Author's Note
Pre-read by FamousLastWords.
Proofread by Absolution.
Don't Forget To...
Spike was in the hospital when he first saw her.
He wasn't injured, and neither was she. He was visiting Rainbow Dash with the rest of the gang; Dash had taken another spill while practicing her newest trick. It wasn’t anything particularly bad this time, but they still wanted to be by her side just in case. That’s what friends were for, after all.
He wasn’t entirely sure why the other mare was there, though.
“Hey, miss, what’re you doing here?”
The cream-furred, scarlet-maned mare continued right past him, almost as though he didn’t exist. Her eyes looked strangely vacant, and her smile oddly hollow. Still, she continued on, humming along to her own invisible melody.
“Uh, hello? You there, Miss Pony-Mare-Lady?”
She abruptly stopped, signifying that she had heard him. She didn’t turn around to face him, though. She simply stood there, waiting for him to catch up.
He scampered down the linoleum-padded floor toward her. With a smile, he whipped around in front to get a better look at her face.
She was a pretty mare, to be sure. Her face exuded youth, and her posture maturity. Spike had never been good with age, but if he had to guess, he would say that she was a couple years younger than Twilight and her friends.
Much to his surprise, she was carrying a large bouquet of flowers in her mouth.
He wasn’t quite sure what to say. Doctors and nurses scurried past them from room to room, going about their daily routines. Nopony paid them any attention.
Spike felt his face heat up. She simply stood there, waiting for him to do something, anything. He tried to move, but his feet were glued to the floor. He tried to open his mouth, but his lips were sewn shut. His blush deepened, and he looked down at his feet sheepishly.
She smiled politely at him before continuing down the hallway. The mare glided into the next room over, still carrying her assortment of flowers.
Without thinking, Spike followed her. He stood in the doorway, transfixed, watching the mare place a flower—a vibrant yellow daisy—down onto the pillow next to the elderly stallion in the hospital bed.
Like a butterfly, she fluttered out of the room and past Spike once more. She continued down the hallway to the next room, ready to restart the process.
“Wait!” he called after her. “What’re you doing with those flowers?”
She stopped in place once more. This time, however, she turned to face him. “Giving them to the sick ponies.”
Her answer was very matter-of-fact, delivered as though Spike should have seen it coming from a mile away. It begged the question: “Why?”
Her expression softened, and her endless eyes seemed to stare straight through him. The mare’s lips curled into a melancholic half-smile. “To be remembered.”
He shifted his weight back and forth from foot to foot. He felt himself tense up as the words formed on his lips, but he said them anyway. “What… what do you mean?”
She smiled a little.
He chuckled nervously.
She plodded over to him. After carefully taking one flower from her bouquet—a bright red rose—she gently placed it into his outstretched hand.
Spike looked down at the peculiar flower. It was easily the length of his forearm, possibly a little bit longer. The petals caught his attention first, as they were flimsy and flashy at the same time. He carefully caressed one of them with a claw, but retracted it quickly, almost as though the flower would shatter into a million little shards in his hand.
Then he noticed the thorns. They were small, but sharp. He hadn’t noticed them at first, but they were even more entrancing than the petals.
He gently closed his eyes, clenching the rose in his fist.
When he opened his eyes again, the mare was nowhere to be seen. He looked around incredulously, but every trace of her existence—everything except the bright red rose—was gone.
He raised one eyebrow, letting out a slight smile. He spun around on his heels and began the trek back to Rainbow’s hospital room.
Though it was only a few doors down the hallway, the walk felt miles long. His mind was fuzzy yet clear at the same time. He didn’t know what to think or do.
Who was that mare?
He skidded to a halt right outside Rainbow’s door. After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Spike walked back inside.
Twilight was the first to notice his presence. “Spike, where in Equestria have you been? I thought you were just getting a drink, not traveling to the Crystal Empire and back!”
Everypony turned to him. Their eyes bored into his, and he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. His expression immediately broke into a deep frown.
He was suddenly very aware of the rose in his hand. He hid it behind his back before anypony could say anything. More questions was the last thing he needed right then.
“Well?” Twilight asked. “Where have you been for the past hour? We were worried sick about you, Spike.”
Spike kicked at the ground with his right foot, sending some dust flying into the air.
He looked up, meeting her gaze head-on. “Nowhere.”
Spike trudged down the street, dragging his feet in the most melodramatic way possible. With an angry huff, he lifted up the grocery list in-hand and read it aloud.
“One Dozen Muffins
Two Gallons of Cider
One Bushel of Apples
Two Loaves of Bread…”
The list went on and on. Spike skimmed it all the way down to the bottom, where one specific item caught his eye.
“…And One Bouquet of Daffodils (For Rainbow).”
“Daffodils?” he wondered aloud. “But Rainbow doesn’t even like flowers!”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “She barely even clipped her wing! Why is everypony doting on her? Seriously, I’m almost positive that she’s faking it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Spike regretted saying them. That was needlessly harsh. He was being unfair. Hell, if he were in her position, he probably would’ve done the same.
