Attachment
He'd gone to bed crying . . . .
It's been two weeks since the talk I had with Spike. I'd hoped it wouldn't have to come to this. I'd been putting it off for years. But his feelings for her had to be addressed eventually, and if she didn't take the responsibility, then I had to. I tried my best to be compassionate, considerate, and understanding. But I was honest, I was firm, and I said what needed to be said. I guess it was too painful for him. Painful enough for him to stay in his room for the rest of the day. He's hardly spoken to me since. We've hardly even seen each other . . . .
As Twilight Sparkle prepared breakfast in the castle kitchen, she wondered if Spike was okay. Those same thoughts had been plaguing her mind for two weeks, returning again and again even after she'd thought she'd gotten over them. As if hurting her long-time friend and trusted assistant wasn't enough, dealing with guilt on top of it was almost too much to bear.
No, she reminded herself. I was honest, and I was firm. And I said what I needed him to hear. He'll be hurt for a while, but he'll move on. He has to. This crush has gone on long enough. He may be young, but there are some things he just has to grow out of.
Twilight heard a sound from the entrance, and turned to see Spike standing beside the wall, yawning. “Morning, Twilight,” he said, a little groggy but otherwise cheerful.
Twilight was confused for a second, but tried to mask it. “Uhh, morning, Spike,” she replied, returning his good cheer, “so, uhh . . . hash browns for breakfast. Is that okay?”
Stifling another yawn, Spike stepped into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. “Sure. Sounds good.”
Twilight returned to breakfast, but felt curiosity urge her to keep going. This was the most the two had spoken to each other since their talk that night. “Hey, Spike?” she asked tentatively as she worked. “Listen, about the other day . . . I know I upset you, and I'm really sorry, but . . . .” Twilight stalled, instinct holding her back. Don't repeat yourself, Twilight. He might still be upset. The last thing you want is to make it worse.
“What are you sorry for?” Spike asked, sounding bewildered. “We talked, you had your say, and I listened. I don't have a reason to be upset.”
Twilight heard this, and glanced over her shoulder, only just barely catching Spike in her eye. “Really?” she replied, trying not to let her own confusion show. “Well, it's just that, you didn't have much to say then. In fact, I . . . made you cry . . . b-but I didn't mean to, you know? I was just worried about you, especially since you kept to yourself for two weeks—”
“Twilight, relax. You're right, I was really upset last night. But you were right on pretty much all counts. I've shed my tears, and now it's over. I'm okay now.”
Twilight felt a pleasant feeling of surprise take her over. “Wow, Spike,” she replied as she finished the hash browns at the stove, “you are showing a lot of maturity right now! In fact, I didn't think you'd bounce back quite like this!” Excited, she took the food off the heat and carried it toward the table, prepared to serve. “I am so proud of . . . you.” She got a good look at Spike, and was dumbstruck.
Sitting next to Spike, on the table, was a pony-shaped plush toy that looked strangely similar—eerily similar—to a certain white-coated Unicorn fashionista.
Spike must have seen the look on Twilight's face. “You okay?” he asked in confusion, as if everything was normal.
Twilight paused for a moment longer, struggling to find words for this peculiar scene (while consciously trying not to look at the doll next to Spike). “Uhhh . . . yeah. Yeah, Spike, everything's fine. Just . . . fine . . . .” The words didn't sound true, even to Twilight. Spike carrying around a doll version of his first crush, and a whole two weeks after being told to let go of his feelings for her and move on?
Everything is not fine, Twilight thought to herself as she set the food on the table, continuously glancing at the cloth representation of Spike's crush. Not fine at all.
Twilight's inner turmoil about this new development notwithstanding, breakfast was spent largely in silence. A casual look would say that it was just a typical morning, but a closer inspection would see Twilight's repeated glances at Spike's new toy, and mark them as decidedly non-typical.
Still, from Twilight's perspective, the awkwardness was as strong as if it were sitting on the table right next to Spike's doll. “So . . . .” Twilight said, breaking the lengthy silence and trying not to make her words sound forced, “. . . uhhh . . . is that new?”
Spike looked back at Twilight in brief surprise as he loaded up his plate, then glanced at his doll, and nodded. “Oh, that. Yeah, I was bored one night, so I decided to make a little something to keep me busy. Took me a week, but it helped calm me down.” Spike then turned back to Twilight. “You like it?”
