//------------------------------//
// Ch. 1 Oh brother... Wait, what? 
// Story: Thicker Than Water 
// by Symphony 
//------------------------------//

There was a knock on the door. It was a hard knock, not a timid "I-want-to-talk-about-a-higher-power" knock, or a rattling "It's-Nightmare-Night-gimme-candy" knock, or even the uneven thumping of a "Derpy-delivered-the-mail" knock.

Just a knock.

Spike, clad in a dragon-sized flowered apron, stood atop a non-dragon-sized step stool, and hovering purple claws above a frying pan, perked up at the noise.

"I got it!" he shouted upstairs, waddling towards the door.

Up the wooden staircase, Twilight rolled over and groaned. Hung over from the events of last night with a splitting headache and an aversion to natural light, all she wanted to do at the moment is roll over and die. Of course, there had to be a preceding checklist dictating the exact location, time and manner of which she was to roll over and die. Old habits die hard.

Whoever was at the door knocked again, louder this time, the noise resonating all the way to Twilight's room, where again she groaned loudly.

Spike went to the door, not even bothering to remove his apron; however, as he walked past once of the low-lying windows before he reached it, he noticed that something was off.

The figure in the door was too tall to be a pony, its silhouette in the morning sun reaching far past the height of the door. Spike's mind immediately jumped to conclusions, and he froze. Was it a regular pony who was horribly transfigured by a spell, hoping to come over to the library to ask for Twilight's help?

No, it was more than likely something awful, a monster straight from Tartarus who was gonna eat their souls. His memory flashed to just last week, when a small group of three venomous, ferocious manticores had burst out of the Everfree, causing the town to panic and run.

As usual.

Flicking down the locks on the door, he backed up into it, trying to think of of the best way to get to Twilight-and convince her to kill whatever was at the door- without alerting whatever was outside to his presence.

After a few more minutes of continuous knocking, it finally ceased. Spike let out a sigh of relief...

...which was cut short by something starting to incessantly tap on the window upstairs. Spike raced up the stairs, all the fears rushing back, the wood giving small creaking noises as his little dragon feet stepped over them. When he finally reached the window, he stopped running right before it. Then, careful not to be seen by the towering figure outside, he reached over to the cream-colored shades and whisked them shut, blocking all views from the world outside.

There were a few abbreviated taps on the window, then silence filled the library, save for Twilight's faint morning-after groaning from her room. Spike sighed again, hoping that whatever was outside would just go away.

There was another knock at the door. Spike gulped nervously, unconsciously brushing his claws over the still-healing scratches on his legs that had resulted from the previous assault by said manticores.

"Alright," he thought to himself, "I can probably crawl around the room until I reach-"

"Open up, Spikey-Wikey!" The voice was condescending, muffling through the door as if the speaker was talking to a small child. "I know you're in there!" Spike froze again. The thing at the door kept on pounding the large door. It had dropped the tone. "I just wanna talk!"

"Ah... "Spike no here" he said in his best Hayspanic accent, clinging to the side of the door. "He go away for a very long time!"

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, a purple aura had enveloped the lock, unlocked it, and flung the door open, propelling Spike into the middle of the room with the impact. The door swung around and crashed into the adjacent bookshelf, knocking more than a few old tomes onto the floor. Groaning, Spike picked himself up, dusted himself off, and looked to the stairs.

It seemed that Twilight was possessed or something as she leaned on the wall, her mane a mess, a ghastly death rattle coming from her pounding head as she began to stumble upstairs.

"I've just 'bout had it with that darn knocking sound, Spike." Twilight paused her rebuking to retch a bit. "There's a very tired n'mber-one student up 'ere, and all she wants t'do is have some peace 'n quiet around here." She winced, blinking her eyes painfully at the morning light that streamed in from the windows. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have t'write a letter t'the princesses on how alcohol is not mand'tory f'r an 'fective friendsh'p 'sperience." And with that bit of slurred knowledge, Twilight dragged herself upstairs.

"Yeesh. You live with her?" His attention torn from the hungover unicorn, Spike's full attention flashed back to the situation at hand.

