Just a Thought

Chapters

1) The Thoughts
2) Phoenix
3) Letter
4) Friends
5) Avoidance
6) Patience
7) Magic
8) Void
9) Now what?
10) Another Day

1) The Thoughts

Author's Note

Content warning: This is a story about someone having suicidal thoughts.

1) The Thoughts

Spike stared at a book for a few moments before tossing it in a pile close to where it would need to be shelved. He had been volunteered to reshelve the library while Twilight, Starlight and a few of the ancient bearers were shown around Equestria for two weeks.

At this point he had shelved and reshelved the library for what must have been hundreds of times. The sorting process was relatively mindless, which meant his mind often wandered as the repetitive task continued.

He couldn’t stop thinking about something Starswirl had said in passing as they were preparing to banish the Pony of Shadows back to limbo.

“The Pony of Shadows killed hundreds of ponies before we were able to contain him.”

The statement hadn’t been focused on by anypony else, just more information about an enemy. But now that enemy was back in Equestria, walking around with everypony else. Starswirl and Stygian were making their amends, wandering across the land who knows where.

Spike sighed and tossed another book to another pile. Poor Stygian, he killed so many—and now he had to continue to live knowing that.

It was in the midst of this line of thinking that a thought came into Spike’s mind. A nagging, wriggling, painful, uncomfortable thought: That’s how I’ll end up.

Stygian wasn’t much different than he was, really. A group of six friends that were the champions of their age. And then… this other thing that just tagged along. Spike didn’t really belong. Even the map room in the castle had six chairs with cutie marks, and a tiny chair for him. He was a part of the group, but not really. He was an add-on. A friend of a friend. He never really belonged with them. He didn’t fight. He didn’t really do much besides “helping.”

Was he really all that helpful? He organized the library after study sessions, cleaned where he could, and cooked sometimes. He was a butler. A very good butler. But not much else.

He used to be Twilight’s only friend. But now that she had so many friends, she didn’t spend nearly as much time with him as she had used to. So Spike stayed behind cleaning, assisting, helping.

That was mostly fine with him. He was a good helper. He was! At least, he thought he was. His friends had been thankful for his actions, he was sure of that. He just wasn’t sure when the last time they had mentioned they were grateful was.

What would it matter how helpful he was now, if he was destined to kill so many?

Spike froze, peering around the empty library and into the vacant corridor beyond. Where had that thought come from? Spike wasn’t going to kill anypony. He liked everypony! Everypony was so nice, and treated him kindly… and… isn’t that what Stygian did?

He had gotten thoughts similar to this before and he always had to work hard to drive it out of his mind. He was never very successful. But at least he had the decency to not bother anypony else with his random thoughts. That was all they were—random thoughts. That was it. They weren’t anything else. They weren’t indicative of anything else. He was fine. Really fine. No really. He was fine. Absolutely nothing to worry about. At least until he was destined to kill the ones he loved.

Spike violently shook his head and then picked up another book. His process was to take each one and put it in a pile next to the section it corresponded to. It was the initial sort that made it simpler for the more active sort later when he would put the books on their bookshelves.

It felt like the library needed a complete reshelving practically once a moon. Why was it so hard to research something without tearing apart the library every time? When everypony died he would never have to reshelve the books again.

Spike paused and then checked around the library again, making certain he really was alone.

Where had that thought come from? Had he really thought it up himself? No—it couldn’t be him. He would never, ever, ever, ever, think like that. Would he? Wait—he had just thought about it. It had been right there in his mind for a second. Perhaps it was the Pony of Shadows influencing him? No—the pony of shadows was Stygian. And Stygian was fine.

As fine as anypony that had murdered hundreds of ponies can be. Except that given that he killed them thousands of years ago, those hundreds of ponies could have had hundreds of thousands of descendants by now. So the Pony of Shadows had really committed an even more egregious atrocity. Those possible descendant’s effects on the present were completely incalculable. Who knows what lives they could have led, what books they could have written.

He stared at the library around him. If Stygian hadn’t murdered those ponies, how many more books would be in this library?

He shuddered. He couldn’t live with himself if he had killed anypony. Just one pony could have a family that after thousands of years could influence millions of ponies. It’s an exponential problem. The more time added, the more the influence grows. One murder affects millions eventually.

Spike became aware of how fast he was breathing. How long had he been breathing like this? How long had his claws been shaking like this?

Had Spike ever killed anypony?

His thoughts quickly reverted to an old worry he always tried to avoid thinking about. When he had been born, he had grown humongous very quickly thanks to Twilight’s entrance exam spell going haywire. Had anypony been crushed to death because of him? If it had happened, Celestia probably would not have told him. He was still a baby after all, and they wouldn’t burden a child with knowing the truth: that he already had blood on his claws from the very moment of his birth.

NO! That can’t be true!

But what if it was?

What if by the very act of being born, he had crushed one of the castle servants?

Maybe that’s why Spike was just a butler at this point. It was an equivalent exchange for the servant he had killed in Celestia’s palace when he was hatched. So that’s why they inculcated Spike into behaving this way. A servant’s life for a servant’s life.

No! No! He hadn’t killed anypony! He hadn’t. He was fine. Celestia would have told him… right? No… he was too young. Ponies were always trying to protect him from scary information. They always avoided using words like “death” or “killed” around him. Only Star Swirl, who didn’t know to filter things in front of him, had told the real truth: the Pony of Shadows had killed ponies. Sombra, Nightmare Moon, Tirek, and other threats they had faced before had probably also killed ponies.

And yet… Nightmare Moon was forgiven? Stygian was forgiven. He couldn’t reconcile this in his mind. So many ponies and would be ponies were dead.

Why didn’t he just ask Celestia? This pattern of thought had bothered him enough before to warrant this right? He could send a letter at any time to her and ask her directly if he had killed anypony when he had been born. But this was the Princess, he shouldn’t bother her with his pesky anxieties. And even if she asked? Would she tell the truth? Was he old enough to know the truth? Even if he got a response saying that he hadn’t killed anypony, could it be trusted? He… He really had killed somepony, hadn’t he? That was the only logical conclusion.

He breathed in and out.

Maybe that’s when Twilight had learned to be so forgiving? When Spike accidentally killed somepony when he was hatched she had to learn to forgive the monster that now lived with her. The first villain Twilight forgave wasn’t Nightmare Moon, it was him.

Spike shakily made his way out of the library. He needed a snack, something—anything—different. Just a quick change of pace. The castle echoed with each step of his feet, causing a crescendo of taps that emanated around and never fully dissipated. When there were others in the castle, the echoes didn’t bother him as they just became a white noise in the background of castle life. But now each and every sound was directly his fault. His fault. His fault. HIS FAULT. HIS FAULT! Spike started sprinting to the kitchen, trying to drown out his own thoughts with the noise of his footsteps on crystal and his own thumping heart.

The kitchen was bare of anything besides ordinary kitchen equipment, food, and supplies. Of course the castle was desolate except for a single dragon—who would want to be alone with a murderer?

Spike yelped quietly as if he had accidentally pinched himself. Where were these thoughts coming from? Spike wasn’t going to kill anypony. As far as he knew, he hadn’t killed anypony. As far as he knew.

He grabbed a ruby from one of the bottom drawers meant for him. He took a bite and the red warm fire ruby crunched in his mouth. It was warm, tasty and absolutely wonderful. Each and every bite a relaxing dose of calm permeating his entire being. He wondered if a pony would taste similar.

Spike coughed and a little bile came out of his throat, sending shards of crimson gems out of his mouth. The shards mixed with his saliva on the floor and looked sickeningly like blood.

Blood on the floor. Is that how they were going to find out he had killed somepony? Spike spit up more of the ruby shards, the thoughts making him convulse in horror.

It wasn’t blood. It wasn’t blood. It wasn’t! IT WASN’T! IT WASN’T! IT WASN’T!

He grabbed a towel and began to clean up the vomit on the kitchen floor. The towel quickly became red with the ruby shards. He poured a cleaning potion and disinfected the kitchen floor, scouring it of the mess he had made.

Will it be this easy to clean up pony blood?

No No No NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!

No! Those thoughts didn’t come from him. He wasn’t like that. Sure, nopony loved him and he was basically a slave.

NO!

No, he was loved and treated kindly and always left behind because no one trusts him. He was a dragon. And who knows how many ponies he would kill accidentally or intentionally over the next thousands of years. Spike was only a few years old and had already “possibly” crushed ponies in Celestia’s palace or that time he created a hoard and had greatly injured the Wonderbolts and caused massive property damage to Ponyville.

Had anypony died!? Would they even tell him if they had? Would they? He didn’t remember any funerals in Ponyville afterwards. But if they had already hidden the ponies that had died when he had hatched, they would’ve continued the charade after his rampage too.

Spike breathed in and out, his thoughts really had gone overboard. He was behaving—no—thinking illogically. Things were fine.

He rinsed the rags and put them in a laundry basket for later, then took one last look around the kitchen to make sure it was spotless.

If the thoughts weren’t internal, perhaps they were external? The Sirens… Sombra… those were creatures that could affect emotions.

But Spike felt very alone—not even an evil presence or anything. He was the only thing breathing in the entire castle. Even Owlowiscious seemed to abandon the castle while Twilight was away for the next two weeks.

Spike slowly meandered his way back to the castle library, each step echoing in the hallway around him.

Perhaps part of the Pony of Shadows had rubbed off on him? It made sense. Stygian was the out of place 7th member… and so was Spike.

Out of place. A friend of a friend. A future frightening, scary dragon.

Was he being influenced by the Pony of Shadows? Not the pony… but the shadow? It had been banished, right? Right?

Spike ran up to a mirror, examining every inch of his body. Legs, arms, inside his mouth, his claws, his spikes, his tail, absolutely everything. There was no darkness to be found.

Perhaps his thoughts really were just coming from himself?

Why was he thinking about this? Why was he STILL thinking about this? Make the thoughts go away. Make the thoughts go away by whatever means necessary.

He ran back up into his room and dashed towards his comic book collection. His mind found relief in losing itself in a different world entirely. His comics weren’t him, and they safely stopped him from thinking about himself, the character’s actions familiar and warm and safe.

He had read these issues dozens of times at this point. He knew every line of dialogue and what was going to happen. And nopony was going to die.

When Spike looked up hours later, the autumn sunset was shining throughout the castle. He had wasted the entire afternoon.

I didn’t do the ONE thing I’m good for. I organize the books! That’s what I’m good for. That’s what Twilight asked me to do and I didn’t do it.

Spike quickly shook his head and then headed back to the library. He still had piles of books that weren’t in the right places yet, so he began sorting them again.

It was oddly relaxing to have such a simple, yet complex task to work on. He had gotten much faster at the work over the years.

Everything had been going alright until he came across one book. It was a history of ponies and dragons. Spike had always been skittish around books like these, always afraid of what he’d find. But Twilight wouldn’t leave a book sitting around the library that would be truly frightening for him, would she? Of course she would. Twilight was all about knowledge and truth, whatever that truth may be.

Spike gulped, and then started flipping through the book. It didn’t take long to find. There had been plenty of murders throughout the years: stories of dragons eating ponies, dragons invading, dragons hurting, torturing, pillaging. The book even mentioned several times in recent history where some stray dragons had eaten ponies. It was pretty rare as Celestia had strict agreements with the Dragon Lands and she was quite the formidable defender against any dragon attack.

But still, no wonder ponies were afraid of him. He glanced at a mirror and then looked at his teeth. Despite being just a baby dragon, the fangs he had could slice through pony skin quite easily. He could be a monster. He already had been a monster—almost crushing Ponyville on his birthday. Ironic that he had most likely killed ponies on both his birthdays, one being his actual birth, and getting greedy on his previous birthday. What was going to happen on his next birthday? He was going to grow to a colossal size and accidentally crush somepony without realizing it and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Nothing? Nothing!?

There was always a way to stop things from happening. If he was destined to kill someone—if it was an absolute given that by him being alive someone else had to die—then that someone should be himself. That's fair. Nopony deserved to be hurt, even accidentally, by him.

He realized how fast he had been breathing and how quickly his pulse slowed down when he thought about dying. Besides absorbing himself in his comic books, thinking about suicide was the only thing that had truly calmed him down all day.

It was perfect. He would never hurt anypony. Nopony would die. Everypony would be fine, and happy, and…

And…

Spike started to cry as he thought about how perfect it was. None of his “friends” would need to worry about his inevitable betrayal. None of them would need to worry about Spike anymore at all. Pinkie wouldn’t need to throw him birthday parties. Rarity wouldn’t have to be annoyed at the crush he had on her anymore.

Twilight—

Twilight…

She didn’t need him anymore. He knew she had plenty of magic at her disposal. If she wanted to, she could devise a spell that would autosort the entire library, teleporting each book exactly where it had been. The only reason she hadn’t made a spell like that was to make Spike feel useful. She was an Alicorn Princess who had real friends now. She didn’t need him anymore. Cooking, cleaning, writing… everything could be done in a blink of an eye with Twilight’s magic. She just kept him around because she didn’t want him to feel bad for being worthless.

He was worse than worseless. He was a liability. He was destined to be a villain. A dragon raised by ponies that spends his entire life trying to deny what he is, until eventually he succumbs to evil and becomes the dragon of shadows, murdering everypony and drowning the land in darkness.

“NO!” Spike screamed, throwing the book across the room and into the pile it belonged to. Several books scattering around as a result.

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” Spike started crying, lying on the floor hugging his legs to his chest.

