It was two AM. Luna’s moon was high in the sky, gently lighting a peaceful night. Inside Ponyville’s resident library however, “peace” was having a hard time being found.
I just want to sleep. Just one night’s sleep. Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top? Spike begged the incessant noise mentally, hauling his pillow over his head for the fifth time that night. It was really to no avail, as he had discovered the first four times, as he could still hear it. And it was still going to keep him awake. Not to mention that lying with your pillow over your head was extremely uncomfortable.
A long minute passed and then another. Then, as if a sudden limit had been reached, Spike sat straight up in bed and threw his pillow against the wall with a silent scream. The noise stopped. However, Spike knew that by the time he had retrieved his pillow, or for that matter had rolled over to go ahead and sleep without it, it would start up again. Sure enough, by the time he had hauled the small blue square back into his bed, it had begun again. Right on time.
He even knew what was causing this noise. After hearing something for hours on end Every. Single. Night- One tended to analyze what exactly it was that they were hearing. Spike was no different, and intelligent as he was, having grown up with a budding genius and all, he had deduced that the noise was a small rodent in the wall scrabbling around and scratching at the wood.
Now, as they lived in what was essentially a tree that had been magically reinforced to become a library, this in and of itself was not surprising. It was most likely a young chipmunk making its winter den, or a squirrel trying to make a hiding place for its stash. What was surprising, however, was that such a tiny animal could make the most annoying noise in the world.
It also surprised him that Twilight seemed to have no trouble what-so-ever sleeping through it. Despite it having kept him up night after night, she slept like a log and was just as energetic as always each and every morning. Of course he had told her about it, but even Twilight had her limitations, and knowing what to do with small rodent demon-spawn seemed to be firmly lodged in that territory. She had promised to get Fluttershy to do something about it, but that something had yet to be done. He didn’t know if Twilight hadn’t gotten around to asking her yet, although he was pretty sure that she had at this point, his increasingly dark moods had her more than a little concerned; Or if Fluttershy had just not found a way to safely dislodge the critter yet. What he did know was that if Fluttershy could see into his head, she would no doubt faint at what fates he had come up with for the little pest.
A loud and furious growl rolled out from the wicker basket that had long served as the young dragon’s bed. It was an unusual sound for Spike, as anypony who had met him would tell you, he was more pony than dragon at this point, as his warm heart and sweet demeanour quickly proved. The growl that had just echoed out however, proved that no matter what, a dragon was a dragon, and this one, gentle as he usually was, was nearing his limit.
If you don’t stop that now and soon I am going to find a way to rip into the walls and tear you quite literally apart.
On any other night, this thought would have likely disturbed him. Spike could barely bring himself to purposefully damage inanimate objects, let alone harm a living thing. On this night, however, after going on busy day after busy day, filled with studying and adventures and responsibilities- All on one or two hours sleep- Spike was beyond tired. He was beyond exhausted. He was depressed, frustrated, irritated, and above all, he was ticked.
What right did this little rat have to make him miserable, anyway? Why did it get to do whatever it wanted while he was stuck working his butt off on no sleep? It almost seemed to taunt him. It didn’t matter when he tried to catch some sleep, that horrid noise would be there. It didn’t matter where either. His hearing was quite good, and that horrible rasping scratching din almost seemed to echo like Discord’s ever-blasted laughter. It was like an evil anchor forever preventing him from drifting off into the sweet bliss that was sleep.
Another good question was “Why don’t they make earplugs for dragons?” That would have been such a lovely simple solution. But no, as reptilian ears are quite different from pony ears, no such thing had even likely been thought of until a couple nights ago. If only he knew how to make that sort of thing. He wouldn’t have minded doing it himself if it meant a peaceful night’s sleep. Then again, maybe his ears didn’t work that way at all. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember how reptilians ears worked. All he could remember of that book that Twilight had read to him so long ago was her surprised exclamations about how different they were in structure. Maybe once he could actually think straight he could go find it again and invent something incredible. He might even be able to think straight now if that blasted noise would just shut up for ten freakin’ minutes.
A spot of empty air just above Spike’s head was throttled quite thoroughly as he threw what could no doubt be called a perfectly justifiable temper-tantrum. With an irritated sigh he flopped back down in bed, an eyebrow still twitching slightly. A somewhat sadistic part of him considered waking Twilight up just so that he could have someone else sharing in his misery… But no, he wouldn’t do that. She had really been doing her best after all, trying again and again to find a way to help him sleep despite it all. She had even sprung and gotten him a little sound generator in the hopes that it would perhaps drown out the incessant noise and let her poor assistant sleep. Spike knew those things weren’t cheap, and she knew that it might not even work, but only on the off-chance that it might, she had gotten it anyway. Of course it didn’t, as the little devices were meant for gentle background ambiance, not drowning out the rodent band of Tartarus, but the young dragon could appreciate the sentiment none-the-less.
It was now two-thirty AM. This was usually where Spike would give up with a blue streak of archaic Equestrian, and would go downstairs to listen to the soft muttering static of the radio and allow his mind to go down the ever-depressing chasm of deep thoughts about the life-spans of ponies and dragons and the concepts of immortality and magic, before falling into a fitful sleep on the couch. It was depressing, tiring, and when it came down to it, not the least bit actually restful. All it really was accomplishing was a nice patch of discoloration on the one couch cushion where tears from nightmares and inevitabilities had stained it.
With that all said, Spike had had enough.