There, in his house, stood Garble.

He hadn't changed since Spike had last seen him, when he had been chased by Garble through a forest with Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity, clutching a phoenix egg that was supposed to be the loot of a raid.

He was a little bit taller, though, but the same red scales, wings, and the mischievous look in his eye.

Panicking for what seemed like the dozenth time today, Spike clenched his teeth and his eyes anxiously darted from side to side, searching for the best escape route.

"Whoa there, buddy." Garble held up his claws and unclenched them in mock defeat. "I'm not after ya for the egg raid, I just wanna..." his voice trailed off for a moment, "talk."

Spike nodded slowly. If I scream loud enough, he thought, still continuing his slow nod, I can probably get the whole town on this little punk before he fries me like a dragon McNugget.

"Okay, then." Garble twisted his neck and stretched his wings to their full crimson extent. "Jeez," he grunted, "That flight from the mountain took forever." He flashed a glance at Spike's bare back and frilly apron. He let out a muffled snicker. "I see the namby-pamby ponies are still keepin' ya grounded."

Spike began to feel indignation and guilt rise up inside, the same feelings he experienced during the failed egg raid that had set him apart from the other dragons.

"Those 'namby-pamby' ponies stood up to you, if I remember correctly."

Garble frowned. "Uh, no. In fact, if I remember right, the fight ended with you guys running away."

Spike waved it off with a flick from his claw. "Just tell me what you're here for before I get Twilight to come down and zap you."

Garble sighed and rubbed his eyes letting his gaze sink to the floor. "Damn. This wasn't how I wanted it to go." He looked around awkwardly, surveying the library, never meeting Spike's eyes. "Spike, do ya really wanna know why I came here?" The purple dragon crossed his stubby arms and tapped his foot impatiently. "Yeah, I guess you do." He took a deep breath.

"Spike...I'm your brother."


********************


Twilight had just made her way upstairs, wanting nothing more than to ooze into her bed and sleep off the nasty hangover. She clutched both sides of head and swore for what seemed like the millionth time to never to go drinking with Applejack and Rainbow Dash again.

She needed a coltfriend.

She groaned again as that painful revelation barged its way to the front of her attention, making her wince both mentally and physically. A coltfriend would be nice. Someone who she didn't have to do shots with, someone who wouldn't make her drink so much, someone whose company would be nice even without alcohol.

Of course, she had her friends, but that wasn't enough. Half stumbling, half walking to her bed, with the strength of a thousand Ursa Majors, she managed to hoist herself into her linen sanctuary. She sighed in relief as she closed her eyes, the pain beginning to recede from her pounding skull.

I wonder who was at the door earli-

"TTWWIILIIGGHHT!!" Spike's yell tore through her blissful silence and pierced her eardrums, bringing the headache back in full force.

She growled, pulled herself out of bed, and hobbled downstairs, reminding herself to never let Spike answer the door again.

********************

The dragon on question was perched at the top of the stairs, not only waiting for his hungover adoptive mother to come down, but also risking hurried glances at Garble, who stood in the middle of the library, twiddling his thumbs and peering at the spines of the old books that lined the walls, unimpressed with everything the library had to offer.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Twilight emerged from her room; however, she didn't look too pleased. Her eyes, already shut as far as they could from the aversion to light, were twitching dangerously, and a few more stray hairs had popped out from her mane.

"Uh, Twilight?" Spike held up his hands defensively. "Just remember that I saved Equestria from certain destruction last year."

"Nice try, but no cigar." Twilight growled. Spike gulped. "You already used that excuse to get out  of doing the dishes last week." She turned to squint at Garble, who squinted back at her. "Hey, isn't that the dragon that...?"

"Yeah, and he's my brother!" Spike cried, coming up to Twilight and tugging at one of her legs. "Please, make him leave, Twilight." She squinted harder at the red dragon. The realization suddenly dawned on Spike. This was the same look that she had given Dicsord, that she had given Trixie, right before she-

"If he really is your brother,we can probably reform him." Twilight muttered, turning her gaze from Garble to the books on the walls.

