Applejack’s hooves pounded against the sterile tile floor of the hospital, the pale green color of the floor and walls recalling the sickness of the place. Dashing around a corner, she leapt over a gurney, ignoring the angry shouts of the nurse pushing it as she glanced at the door numbers. “Two-oh-nine. Two-oh-seven. Two-oh-five…” Her hooves braced against the floor, the pony sliding to a halt before she butted open the door to room 203 with her head. “I came as soon as I heard!” Applejack shouted, her sides heaving as she burst into the room. “Is she okay?” Big Mac looked up from where he was standing vigil over the lone bed in the room. The big stallion’s eyes looked sunken, as if everything that had been filling them in had drained out. He glanced down next to him, where a trembling Apple Bloom looked up at him, her eyes seeming to hold the same question as the big stallion slowly shook his head. Rising to his hooves, he carefully stepped around the bed, moving over to Applejack’s side. “She ain’t woke up since we got here,” he said in a low voice. “The doctors told me, chances are she ain’t gonna.” Applejack’s shoulders shook as she looked down on the pony in the bed. Granny Smith looked smaller now, somehow, more shrunken and shriveled. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d have thought that the plastic tube stuck into her front leg was sucking her dry. Applejack’s vision blurred. “I shoulda been here.” The big stallion moved closer, pressing his shoulder against hers as he rested his head on top of hers, Applejack’s hat flattening out under his jaw. “Ain’t a thing you coulda done. “I coulda been there for her. Said something, before…” Applejack shuddered. “It ain’t your fault. No way nopony coulda seen this coming.” “Still, just deliverin’ some pies…” The big stallion put a hoof around Applejack’s shoulders and squeeze. “It [i]ain’t[/i] your fault.” Applejack swallowed and nodded slowly, lifting a hoof to rub at her eyes. “You tell Apple Bloom yet?” she whispered, her voice quivering. “Nope,” Big Mac said, looking back towards the bed as a tear which had somehow escaped the evacuation of its brethren trickled down his cheek. “Fact is, I don’t know what to say.” “I can hear you, you know,” Apple Bloom said, the filly sniffing as her eyes returned back to the pony in the bed, her ears pressing back against her bow. “Oh, sugar cube,” Applejack said, moving away from her big brother to wrap her little sister in a desperate hug, pulling the smaller pony’s head in against her chest. “I’m sorry.” Apple Bloom’s hooves wrapped around Applejack’s chest, the filly clinging to her big sister, sniffing muffledly, her tears flowing into Applejack’s coat. “I don’t want her to die.” Tears flowed down Applejack’s cheeks, warm droplets raining down onto her sister’s mane. Slowly, Applejack ran her hoof over the back of her sister’s head, then down her back, holding her close as she tucked her head in over her little sister’s ears. “I don’t either,” Applejack said, her shoulders shaking. “But it ain’t up to me.” She glanced at Big Mac. “Ain’t up to any of us.” “What about Twilight?” Apple Bloom lifted her head, trying to meet her big sister’s eyes. “Maybe we could ask her for a spell or somethin’?” Applejack did her best to smile even as tears rained down onto her little sister’s snout. “Oh, little sister. If Twilight could do something like that, do you think anypony would…” Applejack swallowed. “That anypony would have anything like this happen?” Apple Bloom trembled in her sister’s hooves. “It ain’t fair! It just ain’t fair!” She stomped her hoof against the floor. “It ain’t right that some ponies go on livin’ forever, ’n others have stuff happen like this.” Applejack screwed her eyes shut. “I know, sugar cube. But it ain’t their fault this happens.” Giving another shudder, she blinked a few times before opening her eyes, looking straight down into her sister’s. “But you know, she’s just goin’ to see Ma and Pa again ahead of the rest of us.” A third warm body joined them as Big Mac walked over and cast his hooves around both of his sisters’ backs, leaning against them, his wooden collar pressing into Applejack’s shoulder. “That’s right. They’re up there in Heaven, waitin’ for her.” Apple Bloom sniffed loudly. “I know. But it ain’t fair. Why can’t they just all stay here?” “It’s just the way things are,” Applejack said, her hooves tightening around her sister’s back even as she herself leaned into her big brother’s comforting embrace. The three ponies stayed there by Granny Smith’s