaggeration from a little sister that idolized her, she had rescued Equestria from some sort of powerful moon creature, a spirit of chaos and an army of invading bug monsters that could take on the form of your loved ones. Applejack’s adventures made her sister’s look like relaxing walks in the park by comparison.

As the conversation continued, a small schoolhouse slowly crawled up in the distance. Several foals could be seen running about and playing on the playground. As they got closer, a pair of young fillies rushed over to intercept Apple Bloom.

“Hello, Apple Bloom!” The first one greeted. She was a pretty little unicorn with a white coat and a purple and pink mane.

“Hey there, what’s up?” The second one added her own much more tomboyish voice. She was an orange Pegasus with a purple mane. “Is this your dad that you were talking about?”

“Yup!” Apple Bloom answered proudly.

“We tried to meet you yesterday, but Granny Smith said you were asleep.” The white one explained. “My name’s Sweetie Belle!”

“And I’m Scootaloo!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed his head in greeting.

While the three excitedly spoke to each other, mostly about him, he couldn’t help but remember all the stories of their crusading. Did their parents know what they were doing in their spare time? And if they did, why hadn’t they done something about it?

“So wait… you mean to tell me that he has somnesia?” Scootaloo asked.

“Amnesia.” Sweetie Belle corrected, eliciting an eye roll from her friend.

“Yeah, that.”

“Yup!” Apple Bloom confirmed.

“Do you think we could get our cutie marks in fixing his memory?”

The filly trio, all in unison, turned their gaze to John. It was a very uncomfortable experience for him. He felt a very sudden urge to run away.

“Cutie Mark Crusader memory fixers!” They shouted together at the top of their lungs, nearly deafening him.

“Any crusading you three do will have to wait until after school.” A new voice announced, eliciting a three part harmony of disappointed groans from the fillies and filling John with relief over the reprieve he had just been given.

Turning to find the source of his saviour’s voice, he was met with a pinkish purple mare with neither horn nor wings. A kind smile was upon her lips and three smiling flowers greeted the world from her flank.

“Hello there, sir. I’m Cheerilee, the local school teacher. Given the resemblance to Apple Bloom’s brother, would it be safe to assume you are a relative of hers?”

“Hi there, ah’m…Honeycrisp.” He answered, pausing very briefly to stop himself from calling himself John. He wrestled with his conscience by pointing out to himself that it wasn’t really lying, Honeycrisp really was his nickname.

“He’s my dad!” Apple Bloom cheerfully added.

“Your father?” Cheerilee’s face scrunched up. “The same one that disappeared in the Everfree Forest?”

John blinked a couple of times as he tried to remember if he had been told at any point in time that he had gone missing in the Everfree Forest, but found he couldn’t. He had only ever been told that he had gone missing, the where had never been revealed to him. Looking down to Apple Bloom revealed a face nearly as perplexed as his own.

“Where’d ya hear that he went missin’ in the Everfree?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Big Mac told me.”

“That’s funny, he never told me that.” Her face twisted into a displeased frown.

“Maybe ya jus’ weren’t told on account of yer age.” He suggested.

“Nu uh! Granny told me everythin’, she didn’t leave nothin’ out!”

“How would ya know if she didn’t tell ya somethin’?”

“She told me that Mom was eaten by a chimera," Apple Bloom deadpanned, "ah don’t think she would have kept where ya went missin’ secret from me if she told me that.”

John had to admit, it would seem silly to tell her the horrifying details of how Rosewood died only to keep something so tame from her a secret. He had to conclude that Granny Smith didn’t know either.

“Okay, I have two questions.” Cheerilee interrupted. “First, you don’t know what happened to you?”

“He lost his memory, there’s a lot o’ things he don’t remember.” Apple Bloom answered for him.

“Okay, next question: do you mean to say that Big Mac never told his own family about what happened?”

“Nope, he’s been real quiet ‘bout it.”

Cheerilee’s face darkened. “Well then, he and I are going to have a talk about keeping these kinds of secrets from those who really need to know them.” A bell from the school rang, indicating that classes were soon to begin. “After school is finished of course.”

She shooed the foals off towards the building.

“I’ll come by the farm after school is out. I’m sure that Big Mac will be delighted to fill you in on details he has thus far omitted.”

“Ah appreciate that, Miss Cheerilee.” Even if it didn’t matter too horribly much to him what happened, since it hadn’t actually been him, the rest of the family deserved to know.

“Just Cheerilee is fine.” She replied with a smile, her prior anger having vanished entirely.

“Ya must be real close to Big Mac fer him to open up to ya like that, seein’ how he never even told his family.”

Cheerilee blushed furiously. “Oh, umm….we’re just friends, I assure you.” She denied that which he had implied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

John grinned as Cheerilee trotted off to the school house just a little bit faster than was necessary. She may have denied it, but that blush was telling him a different story. If she and Big Mac weren’t a couple yet, then he doubted it would be long before that changed. Ma was right, too, she seemed a very good mare and he’d be glad to have her as part of the family. A family that wasn’t really his.

His grin vanished as he began his return trip home. He had thought that these ponies were just figments of his imagination, but the more time he spent here, the more he questioned that assumption. He had never been the smartest or most imaginative of guys, so he found it increasingly difficult to believe that his mind was creative enough to have come up with all of this. If they were real, then he was running the risk of severely hurting them with his continued lies. No matter how much it would hurt him to lose his new found family, they deserved to know the truth before they had a chance to get too attached to the lies.

With an ache in his heart to match the one in his back, he resolved himself to tell them all before the day was through.

Chapter 7

Applejack was stepping off the front porch just as John arrived back home after getting lost twice on his way back and being forced to ask the local mail mare for directions.

“Where’re ya goin’?” He asked. She stared at him a moment before she answered.

“Ah’m goin’ out with my friends.”

“Oh...well, have fun.”

“Ah’ll try.” She forced a smile and then trotted off.

John idly wondered when she would be back. He wanted to come clean about not being Honeycrisp to the entire family at once rather than having to go through a confession multiple times. Since he already had to wait for Apple Bloom to get back from school, he figured it probably would be fine if he had to wait for Applejack’s return too.

He made his way into the house, glad to see his pain meds doing their job when he didn’t feel any more pain than normal walking up the front steps. As he gazed into the picture laden living room, he realized just how much time he had to kill before his family was reunited for the day.

His walk to the school and back, not to mention through half the town while lost, had tired him out considerably. He could have sworn he was in better shape than that. Maybe the medication had the side effect of drowsiness. Whether that was true or not, he didn’t think he was in any condition right now to go doing anything overly physical while he waited. Perhaps it would be a good time to speak with Granny Smith about Apple Bloom’s overly dangerous hobbies.

It didn’t take long to find her. She was inside the kitchen, working away at the stove and with several jars lining the counter tops alongside several spices and a large pile of apples.

“Hey there, Ma. Can ah talk to ya?”

She looked away from her work. “Hmm? Sure can. Ah’m jus’ makin’ some apple butter to sell at the market later. What can ah do fer ya?”

“Well...ah was talkin’ to Apple Bloom on the way to her school, an’ she told me ‘bout the things she an’ her friends have been gettin’ up to.”

Granny chuckled as she cut up an apple and tossed it into the pot. “Yeah, those three are quite the hoof full. Reminds me of when ah was a little filly.”

“Right...uhh...so ya know the kind of things they get up to?”

“Sure do.” Granny confirmed.

“Don’t they seem a mite bit too dangerous fer kids to be doin’?”

The old mare snorted. “Nope.”

John blinked in surprise. How could she possibly think these things weren’t dangerous? She told him that they had gone hang gliding, probably with hang gliders they themselves had made! They were setting up fireworks displays! That kind of stuff causes people to lose limbs!

“But...they’re doin’ some real dangerous stuff! They could get hurt!” He tried to argue. Granny looked away from the pot of slowly cooking apples and raised an eyebrow.

“That’s jus’ like parents nowadays. They’re all far too worried ‘bout their foals an’ end up smotherin’ em. Back in my day ah got up to far worse than anythin’ those three could ever think of and ah turned out jus’ fine. Better than fine, even!”

“But, they’re doin’ things like bull fightin’!”

“A bull can tell em to stop an’ has the brains not to hurt little fillies. When ah was their age, ah tried teachin’ a timber wolf to do tricks fer a talent show, an’ let me tell you, there ain’t no teachin’ a timber wolf to do nothin’ other than tryin’ to eat ya!”

John’s jaw dropped. His family seemed to be filled with a bunch of crazy people!

"Why would ya go do a fool thing like that?"

"Ah told ya, to win a talent show."

“That's crazy!"

"Sure was." Granny hummed to herself happily as she reminisced on her youth.

John paused as he scraped his brain for how to respond to that. "What happened?”

“Ah lost.” Granny answered simply.

That wasn’t what he had meant, but he really didn’t want to keep this conversation going as it was giving him a headache. He was too tired to deal with this, but he wasn’t going to give up, he was just going to go for a tactical retreat. Once he was feeling better and had time to rearm himself, he would be going in for another attack. That is, he would if he wasn’t turned out by his ‘family’ once he revealed that he wasn’t really one of them.

“Fine. Ah’m gonna go lie down fer a bit.”

"Ah’ll talk to ya later, then.” Granny waved him off as she continued with her cooking.

John wandered back into the living room. He was glad he had taken the couch in there as his new bed as something about being watched by the countless eyes on the wall comforted him. Some might find such an environment to be unsettling, but for him it gave the warm sensation of not being alone. He didn’t think he could spend the entire time he needed to wait for the others to get home simply browsing the photos on the walls, though. His eyes wandered until they landed on a bookshelf tucked away in the corner of the room.

The books on the shelf were lined with dust, evidently having not been used very often. He surmised that if the others did much reading, they probably kept their own books somewhere else. He had never been too big on reading himself. The stories just all seemed too unrealistic to him and rarely could hold his interest. Regardless, he didn’t have anything better to do that his back wouldn’t stop him from doing, so he picked one at random and lied down on his couch to read it.

It was a story of a pirate, it seemed, and the adventures he went on, or at least that's what the blurb on the back told him. It was an incredibly romanticized version of piracy that portrayed the character of Black Mane and his entire crew as noble, honourable ponies instead of violent criminals. To be honest, it bored him. Like with most books, he just couldn’t get invested in it. As he kept forcing himself to drudge through it, his eyelids, heavy from having been up since the middle of the night, began to droop. It wasn’t long before he nodded off to sleep.

He awoke with a start at a vigorous rapping on the front door. He noted that someone had drawn the blanket on his couch over him while he slept, probably his mother, as the door opened and Cheerilee and Apple Bloom entered.

“We don’t really need to knock, ah live here.” Apple Bloom complained.

“Even so, I do not and it’s only polite to do so.” Cheerilee patiently explained to the annoyed filly. “Hello, Mister Honeycrisp, I apologize if I woke you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Ah was jus’...readin’.” He noted that the book he had attempted to get through had slipped to the floor, so he scooped it up and waved it about to support his claim.

“A commendable hobby. Apple Bloom would do well to learn from your example.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes at her teacher’s words.

“Who’s that at the door?” The arrival of Granny Smith was preceded by her voice. Upon seeing the answer to her question, she hobbled on over to her guest to give her a friendly hug. “Why if it ain’t Cheerilee! What brings ya to our neck o’ the woods?”

Cheerilee returned the old mare’s hug with warmth to spare. “Actually, Big Mac is the reason for my visit.”

“Is he now?” Granny gave a sly wink to Honeycrisp, not making any effort to hide it from Cheerilee. “Well, he’s in the barn doin’ some chores. Ah’m sure he’d be right pleased to see ya. Ah’ll be sure to let you young uns have a little alone time together.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she quickly cut in, “my business affects all of the Apple family and as such, you should come with me.”

“An’ what could that possibly be? Perhaps ya’ve got an announcement to make? Should ah be callin’ on Pinkie Pie fer her services?” Granny’s lips curled into a teasing smile.

“Whatever you’re assuming is between me and him, I assure you, you are incorrect. He and I are just good friends.” She stated with exasperation and a slight blush.

“Yeah...real good friends.” Apple Bloom muttered under her breath, something which Cheerilee chose to ignore.

“Alright, alright, if ya wanna keep yer feelin’s hidden then ah guess it’s none o’ my business. Jus’ keep in mind, Big Mac is a handsome young stallion. If ya don’t act sometime soon, some other mare is like to swoop in an‘ take him from ya.” Cheerilee opened her mouth to object but was cut off by Granny’s continued speech. “Now if it ain’t bout that, what’s all this fuss about?”