"Twi, no! Just send him home or something." Spike was almost begging at this point, ignoring the annoyed glares that Garble was giving him.

"I'm right here, dude." Twilight, however, was unfazed.

"If he really is related to you, we can't just turn him away." she explained, working through her hangover to convey this to the little dragon. "Besides, we don't even know yet. Celestia said she picked you up as an egg. Even she doesn't know if you're related to him."

"Can't you do anything?"

"No. I'm tired and hungover, and I want to sleep. Now, Spike, get me Modern Genetics and Other Things We Probably Shouldn't Know About." Spike did as he was told, not wanting to make Twilight angry. He rushed down the stairs, and, without even looking at his supposed brother, pried the book out of the bookcase. He gingerly gave it to Twilight, who then used her magic (with a large wince) and began skimming through the pages.

"Spike, stand there," she ordered, pointing next to Garble without losing pace in her reading or even looking up. "There's probably a spell for this. Let's just get this over with so I can go back to sleep. Aha." she stopped at a certain page, and her squint intensified again as she tried to read the instructions of the spell.

She took a deep breath, and her horn began to glow magenta, connecting with the leylines that surrounded everything. Her eyes began to glow a brightly, and a wind began to pick up in the library, sending loose papers and other debris sailing around the room.

Suddenly, her magic enveloped the two dragons standing in front of her. Spike yelped as he felt one of his scales get ripped from his back, and another grunt of surprised pain from Garble told him that Twilight had done the same to him. As quickly as it had began, Twilight stopped the spell, leaving two slightly annoyed dragons, minus one scale each.

"Hey, what gives?" Garble grumbled, rubbing the spot where the scale was removed. "I'll bet you didn't have to do that." Twilight shot him a bemused look.

"Dragon scales are immune to most magics, so I had to use a certain spell to penetrate your skins." She wobbled a bit, then steadied herself. "I'll test these later to try to find a biological draco-nucleic acid relationship, but for now..." she wobbled again, "I think I'm just g'nna go upstairs." The color faded from her face as she turned to Spike. "Since he's even here, why don't you show him around or something? I'm sure he'll enjoy it."

With that, she briskly turned around and shot towards her own room as fast as her alcohol legs could go, and the sound of retching followed soon after.

Garble motioned to the door. "Well, aren't ya gonna show me around?" Spike stormed to the door and opened it letting the morning sunshine of Ponyville stream into the room.

"Let's just get this over with." Garble was just about to walk through the door when he paused and turned to Spike.

"So about that pony..."

"Twilight? Yeah, she's not usually like this." Spike looked down in embarrassment.

"Oh, okay. So, is she your sister or something?"

"No, she's like my mom."

Garble shot Spike a quick smirk. "I was gonna say, she's pretty cute. Even for a pony." Spike made to punch Garble in the leg, but he was already out the door, a snicker drifting over the threshold.


********************


By the time Spike caught up with Garble, the older dragon had already gotten pretty far, whistling a little ditty to himself as he waited for his younger, smaller-legged counterpart to catch up. Garble, glancing at the panting Spike, picked at his claws a bit, then started walking again. As Spike eventually caught his breath, he began to point out the landmarks of Ponyville.

"There's the Town Hall, where the Mayor makes her speeches, over there's the Apple farm, and-oh! There's Sugarcube Corner!" Garble perked up a bit.

"Sounds good t'me. How about some grub, chub?" Spike looked down at his slightly protruding belly.

"Hey! Twilight said this was just baby fat!" Garble leaned down and patted his shoulder, feigning sympathy.

"Keep telling yourself that, Spike, especially in fifty years." He began to saunter towards the bakery, singing something about food.

"I hope Twilight gets done soon," Spike growled to no one in particular, "I don't know how much more I can take of his insults." He angrily followed Garble as the teenaged dragon hungrily strode towards Sugarcube Corner.


********************


Garble took the final bite of the last cookie and leaned back, swishing his tongue over the last delectable crumbs of the entire plate of cookies he had just finished.

