10

"What would he need you for?" Spike asked. "Doing chores?"

"No." Fluttershy hesitated. "Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. He gets angry really easily these days."

"I can tell."

"But he needs somepony to absorb it. Like a lightning rod." Fluttershy didn't show any difficulty telling this to Spike. "Every family needs one. His anger needs somewhere to go. That somewhere has to be either me..." She looked at Dusk again, meaningfully. "...or my son."

Spike understood; it was like Fluttershy to sacrifice her well-being to protect her son from harm. "But can't you just leave?" Spike asked. "You and Dusk? It would be a lot easier."

"We can't." Fluttershy let a tear fall from her eye. "We tried once. A few months ago. And Sandy found us."

"What did he do?"

"Daddy?" Dusk finally spoke up. "Daddy hurt Mommy, and he hurt me."

"He hurt you?" Spike repeated. "How?"

"He made me bleed. And he gave me bruises."

Now that Dusk was crying as well, it was probably a good idea to stop. He looked up at Fluttershy, who looked ready to answer anything else anyway. Instead of asking more about the abusive relationship, he told her, "Twilight and I saw Applejack in prison yesterday."

Fluttershy suddenly looked alarmed. "Sh-she didn't say why, did she?"

He was dangerously close to completely breaking her, especially since she was hurt the most during the incident. He had to lie to her for now. "No. I just wanted to let you know where she is."

"Okay." Fluttershy still seemed a little uncertain, but she bought it anyway. She gently pushed Spike away from the door. "You really should go now. I don't want him to hurt you."

Spike watched as Fluttershy quietly led her son inside the house. Sandstorm needs to get murdered or something.

-

Once they'd reached Pinkie's room, they sat down on her bed. There was a short silence before Pinkie asked, "Did she leave a note?"

Twilight nodded. "I don't have it."

"You don't need to have it." Pinkie lay down and rolled over on her back. "Applejack said once she had some kind of sickness. I forget what it was called. I think it begins with 'co.'"

Twilight thought for a moment. "Co-dependency?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"It makes sense," Twilight replied. She wiped her eyes dry. "She must've panicked once she saw Rainbow Dash's condition, because Rainbow was who she wanted to be. Had she visited Rainbow before?"

Pinkie shrugged. "I have. Thrice."

There was a short silence before Pinkie sat back up and glanced at Twilight. Her eyes were brimming with sadness.

"What's wrong?" Twilight asked.

"She didn't think I was real. She didn't think any of us were real."

Twilight opened her right wing and wrapped it around Pinkie. "She didn't think Spike and I were real either. We had to leave before she could end up hurting herself."

"We could help Fluttershy get out of her abusive relationship, and we could help Applejack get out of prison to see her sister. We could even help Rarity become less psychopathic." She rested her head against Twilight's body, looking away; Twilight noticed she'd started crying. "But we can't help Rainbow Dash no matter what."

It was true, what Scootaloo had written in her suicide note. Rainbow Dash was as good as dead.

-

A bit dropped on the concrete path. She didn't know where it had come from, but she gave in to the temptation and picked it up with her light blue telekinesis. It wasn't her fault. She was nearly broke at this point. And starving.

Rarity knew about how Pinkie Pie gave homeless ponies free food, but Rarity was never one of the recipients anymore. To be honest, she didn't want to be. She was afraid to encounter Pinkie or Applejack after the incident last year. She used to get her food by gambling, but because of her guilt, she'd stopped. She tended to get her food from anyone who happened to have extra. She didn't steal it like she had just done with the money. She would just share.

As she was thinking about this, Rarity stopped in her tracks. Sugarcube Corner was standing right in front of her.

Rarity had blackmailed Pinkie, and possibly traumatized her, last year. She was much too afraid to see her again. She quickly backed away, then turned around--and then she was face-to-face with Spike.

"Oh, um...hi," he greeted her awkwardly.

"Hi," Rarity replied anxiously. She kept walking, and gestured for the dragon to follow. He did, but tentatively.

Once Rarity had reached a more comfortable area, she sat down. "Were you looking for me?"

Spike nodded. "Why were you so eager to get away from the bakery?"

Think of an excuse. Think of one now. Why didn't you do it earlier?

But if Rarity had come up with an excuse in those few seconds, it would prove to be useless, as Spike added, "I think I actually know."

Wait. Maybe he's bluffing. "And why would that be?" Rarity asked in the least suspicious way possible.

Spike paused for a few seconds, briefly fooling Rarity into believing she was correct. But then he spoke up again. "Something bad happened last year, right? Something that got Applejack in prison?"

"Who told you this?" Rarity was genuinely curious. It was definitely either Fluttershy, Applejack or Pinkie Pie; they were the only other three ponies that knew. But Rarity had had the nerve to blackmail Pinkie, so she seemed the least likely.

Spike didn't answer. "Were you insane?"

Rarity had to take a moment to realize what exactly Spike was referring to.  Then she nodded. "Quite possibly. But I haven't been sent to the asylum. I was able to help myself." She looked away sadly. "Unlike Rainbow Dash."

Seeing Fluttershy bleeding helplessly on the ground in the middle of the night, some of that same crimson blood dripping from her forehooves, was gruesome to even think about. And all it took was a little paranoia and a little grief. Rarity was deeply ashamed for being so weak. "But...who told you?"

"Twilight and I visited Applejack in prison. She explained everything."

Rarity sighed. "Element of Honesty strikes again, I suppose." It still slightly surprised her, though, that Applejack would be willing to share the truth, especially since Applejack had taken part in attacking Fluttershy too. It was for the same reason as Rarity herself, she believed.

Spike paused. He seemed to be pondering over what to say next. Maybe Rarity ought to ask something. She broke the pause by asking, "Have you seen Pinkie?"

Spike glanced up and nodded. "Twilight's with her now. We haven't told her about what Applejack told us yet. Or Fluttershy."

"Did she say anything about me?"

"She still has a grudge against you." Before Rarity could feel disappointment Spike added, "But that's only because she thinks you're still a gambling psychopath. It has been a year."

Rarity's ears perked. "A gambling psychopath? Did she tell you--"

"She didn't tell us what exactly happened, but she did say you hurt Fluttershy."

"That's it?"

He hesitated. "Yeah, I think that's about how much we got out of her."

"Right." Rarity's hood was covering her head; she pushed it off. "Should I go see her?"

"I don't know." Spike glanced back in the direction of the bakery. "She's been pretty upset."

"The murder." Rarity had just remembered. She sometimes watched Fluttershy converse with her husband. Even if it was hurtful, Rarity was too cowardly to go in to help. But the week before she'd heard of a murder at Sugarcube Corner. She'd dismissed it, thinking Sandstorm was lying to frighten Fluttershy, but now it seemed likely to be true after all. "Did it actually happen?" she asked.

Spike nodded, and he decided to proceed to tell her exactly how Pinkie was feeling.

-

There she was.

The mare he had feared to see for the past decade was right there, in that building.

He had always firmly believed that she wouldn't return. If she returned, she'd surely ruin everything in a matter of time. But as he listened, he realized that she, at the moment, was too emotionally weak to do anything harmful. He had time to plan this out.

Some of his type had stayed here, unlike the others who all returned to their homeland. He was the only one in this particular destroyed village. And for good reason--to make sure all his hard work remained untouched.

This is why he tended to murder young ones. They could grow up to be strong enough to fix everything, and that is what he feared. He had missed his target last time, but this time the mare would be easy to catch.

Once she was gone, as well as any of the young children of this village, he could continue peacefully guarding his art.

The art of destruction. Not just of the village, but of the lives of those who lived in it.