“I’m glad to help, Rarity, but don’t you think there’s wonderful things about flying that don’t involve dresses?”
It had, in hindsight, not seemed much different from any other visit to the Carousel Boutique. For as long as they’d known each other, Spike had happily taken every opportunity he could to offer his assistance to Rarity. He treasured the time they spent together, after all, and it was only appropriate for a fine young gentledragon to treat his lady with respect.
So why then, after all this time, did it still feel so unrewarding?
“Of course, darling. Flying will also be beneficial for you to help me with gowns, frocks, robes, shifts, skirts, minis, maxis...”
The only response Spike could give was a sigh. Already his wings were straining from the effort of hovering in place, being fitted for a dress he was certain was to tall for a pony to wear. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought...
...no, that couldn’t be it. She wouldn’t be that disrespectful of his time, surely? Regardless, the thought persisted in the back of his mind like a stonescale’s itch.
Might as well scratch it, Spike thought. “Rarity, just who is this dress supposed to be for, anyway?”
“Hmm?” said Rarity. Her attention had momentarily turned away from Spike, glancing at one of the several design documents haphazardly spread across a nearby desk. She glanced back towards him, and gave a “The one you’re fitting? Nopony in particular.”
“Oh,” said Spike. “You mean... it’s for a creature that isn’t a pony, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s for any specific creature,” Rarity replied, “but more or less, yes.”
“Not... specifically?”
“It’s more of an experiment, really,” Rarity answered. Her horn glowed a sharp crystal blue, and a length of measuring tape levitated itself off of her desk. “After thinking about the larger bipedal creatures we’ve seen, I wanted to expand my horizons just a tad. It’s always worthwhile to challenge yourself, as I always say.”
“So, uh,” said Spike, “what are you going to do with the dress, then?”
Rarity paused, briefly looking contemplative. “Well... I haven’t yet expanded into a market where I can sell it, so most likely I’ll have it recycled for fabric. That being said, I do find it satisfying to know I can make this sort of thing whenever I want to.”
For a moment, Spike could feel his breath catching in his throat. “R-right, of course.”
Rarity had quickly picked up on the sudden change in Spike’s demeanor. She lowered the measuring tape, briefly, and looked him in the eye. “Spike, dear, is something wrong?”
Spike felt a heavy lump settling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes drifted away, sliding away from Rarity’s gaze seemingly of their own volition. “Well, uh... not really. It’s just...” He hesitated briefly, scratching the back of head. “...I’ve just been hovering in place here for the past three hours, is all. I was sorta hoping you’d get something you can use out of it.”
Rarity blinked rapidly. “Oh,” she said, “well... I suppose if it makes you feel better, I could donate it to a creature large enough to wear it. Given Ponyville’s demographics, I imagine it would be quite tricky finding one...”
“Yeah, thanks,” Spike mumbled. His whole body felt heavy, more than it should have been even with the fatigue of flying.
Rarity smiled back warmly, and brought up the measuring tape to Spike’s waist. “It’s no problem at all, dear! Now, if you would just hold still for a moment...”
For a second time, Spike could only sigh heavily. It was going to be a long day.
————————
Spike had gone to bed that night with his wings aching and sore. Sprouting two entirely new limbs had been a difficult enough adjustment to make by itself; despite the ease he took to using them, he sometimes struggled to understand the unfamiliar sensations his wings brought.
Now, having exhausted himself meeting Rarity’s demands, he almost wished that he hadn’t grown them at all. As he lay flat on his stomach, the fatigue slowly began to overtake the sting prickling at his overtaxed wing muscles, and he drifted into unconsciousness.
For the rest of the night, he slept a dreamless sleep, unburdened by the tasks he would perform the next day.
————————
The following morning, Spike eaten his breakfast without comment, save for the obligatory morning small-talk. Twilight hadn’t paid any mind, for she was already busy preparing the lesson plan for her latest school endeavor. After a simple meal of cold cereal, he walked out the door, and began his journey over to Carousel Boutique. He’d agreed to meet with Rarity that day to help her out with another set of errands. Steadily, he made his way through the busy morning streets of Ponyville, eager for another chance to help Rarity.
