Laughing Starvation!
B_25
Spike awoke to a horrible aching inside his stomach, which closed into itself, gnawing at emptiness. Wine swished in his mouth. He swallowed. The drink warmed his throat, washing away its dryness. Delicious bits of meat were intermixed with the mead—almost like a stew.
The tiny chunks brought the tiniest substance to his belly.
Rain fell from a sky obscured by the forest's foliage, pelting the branches and leaves overhead. A few droplets made it through, tapping the grass around him. Spike's breath gave to smoke due to the coldness of the surrounding air; the lingering chill gnawed his scales.
The dragon shuddered, aware that he had been crouched this whole time, resting on a knee and a foot, both of which shifted and sunk into the glossed grass. Icy slickness painted his frame. Finally, his eyes blinked open as faint darkness draped the round clearing in the woods.
His arms were hugging something.
Spike looked down to see the face of Fluttershy.
The downpour hissed louder than Fluttershy's scared murmuring. She was cradled in his arms, inches beneath his jaw—but felt miles away. Spike choked, breaking into a sob. Shakily, he started to stroke her cheek, leaving behind marks of red.
His trembling claw pulled away to reveal his bloody print. His talons had gone to stroke her mane—but stopped at seeing that mark. Slowly, he turned his palm toward his eyes, seeing the red that stained it. The texture had been thinned after being wiped.
Wet flowers breezed into his snout. He inhaled the breeze, blowing out the smoke that clouded his mind. His lips separated as his tongue peaked out. Dryly, it winded to his palm, licking his basted scales. Sweet honey wetted his tongue. Seconds later, a hiccup choked below.
Spike retracted his tongue, wiping his claw against the grass. He cradled her to his chest, protecting her from the rain. His other arm supported her back as he stroked her mane.
Fluttershy looked blankly above.
Blood stained her lips. She hiccuped red. Slow wheezes passed through her collapsed throat. With a blink and heavy breath, she reentered the world. Her vision settled to the shadow covering of the dark forest.
Before her eyes affixed to him.
She smiled.
Spike frowned. Whimpering, his face collapsed into sadness. His mouth opened in search of words—but found none. Hers opened as well, exhaling air, squeaking a syllable.
The dragon dropped the side of his face to her lips. He waited without breathing—and so did she. Spike pulled back to face her. Fluttershy rose, inching her lips into his: bundling them in a delightful passing of seconds. Her eyes dulled as they closed. Then the mare sunk away into a pleasant peace.
Fluttershy collapsed in his arms.
Revealing her bloodied lips.
Spike jolted awake. His speeding heart and racing mine had produced a sheen of sweat across him. His palms sunk into the mattress as he sat up. Breathing heavily, he found warm, fresh air soothing his lungs.
Outside the room and down the hall, a set of hoofsteps clopped against the floor.
The dragon glared at the door and heard the steps stop before it. A knock came on the wood. Steps shuffled back as a throat cleared. Then a voice began. Its sweetness evoked his weakness.
"Spike? Are you awake?" Fluttershy's voice muffled through the door. "Sorry to bother you... it's just... it's already late into the afternoon." Hooves adjusted on the floor, funnelling courage into her shy tone. "Don't you think you should be up now? I understand if you need the rest. But the tea I set won't be warm for much longer." She swallowed after the spewing of words. "That, a-and you still haven't eaten your sandwich."
The dragon laid a claw over his stomach. It ached in emptiness. He functioned on fumes. Despite his hunger, the thought of bread evoked vomit. Not even starvation would forgo his new sense of taste.
"Sorry," Spike muttered with a shake of his head, suffering a jabbing poke inside his skull. His vision lagged behind the sway of his eyes. Vomit bubbled in his stomach. "You're right. I should have been up by now. Just… had another nightmare, is all. Nothing scarring."
He breathed deeply to compose himself. "I'll be down in a bit. Please don't wait."
The bottom of the door peeked at the cloven hooves. They spread apart as weight bore into them. "O-Oh."
He winced.
"Well!" Fluttershy followed in a rushed voice, "if you're not f-feeling okay, m-maybe, I could bring some food to you? Would you like a bowl of soup? I wouldn't mind bringing it to you in bed."
Spike inhaled to reject that undeserved kindness... but he didn't have the energy to put on a front. "Alright. That sounds wonderful. Thank you."
Happy humming and noises followed. Hooves turned as their steps carried down the hall. Spike breathed peacefully in the ensuing silence. Taking a moment to look around the shared bedroom, he couldn't help but feel differently about it.
Nothing in the room changed.
Sunlight spilled from the window and over a rocking chair, washing across the floor and warming the desk set against the wall, half of the closet doors caught in the light. Spike shifted in the bed, the springs groaning from the weight. Something slid against his leg. His eyebrow cocked up at the feeling.
"Angel bunny? Where are you?" her voice was faint from beneath the floor. "I really could use some help setting the dishes. Angel? You haven't touched your food this morning."
Spike blinked as he grabbed the sheets. With a swallow of air, he threw the blanket off him... revealing a sweat-soaked mattress. Relief deepened his exhale. Slumping forward, the dragon couldn't help but chuckle, feeling his tongue brush over his teeth.
It glossed over something between a set.
He fixated on it curiously. Wiggling the object with the edge of his tongue, he could shift and loosen it—though it was a struggle to remove it. Deciding to quit early, he fished a pair of talons inside, pinching and pulling the clump.
Spike pulled it out before his eyes to reveal the white fluff.
Silence thundered in his frills. His heartbeat burned in pulsation across his wrists. Bile bubbled in the cauldron inside him. The tapping drew him out from the trance. Knocking was coming from the door.
"Spike? Did you fall back asleep? I fetched you some tea..."
Spike coughed and flicked the fluff away.
"Y-Yeah! Just... yeah."
"May I come in?"
