Rarity's voice coaxed Spike from his nightmare.
"Spike?! You're the rampaging dragon?" she shrieked.
They were falling from the sky. The jagged mountainside was far below, but rising quickly. Spike realized he was about to die.
He screamed, and Rarity screamed with him.
Even though Spike was just a little kid, his life was about to end. Memories of the past hour were hazy, but he remembered enough to know this was all his fault. He had doomed himself. He had doomed his lovely friend.
At least he wouldn't die a monster. Rarity's friendship had saved him from that much. Her love had redeemed him. Spike had only a few moments left, so it was now or never.
"Rarity? I need to tell you something!" he shouted, and Rarity stopped screaming. "Just in case we don't make it! I've always sort of had a crush—"
He stopped the moment an immaculately-hooficured hooftip gently tapped his upper lip. Rarity's eyes were streaming with tears. She didn't want him to say it. Her smile told him everything. She already knew.
But of course she did, thought Spike. How couldn't she? He liked to pretend his feelings were some kind of secret, but they were obvious to everypony.
As Spike and Rarity stared at each other, everything else faded away. He was floating in emptiness, at peace with his life. Rarity was with him, and nothing else mattered. Spike didn't want to die, but he couldn't think of a better way to go than looking into the eyes of his—
—just at the last moment, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy plucked them right out of the air. They had survived!
Rarity gave Spike a kiss, and his little heart soared.
For the rest of the day, he beamed with pride. It was a warm happiness punctuated by several short bouts of crying he didn't understand.
When night fell, Spike was unable to sleep. In his mind, the same scene kept playing over and over again. He was falling to his death, and Rarity silenced him. Yes, it was obvious she knew, but even so, why didn't she want him to say it? He couldn't make sense of it.
Spike sighed and tugged at the covers of his tiny bed. He knew he was still a little boy, and his crush on Rarity was an unrealistic fantasy. But someday, he'd be older and wiser. Spike imagined growing up. In the future, he'd have more to offer than mere affection and a cute sense of humor. He would develop a mature personality, adult interests, and a steady job.
At that moment, Spike resolved that he would stop at nothing to become somepony worth Rarity's love, no matter how high that bar might be. He'd push himself to do it sooner rather than later, so she wouldn't need to grow old waiting for him.
He'd do it for her, because it's what she deserved.
Spike stood up straight and adjusted his tie with his tail. The door finally opened.
"Why hello, Spike! My, don't you look dashing today," said Rarity, looking up to her old friend. "Might I ask what the occasion is?"
Spike smiled warmly and pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back. "Hay, Rarity! Um, I got off work early today, and I was wondering if you might want to go—"
A soft tap pressed against his upper lip as Rarity held out her hoof. The touch was very delicate, yet it held all the stopping power of a cockatrice's gaze.
"Darling, you are so sweet. You'll always be my little Spikey-wikey," said Rarity, as she reached up to kiss him gently on the cheek. "And these look positively delicious, thank you so much!"
Rarity took the flowers from him and closed the door. Spike stood there in silence for at least a minute before deciding to walk away.
Rarity's mascara ran black tracks down her delicate white cheeks. Even in moments like these, her beauty shined through. She still looked as young as a mare half her age.
Spike carefully held back her mane as she cried into his shoulder.
"It just isn't fair!" she bawled. "Oh, all those stupid, stuck-up stallions are exactly the same..." Rarity reached over a bunch of crumpled, blackened tissues and grabbed a photo of herself with the unmentionable scoundrel, and violently tore it up. Then she resumed sobbing against her friend.
"You're too good for them," said Spike, his soft voice belying his rage. "None of them know how to treat a lady. I mean, if it were me, I would—"
His face fell when he felt the familiar tap to his lip. Looking down, he saw Rarity had stopped crying long enough to wait for his gaze, then shake her head. He sighed and nodded, then held her closer in his arms as the tears returned to her eyes.
They held each other for more than an hour, and then Rarity slept.
"There's not much to say that the Princess of Friendship hasn't already said," said Spike, standing at the head of the throng who had gathered before his friend's crystal casket. "Rarity touched so many lives with her generosity, mine more than most. I'm honored and humbled to have been her friend."
He paused for a moment, staring out at the crowd; then added, "I will always lo—"
Maybe it was the wind, or maybe it was his nerves. But Spike could feel the gentlest sensation tickling against his upper lip.
Of course it wasn't Rarity. She was gone. Besides, Spike knew Rarity would be thrilled for him to profess his heart to her in eulogy. There was nothing Rarity loved more than to be fawned over and crowed about. In all her years, she'd never made the slightest effort to hide Spike's affection from their friends. And yet...
Spike looked down into the casket at the smiling, beautiful friend he'd spent a lifetime getting to know, in the only ways he could.
It felt like he was falling.
"That's all," said Spike, and then he took his seat.
