Knock... knock... knock.

Fluttershy tossed, cracking her eyes open, and peering around the dark room through nearly-closed eyes.

Knock... knock... thud!

With a jerk, she sat up in bed, sure that the sound wasn’t false. “O... Oh gosh,” she whispered, shaking in the onset of fear.

She shook her head. “No, Fluttershy! Come on, get yourself together.” She sucked in air, and hopped out of bed, putting her hooves into slippers. Slowly, she inched towards the doorway, looking frantically around her house as if she was lost in the Everfree Forest itself.

Fluttershy paused, taking a deep breath to reignite her resolve, before finally opening the door just a crack. “H-Hello? I was... Oh Celestia.”

Twilight lay bruised and hardly awake at the foot of the door, struggling to breathe as Spike lay unconscious over her. She coughed, and looked weakly into the eyes of her friend before passing out with a soft cry.

“Angel! Come quickly!” Fluttershy shouted, panicked into protective mode. Fluttering above them, she hoisted Spike off Twilight with all of her strength. Across the room, she saw a familiar white rabbit limp grumpily out of the living room, glaring daggers at her.

“Angel! Get Giovanni! NOW!” Fluttershy commanded, stepping aside to let the rabbit see the scene. He let out a bunny gasp, before his eyes turned determined and angry. As fast as the old bunny could muster, he hobbled out of the house and into the forest.

“Oh gosh... please be okay... please be okay...” she whimpered as she flew around the cottage, gathering all the medical supplies she could.

It was going to be a long night.

“Nng...”

Spike tossed uncomfortably, his eyes pressed shut, attempting to ignore the dull, pulsing pain from his head. He wondered while under the effects of his groggy stupor if he had fallen out of bed again, but the warmth of blankets over him dismissed the theory shortly. After a minute of fruitless attempts to re-enter the calm of sleep, he cracked his eyes open to see the sun rising out a window beside him.

This isn’t my room. He thought, immediately seeing the stuffed animals, wooden furniture and homely knitted artifacts strewn about. Blinking twice, he assembled the puzzle pieces inside his head into a vague state of recognition. Why am I in Fluttershy’s room...

Grunting, he shifted his body, uncomfortably landing the lump on his head against his pillows with a wince. Rubbing his head with his hand, he wondered why am I in Fluttershy’s bed...

He felt breathing over his shoulder. Faint, tiny breathing.

Even with a mind awash in morning fatigue, the implications hit home.

After a minute or so of frantic contemplation, he sat up slowly and looked over to...

“Twilight?” he said, blinking and utterly confused now.

It was Twilight, but she looked like she had been on the bad end of a timberwolf. She had cuts and scratches all along her, and her forehead and torso were bandaged over. Her mane fell in strands, stuck together by dirt and grime, and the bags under her eyes were reminiscent of a three-day cram session.

His mind immediately swam, attempting to remember the last thing that had happened before he went under. Twilight and the telescope... her eyes... He gulped once more. Kissing... and then...

Nothing. It was all a blur, taken from him by a lump on his head the size of a small fist. So, then, what had happened to Twilight...

Seeking external guidance, he got out of bed, stumbling as he walked away his morning fatigue. Tiptoeing, he reached the door on the far side of the room and ducked through it as silently as a 5 foot tall dragon could muster.

Fluttershy was dead asleep on the couch, the floor around her populated entirely with open first aid kits, bottles of medicine, and tubes of ointment. An enormous grizzly bear slumbered beside her, and Angel was perched sleeping atop it’s belly.

As he closed the door behind him, Fluttershy began to stir from the noise. Though her mane completely covered her face, she began moving slowly, looking past the tangled mess and over to Spike.

“S... Spike!” she squealed, albeit softly through fatigue and ache. She yawned out a tiny squeak as she stretched her body awake, before settling on a small, sincere smile. “Ah... I’m so glad you’re awake! I...” she began to shake slightly as the memories of the night returned to her. “When you two showed up at my door I... I did everything I could! But... oh, I was so worried, I...”

Spike furrowed his brows, trying to take in what Fluttershy was saying. Fluttershy stopped talking suddenly, hiding behind her mane as if guilty of some unspoken transgression.

