Homesick


                                            >It’s been about a month and a half now since you and your family took in Anon.

                                            >You weren’t entirely sure about him at first, but you’ve all warmed up to him very quickly.

                                            >He may be a little awkward and shy, but he’s a real hard worker, and he’s been nothing but polite and respectful towards y’all, and every other pony is interacted with, for that matter.

                                            >And he’s been trying to learn all about your culture, asking you about local customs and such.

                                            >He’s really been putting in the effort trying to integrate himself and learn how things are done around here.

                                            >You’ve been enjoying being able to teach somepony new about your family traditions.

                                            >And since he’s living with you, he’s had a lot more opportunity to engage in those traditions than the girls do.

                                            >All in all, you honestly couldn’t be happier with the arrangement.

                                            >Anon’s a good fella. He’s got a dang good work ethic, and you’re glad to be able to call him a friend.

                                            >And he’s just so much better handling tools than any of y’all are,  he can do some jobs dang near twice as fast as you or Macintosh.

                                            >You’ve all been able to get an extra few hours of free time a week, while still getting the same level of work done.

                                            >He may not be able to haul a plow or buck a tree, but those hands of his are great at anything that needs a finer touch.

                                            >You’ve been starting to realize just how lucky Twilight and Rarity are, always having Spike around helping them.

                                            >You really ought to do something for him to show how thankful you are for his help.

                                            >Truth be told… you’re actually a little worried about him at the moment.

                                            >That’s why you’ve been thinkin’ about him an awful lot today.


                                            >You swear, something was different about him today.

                                            >He seemed a might distant during breakfast.

                                            >He ain’t usually the most talkative type, but he seemed even quieter than usual.

                                            >Barely saying a word unless somepony talked to him first.

                                            >Seemed to be eating slower too, like he wasn’t really hungry.

                                            >Keeps on staring off at nothing in particular.

                                            >Maybe you’re just imagining it, but…

                                            >Might as well talk to him, right?

                                            >Better safe than sorry.

                                            >If he’s fine, then you can quit your worryin’ and focus on your chores.

                                            >But if something is bugging him, then maybe you can get it taken care of.

                                            >That way, you’ll both feel better.

                                            >You sigh as you put aside your watering can you’d been carrying.

                                            >You’re tending the garden today, and Anon should be off chopping firewood.

                                            >That’s one of the chores he’s real good at.

                                            >First day you had him do it, that colt chopped through a whole pile in just an hour.

                                            >Those hands of his sure were something.

                                            >As you trudge your way back towards the house, your ears begin to pick up on the rhythmic sound of logs being split by an axe.

                                            >Your lips curl into a smile.

                                            >He’s hard at work, even despite whatever’s going on with him.

                                            >Circling around to the side of the house where the chopping block is, you come trotting up behind Anon.

                                            >Even looking at him now, it feels like he’s working a bit slow.

                                            >Well, ‘slow’ relative to how he usually is, at least.

                                            >Still a fair bit faster than you can manage with it.

                                            >But he ain’t as fluid as he usually is.

                                            >His movements are awkward and stiff, and it just feels like his mind is someplace else.

                                            “Heya, ‘Non?”

                                            >He flinches as you call out his name.

                                            >He whips around, a bit more shocked than you intended.

                                            >He must not have heard you walking up.

                                            >You smile gently at him, trying to calm his nerves.

                                            “You got a minute sug?”

                                            >He sighs, setting the axe down on the stump before returning a somewhat forced looking smile.

                                            >”Course I do, Applejack. What’s up?”


                                            “I just wanted to ask if you’re feelin’ alright. Seems like you’re a little quieter than usual today, and I’ve just been a might concerned.”

                                            >His eyes averts, and he seems to hesitate for a moment before responding.

                                            >”I’m… fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”

                                            >Your eyebrow raises incredulously.

                                            >That was far from a reassuring answer.

                                            “You sure? You can always talk to me if something’s botherin’ you.”

                                            >He turns his head away from you, trying his best to look away.

                                            >Now you’re pretty sure he’s actively trying to avoid looking at you.

                                            >”I’m fine. Just… don’t feel well.”

                                            >Don’t feel well?

                                            >Was he coming down with something?

                                            >Shoot, you’d of kept him in bed if you knew he sick with something!

                                            >The chores ain’t so important that he can’t take a day off to rest.

