Broken Record

by Crosis

Chapters

2. Strange Meeting
3. Intensive Care
1. Somewhere in Time

2. Strange Meeting

Strange Meeting

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned

William Butler Yeats: The Second Coming

“Excellent. He’s arrived safely. Should be making contact any minute.”

“Are you sure this was a good idea?”

“Oh come now, this again? We already decided that he was the best choice; essential to the timeline, but with-”

“I understand that! What I don’t is why you chose to place him right in their bedroom, in the middle of the night! How do you expect he’ll react when he wakes up? How do you think THEY’LL react when he wakes up?!”

“What would you have preferred? Some deserted alleyway? The Everfree forest?”

“And why not? At least then his arrival wouldn’t risk causing a panic!”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but that’s not quite how it works. For a chronoshift this massive, you need a focal point, not some random place. To transport him safely, I had to choose a standing holistic wave front found in the memory of a living being. The signature of his past self was the obvious choice.”

“But are you sure that-”

“Don’t worry so much. Spike’s always had a good head on his shoulders. He might be a tad bewildered at first, but things will work out fine.”

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The second she had called him, Spike had leapt out of his basket and scampered over to Twilight. Grasping hold of her neck, he buried his face into her mane. A single foreleg reached out to pull him closer, soft whispers from Twilight relaxing his shivering body.

Twilight, however, was anything but relaxed. To be honest, she was downright terrified. When Spike first screamed, she thought it nothing more than a simple nightmare, probably that dream about zombies again. It wasn’t until she heard him kicking and struggling that she grew worried. She’d originally intended to just levitate him into bed with her, but something told her that she needed to see what was happening. Of all the horrible possibilities she’d dismissed, nothing prepared her for the sight of a stranger leaning over Spike’s basket, smothering her baby dragon while she watched. A thousand horrible thoughts passed through her mind. Burglary, dragon-napping, murder…

She shook her head to banish the thoughts. Right now she needed to focus on what was important: getting her and Spike safely out of the house.

A quick glance told her that this would be easier said than done. The obvious exit was the front door, but their uninvited guest was lying directly in front of it. A closer look, however, told her that he might not be that daunting of an obstacle. At the moment, he looked to be completely unaware of their presence. Instead, he was dazedly staring at his hooves and mane.

She looked closer, taking note of how much spaced existed between the stallion and the door. Even with his limbs splayed out there looked to be adequate room for her and Spike to inch around him, assuming they were pressed flat to the wall.

She tried to envision their escape; Spike on her back as she snuck around the intruder, flung open the door, and raced into the safety of the night. Instead, she imagined one of the stallion’s legs darting out as quick as lightning, tripping and sending her crashing to the floor, Spike falling from her back and rolling to a stop. He would be too far for her to reach, and she would only be able to watch in horror as a raised hoof came down and…

No. Even if it was the quickest means of egress, she was not going to risk herself or Spike by getting within reach of that… thing. There had to be another way out!

Biting her lip, Twilight’s eyes flicked to the windows. No good. The thought of turning her back for even a moment was undesirable, the amount of time it would take to open one, lift or levitate Spike to the sill and then climb up herself was out of the question.

Her eyes flicked to the staircase behind them. It was clear and easily reached, but the second level was a dead-end. If the stallion pursued, they would be trapped, left with only a sheer drop from the balcony as a means of escape.

For a moment she considered a teleportation spell, but immediately disregarded it. She needed a great deal more practice before she could confidently transport a passenger. If she tried now… she didn’t know what would happen. Spike could end up being lost on the way, or even left behind! A chill ran down her spine at the thought of escaping alone, of leaving her baby dragon at the mercy of a potentially crazed intruder.

Twilight held Spike closer, mind racing as she ran out of options. There was no way out that didn’t put one or both of them at risk! She swallowed nervously, wishing that the princess was here…

Wait, the princess! That was it!

Directing her attention to Spike’s writing desk, she carefully, CAREFULLY lifted a quill and a single scroll into the air. Taking note of the stallion’s line of sight, she maneuvered them low to the ground, then slowly pulled them in. Inch by inch, their last hope drifted closer. Almost… almost…

“AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

The stallion began to scream, an earsplitting calliope screech that echoed through the small room and nearly deafened the student and her assistant.

Twilight shrank back in fright, watching in horrified fascination as the pegasus pony began to roll and flail about on the floor. His hooves writhed and strained, looking as if he was trying to stretch, pull, and even detach his legs from their sockets. Corded muscle stood out on his neck as his head twisted in all directions, his eyes frantically sweeping over his body.

Trying to calm herself, Twilight ignored the continuing screams and once again lifted the items from the ground. When they finally settled at her hooves, she lifted a leg and nudged Spike gently.

“Spike,” she whispered. Her only response was a muffled whimper as he buried his face deeper into her coat, claws pressed to his ears to try and drown out the screams.

“Spike, please. I need you to look at me.”

His face lifted, and she risked a glance down to see his nervous eyes staring up at her.

“You have to send a letter to the princess. Right now.” She gestured to the quill at his feet.

“A letter,” he asked. “But, but what about,” he pointed fearfully at the stallion, who had ceased screaming but was still thrashing about in a panic. “Sho… shouldn’t we get out of here first?”

“That’s why we need to send this letter. If we tell Celestia what’s going on, I know she’ll come and help us.” Understanding lit up the dragon’s eyes, and he quickly unrolled the parchment.

“What should it say?”

“Just the important things,” she said hurriedly. “Strange pony in the house, not safe, need help!”

Forgoing a response, the young dragon set quill to paper, scribbling as fast as his little claws could go. Twilight could only wait, her gaze nervously set on the stallion. His movements were beginning to slow, and she found herself praying that the quiet scratching of the quill would fail to catch his attention. The second ticked by, only scrapes against paper and the quick, shallow breathing of their guest to break the silence.

Finally, Spike pulled the quill away and glanced to Twilight for confirmation. She nodded quickly, and he rolled up the parchment and lifted it to his mouth. A short inhalation, a burst of green flame, and the letter was on its way.

Twilight sighed in relief, only to freeze as a sound came from ahead. Hooves against stone. She looked up to see the pegasus walking unsteadily towards them, an almost crazed gleam in his eyes.

He screamed. Screamed until his throat went hoarse, his mouth ran dry and his lungs seemed ready to burst. That was about all he could do; his brain had just about shut down, mired in terrified, uncomprehending panic. His legs swung wildly in his desperation to escape from this new form. The feel of his body was strange, alien, and frightening. From the warm fur to the useless, hair covered tail to the horrible lack of fingers, there was no remaining trace of what he once was except his purple coat and green mane, and those seemed more of a mocking reminder than a comfort.

His screams finally tapered off, and he gulped in quick, shuddering breaths that bordered on hyperventilation. His mind had regained a small measure of clarity, though the only thoughts that raced through his head were babbling denials.

‘This can’t be happening… this can’t be happening… this can’t be happening…’

A sudden, almost giddy sense of hope flooded through him. Maybe it wasn’t happening! Maybe this wasn’t real at all! He was probably still sleeping, yes, that was it! Nothing but a simple dream that had somehow morphed into a frighteningly lucid nightmare. He just had to snap himself out of it! Buoyed by this sudden burst of confidence, he drew back a hoof and drove it full force into the side of his muzzle.

His head snapped to the side from the force of the blow, pain blooming across his face. He blinked tears from his eyes, coughed, tasted blood. The pain had settled into numbness by the time his hoof raised again, this time to gently press against his injured jaw. He hadn’t dreamt that punch. It had hurt, still hurt. He wasn’t dreaming after all.

His hoof traveled lower, first running across his throat, then down to prod gently against a shoulder. It all felt real enough, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t believe that he was really stuck like this.

The room suddenly lit up with a green burst of light. He looked to the side and watched as a scroll burnt into ash and floated into the air. Staring at the young dragon, his heart clenched with longing and nostalgia. THAT was what he should look like, what he truly was. He just didn’t know how he changed in the first place, let alone how to get back.

It was only when his gaze drifted to the pony standing beside the dragon that an idea formed in his mind. Of course, Twilight! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? She was the greatest and smartest unicorn in the world; she’d probably know how to fix him! And if she didn’t, well, they’d research and study and find the answer, no matter what it took. That was what best friends did for each other.

He clambered to his hooves, still clumsy and off-balance. He began to walk towards them carefully, not wanting to fall a second time. He had barely taken his third step when Twilight’s head lifted to face him. Fear and hostility shone in her eyes, and he subconsciously took a step back. Her horn was glowing, the magical energy pointed at him warningly.

“Not another step closer,” she hissed in a tone that had never before been directed at him.

“Alright,” he said. “I won’t move; just… just calm down, okay?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I don’t how you got in here, or what you want, but I want you out of our home right now!”

“Please, Twilight! I know you don’t recognize me, but just hear-”

“How do you know my name,” she interrupted. “Have you been spying on us? Stalking?”

“No, nothing like that! It’s me, Spike! You know, your number-one assistant?” He could see that she was about to protest, so he continued rapidly. “I know what it looks like, but it really is me, I somehow turned into, well, this,” he gestured wildly to his pony body.

Her expression softened for a moment, and it looked as though she was seriously considering his story. Then her eyes shifted to the dragon beside her, and the glare returned full-force.

“Alright, let’s say I believe you. Let’s pretend that somehow, you are Spike, MY Spike, inexplicably ponified overnight.” She brought a hoof to her chin, feigning confusion.