"Solid grub," he mumbled lazily, sticking a crimson claw into his teeth to dislodge some of the bits and pieces left behind, "solid."

Spike, on the other hand, was still finishing his first muffin; the voracity and metabolism of the much older dragon somewhat intimidated him. Nibbling the edges of the pastry, he realized that he hadn't said anything to his supposed "brother" since they had entered the store. Of course, he had talked to a very surprised-looking Mr. Cake, but after convincing him that Garble wasn't here to eat the souls of his children, he had otherwise been silent.

"So..." Spike ventured, brushing the rest of his food to the side of the table, "How did you even find out that I was your...brother?" Garble cracked open one eyelid and leaned forward in the already too-small chair, its shivering legs about to give out from his sizable weight."

"Simple. I talked to Mom." Spike's interest immediately skyrocketed, and he too leaned forward in his seat.

"What? You talked to Mom?" He really was excited; he had never met his parents. All he know, or at least was Celestia told him, is that he was found on the side of a mountain, was brought to the Canterlot Castle, and then was born. Not much of a genealogy to work off of, but he coped with it. But now, he could find out.

"Well..." The only eye Garble had open squinted a little. "Not exactly."

"'Not exactly?' How does that even work?"

Garble shrugged. "She just sent me a letter."

"One little letter told you that we're related?" Spike had stood up in his chair, his increasing amounts of frustration about to blow up on his apathetic companion. "There are actually so many ways that that could be wrong!"

"Well, I guess we're just gonna wait until your wasted pony roommate figures it out, won't we?"

"I just don't understand. How did you not know this earlier?"

"Spike, do you even know how dragons communicate?" When Spike didn't answer, Garble pressed onward, tapping his fist on the crumb-strewn table to punctuate each word.

"We write things on rocks, Spike. When I got the message, it was thrown at my head." His tone was becoming more dangerous with every retort the little dragon had shot back, and the tapping grew in intensity. "And when I woke up from that unexpected brain trauma, all I knew was that I had a possible concussion, and that there was something from someone who titled herself 'Mom'. Happy?"

These words had a disheartening effect on Spike. His purple shoulders sagged, and he stooped off his chair and begin to walk towards the door. Garble, struggling to escape from the confining size of the pony-fitted chair, followed suit, and soon both dragons were outside, once again earning the stares of the surprised townsfolk.

Spike walked a little bit ahead of Garble, absentmindedly kicking a stone down the dirt street.

"Hey!" the crimson dragon caught up with him, crouching down to put an arm around his shoulder. "Dude, you OK?"

"No. I'm not okay." Spike whirled to face Garble, throwing out his tiny arms to shake off Garble's arm. "Why are you even here?"

"I told ya. I'm your brother."

"That's actually up for debate, really." Spike turned around and began walking again, going back to kicking his stone.

"Spike, wait!" Garble had to run again to catch up to him, and he anxiously looked around before starting. "You wanna know the real reason I'm here?"

"Please."

"Spike, I'm here because-"

At that point, everything erupted into streamers and confetti.


********************


By the time the smoke and dust cleared, both dragons lay spread-eagled, roughly five feet away from their original positions. Both were covered in a fine layer of dust and party accessories, and a few balloons were tied to Garble's tail, placidly bouncing in place as the two regained consciousness. Spike groaned and sat up, rubbing his head.

"Wha...what happened?"

"Ugh..." Garble rolled over and clutched at his eyes. "Instant...party...double...concussions...ow.

Before anything else could happen, a pink blur sped into the middle of the blast radius.

"Hiiiiii!!" It said, bouncing up and down excitedly. "My name's Pinkie Pie, and I couldn't help notice that you were new in town! So I had to give you a party! A big party for a big dragon like yourself! Hey, really big dragon, what's your name? My name's Pinkie Pie. Whoopsie, did I already say that?" she giggled. "I'm so funny!"

Garble couldn't really comprehend this sudden influx of happiness and color (no one can, really), so he was still groggy and confused.

