The Savages We Are

Interlude:  Fallout

I don't know where I'm headed when I leave Twilight alone in the library.  I don't have much of a personal life outside of being her assistant, and that generally doesn't bother me.  I like working for her.  Since she's almost never satisfied, I never run out of ways to try and please her, and it gives me a sense of purpose.  Although I had never really thought about it, working for her had come to be a large part of my life.  So giving her space proves to be much harder than I expected.

What am I without her?  A dragon with no goals and no ambition.  What can I pursue?  Romance?  That already blew up in my face.  A job?  I already have one, and I'm too young to be taken seriously by anyone else, even if I can bake a mean quiche.

Speaking of which, I wonder if it wouldn't be worth spending some time with the Cakes until this blows over.  We tend to get along pretty well anyways, and it's not like they can complain about my attraction to Rarity.

For the time being, though, I wander. I'm not expecting the attention I receive just walking down the street.  Heads follow me as I pass, followed by painfully obvious attempts by them to pretend they were all just minding their own business.  I haven't been this popular since I first arrived in Ponyville.  The novelty of a dragon living among ponies was exciting and interesting, for a while, but it soon faded.  Now I've given them something new to talk about.

I hear a pony call my name, and I'm tempted to ignore it.  But I look anyway, and Sweetie Belle is racing to catch up with me.

I don't really know her that well, although I know of her.  The longest time I ever had to just talk to her was at Shining Armor's wedding, where we had the first dance together, quickly grew tired of it as soon as Sweeite Belle learned she wasn't getting a Bridesmaid cutie mark from it, and wandered off to explore the castle.  Most of what I learned from her was that she was a bundle of energy better fit to be Pinkie Pie's sister than Rarity's, and that her curiosity was inexhaustible.

She greets me with a leap and a hug that nearly bowls me over.  I don't understand how a little filly could have that much force behind her, but she does, and as I stand up again, she begins assaulting me with questions.

“So I heard you kissed Rarity?  Did you like it?  Huh?  Was she all fussy about it?  I tried asking her about it yesterday, but she didn't want to talk about it.”

“Neither do I,” I tell her, and I begin to walk away.

“Aw, come on!” she cries.  “I wanna hear everything.  Walk with me to school, at least.  Maybe I can help!  Maybe I can get my cutie mark in giving love advice!”

“Didn't you already try something like that?” I ask her.

She cocks her head and thinks for a moment.

“Hearts and Hooves day?” I remind her.

“Oh yeah.  Miss Cheerilee was not happy about that.”

Given the attention I've received today, I'm pretty sure I know why.

“Are you dating Rarity now? That would be so cool. We'd be a family, Spike.  You and me.  And Rarity too.”

I remind her that I don't want to talk about it, but it's too late.  She's planted the question in my head and it's taken root.  I realize that Rarity never really had a chance to reciprocate; Twilight had taken me home before anypony had time to say anything.  Maybe Rarity enjoyed the kiss but couldn't say so in public?  It's almost too much to hope for.

“Apple Bloom!” We're in front of Quills and Sofas when Sweetie runs past me to catch up with her friend, who we've been closing in on without me noticing.  But when Apple Bloom perks up and turns around, it's clear something's wrong.  She's excited, just for a moment, and then her expression sours into something uneasy.  Not malevolent, but still on edge.  And tired.

“Hey, Sweetie...” She drags out her words, like she's tripping over her own tongue.

“Come on,” Sweetie calls back to me, but I hesitate.  Something is clearly off.

“Uh, hold on Sweetie.  I need to talk to you,” Apple Bloom is shifty, nervous.  Was she at the festival?  I can't remember.  “Alone,” Bloom adds when Sweetie Belle just looks at her expectantly.  “Girl stuff, okay?”  She all but drags Sweetie away, into the store.

The responsible thing to do would be to respect her privacy and let them talk in private.  But if something really is wrong, I figure, maybe I can help them.  Plus, I'm curious.

I wait about ten seconds before going in after them, trying to spot them from a distance.  They're near the back of the store, and I settle in behind a couch to listen in.