“Big Mac’s been keepin’ somethin’ ‘bout Dad’s disappearance from us, somethin’ that he told Miss Cheerilee.” Apple Bloom answered.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Had I known he hadn’t told you what he told me, I would have made him do so sooner. Is Applejack around? She should hear this too.”

Granny shook her head. “She went out with her friends awhile ago an’ probably won’t be back fer awhile yet.”

“Then you’ll just have to tell her later. I don’t have time to wait for her to return as I have school work to grade.”

The four of them made their way out to the barn. Big Macintosh stopped what he was doing to watch them come in, greeting them with a nervous smile. As John’s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the building, he spied a conspicuous looking pile of hay that was not quite fully covering a crate of bottles in the corner. Apple Bloom was right, they were terrible at hiding things.

“Big Macintosh Apple!” Cheerilee scolded him as if he were one of her students that she had just caught cheating on a test. Big Mac let out an audible gulp, not sure what he had done to earn her wrath but no less uncomfortable for that lack of knowledge.

“Hello, Cheerilee.”

“Is it true? You never told your own family what you told me about your father?” She asked, her brow and eyes knit into an accusing stare. Big Mac’s eyes widened with panic as he looked between the angry and curious faces before him.

“Is. It. True?” Cheerilee asked again, punctuating each word for emphasis. Big Mac finally nodded his head meekly, eliciting a disappointed sigh from the mare accusing him. “When you said you hadn’t told anypony but me, I thought you just meant anypony outside of your family. Why didn’t you tell them?”

Big Mac hung his head with shame. “Ah...ah was scared. At first ah thought they’d hate me fer what ah did, and then later ah thought they’d hate me fer not tellin’ em sooner too.”

Granny Smith walked up to her grandson as he sat there, a pitiable wreck on the verge of tears, and put a comforting hoof upon his shoulder.

“Yer family, we couldn’t possibly hate ya, no matter what ya did.”

“That’s right!” John added his own support of his mother’s words. “Ah don’t know what ya did, but it don’t matter none. A father ain’t gonna stop lovin’ his son just cause ya made some mistakes.”

“Uh...yeah, what they said!” Apple Bloom piped in, clearly feeling the need to not be the only Apple to not comfort her brother.

“Do you think you could tell them what happened now?” Cheerilee asked quietly.

Big Macintosh looked up from the floor at her and nodded.

It had been nearly a week since Rosewood had died and the entire Apple family was still reeling from their loss. Macintosh, who had yet to grow large enough to earn the title of ‘Big’, had thought he was done crying over his mother’s death. He had promised himself he wouldn’t do it anymore. Big boys weren’t supposed to cry. He had stayed home from school for the past several days as he mourned. He thought he had gotten all his crying out during that time. Then he went back to school.

The other foals didn’t mean him any harm, mostly, but they had still swarmed him out of curiosity and buried him under a barrage of questions. He was forced to relive everything, but had been able to keep in stern control of his tears until near the end. Just as their teacher, old Mr Chalk Dust, put a stop to their questions, one last little filly pointed out something in stark contrast to what his family had kept on telling him this past week.

“Doesn’t that mean it’s your fault that your mom is dead?”

The dam holding back his tears crumbled in an instant, and they flowed down his face like tiny rivers. His head sagged so that he stared at the floor and his entire body quivered violently.

“She didn’t mean that, don't take her words to heart.” Chalk Dust tried to reassure the crying colt, but Macintosh backed away from him as he approached. Before the old stallion could do anything else, Mac turned tail and fled the school house, ignoring the worried shouts of his teacher.

He ran all the way back home, that filly’s words cycling through his head along with the image of his mother telling him to run as she placed herself between him and a monstrous chimera, it was the final memory he had of her. That filly was right. It was entirely his fault that his mother was dead. Had he not been born, she would still be alive right now. He barrelled through the familiar front door of his family farmhouse home, ignored the sudden outcry of his father inside and charged straight for his room, where he threw himself onto his bed and cried ceaselessly into his pillow.

The sound of his bedroom door creaking open announced the entrance of another pony. Based on the heavy hoofsteps, it was clearly his father, Honeycrisp Apple. Macintosh flinched as a large hoof was placed on his back, but relaxed when it began to rub him in a comforting manner. He looked up with trembling lips to the large red stallion with the slightly greying mane.

“It’s all my fault!” Mac wailed. “If it weren’t fer me, Mum....” An outpouring of fresh tears streamed down the colt’s face as his voice caught in his throat. He buried his face back into his pillow, too ashamed of himself to look his father in the eye anymore.

“Shhh. It ain’t yer fault. We know ya didn’t mean fer it to happen.” Honeycrisp comforted him with a soothing voice. “Ain’t nopony blames ya.”

Macintosh didn’t respond, he just kept weeping into his pillow while his father kept on rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him. Eventually, the distraught child’s sobs faded as he cried himself to sleep.

When Macintosh awoke, he groggily crawled from beneath the covers. His father, currently nowhere to be seen, must have tucked him in while he slept. The late afternoon sun peeked through his window, indicating that he had missed school today. It didn’t matter, though.

He didn’t care what his father had told him. His mother’s death was all his fault. Had he not been around, she’d be fine right now and he was certain that his family knew it too. His presence only caused pain and he was determined to fix that. He couldn’t cause any more pain if he was no longer around.

He made his way into the kitchen and placed a piece of cloth onto the floor. He piled food from the fridge onto its centre and tied the corners together, forming a makeshift bag. He lifted it with his teeth and exited the front door, careful to avoid running into any of his family. He went to the wood shed where they kept the branches from their trees that they had trimmed or had simply fallen of their own accord and picked out a suitable one to tie his supplies to. The end was a little sharp, but as long as he was careful it shouldn’t be a problem. With his bindle properly assembled and filled with food, he was ready to leave.

Where would he go, though? He had to go somewhere where his family wouldn’t find him so that he wouldn’t be forced to go back home where he could only hurt them. They’d surely find him if he went anywhere in Ponyville and even if they didn’t, surely those in town would recognize him and bring him back themselves. Canterlot was possible, but he didn’t have any money for the train, so he’d have to walk. It probably wouldn’t be the best choice, either, as any royal guards that saw a lone colt wandering about would undoubtedly apprehend him and try to find his parents. It had to be a place that nopony went, and the only one that came to mind was the Everfree Forest. Ponies kept saying that it was a dangerous place, but it was just a bunch of trees, right? He’d spent his entire life surrounded by trees, how bad could it be? With a proper destination in mind, he set off, skirting the edge of town as he didn’t want to be caught before he could get away.

Looking at the forest from its edge didn’t reveal anything about why everypony seemed so scared of the place. It seemed to have a calm, relaxing atmosphere. Cheery birds filled the air with their song, it hardly seemed a place of foreboding. Reassuring himself once again that they were just trees to ward off the warnings that permeated his mind, he delved into the Everfree Forest.

Before long, the songbirds that had been brightening the atmosphere disappeared, leaving an eerie silence only broken by the sound of him forcing his way through the underbrush, which scratched his legs and left assorted bits of plant matter stuck in his fur. A more literal brightness had also faded, as the canopy above had thickened to the point of blocking out much of the sunlight.

Macintosh began to question his decision, though not so much as to turn around just yet. Regardless of his nervousness, the fact still remained that he was a curse upon his family and needed to get away from them, for their sake if not his own. As he continued, the silence was further broken by other noises of the forest, most of which he couldn’t recognize. His ears swivelled towards every movement he convinced himself he had seen in the brush surrounding him, and he flinched every time he heard something moving about nearby. He could have sworn that he had heard the forest calling out his name and trembled in fear over what manner of monster was doing so.

It was as he was looking off to his side towards an ominously swaying branch that he walked face first into something big and hard. With a yelp, he nearly dropped his bindle and gazed in horror at what he had hit. It had a long snout filled with razor sharp fangs, was a little taller than he was, looked to be made of wood and was staring right at him. Had the lighting been better, or had he been brave enough to take a second look, he may have noticed that it had been frozen in stone and couldn’t harm anything anymore, but he was terrified and could barely control himself.

He screamed at the top of his lungs and ran in a direction away from the monster that scared him so. Something howled out his name and crashed through the forest behind him loudly enough for him to hear over his own noisy flight. He could only imagine that predator as the source of both noises, which spurred him on even faster.

Macintosh spotted a light ahead and rushed straight for it, hoping to find an exit from this forsaken forest. He burst into the bright light only to be faced with a cliff, barely managing to stop before going hurtling over the edge. The thing that chased after him drew closer, there was no time to find a safe way down. He set himself beside the opening he had created and gripped the handle of his bindle, prepared to strike at the creature once it showed its terrifying face.

At the precise moment he detected something bursting through the opening, he swung as hard as his little body could manage. He noticed only too late that the figure that had come from the trees was that of his father. Honeycrisp raised a hoof to shield himself from the blow and grunted in pain as the end of the stick struck him. The strike was enough to knock the stallion off balance and caused him to stumble towards the edge of the cliff.

“Dad!” Mac shouted in terror as he watched his father tumble over the edge. His chest tightened as the older pony struck the branch of a sizeable tree on his way down with a sickening crunch. Moments later, he was on the ground far below. A group of small, purple, glowing winged creatures buzzed about in irritation at the sudden intrusion into their grove beneath him.

Macintosh began to hyperventilate. His father couldn’t be dead. He had to have survived that fall. There was no way that he could have killed both of his parents!

He hastily searched for a safe way down to reach him. Hidden into the side of the cliff several meters away was a pathway leading down. It wasn’t a very big path, nor was it the easiest to traverse, but it allowed him to get down. He lost sight of his father as he descended but, as long as he could reach him, he didn’t care.

As he neared the bottom, he was startled by a sudden flash of purple light which caused him to lose his footing and fall the rest of the way down. It wasn’t a great distance at that point, but it was still enough to knock the wind from his lungs and disorient him a few moments, and he’d likely suffer a few bruises for his troubles later too. He staggered back to his hooves and rushed to the place he had last seen his father.

Macintosh froze as he turned the corner. Honeycrisp Apple was nowhere to be seen. All that was there were a few fluttering, purple creatures and a small pool of blood.

Chapter 8

Applejack knocked on the door of Golden Oaks Library where her friend, Twilight Sparkle, lived. The library was carved out of the interior of a great, big tree, hardly a practical way to construct a building, but it left a considerable impact on those who saw it. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal Twilight Sparkle.

“There you are, Applejack! You’re late!”

“Sorry ‘bout that, Twi, ah had a lot o’ chores to do today.”

“I understand, we all have jobs to do, though some could stand to take their own a little more seriously.”

Applejack chuckled as the image of a blue, rainbow maned pegasus entered her mind. Rainbow Dash certainly could do with some better work ethic, half the time that mare was napping on the very clouds she was supposed to be clearing.

“Anyway, the others are all here already, come in!”

Applejack followed Twilight inside the building. As she had said, all of her friends were already present. The ever well groomed white unicorn, Rarity, was sipping politely from a cup of tea as she spoke with Fluttershy. The timid, yellow pegasus was nodding along with a quiet smile to the gossip that she was hearing. Pinkie Pie was at the snack table, shovelling more sweets into her mouth than most ponies would eat in a month. Rainbow Dash, ever eager to show off her newest stunt routines, was soaring through the limited airspace of the library, doing weaves, dives, dips, flips and loop de loops in a marvellous display of her abilities as a flyer. Applejack only saw the tail end of her performance as she, perhaps inevitably, crashed head first into one of the myriad of bookshelves and was buried beneath a cascade of falling books.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight shouted at her reckless friend. Said friend’s head popped out from beneath the mountain of now misplaced books.

“What’s up, Twilight?” The rainbow framed face asked nonchalantly.

“What did I say about doing your flying stunts in the library?”

“I dunno. You kinda rambled on for awhile there, so I stopped listening.”

Twilight ears twitched furiously as she spoke through gritted teeth. “I said don’t do it!”

“Really? Why’d you talk my ear off last time if all you wanted to say was to not do it?”

“I...just...argh! Forget it!” Twilight trotted to the stairs leading to the second floor. “Spike!”

“Yes, Twilight?” A small, purple, baby dragon stepped out from a door near the top of the steps.

“I’m going to need you to help clean up this mess Rainbow made.”

Spike’s nose wrinkled with disappointment. “Shouldn’t she clean up her own mess?”

“Normally I’d agree, but there’s no way that she’d follow my system for categorizing books and I am not going to stand for an improperly sorted library.”

“She’s totally right, I’d just shove them back on at random.” Rainbow exclaimed in an oddly proud tone, earning a glare from Twilight.

“But I was about to read the new issue of Power Ponies! Can’t I do it later? Besides, Rainbow is probably just going to make another mess anyway.”

