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Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Spike? What's wrong?" Spike looks over his shoulder, he can make out a silhouette of a woman through the rain, but he knows who it was, that sweet voice is unmistakable. Great, now Fluttershy has to get caught up in this disaster that is his life.

"It's..." He tries to wipe away his tears, only for them to be replaced by raindrops. "It's nothing, really." Spike attempts to reassure her halfheartedly.

"Spike, I'm not as naïve as you think I am." Fluttershy scolds. Spike sighs and dips his head again. She mimics his sigh. "I understand." She reminds herself that everyone has secrets they don't want to talk about, and it's best to comfort Spike rather than question him. "Well, we've got to get you out of the rain, follow me." Spike regretfully gets to his feet and follows her. Apparently Spike had ran out of Ponyville and into the field right next to Fluttershy's cottage. He turns his head, now facing the Everfree Forest. Normally, it would have made him feel scared, or at least nervous. Not now. Right now, it seems more like a peaceful place, a place he could go to escape, away from all the people he has hurt.

"Spike, are you okay?" Fluttershy asks as she holds the door to her cottage open for Spike. He turns to her slowly, nodding and trudges into the home without speaking a word. Looking at him, she sees that his face looks like he is practically dead. Fluttershy follows him into her home, more worried and anxious than before.

"Spike, do you need anything? Really, anything you want, I'll get it right away!" Spike walks away from her, responding with nothing. Fluttershy chases him slowly after she closes the door. "Spike? Please say something." He still won't say anything, he has nothing to say. "D-do you need a drink?" She places her hand on his shoulder.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" He grabs Fluttershy's arm and throws it away from him, now eye to eye with the girl. Fluttershy recoils in fear, she has never seen Spike act like this before. His eyes turn wild.

"Spike, please, something's wrong!" Fluttershy tries to reach out to him despite her fear, only for Spike to slap her arm away in his fit of rage.

"Just..." He closes his eyes and lowers his head, clenching his fists into tight balls. "JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Spike shouts, tears stream down his face. He turns around and runs, but he has no idea where he is going, he doesn't know Fluttershy's house at all. However, he is content with running straight up the stairs, anywhere that is opposite of Fluttershy, or anyone he cares about. He bursts through the first door he can find, slamming it behind him as he bursts into tears. He falls into a fetal position with his back to the door. Fluttershy runs after him and tries to open the door to the guest room, the one Spike ran into. She quickly finds that it's locked from the inside.

"Spike? Spike!" She calls for him, but only receives faint crying as a response. She calms down a little, at least she knows he isn't furious anymore. There is a completely new problem, but she knew how to handle this one better.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Fluttershy!" Spike speaks through his sobbing, making sure she can hear him. Fluttershy leans against the door.

"It's okay Spike, I forgive you." Fluttershy sits on her knees on the opposite side of the door. "I-I don't know exactly what to say, but if you need to talk, just let me know okay?" She tries to comfort him, but he still cries just as much.

"Thanks Fluttershy." He manages faintly through his tears. "I think I need to be alone for a while." He says after his tears subsided.

"Spike, it's okay with me if you stay here tonight, you can go back to the library tomorrow when you're feeling better." She receives no response. "Spike?"

"Thanks Fluttershy." He says again, just as he did before. Fluttershy doesn't know what else to say to make him feel better, if he doesn't talk about it then she can't do much. She thinks that perhaps if she makes him lunch he might feel a little better. Regretfully, she stands up and leaves Spike.

The rest of the day is uneventful, Fluttershy placed the food on the outside of the door and left it there, hoping Spike would be coaxed out of his sorrow, if only for a moment. Occasionally she checks on him, receiving faint, short responses. Several hours pass by, and the sky that was covered with clouds began to clear and reveal a pitch black horizon. The food remains untouched. She wonders whether or not she should bring Spike to the library, but even if she wants to, she can't just forcefully take Spike all the way there, he is far stronger than her after all. She also doesn't want to leave Spike all alone. It's far too dark now, and the only thing left for her to do is hope Spike will be in a better mood so she can take him home tomorrow and explain the situation to Twilight. Fluttershy can't stand it, feeling so useless, but she can't think of anything else to do. She knows Spike is still up, probably still sitting beside the door. She walks up to the door and picks up the plate of untouched food.

"Spike, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." His voice gets sadder every time he responds, Fluttershy grows worried.

"I'm... I'm going to make another plate of food, can you please promise me you'll eat it?" She looks over the food, perfectly untouched, she thinks about just heating it up again, but Spike deserves better than that.

"Okay Fluttershy, I promise." Spike had stopped crying, although his eyes are still bloodshot from the tears. After she goes downstairs, Fluttershy begins the task of preparing a new meal for Spike. She's trying so hard to make it perfect that she doesn't notice the knife she's holding is getting increasingly close to her finger as she cuts, until it's too late.

"AH!" She screams, however her scream isn't very loud and comes out as more of a squeak. The tip of her finger draws a small trail of blood slowly making its way down her finger. Quickly, she grabs a soft tissue from the counter behind her and covers the wound, occasionally revealing it so she can suck on it like a pacifier to relieve the pain. Fortunately, she is done with the food, and doesn't have to use the knife anymore. After a few minutes of either holding her finger or sucking on the wound, she puts a band-aid on it and brings the meal upstairs. Fluttershy knocks on the door lightly with one hand while placing the plate on the ground, just like the first one. There is no response. She knocks harder. Still no response.

"Spike, you promised!" Fluttershy whines through the door.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll eat it." Spike sighs. "Can I please just eat it alone though? I don't want to see anyone right now."

"Alright Spike, I'll go to bed, but you have to eat, okay?"

"Thank you, Fluttershy."

"Spike, please, stop saying thank you, I'm doing this because I want to, you don't have to keep thanking me." Spike is silent again. "G-goodnight Spike."

"Goodnight Fluttershy." He seems a little bit happier, at least Fluttershy has that to reassure her. She walks to her room, a bit woozy from being so tired. She collapses on her bed, falling asleep instantly. Spike opens the door to the guest room and looks down at the food. It does look delicious, although his appetite isn't feeling very good at that moment, actually it's more like the entire day. He ponders for a moment on just dumping the food somewhere, but that would be way too mean to Fluttershy. He turns the plate around a bit, examining the food. He stops when he sees a small pool of red liquid on the side of the plate. Unfortunately, while Fluttershy was trying to tend to her cut, she let a little bit of blood spill onto the plate. Spike cautiously dips his finger in the liquid, curious to see what it was. He holds his hand up, and the blood trickles down his finger to his palm.

"No, it can't be." He thinks. This... this is... His mind flashes to the image of Rarity's blood on his finger. "No no no no no no no!" He picks up the plate and throws it against the wall, making an audible smash throughout the house. His mind goes wild, twisting in between reality and images of accidentally hurting Rarity earlier that day, along with her blood on his claw. Spike feels like he's going to throw up. He clumsily makes his way down the stairs, almost tripping on every step until he finally makes it down and into the kitchen. He frantically reaches around until he finds the knife Fluttershy had cut herself with, which still has a tiny red spot on it. Spike grips the knife in both hands and points the tip at his chest. Tears stream down his face and onto the ground. He brings the knife away from him slowly, with the tip still pointing at him.

"Monster." He utters, closing his eyes and letting his tears fall to the floor. He plunges the knife towards him as hard as he can.

"Why. Why am I like this. Why was I born like this. Why am I a monster?" Spike asks himself, but he knows no one will answer. He can only hope that someone will tell him he was like everyone else. That's all he ever wanted, he wants someone to tell him he is a person. He doesn't want someone telling him it's fine to be different, he doesn't want someone telling him it's fine to be a monster, he doesn't want to be a monster at all.

"Spike, please wake up! Spike? Spike!" He opens his eyes slightly, seeing a small sliver of gray. He turns his head, but gray is all he can see. He knows he is on a bed somewhere, but is unsure where or why. He feels like his eyelids are heavier than normal, and can't keep them open for more than couple seconds. The darkness takes him again.

Spike's vision fades in for the second time, there are more voices, and he can see more colors. Spike can feel a tingling in his chest, right where his heart is. He moves his hand over it. His action is accompanied by various gasps he can hardly hear. He opens his eyes a tiny bit wider and can just barely make out the faces of Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, and three other young girls at the foot of the bed. His eyes feel heavy again, he can't stay awake any longer.

Spike tries to open his eyes again, only to close them tightly when he regains feeling in his chest. The unpleasant tingling is much more significant now. He clenches his hand over the increasing pain, but it has little effect. He curls up, almost in a fetal position while sitting on the bed. He has both hands over his heart, grabbing his skin tightly. He coughs and pants heavily. Through the pain he can hear a few frightened shouts and the sound of someone running. A few moments later a person he doesn't recognize is in the room, Spike can make out some yelling, but his vision is still a bit hazy. The person pushes his torso down onto the bed and gives him a shot of something Spike doesn't recognize, then begins applying something to his chest. Spike feels himself losing consciousness again, and fights to stay awake. He quickly loses.

Spike fully regains consciousness for the first time, although with a throbbing headache and a low, drawn out groan. The pain in his chest is gone, however whenever he moves his hand over his chest, he can't feel anything at all. That person must have made his chest numb. He begins to remember the appearance of the man, and he instantly figures out where he is.

