• Published 9th Oct 2013
  • 2,368 Views, 71 Comments

A Simple Story - Sabellion



The not so simple love story of Rarity and Spike, in their later years.

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Moving Forward

There was blood.

It was all over the floor, all over the door, and all over her face. It was warm and sticky, sliding like rain down and across her muzzle. It ran across his body from the places where the dull white like old paint stuck through purple scales, where pink and red flesh spilled along lines of pale green and out from in between his teeth like angry words made into flesh.

She was stepping back, the world was spinning and pulling away. This was a dream. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t be-

It was the crash of thunder that awoke her, the white flash etching itself across the floor. She pulled him inside, rolling him over. “SPIKE!” Rarity yelled, shaking his shoulders. She looked down at his chest. Even through the lavender scales she could see the bruises.

She leaned in close, placing her ear to his chest. She heard the rattle like bones in a steel can pound into her ear and a weak little thump. Rarity looked back up at his face, rubbing her hoof across his cheek as she whispered, “You’re going to be okay, Spike. Just…just hang on.”

Rarity sprung to her hooves, galloping outside. Rain pushed against her as the wind cut through her. She felt the coils of her mane grow heavy, her hooves adorn themselves with shoes of mud, grass and dirt as she ran around the side of her home to grab the cart.

She pulled the tarp up and over, levitating the front bars onto her back. She began to pull, and pull but it did not budge. It could not budge. She looked through the strands of her mane that clung to the front of her face. The wheels-they hadn’t been tended to in so long, and the mud…it would never move by her own physical force. Her horn sputtered to life, the round slabs of wood finally moving forward, but it was accompanied by the screech of splintered wood and fell to the side, broken.

Rarity exhaled sharply enough that one could be forgiven for mistaking it for a laugh. Her jaw hung open as the wheel floated towards her, the cart crashing to the ground. Air was pushed in and out of her lungs, raspy with dire uncertainty. Her eyes wide as she looked around, for something, anything.

“No, no, no.” Rarity whispered, the uncertain smile spread across her teeth.

Oh God, what now? Carry him? I couldn’t-

You must.

Inside her head the storm was dulled, the words spoken like a dirge.

You know what to do. Rarity clenched her teeth and shook the water that was collecting in her eyes.

She ran back inside, her coat now completely wet and cold. Spike lay where she put him, his breath coming in like dry leaves. She rushed over to him, grabbing his head into her fore hooves as she said, “Everything’s going to be okay, just please, hold on.”

Rarity’s mind ran and ran and ran, the lightning striking every failed plan. There had to be something to make this easier. There had to be. Spike coughed, blood gurgling in the back of his throat. Rarity turned him on his side as it pooled out around his cheeks. Thunder shook the house once more.

She looked outside, through the door that was swinging wildly left and right, where water was mixing with the edges of the blood turning into spirals and drops. She had no choice.

“You’re going to be fine, Spike.” Rarity said as she hoisted him onto her back. His legs dragged along the ground as she galloped out the door and into the darkness. Her hooves clipped and clopped across the cobblestone streets, and she could feel the sickly warm liquid spill across down her neck, across her mane. It ran down her sides, onto her hooves. Her vision was clouded by hair and rain and shadow, he was heavy and she wasn’t sure she could carry him all the way. She bounced him up onto her shoulders again as he began to slide, and he was mumbling something.

She felt his claws dig into her shoulders. She yelped as they penetrated the skin, his muscles flexing around her form.

We’re nearly there. That’s right, just hold on.

It stung, and her essence began to spill out from underneath his hands, the dull ache bubbling in the back of her mind. She had to keep going. He wasn’t going to die. Not while she had something to say, something to do about it.

His grip began to slip. Rarity cried out as his talons pulled themselves from her flesh and she looked over his shoulder. She couldn’t feel him breathing anymore.

“We’re almost there, don’t you give up on me now.” Rarity yelled.

