Spike sighed, feeling the hooves on his back push him deeper into the massage bed. His lips quirked into a smile, and his eyes drifted closed, letting him focus on the room's background noises.
The steady breathing of the masseurs. The gentle movement of hooves on bodies. The quiet tune playing on a radio somewhere. The softspoken lyrics...
"...not as it seems… as it seems..."
There was a click, then momentary silence, as if somepony had turned off the radio. Spike's eyes opened and his mouth half-formed a question; but then the masseur hit a pressure point, and he gurgled with a mix of pain and pleasure.
A small laugh from the bed next to his made him turn his head. Rarity lay stretched-out, like he was, visible primarily as a single half-open eye beneath the long white towel wrapped around her mane.
"Spike, darling, didn't I tell you a couples' massage would be just the thing to help you forget all your troubles?"
Spike's mouth quavered into a frown. "You... did you? I don’t remember..."
Rarity’s smile widened. "Girls, why don't you give dear Spikey-wikey and I a few moments? We'll call for you when we're all finished.”
The pressure on his back abated. Spike felt a pang of uncertainty, and turned his head, curious to look at the masseurs again. But he only just managed to catch the private spa room's door clicking shut.
His eyes drifted to a picture hung next to the door; a portrait, indistinct but for the look of urgency in the figure’s eyes. He paused, making an effort to concentrate. The picture resolved itself a bit more clearly, showing a dark coat and a mane of starry blue...
Something blurred at the edge of his vision. He turned, seeing Rarity upon him, pressing forehooves down on either side of his body. "Dearest Spike," she purred. One hoof began a slow stroke down the spines on his back.
He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut, relishing the sensation. "R... Rarity? What are you..."
"Shhh." She leaned in, brushing his ear with her muzzle. "We're all alone now. Everything you've ever wished we could do together?” She gave his ear a gentle peck. “Now, we can."
Her forehooves gently rolled him onto his side. He swallowed as he watched her rise on her hind legs and undo the towel, sending a cascade of dark, damp mane down upon her body.
For a moment, a pony seemed to peek out from the wake of Rarity’s dark mane, mouth moving soundlessly. Spike blinked, and the pony was gone.
Rarity’s forehooves caressed down her neck, her barrel, and finally her haunches. “What’s wrong, Spikey-wikey? Isn’t this your… dream?”
Spike’s vision swam, and—there, just for an instant—he caught a clearer view of the dark-coated pony, whose mouth was open wide, and whose hoof reached toward him.
“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling an unbidden urge to press a claw up to his chest.
Rarity glanced behind herself. Spike saw nothing there, but Rarity laughed regardless. “Why, let me simply offer this…”
She leaned closer, bringing a hoof to the base of his skull, pulling him forward. His protests were lost in her warm, soft, but insistent muzzle, and a kiss that set his blood afire.
Her body moved closer, their kisses becoming more passionate. Soon, he felt her begin to climb atop the bed, and then atop him, too…
He pushed her gently, gasping for air. “Wait, Rarity… something’s wrong.” He shook his head, then said quietly, “I don’t remember coming here.”
"Not enjoying yourself, darling?"
He looked past her again, hoping to catch another glimpse of the other pony. “No, this… you don’t know how many times I’ve…”
A hoof brought his head back to face her.
Spike spent long moments staring deep into her cold, blue eyes. She stared back, smiling, before giving him a sultry wink. Spike’s whole body tingled.
A knock at the door broke her spell, and Spike turned, seeing it open. He frowned, though, as he struggled to make sense of the apparent nothing on the other side; no hallway, no light, just an empty, yawning void.
A dark hoof pierced the threshold of that emptiness, reaching toward him.
“I’m what you’ve always wanted,” Rarity said, pressing down harder.
The radio switched on again. The song was unchanged: "Not as it seems..."
“Wait a minute,” Spike mumbled. “That song…”
“I want to give you everything,” she whispered in his ear.
He absentmindedly reached toward the hoof. Somehow it reached back, grasping onto his claw despite the apparent distance.
Rarity gave an unearthly scream as—
Spike blinked. The room was dark now, and the bed felt much more like his own, but Rarity was still atop him. The background sounds were all different, though: shouting, the sparking of electricity, and familiar voices talking rapidly.
His vision blurred as he tried to look around. Apart from Rarity, the dim light showed him little more than a group of different-colored ponies standing nearby. He focused on Rarity; her broad smile and seductive, half-lidded eyes were still clear, but little else about her was.
She turned her head toward the nearby group, then brought it back down closer to Spike’s face. “My dear,” she whispered, the coldness of her breath making Spike shiver. “This is a dream. These creatures are trying to pull you into it, and if they do, I fear you may become trapped inside, forever.”
Spike frowned; her voice was somehow… different than he expected, though he couldn't quantify the difference. He felt discomfort in his chest, and looked down at it, staring dumbfounded for a moment. “Rarity? Is your hoof… going into me?”
Rarity chuckled. “Trivialities, dear.” She brought her muzzle down next to his ear. “The most important thing, now, is to let me take you back out of this dream,” she purred.
He looked up, but still couldn’t get a clear view of her. “How do I do that?”
“Simplicity itself, my love. Just… give me your heart.”