“Fine, but if I end up having to clean this mess up by myself again, then you won’t be getting any gems for a month.”

Spike shuddered at the threat as he walked back through the door from whence he came. “Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”

“Now that we’re all here, perhaps you would be so kind as to let us know what this big announcement of yours is.” Rarity requested of Twilight.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Is it about that pony you found outside the Everfree yesterday?!” Pinkie Pie bounced towards Twilight, eager to get an answer.

“There was a pony near the Everfree?” Fluttershy cut in with a concerned tone. “Are they okay?”

Applejack fidgeted nervously over the direction that the conversation was taking, but bit her lip and kept quiet.

“Yes, it is about that pony, and he’s fine...mostly. His back is injured, but he should recover.”

“Yes! I knew there was a new pony in town!” Pinkie jumped into the air and pumped a hoof in excitement only to quickly restrain herself. “I mean no, it’s terrible that he’s hurt! I know! I’ll throw him a huge Welcome to Ponyville and Sorry About Your Back Being Hurt party!” Her temporary restraint faded as she dragged out her party cannon and blasted the entire room with confetti, adding to the mess that Spike would need to clean later.

“Calm down, Pinkie, you can only throw him a party if he’s feeling well enough for one.” Twilight chastised her pink friend.

“Fiiiiine.”

“Anyway, I didn’t invite you all here just to say that I found some random pony, what really matters is who he is.”

“Oooo! Is he a celebrity?!” Pinkie shouted excitedly, clearly ignoring Twilight’s request to calm down.

“Is it a Wonderbolt?” Rainbow Dash asked as she finally finished pulling herself out of the book pile.

“Or maybe it’s the editor of a world famous fashion magazine looking for up and coming designers to showcase in his next issue!” Rarity piped in with her own guess and then proceeded to stare off dreamily into the distance as she imagined the possibilities.

“No, no, nothing like that!” Twilight swiftly dismissed all of her friends’ speculations and moved to stand next to Applejack. “His name is Honeycrisp Apple, and he’s Applejack’s long lost father!”

Pinkie Pie gasped theatrically. “Is that really true? Oh my gosh! That’s amazing!”

Applejack gave a weak smile. “Yup, ah guess it is.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, Applejack, you don’t seem nearly as happy as one would expect of a pony who had just been reunited with their father.” Rarity observed. “Whatever is the matter?”

“It’s nothin’.” Applejack denied, though was unable to meet Rarity’s gaze as she did so.

“Don’t give me that, you’re the worst liar I know.” Rainbow Dash stated bluntly.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were happy about this?” Twilight asked, her brow etched with concern.

“Ah was, at first at any rate.”

“Then what happened to change your mind?” Twilight pressed.

“Well...he says he don’t remember none of us ‘cept fer Granny.”

“Oh dear...that must be terrible for you.” Fluttershy gasped.

“Ah admit that it hurts to have yer father not recognize ya, but ah could get over that. He’s nice enough an’ all an’ ah wanna give him a chance, but...” Applejack trailed off.

“But what, darling?” Rarity asked. Applejack took a moment to organize her thoughts before answering.

“But ah get the feelin’ that he’s hidin’ something from us. Any time we talk ‘bout his past, he gets all nervous. Ah think he’s lyin’ to us ‘bout not knowin’ where he’s been.”

“Do you think he’s doing it maliciously?” Twilight asked.

AJ’s face scrunched up as she thought on it. “Ah’m not sure, but ah don’t think so. He seems to really care ‘bout us and hasn’t done nothin’ too bad. Ah have a hard time thinkin’ of him as a bad pony.”

“Maybe he’s a changeling! They could totally look like your father and be trying to suck out all your love!” Rainbow Dash suggested eagerly.

As Applejack winced at Dash's words, Rarity and Twilight both glared at her as if to say ‘you’re not helping.’

“What?” Rainbow shrunk beneath their combined anger. “I just thought it would be awesome to go another round with the changelings.”

“Ah hadn’t thought ‘bout that. Ah suppose it might explain his spotty memory, and why he’d keep his past from us. But no, why would a changelin’ pretend to be my father an’ say he don’t know who we are? It jus’ don’t make a lick o’ sense.” Applejack sighed. “Ah jus’ wish he trusted me enough to tell me what he’s been hidin’.”

“Have you tried asking him?” Pinkie Pie stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah beg yer pardon?”

“You said you don’t think he’s hiding stuff to be mean and that he’s a nice pony, right? Well then, shouldn’t you just ask him?”

“Ah...uh...” Applejack stammered as she processed the simplicity of the suggestion. “Ah hadn’t thought ‘bout that, either.” She admitted with a blush.

“Well then, let’s go! You can ask him and I can meet your father!” Pinkie Pie suggested, trotting happily to the door.

“Yeah, ah think that’s a good idea.” Applejack agreed as she too began to leave, though she was blocked off by Rainbow Dash.

“Hold it!” Dash screeched. “What if he really is a changeling?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not a changeling, Dash.” Twilight tried to argue.

“But what if he is?” She argued right back. “I’m not letting you confront him without me!”

“I for one would love to meet Applejack’s father,” Rarity chimed in as she stared irritably at Dash, “I’m sure he’s a perfect gentlecolt and not a changeling.”

“Umm...I’d like to come too, if that’s okay.” Fluttershy added in barely above a whisper.

“I think all of us want to be there to support you, Applejack.” Twilight Sparkle stated.

A smile broke out on AJ’s face as she looked between her friends’ eager faces.

“Thanks, y’all.”

“After spendin’ most the rest o’ the day tryin’ to find him, ah realized he was gone an’ it was my fault. Ah ran back home an’ locked myself up in my bedroom where ah couldn’t hurt nopony no more. Y’all know the rest.” Big Macintosh finished his tale and took to staring forlornly at the hay covered floor.

“There, now you all know what I do.” Cheerilee addressed the Apple family as a whole and then specifically Big Mac with her next words. “Doesn’t it feel better now that you’ve gotten all that off of your chest?”

“Nope.” Big Mac sulked, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone else in the barn.

“Ya shouldn’t feel so bad, Big Mac.” Granny Smith attempted to comfort him. “It was an accident. ‘Sides, yer father came back and he’s fine, ya didn’t kill him or nothin’.”

John swallowed the lump that had developed in his throat. Big Mac had just come clean over a secret he had held for a dozen years, one that he was afraid his family would hate him for having kept hidden for so long, much like he himself feared would happen if he kept his own secret much longer. He couldn’t let them go on believing the lie, not when this stallion had just demonstrated such courage of his own through admitting the truth. He cleared his throat in an effort to gain their attention.

“Ah have somethin’ ah need to tell y’all too.”

“Hmm? Did Big Mac’s story cause ya to remember somethin’?”

“Uhh...not exactly, no.” John fidgeted nervously.

“Well don’t keep us in suspense! Out with it!” Granny Smith encouraged.

“Not yet.” John shook his head. “Ah want the whole family to hear this.”

“So we gotta wait fer Applejack?” Apple Bloom asked with a hint of disappointment.

“No need to wait on my account.”

John nearly jumped out of his skin at the intrusive voice of Applejack. The entire assembly of ponies turned to see her trotting into the barn, and she wasn’t alone. With her were five other mares of varying colour. The last one to enter, a particularly well groomed white unicorn mare, looked as uncomfortable in the barn as she was out of place. With each step she placed her hoof very carefully so to avoid stepping in anything unpleasant.

“How long were ya standin’ there?” John asked.

“Long enough to hear a good chunk o’ Big Mac’s story.”

“Ya shoulda said somethin’!” He complained.

Applejack smirked. “Not so fun on the other hoof, is it?”

“Hold on jus’ a minute, what are y'all doin’ in my barn?”

“We’re here to provide back up for Applejack!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed in a surprisingly unhelpful manner.

“Uhh...what?” Apple Bloom asked in confusion.

“Speak for yourself, Dashie! I’m here to make a new friend!” The purely pink pony bounced over to John, grabbed his hoof with her own and shook it vigorously. “Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie! What’s your name? Is it Honeycrisp, or something else that's more bug like?”

“What?” John echoed Apple Bloom’s previous sentiment as it was all he could think to say at the incredibly unusual question. What could she possibly mean by bug like?

“I need to know what name to put on your cake!” She answered with a big, friendly grin.

Before John could react, the pink pony was dragged off by the tail thanks to a blue and rainbow Pegasus.

“So...” Applejack spoke up again, absently kicking at some loose hay on the floor and avoiding eye contact. “Ya were sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout havin’ somethin’ to tell us?” She took a deep breath to steady herself and forced herself to lock eyes with him. “Well, ah have some questions ah want to ask ya, too.”

John felt warning bells going off in his head, he may have waited too long already. “If it’s okay with ya, ah’d like to go first.”

Applejack nodded her assent, and John took his own steadying breath in preparation for the bombshell he was about to drop.

“Ah’m not really yer father.”

Silence fell over the barn as everybody processed his confession. Several jaws dropped at this news.

“Ya admit it jus’ like that?” Applejack broke the silence when she finally found her voice again.

“Yes. Ah’m not Honeycrisp Apple.”

“Not...Dad?” Apple Bloom said in an uncertain tone, more a statement of disbelief than a question. John stepped over to the little filly and put an oversized hoof on her shoulder.

“Look now, jus’ cause ah ain’t yer real father don’t mean ah care ‘bout ya any different. Y’all are very dear to me, an’ ah love every last one of ya.”

“Hold on one darn tootin’ moment!” Granny Smith interrupted with an ornery shout. “Not my Honeycrisp? Hogwash! Ah looked yer body over an’ found all manner o’ markings that only my son would have!”

“Are you a changeling?” The rainbow maned pegasus had zipped in front of John, nearly knocking Apple Bloom over in the process, earning a glare from several of the ponies in the barn, and started accosting him before he could respond to Granny’s objections. “’Cause I’m ready to go another round with you freaks any time!”

“Hold up, Dash.” AJ interrupted. “He admitted he ain’t my father, he deserves a chance to finish explainin’ himself.” With a dissatisfied grunt, Dash backed off, though she continued to glare at John.

“Thank you, Applejack.” John smiled at her, a gesture which she at least made an effort to return, even if it didn’t look all that natural. “Honestly, fer the longest time, ah thought ah was jus’ dreamin’ all this up. Everythin’ that’s happened these last couple days jus’ seemed so unbelievable.”

“You’re stalling.” Dash declared. “If you’re not AJ’s dad, then who are you?”

“Ah’m John Apple. Ah’m a farmer with no family to call my own, an’ ah’m not really a pony.”

“Not a pony? Are you really a changeling, then? It would certainly explain how you are able to look so much like Applejack’s father.” Twilight interrupted.

“Are those the shape shiftin’ monsters that Apple Bloom was sayin’ y’all fought awhile back?” Twilight nodded at his question. “Then no, ah’m not one o’ them, at least ah don’t think so.”

“Then what are ya?” Applejack pressed.

“Ah don’t know if y’all have even heard of ‘em here, but ah’m a human.”

“Human?” Granny Smith muttered to herself. “That sounds mighty familiar...”

“Can humans transform?” Twilight asked.

“No!” John practically shouted. “That’s why ah thought ah was dreamin’ up this whole place! Ah thought y’all were jus’ figments of my imagination made from my memories or somethin’!”

“Ah guess not bein’ my father would explain why ya don’t remember us,” AJ reflected on his words, “but why did ya lie ‘bout knowin’ Granny?”

“That’s the weird thing if all this is real, ah wasn’t lyin’. She really is jus’ like my own Ma, jus’ a pony an’ not a human.”

“Wait, you mean to say there’s a Granny Smith where you come from, too?” Twilight asked.

“Well, she didn’t call herself Granny Smith, an’ she died a good dozen years back or so, but yup. An’ that’s not all, ah had some horses on my farm...uh...they’re like big ponies ‘cept not smart, an’ they were named Mack, Jackie an’ Blossom. What’s more, Ma an’ Pa gave me the nickname of Honeycrisp when ah was a kid.”

“That don’t make no sense.” AJ responded with a perplexed tone.

“So, you’re from some kind of parallel universe or something?” Twilight suggested.

“Para what now?” John asked.

“Parallel universe. It’s like a world that is similar to our own, but has certain key differences. In your case, the primary one would seem to be the species of its inhabitants.”

“Okay, let’s say that he’s from one o’ them other worlds yer talkin’ ‘bout. How did he get here?” AJ asked.

“Ah don’t know.” John answered her question. “All ah know is ah had hurt my back an’ was gonna lose my farm, so ah walked off into the woods, dizzy with painkillers, with the intent o’ killin’ myself. Ah don’t remember nothin’ from after gettin’ to those woods.”

