//------------------------------// // V – Honest Talks // Story: Spike's Temporary Stay // by B_25 //------------------------------// ~V~ HONEST TALKS Sneaking into the Apple’s family house was no easy feat. The stairs cricketed with every step, with the added weight of a dragon serving only to make them cry out even louder. And shushing them did nothing to quiet them. Nonetheless, the dragon entered the home through the back door. Applejack’s previous advice about the back door proved useful to the dragon with no name, but was redundant to Spike. After visiting the farm a million times with Twilight, it was hard to not know its layout. The simple – yet interesting – kitchen, with a wooden floor that stretched out throughout the house. Despite the narrow halls, it was still wide enough for the family members to pass one-another, and have their memories hung upon the walls. Photos of reunions; a vase that told of a tragic love; scribbles that lay at the bottom of the wall, that showed that the next generation had arrived. These halls were a testament that the Apples had lived in the past, were living in the present, and would be born into the future. Spike stood in the hall and admired all that made the Apples into what they are today, but a certain photo was what caught his gaze. It was of the Apple family standing behind a table, full of food, with Applejack smiling in front of it. Next to her was a heavy looking Twilight Sparkle, wearing a weary smile. Spike smiled, though that smile quickly faded. As next to Twilight, was Spike himself – only his face had been cut from the photo, and taped back on. Spike rose his talons to the photo, aiming to touch his memory... Something rocked back in forth, at the end of the hall. Spike threw his back to the wall and placed his ear to it. The rocking continued, and proved that the drake was not alone in this house. Something was in the next room over, waiting, and the slightest noise would alert it to Spike’s presence. And if knew that, then it may do the one thing that terrified Spike the most. It would want to talk to him. Spike slid his back down the wall’s length, being careful with his every step— The rocking stopped. Spike held his breath. Someone moved around in their seat. “...darn...kids…” The voice was fragile, ready to croak at any second. A series of snores then came afterwards, and the rocking started back up. Spike reached the end of the hall, and a dared a peek, into the room. The one responsible for Spike’s distress, was the one, the only, Granny Smith. Her were closed, and her body leaned back and forth, upon her rocking chair. “...ruin my lawn...I tell you...” Spike chuckled as he unstuck his back from the wall. To think, that Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Twilight, Pinkie: they all had changed in some way. But here, Granny Smith sat, not looking a year older since Spike had run-away. Truly, she was going to outlive them all. Granny didn’t have her signature tube in her ear, meaning that Spike could make a fuss and she would be able to hear his call. He still tip-toed up the stairs, and into the family’s bathroom. No more alert phases could be triggered here, so the dragon let loose with a giant yawn. “Talk about being the cause for heart-attacks, Granny Smith,” Spike said to himself, as he slid the bath-tub’s curtains out of the way. The dials squeaked as they turned. Spike stepped into the tub, and couldn’t help but moan at the warm droplets of water that rushed down his scales, and took away any dirt with them. The clog that muddled his mental capacity, began to evaporate away along with the rising steam. A good shower is meant to be both physically and mentally refreshing, whereas a bucket of water to the face only serves to instill the chills. Spike inhaled deeply the warm mist, allowing it to cleanse the filth inside his lungs, and then exhaled it all. He looked over to the window next to him, and checked to make sure it was closed, before sucking the green liquid off his scales and forming it into a ball. His scales glew purple once more, and the ball of green was set upon the counter. My body feels as light as a feather, and my mind doesn’t have any rusty chains holding it down. Is it because if the shower? Or that I took my mask of? Meh! Either way, it doesn’t matter, because I feel great. Though greatness doesn’t tend to last forever. The hot water was getting cold, and even if scales couldn’t sag, the body still sent signals for when it was time to leave. Stepping out of the tub and walking to the mirror, Spike looked at his reflection. The scars that the Timber Wolves gave him were now just lines on his chest, Spike smiled at them, though he kinda wished they were a bit bigger, as if that would make him look cooler. Flexing his biceps; they definitely weren’t small, though they had a long way to go before being considered big. Spike’s face had also became sharper over the years, though they still retained some of his baby face. The dragon mopped away from the mirror, and went to reclaim his mask. In pressing it against his chest, the color began to spread across his scales. The transformation looked awesome the first time around, but after seeing it a few times, the act started to lose its effect. It was like a time waster, nowadays. Passing by the mirror, the drake was unable to do just that. Tilting his head, a smile came across his lips. “Wow…” Was Spike looking at the same dragon? Because what he saw in the mirror was a drake he wanted to be. His face looked brilliant and sharp, with no resemblance to his baby self. His chest stuck out just right now, with his biceps pleasing to the eye. Even his scars looked like achievements. His spines rain down in a straight line, while his frills hugged to his cheeks. Spike had gone into the bathroom a mess, and now the dragon with no name came out looking groomed for success. After a mirror session that would rival the time of Rarity, the dragon left the bathroom and ran off the walls as went down the stairs. Granny Smith no longer resided in the family room, allowing for the drake to make a little noise. She could be in the kitchen. Deciding it wasn’t the time to say hello, Spike tried to dash down the hall and get out of dodge. “Woah, Sugarcube!?” Spike’s foot stopped his entire being at the middle of frame. He turned his head to the kitchen. “Oh, hey! Did you already find out what I did to the water?” Sitting together at the family table was Applejack and Big Mac; Aj had her head tilted. “The water?” she said, looking over to Big Mac, who only shrugged in response. She looked back to the drake. “Whatever’s wrong with it is fine, sugarcube. But, can I ask you to sit down for a quick second?” Spike heart desperately beaten; had Applejack found out about his identity? He looked over to Big Mac, who seemed catch his shock, and lightly shook his head in response, quenching the dragon’s fear. With a shaky exhale, the drake took a seat at the table. “So wh–what’s this all about?” “Well…” Applejack began, setting her hooves on the table. “I heard you went off into town the other day with Rainbow Dash – and I heard she forced you into it, but I also hear that you weren’t exactly complaining about it.” “I suppose hearing about how many heros come from this place, that I was a bit interested to see how the town was like,” Spike said, a claw placed on the