The gravesite was a tiny one; three gravestones atop a small hill, sheltered by a lone apple tree that nopony ever harvested. The branches were bare and dead now, and the sky overhead was grey as ash.

Applebloom and Pinkamena could see Applejack's silhouette at the hilltop. She was sitting by the tombstones of her mother, father and grandfather, her head hanging low, not moving. Fluttershy was standing there as well; her posture seemed strange, almost hostile... they hesitated at the foot of the hill, then cautiously made their way up the trail to the top.

To their surprise they met Mac on his way back down. He marched past them stiff legged, his jaw clenched in anger. "Big MacIntosh, is somethin' wrong?" Applebloom asked.

"Nuthin' wrong," Mac grated out.

Pinkamena took note that the lifeless pallor had not, in fact, returned to his coat and mane. "Why'd you leave your sister up there alone like that, Mac?" she asked carefully.

Mac stood at the bottom of the hill, his back to them. She could see his shoulders clenching. "That mare up there ain't my sister," he snapped. "Not no more."

Applebloom's jaw dropped. "Big Macintosh..." she said. She obviously couldn't believe her ears.

Pinkamena walked around to look Big Mac in the face. The pain in his eyes was shocking. "Mac," she said. "Whatever happened up there-- you have to remember that this is not normal--"

"That ain't my sister, Miss Pie," he insisted, his throat working. "What she... what she tole me she did-- no sister o' mine would ever do that!" He was almost pleading.

Pinkamena mentally ran down a checklist of grim possibilities, and meta-possibilities. "And no sister did, Mac," she said with certainty. "Come on, we're going up there and you're coming with. You two--" she pointed at Applebloom and Big Macintosh-- "stay quiet until I say otherwise. Got it?" The two nodded.

When they got close enough to see clearly, Pinkamena realized it was far worse than she'd thought. Applejack's hat was missing. It was her last memento of her father, or so Pinkamena had heard. That hat stuck on Applejack's head through hell and high water. For it to be gone meant Bad Things.

She got closer and it got worse. Applejack's long blonde mane and tail were gone, cut down to a prison-cut burr... it went right along with the prison orange uniform she was wearing. She was thinner, too, with hollows in her cheeks and under her eyes. Pinkie could see old cuts and still healing bruises; wherever the enemy had sent her, it had been ugly.

She had manacles around her forehooves.

Nearby stood the shadowy specter of a prison guard, eating his lunch and looking bored and restless. Another specter stood there too; Fluttershy. She was standing across the graves from Applejack, not speaking, not moving. The cold hateful look on her face was chilling. Behind her stood two more shadowy forms-- her father and mother, Pinkamena guessed-- and at a distance, observing, stood the specters of Celestia and Luna, little more than one white silhouette and one indigo one. They towered over the others and looked down on Applejack with impassive, aloof expressions.

Applejack was talking to the Fluttershy specter. "...They let me out, just t'day, when they heard Granny was dyin'," she said. "To say goodbye b'fore--" she swallowed. "--- t' give her a chance to forgive me... b'fore..."  She looked up at Fluttershy, pleading. "Please, Fluttershy. There ain't been a day gone by I hain't regretted doing what I did. I know I'm gonna die in that prison.... and ifn' I don't I'll be an old gray mare by the time I walk back out. My own family turned their backs on me. But I can't go on livin' at all knowin' you don't forgive me." Tears dripped down her muzzle. "Please, Fluttershy..."

The Fluttershy standing before her said nothing; she just looked away. Applejack choked back a sob.

Pinkamena listened, frowning. She got to her feet and walked in a wide circle around the little tableau. As soon as she passed the spectral fluttershy, the image rippled like corrugated paper and faded away, revealing a very real and rather bewildered-looking Fluttershy standing in the same place. "--are you talking about, Applejack? Forgive what? I'm sure I would, but I don't understand..."

"Ooh, a Rashomon field," Pinkamena muttered. "And directionally polarized. This guy's good."

