//------------------------------//
// Pt.1 - Chapter 16 
// Story: The Starlight Broadcast 
// by ponyfhtagn 
//------------------------------//

Rarity couldn’t sleep.
Maybe it was all the excitement of visiting Cloudsdale. Or maybe it was something that pegasus with the newspapers had said, still cycling through her brain.
…or maybe it was all those cups of hot chocolate.
Spike had put on the green and purple colt disguise and Rarity had introduced him to her parents. She and Spike had prepared a back story about how he was a friend she had made in Manehatten. She had gone quite into detail in advance, only to discover her parents didn’t even care to ask and they just assumed Rarity knew Spike from school.
The hour was very late now—probably past midnight—and Rarity and Spike were camped out in the downstairs living area so as not to wake the baby with their pillow fights. It had been fun. But now Rarity couldn’t sleep. She just lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling and listening to the rain outside.
Gradually, then, she became aware of a noise. A sort of… scratching, from a nearby room. The kitchen, she thought. Rarity sat up and gently lit her horn. By the pale blue light of her magic she noticed that Spike was missing from his blanket pile. He was probably just getting a midnight snack.
…maybe…
Rarity got up, dimmed her light and crept towards the kitchen, and as she approached the archway there was a whoosh and a flare of green light. She peered cautiously into the room. She could see the dragon-like shape of Spike sitting at the table. Rarity was about to speak when she saw him lurch over as if in discomfort and there was another green flare and whooshing sound.
“Spike?” Rarity whispered, brightening her horn-light.
Spike twitched in alarm and fumbled a scroll of paper.
“Spike, what are you doing in the dar—”
There was a third green flash. Not the same as the other two. This was the familiar green flash of the armband reactivating as Spike changed back into the unnamed colt.
“It’s only me,” Rarity said, stepping closer. “You don’t need the disguise.”
“I—I know,” Spike said, wincing against the blue light. “But just in case.”
He lifted a foreleg to shield his face and Rarity saw the face of his wristwatch.
“Dear me, is it 4am already?” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
As Rarity came closer Spike tried to hide the scroll but she caught it up with her magic and held it away from him.
“What’s this?” she asked, simply curious.
“Nothing. I was—” Spike cut himself off. He fidgeted with the tablecloth and spoke again. “I was just… hoping, I guess, that… I um… It’s difficult to explain.”
“May I read it?” Rarity asked.
Spike squirmed a bit and then nodded. She unfurled the paper and squinted to see by the horn-light. Large letters simply read: “Is anyone there?”
Not ‘anypony.’ Anyone.
Rarity rolled up the paper and passed it back. “Who were you trying to send this to?”
Spike shrugged again, taking the paper and scrunching it. “I guess… me.”
“Yourself?” Rarity said. “Well, it seems to have worked.”
“No, not—Not me,” Spike said. “I mean—”
He huffed and climbed down from the chair. The scrunched paper went into the bin and he walked silently back to the sprawling mess of bedding and empty hot chocolate mugs that was the living room. Rarity followed and waited for him to speak again.
He didn’t. He just stood up on the couch and watched the raindrops licking the window glass through the now open curtain.
“You’ve been keeping a lot of things to yourself,” Rarity whispered from a few steps distance. “I don’t mind if you do. You don’t have to tell me things. But if you’re going to be creeping around in the dark and looking sorrowfully out the rainy window then I feel compelled to intervene.”
Spike didn’t turn his head. “Is that a quote from Shadow Spade?”
“Only the last five words,” Rarity said. “But she makes a good point. Sometimes a lady just has to know what’s going on. For your benefit, Spike. Talk to me. Is this…” Rarity moved a little closer to the couch. “Does this have something to do with Canterlot?”
Spike’s shoulders tensed.
“It’s just that you seem to be avoiding the place outright,” Rarity said. “You wouldn’t even look at it when we were up in the balloon. You keep choosing other locations for us to visit and putting Canterlot off.”
“The Rock Farm was closer,” Spike said.
“Not really,” Rarity told him. “We could just as easily make it to Canterlot and back in a day, if we had an early start. But now you say you don’t want us to go until the weekend?”
“You have school.”
“And if I didn’t?”
Spike didn’t answer. Not at first. Finally he pulled away from the window and sat down with Rarity on the couch.
“I told you that the day we met was my birthday,” he said. “…in a way. Because that was the day I was born. Literally, that day. In theory there’s supposed to be a little baby Spike in Canterlot who’s just a few weeks old.”
Rarity smirked. “And you’re worried about meeting a little baby?”
Spike shook his head. The purple mane of his disguise flopped about most realistically. It was… kind of disconcerting, actually.
“I’m worried that…” Spike took a deep breath and held onto the words for a while. He exhaled. “Look. Everything’s different now. Things that were supposed to happen just kind of… didn’t. You were supposed to get your cutiemark—”
“Spike—”
“I know, I know. It’s not about that. But you were. And so was everypony else. Including Twilight. And Twilight getting her cutiemark was a big part of… of… me.” Spike looked away. “Me being… y’know… born. So, it’s just… If that hasn’t happened for some reason, I—” He scrunched his face and hid behind his mane.
“You’re… worried you may not… exist?”
Spike nodded. “Is that crazy? I mean, I’m still me. What do I care if some other version of me has been born yet or not? It shouldn’t feel so—Ugh. So wrong…” Spike looked up at last and met Rarity’s eyes. “Imagine if you came to visit your family here and found out that you never existed. That it was just your parents and Sweetie Belle but there was no place for you.”