“I suppose transformation spells might exist that could be responsible for this situation. But even then, there’s something very bizarre that you’ll need to explain. If you really are Spike, then who is this?” She placed a hoof against the younger Spike’s arm. To this, the pegasus had no answer.

Twilight nodded, as if the matter was closed. “Even if a change of shape could be rationalized, there is no logical explanation for there being two of you! Conclusively, one of you has to be an imposter, and you’ll have to excuse me if I trust the one I know and recognize.”

“I… I don’t know how there’s two of him. I mean me! I mean us! All I know is that I had this weird dream where the whole world was going crazy, then there was this old stallion talking to somepony I couldn’t see, then I got sucked through a window, and there were these yellow eyes that…”

He vaguely realized that he was ranting like a maniac, and that he was slowly advancing on the frightened pair. He also noticed that Twilight had once again pulled his younger self protectively behind her, and that the unicorn’s body was beginning to tense, unconsciously preparing for fight or flight.

“Listen to me,” Twilight pleaded. “You’re confused, and you aren’t who you think you are. You need help, but we can’t give it to you!”

“Yes, you can! You have to believe me,” Spike yelled. “If you’ll just trust me for a second, I can prove it to you!”

Had he been thinking clearly, he might have recognized the warning signs from his oldest and dearest friend. If he had only calmed down, backed off, things might have been different.

Instead, he took another step forward.

Twilight’s horn lit up with a flash; she turned her head to the right and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Stay… BACK!”

Grabbing the first item in range, she swung her neck and flung it directly at him.

Spike threw himself to the floor, narrowly avoiding the heavy wooden bookstand that sailed over his back and smashed to pieces against the wall. He scrambled to his hooves, staring in shock at the pony before him.

Twilight was breathing heavily, her horn alight with unreleased power. The fear was plain on her face, but there was ferocity there as well. It was the violent desperation of an animal backed into a corner, and it was directed squarely at him.

“Wait, stop!” He raised his forelegs in surrender, hoping to somehow placate her before she caved in his skull. “Come on, Twi, please!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT,” she screamed. To his left, a heavy brass candlestick rose into the air and was fired as straight and fast as an arrow. This time the pegasus flung himself to the side to avoid impalement, while the candlestick shattered the window behind him and vanished into the night.

Spike’s mind was racing. She wasn’t just trying to scare him off, she was trying to kill him! He leapt to his hooves just as Twilight launched a third salvo, and he found himself barraged by a storm of smaller objects. Quills whizzed by his face, an inkstand glanced off his forehead, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut by a particularly heavy paperweight.

With no better option, Spike dashed straight at Twilight. At first she stepped back in fright, but then determination shone in her eyes and her horn flared as she charged her magic once again.

He leapt forward before she could release the spell, catching the unicorn in a tackle and sending both ponies crashing to the floor.

If she was winded by the impact, Twilight didn’t show it. She kicked and struck at Spike, fighting to knock the larger pony off of her. Knowing that he would most likely end up blasted into next week if she escaped, Spike fought to hold her down. This was much easier said than done, as Twilight was thrashing like a rabid Diamond Dog.

Hoping to at least spare himself from getting a hoof to the gut, Spike bent his legs and straddled the purple unicorn. Her eyes widened and she tried to pull back, but he had already clamped his hind-legs over her own, trapping and holding them in place. Twilight’s face reddened, though out of embarrassment or rage he didn’t know.

“Get off of me,” Twilight snarled. Managing to pull one of her forelegs out from under him, she swung full-force at his head.

Spike managed to catch the hoof a few inches from his face. Reluctant to let her knock out his teeth, he grasped both of her forelegs and pinned them to the floor over her head.

Twilight struggled, tried to twist or wrench free, but he was stronger. The unicorn wrestled and bucked and strained. Spike simply held her immobile, putting as little pressure on her legs as he could manage.

Gradually, her movements slowed, her legs stilling beneath him. Twilight rested her head against the floor, drawing in deep panting breaths.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. “Man, glad that’s over! So, you cooled down enough yet? Or do you wanna throw a bookcase at me?” The unicorn only turned further away and shut her eyes. Spike frowned in concern. Dipping his head, he nudged the side of her face.

“Twi? Are you alri-”

Her head whipped around in a flash, horn already glowing. Spike leaned away instantly, snapping his head back just in time to watch a bolt of pure magic go screaming an inch over his nose. As an explosion came from behind him, Twilight’s horn began to spark again.

Spike’s frustration hit a crescendo. He still didn’t know what was going on or what had happened to him, and this was definitely the last thing he needed! Why wouldn’t she listen to him?

He was just going to have to MAKE her listen…

Fast as lightning, he lifted one of his hooves away from Twilight’s forelegs, using his left leg to hold down both of her limbs. His right hoof he pressed against Twilight’s muzzle. Before she could react, he slammed her face back against the floor.

Twilight cried out in pain, her spell dissipating into nothingness. Her struggles resumed, but Spike pushed down harder, no longer concerned with how much pressure he was exerting.

“Just. Relax,” he ordered.

“Please… please let go,” she whimpered. “You’re hurting me!”

Spike shook his head. “I’ll let you up, but not until you’ve…”

His words cut off as a quartet of needles plunged into either side of his neck. He recoiled, more from shock than actual pain, and dimly noticed the added weight on his back, the feel of arms and scales against his coat, and the sensation of legs kicking against his wings.

‘Must be Spike,’ he thought, and then the young dragon’s hands clenched, the claws driving in further, and it suddenly felt as though a band of fire had been wrapped around his neck.

The pegasus wrenched back his head and screamed in agony. Thin rivulets of blood flowed down his neck, staining the purple fur as he attempted to dislodge his attacker. Desperately, he lifted his hoof from Twilight’s face and swung it back over his shoulder, trying in vain to knock the dragon from his back. In response, the younger Spike pressed himself flat and tightened his grip, releasing another bloody spray from the stallion’s neck.

Spike’s head felt as though it was growing heavier; a dull sluggishness seemed to swelling up from the base of his skull. His mane and coat were slick with blood, but he was barely aware of anything besides the hot, piercing feel of the claws in his neck. Caring about nothing else, he drove his hoof back again and again.

From the corner of his eye he saw Twilight lifting her head, saw the panic in her expression and the first signs of a bruise on the side of her face. She yelled something, the words and meaning swallowed up by the dreadful pounding in his ears. It must have been some plea or warning to his younger self, for the dragon shouted back, his tiny body still latched to Spike’s neck like some scaly parasite.

But that grip was beginning to loosen. A plan started to form through the electric current of pain that blanketed his mind.

Back in Ponyville, back when he was still a dragon, he remembered a contest between Applejack and Rainbow Dash. One of the events had forced him to ride each of the girls, trying to keep his balance as they did their best to send him flying.

He inwardly chuckled at the memory. It hadn’t taken more than a few seconds for each of them to launch him sky high. Maybe now… he could do the same. Just buck the little bastard right off!

‘Except that back then you didn’t have your claws halfway into their necks for support,’ a cynical part of his mind whispered. ‘And they weren’t busy holding down Twilight. You’re out of your league here, Spike old boy.’

He ignored it and braced himself. Planting his free hoof on the floor, he braced, and then jerked his upper body violently to the left. Spike’s passenger gave a startled yelp as his small body whiplashed to the side, the claws on his left hand pulling free.

The remaining claws dug in harder, but Spike grinned fiercely and jerked again to the right. This time he didn’t give the dragon a chance to recover, but immediately reversed direction. He thrashed back and forth, sometimes repeating his movements to keep his younger self off-balance. Finally, his work paid off, and he felt the remaining claws slip out one by one.

Almost…

Now!

He lowered himself down until Twilight’s muzzle almost met his own. He could see her mouth open in surprise, and then she was looking over his shoulder.

“Spike! Get off of him, he’s going to-”

Spike reared up, putting every ounce of force he could muster into throwing back his shoulders. For a brief moment, the dragon’s weight moved with him, but then he felt claws sliding across his bloody coat and the weight vanished. There was a brief, strangled cry that was drowned out by the crash and splinter of wood, followed by a dull thud.

“Spike!” Twilight screamed. “Are you alright? SPIKE!”

“He’ll be fine.”

The mare’s tired body exploded into renewed struggles, forcing Spike to once again fight to hold her down. He might have had the advantage in strength, but Twilight was now running on pure adrenaline. He could feel his foreleg being slowly pushed up by her hooves, and he clapped his left hoof down atop it to force them back to the floor. He gasped for air, sweat beading on his face from the effort of restraining her.

“LET ME GO,” she shrieked into his face. “Spike’s hurt! He needs help! Needs me!” She kicked up with both her hind legs, momentarily lifting his body into the air. “Let me help him, damn you!”

“Haven’t you listened?” Spike growled. “I’m not letting you up until you,” one of her hooves slipped out of his hold, and he quickly pulled it back and pressed down hard against her forelegs, earning another pained yelp. “Calm down!”

It was as though a switch had been flipped. All the resistance left her as Twilight’s body went limp against the floor. He felt her muscles relaxing, looked to make sure that her limbs were still held captive under his own, and then he heard it.