Fluttershy heard her. "Oh thank goodness you're here, Pinkamena!" she said. "Poor Applejack-- she saw me and looked like she'd seen a ghost! The things she's telling me she's gone through, it's just awful...she's been sent to prison-- for life! And why is she a prisoner? I can't get any answers..."

Pinkamena patted Fluttershy on the shoulder. "Don't bother, sweetie; she can't hear anything you're saying right now."

"What?" Fluttershy said.

"The bad guy's forcing the perspective," Pinkamena simplified. "Basically putting blinders on so that you don't see anything but what he wants. " She pulled out a fedora with a PRESS card in the hatband and slapped it on her own head. "Let's find out what backstory got spliced onto her." She marched up to the ghostly Princesses, a pen and notepad in hoof. "Excuse me your Highnesses." The two spectres looked down at her, aloof. "Pinkamena, Foal Free Press. So tell us, who exactly is the convict, and why is she here?"

"She is Applejack, of the Apple family, the former Bearer of the Element of Honesty," the pseudo-Celestia said. "She is here as a royal benevolence, to see her grandmother one last time before she passes."

"Uh huh," Pinkamena said. She wondered briefly what these one-concept railroaded bits of ambulatory narrative would do if she told them Granny was actually doing fine and was getting better, but let it pass. "We understand she was sent to prison for thirty years to life. For the record, of what crime was she convicted?"

Pseudo-Luna spoke. "For the attempted murder of Fluttershy's newborn child."

There was a gasp of horror behind her; Pinkamena was fairly sure it was from Fluttershy. Applebloom jumped over the gravestones and spoke up defiantly. "My sister would NEVER do anything like that!"

PseudoCelestia's eyes were merciless. "She confessed."

Applebloom shook her head. "No!"

"But I did," Applejack said, her voice almost inaudible. "I... I did."

"But Applejack-- I don't have a baby!" Fluttershy protested. "I mean, Big Macintosh just started talking about dating, we haven't even--" she blushed suddenly.

To her bewilderment, Applejack spoke over top of her, as if she hadn't heard. "It was a week after Discord Junior was born," she said. "I--"

Fluttershy let out a mouselike shriek. "Discord?!? You think Discord and I would---" she cringed. "Not that he's awful or anything, I mean he is trying to be a better person, and it's bad to say bad things about a friend, but oh really, he's really not what I want in a special somepony. Really, Applejack, he and I are just friends. We don't have a baby!"

Again, Applejack acted as if she'd not heard a thing. "I knew what I had to do..." she said. "Or I thought I did..."

Fluttershy looked back and forth. "Why can she hear Celestia and Applebloom but not me?" she protested.

Pinkamena shrugged. "The Rashomon Filter on her is only letting her see and hear whatever makes her feel worse."

Applebloom crept up to Applejack, worry and pity in her eyes. "Applejack... what'd you do...?"

Applejack looked up, anguish in her face. "None of y'all ever told her??"

Pinkamena seized the opportunity. "It's part of your punishment, Applejack," she said. "She has to hear it from you." Fluttershy gasped, but Pinkamena didn't flinch. Even when Applejack started tearing up again.  The farmpony lay down in the grass next to Applebloom, refusing to meet her eye. She started to talk in a voice raw with grief.

"About ten years ago, not even a year after that mess with Tirek, Somethin' happened that absolutely terrified me," she said. "Discord and Fluttershy up and got married. I couldn't believe it; she was up and romancin' with the same sonuvagun who'd betrayed us all and nearly destroyed Equestria. Again! And now Fluttershy was right in bed with him! If he every turned on us, the Elements would be useless. I couldn't believe he was reformed. All I could see was a powerful, terrifyin' chaos monster who'd just bide his time... again... and try to destroy us all... again... the moment our backs were turned.

"And then... and then they had a baby." She shuddered. "He looks just about like his old man, too. And he practically came outta the womb throwing chaos magic around. It was worse than I'd imagined. Now the two-timing varmint had an heir! One who'd probably be even MORE powerful than he was-- with chaos magic AND pony magic. And sure as sugar he was gonna take after his mind-scramblin', backstabbin', world-destroyin' daddy.

