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// Chapter 4 
// Story: Looking Back 
// by baconcake 
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      Spike was done. There was nothing else to it. These memories were painful enough the first time, and reliving them was just too much. Spike didn't even care about the future anymore. However painful it might be, it couldn't be any worse than it was now, and Spike wasn't going to advance this pain.
      And so, to clear his mind of something that would never enter it again, Spike unsheathed his giant wings, jumped out of the cave, and flew harder than he had ever flown before. He slammed his wings down against the thin air, propelling himself higher and higher, faster and faster. He flew furiously, dominating the sky with his strong body, flying over the forest.
      "I didn't ask for this!" he roared into the wind. "I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS!" Spike stuck his angry face forward, creating the perfect aerodynamic shape for maximum speed. Hot tears of frustration formed in his eyes and zipped behind him in the wind. However, the ones that stayed blurred his vision, and began to affect his flying, so he stopped to levitate for a moment, wiping them from his eyes.
      "Damn it!" he shouted, angrier than he had ever been. This wasn't fair. Spike hadn't done anything wrong in his life. He'd tried to be kind, harmless, friendly... it's not like he had done anything to deserve the turmoil that be was currently going through. Yet here he was, alone and angry, high enough to touch the heavens yet still deep in hell.
      Spike surveyed the ground. He was still above the forest, the endless trees that seemed to follow him for miles. All that Spike noticed was a boring loop of trees and brush until he looked directly below himself. Oh God... he thought as the shock of what he saw caused him to suddenly lose control of his wings, which caused his body began to plummet towards the ground like an anchor.
      Down Spike continued to fall, his heart beginning to sink until, with a sickening bang, he hit the ground. It definitely wasn't a painless landing, but it was nothing that he hadn't endured while teaching himself to fly. After a few seconds, Spike pushed his body from the ground and looked around at what had caused his descent.
      He was in a clearing, sitting in a large patch of blue and gold flowers. They were intoxicating as they were beautiful, but it wasn't their smell nor their appearance that Spike was concerned with. They were yet another signal given to Spike's mind from the past, another message that said, "You will never rest until you remember every bit of me." And it was right.
      Spike put his head in his hands, defeated. He began to cry lonely, hopeless tears. These stupid memories had won. He had to remember the one that these flowers had returned memories of. The kindest pony Spike had ever met. Fluttershy.
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      Spike followed the sound of that beautiful singing voice through the woods. He was lost, of course, as he always was when he got this deep into the forest, but if Fluttershy had been expecting him and he hadn't arrived on time, she would send her beautiful voice sailing through the woods to act as a compass for Spike, pointing him towards her house.
      Finally, Spike made it through the trees to pass into the clearing and see Fluttershy tending to yet another injured animal. She noticed Spike immediately and smiled up at him shyly from behind her even lighter now rose-pink mane. It amazed Spike that after nearly seventy years of knowing eachother, she still couldn't break down the barrier of her shyness with him. But it wasn't like that was anything odd. She was like that with everyone.
      Of course, it wasn't like she was stand off-ish or anything like that. She was a warm and compassionate pony, her kind, blue eyes welcoming anyone in. And even now old as she was, Spike was sure that she hadn't gained any kind of bitterness that generally came with old age. She never seemed to stop caring for others, and nothing for herself. In fact, this had always worried Spike.
      "Hi, Fluttershy!" Spike said joyfully. He was rather excited about today. It was the first time they had spent time together in a while. They were going to plant some flowers in her garden, which she had trouble doing alone in her old age. 
      "Hi, Spike. Thank you so much for coming. I really do appreciate the help. I must have made quite a dent in your schedule, what with Rarity and her..." her voice trailed off.
      "Oh! Yeah, uh, don't worry about it," Spike said  quickly, eager to take his mind off of the situation at home. "So!" he began, "What are we starting with?"
      "Well today, we'll be planting some blue geraniums and marigolds. I've been excited about these for a while now, and I suppose now is as good a time as any. I'll get the planting tools. Just a moment." She turned around and walked inside.
      Spike couldn't help but notice just how beautiful Fluttershy was. Even in her old age, her kindness seemed to make her appear prettier. Almost like the pure whiting of a statue after several years on display, her golden fur had turned an elegant ivory, giving her the odd appearance of a deity.
      About a minute later, Fluttershy returned with the gardening tools and a few packets of seeds. "Here you go," she said, and handed Spike some seeds, a watering can, and a small dirt scoop. They then proceeded to the patch of soil that lay in Fluttershy's seemingly perfectly kempt backyard.
Fluttershy, kneeling down, began a hacking cough.
      "Are you okay?" Spike asked, concerned.
      "Hmm? Oh yes, of course, just a bit of a cold I'm having." That was Fluttershy, alright. She had to make sure that no one ever worried about her. "Now then," she said, "Let's get to planting!"
      Spike began with the dirt scoop to hollow out some areas for the planting. Spike wasn't exactly a planting expert, but he had learned a thing or two from the few times that he had had to create some external beauty around Twilight's house. He then grabbed some of the geranium seeds, put them in one of the holes, and packed the dirt tightly around it. Fluttershy was already working on the marigolds. They talked as they worked.