But that still didn’t change the way he felt.
With a sigh, he plodded over to the nearest booth in Ponyville Square: the flower stand.
He lifted the sheet of paper up to his face to double check what Twilight wanted. Still looking down at Twilight’s list, he said, “Uh, can I have, like, a bouquet of daffodils, please?”
When he looked up, he realized he was speaking to the same mare from the day before. He raised an eyebrow. Didn’t she work at the hospital?
She stared at him, her eyes just as vacant as before. Her lips curled into a smile, and she nodded at his request. Reaching down underneath the stand, she pulled up an average-sized glass vase. She meticulously arranged thirteen flowers, presumably daffodils, inside of it.
Spike smiled at her once she was finished. “Thanks! So, uh, how much do I owe you?”
She paused for a moment to think, then said, “Who are they for?”
He cocked his head to the side. “…Rainbow Dash. Why do you ask?”
Her tail swished back and forth, and her ears perked up. Smiling, she said, “Then you owe me nothing.”
“But I have to pay you something. I can’t just take your stuff for free. That’s, like, stealing or something, right?”
She blinked twice, then let out a few giggles. “It’s quite alright. Money isn’t everything.”
“If you say so, ma’am.”
Her expression quickly sobered. “I would hate to hold you up, though. See you later, Spike. Have a nice day.”
“Yeah, see you,” Spike replied, lost somewhere in his own little world.
The dragon turned around and took a few steps away before he stopped himself. Scratching his head, he mumbled, “Wait, what did she mean by ‘see you later’? And how the hay did she know my name?”
Spike spun around again, only to see she was still staring at him with those big, blank eyes. “Wait, what’s your name?” he asked.
She smiled a wan smile. “Roseluck. My name is Roseluck.”
Stiff chairs. Faded white paint. Sterile, cold, and alone. So very, very alone.
Goddess, Spike hated hospitals. Rainbow was the one locked up in here all day, but it sure felt like he was the one who was trapped.
The mare in question tossed and turned in her sleep, letting out a little grunt of discomfort when she rolled onto her injured wing. She mumbled something unintelligible before rolling restlessly back onto her other side, desperately searching for sleep’s gentle caress.
Fluttershy looked down at her, concern etching her features. She softly nudged the side of Rainbow’s face. “Wakey-wakey, Rainbow. We’ve got something here for you.”
Rainbow pulled the pillow up over her head, muffling her voice. “No. I’m still asleep. Come back later.”
Fluttershy giggled. “Well, okay. If you want us to leave, then we’ll go. See you in a few weeks once you’re all better!”
The bed-ridden pegasus jerked up, instinctively throwing the pillow that was once over her face across the room. “No, wait!”
Everypony’s eyes were on her. Chuckling nervously, she added, “Uh, it’s okay. You girls can stay… erm, if you want to, that is.”
The others all looked at each other. An uncomfortable moment of silence passed before they all erupted into laughter. Rainbow’s ears flattened against her head, and she laughed sheepishly along with them.
Spike stood there like a statue, watching everything unfold before him with alarming stillness.
“So, uh, you said you had something for me?” asked Rainbow.
“In fact, yes, we do!” said Twilight. She levitated her saddlebags over, pulling out a familiar bouquet of daffodils. They were the very same daffodils Spike had picked up at the market barely three hours earlier.
Twilight hooved the flowers over to Rainbow. “The girls and I thought you might want something to brighten up your room, so we got you these.”
Rainbow’s face lit up like a winter’s sunrise, rising over the horizon and pushing back the cold of the night. “Wow, that’s awesome! Thanks so much, girls. C’mere and gimme a hug!”
The five other mares scurried over to the bedside, latching onto Rainbow and never letting go. A chorus of hopes and wishes for her well being rang out, filling up the silence and empty spaces between them.
Spike could feel the tears begin to well behind his eyes. The dam would burst any moment now.
The girls were the ones who had bought Rainbow flowers. The girls were the ones who had done all the work. The girls were the ones who saved the world time after time, always getting all of the credit.
It made sense, though. After all, the girls were the only ones who mattered.
At that, Spike silently slipped out of the room, going unnoticed by everypony yet again.
He slowly slid down against the wall outside the room, coming to a stop in a fetal position. He hugged his legs close to his chest, and the river began to flow from his eyes. He closed them and rested his head on his knees, trying to hide his bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks from the world.
It was always the same. Each and every time he did something, anything to help, nopony noticed. The others always got the credit, and he was left on the sidelines, lost and alone. He was being used and there was nothing he could do about it.
Hell, even Twilight, his best friend, had used him.
He hugged his legs even closer to his chest, trying to fight back the feelings that were assaulting him so.
It’s not like the others meant to alienate him. It just sort of happened. It always had, and it always would; the bouquet was merely the tip on the iceberg.
By now, one would think that he’d be used to it.
He wasn’t.
With a sigh, Spike sniffled and opened his eyes. Standing there, not even five feet away, was Roseluck.
