Anxiety

by Bad_Seed_72

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Spike, Slice of Life
Length: 9814

Recurrent nightmares and newfound anxiety make Spike come face-to-face with his greatest fear. What if Twilight never needed him in the first place?

What Spike saw in the doorway of King Sombra's crystal palace hasn't left his mind. The fear of Twilight abandoning him haunts him through recurrent nightmares. Anxiety taunts him when he's at his most vulnerable, reminding him of all his failures, all his inadequacies, all his wounds.

One night, this fear and anxiety manifests itself in a full-blown nightmare, dragging Spike face-to-face with his greatest fear. What if Twilight never needed Spike in the first place?

Takes place right after the Season Three opener (before Episode Three).

Thanks to RGLloyd for editing.

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Rated Teen for some dark elements.

Published 2013-10-08 19:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-08 19:40:03 UTC

Anxiety

Anxiety

"Sometimes there is no darker place than our thoughts, the moonless midnight of the mind."
—Dean Koontz

~

On a cool, moonless night in Ponyville, a young dragon twitched under his blanket, tossing and turning, sweat forming on his brow.

His lips parted repeatedly, feverishly—not for breath, but to utter—

"The door."

The breeze from an open window, normally welcome on nights such as these, made him shiver. The green spikes running down the full length of his spine trembled and clacked together. His formidable claws fumbled at his blanket as he turned over yet again, shivering, eyes darting back and forth below their lids in the iron grip of R.E.M. sleep.

"The door..."

He gasped for breath in his dream before rolling over again, adding a few more words to his repertoire.

"Twilight, please... don't open the door..."

"T-The d-door..."

~

"Twilight? Twilight! What's wrong? Where are you?!"

Spike rushed down the endless staircase of King Sombra's crystal palace. The rhythm of his claws clinking against the ancient ice as he descended sounded hollow, distant. All around him was darkness—billowing, swirling tendrils of smoke-not-smoke. He waved his claws in front of his face as he raced down, but couldn't clear the blackness before his eyes.

"Twilight?!"

His feet touching the lower level at last, Spike immediately looked around, squinting through the blinding sea. Twilight, last seen examining a strange door, was nowhere in his eyes. Feeling his heart rate begin to quicken in fear, Spike darted around from one side of the round room to the other, looking for either his friend or the door.

"Twilight! Twilight! Please! Can you hear me?"

Grasping nothingness within his talons, Spike swatted at the air in vain panic. Why was it so dark? Where had Twilight gone? Where was the door?

"Twi—"

He stopped himself when the door appeared in front of him. Simple and unassuming, it nevertheless loomed before the dragon like a towering, blasphemous edifice. The door appeared to glow in the darkness—a dim speck of light in the endless ocean of black.

Spike heard a small gasp, then darted his eyes around. "Twilight? Was that you?"

Silence.

Oh, he thought, that must have been me.

His left claw shook as he reached out to scrape across the face of the door. The glow of the door intensified at his touch, almost beginning to shine. He felt something warm and welcome beneath his talon... Perhaps this was a sign that he was getting closer? Was Twilight just playing the "hot and cold" game with him now, as they had done so long ago?

Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Spike called out one more time, "Twilight?"

No answer.

I have to keep it together! We need to get to the Crystal Heart before Sombra does, and I can't lose Twilight! She's gotta be behind this door! I didn't see her go up the stairs... He glanced towards the lower stairwell, which now appeared to have disappeared entirely. Spike swallowed. And she couldn't have gone down.

"Okay..." He took one last, saving breath. "Here goes nothing..."

~

"Aaah! Twilight! The door!"

Spike sat bolt upright in his basket, clutching his blanket. Huffing and puffing, he slowly began to take in his surroundings.

Luna's moon cast light and shadow into their bedroom. Twilight was sprawled out across the bed. Her continuous snores paused momentarily as she turned to the side, an open book sliding from her stomach onto the floor with a thud. Everything was silent but for her continued snores and Spike's shaky breathing.

"Hah... haha..." Spike shook his head, calming down and wiping at his eyes. "Just a dream," he whispered, glancing over to his best friend. "Just a dream, Twilight."

Twilight snored and rolled onto her back.

Spike looked around, soon locking eyes with their nocturnal friend. "Just a bad dream, Owlowiscious."

Owlowiscious stretched his wings a little. "Who?"

Spike forced a laugh. Always with this. "Me. I had a bad dream."

The owl tilted his head at the dragon and pulled his wings to his sides. "Who?"

Spike rolled his eyes and sighed. Wow... I've never had a nightmare like that before. Maybe I shouldn't eat a whole bowl of double-chocolate-fudge ice cream right before bed... oh, and the sprinkles, too.

He sighed again, trying to relax. He laid back down and pulled his blanket up to his chin. Probably just a one-off thing... I'll tell Twilight about it in the morning. He looked over to the slumbering unicorn and smiled. She needs her rest, anyway.

Yawning, the dragon closed his eyes and settled back into bed. "Goodnight, Owlowiscious."

The owl affirmed, "Who," and began to preen his chest feathers.

~

Spike did not have another dream that night. Whereas one would be led to believe a heavy consumption of saturated fats and sugar before bed would've guided the eater to fantasies of ice cream mountains and rivers of chocolate, nothing of the sort came to pass. Instead, he awoke at dawn with a sugar-hangover, his throat and mouth dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his palette, and his stomach despising him for putting it through such torture.

Spike groaned and rolled out of bed, rising to his feet and rubbing his belly delicately with his claws. An angry growl was his reward. "Okay... okay... no more ice cream feasts before bed," he grumbled, grabbing his blanket and shaking it loose.

Spike glanced over to both the owl's perch and the unicorn's bed. Both friends were sleeping soundly—one presumably nearing the end of her sleep cycle, and the other just beginning his. With a smile, he quietly made his bed, then tiptoed downstairs to freshen up and get breakfast started.

Splashing cold water on his face, Spike looked into the bathroom mirror. Dark circles under his eyes testified to the reality of his sugar-induced hallucinations. Gotta say, ice cream, that was the best nightmare you could've pulled off... what I saw in that door at Sombra's... Spike shivered.

Pushing aside those thoughts, he finished his morning routine and moved into the kitchen. Humming to himself, he prepared a pot of hot oats on the stove and brought a kettle to boil for some tea. Pouring both himself and Twilight a cup, he added a generous amount of honey to hers and left his own unsweetened. Probably best to lay off the sweet stuff. At least for today.