bed, just breathing slowly and leaning into each other as the room’s clock slowly ticked away on the far wall. Eventually, Applejack pulled away from her siblings. Reaching up with her hoof, she rubbed at her eyes before glancing out the window at the night sky outside. “How long you two been here?” Big Mac sighed. “Since this morning.” Apple Bloom nodded her head miserably. “Before lunchtime.” “You don’t mean to tell me you two ain’t fed Apple Bloom a thing all day?” Applejack narrowed her eyes at her brother. Apple Bloom shook her head. “I got somethin’ from the cafeteria.” She wrinkled her snout. “It wasn’t very good, though.” “Heh, I bet.” Applejack glanced at Granny Smith’s bed, then sighed. “You should get on home, get some sleep in your real bed.” Apple Bloom frowned. “No. I’m stayin’ with you two.” Applejack set a hoof on each of her siblings’ shoulders. “I mean I think you [i]both[/i] should go home. You’ve done your good deed for the day, standin’ vigil for her. Now it’s my turn to do the same.” Big Mac glanced between Applejack and Granny Smith before leaning forward. “You don’t gotta do that all by yourself.” Applejack sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, lifting her head to meet her brother’s gaze. “I know. But you look tired. You both should get a [i]real[/i] meal in you and a good night’s rest. It’s bad enough as it is. If she gets worse…” Applejack glanced down at her hooves and sighed. “Sides, it ain’t fair to keep Apple Bloom here for this, and somepony outta look after her.” “I’m old enough now to take care of myself,” Apple Bloom said without much conviction. “I know you are,” Applejack said, smiling and bending down to nuzzle at her little sister. “But you got school, and homework, and a buncha other things. Ain’t fair to make you do all the chores too all by your lonesome.” Apple Bloom’s eyes watered. “But… you’re stayin’…” Applejack nodded. “Somepony’s gotta stay here with Granny Smith. Since I was gone all day, might as well be me tonight.” Her hoof slipped from her little sister’s shoulder to muss up her mane. “Besides, I’ll feel better knowin’ somepony like you’s around to help keep an eye on things back home.” The filly squared her shoulders and nodded. “You can count on me, sis.” “I know I can.” Applejack bent down to give her sister a kiss on the forehead, then straightened up to lean into her big brother’s neck. “You two take care of each other, ya hear?” “Eyup.” Big Mac lowered his head to nuzzle at Applejack, resting his cheek against the side of her face for a moment before he rose back up to all four hooves. “Alright, Apple Bloom. Time to get on home.” Apple Bloom rose up on her hind legs to lean over the bed, bending forward to give Granny Smith a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Granny.” Big Mac blinked a few times, then lifted one hoof to awkwardly pat at the old pony’s withered hoof before he started towards the door. Stopping at the threshold, he glanced back over his shoulder at Applejack. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Applejack nodded her head as she scooted up next to Granny Smith’s bed, resting her hooves next to the steel frame. “I’m sure.” “Alright.” He glanced back at Apple Bloom. “You comin’?” The smaller pony slid down off the bed, taking a few steps towards her big brother. Suddenly, she whirled around and wordlessly wrapped her hooves around one of Applejack’s forelegs. She nuzzled her face into her sister’s shoulder, leaving a couple damp smears where her cheeks touched Applejack’s orange coat, before leaning back and letting go. “Goodnight, sis.” “Goodnight.” Applejack gave her sister a pat on the head and a weak smile before she turned back towards the bed, her ears drooping as she looked at the dying pony at its center. Two pairs of hoofsteps moved towards the hall before the door creaked shut behind them with a final click. [hr] “Ah, Applejack. Twilight told me you would be here.” Applejack’s head jerked up from where it had been resting Granny Smith’s bed. “Princess Luna?” Luna nodded gravely, her starry mane and tail swirling behind her. “Indeed. I would bid you good evening, but I do not think it is a very good one for you.” Applejack swallowed and licked her lips. “Sorry. I must of drifted off for a second there, I didn’t hear ya come in.” Luna smiled gently, waving her hoof at their surroundings. “You are still asleep.” Applejack’s eyes flicked away from the bed. Gone were the drab walls of the room, replaced by endless sweeping plains of grass, dimly illuminated by the light of