“What are you doing with Spike?” asks Apple Bloom.  It's a funny question, but what's odder is the way she asks it.  She's not angry.  (I don't know why she would be angry, but I don't know why she's asking the question at all, either.)  Instead, she sounds concerned.  Afraid, even.  Afraid of what?

I feel a chill as I consider that maybe she's afraid of me.

“Spike? We're friends, aren't we?” Sweetie still doesn't have a clue what's going on, bless her heart.

“Sweetie...” Sympathy now from Apple Bloom.  “You can't be friends with everyone.    You need to be more careful.”

“What's wrong with Spike?” Sweetie sounds almost pained, like a cornered doe.  “Why can't I be friends with him?”

“What if he tries to hurt you?”

“Spike?” her voice shoots up an octave, and she's as shocked as I am.  As I take it in, I struggle to keep my blood from boiling.  “Why would Spike hurt me?”

Apple Bloom dodges the question.  “What if he tries to take advantage of you?” she asks instead.  “What if he... uses you?  The way a bull uses a cow?”

It feels like the floor is giving out from under me.  What's causing this from Apple Bloom?  It's pretty clear what event triggered this, but was this how she always thought?  Did she always think that ponies like me were dangerous, but she just never knew about me?  I'm not sure if Sweetie still doesn't understand, but she's picked up on her friend's urgency.  “You're scaring me, Apple Bloom.”  I can hear her heavy breathing from my hiding place.  “Please, stop it.”

Apple Bloom yells, and I cringe.  “Can't you see I'm trying to keep you safe, Sweetie Belle?  I don't want anything bad to happen to you, not ever, you hear me?  I care about you. I...”  She clamps down on her tongue and stops mid-sentence.  “I wouldn't forgive myself, alright?”

This is too much.  I think about rushing in there and interfering, but I'm seized by a fear about what Sweetie might think about me in her current state, under her current pressures.  So instead I just leave.

Scootaloo is waiting for me outside.  “Oh, hey Spike,” she says with a refreshing amount of uncaring.  “Is Apple Bloom okay in there? It sounds heated.”

“Forget about it,” I say almost by instinct, and Scootaloo looks at me funny.

“Is something happening?” she asks.  I don't have time to answer because Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom use that moment to come outside.  Neither of them look very good; now they're both on edge.

“Scoots!” cries Apple Bloom once she's seen her other friend.  “Get away from Spike!”  Clearly she's no longer worried about hurting my feelings.

“Apple Bloom!” squeals Sweetie Belle in protest.  This is quickly becoming out of hand.  Sweetie Belle makes a note of stepping away from Apple Bloom, but she doesn't move any closer toward me.

Scootaloo looks back and forth from them to me, trying her absolute hardest to make sense of the situation.  Then she turns a critical eye to me.  “What did you do?” she asks.

Me?  How do I even begin to answer that?  “What did you do to make Apple Bloom upset like this?” she says, and now she's angry too.

“Scootaloo, leave him alone.”  The accusation seems to be enough to make Sweetie Belle come to my aid and she steps toward me defensively.  “He didn't do anything.  Let's just go to school.”

“We're not walking with him,” Apple Bloom tells her.

“Yes we are.”

“Then I'm not.  Sorry Sweetie, I tried.”

“What in pony's name is happening?” cries Scootaloo.  “What is wrong with you ponies?”

“You can't hang out with Spike,” Apple Bloom explains.  “Not anymore.  Not like he is.  For safety.”

“No!” cries Sweetie Belle.  “It ain't fair.”

“Come here, Scoots.  Stay away from him.”

“You can't do this!”

Scootaloo whips her head back and forth so hard she's going to hurt herself.

“I'm going to class, Scoots.  Come with me or not.”  Apple Bloom continues on without us.

Scootaloo looks like she's in pain now.  She watches her friend shrink into the distance, and she gives me a bitter glare of resentment.

“Scootaloo,” I begin, but I don't finish; she interrupts.

“This is your fault.  If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened.”

She turns and makes her escape.  Sweetie Belle stays, looking guilty, like she wants to do something to support me but doesn't have the first clue what.  And I'm just trying to figure out some way to see things that doesn't make Scootaloo right.

And the day's not even half over yet.