No.
Rainbow Dash was never one to give into despondency. Not for too long, anyway. And the longer she sat there at the kitchen table, with her head hidden underneath her hooves and her cheeks smoothed with dried tears, the more irritated she became.
With a grunt, she sat up in the chair, resting her forelegs on the table. Her eyes wandered aimlessly around the room, taking in all of the familiar mundanities of her kitchen; the white countertop, only clean from its lack of use, the cabinets above the sink that were seldom opened, the Wonderbolt calendar held in place by a magnet on her refrigerator door…
But then, she saw something else. Something right beside the calendar, held up by the same magnet.
A crayon drawing on a piece of looseleaf, with the insignia of a puffy cumulus cloud spitting out a tri-hued lightning bolt of blue, yellow, and red, in order from left to right. For the first time in a long time, Rainbow Dash really stopped to look at it, and she couldn't help but smile.
Sweet Celestia, she’d even got the order of the colors right.
“What’re you doing?” Rainbow Dash whispered. She scooted the chair back away from the edge of the table. “What are you doing? Sitting on your flank’s not gonna do anything. Crying like a little baby isn’t going to, either.”
She stood up. The drawing convicted her with its silent stare from across the room; the filly who made it had thought she was deserving of all her praise and adoration, and she wasn’t going to just sit back and prove her wrong now.
There was one thing she knew for sure, and it was that right now, she had to find Scootaloo. She had to find her, and she had to apologize. A soft whoosh sounded as her wings extended out, and she crouched low, aiming her body at the front door.
But before she could take off, another thought popped into her head that stopped her dead in her tracks. Just like that, all the despair she thought she had already discarded threatened to come right back at the sudden realization. She folded her wings back.
She had no idea where Scootaloo even lived. And she had already scoured Ponyville twice over to find her, but with no cigar.
Pffft. Some sister I am, she thought bitterly. Since that fateful day at Winsome Falls, the only times she'd really gotten together with Scootaloo were when she'd catch sight of her with her friends, or in the random instances where she'd spot her riding through town on her scooter. In these events, the most she'd do was exchange a few words(and maybe a few noogies) with Scootaloo before heading on her way. In fact, it had been Scootaloo who'd asked her for lessons in the first place. Heck, she'd never even walked Scoots home from school...
School...
The school! A light bulb went off inside her head, making her wings and ears perk up with newfound hope. Of course! The school was sure to at least have something documented with Scootaloo's address on it. And if she could find Ms. Cheerilee, then maybe...
Her newest destination was set. She gave a hard flap of her wings and raced out the door.
...
When Spike stepped into the house, the first thing he noticed was the air. It was dank and laden with dust, and so heavy that Spike felt like his feet were sinking into the dingy carpet floor from the moment he stepped inside. The sensation was unsettling enough to bring him from a run into a cautious crouch, and his body gravitated toward the right wall. He slowly moved forward, training his ears to every sound as the door behind him swung closed.
"Hello!" he hollered to anypony who was inside, pressing down on his chest to keep his breathing under control. "Who's in here?"
His shouts triggered a sharp gasp from another room. In a quavering voice, somepony squeaked, "Wh-who's there?"
The question echoed around the house. Spike crouched even lower, continuing toward the kitchen.
"It's Spike! Spike the dragon..." the claws on his feet clicked on the kitchen tile. His head whipped from side to side, looking down another hallway to the left where he could see several doors. They were all closed. Seeing nopony there, he turned to his right. There was an entrance into another room which branched off from the kitchen, an open doorway about one pony wide.
"Spike?" The voice rose to a desperate pitch. There was no mistaking that it was coming through the doorway. "Spike! Spike, it's Sc--It's Scootaloo!"
He heard the name-- her name-- and he remembered the library. The whole conversation. The whole reason he came here in the first place. The terror in her voice became his own.
"Scootaloo..." he whispered. He crossed the kitchen, bumping into the corner of the table in his haste. Any remaining sense of hesitation evaporated into the heavy air. "Hold on, I'm coming! I'm coming..."
He ran into the room.
"Spike..." He heard Scootaloo's voice from within. His head did a series of double takes as he panned from side to side, taking in his new surroundings, but he couldn't see her.
"Where are you?"
"Here!" she gasped out. "Over h-here, aagh..."
Scootaloo's low moan could be heard from the far corner, obscured from his view behind a large armchair. He responded right away, taking three running steps into the living room, around the coffee table in the middle...
