Spike Hates Himself

by Creed

Rating: teen
Tags: Spike, Comedy, Suicide / Self Harm, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 15206

So Spike tries to kill himself.

Spike hates himself, so he tries to kill himself. Unfortunately, Spike's attempts fail to help him. Apparently everyone else benefits from his internal suffering.

Hopefully Spike finds a solution to his problem.

Idea spurred by DragonRaiderX9, thanks!
Cover art by BlueOysterColt because the previous cover art didn't fit the story.

Edited by TheWraithWriter.

Warning: Absurd Humor, and I'm not spoiling the story to you so don't even think about asking what the other so-called triggers are.

Published 2018-04-18 03:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-11-22 07:22:39 UTC

Celestia Should Throw a Fastball at My Skull

Spike hated himself.

“I hate myself,” Spike said.

And he was sure of it. For the past month, he would walk outside and hear the grating sounds of ponies trying to jabber his chops off, only for him to imagine himself using a cheese grater on his ears. Let’s say, that didn't work well. He has scales for crying out loud.

So Spike became more and more imaginative, and soon, his self-hating loop had him waking up to the sounds of Twilight out of sync with his favorite tunes. He couldn't even listen to music anymore.

“Oh, Spike!”

Spike sighed. “I’m coming!”

He stomped down the stairs, his frown growing further and further. He couldn’t imagine what bullshit he was going to endure today.

Twilight looked at him, inquisitively. “What’s got you so upset?”

Spike couldn’t help but contain his enthusiasm. “I’m not wanting to talk about it.”

Spike knew his friend would not take no for an answer. She would just say his name all disappointed in his life choices—

“Spike…”

—and then she would look at him with a sad gaze that would make him lose his mind.

Twilight looked sad.

“You know you could talk to me about anything.”

Spike shook his head. “I can’t. Because if I told you what is bothering me, I would want you to hack ‘n’ slash me like one of those terribly cheesy slasher films.”

“Spike, slasher films aren’t all terribly cheesy, and why would you want me to kill you? I don’t understand.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “You don’t get it, so it’s better not to tell you and continue living my existence with a permanent hangover than to tell you and want to sacrifice myself to Celestia.”

Twilight watched him hop up to the table. “Well, know that you can tell me anytime. Even if I don’t understand, I’m willing to be your ear no matter what.”

Spike tried to smile, but the force inside him told him that her voice was more of a destroyer of worlds than a sanctifying grace.

“Thank you,” he squeaked, before promptly putting his arms on the table.

Twilight sat across from him with a cup of coffee in her magic. She quietly sat it in front of them, the steam radiating off it with no remorse.

“So what did you want, Twilight?”

Her face lit up into flames, just how Spike imagined it, only the flames didn’t burn her. Only her eyes glowed in the light. “Oh! I wanted you to help me with my errands today.”

“Errands?” Spike said with a raised brow.

“Yeah… errands.” Twilight twiddled her hooves. “Celestia had my bases covered this week.”

“She plays baseball now?”

Twilight shook her head. “She couldn’t hit a ball if she tried.”

Spike felt his inner Death scream in agony for a pitcher to hit him square in the head with a fastball. “I wish she could, that way it would…” He paused and shook his head. “Nevermind, so that must’ve been a figure of speech, right?”

“Exactly,” Twilight replied, nodding. “And I assume you wishing she would play baseball was too?”

Spike felt a bead of sweat trickle down his cheek. “Actually…”

“You would want Celestia to play baseball?”

Spike nearly snapped his neck in half with how fast he shook his head. “No, Twilight, I just wish she would be the pitcher and knock me out with a ball hotter than the sun.”

Spike imagined that Twilight would be shocked and would call a doctor from the Ponyville Medical Clinic immediately after that utterance. Instead, what Twilight said, shocked him.

“Nonsense, Spike! You’re fireproof!” Twilight said with a grin. “Besides, Celestia can’t throw a pitch faster than a foal, you wouldn’t die by that!”

Spike ratta-tap-tapped his fingers against the table and looked away from Twilight.

“Spike…”

And there was that disappointment again, voicing its grating concerns of his deplorable demeanor, while Death trickled thoughts of jumping off the top of the castle in hopes of breaking his spinal cord.

Spike growled at her.

Twilight jumped back in her seat.

“S-Spike?”

He stood up and walked over to her. “Tell me what errands you need done, and I’ll get them done.”

“O-Okay,” Twilight tried to say through her chattering teeth.

Spike felt fire filter through his body. He could nearly surge the energy through his nose to burn himself alive, but yet again, if Twilight’s claim was true, he couldn’t burn himself alive. He’d just be a walking torch. Plus, Twilight’s legs shaking made Spike’s lips permanently stuck in eternal sadness.

“Ugh,” Spike said, facepalming. “Look, I’m sorry, Twilight. Death’s just telling me so many different things to kill myself, while everyone sounds like a combination of a cheese grater and a pony trying to write on a chalkboard." Spike winced at the imagery. "I’m pretty close to snapping.”

Twilight brought him close, wrapping her hooves around him. “I’m sorry for trying to make you do something for me when you’re suffering like this. Can I help you out?”

Spike shrugged and returned the hug. “I don’t know if you can, Twilight.”

“Well a hug’s a good start,” Twilight said.

“You know what…” Spike said, his eyes widening. “I think you just gave me an idea on how to solve my problem!”

“I did?” Twilight said, pulling away from the gentle embrace.

Spike hopped up and down. “Yeah! Twilight, you’re a genius!” He gave his friend one final hug, before scurrying out of the kitchen.

Twilight ears fell. “He didn’t wait for me to write down my errands…”

It was a ~~sunny~~some type of day in Ponyville. Spike was wearing a sly smirk on his face as he walked down the street. Spike felt great. Twilight’s suggestion has his hopes sky high. All he needed to do was visit Pinkie and tell her what he needed from her.

Spotting his destination, Spike smiled and climbed the steps of the Sugarcube Corner.

“Hello, Pinkie Pie!” shouted Spike as he walked through the double doors.

Inside, Pinkie Pie was cooking muffins.

And now she was right in front of Spike.

“Hi, Spike! What could I do for you?”

Spike hugged her close. “Could you hug me to death, Pinkie?”

“...What?”

Author's Note

This was written in an hour and thirty while listening to people opening some doors that were meant to be closed.

God damn it, Missy.

Pink Hugs Are Totally Unconventional Killers

Pinkie Pie stood, frozen. “Say that again?”

Spike squeezed her tighter. “Could you please hug me to death, Pinkie?”

“I knew I felt a disturbance in the force,” Pinkie Pie replied, blinking at the dragon. “Are you sure you want that type of hug?”

Spike bobbed his head. “As sure as you jumping into a pond, and coming out with fifty clones that eventually get themselves killed due to Twilight’s unconventional means of picking off ponies one by one.”

“Spike, asking to be hugged to death is much more unconventional than sniping clones of me!” Pinkie said, hopping around. “And besides, those clones were very dangerous, especially that generation three point five clone!”

Spike approached the mare. “Generation three point five?”

“The animators really enjoyed my long face.”

“Pinkie, your face isn’t long,” Spike said with a tilted head.

“Exactly!” she said, before throwing confetti in the air and poofing away, leaving a colorful dragon frozen in her wake.

Spike gasped, and looked around. The mare just disappeared, and Spike hadn’t the foggiest of where the pink-haired hugger killer went.

“Pinkie, where did you?”

Then, he felt hooves wrap around his midsection. “Surprise!”

And suddenly, Spike felt the fire inside him burn his stomach alive.

“P-Pinkiee…?”

As he struggled to say his assailant’s name, Spike remembered Celestia telling him about his hatching. She had tried to auction off his egg to the foal who could possibly open him up. He thought the foal would feast upon his flesh and—

“All done!”

—then inner Death stopped making Celestia look like a dragon stealer with no remorse, and his stomach was no longer burning alive.

“What happened?”

“Since you asked…” Pinkie Pie paused to shove her muzzle in front of Spike’s nose. “I tried to hug you to death, but because you’re my friend and I love all my friends, I decided to try and scramble your insides so that your organs would be more reinforced when Twilight gets all clumsy with her magic and accidentally pelts you with a stack of books!” Pinkie Pie gasped and jumped back. “Or maybe even dropping an anvil on top of you!”

“Don’t remind me,” Spike said, holding his head. He caressed it gently. “I still have nightmares of her magic failing and me getting hit repeatedly with heavy objects.”

“Or tossed to the heavens?”

“No, that was Cadance. I was the one falling off the castle. For me, I’m thrown into anything that’s solid.” Spike frowned. “None of that has killed me yet, and neither will your hugs.”

“Kill you?” Pinkie Pie questioned. “Why do you want me to kill you so much?”

Spike leaned against the counter. “Well, for the past two months, I’ve grown to hate myself, to the point of having no choice but to consider my options.”

“And out of the all the options…” Pinkie mumbled, stepping away from the dragon.

“Pinkie…”

“...you didn’t consider coming to me to ask for help?” Pinkie said, sitting on the floor. Her hair slowly lost its sheen.

Spike frowned. He wanted to say something but the guilt washed over him like being shoved into a lake to learn how to count to twelve.

Spike frowned. “I’m sorry, Pinkie. I should’ve considered talking to you. Will you forgive me?”

Suddenly, Pinkie poofed in front of him, her hooves wrapped around his neck. “Of course!” Pinkie Pie made sure to be careful of his chest, lightly embracing him. “If you’re feeling down, don’t hesitate to come talk to me, so you can turn that frown upside—”

“Down,” Spike finished and held out his clenched claw.