I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that, Twilight thought, grimacing for a split-second before replying. “Y-yeah, Spike. It looks really good. Really . . . .” Accurate? No surprise there. “. . . Cute. Uh, Spike?” Twilight continued, her words a series of doctor's instruments in this ailing yet delicate situation. “Is there anything you'd still like to talk about?”
Spike had begun digging into his hash browns by now; he looked up from his breakfast with another look of confusion. “Like what, Twilight?” he asked. “Like I said, I'm fine now. No need to worry.” Spike spoke as he ate, and as he did, a crumb of singed potato dropped from his fork and onto the plush toy's stumpy left back hoof. Spike saw this and gave a short gasp, rushing to pluck it off with his free claw. He then spent a full twenty seconds inspecting his doll's hoof before returning to his meal.
Twilight's brow furrowed in anxiety. It couldn't be made more distressingly clear, but still she resisted. Her friend's feelings mattered.
Twilight and Spike went back to eating in silence, with the latter regularly checking his plush toy for more discarded crumbs all the while. Not a word, Twilight, she thought, still weighing the decision in her head, not now. Not while he looks so much happier. It may be unhealthy. It may be irresponsible for me to let it go on. But he's better now. This will be good for him. It'll help him cope and move on, as he should.
One more check for food remnants made Spike double-check his toy with extra scrutiny. He discovered a hair on the plushie's face and gently plucked it off, as if avoiding scratching a priceless stained-glass window. He then inspected the doll's face as if that's exactly what it was. His eyes and mouth were drawn far too close to it for comfort.
Another few minutes of silence, broken only by the clinking of silverware, and breakfast was done. Twilight used her magic to gather the dishes in one spot as Spike sat in his seat, licking his lips. “Mmm, that was great, Twilight!” he praised, patting his belly. “Since you made breakfast, how about I make us lunch later today?”
Still mentally navigating through the cumbersome circumstances, Twilight gave a simple nod and a weak, “Sure, Spike,” as her reply. Once gathered, the dishes were all enveloped in a purple glow, and Twilight got up from the table, bringing them with her. She gave a soft grunt on the way out when she accidentally bumped the table with her flank—a simple mistake, if it didn't lead to something else.
Spike's plushie shook from the bump and tumbled to the floor.
“Oops! Sorry about that, Spike,” Twilight spoke up sheepishly.
Spike didn't seem to be listening. As soon as the stuffed toy hit the floor, Spike gasped and scrambled to pick it up. Twilight quickly set the dishes down into the sink, and turned back to continue observing. Like before, Spike scrutinized the doll for any marks, debris or other imperfections.
Stay calm, Twilight, she thought, staying resolute. He's just taking care of his doll. Nothing to worry about. No need for another heart-to-heart just yet . . .
What Twilight thought kept her at bay. What Spike said, however, was a different story. She could just barely catch it as he walked out of the kitchen, but Twilight was certain she'd heard it, from Spike to the object of his tender scrutiny.
“It's okay . . . don't worry . . . I'm here . . . .”
That's it. Time for an intervention.
“All right, Spike,” Twilight spoke brusquely, casting off her doubt and taking a necessary risk, “I think we need to talk about this.”
Spike stopped on his way out of the kitchen, and answered without turning, “We've already talked, Twilight. Remember?” His voice was tinged with solemn earnestness, as if meeting Twilight's finality with his own. He no longer sounded as though he'd moved on.
“Not that, Spike. I'm talking about the elephant that's in the room right now.”
There was a brief pause in which Spike said nothing, and Twilight could feel her stomach contract in anxiety. Then, Spike's head turned to the right, then quickly to the left, then he turned around fully, facing Twilight. “Elephant?”
Twilight sighed. “Not a real elephant. I'm talking about that.” She pointed to the plush toy in Spike's arms, a bemused look in her eyes.
Spike glanced down at the Unicorn doll he held in his claws, then looked back up at Twilight, his face stone-still. “What about it?” he replied, almost tonelessly.
“I think you know 'what about it', Spike. We went over this two weeks ago, and after all that time moping and hiding from me, you're perfectly fine with carrying that around?”
In spite of his words, Spike's voice was still bordering on monotone, “I don't see what that has to do with this.”
“Spike you can't possibly tell me that doll has nothing to do with our talk. I mean, don't expect me to believe that any resemblance between that doll and a certain friend of ours is purely coincidental!”