It was her voice, that same familiar tone that had dictated letters and praised and scolded and comforted him for as long as he could remember, but it had never once sounded like this. This was a broken and defeated whisper that barely escaped the unicorn’s lips.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll stop fighting. I promise. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He looked to see tears streaking down Twilight’s face, her beautiful eyes wide and fearful. Afraid… of HIM. She tried to speak again, but her words broke down into sobs, and she began to weep.

Spike felt like a block of ice had fallen into his stomach. Everything faded out. The pain in his neck, the fear and bewilderment at his situation, nothing seemed to matter except the look on Twilight’s face.

She choked back a sob, and whispered one final plea. “Please… just don’t hurt us anymore…”

Those words cut deeper than if his younger self’s claws had dug into his heart. His mind swirled emotions: guilt, disgust, shame, regret. His eyes swept up Twilight’s disheveled form to the bruise covering her face, then to her forelegs that were cut and chafed from his hooves. He pulled away as if he’d been burned, instead resting a hoof on either side of the unicorn’s shoulders.

‘What have I done,’ he asked himself. To think, the most important pony in the world to him, and look at what he had done to her. And what about…

He didn’t want to look, in fact he dreaded the very thought of it. But something made him turn his head, and when he saw his younger self, his stomach gave a violent lurch.

The dragon was sprawled lifelessly on the floor, half of his body covered in the broken pieces of a table that lay around him. It must have broken under him when he was thrown off the stallion’s back. A line of blood trickled from a ragged gash on his forehead, and one of his arms was twisted underneath him. A splintered chunk of wood protruded from the underside of one knee. His breaths were short and shallow.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, no. No, please goddess, no!” His head spun, and his hooves gave out beneath him. He slumped forward onto Twilight, too stunned to even think straight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the unicorn’s ear. “I didn’t mean… I would never… I’m so sorry…”

He looked into her teary eyes as his own began to water. He tried to project every bit of his remorse and disgrace through his gaze. It might’ve been his imagination, mere wishful thinking or delusion, but he was sure that for an instant he saw recognition in the unicorn’s eyes, as if she saw past his unfamiliar voice and body. Her mouth opened, she began to speak.

And then the door swung open with a thundering bang, and Spike found himself lifted into the air by an unseen force. He hung there for a minute, trying to twist in midair to identify this new arrival, and then from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a shimmering multi-hued mane.

Suddenly the invisible presence around him thickened, tightened, gripped him so hard his bones ached. Then he was thrown across the room at subsonic speeds, hurtling into a bookcase with a resounding crash.

There was a great flare of pain, the snap of bones, and then his vision turned white as the world swam out of focus.

Celestia was startled awake by a flash of light and the sharp crack of displaced air. Sitting up on her haunches, she blinked the sleep from her eyes as a scroll materialized from thin air.

Celestia merely watched as the scroll fell to the mattress, her sleep-fogged mind still trying to process what she was looking at. Realization finally set in, and the princess felt a throb of annoyance as she looked down at the letter. One of the first lessons she had hammered into both Twilight and Spike’s heads was a rule on what times were appropriate to send her messages.

Three in the morning was not one of them.

She debated tossing the message onto her nightstand and leaving it for the morning. Chances were it was some studious revelation which Twilight had felt was too important to wait. Or maybe Spike ate too many amethysts before bed and was feeling ill.

Whatever it was, it could surely wait another four hours.

She levitated the scroll off her mattress and placed it to the side. With a quick yawn, she settled back against her pillow, eager to return to a much-deserved rest.

A few minutes passed, and gradually a nagging feeling crept into her thoughts. Whether it was curiosity or concern, it would not let her fall asleep until she had examined the message. Sitting back up, she pulled the scroll over, and that was when she noticed something strange. The letter had been rolled up quite sloppily, as if Spike had been in a great hurry when he sent it. Some might not find this odd, but the unicorn and dragon were infamous for their meticulousness and attention to detail. Whatever matter the scroll addressed, it had to be serious.

Intrigued, Celestia unrolled the parchment and quickly looked over the text. Immediately she knew something was wrong. Spike’s normally flawless handwriting was barely legible; the letters were scrawled with hard and careless strokes that left tears and spots of ink on the parchment.

She read hurriedly, pulse beginning to race as she reached the letter’s end. How much time had she wasted since the letter was sent? What could have happened to Twilight and Spike while she sat here? She had to help them! Tossing the scroll away, she leapt from her bed and rushed into the hall. The three dozing pegasus guards snapped to alertness at her approach, one of them giving a nervous salute.

“Princess! We didn’t expect you to, that is, we were just…”

“Enough!” She commanded sharply. “My students are in danger. Come with me, now.”

The guards could only nod and follow as Celestia galloped down the hallway. Heading for the first available window, the alicorn flew out into the night, praying that she wasn’t too late.

The flight to their dorm was among the tensest times in Celestia’s long life. She had no idea what she might find when she reached them, but she could imagine, and what she imagined was in no way reassuring.

The building finally came into view. Not willing to waste another moment, she tucked her wings and fell into a dive. She landed hard, but paid no mind to the aching in her legs as she ran for the door.

Slamming it open, she caught sight of an unfamiliar pony and immediately levitated him into the air.

At that point, she thought that perhaps she had made a very awkward mistake.

While pulling him into the air, Celestia noticed that the stallion had been laying atop Twilight, straddling her, to be more precise. At the sight of his damp mane and sweat-covered body, a furious blush settled over her face.

Spike’s letter had mentioned a strange pony in the house, screaming and making weird noises, and then thrashing around for reasons the dragon couldn’t understand. It was beginning to look as if this was all a grave misunderstanding. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Celestia decided that it might be best if Spike spent the remainder of the night with her instead of Twilight. In the morning, she would explain the situation… and give him “The Talk.”

Looking back at Twilight and the stallion, she prepared to apologize for disrupting their private moment, and maybe give Twilight a quick lecture on the availability of hotel rooms.

That was when she noticed the blood.

At first glance she failed to notice it against the pegasus pony’s dark purple coat, but now she could see the glistening sanguine trails that ran down his neck. She tracked a single drop as it flowed down his chest, then a leg, then fell and landed on Twilight’s cheek.

A cheek that was marred by a large and painful-looking bruise.

Celestia stepped back, her mouth wide with horror. Her gaze swept over the room, the pieces falling into place.

A broken window with a shattered bookstand beside it.

Twilight lying on the floor, tears in her eyes.

A bruise on her face, as though she’d been struck by a hoof.

Cuts and scrapes on her forelegs, as though they’d been pinned to the floor.

And then, worst of all, the sight of Spike’s motionless body half-buried under the remnants of a table.

Celestia was seeing red. A cold surge of anger bled into her thoughts as her eyes shot back to the stallion gripped in her magic.

She didn’t know who he was, or where he came from, and frankly, she didn’t care in the slightest.

But he hurt her two most precious subjects, and he was going to regret it.

Taking a firmer hold, she launched him into the far wall, taking a dark satisfaction in the sound of his body’s impact. Looking back to her stunned guards, she nodded in the stallion’s direction. “Watch him,” she ordered.

They hastily complied, and Celestia slowly approached Twilight, nuzzling the uninjured side of her student’s face.

“Twilight,” she asked gently. “Are you alright?”

The unicorn opened her eyes, relief visible through the tears. “Princess, you came.”

“Of course I did,” Celestia assured her. “I will always look after you both. Are you badly hurt?” Her eyes drifted down to the bruise.

Twilight shook her head. “It’s not as serious as it looks. I’m more worried about…” her eyes widened and she scrambled to her hooves. Racing between the alicorn’s legs, she headed for the broken table and the still form beneath it.

“Spike,” she called worriedly. Horn glowing, she pulled him out of the wreckage and embraced him.

“Wake up,” she pleaded. “Please wake up!”

Celestia approached slowly, trying to diagnose Spike’s injuries, or at least the external ones. Numerous small cuts across the dragon’s face and chest and a superficial gash on his forehead were the least troubling wounds, though she was unable to tell if he had suffered any serious head trauma. It also looked as though his arm had been broken, and the shard of wood piercing his leg was her most immediate concern.

Resolving to get him treated as soon as possible, Celestia called on her magic and began lifting Spike into the air, only to have Twilight pull him back to the floor. The unicorn refused to loosen her grip, keeping Spike locked in her forelegs.

“Don’t worry my faithful student, Spike will be fine.” Twilight didn’t reply, so the princess continued. “Once we’re back at the castle, I promise to treat you both immediately.”

Twilight gave no sign of even hearing Celestia’s words. She only rocked Spike back and forth, quietly begging him to awaken.

The princess bit her lip. They were both in terrible shape; she needed to get them out of here, now.

Levitating them both safely onto her back, she motioned a guard over. “Return to the castle at once. Summon a doctor, any that you can reach and have them immediately sent to my chambers. Tell them that the matter is most urgent.”

The pegasus nodded and headed out the door. With a sigh, Celestia turned back to her other guards. The ponies stood on either side of the half-conscious stallion, their bodies poised for action.

“I am taking my students back to the castle. Aside from the doctors, I will accept no interruptions until I am sure they are well.” Her eyes flicked to the pegasus, and she frowned.

Take him away,” she ordered. “Dress his wounds, but make no arrest or questioning until I have spoken with him myself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a final glance at her passengers, Celestia moved towards the door. She spread her wings and prepared to take flight when a voice rang out from inside.

“WAIT!”

Spike fought to stay awake. He could hear nothing but a shrill ringing in his ears and the thrum of blood pounding in his skull. He tried to lift his head, but his neck buckled under the weight.