“Hold on jus’ one second...ya said ya was human, right?” John nodded at his mother's inquiry. “Are they two legged critters, an’ wear a lot o’ clothes on account of them not havin’ much hair?”

“Yeah, how’d ya know?” John eyed his mother suspiciously.

“An’ ya said yer name was John Apple?”

“Yeah, but what difference does that make?” John huffed, a little annoyed at his mother’s lack of an answer to his questions.

Granny Smith smirked triumphantly. “Ya ain’t a human an’ ya never were.”

“What d’ya mean, Granny?” Applejack asked.

“Ah mean he’s makin’ all this up, whether he knows it or not.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Do ya really think ah’d rather not be a part o’ this family?” John scolded his mother, but her smug smile didn’t leave her face.

“If yer a human an’ ya lived yer whole life as one, ya should be able to answer a few questions.” Granny countered.

John was taken aback by this challenge of hers. “Of course, ask me anythin’!”

“What’s my name?”

“Granny Smith.”

She shook her head. “Ah don’t mean here, ah mean yer human mother. Ya said she didn’t call herself Granny Smith. What was her name?”

John remained silent as he wracked his brain, but just like the last time he tried to remember his mother’s name, he couldn’t.

“Ah...ah don’t remember.” He confessed.

“An’ what ‘bout the nearest town where ya lived?”

“That’s easy! It was...it was...” John’s eyes bulged as he realized that name eluded him also. Granny’s smirk grew.

“Wait...ya don’t remember nothin’ ‘bout yer actual home neither?” Applejack interjected in confusion. “How the hay does that work?"

“He don’t remember none o’ it cause it ain’t real.” Granny explained. “Everythin’ he does know is jus’ a variation on somethin’ from here.”

“That ain’t true!” John shouted, desperately clinging to one of the things he knew he remembered. “Jacobs! He’s my neighbour, an’ ah left my farm to him in my will!”

“Ya mean Uncle Cobbs?” Apple Bloom piped up.

“Pardon?”

“She’s talkin’ ‘bout Rosewood’s brother, Juniper Cobbs.” Granny answered John’s question. “He ain’t the smartest, but he has a farm out in Appleloosa growin’ corn an’ juniper berries.”

John’s heart sank. Even Jacobs had a counterpart here? He felt like the earth beneath his hooves was giving way and he was left without the foundation he had always rested his entire life on.

“Hold on.” Twilight spoke up. “You say that nothing he remembers fails to have a counterpart in Equestria, but what about humans in general?”

“Ah still got an ace in reserve, little missy.” Granny calmly addressed her concern then turned back to her son. “Ya never did get ‘round to lookin’ through yer stuff in the shed, did ya?”

“No, ah didn’t.”

“Then ah think ya should be comin’ with me.”

The assembly of ponies watched as the elderly mare hobbled out of the barn. A few of them looked at each other in confusion before they followed after her out to a small storage shed.

“Now it’s a little crowded in there, jus’ give me a minute an ah’ll be right back out.” Granny told them before ducking inside the shed.

“What do you think she’s getting?” Fluttershy asked nobody in particular.

“Ooo! Maybe it’s a cake! I hope it’s a cake!” Pinkie Pie suggested exuberantly.

“Whyever would you think she keeps a cake inside a shed?” Rarity stared at her pink friend with exasperation.

“Doesn’t everypony?” Pinkie Pie responded with a question of her own.

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s just you.”

“Her loss!” Pinkie declared as she dug around inside a hole in a nearby tree, fishing out a triple layer cake with chocolate frosting that she subsequently shoved the entirety of in her mouth.

After a few moments of silence, barring the sound of Pinkie chewing, Apple Bloom spoke up. “So...did anypony else wonder what those weird glowin’ critters that Big Mac mentioned were? Maybe they had somethin’ to do with Dad’s disappearance.”

“Actually, I was thinking the same thing.” Twilight Sparkle answered with a twinkle in her eye. “I was planning on searching for my Creatures of the Everfree book when I got back to the library! I don't know if I'd be happier to find it there or not. It'd be so exciting to discover a new magical creature!”

“Ah’d be more interested in findin’ a way to help Dad.” AJ deadpanned.

“Found it!” Granny Smith shouted from within.

The group hushed their conversations as Granny stepped out of the shed with a box balanced on her back. She dropped it onto the ground and opened it. It was packed with old comic books. Granny sorted through them until she found the one she was looking for and pulled it out from the rest.

“Go ahead an’ take a gander at this an’ tell me if it don’t confirm what I was sayin’.”

John stepped forward and gazed down at the cover. There was an illustration of a big, red human carrying a big bag of seeds that he was sowing. John read the title aloud with no small measure of disbelief.

“The Adventures of Johnny Appleseed.”

Chapter 9

John stared at the cover of the comic book that his mother had placed before him. Johnny Appleseed. John Apple. Sure, the names were incredibly similar, he had always known that, but it was just a coincidence. It had to be.

“Excuse me, but could I take a look?” He was brought out of his thoughts by the voice of the purple unicorn.

“Hmm? Oh, sure thing, Miss..?”

“Twilight Sparkle. I’m the one who found you outside the Everfree Forest and brought you to the hospital.”

“Ah, right. Thanks fer that.” He said as he passed the comic to her.

“Don’t mention it.” She answered with a smile before examining the comic, flipping through it after she had enough of the cover. “So...is this what you looked like as a human?”

“More or less.” He admitted somewhat hesitantly. She probably thought that he was crazy now. To be honest, he thought he was crazy too.

“Fascinating. It mentions something about being inspired by a world of humans through a mirror. Maybe that’s where John came from.”

A world of humans through a mirror? That was absolutely ridiculous. Part of John's mind began to wonder if this really was a dream after all.

“Hold on, missy!” Granny cut in. “That’s jus’ a legend, it says so right in the book!”

Twilight’s eyes rose from the comic long enough just long enough to answer. “So was Nightmare Moon.”

“Um...do you think Princess Celestia might know something about it?”

“I don’t know, Fluttershy, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. I’ll have Spike send a letter for me when we get back to the library.”

“Hmph!” Granny huffed. “Yer all barkin’ up the wrong tree. Honeycrisp probably jus’ bumped his head an’ got his memories mixed up.”

“Maybe,” Twilight conceded the possibility as she finally set the comic book back into its box, “but that wouldn’t explain where he’s been all these years. There’re still the glowing creatures that Big Macintosh mentioned to look into too, and I’d like to run a few experiments on John himself.”

“Ya wanna what now?” John asked as his eyes widened. He really didn’t like the sound of that.

“Ah’m not all that keen on ya experimentin’ on my father,” Applejack came to his aid, “even if he may not really be my father.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine, and it may give us some answers.”

“Well...if yer sure—“ John began.

“Wonderful!” Twilight exclaimed as she latched onto John with a hoof, interrupting him.

“Hey now, what’re ya—“

Applejack’s objections were cut off by a sudden popping noise and the sensation of being dragged across a great distance very suddenly only to come to an equally sudden stop. As the world came back into focus after seemingly being stretched into infinite, Twilight’s hoof removed itself from his shoulder and John fought against the urge to retch.

“Spike?!” Twilight shouted as she trotted out of the relatively dimly lit room. “Spike?! I need you to send a letter to the Princess!”

As his protesting stomach began to settle, John took stock of his new surroundings. A machine that looked straight out of a cheesy science fiction movie dominated the space. It was huge, at least twice as tall as he was and just as wide as it was tall. It was covered with all sorts of buttons and screens, and several ominous looking wires were protruding from its side. There wasn't really much else in the room beyond a desk with some writing implements and a few books. How did he get here? Where was everyone else?

John took a few shaky steps towards the door that Twilight had just left from and peered outside. He appeared to be on the second floor of some kind of library if all the books lining the shelves that he spied down a nearby staircase were any indication, likely the one that his captor had mentioned earlier. As he grumbled over being placed so near some back breaking stairs again, he heard Twilight’s voice drifting towards him from below.

“Dear Princess Celestia. Do you remember that pony I mentioned finding in my last letter? Well, it turns out...”

John chose to ignore the unicorn as she continued voicing her letter aloud. It would be rude to listen in on somebody else’s mail, even if it was about him. He turned away from the door and went back to examining the machine. He had absolutely no idea what such a thing could be used for, nor did he know how it could have possibly fit through the door. Either it had to be transported much like he had been earlier, or it would have to have been assembled on location. Any and all mental images he had of a deranged scientist building the device and ransoming the world for unimaginable amounts of money were just examples of his imagination getting the better of him. That he refused to touch the machine had absolutely nothing to do with the possibility of it being a doomsday device that he could set off with the slightest prodding.

“There you are!” John jumped at Twilight’s loud re-entrance.

“Ah’m right where ya left me.” He grumbled in response as he tried to slow his racing heart.

“I know! Most ponies try to leave when I bring them here!”

“Well, ah didn’t.” He stated flatly. He refused to admit that he probably would have made a run for it too had he not had to go down some stairs to do so. “Now what are ya gonna do to me?”

With a sudden jerk, John found himself lifted into the air, and his back protested tremendously over the sudden movement.

“Oops, sorry. I’ll try to be more gentle.” Twilight apologized upon seeing him wince in pain.

She set him softly next to the end of the machine with the plethora of wires coming out of it. With an admonishment not to move, she began attaching the ends of them to various parts of his body until he felt less like a pony and more like some sort of weird octopus. Just as he thought he couldn’t feel any more ridiculous, Twilight placed what appeared to be a big, metal, wired colander on top of his head and latched it solidly in place with a chin strap. Seemingly finished with her task, she flipped a switch on the machine, causing it to fire up with a whirring sound which was accompanied by the occasional beep.

“There! Now you just need to sit still for awhile while the machine scans you, it shouldn't take long. In the mean time, I’ll look into those purple creatures that Big Mac saw.”

Just as Twilight turned to leave him alone again, the sound of a door crashing open in the distance filled the air.

“Twilight!” An incensed Applejack screamed from the source of the crashing door. “Where are ya?”

Twilight winced. “Oh...she doesn’t sound happy.” She poked her head out of the room, “I’m up here, Applejack, and so is John!”

The thundering of hooves charging up the stairs was followed by Applejack barging into the room, nearly running right over Twilight who barely managed to get out of the way in time. She was covered in sweat from running all the way from Sweet Apple Acres, though her steady breathing displayed her superb endurance. She glared at her friend when she saw the nearly unrecognizable form of John beneath a dense forest of wires.

“What the hay do ya think yer doin’ takin’ my dad like that without even warnin’ us?”

Twilight chuckled nervously. “Oh...ummm...I just thought it would be important to get answers as soon as possible.” AJ’s glare intensified. “Okay, fine, I was excited by the prospect of examining a potentially alien life form.”

“Ya can’t do this sorta thing, Twi. Even if he ain’t really a pony, that’s no excuse to treat him any different from one.”

“Oh, come on, he’s fine!” Twilight assured AJ. “Isn’t that right, John?”

As tempted as he was to say no out of annoyance over her attitude, he really was okay and didn’t think it would be a good idea to start lying again so soon after he came clean from his last one, so he nodded.

“Hey! I told you not to move!” Twilight chastised him, much to the irritation of both present Apples. “Anyway, I’m going downstairs to look for my copy of Animals of the Everfree, I’ll be right back. Make sure he doesn’t move until it’s finished scanning him, okay?”

John watched helplessly as the unicorn once again left the room. Being forced to remain still was doing a number on him, he had never before wanted to go for a run more than he wanted to right now. His back was beginning to ache too, and if that wasn’t enough, his hind left leg had fallen asleep. No matter how much he wanted to move, the humming and infrequent beeps from the machine served as a reminder for him to stay still. At least his nose didn’t itch.

After a couple minutes of silence, due in part to John not being allowed to talk, Applejack wandered up to the machine he was connected to and looked it over.

“Ah wonder what this thing does.” Applejack pondered aloud as she poked a corner of the machine with a hoof, eliciting an eye twitch from the immobile John. Moments later, the whirring of the machine began to crank up in volume, getting louder and higher pitched with every second and sounding almost as if it were going to explode. AJ took an involuntary step back as she looked over to John with widened, panic filled eyes. Practically stumbling over her hooves, she dashed towards him.

“We gotta get outta here!” She hollered as John tripped over the cords emanating from him in his struggle to get away. AJ helped him to his hooves and was about to tear that which had entrapped him from his body, but she froze when the roar of the machine stopped, replaced by a soft hiss and then silence. The two ponies stared with trepidation at the now quiet device.

“Ah think ya broke it.” John stated. Applejack turned back to him, still tense from their recent scare.