“Is... Is Twilight awake?”

Spike blinked, and shook his head. “I can’t even remember what happened, Fluttershy. We were up on the hill out in the fields, and I...”

He bit his lip. “I tripped, and got knocked out I guess,” he said lamely, shifting his eyes to the ground. “I can’t remember anything after that, though. What happened?”

Fluttershy was quiet for a moment as she collected her thoughts, before slowly beginning to recall the happenings of the previous evening. “Late last night, Twilight collapsed on my doorstep carrying you on her back. She was out cold from the moment she saw me. I saw you were unconscious, and so I thought you were hurt, so I didn’t...” Fluttershy stopped, and tears began to well in her eyes.

“I... I didn’t check her until I was done with you... so I didn’t see how bad...” she whispered, looking to the ground in shame.

Spike’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly. “What, Fluttershy? You didn’t see what?” he said, taking a step forward.

Fluttershy closed her eyes. “Her leg... she broke it somehow, but it wasn’t just that. It looked like she had just kept going. She... she had a severe concussion and there was a lot of blood... ” she whimpered softly. “I... I promise, I did the best I could. She would be at the hospital right now if moving her wasn’t so dangerous.”

Spike stood silently, piecing two and two together. He felt the wave of realization hit him, and he had to lean against the wall for support.

Fluttershy sat on the other side of the room, shaking. “I... I did everything I could, I’m sorry. W-When she got here, her leg was completely...” Fluttershy could not even muster the words, instead wincing as the memory assaulted her brain.

“I did this,” Spike said, beginning to shake.

“Spike, no, you can’t really—”

“Twilight carried me here all the way on a broken leg because I was too stupid to...” he continued, before choking on the beginnings of a sob. “She’s... she’s asleep in there, suffering because she had to carry me all the way back into town,” he continued, standing up and turning his back to the pony. “I did this.”

Before Fluttershy could give a word in rebuke, Spike walked into the living room and slammed the door behind him.

Angel awoke from the sudden noise and rolled over, grumbling, before looking around the room. After a moment, he lifted himself onto the couch beside Fluttershy. With a sympathetic gaze, he wrapped his body around her hoof, embracing it softly.

Fluttershy smiled warmly. “Oh, thank you Angel. But really, if there’s anyone you should be comforting it’s Spike.”

He quieted her with a shake of his head, tapping his foot and pointing to the other side of the room.

The door to Twilight’s room was open a crack, and through it Fluttershy saw a single moving hoof, beckoning her closer. Fluttershy jumped to attention and galloped into Twilight’s room with as much speed as she could muster.

“Oh, Twilight, you’re awake! You can’t imagine how relieved I am that--”

Twilight shook her head weakly, her eyes barely slivers. She motioned with her hoof for Fluttershy to come closer.

Almost inaudibly, she whispered “Rarity,” before lying her head back against her pillows and receding back into sleep.

Spike sat on a couch, facing the fireplace and staring sullenly at the bricks and mortar as if their presence would somehow provide him the guidance he needed. His face was still damp, but the questions that evoked the tears still ate at his conscience.

For the first time over the course of an adrenaline and excitement filled week, the implications of his actions hit home. He hadn’t even asked if Twilight was comfortable with their growing closer, or if she even cared for him intimately at all. While the week for him had been filled with joy, he had almost seemed to forget that his feelings were forged on an artificial premise.

Twilight had no feelings for him beyond friendship, and yet he had let his heart get involved. All it had got him was a terribly wounded friend and a lump on the back of his head. After that first night by the fire he had realized that the way he acted couldn’t just be for practice. The flush it brought to his face, the way it made his heart race, the lump in his throat whenever he looked into her eyes; they were results of true feelings. All the while, he had forgotten that Twilight had simply agreed to help him because they were friends— not on the premise that they should become anything more.

And he had taken it too far. Much too far, without ever considering that Twilight only felt he was a friend. He felt the tears begin to swell up again, as his mind forged the only ultimatum that could save their friendship.

He could never put Twilight in a position like that again. The risk of letting himself lose control and destroying their friendship forever was too great to push it any further.