"Ugh, I hate the hospital." He grumbles. "Why am I even here anyway?" Spike looks around the room, the window curtains are almost closed, and the room is dark. He can make out half of the moon through the curtains. Spike slowly turns his head to the other side of the room, noticing the room is only for one person. He won't be able to talk to anyone often. He can't tell if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Spike? A-are you awake?" A familiar voice reaches his ears. Immediately he turns his head to one of the few chairs at his bedside, the moonlight just barely making the girl visible.

"Scootaloo? Is that you?" He asks faintly, unable to talk as loud as normal. Scootaloo responds with a nod. "Why are you here?" He coughs harshly, gripping his chest. Scootaloo jumps up and is at his side in a second.

"Spike, don't talk so much! You're hurt!" She says, a bit harsher than she thinks she should have. "Um, please." She adds, trying to sound nicer. "And well, I'm here, uh, because they, um, needed someone to stay with you just in case you had a medical emergency, or something." Scootaloo speaks nervously. Spike doesn't notice her nervousness, he just listens to what she told him.

"Okay." He says softly. "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Sure, anything." She replies, lacking confidence a bit.

"Are you still angry with Sweetie and Apple Bloom?" Spike asks, concerned.

"It's, well." She sighs. "It's kind of complicated." Scootaloo begins twiddling her thumbs. "Wait." She pauses, looking directly at Spike. "How did you know I was mad at Sweetie and Apple Bloom?" She squints her eyes.

Spike's eyes dart around the room, "Well, funny story actually." He speaks fast, and coughs loudly as a consequence.

"I said not to talk so much, idiot!" Scootaloo scolds. They hear sounds of steps in the hallway. "Crap!" Scootaloo utters, running to the window, and just before jumping out she stops and looked back. "See you later, Spike." She smiles, is she blushing? Spike can't tell in the darkness. The footsteps grow louder, and Scootaloo takes a leap of faith and drops to the ground below. Spike's heart almost jumps in shock, then her upper body comes into view, and he realizes his room is on the first floor. His hand is brought to his forehead, making an audible slapping sound before Scootaloo giggles at him and runs away quietly.

"What's going on? Was there someone in here?" The man orders, Spike instantly recognizes him as the doctor who gave him that shot earlier. He steals one more glance at the window.

"It's fine, some birds flew in through the window, but they're gone now." He tries to say genuinely. The doctor gives him an odd look before closing the window.

"Are you sure nobody was in here?" The doctor asks again.

"I'm sure." Spike replies strangely, he isn't a very good liar, but he hopes that his feigned obliviousness would be enough to stop the man from asking any more questions.

"Alright, if you say so." The doctor gives him another quizzical look before exiting the room, leaving Spike alone with only a faint brightness from the moon to light up the room.

Spike looks around the room slowly, examining everything from the curtains on the window to the doorknob. Mostly everything in the room is pure white, as most hospitals tend to be. Spike decides there isn't much else to do besides try to get some sleep, however one question still haunts him.

"Why am I here?"

Spike raises his hand over his eyes as they are assaulted by the bright sunlight. He checks the clock above the door in his room, it reads about 8:30 AM. His eyes slowly adjust to the brightness of the room.

"Oh, good morning Spike." The same doctor walks in once again, this time holding a clipboard and writing down notes, Spike assumes he was taking notes on his vitals and whatnot, though he's eager to ask the man why. "Your visitors will be coming to see you any minute now, they've been very caring during your recovery." He says cheerfully.

"Recovery? Recovery from what?" Spike asks. The doctor gives him a very confused glare, as if he is questioning Spike's very existence. Spike realizes he would have been better off if he hadn't have asked at all. "Never mind, I remember now." He says quickly, attempting to save himself from the doctor's intimidating stare.

"I see... How are you feeling today, Spike?" The doctor asks intently. Spike confidently responds that he is fine, yet the doctor seems very confused about his cheery attitude. "Well... I'm glad you seem to be feeling better, you gave all your friends quite a scare."

"Quite a scare? What did I do?" Spike thinks to himself, searching frantically for an answer. The doctor leaves without Spike noticing. He continues to look for what the doctor could have been talking about within his own mind. All of a sudden, his mind is taken back to the time he was at Fluttershy's cottage. His vision is assaulted by the image of the blood on his finger, then the kitchen in Fluttershy's cottage, and finally... The knife. The knife which he attempted to commit suicide with. The knife which he attempted to end his life with, because he thought - no, because he was certain - that he was a monster. He slowly gets up from his bed. He frowns and glares at the door, his green, lizard-like eyes meet the door harshly. His gaze grows cold and angry as his muscles tense.

"Monster." He says as he slowly but firmly walks towards the door. The word used to bring him sadness and fear, but now it has a completely new meaning. His eyes change once again, from anger and coldness to a look of pure determination. He isn't afraid of that word anymore. He doesn't fear it now. He is a monster.

To be continued...

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