Heart of Scales

Heart of Scales

Turn 4: Reunion

Everypony who's ever slept before could tell you about those first moments of waking up from sleep in the morning. When you're just teetering on the wall between sleep and wake. When you realize that the short images playing in your head were dreams and if you tried hard enough you just might reconnect with that interesting reality. You're just conscious enough to know that it was morning and that it was time to get up, but making that experience a pleasant one requires a few trips back and forth from dream to your bed.

Spike woke up, but didn't open his eyes. Once again, he was lying on some strange, unknown, surface. Unaware of how got there in the first place, who had brought him there, when, why, and how. The last time he had woken up to find the side of his face stuck to cold hard stone atop an arch bridge on some high and windy part of Canterlot Castle. As he thought of the events that followed, he realized that if he was thinking this, he was still alive, and the fall hadn't killed him. He felt that all of it had happened a long time ago.

He turned in his state of half-sleep. What exactly was he lying on? It was soft, fluffy, a heavenly feeling. Was he on a bed? If so, where? Spike opened his eyes and looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He was in a very elegant bedroom. If he had to guess, he would say that he was in another hotel. He looked at the clock, learning that it was fairly late in the morning. He yawned, bringing up a hoof to rub his eyes.

"What?" Spike said, looking at the bottom of some purple hoof. Thinking that it was a prosthetic limb, he tried to pull it off before realizing his other arm was a hoof, no fingers or claws. He now stared at the bottom of two hooves, feeling twice the amount of awkwardness than he had felt a second earlier.

Since Spike had no fingers or claws, he decided to try the next best thing, his teeth. Without a second thought, he munched into the purple hoof, feeling the pain that followed. Biting the hoof was to prove two things, one, that these hooves were indeed his, and two, that he wasn't dreaming. Spike let out a long exasperated groan of pain that sounded like a neigh than his usual growl as he waited for the unpleasant sensation to die down. The pain was less than Spike was expecting from his gem grinding teeth. He no longer had fangs, but instead straight flat teeth, perfect for chewing grass and cupcakes. Just what in the hay was this? He tried sucking his hoof like he sucked his thumb. A hoof was so much larger than a thumb. It wasn't the same and it definitely wasn't going to work.

Spike rolled off the bed, meeting the edge sooner than he expected. He fell off and his snout met the soft rug on the hotel room floor. The bed was several times smaller than he was used to. He got back on his hooves, which now numbered four to Spike's mounting surprise. Not only the bed, but everything felt much smaller. It only took a few steps to get from the bedside to the mirror on the other side of the room.

He stood for the next five minutes gawking at himself in the mirror. Lime colored mane, a smooth violet coat, round pupils instead of slits. Who was this handsome stallion in the mirror? He put a hoof against the mirror glass, making a soft clop sound on the glass as the reflection's hoof met with his own. It really was his reflection.

"No way." Spike took a step back, examining himself a full three hundred and sixty degrees. He wasn't as big as Bigmac, but he looked pretty strong. He was the same kind too, an earth pony. He didn't have any horns or wings, he couldn't fly or use magic when he was a dragon, so he guessed that he used to be an earth dragon. The only thing he found strange was that he didn't have a cutie mark, but this was barely a disappointment. His tail was plain, so was his mane, but his hair overall was clean and flowing without being too neat, something like a cross between Applejack and Rainbow Dash if Spike had to describe it. It didn't matter what it felt like though. It didn't stop Spike from chewing it just because he could. Hair was wonderful. It presented many more possibilities than his spines did.

"This is unbelievable!" Spike said, feeling his face while staring at himself in the mirror, warming up his pony mouth as he saw Pinkie Pie do so many times.

"The potion worked!" Spike laughed. "Wait till I show Rar-"

Spike's smile faded instantly, replaced with a look of extreme unease. He immediately dashed out of the room and galloped across the hall as fast as he could. He wasn't used to running on four legs just yet. However, he was still very fast, skipping the elevator and jumping down flights of stairs until he reached a hotel lobby. He ignored the clerk who called out to him, speeding right out of the front entrance and into the streets of Canterlot.

He tracked down the hotel he and Rarity had been staying in. It wasn't too far from the hotel he had just left. The ponies outside dodged to make way for the purple stallion. He ran past the palm trees in front of the hotel and barged into the lobby. The pony at the front counter looked up, startled to see somepony make such an unruly entrance.