      "So, how's Angel the Fifth doing?" Spike asked.
      "Oh, just fine. He's out playing with some friends in the forest right now. He's been limping lately though, so I'm going to have to mend her leg up when she gets back. I wish that he would be a little bit more-" She began coughing again. This fit was worse than the last, and lasted about twenty seconds.
      "Fluttershy," Spike said, worried. "Are you sure you're okay to be planting today?"
      "Oh, I'm just fine, trust me. It's just a small cold, is all."
      But no reassurance would have made Spike comfortable. He had hated enough seeing Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash pass on, and now the fear of losing more of his friends was all that seemed to consume him. Every sneeze of Twilight's or shallow breath of Applejack's seemed to drive Spike over the edge with worry. He knew, and had known, full well that he would outlast all of his friends, but now, as their lives drew to a close, he couldn't help feeling that if he hoped or worried enough, maybe they could cheat death and share even more laughs with him over the next few hundred years. But it was just a hollow dream. The same hollow dream that kept Spike awake every night. There's no way that this can end, he would think,We're all supposed to be there for eachother. Something like this doesn't just... end... right? And then, just like every night, Spike would cry himself to sleep, realizing that loneliness was all that awaited him in the future.
      "Okay." Fluttershy said suddenly. "All done."
      They were, in fact, done. Spike hadn't even noticed, being lost in his own thoughts for the past few minutes, and instantly felt guilty for not talking to Fluttershy. However, Fluttershy, who was more perceptive than she was given credit for, sensed something was wrong and asked Spike if he'd like to come inside and stay a while.
      "I'd love to." He replied with a smile. They stood up-Fluttershy with some difficulty-and walked to her house. Spike sat down in a chair beside the window, and Fluttershy, after pouring them some tea, sat down in the chair opposite his. She began to cough again. This fit was the worst so far, lasting about thirty seconds and causing the beautiful, frail old mare to heave shoulder shaking coughs into her hoof.
      "Fluttershy!" Spike said in worried surprise.
      "No... I'm... I'm fine..." she choked out. "I just...I..." She began to hack awfully again, this time, drops of blood escaping from her throat.
      "Oh God, no!" Spike screamed, in hysterics. He grabbed Fluttershy's shoulder and looked into her face. Her head was beginning to loll and her eyes were rolling back in her head. Within a minute, she was completely unconsious. Spike shook her shoulders vigorously screaming into her face.
      "Please! I'm not letting you go too. Wake up!" He yelled. Spike picked her up and laid her down on her bed. He checked her pulse and her breathing. To his relief, they were fine. Slow and shallow maybe, but fine. Realizing there was nothing more that he could do, Spike collapsed hopelessly into the chair beside Fluttershy's bed and began to heave heavy sobs into his hands. Why was he always in this damn situation. He couldn't help anybody. He always had to stand on the sideline and watch his friends in pain. Everytime he tried to help, things either stayed the same or got worse. He was useless. 
      In a rage over his uselessness, he got up and angrily pounded his fist on the wall, harder and harder, until cracks started to appear. "Why does this keep HAPPENING?" He lost himself in his anger, trying to put a hole in the wall, until from behind him came one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.
      "Spike?" Fluttershy had woken up. She looked horrible, but smiled as kindly as ever. Spike couldnt take it anymore. He became hysterical once again and kneeled down beside her bed.
      "Fluttershy, please don't-"
      "Shhh..." she took his head in his hands and smilled. "It's okay, Spike. Listen, okay?" She looked out her bedroom window to the patch of dirt where they had just planted the flowers.
      "Whenever a flower dies, it's stem breaks and it's petals fall to the dirt where they are consumed by the soil. This makes the soil fertile so even more new plants are able to be grown in it. The new flowers become even stronger and more beautiful than those that came before them. And then they die, and the next flowers are even stronger and better, and so on. Spike, we're just the same. We live our lives, we enjoy ourselves, and we die, letting the next generation learn from and improve on our imperfections. You're going to lose alot of friends, Spike. Just remember this. Learn from them. Keep on improving yourself so that when you die, people will say, 'He was the perfect flower. I'm gonna be just like him.' I know you can do it, Spike. Trust me."
      "No, please! Dont leave me here! Dont leave me all alone!"
      Fluttershy's eyes wers closing as she softly spoke her last words. "Angel likes soup after he gets bandaged up." And then she was gone.
      Spike's head fell on her chest, where he sobbed for the next few hours.
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      Spike layed in the clearing, looking numbly up at the sky. He couldn't cry anymore. He tried and tried but he couldn't, and that just made him want to cry again. He was halfway done. The home stretch. But it didn't feel like it. The more Spike remembered, the farther away from happiness he felt. Who knows? Maybe Fluttershy's advice would be relevant someday, but now it was just salt in the wound that seemed to gape wider and wider every second.
      Spike looked gazed at the flowers around him. They were delicate. Soft. Beautiful. But deep inside, they harbored a strength to keep them rooted to the ground which nobody could understand. And of course, they were always there to provide comfort for the sad or broken-hearted. Just like Fluttershy.
      "Thanks Fluttershy," Spike whispered as he stared up into the sky, "For making me stop and smell the flowers."