He wasn’t going to be a villain. Nopony would die. Nopony would get hurt. Nopony would suffer. He just had to kill himself and everypony else would be fine. Just fine.

Except for himself. But he didn’t really matter. He had never mattered. If anything, he shouldn’t have been born at all.

He shook his head and focused on the task at hand. He just needed to finish sorting the library. That was the task Twilight had given him to do. He could do one last request from Twilight. One last library reshelving project.

It was kind of horrifying to realize in just how many ways he could kill himself. Sure—he was a dragon so he was made of tougher stuff than the average pony. But with the right angle he could probably jump off the tallest tower and land on one of the lower towers in just the right way to—NO—that would be way, way too gruesome. Nopony should have to see that.

Also, falling from large heights had never really hurt him before. And some of his pony friends had done it almost as practical jokes.

Spike sighed. Why hadn’t he decided to die sooner? He had never been needed or wanted before. The thought had crossed his mind a few times before when he noticed just how useless he was most of the time. But he had never taken it to its logical conclusion. He shouldn’t have dismissed the thoughts of suicide; they were his best shot at saving the most lives in Equestria.

What Spike really needed to do was just disappear. He would finish reshelving the library, and then vanish without a trace.

He thought long and hard about some way of causing himself to never be born at all. But if he hadn’t have been born, Twilight never would have made it into Princess Celestia’s school. And she wouldn’t be an Alicorn today.

Perhaps he had done some good in his life.

Yes, there was quite a lot of good he had done. But it would all be eclipsed when he inevitably—accidentally or intentionally—hurt somepony. He had done all the good things he would ever do. And anything after this? It would only make it all the more painful when he eventually failed.

He needed to figure out something fast.

No—he had time. Twilight and her friends were showing how Equestria had changed over a thousand years to the former champions. Twilight said it would take two weeks, but in reality it could take quite some time.

His initial book sort was complete, and now he just needed to put the books in their right spots. The sun was now far gone, but Spike continued to stay up, letting the dark thoughts flow freely as he worked.

The cleaning potions would probably kill him. But then he would be left behind to be “found.” Gross. Nopony needed that.

Then he realized something wonderful. The Everfree forest was full of creatures that could kill him: a timberwolf, a manticore, a cragadile, and so many more. There were so many ways to die in that forest. So many ways to disappear.

After several more hours of thinking and shelving, Celestia’s sun crept over the horizon and filtered into the crystal castle, forming oranges and stray rainbows. The reshelving project had taken Spike much less time than usual. He had never had something so important to do afterwards.

Spike took one last long walk around the castle.

It would be emptier without him there.

But he thought of all the many thousands of ponies that would exist millennia from now because of Spike’s sacrifice. One pony lost is thousands of future ponies never born at all. So many books unwritten. So much gone.

Spike smiled as the warm thought made him feel safe and comfortable. That’s what he was good at: helping. It would probably be his cutie mark if dragons could obtain one. And now the last thing he would ever do was help.

You can’t be a villain if you’re not there at all.

He tidied his room one last time. He thought about lighting everything on fire, but the smoke might cause somepony in town to notice. Twilight could just make everything in here vanish after he was gone.

He felt so tired, and the bed did feel very inviting. But every second he spent still alive was just one more second closer to his inevitable betrayal.

He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand.

He grabbed a vial of the cleaning potion from the kitchen and then locked the door to the castle behind him. The early afternoon sun blazed down from overhead as he made his way to the forest. He did his best to skirt around anypony else in town, peering around and making sure his path from the castle to the forest was devoid of any creature. Once he arrived at the tree line, he looked over his shoulder one last time at the castle, confident no one had seen him.

He didn’t take any marked trail, instead deciding to meander through the trees further and further.

The trees towered overhead, casting the whole forest in a murky darkness. Spike kept walking into trees accidentally. It would have been easier to move around if his left claw wasn’t held tight around the vial of potion. He forged on, making sure to cover any tracks he may have accidentally made.

The sun must’ve gone down, because it started to feel incredibly cold in the forest.
His throat was parched, and his stomach kept twisting around in knots. He hadn’t eaten anything since the fire ruby yesterday, and he had thrown that up.

Surely some creature would come along and kill him soon. But he was just so tired. He could barely keep his eyes open.

When he felt he couldn’t continue any longer and all trace of strength had left him, Spike looked down at the vial. He reached out to unstop the potion, but his fingers kept missing and fumbling.

He firmly grasped the vial in his left claw and then pinched the top with his right claw, slowly unstopping the cork off. He went to bring the vial up to his mouth, but he missed, spilling some of the potion on his scales.

He winced. There should still be plenty of potion left needed to finish the job.

He finally just threw the entire thing in his mouth, glass and all, and crunched down, the nasty potion seeping down inside him.

He didn’t feel sad, or happy, or relieved, or anything. He just felt “done.”

And that’s when Spike noticed the cockatrice.

The creature stared at him as he stood transfixed back. It had such fascinating eyes. Spike leaned against a tree as he felt his entire body grow heavier. He slunk to the ground, the weight of the sleep deprivation, the potion, and the cockatrice’s stare forcing him to lie down completely.

2) Phoenix

There were three red birds crying on Spike when he woke up.

Their tears slowly washed over his whole body, each drop taking away the stone and replacing it with pristine purple scales. It was unnerving seeing them there. He couldn’t move, too much of his body was still stone, and bit by bit, his body was restored.

Phoenixes.

No.

No!

He wanted to thrash at the phoenixes, to attack, to hurt them, to make sure they would never revive someone like him again. But they probably didn't know any better. They didn’t know they were resurrecting a future murderer. They didn’t deserve to be attacked. Spike would just need to be patient and try another method of suicide in the future.

“Key!” chirped a rather meticulous phoenix. It seemed to be putting forth the most effort into curing him. To Spike’s horror, the phoenix opened Spike’s mouth, sniffed, and then shoved its head inside. If the inside of his body hadn’t already been stone, he would have gagged and screamed.

It must’ve noticed the smell of the cleaning potion. Spike could feel as the tears slowly went down his throat and dissolved all traces of the poison from his body.

Spike laid motionless while they worked. It was a very odd feeling to be completely drowned in phoenix tears. This had to be more than a little excessive. And there had to be so many better uses for phoenix tears than on him.

Spike realized how much they were doing though. He wasn’t tired anymore from all his time awake. He was completely whole, inside and out. If he had been blinded or suffering from any major illness, this would have cured it. It cured everything. Except his mind.

“Why…” Spike asked, when his voice finally returned. “Why would you do this?”

“Keewee,” chirped one of the phoenixes, gesturing toward the phoenix that had shoved its head in Spike’s mouth. Based on her head plumage, she must have been female. And the two others were both male.

Spike stared intently at the phoenix that had worked so hard on him. “Peewee?” asked Spike.
All three birds chirped in delight when Spike said the name, with Peewee himself jumping up and down on Spike’s knees.

“You came back… for me?” asked Spike.

The whole family of birds twittered excitedly, Peewee nodding his head.

Spike felt like it was his turn to cry at this point, though no emotion came out. Only a dull feeling that this was a brief impediment towards his inevitable suicide.

“I— umm… thank you,” said Spike, rubbing the back of his head.

“Kree,” said Peewee’s father, bowing.

Spike breathed in and out, assessing his situation. What would be the best way to die now? He would need a way to die that couldn’t be affected by phoenix tears. No, that’s a bad idea. The phoenixes would have to go. They would be sad when they found out Spike succeeded.

“Now what, Peewee?” asked Spike.

“Key,” chirped Peewee’s father and mother at the same time, gesturing with a wing to Peewee.

“Uhh… Key?” said Spike.

Peewee bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically.

“I guess your parents should be the one to name you, huh,” Spike faintly smiled.

The birds gave a simple coo of appreciation.

“Umm… thanks for the help, Key,” said Spike. “I… guess I should go home now.”

Key jumped off Spike’s knees and then went close to his parents. His parents wrapped their wings around Key in a tight embrace. And then they chirped a few times in whatever language phoenixes had and then they flew off, leaving Key behind.

Spike’s eyes went wide when he realized what happened. “Peewee, you’re—“

"Key!” asserted Key, facing him and landing on his shoulder.

“Right… Key. You’re staying with me?” asked Spike.

Key nodded his head and leaned in close to Spike. He was so warm and full of life. Spike was practically already dead. Just the final arrangements had been delayed. He really ought to avoid being around living things.

“Are you sure, I… umm… I’m sure your parents will miss you. You could stay with them…”

Key let out a squawk that gave Spike the distinct feeling that he was saying: “I’m needed more here.”

“Oh… alright,” said Spike.

Spike finally stood up and then looked around the Everfree forest. After the hours spent randomly wandering, it would take a miracle to get out of here.

Key flew up in the air, effortlessly weaving through the thick foliage. He was back again a moment later, keeping his wings spread, waiting for Spike to follow.

Spike sighed and slowly began following the phoenix.

The forest leaves crunched under his feet. How many days had passed? Was Twilight home already? How did Key find him? Now how am I going to kill myself?

“Key, how did you find me?” asked Spike.

From above Key started chirping a long stream of tweets that Spike couldn’t make heads or tails of.

“What?”

Key looked annoyed and then burst into flames.

Spike’s eyes went wide and before he could jump back, a pillar of fire appeared on his shoulder and Key emerged unscathed.

“You can teleport?”

Key gripped Spike’s shoulder with his talons and began a lengthy explanation of something. Probably explaining the magic or something and the limits behind it. Or he could have been talking about the weather for all Spike knew.

Spike frowned,”But you didn’t need to come all this way, I didn’t need any help.”

Key’s intense eyes narrowed.

“I mean— I guess… I…” Spike stammered.

“Keer,” said Key.

“I guess I didn’t want help.”

“Kree?”

“I mean— I—“ All the feelings of shame from before were boiling in the pit in Spike’s stomach. He shouldn’t be alive. Being alive meant that someday he would betray his friends. Somepony was going to die, perhaps many ponies, the future was uncertain. Just one thing seemed clear, Spike needed to die in order to help everypony else.

“Scraw,” squawked Key.

“Oh… sorry… I kind of… umm… I’m sure what to say.”

“Twee.”

Spike sighed. “I like you, Key. But… I… there’s something I need to do to protect my friends.”

Key’s head tilted a little.

“No, I can’t tell you.”

Key gave one of Spike’s ears a small peck.

“Ow! Sorry, I just can’t! Okay!”

“Kehm.”

Spike head drooped. Peewee was one of the greatest friends he had ever been with, even though he had only gotten to be around him for less than a few weeks before he gave him back to his parents. This adult phoenix was more annoying than anything else. How dare something love him and want to keep him alive.

Spike’s eyes closed and he shook his head as if he was trying to knock the thought out of his mind.

“Scrawk?”

“Sorry… I just— I… well… just— thought that umm… uhh…” Spike couldn’t really talk today. Nothing came out clear. But did it really matter if it came out clear? Key was just a bird. It wasn’t like he could understand everything Spike said. It was more… feelings than anything else.

“Just a thought… that umm… that shouldn’t have been there,” Spike finally finished saying.

Spike felt as Key nuzzled against his head again.

They both fell silent for a long time as Spike winded his way through the forest. Every so often Key would fly up, survey, and then come back down to guide him.

Dark thoughts continued to swirl around Spike’s mind. Where were the monsters that could kill him? Perhaps a dragon and a phoenix were enough to sway most monsters away from them. Unfortunate. With a phoenix by his side, Spike was practically immortal.

How could this have happened? This was a tragedy waiting to happen. The evil dragon terrorizes everypony. Brave ponies keep dying to try to stop the dragon terror, but the dragon is practically immortal. The best way to prevent that worst case scenario would be for the brave knight to kill the dragon while it was still an infant. Slay the dragon. Slay the dragon. Slay the dragon.

I just wish I wasn’t the dragon.

As Spike’s breathing began to speed up, Key began to chirp at him.

He always thought it would be cool to be a knight. But now that he thought about it more, knights slay dragons. He filled the role of both the knight that slays the dragon, and the dragon that dies. He wished he was only the knight. That would be nice. Unfortunately he was both. He needed to be brave like the knight and slay the dragon. Channel the inner knight. Just don’t think about the fact that you’re the dragon too. Just be the knight, just slay the dragon. Your friends are counting on you to die. Be the knight. Slay the dragon. Slay the dra—

“OW!” Spike yelped as Key bit deep into the frill of his ear.

Key squawked at him. Spike hadn’t noticed how much Key had been trying to get his attention.

“Ohh… sorry…” said Spike. I’m so sorry I’m still alive is what he wanted to say. No one would have had this problem if he had just died like he was supposed to. Stupid cockatrice. Stupid phoenix. His death had been absolutely ruined by two different birds.

“Scraaw?” asked Key, who shoved his face in front of Spike’s eyes.

His brilliant red feathers almost made Spike trip over some exposed tree roots. Spike shook his head and tried to remember what he was thinking of…

“Kaaah.”

Spike breathed in and out.

“I’m just not feeling very well,” said Spike.

“Kree?”

Spike shifted his eyes left and right before settling back on Key. He really was just a bird. It couldn’t hurt that bad to let just him know. In reality, it was really just Spike talking to himself.

“Key, can I trust you?”

“Key!” he nodded enthusiastically.

Spike continued to walk, staring down at the forest floor below as the words started forming.