Yes, definitely eager. So eager that his feet were dragging against the ground as he walked.
By the time he arrived at the familiar doorstep of the boutique, the sun had already climbed well into the sky. He raised his claw, and gave a series of limp-wristed knocks that dully echoed on the wooden door frame.
With a gentle creak, the door opened, and Rarity stepped into view. Her eyes twinkled gently in the morning sunlight, and Spike couldn’t help but be drawn into their pristine gaze.
“Spike! There you are! Thank goodness, I was worried sick!”
“Huh?” said Spike. “Worried? What for?”
“What for?” said Rarity, taken aback, “Spike, you’re late! You’re never late! Why, I was terrified that something could have happened to you!”
Spike reached back and scratched the back of his head. “Ah. Right. Sorry, I was just distracted by, uh... wing stuff. Yeah, let’s go with that.”
Rarity smiled. “I suppose I couldn’t blame you,” she said. She reached out with a foreleg, and pinched Spike right in the center of his cheek. “Just look at you! Oh, I still can’t believe my little Spikey-Wikey is growing up!”
Spike wasn’t about to question how Rarity could pinch his cheeks with a single hoof. At her touch, he’d already forgotten what it is he’d been worrying about to begin with. He quickly followed Rarity through the door, into the boutique proper.
Rarity eventually led him through the main shop room, past a set of stairs that led down into a dark, dusty room. With a flicker of hornlight, Rarity tugged on a chain hanging from the ceiling, and a single lightbulb above flared to life. The room was covered in plain wooden shelves stacked with rolls of fabric in all possible colors and patterns.
“Huh,” said Spike, “I didn’t know you had a basement.”
“Well, I haven’t really used in a while,” Rarity replied. “But I do like to keep some extra supplies on hoof in case of an emergency.” She reached out behind herself, and pulled out a long scroll list from a place that Spike couldn’t see. “Now, what I need you to do is take stock of the entire inventory, and make sure that everything is accounted for. With your new wings, you can reach the upper shelves far more easily than I could.”
Spike raised a single eyebrow. “Uh, can’t you just lift the fabric down with your magic?”
“Spike, dear, you know I’m not good with dust. Why, just take one whiff of this air! It’s absolutely atrocious!” As if to demonstrate, Rarity took a deep breath through her nostrils. Immediately afterward, she followed with an explosive coughing fit, sending flecks of spittle all over Spike’s face.
A sharp blush appeared across Rarity’s cheeks. “Ah... oh dear. Terribly sorry about that. I’ll, er... just leave the rest to you. Let me know when you’re finished!” With a rapid clopping of hooves against the floor, Rarity quickly darted out of the room, disappearing up the stairs.
Spike gave another sigh, only to be interrupted by a coughing fit of his own as motes of dust caught on the inside of his throat. It was going to be a very long day.
————————
After hours of cataloging the boutique’s dusty inventory, the soft embrace of his bed was the only thing that Spike had on his mind. He came into the Friendship Castle with the burning itch of dust still in his lungs, and blearily pushed through the door and into the main throne room.
He had hoped to return to his bed without comment, but as he dragged himself through the hallway, he had caught the attention of Starlight Glimmer, who stopped to greet him as she made her way through the opposite direction of the corridor.
“Oh, hey Spike, haven’t seen you in a while,” she said. Her eyes shifted focus, gliding over his disheveled form. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”
“Nah, I’m fine,” said Spike. His voice was scratchy and dry, and he subsequently forced a puff of dust from his through by a pair of hacking coughs. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”
“You look like you’re a little bit more than a bit tired,” said Starlight. “Just what have you been doing the whole day, anyway?”
“Oh, nothing much,” Spike replied. He extended his arms upward, letting his wings flutter as he stretched out their tired muscles. “Just helping out Rarity with a few odd jobs here and there. No big deal, really.”
“Really?” said Starlight. “Rarity’s been pushing you that hard? Seems kinda harsh.”
“H-Hey! She’s not pushing anything!” Spike shot back. “I’m happy to volunteer when she needs me! There’s nothing wrong with that... is there?”