The sight before him paralyzed his diaphragm, and for a second he found himself incapable of speech or breath. Balled up in the corner, shivering and shuddering with quiet sobs, was Scootaloo.
"Scoot..."
She weakly lifted her head, looking back at him with one eye. The other had been swollen shut, surrounded and buried under a mass of blue and black flesh. She clutched one foreleg to her stomach, cradling it under the elbow and holding it still against her body, which was so mottled with blue and black lumps that it was difficult to see the gamboge coat underneath. A puddle of blood had flowed from her crooked snout and onto the floor, smearing its crimson stain onto the right side of her head.
When she saw Spike there, Scootaloo brought a trembling foreleg up to shield her face, shrinking into an even tighter ball.
"Don't look at me..." she whimpered. "Don't..."
"Oh my gosh, Scootaloo!" Spike ran over to her, paying her words no heed as his vision blurred with hot tears. The sudden movement made her flinch away from him, covering her head with one foreleg while the other remained tucked at her waist.
"Don't..." she coughed, gritting her teeth together with pain. "Spike--"
He ignored her, getting down on his hands and knees by her side, scrambling over the carpet until his head was next to hers. She winced at the feeling of his breath on her cheek.
"Scootaloo, what happened? Oh my gosh..." he reached out to her, ever so lightly placing his hand on the side of her neck. The touch made her jerk away with a small cry, thumping lightly into the wall. Spike took his hand back as though he had placed it on a stovetop.
"Don't t-touch me..." she pleaded, scrunching up even tighter into the corner. "Please..."
"I'm not gonna hurt you," Spike assured her in a near whisper. He leaned in closer, reaching out to her again, this time even more slowly than before. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, shh... It's okay..."
He touched her mane, which was matted together with blood and sweat. Scootaloo tensed up slightly at the touch, but did not try to move away. He pushed down on her mane as gently as he could until his palm was resting on the back of her neck. He kept his hand in place.
"I'm here. I'm here for you." The vibrations of her quivering body traveled up his arm. "Okay? I'm here to help you..."
Scootaloo's head did not come up from the bloody carpet, but eventually, her cheek rubbed against the floor in a nod of understanding. Noticing it, Spike dared to brush his hand down her neck, fingers sifting through her blood-soaked mane. Scootaloo did not put up any more resistance to his touch, still sobbing quietly.
Spike's face inched forward so that it was right next to hers. Her one good eye peered at him from the floor.
"Scoot... who did this to you?"
Spike's question elicited a whole new bout of sobs from the pegasus filly. Using the leg that wasn't tucked against her chest, she pointed behind him.
"I broke m-mom's lamp," she said. "Dad got really mad and..."
Tears leaked out of her closed eyes. Spike whipped his head around. Sure enough, on the floor next to the end table, beside a red armchair, lay what appeared to be bits and pieces of shattered ceramic lying on the floor. Spike's stomach felt like it was going to fall out onto the carpet.
"Your dad did this, Scoot?" He asked with great apprehension, his hand never stopping its gentle caress of her mane and neck. Scootaloo hesitated before nodding once.
...maybe something else is going on. Something at her home...
"Okay, okay, uhh... And where is he? Is he still here?" He looked over his shoulder instinctively, feeling a cold shiver travel from head to tailtip. "Where did he go?"
Scootaloo moaned. "I don't know." She shook her head. "I-I don't know where he went..."
Spike wasn't sure if he should be relieved or even more afraid.
"Uhh, okay... alrighty then, I, uh..." he shuffled forward until his knees were touching the edges of the red puddle under her head. "C-can you stand up?"
Scootaloo shook her head again. "N-no... My leg hurts really bad..."
She pointed down at her belly with her red-smeared snout. Spike took his hand off of her neck and sat up on his knees, panning down her body. A gasp escaped him as he noticed a massive black bruise just below her elbow that was swelling up into a balloon. The last time he'd seen something like that, it had been when Rainbow Dash had fractured her wing...
"Can you move it?"
"No..."
Spike swallowed a knot of warm phlegm that was forming in his throat. He nodded to her in reassurance to keep his own fear at bay.
"Alright, umm... I'm gonna be right back, okay? I'm gonna go get help..." he told her. Scootaloo nodded fervently, choking on another sob.
He only had enough time to get to one foot.
A click. The squeaking groan of the hinges and the sound of the door striking the wall. A stallion's gruff growls.