Almost on cue, he heard hoofsteps slowly enter the room. He did not turn around or address them, asking only “Is Twilight awake?”

“No, dear,” came a soft voice, accompanied by a hoof placed onto his claw. “But I’m not only here for her, you know,” murmured Rarity, looking sympathetically into Spike’s eyes.

Spike blinked, immediately bringing his hand to his face to wipe away the tears. “R-Rarity, what are you doing here?” he mumbled, looking away from her in embarrased shame.

Rarity placed her hoof on the side of Spike’s face, directing his gaze back to her. “Fluttershy fetched me because she felt a certain dragon was beating himself up over something he had no control over.” She smiled slightly. “Have any guesses as to who that could be?”

Spike attempted to look away again, but only managed to drop his gaze. “I... you don’t understand...”

“Truer words have never been spoken. I’m sure no one could understand with you shoving up all that guilt inside, sweetie,” Rarity said, finally dropping her hoof to allow him to look away. With a short nudge, she scooted Spike over on the couch and sat next to him. “You don’t have to say a word. Just know that, if you’d like, I am here for you.”

Spike shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where to direct his eyes now that another was present. Here he was, sitting next to the lifelong mare of his dreams, and all he felt like doing was crying. But crying was not an option-- not in front of her.

Like packages left unopened, the thoughts that had plagued him for the last hour still remained.

How... how could Twilight ever forgive him? His face grew somber again.

Would their friendship ever be the same? His jaw clenched and his eyes instinctively shut.

What if she never recovered? He felt the tears coming on again, but he held them back.

She would never love him. The thought panged torturously against his psyche, and the inevitable wave of despair finally hit.

He turned to Rarity, embraced her and began bawling into her mane. The tears felt wonderful, letting go the pressure of shame drop by drop. Rarity wrapped her forelegs around him, but he hardly even noticed, thoughts enveloped completely in his own choking sobs.

“I’m so sorry...” he bawled, heaving pitifully into the beautiful purple of Rarity’s mane. “I’m so, so sorry...” Why did Twilight have to get hurt? Why had he realized what he was doing too late? Couldn’t he ever just learn a lesson by himself?

Spike cried for nearly ten minutes, mumbling abject apologies and worries as Rarity held him. Finally, his sobs were reduced to sniffles and heavy breaths, reluctantly pulling back from the hooves that comforted him.

“Thank you,” he whispered shamefully, but Rarity dismissed his worries with a nod and a caring smile. If only she knew just how involved she was in his guilt. She would understand; she always understood.

“We were up on that hill because we were on a date,” He blurted out. Rarity’s eyes widened slightly, but she promptly repressed her curiosity and simply gave another nod. “Twilight... I just wanted help. I just wanted to know what to expect,” he confessed, finally raising his eyes to look at Rarity. “I didn’t want to keep messing up, Rarity. I asked her to try and help me, but I took it too far. She shoved me away... she must have hated me right then. Stupid me had to get knocked out from a little shove like that, but...” He let out a long breath and dropped his head into his hands. “She carried me all the way here anyways. Even after she got hurt; badly. She walked all the way here, just for me. Why couldn’t I have just...” he groaned, made his claw into a fist and hammered the couch next to him.

“She does not hate you, Spike,” she said softly, placing her hoof on his leg. “Nothing you could do would ever come between the years of friendship the two of you have, dear.” Spike looked into her eyes, wide and understanding as she addressed him. “She carried you back because she must have worried the worst about you.”

Spike cringed, guilt panging his conscience as if her words were an accusation.

Rarity dropped her eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. “The responsibility for her actions does not lie on you, Spike. Twilight has a way of turning frantic when the unexpected happens, but she also cares deeply about her friends,” preached Rarity, nodding as she finally found the words that fit her motive just right. “It was her duty to ensure your safety, Spike, no matter how foolish. Her ‘Pony Code’— understand?”

Spike sat in silence for a moment, before acknowledging her comments with a nod. Rarity smiled sweetly, beckoning a slight smile in response from Spike. “Thanks, Rarity. I just don’t know if I’ll feel right about this until I talk to her about it. Thanks for...” He flushed as he thought back to his rather emotional outburst. “Thanks for being here, I guess.”

Rarity smiled warmly. “Of course, dear. I couldn’t bear the thought of a cherished friend destroying himself inside, no matter how dire the straits.” The two sat in silence for a moment, but Rarity seemed discontent to allow Spike to recede back into his own mind. She extended a hoof, dropping it onto his leg with a warm smile. “I am always here for you, Spike. Don’t ever think any problem is too large to share with me for my own sake. All right?”

Spike looked away, though his slight smile betrayed the battered persona he was attempting to portray. After a moment, he looked back to Rarity, whose eyes instantly locked on his own. Her smile was truly infectious, and despite himself he felt obliged to return it fully.

“Now, then. Onto the other issue, why don’t we?” Rarity said, grinning and fluttering her eyelashes.

Spike blinked, and cocked his head. “What other issue?”

“The issue of you, Spike,” Rarity said firmly. “It’s been years, Spike. I just don’t understand why you’ve kept your feelings under wraps for all this time.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he looked away immediately. He said absolutely nothing. His mind whirred as it realized that, for the first time, he had spoken about his feelings for her in his guilt-laden rant.

Rarity giggled, causing Spike to flush with embarrassment. “And now I learn that you’ve even gone to your closest friend for a rather personal vein of advice?”

“What I just don’t understand, Spike...” Rarity purred, scooting herself closer to the dragon. “Is why you haven’t ever said a word of it to me.”

Spike’s eyes widened as he felt Rarity scoot up against him. “A... I... bu...” he mumbled, blushing as red as his scales could manage. He finally turned his head, forcing himself to address her but finding her eyes immediately locking onto his.

“Didn’t you ever consider...” Rarity continued, her voice low as she smiled and held her gaze. “That after all these years of friendship, you were not the only one smitten?”

He blinked, and he was sure he felt his heart stop. “What did you just...?” he began, but quieted himself as he saw Rarity leaning her head closer to his own. His mouth opened, trying to say something, but was shushed quietly by Rarity.

Her nose rested against his, and he felt her breath against her face. “Oh, Spike. The things you said were never foolish,” she whispered, putting her hoof on his hand. His heart beat rapidly, entranced completely in the beauty of Rarity up close. “The only foolish thing you did was saying nothing at all.”

She closed her eyes, and he met her as she leaned forward, locking her sweetly in a kiss. He felt her heart flutter in her chest, and heard her lungs expand with a long, elated breath. He pulled back only for a moment, then pushed forward and kissed her again, bringing his claw up to rest lightly on the side of her neck. Her lips were soft and delicious against his own, and tingled faintly, tasting of peppermint. The kiss was indulgently long as he took in all of the finite beauty of Rarity up close. Her breath passed wistfully over his own nose, smelling like a smooth vanilla, his mind reeling over the desires it evoked.

He felt a hoof push softly against his chest, and slowly, painstakingly, broke the kiss.

They sat silent for a moment, though Spike was so spellbound by the scent of her breath he had to constantly fight against his desires for more.

Rarity smiled with her eyes, face still against his as she slid the hoof on his chest down to his hand. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she whispered, nuzzling him sweetly.

Spike had no reply, his brain still buzzing with frantic amazement at the events that had just transpired. Rarity simply giggled, and kissed him on the nose. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, Spike.”

“No,” Spike replied, hushed and bewildered. “I don’t have any idea. I wish you would have just...”

“Told you earlier? Well, isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” Rarity mused with a grin. “I somehow knew I might be the one to tell you, as many romantic bylaws as that does break. Though, I guess that’s the point. You’ve never given me the regular courting others have, Spike. All you had to do was give me the time of day and just... be there. Dedication, more than smoothness or confidence, is...” She shuddered slightly. “Immensely attractive.”

The only thing that kept Spike from wholeheartedly believing he was in a dream was the tingle that lingered on his lips.

“It’s not hard to fall into devotion when a mare so beautiful calls you a friend,” he whispered dreamily, coaxing a loving smile from Rarity.