“How was ah supposed to know it was so fragile? All ah did was give it a little tap!”

The two stayed silent for a few seconds longer until John suddenly began to chuckle and, despite her protests that it wasn’t funny, Applejack soon joined him. Their laughter grew until they had to lean on each other for support to avoid falling to the floor.

Gradually, their convulsive laughter died down and the two were left cleansed from the stress of their perceived near death experience. Once he had been able to catch his breath, John started plucking the wires from his body.

“Better?” He asked her as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yup.” She confirmed with a relaxed smile. “Ah’m sorry fer how ah’ve been treatin’ ya these last couple o’ days.”

“An’ ah’m sorry ah didn’t tell ya the truth ‘bout who ah really am earlier.”

“Ah guess we’ve both not been at our best recently.” AJ observed with a thoughtful frown.

“Maybe we can both start over?”

Applejack’s nodded. “Ah think ah’d like that.”

The two of them sat there, avoiding eye contact in awkward silence, unsure of where to go from there.

“So...” AJ finally piped up. “What was yer life like livin’ as a human?”

A frown settled onto the older pony’s face. “Ah wish ah could say it was great, but ah’d be lyin’. Ah did try to kill myself an’ all.”

“Ah meant before what made ya do that.”

John closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he tried to remember details of his prior life. It was all so blurry in his mind, as if he were looking at his life through a foggy night.

“Ah can’t remember too much. Ah owned the family farm an’ ah’d run it fer a couple dozen years, maybe. It was my life. Everythin’ ah cared ‘bout was on that farm.”

“An’ ya didn’t have no family? Not me, or my siblings?” John shook his head sombrely. “What ‘bout Mom?”

“Ah never even talked to Rosewood.”

“But ya knew her? She existed?” John nodded. “Why didn’t ya talk to her?”

“We were in school together, but ah was too shy to say anythin’. Before ah could work up the nerve, she ended up dead in an accident.”

Applejack looked away with a frown on her face and her ears plastered to her skull. Silence fell between the two for a few moments. Her eyes lit up and she turned back to John.

“What ‘bout those animals ya said ya had? The ones named after us?”

John smiled at the memory of his horses. “Ah had three horses an’ they were named Mack, Jackie an’ Blossom. Blossom was jus’ a foal, but she was a right curious sort.” He chuckled. “Funny thing is that ah saw them as somethin’ akin to my children. Ah sure hope they’re okay.”

“Ah’m sure they miss ya jus’ as much as we miss our own Dad.”

Silence fell again, though it was considerably less strained, even if no less sad. John looked to the door that Twilight had gone through.

“If it turns out that ah’m right ‘bout me not bein’ yer father an’ that ah’m really a human...well...ah don’t have much reason to try an’ go back home. Ya think maybe that ah could stay on here with y'all? Ah mean, ah know ah’m not really yer father, but maybe ah could still be some kind of family to ya?”

“What ‘bout those animals ya were talkin’ ‘bout? Don’t they need ya?"

John shook his head. “Ah left ‘em with Jacobs, remember? They’ll be taken care of jus’ fine.”

Applejack smiled warmly and slid her forelegs around his neck in an embrace. “Ah think we could arrange somethin’.”

Their tender moment was interrupted by the return of Twilight Sparkle, causing the pair to separate hastily.

“Ah! It’s done! I thought I heard it finishing up!”

“Done? That’s what it sounds like when it’s done? Ah thought that thing was gonna blow us up to Cloudsdale!” Applejack exclaimed.

“Why would you think that? I keep all of my machines in impeccable working condition to ensure that they never break down on me!” She boasted. “To think that one of them might explode again is just plain silly!”

“Again?” John’s voice cracked as he honed in on that one troubling word.

“Oh look! It’s done!” Twilight blushed and quickly changed the subject by manner of repeating herself as she trotted over to one of the machine’s monitors and tapped a few buttons, causing it to light up. “Time to check the results!”

The other two ponies stared at Twilight impatiently as she mumbled to herself while reading the results of the experiment.

“So...What’s it say?” John spoke up hesitantly, almost afraid of what the answer may be.

Twilight looked away from her work. “I can’t be sure, but a cursory glance at the results seems to indicate he’s pretty normal. I’d need to do a more in depth comparison to be sure, but so far he seems like any other pony.”

“So he’s really my dad?”

“Not necessarily.” Twilight answered. “It could just be that whatever turned him into a pony was very thorough.”

AJ raised an eyebrow. “If it didn’t prove nothin’, then why’d ya bother with all this in the first place?”

“Well, if it had shown he wasn’t like other ponies, then that would have been very enlightening.” AJ groaned in frustration at her friend’s answer.

“What ‘bout that book ya were lookin’ fer? Did that have anythin'?” John interrupted before his daughter’s annoyance had a chance to grow even further.

Twilight shook her head. “I’m afraid I didn’t find anything there.”

“Are ya sure? Ya can’t have looked through all of it, ya weren’t gone that long.” He added, causing Twilight’s face to scrunch up.

“It’s a really short book.” She stated with distaste. “It’s so incomplete that I’ve seen foal’s picture books with more information in them.”

“Oh...Ah see.”

From somewhere just outside the door, a belching sound could be heard, and moments later, Spike walked into the room carrying a scroll of parchment.

“Twilight! The Princess answered your letter!”

“Well, that was fast.” Twilight commented as she snatched the letter from Spike’s claws with her magic and scanned its contents.

“What’s it say?” Applejack inquired.

“Huh...she says that there really is a way to get to the human world through a mirror that she has in the Canterlot treasury and even that those who travel through it transform into the natural inhabitants of the world they are entering.”

“So, that’s how ah got here?”

Twilight’s eyes flew across the page a few seconds longer before she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. She says it only opens up once every twenty eight moons and isn't due to open for several moons yet.”

“Oh.” John said, more than a little disappointed that such a promising avenue for proving he wasn’t just crazy had been closed to him. “So the answer after all this ruckus is jus’ ‘we don’t know’?”

“Maybe at the moment, but we haven’t finished looking into those glowing creatures yet.”

“But ah thought yer book didn’t have nothin’ on ‘em.”

“It doesn’t.” She admitted to him.

“Then how do ya plan on findin’ anythin’ more on ‘em?” He asked, tensing up as he had an inkling as to what the next step was.

“We’re going to go see somepony who knows more about the Everfree Forest than anypony else!”

John sighed with relief. He had feared that she had planned on taking him into that forest or something. He learned not to be so quick to relax, however, with Twilight Sparkle’s next words.

“You’ve got tonight to prepare, everypony. Tomorrow we’re going into the Everfree!”

Chapter 10

John watched with confusion as Twilight Sparkle combed over a rather generic patch of grass just outside of the Everfree Forest, her face comically close to the ground, almost like a dog sniffing out a trail. Big Mac and Applejack had simply rolled with the sudden halting of their journey, likely no more looking forward to entering the forest than he was, and were talking quietly to each other off to the side. Twilight had been examining the area for several minutes now without saying a word to any of her companions other than to call for a halt. Eventually, his curiosity finally got the better of him and he had to ask.

“Not that ah’m complainin’ ‘bout not goin’ into the big, dangerous forest, but what are we doin’ here? Ah thought we were goin’ to see this Zecora person.”

Twilight looked up from examining the ground. “We are, but I figured I should look around here first. It’s where I found you, so I thought there might be something to find here. Speaking of places we should probably investigate,” she turned to the Apple siblings and addressed Big Mac, “do you think you could find that cliff that your father fell down again?”

“Nope.” He answered.

“That’s too bad. It was a long time ago and you were just a foal at the time, so it’s not exactly surprising, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Have ya found anythin’ here?” Applejack asked.

“No.” She admitted.

“Then maybe we should be gettin’ to Zecora’s.”

“Just a moment longer.”

Twilight’s horn began to glow and an expanding sphere of pink covered the entire area. John shuddered at the foreign feeling as the sphere passed right through him. While not that unpleasant, he would be happy to never experience the sensation again. Seconds later, the sphere faded into nothingness and the area looked just as it had moments earlier.

“Well, that was a bust.” Twilight stated with a frown. “I had hoped to find some kind of residual magic energy that may indicate something unusual happening here, but there’s nothing.”

“So we can get goin’ now?” AJ pressed.

“Yes.”

Twilight began to march into the forest along what appeared to be a barely tread upon path, though calling it that may be too generous, stepping around a patch of pretty blue flowers. Applejack and Big Mac followed after her, the latter of which was considerably more nervous than the two mares. John stared at the forest they were about to enter for as long as he could without risking being left behind and then trotted to catch up with them, glad that he had remembered to take his medicine before leaving this morning. Casually, Applejack glanced behind herself to make sure he was following only to have her eyes widen in panic.

“Stop!” She demanded of him. John screeched to a halt, one hoof held frozen over the patch of blue flowers, mind racing as he tried to figure out what was wrong that she would scream at him like that. Was he about to step on a snake or something? His eyes darted all around him, trying to find whatever the problem was.

“What’s wrong, Applejack?” Twilight had frozen and had her horn glowing in preparation of defending the group against any threat.

“Dad...uh...John here almost stepped in the poison joke.”

“Poison joke?” John’s brow furrowed with confusion. He stepped back from the blue flowers cautiously. Were those pretty little things what she was talking about? Not even inside the forest proper yet, and he already nearly killed himself apparently. A sudden bout of dizziness overtook him and he had to sit down to steady himself.

“It’s a flower that does all sorts o’ weird stuff to those that touch it.” AJ explained.

“Weird stuff? Ya mean it don’t kill ya?” He asked as he tried to calm his racing heart.

“No, it’s not deadly. The joke part is more apt than the poison part.” Twilight further elucidated. “It made my horn floppy and useless for channelling magic, shrunk Applejack, flipped Rainbow Dash’s wings upside down, and a lot more. We can cure it, but it’s best to just avoid it entirely.”

John stared at the not so harmless flowers in front of him. He had enough weird things going on in his life without having a plant mess him up even further.

“Thanks fer the warnin’.” He said as he carefully stepped his way around the flower patch.

“Ah’ll try an give ya a heads up on anythin’ else ya need to watch out for.” Applejack assured him as she stepped protectively closer to John. Part of him was embarrassed at having someone who may as well be his daughter acting that way, but most of him was just relieved at having the extra bit of safety she could provide for him.

The quartet of ponies travelled along that barely visible path through the forest, the low light level caused by the thick canopy of leaves above them making it difficult to see. Despite the low visibility that had John’s sense of direction flummoxed within minutes, Twilight led them confidently through the forest.

“This place don’t seem so bad.” John observed. Other than the low light and those poison joke flowers, it really had been a tame journey.

“It usually isn’t during the day.” Twilight responded. “Most of the truly dangerous animals of the forest are nocturnal, so nights tend to be much more dangerous. That’s why I had us wait until morning before coming here instead of risking getting caught in here at night.”

“What kind of animals do ya mean? Like wolves an’ coyotes?”

“Not exactly. More like manticores and cockatrices. I was actually turned to stone by a cockatrice once, I’m lucky that Fluttershy was able to convince it to turn me back.”

“Oh...ah see.” John felt the blood draining from his face at the thought of being lost and petrified in the forest, never to be found by anyone ever again.

“We should still keep our eyes open for timber wolves, though, they’re active during the day. They even wander outside of the forest every now and then, too.”

“Yup, ya see ‘em near Sweet Apple Acres from time to time.” Applejack confirmed, eliciting a gulp of fear from John. He wasn’t sure what differentiated these timber wolves from normal ones, but he knew enough about animals to know that predators went for the elderly, sick or injured before most others, and he was part of at least one of those, quite possibly two by nature’s standards and maybe even all three if it turned out he was crazy after all. He really didn't like his odds.

“I doubt they’d attack a group of our size, though, and even if they do I’m pretty sure that we can handle them.”

The group went quiet for a couple of minutes, leaving John with his macabre thoughts. It wasn’t long before he could stand the silence no longer and felt he had to fill the void.

“So, what’s this Zecora like?”

“She’s a friend of ours. She’s a zebra who lives in the forest here where she gathers herbs and such for making potions with. We actually got the cure for poison joke from her. She comes into Ponyville every now and then to sell some of her remedies and to stock up on supplies from the market. She’s more knowledgeable about the plant life of the forest than the animals, but I’d bet she still knows more than any other pony alive.”

“How much longer ‘fore we find her?” He asked, fearfully eying the dark underbrush, imagining that he saw the face of a monster in every shadow.

“Not too much longer.” Twilight assured him.

Much to John’s relief, their party didn’t encounter any nasty creatures before a humble looking cottage crawled into view. A warm glow emanated from the windows, giving a reassuring indication of civilized life in the overgrown woods.