He looked around, but the world was clouded and shadowed. There was movement; shapes approached on either side, and he could see a radiant white blur in the distance ahead.

He felt bile rise in his throat, choked it back, and tried to will his eyes to focus. The seconds ticked by, and the world gradually slid back into clarity.

Members of the royal guard surrounded him, their posture tense and wary. He met one of their eyes, and was shocked by the cold disdain he saw within. They were looking at him like he was some kind of criminal, or monster. He averted his eyes from that stare, and what he saw made his heart sink.

Princess Celestia was standing over Twilight, who in turn was cradling the broken body of his younger self. It made him sick to see the blood, the bruises, the tears, and know that he was responsible for it all. He wanted to apologize, to rush over and beg for forgiveness, but it felt like his body had turned to stone, and he could barely raise a hoof.

Dropping his head to the floor, he wished for this nightmare to end.

“I am taking my students back to the castle. Aside from the doctors, I will accept no interruptions until I am sure they are well.”

He raised his head wearily at the sound of the alicorn’s voice. Celestia was speaking to the guards, but her scornful gaze was focused squarely upon him.

“Take him away. Dress his wounds, but make no arrest or questioning until I have spoken with him myself.”

The guards assented, and the princess turned back to the door. A sense of desperation filled the pegasus as she prepared to depart. This might be his last, his only chance to make things right! If he could somehow convince Celestia of who he was, then maybe she would know what had happened! Maybe she could somehow fix things! He knew that it was a poor gamble after everything that had happened, but he had to try.

Pushing himself up on his forelegs, he gulped in a breath and yelled. “WAIT!”

Celestia turned around with a start, surprise visible on her face. When she noticed who spoke, the scowl returned.

“Cele… Princess,” Spike said weakly. “Please, don’t go. I need-”

“I will deal with you soon enough,” the alicorn nearly snarled. “But at the moment, I have much more important matters to attend.” She turned back to the door.

Spike tried to stand, but a sharp bolt of pain shot through his hind-legs and he collapsed to the floor. They must have been broken when she threw him.

The guards moved to his side, each of them lifting a foreleg and draping it over their shoulders.

“Let’s get him out of here,” one said. “After what he did, I’ll feel a lot better when we get him into a cell.”

A cell…

Spike knew what that meant. He was going to be imprisoned, most likely punished further. His chances of convincing Twilight or Celestia to help him would be effectively zero.

With no better option, he struck out. Yanking his foreleg away, he kneed the guard in the chin, sending the pony stumbling back with a cry of pain. Unprepared to bare the stallion’s weight alone, the second guard fell, dragging Spike to the floor.

Momentarily freed, Spike began dragging himself across the floor with his forelegs, hoping to reach Celestia before she departed. The princess had turned back at her guard’s shouts, and a gasp escaped her lips as she saw Spike inching closer.

“Please… hear me out…”

Her eyes narrowed, and a brilliant light grew around her horn. Her wings lifted protectively around the dragon and pony on her back, and he could see that she would not hesitate if she deemed him a threat.

He didn’t care. He knew she could make everything better if she just believed him. She had to know who he was, she just had to!

He dragged himself closer, ignoring the pain as the nerves in his legs screamed.

“Stay back. You have done enough harm already,” she said. “I will not allow you to do more.”

“…Didn’t… mean to,” he choked out. “Know… what it looks like. Must… seem impossible.”

He could hear hoofsteps behind him, had to be the guards. He had no time left.

“Don’t know how, but it’s me, I swear it is,” he tried to pull himself forwards, but felt his right leg give out, and he slumped onto the floor.

He looked up into Celestia’s eyes. “I know… I look like a pony… but I’m really-”

There was a flash of motion to his right, and then a white hoof smashed into his face hard enough to knock him onto his side. There was a brief moment of pain, but then he was falling into a cool and welcoming darkness.

Celestia’s face faded from his vision, and then a sound echoed up from the black. It was a deep amused chuckle, one that seemed familiar, a voice that he knew but couldn’t place.

Two golden eyes flared in the depths, and Spike knew no more.

And that's it for chapter two! Hope everyone enjoys.

3. Intensive Care

Chapter 3- Intensive Care

Never such innocence,
Never before or since,
As changed itself to past
Without a word

Philip Larkin- MCMXIV

“So, I think that went rather well. Don’t you?”

“IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE?”

“Come now, why so upset? We both knew that his arrival would be turbulent…”

“Turbulent? You call that turbulent?! Did you see what happened? What they did to him?!”

“Of course I did. And we should be relieved. Can you imagine all the ways things could have gone worse? One of them dead, all of them dead? Trust me, a little roughhousing and a night or two in the dungeons is certainly no cause for alarm.”

“You’re insane, and I won’t stand by and watch you torture Spike like this. I’m going to down there to-”

“What you’re going to do, girl, is stay RIGHT THERE.”

“Don’t you dare try to order me around. I’m going, and you can’t stop me.”

“Is that so?”

When the guard’s hoof slammed into his head, Spike should have gone unconscious. In all honesty, he wished that he had. Instead, he felt his upper body drop lifelessly to the floor, felt the cold jolt of his cheek against the stone. His vision swam in and out of focus, and he could feel blood sticking to the matted fur on his scalp where a huge lump was already forming.

He thought he heard voices, but the roaring in his ears drowned them out. It reminded him of when the girls would have their slumber parties, and he would shove a pillow over his head to try and muffle their chatter.

He wanted this to be a nightmare. He wished and prayed that when he opened his eyes, he would be back in Ponyville, in the familiar warmth of the library tree, where the morning sunlight would be shining into the room he and Twilight shared.

He would be a dragon again. Safe and sound except for perhaps a bump on the head where he had fallen out of his basket.

Twilight would be there too. Wide awake and reviewing the morning’s checklist; there would be no sign of the bruise he had made on her cheek or the cuts on her forelegs. She would smile and wish him good morning, and her eyes would be free of the fear and the grief that he had so monstrously instilled.

Spike smiled to himself. Yes, he was quite ready to be rid of this terrible dream. He tried to relax and rouse himself from sleep.

Pain ripped through his hind legs, and the brief comfort was lost. He could feel his forelegs gripped, lifted, and finally rested against the necks and shoulders of the guards. They once again headed for the door, half-carrying and half-dragging their prisoner along.

The pain increased as his broken legs scraped across the floor. The soothing balm of unconsciousness was drifting away now, propelled by the white-hot spikes of agony that seemed to be spreading up his flanks, his back, and his chest like jagged waves.

He wanted to speak, to beg the guards to fully carry him, or to simply leave him in the street until Celestia returned for his punishment. So great was his desperation that he might have even asked them to simply put him out of his misery then and there, but his jaws were clamped shut as one leg banged against the riser of a stair, and all that passed his lips was a feeble gasp.

He breathed in what little air he could, fighting his nausea until the pain eased back to its previous, excruciating level. With his eyes set on the ground, he could see that they were traveling down a wide and maintained walkway. Dimly, he realized that they were heading further into Canterlot.

Curiosity temporarily overtook pain, and Spike wondered why they would be taking him into the city. Didn’t Celestia want him thrown into the dungeons by now? He tried to lift his head, to voice his question or at least see where they were going. His chin barely moved an inch before his head fell limp. It felt like there was a gigantic weight on his neck, as if he’d suddenly been fitted with Big Macintosh’s yoke. It took a few more tries before he noticed that his struggles were doing nothing but aggravating his pounding headache, and so he dropped his head and simply watched as the walkway twisted and turned.

There came the swish of an opening door, and a bright light shone from above. Spike blinked. Where had this clean, tiled floor suddenly come from? And what was that faint, medicinal scent in the air?

“Excuse me,” one of the guards called, and Spike winced as every one seemed to rebound in his aching skull. “We’ve got a hurt stallion over here!”

There was a sudden clamor of hoofsteps from down the hall, and a heavenly image of splendor appeared. As his eyes took in the white-coated nurse before him, an almost giddy feeling of relief welled up inside him. A nurse… he was in a hospital!

The guards were speaking to the mare. Something about impact injuries, wing damage and a request for a single occupancy room. Spike paid no attention. All other thoughts were pushed to the side by an irrational hope that release, or at least relief from his pain was fast approaching.

The nurse leaned in closer, and Spike felt his heart flutter in anticipation.

“What about these puncture wounds,” she asked, and Spike groaned disappointedly.

One of the guards chuckled. “Dragon claws.”

“Dragon?” The nurse let out a surprised gasp, then stepped back. “Well, I suppose that would account for the symmetrical number and spread of…”

Spike was trying not to scream. It all hurt so bad, and here they were gawking at his body and chatting about it! He wanted it to stop; he would have done anything for that mare to just shut up and hit him with the strongest anesthetic spell that she had.

“There’s a room straight down the hall, third door to the right,” she said, pointing a hoof for direction. “Your friend can rest there. I’ll fetch the doctor immediately.”

She galloped down the hall, and Spike gave a hoarse whimper, futilely trying to call her back.

They began dragging him again, and the previous reprieve seemed to make it all the more agonizing. As they flung open the door and pulled him into the room, he almost broke into tears at the welcome sight of the hospital bed.

But then his blood ran cold as one of the guards slid a hoof beneath each of his elbows and said, “Okay, now get his hind legs.”