Scootaloo's horrified whisper chilled him to the bone.
"Hide!"
...
Rainbow Dash had made it to the school in only a matter of minutes. But when you started a race long after all of the other contestants had already crossed the finish line, it didn't matter how fast you went. You still came out a failure.
She should've known. School ended hours ago, and she should've known that it was much too late in the day for Miss Cheerilee to still be here. No lights were lit, but oddly enough, the door was still open just a crack. However, when she walked in, there were neither students nor teachers in any of the empty desks. She banged her head against the wall.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she hit the wall to punctuate every repetition. Rainbow Dash didn't care that it made her feel dizzy, or that it hurt. At this point, she wanted it to hurt.
She left the empty schoolhouse with her tail tucked in between her legs. Head throbbing, she flapped her wings lazily, legs dangling in the air as she ascended higher and higher...
"Rainbow Dash!"
The cyan pegasus halted her ascent. She snapped her head up and looked around, to see two ponies standing a short distance away from her in the schoolyard. Twilight and Miss Cheerilee.
"Uhh... Rainbow Dash? Are you okay?" Twilight asked. "You don't look so good."
But Rainbow Dash wasn't looking at her. Her focus was entirely on Miss Cheerilee. Both ponies' pleasantly surprised expressions were about the same as they stared at each other.
"Rainbow Dash... I wasn't expecting to see you here," said Miss Cheerilee. Rainbow Dash's mouth moved, but no words came out. "I'm sorry... I was looking for Scootaloo earlier, and I... well, I wanted to ask if you knew where she was..."
Rainbow Dash tilted her head back and bit her lip.
"Heheh, yeah... I was actually gonna ask you for some help with that."
...
Spike pressed his body against the chair, keeping his head low. Terror affected his senses as he listened to Scootaloo's father's hooves clopping on the kitchen floor and every loud, drunken shout the stallion expelled. There was a clattering thud from the other room as a chair toppled over.
"Daaaargh!" An anguished cry made him cringe. Spike slid further behind the chair. A tear trickled down his own face with fear.
He was trapped, and the only thing he could hope for at the moment was that this crazy stallion wouldn't come into the room.
He peered over his shoulder. Scootaloo was shaking visibly, curled up and keeping herself in a tight ball. She winced at every loud sound her father made, and her eyes were glued to the open doorway, waiting for him to come inside. Waiting for him to see her.
The filly's battered face at last turned to Spike. From his place on the carpet, his eyes burned into hers.
All he gave her was a smile. It wasn't wide, and it wasn't for very long. He didn't even show any teeth.
But she understood.
The noise came to a sudden stop. To Spike, it was so unexpected that for a moment, he wondered if her father had left the room. But just as he entertained the idea of peeping over the top of the chair, he heard something else. Something that confused him almost as much as it kept his nerves on edge.
Crying. Spike squinted, trying to decide if he was actually hearing correctly, but the stallion's blubbering cries were unmistakable. But it only took a short while for those cries to mingle in with more enraged howls, and the crying faded into the background.
The crinkling crash of shattered glass made the two of them flinch as something was thrown against the wall. Scootaloo tried her best to stay quiet, but the loud sound triggered a soft cry of fright from her unwilling throat.
Spike could see the panic rising in her. He pushed himself up from the ground and crawled over to her, glancing once over his shoulder. To his relief, there was nopony there.
"Scoot, Scoot, shh," he comforted her with a barely audible whisper. "Calm down, okay, calm down, shh..."
He tried desperately to keep her sane, but Scootaloo's head only shook more rapidly, making an awful squelching pop every time her cheek hit the pool of sticky, dried blood.
"Just go," she implored in a broken whisper. Her body shook like a leaf. "I'm not worth it..."
But Spike did not even take the idea under consideration. "No! No, I'm not, I won't. I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise--"
Scootaloo's eyes widened with abject terror in the middle of his speech. And she wasn't looking at him.
Spike turned his head.
Her father stared right back at him.
...
"What do you mean?" Cheerilee appeared puzzled. "Weren't you just with her? Applebloom told me you were giving her a flying lesson today."
Twilight noticed as Rainbow Dash shrank away from them both, drawing a circle in the dirt after landing back on the ground. It reminded her of the time when she had first met Fluttershy during her first day in Ponyville.
"Heh, I, uh, yeah, I mean... I was, but... something happened."