“Here we are!” Twilight announced brightly. Without any hesitation, she trotted up to the door and knocked and, within seconds, a zebra with her mane fashioned into a Mohawk with several golden rings upon her legs opened it.

“Ah, Twlight Sparkle, this is quite the boon. I did not expect to see you again so soon.”

“Hello, Zecora, it’s great to see you again.”

John blinked dumbly at the rhyming greeting. Was that a coincidence? He gave a puzzled look to Applejack.

“Ah guess we forgot to mention, she kinda speaks in rhyme.” Aj whispered to him.

“Why would she do that?”

“To be honest, ah have no idea. She’s always done it.”

“I see you have not come alone, there are others speaking with a whispered tone.”

“You know Applejack already, and the other two are Big Macintosh, her brother, and Honeycrisp or John, her father. Maybe.”

“In your faces I see confusion sown, what makes his identity so unknown?”

“Actually, it’s kind of a long story.”

“You’re all free to come inside, but in me this story you must confide.”

Zecora’s words were accompanied by her returning back inside her hut, and the four of them followed after her. It was a little cramped inside, especially since two of the ponies were exceptionally large, but Zecora was still a pleasant host. She began preparing some tea while they sat themselves around a spooky, boiling cauldron. Over their sipping of tea, Twilight explained their situation, and for good measure had Big MacIntosh go over his story once more.

“Do you think you could help us find the cliff where Big Mac saw his father go missing?” Twilight pressed the zebra when their tales were finished. Zecora pursed her lips for a few moments before answering.

“There are many such cliffs within this wood. I cannot find yours, though I wish I could.”

“Yeah, I thought that’d be the case, but I figured it was worth a shot. How about those glowing, purple creatures that Big Mac saw? Do those sound familiar?"

“That little detail I had not missed, and with that maybe I can assist.”

“Ya mean ya know what they were?” AJ asked, her eyes shining brightly with excitement.

“It is just a guess, I do not know, but what they may be I think best to show.”

Zecora trotted off to a shelf lined with a variety of rough looking books, most of them not looking to be of the production quality that had lined the shelves of Twilight’s library. John hoped that what they lacked in appearances they made up for in content. Within moments, Zecora was returning with one of them held between her teeth, which she passed to Twilight.

“In this tome many creatures can be seen, I suggest you search page seventeen.”

Twilight Sparkle opened the book to the indicated page as the other ponies, minus Zecora, crowded around her for a better look at what was inside. John didn’t see much, but he did catch a glimpse of a rough sketch that looked similar to the creatures that Big Mac had described.

“The nightmare wisp.” Twilight read aloud for her companion’s benefit. “These creatures live in small swarms inside the Everfree Forest. They teleport their prey to their nests, where they feed off of their nightmares. Once there, they use a stinger on their tails to inject a magical toxin that both induces nightmares and puts their prey into a form of stasis, halting nearly all bodily functions, staving off imminent death, and even putting a stop to the aging process. While impressive in its effects, this toxin is incapable of affecting larger creatures unless they are already in a considerably weakened state or it is applied in incredibly large doses, and as a result it is rare for the nightmare wisp to feed on anything larger than a small dog.”

“Ah dunno.” John spoke up once Twilight finished reading. “Ah’m a lot bigger than any dog ah’ve ever seen.”

“You should not be so quick to dismiss, the fact he fell you seem to miss.” Zecora said directly to John.

“Yeah, ah reckon that fallin’ down a cliff would put ya into a weakened state fer sure.” AJ pointed out.

“Wait...’he fell’?” John pointed out the odd wording, considering she had been talking to him directly with that line. “Do ya mean ya don’t think ah’m him?”

“I can’t be certain if he is you, but altering memories is something wisps don’t do.”

“Ya mean that even after all this, we still don’t know if he’s my dad or not?” Applejack groaned with frustration.

“I am sorry for your sorrow, Applejack, but the answers you seek I’m afraid I lack.”

The rest of the visit was pleasant, at least on the surface, but it had an undertone of disappointment. John realized that they had learned a lot today as to the potential fate of the real Honeycrisp, but that there was still more to discover. Either he was the real Honeycrisp and they had to find out what happened to his memories, or he wasn’t and the real one was either lost somewhere out in the forest, or dead.

It was as John was thinking on his situation that Twilight announced they should be leaving. Their group bid Zecora farewell and filed out of her hut into the forest. The return trip wasn’t as light hearted as the initial journey had been. There was very little talking between them, and in its place quiet contemplation. As before, there weren’t any attacks from any dangerous animals and they made good time in nearing the edge of the forest.

A stray root snaking its way out above ground on the path happened to catch John unawares, tripping him. He fell painfully to the ground with a cry. His back had barely pained him at all the entire day thus far, something he had been quite thankful for, but his landing sent a lightning bolt of agony through his back.

“Dad!” AJ shouted with worry, not quite sure as to what had happened, and ran to help him back up.

“Ah’m okay....ah jus’ tripped.” He waved off her concern as he tried to get back to his hooves, but fell back to the ground as another shock of pain coursed through him. AJ’s eyes hardened as she saw him struggle.

“Ya may have jus’ tripped, but ya ain’t fine, ah can see that clear as the nose on my face.”

“No, ah’m fine.” John insisted as he finally managed to get his hooves under him, his face strained under the pain.

“Nope.” Big Mac said as he stepped beside him.

“Hey! What’re ya doin’?!” John shouted in protest as the two worked to force him onto the broad back of Big Mac.

“Ya’ve been on yer hooves enough today, jus’ let Big Mac carry ya the rest o’ the way.”

John gave up struggling as he realized the futility of it and lay limp on his son’s back with a sigh. His face burned with embarrassment. He hadn’t been carried like that since he was a foal..err...kid. A feminine giggle split through the air and John glared impotently at its source.

“What’re ya laughin’ at?” He groused.

“Oh, nothing.” Twilight Sparkle stifled her giggles. “I’ll just leave you three to your family bonding.”

Twilight directed one final, amused grin his way before she briskly trotted off ahead of them.

“Ya got him?” AJ asked her brother.

“Yup.” He confirmed

“Good.” She said with a satisfied grin and then started walking again at a slower pace so that she wouldn’t outrun them. Though he couldn’t see his son’s face from his position on his back, John had little doubt that he had a big ol’ grin on his face too.

“Ah can walk, it was jus’ a bit o’ pain. Ah’m fine now!” He tried one last time to convince his children. Applejack twisted her neck to look at him as she continued moving forward.

“Ya ain’t walkin’ no more, an’ that’s final!”

“AJ?”

“Ah said no.”

“AJ!”

“What?!” She responded irritably to John’s prodding.

“Yer walkin’ in the poison joke.”

Applejack halted suddenly as the colour drained from her face. She looked down and sure enough, she was standing right in the middle of a beautiful patch of blue flowers.

“Aw, snake whiskers!” She voiced bitterly.

“Ya gonna be okay?” John asked, glad that Big Mac had stopped before he too had gone into the poisonous flowers.

“Ah’m fine, fer now at any rate. Poison joke don’t affect ya right away. Ah’ll have to head to the spa an’ get Aloe an’ Lotus to run a bath filled with the cure before it pulls whatever joke it feels like pullin’ this time.”

“A joke, huh?” John chuckled suddenly as a thought came to him. “Maybe yer gonna turn into a human, then we can both be in the wrong body.”

AJ stood motionless and blinked a few times at him.

“Alright, ah know it wasn’t a good joke, but it ain’t that bad, is it?”

Still neither of them responded and silence continued to reign. AJ looked over to her brother for a moment and then back to John and her shocked expression transformed into a thrilled grin. He returned the stare and let out one completely bewildered word.

“What?!”

Chapter 11

“Yer sure 'bout this?” John asked as he warily eyed the large tub that had been filled with all manner of plants that he didn’t recognize.

“Jus’ get in the tub.” Applejack encouraged him. “Even if ah’m wrong an’ poison joke’s got nothin’ to do with ya, it ain’t gonna hurt ya none.”

John looked into her eyes, so filled with hope and anticipation. She had gone on and on about how she should have thought of this earlier, that it should have been obvious that he had to have gotten into some poison joke. She had been like a little child on her birthday, uncontrollably eager and impatient to get her presents.

He looked over to Big MacIntosh, standing silent vigil nearby. Though he had barely said a word, he could see a similar anticipation in his face. He may not have been as vocal about it, but he realized that he was just as excited as his sister.

“Alright, then, ah’ll do it. Ah jus’ hope ya ain’t disappointed.”

With one final deep breath, John stepped into the tub and submerged himself beneath the surface.

John walked into the woods next to his farmhouse, pistol in his hand. He was so very tired. The act of walking alone was enough to drain him of most of his energy. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t need much energy to pull a trigger.

Gasping for breath, he leaned against a broad tree trunk. He winced as his back was jabbed painfully by a knot in the wood and reached for his pill bottle once more. He popped off the lid and placed the opening to his mouth, swallowing what little was left in one go. He tossed aside the empty container and stood there catching his breath.

A curious squirrel bounded up onto a nearby fallen log and chattered at him noisily. It was almost like it was one of his doctors chastising him for what he was about to do.

“Shut up...” He forced out of his lethargic lips. The squirrel tilted its head for a moment and then continued with its chattering as if John had said nothing at all.

“I said shut up!” He screamed through his tears. What did a damn squirrel know about his pain? What right did it have to scold him like that? The squirrel ignored his order and kept right on with chastising him.

With a cry of rage and anguish, John pushed against the tree to launch himself at the animal. Though he went as quickly as he could manage in his drugged up state, he didn’t even come close to getting the critter. Instead, he landed on top of the log with his face hanging into the dirt.

He knew he should have been in serious pain from the impact, but the over dose of pain killers had him only feeling numb. Finally the pain had disappeared. He knew that his relief was only temporary, though. If the drugs didn’t kill him, it would all come crashing back within a few hours. For now, though, he was at peace lying there with the scent of earth filling his nostrils.

John lifted his head and saw his pistol in the dirt just in front of him. He had forgotten he had brought that with him during his rage filled confrontation with the squirrel. He didn’t know how long he stared at that weapon. It could have been hours or merely seconds. Either way, the cold feeling of loneliness began to seep back in and tears once again coursed down his face.

John reached for the weapon, put the barrel to his head and pulled the trigger.

Honeycrisp Apple woke up with a gasp. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his back, aligning very well with his jumbled memories. Glowing, purple bugs seemed to be flitting about madly all around him. One of them tried to sting him and he absently swatted it away.

He rubbed his eyes with a hoof, noticing too late that he was bleeding from that appendage to avoid smearing blood all over his face. He stared a moment in confusion at his limb. Right, a hoof, not a hand. He was a pony, not a human, despite what he had thought moments ago. That had been one heck of a dream. No mother, no Rosewood, no foals...it was one of the worst things he could have imagined.

He crawled from the cushy pile of leaves and grasses he had somehow ended up in and onto his hooves. The pain from his back nearly caused him to collapse, but he managed to hold firm. He remembered that he had followed Mac into the forest, that his son had screamed and then he himself fell over a cliff when a terrified Mac had mistakenly attacked him with that stick he was carrying. The kid probably felt terrible for what he had done, even if it was an accident. Honeycrisp had to find him. He had already suffered enough over his mother's death and the last thing he needed was to feel even more guilt.

Honeycrisp looked around him and realized that he didn’t know where he was, or how long he had been unconscious. Despite remembering that he had fallen from a cliff, there was nothing of the sort in sight. Everywhere he looked, all he could see were trees and more of those strange bugs. He had no idea where Macintosh could be, and the ache in his back told him that trying to search the entire forest right now would be a very bad idea. He’d have to go back to Ponyville and find somepony to help him find Macintosh. With luck, he had already gone home and was safe.

That he had no idea where he was returned to his mind. Getting home may have been a great plan, but he didn’t know how to get there. He glanced up only to see the thick canopy of leaves. He wasn’t going to be able to tell the direction back to town by the sun’s position, at least not here anyway. He wasn’t even sure what time of day it was. He hoped that the sun wasn’t going to set soon. As bad as the Everfree may be during the day, it would be much worse come nightfall.

With no better alternative, he chose a direction at random and began trekking through the trees. The pain in his back grew with every passing minute and he realized that his injury was far worse than he had at first thought. Considering his fall, he was probably lucky that he wasn’t permanently injured like in his dreams. He would need to see a doctor when he got back to make sure that he wasn’t.

After several minutes of wandering in what he hoped was a straight line, he happened upon what appeared to be an animal path. It wasn’t very well trodden, but next to what he had been travelling through, it was a marked improvement. He was faced with another direction dilemma, however.