Twilight had finally dragged herself out of bed and into the kitchen by the time the oats were finished. "Oh, good morning, Twilight!" Spike said with a smile, placing two bowls of oats and two cups of tea on the table.

Twilight, her mane a mess, her eyes half-lidded, and a small trickle of drool still shining on her muzzle, grunted an inaudible reply and sat down at the table.

"What's that, Twilight?" he asked, pulling up a chair of his own.

"Isaidgoomornin'," Twilight mumbled, sipping at her tea. She paused, smacking her lips. After clearing her throat, she looked up at Spike. "Did you do something different with the tea today?"

"Oh!" He shoved a spoonful of oats in his mouth, then chewed. Hmmm... nothing like the sapphires I had last week, but still good. "I gave you a little extra honey."

Twilight frowned, then pushed the cup away. "It's a little too sweet, Spike."

"Oh..." Spike looked briefly at both teacups, then pushed his towards her. "Here, Twilight. You can have mine."

Twilight gave him a little smile. "Thanks, Spike." She picked up the new cup and sipped at it, then took a bite of the oats. She chewed the spoonful thoughtfully, glancing around the kitchen.

Spike took another bite of his breakfast. "Something wrong, Twilight?"

"Hmm... it looks like we need to clean the kitchen soon," she said. Twilight set down her spoon and wiped her mouth with a napkin in her magic. "But that might have to wait until later. I've got quite a lot of studying to do today."

"What about?"

"Princess Celestia wants me to study up on the Griffon Kingdom. She told me before we left Canterlot that she has some big things in store for me soon, so she wants me to brush up on my diplomatic skills." A proud smile curled its way across her muzzle.

"That's great, Twilight!" Spike took a hearty bite of his oatmeal in affirmation. "So, anything I can do to help you today?"

Twilight shrugged. "Eh, not really. I have most of the books pulled down already. Once I finish my oats, I'll be back to my studies." Looking up at her disheveled mane, she giggled. "It's a good thing I don't plan on going out today."

"Haha, yeah! Imagine how everypony would react to seeing you like this!" Spike laughed and dropped his spoon in his bowl, dissolving into a fit of chuckles. "They'd probably freak out and think you were trying to monitor everything again!"

Twilight giggled and shook her head, smiling. "Spike, it's not nice to mock our friends."

"But it's funny."

"... I'll give you that," she said with another giggle. Finishing her oats, Twilight looked around the kitchen one more time. "Say, um, Spike..."

"Yes?"

"Um... well..." She paused, biting her lower lip. "I'm not sure if I'll have time to help with the kitchen once I start studying..." Twilight blushed slightly. "You know how I am."

Unfazed, Spike simply nodded and carried their dishes to the sink. "Not a problem!" he said, giving a mock salute.

"Alright, then! Let me know if you need anything!" Twilight shot him an appreciative grin and began to trot out of the kitchen.

"Oh, Twilight!" Spike called out as he remembered. He turned from the sink and looked towards her. "One more thing..."

"Yes, Spike?" Twilight asked cheerfully.

"I had—"

A voice rang out in his head, rising above the sentence forming in his thoughts. Don't bother her with that nonsense. Can't you see how busy she's going to be today?

Spike paused, taken aback. What was that?

Twilight tilted her head. "You had what, Spike?"

He tried again. "Last night, I—"

Really? You're going to bug the Princess's favorite student with a little nightmare? You're going to trouble your busy, probably-sleep-deprived friend with your silly dreams?

Hey! It wasn't a silly dream!

"You what?"

You ate too much ice cream and sugared yourself scared. Do you think Twilight really needs to know about that? C'mon! You're lucky you didn't wake her up last night with your little freak-out. Let it go. It's not important.

"I guess you're right," Spike muttered, sighing.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "I'm right about what?"

"Er!" Spike corrected, "Uh, I mean, nothing, Twilight. Everything is alright," he said, plastering a grin.

Twilight eyed him suspiciously for a few moments before shrugging, turning back, exiting the kitchen, and making her way back towards the main room of the library.

Spike lifted a claw to his forehead, surprised to feel a few beads of sweat forming there. What was that all about? That was—that was me, wasn't it? My own thoughts? Since when does anypony argue with their own thoughts?

Spike waited for the new voice to return. When it didn't, he simply shrugged and began to clean the kitchen, writing it off as yet another symptom of sugar-hangover.

~

When the little hand reached five, Spike left the kitchen at last. Coated in grime and sweat, he'd not only given the kitchen a full, deep cleaning of every appliance, nook, cranny, and tile, but he'd also cleaned the bathroom as well, shining the chrome and linoleum to a pristine finish. Although he felt a few claw cramps coming on, he couldn't help but smile as he triumphantly stood in the threshold, looking back at his work. The kitchen practically shone back at him.

Twilight's gonna love this!

Light on his feet, Spike nearly skipped over into the main room of the library, saying, "Twilight! Oh, Twilight, I've got a surprise for you!" He closed his eyes as he skipped merrily. "Twilight, you're—"

SMACK!

Crashing face-first into a stack of books piled high on a desk, Spike stumbled, barely catching himself with his claws before hitting the ground. The mountain of books flew every whence way, tumbling to the floor and splaying open. "Oof!"

"Spike!"

Muttering to himself, Spike looked up at her as he rose to his feet. "Urgh... sorry! Guess I got a little carried away there... heh." Fidgeting in embarrassment, he began to pick up the books and place them back on the desk.

"Are you putting those back in the right order?"

Spike paused in mid-reach. "Um—"

"Spike, you need to stack them up the way they were," Twilight said sternly. "I just finished reading 'A Brief History Of Griffonia,' but beyond that, I don't know which book comes next."

He placed a book on the desk. "Does it... matter?" he asked, a little more angrily than he'd intended. Good job, genius!

Shut up! It's not like she's gonna—

"Spike, this is important!" Twilight furrowed her brow, levitating several of the books in her magic. "Princess Celestia wanted me to read these in a very specific order!"

Oh, great.

"Sorry." Spike swallowed, then tried to brush it off. "Well, didn't she write down the order?"

"Yes, but I don't remember where I left that scroll!" Piling the rest of the books on the desk, Twilight shifted her magic to opening various drawers throughout the library. "Can you help me look for it?"

See? There you go again, adding more stress to her day, said the strange voice. Spike huffed and stomped over to one of the drawers. It's not even a big deal... besides, I already cleaned the kitchen, and—

Oh! The kitchen!