"Muh name's...Garble." Pinkie Pie leaped up higher at his response, as if his pain and confusion were causing him joy. "Sorry if I may have overdid it on your Welcome-To-Ponyville-Surprise-Cannon," she giggled, "It's just I was so excited to have a dragon here! We don't really get dragons, except for Spike, but everyone knows and loves him! Well, except that time where he-"

"Pinkie!" Spike cut her off. She stopped talking, but continued bouncing. "I'm just helping Garble get settled in." He shot him a small glare. "He's only gonna be here for a few more days, anyway."

Pinkie's motormouth revved again. "So it's a special occasion? Wowie-Zow! We need a party for this! I was already planning one for him coming to Ponyville, but now it needs to be extra special because he's leaving soon! I'll go get it started on the "Welcome-To-Ponyville-Big-Scary-Dragon-Don't-Eat-Us-Party" right away. Her chronic grin vanished as she put on a mock scowl. "Remember, 7:30 at Sugarcube Corner! Don't be late!"

And with that, she vanished, leaving the circle of confetti to pick itself up.

"What happened?" Garble asked, finally managing to stand up and brush the confetti off himself. "Did we die?"

Spike also completed the daunting task of getting up after full frontal party-assault. "Just Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie."

There was a silence.

"So, what were you saying earlier? About why you came here?"

Garble, still a little unsteady on his feet, waved a shaky claw at him. "Ya know what? Can you, like, wait until after the party to ask me that?"

"Why can't you answer now."

"Look at me. D'ya think I'm in any condition to answer anything?"

Spike looked over Garble's body, and saw that he was right. His once-sheen scales were covered with a layer of dust and accessories, there were small, miniscule cuts on his arms where the rocks in the road had scratched them when he was sent flying from the impact of the cannon, and the both the bags beneath his eyes and his exhausted posture reminded Spike that Garble hadn't slept for several days.

"Fine," he compromised. "After the party. But after that, I want answers."

"Fair enough." Garble agreed, wincing slightly. "Let's just go back to your treehouse."

"It's actually a library."

"Whatever, I just need a place to crash."


******************


They almost made it back without a single incident.

Almost.

Through the marketplace was the quickest route back to the treehouse library, and after the exhausting afternoon, both dragons just wanted to get back. Garble even still had confetti stuck to his scales.

Of course, the townsfolk were staring. There was still the familiar murmuring that hung over the market on any day of the week, but now it seemed unnaturally subdued and all eyes were glued to the two dragons as they walked home. Spike, the more familiar of the two, had an awkward smile on his face as he tried to wave off a 100% increase of dragons as something casual. He even waved hello to some of the more friendly ponies in town as he walked past the vendor's wooden stalls.

"Hi, Roseluck," he greeted a particular mare, working behind a simple stall adorned with cartoony pictures of flowers. The mare in question sat behind two neatly-arranged dozens of petunias, her mouth agape as she watched the two stroll past.

"Uhh, Spike?" Roseluck motioned over to the miniscule dragon. He waddled over, marking the beginning of another period of babble for the rest of the townsfolk. Garble was left in the street, tapping his foot impatiently while waiting for Spike to finish his talk. "Is having another dragon around...you know...safe?" She hugged her flowers in fear.

"Oh, Garble?" Spike pointed to the larger red dragon, trying to put on a friendly smile, "Nah, he won't do anything! He's actually a really cool guy!" The dragon beamed "We haven't broken anything for nearly thirty minutes!"

"Oh..." squeaked Roseluck, hugging her flowers closer to herself as she imagined the potential property damage the older dragon could cause. "Y-you know what? I t-think I'm just gonna close early today." Sweat was visibly pouring off her face as she said this, yet the smaller dragon was oblivious. After a friendly wave good-bye, he took off walking again, with Garble following him. The red dragon turned around to look Roseluck straight in the eyes. He held this gaze for a few seconds, then let out a burst of flame through his sharp teeth.

She couldn't close shop fast enough. (Witnesses would claim that it was a town record, yet these claims have yet to be verified.)