He wrinkled his nose as he noticed a rather rancid odour. It smelled like rotting vegetation and he had a slight urge to vomit because of it. Whichever direction he took, he hoped that it took him away from that foul smell.

Just then, Honeycrisp heard the sound of a twig snapping nearby.

“Hello?” He shouted nervously. “Is anypony there?”

There was no answer, only a slight rustling of some bushes near where he had heard the previous sound. Honeycrisp began to tremble in fear. He was in no condition to fight if it was a predator. He had already feared that he might collapse only moments earlier, but a sudden boost of adrenaline inspired by fear coursed through his body. Without any more hesitation, he trotted as quickly as his battered form would allow in the opposite direction of the sounds.

Whatever it was seemed to find no difficulty in keeping up with its injured quarry. The scent still followed him, but whatever its source was hadn’t yet shown itself to him, so he kept on running and tried to ignore the flares of pain in his back. In no time at all, he was breathing in ragged gasps.

As he charged forward, he noticed that the trees were beginning to thin. He hoped that meant he was approaching the edge of the forest because he knew he couldn’t run for much longer. He was tearing through a patch of blue flowers when one of his legs, burning from exhaustion, gave out beneath him and he went tumbling to the ground. It was at this moment as he groaned in a pained heap that his pursuer decided to finally show itself.

It was a timberwolf. It looked to be rather small, possibly even malnourished. It was probably some sort of outcast from its pack that had a hard time feeding itself without its companions. It didn’t need to be particularly big or strong to hunt down an injured and exhausted pony, though.

Despite Honeycrisp’s condition, the animal approached cautiously, slowly prowling its way towards him. Honeycrisp dragged himself forward desperately. He was so close to Ponyville now, he could see a few buildings in the distance and only a few trees remained ahead, but it was still too far. He wasn’t going to make it. He stopped crawling forward and stayed still on the ground, waiting for the predator to attack.

Believing that its prey had given up, the lone timberwolf pounced. Using the last bit of strength he had, Honeycrisp bucked at the predator, using its own momentum against itself to strike far harder than his own movements alone would allow. His large hooves landed solidly on the timberwolf’s face with a resounding crack and it was sent soaring backwards through the air.

Honeycrisp’s world exploded into hot, white agony. Everything except the pain in his back faded from his perceptions for a few seconds. When his senses returned, he could make out the shape of the timberwolf picking itself up from the ground. It snarled at him angrily and began its approach again, this time more carefully. It didn’t matter if it was careful or not anymore, Honeycrisp didn’t have the ability to move. That last ditch effort to defend himself had crippled his already badly injured back and no amount of adrenaline could let him ignore it now. He was finished.

Honeycrisp’s ears flickered involuntarily towards a new sound, and the timberwolf noticed it too. It was the humming of a mare coming from the same direction he had in the forest. The timberwolf looked back and forth between its prey and the approaching noise. With one final growl, it fled, unwilling to contend with the potential threat of the incoming pony.

With a weak sigh of relief, Honeycrisp succumbed to his exhaustion and fell asleep.

Applejack watched nervously as the pony that may be her father submerged himself in the tub of poison joke remedy. She counted the seconds that passed until she began to worry that he was at risk of drowning. None of her friends had taken this long to be cured, right?

Just as she was beginning to think she needed to intervene, he burst through the surface of the water with a gasp. He stood there, facing away from her, his faded green mane and red coat plastered to his body and water flowing off him back into the tub. Seconds passed in relative quiet, the sounds of dripping water and his gradually calming breathing dominated the room.

AJ looked to Big Macintosh then back to the stallion in the water and took a step towards him.

“Dad?”

The soaked stallion slowly turned, careful not to hurt his back, to face her. His glistening orange eyes stared, as if they were seeing her for the very first time. A few tears trailed down his face, indistinguishable from the rest of the water.

Honeycrisp Apple nodded, one of the broadest smiles he had ever had spreading across his face.

Applejack’s lip trembled and some tears of her own escaped her eyes as she took another shaky step towards her father. Before she could even come close to him, a huge, red blur flew past her and landed in the spa’s large tub with a tremendous splash. When she looked back after shielding her eyes from the water that had flown everywhere, she saw her father had wrapped Big Macintosh in a comforting hug as he laughed merrily. With a simple hoof motion, Honeycrsip beckoned his daughter over to join them.

Applejack leapt into the tub, sending yet more water flying everywhere, and the three embraced each other as family.

Chapter 11B - Alternate Ending

“Yer sure 'bout this?” John asked as he warily eyed the large tub that had been filled with all manner of plants that he didn’t recognize.

“Jus’ get in the tub.” Applejack encouraged him. “Even if ah’m wrong an’ poison joke’s got nothin’ to do with ya, it ain’t gonna hurt ya none.”

John looked into her eyes, so filled with hope and anticipation. She had gone on and on about how she should have thought of this earlier, that it should have been obvious that he had to have gotten into some poison joke. She had been like a little child on her birthday, uncontrollably eager and impatient to get her presents.

He looked over to Big MacIntosh, standing silent vigil nearby. Though he had barely said a word, he could see a similar anticipation in his face. He may not have been as vocal about it, but he realized that he was just as excited as his sister.

“Alright, then, ah’ll do it. Ah jus’ hope ya ain’t disappointed.”

With one final deep breath, John stepped into the tub and submerged himself beneath the surface.

John walked into the woods next to his farmhouse, pistol in his hand. He was so very tired. The act of walking alone was enough to drain him of most of his energy. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t need much energy to pull a trigger.

Gasping for breath, he leaned against a broad tree trunk. He winced as his back was jabbed painfully by a knot in the wood and reached for his pill bottle once more. He popped off the lid and placed the opening to his mouth, swallowing what little was left in one go. He tossed aside the empty container and stood there catching his breath.

A curious squirrel bounded up onto a nearby fallen log and chattered at him noisily. It was almost like it was one of his doctors chastising him for what he was about to do.

“Shut up...” He forced out of his lethargic lips. The squirrel tilted its head for a moment and then continued with its chattering as if John had said nothing at all.

“I said shut up!” He screamed through his tears. What did a damn squirrel know about his pain? What right did it have to scold him like that? The squirrel ignored his order and kept right on with chastising him.

With a cry of rage and anguish, John pushed against the tree to launch himself at the animal. Though he went as quickly as he could manage in his drugged up state, he didn’t even come close to getting the critter. Instead, he landed on top of the log with his face hanging into the dirt.

He knew he should have been in serious pain from the impact, but the over dose of pain killers had him only feeling numb. Finally the pain had disappeared. He knew that his relief was only temporary, though. If the drugs didn’t kill him, it would all come crashing back within a few hours. For now, though, he was at peace lying there with the scent of earth filling his nostrils.

John lifted his head and saw his pistol in the dirt just in front of him. He had forgotten he had brought that with him during his rage filled confrontation with the squirrel. He didn’t know how long he stared at that weapon. It could have been hours or merely seconds. Either way, the cold feeling of loneliness began to seep back in and tears once again coursed down his face.

He reached for the weapon, but for some reason his fingers just wouldn’t work the way he wanted. He gave up trying, and soon his vision faded to black, the gun being the last thing he saw.

John woke up with a gasp to the sound of gunfire from some cheesy action film and the painful glare of bright, florescent light. He instinctively brought a hand to his face to protect his eyes.

Hand. Not hoof.

Tears silently coursed down his face as that fact sunk in.

“Oh, I’m sorry...did I wake you?” An unfamiliar voice greeted him with an apology.

John uncovered his eyes and looked off to the side. Lying in a hospital bed near him was a pale, thin boy, a teenager he guessed. He held a remote in his hand and he looked incredibly apologetic.

“I..I can shut it off if you want, it’s okay!” The boy stuttered.

He spied the TV that was hanging from the wall. It played an old action movie and had the channel’s logo emblazoned in the corner of the screen.

The screen flickered as the boy turned it off and John just stared at the blank screen in silence.

Three days passed and the anguish John felt faded away into numbness, at least in part due to an increase in pain medication that he was being pumped full of. The teenager in the other bed remained his companion for the entire duration.

The kid watched a lot of television, all sorts of stuff. He marvelled at every show he saw, regardless of what it was. Game shows, movies, cartoons, kids shows, he watched all of it with enthusiasm, almost as if he never had watched television before.

The boy talked. A lot. He needed no encouragement to do so, not that John had given any. He talked about the shows he saw and their characters. He talked about how he didn’t often get the chance to watch television. He talked about how he preferred the fantasy worlds that television showed him over the real world. John could empathise with this view, better than the boy could ever imagine.

John got the impression that the kid was lonely. He didn’t even seem to care that John hadn’t talked to him at all, he just kept on chattering away in a happy mood, and yet he could tell the kid had a streak of sorrow lurking beneath that cheerful exterior. Through the kid, he learned that he had been fading in and out of consciousness for days before he had properly come to his senses, and that he had always been completely out of it with delusions or hallucinations or something whenever he was awake. It was tremendously painful to know he was alone yet again, but the truth often was.

His life seemed so clear to him now. His mother’s first name? Anna. The town he lived near? Bloomsberg. The forest he lived next to? Okay, he still didn’t remember the name of that one, but it hardly mattered. He remembered his life now. Equestria, the Apple ponies, all of that was about as real as what the kid watched on the television.

Two more days passed. Not a single soul visited him in that time, not that such a thing surprised him, there was nobody to visit him. What’s more, he began to notice that nobody visited the boy, either. They were two lonely people sharing a hospital room. For the first time since regaining himself, John spoke.

“What’re ya in here for?” He asked the kid, who looked around the room in search of the strange new voice until he finally realized its source.

“Oh. Umm...I uh...had an allergic reaction.”

John didn’t believe him, but he didn’t press.

“Ah’m in here ‘cause ah tried to kill myself. Ah had a gun an’ was ‘bout to shoot myself, but I pumped myself full of so many pills ah must’ve passed out. Not sure how ah got here, but it don’t really matter none. Somepony found me, an’ that’s that.”

John realized he had actually said ‘somepony’, and found his cheeks warming up in embarrassment over his gaffe, though if the kid noticed he didn't say anything. Silence fell between them, only the sound of the television cutting through the emptiness of the room. The kid avoided his gaze and John figured that the conversation was probably over. He repositioned himself so that he could be a little more comfortable and went back to watching the cartoon that was currently playing.

“I tried to kill myself too.” The kid finally admitted. John looked over to him, though the kid didn’t say anymore. They just lay there, two lost souls taking comfort in their shared knowledge of unspoken pain.

“Okay, Mister Carson, you’ve been given a clean bill of health. You’ll be clear to leave in a couple of hours.”

John looked over to the nurse that was hovering over his companion, who was looking rather downcast at the news. He didn’t argue, though, merely nodded. The nurse didn’t stick around, leaving the two of them alone once again in the room. The kid curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“Where are ya gonna go, kid?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he answered. “Home to my parents.”

“Ya don’t have parents, do ya?”

The kid hugged his knees even tighter. “Yes I do.” He argued faintly.

“Kid, ya ain’t had a single visitor all week. A parent woulda come to see ya near every day. Ya ain’t got parents. Yer alone.”

He began to tremble and a few tears began to flow down his gaunt cheeks.

“What’re ya gonna do?” John asked again.

“I don’t know!” He answered between sobs.

John’s heart broke at seeing somebody so young in such despair. He reached for a piece of paper and a pen that were beside his bed. After writing something down, he forced himself onto his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain in his back. He had refused to take as much medication recently as he had earlier. He was better able to talk with his companion when he wasn’t higher than the clouds.

“Here.” He shoved the piece of paper into the kid’s hands, who stared up at him through the tears with questioning eyes. “Go there. There’s a spare key beneath the welcome mat. Yer welcome to stay there as long as ya need.”

The kid looked from him to the paper and back.

“Thank you.”

Two more days passed before John left the hospital. They wanted him to stay longer on account of him having injured his back even further with his attempted suicide, but he refused. He had to get back home.

He took a cab back to his farm, paid the incredibly high fee, and hurried as quickly as he could to the front door of his home. He paused and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and then reached for the handle. It was still locked. He found the key where he left it beneath the welcome mat and entered into the house.

He searched room by room, hoping to find that kid from the hospital. The living room, the bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen...all were empty. He checked the fridge but couldn’t tell if any of it had been used recently. He hadn’t exactly taken stock of his supplies at any point before he tried to kill himself. He walked up to a window and leaned his forehead against the cool glass with a sigh as he tried to push aside the loneliness that threatened to crush him once again.

