Love's Hydration

~ XII ~

Graveside Manners

Rainbow went to Rarity's grave.

She hadn't expected to see Spike there.

The mare paused between tall oak trees, peeking out from behind one, looking at the gravestones. Spike towered in the middle of the lot. His foot could easily crush the slab of stone before him. Instead of that, the dragon knelt: offering frozen blue flowers.

Rarity's favourite. Rainbow blinked, shuffling behind the tree. So you're the one who brought the impossible flower.

Spike rose after digging the flowers into the grass. His face seemed unsure. He rubbed his neck and looked around. Rainbow ducked behind the tree. Finally, with a sigh, the dragon undid the pouch tied around his waist.

And pulled out a letter.

You still haven't read it? Rainbow nearly stepped forward—but stopped herself. You've been so strong. I didn't think you were still struggling with that. I should of…

"Sorry."

The dragon spoke.

The breeze nearly carried his words.

"Sorry… for not being there. For not holding your hoof when it mattered most. I became what I needed when it was too late. I should have just been there. But I wasn't. And I'm never there in the way others need me."

Rainbow swallowed as she turned, her back leaning onto the tree.

"I never told you how those letters saved my life." Spike held the envelope with both claws over the grave. His eyes seemed pained. "Never expressed all the little things on my mind. I was pretending to be more than what I was. You saw through that. But you understood what I was going through."

Spike's eyes squeezed tight. "Why did it take me so long to mature? That I could finally be your friend when you could no longer be mine?" His head slowly shook. "I cut myself from everyone. You knew why. I told you my terribleness. And yet… you were still there. You shouldn't have been. You should have let me be a wandering shadow of myself."

Spike exhaled. "But you made me feel loved. Reminded me of who I was underneath it all. That there was still good in me. That I could still be…" His voice choked on sensitivity. "You made me feel like I could come back home. That I still had a chance at being me again."

His body twisted in place. "I tried killing that part of me. Every memory and friendship. To forget the past and spend the present burning in a wandering blaze. Another side of me took over for a while. I indulged in it. Never felt full. Sipping... when I needed gulps to quench my thirst. No matter which way I went—it was never enough."

Spike looked around. Rainbow froze, holding her breath. The dragon looked down at the tombstone again, swallowing. "Every letter from you inched me out from the darkness. I tried to fight it—but I always buzzed when I neared the post office. But then your letter hadn't come. Twilight had sent me one instead."

His frame buckled from a new weight.

"I didn't make it." He lingered in silence. "I didn't hold your hoof when it mattered most, or let you know your impact on me. I took more than what I gave. I still truly am a dragon at heart." He dropped to his knees as the weight carried through the ground. He sat on the back of his legs as he held the letter forward. "And I'm too much of a coward to read your final words. A-As long as I n-never open it… t-there's still a letter from you waiting for me…"

Spike edged the sharpness of a talon to the envelope's seal. Doing his best to cut the heart imprinted with the mare's last kiss, he cried, tears tapping into the white. His claws shook. Neither could be still. Despite his size and strength, he did not have the might to break open an envelope.

To see it open and the page inside slide out. The dragon cried as he forced his sharpness onto the paper, fighting with all his might to break that little heart. It took the straining of every muscle, controlling every nerve, to sever that last kiss. But, try as he might, the dragon could not bring himself to commit to the act.

Turning around, he fell, his back pushing against the tiny tombstone, which somehow sustained his whole weight. He laid back while looking at the sky. Silent tears trekked down his face. Breathing through his mouth, he hiccuped every now and again, a weak boy unable to do what was asked of him.

Rainbow watched the dragon, the one who teased and dominated her, lose himself to tears. Horror splashed her face in not knowing the pain of his existence. All that he hid beneath the surface for the sake of her or the overall game all seemed to be playing. He'd been alone all this time. Even when he was surrounded by others—he was still by himself.

None understood him like those letters did.

Nothing else made him feel more loved, like the dragon he once was.

He was Spike again when Rarity wrote to him.