In a shaky, quiet voice, Spike said, “H-hi…”
Frowning, Rose spat her bouquet of flowers out onto the floor: the very same flowers she had treated so delicately the day before. She nosed through them, eventually picking up one specific flower.
She carefully moved in, placing the flower—a snow white rose—onto Spike’s lap.
Spike looked up at her, down at the flower, then finally up at her again. “I… I couldn’t… I don’t…”
“Shh,” Roseluck whispered. She leaned in and nuzzled his cheek, wiping away the last few stray tears. After she pulled away, she smiled down at him earnestly. She gave him a curt nod and floated down the hallway, ready to give the rest of her flowers out to the hospital patients.
Spike watched her leave in wonder, all traces of his sorrow and dejection long gone.
Who was she?
“Surprise!”
The look of elation on Rainbow’s face was bright enough to melt a thousand winters. She looked around the library in wonder, her gaze sliding from the “Glad you’re better!” banner, to the enormous cake, and finally to all her friends surrounding her.
“Wow… you guys didn’t have to do this,” Rainbow breathed.
“But we wanted to, Dashie-Washie! What kind of party-thrower would I be if I didn’t throw parties?” asked Pinkie.
“Not a very good one, of course,” said Rarity. “Though, you did have a little help. Didn’t you, darling?”
“Yuppers!” Pinkie cheered. “Everypony helped out! Twilight let us use the library, Fluttershy and Rarity set up the decorations, I baked the cake, and Spike… Spike, uh… What exactly did you do again, Spike?”
Spike sighed. “I cleaned up the library before everypony came, I bought the food and decorations, and I made the party favors. And I’m almost positive that Twi’s going to make me clean up afterward, too. Not that it matters anyway…”
“Yeah, that’s what he did! So, do you like it? Do you like it, do you like it, do you like it!?” Pinkie chanted, hopping circles around Rainbow Dash.
“Heck yeah I do, Pinks! Now lets get this party started!”
Pinkie darted over to the stereo, pushing the power button with her nose. The music came through the speakers loud, bubbly, and upbeat. The mares all danced along with the beat, enjoying each other’s company.
Spike stood off to the side, watching.
He eventually tore his eyes off the others and headed upstairs, unable to suffer through the party any longer. Once he reached the top of the staircase, he trudged into the bedroom and plopped down onto his bed.
He let out another sigh, rolling onto his back. As he stared up at the ceiling, he listened to the rhythmic thrum of the music coming from the floor below him. He pulled his pillow up over his head, pushed it down over his face, and screamed at the top of his little dragon lungs.
He desperately wanted to feel angry. He wanted to feel sad. He wanted to feel jealous. He wanted to want to kick and scream and cry. He wanted to want to break something. He wanted to want to break everything. He wanted to feel something, anything to let him know that he was alive.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
All he felt was tired.
It was the same stupid thing day in and day out, and he was far too used to it. So used to it, in fact, that he couldn’t even bring himself to feel upset. Really, all he felt was tired. Tired of feeling angry and sad and jealous. Tired of wanting to kick and scream and cry. Tired of everything.
He pulled the pillow off his face and rolled to the side. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he scanned the room, looking for something to distract him.
Finally, his eyes settled on a vase resting atop his dresser. A vase filled with two wilting roses.
A week had passed since Roseluck had first given them to him. He wasn’t sure why, but he had gone out and gotten a nice vase for them. He watered the roses every night, and made sure that they got plenty of sunlight. Unfortunately, as with most things, they began to wilt and wither far too soon.
After a contemplative moment of nothingness, Spike climbed from his bed and headed back downstairs. He walked right on past the six mares and out the front door, going unnoticed by all of them. He continued walking right through town, past Sugarcube Corner, past Town Hall, past The Carousel Boutique.
He continued walking right out of town, through a meadow, and up a hill. On top of that hill, he plopped down, sitting with his legs folded. He sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled, pushing his troubles to the back of his mind.
The sun had just fallen beneath the horizon, showering Equestria in the valiant blues and purples of dusk. Spike took a deep breath and fell back, letting the warmth of the night and the cool, moist grass embrace him. His eyes fluttered shut and he smiled slightly.
The sound of hoof-falls shattered the precious silence, gradually growing louder and louder, only to stop when they were a few feet away from Spike.
He wasn’t alone.
He knew that she was there. He didn’t need to look. He could sense her just standing there, waiting.
“How’d you know I was here?” Spike asked.
It was a stupid question. He hadn’t exactly been subtle when he had stormed through Ponyville on his way here, so chances were that she had seen him and followed out of curiosity. Even though it was a tad peculiar, it was still a nice change to be noticed.
She didn’t bother to reply. He knew the answer to his question, and she knew that he knew. It was all stupid formalities.
What she did do instead of replying, though, was lay down next to him.
At first, Spike wasn’t sure what to say. Should he even try and say anything? His heart aflutter in his chest, he sat up and looked over at her.
Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling.
