Fuzzies

by Palm Palette

Freaking Twilight

The morning brought with it an angry chorus of squawking birds. They crowed and cawed before the sun even rose. Twilight groaned and pulled her covers over her head. She hadn't slept well, tossing and turning, haunted by the events of the night. A goose landed on her windowsill and screeched. Golden Oaks Library was normally a great place to live, but it also attracted birds, a lot of birds. Whenever they made a ruckus, there wasn't much she could do.

An errant thought popped into her mind. Fluttershy would know what was bothering them. She snorted and flopped a pillow over her head. That freak had probably sent them after her, to punish the townsponies in sheer spite.

A fuzzy! An actual, stinking fuzzy!

Her mind reeled at the atrocity. How long had Fluttershy been hiding it? That deep down, she was a monster all along? That she wasn't even a real pony? How could she ever have been friends with something like that?

Owlowiscious flew in from his night prowl and took up his usual perch. He ruffled his feathers and dozed off as the sun rose in the sky. At least the owl was well behaved. She pulled the window shut, and the sharp slam startled several birds away. “Five more minutes,” she muttered, turning away from the window as a beam of sunlight crept down the wooden wall.

Those five minutes came and went. She was just about to doze off again when her alarm clock rang, rattling the room with bells. Groaning, she flopped out of the sheets and slapped the thing, shutting it off. With great lethargy, she dragged herself to the restroom to freshen up. She had deep bags under her eyes and her mane was wild and frazzled. This day was off to a great start. Yep. Truly great. It took a while for her to tame that mass of rebellious hair.

At breakfast, she found Spike already up. She grabbed a granola bar and sighed. She didn't have time for a proper breakfast. While chowing down the unhealthy meal, she stared at the little green and purple dragon. He'd been in Canterlot yesterday, helping Luna with the festivities and hadn't gotten back until everything had happened. As much as she hated breaking bad news, he needed to know.

“Spike, I'm not sure how to say this, but there's something that you need to know about Fluttershy.”

“Did something happen to her?” The baby dragon looked up from his bowl of oatmeal with wide eyes.

“It's, well...” Twilight bit her lip and dragged her hooves. “She's changed, Spike. She's part tiger now.”

“Huh?” Staring back, he was truly perplexed.

“She had this striped tail, long and cat-like, and striped ears to match, and who knows what else?” Twilight waved her hoof in the air, drawing shapes to match her words.

Spike set down his spoon. “So... she's a cat now?”

“Worse!” Twilight leaned down and spoke softly, hissing her words as if they were toxic. “She's a fuzzy.”

“A what?”

“A fuzzy! An animal hybrid. A horrible abomination. Listen to me. It's very important that you stay away. I don't want you going anywhere near her.”

“What? Why not?” He raised an eyebrow, scratching his head.

“Because she's a fuzzy,” Twilight said, as if that explained everything.

“So?”

“So? So!” Stomping a hoof, the table shook and rattled the dishes. “Being a fuzzy is just plain wrong. They're... They're crazy! They act like wild animals. They could lash out and hurt you! You don't want to get hurt, do you?”

Tilting his head, he gave her an odd look. “Are you sure you're talking about Fluttershy? She'd never hurt a fly.”

“Yes! She's a fuzzy now!” Twilight growled. She was jittery, shaking and clenched her eyes shut. Her ears flipped up and she gasped. “That's probably why the birds were so riled up! She was probably chasing them. That's proof.” She raised her nose in the air, perfectly imitating a Canterlot snob.

Spike blinked several times. “Really?” he asked. He cast his eyes down, staring at his cooling breakfast.

“Yes, really,” Twilight said. She paused, and tapped her chin. “I know it's awful, but life isn't fair.”

He looked up again, hopeful. “You can help her, right? There's a way to fix this?”

“Fix her?” Twilight bit her lip. “Spike, I...” She shook her head, eyes watering. Unable to meet his gaze, she looked out a round, open window, wincing and squinting. A sunbeam lit the bookshelves next to her now-averted head. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “There's no cure. Ponies have tried for centuries. Nothing works. We'll just—we'll just have to...”

“Have to what?”

Sniffling, she blew her nose and stared at the wall. For a while, she did little but breathe, and when she turned to face him, her eyes were puffy, red, and moist. “We have to let her go. She can't be our friend anymore.”

“What!? You can't be serious!” In his shock, he knocked his bowl over. Oatmeal spilled on the floor.

“I am, Spike. She betrayed us. She's a-a-fuzzy. Normal ponies don't associate with their kind.”

“Why not?” he asked, staring forlornly at his lost breakfast.

“You heard what I said, Spike. They're dangerous. They spread disease. They degrade society. They attack without warning. They're erratic and unpredictable. They're prone to-to—” Twilight bit her lip while staring at Spike's wide, innocent eyes. “—hurting themselves,” she eventually mumbled.

“But Fluttershy's not like that. She wouldn't do any of those things.” He paused, blinked, and scratched his head. “And how does somepony 'degrade society,' anyway?” he mumbled. Hopping out of his seat, he picked up the fallen bowl and started wiping the floor.