“Why does it even matter to you, Twilight?” Spike asked, his tone growing deeper. “It's my plushie. It shouldn't mean anything to you.”
“It means everything to me, Spike! This isn't right, and you know it!”
“I'm not hurting anypony . . .”
“You're hurting yourself! You've been hanging on to this fantasy for far too long!”
“Twilight, I'm not a baby! Stop worrying about me!”
“That's not the point! Spike, you have to get it through your head! She doesn't love you!!”
“Don't you think I know that!?!”
Twilight froze, and found herself holding back—not just because the screaming had gotten out of hand for both of them, but in shock from what Spike had said.
“You honestly think I'm some stupid kid, don't you?!” Spike kept bellowing as he held his plushie tighter, tears welling in his eyes as he took a step forward. “I get it, okay?! I know! I've known for years! I've known since she had a crush on that Trenderhoof guy! She doesn't care about my feelings! She never did, and she never will!!”
The Alicorn took a step back, her voice breaking as she struggled to reply. “Spike, that's not what—”
“Stop! I don't wanna hear any more of this! I don't want you to shove any more of your patronizing 'you're just a child' bull down my throat! I have it figured out, okay?! Everything I ever hoped would happen is over! All I had left was the hope that she would love me someday, and I know now that it will never happen! Okay?! You happy?! It's never gonna happen!!” The tears started falling down Spike's face.
Twilight felt a pain in her chest as her eyes began to water. “Spike, please—”
“But you just won't stop throwing it in my face! After I told you I got over it, after everything else in my life I've had to get over, you have to ruin this for me, too! I'm never useful to you anymore! It's a wonder you keep me as an assistant! I don't have my own friends! The only reason I know anypony in town is because of you! I'm a dragon living with ponies! I'm a freak, and everywhere I go, I don't belong! You never take me on your adventures unless you need a meat shield or a decoy! I had nothing and nopony except her, and now she's out of the picture, too! I'm already useless and stupid! I have no hopes or dreams anymore! And the mare I love will never love me! This is all I have left!” His screams, and his tears, came out full force as he brandished the plushie at Twilight.
“So let me have it and LEAVE ME ALONE!!”
Spike turned and ran, holding onto his plushie for dear life, his sobs worsening with every beat of his feet as he ran upstairs to his room.
“Spike, wait! Please, come back! Spike!” It was no use; Twilight heard a door slam a few seconds later, and knew she wouldn't be able to reach him now. She sat down on the kitchen floor, aghast at Spike's sudden tearful rage, and went over what he'd said in her mind over and over. There was too much to even process in her shocked state, but over the course of several minutes, it all started to make sense. This was about much more than ending a childish crush, and Spike had clearly done a lot more thinking about his life over the last two weeks.
“What have I done?” Twilight asked out loud. She'd remembered all the times she'd taken Spike for granted, or turned her back on him. The more she thought back to those moments—the Grand Galloping Gala, the first time they met Owloiscious, the letters she’d gotten after the first Discord incident (that had made him physically ill), the life debt he owed to Applejack, the friendship summit, dozens upon dozens of jobs she'd given him under the belief he could do them, whether he actually could or not—the more she was unwilling to think about them. Because, like it or not, Spike was right. Or, at the very least, he was fully convinced he was.
“This really is about more than just a crush, isn't it?” she whispered, her face slowly pained with understanding.
Spike's suffering was causing a wave of guilt and anguish to overwhelm her, and now that she had made things worse, she was afraid that nothing she could say would help Spike now. He hadn't even called her by name the whole time they argued—a bad sign if Twilight ever saw one. On top of all that, it seemed clear that Spike would cling to this Unicorn miniature for as long as it took to regain emotional stability. If he could at all.
Unless . . . .
“That's it!”
Without another word, Twilight raced out of the kitchen and aimed right for the front door. Spike may not be willing to talk, but that depended on who was doing the listening . . . .
Spike curled up in his bed, sobbing uncontrollably, clutching his claw-made doll as if letting go would damn him to Tartarus. Every sound that escaped his throat felt like it tore up every organ in his body on the way up. His stomach lurched, his head pounded, but he didn't care. It hurt too much for him to care.