"Twilight," Spike said with a slight grin, rifling through a stack of old checklists, "you should check out the kitchen when you get a chance."

Twilight continued her search, sifting through a whole drawer of obsolete calendars. "Not right now, Spike. I really need to finish the next book before I go to bed. If I don't, I'm going to be behind on my reading."

"Oh. Okay," he said, forcing a smile into his words. She'll notice the kitchen and the bathroom soon enough. Now, to find that scroll...

After a few more minutes of searching, Spike located the needed scroll at last. "I found it! I found it!" he exclaimed as he held it up.

Twilight snapped her head around, her worried frown completely erased from her muzzle. "Great!" Twilight sparked her horn and began to levitate the scroll towards her.

As she did so, Spike's nose began to itch from trapped dust inside his nostrils—it had been a while since anypony had swept behind the oven, after all—and, inevitably, the dragon sneezed, long before he even realized it was coming.

ACHOO!

Green flame erupted from twin volcanoes of his nostrils and his vent of a mouth, sending trails of fire and ember hurling straight towards the scroll. Twilight's jaw went agape and her eyes widened, but there was nothing she could do. In mere seconds, the scroll caught fire, then burnt to ashes, falling into cinders on the floor.

Spike opened his eyes, which immediately shot to the ashes on the floor. He gasped and fidgeted with his claws.

Silence.

Oh look, genius! Look what you done goofed now, imbecile! Now she's gonna have to bother the Princess and get another one!

Spike lowered his eyes to the floor, staring at his feet. The faintest tinge of pink flared on his cheeks. "Twilight, I'm—"

Twilight lifted a forehoof, her brow furrowed, but stopped. Putting her hoof down, she sighed and began to levitate the books again, glancing at their covers in some hope of recognition.

"It's alright, Spike. Accidents happen. Please, can you get a broom and dustpan? I think I'll try and see if I can remember which book it was before I bother the Princess with another letter."

He nodded, ashamed to meet her eyes. "Yes, Twilight..."

As he walked away, Spike thought he heard her mutter, "And send that one off before you burn it, too..."

Haha, see? What else are you going to screw up today, bucko?

~

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Twilight, much to Spike's dismay, did not seem quite as impressed with the kitchen and bathroom as he'd hoped. She pointed out a few spots he'd missed, which needed various attention—sweeping, mopping, shining, scraping, or scrubbing. All he could do was nod and hide his humiliation, fidgeting with his claws behind his back.

When he settled into bed and tried to relax, the voice rose again in his thoughts, taunting him. You pulled her away from her studies for THAT? To show her a half-cleaned kitchen and bathroom? And after burning an important scroll, at that. Geez, Spike, you sure are one Tartarus of a screw-up, aren't you?

Flinging the blanket over his head, Spike growled and snorted hotly. "Shut up."

Hmm, but what else have you been screwing up lately? Let's see... there was that incident on your birthday, yes... Nearly destroying the entire town! Boy, wasn't that—

"Shut up! That was... that was last year!" Spike objected, slamming his eyelids shut. Why am I arguing with it? That little voice is just ME, anyway! Only crazy ponies argue with themselves...

"Spike?" Twilight called from the library downstairs. She looked up from her copy of "Complete Griffon History" and asked, "Is everything alright?"

Peeking his head out from beneath the blanket, Spike called back, "Everything's alright, Twi! I'm going to bed!"

Nice lie there, sport.

Shut up.

"Okay!"

He smiled when he saw her grin.

"Goodnight, Spike!"

"Goodnight, Twilight."

He sighed and nuzzled his pillow, trying to mask the sting of the voice's words with happier thoughts. I bet Rarity would be much nicer to snuggle with... I bet her fur is softer than a pillow... heh... hehe...

Heh, good luck getting Rarity to see you as anything but a child, snarled the voice, its tone growing dark. You'll never be able to compete with the likes of her prince—her real prince, not some buffoon like Blueblood.

Spike snort-chuckled. Yeah, whatever. Shut up. I'm going to bed.

He continued to nuzzle his pillow, snuggling under his blanket, losing himself in thoughts of his crush. His stomach empty of any offending sugar, he knew tonight would be full of sweet dreams, nonetheless...

~

Spike reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, repeating calming thoughts within his mind like a fool's mantra, if only to keep him steady for just a few seconds, just enough to open the door, and, ah, there's the door, it's open, and then—

"Twilight!" Spike's worried frown immediately upturned into the widest of smiles. Pure joy and elation filled his heart when he stepped into the threshold. There, standing with her back towards him, was Twilight Sparkle. The one pony that he couldn't imagine losing was found at last, and it took everything he had to contain himself.

"You had me worried there, Twilight!" he said as he walked up to her side. He let loose a relieved chuckle and placed a claw on her shoulder. "I almost thought you—"

"Get away from me!" Twilight flinched from his touch, spinning around to face him. In her eyes was naught but pure, fiery malice. Her brow furrowed and her nostrils flared as she regarded him with disgust. "Don't you touch me ever again!"

"W-what?" Spike took a step back, his jaw agape. "But—but... I—"

~

"Ngghh... Twilight! Twilight!"

Spike tossed and turned, rolling from his stomach to his back, throwing his blanket to the ground. He gasped in between terrified exclamations. Sweat poured down his neck and back in rivers, thick spots of panicked perspiration soaking his sheets and pillow. His eyes darted back and forth beneath his eyelids, caught in the fevered grip of his relentless nightmare.

Spike whimpered in his nightmare, seeing the enraged Twilight rear on her hindhooves above him.

"Twi—gah!"

Dragged out of the depths and to the surface, Spike gasped for breath as his eyes flew open. He began to pant heavily, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging himself. The bedroom gradually came back into focus as he drifted back down to Equestria, in breath and in consciousness.

Just a dream... another bad dream.

A quick glance about the room revealed that Twilight was yet again asleep. Owlowiscious, however, was wide awake, his yellow eyes glowing like beacons in the dark.

"Who," he greeted, rustling his feathers.

"Hah... gah..." Spike paused, running a claw through his scales. "Hah... just... just a dream, Owlowiscious," he whispered. "Just another one." He forced a smile. I'm okay... I'm okay... Just a dream...

Spike looked at his dreaming friend, watching Twilight kick her hooves in the Sandmare's embrace. Twilight isn't going to hurt me... she's not mad at me...

Ah, but how do you know that?

Like Discord snaking and slithering his way out of a pretty, pink, cotton-candy cloud, the voice rose up out of the haze of his awakening, settling in his ears. Twilight was pretty upset with you today. Maybe she wants to smack you good, like the incompetent little wyrm you are.

