//------------------------------//
// the Waiting 
// Story: The Cryssaling 
// by storm the castle 
//------------------------------//

Ch 5 The waiting
It had been five days since Spike had begun his chryssaling, and the town had taken notice of his absence in full now, with only a select few privy to the truth, leading invariably to one thing; gossip.
For the past few hours, all of the Elements of Harmony had been bombarded with questions and theories as to the whelps disappearance, and for the local Princess’ recent terrible appearance. Some ranged from a close variation to the truth, such as that he was hitting ‘dragon puberty’ and was too dangerous to let stay in town, to the outlandish idea that Twilights dragon lover had come to take him to their ancient homeland. Each Element had devised a particular way to deal with these unwanted intruders. “IF YOU DON’T GET OUT OF MY SHOP I’LL SEW THAT DRESS TO YOUR FLANK!” some more creative than others.
For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, some-pony had entered Rarity’s store on the pretext of making a purchase, then bombarding her with unwanted inquiries about the child. It had hit a turning point when a pony with a camera had cornered Sweetie Belle and asked her when Spike’s funeral would be held. The poor filly had begun to bawl and refused to let her elder sister go until the pony had been literally beaten off with a stick, and she herself had been informed of the truth. “S-so S-Spike’s gon’ be okay?” she asked meekly between sobs, trying as hard as she could not to go into fits.
“Of course, Sweetie, he just grows up different than the rest of us.” Rarity assured her sister, giving her a tight, comforting hug for good measure.
After a moment, Sweetie Belle squirmed her way out of her sisters embrace and declared. “Good, then I’m gonna go see him! I bet that’ll make him real happy!”
Rarity saw the problem with that statement instantly, and tentatively set out to keep it from coming to a head in the wrong sort of way it always seemed to. (Prosecution would like to submit ‘CMC’ as evidence A.) “I’m sorry Sweetie, but he really needs to be alone right now.”
She cocked her head. “Why?”
Green flag, we’re in the clear. “Because dear, he’s very shy right now, and we have to respect his privacy.”
“Why?” she asked innocently again.
Yellow flag. Something’s up. “Well you see dear, he’s a boy, and we’re all girls, so we can’t go see him right now. It would be uncouth.”
“But why would that matter?”
RED FLAG! IT’S A TRAP! ‘Oh sweet Celestia, don’t let this lead to the birds and the bees.’ “Because dear, boys and girls are very different,” Rarity was sweating now, a big plastic grin covering her face, “and we need to let him have his space for the moment.”
Sweetie Bell seemed to consider this for a minute, finally coming out with “You mean like he’s got cooties, or something?”
Disaster=Averted. “Yes dear, it’s a super bad case of cooties, that not even the cootie shot will stop.” She tickled the off white filly. “So, unless you want to get his boy cooties, we need to leave him alone for a while.” After a small giggling fit, the two separated.
“Alright, I guess that makes sense.” However, she immediately raised a hoof in alarm. “Oh no, the other girls  don’t know!” she exclaimed. “Come on! We’ve gotta tell ‘em before it’s too late!” 
Not entirely sure what ‘too late’ might entail, Rarity none the less allowed herself to be led out the door to Sweet Apple Acres, only barely taking the time to flip the sign to ‘closed’ and lock the door behind her. Though, upon stepping outside, the number of hungry looks made her uncomfortable, and so she convinced Sweetie to go with her along the scenic – and relatively empty – rout.
In short order they arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, and once they had convinced Big Macintosh, who had taken to standing sentry against the town story hunters, to let them pass, they found Applejack and Apple Bloom. While Rarity explained the story she had given to Sweetie to the farm mare, Sweetie likewise explained the impending danger of boy cooties to Apple Bloom. Once all parties were caught up, they all sat down for some Iced tea Granny Smith had made. It was here that Apple Bloom remembered the missing party. “Scootaloo!” she exclaimed, startling the others at the table. “She don’t know!” she promptly hopped to her hooves and ran off, leaving the others to scramble out of their seats and apologize to Granny while rushing to catch up. Who knew such a little filly could be so fast?
After going to Scootaloo’s house (‘odd’ Rarity had commented to Applejack, ‘I can’t recall having ever been here in all the time the girls have known each other.’) They risked asking around town, more often then not getting heckled by too-curious passer-bye’s on Spikes’ status.
They eventually found the daredevil filly underneath a cloud in the park, surrounded by a group of what appeared to be three news-ponies. Rarity’s heart sank as she recognized the camera toting pony from before, this time with her own understudies. Rarity and Applejack exchanged nods, and prepared to chase the group off, only to be cut off by a furious cyan and rainbow blur.
Taking the cloud the filly had been hiding under in hoof, Rainbow Dash charged it and proceed to release static-y Tartarus upon the three hecklers. Once all three news ponies had been sent running with burn marks on top of their Cutie Marks, Rainbow nodded and snorted in satisfaction. However, with the news ponies gone, she was now out of her element, since just below her, Scootaloo was bawling her purple eyes raw.