Rarity drew back a little. “Oh my. That would be…”
Spike nodded. “Yeah.”
“Very wrong,” Rarity agreed. “Oh, Spike. I didn’t even realise. I completely understand why you’d be hesitant to go Canterlot. No, no. You take as much time as your need.”
Spike shook his head. “I’ve been doing that, and it hasn’t helped. I think it’s the not knowing more than anything that’s getting to me. I’ve been trying to send—Uh. Well, you saw the letter. I’ve been doing that for a few night now.”
“And baby-Spike didn’t get them?”
Spike shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m even reaching him. Er… me. It’s like with all the other fillies, I just don’t have a clear idea of who baby-me is. Maybe he’s there, maybe he’s not. I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know. But it’s driving me crazy just sitting around and not knowing.”
Rarity put a gentle hoof on his shoulder. “I wish I could say I knew what to do.”
“It’s alright,” Spike smiled. “I’m going to have to face Canterlot sooner or later. I just… I was kind of hoping I could get an answer beforehand.”
“Mm. Shame you can’t reach Twilight either,” Rarity said. Then she thought for a moment. “Does Twilight have… I mean, I assume she does, but um… Parents?”
Spike blinked and brushed his mane aside. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, yes. Adult parents—I grew up with them—I doubt they’re changed too much. I could still—”
“Go, go,” Rarity whispered urgently.
Spike got off the couch and hurried back to the kitchen. For a moment Rarity thought she could hear the tap of his hooves on the hard floor. But that was silly. Spike didn’t have hooves, he had stumpy dragon feet. She chuckled to herself about this as she followed after him.
Spike sat frozen at the table staring down at the paper and quill.
Rarity watched him for a moment by the faint light of streetlamp that shone near the kitchen window.
“Well?” she prompted.
Spike stifled a nervous laugh. “What do I say? Dear Twilight’s Family; this is the Canterlot Census—how many ponies are living with you right now and just out of curiosity do you have any dragons?”
Rarity winced. “Well… the ‘Dear Twilight’s Family’ sounds alright, I guess…”
“Right. Okay. You don’t think that sounds too weird? I don’t want to be weird.”
Spike began to shake a little.
Rarity’s horn lit up again as she picked up the paper and quill with her magic. “Dear Twilight,” she said as she wrote.
“Yeah… Okay…” Spike said, taking a few breaths. “Uhhh… Okay. Dear Twilight. You may not remember me but we were… uh… friends in Magic Kindergarten…”
“Good, good,” Rarity said, writing it down.
Spike nodded. “Um… and I just wanted to check in with all my friends, following the Starburst Event.”
“Mm,” Rarity said. “I’ll throw in some line about how disaster can really put things in perspective.”
“Boy can it,” Spike agreed.
The quill scratched along the page and Rarity nodded. “Okay. And?”
“And…” Spike began to fidget with the tablecloth again. “And… I don’t know. Do I just say… how’s Spike?”
Rarity thought about it. “If she knows, she’ll answer. If she doesn’t then she’ll probably just think you’re confused.”
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Spike said.
Rarity scribbled with the quill. “How… is… Spike?”
Spike let go of the tablecloth. “Yeah. Okay. Now, uh… ask how are Shining Armor and her foalsitter Cadence. Just kind of bury it in there.”
“Done-and-done,” Rarity said and began to write. She tapped the page with the quill when she had finished. “Oh… Signed?”
“Uhhhhhhh…” Spike gaped for a long moment.
Rarity reached up and gently pushed his jaw shut again. “Signed, Rarity.”
Spike blinked at her.
“What?” she said. “I could have gone to kindergarten in Canterlot. She doesn’t know. I’m very sophisticated.” She flipped her mane and fluttered her eyelashes.
Spike suppressed a giggle. “Alright. Signed, Rarity. And it’ll give us a back story for when we go to visit later.”
“Should add my address? So she can mail us back.”
“If that’s alright.”
“No trouble at all.” Rarity scribbled the last lines and rolled up the paper with her magic, floating it gently back to Spike’s claws. Err… or hooves, still, actually. “There.”
“Well. Here goes,” Spike said.
He held the paper and closed his eyes, concentrating with al his might on Twilight’s mother. He remembered her purple and white mane and the way it had been styled when she was younger. He remembered her blue eyes and the way she would hum lullabies when it was late and she had lots of paperwork to sort through. He remembered the kindly mare who had managed to raise two stellar foals and somehow still have room in her house and in her heart for a silly little dragon as well.
Then Spike drew a deep breath and blew a stream of bright green fire onto the rolled up paper. It was a curious thing to see, coming from the pony disguise. And at the first touch of fire the letter sizzled into sparkling smoke and took off out the letter-slot of the front door.
“Well,” Spike said. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
“Is it gone?” Rarity asked.
They waited.
The flap on the letter-slot creaked until it settled again.
“I think it went through,” Spike said excitedly. “I think it worked.” He put his hooves to his muzzle and held back a squeak of joy. Then he got down and pulled Rarity into a hug. “Thankyou for helping,” he whispered.
“Awww,” Rarity said. “Shoo, shoo. Shadow Spade does not hug.”
“But Rarity does,” Spike said, squeezing her a little more.
“Yes she does,” Rarity said and hugged him back.
After a few seconds more she pushed him off with a shiver.
“Sorry, Spike. Your disguise illusion still feels all weird and magicky.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” he said.
“Sorry,” Rarity said again. Then she blinked. “You know… I just realised we could have just written an ordinary letter to Twilight’s address.”
They stood there awkwardly for a moment.
Then they shrugged and broke into giggles once more.