T4M 3: Dream a Little Dream

>The sun hangs low in the sky by the time you reach the edge of Sweet Apple Acres.
>As far as you can see, the rolling grassy hills are thick with apple trees all covered in ripening fruit.
>There’s no sign of any ponies around, apart from the three fillies at your side.
>It’s a relief, but still, worries circle your mind like a hungry wolfpack around their prey.
>Apple Bloom’s family run this farm, apparently – this is their property, their home.
>And if they find you here… so much for your newfound freedom.
>Back to a life of being studied, watched, confined.
>You don’t remember enough to know exactly why that scares you so much, and focusing on what memories you do have
plastic trays of mushy food
strangers’ uncaring hands probing this, flexing that, changing your pyjamas, cleaning you, putting pills and needles into your body, peering at the displays of the machines surrounding you
a smell of urine
a scream
a screeching of metal on metal
darkness
pain
 >is like picking at a scab with the wound raw and festering beneath.
>You don’t need to know why, though: all you need to know is that you’re going to stay free.
>You can take care of yourself now.
>‘You okay, Annie?’
>Sweetie Belle’s voice shakes you from your thoughts.
>The white unicorn is looking up at you with concern in her eyes; you’re breathing heavily, and your fists have been clenched so tight that you leave painful red nail-marks in your palms when you relax them.
‘…yeah. Yeah, sure I’m okay.’
>You blink your eyes; they feel dry and strange.

>A ways ahead of you, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom are arguing heatedly about whether Rainbow Dash or Applejack would be the best pony to take on the Predator in single combat.
>You may be partially responsible for getting them started down that road.
>What else were you s’posed to do, let them think they’d impressed you with their stories of some lame-o half-lion-half-scorpion-half-bat thing?
>That’s three halves, it doesn’t even make sense.
>You paid attention in math class; who did these fillies think they were fooling?
>‘Dash is way too fast for it to even hit her. She’d run rings around that thing.’
>‘Nuh uh! Annie said it has, like, super senses heightened by SCIENCE. Ah bet it’d see Dash comin’ a mile off an’ blow her outta the sky with its GUMS.’
>‘…they’re called guns, you dork. And no it wouldn’t.’
>‘Annie said “gums”.’
>‘Guns.’
>‘Gums.’
>‘Annie, tell Apple Bloom that the Predator doesn’t shoot stuff with “gums”.’
‘To be precise,’ you say with an air of authority, ‘you’re both wrong. The Predator has a -plasma caster-, but that’s not ‘xactly a gun, even though it shoots stuff. It’s the -humans- in the movie who use guns.’
>Not for nothing had you spent years creeping into your brother’s room late at night to snuggle up in his blankets and watch action movies with him.
>’See?’ Scootaloo crows as she rounds back on Apple Bloom. ‘Guns. Not gums.’
>‘FINE. Then Ah bet it’d blow Dash outta the sky with its PLASMA CASTLE. Now’re ya happy?’
>‘Pffft…’
>The two fillies continue their argument, and you and Sweetie Belle walk side by side in silence, sharing a smile of amusement at your friends.

>She speaks up after a moment in a quiet voice, guessing at the reasons for your earlier distress.
>‘You really don’t need to worry, Annie. Nop0ny would hurt you, even if you -did- get found out. It’s just, it’ll be more fun if we keep you a secret, so for now-’
‘Forget it,’ you say roughly.
>Sweetie looks a little taken aback.
‘I don’t even wanna talk about it, okay? I’m fine with staying hidden. MORE than fine.’
>‘…okay. I just don’t want you to be scared.’
‘I’m not scared,’ you say reflexively. ‘I’m -not-.’
>‘…or lonely.’
>You give a snort of disapproval as you turn to look at her incredulously.
‘Lonely? Why would I be lonely?’
>‘I would be,’ she says softly. ‘If I woke up somewhere strange, away from my family and friends.’
>She walks closer to you, her flank brushing lightly against your leg as she looks up earnestly at you.
>You stop walking, looking down at her, preparing an angry retort – you don’t even know why you’re angry, or why a sob is threatening to choke out any words you might say.
>You open your mouth but nothing comes out, and for a moment you just look down at the white filly in silence.
>She’s looking up at you with those big green eyes, her gaze full of sympathy and concern.
>The anger fades away, and you lay a hand on her head.
>You’re calm.
>The pink and purple curls of her mane are soft to the touch, like cotton wool.
‘…I can look after myself, okay? And I’m sure I’ll get back to them soon.’
>‘…yeah…’
>Sweetie Belle looks away, and you cast your own gaze back to the vista in front of you.
>The orchards look lovely with the sun going down over them, the trees casting long slanting shadows in the rose-tinted light.
>The sky is a dark, hazy blue, with not a cloud in sight.
>As you watch, a brilliant rainbow arcs from the horizon and splits the azure sky like a seamstress’s scissors through a virgin piece of fabric.

>Wait.
>A rainbow?
>In a clear sky with no rain anywhere in sight?
‘uhh… Sweetie?’
>You point to the rainbow tracery even as it changes course and begins tacking across the sky in a zig-zag pattern.
>‘Oh, no! Quick, Annie! Hide!’
>Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, obviously having seen the same thing, race back towards you.
>You find yourself tugged under the limbs of a particularly thick and bushy apple tree.
>The leafy branches hang low to the ground, and it’s not too difficult to grab hold of one and swing yourself up onto it, encouraged by the urging of the three fillies.
>Perching there with your back against the rough trunk, you’ll be pretty well hidden from anyone outside the tree’s canopy.
>‘That’s Rainbow Dash, prob’ly out lookin’ for us,’ Apple Bloom hisses. ‘Ya’d better stay here.’
‘Rainbow Dash? The one who’d get blasted out of the sky by the Predator’s plasma caster?’
>‘That’s the one,’ Apple Bloom grins, even as she’s cut off by Scootaloo’s angry ‘NOPE’.
>‘Girls, we gotta go, the further away we are from Annie when Dash finds us, the better,’ Sweetie Belle urges.
>They nod seriously, and turn to go.
>‘Just stay here Annie,’ Sweetie Belle says. ‘One of us will come get you as soon as we can. Promise.’
‘Yeah… yeah, fine,’ you say, shaking your head to clear it of the doubts that are forming. ‘Go on then, get going.’
>The three fillies canter off, Sweetie Belle casting a quick look of concern over her shoulder at you before passing out of sight beyond the tree’s thick foliage.
>And then you’re alone, with nothing to do but watch the light slowly fade and listen to the breeze murmur softly in the leaves of the trees around you.
>Time slips by, and you find yourself getting drowsy – no surprise, after a full day of traipsing barefoot around a forest in the hot sun, crusading for cutie marks.

>The immediate danger of being spotted seems to be gone, especially since it’s dark now, so you feel all right about hopping down from your branch and lying down in the thick grass at the base of the tree.
>The evening is mild, but still you repress a slight shiver as you think of the wide open space all around you, the darkness, and the danger of being caught.
>And then again, maybe being found by grown-up ponies is the least of your worries.
>What sort of animals might come out after dark around here to prowl around in search of something tasty?
>Wolves?
>Bears?
>Those mantie core things that Apple Bloom and Scootaloo tried to scare you with stories of?
>You hug yourself tight and curl up against the trunk of the tree, pushing those thoughts out of your head.
>Now’s not the time to be chicken.
>You told Sweetie Belle you could take care of yourself, and you meant it.
>Trying hard not to think about teeth and claws and scorpion tails in the darkness, you slowly drift off into a fitful sleep.
>Your dreams are monochrome and strange, like grainy old films.
>There are brief glimpses that you recognise as memories – places where you used to walk, places where you played, places where you waited for a train or a doctor’s appointment.
>Friends and rivals from the schoolyard, your parents, your grandparents, your brother – all of them muted and distorted in your dreams, phantom voices from long-distance phone calls.
>After an indeterminate time drifting between these fuzzy scenes, you find yourself looking down on a girl lying in a bed.

>She’s familiar, but strange: you almost think you know her, with her long blonde hair and her little turned-up nose that her daddy used to boop with a finger and call her his little piglet when she was greedy…
>But no, you don’t know this girl, so pale and thin, her face covered in wound dressings, her eyes sunken and dull as she stares unseeing up at the ceiling.
>You don’t know her, and you don’t like her.
>This place is gloomy and lonely, and something about it it sets your nerves on edge.
>Just being here with this strange girl is like the feeling of someone dragging their nails down a chalkboard.
>You don’t want to be here, watching her like this.
>You know it’s a dream.
>Any minute you’ll wake up and be comfy in your bed at home with your stuffed animals and the sunlight coming through the window and the smell of pancakes from downstairs.
>It should be easy. Just… wake up.
>WAKE UP.
>…
>Wake up…
>Nothing changes.
>Still the same grim room, the same bed, the same creepy girl lying there.
>You can’t move, you can’t wake up; all you can do is watch this static scene as the undefinable horror of it slowly creeps spider-like across your skin.
>It’s torture, and the worst part is not knowing how long it might go on.
>You have to wake up eventually, don’t you?
>…
>‘Greetings.’
>The voice is clear and loud, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
>It’s formal and somewhat stern, not friendly, but something about it sets you at ease.
>Or, no, it’s not exactly that: the voice itself isn’t reassuring, but somehow the speaker has broken the spell that had you trapped.
>With relief you turn away from the unsettling scene in front of you and begin scanning your shadowy surroundings for the source of the voice.
‘…hello?’
>A shape approaches through the gloom.