The last phrase was vague enough to bring any image, horrific or otherwise, to the imagination. Naturally, Cheerilee opted for the worst case scenario.
"Something happened? What? Is Scootaloo okay? She didn't get hurt, did she?" The questions rattled off her tongue like rapidfire.
Rainbow Dash grimaced. She lowered her head, bending at the knees. "Uhh, not exactly..."
"Not exactly?" Twilight spoke now. "What do you m-- What's going on, Rainbow Dash?"
Their pressing inquiries sounded more like interrogations to Dash's ears. Already in such a fragile state of mind, she couldn't take it any more.
"Hold on, hold on! Just gimme a second, will ya?"
Twilight and Cheerilee were taken aback by Rainbow Dash's sudden change in tone. The cyan pegasus looked and sounded like she was on the verge of a meltdown. She turned her face away in shame.
"Sorry, girls... it's just that, well... I screwed up. Hard. And... I came here because I wanted to ask you, Cheerilee, if-- if you knew where Scootaloo lived."
...
Spike's tongue turned to cotton.
"What the...the Tart'rus 're you?" The stallion slurred.
At the sight of Scootaloo's father, standing in the doorway with bloodshot eyes, Spike began to tremble. Her father was a head taller than many pegasus stallions he'd seen before, comparable to Big McIntosh in size. Huge.
Spike turned his body around and stepped to his feet, putting himself in front of Scootaloo.
"S-S... Spike." The second he felt himself stuttering, he made a conscious effort to keep it under control. He walked back one step, closing the space between himself and Scootaloo as much as possible. The stallion's lip curled up in what appeared to be disgust.
"Spike? Who the... An' who're you... doin' in my house, lizard?" A guttural growl accompanied his question. Footclaws digging into the carpet to steady himself, Spike mustered the courage to respond.
"I'm her friend."
The answer was matter of fact and delivered with an air of confidence. But it was all a pretense. Under the surface, Spike's insides felt like they were filled with lead. "I'm Scootaloo's friend."
Her father's contemptuous sneer turned to a snarl. He approached them, walking his full frame into the living room.
"She ain't allowed t' have friends in my house," he declared. Behind Spike, Scootaloo whimpered. "I think you need t' leave."
The tension in the room was almost tangible in the air. Palpitations from Spike's heart became so intense that they could be felt in his fingertips. He chanced a backward glance at Scootaloo.
He saw her bruises. He saw the arm she tucked against her waist. The blood that still dripped from her busted snout and stained her swollen face. He saw the way she cringed, shivered, and sobbed from pain and fear. He turned around...
...and he saw the stallion who caused it all.
"I said, you need t' leave."
Something happened to Spike in that moment. Any fear he had been feeling only moments before began to fade into the background. His hands clenched into fists. Neck muscles tightened, and his lip twitched upward into a snarl. His belly rose and fell with shuddering breaths, and he looked up from the floor.
"No."
The word hovered in the empty space between them, floating in the air. Her father's brow furrowed downward, and anger crossed with disbelief on his features.
"What?"
"No. I won't leave her here. You'll just hurt her again."
The stallion said nothing for a moment. But he craned his neck forward, wobbling slightly on his legs. "You listen here, I said--"
"I know. I know what you said," Spike cut him off. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "No."
"No!"
Something brushed against the back of his leg. Startled, Spike looked down at the floor to see Scootaloo's hoof on his ankle. The girl regarded him with pleading eyes.
"No, Spike, don't! J-Just... just go, okay? I'll be fine..." the last line was sobbed out. "Just go, please, I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
Despite her begging, Spike wouldn't listen. He pulled his leg away and advanced a step forward, toward her slowly approaching father. The pegasus stallion bared his yellowed teeth.
"If you won't leave, I'll MAKE you leave!" he hollered.
But Spike pushed all of his fear into the background, replacing it with righteous rage. The whites of his eyes seemed to cloud over with red mist, and he showed her father his fangs, adopting a fighting stance.
"No. You won't."
The two opponents halted momentarily, squaring off. Each surveyed the other. One large, one small. One angry, and one furious. Scootaloo huddled behind Spike, whispering her pleas to deaf ears, helpless to do anything.
"Spike, dad, don't--"
They did.
Scootaloo's father stumbled forward with a flap his wings, and in a single instant, he crossed the room. Spike had only a second to react as the stallion's forelegs reached out to grab him...
He lurched forward, razor sharp incisors bared, and sank his teeth into her father's leg.