"Come in?" Spike blinked. “This is your room. You don't have to ask..." He blinked some more as gears returned to turning inside his head. "I-I mean y-yeah. Sure. Come on in." It was impossible to hear a smile, but one was felt through the door.
The frame opened from the snout, slowly pushing on it. More of the muzzle entered the room, peeking through then inching back. The door swung open on its own momentum—revealing the frozen mare. She stood awkwardly at the door frame. Her eyes were wide, and her smile was wider.
Spike's shoulders dropped at seeing her.
"Hey."
Fluttershy smiled more and looked away. "Hey."
"You look beautiful today."
Her muzzle blushed before it hid into her mane. "Thanks."
Spike smiled.
Fluttershy shook her head as she made her way to the bed. Her wings flared out from her body. One laid flat in the air with a silver plate atop it; the other wrapped around a steaming mug. Coming to the side of him, the mare paused, looking to the window again... before darting and leaning toward him.
Her lips rushed to his cheek and slowed on arrival. They froze on impact for a couple of wonderful seconds. The affection struck Spike into stillness. Fluttershy peeled away afterward, hiding her face behind her mane. She set the plate and mug on the dresser next to him.
"The tea is still warm." Fluttershy started to walk backward, unable to see anything but her face covered by mane. It turned a little so that he could see her face—but then it yanked away. "The sandwich is still from last night. I would have normally fed it to the animals but... you missed out on lunch as well."
Spike looked away to the window on the other side of the room. "Sorry."
He felt her eyes set on him again.
But he didn't look back.
"Is... is the food not very good?"
Spike shook his head. Through the window, lurking in the distance, the Everfree Forest haunted him. Beneath the blanket, his claws curled into fists. Too much silence passed. He looked back to Fluttershy.
The two worried faces locked eyes.
"Not at all," Spike said with a dip of his head. "Just... haven't been hungry."
Surprise flashed Fluttershy's face.
"Really?"
"Y-Yeah." He coughed and looked down. "W-Why?
"Just." Fluttershy closed her eyes and then clenched them. Her foreleg caressed the edge of her other. "I don't know. You seem awfully skinny lately. And... and you're not like how you usually are."
His eyes clenched as well. "You already know the reason for that."
The two mutes lingered in the room.
"C-Could you..." Fluttershy lost her voice and was forced to breathe. "Maybe—if you wouldn't mind—perhaps you could try— that's if you're up to it—eating a teeny-weeny bit of that sandwich?" She panted underneath her breath and stepped further from the bed. "At least until the soup is finished. It... it could help with your memory! Maybe even with the blackouts!"
Fluttershy rose taller in excitement as her chest puffed.
Then she deflated and curled into herself. "Or not."
Guilt raised Spike's claw. "You're right." Fluttershy peeked out from across the room. "And I'm sorry." She came out from herself in a normal, happy stance, which caused her to look at him easily. Spike swallowed as he went on. "Maybe a little food is the push I need to open my stomach back up. I'll try the rest of this stomach in a bit." He bowed his head. "Thanks, Fluttershy."
Fluttershy made a series of more happy noises before turning away and nearly skipping out from the room. She didn't bother to close the door as she carried down the hallway, extending her wings as she hopped down the steps, one hoof at a time.
Spike was smiling as she descended out of his vision. Then he turned it to the cup and the plate. Leaning over and grabbing the latter, he fell back against the pillow, raising the sandwich from the plate. Bringing it to his snout, the scent of wheat filled his stomach with vomit.
He breathed through his mouth, fighting down the puke, pulling the bread away.
More hums floated up from below. Metal clattered together from the ruffling of pots and pans. Spike squeezed his face closed and nearly drew a tear from his eyes. In a great inhale, he rushed the sandwich to his mouth, not bothering to chew as his tongue became stale on the food's contact.
Disgusting.
He swallowed it in a gulp and felt it swell every muscle in his throat. The horrible taste wouldn't leave his mouth. It imprinted the flesh it touched. Was this an allergic reaction? The food at least made it inside his stomach.
His claws crossed over his mouth as vile bloated up his throat. Rolling and falling and pounding onto the floor, the dragon scampered to his feet as the rattling of hooves and pots—and a distant gasp—sounded from below.
His cheeks puffed as he reached the window, fiddling with the latch, unlocking and pushing it open. Vomit projected from his mouth and into the bush below—the one overseen by the kitchen. Puking, the dragon collapsed into the sill, weakly keeping like that, slinking back only as a voice called after him.
The throbbing pained and pleased him, rose him to heaven with pleasure and dropped him to hell with torture. It needed more pressure to deliver him from evil. Pushing it against the soft, warm, and fluffiness beneath him, he felt it sandwich between himself... and someone else.
Spike opened his eyes to the humidity of the room, a stink of sex and its floating perspiration, both fermented by the aged, wooden walls. He was sweating as everything burned about him in pleasure. He felt good. His hips gyrated to milk the primal titillation bubbling within him.
Then his vision settled downward on the currently mounted mare.
His eyes widened, and his mouth opened as Fluttershy squeezed into herself. She was beneath him, pinned by the weight of his slender weight, a lack of wiggles to escape him. Her frazzled mane, shy eyes, and silence knocked him back.
Spike scampered backward and fell over the end of the bed. He struck the floor, crawling away without hesitation. His back touched the door, and leaning against it, his legs came to threat. Between them, his cock lurched out, tall, thick, and throbbing.
He whimpered at the wonderful pain.
His claws crossed over his dick and pushed it down. Another shudder rocked through him and, with the pressure mounted on it, his cock revelled in the weight. His hips inched forward and back, unable to repress the urge.
"I-I..." the squeak of his voice was found beneath the rubble of his lungs. "Sorry. I am so, so so... sorry." His head shook as his mouth never closed. "I-I would never have done that. I did. But I... no.” His head lifted to look at the mare on the bed, who had sat up, watching him. "I'm sorry. For whatever I did. No matter what I said. I didn't mean any of it. I am so, so sorry, Fluttershy."