The Hospital appeared over the edge of the horizon, nestled amongst darkened flowers pelted by the unforgiving elements. Rarity’s eyes welled up and added to the drops of rain as she laughed. All of her muscles burned as she pulled the dragon up to the door. She slammed against it. It was locked.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” She shouted over the storm. “Please, please, please.”

She could see an attendant look up from behind the desk and slam a button, but she had already turned to place the dragon down on the floor. She grabbed his face between her hooves as she shook her head violently, her vision blurring to dark colors and bright edges illuminated by the fluorescent lighting.

“Spike!” Rarity said. “SPIKE!” The doors clattered open behind her. She held him close, he was cold-so cold.

“By Celestia, what is that thing?”

Rarity turned over her shoulder, aghast.

“It doesn’t matter, get it in here. Grab a Gurney.” Rarity was pushed aside as they grabbed his mangled, lifeless body off the ground and took him away. They didn’t mind her as she followed along. A pony in a large white coat ran up, a notebook and pen scribbling mad at his side.

“Species?”

“Dragon, sir.”

He barely took a cursory glance as they marched, before saying “Looks like multiple fractures, at least one compound. Swelling of the face, and labored breathing accompanied by blood from the mouth. Most likely symptomatic of severe internal hemorrhaging, maybe a collapsed lung. Get Theatre B ready.”

“Sir, his life signs are almost nonexistent, and I can’t find a vein underneath the scales.” The nurse at his side said as she fumbled with a needle. The doctor grabbed it from her and peered at the dragon’s arm and jabbed it in.

“Send a priority message to Canterlot General. They have a dragon specialist. He’ll at least walk us through the procedures. Is Theatre B ready?”

They turned around a corner, but Rarity was stopped by an arm that crossed her chest.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Rarity looked to her side as a Nurse held her back.

“That’s my friend. I need to see that he’s safe.” Rarity said.

“The Doctor’s got a hold of him.” The nurse said. “He’ll be fine.”

She looked over the nurse’s shoulder, through the thick pane of glass where his gurney drew to a stop. Frantically ponies moved around him, pulling an overhead light down across his chest. For a moment his eyes opened, squinting through the light as he turned towards her.

A curtain was drawn over the windows. She continued to stare after the after image burned into the back of her eyes, drawn into her mind. She stared at it in her mind for hours, as the world kept moving and revolving around her. Her gaze like iron into the distance she barely realized she was sitting in another room some time later.

“There is a restroom around the corner ma’am, if you feel the need to clean yourself up a little bit”

Rarity blinked rapidly.

What? Where? Oh.

She regained her surroundings as she looked towards the counter where the voice came from. “Huh?”

“Uhh…have you seen yourself, ma’am?” the attendant said.

Rarity looked down at her hooves for a moment, seeing the now almost black rivulets that streamed across her coat like cracks on the sidewalk. She took the moment to look around finally, seeing the two other ponies in the room turn their terrified gazes away from her as she turned towards them.

She stood herself up and walked in the direction the attendant said.

“Other side, miss.”

“Thank you.” Rarity said as she hobbled inside. This place was strange. It was clean, and fresh, as though no pony had ever step hoof onto the crème tiles and white caulk. Too clean, too fresh. Like a corpse in the casket it presented itself in such a pleasant way as to be upsetting. Why else would you go through such trouble to hide something unless something was wrong? The door closed behind her, the loud click of the handle resonating off the tiles.

She noted that on side of the bathroom there were toilets and on the other, showers. She climbed into one and drew close the little curtain. She turned the knob as the water began to cascade down.

Rarity groaned, feeling the warmth penetrate and slide across her coat. She held her face directly into the stream, breathing in the clean, steamy air. It was probably washing off all her make up, but from the quick glance she got from the mirror on the way here, it probably was an improvement.

She turned her head down, letting the water flow through her mane, watching as all the dirt and grime spiraled down the drain. Finally she turned to let it wash what was on her back away.

