Loss: An Epilogue

by Ospero

Rating: everyone
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Spike, Rarity
Length: 1370

Spike's return after the events of the fanfic "Loss" by Caffum.

A short epilogue to the story Loss, by Caffum, dealing with Spike's return to Ponyville some time after Rarity's death. Knowledge of the original story is helpful, but not strictly necessary.

Published 2012-04-02 12:44:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-02 12:44:02 UTC

Lost and Found

“I still hate you, you know.”

The voice speaking those words was quiet, barely above a whisper. Had Twilight not turned her head at exactly the right moment, it wouldn't have carried all the way to her.

She looked down the path to the grave she'd just visited. It was getting dark, and a slight fog had begun to rise. Even so, the figure at the grave was distinct enough – a young purple dragon with gleaming green spikes, slightly taller than Twilight remembered him.

He didn't seem to have noticed her yet, and she had the feeling she was listening in on something private, intimate even. But her curiosity, not to mention the sisterly love she still held for the dragon, won out. She remained where she was, hidden from his sight by a bend in the path and a small cluster of bushes.

Spike bent down and put something on the grave that Twilight couldn't see. When he spoke again, it was in that same quiet tone of voice.

“Why, Rarity?” Even across the distance, the anguish in his words was palpable. “Why did you have to go? Why did you leave us? Why did you leave me?” He seemed to choke slightly on those words.

The dragon fell to his knees. It took every ounce of willpower Twilight possessed to not run to him right then and there, to comfort him in any way possible, but somehow she knew he had to go through this on his own.

“You never realized just how strongly I felt, did you?” A slight hint of anger had entered the dragon's voice, though its volume remained as low as before. “Even I didn't. You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone and all that.” He released a small puff of smoke from his nostrils.

“How often I heard that, and never quite grasped what it meant. But then you left. Here one second, gone the next, and I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.” His hands had clenched into fists, he trembled slightly. “A crush. Doesn't that sound sweet and harmless? It wasn't.” He drew a deep breath, as if steadying himself for the most difficult thing he ever had to say.

“I love you.” The trembling intensified. “And how I wish I could have said that when you could still hear it.” The anger seemed to have evaporated as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only a deep sadness.

Twilight couldn't hold it in any longer. She sobbed once, very quietly, but Spike reacted as if a firework had gone off next to his head. He leapt to his feet and whirled around. “Hello? Who's there?”

Well, time to face him. Twilight stepped around the bushes back onto the path.

Spike stared at his erstwhile mentor as if he was seeing a ghost. “Twilight? What are you doing here?”

She wasn't entirely sure of her voice at the moment, so she just pointed a hoof at the grave behind him.

“Oh.” He smiled bashfully. “Yeah, that should have been obvious.”

“How ... how long has it been?” Twilight croaked. Her voice was still far from steady, but at least she could form words again.

Spike glanced up at the evening sky. “Almost three years.”

“Spike, I'm sorry. I tried to find you, immediately after you'd left, but the guards told me ...”

“ ... that I had left explicit instructions not to let anypony near me, least of all you.” The shame and bitterness in Spike's voice hit Twilight like a mallet. “I know. And please believe me, I'm sorry for that.” He drew a deep breath. “But this was something I had to face alone, you know?”

“Why?” The question was out of Twilight's mouth before she'd even fully realized. “You had friends here in Ponyville, friends who would have done anything to help you. You had me. Why did you run away?” She hadn't intended for that last sentence to sound as accusing as it did, but the frustration of those three years just had to find its way out now that its cause was standing right there in front of her.

He lowered his head and cast down his gaze. “I didn't know back then, but I felt I had to do this, and it turned out I was right. It's how dragons work.”

That was not exactly the answer she had expected. “What do you mean 'how dragons work'?”

“I found out about all that in one of the books in the Royal Library.” He spoke almost mechanically, as if quoting a very familiar text. “'Dragons are solitary creatures, and most of their emotional coping mechanisms are constructed to work best in solitude.'” He shot a glance at Twilight. “I might have grown up among ponies, but I can't deny that in a lot of ways, I'm not like you.”

Something in Twilight's brain clicked. “Elemental Draconic Psychology, by Sigmund Pferd. I read that once, so long ago, but I never thought ...”

“You never thought to apply it to what I was going through after Rarity died.” A hint of the anguish and anger was audible in Spike's voice again. “You were so used to thinking of me as your assistant and little brother that you overlooked the forest for the trees.” A strange half-smile formed on his lips. “This is so like you, sis.”

She couldn't quite believe the rapid emotional transitions he seemed to be going through. “You ... you're not mad at me?”

“Oh, I was, believe me.” One of his hands had clenched into a fist again. “I thought you inconsiderate, too wrapped in your own grief to see what was happening to me. I hated you for ignoring me, just as I hated Rarity for abandoning me, and as I hated myself for my helplessness.” The fist unclenched, and again that half-smile appeared. “But you know what? I took some time to see it, but I was just as bad as you were.”

“What?” Twilight couldn't believe her ears. “What do you mean?”

“I was incredibly selfish and inconsiderate too.” Again the lowered head, the cast-down gaze. “I just ran away because I couldn't handle the pain any longer.”

“Spike.” The firmness in her voice made him look up. “Your reaction was perfectly normal for a dragon. I was too blind to see it at the time, but ...” she hesitated.

“What?” Spike seemed genuinely curious where she was going with this.

“I thought it was just a simple childhood crush, but it went far beyond that, didn't it?”

The dragon's eyes began to brim with tears. “Oh yes, it certainly did. In a way, it still does.” Spike pointed toward the grave, and Twilight saw that he had placed a single red rose at the foot of the headstone. “I loved her, Twilight. I have wished more than once that it could have been me instead of her. I ran away from Ponyville because everything here reminded me of her, of what I'd lost without ever gaining it in the first place.”

Tears were streaming down his face now, but at the same time, he seemed glad to finally get this weight off his chest. “Canterlot seemed like the best place to hide. Even there, it took me a year to finally be able to walk outside during the day without crying because she never would feel the warmth of sunlight on her face again. Today is the first time that I've managed to come back here and finally visit her grave.”

Twilight looked him in the eyes. “And how bad is it?” she asked gently.

“Oh, it hurts. It felt for the longest time as if nothing would ever be alright again.” He smiled again, genuinely this time, through the tears. “But I survived. And with a little bit of luck, all that will remain is a scar.” He pointed at his chest. “Right here.”

Twilight reached out a foreleg and embraced Spike. “We all bear that scar, Spike. But it seems you don't have to bear it alone any longer.”

He returned the embrace. “It's good to be back.”