“I… I need to die. I’m a dragon. Dragons always do horrible things to ponies. I’m the odd one out of my group of friends. I’m not a pony. I’m not a girl. I can’t do magic. I’m not an Element of Harmony. I don’t belong. And not belonging is what happened to this other pony that betrayed his friends and went on a rampage. The pony of shadows killed other ponies. That’s going to be me someday, I just know it. So I… I need to die. I need to protect everyone by stopping that villain—myself—before he even starts. The best way to defeat a villain is to make sure they die before they even know they’re a villain.”

The more Spike spoke, the more Key tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

“See… I know you don’t get it. You’re just a bird.”

“SKRAAAAA,” said Key.

“What?”

“SKRAAAAAAAAAAA,” said Key.

“I am doing the best I can! Okay! I’m not like my friends. I’m way worse than them. I have too much potential to hurt ponies. I’ve got to die so I can protect them from myself."

At this, Key began to aggressively peck at Spike.

“OW! Stop that!”

“KREEE!” said Key, continuing to peck at him.

“I have to help any way I can, okay? And the best way I can help is by not being there.”

Key finally stopped pecking at him.

“Y’see?”

“Kehm.”

“Uhh… is that a yes?”

“Keh.”

Spike shrugged. “It’s okay, you don’t understand. Just… well… don’t revive me the next time you see me close to dying okay? It’s what I want. It’s what’s best for my friends, okay?”

Key began to cry, healing all the pecks that he had made on Spike.

More than the pecking, more than anything else Key had done, Spike felt so… sad. Earlier all he had felt was relief that he was going to die… but now a new thought had entered his mind: What if my death isn’t the best for my friends?

Spike stopped walking and slumped down to the ground, holding his arms against his chest as Key cried. Spike began to sniffle as well. And they sat down together and let their emotions take hold for a while.

3) Letter

Spike finally started to calm down when an awful feeling slunk into his throat. He quickly turned his head to the side and surprisingly all that came out was a letter.

Key was alarmed to say the least, squawking at the paper that had magically appeared from Spike’s flames.

“It’s okay Key, it’s just a… umm… letter.”

Spike’s claws were quivering as he opened the scroll. His face grew pale the second he looked at the date at the top. It had been two and a half weeks since he had left the castle.

“Spike, we’ll keep searching for you and sending these letters. I hope you’re okay.”
—Princess Celestia

“Skrawk?” asked Key.

Spike just shrugged.

“I— I know I should reply… but I can’t. I’m… I gotta… I gotta… umm…” Spike tried to say something. He shouldn’t reply because…? Because he was going to die soon? Because he had been gone this long anyway, why not kill himself before they got their hopes up? Because Celestia was contacting a future enemy, she just didn’t know it, and the best way to defeat this enemy was to kill it before it did anything?

Key poked his head in front of Spike’s eyes, forcing Spike to see nothing but orange and red feathers. “Skree?”

Spike sighed. “I guess I should probably reply.”

Before Spike could even find something to write with, a small package burst forth from his mouth.

“Spike! It looks like my last test letter successfully disappeared. I hope that means what I think it means. I’ve sent some ink and a quill. Please reply!”
—Celestia

Spike looked down at the letter and the writing implements. He really didn’t have any excuse now. But what to say? A million thoughts went through his mind: Tried to kill myself, I’ll keep trying. I’m so sorry you have to have this conversation, I promise to try harder next time. I’m so sorry I’m still alive, no one should have to deal with me.

“Kah,” said Key.

He shook his head, and then scribbled: “I’m fine” quickly on the note.

And with a quick fire breath, the letter was gone.

What had he just done!? He gave away that he was still alive! Wait—the letters hadn’t been sending at all, so the instant he was able to receive letters again, that’s where he failed. So to truly stay away from Celestia’s gaze, he would just need to… to stop himself from whatever transportation magic was on himself.

How was he going to do that? How was he able to send and receive letters from his own breath anyway? Was that some spell Celestia put on him? Was he inextricably linked to Celestia? What if, when he died, would Celestia know? Could she find him? How different was petrification from death, really? No one should be able to find him if they had spent two and half weeks looking for him. He would just need to kill himself soon before they found a way to find him.

Where were the monsters? It shouldn’t be this hard to die in the Everfree forest of all place—

Fwoooosh!

Another letter erupted from Spike. It was quite a doozy of a letter too, and it made him feel incredibly nauseous afterwards. The letter managed to unfurl itself, only the intricate origami it was made from took quite some time to completely unravel. And with a sudden POP, the paper blossomed into Twilight.

“Spike!” Twilight lunged towards Spike, practically crashing into him.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? What happened? You were in the Everfree? We’ve been looking for you for so long. Well—we didn’t realize you were missing until a few days ago when we got back, and I’m so SORRY!”

Spike suddenly realized how important it was to pretend to be happy for Twilight. She couldn’t know he had tried to kill himself. If they found that out, they would probably lock him and monitor him all day and night. He’d never die at that rate.

“I’m fine, Twilight!” said Spike, somehow able to procure a smile from out of nowhere. “I got a little lost in the Everfree and got turned to stone by a cockatrice, but Peewee found me, so I’m better now.”

“Peewee?” asked Twilight, suddenly aware of the phoenix on Spike’s shoulder.

“Actually, he goes by ‘Key’ now,” said Spike as Key raised his head taller. “That’s what his parents named him, so uhh… yeah…”

Twilight stared at Spike, analyzing all the cuts, bruises, scrapes and bags under his eyes.

“How have you been, Twilight?” Spike said, giving an awkward smile.

Twilight didn’t answer. Her mane was a mess even for her standards and her eyes betrayed several days of little sleep. She reached out and hugged him with her forelegs, letting her wings drape over him as well.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Spike. I left you alone for too long in that castle, I’m sorry about that. You should’ve come with us.”

Realizing his face was out of view from her, Spike let his guard down and cringed. He usually disliked being in the castle alone, but if he was being watched all the time, being invited to places, it was going to be very hard to kill himself.

“Thank you so much,” said Twilight, looking at the phoenix.

Key gave a short chirp of gratitude.

“Let’s get you home, Spike,” said Twilight, picking up Spike and putting him on her back. “Do you feel up for a ride?”

“Uhh… sure! Yeah! That’d be good,” said Spike. He had said too many words too quickly. Would she notice that that was out of the ordinary? Could she tell how much he wanted to die? How good of an actor was he?

Twilight extended her wings out and jumped into the air, carefully weaving her way through the thick foliage of the Everfree. They burst through the canopy and found themselves bathed in the warm orange rays of the setting sun. Key quickly took to the skies himself, flying alongside Twilight as they made their way back to the castle.

Spike looked down at the ground far below him. A fall from this height might kill him, but he had survived some nasty falls before and had come out alright. Still, all he’d need to do would be loosen his grip on Twilight.

As if his own body were fighting against his mind, he felt himself hold tighter to Twilight.

She didn’t yell or even say anything. And Spike was grateful. It felt so nice to hold tight onto Twilight. He missed being with her as often as he used to. He missed this. Well… maybe not the flying, that still felt a tad unnatural. But being with her… it was nice.

The landscape slowly shifted. Spike really had gotten quite a ways away from Ponyville, considering how long it took Twilight to get back. Had he really gotten all the way out here on his own two feet?

Where had the monsters been? This would have been so much easier for Twilight if he had just managed to die the first time around. She’s gonna be so upset when… he succeeded. He had to succeed someday. It would be a victory for Ponykind, as they wouldn't be under the tyranny of a would be villain. But it might be a temporary loss for Twilight.

But she had lots of friends. She was the princess of friendship now. That meant she really could get along well without him.

He gripped Twilight even tighter, holding close to her and feeling her muscles moving with each flap of her wings. She had gone all the way out here just for him. She had somehow managed to transfigure herself into paper… just for him. He buried his face in her mane and silently wept. Killing himself was going to be really, really hard.

“Twilight?” asked Spike, leaning into her ear.

“Yes?”

The rushing wind made it hard to hear her.

“I… I love you so much, Twi.”

The castle finally crept into view on the horizon.

“I love you, Spike.”

Why did he say that? It was already going to be difficult to die before. But this? This just made everything worse.

But he did love her very much. She needed to know that before he disappeared for good. His death wasn’t due to anything she had done, or forgot to do. He just needed a way to save future ponies from himself. And dying was the best way to do that.

4) Friends

Spike's anxiety was running at full blast as they neared Twilight's Castle. How many ponies would be there? How many ponies had been looking for him? Was there a spell or a potion he could use to erase some of the memories of all the time they spent? His flame breath could magically teleport letters, but they couldn't teleport him away from the shame of still being alive. His insides churned into knots upon knots of pure shame.

At least they don't know I tried to kill myself.

As Twilight landed in front of the castle, Spike took a deep calming breath. He could get through this. He was a good actor.

He thought back to the time he had narrated that Hearth's Warming Eve pageant in Canterlot in front of thousands of ponies. He had been so nervous, but he had just told himself: pretend that you're good at this. And it had all worked out okay.

Pretend that you're good at this.

Spike smiled as he landed. He actually smiled. He was doing this!

Rainbow, Fluttershy and Rarity were near the entrance to the castle.

Pretend that you're good at this. Pretend that you're not going to kill yourself. Just pretend for your friends.

"Darling! Are you all right?" said Rarity, getting closer to him. "You look dreadful!"

"You scared us, little buddy!" said Rainbow, rubbing a hoof on Spike's spikes. "What happened anyway?"

"Just a cockatrice," said Spike, rubbing the back of his head with a claw.

"A cockatrice!?" Fluttershy gasped. "How—how did you escape?"

At that moment, Key took the opportunity to land on Spike's shoulder.

Two thoughts simultaneously entered Spike's mind: An appreciation for Key, as he seemed to almost shield him from these friends of friends. And the horrifying realization that Fluttershy could understand Key, probably exponentially better than he could.

"We can thank Key for that," said Twilight. "Phoenix tears cure cockatrice petrification. I'll have to write a report on this for the Princess."

"Key?" said Fluttershy, her head tilting slightly. "Oh, Peewee!"

"Peewee?" repeated Rarity. "Your pet Phoenix came back, darling?"

Key gave a soft squawk of gratitude.

What had he said? Did Fluttershy know more about what he said than Spike did? That bird could just squawk out Spike's secret to Fluttershy and everything would go horribly wrong.

"Spike, are you feeling alright?" asked Rarity.

His facade was crumbling.

Make an exit.

Make any exit.

"I just... umm... it's been a long day... err week? I uhh... I umm..."

Spike stared down at his muddy, scratched up body. He should be better than this. He had to act normal. ACT NORMAL. PRETEND THAT YOU'RE GOOD AT THIS!

"You want a bath?" asked Twilight.

"YES!" Spike coughed. His mind couldn't even fathom how grateful he was for Twilight's suggestion. "I could really use a long bath."

"I'll say," said Rarity. "Go get cleaned up."

"I might just fall asleep in there, it's been a while," said Spike.

"Another one of your 16 hour bubble baths?" asked Twilight, teasing.

"Honestly, it might be that long. I mean—look at me," said Spike, shrugging. Layers of grime and scratches were caked on his scales in strange ways, and several of his spikes poked out at odd angles.

"Okay, but before you run up, let me send a letter to Celestia," said Twilight. "I gotta let her know you're safe."

"Yep, I gotta go let everypony else know Spike's back," said Rainbow, who proceeded to zoom away at a blinding speed.

Spike spent an agonizing few minutes as Twilight wrote out a letter with her horn. Spike guessed she felt bad about making him write it. It would have been the last letter he wrote for her. When was the last letter he had sent out? He supposed this was the last one now until his death.

"Skrawwk?" said Key, noticing the dark look on his face.

"What did you say, Key?" asked Fluttershy.

Spike jolted in full awareness. "He just thinks I ought to get to sleep soon," said Spike. "But I really ought to get cleaned up first. I have the hardest time falling asleep if I'm too dirty."

Thankfully, Twilight took that moment to hand the letter to him, and Spike sent it on it's way.

With no further need to pretend to be happy around his acquaintances, Spike gave a short farewell and proceeded to head up the steps.

Key lingered back with Fluttershy.

Spike's walking became stilted. What was he going to say? What was he going to say? They can't discover he wants to die. They can't. That kills ponies. Him being alive kills ponies. Pretend that you're good at this.

"Hey, c'mon Key!" Spike said.

To his surprise, the phoenix actually followed, landing on his shoulder as Spike opened the doors and strolled inside.

The faucet had only been on for a few seconds before Spike crawled into the tub and sat down in the puddle of water. The sound of the faucet gushing water masked the sounds of Spike's own crying.

He had failed. He had truly failed. He had not killed himself. Yes—he had safely avoided his acquaintances suspicions. Probably. He could never really tell if he was successful. He just had to live and pretend that his ruse that he wasn't going to kill himself was working. But— but... it wouldn't be so bad... if they didn't care about him so much.

Spike rubbed his eyes as the tears dissolved into his scales.

Applejack, and Pinkie must have still been out looking for him, that's why they weren't there. And everypony else there. Celestia, everyone. All looking for him.

He looked to his right. The crystalline palace shone his reflection back at him. He looked haggard, sleep deprived, and now his eyes were red from crying.

The water had risen enough that Spike could dunk his head underneath the water and let the tears dissolve into the water freely. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be having this bath. His corpse should have been decomposing or digesting inside some creature in the Everfree forest right now.

Spike could just breathe in. It was water after all. Too much of anything could kill anyone. And he could just... take a bath... and never come out.

Sharp talons gripped his spikes, jerking his head above water.

Key fluttered, still holding Spike's head above water.

"Skraaaaawwwwk!" said Key.

"Just let me die, okay!" screeched Spike.