Her lips parted.
"You..."
Spike closed his eyes. He waited. Screams. Crying. Yelling.
Accusations.
"Please." Spike barely spat with the last of his breath. "Tell me."
The sheets ruffled as Fluttershy's bottom scooted across it. Curiously, his eyes opened, coming to see the mare sitting on the edge of the bed. Her legs opened slowly, revealing her marehood, its wetness glinting in the moonlight.
"You..." Fluttershy tried the world again, turning her head aside, though her eyes flicked back to him. "...said you loved me."
The jolt of his heart burned the sluggishness in his limbs and cleared the fog inside his mind. Burning alive for a critical moment, the dragon removed his claws from his cock, which delightfully bounced to its full mast.
Looking down at his body, there was no blood about him, but only sweat. Gazing over at her, he saw Fluttershy look away—while hiding nothing from him. Her cheeks blushed as he scanned her body.
A giant bandage plastered the curve of her neck, with a smaller one wrapped around her wrist but. Marks and healed bruises lingered across her coat. None of it marred her abused beauty. But nothing of what he saw... was caused by him.
"You..." Spike returned, "...wanted this?"
Fluttershy nodded with her head still away.
"Why?"
It was a small smile. One that she turned her body to better hide, obscuring her face with the fall of her mane. Bowing her head for a moment, she nodded before turning back. With bravery enhancing her facial features, the girl melted his restraints with a couple of words.
"Because I love you."
Shivers rattled his bottom and feet and claws and tail on the floor as his heart doubled the tremors. Shakily, his head turned, his eyes in a battle between the doorknob and her. His claw reached the doorknob. No objection sounded as he pulled himself up.
Except for the hissing at the window, a bunny behind the glass, pounding on it with fuzzy paws. Its cries went ignored. It watched the horny predator in the room with its mother figure. Unable to do anything, it bounced away in search of another entrance.
On his feet, the dragon stumbled toward the girl, one weak, fumbling step after the other, before towering over the bed. Fluttershy didn't stir as her neck craned back to look at him—much less as his cock bobbed a few inches from her snout.
Spike crouched. Their muzzles came together. His head turned, and so did hers, as the two pressed together. Tears joined the kiss as they washed toward their lips. Her forelegs raised over his shoulders and crossed around his neck. She pulled him down as she laid back.
The coughs irritated his dry throat. It'd been touched by moisture. The thickness of wetness that streaked a tease down it. His tongue searched felt around his parched maw, unable to wet it, feeling only the heat of his terrible breath.
Spike's eyes opened to the dimness of the hospital room. He sat in its corner, in a wooden chair with rests dug into his sides. Wiggling to escape their grip, he looked ahead, seeing a lone, perched light set over the long, white bed.
Fluttershy lay in the bed, covered by a blanket and dressed in bandages. Dressings wrapped over her back and bound her wings. Her snout wrinkled. Her closed eyes twitched. Hushed whimpers emanated from her chest.
Spike rose from the chair toward her—sinking into his foot as it buckled from his weight. Striking the ground with his spread, the dragon lingered on the ground, feeling his battered scales, bruised flesh, and aching bones flare.
He kept on the ground with his face smudged against the floor. His breaths were hot, dry, and wheezed. Weakness depleted his willpower. Closing his eyes, he exhaled, surrendering to exhaustion. Darkness came, and consciousness faded.
“S-Spike... nhn... n-no... Spike...”
Emerald eyes flashed open. Powered by nothing, the dragon pushed his claw to the ground and then the other, feeling his empty stomach lurched from tilting upward. Its hollowness grumbled. Nothing burnt without fuel.
Over the railings of the bed, the claw shot over and struck upon it, its talons wrapping around the steel. The dragon dragged himself upward and fell onto the side of the bed. Sitting on his knees and resting his chest on the edge of the bed, he gazed over the collapsed friend.
Fluttershy laid beneath the overhead lamp, which illuminated her body, the shaking foreleg thumping into the mattress. Spike gazed at it. The hoof flicked over the sheet, tapping all over, unable to calm.
Then his vision carried over to her face. It scrunched and inched up, wiggling at times, enduring writhe. Worry consumed him. Back with the uncontrollable hoof, his claws claimed it, sweeping in to claim it.
Spike held Fluttershy's sole between his palms, allowing it space to shudder, but still holding it tightly enough. The poor mare gasped in a dry breath—tears momentarily streaking from her eyes. Spike continued to hold her, help her, at each of her whimpers, hushing them, easing the nightmare with gentle noises.
Her shifting slowed to the occasional jerk.
The dragon smiled as the mare's head fell back into the pillow. She sunk into it, turning her head. Her face relaxed into peace as Fluttershy found her peace. Spike smiled. He raised a claw to stroke her blush hair—but stopped at the drop of blood.
The claw froze over the blanket at her side.
There was a dot of red in a sea of white.
Spike blinked. His eyes carried over to the arm supported in his other palm. Bringing over his claw over the top of the yellow wrist, he saw a bloodied talon tinged with blood, and below that, the cut that welled a spot of blood.
His lips parted... and his weighted, dry tongue fell over his bottom lip.
He raised the limp wrist and leaned toward it. His tongue slithered toward the collection first, adsorbing it in a single lick, retracting the taste into his maw. Unnecessarily gulping, he drank in the sweet flavour, a reprieve from his dull senses.
Spike looked down at the wound and placed his lips on it, sucking, suckling, drinking the spits of wine: a sacred essence. His dear friend. One fragile and still perfect. Goddesses never neared scum. Yet, she never minded him.
The dragon broke backward, back on his feet, a little strength allowing him to stand. To his left, the wall held a mirror, one reflecting his bloodied lips. Stepping towards it, he pulled an eyelid down, staring at his dilated pupils.