An agonized scream ripped out of the father's throat as Spike's jewel-crushing jaws clamped down on his fetlock. In a howl of rage, he spun around and slammed Spike into the wall. But Spike only bit down harder, tasting blood and feeling it dribble down his throat and chest. He dug his claws into the stallion's leg and drew more blood, hanging on for dear life as he felt himself being lifted up in the air, only to be slammed into the wall again.
Spike clasped his eyes shut in immense pain, feeling his teeth loosen in his mouth. Scootaloo's piercing screams sounded distant, miles away as dizziness overcame him. The vice-like grip of his powerful jaws weakened as her father tossed him high above the floor with a wild roar.
The last impact made a dent in the drywall. The force of the hit took Spike's breath away, dislodging his teeth in the process. Two of them remained in the stallion's leg as Spike crumpled to the floor, bloody claws reaching up to cover his mouth.
Scootaloo cried uncontrollably and closed her eyes, but she was forced to listen to everything. Her father's screams bounced around the inside of her skull; the crunching, splitting thud of Spike being rammed violently into the wall over and over again were impossible to block out.
"Stop! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please stop..."
Her father, at last free from the dragon's horrible bite, rolled onto the floor with an ear-splitting howl, shocked and unable to take his eyes off of the rivulets of scarlet streaming down his leg. Only a few hoofsteps away, Spike lay in a barely moving heap, seeing doubles. He raised his head, but the outline of his foe writhing on the ground was little more than a blur. Spike groaned, rolling onto his belly and pushing himself up onto his knees.
When the two frames of Scootaloo's father slid back together to form one image, he was sitting up against the sofa. Getting back up.
Even after all of the blows he'd suffered, the red mist of war never left Spike's sight. The battle was still on. Dripping red fangs showed themselves from between his curled lips.
"AaaaaAAAAARGH!" Spike charged headlong at his target with a bestial warcry, extending his hands and claws outward.
He did not see his opponent's wild swing at his unprotected head. It connected just behind the jaw, snapping Spike's head to the left. The strength of the blow lifted him off his feet. Spike did not even cry out as he careened through the air, landing hard on his side and rolling over twice before being stopped by the wall.
Stars danced in the darkness. The world seemed to throw him this was and that, like a sailboat caught amidst a stormy sea in the dead of night, and it was as if the ocean's cold waters had turned his scales numb. He saw and heard nothing, nothing save the ringing in his ears.
Then his vision began to return. The sea's waves smoothed out into a calm, rippling surface, and the shrieking whine faded into a soft buzz. A white painted wall was the first thing he saw, and the throbbing ache of his head was the first thing he felt. He rolled over onto his back, dazed but at last regaining consciousness.
The second thing he saw was the stallion's shadow looming over him. More on instinct than on reflex, Spike hardly managed to bring his arms up in time to protect his head before her father was upon him.
The stallion was past any form of coherence as he began to rain blows down on the baby dragon's entire body, striking anywhere without discrimination. Using his unmangled foreleg, he rammed Spike up against the wall while the other hung limp.
Spike peeked up, watching her father rear back on his hind legs, readying for a one-hooved stomp down on his covered head. Through the haze of pain, Spike's reflexes were still sharp as his claws. He quickly rolled over, dodging the massive hoof that slammed into the carpet right where his head had been, and lashed out blindly with his clawed hand.
It connected with the stallion's muzzle. Spike did not see it, but the second he felt the contact his fingers curled inward, digging into the skin. His efforts were rewarded with a distressed yell, followed by a swift strike to his abdomen. Spike jerked away, falling to the floor with a flap of hide still attached to his claws.
Unable to breathe, Spike clutched his stomach and curled into a ball, mouth gaping open in silent gasps. He didn't move.
Vocal cords splitting in a fell roar, Scootaloo's father raised his hoof, standing on both hind legs, preparing to deliver the final, crushing blow to Spike's head. The baby dragon brought one trembling hand up to shield his face, shutting his eyes tight.
"NOOO!"
The buzzing of somepony's wings were followed by something careening into the back of his legs. The stallion, balance unstable with intoxication, tumbled off to the side. There was a loud crash as he slammed onto the coffee table.
"Ah! AAA!" Scootaloo fell face down and landed on her injured leg, shrieking in agony. But the pain was so great that she began to black out mid-scream. The lancing, searing burn turned into little more than a tingle, her chin hit the floor...