Spike slunk back down into his laying position, basking in the companionable silence. His eyes slid shut and he folded his arms behind his head. He didn’t need to say anything; there wasn’t anything that needed to be said.
After a few minutes, his eyes shot open. Again, he didn’t dare look over at her, but he could feel her eyes on him. Those same, beady, vacant eyes were settled directly on him, giving him all of their attention.
Spike couldn’t help but shiver under her unrelenting gaze. “Not to be rude or anything, but, like, why do you always look at me like that?”
Her head cocked to the side. “How do you mean?”
“You always look at me funny,” Spike said plainly. “Your eyes just seem so… vacant.”
"…"
"…"
“I’m blind.”
That uncomfortable feeling deep in his gut flew away, leaving an emptiness somewhere inside of him. He rushed to fill it with the first words to roll off his lips. “…Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“—Don’t be. Even I forget sometimes.”
For a minute, Spike didn’t say anything else. He had already succeeded in killing the moment, so there was no use in making it worse. Eventually, however, his curiosity got the better of him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you, y’know… become blind?”
She smiled faintly at him. “All the lights that lead the way are blinding, Spike.”
He sat up, scratching the side of his head. “Wait, what does that even—”
She quieted him by placing a hoof gently over his mouth. Once she was sure he wouldn’t say anything more, she turned around, picked up something, and placed it down in front of him.
He looked down at the flower—a delicate pink rose—and his eyes widened in surprise.
He looked back up at her, and she smiled back down at him. Without another word, she spun around and headed back down the hill, through the meadow, and back into town.
Spike watched her leave, rapt. He didn’t mean to speak, but the name fell off his tongue before he could stop it.
“…Roseluck…”
Spike stood there, staring at the vase full of roses.
It was barely noticeable. Practically negligible, even. But now that he had noticed it, it just wouldn’t go away.
A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, and he squinted even harder, trying to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing.
The newest rose—the delicate pink one—was starting to wilt.
It had only been a few days, but the flower was already drooping along with the other two. He had tried everything: more water, less water, more sunlight, less sunlight… no matter what he did, it just would not help.
Without warning, Spike sighed. After a moment’s thought, he spun around, ran down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the—
“Spike, where are you going?”
Spike cursed under his breath and froze, his hand still wrapped around the doorknob. “Nowhere, Twi.”
Twilight trotted out from her study and into the foyer. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “With your hand on the doorknob like that, it certainly doesn’t look like you’re going nowhere.”
“Why do you care what I do all of the sudden?”
Twilight looked as though she had just been punched in the face. “What do you mean ‘all of the sudden’?”
“I mean that…” Spike rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I don’t have time for this,” he mumbled, flinging the library door wide open. He quickly scurried outside and headed down the road, leaving the door askew.
Twilight watched him go, a look somewhere between anger and sadness plastered on her face.
Spike broke into a run, flying down the street past buildings and ponies. He darted past shop after shop, slowly closing in on his destination. He kept on running and running and running until he reached the hospital entryway. With a deep breath, he pushed inside.
It didn’t take him very long to find her. She was wandering throughout the hallways, passing out flowers just like before. He ran in front of her and put a hand out, signifying her to stop.
And she did just that, though not before shooting Spike a confused look.
“Why?”
“Why what?” she asked.
“Why,” he repeated, “do you always give out flowers? It doesn’t make any sense! Like, you spend all your time cultivating and growing these flowers, only to give them away… Why?”
“To be remembered,” she answered plainly, shocking Spike with the strangest sense of déjà vu.
Spike’s nose crinkled, and his left ear twitched. “But why do you want to be remembered?”
Roseluck shook her head. “It’s not myself who needs to be remembered.”
“Then who?”
Roseluck’s eyes sparkled, bringing a life to them that made Spike shudder in awe. “Them,” she said, gesturing broadly around them. “Everypony deserves to be remembered.”
“…What?”
“Nopony deserves to be forgotten, especially those in this hospital. The one harsh truth of life is that nobody, even their memory, is immortal. Everypony’s colors fade eventually, but maybe, just maybe, I can make them last just a little bit longer.”
Spike could feel his heart beat faster and faster, thump thump thumping against his rib cage. His eyes darted around frantically, not daring to meet Roseluck’s. He opened his mouth to ask her to say something more, but his mouth snapped shut again immediately after he opened it.
“I… I’ve got to go,” Spike stammered before darting down the hallway.
“Wait!” she called after him.
He abruptly stopped, letting her know that he had heard her. However, he didn’t turn around to face her. He just stood there, waiting for her to catch up.
She trotted down to him. With a great big smile, she placed a flower—a jet black rose—into his waiting grasp. After nuzzling the side of his face, she headed back down the hall, resuming her self-assigned task.
Spike watched her walk away in a strangely familiar sense of wonder.
Really, it was a stupid idea. The chances that she’d even be there were miniscule, so it was pointless to get his hopes up. Besides, after how he’d acted earlier, she probably wouldn’t even want to see him.
…But he wanted to see her.
