HAPPY ENDING
The daylight looked so peaceful, filtering through the closed blinds. Spike rubbed his neck, a nervous tick he had developed over a few years of embarrassing accidents. Though he was nearing twenty years of age, he was still very small compared to the ponies around him and his feet swung child-like under the waiting room chair. Applebloom sat next to him, her warmth a comforting presence next to him. He fought the urge to lean into her, to breathe her scent, to relish the life that was his filly-no, his mare.
“Mister . . . er, Spike?” The nurse pony looked up from her clipboard, scanning the room. At his name, he nearly leapt into the air.
“Coming, coming!” The nurse blinked as the young dragon ran over to her. That was unusual but it wasn't her business. Next of kin was the pony's choice, she supposed.
“This way, please.” She nodded curtly and turned on her heel. The patter of feet told her that the dragon was following and closely. He seemed used to running after the longer-legged ponies. Still, she slowed a tad. No reason to be mean to the poor dear, after what he had probably gone through.
Spike had always hated hospitals. The sterile smell of cleaner and the white, blank walls and floor . . . for some reason, it always set him ill at ease. Maybe it was because he knew death walked these halls. Now, however, he barely paid it any heed.
“Room 217, Mister Spike. We'll leave you to it.” He thanked the nurse and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the room beyond.
The blinds were drawn, shutting out even the hint of Celestia's sun. In the dim light that peeked through the gloom, Spike could see the mountain of flowers, cards and other get-well wishes that ponies were liable to heap on one another whenever they got ill or injured. And there, on a bed in the middle of the room, a slumped a familiar mound.
“Hey Twi.” The mound twitched, trying to make herself smaller. Spike winced. “I, ah, I don't know what to say, really. You've not let anyone in here since, ah, since that night. I, ah . . .”
“Go away.” Twilight's soft voice cut through the darkened room as easily as it cut through Spike's heart.
“No Twi. You've pushed everyone away, barred the door to your friends. Princess Celestia herself came down to see you, you know. You didn't even turn your head when she came in the room. Twi, she cried. The Princess cried.”
The mound didn't respond. Spike sighed. He wanted to shake her, to slap her and yell and, and, and just scream. But he didn't He didn't because he knew why they were really here. He knew whose fault it really was.
“I'm sorry.” Twilight's ears perked up but she made no other movement. “I'm sorry for, for everything Twi. I'm so-sorry for running out, I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry Twi. I just want you back.” Spike slumped to the floor, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up. His eyes were filled with tears, his voice caught in his throat.
“Twi, what I said was a lie. It was all a lie. You're, you're my family. You're all I have apart from Applebloom. You're my big sister, you're my friend, you're my . . . you're my mom. Twilight, I can't lose you. Please, please come back. Please, please, please . . .” He kept repeating himself, thumping the floor with his small fists. The tears flowed freely now. Eventually his voice broke and his small frame was wracked with sobs.
Somepony gathered him and hugged him, held him. She was crying too.
“Spike, I thought you hated me.” Twilight forced her voice to come, through the ache in her throat. “I thought you didn't want me around anymore. I, I've never really been alone since I hatched you. I was so afraid, Spike, of loosing you. Of seeing my little dragon push me away. I wanted so much to have you there, to have you back but I thought you were gone forever. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
They held each other for a long while, their sobs blending together. It hurt. It hurt worse than broken bones, worse than being caught in a lie. It hurt but there was joy in it too. No matter what, they were family.