Pinkie Pie smiled, and hoof bumped her friend. “You know it!” She nuzzled into his shoulder.

Spike smiled. For once, butterflies fluttered inside his fire-breathing body. Some might unfortunately be charred by its blazing wrath, but Spike didn’t care about that. There were more important things to do, like—

“Hey, Spike.” Pinkie Pie said, no longer hugging Spike.

Spike raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Could you do me a favor,” Pinkie Pie began. She threw her hooves in the air. “A really superdidooper favor?”

“I guess. I mean I don’t really have anything important going on other than wanting to hate myself to d—”

“Great!” Pinkie shoved a huge box in front of Spike. “So I need you to go deliver this totally-not-hollow cake to Rarity. It’s top secret intel that no pony else should see!”

“Top secret intel?” Spike asked, his brow threatening to leave his face. “This sounds more like a spy mission than a delivery, and I’m not too fond of being tossed into a mission without payment.”

Pinkie Pie grabbed Spike by his shoulders and hopped with him to the door. “You should be honored, Spike!” She nuzzled his cheek as she spoke. “Not only you’re delivering us from a cake-craving Rarity, but also you’re honoring the Pinkie Pie spy team!” She saluted the dragon, tears bursting out of her eyes. “I’m proud of you, Spike!”

Spike felt confusion wrap itself around his spine, but yet again, that’s what happened when Pinkie Pie was around him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t consider her in the first place: he was too confused to get the picture. Or maybe he’s bad at interpreting Pinkie Pie’s antics.

But he did hear one thing. And that involved food. “Cake craving?” he said with a resounding smack to his face. “When did she start this habit?”

Pinkie Pie shrugged. “I don’t know! Ask her!” she exclaimed, before shoving the poor dragon out of Sugarcube Corner. “See you later, Spike!”

“Bye…?” Spike started, before being cut off by the door slamming shut right in front of him. For a second, he could feel a gust of wind grazing his nose, filling him a chilling fear of what could have been. Or maybe it wasn’t fear. Maybe if his head was a tinsy bit further out, then he could had felt the pain of life once again: his nose breaking to the sounds of his screams piercing the heavens.

He could have ended it all there, but life had different plans for him. He needed do this errand to save Rarity from being possessed by cake. So he trudged on, his feet marking the only road he had ever known.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading!

σн σн σн σн σн

TheWraithWriter: Oh Lady Gaga.

♪♫♬ When She Does It Right (Thurr, Right Thurr) ♪♫♬

It took Spike no time at all to stroll through town. He took the long way around to the Carousel Boutique, because Pinkie Pie, although spontaneous, did not lie to her friends, and if she did, it usually was harmless. So to think that she would lie about having to keep the supposed ‘intel’ secret was something Spike had to keep in mind. Along his trek, he spotted a few ponies congregating next to a nearby building on his path. He kept to the shadows, jumping between backyards of ponies’ properties, before finally reaching his destination. With a few quick tap-tap-taps on the door, Spike notified Rarity of his presence as the door.

Or so he thought. He stood there for quite some time, before knocking again. He gave the door a few more stern taps, before growling in frustration. Unfortunately, on his growl, he kicked the door off its hinges. It was about time that door swung open and—

The dragon had stepped into the house and noticed something was off. Inside, he noticed that Rarity had not cleaned the living room table. Nor had she even cleaned the dishes in the kitchen sink. Those were two things that were unlike Rarity, as she strove for perfection in both her work and her life. There would be no reason for her to keep simply tasks like this unattended.

So he cleaned off the table, washed her dishes, and set the cake on the counter, like any good dragon would do, before setting off to find her. He tried upstairs, and found no evidence of any unicorn with a bit too much bounce in her mane. He looked back downstairs to see if she somehow passed him when he checked the upstair rooms. No dice there: the rooms were the same as always, except they were much cleaner due to Spike’s expertise.

So where could this unicorn have gone?

Suddenly, Spike jumped. The stairs had just creaked, and he was not on them.

“R-Rarity?”

He looked near the staircase and spotted a white door with a golden knob on it. Spike looked at the new door with a bit of intrigue. How could he have not seen such a thing? Did Pinkie Pie hit his head too on that hug of hers? Or did that crazy pony squeeze him hard enough to point of stopping his blood from flowing correctly to his brain?

He shrugged and reached for the knob, only to smash his fingers into it.

Spike winced, but somehow, the door just creaked open.

With a tilted head, Spike ducked into the depths of the new passage underneath Rarity’s staircase. He had no idea what was in store, but if it’s anything like Rarity, it’s probably some underground sweatshop where ponies begged to be freed for the sake of returning to their families.

But Spike couldn’t get ahead of himself. Rarity was a generous gal, not some slave driver, right?

He shook his head and continued down into this secret passage. It was very narrow and dark, with very few dull lights guiding his way. And the stairs were rickety. Spike was afraid he would possibly get himself killed on these weak boards; they sounded like they would give way and make him fall to his death. He could imagine that she also would have a sharp spike at the bottom of this stairwell, a place where his body would lay, as he writhed in pain and screamed in agony from the impalement of—

“Ohhh… touch me there, darling!”

He was about to take another step down, but that made him stop in his tracks, frozen, unable to comprehend that the mare that had captured his heart at a young age moaned like that. And Spike’s inner Death was not happy about hearing someone else… do her like that. So much that it sparked in his greed, something that he had not felt for a long time.

It made him race down the stairs, thirsty for blood of the pony that tried to tango with his muse. Tango with the mare of his life. Tango with—

“O-Oh, h-hey, Spike!”

Stunned was the most underwhelming word to use in this predicament. She was… actually, Spike had no clue what she was doing. But it wasn’t what he was thinking.

He was way off.

“Rarity, why are you…?”

Rarity, covered in what looked like cream, smiled at him. “Spike, I’m… sorry, you had to see this. I thought I made sure Pinkie would be much more discreet with our deals, but if she sent you, that means the other runner couldn’t make it.” She frowned. “I assume you would like to talk about this?”

“I… don’t know if I want to, Rarity,” Spike replied lamely, kicking one of the… empty bottles out of his way. He approached the cream-covered mare and tilted his head.

“I know, I know, dear, this may come as a shock to you. Yet again, Pinkie Pie was not thinking about the cause,” Rarity said. She growled in frustration, her eyes boggling. “Oooh that mare! I will have to discuss with her our terms of this agreement we have!” She sighed and put a cream-free hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “Dear, would you please help me pick up some of these bottles? I don’t want this place to be all dirty after what I’ve done.”

Spike gulped and nodded. He stepped away from her and started collecting a bunch of those empty bottles like the one he kicked. He wasn’t sure what they were used for, but he was curious as to why she would do such a thing. And why Pinkie, of all ponies, made him deliver something that he wasn’t supposed to know about. Maybe she just assumed that Rarity would be upstairs, knitting a dress, or downstairs eating some grub. But no… not like this; Pinkie didn’t account for a mare dressed in black with cream all over her.

Once the task of collecting stray bottles were done, the two walked up stairs, with Spike trailing behind while Rarity led the way. He didn’t want to be near her after seeing her doing… that with all that cream. He wasn’t used to seeing her so vulnerable, but at the same time, he was… indifferent to the whole thing. He couldn’t judge her for it because he had no idea what he had saw. But he knew one thing.

Black was Rarity’s color. Nopony else’s.

Mindlessly, Spike had wandered into Rarity’s kitchen. She was up there with him, smiling all the while. She had put her assortment of empty bottles on the table, so he decided to do the same.

“Thank you, Spike,” she said. “I’m grateful for your assistance. You truly are a great helper.”

Spike felt his heart throb at the compliment. “I’m always willing to help you, Rarity!”

That, made her frown for some reason. Spike had no idea why. She liked when he helped, didn’t she?

“I am aware of that, dear. I just… wish it didn’t have to be for this. You’re still young. You didn’t need your innocence ripped apart like that.”

The word ripped made him twinge for a second, but it also made his stomach churn. That wasn’t normal. “My innocence? What do you mean?”

Rarity blushed and looked away, her eyes peering at the bottles. “I… really do enjoy cake.” Then, she spotted the box and gasped. “Is that the cake!?”

Spike bobbed his head. “Yep! Pinkie said it was a very top secret thing that I should make sure no one else saw!” He watched her open the box with glee smeared on her face. “What’s so important about the cake?”

“It’s not the cake, dear! She just uses that as a codename.” She turned and smiled, her magic carrying several new bottles full of… “Buttercream is so delicious. Have you tried it?”

Spike facepalmed. “Rarity, so what I saw wasn’t what I really saw, was it?”

“I… don’t follow, Spike,” Rarity replied, twiddling her hooves.

“You don’t have like buttercream like that, do you?”

She made Spike’s confusion a reality. “I do. It’s feels so good when I rub it all over my p—”

“Don’t even say it,” Spike said, shoving his arm out and looking to the ground. “I’ll just take my leave and keep my dignity somewhere locked in a castle far, far away.”

The twiddling buttercream gal looked down at the ground in front of her hooves, a red blush still tickling her cheeks. “You’ll keep this a secret, right?”

Spike imagined Rarity being a vanilla type of mare. But he had never wanted to see this. “I’ll just bleach my brain clean of what I saw. No pony will know.”

She squee’d and hugged him close to her chest. “Thank you, Spikey! I’m so glad we’re friends!”