With a sigh, he turned to look at the vase resting atop the dresser. Just like the last seventeen times he’d checked in the last half hour, the black rose she’d given him sat amidst the other pink, white, and red ones, which were all wilting around it.
His eyes narrowed, and he clenched his teeth.
He’d made up his mind. He was going to do it.
He pushed himself onto his feet and scampered downstairs. After spewing a lie about going to see Rarity when Twilight asked where he was going, he headed out the door.
From there, he hurried through town, past Sugarcube Corner, past Town Hall, and past The Carousel Boutique. He continued walking right out of town and through a meadow, only to come to a stop atop a familiar hill overlooking Ponyville.
Before he could even sit down, she was there.
She laid down right next to him, just close enough that the hairs of her coat tickled his scales. He had to fight back the urge to shiver.
After a moment, he turned to her to ask why she’d come, but ultimately decided against it. Twilight’s mom and dad had always said that you shouldn’t question a blessing, and he certainly wasn’t one to argue.
“H-hey, what did you mean earlier? You know, when you said you wanted ponies to be remembered?” he asked. He wanted to know. He needed to know. It had been eating him alive since he’d left the hospital not even five hours ago.
She turned to him, her blind eyes looking straight into his. “How long are you going to live, Spike?”
He shrugged. “Uh, nopony really knows for sure. Most dragons live several thousand years, so that’s probably a good guess. It’ll definitely be a long time.”
She turned and looked up, losing herself among the stars in the night sky. “Then you will not remember me.”
Spike cocked an eyebrow at her.
“In several thousand years, nopony will remember me,” she said. “Nopony will know who I was, or what I did. It’s something that I’ve come to accept over the years, but… I don’t want anypony else to have to. I don’t want anypony else to feel the way I feel. That’s why I give them flowers. If I show them I care, if I show them that somepony cares, then they feel remembered. They know that I remember them, so they know that they won’t be forgotten.”
“…Okay, I think I understand,” Spike said, nodding to himself. “But why are you so concerned about being remembered once you’re gone?”
She smiled sadly at him, then turned to her other side. She picked up a flower—a blood red rose—and placed down onto his lap. After softly nuzzling him, she pulled herself up onto her hooves.
Spike looked down at the rose, then up at her again. “B-but I don’t understand—”
“It will all make sense soon enough,” she said. “And when it does, I want you to come see me. Alright?”
“O-okay,” he managed.
With one last smile, she turned tail and left, leaving Spike alone once more.
Spike’s eye twitched.
He looked over at the cluster of roses. His eye twitched again.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks of nothing—no flowers at the hospital, no meetings atop a hill overlooking Ponyville, and, worst of all, no answers.
It was eating him alive.
The roses were each a different color. That could not have been accidental. But… why?
Why, why, why? Why did she worry so much about being remembered? Why did she follow him to the hill? Why had she given him flowers in the first place?
None of it made sense.
He struggled to keep his eye from twitching a third time.
He abruptly jumped up from his seat and sprinted down the stairs. “I’m going out, Twi! Be back in a little bit!” he shouted.
“Okay!” came the response.
Spike nodded and pushed outside. He immediately broke into a sprint, running as fast as the speed of light. He was a juggernaut, an unstoppable force flying down the streets of Ponyville.
Left. Right. Left. He swerved around ponies and buildings, making turns here and there to get to his destination quicker.
Eventually, he reached the house. Her house.
He stopped at the door and gulped. Right there, on Roseluck’s doorstep on a breezy October morning, unstoppable force met immovable object.
Hesitantly, carefully, he raised a fist and rapped on the door. After a minute of terrifying silence, the door slowly creaked open.
“W-wuzzahuh…? Who is it?” asked the pink-furred mare, bags under her eyes and coffee mug in-hoof.
“Uh, hello. Is Roseluck home?”
“She’s probably around back,” the mare, Daisy, answered. “You can go check if you want.”
Spike thanked her and darted around the house, shivering with anticipation and apprehension.
Crouched down in the garden was Roseluck, yanking weeds from amongst the flowers. Her ear twitched, showing that she had heard him approach, but she didn’t look up.
“Um, where have you been for the past two weeks?”
“Right here,” she answered plainly, yet not patronizingly. “Why are you here?”
“I… it’s driving me absolutely mad,” he muttered. “Just… why? Why the flowers? Why me?”
She shook her head condescendingly and chuckled a little. Looking up at him with her big, calming eyes, she said, “You didn’t answer my question, Spike.”
His legs locked up, and his eyes glued themselves to his feet. Wordlessly, he breathed. “I… guess I came because… because I missed you.”
She said nothing, patiently waiting for him to continue.
He gulped. “I guess I missed you because… because you make me feel… feel, uh…”
“…Remembered?” she ventured.
Suddenly, something clicked within Spike’s mind. His eyes lit up like a sky full of stars, and he murmured, “Oh my god.”
Roseluck giggled a wonderful little giggle, sending Spike’s heart aflutter.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then Spike spoke, his expression hardening. “I… I want to help.”
“With what?”
