Applejack brought the covers up as Apple Bloom yawned softly, tucking her into bed.

“G’night, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said with a smile.

“Applejack?” Apple Bloom softly said.

“Hmm?”

Apple Bloom sat up a little straighter, but kept her gaze on the sheets. “…What were our parents like?”

Applejack lowered her hat over her eyes. “Aw, shoot, Apple Bloom—ya know I don’t like talking ‘bout that kinda stuff.”

“But why not?” Apple Bloom couldn’t stop her fidgeting hooves. “Why don’t ya ever talk about ‘em?”

Applejack sighed quietly and took a seat on her bed. It seemed like Apple Bloom wasn’t about to let this go.

“I was real little when it happened,” Applejack said, barely above a whisper. “Mosta what I know about ‘em comes from Big Mac and Granny. I hardly remember anything about ‘em myself.” Applejack took a steady breath. “Talkin’ ‘bout ponies I hardly know don’t sit right with me. Feels like I’m talkin’ behind their backs.”

Apple Bloom couldn’t decide where to look.

“Well,” she started slowly, “what do ya remember?” She slowly brought her pleading eyes up to Applejack’s. “You can talk about that, right?”

Applejack shook her head with a wry chuckle.

“Yeah,” she finally said. “I suppose I can.” Applejack closed her eyes for a moment and let the blurry images of her memories come to her.

“Daddy was the strongest pony ya’d ever see. He could darn-near buck a tree in half if he wanted to.” Applejack nodded to herself. “And when he wasn’t workin’ on the farm, he’d be practicin’ for the next rodeo.” Applejack tilted her hat back. “He’d let me wear his hat while I watched.”

Apple Bloom smiled to her.

“Momma was real pretty,” Applejack continued, “and she was always tryin’ to teach me how to cook.” She chuckled softly, a distant look in her eyes. “I couldn’t cook to save my life. Think I burned or messed up just about everythin’ we ever made together.”

“Really?” Apple Bloom tilted her head. “But yer a great cook.”

Applejack nodded slowly. “I found myself a reason to get a lot of practice.”

Apple Bloom bit her lip and looked down at the sheets.

“Hey,” Applejack said, lifting Apple Bloom’s chin with a smile, “y’know she’d spend every mornin’ gettin’ that bow in yer mane? No matter how much fussin’ ya did?”

Apple Bloom slowly started smiling again. “Mmhmm.”

“Big Mac says Daddy would always give her a hard time about it,” Applejack continued. “He’d tease her and say we got our stubborn streak from her. And then Momma’d say that we get it him.”

“I always thought we got it from Granny,” Apple Bloom said with a smile.

Applejack chuckled perhaps the most genuine laugh she’d let out all night. “Yeah, yer probably right.” Applejack took a deep breath and looked at her little sister. “Y’know ya look just like Momma?”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Granny says the same thing.”

“And Big Mac is practically the spittin’ image of Daddy.” Applejack nodded to herself slowly. “I guess that’s about it.” Applejack pushed herself off the bed.

Apple Bloom yawned softly. “Do ya remember anythin’ else?”

Applejack walked up to her and ran a hoof through her mane.

“Hush now, Little Apple,
Yer loved by all you know.
You’ll never lose their friendship,
No matter where ya go.
There ain’t no call to worry,
So don’t ya cry or fret.
A cutie mark won’t change you,
No matter what you get.”

Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes in thought. “‘Little Apple’? You always sing it ‘little sister’.”

“Momma sang it ‘little Apple’.” Applejack took a deep breath. “Back then, we were Big Mac and Little Apple.”

“Ya were?” Apple Bloom sat up again. “But if she sang that you… Applejack, were you nervous about yer cutie mark, too?”

Applejack nodded. “Last pony in my class, remember?”

Apple Bloom fell back onto her pillow.

“But one day,” Applejack said, “I went from ‘Little Apple’ to ‘big sister’.” A smile slowly grew across her face. “And I’d rather be yer big sister any day.”

“Thanks, Applejack.” Apple Bloom smiled softly. “For everythin’.”

“Go on and get some sleep,” Applejack said. “I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”

Apple Bloom closed her eyes. “G’night, Applejack.”

“Night, little sis.”

Applejack closed the door and leaned against the opposite wall. After a few shaky breaths, she dragged a hoof across her muzzle and continued down the hall.

It took its toll, sometimes, always crying on the inside.