After hours of crying (to him, it felt like days), Spike sat up in his bed, picked up his bedsheets, and dried his eyes with them. His face felt hot and his body ached all over, and even after all of that, it still wasn't enough.
It still hurts, he thought to himself, a feeling of helplessness infesting his mind, I cried my eyes out all this time, and it still hurts. I cried two weeks ago. I was over her. I can't even say her name anymore. And it still hurts! Why does it still hurt after all this time?! Why?! Spike could only double over where he sat, hugging his pretty toy and never letting go. Because as much as he hated to admit it, there was a deep, almost primitive part of him that wished to Celestia that she was real.
TAP-TAP-TAP!
The knocking on the door shook Spike out of his misery. “I said leave me alone, Twilight!” he shouted. Just hearing that knock restarted the pain all over again. She would come in anyway. She always did. She was the Princess, after all. She would come in and try to apologize, but justify why she was right. As if he wasn't hurting enough.
Slowly, the door creaked open, and Spike shrank into himself, shutting his eyes tightly and bracing for the impact from her words:
“Spikey, darling? Can we talk?”
Wait a minute. That's not Twilight.
Spike turned, and saw her. Her pristine, pearly-white coat; her splendid purple mane, the color and style redefining the word “royalty”; her shimmering blue eyes; it all took his breath away just as easily as the first moment he laid eyes on her.
He suddenly panicked and tried to hide his doll, a small cloth doppelganger of the pony in the room with him. His face flushed to red, and he turned away again, head bent low.
“Please,” Spike pleaded weakly, sniffling every few seconds, “I . . . I don't want you to . . . to see me like this . . . .”
Her hoofsteps slowly approached, making Spike cringe and pull deeper into himself. The hoofsteps stopped, and Spike felt the bed shift slightly underneath him as she joined him. “Please, Spike,” she cooed, laying a hoof against his back and carefully stroking it, “let me help you.”
“I . . . I don't want you to. You're only here because Twilight asked you to come here. I just . . . I can't even look at you right now . . . .”
Her depressed sigh filled Spike's ears. She sounded like she genuinely wanted to help, but Spike fought his own mind for a response. There was nothing. Only more pain.
“I take it Twilight spoke to you about your feelings for me,” she continued, sounding guilty. “Oh, Spikey, I'm sorry. I know how deeply you loved me. I can't . . . I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you . . . .”
“Of course you can,” Spike replied, a bit more bitterly than he'd wanted, “just think back to how Trenderhoof made you feel. Of course, how would I know? I don't know what it's like 'to be totally obsessed with a pony . . . only to . . . t-to find out . . .” Spike stalled, his voice beginning to break, “. . . they're . . . th-they're obsessed with . . . s-s-somepony else' . . .” The last two words were only barely intelligible—once again, his tears overtook him, and he felt his sobs tearing up his insides once again.
“Shh . . . there, there, sweetheart, please don't cry.” Her words, soft though they may have been, had little effect; Spike continued to cry, unashamed and uninhibited. “I know, I know. I've been guilty of hurting you in the past. Said things I never should have said . . . but that's why I'm here for you now, Spikey. It wasn't just because Twilight asked me to. I want to be here for you.” She wrapped her hooves around him and pulled him in close. “I don't ever want you to think you don't have anypony. Because you do.”
Spike leaned into her embrace, but could not stop sobbing. “N-no, I don't . . . y-you and the others . . . y-you don't really c-care . . . i-if Twilight wasn't th-there, I . . . I w-wouldn't . . . w-wouldn't be worth anything to you . . . .”
“Spike, that's not true!” she replied, sounding hurt. “We care for you very much! Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash, and Applejack, and Fluttershy, all of us! We're not just your friends because you're Twilight's assistant! We're your friends because we love you.” She took his face into her soft, warm hooves and brought him out of the ball of misery he was curled up in. She turned his face up to meet hers, and their eyes locked onto each other. “We may never be a couple, Spikey,” she continued soothingly, “but you'll always be one of my dearest friends, and I don't . . . I don't know what I'd do without you.”
Her voice almost broke as she concluded. “You mean the world to me.”
The two kept their eyes on each other for a long while, with Spike's still dripping tears. His claws twitched over the doll in his lap; he'd given up trying to hide it. Slowly, she pulled her hooves away, and Spike turned his head back to the floor. His tears now landed on the fluffy surface of the plushie.
