Bombastic Bookpony's Bazaar of Oneshots

by Bombastic Bookpony

Pokerface (Spike and Twilight, Raripie and TwiPie, Sad)

Spike is not an idiot. He’s not. Twilight Sparkle, the smartest, bookwormingest unicorn in all of Equestria, doesn’t raise no fools, after all. He knew that Rarity did not and could not see him the way he saw her. She wouldn’t think of him as a knight in shining armor, or a dashing rogue, or any of those cliches. He heard the pet names, the cutesy wootsy tone. He was a little brother, and all he got most of the time was ‘My adorable Spikey Wikey’ or ‘Who’s my wittle prince?”. Just like most ponies, really. He was a baby dragon, not let in to the big, serious conversations. Not let into the meaningful moments, the bonding adventures. Not most of the time, anyway.

Which was why those rare, rare moments when Rarity looked at him and saw a man, not a boy, or when she treated him with respect, or when she dropped the cutesy tone and got real meant so much to him. It made him believe that, just maybe, he had a chance. A baby dragon can dream, can’t he?

No, he can’t. Not forever. Eventually, you gotta wake up. And his was a rude awakening, that morning. That morning, Rarity and Pinkie Pie told everypony they were together, and his sweet dreams ended. But he’s Spike, the comic relief. Plaster on a smile, say you moved on already, and everypony accepts it. Even Twilight. If only his dang heart would too.

It was that that kept him up late this night, that refused to let him go to the saccharine world of dreams where the impossible happens, and the painful world of nightmares where the reality is thrown back at you tenfold. Instead, he was stuck in between, in Equestria, with the dull pain of heartbreak. A snack. That’s all I need. A nice, tasty snack and then I’ll be out like a light. So he got out of his bed, barely registering that Twilight wasn’t in hers, opened the door, and made way to the kitchen. And it was there he came upon a peculiar sight.

Twilight was there, sitting on a chair, holding some book. This alone was not out of the ordinary; this is Twilight, after all. But what made it peculiar was that she was crying. Not the crying she’d do at the end of a good book, or at a character’s death or the like. She was honestly crying. He had not seen Twilight cry like that in so long. He has vague memories of a little filly, crying in Celestia’s castle after a bad day at school. But then she closed herself off, and cried no more. Then when they got to Ponyville, she was just so happy, so content. There was barely any unhappy days here. The closest he had seen her get to this was during their first Winter Wrap Up, at AJ’s harsh words. But this was not the same. Spike knew these tears well. He’s not an idiot, after all. These were the tears of a broken heart.

“Twi?” He asked, making way to her.

“Spike!” she choked out in surprise, quickly putting a fake smile on her face. “I-I was just... revisiting some old memories, you know. Nostalgia’s a powerful thing, right?” She unconvincingly giggled. Spike took a look down at the book, and saw it was a picture book. Some had only one pony, some had pairs, some had all of her friends, plus him. But there was one constant.

They all had Pinkie Pie.

And it all made sense. Usually Twi would’ve seen through his pokerface right away, and vice versa, but they were both too caught up in maintaining their own to notice the others’ pain. Time to make up for that.

“C’mon, Twi. I know what’s really up. I’m there myself,” he comforted with a weak smile.

“You-you are, aren’t you?” And without another word, she enveloped him in a big, strong hug, one that felt like she was planning to never let go. Spike had no plans to do so either.

“It just hurts, Spike,” she sobbed into his neck. He only gripped her tighter, and they held each other through the night.

Author's Note:

Prompt #31: Spike witnesses something he won’t soon forget.

Aaaaaaaangst. I like how I tied in both of their pain with each other. Originally this was a bit longer, with a bunch of Twi and Spike reassuring each other, but… it felt hokey. Ending it at the hug felt much more powerful. Actions louder than words and all.

Comments

[PresentPerfect]

I liked this a lot more than I thought I would.