She fell silent. Unconscious.
Spike had been waiting for the strike. Waiting for the darkness to take him to a place where he wouldn't come back. But when he opened his eyes, he was still there, bleeding on the same floor, in the same house. Scootaloo lay lifeless beside him.
And with the same hatred burning in his eyes, the same stallion, despite all of Spike's best efforts, was still getting back up.
In that moment, something happened to Spike. Something changed. A heat grew in the pit of his belly, starting with a single spark and erupting into an inferno. It spread, traveling up into his chest, into his throat, into his mouth, to the backs of his blood covered teeth...
He opened his mouth to roar. It came out as a torrent of yellow flame.
Fire cascaded over the stallion's head and shoulders. The sound her father made was like nothing Spike had ever heard.
"DAAAAAAGH! AAAAGH!"
The odor of charred flesh and feathers permeated the room. Mesmerized, Spike couldn't tear his eyes away from the terrible scene he'd just caused, watching her father take flight with burning wings, tumbling through the air... and out of the room.
That was when Spike noticed the live flames on the carpet, starting in a tight circle under the table and quickly expanding into a wide ring straight toward him and Scootaloo. He gave a sharp intake of breath.
Scootaloo didn't move. Still reeling from shock, Spike rolled onto his back, wincing at a stabbing pain in his ribs, and crawled over to Scootaloo on all fours.
"Scoot!" He yelled her name. Not even a flicker of her eyelids answered him. He grabbed her shoulder and gave her a hard shake, but Scootaloo remained motionless.
Spike's eyes darted between her and the growing fire. Panic filled his lungs, and he began to hyperventilate.
"Come on, Scoot! We gotta get out of here!" He shook her again. And again. Nothing. The tongues of flame licked hungrily at the dirty carpet, forming a tiny wall of fire that threatened to block them in.
Spike had only one thing left he could do.
"Scoot? Scoot, hold on, okay?" He slid one hand under her head, and the other beneath her flank. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'm gonna get you out..."
He tapped into every reserve of strength he possibly had left. One foot stamped into the floor, and then the other. The veins popped out of his arms, legs and neck, fit to burst.
The baby dragon lifted Scootaloo's body up from the ground. Gravity pulled back down, latching onto her battered frame, but he kept hold of her in his stubby arms.
"I got you," He barely managed to whisper to her unresponsive face. "You're okay... you're okay..."
He teetered from side to side. A spear felt like it had impaled him through the chest.
He kept walking.
"I got you..."
One foot in front of the other. He kept walking, past the fire.
"You're okay..."
Two steps, breathe in. Two steps, breathe out.
He kept walking, through the doorway, past the kitchen. The fire devoured the carpet where he and Scootaloo had been. The heat wafted through the air and onto his back.
His tendons ripped, and his shoulders popped. Two steps, breathe in, two steps breathe out. Blood from his mouth dripped onto the filly in his arms.
"I got you!"
Still keeping his hold on her, he twisted the door knob in his fingertips and pulled it open. Scootaloo slid down toward the ground in the process, but Spike flexed every muscle in his body, expelling one final howl of pain and exertion to keep her in his grasp.
He stumbled down the tiny porch, tripped on the first stair, and landed on the dirt with a hard thud.
Blackness clouded his vision. The world slipped away from him.
He fell into unconsciousness, his body shielding Scootaloo in one last act of protection.
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Hope this new chapter is good, guys.
I loved it!
it was great
Ugh, my poor little heart. This was wonderful. Spikey Wikey, you little hero <3
It's VERY good, and I'm looking forward to the next chapter. Your portrayal of Spike's emotions was perfect, and your writing shows obvious skill.
Good lad!
Dashie's not giving up on Scoot, is she?
That's it, Spike. Give in to the dark side:
wow. this has developed a lot lately
Random remark: Spike is actually INCREDIBLY resilient, at least in the official comics. As far as fighting a large, drunk and angry pony, I don't think much would have changed, other than him keeping all his teeth. It's up to interpretation, though.
Doesn't need a gore tag. Good chapter. Things are finally coming together and Scoots needs to live.
Please update sooooooon •~• this chapter is amazing
and the feels are just gahh
/10
But yeah so far amazing story
Alt. chapter title:
up-ship.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/no-3.jpg
Epic Chapter! Loved it! No gore.