Spike had to cover his mouth to stifle an enraged gasp. What?! So what if I screwed up? I've done worse, and I'm still here!

Yes, but how much more can she take? Can anypony take? Having a dragon in their midst who, one day, will surely rampage through the town again—

Spike clenched his claws into fists, tensing his muscles. Biting his lower lip to prevent himself from snapping at the voice inside his head, he mentally shot back, I won't be like that! I won't ever do that again!

Oh? Perhaps you shall grow up to poach phoenix eggs, then—

I won't be like THEM either! Snorting smoke out his nostrils, Spike wrestled with the voice, forcing it to back down. I'm not like those dragons! I'm not like other dragons! Why do you even bring this up?

Why do I even bring this up? he silently corrected. That's old stuff! Old hat, like Rarity would say! Just dumb stuff. It doesn't matter.

The voice began to raise an objection, but silenced itself. Spike smirked and laid back down in his basket, yawning. Calmed down, he dismissed the second bad dream as a fluke and stretched out underneath his blanket.

Closing his eyes, he thought, Just a little stressed from today, that's all. Not a big deal. I'll just close my eyes and—

Not like other dragons, are you?

Spike opened one eye. No, I'm not. I'm better.

Let's see... The voice paused, then continued. You're an orphan dragon raised by ponies, ponies who make you clean their kitchens and write their letters and put just the right amount of honey in their tea. Your only encounter with dragons turned you off so much that you refer to yourself as a pony, and your only brush with actually being a dragon—a true, big, strong, dragon—resulted in the near-destruction of everyone and everything you've known. You can never become a true dragon without harming or, at least, alienating those around you. Don't you see the problem with that?

Spike's eye began to twitch, then water.

"Shut up!" He spoke between his shaking claws over his mouth, slumping down on his stomach. "Shut up! Shut up!"

"... Spike?"

Twilight rolled onto her stomach and yawned, opening her eyes. She glanced down at her dragon friend, who was hunched over, buried beneath his blanket. "Are you... are you okay, Spike?"

Under the covers, Spike wrung his claws, digging into his own flesh to stop himself from crying. The voice was roaring inside his head now, poking at him, prying where nopony was permitted to enter. You're not a dragon! Who is your mother? Who is your father? Who are you? What are you?

Stop! Stop!

Just rolling over and saying you're a pony doesn't answer the question. Do you want to be cleaning up after Twilight forever?

Twilight's my friend! Shut up! Stop! Spike squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the tears.

Meanwhile, Twilight had opened her eyes fully, looking down at him in concern. "Spike? Are you okay? I thought I heard you say something... are you feeling alright?"

Maintaining his composure with all his willpower, Spike rolled onto his back and smiled up at his unicorn friend. "I'm alright, Twilight," he said quietly, holding that smile, holding it tight, for all it was worth.

"You sure?" she asked in a gentle tone.

He nodded. "Yeah! Just..." He forced a chuckle. "Just dreaming."

Twilight wasn't convinced quite yet. "... About?"

He said the first thing that came to mind. "Cake."

For crying out loud...

Twilight gave him a sideways glance and a raised eyebrow in reply. "Cake...?"

"Yeah! I was dreaming about... uh, delicious cake. Heh heh. Sorry. Erm." Spike pretended to cough and clear his throat. "Sorry, Twilight. I'll, uh, go back to bed now. And dream about cake. Yeah."

Twilight narrowed her eyes, staring straight at him. Spike flopped back down on his stomach and tried to ignore her, feeling the intensity of her gaze on his spine scales.

Somehow, after an eternity of scrutiny, Twilight let him go, crawling back into bed and pulling the blankets up to her chin.

"Goodnight, Spike," she said, sighing.

"Goodnight, Twilight," he said, trying to sound content.

Spike closed his eyes.

You know, she doesn't like you that much, anyway, the voice said.

Spike grunted, keeping his eyes shut. Refusing to acknowledge the voice.

If she really cared, she would've pried more. She wouldn't have just let you off with that ridiculous lie. But you're just a servant, anyway.

Mountains of ice cream. Rivers of it. Towers of cake touching the stars. Spike drowned out the taunting words with thoughts of wondrous, endless dessert. Caramel. Cinnamon buns. Pumpkin pie. Warm dessert. Comforting dessert. He snuggled up in his blanket and wrapped it all around him, safe in his cocoon.

Sleep began to come to him at last, but not before the voice gave him a parting shot.

Soon enough, she'll open the door again...

~

The next few days were a blur. Twilight caved in and wrote Princess Celestia, requesting the reading list and order for her Griffon Kingdom studies. Spike busied himself in organizing and reorganizing the library shelves, per Twilight's request. It was spring, after all, and with that came spring cleaning.

Try as he might, Spike could neither fully conceal his worries from Twilight, nor stop the negative little voice completely. While he knew that "it" was him, it felt completely separate from him—as if it were the work of a dark sorcerer probing into his consciousness, or the curse of some beast from Tartarus. It never had anything nice or even neutral to say, always pointing out his flaws, his mistakes, his sins, and, most terribly, his fears.

Twilight pointed out his agitated state several times a day by this point. Whether she asked if he was alright, inquired as to what was wrong, or just stared at him, Spike always had an excuse.

If it wasn't a stomachache or being tired (which he would prove by lying down or taking a nap), it was something trivial on his mind. Sometimes Rarity, sometimes Peewee—whom he still missed at times, even though setting him free was the right thing to do—but never the nightmares.

The nightmares continued, repeating themselves in small snippets of the first two over the next few days. Sometimes they would end when he touched the doorknob. Sometimes they would end when Twilight appeared in the threshold. Sometimes they ended when she screamed at him. Either way, the little voice would whisper in his ear, telling him to keep the dreams a secret.

She'll never believe you. And even if she did, why should you burden her? They're just dreams. You're supposedly the big cheese who got the Crystal Heart away from Sombra. You should be able to handle it yourself, little dragon.

Spike couldn't disagree with that. Why am I even dreaming about that stupid door? It's not even there anymore. Sombra's smithereens now... kaput! Gone! Never gonna hurt anypony again. I'm just having a rough week, that's all...

"Spike," Twilight said on Friday as she finished up the final book on the reading list, "maybe you should go take a walk or something? You seem like you need some fresh air."