"Just a moment, doctor," the faint voice settled through the door. "I think a visitor may have stayed behind." Keys rattled, and metal scratched beneath the knob. "That's not right. Doctor? Did you unclip a key? Doctor, can you... oh, never mind."
Spike's talons pulled away from his eyes—but shock kept them wide. Quickly composing himself in a couple of breaths, he wiped his wrist over his lips, removing the trickle of blood. Looking back at the bed, he saw Fluttershy sleeping and, at her wound, blood seeped over the curve of her wrist.
Her shaking hoof had been nicked by his talon.
"Hello? Is someone there? Visiting hours ended two hours ago" Over at the door, a muzzle peered up at its window. Spike leaned over the bed and, grabbing the curtain on the other side—then drew it. "You! Yes, you! What do you think you're doing there?"
Spike shook his head and glared back at the cabinet next to the bed. Dropping to his knees, he pulled out drawer after drawer. The distant knob turned as metal scratched and clattered beneath it. The next drawer revealed nothing. The third bottom held only pins. The second, a series of plastic cups.
Something then slotted into the keyhole; a click was followed by the groan of an opening door. The last drawer slid open to a couple of scattered bandages. Spike's claws grabbed at it, unable to catch it between his talons. The thin material stuck to the base of the drawer.
"Come out from behind there right now! Don't make me call for help!"
Spike clenched his eyes and scratched at the base of the drawer, catching the bandage and peeling it. Still, on his knees, he turned and grasped the canary arm, holding it between his claws in prayer. The zip of a yank curtain tore inside his frills.
"What are you—oh."
Spike stirred in feeling someone next to him. His talons comfortingly ran across the hoof, slicking the bandage across the cut, hiding the act within his clasped claws. With that settled, he breathed, his eyes fluttering at the shock of being interrupted.
He looked to the side to see Nurse Redheart. Sweat warmed her shocked face. With a shake and readjustment of her legs, she stood proper and professional. She eyed him. They twitched into narrowness. Spike's heart raced. Fear had been swallowed and clogged his throat.
Nurse Redheart slumped.
"Oh," she breathed, "it's just you." Professionalism overtook the panic in her tone. "Were you in prayer? I didn't mean to interrupt, but—"her foreleg rose and pointed at the clock on the wall "—it's well beyond visiting hours." Her hoof touched the ground. "And that goes double for patients."
Spike blinked. "I was admitted?"
Nurse Redheart's face scrunched into itself. "Of course you were." Her steps clacked on the tile floor. Slowly, hesitantly, her foreleg reached toward him, keeping distant in the air. "Do you... not recall?"
Spike opened his mouth. He didn't speak. His lips sealed again.
"Can you tell me your name?"
His head lowered.
"Spike."
"Today's date?"
"It's... I... I don't know."
"Occupation?"
"Assistant."
"Hometown?"
"Canterlot before Ponyville."
"Our Princesses?"
"Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Twilight."
"How did you wind up here?"
"I... I..." Spike closed his eyes as he tried to recall the past—or was it the future? “...Fluttershy. It had to do with Fluttershy." His head turned to look over the bed, at the mare asleep in bed, with the soft, warm, fuzzy hoof tucked between his palms. "T-There... there was a fight. She was hurt."
Nurse Redheart returned her hoof to the ground. "Are you inferring this from her injuries?"
"No." Spike shook his head without his eyes leaving the girl. "We were in the Everfree together." His eyes squinted to see neither memory nor prophecy, catching blurs that inferred the rest of the event. "Something attacked us. I saved her. Then I brought her here."
Nurse Redheart nudged her snout into the pocket of her outfit, a click sounding, before whispering into it. Then another click chimed before she focused on him. "Are you able to recall the event in detail?"
Spike squinted harder...
...then, his eyes shut.
"No."
Nurse Redheart sighed. "This is why we fought earlier. It doesn't matter how much you care for her—you require treatment too." She flinched. "Just how would Miss Fluttershy feel knowing you hurt yourself to be with her?”
Spike slumped over the railing of the bed. "Just a couple of more moments."
"Spike."
“Please.”
Nurse breathed deeply. She groaned, checking her watch. The tapping of her hoof ended with the sounding of her voice. "Very well. You may have a couple of moments to wrap this up." She shook her head while turning away. "You're lucky your reputation precedes you."
He watched her with a confused stare.
"Spike the Friendly Dragon," Nurse Redheart accentuated from the door with her back facing him. "Had I seen anyone else in here after hours, especially a male, I would have assumed far worse of the situation."
She looked over her back at him. "But nothing's going to hurt her in this hospital." Redheart smiled. "I promise." She smiled before twisting the knob, opening the door, and leaving him with furthering hoofsteps.
Spike watched the door. His gaze then flicked down at Fluttershy. He scanned her tattered coat, admiring the beauty in the injuries. Nothing could ruin her. Though the hurt across her stabbed through the dragon's scales.
His eyes flicked up to her face.
To see hers settled on his.
Fluttershy's face lit in panic. Her forehooves struck the bed as she wiggled to the other side of the bed. Hyperventilating, she stared at him like a prey cornered by a predator. Spike remained still. Without knowing why he started to cry.
Then Fluttershy blinked. She went to speak but said nothing. After a swallow, she found her words. "Are you..."
Spike shook. He turned away, wiping the tears, snorting a breath. "Am I what?"
Fluttershy's face looked at him, narrowing before her expression relaxed. Looking down across her body, she laid a hoof on her chest, riding out the slowing of her heart. Then, the edge of that hoof stroked up, across her coat, coming to press at the side of her throat.
And the bandage there.
Spike gasped. "Oh! S-Sorry." He cleared his throat and pulled away. "L-Last thing you remember is the fight. Sorry. Waking up to me... being that close. It must have..." He exhaled heavily. "Sorry again. I-I'll... go."
He jerked away from the bed and crashed his shoulder into the wall. Scrambling across it, he made for the door, all while the yellow mare on the white bed watched. His claw reached and twisted the knob.