THANK YOU! Spike not only kicked this prick's ass; but he also raked it with his claws, impaled it with his fangs, and LIT THE DAUGHTER BUCKER ON FIRE! You have made me so very happy! I wish Spike would do stuff like this to villains in the actual show.
Therefore, I am going to give you my heartfelt apology for the way I talked about Spike in my previous comments. I should've known that Spike was going to play a role in this story somewhere. That whole exercise plot was just a throwaway tease to keep us waiting for Spike to go into awesome mode. And boy did this dragon deliver! Go, Spike, Go!
You have been and always will be an incredible writer.
Go get 'em, Spike!
And no, this doesn't rate Gore yet, at least to me.
-This is a very epic chapter!
-I say no to a gore tag cause' this is PG 13 compared to the ones I've seen.
-This was great, but if you wanted the fight scene improved, have Spike smash a half empty bottle of booze on the stallion's face earlier in the fight.
-Are Spike and Scootaloo going to be intensive care roomies? Are they going to be BFF's assuming they survive?
-Will someone else find them or will it be Rainbow, Twilight and Cheerilee?
-Did Scootaloo fly across the room and save Spike?
-This beats Sir Spike vs the diamond dogs by a long shot.
-I bet Spike is going to get praised by all the ladies.
I'm gonna be the man-out here and say that a gore tag should be placed here. Simply for the fact that the one with the most grievous of injures is a child. It was really uncomfortable to read the descriptions of the way her father left her practically crippled, mane matted with blood, swollen with black and blue bruises, and lying in a pool of her own blood.
Tag it, bro.
badass. Needs more explosions
I'd say no to the gore tag but I am by far the wrong one to ask as I tend to seek out gore fics...
Fire should have been the first thing Spike sent at him. It would have been richly deserved!
So I see I am not the only one who has that thought about Spike's teeth. :D
Man, I said it last chapter, but you really like torturing the young characters. Sweetie Belle, Scoots and now Spike too. I wonder what the future has in store for Apple Bloom?
An exciting chapter, I really enjoyed reading it. Hopefully RD and the others will show up in time. Also, burned alive, that has to be a horrible way to go, even for that monster.
-Lumino
Remember: In the dark.
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I have finals. Not happening till later, bro.
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If I was spike I would have atleast tried stomping the flames out, i mean, he can swim in lava so im sure some fire wouldent do his feet any harm. Still a great chapter though, not much into this story type but you have got me hooked so keep up the good work!
HI! I'm here with the Good Grammar Directory. This story has been approved and added to our folders.
So Scotaloo flew across the room to save her protector. Nice
The fight reminded me of Godzilla vs Baragon. I wasn't thinking about it until spike made his move.
Hell yeah Spike.
Spike is a badass.
Oh shit
Oh shit!
Oh shit! He was gonna.... OMG, Spike almost died! What is wrong with Scootaloo's father!?
It may be better for your writing if, instead of using lifeless, you used another word, perhaps limp. Lifeless means dead, not passed out. You used it like this in the other story too.
Jesus-titty-forincatin' Christ. That was intense.
Hot damn, Spike is a badass. After this chapter, he is a hatchling no longer. With that first breath of destructive fire, he is now a full-fledged drake. And he ascended to drakehood in a manner any dragon would be proud of: in combat, through blood and flame. Him carrying Scootaloo to safety through a rapidly burning house was just icing on the cake.
All in all, you done crafted one hell of an epic chapter here, good sir.
Spike is best dragon ever.
Every spike hater should read this one chapter right here and everyone will convert to the spike side.
fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/251/3/5/mlp__natg2___day_4__commander_spike_and_the_cmc__by_firebrandkun-d5dz5zc.jpg
I hope scoots dad burns for eternity
Spike is my fucking hero now.
spike will either go to jail, get a medal, or possibly both for killing that SOB.
Apple Bloom
______________
Definitely not meriting gore. Gore is ...
Well. Elfin Lied is Gore. Gantz is Gore. Cupcakes that's Gore. This isn't anywhere near gory. Gore is stuff like excessive blood shed, mutilated bodies out the ying-yang, and oceans of blood / organs.
This was a tiny bit of nibbling in self defense.
Well that got really intense. Shame though because I can never take injuries seriously in this show. What with all the slapstick humor and all. It's really hard to make pain or even physics of violence believable from the show, because almost everyone in an invincible juggernaut.
Holy... crap... this was worth the few minuets of lost sleep time.
next scene
twilight making panicked horse noises as she runs around
:P