"What business might you have here, sir?" the pony asked, rather affronted as Spike walked up to him. For a moment, Spike was distracted by the way he was being addressed, so highly too. It wasn't anything like the treatment he got when he was a dragon.

"Is somepony by the name of Rarity staying at this hotel?" Spike tried copying the refined Canterlot accent.

"Yes there is. What business do you have with her?"

"So she hasn't left? When is she going to?"

"I'm very sorry, but we do not give out any personal information about our guests."

"I understand."

Realizing there was nothing else that he needed to do here he decided to return to his hotel. Rarity was all right, alive, and that was all he needed to know for now.

Spike left the hotel and was back outside. His mind had been too set on finding out if Rarity was fine to notice his surroundings. With many other ponies around him and being a pony himself, Spike finally felt as if he was part of the public scene. It almost felt like being nonexistent. Nobody cared to even spare a glance for another pony going down the street, although a baby dragon would have been a different story. There were a couple of exceptions however. Groups of mares that he passed now and then would look over and giggle in his direction. Spike wasn't sure how to interpret this. Was he supposed to feel insulted? There was a particular pair of fillies that were eying him from across the street while he was waiting for the signal to change. When he passed them as he crossed, he overheard them whispering to each other about him. Spike pretended not to hear, but he reached the other end of the street with a small smile on his face.

"You have returned, sir," the desk clerk greeted Spike when he returned to his own hotel. "You were in quite a hurry to leave. I feared that you might have found our services unsatisfactory."

"No, that's not it. I just had somewhere I needed to be."

"That is good to know. Then if I may, how may I be of service?"

"This might sound strange, but how did I get here?"

"That is not a strange question at all. I understand why you may ask. You arrived late last night, unconscious, carried by a few soldiers from the royal guard," the clerk explained. "They paid a large amount of gold and a signed notice from the Princess requesting that we prepare the best room for you. Of course I would do nothing but comply, so the guards carried you up to your room and left."

"How long do I have the room for?"

"You are booked until this evening," the clerk said as he checked the book atop his counter.

"I understand," Spike replied, wondering what he was going to do after his stay at the hotel ends.

"Will there be anything else?"

"Actually, yes. Can you tell me where my room is again?" Spike remembered that he was unable to retrace his steps after speeding through the hallways to the nearest possible exit. "But before that, where can I get some food?"

"The buffet is right down the hall in the cafeteria, it's very hard to miss," the clerk replied, going through the room records.

Spike could never fully enjoy the taste of flowers and hay when he was a dragon. Very thin and annoying bits of string from the plants would get stuck between his fangs. He learned the ponies did not have to deal with such an inconvenience. Perhaps it was the fact that Spike now had a pony tongue which seemed to appreciate the taste of flora a whole lot more than his forked dragon tongue did. It was also much easier to chew with his new teeth. Gems no longer felt edible to Spike. It would be best to avoid rocks and stones if he didn't want to break anything from now on.

After making up for breakfast with lunch, Spike returned to his hotel room to assess the current situation. With a good meal in his stomach, he felt calmer, relaxed, and better poised to calculation.

"Alright," Spike told himself as he lay down on his bed, "what to do."

He was now a pony. That much was obvious. Rarity was alright, thank goodness for that. He was brought here by the royal guard under Princess Celestia's orders. That means that the princess was the one that saved him as he fell last night. This was all weird though, just what did the princess intend by bringing him to this hotel? A different one than he was in with Rarity at that.

Just over his tummy, Spike noticed a white travel bag on the makeup vanity. He got off his bed and walked up to it, wondering why he didn't see this before. He was so distracted with his new pony body. It really wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it. Who wouldn't be distracted at finding out such a wonderful transformation had happened to them overnight. Spike opened the bag and found a decent amount of bits inside, and along with it, a ticket for a train to Ponyville, first class. He had a way back home, back to his friends. Boy will they be surprised when they see him like this. He wondered if he was still going to be treated like the baby dragon everyone was used to. It wouldn't be fitting now that he was a near full-grown stallion.

Then Spike began to feel a deep sense of depression. How was he going to explain to them what happened at the Fashion Show? It wasn't like he could tell them that it was another dragon that ruined the event.