“Well no,” said Starlight. “But I don’t think volunteering means you need to work yourself to the bone. Why don’t you just take a break from it every now and then? I’m sure Rarity wouldn’t mind.”
Spike hesitated. It had been such a long time since he’d first started assisting Rarity on her errands, and not once had the thought crossed his mind. “You really think so, huh?”
“Of course!” said Starlight. “You just take it easy, okay?” She gave one final nod, and began to breezily trot down the hallway. As she left she turned over her shoulder and spoke. “Anyway, I’ve gotta be going. Just remember to take care of yourself, alright?”
“Yeah,” said Spike, “thanks.”
For a long time, Spike stood there in the now-empty hallways, a flurry of uncomfortable questions swirling in his mind. As he finally worked up the energy to make his way to the bedroom, he realized that he’d like the answers even less.
————————
The sun peeking over the horizon brought Spike into the realm of awareness, and right away he was struck with a terrible certainty. A thought loomed heavy over him, one that he had flirted with just before he had fallen asleep. Only now, with a refreshed body and mind, did he understand its true gravity.
It was horrible. Enough to tie his stomach into knots several times over. Yet even as the discomfort washed over him, he felt his chest swell with determination.
He had to find Rarity. Sooner rather than later, if possible.
Spike quickly jumped out of bed, and hurried out the corridor and down the stairs. He had stopped just long enough to scarf a slice of untoasted bread from the kitchen pantry — a task made easier by the reach of his new wings — and quite literally flew out the kitchen door. He passed Twilight on the way through the main throne room, shuffling another stack of papers atop the crystal table. As he hovered past Twilight, he grabbed the massive double doors and pushed with all the strength that he could muster. His muscles strained, and yet the door refused to budge, a reminder that growing wings didn’t make them weigh any less.
“Whoa! Slow down there, cowboy,” Twilight remarked. “Here, let me help.” Her horn glowed a light purple, and rapidly dodged the massive crystal doors as they swung inwards.
Spike laughed weakly. “Oh. Pull. Right.”
“You seem like you’re in quite a hurry,” said Twilight. “Got any big plans for today?”
“It, uh... depends on what you mean by ‘big,’”, said Spike. “But basically, yeah.”
“Well, I won’t keep you waiting,” Twilight said. With a warm smile, she waved Spike off as he glided out the doorway.
“Yeah,” Spike grumbled, “good luck with that.”
————————
Flying, as Spike had quickly learned over the past two days, was a much more effective means of getting from point A to point B than walking was. Aside from the occasional crossed paths with an equally cross-eyed mare, he’d had very little difficulty navigating the wind currents to his desire. Moving through the air was almost reflexive, something he felt like he’d known how to do his entire life, as impossible as that seemed.
He eventually landed just at the doorstep of Rarity’s boutique. This was it. This was what he’d promised himself he would do. His arm trembled as he reached forward, his hand balled into a fist that far tighter than he needed to knock on the door. Barely able to hold his gaze against the door’s surface, he lightly tapped against the door three times.
Silence hung in the air, followed by more silence. His body tensed, and he contemplated running away then and there. It would have been easy to forget everything and walk away, pretending as though nothing had happened.
The choice was made for him when the door finally opened, and Rarity appeared in the door frame to greet him. Her coat and mane smelled of fresh lilac shampoo and body wash, the fragrant scent relaxing him as the gentle morning breeze wafted through his sinuses.
“Oh, hello Spike!” said Rarity. “I didn’t expect you this early. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A lump formed in Spike’s throat, forcing him to swallow. There was no turning back now. “Oh, uh... nothing. I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. May I come in?”
“Oh no, not at all!” said Rarity. “Come on in, make yourself at home. I was just about to make myself breakfast, I’ll be happy to have you over.”
“Thanks,” said Spike. A slight rumbling of his stomach reminded him that the slice of bread had not been much of a meal. Rarity had always been willing to provide food and hospitality in the past, even when he spent the rest of the day working to assist her.