As Spike and Garble walked stall after stall filled with confused, terrified, and nervous ponies, Garble continued to smile menacingly and blow flames out his mouth. The vendors proceeded to grow even more confused, terrified, and nervous, and quite a few of them unexpectedly decided to follow Roseluck's lead and close shop.

The dragons passed one particular cart that looked like someone had it it with a house-sized hammer. Splinters were poking out of every cut of wood, the wheels were shattered in half, and the whole thing had been crushed to the point where it was almost as tall as Spike.

"Whoa," Garble said, experimentally poking the mess with a claw, "What happened here?"

"Manticores." Spike was very curt with his response. "Tore up a good part of the town and scared the living daylights out of people." He turned to look up at Garble, a stern look crossing his face. "That reminds me. Don't mess around with the ponies here. You're the first large dragon they've seen, and the words terrified hyperventilation almost mean the same thing as "Tuesday." Just don't scare 'em too bad."

"Got it," Garble replied, a quick look behind him informing him that more than half of the merchants in the market had already closed shop for the day. "Won't scare anyone. Promise."

"Yeah, I'd hate to go through the whole manticore thing again, trust me." Spike rubbed his injuries on his leg.

"Whoa!" Garble yelped, leaning down to peer at his scars, "You got these?"

"They're on my leg, what did you expect?" Spike seemed a little taken aback by the sudden invasion of his personal space. "Why do you even care?"

Garble turned his arm towards Spike, which was clad in dozens of tiny scars on his scales.

"In dragon culture, scars are pretty sweet." He boasted, closing his eyes and holding one claw to his chest pretentiously. "So, did you get it?"

"Get what?"

"The manticore that scratched you. Did you kill it?"

Spike was taken aback by Garble's question. "No! Twilight just let Fluttershy take care of it!"

Garble laughed a little. "Wimp."

"So I'm a wimp for not killing anything? I'm sorry I don't collect cool scars like you do."

Garble didn't catch on to the sarcasm. "Ha, if you think those are cool, wait until you see the one this one dragoness gave me on my-"

"Whoa, Garble. Enough of that." He grimaced, already seeing images in his head that he wanted to unsee, "We got fillies here."

"Fillies? I don't see any fillies here." Garble said, shading his eyes with his hand and casting his view all around the empty marketplace.

"That's because you can't see us, you dolt!"

Two fillies, one obnoxiously pink and the other obnoxiously gray, swaggered into view. The pink one was adorned with a tiara on her head, while her slightly smarter-looking compatriot sported glasses.

"How did you know they were there?" Garble whispered to Spike.

"I can smell arrogance." Spike replied, narrowing his eyes.

"What do I smell like?"

"You stink."

"Cool."

"Anyway, here we go..." Spike muttered under his breath, then tried to strike up a conversation that would get them out of there the quickest.

"Hey. Spike."

"Hey DiamondTiaraheySilverSpoonniceweatherwe'rehavingtodaywowsoprettynowifyou'llexcuseuswereallyhavetogo-"

"Not so fast!" Diamond Tiara said forcefully, grabbing Spike by the tail and yanking him back before he could slip away. "We've got some questions to ask your friend!" She pushed Spike back to where Garble was standing, completely confused with his situation.

"Who are these clowns?" he asked Spike, who was in the process of brushing dirt of himself.

"Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Two of the most wealthy and annoying fillies in the world."

Garble squinted. "If I can time the kick just right," he said, sticking up a thumb to measure the wind, "I can probably kick these living accessories into the next dimension."

"Okay, that's exactly what you don't want to do."

"Why? They're probably more aerodynamic than they look."

"It's not because they're unpuntable," Spike cried, flinging his arms in the direction of the few sellers still left in the market, "It's because if you harm a filly on your first day here, they'll kick you out!"

"Hold on, don't you want me out of here anyway?"

"I do, but I'll probably also get kicked out because I'm standing next to you."