table. “It’s simple here, and I like that. Ponies actually seem nice here, unlike the jerks I’ve met in many other towns.” “It’s good to hear that you're finally adjusting to our kind,” Applejack said with a relaxed sigh. “It might make what I have to propose next a little easier to say.” Spike quirked a brow. “When we first met, you went off sprouting how you were going to pay me back.” “Ah.” Spike leaned his head back. “So you want to lay out what I owe you?” “Not particularity. Just… I know you wanna make a few more bits on-top of that, so that you can leave this town. That is your end goal, right?” Spike couldn’t open his mouth to speak the words, so he slowly nodded his head instead. “Now, if you don’t mind my asking, what kind of work are you here looking for?” The dragon’s eyes wandered down to the wooden-table’s surface. “I’d… take anything, really.” His eyes shot back up to the mare. “Just as long as it’s enough to pay you back – an amount you haven’t told me yet.” Applejack sighed as she took her hooves off the table, and let them dangle by her side. : “It’s like I told you when we first met,” Applejack said, her voice weary. “You don’t owe me a thing; I just did what I felt was right, and I don’t feel like it's right for you to pay me back.” She looked into the dragon’s eyes, almost as if she was looking past his mask.“And that’s all there is too it.” Spike leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “You spent time watching over me, and spent bits to pay for my medicine.” He uncrossed his arms and propped up a claw on the table. “Even if that doesn’t feel like a lot to you, I still feel some responsibility for it; my dragon code calls upon me to at least do something for you.” Applejack sighed as her eyes came to a close. “If that’s the case”– her eyes reopened –” then you can include those responsibilities on this here offer.” Spike adjusted himself in his seat. “Offer?” “We can’t have ya living in the barn – it's not only a burden on storage, but it's also no way for someone to live,” Applejack said. “We have some vacant huts on the farm for the international workers, and I’m sure one of them would be big enough for you.” “So you’d willing to rent one out for me?” Spike asked with a curious smile, but a claw soon found itself placed on his upper lip. “I was just going to stay at a hotel. And if push came to shove, I’d just sleep outside.” “Sleep outside?” “Yeah.” Spike chuckled. “It’s what I did back in the forest. Though, if I can scavenge up the bits, I’d much prefer to have a hut.” Not only that, but living in a hut is the furthest thing away from Ponyville – from ponies themselves… and from my old friends. “As would I.” Applejack said, sitting upright in her seat. “You went into town, and came back without there being an issue. Yet, I hear your demeanor could still use some work, especially around ponies. Or, so I hear from Pinkie Pie.” Spike didn’t say anything, as he stared at Applejack, without an expression on his face. Applejack didn’t back down. “Am I wrong in saying that?” The drake kept staring, and after a few seconds, he huffed. “Guess not.” “That’s good,” She said, allowing her shoulders to relax. “I’m not saying you need to change, as I don’t have an issue with you walking around on the farm, but having you in town, well… I honestly can’t tell you what could happen.” “I like the distance anyway.” Applejack tilted her head, and her shoulders tensed once more. “Like I said: I don’t mind you on the farm. Applebloom has already met you, and couldn’t stop rambling on about it. Granny doesn’t seem to mind you, though you did wake up going up the stairs.” What? How!? “And Big Mac here doesn't have anything against you.” Big Mac looked Spike up and down, before closing his eyes, and nodding his head. Spike smirked, while his eyes bounced between the siblings. “So with that being said–” Applejack retrieved a paper next to her seat, and slid it along the table “–we want you to read over this. Spike pulled the paper down with a talon, and began to read. And within a few moments, his eyes shot back up at the simply, with a growing smiled that stretched out to his ears. “You two serious?” he asked, a smile coming about on its own. “You want me to work for you?” Applejack giggled as she leant over the table. “We have two workers whose contracts ends this season, with them going off to Manehattan afterwards to study. So in the meantime, we need someone to fill their place.” “So you're looking to hire me along with someone else then.” “Actually,” the mare began, “we’re starting to think that you might be enough to fill both spots.” She chuckled. “After seeing your performance on the field, although a bit choppy, still had potential behind it. Even without training, you still met the quota of a typical worker. “If we train you well enough, and use that dragon strength to its potential, then we’re thinking that you might be able to do double the work a pony is able. Heck! Maybe even a little more.” I don’t think I’ll be that good. But thanks for the boost of confidence, Applejack. “Mind you!” The dragon jumped his seat, his tail shooting out like an arrow. “If you do meet the quota of two ponies, or even more, then we can discuss in increase in pay.” Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at Applejack antics; which were only caused by her desire for everything to be fair and honest. What was more commendable, is that even after the little outcry, she still held her head up and displayed a smile. Applejack’s antics never seemed embarrass her. Spike smiled as his eyes hovered over the salary. “The amount you’ve listed already has my mouth watering.” He looked up at the two. “Seriously, I don’t think a dragon like me even deserves that much.” A knife slashed through Spike’s heart, and its contents spilled out inside his body. His eyes were ready to pop, and his arms became hollow. It took all his remaining strength to keep himself sitting straight, as a hand began to fly within his being. Dragons are inherently greedy creatures, but it is their will that determines the size of their hoard. To fully indulge in a dragon’s instinct, is to loose the mind in greed; to ignore what a dragon is, serves to cause the being to collapse. Just like how a lion must be honest with itself in its need for meet, so too a dragon must be honest, with what it is that makes him a dragon. He needs to control it, and not let it control him. But worse of all, he must not forget what it is that makes him a dragon. “Rest assure, Sugarcube,” Applejack started back up, “that you look to be worth the asking price.” The dragon managed the strength to look back up at her. “But if you don’t mind my saying so, it seems our offering you a job sent you down for a little scare.” Her features lighten. “Is… is there anything you don’t like about the offer, or there an issue with you working on the farm? “You won’t hurt my feelings in saying so. I’d rather you turn down the offer if it would make you happier.” Applejack's words were imputed with with as much sincerity as they could hold. Why does an unemotional pony like her, have to put so many feelings into caring over others? She seemed so ready to let a teardrop, as his body trembles in anger, for her to do such a thing in the presence of someone else. How dare Applejack show her feelings to the world. And to do so in the presence of someone like Spike. Spike did his best to control his breathing. “It’s not that I hate working on the farm. In fact, it's the best job I could ask for at the moment.” Well, besides becoming an assistant again, but that title is long retired. Spike chuckled at the thought. And here Applejack is, worried for my working conditions, and even my pay.  Someone willing to pay me for my work; why does that sound so foreign to me? “It gives my claws something to work with, while I think about what should come next.” Spike stopped to chuckle. “I’m a little more sociable now, but I still fear what you pony folk may be thinking. “But I suppose… that really isn’t my fear.” those aren’t the things that really on my mind.” “Wha—” Applejack exhaled and fidgeted in the seat. While she seemingly prepared for her voice to be as soft as possible. “What is it… you’re afraid of?” Spike didn’t say anything as he averted his gaze. “You you can tell me anything, partner,” Applejack said. “Even if it hurts my feelings.” Hurt your feelings? My, how things have turned around in two years! Hurting your feelings in the first place is what caused this mess. And you want to know what’s even more funny? That I may now have to work for a mare that hurt my feelings. Feelings. Feelings? Feelings! It’s all about feelings here! With you pony folk, all you care about is respecting each other's feelings. Why bother? It's just a waste of time to deal with feelings, nonetheless your own. Celestia, what am I even talking about anymore? I have to focus on the issue before me: I have Applejack offering me a job, which isn’t an evil thing. But if I keep being passive to these ponies offers, then there’s a chance that I could fall into their trap… and become their friend again. I just can’t let that happen. Unsaid words and feelings continued to sink in the pools of Spike; their descent causing the walls around them to decay. Despite wanting to make the water boil, so that they may fly out and finally be free… they continued to sink to the bottom of the sea. “When I came this town,” Spike said as he kept his eyes distant from theirs, “even though I was crawling, I made the promise that I wouldn’t befriend any of you ponies – that I would stay as far away as I could. “By taking this job, is to not only break that promise, but to shatter an oath I swore long ago. Not only will I start to get close to you ponies, something even scarier may happen: I may think that ponies are good on the inside.” Nothing was said for a little while, as the words hung in the air. Big Mac had been quiet this whole time, with his eyes shut. While Applejack hid under her hat, with an expression Spike was unable to read. Finally, Applejack spoke. “I thought that after showing you kindness, and Rainbow sticking to you despite what you had said, that your grudge would at least slimmer.” “It did,” Spike said, “and that’s why I’m afraid.” Big Mac opened his eyes; Applejack slid up her hat. Spike continued on. “I’ve had ponies inflict their prejudice upon me in more ways than one, to the point I just want to believe that you're all inherently evil. That there’s no sense in getting my hopes up when a pony nice to me, because they’ll just stab me in the back later.” “Now you’re starting to make sense,” Applejack said with a breath of relief. “Sugarcube, let me put this as lightly as I can. This… hatred, and the questions that come forth from it, isn’t going to be solved by someone else. Now, I don’t doubt for a second, that why you hate ponies isn’t well-founded upon. “But you have to understand, that everypony isn’t necessary good or evil. Sometimes, we all just make mistakes.” The dragon curled his claw as a flame shot through his veins. He hid his face under the darkness of his own expression. I’m WELL aware that we all make mistakes. Spike’s shoulder trembled, with each passing breath used to calm the muscles. But on the level in which you speak, Applejack: maybe you shouldn’t be the one talking on the matter. Let someone's whose pure, like Big Mac, talk about what’s right in wrong. Not somepony who probably doesn’t know the differnce herself. Each breath also played in part of cooling his mind. Applejacks words must ring some truth, at least to herself. So it might be okay listening to what she might have to say; anything Spike didn’t like could be rejected. “If you lower your shields, partner, you take that risk of somepony taking a shot,” Applejack said, her tone light light despite her words carrying quite the weight.   “Not all ponies are good,” she said, “and not all dragons are evil. To believe otherwise is to become stuck in a single-view point, which I guess is a safe option to some.” She drew a breath. “But something tells me… that you aren’t like that.You don’t want to beleive in an easy fantasy, but in somthing that is real” Spike mouth went agape, with his eyes staring into the wooden-table. Her words had caught him in his attempt to avoid the problem. “The choice is yours, and yours alone,” she stated, her tone returning to normal. “You can work with us and make a few friends, or keep on living like how you are now. Neither choice is wrong, so long as it brings you happiness. “Which, at the end of the day, is the only thing I want you to have.” The drake leaned back in his seat, rocking it back and forth as he looked at the paper. Funny, how one signature – something that takes a few seconds – can change someone’s future. How a chunk of someone's time will be spent, decided at this very moment. Just how long will I be tied up here? Can I actually work on the farm and not make friends with anypony. Because no matter how much I swear not too in my head, when I finally get talking to one, a part of me never wants to stop. I can’t trust that feelings, no matter how good it may feel. It's just not wise. But let's say I can keep my distance, and work on the farm, and most likely read while in my hut. Will I be able to avoid them – the six? My heart burns when I’m near them, and it takes all of my willpower to not go savage then and there. But look at me and Applejack… even though I’d love nothing more than to twist her words to cause her pain… A part of me wants to sit on the picket fence once more, as we discuss life and the happenings in the world. Just to hear her thoughts, and to have her listen– see! If such bastard feelings come for her, then there’s a chance… “Hey, Sugarcube?” asked a voice. “You’ve … is everything okay?” Spike head slipped off his hand, which shot straight up. “Of course!” He exclaimed, drawing a breath to repress his beating heart.  “Sorry, I was wrapped up in my thoughts.” The paper remained unsigned on the desk, causing the drake to gulp. Reaching for the pen next to it, he brought the utensil before his eyes and admired it – for it allowed him a few moments of peace. Clicking the pen, he brought it to the paper, and signed. “Honey, are you sure?” Spike slid the paper over. “Honestly, what you two are offering is more than what a dragon like me is worth. I know I’ll be a bit rusty with how work is performed – and that isn’t to say how my condition may affect my performance.” He drew a breath and smiled. “And my communication with others may come off as a bit edgy. But as long as I have you two to coach me, then I think we could shave those edges.” Applejack didn’t say a word for a moment. Big Mac over there was smiling, and let loose a chuckle. Then, a stream of light laughter came from Applejack, as she rose from her seat, came next to the dragon, and wrapped him up in a hug. Spike’s eyes looked around as his arms hung at his side. Applejack leaned her head on his side, and allowing no way to exit the hug. So Spike bit his tongue, and patted the mare on the head. She looked up to him in a tilted fashion, with a single brow raised. “Really?” “I’m not so good with hugs, yet.” Applejack dragged the paper along the table as she returned to her seat, where she began to smirk. “Now I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been dying to find what name you gave yourself.” Maybe it was because of her tone, but Applejack looked ready to rub her hooves together as her mind plotted an evil scheme. She hovered over the paper and read the lines, which made her smirk disappear. “You signatured the letter D?” “Well… I didn’t have a name to put, so I figured D for Dragon would suffice.” Applejack slammed her face unto the table. “Big Mac,” her voice came muffled from the wood, “I’ll let you discuss the living and working agreements, as my head is calling in a quits.” The meeting lasted until night. Spike smiled whenever someone talked, and didn’t hesitate to chuckle at a good pun. Whenever it was his turn to talk over soup, he wasn’t stingy about sharing the details of his  tales back in the forest. Of course, fighting timberwolves and making fires don’t count as job experiences, but it helped the employers understand just what past he came from. Plus, there was joy in creating a backstory for the green scaled character, yet retaining enough as not to not reveal the purple scales within. Once everything was said and done, the dragon was shown to his hut out on the land. It looked like a wooden capsule, with a door, and windows on either side. Inside the hut, Spike could stand erect and his head would just gaze the ceiling. And while he slept, there was enough room so that his legs remained on the bed. There was another door in the hut, that led to his bathroom and shower, but any food would have to be cooked inside the Apples house. Next to the bed stood a wooden table, with a lamp and a glass frame holder. Along the walls were shelves, with enough room on top to place treasured items; a great starting place for a hoard. “The previous owner had enough books to fill the place whole, so I figured this setup would be best for you,” Applejack had said. “Once you’re done working, you can go visit the library afterwards and fill up your collection.” Spike entered his temporary home and lunged onto his bed. “Dash was telling me how you and Twilight hit it off well,” Applejack said. “I think you two would have a lot to discuss if you gave her a chance as well.” Spike buried his head into his pillow, as his feet kicked on the mattress. “Don’t mistake me, Applejack,” came the muffled voice of Spike. “You’re the only one I’m giving a chance to.” And even then, I didn’t say we were friends… just merely, good acquaintances. Turning over, the wooden roof captured Spike’s view. “Still, not a terrible situation we’ve found ourselves in. I mean, I go could go on for days, complaining about coming back to this town, but–” Spike stretched out his out in four directions until they pleasurably popped “–but where would that get us?” “A decent amount of bits to tide us over, with a place to call our own, and even a few ponies we can chat to if we feel like doing so; can’t say I’d be doing better back in the forest.” He slipped his feet under the covers and slid his back onto the puffy mattress. A moan escaped his lips. “Plus, it’s up to me whenever I want to head back into town. That’s right… I get to… decided where to… go..” The world became a blur, that offered vague remembrance of the hut. While the emptiness of the place would paint a pretty proietti, a dragon still has within their systems a demand for a hoard. As long as his possessions didn’t attract the attention of the farm owners, then it would be safe to call this home his cave. The lamp dimmed without a pull on its cord, which in then, the dragon welcomed the refreshing, temporary darkness. Nightmares didn’t disturb the great sleep. Nor did any arrogant Princesses preach any wisdom which they couldn’t follow thyselves. Such an unconscious affair allows the mind to loosen, and for a fresh air to take away any stale thoughts. At the rise of the sun and the coo from the cock, a pair of eyes began to stir. A claw was set forth in defense of the eyes, from the attacking rays of sun. At last, the defense was too small, and the rays plentiful. So as the sun rose, so too with it, did a dragon. To standing outside on the perch, the dragon stretched as the warm air filled his nostrils. This was the first time he was able to leave a house that he owned, and take in the delight of the morning rise. Spike had his own home. A piece of property in  which he lived solely in, and could do as he wish in. Filling it with books or having pizza boxes on the ground; it was all his call on what he wanted to do. Though, for the moment, he wanted to get to work – because he totally had a choice in that matter. The morning was spent with a shared breakfast and a pot of coffee with Applejack, who would go on to explain the day's events, and teaching the ways of the farm life. In whatever subject spoke; at what speed you should plough the fields, to the variations of seeds – Spike leaned forward and eagerly nodded his head. Even when it came to the growth of seeds and their interaction with water – which is enough to send the average pony to sleep – there was a tingle to every word Applejack spoke on it. The talk wasn’t of that of a manger explaining how to mop the floors to an employee, but rather the magic behind the work, and the wisdom that could be taken from it. With such a passion and an understanding, every word Applejack spoke came with an entertaining value – that often resulted in Spike muttering the point Applejack was trying to reach. In response, was always a smile and a “right.” She would then go further on the matter, and Spike couldn’t be more privileged than to be her student. Whereas in the forest, where he wanted nothing more than to speak his mind out, at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to listen to her words. And while he couldn’t be sure, Applejack seemed more lively as she explained her ways. Almost like she enjoyed his presence… as much as he enjoyed hers. He couldn’t be sure of that fact, like how they way she spoke wasn’t uniquely for him, but for everyone else as well. Plus, it could be he isn’t the only good listener among the group, so then this experience she has wouldn’t be her first, even though it was his. So then, the only unique out of this group would be Applejack, and not the workers. Spike still continued to listen with a pleasant smile, though deeper thoughts nagged at the back of his head. After training, Spike would get claws-on experience on the farm, and release the tension some of the deeper thoughts that lingered on his mind. The outlet made him bits and as well as physically stronger, though it did nothing to cure what plagued him mentally. After work, Spike kept to his reclusive ways and retired to his hut. While given an advance on his pay, the hut still lacked items. There wasn’t a need to go out shopping yet, when