Spike Hates Himself

by Soaring


Celestia Should Throw A Flaming Ball Of Fire At My Skull

The past month had been horrible for Spike. He had finally asked the crush of his dreams out on a date, and well… it’s not that she rejected him.

She… thought it was just two friends going out. It bothered him so much that he couped himself up in his room in that little basket of his, and cried.

It was a good cry, but one that made him realize something.

“I hate myself.”

Without Twilight’s intervention, Spike’s hatred only festered within him. It grew to the point of no return. He now could only stagger down the halls of the castle to get some more food in him. After all, if he was so willing to prolong his own internal strife, he might as well become gluttonous, to the point that his arteries would suddenly explode, leading him to blee—

Spike shook his head. That wasn’t the way to go. But he did love a bit of ice cream on his pancake. He had already made the small flapjack, which radiated heat that made his own core grow. All he needed was a dollop of vanilla ice cream, and he would be set for the rest of the day. With a quick flick of his wrist, he opened a drawer, which he knew would have a scooper waiting for him to use.

Smiling for the first time in a month, he took said scooper, and scoooped a big scoop of ice cream out of its container. He plopped it on the pancake and waited for a few seconds, watching as the big dollop began to melt. It was what he wanted Celestia to do to his skull, as she would throw the fastest of flaming balls of fire at him, to the point that before it even made contact, it would burn his internal organs to the point of being—-

Spike frowned.

“I hate myself,” he said.

“You hate yourself?”

Spike’s eyes widened, and turned to the voice. It was Starlight Glimmer, his newest best friend… well, if he could call her new. She was once some evil pony who had enslaved an entire village for the sake of her own twisted sense of justice. What Starlight did with those poor ponies? Spike hadn’t honed in on that too much, probably because what she told Twilight was just a cover up for her just to parade herself around town or something. Either that or Starlight did tell the truth, and Spike was just thinking too hard.

He sighed. “I… don’t—”

“Spike, ponies don’t just say they hate themselves like that,” Starlight said as she approached the poor dragon. He flinched as he felt her hoof make contact with his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be feeling this way. Do you want to talk about it?”

The dragon stood there, frozen. The ice cream on his plate had nearly been melted, and the pancake had absorbed part of the ice cream. How it melted that fast was beyond his comprehension, yet that wasn’t what bothered him most. His best friend next to Twilight, who was his BEST friend, was asking to chat about something that he felt wasn’t too necessary to talk about. It was his fault, after all. Rarity would never see him the same way, and quite frankly, he could finally get over his little heartbreak that plagued him to the point of—

“Sure.”

—asking his best friend for advice.

Spike grabbed his plate of a singular flapjack covered in the remnants of a dollop of vanilla ice cream, and turned to watch his friend take a seat across the crystal island in the center of the kitchen. The room was built in a way that they could sit immediately down after making their own food. Twilight was a busy mare, after all, and she didn’t have time to dilly dally in moving a few steps away from the kitchen and into the living room, where an even larger table was ready for her to sit. No, she had a couple of high chairs ready for her and whoever else wanted to keep her company to sit down and chow down.

And these two just so happened to be free for Spike and Starlight to indulge in.

Starlight had sat down first. She sighed and watched as the dragon slowly trudged along, setting his plate carefully on the island first, before hopping into the seat with a spring in his legs. He got cozy in it, squirming just to make sure he was on the chair, and then scooted himself in. Checking to make sure his pancake survived the ordeal, Spike turned to see Starlight… frowning?

“Starlight, I—”

“I don’t understand why you’d feel this way, Spike.”

The words hit Spike to his core. His core began to bubble in response. “I don’t… know what you mean.”

Starlight glared at him. “Don’t give me that. You know what you said just a couple minutes ago!”

He did. He knew. He just didn’t want to come out and say it again. Not with her here.

“I know why you’re upset, Starlight. I should’ve never opened my mouth and said anything.” Spike picked up his fork and stabbed the pancake with a vengeance. “Look, let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything and we can move on from it, y’know? I wouldn’t want you worrying about me. Besides, it’s not your problem, I’m just dealing with some stuff that isn’t related to you or Twilight. I just—” He had cut a piece of the flapjack, and had scooped a bit of ice cream to boot. “—can’t let you both deal with my problems all the time. I wouldn’t learn from them!” He finished by shoving the fork down his gullet and—

Suddenly, Spike felt pain. He felt it all over his arm, especially near his claws. The fork clanked against the marble surface of the island, holding the piece of flapjack he so desired on the plate. Spike winced, and realized that he couldn’t move it.

Starlight had him red-handed, her magic holding his claw still.

“S-Starlight—”

“Stop talking, and listen to me.”