a sky filled with a million stars. “Oh.” Luna’s wing fell over Applejack’s back, the larger pony sitting down beside the smaller one, gazing down with her towards the ancient pony lying in the bed in front of them. “I am sorry to hear about your grandmother.” Applejack sighed heavily, her shoulders rising and falling beneath Luna’s wing. “It’s hard to believe she ain’t gonna be around much longer. I shoulda been there.” “From what Twilight told me, there was little you could have done.” “Twilight?” Applejack glanced around absently. “Oh, right. She came in before… I fell asleep, I guess. Barely remember what we said to each other.” “I am not surprised. Twilight said you were most distraught.” Luna looked down at the bed before them. Applejack followed the larger pony’s gaze. Here in the dreamscape, Granny Smith looked even more faded than in the waking world; her coat had lost its lutster, and she seemed strangely ephemermal, as if she were not entirely there. “I just… I always knew she was gonna pass someday. But I always thought it would be all peaceful-like. Like she’d be able to see her great-grandfoals, and be smilin’, and holdin’ my hoof while I said goodbye.” Applejack blinked again, trying to clear her eyes. “Heh. Guess I didn’t get enough outta me when I was awake if I’m still cryin’ here. Just look at me now.” She rubbed at her eye with the back of her hoof. “I’m sorry.” “We all feel sorrow at the passage of those we love.” Luna bowed her head. “Indeed, when I returned after my long absence from Equestria, it took me some time to truly come to terms with the fact that every pony but one I had known had passed.” Applejack swallowed. “I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t even think about that.” She leaned into the larger pony, lifting a hoof to rub her side. “I guess you never got to say goodbye either.” “No need to apologize, fair Applejack. I did not come here for your sympathy, though it is much appreciated.” Luna’s wing gave Applejack a squeeze before it relaxed, slipping away and folding back against Luna’s side. “Indeed, I came so that you might not suffer the same fate as I – that you might say goodbye to your grandmother.” “I appreciate that, Princess—” “You may call me Luna.” “Luna, then.” Applejack smiled weakly. “But I mean, she’s just as asleep here as she was out there.” “She can yet be reached,” Luna said, stepping forward towards the prone pony, her form seeming to loom over the bed. “There yet remains a door into her mind – a door you can enter, if you know how to find it.” Luna smiled. “Fortunately, I do.” “You mean… I can talk to her?” “Indeed. She is not so far gone yet that she does not dream.” Luna closed her eyes, her horn glowing. In the endless grassy plains, a thousand points of light began to rise up out of the grass – small glowing flowers, each of them shedding sparks of light into the night sky. Applejack’s eyes widened as the sparks rose up, then moved towards Luna’s horn before beginning to flow down in front of Granny Smith’s bed. Slowly but surely, the lights began to trace the outline of a rectangle, then a smaller one inside it. Hinges glowed as them formed, then wooden panels, before finally a handle materialized facing Applejack. Applejack turned towards Luna. “Thank you.” “You’re most welcome.” Luna’s horn glowed, twisting the handle, and light spilled out of the doorway as Applejack stepped into the room. Applejack blinked and looked around. She was back on Sweet Apple Acres, in her farmhouse. Sitting in her rocking chair was Granny Smith, the old pony slowly rocking back and forth as she looked out the window. Outside, she could hear the faint sound of laughter; a moment later, she saw a young filly bounce by the window, a familiar-looking Stetson perched on her head as she clung to her father’s back. Applejack forced herself to blink back her tears; there wasn’t time. “Hello, Granny.” Granny Smith turned her head towards Applejack. “Oh, hello there, Applejack! What are you doin’ in here? I thought you were outside playin’ with yer Pa.” Applejack’s vision swam behind a veil of tears. “Sorry, Granny. This is just a dream. Princess Luna sent me here… to say goodbye.” “Goodbye? What’choo talkin’ about?” Granny Smith swung her chair forward, the old pony landing on four surprisingly sturdy legs – legs that Applejack could nevertheless see through. “You’re dyin’, Granny. I’m sorry. You went down in the kitchen while I was out deliverin’ pies through the swamp, and I didn’t hear tell ’bout it ’til I got back to Ponyville.” A bit of