“Oh, Rarity..." Spike looked down at his claws, tears welling up in his dragonfire eyes. "Why can’t you see what you’re doing to Equestria? I have to believe that love can save you. I have to." The teardrops dropped to the ground, sparkling in the last shaft of sunlight. He had to hope, but sometimes... it just looked bleak.
— Of Ponies and Peril, Chapter 5
Spike huddled near the fire, trying to save as much warmth as he could. His spear remained close, ready to grab at a moment’s notice. Nights were cold on the road, when you had to find what shelter you could in the wreckage around you. Sleep was often uncomfortable but Spike had gotten used to it. It was getting to sleep that remained difficult.
He couldn’t stop thinking. Memories and thoughts repeated themselves in his mind, unfinished plans and things that could never be. Rarity remained a constant feature, how she used to be and how different she was now.
Spike still held on to the hope that she would go back to being the old her. He knew things would never be the same, but maybe they could get better. He had to believe it could get better especially when everything around him grew worse.
There were moments when he looked at what Rarity had wrought to Equestria, and something burned inside him. Spike didn’t want to say it was hate, so he called it righteousness. He just wanted to see the world better. More beautiful, the way Rarity once told him she wanted to do and dedicated her whole life to doing.
She wasn’t doing it now, Spike thought, and curled closer to the fire.
If she could only see what she was doing, if he could just show her—show her how she made the world ugly then Spike was sure she would change.
And if she didn’t? If Rarity could turn a blind eye to that?
Then she wouldn’t be the Rarity he knew.
Spike shivered but it wasn’t because of the cold. He didn’t want to think about it, but he’d have to do what he could to stop her. It’s what she would have wanted.