                                            “’Non, if you’re sick then you should be in bed sugarcube.”

                                            >He shakes his head before you can start ushering him back to the house.

                                            >”No no, I’m not sick, I’m just…”

                                            >He stopped again, just short of telling you what was going on.

                                            >Because you’re very certain now that something is going on with him.

                                            >It seems like he wants to say something, but he’s still a little unsure about really opening up.

                                            >Something is definitely on his mind.

                                            >His eyes are constantly in motion, like he’s reading an invisible book.

                                            >You take a deep breath.

                                            >You don’t want to push him too hard, he’s probably just a little nervous about the situation.

                                            >Anon told you before he didn’t have a whole lot of friends even back home.

                                            >He probably ain’t used to opening himself up to folks, and just needs some gentle encouragement.

                                            >You sit down on the ground, and give him a tender smile.


                                            “Hey, what’s eatin’ at ya sugarcube?”

                                            >He finally locks eyes with you again instead of averting his gaze.

                                            >Seems like you might be getting through to him.

                                            >He stares for a moment, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

                                            >He sighs.

                                            >”I’ve… been here a while now.”

                                            >He pauses for a moment, drumming his fingers against his leg.

                                            >You stay quiet, patiently letting him gather his thoughts and find the words he wants to say.

                                            >”I’ve just been thinking – there’s all kinds of things that could be happening back home, and I have no way of knowing about any of it.”

                                            >You breathe a silent sigh of relief as you realize what’s going on with him.

                                            >Anon’s just getting a little homesick, that’s all.

                                            >All this worryin’ and fretting you were doing, and this was all there was to it.

                                            >Now you just wished you’d said something sooner.

                                            >Being off alone to fret like this ain’t gonna help him at all, he needs to get it off his chest.

                                            >”Something terrible could’ve happened, and I’m just… here, no idea about anything. Hell, there’s no way for me to even tell my family how I’m doing.”

                                            >He starts pacing back and forth a bit, staring off into the orchard.

                                            >“I could be the last human, you know? Everyone else could be dead as far as I know. My species could be extinct, and I’m the soul surviving member.”

                                            >You're taken aback by that last bit.

                                            >That’s… not quite what you were expecting to hear.

                                            >It makes some sense though, heck, you’d be worried sick about your family if you were stuck on a different world too.

                                            >Poor thing, no wonder he was being so distant.


                                            >”There could have been some war, or a natural disaster, or maybe a meteor’s hit the planet and killed everyone, and I’m the only survivor because I was here when it happened.”

                                            >His tone is getting increasingly agitated the more he goes on.

                                            >He must’ve been brooding on these things for a while.

                                            >”I might be the last of my kind. Isn’t that kinda fucked?”

                                            >He chuckles a bit, but there was zero happiness in it.

                                            >It was an empty, nervous laugh.

                                            >That knot of worry was forming up in your stomach again.

                                            “Anon?”

                                            >He doesn’t even acknowledge you, just keeps staring off as more of his fears work their way through his head.

                                            >”My whole species, it’s history, cultures, everything it ever was and everything it ever could be, all of it just… gone.”

                                            >He brings his hand to his mouth for a moment, his breathing getting more strained.

                                            >You had no idea he was having these types of thoughts.

                                            >All this time you’d been teaching him about Ponyville and farm life, and he’s been nursing these ideas in the back of his mind.

                                            >He’d been doing such a good job staying calm and collected this whole time that you’d barely even thought about how stressful this all must be for him.

                                            “Anon, hey…”

                                            >He shakes his head again, running his hand through his mane.

                                            >“My home, my country, my family, everything I ever knew just fucking gone and I’m…”

                                            >His voice breaks, and you’re sure you saw his shoulders heave a little.

                                            >Anon starts anxiously touching at his face.

                                            >“I-I-I just… need to… f-fuck man…”

                                            >He collapses to the ground, and your heart leaps into your throat.

                                            “Anon!”

                                            >You immediately jump back up onto your hooves and rush over to him.


                                            >In a sitting position like this, his head only came up to just about withers height.

                                            >You circle around him, draping your head across his shoulders and pushing your body down against his in an attempt to calm him.

                                            “Hey, hey – look at me sug.”

                                            >A choked sound emanated from him in response.

                                            >You circle back around to his front so you can face him more properly.