He followed Rarity through the main showroom, past the shop rooms and into Rarity’s living quarters. Rarity’s kitchen was simple, far less extravagantly decorated than one would expect of a pony like her, though she had made sure to include a few doilies and tablecloths where necessary. A single functional dining table sat a distance away from the stove, sink, and pantries, where Spike could faintly catch the smell of a multitude of different fruits and herbs. The sun gently shown through an open window beside the stove, letting the fresh smell of summer flowers in to mingle with the kitchen’s aroma.
“Come, sit down,” said Rarity, motioning to the table. “How do you feel about oatmeal this morning? I should be able to have it ready in just a few minutes.”
“Yeah, oatmeal sounds good,” said Spike. “Thanks.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, the noise of its legs scooting against the floor lingering in his ears. As Rarity began preparing the meal, he could do nothing but stare down at the table’s surface.
There were so many things he wanted to say, yet he had no idea how he could say any of it. How would Rarity react? Was it really too late to just give up and turn back? He could spend the rest of the day with Rarity without ever bringing any of it up. As he pondered, he gazed at his distorted reflection in the wood’s varnish, staring right into his own eyes.
There’s no point hiding from it. You can’t keep going like this with Rarity forever, you know.
Spike sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
Several minutes passed, and eventually Rarity came trotting forward, carrying a pair of bowls in her telekinetic grasp. She placed them each down at their respective sides at the table, and then sat herself down across from Spike.
For such an otherwise plain breakfast, Rarity had clearly put in a great deal of effort in preparing it, her attention to detail as meticulous as ever. The hot cereal was garnished with carefully sprinkled with blueberries, walnuts, and banana slices, a light drizzle of maple syrup, and topped off with whipped cream. An ornate silver spoon lay embedded within the body of oats, its handle sticking out just enough to grasp.
Spike idly grabbed the spoon, and prodded at the oatmeal. As hungry as he was, he just couldn’t bring himself to think of eating.
It wasn’t long before Rarity noticed Spike’s lack of enthusiasm. The glow surrounding her own spoon faded, and she set the utensil aside. “Spike, dear, is something the matter?”
Spike’s grip on his spoon tightened, and he immediately felt his stomach clench. Rarity knew that something was up now. He wanted to turn back, to lie and say that everything was fine. In the back of his mind, a tiny part of him told him that he could. He was almost tempted to listen, for a moment, but he had come too far to turn back now.
Still, it was probably better not to rush things. A more subtle approach could ease the inevitable sting of truth.
“Er, nothing’s wrong,’” said Spike. “I was, uh... just wondering. Was I planning on doing anything with you later today?”
“But of course,” Rarity replied. “You agreed to come to Mount Cinder this afternoon to help me find some lava rubies, remember?”
“Ah, right,” said Spike. He hadn’t remembered much of what he’d said to Rarity the previous day, after having worked for so long. Yet as he considered the statement, something in his mind clicked into place. “Wait, I agreed to go into an active volcano?”
“Certainly, darling,” said Rarity. “After all, it’s not like I’d be capable of surviving in such a harsh environment. You dragons are quite remarkably durable, you know.”
“Y-yeah,” said Spike, “I guess so.” All things considered, he wasn’t sure why the idea was so frightening at first. Molten magma was barely more harmful to him than a hot sauna.
Yet still, something about it didn’t feel right.
Spike took a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaling slowly from his mouth. It was a stress-relieving technique he’d learned a long time ago, one that he’d insisted Twilight perform whenever she became too tense.
“Spike?” said Rarity. “Spike dear, are you absolutely certain nothing’s wrong?”
“Well, I...” For a moment, Spike could feel his breath catch in his throat. “...no, actually. I-I mean, not that there’s anything wrong, it’s just...”
Rarity tilted her head to the side, in equal parts fascination and concern. “Just what?”
“W-well, I, uh... you see... it’s just...” Spike sighed, unable to finish the thought. A direct approach brought too much tension to bear. Perhaps, then, an indirect approach was warranted. “Rarity, why do you keep asking me to do things for you?”
Rarity went silent for several moments, staring blankly into Spike’s eyes. “...I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
“Why do you keep asking me to do things for you?” Spike repeated. The trepidation he’d felt just moments before was already beginning to melt away. “Whenever you want something done, I’m always the first one you go to. Why?”