Romantic Suffering had yet to be finished. And the the drake would fall asleep afterwards, and he would either have a dream or nightmare, depending on how his conscious felt. Regardless of either one, he would wake up at the coo of the cock, and prepare to go to work. That’s how the first two days were spent after Spike acquired his job, the temporary member of Ponyville. And then on the third day... … The moon was missing from the sky. The striking of the tree resounded all throughout, as thunder lit-up   kick resounded from the tree, as thunder lit up the black backdrop. Grass stood up on its end in fright, yet it didn’t break the dragon from his posture. Cold droplet fell from the empty sky; one of them falling upon a snout, and awakening the owner’s absent eyes. Silhouette of trees were the only things to be seen, as even the tree in-front of Spike was enshrouded in a shadow. Thunder lit the world once again, the trees and grass covered in a glow, before disappearing back into the black mist. “It’s never been this dark before,” the drake said, looking up to the sky, only to find it missing. “Even when Nightmare Moon casted the endless night, a glow still came from the moon…” Looking down at his claw, half of it seemed to be lost in the dark. I wasn’t even working that late, but for it to get so dark without me knowing is bizarre. Don’t tell me there’s a new villain in town that Twilight and the others are facing against. Spike foot was still pressed against the tree, which he brought back down to the grass. “I’m probably just overreacting,” he assured to himself with a chuckle. “Besides, even if there was a villain at work, the Elements should be able to handle it.” The claws wandered through the black mist, until they came across the handle to the cart. “Though if there is a villain at play, I better lock myself up in my hut, and let the heroes take care of the action.” The dragon took the cart hopefully filled with apples, and made his way back to the shack. The ground held many ingrown branches, which remained unseen in the dark mist. Many a time a foot was caught in their grasp, and few a time, that a face met the abyss below. Reptilian eyes adjusted to the darkness well – better than a pony’s – but they couldn’t see what lay ten feet ahead. With the loss of vision, came the ability to hear the rain pelting against the grass. The rustling in the distance by a wind that Spike couldn’t feel. Yet even though all these sounds could be heard, there wasn’t one that might of belonged to somepony else. Spike was alone in the dark mist. The carts were returned to their stations, and Spike tried to navigate his way home. His scales drenched by the cold downpour, the clouds were in the sky were so black, that they all meshed together in the black sky. A pair of eyes existed in the black mist. They watched Spike from afar, yet they couldn’t be seen by the dragon himself. Whatever this monster was, it saw better in the dark than it did in the light. A smile was probably on its face, and it could do anything it wished to the dragon. But it did not make a sound. There was a thing that could do anything it wished to the sacred dragon, yet all it did was watch, and fill the dragon with its presence. The water pelted against something harder than grass. The dragon whipped his head left to witness the thing, only to see a house jump into existence. He leapt into the air and elicited a scream, as his tail was pulled as far it could go. Landing on his bottom, the drake crawled backwards, which served to allow him to see the entire haunted house. Nothing could be seen in the darkness, yet the entirety of that house had a glow. There were no candles lit, and no lights from within. Yet it emitted a white glow, just strong enough for the house to be seen. The glow of the house was similar to that of the moon… On the top-right window, a faint figure was hunched over and seemed to be sniffling. Spike scratched the back of his head, as the curtains of the window were drawn closed. Spike took a step away from the house. And then another. And on the third step, he hovered it over the grass. Looking back, the house almost disappeared from his vision, just like how the sniffles were overlapped by the rain. But even though the haunted house was about to disappear; even though the rained assured Spike that no one had been crying – that he didn’t need to do anything – it didn’t change the fact that within Spike’s heart, that he was too scared to tempt his fears to make sure that someone was okay.   Turning around and taking a step, the doors of the house screamed as they banged against themselves, lest they gobble him forever; the windows winking at the idea. A claw trembled, as it reached out to the door knob. The owner of it closed his eyes, and the trembles settled, as the was pushed open. Rejecting his fears, the dragon with no name entered into his demise.   No ghosts came to greet him upon his entrance, to which, Spike breathed of relief – he hadn’t a vacuum to protect himself. But no chances were to be taken in such a place, so Spike traveled on his tippy-toes. All the candles remained unlit in the house, and the windows only invited more of the black mist. The drake pressed his back against the wall and slid along its length, as he had not the eyes to guide himself. A few days before, Spike knew the house like the back of his hand. But now, it layout served more challenging than that of the labyrinth. Despite these challenges, the dragon was still in search for the one who weeps, and this desire made the house glow the faintest of lights. The stairs could be seen, but what lay at the top remained a mystery. Spike travels up, step after step, and reached the corridor at the top, which was lit up by another strike of lighting. Windows shone in its glow, and the doors stuck in the drake’s memory. Something thumped at the end of the hall. Every step creaked to loud; the dragon stood too tall that he may be seen. His body shook, his eyes dancing around all around him. The candles desired it so-so much to be lit by a green flame, but if such an act were to occur, then it might awaken the ponies from their portraits. At the end of the hall, came the final door. Sniffles squeaked from the other side, causing Spike to gulp, as he took hold of the handle. Turning the handle made it squeak, but that did not stop the door from being opened. The sniffles stopped, along with Spike’s heart. Was there a truly a ghost awaiting him in the room? And had it been haunting him this entire time, testing the length of his courage? Spike reached out to the candle hanging next to the door, and spit onto it, a green fire. The door slammed behind him. The candle was thrown onto the floor, as the dragon leaped into the air. A green glow now blanketing the room, but its light stopped just before a bed, leaving the creature atop it enshrouded in the black mist. “Sorry for the scare,” said a voice, “I guess I gone here… and forgot to close my window…” The curtains floated up. The window slammed closed. The curtains deflated. “Apple…” “Why if it isn’t you.” The voice giggled. “I thought for sure it would be Big Mac to catch me like this. But for you… heh.” “Apple…?” “It's just funny, I suppose. The someone – so much like him – would get to witness me like this. Oh boy, if he were to see me crying; I’d bet he’d be laughing.” Spike didn’t