"Fresh air?" Spike repeated, looking away from the shelf he was currently organizing. He tapped his chin. Well, it isn't the worst idea. And I have been working a lot... I can't say I wouldn't enjoy a nice walk through the park.

Lazy, taunted the voice with a sneer.

Spike ignored it. "Sure, Twilight!" He climbed down the ladder and stretched his arms. "A walk sounds great."

Twilight beamed. "I thought so. Just be back before dark, alright?"

"Alright, Twilight." Spike smiled as he made his way to the door, waving goodbye to his best friend in this whole, twisted world. He closed the door behind him and stepped out into the fresh, spring air.

~

Ponyville town square bustled with activity, customers happily purchasing spring wares—daises, tulips, and roses among them, Hearts and Hooves Day just around the corner—and vendors merrily counting their bits. Spike weaved in and out of the crowd, waving hello to ponies he recognized and searching for any of his friends. Hmm. No Fluttershy. No Pinkie Pie. No Rarity, Applejack, or Rainbow Dash, either. I would've thought Applejack would be out selling Sweet Apple Acres stuff at least—

"Howdy, Spike," greeted Big Macintosh, standing proudly beside his family apple stand.

Ahh, that explains it. "Hiya, Big Mac!" Spike smiled. "Where's Applejack?"

"She an' the gals are havin' a pet play date, Ah think," he said. The stallion tapped his chin. "All 'cept Miss Twilight, Ah think."

"Yeah, she's still studying," Spike replied. "I didn't know everypony was out at the park, though."

"Hmm." Big Macintosh scrunched up his nose. "Ah'm pretty sure AJ went ta Twilight's an' asked her, but she declined. Said she was busy studyin'." He shrugged. "Maybe somepony else did. There was an invite."

"Oh..." Spike scratched his forehead scales. Twilight didn't say anything about that.. or did she? I thought she might have said something earlier today about the park... or was that just something I thought I heard?

"Ya want any apples, Spike?"

But I usually get the door when Twilight's busy! But I don't remember getting it at all today... did I?

Great, bucko, you're losing your mind. A demented dragon! Ha! That's a riot. A pathetic one.

"Shut up," Spike hissed.

Big Macintosh flared his nostrils, glaring at the dragon below him. "Pardon?"

"Er!" Spike looked back up and gave the stallion an apologetic smile. "S-sorry. I was talking to myself. Anyway, uh... thanks, Big Mac, but I don't have any bits on me."

Big Macintosh tossed a red delicious at him, which Spike caught at the last second in his claws. "Yer lookin' a little hungry, so this one's on me." Shooting him a wink, he dismissed him with, "Ah hope ya have a nice day, Spike."

His stomach rumbling in protest, Spike looked at the red apple in his claws, dumbfounded. "Thanks, Big Mac," he said absentmindedly, giving him one more fake smile before melting back into the crowd.

How did I forget to eat, too? It's past noon... what's going on?

~

Spike wandered through Ponyville and the park, nibbling at the apple and drowning in his thoughts. He saw neither hide nor hair of any of his pony friends, nor their pets; a part of him wondered if he'd had that conversation with Big Macintosh at all, or if it was just in his mind. Maybe I just missed them. They probably went home already. Or maybe I didn't talk with Big Mac at all... Maybe I stole this apple... like all I stole all those other things when—

Spike stopped in his tracks right in front of a park bench. He stared down at his half-eaten apple, picking distractedly at the seeds inside. No! I didn't know what I was doing then! I didn't mean to steal! His heart began to hammer a little faster in his chest. I was just lost in my greed—my dragon-greed—and I didn't know what I was doing...

Passing the apple from one claw to the other, Spike's mind began to race. The mysterious voice was not speaking to him right now; the tumultuous thoughts whirling in his mind were his own. No, that was a long time ago. Nopony even thinks about it anymore. It doesn't even matter. I'm not like that. I'm not that dragon anymore. I'm good. I'm a good dragon.

His heart began to pound faster, adrenaline starting to fire within him. I'm good! I'm not bad! I do my best! I'm doing great! Just great! Sure, I make mistakes, but that's okay! I don't need to be perfect! I'm not perfect...

Color began to drain from his cheeks. I'm not perfect... I'm not perfect at all. Not worthy... not worthy of... forgiveness... of...

He looked down at the apple and suddenly, without warning, threw it to the ground. The fruit exploded upon impact, sending bits of red delicious flying everywhere. Two mares sitting on a nearby park bench looked up from their shared book and stared at him.

"S-sorry!" Spike took a step backwards. It was quickly becoming difficult to breathe. Spike brought a claw up to his chest, feeling his heart race beneath his talons. What am I doing? I stole an apple, and then I destroyed it! No wonder Twilight... no wonder... in that door...

"Hey, are you alright?" one of the mares, Lyra, asked kindly.

Spike nodded, stepping further back. Sweat began to trickle down his neck. His stomach churned and twisted. He coughed, feeling bile rise up in his throat. In that door... the door... she said she would...

The voice roared up at last, You see? A thief, a liar, a screw-up! Look at what you're doing!

Spike became aware that not only the two mares on the bench were looking at him. His odd behavior had drawn the attention of several other park-goers, who were eying him with concern. The other mare on the bench, Bon-Bon, chimed in, "You don't look so good... Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?"

"I... I..."

Liar, screw-up, thief! Orphan, liar, screw-up, thief, the only of your kind living in a place you don't belong! No wonder Twilight was going to send you aw—

His heart thundering in his chest, adrenaline demanding fight or flight, Spike took off, running out of the park as fast as he could.

The scenery of a bright, sunny spring day began to close in around him as he ran, his stomach twisting, turning. He kept running, running, while his thoughts swarmed and his heart beat uncomfortably fast, while he coughed and choked back bile, and all he could think of was it's over, it's over...

~

By the time Spike reached the front door to his home, the adrenaline had worn off. With it, the heart palpitations, shallow breathing, nausea, light-headedness, and sense of impending doom had disappeared as well. Left with only a hollow exhaustion, he pounded on the front door, his mind a complete blank but for the taunting voice.

Oh, knocking loudly on her front door? That's certainly going to help matters... it won't be too much longer before you're out on the streets with a stick and a—

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

The door swung wide open. Spike fell face-first into the threshold.

Twilight gasped, levitating the dragon up in her magic. "Spike! Are you alright?!"

Tears forming in his eyes, he struggled to get away, crying out, "Let me go! Let me go!"

Twilight put him down, then wrapped a foreleg around him. "What's wrong, Spike? What happened? Are you hurt?"