He clasped his claws over his mouth. The castle had the bad habit of reverberating noise. But the faucet was still on. He had to be safe. He had to.

"Skreee!" said Key.

"NO! Don't tell Fluttershy!" Spike said, tears continuing to fall. "Please, please don't."

"Keer."

"I stop with the suicide attempts, you don't tell Fluttershy?" asked Spike.

Key nodded.

Spike couldn't agree to that. He had to die. He just had to. The fate of millions of future ponies depended on his death. He couldn't let them down by continuing to be alive.

But... he couldn't keep doing these cheap methods of suicide. That could just get him caught. He needed to make sure that the next time that he tried anything. That it would actually be effective.

"Okay, I'll stop," Spike lied.

He felt bad about lying. But it was alright. Key could go back to his parents. It would all work out alright.

Spike turned off the faucet and cleaned off his scales with soap, slowly removing the grime and muck from his body. He felt oddly lighter.

He drained the bathtub, rinsing it with the showerhead for a few moments to knock more dirt down the drain. When he was finally completely clean, he turned on the faucet again. Twilight always wondered why he took such long baths. Well, it actually took two baths to truly enjoy it.

The second round of water filled the tub and Spike laid in it for a long time. Key floated in the water like a duck, his heat continuing to keep the bathtub warm long after the water should have gone cold.

Spike's mind went... somehow blank. As if it had somehow thought all the thoughts it needed to today and it was time to stop thinking. Time to stop hurting. Time to... let the water surround him peacefully.

5) Avoidance

It was beyond wonderful to be completely enveloped in the warm water. His entire body felt comfortably numb and warm. Only sleepiness and hunger truly stopped him from relaxing completely.

"Spike, are you okay in there?" said Twilight through the door, her question echoed slightly around the crystal bathroom.

Spike jerked up, splashing Key who chirped at suddenly having water thrown on him.

"Yeah, I'm fine!"

"Okay, well... it's getting late. And I have some gems if you're hungry."

With speed to rival Rainbow Dash, Spike quickly got out the tub, towelled himself, and threw open the door. Thick steam poured out of the bathroom like fog, adding condensation to every crystal surface outside the bathroom.

"Hey Spike!" said Twilight. "You look a lot better!"

"I feel better, too," said Spike. It wasn't a lie. He legitimately felt better after a simple bath. Why had he felt so bad before? Oh—death. His death. The one he ought to stop procrastinating on.

Twilight looked into his eyes, "Is something wrong?"

Spike heard a plucking sound coming from the bathtub; water began to drain. A second later a very damp Key landed on his shoulder. Key made a chirp that Spike could only interpret as: "tell her." Spike froze, trying to get his mind straight again. His mind had been happily empty for quite some time, and to start using it so quickly gave him a feeling of vertigo.

"I could use some sleep," said Spike.

The damp water on Key started to steam and disappear, continuing the slow condensation of the hallway.

"But uhh... could I have some gems first please?"

"There are some in your room," said Twilight.

"Oh, thank you," said Spike. He wasn't sure what else to say to that.

Twilight walked with Spike to his room. She started chatting about the search parties that were assembled for Spike three days ago, but she spotted the embarrassed look on his face and switched the subject to what the ancient bearers had been up to. It sounded like they were facing a lot of culture shock after being missing for a thousand years.

When they arrived at Spike's room, Twilight opened the door for him, revealing that there was a rather large supply of gems of every kind in a bowl near his bed. Spike licked his lips as he gazed on the rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. He hadn't eaten in over a week.

"Do you need some company?" asked Twilight.

Spike had already started gorging himself on gems. He looked back at Twilight and smiled, quickly closing his mouth so as not to show off the gems stuck in his teeth.

"I'll just leave you to it," said Twilight.

"Mmm hmm," mumbled Spike as he continued to chew.

"After you get a good night's sleep, I want to hear all about what happened. But for now, sweet dreams Spike."

She closed the door behind him and all at once Spike realized that he would dream that night. He continued eating at a more voracious rate as the reality of his situation sunk in.

Luna could watch his dreams. He was sure to dream about committing suicide or something dreadful that Luna would ask questions about. His very mind wasn't safe—sleep wasn't safe.

Spike continued eating the gems, downing each and every one, barely chewing on them as he swallowed them. No matter how much he ate, the empty feeling couldn't be filled. His body was getting full, but his heart ached at his new dilemma.

He could just not sleep. That was obviously the safest route. He had been without sleep for... quite some time now. If he could just keep it up, he'd be fine. He had heard about ponies dying from going too many weeks without sleep—perhaps he could do it. It would be a very slow method of dying to be sure. But it would get the job done eventually.

But his friends would notice. Luna would notice. A dragon that didn't sleep was suspicious.

"Keer!" chirped Key.

"I can't go to bed now, I have a problem!" said Spike.

"Kee," said Key. He waved a wing to the bed.

"Not right now, I just.... gotta... think."

How to stop Luna from watching his dreams, but still fall asleep. Well... she couldn't view his dreams if he didn’t dream at all.

Spike threw open the door to his room and scampered his way to the library. Just as he expected, Starlight was sitting there, reading and experimenting with some spell.

"Starlight!" said Spike. "Can I ask a favor?"

She put down her book quickly, getting a good look at Spike. She seemed to take longer at glancing at him than she did normally, as if the former villain could recognize a future villain. "Sure! What do you need?"

"I need a umm... sleeping potion. Going through the Everfree was well..." he put a strained look on his face by pretended to have gone through something horrible. It really wasn't hard to imagine; he just imagined killing all of his friends someday. That was practically guaranteed to happen if he didn't kill himself.

"Ooh... that does look rough."

"Can you get me something so I don't have to dream?" asked Spike.

"No dreams? Well... I suppose. 'You can't have a nightmare if you never dream,'" said Starlight. She winced at the song she had sung herself once upon a time. "Anyway, I think I got just the brew, though you might want to talk to Zecora if you need something stronger. Or maybe just talk to Luna. She's pretty good at dealing with dreams."

Starlight thankfully didn't ask too many questions, and twenty minutes later, Spike had several doses of dreamless sleep in his claws. He had memorized page 293 in the "Useful Herbal Potions" book and was dead set on creating his own version next time, and forever for as long as he lived.

Key gave a quick squawk when Spike came back into the room.

Spike downed the sleeping potion. The effect was instantaneous. It felt like his entire body was growing numb. He quickly crawled into bed and said goodnight to Key, letting the darkness of slumber embrace him.

It felt like it was merely seconds later when he awoke the next morning. He hadn't dreamed. Instead, it felt like he had transported into the future several hours, only his well rested body proof that he had even slept at all.

His mind didn't give him any respite though, and dark thoughts immediately came swirling in, choking any other stray feelings with one single desire: Kill Yourself.

He needed to protect his friends—all of his friends. And the best way to do that was to not be there at all. He had the oddest desire to write it down. A goal not written is only a wish after all. That was why Twilight always kept the most detailed to-do lists. To-do lists were just teeny tiny goals.

Instead of the comfort of putting quill to paper, Spike tried hard to keep the thought at the forefront of his mind. Whatever he was going to do, it was for the ultimate goal of someday dying. He knew that wasn't the most effective goal setting method. After all, any idea not written down had to be remembered. And the mind can only hold a couple of thoughts at once. So Spike would just have to juggle: "Kill yourself" along with all the other thoughts he had to keep track of.

Spike broke down what he needed to do in his head:
Lifelong Goal: Death
Actionable items for today:
Make no progress on Lifelong Goal—focus on damage control on the last attempt
Pretend to be okay

It seemed simple enough. He still needed to think of some good lies to tell Twilight. He wasn't used to lying, but he knew the trick involved telling as much of the truth as possible. Half-truths were the best kinds of lies.

Spike crawled out of bed. There was much work to be done that day. He wasn't sure what it was going to be, but there was always something that Twilight needed done.

After finishing washing up he looked at his room one last time. There wasn't any inherent sign that he was going to kill himself, was there? Was the bed made, but still disheveled enough to be normal? What did his room normally look like? He analyzed the comic books and regular books. There wasn't anything in the way they were organized that would betray his feelings, were there? Just to be sure, he looked at the first letter of every single title, analyzing it to make sure nothing spelled "death" or anything. It all seemed to be properly random. There was no way he could be read into too deeply. For all intents and purposes from the outside, nobody should notice his psychological problems.

That was the key. Don't be noticed. Just help. He had been good at that.

He cringed, thinking of the search party that had spent three days looking for him and the two weeks he had been missing. That was anything but inconspicuous.

His head sagged at the thought, and his eyes found their way to a single orange feather.

"Key!" Spike said, his voice letting out a small squeak. Where was he? Where was he!?

Here Spike was, overanalyzing his bookshelf while that bird could be anywhere. He could be with Fluttershy. He could tell Fluttershy everything. He could—He could!

Spike needed to accelerate his plans.

Everything only worked if he was the only one that knew. But he wasn't. Key knew. He was just a bird but he knew! He knew! He—

And at that very moment, Key flew in through a crack in the window.

Spike raced towards Key unable to think of a proper response to the amount of anxiety he had given him. Spike ended up cautiously standing next to him. "Where did you go?"

"Kree," said Key, as if that explained everything.

Spike frowned, until his mind was able to make some kind of excuse. "You probably eat different things that I used to feed you... so... you went out to umm... eat?"

Key nodded his head.

"Ah! Okay. Okay," said Spike. "Okay. I was— just worried is all."

Key tilted his head to the side.

"About what? Just uhh... stuff... wanted to make sure you were okay is all."

Key's eyes narrowed, piercing Spike with the force as if the whole castle above him fell down and impaled him.

Could phoenixes tell if somepony was lying? They did seem crazy magical. There was a lot Spike didn't know about phoenixes.

Key continued to stare.

"Alright, alright," Spike said, grabbing his tail, almost hugging it as he pulled it closer to himself. "I was just worried you might have talked to someone about me—about my uhh... problem."

Key shrugged.

"What's that supposed to mean!?" asked Spike.

Twilights voice filtered into the room from downstairs. "Spike, it sounds like you're up! Do you want breakfast?"

Spike tried to say yes, but it came out like a sharp screeching sound. He coughed before shouting yes down to the lower floors.

Wait, Twilight shouldn't be doing the cooking. He was supposed to! Spike took one look at Key before bounding downstairs. His feet made small echoes as he skittered to the kitchen, where Twilight was making breakfast while Starlight was reading a book.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" said Spike as he stopped a few feet away from Twilight. His breathing was heavy. Was it supposed to be that heavy? Would they notice it was different? Was he giving subtle clues left and right about the state of his own mind and intentions? He gulped before flashing an ashamed smile. "I should be the one cooking breakfast..."

Twilight looked at him, tilting her head slightly sideways. "You don't have to cook breakfast every morning. I can do just fine myself."

"I think you may have actually added too much salt," said Starlight.

"Nonsense, I measured it precisely," said Twilight.

Starlight's horn glowed as a magical field appeared in front of her eyes and she looked at the small print in the cookbook on the other side of the room. "It says a 'pinch' of salt. You can't really measure that precisely."

Twilight frowned, looking at the instructions again.

"I'm sorry! That book's mine and I use claw pinches, not hoof pinches. You probably added more based on a hoof sized pinch," apologized Spike. "I should have been here."

"It's fine, Spike!" said Starlight. "As Pinkie would say in this situation. If you drown it in sugar enough, anything tastes good." Starlight poured a bigger helping of syrup onto her stack of pancakes.

"Okay, that much sugar cannot be healthy," said Twilight.

"But it does mask the saltiness," said Starlight, taking another small bite. "Salty sweet is the best kind of sweet too."

Twilight took a bite of pancake, chewing slowly before swallowing it. She finally conceded defeat and drowned her own pancakes in syrup. "Why is Pinkie right so often. I mean—she's not right all the time, but it's enough to be annoying... and not to mention unhealthy."

"Mmmhmm," hummed Starlight in agreement as she chewed a particularly large bite.

"Spike, you going to sit down and eat too?" asked Twilight.

Spike became aware that he was still standing and alleviated the awkwardness by swiftly grabbing a stool to sit down. He was a little too quick and the stool nearly clattered to the floor before he saved it and sat on it before anypony noticed.

There was already a plate ready, and Twilight floated an unusually large stack of pancakes onto his plate. Trusting their judgement, he poured a rather excessive amount of syrup.

Was eating really okay to be doing? Wasn't he being wasteful by eating breakfast? I mean—he was going to die anyway. Eating just seemed a waste of Twilight's resources. Yes, she got a nice stipend from Princess Celestia, but that didn't mean perfectly good food should go to waste to someone that was just going to die later. But in a sense... everyone was going to "die later." And eating food certainly wasn't a waste despite the length of someone's life. There were insects that only lived for days that still ate. It's not like it was a waste. But Spike somehow felt that he should be the exception. Someone with a natural death deserved to eat normally. But those like him—that were just going to die soon—what was the point of eating?

"Is my cooking really that bad?" asked Twilight, staring at Spike's plate. He had only eaten a few slow bites.

"Actually, I just ate so many gems last night that I'm really not that hungry right now."

"And it's too salty," said Starlight.

Twilight gave her a sneer.

"What? It's good to be honest," said Starlight.

Twilight rolled her eyes before taking another large bite. "Well, I think they taste fine."

Spike took a few more bites of pancake to give off the illusion that he was a good guest. But also not too quickly so as not to ruin his own alibi from earlier that he was full. Wait—he wasn't a guest. This was his home, wasn't it? But he was going to die soon, so he must be a guest in the world of the living.