laugh. He only stepped forward. “Please don’t come any closer... I’d rather not have someone like you, see me so weak.” “Weak?” Spike repeated. “I–I didn’t know it was possible for someone like you, to… to be weak.” He shook his head. “A hero… both in the media and in real life… to be weak? It’s like that song, you know? Big mares don’t cry.” The lyrics of the song, along with its pitch, almost came out of the dragon’s mouth. But what was happening at the moment; coming across Applejack weak and in tears, proved too much a strain on his voice. “Especially a mare like you, Applejack.” His eyes attempted to pierce for the darkness, but the mist proved too thick. “Someone as great as you can’t possibly cry, or even consider themselves for a moment, weak.” “I ain’t no hero, Sugarcube,” replied the voice. “And you’ve giving me too much credit: just a few days ago, you were holding me up with just one claw.” “But you still maintained your character, that you were in control of the situation.” “That isn’t a superpower, it’s just call grit,” said the voice. “And you’d develop it, if you weren't busy worrying about every little thing–” a sob escaped the sore wastelands that was Applejack’s throat “– that’s going to happen to you.” Still burning in the middle of the room, was the candle. Spike came and sat before it – its light illuminating his entire being; while the figure kept itself in the darkness. “That’s a tip for my self-improvement,” the dragon said, “now about we start talking about you?” “And like I said earlier–” the voice grew in volume “–I do not want you to seeing me in this state! So why don’t you scurry off home and get a good night’s sleep!” Hooves slammed against the bedframe, spiking the dragon’s heart-rate. Sobs came from the bed, even more plentiful than before. Looking down at the candle, Spike could pitch its flame, and cast the whole room to the black mist. But such was true is the fire went unattended, as there lay enough stick, for the fire the reach the wooden-floor, and capture the whole house in its fire. “I’m too much of a wuss to walk home in the dark,” Spike said, looking back to the bed.  “And besides, your request is being met: I can’t see you, though you can see me if you like.” A sniffle was the response. “As heroic as it may sound, holding in your feelings isn’t as romantic as it sounds. From the moment you met me, you can tell how cranky I was because of it.”Spike began to chuckle at his bitter past, and laughed at the way he tried to deal with it. “You’re surrounding by family that love you, Applejack. Even better, they’re willing to listen to you pour it all out, and comfort you afterwards.” Spike looked down to the fire. “It’s… a pretty awesome thing to have, and I think you should take advantage of it.” The flame started to dance, its glow reaching farther depths of the room. “It could be an amazing thing,” said the frail voice, “if you can trust that pony afterward, to not go off and run their mouth.” A fire’s unable to run their mouth, they can only keep burning with what you feed it. A fire will spread into town, but it won’t tell the town’s inhabitants of the secrets told to it. “How…” Spike’s chest had become light, and words too heavy to say. “What do you mean?” “It’s best for ponies to not let others hear of their problems, and just write it down on paper and resolve it themselves,” the voice snapped; the sniffles disappearing. “Because you can go tell another pony what’s troubling you – but if they misinterpreted what they hear, then there’s a chance, that what they do next, may end up killing you on the inside. “Running their mouths; telling their lies; banding everyone against him. I don’t go to others anymore for help, and I’m weary when someone starts asking me for help. Just ends up becoming a mess.” The flame stopped dancing; more of the black mist invaded the room. “That’s the lesson you got there,” Spike finally said, “write it down on a scroll and send it Twilight’s way, and I bet she would eat it up.” “Though, I’m just surprised I’m the the one in this position right now,” Spike said to himself. “Typically, these friendship-issues, happen in Twilight’s presence: and it's up to her to find the solution, and enhance her study of friendship.” “And just how do you know that?” “Rainbow talks a lot. Though, do tell me: holding in all that pent-up stress must strain on you from time to time, how do you deal with it?” “Work.” “Work?” “Work,” said the voice. “When you focus your all on doing something, it help alleviates your frustration.” “How about the days when you feel ready to explode?” The flame shot up, before slithering back down. “Find ways to deal with it in private.” “In private,” Spike said to the flame. “So it isn’t a sin to cry, just as long as no one catches you doing it.” I’m not the type to cry anymore. But something about this philosophy still doesn’t sound right. Blackness continued to exist out the window, without a wink of light present. Though the helplessness of the world didn’t affect the drake, as being in the company of someone else, made the burden bearable.  Though that hopeless feeling didn’t hurt Spike as much, as he was in the presence of someone else. “When you choose to not trust others with your feelings,” Spike began, “are you doing so, to be left alone, or because of what others might think?” The mare made a sound: whether it a chuckle or a sob, was unknown. “You sure are like him…” She breathed out a sob. “Like Spike. Curious about everything; if he were still around, you two would have a lot to talk about you’d have a lot to talk about.” “... that doesn’t answer my question.” “It’s a bit of both, then,” the mare answered. “My actions in my past, should be kept to myself, and I’m no longer deserving of a listening ear because of it.” The flame leaned to its limits, in the direction of the bed, despite there being no wind. It attempted to cast light, unto the one who hid in the dark, keeping the truth of the event hidden to all. “And why don’t you deserve to be heard?” “Because I told a lie.” “What do you mean?” Green eyes floated above the bed, the brightness behind them, allowed the eyes to be seen even in the dark. Had the mare been looking out the window this entire time, and that was why Spike couldn’t see her? And if that’s the case, what in the black sky was she looking at? “Would you like to hear a story?” said the eyes. The light receded from the bed, as the flame stood still. Spike nodded his head, causing the eyes to disappear. “It feels like it happened a long time ago, though in truth, it’s only been two and a half years.” “You’ve been keeping track?” As well. “It’s hard to forget that day, as I can’t help but to relive it once in a while,” replied the voice. “The same day, that lil’ ol Spike came to pay me a visit. He was younger than you are now, but just as childish.” The voice giggled. “Easy-going: he would follow Twilight and the rest of us until the very end. Crude at times, but a gentledrake at heart – you could even take a lesson from him.” Spike didn’t have a comment to make, nor did he move an inch. The voice went silent for a moment, as the green flame continued to burn. After a deep breath, the voice returned. “To be honest, we didn’t give the boy enough credit. Everyone regards us as heroes, as you have said, but I don’t think anyone ever praised the qualities in Spike nearly