When Spike failed to reply, sobbing in her shoulder, Twilight sat down fully, hugging him closely to her. "Shhh... it's okay..." she murmured, nuzzling him gently. "Just let it all out... it's gonna be alright, Spike. I'm here..."

"Mmmph..." Spike sniffled, drying his tears on her shoulder before looking up. "Twilight, I—"

"Yes, Spike?" she asked gently, giving him another one-hoofed hug. She smiled and nodded encouragingly. "You can tell me whatever's on your mind, Spike. Anything."

"I..."

He opened his mouth to speak, but the voice flooded his mind once more. You're being pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You just lost your mind for absolutely no reason in the middle of the park, not to mention destroyed a stolen apple. You're losing it, boy. If you tell her what's been going on, she's going to send you away. Without a doubt, Spike. You need to calm down. Just go back to bed.

Just go back to bed. Everything will be better once you go back to bed.

Locking eyes with Twilight, Spike said, "I... I need to go to bed."

Twilight almost flinched in surprise. "Go to bed?"

"Y-yeah..." Swallowing his tears, Spike stepped away from Twilight, saying, "I... I don't feel good. Can I go to bed, please?"

She paused. "Of course you can go to bed, Spike," she said, a little confused. "Why wouldn't you think so?"

Because I know I haven't made dinner or cleaned all of the shelves you wanted cleaned today or fed Owlowiscious or done anything else that I know you'll want me to do and I can't do them because I'm such a screw-up—

He shrugged. "I-I dunno."

Twilight hugged him again, frowning. "Listen, Spike. I..." She sighed. "I know I've been a little harsh on you lately, and I'm sorry for that. I'm just stressed out about learning all of this diplomatic stuff, and... well, I took it out on you. And I'm sorry." She offered him a sad sort of smile. "I promise I won't be mad if you tell me what's wrong. No matter what. Even if it's about something I did."

"I..."

Spike looked at his feet.

Just go to bed. Just go to bed, and everything will be alright.

"I just want to sleep for now, Twilight."

She nodded.

"Okay."

~

"Twilight? Twilight! What's wrong? Where are you?!"

Spike rushed down the endless staircase of King Sombra's crystal palace. The rhythm of his claws clinking against the ancient ice as he descended sounded hollow, distant. All around him was darkness—billowing, swirling tendrils of smoke-not-smoke. He waved his claws in front of his face as he raced down, but couldn't clear the blackness before his eyes.

"Twilight?!"

His feet touching the lower level at last, Spike immediately looked around, squinting through the blinding sea. Twilight, last seen examining a strange door, was nowhere in his eyes. Feeling his heart rate begin to quicken in fear, Spike darted around from one side of the round room to the other, looking for either his friend or the door.

"Twilight! Twilight! Please! Can you hear me?"

Grasping nothingness within his talons, Spike swatted at the air in vain panic. Why was it so dark? Where had Twilight gone? Where was the door?

"Twi—"

He stopped himself when the door appeared in front of him. Simple and unassuming, it nevertheless loomed before the dragon like a towering, blasphemous edifice. The door appeared to glow in the darkness—a dim speck of light in the endless ocean of black.

Spike heard a small gasp, then darted his eyes around. "Twilight? Was that you?"

Silence.

Oh, he thought, that must have been me.

His left claw shook as he reached out to scrape across the face of the door. The glow of the door intensified at his touch, almost beginning to shine. He felt something warm and welcome beneath his talon... Perhaps this was a sign that he was getting closer? Was Twilight just playing the "hot and cold" game with him now, as they had done so long ago?

Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Spike called out one more time, "Twilight?"

No answer.

I have to keep it together! We need to get to the Crystal Heart before Sombra does, and I can't lose Twilight! She's gotta be behind this door! I didn't see her go up the stairs... He glanced towards the lower stairwell, which now appeared to have disappeared entirely. Spike swallowed. And she couldn't have gone down.

"Okay..." He took one last, saving breath. "Here goes nothing..."

Spike reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, repeating calming thoughts within his mind like a fool's mantra, if only to keep him steady for just a few seconds, just enough to open the door, and, ah, there's the door, it's open, and then—

"Twilight!" Spike's worried frown immediately upturned into the widest of smiles. Pure joy and elation filled his heart when he stepped into the threshold. There, standing with her back towards him, was Twilight Sparkle. The one pony that he couldn't imagine losing was found at last, and it took everything he had to contain himself.

"You had me worried there, Twilight!" he said as he walked up to her side. He let loose a relieved chuckle and placed a claw on her shoulder. "I almost thought you—"

"Get away from me!" Twilight flinched from his touch, spinning around to face him. In her eyes was naught but pure, fiery malice. Her brow furrowed and her nostrils flared as she regarded him in pure disgust. "Don't you touch me ever again!"

"W-what?" Spike took a step back, his jaw agape. "But—but... I—"

Suddenly, the dim light of the threshold waned as Twilight's powerful purple magic illuminated the space. Spike gasped when he looked down, seeing that his feet were now on the floorboards of the Golden Oaks Library. Endless shelves of books surrounded them. Owlowiscious even made himself a perch in the corner on top of a particularly high shelf.

Yet, despite somehow being thrust back into the familiarity of his home, there was no comfort to be found. Spike's eyes widened as Twilight levitated a stick, a red polka-dot bandana, and several books in front of her. In another quick flick of her horn, she assembled a primitive piece of luggage, tying the bandana to the stick and shoving the books inside the pouch.

"There," she said, lowering the stick into his empty claws. "That's everything. Now, get out!" The fire within Twilight's eyes roared as she thrust her muzzle towards the exit.

Confused, Spike dropped the stick and began to stammer. "But—but—Twilight! What do you me—"

"I don't want to ever see you again, Spike!" Twilight hissed, clenching her jaws and lowering her horn menacingly at him. "Don't make this harder for yourself than it already is!" she warned, pawing a forehoof at the floor. She pointed towards the door one more time. "Now, get out!"

Time slowed as it dawned upon him. She's sending me away! She's... she's abandoning me! Just like... just like...

"SPIKE!" Twilight summoned her magic, her horn beginning to glow like a threatening ember. "Get! Out! Of! My! House!"

Before he could react, Spike felt himself being yanked into the air. A panicked cry escaped from his throat as he and the hobo-stick were thrust out the open door into the Ponyville night. Spike cried out again when he landed face-first in a puddle of mud. The stick smacked against his spine as it came down with him, making him groan.

