Another Big Macintosh fic that I felt like writing. Because really, Granny can't be around that much longer. And since I've alway kind of thought she owns the farm and her grandkids run it, she would most likely give it to Mackie when she died. And I love Apple Bloom too much not to throw her in her. This is not a warm, fuzzy fic like my last one. This is kinda cold and spiky. But I hope you enjoy. I own nothing.

Big Macintosh lay sprawled on the couch, a bottle of spiked apple cidar held loosely in his hand. He normally refrained from breaking into AJ's stash of alcohol, but now seemed as good a time as any to get as drunk as he possibly could. He took another giant gulp, yearning to forget everything.

But he couldn't. He couldn't forget her eyes, her smile, her wispy voice, her thin, frail body as it lay in a hospital bed... And he couldn't forget the doctor walking out of the operation room shaking his head."There's nothing else we can do for her."

He downed some more cidar, trying to quiet the memories, make them stop. He hated thinking, hated remembering...

Applejack's sharp intake of breath. Apple Bloom's quiet sobbing. Fluttershy gripping his hand comfortingly. His own voice asking calmly if he could see her one last time. The doctor, another nameless man in a white coat, nodding... placing a hand on his shoulder and apologizing."There's some things we just can't fix."

He took another gulp of cidar. He couldn't stand the memories, the pain, feelings weren't worth it anymore, he wished he could be numb...

Opening the door. Seeing the woman who raised him lying on a bed, hooked up to wires. Watching her open her eyes. Seeing no recognition. Holding her hand. Feeling the thin, bony fingers flutter slightly before gripping his hand back. Realizing that she did know who he was."Granny? Y'okay?"

Hope. Hope wasn't worth it; it just hurt when you were let down. He despised being let down. Despised getting his hopes in the first place.

Gripping her hand tightly. Trying to hold in the pain so she wouldn't be upset. Wanting to scream at the injustice of it all. Glancing up from her eyes occasionally to look at the monitor on the wall. Feeling his heart drop when she smiled. Feeling her thin wrist, the pulse, knowing she was losing it."Goodbye."

He tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder. It hit the ground with a shatter, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything. But he knew that was a lie. He did care, he cared too much, and it had always been his downfall.

The door opening. Apple Bloom and AJ filing in, tears streaming down both their faces. The scrape of chairs being pulled up to the bed. AJ just laying her head on the bed and sobbing. Stroking her hair. Telling them lies. Watching as Granny slipped farther and faster, going somewhere they couldn't follow."It'll be okay."

He grabbed another bottle and popped the lid off. It was his third one. It wasn't cold, as it should be, but it did its job. His vision was already blurry. The memories seemed distorted. Good.

The undsteadybeep... beep... beep beep...of the heart moniter stretching out into one long, neverending sound. Her eyes closing. Apple Bloom's wail of grief. AJ's pleas to come back. And knowing, without understanding or comprehending, that she wasn't going to. Another doctor."I'm sorry... She's gone."

He had lived in a blur since then. He barely knew what was happening. Her will being read. Knowing he had inherited the farm. Barely having the energy to sign papers. Funeral arrangements. Speaking in front of the whole town, telling stories from his childhood about her. Watching as the casket was lowered into the ground. Paid workers dumping shovelful after shovelful of dirt into the hole. Holding Apple Bloom back to keep her from running at them. Telling her they were only doing their job. Shaking hands, thanking people for coming. Fluttershy's constant presence at his side, her face wet with tears. The other girls surrounding AJ as she broke down again. Scootaloo and Sweetie each holding one of Apple Bloom's hands. Only Fluttershy staying by him, leaving only long enough to comfort AJ for a few moments before returning to him. Braeburn coming from Appaloosa, embracing him like a lost brother. Barely noticing, except that he had to let go of Fluttershy long enough to return the hug. Remembering that Granny wasn't just his grandmother. Family and friends leaving. Returning to the grave that alone that night and asking why. Winona finding him and gently nuzzling him with her nose until he went back to the house.

Having to be the strong one. Not letting anyone see the pain. Comforting his sisters. Leading the family. Taking charge. Silently dying from the pain. Not shedding a tear, even in private. Fearing that if he started he wouldn't stop...

"Mackie?"

He looked up blearily as Apple Bloom walked in, registering that the nickname felt unfamiliar after years of disuse. He wondered when she had stopped. When she was eight or nine, probably. She was twelve now. She had grown up to fast. He remembered the days when she had called him Mackie all the time, carrying her away from an apple orchard, tickling her until she cried, her tiny arms around his neck for a hug.

He sat up on the couch. "C'mere, kiddo," he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. She sniffed and sat down next to him, gently prying his fingers away from the bottle and placing it on the coffee table. He placed his arm around her shoulders and held her tightly. He was surprised when she crawled into his lap. He didn't even remember the last time she had done that.

He held her like that for a while, the twilight deepening to blackness, only the lamp on the side table giving them any light. Finally, just when he thought she had gone to sleep, she opened her eyes.

"Don't you care?" she whispered, and the words pierced him like a sword. He stared at her in shock. She continued in the same pained voice, "Everyone else is upset an' yer not. What's wrong? Don't ya feel anything?"

"Ah don't wanna feel anything," he said flatly. Was that what people thought of him? Were they seeing strength as carelessness?

"Why not?" she whispered, looking up at him desperately.

"Someone's gotta be strong," he replied in a whisper. "Ah have things ah gotta-" He was interrupted as she sat upright and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I love you, Mackie."

The words hurt more than anything. It was more than he could take. Something broke within him. The tears he had been fighting for the past two weeks were finally loosed, and a howl of misery escaped his lips.

He cried. Sobbed. Groaned with pain, because it wasn't fair, it was right. He was barely twenty-three, how could he be expected to do everything? He wasn't strong enough to be everything he was supposed to be, and he knew it.

"Ah can't do it," he whispered, when the tears had subsided enough to let him speak. Apple Bloom kept her arms around his neck, crying with him. "It ain't fair. Ah don't know what to do!" He shook his head. "Why did thishappen?"

"Ah don't know," Apple Bloom murmured, her voice choked with tears. "Ah don't know either."

"Ah can't take it," he cried. "Everyone looks to me like ah know what ah'm doin', like ah'm in charge. They act like ah have some idea what's goin' on, or like ah know how to run the farm. An' ah don't! Ah don't know what I'm doin'..."

He was crying too hard to understand what he was saying, but that was okay. He was swearing enough that he really didn't want Apple Bloom to know what he was saying.

He felt arms encircle the both of them and knew he had woken AJ up. Her wet cheek pressed against his own, and he shook his head. "It ain't fair... It just ain't fair..." Another hiccuping little sob, but the tears were mostly gone by now. Applejack slid around the couch to sit next to him, laying her head on his other shoulder.

"Ah love ya, Tosh." Her own nickname for him.

"Ah love ya, Mackie."

"Ah love you girls, too," he whispered, holding onto them tightly. Anchors in the storm. He'd never let go. Because on his own, he wasn't strong enough. But with his family at his side?

He'd be scarred, yes, but at least he'd make it out alive.