enough. The boy stood up to his fears, so that he could face against evil in Twilight’s stead, even though his legs were buckling under him. “Kid had courage, and we should’ve gave him more credit for it. You hear these stories about dragons being bad, but Spike wasn’t anything like them. We should’ve given him more credit… we should’ve given Spike more credit…” The dragon sitting in the light tilted his head. “Was this, Spike, bad-mouthed around town?” “Not at first,” said the voice, “everyone regarded him like any other filly or colt. But then, everyone caught whiff of the scent of his dragon nature…” The voice dryly chuckled. “I guess that’s why the whole town is so fixated on you as of late. I’m guessing you’ve seen the odd ponies stalking the farm?” “Not that I’ve seen,” the drake said. “Though a co-worker did ask, if I was going to eat them or not.” “WHO!?” “... in jest,” the drake finished with a slight smirk. “Not gonna lie and say no one acts odd around me, but from what I can tell, everyone seems fine with me.” “You can’t go off and scare me like that!” the mare exclaimed, her sobs sounding faint. “Especially not at a time like this, and… and not when the topic is about Spike. You can’t joke around when we’re talking about Spike.” The flame continued sit still, though it desired to dance throughout the house. If any words were spoken into the flame, would it then spread those words into the rooms it travels, and into the ears of whoever would listen? A flame could not speak, but could the words inside it still be picked out? “What did you do to him,” Spike asked, his eyes narrowed. “What is it, that you did to him?” Salvia gathered at the back of throat, which he shakily swallowed down. A reply had not come from bedside, and Spike’s eyes could not pierce through her darkness. So he took the candle, and slide it closer to the bed. “Answer me. What. Did you. Do?” Sheets shuffled as a bang resounded off the wall. “S-Sugar, m-move back the light.” The candle was inched forward. “Tell me. What you did.” The bed scrapped along the wooden floor, but not enough to phase it through the wall. The room must of gotten colder, because the mare began to audibly shiver. “Okay!” she cried. “Okay.” The green upon Spike’s back was flushed away, as purple scales took their reign. “The–” she afforded herself a moment to breath “–the boy was going through a troubling time; he was a dragon living in a pony society. Twilight couldn’t give him the information he needed, nor was she the best one to listen to your feelings. “She’d just come up with theories to your feelings, and looked to see if you had a mental illness. She’s a good mare, but she also a bit much.” “Don’t delve off topic,” the dragon barked. The mare yelped, and continued on with her excuse. “So the boy would come down to the farm, sit with Big Mac and me, and we would just talk. Looking up to the sky for a little while, Big Mac and me would share our piece, and then… little Spikey would speak. “He always seemed to take our wisdom to heart. We always listened to Spike, and never judged what he had to say – feeling can’t be wrong, for they’re just there. But it’s our reactions that tell us who we are, and Spike seemed to be in control of his. “I can’t say we helped the boy out with his issues, but he always thanked us for listening.” The voice drew a breath. “If only he knew... that my listening, would become his greatest fear,”   The candle was pulled back, allowing the mare to take more refuge in the dark. “Afraid to speak his feelings,” Spike said to himself, like it were a joke. “I wonder what caused that?” “I’m... I’m not liking your tone.” “A-A history?” “Continue on with the story.” The voice coughed. “Then it came,” her green eyes lit up the darkness once more, “the day I ruined Spike’s life, and created six unforgivable events.” The eyes blinked, and receded back into the dark. “How”– the flame shot up – “did you do that?” “I can’t go into details – I know I’ve already ran my mouth like a Rarity – but I’ve got to keep some of what Spike said a secret.” “And I trust you’d do the same for me,” the dragon said, “but continue with the story.” Tears collided with the wooden floor. “You’ll have to give me a moment.” A claw was clenched. And so was another. Stream escaped through his nostrils, as the fire burned out of spite. She dare cry about this event? She dare attempted to be remorseful? How dare she do such an act! And how dare! The dragon’s heart beat out of sympathy for her, and his eyes look to the floor. How could the same being want to grab the mare by the throat once more, yet want to hold out his claw as well? Hatred. Sympathy. Why was the dragon feeling both, for the one who had broken his feelings? And for the one, who had rescued him? More tears were meeting the wooden floors. More sobs escaped the cavern of the mare’s throat, even though she tried her best to hush them.   Just what reason does a dragon have to sympathize with a mare like her? Because a criminal cries at their hearing, doesn’t make them innocent of their crime. And the mare’s personality is perfect, meaning the crime must have been deliberate. For perfect ponies don’t make mistakes. So why had the drake sat through all this crying and recollection, when he knew the tale himself? Surely, the dragon with no name didn’t care as well, and certainly not for her perspective of the tale. The tale that left Spike unable to express his feelings to anyone – not even himself. He couldn’t be honest with himself, or with those around him. Carrying around a weight that had guilt placed upon it, so that he could speak of it to another soul. Well, this would be the case, if Spike were still alive. The mare deserved to suffer misery, pain, and rejection, over and over. Just like how Spike did, just before his death. Applejack must suffer. Outside the window, to where the black-sky lay, a hole was pierced through the darkness. The moon shone its light through this hole, and showered the land in its glow. The house had been captured in this light, and the candle no longer fought alone. Applejack was curled on the bed, with her drops falling upon the blanked instead. She had nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. Spike could take her into his claws and do as he likes. But instead, he closed his eyes, so that she could not be seen. “Tell me – that day, why did you do it?” The mare went swallowed back her tears and kept silent. It was like she was processing his words, before speaking again. “Spike hadn’t been on the farm for a long while, nor anywhere else for that matter. He’d locked himself in his room, and refused to come out for weeks. “At the time, Spike only trusted me with his feelings, so I was expecting to see him soon on the farm. But the only thing that came, was news of him not eating or drinking, or even talking to those that came to his door. “It was hard on us at the time, as we weren’t sure what triggered his sudden depression. He went through the same act just after his birthday, but we were able to pull him out of it. Spike was a little more quiet after that, and not too long after the Crystal Heart incident, did Spike go completely silent on us.”   “It seems like after his birthday,” the dragon said, “something began to fester inside him.” “Yes,” Applejack said, “and I got bits of what was troubling it, but he would never give me the full story, until the day came, that he finally visited me on the farm.” The dragon kept his mouth shut, and focused on the rise and fall of his chest. A fire still burned within, but it could no longer erupt whenever it liked. Regardless of the words that entered the dragon’s ear, he would be in control of his own fire. So Spike sat still, and listened to her story. “The conversation started off with his fears: Twilight abandoning him, and becoming useless in the eyes of everyone. Never to be of importance to anyone, just a dragon who should never existed; the world would’ve been less annoying that way. “The dragon would stand up to his fears so that he could stand by your side, but whenever it came to things that plagued Spike alone, then he couldn't change them. He’d let the voices ring out in his head, and would always take their words to heart. “It nearly broke my heart to hear him talk in such a way about himself, but no matter what I said, he never seemed to believe what I had to say. Nor did he believe what the other side of him had to say either.” “Sounds like Spike should’ve gotten a therapist,” the drake said. “And I was supposed to be his. Maybe I should’ve gone out and got him one; at least they have to keep what you say a secert.” A light glow washed over the black space of Spike’s vision. He took notice of it, but didn’t allow it to stop him from counting his breaths. “Please, continue with the story.” “The day he came to visit me, apparently he had realization that made him bust out of his room, and dashed down to the farm. He still looked guilt-ridden, but something now blossomed inside him: as if he had found the fire within his core. “A nasty, nasty fire. But I was wrong to say that at the time, just as I am wrong to say it now.” “So the dragon finally became just that.” “Worse,” the mare said. “He told me that he no longer had any fears of being left alone, because he would leave on his own one day, and become a force to be reckoned with. ‘Why should I feel guilt over my rampage’, Spike had said, ‘when the whole thing felt great to me! I’m already seen as an annoyance, so might as well upgrade to a beast. That’s how ponies are starting to me nowadays, so why prove them wrong, when doing so just make me hurt?” “Sounds like Spike was starting to get tired of the voice, and decided to dive right into his full desires. It’s not uncommon for dragon to want power, and in more ways than one.” The sheets shuffled as the mare sat up. “But you should’ve heard him: this was dear ol’ Spike, who had stood up to bad dragons to save an egg. For him to start going off on how it must feel to crush ponies under his foot, and—” “I’m-I’m sorry.” “No need,” the dragon said, “keep some of his details a secret.” The mare shakily exhaled. “He wanted to become our rivals and destroy all the other villains. To never be played down again, to never hear of the heros he had for freinds again: Spike was going to be the only thing in the spotlight.” “When he was done telling me of all these deep feelings and new desires – I didn’t have anything to say to him. No wisdom that could possibly help him. So I sent him back on his way to Twilight, and spent the night thinking about what he had said.” “And what he had said was wrong. I didn’t why, but it just was. Spike needed help, “It’d all spilt out; all those sessions with Spike just came flying out. He trusted me enough to keep his secrets, and I went off spreading them around like gossip. I knew… I knew my heart was in the right place, but I messed it up. Everyone was as disgusted as I was at the dragon, and so everyone treated him as such. “It was because of me, that the town was starting to look at him like a monster.” Spike opened his eyes to find that Applejack had closed hers. Sighing, the dragon rose up from the ground, left the glow of the green light, and joined the mare atop the bed. He raised up her forehooves and allowed them to drape across his shoulders, as she cried into his chest. “Dear little Spike came to me for help, and I’m the one that turned all that help against him. All that my friends did, they wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gossiped like a silly filly. “If I had kept my mouth real tight, Spike wouldn’t have been in so much pain. He wouldn’t of run away, he wouldn’t be dead either!” Spike’s eyes shot moment, as his heart stopped for just a second. Drawing a breath,he started to brush her mane with a claw. “So this… Spike,” the dragon talked, “you think you're the reason he’s dead?” “And even if he weren’t, he’d still be in pain because of me.” Spike exhaled and brought his head close to hers. Rising his claw behind her head, he watched as the scales turned purple. But the magic stopped when it reached his wrist, as claw once again turned green. “I think…” Spike began to stroke the back of her head, “you take too much pride in you guilt.” “Pride?” Applejack looked up at him. “Yes. What you did, sure! It was a horrible thing to do. And I know Spike at the time could probably only see you in a light of hatred. But if he were around now, I’m pretty sure he would have different thoughts about you.” “And how would you know this?!” Applejack yelled. Because I am Spike. “Because us dragons think alike,” the dragon responded. “You have to understand, that if I had someone who I could talk to while I was growing up; it’d be in a better mental place right now. You helped Spike in a way that no other really thought of – not by just listening, but by understanding. Just, when it came to a time where you couldn’t understand; you freaked out. It’s not your fault that you’re not perfect.” Spike drew a long breath. “If Spike, I think, could think that not everyone else is perfect, that that day would be like any other day from your past.” At the end of his sentence, Spike began to laugh. “What?” asked Applejack. “I just realized, not only did you listen to the drake, but you also allowed him to do something which most can’t!” Applejack wiped the tears from her eyes. “And what is that?” “You let him being honest with his feelings!’ Spike laughed. “You allowed him to sprew everything out, sort it, then place understanding back within him. You allowed him not to feel guilty over certain feelings, when he himself is not allowed to be a judge.” “It’s almost like you: you know that you aren’t fully accountable for what happened to Spike, yet these thoughts tell you you are.” Spike brought a claw before his eye. “Even with me. I wanna feels things that my mind tells me no; the way I’m acting all triggers. By being honest with myself, maybe I can sort myself out.” Applejack both cried and laughed. “Boy, you and Spike would’ve gotten along just dandy. But thank you, for letting me open up to you. Heh, isn’t it kinda funny, how Spike use to come to me, and now I’m coming to you.” “You deserve to let loose the dams just like everyone else.” “Does that include you?” “It does,” Spike replied, “even though I wish I could be exempted.” Spike pulled back from the hug. “Well, since I’ve learned this lesson Spike has passed down, I guess I should apply it.” Spike took a breath. “Applejack, will you be my friend?” Thus concldues Act I: Phantom Feelings Over. By not being honest with his feelings, Spike had locked away both his identity and potential. But now, he and Applejack had become friends once again, and her guilt now forgiven.