"W-Wait!"
Spike stopped and slowly looked back to the mare. Fluttershy whimpered immediately and pulled the blanket over herself, leaving the blushing face of her muzzle over its top. Face half-obscured by her mane, she looked at him with one eye.
"Please..." Fluttershy began. "... don't go."
Spike thought nothing and repressed his feelings. "O-Our friends will be here tomorrow."
"That'll be too long."
His claw slipped from the knob. "Then... I can leave tomorrow."
Fluttershy shook her head. "I don't want to be alone." She stuffed her face into the sheets. "And I'm scared to be at the cottage by myself." An invitation? Had he saved her life? "A-After this, m-maybe, w-we can recover there... t-together?"
Spike didn't respond. He shambled back toward Fluttershy. She sunk further beneath the sheets. Coming to the side of the bed, the dragon kneeled and, slowly, the girl peeked out from her blankets. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes.
And she wiggled out a touch from her hiding.
Spike bent forward. Fluttershy remained still. Neither raising or moving away. She looked up at him with all of her innocent beauty. Her pursed lips consumed his view. Then he looked down, seeing a large pad covering a section of her neck. He leaned toward it instead, drawn by it, feeling the stir of guilt. Whether it was his fault or not, he wanted to make up for the girl being hurt. Spike kissed the pad, sinking into her throat, trying to heal it through the strength of his emotions.
Spike pulled back from the throat as blood dropped from the curve of his fangs, swirling the mess around his mouth, swallowing the excessive drink. His eyes opened from the bliss. With a muzzle tilted upward, his eyes looked around the scene, the circle of grass marred by bodies.
Bodies of Timberwolves.
He then looked down to see the confused, scared, and crying face of Fluttershy. Her eyes wobbled within her sockets. With a mouth unable to keep open or shut, it fluttered between both. Suppressed sounds squeaked at the back of her throat.
The dragon's eyes followed downward, to the side of her neck, with a chunk torn. His tongue ceased sloshing around the bath... settling on a chunk of something between his teeth. It dislodged. The food rolled to the back of his maw.
Spike swallowed.
Trapped in his arms, Fluttershy raised a hoof to him before it faltered to the ground, and her eyes rolled backward. She collapsed. Everything froze for several moments. And then, with a squeeze of his eyes, the dragon flared his wings, tearing to the sky, with the limp girl in his arms.
"Spike? Heelloo? Aren't you going to be late?" the voice broke through the darkness—and the swat to his side awoke him from it. He was on a couch in the lobby of the castle. "You're going to keep Fluttershy waiting. When are you two supposed to be out?"
Twilight stood before him. She backed away a step when Spike rose. He ambled to the doors, reaching the pair, throwing his shoulder onto them. Resting against it, his talon raised to the lock—flicking it.
"Spike?"
He shook his head. "Don't..." He breathed deeply through the shudders. "Don't let me go." His head continued to shake. "Whatever you do... don't let me go." His tired eyes and exhausted face turned to Twilight. She looked at him with worried curiosity. "No matter whatever I might say. Promise me. Promise me. You won't let me leave."
Twilight's lips trembled as she laid a hoof on her chest. "Spike... what is this?" She walked toward him—but his face laid into the door. "What's wrong?" Silence passed. "Don't go quiet on me, Spike. Nothing ever happens if you keep everything to yourself."
He winced.
“Let me try to help.” Her hoofsteps came closer. "Or at least suffer with you." Her hoof tentatively touched his scales. Not being flicked away, it sunk more into him as she settled against him. "I won't judge you. No matter what it is. You know that."
Tears squeezed from his eyes as they shut. "It isn't about something you would do."
"What is it, then?" Her cheek nuzzled into his side. “Please, trust me, Spike.”
Spike inhaled sharply and exhaled deeply. Weakly turning his back to the door, he slid down it, with Twilight lowering as well. He sat against the frame, allowing his legs to sink outward. Going limp, his head sagged to the side.
"Talk to me!" Twilight flipped over his legs and sat on them, cupping his jaw with her hooves, forcing his face to her own. "You're my friend! My very best friend! My first in all the world! I'm responsible for you!"
He blinked. His mouth opened. He looked up. "You're... responsible for me."
"Ever since the day I hatched your egg! Since I dressed and fed and read to you! So talk to me!”
His head twisted within her hold as he looked to the corner of the ceiling. "Does that... does that mean you're responsible for anything I might do?" His mouth hung open, a breath passing through it. Twilight shook him. "If I hurt somepony... it's on you... for whatever I might do...”
The clap of the slap smacked his face into the door.
Purple forehooves crossed and locked over his shoulders and around his neck. Twilight dropped into his chest, weeping freely, clung to him dearly. Spike blinked on seeing the lobby in colour. He felt the rubbing of the coat against him. Tears, pinpoint sensations, tickled his scales.
Spike looked down at the back of Twilight's mane. She wept into him. He then raised his claw, twisting it, peering at his talons. Shakily, it settled onto the back of her head, stroking her hair, running down the back of her neck.
The weeping mess shuffled. A few hiccups passed. Twilight rose from his chest, wiping her face with a wrist. Then, with puffy red eyes, she sniffled, looking at him, smiling after a sob. "There you are."
He twitched a smile. "Hey."
Twilight shook her head. She frowned at him. "Where were you!?"
No excuse came to the accusation.
"In a nightmare."
Twilight twisted away, wiping the snot from her snout. "What about?"
Spike looked down. "Bad things."
Twilight turned back, slipping a hoof underneath his chin, raising his eyes to hers. "To you?"
His claw lowered her foreleg. "From me." Twilight remained silent. "I... I would blank out. Something inside of me would take over." He breathed through the weighted words. "I returned to the aftermath. They all had to do with Fluttershy. I-I... I..."
Twilight leaned back. "What did you do, Spike?"