the gleam went out of Granny Smith’s eyes. “Oh.” She sighed. “Well, I think we both knew that was gonna happen one of these days.” Granny Smith turned around and peered at her rocking chair before poking it with a weathered hoof, the wooden chair creaking as it slowly rocked back and forth. “Hmph. Seems real enough to me. But I guess you can’t be at two places at the same time, no matter what that unicorn friend of yours does.” Applejack rubbed at her face with her hoof. “She’s an alicorn now, Granny. Remember?” “Course I remember. Mind’s as sharp as a whip.” The old earth pony hobbled forward to stand in front of Applejack, peering up into her granddaughter’s face. “Now what are you cryin’ for?” “I’m just… I’m gonna miss you, Granny.” Applejack sniffed and smiled weakly, leaning forward to nuzzle at the older mare. Granny Smith’s scowl turned into a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you too.” She leaned forward, lifting one hoof to put it around her granddaughter’s neck. “It’s gonna be a long while ’fore I see you again. Least it had better be.” Applejack laughed as she clung to the older mare, squeezing her with her hooves. “I hope so too. Say hello to Ma and Pa for me.” “I will.” Granny Smith returned the hug before leaning back on her haunches, suddenly grabbing Applejack by the cheeks so she could look her in the eye. “You’d better have plenty of stories to tell me ’bout my great-grandchildren. And great-great grandchildren. I don’t want any excuses. Not from your brother or from you neither. You tell him that Miss Cheerilee can come ’round whenever she likes, she can even have my old bedroom if she wants to wait a while before she starts sharin’ it with him.” Applejack laughed again, her eyes watering. “You know it ain’t like that between them.” “An old mare can dream.” She let go of her granddaughter’s face to prod at Applejack’s chest with an all-too-ephermeral hoof. “That goes for you, too. You don’t got any excuses. I don’t want to hear none of your backtalk. I know you ain’t had your eye on a lot of stallions, but I’m open minded. I know they let mares adopt in Canterlot these days, so if’n you end up with that pegasus that looks like a zap apple, or that fussy unicorn of yours, you can still have foals.” “Granny…” Applejack’s cheeks colored. “Or maybe that alicorn friend of yours. I’m sure Twilight could cook up a spell or two so you wouldn’t haveta find some nice stallion to help.” “Granny!” Applejack stomped her hoof sharply. The old mare cackled. “Just remember, you—er, you hear somethin’?” “What?” Applejack pricked her ears. “Some sorta beepin’…” Granny Smith tilted her head. Everything went dark. [hr] “You need to go!” Applejack’s eyes jerked open as the doctor pulled on her shoulder with her hoof. Beside her, Granny Smith lay terribly still, the monitor beside her bed emitting a high-pitched whine. A dark wing descended around her shoulders, and a moment later, Applejack found herself out in the hallway, Princess Luna standing by her side. Applejack swallowed. “This ain’t a dream, is it?” Luna shook her head sadly. “No. I’m afraid your grandmother has passed. I felt her dream end as she did.” “O-oh.” Applejack’s legs trembled as she looked back in through the door of the room as the doctors worked. She let out a long, slow breath. “Least I got to say goodbye.” Luna nodded her head gravely, her wing tugging Applejack in closer against her side. “I am glad I was able to assist you.” Applejack nodded, then smiled thinly. “You know… after all that, I don’t feel near as bad as I thought I would. I guess… I really did get to say goodbye this time.” Luna beamed. “I am plased you are taking it so well.” “Yeah.” Applejack glanced back into the room, her ears pricking. “Princess, if you don’t mind me askin’… were you watchin’ us?” “Yes. It was necessary to maintain your link. But do not worry. I will not tell anyone of what you saw.” “Thanks. But uh… that weren’t actually really what I was wonderin’ about.” She reached up to rub her head under her hat. “It’s just… well, I always heard a lot about dyin’. You know, a white light at the end of the tunnel. Standin’ in front of the pearly gates. I didn’t see nothin’ like that.” Luna tilted her head. “Why would you?” “Well, I just kind of figured… you’d see a bit of Heaven in a dyin’ dream.” “Heaven?” Luna blinked, then leaned down cautiously, looking Applejack in the eye. “Fair Applejack. You mentioned that your parents had passed when you were very young. Did your grandmother never tell you that there was no such place?”