                                            >He has his hand clenched in his teeth, biting into it in an attempt to keep himself from completely breaking down.

                                            >You gently took the opposite side of his hand in your mouth, and try to pry it out.

                                            >He groans as you attempt to pull his hand from his jaw.

                                            >Letting go, you level your eyes with his.

                                            “Stop Anon, please. Don’t hurt yourself like this.”

                                            >Taking his hand in your mouth again, you gently tug at it.

                                            >After a moment, he hesitantly relaxes his jaw, releasing his hand from the grip of his teeth.

                                            >As you let his hand go, you remember the other week when Anon was showing you how his kind hugged eachother.

                                            >You put your hooves over his shoulders, and try to pull him against yourself.

                                            >You keep pushing into him, and he finally seems to catch on, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into the fur of your shoulder.

                                            >You lean down and rub your face against the sides and back of his head.

                                            “There you go. It’s gonna be okay hon, you’re okay.”

                                            >Now that you’re touching, you can feel just how erratic and heavy his breathing is.

                                            >A damp spot is forming on your shoulder where he was heaving.

                                            >You try to gently rub on his shoulders with your hooves and fetlocks.

                                            >You start mentally kicking yourself for letting it get this bad.

                                            >How could you have not noticed sooner?

                                            >Anon ain’t like some other ponies, he’s a level headed fella.

                                            >He ain’t the type to just suddenly start breaking down for no reason, this stress must’ve been building up in him for a while.

                                            >There must have been signs before that you missed, just like there were earlier today.


                                            >For the time being at least, the best course of action is to just let Anon get the feelings out.

                                            >You can talk to him more when he isn’t having a crisis.

                                            >But right now – he just needs to feel that somepony is here for him.

                                            >The minutes tick by as you sit there with Anon, embracing each other as he comes down from the emotional turmoil he just endured.

                                            >You keep nuzzling Anon’s neck as his breathing slowly steadies.

                                            >His breathing eventually reaches a slower, more controlled pace.

                                            >You feel him shifting in your hooves, and Anon lifts his face from your shoulder just a bit.

                                            >”I’m sorry.”

                                            >His voice sounds breathy, exhausted.

                                            >…Sorry?

                                            >Sorry?!

                                            >What in tarnation is he apologizing to you for?!

                                            “Don’t.”

                                            >Your voice is firm, but gentle.

                                            >You slide your muzzle by his ear.

                                            “Anon, there ain’t nothin’ for you to be sorry for.”

                                            >He huffs a bit on your shoulder, like he was silently laughing.

                                            >”I’m fucking losing it right now.”

                                            >You grip his shoulders a bit harder.

                                            “So? Way I see it, you’ve got some dang big reasons to be upset. It’s a miracle you’re holdin’ together as much as you are.”

                                            >You rest your head on top of his.

                                            “I’m the one who should be sayin’ sorry, ‘Non. I should’ve noticed how stressed out you were and said somethin’ so much sooner than I did. You never would’a gotten this bad if I’d payed more attention to ya.”

                                            >He nuzzles his face into your neck.

                                            >”No, it’s not your fault, I’m just…”

                                            >He sighs.

                                            >”It’s just been so hard. Back home, I’d never even left the country. I’ve never really been anywhere else before, never had to adapt to an entirely new culture.

                                            >He sniffles, wiping his eyes with his hand.

                                            >”And now here I am, trying to live with an entirely different species. Everything’s so different here. There’s so much to learn and get used to and I – it just feels like so much, too much.”


                                            >”It feels like almost everyone I talk to is afraid of me, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it – what I even can do about it.”

                                            >Anon had been avoiding going into town lately, even with you.

                                            >Lotta folks have been actin’ like they did with Zecora around him.

                                            >You knew it must’ve been difficult, but you didn’t realize everypony being nervous about him was affecting him this much.

                                            >He exhales a shaky sigh.

                                            >”I just feel so lost.”

                                            >He buries his face into your shoulder.

                                            >”I don’t know what to do, Applejack.”

                                            >It feels like a knife just stabbed into your barrel.

                                            >There’s such a sense of despair in his words.

                                            >He sounds so confused and scared, it just breaks your heart.

                                            “Anon?”

                                            >You take a deep breath, keeping your own emotions in check for his sake.