That tone of voice. It growled with venom, something he hadn’t heard for a long time. He nearly whimpered at the thought of her being this angry at him, but he kept his cool. He wouldn’t want to make her feel worse than him. She didn’t deserve it.

So he sat there, waiting patiently with his mask on.

“Spike, you can’t beat yourself up like this. It’s not healthy.” The magic that fluttered in his hand loosened slowly. He was able to feel his fingers again. “You know that Twilight and I wouldn’t judge you at all. We… care about you, Spike. So seeing you look like a zombie and saying you hate yourself is something that hurts me, because…” Spike tilted his head, as Starlight began to do something he hadn’t seen her do in a while: cry. “I thought you and I were best friends and—”

Growling, Spike broke through her magic and pulled her close. “You are my best friend, Starlight. Why would you think that you weren’t?”

She sniffled loudly in his ear. “Because best friends don’t keep secrets like this!” She nearly just blew out his ear with that shout. “You’re hurting and you need me and Twilight to help you. So instead of hiding, just… tell me what’s wrong.” She hugged him close. “I want to help you get better.”

He felt that roar in his core with a flame that tempted him to open his mouth and spit fire. However, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to her. His issues were his alone, but he didn’t mind divulging it for her, because Starlight was his best friend. And as she sobbed beside him, nuzzling into his shoulder, begging him to tell him what was wrong, Spike knew what he had to do.

He opened his mouth and—

“I want you to kill me.”

—that wasn’t what he was supposed to say!—

“What?”

It was as if a pin dropped. The ice cream had turned into a drippy white liquid on top of his now cool pancake. It was depressing to see. And those eyes that Starlight wore were even worse. It made his heart race, knowing that he had done this. That it was his fault. That he was the one who did this to her. He didn’t mean to say it! It always came out wrong! He just wanted to ask Rarity on a proper, romantic date, not on a friend’s date! He…

He let his stress out, and balled into her fur.

“Spike…”

Starlight smiled as she kept him close, her tear stricken cheeks contrasting her comforting grip on her dragon friend. He needed her most, and she was willing to be his shoulder.

“Starlight? Let me say what I was supposed to say.” He wiped his face clean of liquid pride. “Look, I… kinda messed up.”

“Kinda?”

“Shut up. I’m opening up to you and that’s what you criticize?” Spike said. He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I messed up, big time. Remember last month when I was talking to you about asking Rarity out?”

“Yeah,” Starlight breathed. “You wanted to ask her out for a dinner date.”

“Yeah… that didn’t come out of my mouth at all. I said a friend’s date.”

Starlight’s eyes bugged out of her skull. “A friend’s date? What does that mean?!”

“I know, I keep saying everything wrong and—”

Starlight put a hoof to the dragon’s mouth. “Nuh-uh uh. You are not going down that route around me, mister.” She smirked. “Now when I take this hoof off your snout, you’re going to not say anything bad about yourself while we talk about this, okay?”

Spike looked at her hoof. He… didn’t know what to do. So he stayed still, only glancing up at her eyes to see what she looked like.

That was a mistake. Her eyes were practically on fire.

Okay?” she re-emphasized through her gritted teeth.

Spike rapidly nodded his head.

“Good.” She removed her hoof. “Now, don’t blame yourself too harshly on this. I know how nervous you get, especially when you play Ogres and Oubliettes with me. You nearly curl up into a ball when you have to roll for a romance interaction.”

“To be fair, if I rolled a twenty, I would’ve scored and won the game,” Spike said as if it was a matter of fact.

Starlight facehooved. “Hearing that come out of your mouth isn’t what I needed to hear.” She let out a brief puff of air and what looked like smoke drifted out of her nostrils. Was she part dragon?— “Look, regardless of the roll, you get extremely nervous, especially when it’s about someone you care about. I mean look at what you did a little bit ago!” She put a hoof to his chest and lightly shoved it. “You would rather let yourself be in constant pain and agony, than letting us help you, because you probably would think that you’d look weak in our eyes, right?”

Spike shook his head. “Not exactly,” he began, twiddling with his claws. “It’s like twenty percent that, and eighty percent of embarrassment. I feel like I’m letting you all down since I should be more responsible and should handle my own problems. Yet… I guess… part of me just thinks—”

“—that it’s a bit too overbearing and you didn’t know who to turn to?”

Spike shook his head again. “Part of me just sees it as a phase.”

Starlight’s mouth was wide open, her jaw gently swaying in front of Spike. “A phase? What are you, this is really deep and I need to post about it?” She slammed her hoof on the table, jostling the poor pancake and the utensils. “Spike! This isn’t a phase or a funk or an advertising slot for antidepressants!”

“Anti-whatsits?”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you take this seriously and really figure out why you’re feeling this way. Is it only just Rarity rejecting you that bothers you this much?”