“I... I’m not sure I understand the question,” said Rarity. “Are you saying you want to skip our errands for today? I’d be perfectly fine with postponing our visit to Mount Cinder, if you really like.”
Spike shook his head. “This isn’t just about Mount Cinder. It’s about everything I’ve been doing for you since we met. Chores, modeling, gem collecting, manual labor...” as he continued, Spike felt a sharp pang forming in his stomach. “...and I... I’ve been thinking about it lately. All the stuff you’ve been asking me to help you with. It’s almost always something that benefits your dressmaking business.”
There was a vague glimmer of realization in Rarity’s eye, and her pupils slid away, struggling to maintain eye contact. The moment of truth was rapidly approaching, and it appeared no more comfortable for her.
“R-Rarity. Look. I’m... I’m going to be honest. You know I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. And I know that you know. Heck, I’ve practically worshiped the ground beneath your hooves! I-I just...” Spike gave another deep breath. Every moment that passed, he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. Now or never, Spike. Come on.
“...I’m starting to think you’ve been taking advantage of me.”
He had expected Rarity to react dramatically, as she often did. But there were no astonished cries or loud bursts of emotion. She simply stared back in silence, mouth hung agape, quietly moving as if struggling to find a response. Several seconds passed before any words escaped through her lips.
“I see,” she said. Her eyes drifted away, then back towards Spike, small dots of water already visible in their eyes. “Do really think I’ve been doing this? Using you for my own benefit?”
Spike felt his body tense, and another sharp pang in his lungs. It had hurt to see her hurt. “I... I don’t think you ever meant to, honestly. I was eager to help you out however I could, and you just didn’t think much of it. But you know how I feel about you and... and that I was willing to do anything just to be close to you.”
“To be close to me?” said Rarity.
“You know... to get a chance to be with you,” Spike replied. His stomach turned again, as he thought of all the things he’d realized the past night. “A-and maybe part of it’s just that I was too afraid to tell you what I really wanted from you. I’d just hoped that if I helped you enough, you’d start feeling the same way about me that I felt about you.”
Rarity blinked rapidly. “Feelings... for you?”
A sudden jolt of electricity ran through Spike’s body. He slammed his arms against the table, glaring daggers at Rarity. “Yes! I wanted you to love me back! Why is this so hard to understand!?”
Almost immediately, he regretted the outburst. In that moment Rarity had flinched away from him, and there was something in her eyes he’d seen once before, during an event that had still haunted him. Fear. Fear of him. Spike recoiled at the sight, sliding back into his sitting position.
“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to...”
Rarity let out a sigh, brushing a stray mane hair out of her eyes. “It’s quite alright, darling. You... well, you’re still young. I can’t imagine it’s easy learning how to deal with these feelings for the first time.”
“No,” Spike muttered. “I guess it isn’t. But... why? Why couldn’t you just say something? If you were going to reject me, you could have done it at any time! Why would keep toying with my feelings like this?”
Rarity bit her lower lip, sucking in air between her teeth. The question had her practically squirming within her own chair. Finally, she exhaled deeply, letting her body relax. “Well... if I’m going to be honest with you, it’s because I didn’t think anything ever needed to be said about it.”
Spike through his arms into the air. “And why not!?”
The silence that hung between his question and Rarity’s answer was nearly unbearable. The seconds stretched onward, far longer than any clock would measure, and for that time Rarity could only stare straight at him. Spike struggled to recognize the expression in her eye, the vague melancholy that was written across every feature on her face.
Then, suddenly, it dawned on him. Pity. Rarity was pitying him.
“Spike,” she said, “I’m a grown mare. And as much as you’ve matured, by your own species’s standards you’re still just a child. I understand you’ve had feelings for me, but it just wouldn’t be acceptable for me return them. Until now, I... I thought you knew this.”
The words struck Spike like a lightning bolt to the center of his chest. In its aftermath, time itself crawled to a standstill, and every breath he took became a lump of molasses. Suddenly, everything around him felt unbearably heavy.