A broken, anguished cry burst from his lips when his broken legs were grasped and lifted from the ground. He fought against their hold, not caring that it only made the pain worse. He spit and screamed and cursed, desperate to escape as the guards struggled to lift him high enough to toss onto the bed. When they finally dropped him, Spike would have been relieved.

Except that he landed on his side.

Directly on top of his broken wing.

Spike’s body went rigid, a flash of white temporarily washing out his vision. His body seemed to curl inward on itself, and with a frantic burst of adrenaline he rolled onto his uninjured side and retched over the side of the bed.

He leant over the edge of the mattress for what seemed like hours, gagging and choking until his throat was raw and his lungs burned for want of air. Finally, his dry-heaves winded down, and he simply let his head hang off the bed. He was too tired to care anymore.

A pair of hooves moved into view, and then he felt one of the guards take his head in a hoof and slowly, almost gently push him back onto the mattress. Spike opened his mouth, to say… what? An apology? A curse? A thank-you? Regardless, nothing came out but a whispery moan. The guard gave no sign of hearing. Instead, he lifted Spike’s forelegs and crossed them against the iron headboard. The jingling of something metallic came from his left; the other guard was leaning over him now. Spike felt the cool touch of metal encircling his hooves, and then with a pair of clicks the bands locked around them.

The guards stepped away. He tried to look back and see what they had done, but his hooves were too far behind his head. He tried to pull his legs back. Something was holding them in place.

There was a sudden clatter as an object hit the floor, followed by a furious shout. “What is the meaning of this?”

The yell jolted Spike out of his musings. The assistant in him wanted to snap to attention, as the question had been phrased in similar tone and subject to Twilight when she discovered an improperly shelved book. Unfortunately, his body was in no condition to oblige, so he settled with simply rolling his head in the voice’s direction.

Standing in the doorway was a doctor in a white lab-coat, a stethoscope around his neck. A clipboard lay at his hooves, evidently dropped at the time of his outburst. Standing behind him was the nurse from before, a look of horror on her face.

The doctor stomped into the room, glaring full-force at the two guards. “This is outrageous! I will not allow such inequine treatment of my patients! I want those shackles removed immediately!”

“I can assure you, sir, that the restraints are for his own protection as well as your own…” the guard began. A deepening scowl from the doctor, however, made it clear that he was in no mood to be patronized.

The earth pony forced a smile and turned back to the nurse. “We should begin splinting the legs immediately. Would you mind fetching the materials as well as bandages for his wing and neck?”

The mare nodded and exited the room. The doctor waited until her hoof-falls had faded before snapping his head back to the guards.

“Now you listen here,” he hissed. “I don’t know whose authority you are acting upon, or what makes you think that this treatment is necessary.”

He waved a hoof at Spike. “But this is barbaric! Whatever threat you think he could pose with those injuries is irrelevant. Unchain him. NOW.”

One of the guards stepped forwards, no trace of humor on his face. “The sentimentality is touching, but the chains are staying on.” Before the doctor could protest, he continued. “As for authority, it was the princess herself who ordered that he be restrained. Whether or not you believe it, doctor, this pony is a dangerous criminal. He already broke into a local residence and viciously attacked two citizens before he could be restrained. He also lashed out against one of the guards and even attempted to attack her majesty before he could be captured.”

The doctor’s eyes widened, any further arguments dying on his lips.

“Now then,” the guard said. “If the restraints are too great of an issue for you to overcome, we’ll simply find another doctor. But let me be clear on this, we are not letting him loose.”

He gave Spike a troubled glance and sighed.

“No, I’ll do it. However, he is still my patient, and his well-being is my current priority. Therefore, I would request that you both remain outside the room during the diagnosis and treatment.”

The guard that Spike had struck frowned and shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m not letting that-”

His companion raised a hoof. “Very well,” the guard said. “But inform us immediately if he displays any hostile behavior.”

Both pegasi stepped into the hall, moving aside to let the nurse re-enter. Before the door closed, one of the guards poked his head back in.

“Also, the princess will arrive shortly to question him. Mild anesthetics only, he needs to remain awake and lucid.”

Hearing that, Spike began to struggle. He didn’t want to stay conscious. He didn’t want to face the princess, to see her countenance marred by anger and hatred and disgust, knowing all the while that it directed at him.

The nurse leaned over him, her horn beginning to glow. He began to thrash harder, pulling helplessly against his shackles.

“Please…” he whispered.

Misunderstanding, she smiled. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”

The magic enveloped him, and Spike wept tears of frustration as the pain began to ebb away. Even after everything that had happened, they were keeping him awake, keeping him trapped in this nightmare. It wasn’t fair! Dammit, it wasn’t right!

Shining Armor stood motionless before the doors of the castle. His body was as straight as a ramrod, his head high and his legs tense and ready for action. To any observer, he was the perfect picture of military discipline and alert readiness.

Inwardly, however, he was bored out of his skull. He had always hated guard duty, but he reserved a particular disdain for night duty. Not only was it a highly solitary, and therefore lonely endeavor, but nothing exciting EVER happened at this goddess-forsaken hour. No old mares to help cross the street, no delinquent colts to reprimand, not a single thing. A proud captain of the royal guard? Ha! He felt more like an overdressed lawn ornament.

But no matter how much he wanted to stumble his way back to the barracks and sleep, he devoutly stayed at his post. After all, he only had another ten minutes before he was relieved… not to mention that Grand… that is, General Cascade would personally turn him into a gelding if he ended up shirking his duties.

He shuddered and quickly put the thought out of his mind. Best not to even consider the possibility. Just have to stand here and get it over with. Can’t… fall… asleep…

His head was just starting to droop when a white shape came hurtling up the stairs and right towards him! In his fatigued confusion, he mistook it as a hostile ghost, and let out a high-pitched, yet still masculine shriek while throwing his hoof up in defense.

“Sir?”

He warily opened his eyes. Hovering before him was an obviously fatigued pegasus guard, the pony’s hoof raised in salute. Noticing his own raised foreleg, Shining Armor dropped the unintentional salute and cleared his throat.

“Eh heh, heh, at ease soldier,” he mumbled in embarrassment. “Now then, care to explain where you’re off to in such a hurry,” he inquired.

“…Apologies… sir,” the guard said between breaths. “Royal… business… urgent…”

That piqued his interest. A matter concerning the royal family that had not been brought to his attention? Either something had come up so unexpectedly that Celestia had no time to inform him… or she wanted him kept unaware of the situation. Possibly both.

“Status report,” he said.

The pegasus hesitated. “Sir, I don’t… time is of…”

Shining Armor put every ounce of authority he possessed into his words. “That is an order, soldier.”

“Yes sir! At approximately 0300, the princess was notified of an intrusion/assault on the residence of one of her students. We investigated, and the princess herself subdued the assailant.” The pony was speaking rapidly, apparently in a hurry to proceed. Shining Armor noticed, though, that a film of sweat had broken on the guard’s forehead. He was nervous about something.

“However, both of the students were injured before our arrival. I was dispatched to summon the castle doctors and prepare her majesty’s quarters for their arrival. A mission that I have yet to complete.”

With a final nod the pegasus gave a flap of his wings and sped off towards the castle. Or at least he would have, if he had not been magically yanked back by a very suspicious unicorn.

“You haven’t been dismissed, private,” Shining Armor said with a growl. “Now tell me the names of the students that were attacked.”

The pegasus gulped. “But… but sir! The princess, she specifically ordered that there be no-”

“WHO WAS IT,” Shining Armor yelled, already knowing and dreading the answer.

“Twi… Twilight Sparkle,” The guard admitted. “It, it was her and Spike!”

Shining Armor was already galloping down the steps like a pony possessed, unknowingly dragging the guard behind him before his concentration broke and he dropped the pegasus to the ground. He gave no thought to the desertion of his post, no thought to his duties and responsibilities. His mind was whirling, wondering what could have happened. The guard had mentioned an assault… but what kind?

So many things might have… could they… had they…

He spurred himself faster, his legs keeping pace with the thoughts racing through his head. Nopony in Equestria ran as quickly as Shining Armor that night, driven by worry and fright that would not lessen until he knew they were both safe and sound.

His fears only increased when he threw open their door, only to be met with a silent, empty house.

Shining Armor slumped against the doorframe, his breathing harsh and ragged. He had been so worried about what he might find, but somehow this was even worse. Where were they? What had happened?

While he struggled for breath, his eyes scanned over the room. It was a disaster. Furniture was lying in pieces, a window was shattered, objects were scattered all over the floor.

And the blood…

The sight of that crimson liquid speckling the floor was too much to take. Another surge of adrenaline cut through the fatigue, and Shining Armor pulled in one last gulp of breath before galloping back into the night. He had to find them!

It was fortunate that the guard had divulged Celestia’s plan for the two, otherwise he might very well have turned the entire city upside-down in his single-minded pursuit. As luck would have it, he was halfway to the Canterlot General Hospital when he remembered that they were being taken to the castle. Reversing course, he sped back to where this entire mishap had begun. Blowing straight through the gates, he rushed into the castle. Around corners, up staircases, down corridors, until at last the monarch’s chambers came into view. Ignoring the startled protests of the guards, he crashed through the doors and into the bedroom.

Celestia turned to him with an angry gaze, only for her expression to soften as she recognized this unexpected interruption. Shining Armor barely noticed her approach. His eyes were riveted to the figures in the room’s center.