Spike took a deep breath, and exhaled. He was lucky he didn’t see any smoke coming out with it, that probably would’ve set off the fire alarm. “She didn’t reject me, Starlight. It’s much worse than… that.” The word made him shiver. The idea… it made his heart burn a thousand times. “I wasn’t even noticed by her. It’s like she ignored the advances that I made and saw it as more of a friendly little get-together.” He sucked in an ample amount of air, and ground his teeth together. “She just doesn’t get it! Even if I went over there right now and poured my heart out to her, she’d just see it as my childhood crush coming out again, something that she would have to deal with.” His voice lowered to a low hum, that crashed when he continued, “I’m not cut out for her, I guess.”

Spike looked up at Starlight. She looked at him, concerned. Her eyes were wet again. She sniffled too. And then, she said those words that made him remember Rarity, something that made him feel more alive when he was around her. Starlight said, “Oh, Spike…”

The moment was great.

“Mares are more complicated than they are worth sometimes.”

And then it got greater. The image of Rarity was shattered, and in came Starlight, reaching out to him with a hoof.

He smiled, genuinely, taking off his mask that he had built for himself. He wanted her to see what he was feeling.

“They are,” Spike said, chuckling. He set a claw on Starlight’s arm. “Thank you, Starlight.”

Starlight choked up a bit, trying to cover up her sobs as a cough. Luckily for Spike, he read her like a book, except one that wasn’t rated eighteen plus, because that was Twilight’s porn stash, and he accidentally read that once.

Bleach was his best friend for the next day.

Spike blinked rapidly. That was something he didn’t need to be reminded of.

“Y-You’re welcome, S-Spike!” She stuttered like a goof when she was slightly upset. Spike liked that alot about his friend. It showed that she really cared about him, and he cared about her too, to the point of wanting to hurt himself, to kill himself.

To kill himself.

“So… about the killing myself bit,” Spike began.

Starlight perked up at this, tilting her head. “Yeah? Why did you say that?”

“I really do want to die. I really do hate myself. I hate that I’m like this, y’know? Pinning for a mare like Rarity so much that she still, after years of trying to get her to notice me, sees me as just a friend?” Spike felt his heart racing again. “It’s like… I need to move on, but I don’t know how. Instead of dying, what do you think I should do?”

Starlight tapped a hoof to her snout once again. “That’s… an odd question to ask, even though it’s the right one.” She let out a brief blow. “Maybe you should talk to your other friends and see what they say?”

“Starlight, that’s a terrible idea.”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who asked.” She twirled in her chair. It was one of those chairs. “Besides, you know it could really get these feelings off your chest. This whole killing yourself thing? Although horrible and you better not bucking do it you… you…” She took a deep breath to collect herself, before she sighed. “But this could really get your friends to rally up to your cause, the one that will better yourself and get past what you’re feeling, right?”

Spike’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought of this like that. It was… nice, to feel that he had a goal in mind and that, maybe, just maybe, with a little bit of a friendship cocktail, he could feel whole again.

That… excited him. Nervous-excited, but excited nonetheless.

“Yeah!” Spike said, smiling all the while. “Starlight, have you ever thought of being a counselor?”

Starlight smiled, and ruffled his spikes with her hoof. “Yeah, and I also thought about being an evil dictator of a village in the middle of nowhere. I only acted on one of those, though, the wrong one.” She nuzzled his cheek. “I’m glad you’re feeling a little better already, Spike. If you need to tell or ask me anything else, I’ll be here for you. Always.”

“I’m glad, because Twilight is not around enough for me to speak to her nowadays,” Spike said, his eyes downcast. He felt his heart fall over that. It sucked to not see her around, but she’s a Princess, a professor, an Element of Harmony, an alicorn… Spike couldn’t believe that she was all this now. He remembered her as just a little unicorn. Wow, time flew.

He picked up the fork again and took the piece of pancake into his mouth.

It was cold as ice.

“Darn it, my pancake is cold!”

Starlight smirked. “Here, let me help you with that.” She levitated his plate of frosty goodness into the air, and closed her eyes. Suddenly the magic blossomed into a white light. It nearly blinded Spike, but he was totally down with whatever magic mojo she was doing. Then, the light faded, and his plate came back down to—

“Starlight, did you just heat up my pancake again?”

“Yep!” She rubbed her horn with her hoof and smirked. “Got this baby working on overdrive now since I have Twilight’s spellbook on The Mundane and Trivial! Got an instant heat-er-up spell! Pretty cool, huh?!”

Spike chuckled at his friend’s antics. “Yeah, it’s cool.” He paused, taking the plate in his claws. “You know, this made me realize, I don’t need Celestia to throw a flaming ball of fire at my skull now.”

“Wait, what?”

Spike gulped. “Uhhh, I hate myself?”

Spike hated himself for saying that.