“Everything. The flowers, the hospital, the remembering… I want to help you help everypony. It’s the least that I can do.”
Her eyes seemed more distant than usual as she stared right through him. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her nose and mouth scrunched up in the most adorable way.
Spike had never been more terrified in his life.
Her tail flicked to the side, and she smiled at him.
“Of course you can help.”
Spike walked alongside Roseluck down the hospital halls, a big smile on his face and a bushel of assorted flowers in hand. Neither of them said anything, content to just bask in the glorious silence of friendship.
The duo turned into one of the rooms, and the elderly stallion inside smiled at them upon their entry.
“Back again so soon?” he asked. “You visited me just yesterday.”
After a gentle nudge from Roseluck, Spike ran up and put a bleach-white lily on his bedside table. “And we’ll be here again tomorrow,” Spike said.
The stallion shook his head and chuckled, a chuckle that quickly devolved into a whooping cough. Once he regained control of his voice, however, he said: “T-thank you for all you’ve done for everypony here at the hospital. You’ve—” another fit of sickly coughs overtook him “—you’ve helped more of us than you could ever imagine.”
Roseluck smiled.
“Though, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you hand out flowers in the first place?”
Spike turned to Roseluck and smiled, and she smiled right back at him. “To be remembered,” he said, as though it the answer was as plain as day.
Roseluck smiled even bigger at him. He looked away, his cheeks flushed bright red.
Goddess, Spike loved hospitals.
Once more, they were sitting on the hill overlooking Ponyville. She laid sprawled out, completely relaxed, and Spike leaned against her back like a chair.
“Y’know it’s kind of funny,” he said.
The words were quiet and gentle, yet powerful enough to shatter the walls they had built around themselves to keep them safe from the others, those who didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?”
“I’unno,” Spike said. “All of this, I guess. How we met. That whole thing.”
“It’s funny that we met?”
“Naw, it’s funny how we met, not that we met. Like, it was an accident. I was just curious why you were handing out flowers in the hospital, so I went up and asked you. It was just an accident.”
“…Just an accident?”
Spike nodded. “A happy accident.”
At that, she smiled.
And Spike was happy.
This time, they were in the garden. She was crouched down amongst the flowers, meticulously pulling out weeds and trimming the rose bushes where they were overgrown.
Spike stood behind her, holding a bucket full of her gardening tools. Shaking his head, he smiled down at her. “How did you even get into gardening in the first place?”
She merely shrugged.
“How do you not remember? It seems like it would be something important to know.”
She shrugged again.
“Oh, don’t gimme that. It’s your special talent, for Celestia’s sake!”
She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyes big, hopeful, and undeniably empty—possibly even more so than before. She let out a warm laugh. “I wish I remembered. I was really little, and it just sort of… happened.”
Spike stood there, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s difficult, yes, but I like it. It’s a good distraction.”
He shot her a concerned look. “A distraction? From what?”
She smiled sadly up at him, but said nothing more.
Suddenly, he wasn’t quite so happy as before.
The door to the library slowly creaked open, and in walked Spike. He was about to head upstairs to his room when he saw her. Sitting at the table was Twilight Sparkle, with tear stains running down her cheeks.
“Twilight?”
“C-can we talk for a m-minute, Spike?” she managed, trying to hold back the tears.
Wordlessly, Spike scurried over to the table and took a seat next to Twilight. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”
“Everything,” she choked out, struggling to get a word in between sniffles. “Roseluck s-stopped by here earlier and t-told me how you f-felt neglected. How you f-felt like you weren’t r-remembered…”
Anchors dropped inside Spike’s chest. It suddenly got harder and harder for him to breathe. “I… it’s okay, Twi. I was just being oversensitive.”
“No, it’s not okay!” Twilight shouted. “I’m supposed to take care of you! I’m supposed to be your friend! I’m the Celestia-damned Princess of Friendship for goodness’ sake! I… I’m a terrible pony…”
Spike got up from his chair and threw himself at Twilight, hugging her as tightly: hugging her the way only Spike knew how. “Twi, don’t you ever say that again. You’re a great pony, and an even better Princess. I know these last few months have been hard on you. You have so many friends that it’s easy for you to lose track. It’s fine. I promise.”
She sniffled, and pulled him in even closer. She squeezed him so tightly that his eyes bulged out of his head and he thought he just might pop any second. But, more importantly, she squeezed him so tightly that he knew she truly cared. “T-thank you, Spike. I promise you it won’t ever happen again.”
Spike smiled a little. “It’s fine. ‘Sides, if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I never would have made a different friend of my own.”
“O-oh. Well, I’m happy for you.”
“Maybe… just maybe…” he murmured under his breath, looking down at his feet, “maybe even something more…”
“—and the crystal ponies were all like, ‘Whaaat?’ and I was like, ‘That’s right, I just saved your lives!’ Then I was pretty much their king. No big deal, though,” Spike said, brushing the nonexistent dust off his shoulders.
Together, as one, they both erupted into a fit of boisterous laughter. Ponies stopped and stared, giving them all sorts of odd and disapproving looks, but neither of them noticed nor cared.