Spike sluggishly moved his arm, wiping a tear from his eye. A part of him wanted to beg, a part of him wanted to yell, and a part of him simply wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. “Right, of course. Silly me.” He pulled back out of his chair and dropped to the floor. “Guess I’ll just go home now, if you don’t want me.”
“Spike, wait—”
Spike didn’t bother looking back. By the time Rarity called to him, he was already flying out the kitchen window. As he glided away, he could only wonder if he’d ever stand to look her in the face again.
Author's Note
At the end of “Molt Down,” I’d noticed that Spike’s reluctance to help Rarity out with her latest set of errands was the first time he’d actually shown something resembling a backbone regarding their relationship. Following that train of thought raised a few interesting and potentially uncomfortable questions about their onscreen relationship, and that’s ultimately what convinced me to explore it in fic form.
I’ll likely be wrapping things up for this story in the next chapter, but I can already say this was an interesting character study to go through.
Spike wasn’t sure how long he’d been crying. He had flown back to the castle without a word, quickly enough that the world below had seemed like only a blur. He hadn’t even bothered entering through the front door, instead heading straight for his bedroom window. It was one small advantage of wings, he supposed; he could easily avoid ponies that would ask prying questions.
Now, as he buried his face into his own pillow, he could only wish for the entire world to disappear. The sting of Rarity’s words still lingered, coursing through his heart like a burning venom. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
A trio of gentle knocks came at the bedroom door. Spike looked up, eyes still sore despite himself. Beyond the door, Twilight’s voice called.
“Spike? Are you in there?”
A heavy breath pushed its way past his lips. “Yeah. What do you want?”
The door came creaking open. Twilight slowly walked in, a deep, sorrowful frown written across her face. “Is everything okay? Are you feeling alright?”
Spike flopped onto his back, ignoring the sudden discomfort of pinning his wings against the mattress. “No. What do you think?”
A gentle push of air swept across the room. With a brief flap of her wings, Twilight flew up, and sat beside Spike atop the bed. Spike sat himself upright, briefly rubbing his irritated eye.
Twilight’s eyes briefly drifted away, before turning her gaze back to Spike. “I heard about what happened,” she said. Her ears flattened against her head as she continued. “Between you and Rarity, I mean.”
Spike’s claws gripped tightly against the sheets, and his heart jumped within his chest. All of a sudden, the air had become impossibly thick.
“Easy there,” said Twilight. A gentle wing wrapped itself around Spike’s shoulder. The warm and downy feathers brought a sense of security, and he could already feel his body relaxing. “Just breathe, okay? Let it all out.”
Spike complied readily. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Just like he’d instructed Twilight to do during her panic attacks. Several more repetitions, and the tension had all but disappeared. “Thanks,” he said, “I needed that.”
Twilight pulled her wing back and looked down at Spike, her eyes twinkling gently in the ambient light. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Spike gave a tiny shrug, one that barely even qualified as moving his shoulders. “Sure, why not. Not like I have anything else to lose.”
“It must be rough, having your heart broken for the first time,” said Twilight. “I don’t know if I can help you as much as Cadance could, but I’m here to listen if you need me. Why don’t you start by telling me what happened?”
Spike hesitated. Even recalling it now left a sore feeling within him. Nevertheless, he continued. “It... happened two days ago, I think. Right after I’d first gotten my wings, Rarity started asking me to do even more things for her than usual, and I got really tired out.”
“And you started to think she was taking advantage of you?”
“Y-yeah,” said Spike. He reached back, idly fidgeting with the spines on the back of his head. “But... the thing is, I don’t really even know if I can blame her for that. At least, not entirely.”
“Not entirely?” Twilight repeated. “What do you mean by that?”
“W-well... I’m your Number One Assistant, right?” said Spike. “I’ve spent my whole life helping you, so Rarity probably never thought anything of me helping her. But she still knew that I had a huge crush on her, and... and the whole time, she’s said nothing about it. Like it wasn’t even worth acknowledging.”
“I guess being an assistant’s different if it’s someone you’re in love with, huh?” said Twilight.