“Scootaloo, dearie,” said Rarity, big sister mode activated in full over the orange pegasus’ weeping, “It’s going to be fine. Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She cooed over the girl, rubbing her back and trying to calm her.
Scootaloo, however, was having none of it. “No it isn’t!” she cried. “Those ponies, they asked me about Spike! Where he’d been and stuff, but then they asked when his funeral was, or if I knew how he died!” she cried even harder, and all the adults hearts threatened to break then and there. This tough little filly never cried! But those jerks had her in blubbering like a newborn! “T-They said t-that Spike was dead! Why wouldn’t any-pony tell me?! I was his friend too!!”
After resolving to see those rotten news ponies crucified, Applejack spoke up to calm the girl. “’S okay, girl, ‘s okay.” She leaned down to Scootalloos eye-level. “Spike ain’t dead, promise.”
Had it been any other pony, Scootalloo might have passed it off as an adult lying to make her feel better, but honesty was kind of AJ’s thing. She even got that nifty Element of Necklace or whatever to prove it, just like Rainbow Dash and loyalty, plus she was Apple Blooms sister, so that scored her big points. Still, it’s hard to just switch gears like that, so she felt compelled to ask, “But I haven’t seen for a while, so where is he?”
It was here that Sweetie and Bloom found their battle ground, so to speak, and interjected. “It’s Cooties!” proclaimed Sweetie Belle.
“Boy Cooties!” added Bloom, thoroughly the expert now that she had heard the story from Sweetie. “He’s got ‘em real bad-like, an’ he don’t wanna get none of us sick is all, so he’s gotta stay outta town for a bit!” she finished confidently, Sweetie Belle nodding her affirmative the whole time.
“Oh,” perked up Scootalloo, “that makes sense. Of course he’d be nice enough to stay away when he’s got cooties.” She thought for a moment. “But I woulda thought he’d have his cootie shot by now.”
Sweetie affected a dramatic tone, like a mad doctor in a cheesy movie. “Sis says his case is so bad, not even the cootie shot can stop it! It’s dragon boy cooties!” Scootalloo - and Apple Bloom who had not been informed of the severity - took on a horrified face. (From that moment on, the legendary case of Dragon Boy Cooties would live in infamy within the darkest corners of the Ponyville Elementry.) After a shared shiver, the girls had moved on, and began talking about their days.
Rainbow raised an eyebrow at her friends. “Dragon Cooties?”
Rarity snorted. “It’s that , or the dragon version of the birds and the bees. Pick one.” Rainbow decided she could live with cooties for an explanation.
An audible gasp from the girls drew their attention. “You seen her too?” asked Scootaloo.
Sweetie Belle nodded “Yep. That mean news lady said that kind of stuff to me too. Scared me real bad till my sister explained ‘bout the cooties.”
“Wow, so it’s been rough for all of us huh?” all the girls nodded somberly. “Jeez, if their picking on us this bad, I can’t imagine how bad it is for miss Twilight.” The three Elements who were present stiffened. They hadn’t even thought of that!
Apple Bloom spoke up here. “Hey, Spike does all the cookin’ n’ chores n’ stuff right?” nods, even from the beleaguered adults. “So let’s bring her some food, n’ offer ta clean up a bit too! That oughta make ‘er feel loads better!” 
“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER HELPERS,YAY!!”  That final chorus signaled the finality of the decision, leaving the adults to try and keep up.
After successfully buying a few pies from Sugar Cube Corner, as well picking up Pinkie and Fluttershy, who had taken shelter with the party pony, they all ventured to the Library to cheer her up and protect Twilight. It took a bit of coaxing to convince the Royal Guard, a resident member who taken it upon himself to protect the Princess (how did they keep forgetting that, seriously?!) they made it inside. Making sure the Mirror wasn’t active when the girls got inside, they all greeted their friend, who they found crying in the bathroom after a certain persistent photographer had asked if Spike’s body would be donated to science. (seriously, Big Ticket was gonna get it when all was said and done.)
The library had indeed needed some cleaning without spike around, and after a brief frenzy of cleaning, they all sat down and ate the pies.
Somewhere around the time the Cutie Mark Crusaders tried to get the Royal Guard to eat a piece of pie they had saved just for him (Yes, he eventually ate it. Those three puppy dog eyes could get Discord to attend a straight line party), Twilight found herself happier than she had been since the whole ordeal had started. ‘I’ll see you soon, Spike, and all our friends will be waiting with me too.’ She thought contentedly.
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Spike was finally ready for the last phase of the chryssaling. He sat before her, heaving for air and barren of the flame that made his race so feared, instead producing only the barest puff of smoke. He continued to glare at her, the draconic glow in his eyes dulled significantly but no less visible, and it was obvious he still believed himself ready to fight.
“Tis’ time young Spike.” She said to the hissing form. “Art thou ready to see this thing done? Ready to see thine friends again?” He hissed at her some more, puffing smoke in a feeble attempt to set her on fire. “We shall take that as a ‘yes.’”