~17~
"Bed Hair."
Upon the closing of the door, hoof steps came from the stairs.
Spike inhaled and exhaled, then looked at the mare with the perfect bed-hair. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Mmmhmm, I should have been up by now anyways.” She opened her mouth wide, as a giant yawn escaped. Spike couldn’t help but chuckle, which resulted in Fluttershy scrambling to put a hoof against her lips.
A small smile washed up on Spike’s face, though his head grew tired from staying up. It dropped, and Spike sighed.
“Was there someone at the door, Spike?”
Spike took a seat on the couch, nodding his head. “Yeah, just a visitor for me.”
“Was it… an unkind visitor?”
Spike’s head bounced up, before falling once more. “N-No. Just, someone who's interested. in me as a dragon.”
“Oh!” Fluttershy’s ears perked up as she raced down the stairs. “That’s good to hear. What did they want to know about you?”
“Nothing much. Although, he wants me to meet him at the Sugarcube Corner tomorrow; not sure if I’m going to go.”
“Oh?” Fluttershy said, stepping closer to the couch. “And why not?”
“Truth be honest… I’m not sure myself. I mean, the pony looked impressive, but something didn’t feel, right, about him.”
Fluttershy stopped at the foot of the couch, taking a seat as she looked away. “Well… hmm.” The words weren’t coming to her, the ones that clear doubt and help a friend move forward. There’s never really been an interest in Spike – always being that little tag-along buddy. Sure, sometimes he did some important things, and he did have his moments.
But Spike was kind of of a blank-slate.
“Sp-Spike, you should always trust your instincts,” Fluttershy said, as she gained the courage to look at him. “But I think you should give this pony a small little chance.”
Spike covered his right eye with a claw, leaning his face into it. “I know I should; it’s just, I’m not the most social of creatures.”
“Spike,” Fluttershy called, standing up and looking him dead on, “that sounds like more of an excuse than an actual condition.”
Spike groaned. No, Fluttershy is the one in the wrong here. “It’s not an excuse. Twilight always kept me by her side or locked up in the library. I’ve been so used to being an introvert, that I’m uncomfortable handling external stimuli.”
Fluttershy placed her chin on the hoof, while her eyes stared at the ceiling. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“I think that was one of Twilight old excuses.”
Spike exploded back into the couch, the explosion ripping his claw away from his face. His entire body was full open to assaults, and Fluttershy was preparing herself a nuke to launch.
“You want to go, I know you do, Spike,” Fluttershy went on, her mane swaying with her head. “But what is holding you back? You’re a fantastic dragon, and I think you know that as well. But something is holding you back from the dragon you want to be.”
Fluttershy breathed. “What is holding you back, Spike?”
“The same thing I’m trying to find,” Spike said, with eyes about to close on their own. “Something is missing in me. Or maybe, there’s something I need to learn. I don’t know what it is.”
“So what about now?” Fluttershy asked. “What’s wrong with the dragon you are now?”
“He isn’t good enough.” Spike looked away from the mare. A wetness started to come from his eyes, so he closed them.
Spike isn’t allowed to show anyone else his weakness. Only his happiness and sadness may come through, but never his weakness.
A hoof graced itself onto his cheek and pushed his head back in the direction of Fluttershy. “Open your eyes, Spike.”
Spike groaned.
“Spike, open, your. Eyes.”
He did so. Even just barely. The hoof rose up, to extract the wetness next to his nose.
“And why isn’t this Spike good enough?”
“B-Because… he… doesn't. Nothing for himself, or I, ah, don’t, eh.” Spike began to breathe through his mouth. His throat ready to choke, the air assisted in helping his body clear. “Cause Spike could be better. Current Spike has nothing to show for himself; barely any friends; no trophy that he’s proud of. Sure he’s a dragon, and dragons are better physically when it comes to ponies. But to dragons, Spike is a wimp. And to ponies, Spike is just…weird.”
“So you don’t see anything in yourself as of now?”
Spike raised the air in his lungs to talk, but the air became stuck in his throat. He choked for a second, exhaled, and tried again. “Don’t get me wrong: I see some things in myself. But I don’t see anything I can proud of – I just see me.”
Silence hung around after that. There was no wind, as it didn’t want to disturb the cottage. No birds sang, for no tune could fit the scene. It was just silence, one that needed to be shattered, but was impossible to do so.
“You know you’re wrong, right?”
“I hope so,” Spike replied.
“I mean it, Spike. There’s so much you can do, Spike. There’s so much potential in you, that I think you see too. Even you chose to ignore it, Spike, I will be there to help you get better.” Fluttershy brought back her hoof and placed it on the ground.
“But, don’t think for a second, that these problems you have are nothing, Spike. Because even if you do get better one day – if you don’t pause, to just accept who you are now, then I don’t think you’ll ever be happy with yourself.”
Fluttershy made her way to the stairs and took the first step up. “And in the end. What I want most is your happiness, Spike.”
Spike blinked as Fluttershy ascended the stairs. His claw raised up once more, but not to cover his eye, but to remove the tears from it.
“Hey, Fluttershy?”
She paused at the last step and paid a glance downward.
“I think you look terrific with bed-hair.”
She smiled.
He laughed.