She yipped in surprise as she felt her shoulder catch fire. She looked down, wincing as she tenderly pulled at the claw marks that were still bleeding, two hours later. She finished washing herself off before stepping out and back into the lobby. Her hair hung around her haphazardly as she tapped on the desk.

“How is he?” Rarity asked.

The attendant said, “He’s still in emergency surgery.”

Rarity’s face fell. “But, they think he’ll be alright. Still, I wouldn’t expect him to come out until morning. Why don’t you go home and rest?”
“I’m not very sure that I can.” Rarity said, shifting her weight. She hissed as she felt the wounds on her shoulder reopen.

“By Celestia!” The attendant said, “Ma’am, you might need to have that looked at. It appears to be a pretty serious gash.”

“It’s fine.” Rarity said.

“I’ll call one of the nurses to come out here for a moment. She’ll decide if it’s just fine.” The attendant stepped away from the counter.

Rarity soon found herself on a little hard plastic table, lying on her back as a little cotton swab rubbed into her coat. The nurse was caught in her task as she began to thread a little needle.

“So, how’d you get these?” the nurse asked as she brought it down and into he skin like a judge’s gavel. Rarity looked away towards the inspirational poster on the wall, reading the words over and over again.

“A dragon.” Rarity said. “My friend.”

“Oh, I heard about that. You’re the crazy mare that dragged him all the way here?” The mare said as she tied the first little string. Rarity could barely feel it. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Rarity said. They drew silence around themselves like curtains as the Nurse finished her work.

The Nurse pat Rarity gently before helping her back into the lobby, saying, “Hopefully that’s enough commotion for one night. Just keep them clean and come back in at the end of the week to get them removed. It’ll look like nothing ever happened.”

As she walked gingerly as she could across the tile floors there was a cacophonous crack that broke through the room. Two lights spiraled into together into a little ball for but a moment before exploding outward to reveal a mare, wings drawn tightly around her. She extended herself outwards, her wings spreading out, and her crown gleaming even in this bleached light. Her bloodshot, puffy eyes caught Rarity’s. There was a gasp as the two ponies other than her immediately bowed over.

“Twilight?!”

“IS IT HIM?” she breathed out her voice straining like a bridge. Rarity gave a curt nod.

“Is it really him!?” Twilight shouted, as she nearly tackled the white mare. Her hooves curled around her shoulders, digging, kneading as her eyes searched for truth. Rarity swallowed hard as she nodded, a smile spreading across her face. They both started to laugh as saline formed around the edges of their vision. Twilight hugged Rarity around the neck. She twirled them around, laughing pure and true.

Feels like forever since I’ve seen that smile.

They landed back on their hooves as Twilight turned towards the attendant. “What happened to him? Is he okay? Can I see him? How did he get here?” she said.

“Princess-” the attendant said.

“Who’s the doctor in charge here?” Twilight continued as the attendant sighed, “Does he have the proper credentials to take care of a dragon? What’s your name? Wha-“

“Princess!” the attendant snapped.

“Yes?”

“I can answer your questions, but please, one at a time.” The attendant said. “I’ll start by saying Miss Rarity brought him here about three and a half hours ago, and he is currently in surgery. They’ve contacted an expert from Canterlot who is helping them currently.”

This did little to help the Alicorn.

“Just sit down, Twilight. I’ll explain everything.” Rarity said, pulling her to a chair.

-----X-----

“You carried him all the way here?” Twilight said, flabbergasted.

“What else was I to do, Twilight?” Rarity said. Their discussion had gone on for quite some time now. The first cracks of morning across the blue grasses of the hills shot out, orange, pink and yellow. Twilight scoffed as she shook her head.

“Why did he come to you? I just-I don’t get it I thought-“

The doors from the emergency room swung open, and the doctor with bags under his eyes and a smile across his face lumbered out, dragging his hooves across the floor. “Princess Twilight Sparkle?” he said. Twilight jumped from her seat.

“He’s out of surgery now-but we induced a coma to help his body rest and heal through the first part of the process. You two can go back and see him for a little bit if you want. Follow me.”