John trudged back outside and made his way to the stables. As he neared them, he heard the familiar whinny of Jackie. At least he still had his horses, he thought with a bittersweet smile. He pushed open the door, stepped inside and then stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, hey. I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

The kid from the hospital stood in the middle of the stable, brushing Jackie. His smile as he was doing so was a content one, and far more sincere than the ones he had worn while under medical care.

John stood unmoving a moment longer before he could finally react. He marched forward and pulled the young man into a hug while joyous tears coursed down his face.

Author's Notes:

Note: this is merely a "what if he was right all along about all this being a dream" type of ending. It is not canon, and I intend all future work on this story to be based on the normal chapter 11.

Chapter 12

Honeycrisp sat on an examination table as he was being inspected by Dr Nurse Redheart. Two of his three children, Big Macintosh and Applejack, stood nearby. Though he had insisted that he was fine now that he remembered his true identity, they had dragged him to the hospital to be checked on anyway.

“So you mean to say that you have been in some kind of magical, nightmare stasis for twelve years and then after finally getting away by killing yourself in your dreams, you got into some poison joke which made you forget your life and believe that your nightmares were actually real, but now you’re okay because you’ve been cured of the poison joke?”

“That’s it in a nutshell.” Honeycrisp answered.

“Yup.” AJ responded at the same time.

“Ugh...” Redheart rubbed her temple with a hoof. “Poison joke cases are always such a headache.”

“Really? Why’s that?” Honeycrisp tilted his head curiously.

“Because we need to record and catalogue every new symptom that shows up. While most afflictions have a single file describing their effects and remedies, poison joke has an entire shelf dedicated to it. As far as I can recall, you’re the first case of a pony’s mind being affected by the stuff.”

“Not a single one of ‘em had their minds mixed up any? Ain’t that a bit weird?” Honeycrisp asked.

“A little weird is an understatement when it comes to poison joke. It’s rare to have the same symptoms twice, and if the stuff can mess with ponies’ minds now, then it’s about to become an even bigger headache for us. If we’re lucky, it only affected you that way by mixing in with whatever nightmare toxin was left in your system. If it did get mixed, that may explain why we failed to realize you were suffering from poison joke the last time you were in here. Too bad we don’t have a sample of that toxin from the wisps to run some tests on.”

“Ah could probably get Twilight to ask Zecora if she could get some next time she visits her if ya’d like.” Applejack offered.

“That would be greatly appreciated.” Redheart nodded at the suggestion.

“Is there anything else ya want me here for?” Honeycrisp pressed, eager to be away so that he could be properly reunited with the rest of his family. It was weird thinking back on his interactions with them while he thought he was a human. It had definitely been him the entire time, he could remember everything, he could still bring to mind the feeling of it all, and yet there was a disconnect regardless. It was hard to explain.

“Unless you need a refill on your medication already, no. I am obligated to tell you to stop taking so much of it if you do, though.”

“Nah, ah’ve got plenty left.”

“Then I’ll see you in a week or so for your next check up.”

“Are ya sure? There ain’t no test ya wanna run? Ah wouldn’t want to find out ya missed somethin’ an end up losin’ him cause of it.” Applejack prodded further, eliciting an eye roll from Honeycrisp.

“Fer the last time, ah’m fine, stop yer fussin’.” He told her. He knew she was just worried for him, but she was getting a little over bearing.

“Actually, there is one thing I can do.” Redheart leaned forward until her face was right in front of her patient’s. “No more running off into the Everfree Forest. I know you want to move around, but you really need to give your back a rest. Your medicine is to ease your pain, not let you act as if you weren’t injured to begin with. Understand?”

Honeycrisp sighed. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” The doctor stepped away from him and waved him off. “You are free to leave.”

Minutes later, the trio were outside of the hospital and Big Macintosh was helping his father into the wagon. As much as Honeycrisp wanted to walk, he knew there was no way they would let him after that warning from the doctor. They hadn’t even let him walk to the spa earlier, instead choosing to ferry him the entire way on Big Mac's back while Applejack went back home to fetch a wagon for any further transportation needs. At least he wasn't going to be carried like a foal anymore. He loved his son, but riding on his back was not only embarrassing, but uncomfortable too.

“So, did ya let the others know ah remember who ah am now?” He asked his daughter who was riding along beside him while Big Mac pulled the wagon.

“Nope!” She answered, rocking herself back and forth on her seat like an excited foal. “Ah thought ah’d let ya surprise ‘em!”

Honeycrisp smiled as he imagined the looks on their faces as he broke the news to them. A small part of him was nervous over the upcoming meeting, but mostly he was just excited. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. He could hardly wait to see them all again, but until then he settled for closely examining Applejack’s face.

Though rugged and a little rough around the edges, she was a beautiful young mare. She had her mother's gorgeous emerald green eyes. The way they sparkled with merriment and joy now reminded him tremendously of the long gone time when he and Rosewood would spend their afternoons just talking to each other as they sat in the farm's fields. He felt a slight pang in his chest.

“Ah bet Apple Bloom’s gonna have a million questions fer ya now ya’ve got yer memory back. Heck, ah got a few myself, but no sense havin’ ya answer everythin’ twice. Ah’ll wait ‘til we’re home first.” AJ paused as she noticed just how closely her father was examining her. “Uh...is there somethin’ on my face?”

“No, nothing like that.” John shook his head. “It’s jus’ that yer so big.”

“Uh...thanks, ah guess.” She raised an eyebrow at his words.

“I don’t mean yer fat or nothin’ like that, ah jus’ mean ya grew up. Ya’ll did.”

“Well, yeah,” AJ chuckled, “that tends to happen.”

“Yeah, ah guess it does.” He chuckled, though not as happily as his daughter had moments earlier. He spent the rest of the ride home contemplating what his twelve year absence actually meant for him.

The wagon rolled up on Sweet Apple Acres late in the afternoon. The farm seemed eerily quiet, almost as if the land itself were waiting for the arrival of the Apple family patriarch. Honeycrisp dismissed it as his imagination since the other two didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, or at least they didn’t give voice to any such observations anyway.

Honeycrisp thanked Applejack as she helped him down from the wagon. He carefully made his way to the front porch as she helped his brother remove the harness connecting him to the wagon. Honeycrisp thought about waiting for them to finish up before going inside, but figured they’d catch up soon enough. He brought himself before the front door, took a deep breath and then pulled it open.

“SURPRISE!”

Honeycrisp was bombarded with a wall of sound, confetti and balloons and was nearly knocked off his hooves by it. He probably would have fallen over had an assortment of hooves not reached out to grab him and drag him through the door. He was hauled, somewhat painfully for his back, through a crowd of ponies and placed at the head of the kitchen table in front of a large, white cake with pink frosting. On the top were the words: ‘Congratulations on getting your memo’.

“I ran out of room for the rest of the sentence.” A pink pony that he remembered as one of his daughter’s friends, Pinkie Pie he thought, admitted sheepishly.

“Huh...but...what?” Honeycrisp sputtered, overwhelmed by the crowd around him.

“It’s great to have ya back, Honeycrisp.” The familiar voice of his mother greeted his ears, and after a moment of searching through the wall of mostly unfamiliar faces he finally found her.

“How did ya know? AJ said she didn’t tell nopony yet.”

“I maaaay have bribed Aloe at the spa to let me know what happened.” Pinkie Pie confessed with a self satisfied grin.

John felt a hoof touch his side and looked down to see Apple Bloom.

“Are ya really my Dad this time?” She asked as she stared up into his eyes.

“Yes, ah’m really back!” He answered, suddenly finding himself staring intently at the familiar and yet unfamiliar face of his youngest child. She reminded him of Rosewood, perhaps even more than Applejack did. While Applejack may have had her mother’s eyes, Apple Bloom’s facial structure looked remarkably like a very young Rosewood.

“Ya ain’t gonna turn around an’ say yer some kind of robot or somethin’, right?” She asked with narrowed eyes.

“No.” He answered once again with a slight chuckle, shaking off the darker feelings that were trying to surface with his unbidden memories.

The young teenage filly’s suspicious face eased into a smile in response to his answer and she gave him a big hug.

“Good.” She said simply.

“Alright, everypony! Who wants some cake!?” Pinkie Pie shouted to the crowd, earning an enthusiastic chorus confirming that they did indeed want some cake.

The party went on long enough for Honeycrisp to lose track of time. He spent most of the celebration sitting and talking with a near endless stream of ponies, many of which he didn’t recognize the faces of but knew the names. Even those he did recognize were nearly foreign to him. It was amazing how much ponies could age in just twelve short years.

Somewhere in the chaos between the third and fourth impromptu dance that he was able to avoid thanks to the doctor's orders to rest his back, he had lost track of several of the most familiar faces in the crowd. Apple Bloom had run off with her two friends, and he was mildly concerned for what the three of them might be getting up to, though was in no condition to go chasing after the little fillies. Big Macintosh had slipped away with Cheerilee to somewhere more private. Granny Smith had fallen asleep on the couch after having several glasses of punch that she may or may not have been spiking with her own personal stash of hard apple cider. Applejack was the only one still around and conscious, though she was busy speaking with her friends.

Honeycrisp suddenly felt rather alone, despite the crowd of ponies around him that were revelling in Pinkie’s party. He excused himself from those nearby, saying he needed some fresh air, and slipped out the front door into the cool evening air. He walked off of the porch, giving the now customary wince of pain as he descended those couple of steps, wandered off a few metres onto the grassy yard and sat down, enjoying the feeling of the earth beneath him.

He tilted his gaze to the familiar starry sky and took a deep, calming breath. Everything else may have changed, but at least the night sky remained constant. He found his eyes drawn to the moon and tried to find the pattern of the mare on the moon. He was mildly frustrated to discover that he couldn’t. It seemed that he had been wrong, even the night sky had changed during his absence. He let out a sad sigh.

“Is something eatin’ at ya?”

Honeycrisp turned his eyes from the moon to see Applejack had followed him outside. He turned his gaze back to the heavens as she walked up beside him.

“Ah can’t find the mare on the moon.”

“Yeah, she’s gone now. Been gone ever since Nightmare Moon came back an’ we turned her back into Princess Luna with the elements of harmony.”

He had remembered hearing about Nightmare Moon’s return from Apple Bloom on their trip to her school, but he hadn’t realized that the markings on the moon had somehow actually been that villainess of legend.

“That ain’t all that’s on yer mind, is it?” She pressed as she stood over him. “Ya can tell me, we’re family.”

Honeycrisp thought a moment in silence before speaking. “It’s jus’...ah don’t really feel like ah belong.”

“That’s down right ridiculous, yer an Apple.”

“No,” Honeycrisp shook his head slowly as he continued searching the stars for familiar constellations, “that ain’t it. Everypony ah knew is older, an’ sometimes ah can barely recognize anythin'.”

He stopped for a moment. Applejack didn’t say anything, sensing that there was more he needed to get off his chest and that she just needed to wait to hear it.

“The three of ya, you an yer siblings, ya’ve grown up. Ah missed so much, things ah’ll never get to see now. Whenever ah look at ya, or anythin’ else for that matter, ah see what it used to be an’ ah have a hard time connectin’ that to what it is now. Everythin’ kept movin’ on forward ‘cept me, ah got left behind in the past.”

After several moments of silence, Applejack spoke up gently. “Ya done?”

“Yeah, ah’m done.” He answered with a sigh. He felt like he wasn’t really being clear enough in regards to what he felt, but he didn’t know how to word it any better than he had. If he tried, he’d probably just end up talking in circles.

“Ah ain’t gonna pretend to know what it’s like to be in yer boots, but ah can imagine bein’ mighty off put if I woke up tomorrow an’ everypony ah knew was a decade older.” She shuddered at the thought of it. “Ah realize that ya’ve missed a lot an’ yer feelin’ bad ‘cause of it, but if ya jus’ focus on what ya missed an what coulda been, yer gonna miss out on the memories ya can make in the here an’ now too.”

Honeycrisp mulled over her words. Was that what he was doing out there? Focusing so much on what he hadn’t the chance to experience that he was neglecting the present? Perhaps his daughter was right, he should focus more on what was sitting right in front of him.

“Hey, Jackie?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Would ya like to do some star gazin’ with me?”

Applejack smiled. “Ah’d love to.”

A gentle smile stretched across his muzzle as Applejack sat down next to him and turned her eyes upwards. Nothing was going to change that he felt bad about what he had missed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to move on. At that moment, staring at the canopy of stars above with his daughter, Honeycrisp knew that things were going to be okay.

Author's Notes:

Here's the extra chapter attempting to clear up some of the confusion that people had over what had actually happened and/or wrap up a couple extra things. Sorry it took so long.