//------------------------------// // The First Night // Story: Grief is the Price We Pay // by Scyphi //------------------------------// Fly Leaf permitted both of them to go gather their things and settle into the room that came with their newfound employment that same evening, and so the two disguised outcasts eagerly returned to the abandoned warehouse they had been staying in for the final time to make preparations. As they really had quite little, it didn’t take long. After Spike had a light dinner of the berries Thorax had scavenged for him the other day (and only light, because he could only tolerate so much of the bitter fruit, no matter how hungry he might be) and some tidying up of the warehouse in hopes to minimize any evidence they had ever been here just in case, the two gathered what few things they had, confirmed their respective disguises as Thornton and Spark were still in place, and departed for Fly Leaf’s book and stationery store. By the time they returned to the shop, Fly Leaf was already in the process of closing up for the evening. Thus, considering her two new employees done for the day, she cheerily waved them on up to the room. “You already know where the room is,” she reminded. So they promptly took their things up into the little room upstairs, and upon closing the door behind them, they both stood there and savored their small reward in silence for a moment. Spike took a deep breath, grinning. “It’ll be nice to have a proper place to sleep tonight,” he mused. Thorax however, still disguised, was eyeing the room’s only window, realizing something he had overlooked before. “We should probably think about getting some curtains for that window then,” he observed, pointing a disguised hoof in its direction. “So to insure privacy. We are technically still on the run, and I don’t really want to have to wear my disguise perpetually even here.” “Good point,” Spike remarked, considering the problem for a moment. He pulled out his trench coat from his bag of disguises and climbed up onto the window seat to drape it over the window, covering it up. “That better?” “Much,” Thorax said, and promptly dropped his disguise with a flash of cyan, stretching his natural changeling body afterwards as if it had gotten cramped under the disguise. Spike sat himself down on the window seat and proceeded with the task of determining where to stash their things for the time being. “Well, I think today’s been a rousing success,” he noted aloud as he did this. Thorax nodded in agreement, turned around as he took in the room again. “Modest though it is, we really were lucky to get all of this,” he said. “I’ll be sorry when it’s time to leave and move on to the next destination again…I think I’m going to like it here…” he got a faraway look for a moment. “…it feels safe here.” Spike looked around the room they now had to themselves. “It does,” he agreed, though he was cautious to tell himself not to get too attached; they were only staying here temporarily until they had gathered enough supplies to leave Equestria entirely. “Also, we’ve got a paying job to back it up, and going from what we did today, it’s decent enough.” “Yeah, and it’s great helping customers here,” Thorax remarked wistfully as he pulled out his cloak and selected a corner opposite the window seat to mark out a sleeping area for himself. “When you successfully help them, they’re always so thankful and cheery afterwards. So much positive amor in the air…it’s like a continuous free meal for me!” Spike chuckled at the changeling’s glee. “Well, I wouldn’t go telling the customers that,” he said, who could only imagine how they’d react if they knew the dark grey stallion with the light blue mane giving them their change was actually a changeling. “But you’re right. It really hasn’t been too bad, and it’s great to be able to be doing something…productive for a change again. Actually, the work reminds a little of…” he thought back to the days when he’d help Twilight organize books in her library, work not dissimilar to what he was doing here, and was surprised at how much he missed it. “…better times.” He shook his head, pushing the thought from his mind. “Anyway, here’s to us making our own better times now.” “Hear, hear!” Thorax agreed with a grin, raising one of his holed hooves in a mock toast then, chuckling, the two resumed getting settled into their new living quarters. One of the first things Spike did after that was to make use of the room’s attached bathroom to take what felt like a far overdue hot bath. Finding some soap in a cupboard under the bathroom sink, either provided as a courtesy by Fly Leaf or left behind by whoever had been the room’s previous occupant but whichever it was Spike wasn’t questioning it, the dragon made use of it to give himself a good cleaning. He was relieved to find that he didn’t appear to be anywhere near as dirty has he had feared he had gotten during his time as an outcast thus far, but nonetheless the scrubbing felt rejuvenating and he knew he had probably needed it either way. He had frequently worried while working today if he was getting…malodorous…and just couldn’t tell, being adjusted to it. As such, when he completed the bath, he urged Thorax to take one as well, because although the changeling seemed fine, he figured it would be better to play it safe. Curiously