"Well, enough about my cooking. Spike, you were feeling pretty messed up last night. Are you up to talking about what happened now?"

Starlight nodded in agreement.

Spike froze, trying to think of what to say to that. Perhaps he should have dreamed properly last night. He had read that dreaming helped solidify thoughts and memories and make better sense of the world around him. He hadn't really gotten that. But there really wasn't anything he could have done with Luna watching, so that wasn't the best solution.

"Uhh..." said Spike. "Which part?"

"How did you get turned to stone in the middle of the Everfree forest?" asked Starlight. "That's a bit unusual for you, to say the least."

Lie. Tell the truth. Lie. Tell a half-truth. Ambiguously untruthful?

"Well... y'see..." Spike tried to stall, anxiously awaiting his mind to come up with the ideal response, but nothing came. At least nothing good.

Stone. Turned to stone. Discord got turned to stone once. And Twilight had told him he was the new Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash liked...

"Flying," said Spike.

"What?" asked Twilight.

"That didn't come out right. I mean... uhh... adventure... really."

"Adventure?" asked Starlight.

Spike's brain started running at the top speed of frozen molasses trying to figure out how on earth the rest of the conversation was supposed to go with the vague prompts of 'flying' and 'adventure.'"

Twilight gave him a concerned look.

Spike coughed. "Okay, here's the truth. It's a little embarrassing. I, well... I wanted to prove to myself that I could go on adventures too. I mean, you always go off around Equestria with your friends on grand adventures and I'm not invited all that often. So I thought I could toughen myself up by going on a little adventure of my own. Just go into the Everfree forest and back safely. My original goal was to go in and out of the Everfree forest once a day until you all came back. Just to boost my own adventuring experience, I guess. But well... it backfired. The first time I even went out, I got petrified. So... yeah..."

Spike's inner mind was positively beaming at his own lie. It was amazing! He deserved a medal for what his tongue was able to do that his mind somehow wasn't able to.

"You went out to the Everfree forest... for an adventure?" asked Twilight.

"Yes. And I uhh... I guess I got one," Spike smiled sheepishly.

"I'll say," said Starlight. "Not many ponies can say they've been petrified and lived to see it through."

Twilight said nothing. She left her food half eaten as she stared at Spike.

Spike gulped. "I—I'm sorry."

She got up from her stool and neared Spike.

He thought she was about to hit him or hurt him or something. He probably deserved it too. No—he deserved death. Anything less than that was a tragedy.

Twilight embraced him. It would have been a very good hug except Spike's claws were slightly sticky from the syrup and he would feel awkward if he got her mane sticky so he just hugged her back without letting his claws get close to her.

"I'm so sorry, Spike."

"Wait, what do you have to be sorry for?"

Twilight stepped back. "I've been leaving you alone all this time. I thought it'd be easier for you. I mean—you are a baby dragon, and you haven't really complained that much before about not going everywhere I go. So I thought it was fine."

Spike stared at her.

"Do you want to go on more adventures when they crop up?"

Spike didn't know what to say, so he nodded his head and hoped that was the correct answer.

She embraced him again. "I'm so sorry Spike. I'll fix this, okay? I'll take you on some adventures. You don't need to prove yourself to go with me. You're my number one assistant, and no one can ever take your place."

Spike's stomach churned as she said those words.

It had been easy to think about killing himself when he thought nopony cared. But... Twilight cared. She really did care. His death was supposed to solve problems. Twilight wouldn't have to worry about Spike anymore. There's no need to worry about a problem that's not there.

But if she cared this deeply? His death would hurt.

It didn't matter that he would die. It mattered that Twilight would have to face that death and not understand.

Killing himself was going to be more difficult than he thought.

6) Patience

Twilight gave Spike the choice between doing nothing and working on castle chores.

Spike was surprised to say that he'd prefer the chores. It gave him something to do.

He was the kind of dragon that always needed to be doing something with his claws. They couldn't just be doing nothing. And he worried that any spare minute he devoted to thinking would inevitably lead him to thinking about how much he ought to kill himself.

But at least the chore he gave himself today was his favorite—wander the castle looking for extra crystal growth. Despite all expectations, the castle seemed to want to keep growing. If he gave it a few centuries he was sure the castle would end up engulfing the town. But with careful planning—well, gnawing—the castle's crystals could be kept at bay.

The crystal only grew where it thought it could expand, either by cutting rooms in half, or growing slow stalks of crystal that would someday form more towers. Spike clawed at one line of bumps where the castle was trying to form stalagmites of crystal, bisecting a rather large living room. His right claw broke apart the crystal while his left flattened it out with a chisel. He gnawed on some of the crystal, but it was so sugary he ended up throwing most of it in a basket to eat later.

He was actually grateful there was so much crystal accumulated in the two weeks he was gone. He had the habit of nipping any spare crystal growing so he could have more of the sugary gems. But there was a lot of work today, which led to even more of the tasty gems. He just wished they changed flavors a little bit. As of now they had a kind of grape amethyst mix that was really good the first hour of snacking but got old after that.

Without Spike's help, at the rate the castle grew, it would grow into the size of the castle in Canterlot in a few centuries.

Spike blew fire on the crystal and smoothed it out with the chisel, leaving the floor completely flat.

A few centuries wasn't all that long by dragon standards. If Spike wasn't there, perhaps the castle would grow into a large palace that many could call home. There would be adventurers, dignitaries, the princess herself, and her entourage; it could become a very large castle indeed. Actually... it could have more than guests. Spike wasn't sure how Twilight felt about having a family of her own, but centuries was a very long time for even a princess. Perhaps she'd have a husband... or several dead husbands by that point. And the castle would be full of her children, grandchildren... great-grandchildren and more.

It could literally end up becoming a family tree.

But if it was a family tree... did that mean that Spike was invited? Twilight had practically raised him, so maybe he belonged... but he certainly wasn't biologically related.

Spike shook his head, focusing on smoothing out a particularly bumpy outgrowth of crystal.

In that time hundreds of years from now... would his life be wanted? Would Twilight regret keeping Spike around. He was a dragon. He was destined to be a villain.

But Twilight also threw a wrench in his plans, she cared about him. How much did she care? Would she care if he just died? Would it matter all that much to her?

Of course it would. Twilight has been... well... she wasn't all that kind... she had improved by leaps and bounds from the slapstick physical abuse she used to put him through. But she never wanted him dead.

Spike looked around the room. The crystal growths had been completely smoothed over and his basket of castle gems was considerably fuller.

He meandered around the castle, looking for growths. He found another set in the library. This growth seemed to want to form a crystal chandelier. It was no bigger than the size of Spike's fist, but it was slowly reaching out from the ceiling with a delicate looking crystal pillar. He wandered around it, watching as the light diffused into it, forming a teeny tiny rainbow on the other side of the room.

If he left it alone, what would happen? Would it be beautiful? Or would it just be a hazard? It really could go both ways. It could get bigger and bigger, forming a frozen fractal in the center of the library, emanating serenity for all to see whenever they chanced to look away from their books. Or, it could grow and grow in grotesque ways, eventually growing so big that it would fall from the ceiling, impaling all the ponies who were studying below it.

Or perhaps it was both? A beautiful disaster waiting to happen. The crystal chandelier would grow bigger and more gorgeous, attracting ponies to spend time in this room. However, it would betray them when it inevitably fell, murdering all those that had admired it so. Beautiful and deadly.

Knowing that—what was the best route?

Kill it now just in case it might hurt ponies later? Or let it grow and see what happens?

Should he kill himself now, or wait and see what happens?

The answer was obvious: NOW!

Spike grabbed the ladder that was usually reserved for the books and jammed it in between two solid tables. The result of the table sandwich was a very sturdy ladder that he scampered up to pluck off the chandelier.

Twilight, who must've heard the noise of Spike moving the tables, took that moment to come out of a side study room. "Spike, what are you doing?"

"Woa—oh!" Spike wobbled on the ladder before holding onto it much tighter and glancing down to Twilight below. "I'm getting rid of this growth."

"Aww... you sure? It looks like it would make a pretty chandelier."

Since when did Twilight have any sense of what looked good or not?

"But it could grow too big, and then it might break and kill somepony."

Twilight gave him a look as if she had just taken a bite of a particularly sour lemon. "I don't think the castle would do something like that," said Twilight. "It gave us the map and everything."

Spike reached out to the chandelier in embryo. His claws were just out of reach of it. "Do you really want to risk it though?"

Twilight shrugged. "I don't see why not. It'll look great!"

Spike stopped reaching for the chandelier and looked down at Twilight. He could feel tears start to form in his eyes, but he desperately fought them back. Twilight couldn't see him behave like that.

He quickly skittered down.

"Well...is there any other place in the castle to take care of?" Spike said, trying to mask his quivering voice as exertion from moving the tables back to their normal spots.

Twilight's horn glowed and the tables returned to their usual spots while the ladder navigated its way home. "I think some of the towers grew a little, but you've been working all morning. Do you want to break for lunch?" asked Twilight.

"Umm... maybe later," said Spike as he ran off.

He needed to find a corner to cry in.

He rushed towards a bathroom near the entrance of the castle—the one no one ever used. The door made a satisfying clicking noise when as he locked it behind him.

Did Twilight really want him? Did she really, really want him to be around?

If it was a choice between keeping him alive, and letting some other random pony be alive, who would she pick?

No—that's not her decision to make. It was his. And he chose to protect others from himself.

Protect. Protect others. That's all he needed to do.

Shining Armor was good at protecting others, he even got his cutie mark as a shield so he could protect the ones he loved. Spike wanted to protect the ones he loved. But if he got a cutie mark... wouldn't it just be a dead dragon? The best way to protect his friends from the inevitable accidental deaths he might cause was just to die. He just had to die. The best protection from an attack was to make sure that attack never happened in the first place.

He had decided that! He just needed to follow through.

But would his death really save more lives? Twilight could potentially live thousands of years. Would Twilight be distraught enough at Spike's suicide that it would be a thorn in her side all those years? There's some psychological damage that never fully heals.

If he calculated the worth of a pony's life by the length of their lifespan, and assumed Twilight was going to live 10 times the length of a normal pony then that would make Twilight worth ten other ponies (at least—this was Twilight he was talking about).

The distress Twilight may feel from the psychological damage of finding him dead would probably cause about two lifetimes worth of pain over a ten lifetime period... meaning that if Spike managed to accidentally kill only one pony over the course of his long life, then that would even out.

Where was he getting these fake numbers from? Twilight taught him better than this!

No—I'm not that important to her. I'm not. I can't be. She—

He was just a helper. She wouldn't possibly be distraught if he just... died. Would she? It wouldn't cause agony would it?

Spike smacked himself on his snout. She would be distraught. She—they—EVERYONE had JUST spent three days looking for him. Was he losing his memory too? That was yesterday for crying out loud!

He knocked his head against the wall of the bathroom, causing him to wince in pain as his snout hit it at just the wrong angle. He felt a little bit of blood start to come out of his nostrils. Dark drops fell onto the crystal floor, mixing with a few tears. He grabbed some toilet paper and stuffed it up his nose.

The real question in all this—the one he had been trying to answer and had been dancing around in his dark thoughts was this: How could Spike do the most good: by being alive, or by being dead?

He didn't feel qualified to ask that question to himself. Truth be told, he had gotten too used to the idea of dying. It had become very comfortable to think about. He wouldn't need to do chores anymore. He wouldn't have to cause any unnecessary annoyance or discomfort to anyone. He couldn’t cause any problems if he's not there to begin with.

But taking the opposite approach: would being alive solve more problems than not? He was already a helper. But... he didn't help that much.

He wasn't qualified to answer his own questions, he was too much in his own head. He just needed to write down some of these ideas, and maybe he could try to reason out his feelings on all this? No—he couldn't do that. Let's say he did write out how much he wanted to kill himself. That would be something for Twilight to find after the fact.

Okay, he could make the plan to destroy anything that was written. It wouldn't be that hard. He had flames that literally came out of his mouth. He could just turn all his notes about his own suicide to cinders before anyone even noticed.

But what if he accidentally used the wrong flame!? It was trivial to switch between flames for Princess Celestia and regular flames. He had made the mistake on more than one occasion. What if he ended up sending his suicide plans to Celestia? What happened to suicidal ponies? He had heard lots of rumors that they threw them in a dungeon and drugged them with potions until they didn't want to kill themselves anymore. Which really made no sense whatsoever. Anyone in a dungeon would probably want to kill themselves even more. That rumor must not have been true—where had Spike heard it from?

What happened to suicidal ponies? That could possibly explain what might happen to him. How would he even find that out?

Spike breathed in and then breathed out slowly.

Too many unanswerable questions. Too many what-ifs. Too many... too much... thinking.

He was unlikely to accidentally kill anypony today. So that meant he didn't need to think about how he ought to kill himself today. Today's worrying was done... he just... needed to...

He stared at the floor. He hadn't realized he had been pacing back and forth, and some of the blood from his nosebleed earlier had been tracked all over the bathroom floor.

Spike couldn't help but breathe in sharply at all the stains he had tracked, which caused his snout to make a funny sounding whistling noise.

There were cleaning supplies down the hall, but not in the bathroom itself. He propped up one of his legs onto the sink, rinsing off the blood one foot at a time. Then he grabbed some toilet paper and tried to see how much he could get rid of.

He wet down a clump of the paper and tried to wipe down a spot. It came out... but slowly. He'd be stuck there for hours at this point.