And Rarity, how in the world was he going to be able to look in her in the face again?

At that moment, the clock in the room rang; the same kind of magic clock that was in the other hotel, the kind that rang accordingly to the guests' plans and promises. Spike checked the departure time on the ticket. The train was to depart in two hours. Spike decided that since there was nothing else to do here. It was best to listen to the clock and head for the station.

Spike's melancholy only worsened when he read the day's paper at the newsstand in front of the station. Before he even looked at the headlines, he was able to tell what the front page story was about. "A Rampaging Dragon Ruins Fashion Show". He read deeper into the story that described it from a point of view that was not his. As much as he wanted to avoid the subject, he wanted to know the extent of damage he had done. As he scanned the article, he noticed that some important parts of the story were not present. Important information like where the dragon had come from and eyewitness testimonies of how a midget dragon suddenly transformed and set everything ablaze. There were a whole lot of important ponies there. Chances were they would have pushed to get their testimony in the paper. After much thought, Spike assumed that this was some sort of censoring; was he over-calculating things?

Skipping over the little details and trivialities, Spike made it a priority to find out if any pony was hurt. To his relief, no pony was reported to be severely injured. Everypony made it out of the castle as the purple dragon went on a rampage. The final lines of the paragraph ended after telling how it mysteriously disappeared.

Disappeared? So nobody knew where he was?

The injuries that were caused had been the result of poorly executed crowd control and evacuation as everypony panicked to get as far away from the dragon as possible. It was ironic, how the ponies did a better job injuring themselves than he did during his rampage. Spike was only glad that he didn't have to shoulder the guilt of having another pony's blood on his claws, or now, his hooves. Rarity probably made it out safely, he thought.

This entire ordeal has been a struggle between relief and pressure. It was good to know that his rampage wasn't as bad as he feared, but now he had to consider the fact that everypony in Equestria knew of what he had done. This includes Ponyville. He was that purple dragon. The dragon that ruined weeks of planning, working, and designing. Made useless the efforts and sacrifices that many ponies had made to make the Fashion Show what it was. If he was to return, he would have to shoulder that responsibility. Putting aside whether he was a pony or a dragon, would anypony look at him the same way again?

Spike sat on the bench in the station staring at the candy colored train that was bound for Ponyville. The staff was busy preparing for the trip. Spike watched the conductor check the mechanics of the locomotive to get it started. The massive machine began to build up steam. As he was watching the whiffs steam rise into the sky, Spike caught a small scene in the corner of his eye, one that gave him enough pleasure to crack a small smile on each ends of his lips.

These guys are everywhere. Spike chuckled.

It was Brandon the bellboy, pushing an enormous trolley of luggage. Beside him was a shorter but tougher Ted, pushing an even larger load. They stopped in front of the storage car in front of Spike. They worked behind their heaps of luggage so they weren't in view. However, they spoke loud enough for Spike to easily eavesdrop.

"So, that dragon at the fashion show." Spike heard Ted say.

"What about it?" Brandon asked.

"I heard that it was purple," Ted continued. "You don't think..."

"If you got something to say, say it."

Ted sighed. "You think it was my fault that he, you know..."

"I wouldn't have gone about it like that," Brandon said, clearly knowing what Ted was talking about. "Not really the best way to handle the emotionally unstable, don't ya think?"

"I know right? It was my fault after all. I should have never been so hard on the little guy. I just had a little too much to drink, that's all."

"You had punch you idiot," Brandon remarked.

Spike never really liked Ted all that much to begin with. He might have even disliked him, but he guessed that he was mistaken. Spike got up from his seat and stood behind the trolley to hear better.

"He really did a number on that Fashion Show, let me tell ya," Brandon laughed. "I wish somepony had taken more pictures of that for the papers. I bet that really ruffled their wigs. Poor muppets, I can see it now, our little Spike flipping a table, panic everywhere! Sure ruined their little tea party didn't he?"

"He didn't return to his room. And that Rarity, she didn't look so well."

Spike's pony ears had a sharp, instinctive reaction. They stretched themselves out, allowing Spike to pick up the very sound of their breathing.

"She's lost her assistant, and most of all the Fashion Show went up in smoke. She's been working herself to death before all that, nearly collapsed when she got back from the hospital."