Garble sighed and pinched the space between his eyes. "Fine," he grumbled, "I'll go see what they want." He walked over to the two girls and kneeled down. "Whaddaya want?" he asked, trying to sound scary yet apathetic at the same time.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Garble shrugged. "What's it to you?"

Diamond Tiara lifted her head back smugly, her tiara for which she was named managing to stay on her head the whole time. "My father's very important here. It's my business to do his business, because he's in the business."

Garble scratched his head. "So I'm a big deal around here now? I just got here this morning."

The pink filly smiled. "You could be," she gloated, "If you're working for the right side, of course. After the attack on the town last week, my father decided I could use some...personal protection."

The scratching intensified. "So you want me.. to be your bodyguard?"

"Yep!"

"Because I'm like, the tallest living thing here?"

"Yep!"

Garble held out his arms, a look of mock sympathy crossing his face. "Look, kid. I know Ponyville's a rough place, but I'm not gonna be your bodyguard, because something tells me it's gonna turn into being your butler."

"We'd pay you in gems, and you only have to actually work twice a week."

At this, Garble perked up almost immediately. "Where do I sign!?" He asked excitedly, but before he could follow the fillies into a world of money and luxury, he felt a tug on his leg. He looked down and saw Spike, looking panicked.

"You can't go with her!" he hissed, casting frightened glances at Diamond Tiara, who anxiously waited for her new butler bodyguard to carry her home. "She'll suck the life out of you!"

"If I'm gonna stay here, I might as well get a job," he countered, "besides, she's rich!"

Diamond Tiara tittered at this little scene, and her crony did the same. "Oh, random tall dragon, you don't need to hang out with Spike anymore! Who wants to hang out with him and his loser friends anyway?"

Spike scowled, but didn't do anything. "Shove off, Diamond."

She heard this, but continued her assault anyway, a look of malice creepin' into her refined features. "Nobody wants to hang out with you anyways! You're all weird and stuff!"

"I said STOP," Spike growled, getting exponentially more frustrated with every time the rich filly piped up.

"I bet a thousand bits that your parents ditched you because even they didn't want you around!"

There was a dead silence as it sunk in to everyone around the true effect of Diamond Tiara's words. Spike was breathing heavily, on the verge of tears, and he looked about ready to grow to five hundred times his size and wreck to town again. Even Garble winced as the words slipped off the filly's tongue.

Diamond Tiara froze, completely aware that she had crossed a sacred line.

The silence was palpable.

"I SAID STOP!" Spike roared as loud as he could, and charged Diamond Tiara. Before he could beat the stuffin's outta her, he was caught in mid-charge by a crimson arm.

Garble held the furious and struggling Spike tight against his body with one arm, and pointed past the two immediately regretful fillies somewhere into the distance with the other.

"Get out of here. C'mon. Now."

"Uh...good idea, bodyguard!" Diamond Tiara stammered, nudging Silver Spoon for her to come with her. "L-let's go home!"

A mean smile began to etch itself into Garble's features. "Oh, I think you don't get it," he snarled, "I'm not your bodyguard anymore. Now, if you'll excuse me, me any my brother have better things to do than mess with the likes of you." Both fillies were terrified now, legs shaking as this scary dragon got all up in their faces.

"You'll r-regret this!" Diamond Tiara mumbled, on the verge of tears herself. "I'll make my father buy an even better dragon!"

"Yeah," Garble snorted. "Good luck with that." And with that, he let a large burst of fire from his nostrils, singing the air right above the two girls' heads. With panicked squeals they shot away from the dragons, and into the setting sun, where everyone hoped they'd never have to see them again.

Spike had calmed down by then, and now that the obnoxious fillies were gone, he let out a small chuckle. "Thanks for that," he said sheepishly, "I kinda flew off the handle there."

"Don't mention it." Garble punched Spike affectionately. "Blood's thicker than water, am I right?"

"I guess so, but I don't even know if we're related yet."

"Cool. Let's bounce." Garble started walking again towards the library, motioning for Spike to follow, "C'mon, bro. We got a party to attend."

Spike hesitated, then followed after him, traces of doubt still lingering in his mind.

Is he really my brother?