"He's just a baby... just an innocent little baby. And any fool could see that Discord doted on him and Flutters both. But I convinced myself that Fluttershy was a brainwashed fool, that my friends all had the wool pulled over their eyes... that the only way to save Fluttershy, an' Ponyville, an' the world-- was to get rid of that baby." She swallowed. "So, while everyone was sleeping, I sneaked into their house, put Discord Junior in a basket, carried him out into the Everfree and left him there." She clenched her eyes shut and ground her teeth. "I left Fluttershy's baby out in the wilderness to die. If Zecora hadn't found him..."

"No..." Applebloom said, putting her hooves to her mouth.

Applejack only nodded. "I've spent every day for the past ten years in prison, regrettin' and repentin'... your brother can't even look at me. The whole Apple clan turned their back on me..." She hung her head. "An' now you will too, I suppose. It's no more'n I'd expect, or deserve." Were it possible the bleak surroundings turned even more ashen.

"No! No sister o' mine would do that!" Applebloom said angrily, jumping to her feet. Applejack flinched at the words. "No, I don't mean it like that!" Applebloom protested. "I--"

Suddenly Pinkamena pushed her aside. She pulled an enormous spray can out of her saddlebag and filled the air with choking white smoke. Everything in the immediate area slowed to a standstill. Even the ripples in Pseudo-Celestia's hair froze. "What was that?" Applebloom coughed, waving the clouds away from her face.

Pinkamena held up the can and grinned. "Movie time, in aerosol form," she said. "Ever wonder why it takes five minutes for the thirty-second counter on a bomb to tick down in a movie? Well now you know." She put away the can and pulled an odd looking device out of her panniers. It was a tangle of cables, buttons and meters. She stuck several sticky tabs to Applejack's side and something like a thermometer into the farmpony's mouth. Several seconds' twiddling with the dials produced some odd beeps and squeals, and a disgruntled expression on Pinkamena's face. "Yup, thirty eight percent," she said, sighing. "That ain't good."

"What's that?" Applebloom said.

"An OOC meter," Pinkamena said, stowing the artifact away. "It measures just how far out of character she is." She grunted. "And it doesn't look good."

"You mean she's really out of character?" Fluttershy asked.

"I mean that she's almost thirty eight percent IN character," Pinkamena said. "Thirty eight percent is enough in-character for it to be something you think you might do-- or deep down, you're afraid you might do."

Big Macintosh grunted. "That was what.... that was what I figgered on," he muttered. "When I got up here, an' AJ told me that story." He shook his head. "That can't be mah sister. It can't! Applejack would never even think of hurtin' a foal."

"You mean she really would... try to kill my baby??" Fluttershy said, horrified.

"But it's not real! It's all in her head!" Applebloom said.

"That only makes it worse," Pinkamena said patiently to the filly.  "That's where all her fears are. 'Possible' and 'likely' ain't the same thing... but right now, try and tell her fears that."

She looked at Big Mac. "And 'would never?'

"Lemme tell you a story," Pinkamena said. "There was an earth pony mare, lived out on the frontier. Just her, her husband, and her foal, a newborn. The husband had to go to the city for something or other, had to leave her all alone for days on end.

"While he was gone, a band of rogue gryphons came through. That happened sometimes-- gryphons would come through, find a helpless, lonely settlement, the stallions gone, and they'd rob and loot and kill and burn. She saw 'em coming and took the foal and hid in the root cellar. The gryphons started carousing around outside, doing who knows what...

Then the foal started crying. She tried to shush it, tried to soothe it. It only cried louder. So she covered its mouth, gentle as she could, to stifle its cries... The gryphons found the door to the root cellar  and tore it open. They just laughed at her; they were drunk off their tails and not looking for trouble. They swiped the settler's whiskey jug off the table and flew off.

But the baby was dead.  She'd smothered it, trying to keep it from being heard.