"I..." His mouth opened. "I..." It opened wider. "I... ate her." He blinked at recounting the dreams. "Bits of her. Drank trickles of her blood. Ate animals to suppress the urge. Normal food was like eating puke." His blinking quickened. "It took over. I'd blackout. Somehow, she would still be there."
Twilight's chin dipped in thought—then rushed up. "What did you do when you returned?"
"Be horrified at myself," he answered, "and try to cover my tracks." He stopped seeing into his memory. "I tried doing the right thing if I could. Most of the time, it was too late." His head shook by itself. "I think it's the dragon inside of me. It's wanting to come out. Dragons and ponies aren't meant to be together. You shouldn't have raised me like this. I don't belong here. Everypony will be in danger unless I—"
“Shh.”
Twilight's hoof laid on his lips as she looked at him tenderly. More sounds croaked against her sole. She continued to shush him, humming, delivering love through their eye contact. Her eyes were big and round and bright. Glowing like a violet pool of lava.
They slowed his breathing.
"You had a nightmare." Twilight inched her hoof from his lips. "Like the kind after you rampaged through Ponyville. You were supposed to come to me if they started happening again." Her hoof rested on his shoulder. "I don't care how visceral they've become. If you're tearing bunnies apart or... harming our friends." Her hoof slid over his heart. "Dragon. Pony. Griffon. Even Princesses have dark thoughts."
Spike coughed. "But they don't act on them."
"Have you?"
"N-No." His head shook. "Only in my dreams."
"Then it doesn't count."
"What if they're warnings?"
"They very well could be." Twilight looked down between them, and the dragon did the same, caught in this trance. "Dragons can be brutal killers. They can burn towns and devour foals. The more sadistic can even toy with their prey."
Spike lowered his head further.
"But then there's one who's kept me company my whole life," Twilight spoke with a smile. "That calmed my panic attacks and cuddled me when none else would." Her head rose with every assurance. "That's overcome his greed and helps shy little mares search for missing animals in the Everfree."
She looked at him thoroughly.
"You sometimes stumble into the dark, Spike." Hearing his name raised the dragon's head. Twilight leaned forward, embracing him in a hug, nuzzling their cheeks together. "But you're always searching for the light."
Spike exhaled. Wrapping his arms around her barrel, he pulled her close, securing the lock. The warmth, fluff, and love carried him from the nightmare. He breathed into Twilight's coat, inhaling lavender. "But I don't want to hurt anyone. What I saw... what I did to her in the Everfree..."
"It's things that your unconscious did—not you," Twilight assured. "And it doesn't need to have control over you. Those were dreams. Nightmares. This is reality. You can make the right, conscious choice. You don't have to let the dragon within scare you."
Spike sunk into her neck. "What if you're wrong?"
"Then we'll do everything by the book." Twilight pulled away to look at his face. "We'll go to Canterlot and have you see a doctor. See if we can get you a diagnosis. We'll even consult Princess Celestia." She shrugged highly. "And... if you really do think you're a threat... that you might hurt someone..."
Her eyes shut, and a shuddered breath escaped her mouth. "T-Then... w-we'll have you locked up... f-for however long y-you find... c-c-comfortable and..." She hyperventilated as panic tore across her soul. "...l-let you out... when e-everything is safe and... and... and..."
Spike lurched forward and crossed his arms over Twilight, sealing her against him as she leaned back, feeling her shudders breaking across his wrists. He shushed into her fallen ears. Humming a sacred tune. His lips parted to try to assure her. Assure that he wouldn't be a monster.
He continued embracing her.
"G-Go." Twilight shifted into his frame. "Y-You'll be safe for another afternoon." She peeled off him and crawled backward. "Don't worry Fluttershy. Once you're back, we'll take the first train to Canterlot, and then we'll..."
Her eyes closed. She turned away. Her head shook.
"You'll be okay. It'll be okay. Everything will be okay."
Spike rose against the door and found his feet. He lingered for a moment. His claw pulled open the door. He didn't leave. "Y-You're... right. You're always right, Twilight. I do have a choice. I don't have to let that other dragon win."
Her sobs softened.
"No matter the urge... I'll find a way around it." His head shook. "I don't have to be that dragon."
Her laugh followed.
"You're Equestria's friendly dragon." Hoofsteps clattered as Twilight's legs rose. "The example that different species can coexist. Why we might someday have peace with your kind." He felt her smile on his back. "Just keep being yourself, Spike. Everything should turn out okay if you do."
He smiled.
"Were you... ever afraid of me as a filly?"
Twilight chuckled. "N-Not really. One time, though, as I was feeding you—you bit me by mistake." She stepped backward. "The shock—and blood—scared me at the time. I was so fearful of having my hoof near you." She laughed again. "It's the reason we didn't start cuddling right away."
Spike glanced over his shoulder. "What changed?"
Twilight shrugged. "I'd been around you long enough that... I knew when you would go for a bite." She chuckled, looking to the ground, shaking her head. "You missed me enough times to finally stop." The side of her face winced. "Though I was still wary for a time after that."
"And now?"
Twilight rolled her eyes. "I don't think you could bite me." She stuck out her tongue. "Not even if you wanted to."
Spike stuck his tongue back, walking out the door, waving as he left.
"Oh, dear! No, no! Is that... that's what... h-happened to them..." Fluttershy cried while laid in his arms. Her tattered coat was fresh with slices and blood. She looked out to the heaps of logs. "It's my fault. Those poor little critters. I let them out of the cottage, and I—Spike?"
Spike looked down at the mare in his hold as she looked up at him, safe with him but scared of the reflection in her eyes. She wiggled in his arms, unable to escape. Slowly, consciously, he lowered, touching their muzzles together.
"S-Spike?" Fluttershy twitched and blushed. Primal fear switched to an emotional one. Her chin inched up, brushing her lips against his. "Mhm." Her eyes closed. Spike lowered, past her jaw, setting his mouth on the side of her neck. "Hh-hmm?"