Coughing, sputtering for breath, Spike spat out some of the mud and weakly looked up at the library door. Twilight stood there, calm now, a triumphant smile on her face.

"... Why, Twilight?" he choked, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "What—what did I ever do to you?"

Twilight smirked. "You didn't have to do anything, Spike. I never needed you.

"I never needed you at all."

Twilight reared up on her hindhooves.

~

Spike was screaming.

"Twilight! Twilight! Please!"

Caught in the throes of the Sandmare's twisted embrace, he brought his claws to his face and eyes, howling.

"The door! Please! Not the door!"

He thrashed and flailed, sending his blanket and pillow flying, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Don't make me go! Don't make me leave!"

"SPIKE!"

He heard the contact of hooves against wood, the flinging of a blanket hastily off a bed. He continued to thrash and scream.

Twilight lit her horn and lifted him into the air, surrounding him a thick, purple aura. "Spike! Wake up!"

The voice came to the surface before his rational thoughts. Look at what you've done! Look at what you've done! You woke her up! You woke her up and here it comes! Here it COMES!

Spike swiped his claws at the air and struggled, seeing Twilight fling him further into the mud, seeing her banish and toss him aside like a piece of rubbish before his eyes shot open and he remembered where he was, in the library, in their home, her home, her home and he was just a guest, essentially, an assistant, an unpaid servant, a dragon in a pony world, a forever-child surrounded by adults, a forever-child who could never grow up for fear of his own terrible form, a worthless failure and a screw-up on a near-daily basis and there it was again, there it was again, his heart started to pound again and he felt that light-headed nausea, and now he was coughing and the world was starting to—

His eyes shot open. He was awake. Alive.

Twilight gently laid Spike down on her bed, then sat down beside him. She placed both forehooves on his shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes. "Spike, what's wrong? What happened?"

He wiped at one of his eyes in shame and looked away. "Twilight... I..."

"What's going on? What did you see?"

He stared at his feet. "I—"

Twilight placed a forehoof under his chin and gently made him face her. "Spike, please. I know something's wrong. You've been... you were asleep for almost thirteen hours, Spike," she said, glancing at a clock from the corner of her eye.

Witching Hour. The time of strongest magic.

Spike played with his claws and shrugged, avoiding her eyes again. She'll never believe me. It's just a dream! I'm freaking out over a dream! I almost passed out today because I threw an apple on the ground!

Twilight lifted his chin again. "Spike... please..." She paused, biting her lip. "Please don't lie to me. Something's bothering you. Something's been bothering you all week, hasn't it?"

Silence.

She sighed, shaking her head in shame. "I... I should have realized it sooner. You haven't been acting like yourself, Spike. Was it something I said? Is it because of the scroll?" Her eyes widened. "I really shouldn't have yelled at you because of that scroll! It was replaced, and—"

"Twilight..."

"Or was it because of the kitchen thing? I'm sorry! I was just in a really grouchy mood and I should've been more appreciative, I mean... after all, you did clean that AND the bathroom by yourself—"

"Twilight..."

"I'm sorry for being so distant lately, just staying inside and studying, Spike... I should've realized that I was taking things too seriously, and—"

"TWILIGHT!"

Twilight closed her mouth, removing her forehooves from Spike's shoulders, not a moment too soon. He snorted angrily, adrenaline rising, fear and doubt transforming into anger before her eyes. "How... how could you..." he stammered, fire and ice in his voice, cold and furious. "How could you—"

"How could I—"

"How could you abandon me like that?!"

Twilight blinked. "What do you—"

"The door!" Spike exclaimed, snorting hot smoke through his nostrils. Twilight flinched and scooted away from him, seeing fire in his eyes. "When I opened the door, you were sending me away! You were throwing me out of here and saying you didn't want to see me ever again!"

Twilight's fearful expression softened to one of sorrowful realization. "Spike... what was in the doorway of Sombra's palace, it was just a fear, Spike... I never would—"

"Then why am I just an assistant to you?!" he barked, feeling his muscles clench under his skin. Spike sensed in that moment the sharpness of his spines and claws—the needle-like protrusions of his fangs. For a moment, he felt truly draconic, furious, imposing, making Twilight cower on her corner of the bed.

Dragon might yielded to unicorn magic with a simple purple spark, pushing Spike down on the bed and wrapping him in a soothing, cooling magic. He shivered at the strange sensation, a sort of comfortable coldness spreading through his veins, starting at his heart and working its way down.

"Spike," Twilight said gently, almost whispering, "you are far more than an assistant to me. You're my friend, Spike. My very first friend, and my best one."

"I—"

"Shhhh," she said, smiling, still casting her spell. "This will help you relax."

He nodded and closed his eyes, feeling all the poisonous adrenaline drain from his epicenter. His heart began to beat normally, calmly. The urge to fight or flee disappeared, as did his tensed muscles and nausea.

Twilight waited until she was finished before she spoke up again. Once her spell ended, she pulled Spike into a sideways-hug and spoke to him in a calm, gentle voice. "Spike, I assure you, you mean far more to me than I can ever express. Who was there for me when I was in Canterlot, surrounding myself with thousands of books and not a single friend?"

She beamed. "You were. Who was there with me when I first came to this town, knowing not a single soul and not wanting to know any of them?" She smiled again. "You were."

"And..." Twilight paused, releasing him from her hug. "Who was there with me, trying to reach the Crystal Heart before that awful King Sombra did?"

She gestured for him to finish.

He did so with the tiniest hint of a smile. "I... I was?"

"That's right, Spike." Twilight nodded, then frowned. "I... Sometimes I don't always remember those things, I think. Sometimes I just get so caught up in what needs to be done that I order you around or treat you like you mean less to me than you do..." Twilight looked away for a moment, her eyes resting on Owlowiscious.

The owl lifted his wing towards Spike and prompted, "Who?"

Twilight smiled graciously and turned back to her dragon friend. "Spike, can you forgive me?"

C'mon, you can't really believe that! She's just buttering you up! Just trying to make you feel better because you're just so pathetic, so pathetic and—

Noticing his hesitation, Twilight added, "You don't have to forgive me just yet, Spike. I know..." She paused. "I know I haven't exactly treated you the way I should. But, I promise I'll do whatever I need to do to change that."

Spike forced a smile.

You're really buying this?

"Yes I am," he answered aloud.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "You are what?"

"Er..." Spike turned away from her. "It's nothing. S-sorry."

"No." Twilight carefully placed a forehoof on his shoulder. "Spike, please. Tell me what's on your mind. Tell me anything. Everything. It... it really hurts to see you upset like this."