"Another one for you. War story, since you seem to have spent a little alternate reality time there." Macintosh twitched but said nothing. "A squad of soldiers escorting a refugee woman and her baby through enemy territory. They got cornered by a patrol, one that seriously outnumbered them. They hunkered down in the brush waiting for them to leave-- and the baby started crying. The sergeant smothered the baby's cries with one hand.... the patrol moved on. But that soldier came within a hair of killing that baby, to save the lives of his soldiers and the woman they were transporting.

"Never is a pretty big claim, big guy. Deep down, we all know that in just the wrong circumstances, we could all do horrible, horrible things. Like I said, 'possible' and 'likely' ain't the same thing. But no matter how unlikely it is... there's still that little sliver of a chance.  And being the Element of Honesty probably didn't make it easier. She can't lie to herself and blame it on bad gravy at dinner. She knows darn good and well that if things were wrong enough she could do something like that, so the Toxic Nihilist had a jim-dandy easy time convincing her she did.

"Her best friends get brainwashed by a traitorous Chaos god, one of 'em gets knocked up by him and gives birth to what might be the pony Antichrist? Oh heck yeah, all sorts of things come into the realm of possibility."

The others looked at her, stunned. Fluttershy still looked torn. "I... how can I ever look at her the same....?" she said. "My friend... would kill a baby?"

Pinkamena scowled. She reached over and forced the pegasus' head to turn so she was looking at Applejack. "Take a LOOK at her, 'Shy," she said. Pinkamena tapped her own nogging with a hoof. "Look at those manacles. Look at those cuts and bruises. She spent nine years in her own head in prison, probably as a living toilet. She spent every imaginary day of it hating herself and regretting what she almost did. Darn right you should never look at her the same."

The most familiar expression, compassion, flooded Fluttershy's face. "How do we help her?"

"She's alone, condemned, every pony she ever loved turned their back on her," Pinkamena said. "What do you think she needs? Think fast, the movie time is about to wear off."

The last of the drifting white mist faded away. Applejack looked around, locked guilt filled eyes with Fluttershy. Fluttershy didn't need to be told what Applejack needed. She closed the distance between her and the farmpony and caught her in an embrace. "It's okay, Applejack," she said. "I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you...."

Applejack clung to her like a child, sobbing her heart out.

"There there... you're sorry for what you did, I know...." Fluttershy ran one comforting hoof down Applejack's burr-cut mane. As her hoof passed, rippling waves of cornsilk blonde tumbled down the mare's neck. Her bobbed tail suddenly bloomed out into a long golden plume. the prison manacles shattered like glass; the prison orange jumper shredded to cobwebs and blew away. The grass turned from grey to emerald and the dead tree by the graves budded with new life.

Big Macintosh sidled up awkwardly, Applejack's hat in his mouth. "Found this on the hillside," he muttered. "Figured you'd be wantin' it back." He rested it on her head. She pulled it off and cradled it, sniffling and wiping her nose on her hock.

"You tol' me I weren't worthy of it no more," she croaked feebly-- and the air went out of her lungs in a whoosh as two massive red forelegs caught her in a crushing bearhug.

"Don't you never b'lieve that, lil sis," Big Macintosh choked. "Even if I say it, I'm lyin'. Apples don't abandon our own. EVER. "

"Mac..." Applejack said. "Can't... breeeeathe..." Big Macintosh sheepishly loosened his grip so Applejack could gasp for air.

Applebloom burrowed in from the side. "You're an Apple, and even if you WERE a bad Apple you're OUR Apple!"

Sounds of absolute bawling came from behind them. They turned to see Fluffyshy and Angel Bunny crying and blowing their noses into kerchiefs. "Too many FEELS!" Fluffy said as Angel sniffled and honked. Laughing, the others pulled them into the group hug (for once Angel Bunny didn't fuss.)

"And now for a little cleanup exorcism," Pinkamena said. She strutted over to the lingering specters. She glared at the pony prison guard. "Beat it! Go chase a donut!" she yelled. The guard yipped, turned to run and vanished in a puff of smoke.