“I just don't want to lose you . . .” His words were faint, strangled, as if he'd fought against death just to say them. “I don't ever . . . ever want to lose you . . . .” He clung especially tightly to his doll as he said it over and over again.
After a few more seconds of pulling into himself, plush in hand and face dripping with tears, Spike felt the bed shift under him again, then a set of hooves hitting the floor, and his heart dissolved. She had gone. Even after coming up to his room to comfort him, to hold him, to tell him how much he meant to her, she'd just left without a word. Why wouldn't she? I'm just a creepy little stalker, after all. She may be nice to me now, but it's only because she feels sorry for me. She can't possibly care about me after this. This thing in my claws was the last straw for her. She can't put up with me anymore, no matter how much she pities me.
This plushie really is all I have left, now . . . .
Spike gasped when he felt the soft feeling of her hooves return to his face. Cradling his baby face like a priceless diamond, she sat there, on the floor in front of him, her gaze strong and unfaltering, yet still so passive and compassionate. She was right there all along.
“Spikey, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” she told him, her own voice threatening to break again, but staying strong throughout, “you are never, ever going to lose me. It's just one relationship that would never work between us. It doesn't mean I'd ever walk away from you, and it doesn't mean I don't like you. And it will never mean that, do you understand me? I may not love you the way you love me, but I still love you, with all my heart. And nothing will ever change that.” Now, tears started welling up in her beautiful blue eyes. “And with what's happening inside your mind right now, I . . . I'm just . . .” she pressed on as much as she could, her fears visibly holding back as they threatened to make her collapse as Spike had. “I'm afraid to lose you, darling.”
Spike suddenly felt his heart burst. What am I doing? he thought. All this time, I've been hurting, but I never thought she'd be hurting, too. I never wanted that . . . ever . . . I've been wrong . . . oh, Celestia, I've been wrong . . . .
“I've been wrong . . . .”
As he spoke his thoughts, he once again collapsed into tears. Dropping his doll, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her. She returned it soon after, holding him in her warm, calming embrace as his tears stained her flawless white coat. He felt comfort. He felt affection. He felt at peace with himself, for the first time in a long time of being afraid and ashamed, knowing the love he longed for from her would never be real.
But she does love me. She's not my marefriend, but she loves me. Even after all I've done, or haven't done right, she still loves me. And she's afraid to lose me, just like I didn't want to lose her.
No doll can do that . . . .
Spike's cries lasted much longer this time, but she still held him. He was sure she had someplace to be right now. Maybe attending some fashion show, or working on orders in her boutique. But she was here, holding him, helping him, comforting him. Regardless of his flaws, foul-ups and crazy idea involving a doll version of her, she was here, and she still held on.
No doll can do that, either . . . .
Spike didn't even keep track of how long he cried this time. Time didn't matter. Reasons didn't matter. Feeling her fur warm up his face and arms, feeling it dissolve his tears away, the security of having her forelegs around him, is what mattered. She loved him. That mattered. She was here. That mattered, too.
And I do have somepony there for me. Somepony to remind me that I matter.
Finally, the two parted, and Spike looked around to see where he had dropped his doll. She picked it up and held it out to him, and Spike was briefly disoriented by the strange double-image he saw before him. Spike carefully took the plushie from her and held it tightly. “I . . .” he hesitated as he glanced at her, knowing that the answer he didn't want to hear was coming, “. . . I . . . I have to get rid of it, don't I?”
She shook her head. “I won't force you to. If it helps you to deal with your feelings, keep it for as long as you need it.”
Spike glanced back down at his beloved toy, and felt as though something were lifted off his shoulders. Was it shame? Was it sadness? Was it his attachment to the thing? It wasn't clear to him, but it felt liberating. He sniffed, almost feeling the tears start up again. “I . . . I'm sorry about this . . . I'm really . . . really sorry . . . .”
“Oh, Spikey-Wikey. Don't apologize. You can't help the way you feel, sometimes. You just need to remember, just because I'm not in love with you, doesn't mean I'll leave you. I still love you very much.” She lay her hoof on his shoulder. “And I will always be there for you.”
Spike sniffed again, glancing back down at his doll. “Then I guess I don't need this anymore, huh?”
“As I said, you do away with it when you're ready.”
Spike sighed shakily. “Do I have to come down now?”
“Not right now. Take as long as you need.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Of course, darling.”