though, Thorax didn’t seem particularly eager to take a bath and at first attempted to shirk it. He finally relented when Spike persisted and listed the reasons why, but the changeling insisted he do so in complete and total privacy. Spike was more than happy to comply—it was a bath after all—but found Thorax was serious about it; once the changeling had started to bathe, he wouldn’t let Spike open the door even just a crack for any reason, even when Spike just wanted at the bathroom sink for a quick moment to wet a rag to wipe down some of the shelves in the room that he found had gathered dust. Even when Spike suggested Thorax draw the shower curtain that surrounded the clawfoot bathtub to hide behind, the changeling would not be swayed. No one was allowed to enter until the changeling had both finished bathing and had taken the time to properly dry off at the very least. Assuming it was some changeling habit that was behind this behavior, Spike decided not to fight the matter and, donning his outfit and disguise again (save for the fedora, which he decided earlier in the day was silly to wear indoors), wandered downstairs in search of another sink to wet his rag with. He had learned by this point that the building contained three bathrooms after all, one on each of its three floors. There was the private bathroom attached to Thorax and Spike’s room on the third floor, then another on the second floor that was cleverly split so that the toilet and sink was free for public use by customers while keeping the bathtub it contained barred off for private use, presumably by Fly Leaf after hours. A third smaller one was on the first floor far in the back near the entrance that led to the building’s back ally porch, but it only contained a toilet and sink with no bathtub. Spike only needed a sink though, and proceeded to the second floor’s sink to use. Unfortunately, when he went to use it, the knob came off in his claws without turning on the water. Surprised and annoyed by this turn of events, he went down another floor with the knob still in his claws to find Fly Leaf, so to alert her of the problem. He sought her through the double batwing doors that separated the shop’s front room from the back where Fly Leaf’s private living part of the building was, leading straight into a small and aging, but tidy, kitchen with white-washed walls. Here he found Fly Leaf working on a simple dinner, and promptly showed her the sink knob that had come off in his claws. Fly Leaf didn’t need much explanation to know what happened. “Again?” she bemoaned as she took the knob from Spike. “That’s the third time this past moon! I thought for sure I had it fixed so it wouldn’t do that again!” “Maybe you should send for a plumber,” Spike suggested as he decided, while he was here, to use the kitchen sink to wet his rag finally. “I did, after the second time it broke,” Fly Leaf bemoaned. She glared at the knob in her hoof. “Obviously, the plumber didn’t help.” Spike shrugged, wringing out the excess water from his rag. “Send for a different plumber this time then,” he suggested next. “Either that or just break down and replace the whole confounded faucet,” Fly Leaf grumbled. She shook her head and changed the subject, turning to Spike. “So why were you in the second floor bathroom anyway?” “Thornton’s taking a bath in the third floor bathroom and wouldn’t let me in long enough to wet a rag so I could clean some of the shelves in our room,” Spike explained, turning to face Fly. “Guy really likes his privacy, huh?” “Something like that, I guess.” “Well, while you’re down here, I might as well run you through how meals are going to work around here, seeing I don’t think I’ve done that yet,” Fly explained, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Like we talked before, basic meals come with the room and board part of your employment, so basically at mealtime, you’re pretty much free, within reason of course, to whatever you can find in here to eat.” She motioned vaguely to the kitchen surrounding them. “You’re free to get your own food and prepare it in here if you want too, if you decide you don’t want anything I have in here.” “We’ll keep that in mind then, Fly,” Spike said with a nod, turning to leave. “Have either of you had anything for dinner yet, by the way?” Fly asked curiously as she watched him head for the batwing doors leading out. “Because I’m happy to give you two something to munch on if not.” “Yeah, we got a bite before bringing our stuff here,” Spike explained, pausing at the doors. He figured Thorax wouldn’t be interested anyway since solid foods didn’t give him much nourishment. But then his own stomach reminded him that the berries he had eaten weren’t very filling, so he added, “…but I guess I could go for something light to nibble on, since you’re offering.” Fly grinned and tossed him a roll from a bread box she had opened next to her. “Give a shout if either of you need anything else, though,” she said. “Will do,” Spike agreed, biting into the tasty roll as he exited and went back upstairs. When Thorax finished with his bath finally and Spike satisfied with the state of the shelves now (even though they didn’t have much to put on them), they both agreed to call it a night as it was starting to get late now and Fly Leaf wanted them both up and awake, ready for work, by the same time in the morning. With Spike settled down on the window seat to use as a makeshift bed and Thorax settled down on the improvised “nest” (as Thorax called it) he had made from his cloak in the corner, the two friends bid each other goodnight and went to sleep. Spike had been deeply asleep a couple of hours when Thorax suddenly shook him awake again. “Huh?” Spike sleepily murmured, struggling to keep his eyes open as he rolled over to look at the changeling anxiously standing over him, fidgeting to himself. “…something wrong Thorax? It’s really late.” “Uh, yeah…” Thorax began, averting his gaze as if embarrassed and unsure how to explain. “It’s just…I need to, um, use the restroom.” Spike stared at him blankly for a moment, noticing Thorax’s fidgeting did look like the changeling really needed to go. “Well, you know where it is,” he said, and pointed in the general direction of the room’s adjoining bathroom, not understanding why the changeling needed to wake him up for this. “Ah, yeah, well…see, that’s the problem,” Thorax struggled to explain. He grimaced as he tried to keep himself from fidgeting and looked at Spike. “…promise not to laugh?” “Thorax, I’m literally too tired to laugh right now,” Spike assured him, propping himself up. “So what’s the problem?” “…I’ve never actually used an Equestrian toilet before now.” Spike just stared at him sleepily and blankly for a long moment. “’Kay…” he murmured slowly. “…so?” “Well, it’s just…I’m realizing now that I’m not…entirely sure how it’s supposed to…you know…work.” Spike stared at him for another moment, before closing his eyes and sighing. “Okay,” he said, getting up. “Let’s see if we can give you a quick crash course then.” Exhausted, Spike trudged for the restroom while the anxious Thorax followed him, the changeling trying not to dance in place as he continued to hold it in, but wasn’t succeeding very well. “Considering you’re a changeling and your race is constantly coming in to feed off our emotions, I would’ve thought you’d have the chance to do this before now.” “Changelings trained as hunters or ambients would,” Thorax explained as they filed into the dim restroom. “But I was trained as an invader; invaders never leave the hive until after the infiltrating changelings had all done their jobs before us and things were ready for us to come and, well, invade…like when the hive tried to invade Canterlot. And trust me, in that instance we made sure we all went before we left.” “What about after you abandoned your hive?” “Never had the chance to get close enough to an Equestrian restroom until we came here, so usually I just dug a hole somewhere outside and used that.” Thorax winced as he sat himself down on the floor and squeezed his hooves together anxiously. “Can we hurry this along, please?” “Well, I honestly don’t understand what more you need to know,” Spike grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he regarded the toilet before them. He waved his claws at it. “There’s the toilet—use it.” “Yes, but…I’m not entirely sure what the right way to use it is!” “Okay, okay,” Spike rubbed at his face sleepily for a second. “…don’t changelings have toilets in the hive?” Thorax thought about it for a second as he bounced in place. “Well…sort of…latrinae are really more just boxes with holes in the top for you to…well…” “I get it, so they’re like outhouses,” Spike said, catching on. He supposed to himself dimly that a flush toilet probably would seem mysterious to someone that had never encountered one before. “All right—same basic principle here, then.” He patted the seat of the toilet briefly. “The only real difference is that, after you’re done, you pull this to flush.” He pulled the toilet’s handle to demonstrate. Thorax jumped and scampered backwards away from it at the loud roar of water it produced, defensively lighting his horn with cyan magic briefly, before leaning closer to peer into the bowl, comprehension starting to dawn on him as he watched the bowl refill. “Oh!” he cried in understanding. “I get it, so to clear away the mess afterwards! That’s—that’s pretty clever actually…” “Yeah, yeah, genius,” Spike grumbled sarcastically before continuing on. “Then to clean up, there’s toilet paper if you need it, and of course the sink to wash your hooves at.” He motioned at both of these things in turn before turning to face the changeling. “Any other questions?” Thorax thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I think that covers it.” “Good, I’m going back to bed then,” Spike remarked and promptly turned and left the restroom, closing the door behind him so to leave the changeling at it. He then clambered back onto the window seat serving as his bed and worked at getting comfortable once more. He was just starting to drift off when the toilet flushed again and Thorax stepped out a few seconds later, looking much relieved. “All done, then?” he asked. “Yep!” Thorax responded brightly as he moved back to his sleeping area, proceeding to curl up to sleep. “See you in the morning.” “Right,” Spike said as he started to lower his head back down. He briefly stopped when he observed that Thorax had managed to get a piece of toilet paper stuck to his back hoof without his noticing, but ultimately sleep won out and Spike decided he could wait to alert the changeling in the morning when his brain was more awake.