A muffled sound intruded into Spike’s reverie. Spike’s head lolled over to one side, spotting an indistinct dark blur break off from the cluster of multicolored forms and approach him.
Rarity lowered her head, sobbing. “Oh, darling, I hate how long we’ve had to wait to have what we desire.”
He raised a claw toward her cheek. “Rarity, What's going on?”
She looked up briefly, giving him a glimpse of her tear- and mascara-streaked muzzle. “I… I'm just afraid, my darling. Afraid that we won't get to be together, forever, like I know that we both want.”
Spike touched a claw to her shoulder. “I don’t… but, you’ve only ever said that we were friends. Just friends. You… you didn't say it that way, but… I know it's what you meant.”
Rarity smiled through her tears. “But surely that isn't all you want?” She caressed his face. “I feel your heart, Spike; I feel the passion you hide. I feel it burning, and… I want to let it burn. Forever.”
Rarity pressed her other hoof to his chest. He winced, and looked down…
“I…” Spike said, blinking. He slowly ran a claw through Rarity’s luxurious mane. “Oh Rarity, you’re all I’ve ever wanted…”
She winked, and moved her hips against him. “Oh, darling, I’m so glad to hear you say that!”
“But…” His chest ached, and his vision lurched again. “Rarity… this isn't like you.”
Rarity laughed. “Darling, you don’t know this side of me yet, but I can’t wait to show you…”
He hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m still… young… maybe we should talk to Twilight, just to make sure?”
She raised his chin with a hoof. “The heart wants what it wants, dear. Listen to it!”
Spike frowned. “I don't know… what if we… took some time?”
“There is no time!” she shouted.
Spike startled. Rarity gave a small laugh. “I’m so sorry; I just mean I want to hold your heart forever, and it feels like there's no time.”
She blinked, and for a moment, he thought he saw her eyes as red, not blue. But then she blinked again, and they were definitely blue.
He trembled. “You said… this is a dream?”
“Yes, yes, but I can take you from it.”
Tears welled in his eyes. “You mean… that you’re the dream. Don’t you?”
Her smile contorted, taking on a predatory aspect. “Darling, whatever makes you say that?”
Spike’s eyes drifted down to his chest again, and he focused.
Something indeed protruded from his chest—which he could now see was spattered with blood. Only, it wasn’t a hoof; it was spindly, raw, and ended in a fearsome-looking claw.
His eyes followed it upward, and—
“Luna!” he shrieked “Luna, please! I—”
There was a massive crackling sound as bursts of energy exploded on the Rarity-thing’s back, marring its already horrific countenance, and exposing more of the abhorrent nothingness that comprised its essence.
It screeched and dug deep into Spike’s chest.
He screamed.
Thin beams of light lanced down through heavy clouds, illuminating isolated spots in the valley below, and washing Ponyville with patterns of light and darkness. The clouds threatened rain, but the rain didn’t come.
Spike wondered if the rain would ever come.
He sat alone, as he had done for the better part of a week, alternating between keeping a silent vigil over Ponyville from his vantage point near the summit of Canterlot, and tending to his bandaged chest-wound.
He knew the wound would heal. He felt less sure about the rest.
A sound of flapping wings caught his attention, followed by the sounds of a pony landing nearby, but he didn't turn; he knew who it would be.
“You may be pleased to know the Element-bearers have uncovered more about the creature’s origins,” Luna said, approaching him.
Spike shook his head. “Why?”
Luna frowned. “We could do no less. Right now, more than anything, the ones who love you most wish to do something to help.”
“You can’t,” he whispered. “I don’t want to know more. I just want to forget…”
Luna hesitated. “Spike, what the creature did to you is unconscionable. I know the creature’s origins won’t help you, but investigating them is something we can do.”
Spike stood, looking out at Ponyville, trying not to give into tears. “What’s there to investigate? It’s my fault that I wanted… her.”
“It isn’t, Spike. If anything, the fault is mine, as keeper of the night. The creature was a minion of Sombra: a dream stalker, a holdout from the time of his kingdom, now seeking its revenge for your honorable service to the Crystal Empire.”
“Stop, please,” Spike said.
“The rest of us wish to show you our support, now more than ever,” Luna said.
“Then leave me alone.”
She paused, stayed silent for a long moment, and then nodded. “Very well. I will return tomorrow. But know that Rarity asks daily to see you, even if only for as long as you tolerate my visits.”
“How…” He paused. “How can I look at her again?”
“I do not know. But… she loves you, in her own way.” Luna gave him a tentative smile, and inclined her head. “As do we all.”
Spike gave a bitter laugh. “Of course. ‘In her own way.’ It said that it loved me, too.”
Luna frowned. “Spike, your friends… your real friends… have respected your boundaries, where the creature did not. And Rarity wishes to help you, not because of what she can take, but because she wishes to see you whole again.” She reached a hoof toward him. “Whatever that entails.”
Spike stared out at the valley, saying nothing.
“It is natural to feel almost anything, after what has happened to you,” Luna said. “Please, take the time you need… but do not be alone forever.”
He nodded slowly, then hugged his claws around himself.
Luna turned and strode away.
Spike heard the faint sound of her weeping.