They simply laughed harder.
Spike sat atop her produce stand and she stood behind it. She slammed a hoof down on the countertop, trying to stop laughing; it was to no avail.
“Spike, you’re a riot. You know that, right?”
Spike smiled at her, and his heart lurched into his throat. His face flushed a bright red. “Y-yeah, I guess I am, aren’t I?” he said, false arrogance oozing from his voice.
She chuckled, shaking her head at his antics. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Spike.”
And with that one line, Spike’s happiness fell away like a wingless dove.
He shivered, but not from the cold.
That night, the stars shone brightly down upon them. They sat on the hill—their hill—just the same as they had every night for the past four months.
But somehow, this time it was different. Spike could feel it.
Slowly, he turned to her. What he saw wasn’t Roseluck. No, it was better. What he saw was a mare—a gentle, delicate mare—with a heart of gold. The moonlight let her eyes sparkle and lit her soft coat on fire. Her silky mane seemed to float down her head and around her shoulders like a trickling brook, nice and cool and refreshing.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He’d seen her like this every single day for the past four months. One hundred twenty-three days. Two thousand, nine hundred fifty-two hours. One hundred seventy-seven thousand, one hundred twenty minutes. Ten million, six hundred twenty-seven thousand, two hundred seconds.
Even after all that time, he never got tired of seeing her beautiful face.
Sensing his gaze on her, she turned to him and smiled.
It took everything he had not to break right then and there. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn’t breathe.
After an eternity of just waiting, just staring into each others’ eyes, she nervously leaned in.
Slowly, hesitantly, he met her halfway.
The kiss was clumsy and awkward at first, as most couples’ first kisses tend to be. But it was meaningful, and said more than words could truly ever say.
After an all-too-brief moment, she pulled away, her cheeks blushing as bright as her namesakes. Spike was sure he wore a matching blush, but he didn’t care. None of that mattered. All that mattered was him, her, and, more importantly, them.
When she smiled faintly at him, Spike could’ve sworn that he was dead, and that Discord was just playing a cruel, cruel joke on him. The only thing that convinced him otherwise was the feeling rooted deep in his gut: a beautifully terrifying feeling.
It was the feeling of being alive.
Twilight was droning on about some advanced scientific concept, oblivious to the whole restaurant around her. Caramel sat there in wonder, lovingly watching her ramble on and on in a way that only Twilight could. Roseluck smiled and watched Caramel watch Twilight, basking in the beauty of the early stages of their relationship. Spike merely watched Roseluck watch the other couple, happy enough just to see her be happy.
It was a certainly a peculiar double date… but that didn’t mean that it was a bad one.
Then, out of nowhere, everything stopped. Twilight stopped talking, and there was somepony else there.
“Uh, sir?” the waiter asked, looking at Caramel. “Are you there, sir?”
Caramel paid the waiter no heed. Instead, he just continued to lovingly stare at Twilight, lost in his own little world. Twilight’s world.
“Uh, Caramel?” Twilight said, poking him out of his trance. “Aren’t you going to order your food?”
“Wazzahuh?” he said, his eyes shooting open. A faint trail of drool ran down his cheek, almost as though he had just woken up.
“Aren’t you going to order your food?” Twilight repeated.
He only just seemed to notice the waiter. The waiter shot him a condescending look, and Caramel’s blush deepened, if such a thing was even possible.
“Uh, I’ll just have whatever Twilight is having,” he stammered.
Roseluck and Spike turned to one another, sharing a knowing look and a giggle.
“Hey, don’t laugh at him!” Twilight said, her blush growing. “It was actually kind of cute, in a weird sort of way.”
Caramel hid his face in his hooves. His whole body was turning bright red, and he looked as if he would literally die of embarrassment any second.
Suddenly, Twilight’s eyes locked with Spike’s, and a devilish smile spread across her face. “At least Caramel doesn’t have a huge pile of dead roses sitting in his room.”
Spike’s eyes spread wide, and his jaw hit the table. He found himself wishing that he would die of embarrassment, just to escape this trainwreck of a dinner date. Unfortunately, he would have no such saving grace.
Roseluck turned to him, a delicate pink blush tainting her own cheeks. “D-did you really keep all the roses I gave you?”
Spike nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
“Spike, I’ve given you a rose every day since we’ve started dating. That’s, like, almost two hundred roses! You… you kept them all…?”
Twilight’s smirk grew even bigger. “All one hundred eighty-nine of them.”
He nervously coughed into his arm, trying to avoid the conversation.
She smiled bigger and broader, turning back to the table. Somehow, she seemed much… happier than usual.
The waiter, who had witnessed the whole encounter, merely sighed. “Mondays…”
The grass was cold and the night even colder, but nothing could beat the warmth within Spike’s heart.
They were up on the hill, like so many nights before. Except this time, this one, special time, the stars seemed to shine even brighter, just for them. They sat there and watched the night owls of Ponyville scamper about.