“Y-Yeah, friends.” He pushed her away and stepped towards the exit. “Make sure you wash up so… no one else sees you like that, okay?”

She nodded and clapped her hooves together. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this before, and—” She gasped. “Oh, can you do something for me?”

“Let me guess, this leads to another errand that may make me want to kill myself more—”

“Nonsense, I’m not into deathplay,” she replied, nonchalantly flipping her forehoof at him. “It’s more like a delivery to a customer of mine. She’s…” Rarity’s voice trailed off, her eyes flickering upstairs. “Pardon me, Spikey. I need to get the dress that you will need to give to my… informant.”

“Informant, I thought she was the customer?”

Rarity laughed rather forcibly. “Ha, ha, you don’t know the business of secrecy, do you Spike?”

“I think I just saw it fail for the first time,” Spike said, his voice dripping depression. “But maybe yours will do better?”

Her horn sparked to life. “You know it!” Her eyes shimmered in the blue sparks. “It’ll only take me one minute. Stay put, will you?”

“A-Always,” Spike reassured her. His voice nearly fumbled, like a horrible possession in a hoofball game, except his stomach was speaking something fierce, while his lungs were trying to recover from the tackle.

Fortunately for him, Rarity paid that no heed, like usual. She ta-ta’d her way up the stairs, shimming just right for him to see her tail flick the railing. He wasn’t sure if that was intentional, or if she’s still recovering from her massive buttercream high. Spike assumed the latter, but yet again, it could be just to make him think she’s a killer buttercream queen with a sweet tooth that’s a bit too explosive for his tastes.

He nodded, and leaned against the wall. “Hope I can vacate this from my mind so I don’t have bad dreams about her drowning herself in chocolate or something.”

And then he would have to call the emergency services, because she drowned in a supposed mudslide.

That made him shiver.

“Dear, are you alright? Is it cold in here?”

“N-NO!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I mean, no it’s not cold and I’m fine.”

“Oh,” Rarity replied lamely. She carried a dress in her magic. “Then take this to my customer. She’s very… bombastic, if you will.”

“If she’s anything like Rainbow Dash, I’d be shocked,” Spike replied, leaving Rarity blushing in his wake. “She is? Equestria is doomed.”

Rarity shook her head. “Spike, she’s not! It’s… complicated. Just meet her at this address,” she said, floating a piece of paper to the dragon’s free claw. “The time indicated will be when she arrives. She’ll be looking like she’s lost, when really she’s aware of her surroundings. Ask her how are the clouds in Cloudsdale. If she says that they’re always drifting, you’ll know she’s the one, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you, Rarity.” Spike slung the dress over his shoulders. “So, I’ll be seeing you sometime?”

“Yes… in different circumstances, I hope. Tell Twilight I said hi, will you?”

Spike nodded. “Of course.”

“Ta-ta, for now,” Rarity said with a brief wave. “Time to go take a long shower.”

That emphasis on long made Spike’s legs turn into jello. “Y-Yeah, y-you do that,” he sputtered, before rushing out the door.

Rarity could only smirk at the dragon’s speedy departure. “I’ll do more than just that.” She licked her lips. “Another round for mama!”

She sashayed up the stairs, leaving a bunch of empty bottles on her countertop and a dragon on a goose chase to find a mare fit for a frilly dress.

Author's Note

This is the most absurd the story gets. Get ready for the next couple of chapters. Shit’s about to get serious.

Dashing Through The Stream, Dealing With Her Dreams

Spike felt the tickling sensation of the frills mingling with his scales. Rarity hadn’t given him a protective covering for the dress, so those little additions were there to bother him for the rest of his trek. It peeved him that she didn’t even explain the general area of where this meeting place was. She just shoved the lengthy outfit in front of him, and then gave him a piece of paper to use as a way of finding the spot.

Those little annoyances didn’t even compare to that romp underneath the staircase. He never knew Rarity was that type of mare. Rarity’s been that type of gal to show some spunk when ponies didn’t get the memo that you don’t challenge a quirky fashionista, but those ponies don’t get to see that… sleek black leather get-up.

“Nonsense, I don’t do deathplay.”

And that line that she said. It made him feel worse than what he had felt before. He thought Pinkie had momentarily fixed him, but Rarity’s comment brought him down to the dirt again, not because he didn’t do deathplay, but the fact that she just waved off death as something to fantasize about made his stomach churn and his heart stop. Was it because of the fact that death was the endgame? Was it because Spike was just feeling that everytime he took a step and envisioned that last moment? Was…

Was it because he couldn’t see anything positive behind those purple eyes of hers?

He growled, those pearly whites showing in the final hours of daylight. His thoughts have lead him up and down on this crazy train ride, and now he’s hopefully going to his final destination, a station where he could rest, and give himself a breather. So far, it seems like it’s going to. It wasn’t some crazy errand like the others. It’s just delivering a dress, much like delivering a cake…

Spike gulped and pressed on, his claws carrying him through town. The day had been great, but now the excited fireball started to fall asleep, feigning rest with its orange glow. And so did ponies too. Spike had to make his escape, having to dodge ponies in order to get the cake delivered. Surely it wasn’t like the packed streets of Canterlot, but there were still ponies he had to worry about to get that package to Rarity’s place. That mission paled in comparison to this: only a couple ponies were out, and his body didn’t have the energy to just weave through the alleyways. Besides, Rarity didn’t tell him to be inconspicuous, so he just stuck out like a sore hoof.

So when Roseluck and Raindrops saw him walking with a dress slung over his back, he was sucked into a conversation that he didn’t know he had time for.

“Hey, Spike!” the two ponies said in unison.

He stopped, smiled, and waved. A technique practiced by male dragons since the creation of the dragon code.

“Glad to see you out and about, Spike,” Raindrops added with a smile. “Usually you’re cooped up in that castle, aren't cha?”

“Cooped up by choice, not by proxy,” Spike said. “I have to help the one who hatched me!”

Roseluck giggled. “That sounds like you.” She nudged Raindrops’ side as she spoke. “But Raindrops here is right. We don’t get to see you often. I thought Twilight just hogged you to herself to make sure she didn’t go insane.”

Spike tilted his head. Did Twilight hog him to herself?

But his thoughts weren’t heard. Raindrops just bounced off Roseluck’s comment. “Yeah, you gotta cut loose for yourself sometimes! I mean, if I didn’t take a moment to just kick back and relax on a cloud, I probably would’ve lost all my feathers by now!” She rolled her eyes. “That Rainbow Dash is such a slave driver.”

“That definitely sounds like her,” Spike mumbled. He shook his head rather rapidly, as if to make sure his brain wasn’t misfiring. “Look, um, I’d love to stay and chat, but I got this dress to deliver.” He looked between the two mares and smiled. “Would you two want to hang out sometime?”

The two mares surprised him. They nodded. “Sure!” they both said, releasing giggles into the air, a sound Spike would love to hear again.

“How about tomorrow night at Down the Hole? I heard they just added some hi-tech karaoke rooms!” Raindrops offered, her grin tenfold.

Roseluck looked at her friend, gobsmacked. “Karaoke rooms? I haven’t been to one of those since I visited Manehatten for a flower emporium!”

The two mares bickered back and forth, while Spike’s mind warped into a new dimension, where he had his claws around the two, having a great time. Words were popping up on a screen, their voices harmonizing together, and a share of drinks (his not alcoholic) all around—Spike couldn’t stop from getting the happy bug, grinning ear to ear for once in his two month battle with his inner Death.

“So, are you down, Spike?”

He heard Roseluck’s words, but his head had already nodded for him by the time he heard ‘down’. “Y-Yeah, sure!”

“Great!” Roseluck said, beginning to walk away. “Meet us tomorrow at the bar at seven, okay?”

“You bet,” Spike said.

The two mares gave him a wink, before they walked away, leaving Spike frozen, unable to comprehend that he just got a date with two mares while holding a dress.

Maybe he should hold dresses for a living and—

“Wait, did they say a bar?”

Time was a lost cause. Spike didn’t know whether it had been five minutes or twenty—he just knew he was at the location he needed to be, and he was the only one in the general vicinity of the property. The address had led him to a deserted mansion, located on the outskirts of Ponyville. It was stuck behind a large forest, whose old dead husks blanketed the landscape. He had to keep his eyes on the path sometimes, since the dirt had changed from brown to grey. It was like he was walking on gravel—something that he was definitely not used to walking on in a forest.

Now all he needed to do was wait. The plan was simple: lean against the rotting woodstock near the property, and wait until the informant arrived. But he wasn’t perfect, since the only dying lumber was right next to the entrance of the lot, where the gate swung creepily in the breeze, while he just sat there, leaning rather uncomfortably against the tree—he didn’t want to screw up the dress—wondering if his life was going to end right there due to a ghost coming out from the mansion just to haunt him for the rest of his life and—

“There’s no way!”

His ears perked up to the sound of a mare.

A mare with the raspiest voice in all of Ponyville.

“Rainbow Dash?”

The pegasus had paused in mid-flight, staring at Spike with an unhinged jaw. Spike could only help but think she was shocked at him being the only anything around. Or maybe…

Maybe she was the one who was meeting him?

And that made him nervous.

Spike gulped and stood up from his spot, his claw steadily holding onto the dress. “How are the clouds in Cloudsdale?”

“They’re always drifting…” Rainbow Dash said rather dejectedly, her hooves gently touching down while her wings sagged down to her sides. “Why the hay did Rarity send you?”