“Yeah,” Spike replied, “I guess it is.” His mind tickled with a sudden curiosity. He’d been so used to offering help for so long, yet now it seemed like it had only brought him pain. “When did I start calling myself your assistant, anyway? It must have been a long time ago.”
“Well, you were very young, so I don’t think you’d remember it,” said Twilight. “I was sorting some of my books one day, when you started tugging on my tail. I told you that if you wanted to play with me, you could climb up on my back and help me reach the upper shelves.” She giggled lightly as she recalled the memory, only vaguely familiar to Spike. “You did such a good job of it that from that day forward, I called you my Number One Assistant. I don’t think I’d ever seen you happier before that day!”
Spike gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, that does sound like it would have been the best way to get your attention back then.”
Twilight raised a single eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Uh, nothing,” said Spike. “Just that... well, I’m sure you already know how you were those days. You spent nearly all your time with your nose in a book or practicing a spell. I guess I’d have to help you out with that if I wanted to be noticed, right?”
Twilight’s body went rigid. As she went stiff, Spike looked up to see her pupils shrinking, the very color in her face seeming to wash away.
“Uh, Twilight?” said Spike. “Everything okay with you?”
“Oh my gosh, you’re right.”
Spike reached up and scratched the side of his head. “Right about what?”
“When we were living in Canterlot!” Twilight burst out. “I-I-I was so self-absorbed in all my studies all the time! The only consistent way for you to get my attention must have been to do chores for me!”
“What?” said Spike. “H-hey, Twilight, slow down!”
Twilight pressed a hoof up against her forehead, grasping it with the flat of her frog. “You... you were so young back then! I-I must have taught you that the best way to get affection was to do whatever you were asked! I left you with an unhealthy idea of what it means to care about somepony and I didn’t even realize it!”
“Twilight, stop!” Spike insisted. “Calm down!”
“B-b-but—”
Spike stood up, and placed a claw against Twilight’s shoulder. “Breathing first. Then we’ll talk, okay?”
Twilight nodded, and closed her eyes. Spike felt her body slowly rise with the deep breath that she took, then fall once again as she exhaled. When she opened her eyes again, Spike could already feel the tension in her melting away.
“Better?” said Spike.
“Yeah,” Twilight replied. She turned to look Spike in the eye briefly, then looked away. “I still feel like part of this is my fault, though. You wouldn’t be hurting like this today if I hadn’t left such a huge impression on you as a hatchling.”
Spike shook his head. “Well, no offense, but I think you’re being ridiculous.”
“Really?” said Twilight. “But—”
“But nothing,” Spike replied firmly. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. When I brought up how I got to be your assistant, you were scared that it might have led to what I’m feeling now. And you know, maybe you’re right. Maybe I did get the idea that the best way to earn your approval was to do the stuff you asked.”
“Then how am I being ridiculous?” said Twilight. “If what I was was true, then...”
Spike looked up, and met Twilight in the eye. “Because you were so much more to me than just that,” he said. “And I know that I’ve always been more to you than just your errand boy. Whenever I was sad, you were there for me. And whenever I got scared or upset, you were always the first pony to be by my side. That’s why you’re here right now, isn’t it?”
Twilight paused. Slowly, a smile fall across her face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It was pretty silly of me to worry about that, huh?”
Spike returned the smile. “So is this our obligatory hug moment?”
“Looks like it to me!” Twilight said, giggling. “C’mere, you!”
Spike leaned in, and was greeted by the warm hold of Twilight’s forelegs, paired with the softness of her wings. Time slowed to a crawl as they shared their embrace, and when they finally pulled away, all of the lingering soreness in Spike’s body had vanished.
“So what are you going to do about Rarity?” said Twilight.
“I... I dunno,” Spike admitted. “But, you know, looking back on it? I don’t think she saw me as her errand boy either. I mean sure, she did push me around a bit hard sometimes, but... she was always looking out for me in the end. When I went the Dragon Lands, she risked everything going with you to make sure I was okay. Heck, she even did it twice! And there’s all the times she helped me out even when she didn’t need to, or gave me something nice, or just generally wanted to see me happy...”
A heavy sigh forced its way out of his lungs. He’d left Rarity behind before she even had a chance to get a word in edgewise. He couldn’t help but wonder. Had he just thrown it all away?