Spike's jaw dropped, suddenly feeling his lunch coming back up. He supported himself with a suitcase on top of the trolley, causing it to fall over.

He had now met eyes with Brandon and Ted over the luggage. Ted had just dodged the fallen suitcase.

"Can I help you sir?" Brandon said in a monotone voice that did not match his regular tone of speech at all. This was probably the way he addressed his clients, and for that reason, he's never heard it before. This definitely caught Spike off guard. They didn't have any idea who he really was did they? He was afraid that his color was too big of a hint.

"I'm," Spike began. Was it really necessary to tell him who he was? If he did, it would only complicate things.

Brandon and Ted gave Spike suspicious glances as he thought about what to say next. He noticed just how much luggage there was now that he was right in front of it. He thought this was a good chance to try working out his new pony body.

"I came here to help," Spike finally said.

"Oh! Did ya?" Brandon suddenly reverted to his usual energetic self.

"Well that's a relief," Ted added.

"I'll take care of these. You guys take a break," Spike said, feeling unusually nice. It was the least he could do for the ponies that took good care of him while he was in Canterlot. It was his way of showing thanks. A rest from work once in a while is probably the best present anypony could give them.

"Hey wait a minute. What's to keep me from thinking that you're just here to make off with all this luggage here?" Brandon asked.

"You're Brandon and you're Ted." Spike pointed at each of them respectively. "The hotel manager sent me here to fill in."

"Fill in?" Ted asked.

Spike nodded.

"Seems legit," Ted said.

"Then we'll leave it to you, buddy." Brandon smiled as Ted nodded, obviously satisfied with these turn of events. They each gave Spike a wave before disappearing, chatting between themselves as they left the station.

Spike examined his work load and tried lifting up a suitcase on his own. It was the heaviest thing Spike had ever lifted in his life, but he was overjoyed to know that it was several times what would have crushed him when he was a puny little dragon. He tossed the briefcase onto the baggage car with ease. He was having a great time moving things that would have been too large for him to move before. Think of all the stuff he could do for Twilight when he gets back.

"Oh yeah," Spike muttered to himself. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to tell anypony who he really was. Who said he had to? He'll find ways to be Twilight's assistant again, even if it wasn't official. This was a second chance given to him. By whom, Spike didn't know, but it was up to him how to use it. To Spike, this was the best way. He loaded the last suitcase and took a deep breath. Twas a job well done.

"Excuse me," somepony called to Spike.

A jolt of electricity ran down Spike's spine. He would never be, in a million years, prepared for such an encounter. He turned around slowly, to see a beautiful pale white pony with a purple mane, levitating a few suitcases beside her. Spike recognized the smallest one as his own suitcase, the one he had brought when he rode into Canterlot.

"Aren't you going to take these from me?" she asked.

"Of course," Spike near stammered, coming back to his senses and taking on all of her suitcases at once. Spike noticed Rarity's right forearm. To his horror it was bandaged. He was too stunned to see it moments earlier, but she was avoiding putting pressure on it. After loading the last suitcase, Spike shut the car door and ran away. Seeing Rarity again shocked him. Worst of all she was injured. It didn't matter to Spike how small it was. The fact was that the fault was his. It was because of him that Rarity was suffering.

Spike found his own private car and jumped inside, taking a seat on the bench. There was a table between the bench he was sitting on and the unoccupied one opposite him. Just like the private car he and Rarity were in when they first came. He sat alone, doing the best he could to settle his guilt. He didn't want to leave the car in case he ran into Rarity again. He'd need a few moments of mental preparation before he ever tried to approach her again. Spike rubbed his hoof on his chest, to calm himself down. He found that turning off all the lights in his car helped to do so, making him feel more secure by hiding in the darkness.

Was it going to be like this everytime he sees her? It wasn't like he was able to just run away to a different place because he wasn't used to seeing just one pony. He had to get over it if he was to continue, but this wasn't just one pony. It was the one pony he's ever had true intimate feelings for and the one pony he actually mustered enough courage to confess to. It saddened Spike that even if he did get used to being around Rarity again, it wasn't going to be the same as it was before.

Spike's lips tipped into a melancholic slant. He slouched in his seat, closing his eyes, hoping that the soft rumbling of the train's machinery would relax him. Soon after, the train began to move forward. This was it, there was no turning back. When the train stops, he was going to be back home, in Ponyville. Chances are that all of his friends were going to be waiting for him and Rarity at the station.