They followed his long hoofsteps, as he led them deep into the stomach of the building until they found themselves in a long room. There were ten beds, all but two were empty. Light blue blankets soft and scratchy hung over every bed, accompanied by a slew of medical equipment. On the left, curtains were pulled around a bed, hiding whatever lay within.

The doctor pulled them towards it and swept open the curtain. Rarity felt a hole open in her chest as her heart dropped.

“By Celestia…” Twilight muttered as they closed in around him. His bruised face was covered with a ventilator, his wings were drawn around him, covered in white fiberglass. His arms were thick with tubes and his chest was covered in bandages still warm with blood. His pectorals were a web of black and blue like a spider’s impression of midnight. Rarity placed her hoof over her mouth.

Twilight smiled weakly and spoke even softer. “Spike…”

She winced as her eyes traced his scars. Rarity didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t look at it anymore. She shook her head as she stepped back and away. She turned her back to him.

“Rarity?” Twilight said, looking over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Twilight. I just-I never wanted to see him like that.” Rarity said. “It hurts me to see him in such a shape.”

Twilight nodded, wrapping her wing around Rarity as she nodded to the doctor. They began their trek outwards. “You should get home and sleep.” Twilight said as they exited out into the pale blue dawn, the princess gazing deeply into it. Rarity grunted in reply as she rubbed her eyes and began to walk home, across the damp ground and back into her home. She didn’t even look at the floors as she collapsed on the sofa, immediately falling asleep.

-----X-----

“You’re not walking out of here”

“Are you going to stop me?” Spike said.

“I can bloody well try.” Dr. Stronghoof said, “You’ve ripped the muscles in your left calf and right thigh to shreds. You might be able to hobble a little bit, but the bad thing about being bipedal is that you really don’t get to move around with your only two legs injured.”
Spike conceded as he lay back down in his bed.

“Now, if you want to go outside for a little while that’s fine, but you will be getting in that wheelchair and you will be carted out of here. Understand?” the good doctor said.

“I-yes.” Spike said with a low growl. It had been five days. He’d been getting more and more irritable and he could feel it. It felt wrong, it buzzed in his mind like a fly, landing on him every few seconds and he didn’t know why. The walls in all of their blank eggshell white taunted him it seemed.

“Good!” Dr. Stronghoof said, “Now that’s taken care of I have a few other patients to attend to. The nurses will help you.”

Dr. Stronghoof stepped out the door, motioning to the two little mares outside to go and assist the massive dragon into the pitifully small wheelchair. One was a pale blue, the other a stark white. Her eyes were like sapphires. They were twinkling. With joy? No, it was hate and fear and-

His memories swallowed his senses.


“Then what is it? Is it that I’m not like you? That I’m a dragon, not a pony? A nightmarish monster?” his throat burned with every word. His muscles tingled with indignant rage it coursed through his veins like magma. Rain slammed against the side of the house, blurring the glass.

“Doctor!” The mare shouted, the incessant beeping of the heart monitor gaining speed like a tiger closing in its prey. He blinked, his pupils beginning to shrink, twitch as the sides pulled closer together. His talons dug into the sides of the bed, splintering the wood. Tubes and bandages began to pop off, and his wings expanded, a sickening crack resounding through the room as the cast split.

“YOU JUST WHAT!?” His hands, they longed to hold something. Crush it. Destroy it. They-

Doctor Stronghoof jabbed the needle into the dragon’s arm as nurses and aides struggled to hold him down. His muscles were surging, growing at an alarming rate. His teeth gripped the glass tube as his magic pushed the sedative in. The dragon relaxed. His pupils expanded into ovals once more as his eyes unfocused and fluttered, struggling to remain conscious.

“Keep him under surveillance. Get Dr. Tenderheart over her immediately.” Dr. Stronghoof said, “I’m ordering that he put onto a benzo drip for the time being. Get him patched back up and check for any more damage. We can’t let that happen again.”