He flushed the toilet, getting rid of some of the blood stained toilet paper. All he'd have to do is run to the supply closet down the main hallway and then come back. It would be twenty seconds at most.

Spike swung open the door and rushed down the hallway, not looking back, focused fully on the task at hand. His claws grappled with the handle on the supply closet as he quickly grabbed the crate of cleaning supplies, and then reversed course back to the bathroom.

That was when he heard a quiet gasp coming from the bathroom.

"Oh my," said a voice inside.

Spike quickly knocked on the door. "Umm... sorry, I wasn't exactly finished in there yet."

Fluttershy exited out of the bathroom her hair masking her eyes. "Umm... Spike... are you o—? Oh goodness you have a nosebleed! Goodness!"

Spike was suddenly very aware of the wads of toilet paper stuffed up his nostrils, and that they were probably slightly drenched in blood.

"Yes, I just need to clean up the mess I made. Sorry, lemme in there real quick."

With that, Spike stole into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He heard a knock on the door.

"What is it!?" he asked.

"Are there any other bathrooms in the castle?" asked Fluttershy through the door.

"What!?" asked Spike, talking a little louder than normal through the door. "There's at least ten bathrooms! Were you waiting for this one!?"

"Umm... yes..."

"For how long!?" asked Spike.

"Umm... a little while. I don't like to interrupt."

Spike didn't know very many swear words, but now would really be the opportune time to use one of them. But the least tame phrase he knew was Sweet Celestia, which really did not fit how he was feeling at that moment. "Is this the only bathroom in the castle you've ever used!?"

"Yes... I find it awkward to ask for the bathroom, so I just... don't."

Spike sighed. "There's another bathroom down the hall and to the left."

"Thank you!" Fluttershy squeaked as she rushed down the hallway.

Spike started cleaning the floor. He felt very uncomfortable using the same cleaning potions with which he had tried to kill himself recently. But it really was the most effective way to clean the floor. It didn’t help that the crystal was so finicky, and required the highest quality potions to let it shine properly.

A few minutes later, the bathroom looked as pristine as it ever had. Spike cleaned off his feet and made sure he was presentable. His nosebleed had clotted enough that he could take out the toilet paper stuffed up his snout.

He got to breathe in and out a few times before there was another knock at the door.

“Umm… Spike?” said Fluttershy

“Yeah, what is it?”

“When you’re done, I’d love to talk with you a little bit about Key.”

Spike’s heart immediately decided it was time to prepare for a sprint across Ponyville, but his brain tried very, very, very hard to avoid that by leaving his feet firmly planted on the ground. Which only ended up making his blood pump so hard to the point that Spike considered shoving more toilet paper back up his snout in case he got another nosebleed.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew how to take care of him.”

Spike took a deep breath, tried not to think too deeply about how much of a liability this bird had become, and opened the door.

Key squawked and landed on Spike’s shoulder as Fluttershy led the way to a side room with some couches.

Spike instinctively felt like he was supposed to offer tea or something, but the kitchen was actually quite far away from this side room, and really, what was the point of anything anymore.

“So, you probably have a lot of questions about phoenixes, Spike. I mean—this is only the second case I’ve ever heard of phoenixes being domesticated.”

Key gave a flat “keer” sound.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that, Key. I just mean that you want to hang around ponies, or dragons, in this case.”

Key chirped back a curt reply.

“Oh, is that so?” said Fluttershy.

Key continued to chirp, going into several long sentences of what must have been a very detailed conversation. Spike could only understand bits and pieces, but whatever it was made him very anxious.

“Well… hmm…” said Fluttershy as Key continued.

Spike safely managed to avoid his eyes widening in fear. He was good actor. A very good actor. He just needed to pretend that he was good at this.

“Did you catch all that?” asked Fluttershy.

Spike’s throat was too dry to respond properly, but he eventually coughed out, “Not exactly.”

“It seems Key thinks you’re in some kind of danger, and as your friend he would like to spend a lot of time with you as you’re going through this.”

Key nodded his head.

Spike felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t exactly been appreciative of Key lately. He was such a hindrance to his plans. But Key was a friend that wanted to keep Spike alive. Perhaps this whole “wanting to die” thing was just temporary? Is that what Key was trying to do, help Spike through this rough patch until the suicidal thoughts went away? But they wouldn’t go away. This wasn’t a phase. The only way to get rid of the suicidal thoughts was to follow through.

“That’s very loyal of you, Key,” said Fluttershy. “I’m glad Spike has a friend like you.”

Spike felt himself grow warm, as if the flames in his stomach wanted to burn him for everything he ever felt. He felt guilty for eventually killing himself. But also felt guilty for those that actually cared about him. Maybe he could just become so mean that no one could possibly want him to be alive? No—for Spike it would be impossible to be that maliciously unkind toward others. He just didn’t have the heart to do it. He supposed he could blame ponies for him being unable to think that way. Other dragons seemed to have no trouble hurting others.

“So, what’s this danger you want to protect Spike from?” asked Fluttershy to Key.

Spike looked at Key, his eyes drooping. He really was at the mercy of this bird. This “friend.” Why had he ever trusted him. How could he have been so stupid?

Key chirped back to Fluttershy.

“Ah, it’s a personal matter. Alright.”

Spike looked up, the connection between his ears and brain unable to fully understand what had just happened. Key gave Spike a knowing look.

“Well, Spike. If you ever need someone to talk to about your personal problems, I… well… I’ve been through a lot myself in my life,” her eyes went distant in that moment, as if a lot of fears had zoomed to her mind and then been banished in a fraction of a second. “You can talk to me, Spike. I help Discord with his issues, so I… well… I’m pretty good at listening.”

Wait—how much had Key let slip to Fluttershy? The way she was talking, she had some idea of… something. But what?

“Does that sound alright?”

“Huh?” said Spike.

“I mean… if you would like to, we can talk sometime. I can even help translate Key’s speech for you. I can just pretend to forget everything afterwards if you need a long conversation with him.”

“I uhh… thanks. But no thanks,” Spike said.

“Are you sure? Well I suppose I could teach you to understand his speech better if you’d like. Would you like that?”

Key gave an enthusiastic nod at this.

What was the point of learning new things if he was going to die soon anyway? Spike tried to shove his thoughts down to give a good response. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

Key cooed excitedly, his eyes slightly squinting as if smiling.

“Sounds like Key would definitely like that! I’m free Monday and Thursday mornings if you want to swing by my cottage with him.”

Key squawked something that sounded like a yes.

“Well, Key sounds ready! I’ll see you on Monday, Spike.”

Fluttershy stood up and was about to leave the room before she turned around. “Oh, before I go…”

Spike’s anxiety flared up, his heart starting to race again.

“Key can take care of himself when it comes to food. But if you have extra ash, burnt wood, or even roasted seeds and nuts, he’d appreciate it.”

Key nodded.

Finally, Fluttershy left the castle.

Spike took all the adrenaline that had been penting up during the whole encounter and used it to scamper up the stairs all the way back to his room, Key following quickly behind him. The second Spike got to his room, he slammed the door and collapsed onto the floor.

It took several minutes of heavy breathing before his heart rate returned to normal.

“Key… how much does Fluttershy know?”

Key only stared at him with a doleful look in his eyes.

“You didn’t tell her everything, but she knows enough to want to help me.”

Key nodded.

Spike said nothing.

Key chirped up, his eyes slightly mournful.

The meaning wasn’t lost on Spike. It was as if he was saying: “I am going help you, and I’ll do my best to keep your secrets...”

Key squawked. “...up until a certain point.”

“Okay, Key,” said Spike, sighing. “I’ll… keep trying to get… better then.”

Key smiled.

Dying was going to be so hard with him around.

7) Magic

The safest method of suicide would involve him disappearing completely without a trace, ideally destroying the fact that he had ever existed in the first place. He had done too much good in his life so far, so going back in time to cause himself to never be born was out of the question. And well beyond his magical skillset.

The only spell he ever really learned was to send and receive letters. It happened so subconsciously that he hadn't been aware that he even was using dragon magic to unleash it.

Magic could do incredible things. And if he cast the right spell, it would leave him to disappear completely. It was in this state of pondering that a thought that had been sequestered away for a long time bubbled to the surface:

How to cease to exist: just go to the end.

The end of existence was a real time when the entire universe would die, when all stars have long since died and nothing but blackness envelops existence. He had read about the place before in Star Swirl's journals and other time related books that Twilight had had him study. It was extremely easy to mess up time magic. And "The End" technically encompassed the vast amount of the lifespan of the universe.

If "The End" was anything like space itself, it would be incredibly cold, nearing absolute zero. So the cold should kill him. And if that didn't do the trick, then the lack of oxygen certainly would. Barring that, he wouldn't have food or anything. Death was the only way for a visit to the end of universe to work out.

The idea gave Spike the main goal he needed to accomplish. He just needed to learn enough about time magic to completely botch it—just go into the future by the maximum amount he possibly could.

The next month of Spike's life was spent casually biding his time doing chores and other tasks from Twilight while he covertly studied dragon and time magic.

Of course he botched being covert almost immediately. He accidentally sent a large chunk of his bookshelf to Celestia and then had to awkwardly explain in a letter what had happened. Celestia had actually been quite excited to see Spike experimenting with the lost art of dragon magic and sent Spike every scroll she had about pyroturgy. Spike felt really bad about deceiving her, but the letters really did help him figure things out faster.

Dragon magic mostly involved the breath. His own letters always produced a green flame, but trying to perform any kind of time magic created a light blue flame. He ended up practicing on a few small spells first, some tiny bits of telekinesis (yellow flame), a heating spell (orange flame), and even a light purple flame that he could control after he casted it, which created a lilac stream of fire Spike played around with for hours.

He kept practicing the time spells though. He only needed to cast it once, and that was it. No going back in time—that was WAY too complicated—just enough to get to the end. Most of the books on time magic emphasized fine tuning it, like making sure the caster arrived at the very moment and second he or she was supposed to. Or to emphasize the teleportation aspect of it, ensuring that the location of where they were in space would properly land them on the same planet as before. Equestria sure did like to move around the cosmos, constantly falling somewhere. But that kind of stuff didn't matter to Spike. No pinpoint accuracy. No teleportation. Just the edge of infinity.

After a month of practice, Spike got a letter from Princess Luna.

She asked him why she hadn't been able to see his dreams in a long time and her personal desire to help him out. It really was a touching letter.

But Luna had been through so much already. These suicidal thoughts that Spike was having, they had to be contagious. If he accidentally shared his thoughts and dreams of suicide with the Princess Luna, she'd probably be infected by his line of thinking. No—he had to keep Luna safe from his own thoughts.

It's why he couldn't leave a letter or anything behind to explain what had happened. When he committed suicide he would cause others to contemplate their own mortality. He couldn't do that! He had to protect them from his own thoughts. They were toxic and were his own demons to fight, not anyone else's. What if—by other people knowing that he had died by suicide—he accidentally encouraged other suicides? That would be utterly terrible. No—keep everything hidden.

He was a good actor. He had even left Key rather fooled about his plans. To the phoenix it just looked like Spike had taken by a new obsession with magic. He didn't expect a thing.

No—Key would let it slip that Spike committed suicide.

But still—disappearing would leave a less drastic impact to Twilight and the others than seeing a bloody body on the floor.

He kept trying to think of a good response to Luna's letter. But could never make any headway in actually answering it. Another two weeks flew by as Spike poured his heart and soul into draconic magic. Only the few annoying interruptions by language lessons from Fluttershy or banal life things kept him from his practice.

And practice he did, spitting out all kinds of sky blue flames in an attempt to get something working. And a month and a half after he started, a genuine sky blue inferno of appeared in front of him.

The fire swirled in sky blue and turquoise with deep navy lightning snaking it's way across the flames. The portal and it's haze of fire magic beckoned him inside. He could only say yes. It was all he had ever wanted. It was the culmination of all his practice, effort, and dreams.

He stared at the portal in disbelief, and then smiled. It was over now.

He was over now.

He entered the portal.

8) Void

He felt his entire body spaghettify, elongating into a grotesque noodle of seemingly infinite length. The conduit to the end of all things stretched him. It felt like he had the spade of his tail still back in his present while the tip of his snout had arrived at The End.

The second his eyes saw The End, his entire body snapped to the future all at once, winding up completely into his normal self. There should have been a sound when his body snapped together, but the void at the end of the universe was quiet and calm, despite his intrusion.

When Spike arrived at the end of all things, he had expected absolute zero temperature, complete darkness, and no way to breathe. The lack of everything should kill him instantly. Instead, everything just felt calm. There were no stars to look at. And even though Spike didn't breathe, it didn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, he didn't feel much of anything... except the peace that he would no longer hurt anyone. He had done it. He was at The End and that was all that mattered.

Spike's entire being drank in the void. Each of his scales embraced the darkness and his eyes couldn't imagine a scene more tranquil than nothing at all. He couldn't imagine ever being happier and more calm ever again. He wasn't there! He wasn't anywhere! And that meant he wasn't going to hurt anyone. Ever. No more good things—which was a worthy sacrifice to ensure that there wouldn't be anymore bad things.

Nothing.

Just himself, naked and alone at the end of all existence in the inky darkness.

Spike spent a long time drifting there, blanketed in the darkness, reveling in the joy that everyone was now safe from him. All the good and bad he might've done were now over, and it didn't mean anything billions of years later. Everyone was safe, and so was he.

He wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but he must have died. In his many efforts to die, he hadn't really considered an afterlife. But now that he was here, it was exactly what he wanted: nothing.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He smiled at his new state, drifting along, letting the lack of gravity make him slowly fall towards an infinity that would never end. He was finally dead and that was all that mattered.

After what felt like weeks of calm, black serenity, an awful idea stabbed the very back of Spike's mind. It then percolated around until it encompassed his entire being, causing a deep pain from the very top of the spikes on his head, to the tips of his toes.

He wasn't supposed to still be here.

Granted, Spike had expected and hoped for nothing. But he wasn't supposed to be conscious. To actually experience thoughts and even... a sense of time passing!? No—the afterlife wasn't supposed to be like that.

He wasn't supposed to "experience" anything. He was supposed to become the void—not just be surrounded by it. If he was experiencing time, and time was supposed to be non-existent at The End, that meant that this black darkness was going to be his only companion for the endless duration that is eternity.

This was the worst afterlife he could've imagined.

Did that mean he wasn't actually dead? Death was supposed to be non-existence. And the fact that Spike was still thinking and breathing and in general observant of his thoughts and feelings was not death as it was supposed to be.

Spike breathed a sky blue flame, trying to reconstruct the time spell. He had NEVER meant to try to ever come back. He didn't know about pinpointing the right time to land or the right teleportation aspects to it—anything. His eyes had glazed over even attempting to understand those enigmatic spells.

He spent the next few hours trying to mess with the time spell, but the one portal he was able to construct took him right back to the void.

At the realization that he was truly stuck at The End, Spike clutched at himself, forming a tight ball of purple scales. Tears clung to his eyelids in the zero gravity environment. The large drops didn't adequately represent the agony of how much he wanted to rip himself apart. This isn't what he wanted! He wanted to protect others against himself! But here? He couldn't protect himself against himself. He would spend the rest of eternity endlessly trying to stop thinking and being unable to. He couldn't shut off his consciousness from unceasingly thinking about his own sorry predicament.

He kept trying to wipe off the tears from his eyes, but even flicking them away caused the drops to orbit around him like his own personal never ending rainstorm.

In the midst of his sobs, he said his first words aloud in weeks.

"Help me... please."

The words barely came out more than a whisper, but he truly meant them. He couldn't protect himself from his own endless thoughts. He couldn't do this on his own anymore—if he had ever been able to at all.

"Somepony, some creature, anyone... please help me." He flung off a few more teardrops away from his eyes, but they promptly started orbiting him.

The void didn't respond.

"Please..."

"Umm..." said the void.

Spike's eyes went wide, and he noticed the tiniest bits of light far away. It was the darkness of the night of a new moon, except he couldn’t see distinct stars. It was as if a shadow had decided to become light and diffuse itself all across The End.

He did his best to clear his eyes away and saw his own distorted reflection in some kind of mirror. The tears he had orbiting around him collided with the spectral image of himself, slowly making what Spike was talking to clearer. It was a perfect metallic orb that reflected all light. The moisture started pooling on the surface of the orb.

"H—Hello?" said Spike. "W—who are you?"

"Umm..." repeated the orb.

"Umm...?" said Spike.

"Yes, exactly!" said the orb.

Spike's emotions curved completely to the other side the universe. "Your name is Umm?"

"Yes," said Umm. "What brings you all the way out here, Spike?"

"You—you know me?"

"Well yeah," said Umm. "That form isn't that common. Though it is strange seeing you like this... now of all places. Very strange. What brings you to The End, Spike?"

Spike had a lie ready. He had been lying for a long time now, always prepared to tell the right half-truth to avoid letting it slip how suicidal he really was. But... no. Whatever Umm was, it didn't matter anymore. It didn't need to be protected from himself, physically or mentally.

"I came here to die, but it didn't work."

"No... death never really works out how we would like it to, sorry to disappoint you."

Spike didn't know what to say to that.

"How do you know know what death is like?" asked Spike.

"I've died many times, Spike, long before I first met you. I've committed suicide thousands of times. There's really no end to existence. There's always another afterlife. But I eventually found an afterlife—a universe I liked. Though I didn't really think I'd make it this far into it. But I liked it here very much. I'll be sticking around to watch it cycle soon enough."

"It doesn't end?" Spike asked. "Ever?"

The orb gave no clues to its feelings and expressions, but it was almost like it was shrugging in the darkness. "No."

"Then death doesn't mean anything!" shouted Spike.

"On the contrary, it does cut you off from your previous life. There are quite a few consequences for death. But if you were hoping for a nice place to cease to exist entirely, I confess that you will be disappointed for an exponential trillions of years, and beyond. I know I used to be. But... well... it worked out for me."

"HOW!?" asked Spike.

"I like this place. Or at least the universe that used to be here before it all disappeared. But soon it will all congregate together again and explode again into a big bang. I'll recreate it and keep having fun. It'll be nice."

"What was so great about this universe?"

"I made a lot of friends here... enjoyed a lot of chaotic scenarios I had never seen before. Fell in love, and we've been together ever since."

"Friends, really? But what happens when you inevitably betray them?" asked Spike.

"It's not inevitable. And even if that happens, well... there's forgiveness. I wouldn't be where I am today without several large doses of forgiveness in many directions. You should probably forgive yourself."

"What do I have to forgive myself for?"

"For all those suicidal thoughts and feelings. It's not like they're permanent. They ebb and flow every so often, especially for one as moderately long lived as you are. They happen. But they're not completely you."

Spike wasn't sure how to respond to that. "But I have to protect my friends by not being there! I have to die."

"Spike, take it from me. You're fine. You don't need to protect others from yourself. You're quite good at staying in control of yourself. And even when you're not, you have friends that forgive you."

"You can't know that! You can't know that things work out!" shouted Spike.

"Spike, I know your future intricately more than you. You're fine. Just trust me on this."

"How do you know?"

"I was there."

Spike stared exasperated at the orb. "What?"

"I think I may need to split up, just so you get it."

To Spike's horror, an eagle's talon sprouted out of the orb and made a snapping sound. Light appeared around himself and Umm started tearing itself apart in front of him. The yin and yang of the two creatures slurped away from each other and amalgamated into new forms. The black mass on the left turned gray and started growing fur, feathers, a horn and many other shapes in between. While the white mass on the right formed into yellow fur and pink hair, before a rush of feathers sprouted out from her.

The one on the right stood up, a single antler protruding from her head.

"Actually, I think that one used to be mine," said the long serpentine creature to the pegasus, plucking off her antler and attaching it to himself.

"Yikes, this form is really suited for a planet, huh?"

"You're telling me, this is so strange," he said, wiggling himself into something that made sense to himself.

Spike could only stare in shock at the sight of them. "Fluttershy and Discord?"

"Ah yes! That was my name. It's been so long!" said Discord.

"You didn't really forget, did you?" asked Fluttershy.

"Almost. I mean, billions of years is a really long time. It took me forever to remember Spike back there."

"Umm is a much better form for remembering things," said Fluttershy. "I feel like I lost all my intelligence in this form."

"Yeah... I can't stay like this for long," said Discord, who was shaking slightly.

"I don't understand," said Spike, his eyes bulging at the sight of them. "How? Why? For how long? What!?"

Fluttershy peered at Discord, "Are we supposed to answer? Does that break time or anything?"

"I can't make heads or tails in this form," said Discord, his eyes unable to be separated from Fluttershy's. "I'm getting a headache trying to think without you."

Fluttershy looked back at Spike, "Can we answer your question as Umm? We just aren't ourselves right now."

Spike just stared at them before slowly nodding his head.

"Phew!" said Discord and Fluttershy in unison as they slammed into each other, their yin and yang darkness and light amalgamating into the mirrorlike orb that was Umm.

"That's so much better, you have no idea!" said Umm.

If Spike had gravity, he would have sat down on a chair, instead he just floated there exasperated.

"Now, what was your question again?"

"H—how did you manage to become... well... this?" said Spike, gesturing to the orb.

"That is a stupidly long story. You want that now!?" said Umm. "Okay, long story short: Love."

"Great, that explains everything," said Spike curtly.

"Spike... sometimes after billions of years, you find out things about yourself that you wouldn’t expect."

Spike didn't know how to respond to that.

"Let's take things back to you. We are a little harder to explain," said Umm, as if it was chuckling at its own joke. "Now, you're in your suicidal phase. From what I remember, it does last a while. But you make it through just fine. You find yourself a nice..." Umm hesitated. "Well... I probably shouldn't spoil everything. But you’re alive, yet suicidal, yet able to live anyway. Yes, that seems like a good enough way to leave it off as."

"But I don't want to be suicidal! I don't want to think this way all the time! I don't want to be like this!!!"

"Ah, that's a good step to be at for sure. But you can't make that the sole focus of your being. Sometimes you just gotta admit you’re suicidal. Accept it... and move on. I think that worked out pretty well for you."

"Really!?" asked Spike.

"Honestly, you spent more time with Key and Luna with those kinds of problems than you ever did with us," said Umm. "Though, we may have just accidentally changed the past so you may talk to us more? No—wait, I think it's the same. Yeah, it's the same."

"You sound nothing like Fluttershy or Discord," said Spike. "You can't be them."

"If you looked at yourself even 10 years from when you left, you wouldn't be able to recognize yourself, Spike. Everyone changes in unimaginable ways given time. And that's okay. What you're looking at today is the combination of billions of years of the beings you know as Fluttershy and Discord being inseparable. We aren't them anymore. We've changed. And you will change. The Spike in front of us right now does not have the same level of suicidality at all points in time. You'll have good and bad days. But... take it from us who attended your funeral, things work out fine."

"I... I have a funeral?" asked Spike.

"Well, yeah!" said Umm. "Everybody dies eventually. Well... except for us. We're preparing to be the Deities of the next cycle of this universe. And you—well, you could be in many, many, many afterlives beyond this one at this point. But it's all good."

Spike didn't like the idea of an afterlife, or worse—afterlives. But he did like the idea of his own funeral.

"I get to die?" reaffirmed Spike.

"Yep!" said Umm.

"Well... that's good then. How long until I die?"

"Whooo... uhh.... a long time?"

Spike cringed.

"Uhhh.... that's not what you wanted to hear. But it was the truth... so... ummm..." said Umm. "It's a REALLY good life. I probably shouldn't spoil it for you. But trust us. You got this. It's good, you're good. You have a ginormous hoard. Your family is good. Your beautiful cosmic wife lives longer than even you do. And you have so many batpony foals you practically single-handedly kick start the species back up again. And I probably just said too much."

"What."

"Okay, I'm still really bad at awkward situations, so can I just shove you back into your own time now?" a light blue portal appeared behind Spike. "I mean, if that's alright with you."

Spike turned his head back at the serene portal, hesitating. He really wasn't sure what to make of all this.

A yellow hoof poked at Spike, nudging him towards the portal. "You have a good life, now okay! Please don't mention this conversation to Discord or Fluttershy, they're not quite ready to know... anything yet. But hey, you're good at keeping secrets! Right? Right. Good! Bye now."

And Spike was flung backwards in time.

9) Now what?

The next thing Spike remembered was Key pecking at him.

"Quit it!" said Spike, brushing off the phoenix and finally opening up his bleary eyes at the bright world around him.

"Squaaawk!" retorted Key. He was breathing heavily and covering Spike with his feathers, as if holding Spike in a blanket of scarlet.

"Why are you freaking out so much? I'm fine," said Spike.

Key continued to squawk and cry out in several different ways. He had learned enough from Fluttershy to get the gist of what he was saying.

Where had he been? Key could always “sense” him. But he had been “gone” from existence for a short time. So gone that there was no way for Key to teleport to him in any way.

"Woah..." said Spike, finally starting to get what had happened. "I'm sorry to freak you out like that, I’m fine, really. Just… a spell that got out of hand." Spike hugged Key back. Though with the wings, Key was the much better hugger.

Key started to weep and Spike felt bad there wasn't anything physically wrong with him to heal. The drops fell onto Spike's scales and slowly slid off. It's too bad that phoenix tears didn't work on suicidal thoughts.

But then again, maybe he was "cured?" He saw the end of the universe and the void he had sought... and it wasn't exactly what he wanted. Was there anything left to do... but live?

Live.

Spike clutched onto Key harder. Live? He had to live now? He had been so focused on dying that the idea of living beyond this point was absolutely inconceivable. He wasn't supposed to get this far in life. He wasn't supposed to be alive. Dying—no, scratch that— the idea of dying had been the most peaceful thing ever. But life? Life wasn't peaceful. It was full of diplomatic issues, friendship problems, the fear of becoming evil, and the many, many inconvenient things that came with staying alive.

He was actually going to be there for life.

"Key... the days... just keep going, don't they? They don't stop," said Spike.

Spike felt Key’s neck feathers as he nodded his head.

How was Spike supposed to handle all of that? Just these first few years of "living" had been hard enough. How was he supposed to do thousands of years worth of that?

Key chirped a few words that Spike didn't really understand, but it was something along the lines of: "one day at a time."

Spike looked at a clock on the wall and realized he actually had things he had to do. Twilight was hosting a dinner for some diplomat from somewhere, and so Spike headed downstairs to help with the cooking. He even made a paltry appearance at the dinner itself, but excused himself as fast as possible.

He was good at acting normal, all things considered.

Before Spike went to bed that night, he read over Luna's letter again. He looked at the letter, and then at the closet in his room where he hid his dreamless sleep potion.

It was truly terrifying to jump into the unknown. Who knew what would happen when Luna found out about him? Would his own thoughts affecting Luna's thoughts? Would she perfectly understand his own desires, which would cause her to feel the same? And then she’d commit suicide, which would then trigger a rash of suicides across Equestria?