Spike kicked up some of the dirt. “I was over at her place, so she thought it’d be a good idea.”

Rainbow Dash frowned. “I thought Poptart was still running for her?”

“Poptart?” Spike asked, tilting his head. “Who is that?”

“Somepony from Canterlot who is known as the King of Oddjobs,” Rainbow replied, shaking her head. “Look, could I get my dress? There’s this dance I got to prepare for tonight and—”

“Wait, you’re going dancing?” Spike said, eyes wide as can be. “Since when do you dance?”

“Since Rarity knew about my liking for…” Rainbow began, only for her voice to fail her. The poor pegasus sat down in the dirt. “It’s a long story.”

Spike smiled and turned to his tree. “Might I interest you in a little chat by the tree?”

Rainbow looked at the poor guy with him and laughed. “Spike that tree is really in rough shape.”

As if whatever was above wanted to pull time’s chair, the tree lost a branch, sending a hunk of wood crashing down onto what remaining fence was by it.

The two cringed as they heard the white fence shatter into pieces. Spike opened his eyes first and looked at Dash. “On second thought…”

Dash shook her head. “I don’t mind sitting under it.”

“But Dash we just saw the tree—”

“I know, I know,” Dash said, rolling her eyes. “But it would be rare for a tree to do that twice.”

Spike was about to open his mouth, but he couldn’t find a rebuttal that would work. Her logic was solid. “Whelp, can’t argue with that!”

So the two sat underneath the dying tree, whose branch had clobbered the remaining fence beside them.

“Any shards under me?”

“Nope, Dash, you’re good.”

She sat down, laying right next to Spike, while the dragon leaned against the hunk of bark, his eyes drifting to the dress draped over his legs.

“May I ask why you put the dress over my legs?”

“It just felt right,” Dash replied. “Besides it would look weird if I used it as a canopy, and I could possibly damage it.”

Spike just shook his head rapidly. He couldn’t and shouldn’t question anything anymore. This world was too dysfunctional for him to understand it.

And it was a little more interesting that way.

The two watched the world around them simply exist. Clouds passed them by, while a gentle breeze tickled the treetops of the dead and living. It was Nature watching over them, something that Spike hadn’t felt since this whole debacle started. He could just breathe for a moment, and just enjoy his time that he had left.

“Hey, Spike?”

And he could spend his break from insanity with a friend in need.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you running for Rarity? Are you short on bits or something?”

Spike chuckled. “No, Twilight doesn’t short-shot me on my allowance.”

“Then why?” Rainbow looked up to him. “Doing stuff like this is very risky and stressful. Don’t know why she’d send you to do this kind of work.”

Spike could only shrug. “Like I said, I was over at her place. Had to drop off a cake for to Rarity’s place for Pinkie so…”

Rainbow giggled, something that Spike wasn’t used to. “So you’ve been stuck doing other ponies’ errands?” She sat her head down on the grass. “Sounds like you’ve had a hayday.”

Spike smiled. She was right, he did have a heck of a hayday. But now he was spending it with a friend who still had a story to tell.

“I have,” Spike replied. “So, about that story you owe me.”

Rainbow Dash shakily sighed. “Yeah, I guess I do owe you one, huh?” She shifted under the tree, her eyes gazing out over the field in front of her. “Spike, how much do you know about skywriting?”

“Well…” Spike remembered that Twilight had mentioned it once before, but it was nothing remarkable. She was diving into some old pegasus traditions when she got her wings, so Spike got to hear about her findings including the less than appropriate traditions. “Just a little. I know pegasi start doing it after they get their—” He gasped. “What happened after you got your cutiemark?”

“A month or so after, Dad got me interested in skywriting. For a while, I tried it, only to fail miserably at it.” Her eyes glazed over the sky, while her lips jittered. “I… did feel the love for it, though. It felt like I was dancing in the sky, much like how the Wonderbolts do their routines. That’s why I like the Wonderbolts so much, and why I like stunt flying now. Makes me feel like I’m dancing again.” She craned her neck over to Spike, just to see his expression. And she was right, he was all sorts of confused.

“So how does this relate to you getting into dresses?”

She rolled her eyes and looked out at the fields. “I’m a mare, Spike. When the girls get all dressed up, I still want to do that. And when we went to the Gala in our dresses, it just felt… it felt right, which is something that I never felt before.” A red blush tinged Dash’s cheeks. “So I went dancing after that in secret. Rarity would give me a couple more dresses everytime I modeled with her, but eventually that deal fell through since she didn’t need my measurements anymore.” Her eyes closed and she blew deeply. “And ever since then, I go to this club now and again when I get the urge to dance. I mean, I can just fly to satisfy the urge, but… but it just isn’t the same as intensely dancing for six hours straight.”

Spike could get the sentiment, but not the six hours straight ordeal. Maybe three at most. He remembered when he was so enamoured with Rarity that he was head over heels with her. Every minute, every hour, every day he got to spend with her was like floating in a never-ending stasis of happiness. Now, it wasn't like that at all. Sure he felt a little closer to her, but Rarity didn't feel the same as him.

He just… moved on, he supposed. But a little time spent with her still gave him that happy high he looked for in life—

—except when she’s covering herself in buttercream.

“I get you, Dash,” Spike replied, cringing.

“You do?” she said, smiling at the drake.

If Dash didn’t see him grimace, she was blind as a bat. “Yeah, I had that sort of feeling when I was with Rarity.”

“But now?” Dash asked, raising a brow.

“Let’s just say, I need some bleach to filter some of the… more recent memories of her.”

Rainbow Dash flipped over and started laughing, and laughing, and laughing, until her body was fully captured in a never-ending loop of surreal happiness.

And boy was it contagious, even Spike was joining in.

The two’s laughter subsided, both panting with red smeared on their cheeks. Spike caught up first though, bringing the happiness to the forefront.

“Boy did I need that.”

Dash sputtered a chuckle. “Hehe, s-same.” She laid her head back down on the ground.

And now it felt like time was passing again. The two laid there next to each other, just relaxing in the world of a time where a mansion was once full of life. A time long gone.

Then, Spike heard the call.

“Hey, Spike?”

“Hmm?”

He didn’t even have to open his eyes to imagine Dash’s smile.

“Thanks. I’m glad you took that well.” Spike opened his eyes to see Dash standing on all fours, stretching her wings. “I’m happy that I can say that to somepony else without them judging me harshly.”

Spike nudged Rainbow Dash in the side. “No problem, Dash. We’re friends, so I’ll only judge you just a bit.”

That earned him a wing snapping on his head. “Dork.”

Spike faked a cry of pain and grinned at the mare. “Truly, but I’m not ashamed.”

Ashamed in death—

“So, what are you doing now, Spike?”

And for the first time, he didn’t know. No one needed his assistance. No one needed him to uncover the mystery of Pinkie Pie, or go deliver more ‘cake’ to Rarity, or delivering a dress to a closet dancer. He was free.

“I don’t know. I guess, lounging about?”

Rainbow Dash facehooved. “Come on, you don’t even have someone to hang out with?”

His reaction was almost immediate. He just shook his head. “Nope.”

“Ugh,” Rainbow said in disgust. She got up and started walking away from the tree. “Come on, we need to get you doing something with somepony, because being by yourself can be deadly.”

And so much for being free. “Who do you have in mind?”

“I know just the pony,” Rainbow Dash said, smirking. “Come on, hop on my back! We’re going to go visit a stallion I know!”

Spike sighed. “You mares and your stallions…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! I swear it was a joke—”

Getting knocked upside the head never felt good.

Author's Note

Wraith is a great editor!

Apples Make Strange Bedfellows

Rainbow Dash had been flying for a little while now. He remembered when she took off, and soared into the skies. It was a bit more exhilarating than he previously thought. An adrenaline rush had coursed through him to the point of no return, something that he loved to feel. Spike wished he had wings like hers, but a different color. Purple would be nice.

Maybe Twilight could just clone hers onto Spike’s back.

He shook his head. Pony wings on a dragon’s body screamed unacceptable to Spike, especially Twilight’s. Her pretty purple princess wings were the size of him alone! So he made note to discuss thoroughly with Twilight at some point to devise a way for him to get wings, one that he hoped wouldn’t kill him in the process, or worse, make him an extremely deformed corpse.

Spike closed his eyes and sighed as he felt brisk air tickling his scales. Rainbow Dash made his inner Death feel so… removed. Spike was more worried about not dying than anything—well, except this talk he was supposed to have with a certain stallion. Whoever it was, hopefully they don’t ask for anything. All Spike wanted to do was relax, kick back, and watch the sunset without anyone else stomping in to ruin his relaxation.

“Hey Spike?”

“Hmm?”

Spike opened his eyes.

“We’re here.”

Slowly Dash had descended without him knowing. She was hovering over the entrance to Sweet Apple Acres and—

“Why are we here, Dash?”

“To see two special ponies,” she replied rather bluntly, before sticking her landing. She hopped once more to make sure she wouldn’t lose her balance, and turned to Spike with a smile. “Thank you for riding Daring Dash Airlines! Please make sure you don’t fall flat on your face as you leave, because that would be totally not cool.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Work on your voice, Dash.”

“It’s getting there!” She paused and grabbed the dress with her teeth. “That’s mine, bub.”

He felt the whiplash from her snatching the dress right out of his hands. He couldn’t feel his fingers. “This is what I get for holding your dress.”

“Wait, so you weren’t stealing it?” She tilted her head.