Another growl rolled from his basket, this one much quieter and animalistic. For those of you not versed in the sounds of dragons, let me assure you this is not the soft whimper of despair, or a rumbling huff of frustration. No no, this was a hunting growl. Slowly, a pair of glowing green eyes appeared over the rim of the basket as the noise continued on, oblivious to the fate it had now written itself. Perchance it was a good thing Twilight Sparkle was fast asleep in her bed and oblivious to the world in her own right just then, as what she would have seen would have startled her, and perhaps worried her a little bit. For as Spike slid out of bed, it was not with the lazy swagger of her dear friend and assistant, but the slow slither of a full-fledged dragon.
Very carefully, Spike slid down the stairs in pursuit of the source of the noise. Almost without fail, the third step from the bottom would always creak, and yet this time he passed over it without so much as a crackle from the old wood. With surprising precision, he tracked down exactly where the noise was coming from. It was a spot near the kitchen, which in itself wasn’t all that surprising. Sound always seemed to travel a little oddly from the kitchen.
Here was the hard part however. How was he going to get to the little demon without ripping the wall apart and earning Twilight’s well-justified wrath? An extended claw rapped against the wood above the spot experimentally, as if testing it. The noise stopped for a second, before starting up again in what sounded like the roof.
Oooh, bad move buddy. A somewhat feral grin crossed Spike’s face as he carefully stacked a couple old crates onto the counter before climbing up onto them to reach the ceiling. From what he could tell, the creature was just a few inches to the left of the light fixture. What the little pest didn’t know however, is that light fixtures, such as this little iron lamp, came off. And when they did…
Spike unscrewed the lamp as carefully and quietly as he could, his other hand still pressing against the ceiling for balance. Just as it started to come loose, he undid the four bolts directly across from the nuisance completely, and then grasped the top of it before it could do much more than wobble.
One. He carefully shifted his weight, making sure that he could keep his balance once he’d made his move.
Two… He concentrated, double checking that he knew exactly where the little thing was before carefully lifting his hand away from the ceiling and into waiting position.
Three! Spike yanked sharply down on the lamp, causing it to swing away from the ceiling, leaving a good five inch gap facing him. As he did this, his other hand shot up and into the resulting hole with single-minded purpose. After a loud squeak and a considerable amount of scrabbling echoing out, he felt his claws wrap around fur.
Gotcha! Careful not to lose his prey after all this, he slowly withdrew his hand from the hole without loosening his grip even a little. A small part of his brain noted that the mouse, and it was a mouse now that he could see it, (a small brown and white one, in fact) was trying to bite him. It wasn’t working, of course, with his thick scales and all, but it certainly wasn’t helping it endear itself to him any.
There was only one thing left to consider, now that he had his tormentor tightly in his grasp… What was he going to do with it? Despite everything that had happened, and every gruesome fate he had plotted for this thing during the past few nights, it all seemed quite different now that he was actually holding it in his claws. To actually proceed to kill it right there and then just… Didn’t seem right. The dragon that had been so dutifully hunting its sworn enemy down just moments ago had already begun to fade away, and had left the quiet librarian assistant holding a tiny field mouse.
Still lost in thought of what to do, Spike carefully climbed down from where he stood on top of all those crates. Really, what happened next isn’t much of a surprise at all, with his earlier single-mindedness, and his ever present exhaustion, but it happened with a thud regardless. As he moved to take his last step down, his foot landed on one of the discarded screws and he slipped quite spectacularly to land heavily on the floor with just enough of a crash to startle awake Owlowiscious, but not Twilight. Spike was seriously starting to think that the librarian was just impossible to wake up once she was properly out. It was about a second after this thought had formed that Spike realized that he when he had fell, his grip had reflexively loosened, and the mouse had escaped. After all that... He groaned mentally, not quite finishing his thought, but not quite needing to either.
He stood up carefully, minding the counter’s over-hanging ledge as he did so, and scooped up the stray screw that had plotted his demise. With a sigh he dropped it and its mates in a small bowl that usually held fruit but was otherwise empty tonight. There, now at least no-one else’ll break their neck. Sheesh.
A muffled hoo came from across the room, and if Spike had not been so very tired, he might have amused himself with the “Who who?” gag that he sometimes pulled together with the owl. Tonight however, he just turned around to see what he wanted… And then burst out laughing.
Owlowiscious sat on his perch, looking distinctly pleased… With a mouse tail hanging slightly out of his beak. It was if he was saying, ‘thanks for the snack.’
“You’re welcome,” Spike said softly, still chuckling gently to himself as he headed up the stairs.
The bedroom was as dark and peaceful as it should be, gentle moonlight shining sweetly around the room. His bed was warm and welcoming, and everything finally felt as if it was how it should be. Spike quickly burrowed his way back into his basket, his exhaustion mingling with sweet relief away from the noise that had plagued him so. Pulling his blanket up to his chin, with a satisfied sigh, he closed his eyes and relaxed. There was only one thing bugging him now.
After all that had happened, the silence seemed dreadfully loud.
Spike groaned slightly, his feeling of irritation quickly coming back. This was ridiculous in every sense of the word. Just then, however, he remembered something. With a small smile he sat up and poked a small silver box that was sitting silently by his basket. A quiet whir, and then the soft sounds of crickets on a rainy night began to hum from it. Spike’s eyes slid shut, and he was asleep before his head had even hit the pillow again.