Spike's heart rate must have increased, because Key went over next to him and draped a wing over him.

Spike sighed. Luna had seen a lot of terrible things before in ponies’ dreams. She could handle whatever it is he threw at her. Right? It would be okay, right?

It took a long time to fall asleep that night. It got so bad that Spike just decided to walk up around the castle. It was missing key features, and Key and all the ponies were missing, but Spike didn't notice that. All he noticed was that he was—in fact—still alive. That was a problem. He wasn't supposed to be alive. How could he have let this problem go on for so long like this?

Luckily there was a convenient black hole for him to jump through. It swirled and swayed like a black hurricane, it’s spiral tendrils grabbing at stray matter. He flung himself off the highest tower of the castle, aiming for it.

As he neared the black hole, a dark blue tendril of aurora reached for his leg, dragging him elsewhere. The midnight blue streak started crawling up around him. He tried to tear at it but felt completely numb. It engulfed him entirely before the dark blue colors unraveled into stars.

The light of the stars made it much easier to see the valley of grass around him and the Everfree forest beyond. Some of the stars lazily fell down from heaven, forming fireflies that drifted around the midnight valley, illuminating tall grass that swayed in the breeze.

A few fireflies landed on the grass, and Spike saw Princess Luna appear where the fireflies had landed.

If anyone knew how to die, it would be the Princess. “Excuse me, Luna?”

“Yes, Spike,” said Luna as she walked closer to him.

“I’m sorry to ask, this is probably an awkward question, but can you help me die?”

"Excuse me?" asked Luna.

"Y'know... some way to die? I've been looking all over for something, but nothing seems to work right. Any recommendations?"

“I actually wouldn’t know much about dying,” said Luna. “I’ve never done it before.”

“Aww… I’m so sorry you have to go through life like that. Living is so hard.”

“It can be,” sighed Luna. “But why would you want to die?”

“Oh, I gotta protect my friends. I'm gonna turn into a giant monster and so I really ought to die before that happens,” said Spike. At that moment, a large purple dragon claw reached out from the earth, forming a deep fissure in the landscape. The claw clamped down on Princess Luna.

“NO! It’s already happening!”

Spike found himself buried alive, clawing his way out of a pit and grabbing onto anything that he could use to get out of there. When the giant dragon got out of the pit he opened his right claw to see a tiny crushed and bleeding Princess Luna.

“No— No— No NOO!!!” screamed Spike. He held her lifeless corpse close to his body, and clenched his eyes shut. “I should have died sooner. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry! Please come back! I’ll do better next time. I’ll kill myself sooner. I should never have allowed myself to grow up for this long. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Spike!”

Spike sniffed and opened his blurry eyes. "It’s a nightmare, Spike. You don’t have to dream it!" said Luna.

Spike felt himself shrink smaller and smaller until he was his normal size.

He stared up at Luna. "This is a dream?"

"Yes, and it looks like you were creating your own nightmare."

Lucidity crawled over Spike, like spiders prickling every inch of him in his new reality.

"How much do you know!?" said Spike in a single breath.

"About?" asked Luna.

"About— about— ME?" said Spike, his head staring at the grass underneath him.

"It looks like you've been dealing with intense suicidal thoughts for some time," said Luna.

There it was: the truth. Forever uncaged to the point it could never be taken back again. All the terrible things he was afraid of happening were now going to happen. And... it didn't matter anymore. Luna knew. "That—that about sums it up," said Spike.

Luna didn't respond.

"What happens now? Am I gonna be taken away?" Spike started to sweat as his fears came out. "Do I need to be separated from my friends? Am I going to be quarantined off for having bad thoughts that must not be shared?"

"Oh, Spike," said Luna, taking a hoof and rubbing his spikes. "You're fine. Nothing you are facing is something that is wholly unique to you. It just means you need some help."

Out of all the answers Luna could have given, he didn't expect that. "You mean... I'm normal?"

"There's no such thing as normal, Spike. But the problems you face have been faced before. And I've helped, and continue to help ponies with problems like yours."

"Is... is there a cure?" asked Spike.

"Not exactly, you can’t really cure a thought" said Luna. "But with practice you can redirect your thoughts and emotions, and help yourself get through this."

“But… isn’t it just a distraction from the thoughts? Is my life just going to be a series of distractions until I eventually die anyway?”

Luna considered the question, putting her hoof to her mouth. “That’s a very philosophical question, Spike. What is life but a series of distractions? I don’t think that’s what life is.”

Luna configured the dream, showing the cosmos in all its glory. Nebulas, planets, and galaxies all swirled around them. It was far more beautiful than the void had been.

“Life is what you make of it. If you want it to be full of distractions, it can be. And if you want it to be tranquil and kind, it can be that too. Spike… it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Spike stared at the beautiful cosmos surrounding them, but a thought insisted on creeping back in.

“But… even if I’m going to be okay. Will others? I’m a dragon. I—I may have already killed ponies without even knowing about it.”

Luna tilted her head. “What makes you say that?”

Without realizing it, Spike altered the dream, showing the time his greed had caused him to grow to an enormous size, causing a lot of property damage in Ponyville, and crushing some unsuspecting ponies that had been in their houses. Then the dream shifted to when Spike was barely hatched and he had grown to a colossal height. The dream showed the baby crushing a poor maid pony.

“See…” Spike sniffled. “I’m already a murderer. I’ve killed ponies. This pony right here,” Spike gestured to the maid. “She could have been a mother. And that means that after centuries she could be responsible for causing hundreds of ponies to come into existence. Which means I killed hundreds of ponies. I… shouldn’t be alive. A life for a life.”

Luna dissipated the dream, replacing it with the soft glow of light in a peaceful forest. “Hold on one moment, Spike. Let’s actually confirm you did this.”

Luna vanished and Spike was left along with his thoughts. He had spoken too much. He had existed too much. He needed to stop doing that. Luna was trying to help a dead dragon. She ought to help others that actually had a chance. She ought to help innocent ponies, not him.

Luna reappeared a moment later, clutching a disheveled Celestia.

Spike’s eyes went wide. It was bad enough that Luna was spending time with him. But Celestia too!? What a horrible dragon he was to waste their time, especially Celestia’s sleep.

“Spike,” Luna spoke up as Celestia gained her composure. “You matter. And please remember that we’re both immortal. We have time to spare, especially to help a friend like you.”

Spike gulped. Luna could probably read his mind here. Or his thoughts altered the dreamscape in some way that she could tell what was thinking.

“Tia?” asked Luna. “Can you help me with something? And you must be honest, the psychological well-being of a good friend is on the line. To your knowledge, has Spike, either accidentally or on-purpose, caused the death of a pony or other creature before?”

Celestia could only stare at Luna and then at Spike with a confused look on her muzzle.

“No, of course not,” said Celestia.

“But—but what about when I grew super huge when I was hatched? Didn’t I crush somepony?”

“Well, yes, Ravenbrook was in the hospital for a few days with some broken bones. But honestly, the psychological damage from Twilight turning her parents into plants was far worse than anything you did that day.”

“So I did hurt somepony?” asked Spike.

“Yes, but nopony died,” said Luna.

“And injuries happen at that magic school all the time," said Celestia, stifling a yawn. "You have no idea how often I have to shove a pony’s head out of a flask. Learning magic can be rather disastrous. But we haven’t had any casualties in centuries.”

Luna nodded to Spike.

“Oh, speaking of magic, how is your dragowizard practice coming, Spike? Were my letters helpful in any way? Beyond the letter sending spell, I haven’t seen pyroturgy practiced in millenia, and I’d love to see it, or help with what I can.”

“Oh! It’s umm… going okay,” said Spike, taken aback. Why did he have so many friends? Why were there so many ponies so willing to help him? Did he really matter that much?

Luna gave him a look that distinctly said: Yes you matter!

“Excellent!” said Celestia “Give me word the moment you have something to share or if you ever need help. I’m always a letter away!”

With that, Celestia yawned and then disappeared from the dream. Spike was left alone with Luna in the lush dark forest. Lavender flowers emanated throughout the dream, leaving him even calmer than before.

“You see, Spike… you are fine. You haven’t killed anypony.”

“But—but what if I do!?” asked Spike. “I’m a dragon after all! I’m going to make mistakes, I might crush somepony in the future. I might—”

“But are you crushing them right now?”

Spike looked around. “I—no…”

“Exactly. Focus on the now, my young drake. The past is done. The future is unknown. You are safely in the present.”

Spike breathed in and out, but tears still stained his eyes. “I just… I’m going to live so long… I’m going to fail. I’m going to hurt others.”

“Alright, Spike… let’s take your worst case scenario. You kill a bunch of ponies accidentally.”

The calm dream around them changed. A large, ferocious purple dragon was in the midst of tearing apart the castle of friendship. And Twilight and her friends—his friends—were desperately trying to get him to stop. But he didn’t. He saw as Fluttershy was engulfed in orange flame and burned to cinders. Rainbow was knocked back into a mountainside. And Rarity was completely crushed as his claws tightened into a fist. Spike’s incensed eyes returned to normal and he could only stare horrified at the royal purple mane and white fur in his claws.

Then the dream shifted and the large dragon was left to talk with Twilight for a long… long time. Eventually… the colossal dragon found forgiveness and everything was calm once more.

Spike looked at Luna. “That’s not how Equestria works… is it?”

Luna sighed. “Spike… I have lived your worst fears. When I was Nightmare Moon, I did terrible things. I— I... let’s just say that it’s taken me a very long time to forgive myself, far longer than it took the ponies that I wronged to forgive me.”

The dream shifted back to a calm forest. “Equestria is made up of reformed villains, Spike. Look at me, look at Discord, look at Starlight Glimmer. Terrible things have been done Spike. But… even the worst crimes can be repented of. Even the most vile of creatures can seek forgiveness.” She shuddered, and Spike knew she was talking about herself.

“You are pure, Spike. I know you’re scared you will lose that someday, but that only goes to show how hard you are working to stop that from happening. While the future is unknown, the Spike I know wouldn’t hurt any creature. But even if the worst was to happen, you have so many friends, Spike. You have an astoundingly large support group—far larger than I had when I was going through my darkest times.

“Use them! Rely on them! This life wasn’t meant to be lived alone. And yes, even your thoughts are okay to share and get help with. Trust your friends, Spike. We’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

Spike didn’t know what to say to that. He really did feel better . It was as if warmth and peace had completely diffused the darkness of doubt throughout his entire being.

Spike breathed in and out.

“Okay,” said Spike.

Luna smiled, “Are you feeling better then?”

“Much better,” said Spike. And it was true. He felt even more calm here with Luna than he had during all his weeks in the void. He hadn’t thought is was possible to be that calm again, but the serenity of the dream and having somepony to talk to with complete trust relaxed him in ways he didn’t think were possible.

“Sweet dreams, Spike,” said Luna. “I’ll drop by tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” said Spike. And he found himself curling up onto a bed in the middle of the dream, letting the peace wash over him.

10) Another Day

Two months later, Key chirped at him, saying all sorts of things about the nice day outside, and how Owlicious had been noisy last night while they were trying to sleep, and a thousand other things.

Spike smiled, turning over in his bed until finally admitting defeat that Key was not going to shut up until he officially left his comfortable slumber. He had had such a good dream too. He had gotten to show Luna his idea for what the Castle of Friendship could look like, and she was very impressed at Spike’s imagination.

Spike brushed his teeth and got ready. Twilight had a lot of work for him to do today. But that was okay. He was a helper. And that’s what he loved doing best.

He breathed out a purple flame and played with it all the way down to breakfast. He heard Twilight and Starlight's usual morning bickering as he got closer to the kitchen.

"Why did you get cupcakes for breakfast?" asked Twilight.

"They're unfrosted cupcakes, that means they're practically muffins," said Starlight.

Spike extinguished the purple flame before Twilight could notice, and then sat down at the table.

"You can't possibly believe an unfrosted cupcake actually substitutes for a real breakfast muffin," said Twilight. "Where did you even get that idea?"

"Pinkie Pie, and she's right! All an unfrosted cupcake has going for it are different flavors and more sugar. That makes it even better than a muffin."

"Pinkie Pie is a professional baker. She of all ponies should know that there is more to cupcakes than just being a sugary muffin. Muffins are healthier!"

Spike picked up one of the unfrosted cupcakes and bit into it. He loved sweets as much as any other creature. But this was way too much sugar for this early in the morning.

"No they're not," said Starlight. "Have you seen the nutritional value between a cupcake and a muffin? They're practically the same."

"I'm not a professional baker—Pinkie is. We should just ask her what the difference between a cupcake and a muffin is."

"I did ask," said Starlight. "And she said they were about the same."

Spike quietly got up and started cooking some oats that both of them would appreciate. The heat from the stove reminded him that he could accidentally burn this entire place to the ground and all his friends would die and it would be all his fault and he shouldn't be alive and—

He breathed in. Shrugged. And then breathed out.

Starlight and Twilight continued to squabble until he finished cooking the oats.

He set the bowls of oats in front of them and they said a quick thanks before starting to eat, all the while still debating between muffins and cupcakes. Honestly, what would they do without him?

Living with the suicidal thoughts never truly went away. The thoughts surged to impossibly oppressive heights, and then receded away, leaving behind the peace of a weathered storm.

Spike continued living. And that was alright.

And even when it wasn’t, he had many friends to help him get through it. Sometimes he helped others, and sometimes he was the one being helped. And Spike was okay with that.