Spike facepalmed with his numb claw. “Why would I need a dress?”

“I don’t know, maybe you like to crossdress?”

“Not sure ‘bout that, Dash. I never heard of a dragon crossdressin’ before.”

The two turned to the new voice, both wearing confused expressions. “Applejack?”

“Yep! Told ya I was meetin’ you at the gate, Dash.”

“Must’ve whizzed over my head and crash landed into Twilight’s castle,” Dash said as she approached her friend. She held out a hoof and smirked. “Glad you agreed to help me with this.”

Spike gawked. Helping her with what?

“No problem!” Applejack replied jovially, bumping hooves with her friend. “You been talkin’ ‘bout all this dancin’ and such, so givin’ ya a quick crash course on barn dancin’ shouldn’t be too much of a problem.” She gave Rainbow Dash a mighty smirk. “Unless you go surprisin’ me with your two left forehooves.”

“Oh puh-lease, AJ! I could dance circles around you!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, pushing out her chest. “I don’t go to the club just to drink myself to death while watching others dance!”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Clubs are different than formal barn dances. We don’t dance in fancy circles, we dance in squares.”

“I can dance in squares!” Rainbow Dash shot back. “Just you wait and see! I—”

“Um… I’d hate to butt in on this sexual tension, but could you do me a favor, Applejack?”

The mare in question turned to Spike with a quizzical look on her face. “Yes?”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Oh, is that all ya wanted?” Applejack asked, which earned her a stern nod from Spike. She smiled, and pointed a hoof behind her. “Just head on over to the Southern fields. He’s been plowin’ for the whole day today!” Her smile slowly diminished. “I wish he’d take a break every so often. Farmin’ has been runnin’ him plum dry.”

Rainbow Dash bumped into Applejack’s side, giving her friend a quick nuzzle. “That’s why I brought Spike along! Since I’m busy heading to the barn dance tonight—”

“You never told me about this barn dance,” Spike interrupted.

Rainbow Dash drew out a very irritated sigh. “It wasn’t important to say, that’s all.”

“Okay…” Spike’s lips wormed into a small ‘o’ shape. “Well, you two have fun doing... whatever you’re doing. I’ll go see what Big Mac’s doing.”

“Alright, cya!” Rainbow Dash shouted, waving with her wing, earning her a hoof smack by her good friend. “Ow, what was that for?”

“How about you show how you’d use those wings to dance circles around me?”

“Oh you’re so on.”

Spike made his way down to the South fields, leaving Applejack and Rainbow Dash alone in their dancing escapades.

A gentle breeze caressed the treetops of the apple orchard, leaving the field of which Big Mac was plowing completely void of Nature’s touch. He stood there, fighting the sweat on his face, preparing to pull that plow again for another pass. Spike could only see him from afar, wondering how he managed to just… work without passing out. It was something that Spike wished he had. If he could, then he wouldn’t have to worry about being tired. He could just work and enjoy what he loved doing, without anything hindering him.

Spike emerged from the forest of apple trees, and waved to the Big Mac, who jolted and gazed at the dragon with wide eyes.

“Spike?”

Spike smiled and approached his bro. “Hey, Big Mac. Long time, huh?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac replied, hoisting the yoke over his head.

“Busy with the fields?”

“Eeyup.”

“And dealing with Applejack?”

He nodded rapidly to that one. “Eeyup.”

Spike grimaced. “That bad?”

Big Mac took pause, his eyes drifting to the treetops around the two, before he shook his head. “Nope. She just… been workin’.”

That was Big Mac’s trademark: short sentences or one word responses. Nothing more, nothing less. Spike couldn’t expect a longer conversation than the ones he’s had with Big Mac in the past.

“So whatcha come here for?”

The question brought Spike back to the conversation. “Rainbow Dash, primarily.” He rolled his eyes. “She thought I needed to hang out with someone instead of moping around and relaxing.”

While Big Mac chewed on his response, Spike thought about it. Was he moping when he spoke with Dash? He felt like he was waiting for that informant that Rarity wanted him to meet more than anything. It was his goal to be a helpful dragon, after all.

So why did she say he was moping?

“That sounds… rough, Spike.”

That got Spike confused. “You think so?”

“Eeyup. That’s somethin’ I struggle with too.” The big red stallion beckoned him with a hoof. “I got an idea. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Why are we going for a walk?”

Big Mac sighed. “Walkin’ in the orchard is much better than standing out in the fields.” He nudged the little drake. “Besides, my sister’s thinkin’ I don’t take breaks, so I guess we need to prove her haysay wrong.”

Spike chuckled. “Guess so. Alright, lead the way.”

Big Mac tossed his yoke around one of the plow handles, before leaving with Spike through the orchard. As they walked, big red apples were tucked in the branches of the trees, dangling as the wind still kissed the tops of them, and the sun praised the fruits of the land with its orange glow. It was…

“Magical, ain’t it?”

Spike bobbed his head. “Was just thinking about this place. Wonder why I don’t swing by to take a quick nap once in a while.”

Big Mac laughed. “I think you get why Rainbow decides to sleep here.”

“Partially,” Spike began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get the reason why, I just don’t see why she thinks a tree is comfortable to sleep on.”

“Nestin’, probably.” Big Mac stopped and looked up at the trees. “Birds like ‘em so much, that they put their young up there, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t like ‘em.” He rubbed his hoof against the grain of the path they were on. “Better than sleeping in the dirt, where their wings get all messed.”

“Never thought of it that way,” Spike said. Indeed, he hadn’t. Not that he was wanting to think about pegasi laying in trees. He was more…

“A really superdidooper favor?”

...worried about other problems.

“Hey Big Mac?”

Big Mac let out a low, gravelly hum. “Eeyup?”

“Why am I so worried?”

“Oh, can you do something for me?”

“Tell me what errands you need done, and I’ll get them done.”

“Probably because you’re so busy,” Big Mac replied lamely.

Was that it? Was he just extremely busy? Was he just wanting to help other ponies?

Spike couldn’t help it. His fingers were just numb to the possibilities. He couldn’t just stop thinking that he was trying to help others, because that all he wants to do. He has to help the others that hatched him, helped him, made him who he was—it was the dragon code, and it was his goal to abide by it.

So he did, and that was how it always been.

“Yeah…”

“Seems like you’re not so sure,” Big Mac said, looking at the little dragon. “You wanna talk about it?”

“What’s got you so upset?”

Spike shook his head. “I’m not wanting to talk about it.”

He could feel the disappointment coming through. He knew that Big Mac would just push it aside, tell him that he’d wait, and it would irritate him, much like how Twilight would just—

“You know you could talk to me about anything.”

It made Spike visibly grimace, which sparked Big Mac to stop in his tracks and shoot Spike an inquisitive look: one with a brow threatening to leave his face. His right forehoof clamped down on the solid earth, building a plume of dust in its wake.

“Spike,” Big Mac sighed. “Come take a seat by the tree here.”

Spike watched as the stallion propped himself against the tree’s stump, much like how Rainbow Dash did a little while ago. So he followed suit, reluctantly, his claws pit-pattering against the dirt before taking refuge in the grass beside his friend.

The two just watched the trees dance in silence.

And then Big Mac spoke.

“The worst thing to do is to have everything just bubble up inside you, like when ya shake some cider up in a bottle and watch it burst the cork right off. Problems just keep comin’, and they keep shakin’ ya up until you can’t be shook no more.” He paused and rubbed his back against the tree. “Feelin’ this way won’t help ya none. So why not just let loose?”

Spike tilted his head. “But didn’t Applejack say you don’t take breaks?”

Big Mac threw a hoof at that comment. “She don’t know I do it, so I can make sure she don’t see me no different than Pa.” He shook his mane a bit, before leaning his head against the bark of the tree. “Pa’s a hardworkin’ pony. He don’t take breaks. He always said, ‘I’d have it done while you’re sittin’ there thinkin’ about it!’” A smile wormed onto Big Mac’s face. “He’s a great pony. That’s why I want AJ to see me that way too.”

“I don’t think she wouldn’t see you any less great if she saw you taking a break,” Spike said, scooting closer to the stallion. “She told me she was worried about you being tired all the time.”

The smile dissolved from existence. Only hurt gave residence, a hurt that caused the giant to frown. “I guess so. Maybe we both gotta show ourselves more, huh?”

Spike didn’t get it. Show himself more? What does he mean?

“If you’re feeling down, don’t hesitate to come talk to me, so you can turn that frown upside—”

“Down…”

“Huh? You say somethin’?”

Spike waved his claws. “Just thinking out loud.”

Big Mac playfully nudged the dragon with his hoof. “Come on, don’t be that. Let loose, remember?”

“Alright, alright,” Spike said, chuckling. “I was just thinking about Pinkie and how she told me I shouldn’t be feeling the way I do, and that if I felt that way again, she’ll help me turn my frowns—”

“—upside down?” Big Mac finished.

“Y-Yeah.”

A cloud overhead, gray as can be, stayed above the two pals.

“And what have you been feeling?”

Spike felt his heart tug. Should he say it? Would Big Mac just shove it aside? Would there be a reason to say it? Spike knew he had said it before, and ponies have reacted to him, pitying him and such, but was it worth it to get another pity call?

He sighed and opened his mouth.

“I hate myself.”

The words echoed in Spike’s ears, while his inner Death smiled. He wondered if they were just going to haunt him just for Death’s entertainment, or until the cows came home. Maybe if he wasn’t so strung on getting killed, he wouldn’t have this problem and—

“Eeyup, I hate myself too, sometimes.”