                                            “I’m so sorry you’re goin’ through this, Anon. I can hardly even imagine how awful it must be. Never bein’ able to see your home or family again… it’s just awful, and I honestly don’t think I could do it if I was in your hooves.”

                                            >You lift his head up so it rests underneath your throat again.

                                            ”Nopony deserves to suffer like that, ‘specially not you, ‘Non.”

                                            >He hugs you a little bit tighter.

                                            >You move your hooves off his shoulders, and grip his head between them.

                                            >You position his head so you can look him face to face again.

                                            >His eyes are red and misty.

                                            “But I promise you Anon – I’m here to help you however I can.”

                                            >You press your forehead into his, putting your faces close enough to share breath.

                                            “I don’t care what other ponies say or think about you, you’re my friend ‘Non, and an honorary Apple no matter how different ya are from us.”

                                            >His breaths are getting slower and deeper

                                            “I’m willin’ to do what ever it takes to help you feel welcome here, and give you a place you can belong again.”

                                            >Anon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before moving his arms further up your neck, and giving a more gentle hug.

                                            >”Thank you.”

                                            >His voice is barely a whisper, but you can still hear the gratitude in it.

                                            >You both smile.


                                            >You sit there just a little while longer, wanting to make sure Anon had fully calmed down.

                                            >When Anon starts rubbing your coat, you take it as the sign he’s closer back to his usual self again.

                                            “You feelin’ better, sugarcube?”

                                            >He releases you from his grip, and leans back.

                                            >”Better, yea. I think… I’ll be alright.”

                                            >He straightens out his mane a bit, and stands back on his feet.

                                            >”Should probably get back to work, right?”

                                            >He chuckles a bit, but you can tell he’s still a little anxious.

                                            >He may be calmed down, but you still don’t feel quite comfortable leaving him all alone for the moment.

                                            >Anon’s in a real vulnerable state, and it probably ain’t gonna take much to send him into another breakdown like that.

                                            “Actually, I want you to come and hang out with me the rest of the day hon. I don’t think bein’ alone is gonna do you any good.”

                                            >He glances over at the axe and pile of logs.

                                            >”But I haven’t finished chopping the wood yet.”

                                            >You stare up at him blankly, trying to process what he just said.

                                            >You’d be laughing right now if you weren’t so preoccupied with concern for Anon’s state of mind.

                                            >Even now, he’s still got his mind set on finishing his share of the chores

                                            >He’s certainly dedicated.

                                            “Anon – I don’t give a darn about the wood. You can easily finish that some other time. Right now, I care a whole lot more about makin’ sure you’re doin’ alright.”

                                            >He seems surprised by you telling him to leave it for the day, looking back and forth between you and the wood pile a couple times.

                                            >”Are you sure?”

                                            >You reached up, and hook your hoof around his hand.

                                            “I’m sure. What you need is a bit of quality time with a good friend, not more time spent alone brooding on your thoughts.

                                            >You give him a big smile.

                                            “Now c’mon. You can help me wrap up with my chores, then we can spend the rest of the day relaxin’ together.”

                                            >He smiles wistfully.

                                            >”Sounds… nice.”


                                            >As you walk together, your mind drifts towards ways of helping Anon feel more at home here.

                                            >Because this is his home now, and you’re gonna make dang sure he feels it.

                                            >Maybe there was something you could get him, to remind him of his old home and help him feel more normal?

                                            >Or maybe… something you could make him?

                                            >Anon’s diet is a bit different from a ponies, one of the first things you had to learn pretty quick was the kind of food he needed to eat, and what he couldn’t.

                                            >A few weeks ago, you asked Anon what sort of food he used to eat back home.

                                            >One of the things he told you about, was a pretty simple soup recipe his ma used to make all the time when he was just a colt.

                                            >It was only a few ingredients, and most of them were vegetables anyway.

                                            >You smile as you realize how easy it would be to make.

                                            >You look back at Anon.

                                            >He’s calmed down, but he’s still definitely a little lost in thought.

                                            >He’s probably trying to think up ways to cope with the situation himself.

                                            >Maybe a little taste of home is just the thing he needs.

                                            >That settles it then – you’re making that soup for Anon.

                                            >You don’t know what Granny planned on cooking today, but there’s gonna be a change of plans.

                                            >Cause you’ve already decided what’s for supper tonight.