She climbed back onto the bed and sat beside Spike once again. Spike sat the plush next to him and lay his claws into his lap, staring at the floor. He felt her foreleg slide around his shoulders and pull him close, and Spike instinctively leaned against her. Her pleasantly cozy fur and caressing touch almost sent him off to slumber, but he stayed awake. He had already been caught with a stuffed toy; he wanted to save what little maturity he had left.
And so, they sat together on Spike's bed—a little dragon, lost in his own emotions, sitting between two ponies, one of cloth and one of flesh, with the same name.
“Rarity . . . thank you . . . .”
“Anything for you, Spikey-Wikey.”
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6323100 Seriously...
Huh.
Another story that deals with the potential consequences of Spike's crush on Rarity.
Interesting to note, I co-wrote a story that dealt with this same issue.
But back to the matter at hand. Another great story, Lightning. Really well done. Though, I felt it was a bit rushed at points. And Spike also felt a bit out of character, though I guess it's because I don't really understand what he's going through?
I mean, crushes are part of many an adolescent's life. Yet I find that most of them don't end the way we want them to. I guess I was one of the few in my age group to realize this, as I quickly dropped all of my "crushes" in favor of friendship. The consequences of crushes, I realize, can be huge, if not dealt with properly, as demonstrated here.
It's a bit hard for me to understand why Spike is so attached to this crush of his. To go to the point of fantasizing a relationship is not what I expected. If anything, anyone going that far would be labelled creepy by a vast majority, and a few could even pity them. But Spike?
Spike, thinking that Rarity is all he has? No; thinking that the object of Rarity, not the pony herself, is all he has left?
That's... pretty frightening.
I don't understand love, nor crushes, nor romance. What I do understand is where one has to draw a line. This is an example of someone unable to come to terms with the inevitable, and is coping with it in a negative way. The fact that Spike has to have a plushie of his crush speaks volumes of his conditions. As the title says, he's attached. Overly attached, in fact, to the point of obsession.
And that's sad. Sad that, when faced with reality, Spike can't cope as well as he does with other things. Sad that, in order to try and move on, he takes two steps back. Sad that, all he thinks he has is an object, not a concept. Not an abstract like the caring love that the others have for him.
Love is poison, but it is also the cure, I suppose. In the end, perhaps the greatest love that you can show is when you learn to give it up for someone.
I do hope that in the future that Spike's crush is resolved in similar fashion, either to this story or perhaps even to the one I collaborated on. After all, no crush can last forever; and a mature lesson would be one teaching how you have to let go of these crushes in order to learn to love.
(I really hope I'm making sense; I'm suffering from heat exhaustion and sleep deprivation, too tired to bother to correct my muddled thoughts.)
6323136 Thanks, and thanks for favoriting!
6323142 I understand. It's not really something you can process in an in-depth manner if you haven't experienced it firsthand. I've had crushes I was never really able to get over (though, I didn't carry it this far, thank goodness), so I have a pretty good understanding of Spike's feelings. I just took Spike's need for a doll as a sign of denial, or a sign of weaning himself off of Rarity herself, and ran with it, delving into the psychology of displaced attachment. Mind you, I'm no psychologist. I'm just fascinated by how the human mind--or in this case, the dragon mind--works.
Thanks for reading.
WARNING. WARNING. SYSTEM HAS REACHED CRITICAL FEELS LEVEL. MOTHERBOARD SHUTDOWN IMMINENT. ALL STAFF EVACUATE THE FACILITY. REPEAT, ALL STAFF EVACUATE THE FACILITY. MELTDOWN INBOUND.
6323109 Just let me have this, this story was heart breaking/warming nonetheless
6323309 Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And thanks for the fave!
6323309 Eh, I guess I can't argue with that.
I want to read this, but I know this's going to hurt...like heroine needles.
img08.deviantart.net/c2cc/i/2015/105/0/9/i_lost_it_by_hillbe-d8ptaov.jpg
6323100
Oh no, it's leaked everywhere! YouTube comments have leaked everywhere!
Amazing read. I'm just glad I can rarely feel sad for other things because I would be bawling my eyes out at these feels!
6323369 Thank you so much.
I've never really understood why there has to be a time when someone steps in and tells Spike he'll never be loved by Rarity. Crushes are a natural part of a child's development, and there's no real point in pushing these things through prematurely. No parent rushes into their kid's room and says "Son, there's no Santa Claus/Easter Bunny/Love between your Mother and I and you need to stop believing in such things right now for all of our convenience" after all. I especially liked how you linked his crush to how it is emblematic of the larger issues in his life. Thank you for presenting a story that deals with the consequences of Twilight dealing with it poorly, and leaves some hope for Spike at the end.
Also, be aware that you said "Unicorn" in reference to Twilight, and the plushie only appears after she'd become an alicorn, if you wish to correct it.
6323386 I'm honored to get such commentary from a better writer than myself. Thank you for reading!
6323386 Is it weird that I still remember you from when I first joined this site? Thanks again for the help
Very good indeed. Now, if we could start getting Spike-centered episodes like this, instead of rehashing his inability to handle whatever (it'll never happen, but one can dream, eh?), well...I dunno. Pacing felt natural, neither hurried nor drawn out. Well done.
And I see what ya' meant about certain inspiration. Keep up the good work.
6323450 Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed, and I'm more than happy to credit you with the inspiration for this fic, if you choose.
6323393
My pleasure. I don't get to read (much less write) much anymore, but a nice little fic like this deserved a view. So, who was that "better writer" who commented here, anywho?
6323427
My pleasure!
This fic is awesome! Even Descy commented on your Spike fic. That is amazing.
6323487 I was pretty surprised at that myself.
But thanks for reading, and thanks for the fave! 
6323459 I wouldn't object, but that's your call. I'm fine either way.
6323495
NO problem. You won it.
This...This! THIS!!
YOUR MAGNUM OPUS! THIS IS IT!
I was moved! Tears barely come to my eyes, and yet, you shook my heart like a doll, and made tears of silver flow from my face! I....I can't even begin to tell you how deeply this made me feel, but you...This piece is where you come forth from your metaphorical cocoon, and become the butterfly, showering us with such moving words!
Wow. If this doesn't get featured I'm going to eat my foot. And then I'll eat the nearest living creature's foot. If they have one.
But nonetheless, awesome story as usual. 
6323533 I am so touched that you would say all of that. Thank you so much for reading. I can't tell you how grateful I am for your praise. I did put my heart and soul into this piece, and I'm so glad it paid off! Thank you for reading and favoriting!
6323534 Turn on the Mature filter and take a look!
LoL, but that aside, thank you for reading, and for favoriting! 
That fanfic made me cry. Seriously, I just clicked it by chance and found one of the best "We're not a couple" fics I could ever read. it was so well written i could almost SEE the events, not the words. this is an instant fave.
6323618 Thank you so much for favoriting. I'm glad you enjoyed it so much, and I am so touched that it got that kind of a response from you. Sincerely, thank you.
Isn't Twilight an Alicorn?
Those Feels! You've done it again! 
6323643 Damn, you're right! Gotta fix that. Thanks for catching it.
6323355 Heroin* Heroine is a Female Hero.
6323646 Thank you. Just doing my civic duty.
6323656 And you've done it well. And thanks for the fave!
6323660 You are welcome. But now I want to make a Fluttershy plushie... Maybe I'm losing it.
6323669 You're not alone on that one.
6323679 As long as I don't accidentally make a Flutterbat.
6323624
The compliments are well-deserved. ^^ You keep up this level of writing and you'll soon gain a loyal fan.
6323100 You must be lost friend, this is the FimFiction comment section. Not a YouTube video comment section, YouTube is That away
Well... I like this!
I must say I'm very fond of using a superficial problem of Spike's to indicate a more important underlying problem. Spike having an unrequited crush? Usually this is just somewhat painful, and it certainly could get worse if he starts getting yanked around as a result of it, but if he doesn't then it's something that will eventually work itself out. But... Spike feeling neglected? Spike feeling unloved? That's some serious problems.
The ending leaves me feeling just a little uneasy. It should feel great that Rarity makes it clear that he's more important than her than just a boy that she can get to do things for her, or is a friend of her friend, but... in some ways it feels a little bit like a platitude. Like Spike's only problem is that he misinterpreted the situation of him and his friends, rather than there being an actual problem.
During the story Twilight and Spike constantly reference a talk they had previously, that seemed like a very important point to just gloss over. Without knowing the cause of these events it's hard to be interested.