At first, it was difficult to even see the purple unicorn and dragon, as several ponies were milling around them, speaking to one-another in hushed tones. Fighting against the unease building in his stomach, Shining Armor stepped forward for a better look.

Twilight lay curled up on Celestia’s bed, her legs wrapped protectively around Spike’s unconscious body. A bandage covered one of her cheeks, and more were wrapped over the hooves of her forelegs. Her face was wet with tears.

Spike, on the other hoof, looked much worse for the wear. The baby dragon’s scalp was carefully bandaged, and one of the unicorn doctors was levitating a pack of ice against his head. Another bandage was tightly wound over the dragon’s leg, and in the center was a deep, red stain showing that the bleeding had not yet stopped.

A unicorn mare stepped up to Twilight. “Miss Sparkle,” she said. “Please, you need to let go of Spike now. We still have to treat his arm.”

Twilight whimpered and drew back, pulling Spike firmly against her.

The mare persisted. “Miss Sparkle, please. His arm is broken, we need to…”

“She’s been like this the entire time,” Celestia said from his side. He looked away from his sister and into Celestia’s sorrowful eyes. “She won’t speak, won’t acknowledge anypony, won’t even let go of Spike for a moment. They’ve had to treat them both while she holds him.”

Shining Armor had no idea how to respond. His own mind seemed to have gone blank at the sight of his sister in such a state. Celestia nudged him forward. “Perhaps another familiar face will be of help.”

He wasn’t so sure. From what he could see, he didn’t know if ANYTHING would be of much help right now. A familiar face might have helped when somebody was mildly traumatized, but right now Twilight looked completely shell-shocked! But this was still his little sister, and she needed him.

Hesitantly, he inched over to the group, then slowly reached out and rested a hoof against Twilight’s shoulder. The unicorn flinched at the contact, but eventually lifted her gaze.

“Hey Twiley,” he said as softly as he could.

Her face lit up in recognition, and the violet mare quickly moved across the bed and into his embrace. Shining Armor pulled them both against his chest, filled with relief that they were safe, though not unscathed. He felt Twilight’s body shake as she broke into fresh sobs.

“I… I was so scared!” She nuzzled deeper into his fur, and he heard Spike moan as the dragon’s arm was pressed against him.

“Shh, shh, shh, don’t worry,” he said. “Everything’s alright now. You’re safe. I’m here for you, and so is the princess. Nothing’s gonna happen.” He rubbed his hoof over Twilight’s back, comforting the mare until her sobs tapered away. When he figured that she was as calm as she was going to get, he lifted her chin up towards his face.

“Hey kiddo, there’s something I need you to do for me. Understand?” She bit her lip, but finally gave a timid nod.

“I need you to let go of Spike, okay?”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and she tried scooting back and away from her brother. He pulled her back in as gently as he could.

“He needs help, Twiley. His arm still needs treatment. You want to make sure he gets healed, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she insisted. “But Spike needs me! If they take him away, I can’t… I…”

“Hey now, they’re not taking him anywhere. They just need to fix his arm, and they’ll give him right back. I promise.” He threw the doctor a very pointed look, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course! We wouldn’t dream of separating you two. In fact, we’ll stay right here where you can see us, so you can make sure he’s safe. Is that alright?”

Twilight nodded, and slowly opened her forelegs as a magical surrounded Spike and lifted him free of her embrace. Her breath hitching, Twilight hugged herself tightly even as Shining Armor pulled her closer. Together, they watched as Spike’s arm was set and splinted, the older sibling giving constant whispers of reassurance to the younger. But the more Twilight calmed down, the more agitated Shining Armor became.

He tried to understand how this could have happened. How somepony could just break into their house in the middle of the night and hurt them like this. They didn’t deserve that. Unseen to Twilight, his expression fell into a tense scowl as agitation gave way to anger.

Breaking the hug, he stepped off the bed and moved over to Celestia with slow, deliberate steps. They watched in silence as the doctors finished their work and handed Spike over to Twilight, who quickly scooped the dragon up and settled back down. The dragon’s presence seemed to set her at ease, and the violet unicorn’s eyes drooped shut as sleep began to overtake her.

The various doctors paid their respects to the princess and quietly exited the room. Satisfied with their privacy, Shining Armor turned to his ruler.

“Tell me what happened.”

Celestia seemed unsurprised by his insubordinate demand. Giving a sad smile, she opened her mouth to explain. She paused, however, when another sound came from the bed.

Twilight was singing.

“…shine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey.”

The song brought tears to her eyes. She had used it as a lullaby for Spike when he was still a hatchling. Whether it was the words or the rhythm, it had never failed to bring a smile to the dragon’s face as he drifted off to sleep. After Spike had moved in with Twilight, she had taught it to the unicorn to help ease Spike’s homesickness for the castle.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Now, Twilight was singing it to comfort herself.

She wanted to hold them close, to shelter and protect them, to bring back the youthful innocence that this night had doubtlessly shattered.

But she could feel Shining Armor’s eyes boring into her, could sense the anger and the frustration and helplessness that he was feeling. She could only imagine how difficult this was for him. These might be her subjects, but they were also his family.

He was entitled to an explanation.

“It was just before three o’clock,” she recalled. “When I was awoken by one of Spike’s letters arriving. I didn’t think much of it, until I noticed a few oddities in the writing.”

“What sort of oddities,” he asked.

“Sloppiness. Barely legible handwriting. It had the look of a message written in haste, if not outright panic.”

“But what did it say?”

“That… there was a strange pegasus in the house. That he seemed dangerous and out of control. That they needed help.”

She looked over at Shining Armor, half-expecting another question. The unicorn remained silent, his gaze lowered and troubled.

“From there, my guards and I immediately flew over to investigate. We apprehended the stallion and brought Spike and Twilight here for treatment. You know the rest.”

The unicorn swallowed, as if trying to bolster his resolve. “Not everything,” he muttered. “Tell me how they were injured.”

Celestia hesitated at this. She was reluctant to look back on those moments, still fresh and painful in her mind. Sitting down beside the bed, she carefully draped a wing over the sleeping pair.

Struggling to hold back her tears, she described everything. The sight of Twilight pinned to the floor, her cheek bruised and her legs chafed. She mentioned the puncture wounds lining the intruder’s neck, and explained her theory of Spike’s gallant but failed rescue attempt that resulted in his myriad wounds.

By the time the alicorn finished her tale, Shining Armor was livid. He stomped a hoof against the ground, trying and failing to rein in his emotions.

‘Discipline and control,’ he repeated in his head. ‘Discipline and control. Keep calm. Stay in control…’

When he was certain that his voice was even and his breathing steady, he gave Celestia a salute and backed towards the door.

“Unless your majesty requires anything further, I will retire for the night.”

Celestia looked at him in bewilderment, shocked that he would return to the barracks rather then choosing to remain at his sister’s side.

“Certainly. I can only imagine how difficult has been for you. By all means, rest and set aside your worries. I shall remain here to watch over them both.”

Shining Armor nodded and opened the door. Before he stepped out, he asked one final question.

“The stallion, has he already been imprisoned?”

Celestia shook her head. “I have ordered that he be placed, under guard, at the hospital so that his wounds may be treated. Once he…”

But Shining Armor had already left the room, a dark smile on his face.

And that's chapter three. Took a bit longer then I expected, mostly due to a complete overhaul and directional change in the story itself. As a result, things have gotten a bit darker then what I'd originally planned, but I'm interested to see where things end up.

Didn't give this one as thorough of a proofreading as I usually do, so if anyone spots any errors or whatnot that should be corrected, let me know and I'll get on it.

Hope everyone enjoys!

1. Somewhere in Time

Somewhere in Time

They say that life's a carousel

Spinning fast, you've got to ride it well…

…And they'll tell you black is really white

The moon is just the sun at night

Dio- Heaven and Hell

“It’s time. Are you ready to go?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know if he’s ready for this.”

“Do you think anyone could be? It’s only the fate of the world at stake.”

“Exactly! What if he can’t fix things? What if nothing changes?”

“Look at it this way. If he tries and fails, the universe gets destroyed. If we do nothing, the universe gets destroyed. It’s not as though he can make things any worse than they’ll already become.”

“Thanks. That wasn’t at all reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. With how long we’ve known one another, do you really think I would make light of a situation like this?”

“Point taken.”

“Now then, are you ready?”

“Why bother asking? It’s not like we have a choice.”

“Don’t be foolish. There’s always a choice. We chose him to set things right, and he’ll have to choose whether or not to accept that burden. You can be as fatalistic as you like, it doesn’t change the facts.”

“………”

“So again, are you ready?”

“Can I make a request first?”

“Anything.”

“Can you take all this away from him? Make him forget everything since he first met me? I… I don’t want him to remember what they did.”

“Very well.”

“Then do it.”

It was a bright, cold evening in Ponyville. The town was still and quiet; no lights burned in the windows, no movement disturbed the streets. Only the rhythmic clicks of the town’s clock tower could be heard.

There was a loud *clunk* as the hour and minute hands shifted. Midnight. The muffled sound of gears and cogs came from the tower, and then the clock began to chime.

Twelve echoing rings sounded out in the night, and then silence again covered the Ponyville square. The minutes passed by one after another.

And then the clock began to chime again.

One…

Two…

Three…

And then the chimes ceased.

For the next several minutes, anypony looking at the clock tower would have thought nothing was amiss. The second hand continued its slow, clockwise journey, the minute hand gradually following. Perhaps some mechanical error had caused the bell’s repeat performance?