His voice vibrated through his mind, the syllables blurred together. Everything was fading out, falling into shadow. Yet in that darkness he held onto something. He could see her eyes still-and he reached out. But she was gone.

-----X-----

He pulled himself out of sleep, gasping as he surfaced from the abysmal dark waters of thought. The room stopped spinning shortly after as he gripped the edge of the bed. His teeth cracked and ground against each other. His muscles were taught like steel as his heart pounded nails into his skull.

The door was creaking open. He heard the growl rumble and roll across the room before he realized it was himself. The hinges squeaked, the blinds shifted, the crinkle echoing into his head. One hoof now, two voices. They were speaking too slowly, he readied himself. Just in case.
“Spike.” The purple one said. He was in a dark room. There were screams like the smell of blood lingering in the air.

“Spike!”

He was being shaken. The little grey pony was below him, cowering. He-

“SPIKE!”

He blinked. Twilight was looking him in the eye. “Twi?” He whispered.

She nodded. He searched for words for a moment. “I...I was lost in my own head. Sorry.”

He had to compose himself. For her. She didn’t need to see him this way. A smile cracked his lips.

“Are you okay?” Twilight said.

“Fine.”

The doctor was behind her. “Well, I want you to see our resident psychologist, just in case.” He said.

“I’m fine. I don’t need to see-“

"Spike."

"What?" Spike said.

“For me?”

Spike looked at her. Why did his heart hurt so much? He dropped his eyes away from hers.

“For you.” Spike whispered and nodded. "Not sure what good it'll do."

The doctor spun around and walked out the door, motioning for the princess to come with him. Twilight ruffled his crest. Spike closed his eyes, but was surprised to feel something touch his forehead. He opened his eyes to be face to face with Twilight's chest, as she put her soft lips to his forehead. He closed his eyes again, letting it soak in before she walked out the door. He looked down, feeling his chest again be pierced by pitchforks and his thoughts become a cluttered attic, grey and distant.

Why were things so much more simple when she was around?

The door opened again. A little blue pony, with a salt and pepper mane entered into the room. Her horn glowed as a chair appeared beside her and she plopped herself into it. She began to speak. He heard the words but did not listen.

Hello. My name is Dr. Tenderhoof. I’m a psychologist and licensed therapist. I understand you’ve survived a terrible ordeal and I was hoping we could talk about that. Is that okay with you?

Spike’s eyes never wandered from whatever little space in the distance that he was staring at, far past the doctor that sat at his side. His nostrils flared, sucking in the oxygen from the tubes that led to the tank at his side, purging the stale breath he retained.

Mr. The Dragon? Do you not want to talk?

His eyes spoke for him as the momentarily darted towards the mare. She scribbled something onto her pad. He barred his teeth.

Do you remember what caused all of this in the first place? You were traveling with Princess Twilight Sparkle as her bodyguard and…

Her voice drained away. Twilight watched through the cracks in the blinds beside the door as he continued to simply stare. The doctor stood, shaking her head as she pushed outside to her. Her eyebrows wrestled each other in worry.

“Is he okay?” Twilight asked. She knew the answer.

“I don't know." Dr. Tenderhoof said, "Whatever happened to him is still eating him up on the inside though. What's more concerning is this." Dr. Tenderhoof said, as she flipped through her clipboard, revealing a few graphs. “Ever since he’s come out of the coma his epinephrine levels have been steadily increasing.”

“What should we do?” Twilight said, looking back at her best friend in all the world. He had not still not moved.

“Well, therapy is the first step with this type of thing. He needs to face what happened and accept it. I suggest he continue to see me for at least until his body is fully healed.” The doctor said.

“Okay.” Twilight said, placing her hoof on the window. “What did they do to you, Spike?”

Twilight saw Spike finally moved. They locked eyes, and his burnt through her. She had to look away. She wasn't sure, but she swore she saw fire deep in those inky pupils.

Author's Note:

Still writing this. Slowly. Hopefully I'll get faster with the new year and with time. No promises.