“It sounds like you want to talk to her again,” said Twilight.
Spike’s throat constricted, swallowing the heavy lump within it. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” said Twilight, beaming. She turned towards the door and called, “Rarity, you can come in now!”
Spike froze. He had hoped, however briefly, that it was just a joke. But soon enough the door opened again, and Rarity came through. Even after everything, her coat and mane were still pristine and radiant, though her face betrayed a deep melancholy. She carefully approached, every motion of her body showing hesitance. She looked away, ears lying flat, before looking back to meet Spike’s eyes.
“I heard everything,” she said. “I... I didn’t want to eavesdrop, of course, but... I just couldn’t bear not knowing if you were alright. Spike... will you ever forgive me?”
The time that passed before he spoke could have been seconds as much as it could have been hours. Thoughts, feelings, and memories swirled like a hurricane within Spike’s mind, and he could only stare as he struggled to make sense of them all. A single tear formed in his eye, and he wiped it away with a claw.
“Oh, Rarity,” he said, “do you even need to ask?”
He jumped down from the bedside, and the entire world fell away as he ran into Rarity’s awaiting forelegs. The two held each other in their mutual embrace, letting their own emotions mingle and wash away. In that moment, Spike had almost forgotten what he’d felt for her, leaving his own pining behind. As they pulled away, he looked into her eyes one more time.
“I’m sorry, Spike,” said Rarity. “It was wrong of me to assume you knew how I really felt about you. I should have simply told you while I had the chance.”
“It’s... it’s fine,” Spike supposed. “You don’t need to apologize, really. I should have told you what I wanted from you to begin with. Maybe it’d have hurt less if I just asked you out, and you said no.” He looked down, twiddling his thumbs. His chest once again felt tight and heavy. Despite everything he’d just went through, his emotions stubbornly refused to be discarded. “We, um... we can still be friends though, right? Even if we’re not going to be... like that.”
“Of course, dear! I would be happy to,” said Rarity. “And if you’re ever uncomfortable with anything I ask of you in the future, don’t hesitate to let me know, alright? The last thing I want to do is see you get hurt.”
“Thanks,” said Spike. His chest relaxed, and he could feel a deep warmth swelling from within it. He looked up, letting Rarity’s bright smile fall across him. “It really does mean a lot to hear that from you, after everything.”
“I’m glad to hear it, dear,” said Rarity. “Now, before I go, there’s one last thing I wanted to give you.” She reached out behind her back with a foreleg, and pulled out an object from somewhere Spike couldn’t see. It was a small, rectangular piece of paper, and before Spike knew it, it was already being placed into his hands.
Spike held out the paper at arm’s length, staring at the odd slip. “What’s this? A check?”
“Why, it’s the money I owe you, of course,” said Rarity. “After all the work you’ve done for me these past two days, it simply wouldn’t be right to let you walk away without being fairly compensated. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Spike. He squinted, straining to make out the amount written in Rarity’s admittedly less-than-perfect hornwriting. “How much is this for, anywa— ONE THOUSAND BITS!?”
“You’re welcome!” Rarity replied. She turned away, and eagerly trotted out the door, disappearing into the hall. “I’ll see you later, darling! And do try not to spend that all at once!”
Spike’s body remained frozen in place. His stared at the check held in front of him, his mind struggling to wrap itself around what it was he’d been left with. “One... o-o-one thousand... “
“Well then,” said Twilight, “it looks like today I’ll be showing you how to open your first bank account. How’s that sound?”
It had taken some effort to pick his jaw up the ground, but soon Spike found himself nodding in agreement. Despite everything, perhaps today hadn’t been such a bad day after all.
Author's Note
Well! This fic became unexpectedly popular, and seems to have sparked way too many heated discussions in the comments for me to keep track of. Whoops. 
I wanted to end off this fic on a happier note, since it was never my intention to single out or demonize any of characters for their approach to interpersonal relationships. MLP is ultimately a show about learning to understand one another, after all, and I think in the end this is the only way this scenario could end while remaining true to the series’s spirit.