Well that wasn't going to happen. Spike was going to have to pass them by without saying a word. He planned to leave the station without looking back but he knew he didn't have it in him to do so. Whether he likes it or not, he was going to have to watch as Rarity delivers the terrible news, recall to her friends what had happened at the Fashion Show, tell the gang that Spike did not return with her afterwards, and apologize to Twilight for letting it all happen. For losing her beloved assistant that she had so confidently sent with her, not even knowing what had become of him.

What a shame. Spike remembered how much he wanted to hear Twilight and Applejack praise him for a job well done as the train left Ponyville a week ago.

The door to his car opened, light from the adjacent car flooded into the dark room as Spike slowly opened his eyes after his moment of thought. Thinking it was the train service pony, Spike took no notice and shut his eyes again. He heard the soft clops of the pony approaching him and eventually reach his seat. At this point, train service pony would ask him if he needed anything, or ask to confirm his ticket. However the pony had taken a seat opposite of him. This was strange. Service ponies never take a seat on the job, especially in the passenger's seat, in his private car at that.

Spike opened his eyes again and saw Rarity sitting opposite of him, staring out the window. She didn't seem to mind the fact that it was near pitch dark in the car. Just as she turned to him, Spike closed his eyes once more pretending to be asleep. Maybe it was because it was so unexpected. Spike didn't have enough time to be shocked. The reality settled in his head and he had come to terms with it.

He was going back home with Rarity after all.

"What are you doing on the train?" Rarity asked, breaking the silence. "Aren't you supposed to be a work pony? Sneaking a free ride are you?"

Spike swallowed, unable to give a proper reply in fear that he might stutter. He took out his train ticket and slid it across the table in front of Rarity.

"That's strange," Rarity said, as she examined it for a few seconds before nodding and passing it back with her good hoof. "I was told that this was a private car."

"So was I," Spike replied in a voice that left him wishing that he had cleared his throat before speaking.

Rarity continued to stare out the window. The shining white moonlight was beautiful on her coat. Spike began to reminisce the image of Rarity bathed in sunlight on their first train ride. In comparison, the moon did a better job bringing out the best of her color. He was even more hypnotized than he was long before. He couldn't help but to notice that her eyes reflected a thick blue melancholy that was also clear on her face. Spike felt that it was best to give Rarity some time alone.

"I'll find another car," Spike said, getting out of his seat.

Spike made his way to the door. Apparently, Rarity felt that the private car might have been too big for one pony.

"Wait," She called. "You don't have to leave. I just thought it was out of place is all. You have a ticket too, so it wouldn't be fair if you left."

Spike slowly returned to his seat, feeling much better after sharing a few words with Rarity. He felt in control of his nerves enough to have a simple conversation with her. This was all possible because she didn't know who he was. Spike wasn't even going to imagine what it would be like if she did. he would rather jump out the window while the train was still speeding. He understood if Rarity felt lonely riding in her private car by herself. After all, Spike was pretty sure she had been expecting to share this train ride back with a certain dragon. She wasn't able to. Why was that? It was all because of him of course, yet another fault to his list of many. The best he could do was to keep her company. After a few minutes it felt to Spike that all that was required of him was his presence. Who knows? It could even be a positive experience. Spike hoped it to be so.

"Who are you exactly?" Rarity said, first to break the silence once more. "You were loading luggage at the station. Now you're riding in a private car, first class."

"That's kind of hard to explain. I was helping a few work ponies out when I was loading the luggage. I'm riding in first class because..."

How exactly was Spike going to explain this one? First class tickets weren't exactly handed out left and right to just any pony with a stack of bits. He certainly didn't have the money to back up his facts if he told her he bought it.

"I just happen to enjoy riding first class from time to time," Spike simply put, leaving as much to the imagination as he could.

Rarity made a subtle curl with her lips. Was she amused at Spike's story? She wasn't going to pry?

"That's a very unusual type to have," Rarity said. "A classy work pony I see."

Spike saw Rarity's injured arm come in and out of view as she moved. Spike bit his lip, wanting to find out how it happened. Of course, he was in an appropriate position to ask that question wasn't he?

"How'd that happen?" Spike pointed clumsily at Rarity's arm.