“So, I get smooth and dedicated, then? Mmm... yes, I do believe that qualifies you for a first date,” she murmured with a twinkle in her eyes. She leaned forward, kissing him again, this time leaving her eyes half open as she did.

A squeak sounded from across the room, followed by a crash and a hushed “Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh.” Spike and Rarity turned their heads to see the tail end of Fluttershy diving out of the doorway. Spike immediately began to blush again, but Rarity only sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Come out, Fluttershy. What is it?” she called, backing off from Spike and sitting at a regular distance on the couch.

At first, there was no indication that she had been there at all, but after a few moments Fluttershy peeked her head back into the threshold of the door. “H-Hello you two!” she chirped, her face entirely red. She gulped. “I... I didn’t mean to interrupt your... discussion,” she said, laughing awkwardly as if she had just told a joke. “Just, um... Twilight’s awake.”

Twilight opened her eyes slightly as Spike rushed into the room with far more speed than was necessary or appropriate. Inwardly, she felt tired in every perceivable way, that even simply realizing her fatigue pushed her ability to critically think. Talking was out of the question, but she was sure she could manage a few nods or something akin to them.

The only thing keeping her awake was an odd sensation that she simply could not physically sleep any longer. She had woken up once, but she could hardly remember what had happened in the hours since: her only memory was that she had spoken to Fluttershy very briefly. The deed had seemed of utmost importance at the time, but now she was having trouble picking out why she had gone through the trouble at all.

Already she felt the instinctive desire to close her eyes returning, as if doing so would allow her to hibernate her discomfort away. The only clue to how long it had been already was the death-like feeling of stiffness that came in muted aches from her limbs. She would stretch, but the intermittent dull pulses of pain advised her convincingly against it.

Spike was apologizing. She could tell, even though she had not heard a word he said. Rather, she could simply hear the word “sorry” reverberating as if her mind was an empty ballroom. The intricacies and careful words of the deed were left untranslated.

She nodded, evoking a surprised pause from Spike, but that was all she felt up to attempting. He mumbled a few final words, then made way for Rarity to approach.

Rarity understood. She sat there, silently, and placed her hoof onto Twilight’s. The simple physical contact left a more profound impact than any words could have at that moment. After a minute or two, she mentioned she would return again, smiled, and stepped back.

Spike had been standing awkwardly at the back of the room, averting his eyes from Twilight as if she was a victim in a burn ward. Rarity’s presence, however, provided him some much needed comfort, and he managed a smile in Twilight’s direction. She did her best to reciprocate, which seemed to help things a bit.

After a moment that would have been awkward if Twilight was coherent enough to pin it as such, Spike and Rarity left. Only Fluttershy remained, allowing Twilight to turn her full attention to the yellow pony.

Fluttershy was preparing something in a bowl, but the thought of consuming anything at all made Twilight feel uneasy. Instead, she attempted to listen to what Fluttershy was saying.

“Concussion” was the first word that struck her as important. The details behind how it had happened still eluded her, but the word explained her condition well enough— though she had never expected a concussion to feel this debilitating.

Then came the second sensible phrase: “Blood Loss.” That sounded more like it, but the fact that she could not feel any wounds or cuts across her body disturbed her. She let out a shudder, to which Fluttershy nodded sympathetically.

Fluttershy turned to her and brought a spoon to her face. Logically, she should be ravenous, but the soup smelled as stale and unappealing as soup could get. Begrudgingly, she opened her mouth slightly, and felt the soup run warm down her throat. Fluttershy smiled an approving smile, and went to fetch another spoonful, while going on with her report.

Over the course of the session, she picked up on her leg being wounded, and how Fluttershy had used possibly every combination of pain numbing treatments to keep her under. The combination of the medication, the blood loss, and the concussion explained how trapped she felt within her own mind. She figured she should be in the hospital, but assumed that she was simply too hurt to move at this point. By the tenth spoonful or so, she began to see a creeping blur roll in from the edges of her vision, and figured she could go back to sleep again.

Worrying and problem solving could come later; it was time to go back under.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Khakispony for being a wonderful set of fresh eyes and a diligent proofreader.