"And as for you two," she said to the pseudo-princesses. "You're a total writer's turd. Your boss wants us to think that Celestia would forgive her sister for nearly dooming the world to eternal night, and they would forgive Discord for going on a chaos rampage THREE TIMES, but they would take Applejack and throw her in pound-in-the-butt prison for LIFE? Hell, the real Princesses are probably talking about offering Tirek a parole hearing! The two of them are literal embodiments of compassion and forgiveness, and passing them off as a pair of condemning tyrants is a farce!  You're a joke, you're crap, you're literary misery guts! GET OUTTA HERE!" The two fake princesses, battered into submission by the verbal barrage, gave her one miffed look and vanished in a swirl of indigo and white.

Pinkamena then turned to face the shadow-Fluttershy that was still standing there. "And as for you--"

"HOW DARE YOU?"

Pinkamena gawped as a buttercup-and-pink blur launched itself at the ghostly mare, knocking her to the ground with a very solid impact. Fluttershy stood over Flutterfake, glaring down at her with all the fury in her tender little heart. "NINE YEARS!" she shouted. "For Nine YEARS you refused to forgive her-- Even though she begged you for it. Even though she admitted she was wrong, even though she regretted it and repented of what she did, even though she was all alone and dying inside! You're a TERRIBLE pony, and you should FEEL terrible! I'm NEVER going to be like you!"

There was an audible "fwert." "Interesting," Pinkamena said drolly. "I didn't think specters of bad writing could soil themselves..."

"Now go away and never come back," Fluttershy said, still glaring. The Flutterspecter said "meep" and popped like a balloon, vanishing in a puff of pink.

Fluttershy looked up at Pinkamena, her lower lip quivering. "Oh please, please promise me I'll never be like that..." she said.

"No promises, Flutters," Pinkamena said. Then she gave a half-smirk. "But 'possible' and 'likely' ain't the same thing."

They reconvened in the Apple farmhouse living room. Applejack had finally shaken off the delusions of the rewrite, but she was still looking a bit shaky and feeling a bit insecure. The others, Granny included, huddled closer to her. "That was... that was awful," she said. "I never wanna feel nuthin' like that ever again. I could remember all of it... all nine years of being abandoned and imprisoned and everything... and nine years of thinking I'd tried to kill a foal--" she shook her head. "It's all gone now, like a bad dream. But I still ...remember rememberin' it, if you know what I mean..."

Pinkamena made an understanding noise. "If it makes you feel any better, think about it this way. The worst think our Grimdork could manage to convince you that you'd do was abandon a foal in the woods. Even doing his worst, he couldn't get you to raise a hoof to one yourself." She shuddered. "Remind me to tell you about the one that made me into an Outcast sometime. Or better yet, remind me to NEVER tell you about it. You'll puke every time you see a cupcake." She finished pushing Granny's old dressing mirror in place.

"So what's the next step in taking out this son of a crabapple?" Applebloom said.

"Applebloom! Language!" Applejack scolded.

"Eh, I'm with the youngun'," Granny said. She checked her shotgun and her belt of shells. "I say we find him and let me give him a double-barreled rock salt suppository."

"Well, this guy's proving nasty," Pinkamena said. "You were pretty near the breaking point, Applejack. You could have schismed. And as much as I'd enjoy the company, I don't want to end up roomies in the Mirrorside with AppleJailbird." She pulled the dustcloth off the mirror and gave the glass a quick wipe. "So we need to go get a little more backup before we rescue the others. Don't go talking about this all over, Okay?  I'm going to get in enough trouble as it is for doing this, but we're gonna need to take a little detour through my back yard." She pulled out an old skeleton key and tapped it to the glass. The mirror chimed, then rippled like mercury. "Come on, last one in is a rotten apple!" she stepped through the rippling quicksilver and disappeared.

The others hesitated. Pinkamena's head popped back out. "Well c'mon!" she vanished again. The group looked at each other, then carefully, single file, they stepped their way through the shimmering mirror. There was a final "Oh... my..." then a long pink tail disappeared through the quicksilver surface. With a quiet pop, the mirror returned to its normal solid shape, leaving the Apple farmhouse quiet and still.