"Oh, it's nothing really." Rarity said as she tried to hide it under the table.

"It was the fashion show wasn't it?" Spike asked, immediately he thought that he had delved too deep into her business. He couldn't help it. He wouldn't be surprised if the conversation ended right then and there. Rarity appeared to be uncomfortable discussing the subject.

"I understand if you don't want to discuss," Spike said.

"I don't mind, it was the Fashion Show actually. I'm sure you've heard. How exactly did you guess?"

"Well you do seem like the type to be involved with those kinds of things. You appear to be very classy I mean, obviously."

"Why thank you, I can say the same for you. If you don't mind, I've noticed on your ticket that you are headed to Ponyville."

"That's right."

"Me too. I actually live there."

"It's a nice place isn't it?"

"So you've been there before?"

"A… couple of times."

"Not too country for a pony like me, is it? Are you surprised?"

"Actually, no. Too country or not, it's a great place, for anypony."

The car door opened once more. It was train service this time. She switched the lights on, pushing a cart. She stopped at their seats.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked looking back and forth from Rarity to Spike.

"Nothing for me." Spike may have a new pony body, but he wasn't going to risk drinking anything he had no experience with.

"A bottle of whatever you recommend and two cups," Rarity ordered.

"Two?" Spike asked.

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud. I thought you liked to enjoy first class, well this is the way to do it."

Spike couldn't help but slip a small smile. Just yesterday he had thought that he would never again have a chance to spend one of these carefree and fun moments with Rarity. To him, Rarity was somepony that he didn't have the right to be with, a pony whom he was a great burden to, somepony that made him feel many things every time he saw her. To her, Spike was just a pony she met on the train, one that wasn't going to criticize her for being herself or call her unsophisticated just for doing what she wants. Those ponies weren't here breathing down her neck, watching her every move. That's the kind of pressure Spike always wanted to relieve from Rarity while they were in Canterlot. Such stress is unbearable. Now he was here, in the train, chatting with a Rarity who was, despite returning from a ruined endeavor, had some part inside of her that was glad that it was all over. He was fine with Rarity using him as a medium to unwind. As a matter of fact, he was glad to be useful for at least that.

Eventually there sat an empty bottle on the table between the two. Spike was still holding onto his first glass of the funny orange liquid. Since he had avoided actually drinking, Rarity had finished the majority. She seemed to be a little out of it ever since Spike ran into her at the station. That energy she used to have seemed to be dimming down, on the verge of flickering and going out for good. She leaned her head against the window. Spike had thought she had fallen asleep. Before he could let his guard down, Rarity began to speak again.

"The Fashion Show." Rarity picked up her glass and tipped a few remaining drops gathered at the bottom of her cup onto her tongue. "I've worked my hooves to the bone for it."

Spike didn't have anything to say. This was an assault on his conscience from fate itself. It was the perfect impossible test of keeping his face straight as Rarity continued to speak.

"I thought this was going to be my chance. This was make or break. The worst I ever thought would happen was that none of the judges would like my dresses and doom me to be nothing more than the butt end of the fashion show. That at least, I could have lived with." Rarity placed her chin on the desk and stared at the cup in front of her, running her hoof around the rim. "I was gravely mistaken. I never expected anything like what had happened."

Spike was stone faced, staring into his reflection on the orange surface his drink. He wished he would've drunk more of the bottle's contents. Hoping that it would dull the stinging guilt, he brought the drink up to his mouth and splashed the entire glass of the bittersweet liquid down his throat. Immediately he began to feel light headed, but it wasn't enough. He began to understand why Rarity had been so out of touch the entire train ride.

"The dress, the dresses, they were perfect." Rarity smiled. "I was so sure I was going to take the spotlight, everypony loved them."

Spike wished he had left the train earlier.

"Maybe it's the way I am, if I had just been honest. I'm afraid I've made a terrible mistake and don't know what to do next. There really isn't much left is there? I'm so confused."

Spike had no idea what she was referring to. Her speech had become something just above a murmur. A mistake? If she had just been honest? There were so many ways to take it in context. He wasn't sure how to interpret what Rarity was telling him. He sat, sending all his energy to his brain, hoping to come to some sort of conclusion. All he had to do was ask, but he mustn't. He must keep his mouth closed.

"If there's anypony to blame," Rarity said, "it would be me..."