And then the minute hand jumped backwards.

When the hand struck midnight, the bell started to ring once more. This time, it had barely finished the second chime before the minute hand leapt back again. The ringing ceased; the hands did not. Instead, they continued to shift and jump in the opposite direction.

11:45

10:37

9:15

Clocks all over the world were reversing direction, ticking backwards in complete defiance of logic and sense. Their speed increased, the hands moving faster and faster until their movement blurred together with a droning buzz. Overhead, the moon traveled eastwards across the sky, its phases blurring between crescent, gibbous and full.

Morning sunlight streamed in through the window, disrupting the slumber of the young dragon within. Spike grumbled incoherently and rolled out of his bed, shooting a dirty look at the sun before climbing to his feet. His sleep-addled mind completely missed the fact that he’d been awakened by a rising sun through a westward window.

A few quick hops took him from the bedroom to the staircase, and it was as he descended the last step to the foyer that he realized things were amiss.

The entire library collection was out of place. Not simply scattered about the floor like during one of Twilight’s research sessions, no, that wouldn’t have been unusual in the least. Instead, his once meticulously tidied shelves were completely rearranged! Reference works had invaded Juvenile Fiction! Atlases and maps replaced the biographies! Nonfiction had been completely relocated to one of the side rooms!

Spike’s jaw nearly hit the floor. A part of his mind bemoaned the horrific amount of re-shelving that awaited him in the near future, but there was something else that bothered him more. Twilight had gone to bed before him the previous the night. No matter how early she had awoken, it would be impossible for her to so quickly rearrange their collection in so little a time. Not only that, but he knew that Twilight would never arrange books in such a hectic order.

Something was very wrong.

“Twilight! Twi, where are you?” Spike called frantically as he searched their home. Things were getting stranger by the minute.

He stepped into the basement to find that Twilight’s laboratory equipment was gone, replaced by hundreds of unopened boxes. The room was thick with dust and cobwebs, looking as though it hadn’t been entered in years.

“Wha… what’s going on,” he asked with a nervous glance around the room. “How long was I asleep?” Dashing back up the stairs, he searched the rest of the library.

The kitchen was the same. Most of their dishes and utensils were gone. The fridge was nearly empty. Twilight’s prized tea kettle and assortment of tea had vanished, replaced by a metal percolator and a jar of coffee grounds; even the bowl of gems he had left on the table was nowhere to be found.

There was a rush of displaced air, and he thought he heard scraping sounds from above. Running back into the foyer, Spike saw that everything had changed. Many of the shelves were now empty, the staircase to the second level had vanished, and even the bedroom itself was gone, replaced by a solid wall of wood.

Spike’s worry was quickly developing into fright. What was happening to their house? Where was Twilight? WHAT WAS HAPPENING!?

Racing for the exit, Spike threw open the door and leapt outside. He didn’t know if the house was haunted or magically rearranging itself, but he wasn’t going to stay and find out!

Once he was safely out in the street, the young dragon dropped to his knees to catch his breath. Now he needed to find Twilight; he just hoped she was safe. Maybe one of their other friends had-

The whole world turned dark. It was if somepony had blown out a candle, assuming that said candle was actually the sun. The bright morning sky instantly shifted to black, a waning crescent moon looming coldly overhead.

Night taking over the day? But they’d defeated Nightmare Moon, hadn’t they? Running as fast as his legs could take him, Spike traversed the darkened streets and made his way to Sugarcube Corner. He’d meet up with Pinkie Pie first. He doubted that she’d be fazed by all the strange occurrences. Heck, she might not even have noticed.

He was only a few steps from the building when the sun reappeared in the sky. The sudden increase in light was blinding, and Spike tripped over his own feet and rolled to a stop in the dirt.

After several seconds of allowing his eyes to adjust, he picked himself up and turned back to the bakery. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Sugarcube Corner was condemned. The paint was faded and peeling, boards were nailed over the windows and empty doorway, and gaping holes marred the roof and walls. It almost looked as if it had been abandoned and left to rot decades ago.

Swallowing his fear, Spike stepped up to a window and climbed onto the sill for a peek. Much like he expected, the interior was in the same pitiable shape. Dust covered the floors, roof beams were broken and decayed, and it didn’t look like anypony had set hoof inside for-

The sun went out a second time, startling him into falling off of the sill. Massaging his aching rump, Spike set off for the town square, failing to notice that the bakery had returned to its normal appearance in the few seconds his back was turned. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was too scared to even think straight by this point. He just wanted to find a friendly face, or even a familiar one, before something worse happened. He was rounding the last corner when the sun flared up once again.

If he wasn’t so terrified, he’d be getting more than a little annoyed with the way that Celestia and Luna seemed to be alternating the time of day. Once again, he could only wait for his eyes to adjust. And once again, nothing could have prepared him for the sight.

All around him, Ponyville was in chaos. Buildings seemed to shift and change before his very eyes. On one side, Quills and Sofas looked to be in the early stages of construction, ringed with scaffolding and surrounded by piles of lumber and tools. On another, Cheerilee’s schoolhouse was sagging inward, its supports weakened and on the verge of collapse. In the span of only a few seconds, Quills and Sofas was completed and open for business, and the schoolhouse had collapsed into a pile of rubble.

Different sections of town seemed to be moving backwards or forwards in time. The library tree was little more than a sapling, but its trunk was growing rapidly, branches and limbs shooting out and into the sky. One minute the town would be decorated for Nightmare Night, the next it would be for Hearth-warming’s Eve.

By now, Spike had decided that either he had completely snapped, or he was having the most bizarre dream of his life. Either way, it gave him a welcome feeling of relief to believe that nothing he witnessed was real, and his fears melted away. Deciding that he might as well enjoy the pandemonium while it lasted, he set out into the town. Or at least, he would have, if one particular building hadn’t caught his complete attention.

It was a small, modest home less than a block from the library tree. All in all, it was remarkably ordinary, built in the usual design with a normal coating of brown paint and a typical amount of furnishings on the walls and roof. Nothing special about it whatsoever… except perhaps that it seemed to be immune to the temporal distortions wreaking havoc through the rest of the town.

Moving closer, Spike began to hear voices emanating from within. Temporarily forgetting that this was all most likely a dream, he rushed to a window and pulled himself up for a look.

The very first word that came to his mind was clean. The entire room was spotless, from the floors to the ceiling. The white walls and the pile of medical equipment on the table made him think that the house might be some part of the Ponyville Clinic, maybe as outpatient housing. Despite the sunlight filtering in through the windows, the majority of the room was deeply in shadows. Really, the only clear object he could see was the lone bed and the pegasus pony laying in it.

Twilight could have found several adjectives to describe the stallion. Decrepit, perhaps, or maybe wizened. Aged, if she was feeling particularly blunt. To Spike, however, the only word that crossed his mind was mummified.

The stallion’s coat was threadbare and wrinkled, the folds of skin bunched together like a crumpled jacket, his legs so frail and withered that he could barely lift them. Even his wings had shriveled away, feathers gone and the membrane stretched taut over the bones to give them a nearly skeletal appearance. His color had faded almost entirely, only the tiniest shade of orchid still gracing his coat. If Spike had to guess, he’d say it used to be some kind of blue or purple. The stallion’s mane was a pure and brilliant white.

Spike looked closer in amazement. For the longest time, he thought Granny Smith was the oldest pony in the world, but this guy looked like he could’ve read bedtime stories to the princesses! Just how he could still be alive in such a state, Spike had no idea.

The stallion’s eyes snapped open. Unlike the rest of him, those blazing jade irises were as bright and intense as stars.

Spike gasped and nearly fell over backwards. For the briefest of moments their eyes had met, and he felt sure that the pony had seen him, had recognized him.

“So, this is it.” A voice rang out from a corner. It had been so unexpected that Spike nearly lost his balance for a second time. The stallion, however, seemed to anticipate this, and bit back a snort when he looked over to the speaker. Spike followed his gaze, but found that the room was too dark for him to see the second occupant.

“I was wondering when you’d show up. Don’t you know it’s rude to keep an old colt waiting?” The stallion’s voice was brittle as an icicle.

An indignant ‘hmph’ came from the darkness. “All this time and your manners are as poor as ever. Would it kill you to show a bit of respect?”

The stallion grinned. “In my current condition, it just might! Gives me an excuse to be a grouch, you know.” This time he couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from his throat, only to have it shift into a series of coughs that wracked his weakened body.

A glass of water was thrust against his lips. Drinking greedily, he cast a grateful look to his friend.

“Thanks,” he croaked after the glass was levitated away.

“For the water, or for the joke at my expense?”

“Both.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Spike couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling the unseen pony’s eyes were looking over the stallion.

“You look terrible.”

This time, the pony managed to keep his mouth tightly shut. It was a good thing too. Spike could tell that the last thing he needed was to laugh himself into a heart attack.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be insulted,” he said. “Everypony has been so kind, so thoughtful, so supportive… it’s beginning to drive me insane. I don’t want their last memories of me to focus on some broken husk wasting away in bed. I don’t want them to act like I’m made of glass…”

The stallion’s head bowed down, and for a moment Spike could see something reaching out of the shadows. It almost looked like it was giving the pony a pat on the head… or maybe a noogie.