Pricking the yellow skin with the tips of his fangs, the dragon bit, tearing a chunk of flesh with a twist of his neck. Fluttershy's blood-curdling scream faded as a torrent of red washed down his mouth. Spike's head fell back, drinking and swallowing, indulging in the snack.
Then his head fell back forward. He looked back down. Fluttershy's terrified face looked at him. It quivered. She cried. With a trembling mouth, his name escaped before the girl fainted in his arms. Spike's eyes and mouth widened. His whole body rocked in shock. Coughing, he turned, vomiting the first bite of the meal.
He then tapped a claw to Fluttershy's face. Her eyes didn't flick from the contact. Jumping to his feet at once, the dragon clutched the mare to his chest. He dashed out from the forest, running back to town.
The mare shifted in bed. Her head rolled on the pillow, stretching her neck. She winced and stopped moving. Steadily, her eyes fluttered open and, after seeing the hospital room—settled on him. Shock exploded across her face as her mouth opened to scream.
"It's okay! It's okay! I'm not going to hurt you—I won't hurt you again." Spike backed a couple of steps from the bed. His claws were raised in surrender. His pleading eyes closed her mouth. "I'll be gone right after this. You won't ever see me again." He nodded. "I promise."
She blinked. "Where are you going?"
The dragon slunk to the wall. Flipping his back onto it, he slid across it, heading for the door. "You don't have to worry about that now. I won't ever be trouble to you. Not to you or anybody again. I-I promise."
Her eyebrows knitted. "H-How..." She roughly sat up on the bed, drawing the dragon close—though he stepped back. She watched him for a while. Expecting an answer to the unasked question. He took the hint.
"You can be sure." Spike looked aside as his arms dropped. He nodded as he spoke. "Without a doubt, you can be sure."
Fluttershy narrowed her eyes in the sudden consumption of thought. After a moment, something startled her. She shook in the bed and gazed out toward him. "You can't! You can't, you can't! How could you even dare to consider something like that?"
"Fluttershy, I—"
"Why not run away!" Fluttershy cried. "Figure everything out where it's safe!" She leaned forward, falling. Crashing into the mattress, she crawled forward, glaring at him. "You hurt me... you didn't kill me! So don't you go k-killing yourself!"
"What if I come back!?" Spike sounded. "What if I do the same thing again?!"
"You stopped!"
"What if I don't!?"
Fluttershy stared at him.
"WHAT IF I DON'T!?" Spike cried squeakily to tears cascading from his eyes. His back slipped against the wall as he fell down it. Sitting on the ground, he shook his head, unable to dispel the grief. “It was always something else, Fluttershy. Something else that took over and hurt you."
His forearms repeatedly wiped at his face.
"Not this time." His voice slowed, and his tone cooled. "I did it. I did everything." No more tears bled, allowing his arms to fall to his sides. "And maybe it was always me all along. I can't take any more chances." He collected himself. "I can't risk losing you."
Spike pushed forward on the ground, rising onto his knees and climbing to his feet after that. He stood silent and still. Then he looked at the door and began toward it.
"You stopped." Her deceleration stopped him. "Why did you stop?"
Spike thought the question over. Dead dragons had no reason to lie—not even to themselves. "Because I love you."
Fluttershy whimpered. “Then stay.”
"I can't." Spike returned to the door. "Because love isn't enough."
She shouted after him. "Then at least live!”
His eyes clenched, and his head violently shook. Then everything calmed, and he took a deep breath. He twisted and looked back at Fluttershy. "Do... do you know why ponies set out to kill certain beasts? Even though they might die in the process?"
Fluttershy pulled the sheets over her chest, watching him from over them.
"Because they fear what a beast with an acquired taste might do." He looked down to the side as he recalled the text. "After it eats a pony, it might never return to normal prey. Ponies can't chance it coming back for a better meal—or sharing it with others."
Spike smiled bitter-sweetly.
"Goodbye."
Spike took the knife and jammed its tip into his chest, feeling the metal scrunch into a clump before taking its remaining side and sliding it across his throat. It sharpened the blade. With a sigh, he dropped the knife, hearing it clatter on the ground.
Leaning over his bed to the dresser, he picked up the quill and crossed out a box. Then he stood and ambled toward a stool. Stepping onto it, he pulled the hanging noose down his head, tightening it around his throat.
His foot kicked the stool, and he hung. Moments passed of him swinging. He gasped, wheezing, still breathing. Cracks formed in the ceiling. After a second, clattering sounded, and a chunk fell from above. Spike fell and struck the ground. Rubble crashed and crumbled in front of him.
Weakly, he stood, shambling back to the dresser, crossing another cross into a box.
The wind nearly tore him from the mountaintop. The dragon stood on a rock at the cliff, with a rope tied around his wings. He tried flaring them—but the bond constrained them. With a deep breath, he fell forward, shutting his eyes and entering a free fall.
The winds sliced into him. Deafened his ears with their explosions. The ground rose to meet him. His wings wiggled instinctively against the rope, beating against it, loosening it. They struggled as he breathed deeply.
Spike waited for impact.
Then his eyes opened to see the ground, gliding below him as, above, his wings flapped, each powerful stroke demonstrating their power. His shoulders dropped, and he groaned. The wings flew him over the stone pillars, soaring him over the mountains, on a path that led home.
Spike drudged himself across the street, feeling the light of the overhead lamp washing his body, before limping into the darkness set between the next lamppost. The town swirled in his vision. Idle ponies, chatting, checked in his direction. They separated as he passed. Their mouths opened with words. But his ears heard nothing.
I'm unkillable.
That worried him more than anything. He'd accepted that it wasn't a monster that took over his body. It's always been him. But cognitive dissonance couldn't believe he'd commit atrocities—only his horror of their aftermath. He was a monster. And the first thought of a moral, self-aware monster is suicide.
