Applejack gave a slight chuckle.
“Heh. Good one, Bloom. Nice ta know ya ain’t lost yer sense o’ humor.” The little filly she was speaking to simply stared. Applejack’s playful expression quickly fell. She looked over the little pony, and her eyes began feeling wet.
“Are you alright?” the filly asked innocently. Applejack tried to compose herself, but seeing the look of unfamiliarity on her sister’s face made it impossible.
“I… I’m sorry. I need ta go.” She turned and darted through the door as two figures entered.
“Applejack, what’s-” Spike didn’t have time to finish his question as the distraught mare ran by. He turned to Apple Bloom, who seemed just as confused as he was.
“What’s wrong with Applejack?”
“All I did was ask her name. I didn’t mean ta upset her.”
“But… don’t you know her name?” She placed a hoof on her chin, pondering.
“... I don’t think so. But, hay, what do I know? I can’t even think of my own name right now.”
“Apple Bloom?” The little filly gasped.
“Is that it? I like it. Got a nice ring to it.”
Spike turned to the doctor, utterly dumbfounded. Dr. Star walked to the side of the small pony and more closely inspected her wound. He sighed as he reached a particularly speedy diagnosis.
“Trauma from the impact has instigated a case of retrograde amnesia, not very common. Her brain is currently incapable of accessing her stored memories.”
“What can we do?”
“Not much we can do. We’ll just have to wait it out. Eventually her memories should be accessible again. Until that time, she should go about life as normal.”
“All right. When can she leave?”
“She should be set to go tomorrow at noon.” Spike over-looked the filly, non-verbally apologizing for her current predicament.
“‘Kay. I’ll go tell her family. Thanks, doc.” The doctor nodded and returned to his patient as the dragon exited the room.
Spike drudged through the small town of Ponyville, paying no attention to the many passersby giving their greetings. He entered the gate to the massive orchard run by the farming family. After a few more minutes of walking, he came to the door of the main house. Raising a claw, he sounded three relatively loud knocks through the house. A large stallion answered.
“Oh. Howdy, Spike,” Big Macintosh greeted, “Sorry, it’s not a great time right now. Bloom hasn’t come home yet and AJ’s actin’ like her voice has been stolen.” This took Spike by surprise.
“You… don’t know?”
He simply sat watching the ponies in the room, reading them. The orange mare practically shaking. The large red stallion glaring at no particular point on the floor. Primarily his attention locked onto the elderly green mare, who seemed to be entirely vacant, no emotion or sense of awareness to be seen. Spike just stared at them, waiting for some sort of reaction. When he knew none was coming, he felt it time to leave.
“Anyway, the doctor said you could pick her up tomorrow at noon. Just thought you should know.”
Spike’s words were met with silence. He stood and walked to the door, ultimately deciding that now wasn’t an entirely appropriate time to speak with them. He bid them a quiet farewell before stepping through the door to the Apple house, beginning the long trek back to the library.
“Spike! I just heard what happened. Are you alright?” His spiritual caretaker dashed toward him and began inspecting him from top to bottom, taking note of several patches of dirt and minor scratches. He would ordinarily try pushing her away, but today he appreciated the thought.
“I’m fine, Twilight,” he groaned out, “It’s Apple Bloom you should be worried about. When I pulled her out of the road, she hit her head on a large rock.” Twilight scooped the dragon into the biggest hug he had ever received.
“I know. The girls and I were about to meet up at the hospital to see her. Before I left, I wanted to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” She pulled out of the hug and gave him a quick peck on the forehead
“I am so proud of you,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head before a seriously harsh glare crossed her face, “But if you ever do something that stupid and reckless again, I’ll… I’ll… I don’t even know what I’ll do, but it will be bad! Got it?” Spike gulped and nodded. “Good!”
She gave him one more hug before walking to the door.
“And don’t stay up too late. After the day you've had, I’m sure you could do with some sleep.” He was considerably tired. So much so that he completely neglected, without immediately realizing it, to inform his friend of the filly's unusual condition.
He grunted and walked upstairs as he heard the door close. He hopped into his basket and pulled the covers over himself, though he knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight.