Broken Record

by Crosis

1. Somewhere in Time

1. Somewhere in Time

They say that life's a carousel

Spinning fast, you've got to ride it well…

…And they'll tell you black is really white

The moon is just the sun at night

Dio- Heaven and Hell

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s time. Are you ready to go?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know if he’s ready for this.”

“Do you think anyone could be? It’s only the fate of the world at stake.”

“Exactly! What if he can’t fix things? What if nothing changes?”

“Look at it this way. If he tries and fails, the universe gets destroyed. If we do nothing, the universe gets destroyed. It’s not as though he can make things any worse than they’ll already become.”

“Thanks. That wasn’t at all reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. With how long we’ve known one another, do you really think I would make light of a situation like this?”

“Point taken.”

“Now then, are you ready?”

“Why bother asking? It’s not like we have a choice.”

“Don’t be foolish. There’s always a choice. We chose him to set things right, and he’ll have to choose whether or not to accept that burden. You can be as fatalistic as you like, it doesn’t change the facts.”

“………”

“So again, are you ready?”

“Can I make a request first?”

“Anything.”

“Can you take all this away from him? Make him forget everything since he first met me? I… I don’t want him to remember what they did.”

“Very well.”

“Then do it.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a bright, cold evening in Ponyville. The town was still and quiet; no lights burned in the windows, no movement disturbed the streets. Only the rhythmic clicks of the town’s clock tower could be heard.

There was a loud *clunk* as the hour and minute hands shifted. Midnight. The muffled sound of gears and cogs came from the tower, and then the clock began to chime.

Twelve echoing rings sounded out in the night, and then silence again covered the Ponyville square. The minutes passed by one after another.

And then the clock began to chime again.

One…

Two…

Three…

And then the chimes ceased.

For the next several minutes, anypony looking at the clock tower would have thought nothing was amiss. The second hand continued its slow, clockwise journey, the minute hand gradually following. Perhaps some mechanical error had caused the bell’s repeat performance?

And then the minute hand jumped backwards.

When the hand struck midnight, the bell started to ring once more. This time, it had barely finished the second chime before the minute hand leapt back again. The ringing ceased; the hands did not. Instead, they continued to shift and jump in the opposite direction.

11:45

10:37

9:15

Clocks all over the world were reversing direction, ticking backwards in complete defiance of logic and sense. Their speed increased, the hands moving faster and faster until their movement blurred together with a droning buzz. Overhead, the moon traveled eastwards across the sky, its phases blurring between crescent, gibbous and full.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning sunlight streamed in through the window, disrupting the slumber of the young dragon within. Spike grumbled incoherently and rolled out of his bed, shooting a dirty look at the sun before climbing to his feet. His sleep-addled mind completely missed the fact that he’d been awakened by a rising sun through a westward window.

A few quick hops took him from the bedroom to the staircase, and it was as he descended the last step to the foyer that he realized things were amiss.

The entire library collection was out of place. Not simply scattered about the floor like during one of Twilight’s research sessions, no, that wouldn’t have been unusual in the least. Instead, his once meticulously tidied shelves were completely rearranged! Reference works had invaded Juvenile Fiction! Atlases and maps replaced the biographies! Nonfiction had been completely relocated to one of the side rooms!

Spike’s jaw nearly hit the floor. A part of his mind bemoaned the horrific amount of re-shelving that awaited him in the near future, but there was something else that bothered him more. Twilight had gone to bed before him the previous the night. No matter how early she had awoken, it would be impossible for her to so quickly rearrange their collection in so little a time. Not only that, but he knew that Twilight would never arrange books in such a hectic order.

Something was very wrong.

“Twilight! Twi, where are you?” Spike called frantically as he searched their home. Things were getting stranger by the minute.

He stepped into the basement to find that Twilight’s laboratory equipment was gone, replaced by hundreds of unopened boxes. The room was thick with dust and cobwebs, looking as though it hadn’t been entered in years.

“Wha… what’s going on,” he asked with a nervous glance around the room. “How long was I asleep?” Dashing back up the stairs, he searched the rest of the library.

The kitchen was the same. Most of their dishes and utensils were gone. The fridge was nearly empty. Twilight’s prized tea kettle and assortment of tea had vanished, replaced by a metal percolator and a jar of coffee grounds; even the bowl of gems he had left on the table was nowhere to be found.

There was a rush of displaced air, and he thought he heard scraping sounds from above. Running back into the foyer, Spike saw that everything had changed. Many of the shelves were now empty, the staircase to the second level had vanished, and even the bedroom itself was gone, replaced by a solid wall of wood.

Spike’s worry was quickly developing into fright. What was happening to their house? Where was Twilight? WHAT WAS HAPPENING!?

Racing for the exit, Spike threw open the door and leapt outside. He didn’t know if the house was haunted or magically rearranging itself, but he wasn’t going to stay and find out!

Once he was safely out in the street, the young dragon dropped to his knees to catch his breath. Now he needed to find Twilight; he just hoped she was safe. Maybe one of their other friends had-

The whole world turned dark. It was if somepony had blown out a candle, assuming that said candle was actually the sun. The bright morning sky instantly shifted to black, a waning crescent moon looming coldly overhead.

Night taking over the day? But they’d defeated Nightmare Moon, hadn’t they? Running as fast as his legs could take him, Spike traversed the darkened streets and made his way to Sugarcube Corner. He’d meet up with Pinkie Pie first. He doubted that she’d be fazed by all the strange occurrences. Heck, she might not even have noticed.

He was only a few steps from the building when the sun reappeared in the sky. The sudden increase in light was blinding, and Spike tripped over his own feet and rolled to a stop in the dirt.

After several seconds of allowing his eyes to adjust, he picked himself up and turned back to the bakery. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Sugarcube Corner was condemned. The paint was faded and peeling, boards were nailed over the windows and empty doorway, and gaping holes marred the roof and walls. It almost looked as if it had been abandoned and left to rot decades ago.

Swallowing his fear, Spike stepped up to a window and climbed onto the sill for a peek. Much like he expected, the interior was in the same pitiable shape. Dust covered the floors, roof beams were broken and decayed, and it didn’t look like anypony had set hoof inside for-

The sun went out a second time, startling him into falling off of the sill. Massaging his aching rump, Spike set off for the town square, failing to notice that the bakery had returned to its normal appearance in the few seconds his back was turned. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was too scared to even think straight by this point. He just wanted to find a friendly face, or even a familiar one, before something worse happened. He was rounding the last corner when the sun flared up once again.

If he wasn’t so terrified, he’d be getting more than a little annoyed with the way that Celestia and Luna seemed to be alternating the time of day. Once again, he could only wait for his eyes to adjust. And once again, nothing could have prepared him for the sight.

All around him, Ponyville was in chaos. Buildings seemed to shift and change before his very eyes. On one side, Quills and Sofas looked to be in the early stages of construction, ringed with scaffolding and surrounded by piles of lumber and tools. On another, Cheerilee’s schoolhouse was sagging inward, its supports weakened and on the verge of collapse. In the span of only a few seconds, Quills and Sofas was completed and open for business, and the schoolhouse had collapsed into a pile of rubble.

Different sections of town seemed to be moving backwards or forwards in time. The library tree was little more than a sapling, but its trunk was growing rapidly, branches and limbs shooting out and into the sky. One minute the town would be decorated for Nightmare Night, the next it would be for Hearth-warming’s Eve.

By now, Spike had decided that either he had completely snapped, or he was having the most bizarre dream of his life. Either way, it gave him a welcome feeling of relief to believe that nothing he witnessed was real, and his fears melted away. Deciding that he might as well enjoy the pandemonium while it lasted, he set out into the town. Or at least, he would have, if one particular building hadn’t caught his complete attention.

It was a small, modest home less than a block from the library tree. All in all, it was remarkably ordinary, built in the usual design with a normal coating of brown paint and a typical amount of furnishings on the walls and roof. Nothing special about it whatsoever… except perhaps that it seemed to be immune to the temporal distortions wreaking havoc through the rest of the town.

Moving closer, Spike began to hear voices emanating from within. Temporarily forgetting that this was all most likely a dream, he rushed to a window and pulled himself up for a look.

The very first word that came to his mind was clean. The entire room was spotless, from the floors to the ceiling. The white walls and the pile of medical equipment on the table made him think that the house might be some part of the Ponyville Clinic, maybe as outpatient housing. Despite the sunlight filtering in through the windows, the majority of the room was deeply in shadows. Really, the only clear object he could see was the lone bed and the pegasus pony laying in it.

Twilight could have found several adjectives to describe the stallion. Decrepit, perhaps, or maybe wizened. Aged, if she was feeling particularly blunt. To Spike, however, the only word that crossed his mind was mummified.

The stallion’s coat was threadbare and wrinkled, the folds of skin bunched together like a crumpled jacket, his legs so frail and withered that he could barely lift them. Even his wings had shriveled away, feathers gone and the membrane stretched taut over the bones to give them a nearly skeletal appearance. His color had faded almost entirely, only the tiniest shade of orchid still gracing his coat. If Spike had to guess, he’d say it used to be some kind of blue or purple. The stallion’s mane was a pure and brilliant white.

Spike looked closer in amazement. For the longest time, he thought Granny Smith was the oldest pony in the world, but this guy looked like he could’ve read bedtime stories to the princesses! Just how he could still be alive in such a state, Spike had no idea.

The stallion’s eyes snapped open. Unlike the rest of him, those blazing jade irises were as bright and intense as stars.

Spike gasped and nearly fell over backwards. For the briefest of moments their eyes had met, and he felt sure that the pony had seen him, had recognized him.

“So, this is it.” A voice rang out from a corner. It had been so unexpected that Spike nearly lost his balance for a second time. The stallion, however, seemed to anticipate this, and bit back a snort when he looked over to the speaker. Spike followed his gaze, but found that the room was too dark for him to see the second occupant.

“I was wondering when you’d show up. Don’t you know it’s rude to keep an old colt waiting?” The stallion’s voice was brittle as an icicle.

An indignant ‘hmph’ came from the darkness. “All this time and your manners are as poor as ever. Would it kill you to show a bit of respect?”

The stallion grinned. “In my current condition, it just might! Gives me an excuse to be a grouch, you know.” This time he couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from his throat, only to have it shift into a series of coughs that wracked his weakened body.

A glass of water was thrust against his lips. Drinking greedily, he cast a grateful look to his friend.

“Thanks,” he croaked after the glass was levitated away.

“For the water, or for the joke at my expense?”

“Both.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Spike couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling the unseen pony’s eyes were looking over the stallion.

“You look terrible.”

This time, the pony managed to keep his mouth tightly shut. It was a good thing too. Spike could tell that the last thing he needed was to laugh himself into a heart attack.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be insulted,” he said. “Everypony has been so kind, so thoughtful, so supportive… it’s beginning to drive me insane. I don’t want their last memories of me to focus on some broken husk wasting away in bed. I don’t want them to act like I’m made of glass…”

The stallion’s head bowed down, and for a moment Spike could see something reaching out of the shadows. It almost looked like it was giving the pony a pat on the head… or maybe a noogie.

They were speaking more quietly now, and even when pressing his ear to the glass, Spike couldn’t hear another word. He was vaguely aware of a shape moving in the darkness, circling around the pony’s bed and drawing closer to the window. He squinted futilely, hoping to get at least an idea of what else was inside.

The pegasus looked up wearily. "Is it time?" There was no reply, but he nodded as though there had. "Alright. Good luck, and please, take care of him. You'll do that, won't you?"

More silence, but the pony smiled tiredly and eased himself back against the pillow, falling into a restful sleep.

The voice spoke up again, this time from right in front of the glass.

“Well then, we’d better be going.”

The window shattered into a cloud of glass shards, and Spike had a fraction of a second to see a rapidly approaching shape before something grasped hold of his windpipe. He gasped in pain as he was lifted bodily away from the sill and pulled into the darkened room. The air was thick and heavy, and an invisible wind spiraled around him.

He kicked and fought in the thing’s grip, but the pressure around his throat was ironclad. Spots were beginning to fill his vision, but he managed to get a clear look at its eyes before everything went black.

They were as brightly colored as the sun, reminding him of two pools of molten gold. For a moment he was lost in the warmth of those eyes, and then they were pulling him down, deeper and deeper into the gloom, until the pressure in his ears and the tightness in his throat robbed him of consciousness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike awoke with a start, his mouth opening in a strangled gasp, the last traces of some horrible nightmare fading into his subconscious. For a time he could only lay there, drawing in huge, gulping breaths as he waited for his pulse to steady.

What had happened? He clenched his eyes shut, trying to grasp hold of the fleeting remnants of his dream. There were colors, he recalled. Bright, impossible hues that were almost blinding in their intensity. He remembered that something had been speaking to him. It had shouted something, and then there was a blinding flash of light and a great, crippling pain had spread throughout his body. Most striking of all were the eyes. They were golden and very clear, and they reminded him of the wolves that prowled through the Everfree Forest. But there was intelligence in these ones, an icy malevolence that seemed to pierce straight through to his core, already knowing his secrets and fears and dreams.

His eyes snapped open, and he was relieved by the darkened room around him. A quick glance to the window confirmed that the sky was pitch black, with moonlight streaming in through the windows and onto the landing above him. Something about the view seemed a bit off, but he was far too relieved to take notice. Just a dream. He was safe. Everything was okay.

He dropped his head, only to wince as it made contact with a cold, unforgiving floor. Well, that explained the soreness in his back. He must have fallen out of his basket during the nightmare. Rolling onto his side, he lifted an arm and began to grope around. He quickly found it, brushing against woven reed and a cotton blanket. But what froze him in his tracks was the sudden feeling of something warm and breathing. Something ALIVE.

He drew back as though he’d been scalded. The darkness of the room suddenly felt ominous, as though a monster was slumbering just inches from where he lay. He felt the sudden urge to call for Twilight, but instead he carefully reached forward once again. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear the breaths drawing in and out. Could actually see a vague outline of the creature curled up in his basket. He moved slowly, inching closer until he again made contact with its body.

‘Scales?’ He wondered what that could mean? Had Gummy somehow snuck into the library? That had to be it. Aside from himself, the minute alligator was the only other creature in Ponyville with such a thick, leathery hide.

Still, something didn’t feel right. Spike poked and prodded, confused as to why Gummy seemed to be larger than normal. He was just moving up towards the snout when the creature began to stir. He drew his arm back, throat clenched in anticipation as the silhouette sat up, arms stretching out to the side.

“Alright Twilight. I’m up already. You can stop poking me.”

No way. It just wasn’t possible. That voice, it was so similar to his own, only a touch deeper. He vaguely recalled Twilight lecturing him on the subject. Something about bone conduction and air conduction. That was what he was hearing now. It was his voice, but it wasn’t coming from his mouth.

The shape moved forward into a patch of moonlight, and Spike’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the purple scales, the green spines, and the emerald eyes locked with his own

He was looking directly into his own face

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a moment, the two dragons merely gaped at one another. It was just like looking into a mirror, except that the other Spike looked a bit smaller, or maybe younger. There was also the fact that they weren’t copying each other’s movements.

Spike stared down his younger counterpart, mind racing with questions. As far as he knew, he didn’t possess any siblings. Certainly not any identical twins that had unexpectedly popped in for a visit and usurped his basket. Maybe Twilight had been practicing some kind of copying or duplication spell? He certainly wouldn’t be surprised if the purple pony became carried away in her research and impulsively decided to test it on her number one guinea pi… assistant. His gaze flicked to the nearby bed and took note of the peaceful breathing underneath the blankets. For her to be sleeping voluntarily, it obviously wasn’t the fault of her magic, or she’d still be hunched over a book researching a counterspell. Unless, of course, the spell hadn’t taken immediate effect…

He looked back at himself, eyes narrowing in suspicion. This might be some kind of evil twin, infiltrating their world from a parallel dimension. If that was the case, it had already begun to switch places with him in some dastardly attempt to take over Ponyville! At least, that’s what evil trans-dimensional twins were always doing in the comic books.

A quick look at ‘Spike’s’ face derailed that possibility. After all, everypony knows that evil twins have to possess some manner of facial hair, typically a goatee to serve as a sign of their evilness. Failure to do so would result in a Code Eighteen violation and Mirror Spock hunting them down.

Deciding that he wasn’t getting anywhere with theoretical explanations, Spike decided that the best course of action was talking to himself. Adopting what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he tried to think of a safe way to break the ice.

“Um… hey there?”

The other dragon’s reaction was immediate. Spike’s eyes bulged, mouth dropping open as he tried to stammer out some words. Finally, the smaller dragon sucked in one large breath.

“Whoa, wait wait wait…” Spike whispered, reaching forwards to try and stop himself.

“AAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHmmmphggh-” Spike’s panicked scream was cut off as the older dragon tackled him to the floor and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Come on, shut up for a second!” Whatever was going on, the last thing they needed was for Twilight to wake up. Unfortunately, his counterpart didn’t appear to share this opinion. He thrashed and fought, digging his claws into Spike’s arms and chest. The older dragon winced as blood began to run down his arms. What was going on? His scales shouldn’t have been that easy to pierce.

“Damn it, calm down,” Spike hissed. The anger in his voice seemed to do the trick, as the younger dragon immediately stilled, though his eyes remained wide and fearful.

“Now listen,” he continued. “I know this seems strange, but I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m gonna take my hand away from your mouth, and you’re gonna-”

“Spike?” A soft, worried voice rang out from behind him. He cursed to himself, inwardly urging the unicorn to fall back asleep.

“Spike, I heard you scream. Did you have a nightmare?” Her voice was closer this time. She must already be out of bed. The smaller dragon immediately began shouting into his hand, and he pressed down harder to stifle the cries. It wasn’t working; for some reason he couldn’t move or bend his fingers, and muffled yells leaked out from around his hand.

“Spike, is that you? Are you alright?” Twilight’s voice was gaining a measure of fear, and before he could react, a soft glow came from behind him.

All at once, every candle in the room lit up.

“SPIKE!”

He knew that she’d scream the moment she laid eyes on them. He’d been expecting it, to be honest. Of course, he wasn’t prepared for her to be directly behind him. The force and volume of her shout ringing through his ears was enough to make him stumble dazedly away from the basket, only to fall to the ground in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs.

While he waited for his eardrums to settle down, he took in his now visible surroundings. It only took a moment for him to realize that they weren’t in the library at all. Instead of hoof-carved wood, the walls were sculpted out of white stone, the furniture gleaming and immaculate. A staircase behind him led to a second floor, dominated by a massive window overlooking… the palace?

What they hay were they doing in Canterlot?

“Spike,” he heard Twilight’s voice call out urgently. “Come over here right now.”

He moved to comply, only to have his legs give out and reunite him with the ground. Looking up, he watched the younger dragon scamper over to Twilight, and his innate racial possessiveness flared up in jealousy.

“That’s not your Spike!” He forced himself upright, ignoring the bizarre and unfamiliar feeling of his body. He took a step forwards, one arm lifted to point at his chest. “I’M your Spiiiiaaaaauugh!”

Lifting his arm had proven to be a poor decision. A sudden loss of balance sent him face-planting into the floor, eliciting a painful cry and muffled curses when his nose impacted the cold stone. Blinking away tears, Spike rolled over onto his back and rubbed a hoof over his aching face.

Wait…

He pulled it back and stared blankly at the appendage in question.

A hoof?

He looked over this new addition to his arm, or foreleg, as the case seemed to be. His individual claws were gone, replaced instead by a smooth, singular digit. From the coronet band upward, his leg was covered in soft, violet fur. Looking over the rest of his body, he found this to be a uniform change. Craning his neck backwards, he saw that his tail had changed from a single, reptilian appendage to a collection of long and thick green hair. Hesitantly, he moved a foreleg to his head and felt for his spines, only to send a section of emerald mane tumbling into his face.

Sputtering and pushing away the offending hair, he finally understood.

‘Oh. I’m a pony.’

Well, that certainly explained why he’d been having so much trouble standing up. It was only natural, he mused, falling into a Twilight-esque mindset. Attempting to move in a bipedal fashion was completely impractical for a quadruped. Obviously he was going to have to practice walking on all fours now… that he… was…

Realization finally hit, and the dam burst.

“AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just an intriguing though that sprung up in my mind the other day, wanted to see what I could make of it.

Hope everyone enjoys!

Comments

[Feloua]

Intriguing, tracked and ready to read.

[0]

That was good.

And then everything was a nightmare in a nigthmare.

[MiniHorse]

This is really interesting, but pretty confusing. Two Spikes? That part was a little hard to keep track of. Still, I'll track this.

[Traveler7]

Interesting. Two Spikes, one of whom is a pony. And a few mysteries scattered throughout as well. I'll follow.

[Igabugalo]

Wow. Trippy.

[MicroChip]

A bit of a mind twirl, but rather good once you get the hang of the story. I always did enjoy a a reality bender that didn't involve humans. Keep it up!

[Silver Wrench]

+1 for the Star Trek Reference

[Suomibrony]

Looks like this is a riveting story in the making.

[Ignaltus]

Just an addendum, in theory, time travel is impossible in physics for a living (esistem many complications), but nothing distitui the journey of consciousness, or the individual ego if you prefer. While ever there should be a body to occupy, this must have similarities to the original. It was probably a way to enhance the Twilight spell of time. What can lead us, now the owner of the body that occupies Spike is in your body for giving a voyeur with Twilight: the fourth ... in the bathroom ... embracing ... clop!