Imma be upfront with this. Bro, it's clear that effort did go into this story but in the end, this story is incredibly hollow. After all the pain, after all of the perils, after all the lies he'd come to realize, after all the melancholy he has had to endure... an apology and reassurance from Rarity is what makes him feel better and realize his self worth?
I am not buying it. He feels complete despair and instead of everyone coming together to help this poor soul, he gets the one pony who has caused him the most pain and she says some pretty words which somehow make him feel better. Hell, even her actions and the actions of all his so called 'friends' have proven that they can talk a good game, but in the end... he truly has no one true intimate friend. Their actions have shown how little they truly think of him, even though they would vehemently deny it.
Yet in spite of all of that, he'll readily accept their apology and be okay?..... I hope you see why I call this hollow.
Hopefully Lightning, you can see where I'm coming from. That whole ending sequence did not sit well with me. Good effort, but that's it. But hey, I'm one guy so what do I know :P
the story was good it's a little flawed and It was sad but It dident make me cry like anthor story almost did but it was good
6324036 Well I buy it.
And I've been pushed to consider suicide 13 times. And counting.
I know what it's like to feel the way Spike does here. Not for the same cause, but I do know what it's like to feel worthless. Alone, unloved. Like you can never do anything with yourself, with your life. And I especially know what it's like to not have your own friends. For a long time the only thing resembling friends I knew were my sister's friends, so I quite literally know what that's like. There are times I feel like the only two people who love me are my parents, and that's only because they're awesome enough to love everybody.
I also know what it's like how such a tiny thing can make such a huge change with that thinking. I know how healing a heartfelt talk with someone you love can be. A simple hug, even, can change a lot of that. Heck, one day when I was feeling down at work I bought donuts for my coworkers, which was pretty neat. It cleanses, it really does. Imagining myself in Spike's place, which isn't all that hard, I can see Rarity saying and doing exactly what she said and did, and fixing everything. The answer is love.
All that said, Pon de Don, I guess I can see where you're coming from. All that that I just said there, and in the story, could sound a little empty, and I do agree with LS that one can't entirely understand how this would feel unless one's experienced it firsthand. I do agree that the Mane 6's relationship with Spike feels a little loose, in canon and in fanfiction. That's something I look forward to Hasbro fixing with the coming season, among other things. Read this and think what you want to think. And brilliant story, LightningSword! I've never cried yet reading a story, but some have got me very close and this is one of them!
One more thing...
That was cute. I liked it.
6323649
Whoopsie-daisy, musta been high when I wrote that.
6324582 I get what you're saying friend and I can respect that; you're not the only one who's been pushed to suicide. Perhaps I'm jaded, but I care about what people do, not what they say. Rarity can say whatever she wants to if she thinks it'll make Spike feel better, but her past actions, and the actions of all the others, speak much louder than any sorry ever could. And we all know what they did in the past. It was said in the story:P
That's why it feels like nothing has changed.
Nicely done! This is a great story about Spike, and I really appreciate how it is both respectful of him as an individual and deals head-on with the issues he faces being by far the youngest of Twilight's circle of friends.
6324833 Thank you. And thanks for the favorite.
6324036 I understand. I'm sorry you feel that way. Thanks for reading, anyway.
The feels!!!
This is really good, well done
This certainly caught my interest; the long description especially intrigued me. As such, I have formed an opinion.
The story, here, intact, is great. Your idea is given just the right amount of life. I think you picked a great time to start it and the prior conversation that Twilight and Spike had prior to the story beginning was irrelevant, as it would be the obvious conversation we knew they already had. Kudos on that choice.
Good sense of progression, the story didn't really drag out much, and attention was drawn to exactly the right things to keep the story moving and interesting.
On that note, the wording choice was a little bland. I found myself getting bored about 700 words in and thinking, "Eh, I'll just skip ahead and see how it ends." Which is a shame, because a story that built up to the end would have been far more enriching overall, I think. So, the substance is there, and I think it's just about the perfect length... you just need to spruce it up to sound more enrapturing.
At the risk of sounding patronizing, it sounds like a teenager's word choice. All that's needed is someone with a dictionary in their head and some acute attention to sentence structure to make everything more vibrant, more exciting. Half of the struggle in being an author is making your thoughts sound as good on paper as they do in your head.
For being a fairly ambitious project that was written slightly under expectations, you have earned yourself a 7/10. You are on par with Pacific Rim.