>A horse – or a pony, like your new friends.
>Much larger than them, though, standing taller than you at the shoulder.
>Feathery wings flare out from the silhouette as it approaches, their span dwarfing you, and a soft milky luminescence seems to cascade around its face like a ghostly halo.
>Your instinct is to shrink away, but you fight the rising panic and stand tall: at least you can put on a brave face.
>As the figure comes closer you can make out dark blue colouring on her coat, and a single horn standing up from her forehead like Sweetie Belle’s.
>The source of the soft, ghostly light you noticed from further away is her midnight mane, flowing and shimmering faintly with a thousand shifting stars
>You take a hasty step backwards before you remember that you’re supposed to be standing tall, and scowl in frustration at your slip.
>‘Thou art a strange one,’ she says, looking you over with pale green eyes that seem to weigh and measure everything about you.
>You stick your tongue out in defiance.
‘Who’re you calling strange? You’re a flying HORSE and your mane looks like the lava lamp that my mom made my dad sell at the garage sale last year ‘cos she said it was too embarrassing to have in the house.’
>She blinks at you and cocks her head as you glare fiercely at her, projecting all the ‘I’m-not-scared’ you can muster into your stare.
>‘A child…?’ she murmurs, as if to herself, before raising a hoof to her forehead in a gesture of self-reproach. ‘Scared half to death. Clumsy, Luna… a fresh start is probably best.’
‘What are-?’
>You stop, halfway through your sentence. Suddenly you can’t remember what you were going to say, or why.
>You’re facing a little filly, just like the three you met earlier today.

>Well, not quite. She has a horn -and- wings, and she has her cutie mark already – a crescent moon in a dark cloud.
‘…who are you?’ she asks in a hushed voice.
>She looks a little nervous.
‘Call me Annie,’ you say after a moment’s thought. ‘What about you?’
>She looks down at her hooves for a moment before glancing up with a slight smile. ‘You can call me Woona. My sister always did.’
>You nod – it makes as much sense as your own name.
‘Are you friends with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo? Did they send you to get me?’
>Something about the question seems odd as you ask it – where are you? Could they really have sent someone here? - but the concerns slip away leaving you with nothing to clutch at.
>She blinks at you, looking thoughtful for a long moment.
>‘Well… not exactly,’ she says in the same quiet, refined voice as before. ‘They… do not know I’m here. Nop0ny does. But I am a friend…’
>You nod, seeing no reason to doubt her.
>She’s looking around at the shadowy hospital room with wide eyes.
>‘Your dreams are very strange.’
‘Dreams…? Oh. Oh, yeah, I’m dreaming. I remember.’
>‘Is that…?’
>She walks over to the bed behind you, her hooves echoing on the linoleum floor.
>You half turn to keep watching her, but keep your gaze averted from the bed itself.
>She looks between you and the girl in the bed, and a shadow passes over her face before she swallows and composes her features.
>‘…I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry? For what?’
>She shakes her head briskly, trotting back over to your side.
>‘Annie, what are you?’
‘A human,’ you say proudly. ‘NOT an alien.’
>Her mouth quirks into a half smile. ‘How did you come to Equestria? Do you know?’
>You just shake your head in answer.
‘You… you won’t tell anyone I’m here, right? You’ll ruin everything if you tell anyone.’
>She looks uncertain, and you reach out to grab her by the shoulders, fixing her with an earnest stare.
‘Woona. Please. You -can’t- tell anyone.’
>She nods slowly.
>‘I might… I might tell my sister. I’m uncertain. But, Annie, even if I do, she’s a friend. Like me. You don’t need to be scared.’
‘You promise? You promise she won’t tell other ponies, that they won’t trap me and do tests on me? You promise… you promise I won’t have to come back -here-?’
>You feel a surging horror in your breast as you spit that last bit out, not even sure what you really mean by it.
>She looks searchingly into your eyes for a moment before answering.
>You’re breathing heavily, emotion getting the best of you again.
>‘…I promise thee.’
>The words are like a balm, and you start to calm down immediately.
 ‘…“thee”?’
>‘…you. I promise you. But for now, Annie… you should wake up. And do not wander in such dark places, in future dreams.’
‘Wake up. Yeah. But… I don’t know… how… to…’
>The words start to come slower, slurring into incoherent noises.
>A hoof is gently shaking your shoulder, even as Woona begins to fade away from view.
>‘Annie! Wake up, Annie!’
>Only the gentle look in her eyes stays with you as the wave of sleep dreamily breaks, leaving you soaked and floundering on the shores of wakefulness.