A freezing gust of wind flew over the hilltop, causing both of them to shiver.
She pulled him close to her, and he huddled into her warmth. Together, their fire fought back the cold.
“Hey, Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Will… will you remember me once I’m gone?”
Concerned, Spike looked over to her. She seemed oddly distant, as though something was eating her from the inside out. He knew better than to ask, though. She would never tell him why. Instead, he just answered her question.
He smiled, fighting back the fear gnawing at his gut, and wrapped his arms around her neck in a gentle hug. “I’ll remember you forever and always… and that’s a promise.”
Spike barely had time to breathe before her lips slammed into his own. She pulled him even closer and tilted her head sideways, deepening the passionate kiss.
After two eternities, she pulled away, and Spike gasped for breath.
“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to… I just wanted—”
“It’s fine,” Spike said with a chuckle.
After a moment of silence, he smiled at her.
Everything was perfect.
The very next day, Spike rose with the sun, lazily stretching under its gentle caress. With a yawn, he pulled himself onto his feet and walked out of his room, coming to a stop in the hall. If he listened closely, he could hear two ponies breathing from inside Twilight’s room.
Spike smirked.
So Caramel did stay over last night.
He let his chuckle ring through the house, basking in the warmth it brought him. After a moment of enjoying the echo of his own laughter, however, he headed outside, following the well-worn path to the flower pony household.
The short walk was over quickly, and he bounced up the walkway to the front door. He rapped on it, waiting to see her happy face once more.
After an uncomfortable moment of waiting, the door swung open to reveal a snivelling wreck of a pony. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her hair was tangled.
“D-Daisy? What’s wrong?”
“You… you mean you didn’t hear?” she spoke, her voice hoarse from crying.
“Hear what?” he asked. The innocence packed behind the question nearly caused Daisy to burst into tears once more.
“R-Rose…. she passed away in the middle of the night… she’s gone…”
“What.”
Yes. No. Up. Down. Black. White. Everything was wrong. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Not like this. Not here. Not now. Not ever. It was over. But it had only just begun…
“Nurse Redheart said that she passed away peacefully, and that’s she’s in much less pain now. She’s in a better place, Spike.”
Fight. Flee. Freeze. Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. Misfiring neurons. Live. Die. Love. Hate. Gone… she was gone. The fire within him died, and the cold encased his heart. Wordlessly, he finally broke. His heart shattered into a million tiny shards, pieces of himself that belonged to her…
“S-Spike? Are you there?”
He ran. He ran as fast as he possibly could. The tears blurred his vision, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He shouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. He ran and ran until his legs finally gave out, depositing him politely onto the cold, cold ground. The ground where the two of them were united as one, where all the lies in the world became truths, where, under her loving gaze, he finally became a dragon worth loving. It was their ground. Their hill. Their life. Over…
He hugged his legs to his chest and let the wracking sobs tear away what was left of him piece by piece.
“S-Spike…? Is that you? Oh, Celestia, what have I done…”
He looked up, and there stood Daisy. A fresh river of tears flew down her face as well, and she smiled slightly at him.
Hesitantly, she sat down next to him. “Spike… I’m sorry. I thought that you knew. I thought that she told you.”
He looked up at her, silently begging her to keep going. Anything to put off the silence. Anything to put off the truth. Anything to put off the terrible reality that she, his one true love, was dead.
“She… she never told you why she was blind, did she?”
Spike shook his head.
“A few years ago, after she first went blind, we went to see a doctor. He noticed a brain tumor. It… her… and it… it made her blind,” she breathed, soft as silk. “A few months ago, the tumor started to spread. And last night… last night,” she choked up, unable to finish her sentence.
Spike looked up, meeting her watery gaze. “But… I didn’t… w-why didn’t…”
"She wouldn't have wanted you to cry over her, Spike. All flowers wilt with time, and she knew that. She would've wanted you to go on with life, not for you to get hung up on the past," said Daisy.
“No.”
“What?”
“I… I made her a promise. And I intend to keep it. I… I will remember her forever and always. She… she deserves it… and so much more…”
With a sad smile, Daisy stood up. “If… if you ever want to talk, come and get me, okay?”
Spike said nothing.
Letting out a sigh, she left. And with her departure, the tears returned.
Spike cried.
He cried right on through Roseluck’s funeral, and then through the next years of his life.
He cried through the Crusaders’ high school graduation, and he even cried through Twilight and Caramel’s wedding. He cried right on through forever, never forgetting everything that they had shared. Everything that they were.
Every day from then on—without fail—he would do the very same thing.
After getting tea with Rarity, or helping Nurse Redheart at the hospital, he would travel up to the top of the hill. Their hill.
Every day, he would sit down next to her gravestone. Every day, he would place another flower—a bright red rose—down on her grave.
Every day, he would cry. He would cry tears of joy, smiling just a little while reading her gravestone aloud:
“Rest In Peace, Roseluck:
The mare who will always be remembered.”
And every day he would smile, wiping away the tears from his eyes. For one day, he knew that they would be together again—all he had to do was remember.