They were speaking more quietly now, and even when pressing his ear to the glass, Spike couldn’t hear another word. He was vaguely aware of a shape moving in the darkness, circling around the pony’s bed and drawing closer to the window. He squinted futilely, hoping to get at least an idea of what else was inside.

The pegasus looked up wearily. "Is it time?" There was no reply, but he nodded as though there had. "Alright. Good luck, and please, take care of him. You'll do that, won't you?"

More silence, but the pony smiled tiredly and eased himself back against the pillow, falling into a restful sleep.

The voice spoke up again, this time from right in front of the glass.

“Well then, we’d better be going.”

The window shattered into a cloud of glass shards, and Spike had a fraction of a second to see a rapidly approaching shape before something grasped hold of his windpipe. He gasped in pain as he was lifted bodily away from the sill and pulled into the darkened room. The air was thick and heavy, and an invisible wind spiraled around him.

He kicked and fought in the thing’s grip, but the pressure around his throat was ironclad. Spots were beginning to fill his vision, but he managed to get a clear look at its eyes before everything went black.

They were as brightly colored as the sun, reminding him of two pools of molten gold. For a moment he was lost in the warmth of those eyes, and then they were pulling him down, deeper and deeper into the gloom, until the pressure in his ears and the tightness in his throat robbed him of consciousness.

Spike awoke with a start, his mouth opening in a strangled gasp, the last traces of some horrible nightmare fading into his subconscious. For a time he could only lay there, drawing in huge, gulping breaths as he waited for his pulse to steady.

What had happened? He clenched his eyes shut, trying to grasp hold of the fleeting remnants of his dream. There were colors, he recalled. Bright, impossible hues that were almost blinding in their intensity. He remembered that something had been speaking to him. It had shouted something, and then there was a blinding flash of light and a great, crippling pain had spread throughout his body. Most striking of all were the eyes. They were golden and very clear, and they reminded him of the wolves that prowled through the Everfree Forest. But there was intelligence in these ones, an icy malevolence that seemed to pierce straight through to his core, already knowing his secrets and fears and dreams.

His eyes snapped open, and he was relieved by the darkened room around him. A quick glance to the window confirmed that the sky was pitch black, with moonlight streaming in through the windows and onto the landing above him. Something about the view seemed a bit off, but he was far too relieved to take notice. Just a dream. He was safe. Everything was okay.

He dropped his head, only to wince as it made contact with a cold, unforgiving floor. Well, that explained the soreness in his back. He must have fallen out of his basket during the nightmare. Rolling onto his side, he lifted an arm and began to grope around. He quickly found it, brushing against woven reed and a cotton blanket. But what froze him in his tracks was the sudden feeling of something warm and breathing. Something ALIVE.

He drew back as though he’d been scalded. The darkness of the room suddenly felt ominous, as though a monster was slumbering just inches from where he lay. He felt the sudden urge to call for Twilight, but instead he carefully reached forward once again. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear the breaths drawing in and out. Could actually see a vague outline of the creature curled up in his basket. He moved slowly, inching closer until he again made contact with its body.

‘Scales?’ He wondered what that could mean? Had Gummy somehow snuck into the library? That had to be it. Aside from himself, the minute alligator was the only other creature in Ponyville with such a thick, leathery hide.

Still, something didn’t feel right. Spike poked and prodded, confused as to why Gummy seemed to be larger than normal. He was just moving up towards the snout when the creature began to stir. He drew his arm back, throat clenched in anticipation as the silhouette sat up, arms stretching out to the side.

“Alright Twilight. I’m up already. You can stop poking me.”

No way. It just wasn’t possible. That voice, it was so similar to his own, only a touch deeper. He vaguely recalled Twilight lecturing him on the subject. Something about bone conduction and air conduction. That was what he was hearing now. It was his voice, but it wasn’t coming from his mouth.

The shape moved forward into a patch of moonlight, and Spike’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the purple scales, the green spines, and the emerald eyes locked with his own

He was looking directly into his own face

For a moment, the two dragons merely gaped at one another. It was just like looking into a mirror, except that the other Spike looked a bit smaller, or maybe younger. There was also the fact that they weren’t copying each other’s movements.

Spike stared down his younger counterpart, mind racing with questions. As far as he knew, he didn’t possess any siblings. Certainly not any identical twins that had unexpectedly popped in for a visit and usurped his basket. Maybe Twilight had been practicing some kind of copying or duplication spell? He certainly wouldn’t be surprised if the purple pony became carried away in her research and impulsively decided to test it on her number one guinea pi… assistant. His gaze flicked to the nearby bed and took note of the peaceful breathing underneath the blankets. For her to be sleeping voluntarily, it obviously wasn’t the fault of her magic, or she’d still be hunched over a book researching a counterspell. Unless, of course, the spell hadn’t taken immediate effect…

He looked back at himself, eyes narrowing in suspicion. This might be some kind of evil twin, infiltrating their world from a parallel dimension. If that was the case, it had already begun to switch places with him in some dastardly attempt to take over Ponyville! At least, that’s what evil trans-dimensional twins were always doing in the comic books.

A quick look at ‘Spike’s’ face derailed that possibility. After all, everypony knows that evil twins have to possess some manner of facial hair, typically a goatee to serve as a sign of their evilness. Failure to do so would result in a Code Eighteen violation and Mirror Spock hunting them down.

Deciding that he wasn’t getting anywhere with theoretical explanations, Spike decided that the best course of action was talking to himself. Adopting what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he tried to think of a safe way to break the ice.

“Um… hey there?”

The other dragon’s reaction was immediate. Spike’s eyes bulged, mouth dropping open as he tried to stammer out some words. Finally, the smaller dragon sucked in one large breath.

“Whoa, wait wait wait…” Spike whispered, reaching forwards to try and stop himself.

“AAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHmmmphggh-” Spike’s panicked scream was cut off as the older dragon tackled him to the floor and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Come on, shut up for a second!” Whatever was going on, the last thing they needed was for Twilight to wake up. Unfortunately, his counterpart didn’t appear to share this opinion. He thrashed and fought, digging his claws into Spike’s arms and chest. The older dragon winced as blood began to run down his arms. What was going on? His scales shouldn’t have been that easy to pierce.

“Damn it, calm down,” Spike hissed. The anger in his voice seemed to do the trick, as the younger dragon immediately stilled, though his eyes remained wide and fearful.

“Now listen,” he continued. “I know this seems strange, but I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m gonna take my hand away from your mouth, and you’re gonna-”

“Spike?” A soft, worried voice rang out from behind him. He cursed to himself, inwardly urging the unicorn to fall back asleep.

“Spike, I heard you scream. Did you have a nightmare?” Her voice was closer this time. She must already be out of bed. The smaller dragon immediately began shouting into his hand, and he pressed down harder to stifle the cries. It wasn’t working; for some reason he couldn’t move or bend his fingers, and muffled yells leaked out from around his hand.

“Spike, is that you? Are you alright?” Twilight’s voice was gaining a measure of fear, and before he could react, a soft glow came from behind him.

All at once, every candle in the room lit up.

“SPIKE!”

He knew that she’d scream the moment she laid eyes on them. He’d been expecting it, to be honest. Of course, he wasn’t prepared for her to be directly behind him. The force and volume of her shout ringing through his ears was enough to make him stumble dazedly away from the basket, only to fall to the ground in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs.

While he waited for his eardrums to settle down, he took in his now visible surroundings. It only took a moment for him to realize that they weren’t in the library at all. Instead of hoof-carved wood, the walls were sculpted out of white stone, the furniture gleaming and immaculate. A staircase behind him led to a second floor, dominated by a massive window overlooking… the palace?

What they hay were they doing in Canterlot?

“Spike,” he heard Twilight’s voice call out urgently. “Come over here right now.”

He moved to comply, only to have his legs give out and reunite him with the ground. Looking up, he watched the younger dragon scamper over to Twilight, and his innate racial possessiveness flared up in jealousy.

“That’s not your Spike!” He forced himself upright, ignoring the bizarre and unfamiliar feeling of his body. He took a step forwards, one arm lifted to point at his chest. “I’M your Spiiiiaaaaauugh!”

Lifting his arm had proven to be a poor decision. A sudden loss of balance sent him face-planting into the floor, eliciting a painful cry and muffled curses when his nose impacted the cold stone. Blinking away tears, Spike rolled over onto his back and rubbed a hoof over his aching face.

Wait…

He pulled it back and stared blankly at the appendage in question.

A hoof?

He looked over this new addition to his arm, or foreleg, as the case seemed to be. His individual claws were gone, replaced instead by a smooth, singular digit. From the coronet band upward, his leg was covered in soft, violet fur. Looking over the rest of his body, he found this to be a uniform change. Craning his neck backwards, he saw that his tail had changed from a single, reptilian appendage to a collection of long and thick green hair. Hesitantly, he moved a foreleg to his head and felt for his spines, only to send a section of emerald mane tumbling into his face.

Sputtering and pushing away the offending hair, he finally understood.

‘Oh. I’m a pony.’

Well, that certainly explained why he’d been having so much trouble standing up. It was only natural, he mused, falling into a Twilight-esque mindset. Attempting to move in a bipedal fashion was completely impractical for a quadruped. Obviously he was going to have to practice walking on all fours now… that he… was…

Realization finally hit, and the dam burst.

“AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

Just an intriguing though that sprung up in my mind the other day, wanted to see what I could make of it.

Hope everyone enjoys!