And then he was just a kindly dragon when she stopped.

Help him.

Rainbow blinked. She looked to the graveyard and then through the trees to the town in the beyond. An internal struggle began about the proper course—and which path she had enough strength for. Tears had dampened the furs around her eyes. Her voice choked even without speaking.

You didn't feel ready to help Rarity.

Are you going to make that same mistake?

Rainbow emerged from the trees, and the clop of her hooves on grass drew the dragon's attention. His quiet expression set on the mare treading the land between the tombstones. Wiping the sides of his eyes, he didn't try to play off the tears. He merely watched. Caught for the vulnerable mess that he was.

Because, when the mare came to stand before him, a breeze carrying leaves around her, she did not hide her tears or the way her wings somewhat slumped. She didn't overcome the buckling in her legs or the overall weakness within her presence. Rainbow smiled despite it all.

And the dragon, slowly, was able to smile as well.

Looking at the letter, Rainbow held out a hoof, content to wait.

Spike looked at the hoof. Then at the letter. His pleading eyes tore into the face of the mare who, at that time, remained firmed in expression. More of him crumbled within. His eyes squeezed without closing, and his breath was strained. He slowly pushed his claw forward as though he was being slashed from the inside. Hestaintily, his talons released the sacred piece.

Rainbow took the letter. Her wings claimed it from her hoof in holding it between them. It didn't feel right for her to be holding this holy weight. Not with her absence during Rarity's time of need. It should have been Applejack holding this letter, guiding the dragon through this toughness.

She had no right to read Rarity's final words.

But the face of the dragon loomed behind the letter. It wasn't the dragon that had returned a few days ago. It was Spike. That fat, goofy face, a sensitive but happy one, was torn like a child in breaking bad news. Rainbow's heart raced when seeing Spikey-Wikey.

None of your shit matters.

Spike needs you.

Be there for him.

Rainbow nodded. Sliding a wingtip beneath the upper lip, Rainbow slowly applied pressure, prying the piece. The seal snapped. It's been like the two had been shot. Rainbow exhaled through her mouth. With a trembling wing, she slid the paper inside. The envelope fell into the dragon's waiting palms.

Rainbow held the letter before her and, even though she had no voice, was forced to speak for one anyway, not caring about the impossible so long as it was for a friend. With a clearing of her throat, she read the letter aloud.

Dear Spikey Wikey,

I must be gone if you are reading this. Please do not overly fret that detail. One's beauty is restored in the afterlife—so long as my best photo is hung at the funeral.

If it is not: my sickly ghost knows of your new home.

You most likely weren't there when it happened. You might not have even made it to the funeral. It would have been nice to feel your claw one last time. It's such a special thing. We ponies never tell you how it feels to be touched like that. Hooves and magic are splendid. But there's something about the size and the precision of your talons that evokes something different.

You worry about your claws' sharpness. You even asked for gloves that acted nearly as a sheath. I didn't have the heart, then, to tell you this.

You viewed your hands as weapons. Make no doubt: they could be.

But I never felt frightened when you held me tight. I was never scared of your so-called 'knives' trailing my back. Nothing fluffed my coat or tickled my skin more. The way you could scratch at an itch. You questioned why I stopped doing my mane. It was because I loved how you brushed it. I would wear it forever if it meant I could have your touch.

I'm happy that, even if we could never romantically be together, we could fill the holes of emptiness in each other's soul.

You were never a threat to me. Not once did you startle my heart. The only time you hurt me is the day you didn't show up for our weekly tea. I waited after the shop had closed, knowing what had occurred. I didn't take a sip. I never did until you came. I filled the cup without meaning to.

I won't convince you you're perfect or that you have nothing to fear. I'm thankful you allowed me to be privy to your terrible side. You seemed so abhorred that it existed. How you massacred some creatures terrified you. You wondered, if unhinged, the destruction you could cast on those you cherished.

You paint ponies as pure and dragons as vile.