Those words hit Spike harder than any fastball that Celestia would ever throw at his skull.

“Y-You do?”

Big Mac nodded. “Eeyup. Hate not being able to do more with my family because of who I am.” He cracked his neck slightly. “I also hate not being able to help Apple Bloom out with her homework. AJ works with her most of the time. Wish I could understand it so I could help her out too.”

Spike looked down and twiddled his claws. What could he say to that? What could he say about himself? What...

The dragon growled, gritting his teeth. “W-Why? Why do I do this?”

“Well, for the past two months, I’ve grown to hate myself, to the point of having no choice but to consider my options.”

“Because you don’t know where to go. So ya just let it fester on up, because someone’s gonna tell ya that they’re sorry, that they’re not happy that you’re feelin’ this way, and that you need help, but they don’t know where you should go either, because they ain’t you.”

He understood. Big Mac understood everything.

“So what do you do?”

“I just work. It helps me cope.” He let out a huge grin. “Apples just… apples make everything better for me. That’s why I work a lot. And that’s why I take a few moments to just… take in this place.”

The cloud slowly drifted away, while the trees danced and danced and danced.

“I’ve been tryin’ to free up more time at the end of the day to play with Apple Bloom. Granny ain’t happy about it though, she gets a bit too grumpy at night and just wants to sleep, while AJ just wants Apple Bloom to get her homework done, so she don’t have to stay up with her doin’ math problems. Too bad for them though, Apple Bloom needs some big brother time too.”

Spike smiled.

“So you’re saying I just need to find a way to cope?”

“Eeyup. Cope and relax. Find a way to make life more manageable. And ya gotta let loose sometimes. Otherwise, you’ll turn into someone you’re not.”

“Alright. I think I’ll try doing that,” Spike said, before curling his fingers into a ball and offering his claw for a fist-bump. “Thanks, Big Mac.”

Big Mac returned the gesture with his hoof and got up. “You’re welcome, Spike.” He turned to the dragon. “Now let’s get ya back home before the girls wonder where you’re—”

“SPIKE!”

The world shook, causing apples to rain from the branches above. Spike shielded himself from the apples with his arms, while Big Mac stood his ground, the apples simply ricocheting off his back.

“—at.”

Author's Note

If you can't tell, I really love Big Mac's character.

Also, Twilight's great.

Twilight's Mad and Starlight's Ironclad

Twilight stalked towards the two. She looked like she was full of rage, and Spike had no idea why. He had been out helping other ponies like he usually did, while trying to find a way to make himself feel better. With Big Mac’s advice, he could only get even better now, letting the real him slowly come out. So why would she look like this?

“Spike, we’re leaving.”

Spike began to open his mouth, but Big Mac craned his neck to Spike and shook his head. “I’ve heard that tone before. Don’t argue with her.”

“B-But Mac—”

“Just go. Everythin’ will be fine.”

Big Mac smiled and walked away, probably back to the plow to get back to work, leaving him to a wolf named Twilight.

Spike watched him leave, as the trees did one final dance, before he turned to the enraged princess and nodded. “Okay.”

And the flames slowly turned to a smoldering mess, something that Spike knew was still a sign of bad news, a calm before the next wave of death.

The walk home had been quiet. Not a word was said by either party. Spike was too busy walking a bit ahead of Twilight in hopes of avoiding her. He was worried that she’d blow another fuse and make a scene. All that he felt were her eyes glaring daggers at him. She probably was wanting him to turn around in hopes of getting a good glimpse of his discomfort, but all she got to see was that green spine on his head, and his purple scales glisten in the moonlight.

But when they arrived at the castle, Spike knew there was a disturbance in the force. The doors weren’t open, and it was up to Twilight to raise her voice just to get inside.

“Guards! Open up!”

The huge double doors swung open, revealing two guardsponies with very happy yet forced grins. “Welcome back, your highness.”

The two bowed at her as she progressed through the door. She didn’t dismiss them for bowing. She just walked past. Why? She’d always tell them to not bow for her. She wasn’t a Princess like Celestia, she was just the same old Twilight.

So what changed?

Spike didn’t know, but he was worried about finding out, so he slowly proceeded in behind, much to the guards’ confusion.

Inside, Twilight had turned and watched him enter. Her face still wore an expression of unhappiness, but she didn’t look like she was about to bust out her royal voice again. Besides, he remembered the first time she used it, all the windows in the castle broke. That was a pretty expensive fix.

Twilight sighed. “Let’s go upstairs and talk about this.”

“O-Okay,” Spike said nervously. “Am I…?”

Twilight shook her head. “No, you’re not. I’m just… a bit irritated and—”

“Whoa, what turbulence caused Twilight’s hair to do that?”

The new voice made Twilight nearly jump out of her regalia. “Starlight?”

Spike’s second best friend jumped into the hallway, smiling. “Just kidding,” she said with a giggle. “I had to throw you two off because you both looked like you’ve been through hell and back, and I wasn’t going to bust out one of Twilight’s old albums tonight to prove that.”

Cringing wasn’t something that Spike was favoring, but he certainly did after hearing her mention Twilight’s old music albums. Hell and Back was certainly not a good track from her.

Meanwhile, Twilight rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say I got extremely irritated not knowing where Spike was.”

Starlight’s smile slowly washed away as she approached her friends. “Spike knows how to take care of himself. He’s always helping everypony with stuff that needs to be done. And that includes helping you!” She nudged Twilight. “I mean, if you didn’t have Spike around, trying to organize your shelving units would take up most of the day!”

Twilight frowned. “You’re not wrong… even if you are trying to joke about it. And I know Spike can take care of himself.” She looked over at Spike with a weak smile. “I just get worried sometimes, you know?”

“Hey Big Mac?”

“Eeyup?”

“Why am I so worried?”

He heard the echo again, making the poor dragon shiver in place.

“Yeah, you’re a very unhealthy worrywort, much like how I tend to be very unhealthy with my choices of food.”

Spike laughed. “All’s fair in love and gluten.”

Twilight flicked a few stray hairs of her mane from her face. “Look, I know I worry, but I’m serious! I just…” Her voice trailed off, looking at Spike with the most downtrodden look he had ever seen. Her ears had fallen against her skull, matching her already upset gaze and lip-curled downcast. “I just hate when you’re not around, Spike. It worries me!”

His laugh fell silent. His heart drummed to a calm metronome, but his smile became blank as a fresh new canvas. “Yeah…”

“Yeah?”

Spike nodded. “I know you’re serious. I just don’t know when you’ll act on that feeling.”

“Act on that feeling?” Spike could hear Twilight’s teeth grind that word to death. “I’ve been trying to, but you don’t let me!”

He didn’t let her. No, he couldn’t let her, for her sake—she wouldn’t understand. She’s a Princess of Friendship. That’s all. She’ll pity him and not let him get a word in, like always.

“Because you don’t understand.”

The Princess held her head with her forehooves. They were shaking, and shaking, and shaking, while time ticked, and ticked, and ticked. It felt like hours when she finally veered out of her frustration, and said those words that made Spike’s gut twist and turn:

“Then let me understand, because not knowing where you were after hearing you were having trouble with yourself made me… wonder if you were still alive and—”

“Wait, why haven’t I heard of any of this?” Starlight butted in.

Spike wanted to say something to her before, but there just wasn’t any time, or, rather, there wasn’t the right time to do it. Twilight was a hoofstep away, always, and Starlight latched herself to that mare’s path, a path that led to reformation and progress that didn’t help understand who he was.

A path that he didn’t want to be blindly following anymore.

Spike knew two expectant gazes were upon him now, waiting for him to answer, but he wasn’t the type of dragon to tell mares like these two all about his problems. It was already a huge deal that he opened up to Big Mac and Rainbow Dash, two ponies who he valued in his life. Big Mac was just the best pony he could have ever met: wise when he needed to be, supportive in the background the next. Meanwhile Dash was a whole different case. Although she was a mare, she just… acted like a stallion. Spike considered her being a dude who looked like a lady, so it was just easier to say to her.

Unlike Big Mac and Rainbow Dash, these two mares, the bestest friends that had ever graced his life, couldn’t know about his problems. He didn’t want to throw his friendship away because they pitied his existence, wallowed in his misery, and forced his hand when he had nothing to fold in the first place. He was stuck playing a deadly game, and the only way to continue was to contribute to the pot of greed. But all Spike had was a nearly blank script that was scribbled on by misfortune, a little glimpse he called his life.

Misfortune was good company. Or, well, so Spike thought. It kept him falling back to it, loving its company for so long, that he even missed it when it was gone, because he kept hating himself, hating who he was and—

The blurred world sharpened into focus again. Twilight and Starlight still wore expressions of worry. They grew closer to him, and all he did was stand there, staring off into the realm behind them.

He coughed, and sheepishly smiled at them. “Sorry, got spaced out there. I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “C-Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? I don’t want to have anyone interrupting us.”

Twilight nodded. “Of course. How about my study? The guards know not to enter there, so it’ll be a nice place to chat.”

“Okay,” Spike said, nodding. Starlight followed suit.

And together, the three began their journey, embarking on a trip to Twilight’s study. Unfortunately for Spike, it was extremely nerve-wracking. Each step felt like he was walking on hot coals, something that only happened when the dragon knew he was going to get a lecture. And Spike was not a fan of lectures.