>You blink and mumble blearily as Apple Bloom shakes you insistently.
>‘Wake -up-, consarnit! ‘re all aliens such lazybones, or what? We don’t have that much time!’
‘I’m awake. I’m awake, gedoffme already!’
>You roll over and stretch out, climbing drowsily to your feet.
‘What time is it?’
>‘Ah dunno. Ah snuck out soon as Ah could after dinner. Everyp0ny was pretty mad at me for stayin’ out so late though, so it took a while ‘fore I could get any time to maself. Ya been doin’ okay here?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, I think so… just… I had the weirdest dream.’
>You frown as you cast your mind back, trying to remember the details.
>Apple Bloom hops impatiently in place, her floppy bow bouncing on her head.
>‘Don’t space out, Annie! Ah’m sorry, but we got no time. Ah just gotta get ya settled into the clubhouse and get back ta bed ‘fore ma family miss me, or Ah’m in such a mess o’ trouble. Follow me!’
>She starts off at a canter and you follow as fast as you can, racing across the soft springy grass.
>It’s a clear night, and a fat moon beams softly down.
>The night sky with its uncountable millions of stars seems more beautiful than ever before, tonight – and somehow comforting.
>The image comes to your mind of a lovingly embroidered blanket, drawn with care over the world as it sleeps.
>You find yourself enjoying the moonlight run, making futile attempts to race Apple Bloom to… wherever it is she’s taking you.
>Before long you’re exhausted and gasping for breath, but happy, laughing uncontrollably from your unsuccessful efforts to grab hold of Apple Bloom’s tail and slow her down enough to get ahead of her.
>She seems torn between trying to shush you and getting carried away with her own giggling fit.
‘Darn it Annie, keep it down! Ya don’t even know where we’re… heh… ehehe… oh! We’re here!’

>She skids to a halt and you tumble over yourself, going head over heels before landing in a giggling heap on the grass.
>You find yourself looking up at a tree house.
>It seems to have been made with considerable love and care, and a welcoming light shines from its windows.
>‘Welcome ta the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse!’ Apple Bloom says with a clear note of pride in her voice, pointing a hoof at the construction. ‘This is where you’ll be stayin. Ah’ve done it up the best Ah could for ya in the time Ah had. Let me give ya the express tour!’
>You follow the yellow filly up the ramp, and she holds the door open for you with a big expectant grin.
>You enter and quickly take in the speaker’s podium, the wall charts, the… living room suite? The balcony with French doors? The stairs to a second floor?
>… there’s no way this treehouse was big enough to hold all this stuff when you were just looking at it from the outside.
‘uh…’
>You don’t have time to formulate a question before Apple Bloom starts whisking you around the place showing off its various features.
>Ten head-spinning minutes later, you’re settling down upstairs in a huge pile of cushions and blankets with a mug of hot cocoa as Apple Bloom looks on happily.
>‘Comfy?’
‘Uh huh!’
>‘Great! Ah’ll bring some breakfast bah tomorra mornin’ before school. If ya get hungry in the day, there should still be plenty o’ food in the Ark of the Coffin-Ant, raht?’
‘Right,’ you nod, but your face falls a little. ‘It, err… it’s a school day tomorrow?’
>‘Yeah… sorry, Annie. But Ah’ll get the girls over here right away after school and we can get in some quality crusadin’ time!’
‘Yeah, okay…’ you smile through your disappointment: of course, you should have known they’d have school to keep them busy.
>‘Just… stay in here outta sight until we get back, okay? Nop0ny’ll come up here, but if you leave then mah sister or somep0ny could eas’ly spot ya. There’s books an’ stuff, so ya shouldn’t get -too- bored.’
>She frowns.
>‘We’ll try ta work out somethin’ better tomorrow, okay?’
‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. You’d better get outta here before you get in trouble again, right? G’night, Apple Bloom.’
‘Night, Annie!’
>You sit by the window and watch as she trots off through the orchard, back towards her home.
>Home…
>Well, maybe you still don’t quite know what that word means to you.
>But you have a mug of hot cocoa and a ton of blankets and cushions to get comfy in, so for the meantime this will do.