Do you think ponies, despite our looks, are all good? That we don't do horrible, undesirable things? Ponies hurt each other. They say nasty things and do matters that are then much worse. The only difference is that your capability is much worse should you lose footing. There is evilness in us all.

But you don't lose your footing. You may stumble—but then you correct yourself. You've done bad, but also, you've done good. Whenever you've hurt someone, you've always done your best to make things right. We can't stop ourselves from making mistakes. Sometimes we lose ourselves in the moment. Everyone does it. You punish yourself worse because your potential—but not your desire—for harm is greater.

You must trust yourself.

Trust in the Spike that I know. You won't be happy in the life you live. Your letters are proof of that. Wandering and slaying and barely living. Your deepest nature rejects it—I know it. You always seem happiest when you're talking to me like Spike again. That is your name. That is the dragon we all love. And that is the dragon I'll be watching over once I'm gone.

You're only terrible if you never feel guilt over your actions.

You're only horrible if you never try to do better.

I have been your light. I'm happy you've let this useless, bed-ridden mare feel useful. I've seen through your darkness to the heart of your soul. To the little Spikey-Wikey at the center of it all, buried beneath such terrifying weight, alone and confused, wanting to help others, but also needing to fear himself.

How terrible that must be.

To be pulled so many ways without guidance or comfort. To navigate such confusion on your own, be held totally accountable for it all. There is something you've been needing. Something you've shared but rarely have received. That which will help you through this difficult time.

Love.

You're always there when you can be. You always give what someone needs. Twilight wouldn't be a princess if it were not for you. Those panic attacks and neurotic whims you've endured for her sake. Understanding her and being there in the way she needs you to be. You can be snarky. But you've never hurt Twilight in her times of need.

Why do you feel like you don't deserve the same? Don't you understand how much that breaks my heart? You're happiest when you're helping someone become the different things needed to assist another. You've done what you can out in the world. But you won't be happy until you have a home, surrounded by friends who love and understand you.

Where you can help grow this town and its ponies.

Accept yourself. Try to have compassion for your struggles to see your situation from my point of view despite your flaws. I'm sorry I can no longer be your light except in thought. I can only hope that, when you think of me, you are warmed and blessed in the way you require.

Oh, look at this mare talk about herself.

With a heart such as yours, I have no doubt that others are more than willing to become your new candles.

Thank you for being there, Spike, in the times when I didn't deserve it when I abused your love or hurt your feelings. I was selfish at times, but dared to think that, because you were a dragon, and I ,a pony, that I couldn't have been all that selfish. Enduring such thinking and feelings from others has reaffirmed that horrible identity you hold of yourself. There is much you have to let go of.

The boutique is yours.

Please make it into a home. Do not worry about my thoughts. To have it be a collection of items caught in cobwebs terrifies me more than this disease. Let others inside your home. Let them inside of you. You may feel yourself to be a burden. That nothing can help.

But even in facing death, an unsolvable thing, talking to Applejack has let me feel at peace.

My last request is for you to find love. You live to ensure others feel their own worth. Let the same happen to you. Even if I cannot be the princess you have saved from a castle, another out there wants to love you. That will help you bear the reality we have all found ourselves in.

I love you, Spike.

Please be a good boy after I'm gone.
~ Forever "Beautifully" Yours, Rarity.

Rainbow stopped reading. Tears hadn't stopped. Her voice never ceased to break. The dragon watched her mouth for every word as more of him was destroyed from the inside. Only that he fell forward after the letter finished. Wrapping Rainbow in a tight hug, a friend needing a friend's embrace, weeping into her mane, snot blowing from his snout.

Rainbow did not care as she hugged him back; the two embraced over the friend's grave.

"Was…" Spike exhaled harshly. "Was there any more?"

Rainbow laughed while crying. "J-Just one thing."

Spike sniffled.

"Wanna hear it?"

He nodded, his muzzle sliding up and down her neck.

PS. Also! Should you decide to make love in your new boutique, please allow for two weeks to pass, ensure the door is locked, the windows are covered, and please have the decency to change and use the bed.