He was used to the fire and the flames of her words. After all, he was a dragon, and an assistant to one of the most powerful beings in all of Equestria. What he wasn’t used to was the pain of a lifetime lost in the echo, something that he would have to carry on through each lecture he had the pleasure to witness.

The three entered the study. Spike was last to enter, hobbling into the small room. Once they were in, the door was smacked shut against its frame. Spike jolted at the noise, but what made him stumble towards a nearby table was the sound of Twilight’s horn birthing a spell of silence. It always made his ears pop, since magic had a slightly different effect on him, which always turned him to hiding, cowering behind a bookshelf or, in this case, under a nearby table.

He could feel Starlight’s gaze, her eyes trembling in the light. But what began to overwhelm Starlight’s emotions was Twilight, whose intense glare burned his heart. Why was she like this?

Spike could only ponder this for a few seconds, before the spell burst to life. The bubble ensnared the three in its grasp, leaving no choice for Spike to hold his position and stay put.

And so he did, as the lecture began—

“Spike, please… tell me what’s wrong.”

The curled dragon, whose knees were clicking and clacking together, poked his head out from his hiding place. “Nothing. I’ve just been feeling a bit under the weather, that’s all.”

“That’s not what you told me this morning,” Twilight replied with a raised brow. “You told me that someone was telling you to kill yourself.”

"I’m pretty close to snapping.”

Spike shook his head. “No, that was just spur of the moment. You know, like one of those things you say when you have a massive headache, and you say it’s killing you.”

“Then… what’s really bothering you?”

The dragon paused, before letting out a shaky sigh. “Just feeling down. Apparently Rainbow Dash decided to let it rain on my parade.”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “I’ve had that experience once. It was a torrential downpour that day, and I wanted to make sure none of my notes got wet.” The memory of the drenched notes made Starlight frown. “I will miss those notes. All the ink just faded to yellow.”

“Are you sure that’s not just piss—”

“Twilight! I said it was rain! Wasn’t that a clue?” Starlight said through the mist of the situation.

Twilight sighed. “No, those little inferences go over my head.” She shook her head. “Regardless, if you’re feeling down, you should tell me about it. I told you I’m willing to lend you an ear.”

“But I have been talking about it, but all I’ve gotten was static!” Spike shouted. “I… I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“Then tell me about it,” Twilight snarled. “If we keep dancing around in circles about this, we’re never going to be able to help you!”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it!”

Twilight frowned. “Why don’t you want to?”

“Because, it’s not something I can tell you!”

“But aren’t we family? Family helps each other through thick and thin, and I’m done letting this fall to the wayside. I’m not going to push this aside anymore, not while you’re hurting alone!”

She had done it. She had thrown down the family card, and now he was left to scramble for a solution in hopes of salvaging a friendship, something that Spike was not a fan of. But what choice did he have? If he just slid a different excuse under that rug, it’ll be compound interest on a loan that he would not be able to pay back in time.

He looked to Starlight for something, an inkling, but her gaze fell short, sealing his fate. Slowly, his gaze lifted to the Princess of Friendship, who looked like she was on the edge of eternity with tears running down her cheeks, and a single word left his lips, one that he never thought of saying until now:

“No.”

“P-Pardon?”

Spike shook his head and got up on his feet. “We’re not family by blood, but you’re my best friend Twilight, next to Starlight, Big Mac, Rainbow Dash…” He twiddled with his claws. “The list goes on. I… couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be pitied for what I got going on in my head. I don’t want to be seen as a burden—”

Twilight looked absolutely furious, but downtrodden in her gaze. Her teeth were clenched, and her eyes were burning flames—but as the tears fell, Spike thought: how could it have been possible? How could she be mad at him for what he admitted? It was the truth: they weren’t family by blood. Maybe by fortune, by destiny. She was his best friend, and he was her number one assistant. There was no room for error with that.

So why was the room heating up?

Why were the thoughts in his head telling him to die?

Why were there two Twilights and two Starlights?

Why was the floor getting closer to his face?

“Spike! Spike! Starlight get… hospital while I… Celestia!”

The words were lost on Spike as the world crumbled around him, swallowing him whole.

Spike woke up.

He looked to his right, and to his left using just his eyes. The room he was in was pure white. The walls had nothing on them, not even a picture that would clue him in on where he was. Nope, just white like a void, like a bright light that would keep him blind to his whereabouts. However, when he looked down…

He gasped. The dragon was chained upright against the wall. He couldn’t move his head to see the room in full. He couldn’t move his arms or legs—the cold chains kept him tightly restrained, frozen in place. And the harness around his body made the blood in his body turn cold, including his poor tail, wedged between discomfort and disharmony.

Spike could only wonder what had happened to him to get himself into this situation.

“Oh my gosh!”

The excited voice made Spike’s shock grind to a halt. He heard hooves shuffle into the room. Whoever it was probably was looking at him in amusement or something. But what she said clued him in as to where he was.

“I need to get Doctor Hooves and the other nurses!”

He was in the hospital in chains, and he was about to be told why. Spike couldn’t wait to hear how he screwed up this time.

Author's Note

And we have ended the first arc. Moving onto the more serious stuff.

Thanks to TheWraithWriter for helping me make this story less shitfic-y. We're about to fucking tackle some hardcore stuff.

inb4 someone says I'm taking from Blonde Moments [BloodyLastWords].

Why Am I Here?

“You weren’t lying, Nurse Tenderheart. Seems the patient has finally joined the land of the living.”

An irritated snort made Spike eye three ponies entering the room. The first two were mares that donned white caps with a red cross stitched on the front, while the third looked like an evil scientist with a neck brace strapped around the stallion’s neck. Spike knew who they really were: nurses and the torture specialist disguised as a doctor. Fillies and colts had told horror stories of this “doctor’s” atrocities using his signature device known as a stethoscope. The ice cold touch of the instrument of death against a pony’s neck was a reality Spike did not want to witness. But he had no choice: he was at the stallion’s mercy, chained to a wall with a harness strapped to him. So if he tried it, Spike could perish.

Yet this was not his only worry. Spike also worried about the nurses. Primarily the blue mare, whose name the doctor dropped rather conveniently. She had entered before, crying out for her comrades to come to her aide. It was—

His train of thought careened to a halt when he saw the mare smiling at him.

“It’s okay, Spike. Doctor Hooves isn’t going to pulverize you with his dog collar.”

The doctor closed his eyes and took off his stethoscope. “You nurses and your jokes about my stethoscopes. No wonder why foals run and hide behind their mothers!” He shook his head and mirrored the blue mare’s expression. “Glad to see you alive again, Spike. We’ve been waiting for this day.”

“We?”

“Well, by we, I mean me and these two nurses. Not sure about the rest of the staff—HEY!”

Spike laughed as Nurse Redheart, the only pony he was personally familiar with, walloped the poor doctor in the noggin. “Stop teasing him and let’s get to work, Doctor!” she said, snarling at him. “We’ve got a lot of sick ponies in today, and I don’t want to remind you about what happened last time we got behind…”

Nurse Tenderheart giggle-snorted. “Ah-ha, remember when Doctor Hooves got his head stuck in one of the bins full of—”

“Don’t remind me,” the doctor said, facepalming. He carefully walked over to a nearby countertop in shame. “I do not need these... painful memories harming my work performance, Nurse Tenderheart.”

Nurse Tenderheart was about to respond, but Nurse Redheart was a snappy, feisty mare, who did not care about her doctor’s shenanigans. “Spike, I’ll let this stallion discuss with you about your diagnosis while Tender and I help get you down from the wall.”

Before Spike could interject, the doctor let out a painful, yet exaggerated moan and turned to Nurse Redheart. “You have wounded me with that sly commentary, Nurse Redheart, but do not worry, I will be the one who will prevail in the end!”

“So much for happy endings,” Redheart said with a hard eye roll.

Spike tried so hard to keep himself in line, but that comment sent him spiraling down a staircase of laughter, with him sliding down until the very end.

“Careful, Spike, you might cough up a lung with the way you’re laughing.”

The dragon calmed to a mere chuckle. “It’s hard when you feel like you’re living in a world full of maniacs.”

“We’ll see about that in your charts…” The doctor peered at the clipboard on the counter. “Well, looks like I may have to give you a full diagnostic review. Your chart is a doozy!”

“That bad?” Spike asked.

“Let’s just say, you’re going to realize a lot about yourself in the next few hours, if you choose to believe it, that is.”

If he chose to believe it? “What do you mean?”

“Well, do you believe you are in the same day or the next day?”

That question made Spike pause for a brief moment. The doctor definitely put him on the spot, but it felt like a no brainer, since he just passed out a few hours ago. The chains were just a byproduct of his nasty sleepingwalking, nothing more. “The next day?”

The doctor tilted his head. “Why do you sound so unsure?”

Spike shrugged. “I guess with how you worded it, it sounds like a trick question.”

The words had just tumbled out of his mouth. And now he couldn’t pick them back up, even if he tried.

And the doctor picked them up, and smirked. “You’re right. Because both would’ve been wrong.” He flipped the page on his clipboard. “It’s been… a month and three days since your arrival.”

“Did you have to g—”

The rest of Nurse Redheart’s quip fell on deaf ears. Spike couldn’t believe it. It had been a month, but it felt like the same day! “How could this…?”

Doctor Hooves frowned. “Well, I was getting to that, but Nurse Redheart wanted to discuss my—”

“Doctor, please. Cut to the chase,” Nurse Tenderheart butted in. “He needs to know.”