"The fault is mine." Spike said as soon as her words reached his ears. Immediately he stuffed his hoof into his mouth. He had said too much. He stared for a minute or so, waiting for Rarity to respond, or ask him what he was talking about, or say that she knew he was Spike all along, but nothing of the sort happened.

Rarity had fallen asleep. She was sprawled out on the table. He cheek against the surface. Both of her arms were folded in front of her, breathing with delicacy. Spike sighed, once again able to breathe normally without having to hold his breath.

Her injured arm seemed to stand out most of all, what's it to compare with the actual pain she was going through? All along that was really all she was thinking about this entire train ride. Was he really that much of a fool to believe that it was that simple to get over? Accepting one's shattered dreams, like picking uncountable glass shards out of a bad cut, waiting for the bleeding to stop, the wound to heal, leave a scar. Did he really have the right to be wallowing in sorrow just because Rarity didn't want him? He had lived for Rarity's desires, her dreams. He destroyed them with his selfishness and fatally naïve aspirations.

A mistake?

When she believed in him.

If she had just been honest?

If she had only told him to get lost from the start.

Spike stared at Rarity's face resting behind her arms. Right now, he could say anything to her and she wouldn't know would she? This was… good. There was too much on his chest that he wanted to relieve.

"Please Rarity, continue to sleep soundly. For my sake." Spike thought.

The train sped into a forest. The trees blocked out most of the moon, covering the inside of the car with a spotted inky darkness. Maybe it was the sounds of the train reverberating throughout the trees as it passed. There was a different muffled rumble than there was up to now than when the train sped across open plains and mountains.

"It's me, Spike," he began. He knew it wouldn't make a difference to tell her now, but he had to start with his name. Not even to Rarity, but to himself, who he was. He didn't know if he was ever going to get to be "Spike" again. There really was no point in trying to chase the past now was there? He couldn't.

"I'm," Spike opened his mouth once more but he couldn't continue. He was stuck. There was something in the way, keeping his throat from working. The same thing that had been pressing down on his chest since he fell from the tower. The train ride wasn't going to last forever. A chance like this might never reveal itself to him like this again. Alone with a sleeping Rarity? Never. Speak now or forever hold thy tongue as they say.

"I'm sorry." Spike finally figured. Those words held so much weight. Simple, yet it was all he was. The load in his heart seemed to lighten, although not completely. It was a numbing of the pain, not the healing. It was relieving nonetheless. At least Spike had regained his ability to speak.

What's next? There was nothing really else on the tip of his tongue. Was he to tell her that he was stupid for ever believing that she could truly love some dragon? That he no longer held any right to be in her presence?

"You don't believe that," The voice echoed.

"Leave me be," Spike thought. "Your potion does nothing for me here."

The voice did not reply. It was merely an echo.

Spike began to have thoughts, he could always try and start a new relationship with Rarity as his new pony self. The potion might not have been a lie after all.

"No," Spike thought, cursing himself for being so selfish, even after everything he had destroyed by being so. "It was over."

"So that's it?" the voice echoed once more.

Spike hadn't ever had much to say to Rarity now that he thought about it. He could've counted each word off of his claws, if he still had any. He remembered that moment when he told Rarity that he loved her. How well that turned out. Right now, when he told her that he was sorry. She wasn't even awake to hear it, much less know what it was about and from whom it was even coming from. In his head he counted, "I love you" and "I'm sorry". Five words, he still had three left.

"Goodbye," Spike finally said. "Goodbye Rarity."

Two, plenty left to spare. For the remainder of the ride, Spike stared at sleeping Rarity. The real test was to come. He remembered that he was going to be starting a new life in Ponyville. He didn't have a place to go, or live. His friends wouldn't know who he was. He'll have to fool them in order to fit in, even though he knew so much about them. He'll have to watch as Rarity faces her friends again. He wasn't going to be able to tell them that their little dragon was right here, back home.

There had to be a way to make things easier for her. Could he? Or will he just make things worse again? Spike saw outside the window the distant Ponyville station as the train curved. He looked at Rarity. She was the bravest pony he knew, being able to face the reality that whether she wanted to or not, she had to return for the sake of everyone who cared for her. Spike couldn't do the same. He didn't have the guts to even return to his hotel room. The taste of shame has grown familiar on his heart.