Spike whirled around and looked at her. "Anything?"

"Of course."

Spike bit his lip.

Twilight removed her forehoof from his shoulder and gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I promise, no matter what you say, Spike, you're not going anywhere, and neither am I."

"But... what if..."

"What if what?"

"What if I'm crazy?" he blurted, covering his mouth with his claws and avoiding her eyes when he realized what he'd let slip. Oh, great, here you go, screw-up...

"Spike... I'm sure you're not crazy. Remember the Smarty Pants incident?" Twilight asked, wincing at her own words. She forced a chuckle. "If anypony is crazy, then it's me for doing something like that."

"Heh, yeah..." Spike scratched at the scales on his bicep and sighed. Okay, stupid voice. I'm ratting you out. Whether I'm crazy or not, I can't listen to you anymore. "Twilight..."

Twilight pricked her ears and rested her head on her forehooves, listening intently.

"Twilight... I...

"I hear this voice."

She cocked her head. "Oh?"

"Y-yeah." Spike nodded.

"Okay..." Twilight searched for the right response, settling on a question. "What does it say?"

"It tells me..." He took a deep breath, choosing to spill it all on his exhalation. "It tells me that I'm worthless, that I'm a screw-up, a liar, it brings up things that are really painful... like when I got greedy and grew out of control, and when I went off to try to be with the other dragons... and... it..."

Twilight said nothing, only listening.

Spike continued, "It tells me... I'm not worthy of being your assistant, or your fr-friend..." A small sob escaped from his mouth, but he bit his lip, forcing those tears to retreat. "It tells me that I'm gonna drive you away if I tell you about the nightmares, or about i-it..."

"Nightmares?"

He nodded. "I keep dreaming about the door... about you... behind it, throwing me out—"

"Oh, Spike..."

He made no motion to resist as she embraced him.

Spike wept into Twilight's shoulder, clinging to her neck. Through his cries, he told her more about the voice—how it fought and argued, how it called him names, how it made him fear, how it made him doubt, how it made him question even simple things, such as if he'd actually been given an apple by Big Macintosh.

When there were no more tears left—only that aching, itching redness in his eyes, and his blubbering, smokey nose—Spike finally looked up at Twilight. "So... so, I'm crazy, right?"

Twilight answered him with a question of her own. "The voice isn't telling you to hurt anypony, right?"

"R-right..."

"And you know it's coming from you, right?"

"Y-yes..."

She tapped her chin in thought. "And you said that you have been forgetting things more frequently since it arrived, right? And worrying more?"

He nodded again, wiping his nose with a claw.

"Spike..." Twilight rubbed his shoulder gently. "Spike, I know you aren't crazy."

"H-how can you be sure?" he asked. It can't be normal to argue with voices in your head...

"Well..." Twilight blushed, cringing a little. "When I had my own... er, episode with the Smarty Pants doll and all... I had something similar happen. I, um, spoke to Princess Celestia about it afterwards, actually."

"Really?" Spike visibly perked up. "So, you heard a voice, too?"

Twilight nodded. "Yes. Princess Celestia explained that sometimes when we have a little, negative voice like that in our heads, it doesn't mean we're crazy. As long as we know it's ours and we aren't being told to hurt anypony, it's not crazy."

"Oh... well, what does it mean?"

"It means that we are sick," Twilight said gently, lifting his chin. "Like when somepony gets the feather flu or pony pox. We're just sick, Spike. We need care, just like anypony else. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Spike tilted his head. "So... when you did that thing with the doll... you were sick?"

"Yes, Spike," Twilight admitted, her ears flattening. "I was sick. I worried myself sick... all the stress, all that fear, all that dread..."

Sounds a lot like me...

"And... sometimes, I still get sick." An understanding smile snaked across her muzzle. "Some of us just get sick more often than others. Like how Thunderlane gets the feather flu nearly every year. Or Pinkie Pie gets the stomach flu from trying too many undercooked sweets."

They both shared a laugh.

Spike moved over and sat beside Twilight, resting his head on her shoulder. "So... so, I'm just sick, then? What's the medicine?"

Twilight shook her head. "There is no medicine, Spike. No cure."

Spike looked away, twiddling his claws. "Oh."

"But!" Twilight smiled at him. "That doesn't mean you can't get better. I got better. It's not something I'll ever be cured of, but there are things I can do to prevent myself from getting sick again, or things I can do to manage it when I do get sick. Does that make sense?"

"I... I guess."

Across the room, Owlowiscious spread his wings, then flew over to them. The owl crawled up onto one of Spike's shoulders and nuzzled his cheek against his forehead scales, making the dragon chuckle.

Twilight giggled. "See, Spike? Even Owlowiscious wants to help you feel better and get well."

"Who," the owl affirmed, closing his eyes and rustling his wings.

Spike laughed, then gave both his friends a sideways-hug. "Thanks, Twilight," he said, looking up at her. A slight smile spread across his face. "I know you can help me get better."

"And I know you can get better, too, Spike. You just need to fight that voice, okay? Don't listen to anything it says. It's wrong. Trust me on that," she added, determination in her eyes.

"I trust you, Twilight. You know why?"

"Why's that, Spike?"

"Because," he said. "This whole time we've been talking... since I've told you about it... it's been quiet."

Twilight smiled and held him tight.

"See?" she said. "You're getting better already."

"Heh, yeah!" He giggled.

Twilight squeezed his shoulder. "I won't say it's easy, Spike, it's not... but... I want to help you get better. And I want to treat you better, too. I want to help you with those questions you have... about yourself, about being a dragon... anything."

Spike rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. "Thanks, Twilight. I'll have to take you up on that," he joked, grinning.

Twilight yawned in turn, while Owlowiscious glided from Spike's shoulder back to his perch. "How about all three of us get some shut-eye, you think?"

"Mmhmm." Dreamily, Spike hopped off Twilight's bed and stumbled into his own.

Pulling the covers over himself, he said, "Goodnight, Twilight."

She smiled, snuggling back into her own sheets. "Goodnight, Spike."

"Who, who," Owlowiscious said quietly, closing his eyes.

There was a brief pause, and then, silence.

~

For tonight, the voice was silent as well.

When Spike closed his eyes again that night, he didn't see the door.

He didn't see much of anything, really.

After all, he was sick.

But he was going to get better.

Twilight said so.

And he believed her.

And that was enough.

Author's Note

Remember, if you can hold on, hold on.