He frowned, and looked at the dragon with glassy eyes. “You have this… condition, that very few dragons have that…” He gripped the chart tightly in his hooves, before tossing it in the air. “Drat! This medical language baffles me! Look, you have what’s called draconic standstill, a condition that could be a cross between a coma and a neurotic form of sleepwalking.”

Spike felt the first chain fall flat on the ground, the padlock clicking and clacking against the hospital’s white tile floor. “I-I do?”

Nurse Redheart nodded. “Yes, it’s a condition that only one in thousand dragons have. Only a few dragons have been affected by it, but thanks to Twilight’s quick thinking, we were able to keep you contained during the first week that you were…” She paused, and looked at the doctor, whose glare pierced her, making her wince.

“Red, go get a stretcher. Tenderheart will help get Spike down, while I go over his diagnostics.”

She hung her head low. Her pink mane was in a little bun, which bounced as she nodded and left the room. Now there were only two.

“And make sure that dolt from the lounge gets his flank in here! He’s going to need to haul these chains out so we can prep for the next patient!” He yelled out into the hallway.

“Okay, Doctor Hooves!”

The stallion came back into the room and sighed. “I was going to save that for when you asked about the condition itself, but I guess we’re hitting you a lot harder than I previously intended.” He looked up at Spike and gasped. “Are you okay?”

Spike…

Spike was on a whole different planet. Everything felt so unfocused. What he was told had changed what he thought of himself. A bit neurotic? A bit… more than just an coma? Twilight actually saved him from himself?

His vision was getting blurry, muddled by water of another kind, something he grew akin to when he’d go to bed and fall asleep, tears matting his pillows.

“I…”

Tenderheart and Doctor Hooves shared a concerned glance. They didn’t know how he felt. They just knew that he was hurting. That’s all Spike could guess. That’s all he knew.

He didn’t even know what day it was.

“I get it. I… just don’t know if I want to believe it. That I’m just some screwed up dragon and—”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Spike!” Tenderheart interrupted. “You’re a good dragon, the best around even!”

Spike couldn’t shake his head. The chains just rattled, keeping him in place. “I don’t think that’s true. I’m just the only one around, so there’s no competition.”

He closed his eyes. He's the only one. A lonely dragon in Equestria who did not care that he wanted to d—

"Hey, hey... that's not true whatsoever!"

Spike's eyes snapped open. He saw Dr. Hooves standing in front of him, his hooves wrapping around the dragon.

“You’re not a screwed up dragon. You’re just struggling, that’s all.”

Spike slowly opened his mouth, only to be shut up, buttercupped by Doctor Hooves’ hoof. “It’s not negotiable when it’s true, Spike. Besides, even if it wasn’t true, I would’nt have believed it with my own two eyes…. that is, unless you decided to go on a murder spree because you just snapped one day after you caught your favorite mare in all the land with another stallion or something.”

Spike chuckled, albeit painfully. His throat hurt. “I don’t plan on doing stuff like that. I’m not crazy…”

“Glad we agreed on something so far,” Doctor Hooves said, bringing the dragon close once again. “Prepare for a release, Spike.”

“Re—oh!”

The last padlocks let him go, and the chains fell to the ground, raining metal onto the tile floor. Spike was surprised none of that metal caused any cracks on the ground. He could still hear the clicking and clacking of the chains, even after they had fallen. It was like an echo…

He gasped as his body finally fell to the ground too, or, rather, he was placed there. The doctor looked down at him and smiled. “Can you feel your legs?”

Spike raised a brow. “I should be—”

He couldn’t feel them at all. Actually, he couldn’t feel much at all. “—actually, nevermind. I barely feel anything. I think my crotch itches, but that’s all I can really say I ‘feel’ at the moment.”

“TMI, Spike. TMI,” Tenderheart said as she facehooved, while Doctor Hooves stifled a laugh.

“Don’t listen to her, she does not know of our struggle.” The two guys shared a quick hoof-fist bump, before sharing in their laughter.

Spike could feel his own laugh, and he could feel his stomach ‘hurting’ from it all, but it was like he didn’t know if there was an emotion attached to any of it. Maybe there was, and maybe he just didn’t realize it.

And maybe there was something else he was missing.

“So… was that all that there was, Doc?”

Spike watched as his intrigue turned reality. The doctor shook his head. “Well, there’s a lot to go through for it, but to put it in short… you’re—”

Nurse Redheart, with her convenient timing, burst through the door with a stretcher carrying a pink and black unicorn on it. “Sorry I’m late. He’d only come if I put him on the stretcher.”

The trio of two medical professionals and a lone dragon gazed at the two goofballs that entered the room

And the one on the stretcher just had to speak first:

“Draw me like one of your Prench girls, Doctor Hooves!”

Spike was now on a stretcher, being wheeled into his new room. The old one had to be, as the doctor said, reworked, since the chains had to be mounted onto the wall so that Spike wouldn’t move. Apparently, his body was such a mess of genetics. He was one of the few dragons who had a condition, that, if he got under too much stress, could turn his world into one heck of a mess very quickly. He would be stuck living the same day over and over until he woke up. But the kicker, which Redheart at accidentally slip, was that he was sleepwalking during his first couple of weeks, something that made Spike worry the most.

He…

“Well, Spike, you apparently took your bed with you to the Carousel Boutique.”

That alarmed him when the Doctor said that. He thought he was over with Rarity, but apparently his sub-conscious was still attached to her like a glove.

“And… well, that bed was also chained to you, so it was probably a rough time trying to get comfortable.”

Spike also couldn’t believe this. He was not that strong. If he could do that, he would be Big Mac times… two!

But what really kicked his gut was what happened while he was gone.

“Twilight had done what?!”

“We don’t know why but she just… stopped her court since you got here!”

Those words made his blood boil. Twilight had never stopped her world of friendship for anything. How? How could the girls let Twilight do that? Why would Celestia let her do that? Ponies needed her!

He curled his fingers into a fist… or at least tried to. His claw wasn’t used to moving, so it just curled slightly, before twitching in place.

His stretcher, as he had currently claimed, was moseying through the clinic’s many hallways. And by moseying, Spike meant trailblazing.

“Why are we racing down the hallway, Doctor Hooves?”

Doctor Hooves, through his many panting fits, responded in kind, “Because you, Tenderheart, and I are all out of shape, and because I want to get as far away from that dunderhead as possible.”

“Doctor, we’ve been going in circles for the past ten minutes.”

“We… what?!”

The stretcher zoomed forward with Spike on it. The dragon could barely make out any of the confusion that he heard behind him. All he could hear was the voices of shock, outrage, and desperation, probably begging that he wouldn’t die by the sheer high impact violence his death would cause if his stretcher rammed right into a solid brick wall—

“Gotcha!”

Spike stopped, and so did his stretcher. It was now floating in mid-air, something that not many ponies could do, even if they were a really good spellcaster.

And that voice. That voice sounded familiar. Like it was something he had heard yesterday. Just a bit here and there, but it was just… like she was distant for a moment.

“Twi… Twilight?”

Spike just muttered her name without thinking of her. It was automatic, locked in with everything that he had grown to understand. Twilight was his life, and her life was everyone else.

Seemed a bit commonplace of him.

“Spike!”

Purple fur encompassed his vision. He could slightly feel her presence, but none of that comfort that he would get. It was pressure. That’s all it was.

He couldn’t really be happy if he tried.

“H-Hey, T...Twi—”

His vision was no longer painted purple. He could see the light again, and he could see her face. It was… something to behold.

Tears were in her eyes. And her muzzle was all scrunched and twitchy. It was nice to see that she cared. After all, her number one assistant was back.

“I’m so happy you’re alive!” She did a little bunny hop as she spoke, “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it!” Three more hops this time. She put one left foot with less thump, while her right wiggled just above the tile.

Spike tried to prop himself up to get a better look at Twilight, but his arm just didn’t want to cooperate. So he kept himself down and tried to work a smile on his face. “I’m glad too, both from the fact that I was gone for a month and for the fact that I didn’t die from that brick wall that I imagine is right in front of me.”

Twilight smiled. “It’s about fifteen feet away from you, so you’re fine.”

“Oh,” Spike muttered.

The hospital staff finally caught up to the pair. Twilight set his stretcher down and closed her eyes. “What happened.”

Doctor Hooves’ lungs sounded like they were begging for assistance. “A slight slip-up, that’s all. We apologize for—”

“—nearly killing the closest family member in my life?”

That made Spike want to turn to see the action. All he could see was her face, and nothing that was going on behind him. And boy did she look absolutely furious—both of her brows were twitching, and her horn looked like it was going to explode any second.

“We’re sorry, Princess Twilight Sparkle! It won’t happen again and—”

The magic that was brewing in Twilight’s horn stopped, and her brows no longer twitched. Spike could only watch helplessly as the mare who just claimed that she saw him as ‘the closest family member in her life’ tried to contain her emotions. She let out a brief blow before she closed her eyes. “I just want him to be better, okay? I can’t keep going if he’s not around, because he’s… he’s important to me. I just...” She opened her eyes, as hers face fell hard, tears jetting out from her face and matting her cheeks. “Please don’t let him slip away from me…”

Spike just closed his eyes as the nurses slowly surrounded her.

Maybe when he gets in his room, they’ll tell him what happens next, because if Twilight was like this, he didn’t want to know what everyone else was like.

At least, not yet. He had time, right?

Author's Note

Old School Runescape is a great game.

Help, I'm a slave to being a hardcore ironman bro!