If I can't even kill myself, how can I expect them to when I...
His eyes closed.
There would be none of that.
Poison. His eyes reopened to stare off and away, seeing afar and above the shadowy looming of the crystal castle. With a claw wrapped around his waist, he limped toward home, knowing what must be done. Twilight should still be at the hospital. That means she hasn't been home to see my attempts. I can steal one of her potions.
His claw raised across his side before clenching at his heart, his talons digging into scales, trying to tear at the evil beating behind it.
And finish this.
Heartbeats thumped in the air. Slowly, gradual, some quick and others heavy. The pounding twitched his claws. Spike flinched in place. Eyes blinking, he looked around, seeing the ponies dashing across the streets. Colts and fillies, mares and stallions, daughters and mothers, sons and fathers.
Their heartbeats vibrated the air; their scents carried in the wind.
Spike's mouth opened to the saliva oozing from his fangs. He licked them to stir the sludge within his maw. His claws closed. They loosened and clenched like a heart. His eyes widened more at his misery.
How... how could Princess Celestia... how could she have given me to them? To trust me among ponies? Didn't she suspect this? Maybe... they had no reason to assume. He limped home with an open mouth and shut eyes. As the urges became worse, I never told anyone. Of course, they had no clue. I never told them.
His eyes clenched tighter.
Will they care once I'm gone? Once they discover what I did to Fluttershy... how much of that care will be left?
He sighed.
None of this matters.
Spike reached the castle and pushed open its doors, the darkness within a welcome sight, as he snuck into the lobby, closing the doors behind it. The potion room was three doors down in the left hall. Bounding toward it, the dragon heard voices, felt memories, the buzzing highs of a life lived.
Lights flashed.
Spike startled into stillness at the space. Before him were five seats set in a curve. The girls sat together. Frowns. Tears. And some with no expression at all. Applejack balanced a curved knife on her thighs. Rainbow had a noose laying on her lap. Between Twilight's legs sat a potion.
Even Fluttershy, in a wheelchair, was here.
"N-No," Spike said as saliva dropped in a splash onto the ground. Shaking his head and stepping back, he glanced over his shoulder, looking at the door. "D-Don't do this. P-Please. Get out of here."
Rainbow shook her head and crossed her arms. "Nuh-uh. We're not going to leave you. Not now—not ever.” Her hooves clutched the rope as her hooves felt across it. "Just like when you needed someone to teach you to fly. That, and lose all that baby fat." She chuckled. "Remember that? Worried you'd never fly? Dragons wouldn't teach you, and a pony wouldn't know how?"
She cracked a smile and looked aside. "I even studied for you on that one. We came up with a special program, failed and reprogrammed, and now you could be the first Dragon Wonderbolt if you put yourself to it."
Spike desperately gasped. “T-This isn't about that! T-There's no fixing this! All of you have to get out of here—now, please!"
Applejack squinted him down. "We ain't going anywhere." Her head shook while her eyes remained trained on him. "Not till we discuss this."
"Then discuss it with me behind a cell! Locked away in something.” Spike turned to the door and grasped its handle. Pulling, the frame wouldn't budge. Stepping back, a purple hue illuminated from it. "Write to me! Anything! But please don't be here.”
"Spike."
The voice stopped him. Commanded him. He went to answer it—then he left. His head tilted back, and his mouth opened. Inside his stomach, his starvation laughed, its throbs twitching through his talons. Wordlessly, he turned back to the ponies, stumbling toward them.
"You have been my lifetime friend." Twilight watched him approach his chair. "The one I could depend on no matter the problem. Regardless of how much I missed up or made something seem worse than it was, I could always count on you to be there—even if you had a quip or two."
Spike sat down, and she bowed her head. "That's why we're not going to leave you. You think so poorly of yourself... I know that you once feared being useless. But you've helped so many, and you've done so much. Dragons might coexist with ponies someday."
She smiled. "And you and I are proof that friendship and love is something that transcends what we are."
Twilight's smile shrunk at the dragon's silence. He sat there. Still, leaning forward, she lowered her muzzle into his view. "Spike? Are you still with us? Is everything okay? Spike?"
The rest of the girls leaned in.
"Spike?"
Finally.
The dragon spoke.
“Who?”
The violet light flickered in the darkened room, as did the crunch and splash of blood, the gnawing of flesh produced a sloppy sound. Spike's eyes opened, dilated. The scene flashed into his eyes. Pulling his head back, the rest of Twilight entered view, her terrified face deathly still.
Spike blinked.
His arms uncrossed as the corpse fell out of his arms. It clattered on the batter of another body. Pink, with hips and shoulders the only untouched parts. To his left, a curled ball of blue seeped out blood, a half-eaten wing curved before it.
Spike jumped backward.
His heel caught on something, and he fell backward, landing on his rump before another remained, a crawling foreleg set between his legs. Rarity had been caught in a crawl to the door. She'd died with a horrified look. The other half of her body was missing.
No remains remained of Applejack.
Spike looked over at the door and, with tears streaking the blood from his cheeks, he crawled toward it, to the lone, yellow mare there. She didn't speak. Didn't stir as he came close. Fluttershy didn't fight him as his arms wrapped around her for support.
He laid down, and she laid with him as the two rested on the floor. Holding her close to his chest, he cried, sudden sleepiness on him. The call for deep sleep. The kind to last longer than a night. The dragon's eyes twitched as he knew what it was.
His eyes started to close as a hoof stroked the side of his head. Soon. The bodies would be found. The bloodied dragon hyphenating would be found with them. The experiment of keeping a dragon with ponies would never be reattempted—coexisting peace could never be achieved.
The horror of it all phased through his mind. He couldn't even comprehend it all. There was one thing. One thing alone guided him to sleep. It was his stomach. Finally, his hunger had been sated, and his thirst had been quenched.