Staring straight, Twilight's lips quivered. Her puffy eyes watered, and one spilled over to trickle down her cheek. She twitched, and her mane snapped, wild with loose, rebellious hairs springing out.

“No! Not Fluttershy!” she wailed. Lunging, she snatched Spike off the ground and clung to him like a pillow. He winced and struggled. Whipping him around, his eyes rolled around in his head as she levitated him in front of her face. “Spike, we have to save her! Quick, bring me that Magical Maladies reference book, and Pony Health Problems and The Modern Medicine Complete Encyclopedia, Volume V, F-He and—” She dropped him and tapped her hooves together as she listed book after book.

“Wha—? But you just said there's no cure.” He wobbled, trying to keep his balance.

“Then we'll have to find one!” She stomped her hoof on the ground, standing tall and proud.

Spike nodded and ran to work, scouring the library's shelves for the selected tomes. He gathered as many books as he could, ignoring the growing stain on the floor from his spilled breakfast.

Furrowing her brow, Twilight snatched open the thickest and heaviest book in the pile. She went right to work, sitting on her haunches and delving deep into the content of a dry, archaic encyclopedia. Her eyes widened and she frowned. “What!? But...” Biting her lip, she shook her head. With a thump, the book disturbed a patch of dust on the floor. “No. How could I forget about that? It's too dangerous to even try. Attempting to cure the problem only makes it worse.”

“It does?” Spike held a tome, half-pulled off the shelf. When he saw her droop her head, he shoved it back and walked over. “Is it really that bad?”

Sniffling, Twilight nodded. “It's worse than bad. Give me a few minutes to double-check, but I don't think we have anything that can help.” With a sigh, she pulled the next book off the pile and scanned for the relevant entry. She shook her head and set it aside. Her ears gradually drooped as she went through tome after tome.

Spike took the opportunity to mop up his breakfast. After all, one had to be very careful with food in a library as cockroaches and other bugs can do terrible damage to the books. It took several sheets of paper towels but he managed to get the floor sparkling and clean. His stomach grumbled at the loss of food. It was likely going to be a very long day. “Any luck?” he asked, glancing at Twilight's dwindling pile of books.

“No.” She sighed. “This last one just recommends banishment. I mean, what kind of medical book recommends that? I know that's what everypony does, but you'd think they'd be more delicate and dance around the issue by calling it an 'indefinite quarantine' or something.”

“Banishment?” Clenching his teeth, he hissed as he drew a sharp breath. “Is that really necessary? You said it's just a striped tail and ears and stuff. So Fluttershy looks a little different. So what?”

“Haven't you been listening? It's everything!” Twilight slapped the ground, shaking the useless books. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Nnngh!” After taking a short breath, she snapped back to attention, eyes red and puffy and face wild. “It's worse than everything! It's... It's...” She crumpled up, burying her face in her forelegs. “Fluttershy. It couldn't have happened to a nicer pony. Spike, I was so stupid. I kept calling that weird deer-bunny thing an abomination right in front of her. Of course she wanted to tell me but she couldn't because—” She cut off, eyes wide, staring off into the distance as if the wall wasn't there.

Waving an arm in front of her face, Spike asked, “Um, Twilight?”

She didn't blink. “Augh! What am I saying!” Pulling her mane, the frazzled unicorn started pacing in circles. “All fuzzies are abominations. Wait! I know! Maybe I've been thinking about this all wrong. Perhaps the best cure is to eliminate the problem in the first place. Do we still have Unabridged Atrocity: 500 Spells that Should Never be Cast? There's a section in there about trans-species reassignment. If Fluttershy can't be a real pony, then she can be a tree!”

Holding his hands up, Spike crept back. Somehow, a missed breakfast seemed the least of his problems. “Um, Twilight, you're acting really weird, so, um, I'll just be...” He quickly darted to the doorway, inching down the stairs with only his head poking through the arch into the room “...over here.” He ducked out of sight, beads of sweat rolling down his purple scales. He quickly scribbled down a note, took a deep breath, and burned it with his green dragon flame. The ashes sparkled and wafted out a nearby window.

A bright flash of magenta light made Spike poke his head back in the room. Twilight's horn was smoldering, and there was a scraggly, wilted potted willow where the table used to be. She was rubbing her hooves together and her eyes were darting around, searching for a new target.

A rumble in his tummy caught Spike off-guard. He doubled over, letting out a huge belch. A giant jet of flame incinerated the wayward sapling and singed the fur on Twilight's muzzle. She yelped and jumped back. Out of the smoke popped a scroll, sealed with wax stamped with the royal symbol. Twilight snatched it from the air with her magic and drew it close.

“Oh no! Of course Celestia would have heard about this! The whole town saw Fluttershy! And of course she'll want me to, um...” She blinked and stared at the still-sealed scroll. “As her number one student, it falls on me to, um...”

Spike groaned and got up. “Want you to what?”

She shut one eye and grimaced as she cracked the seal. When the letter unfurled, she peeked at it, then opened both eyes and stared. “That's weird.”

“What?”

“She wants me to listen to my friends. What do you suppose she means by that?” Twilight's tone was almost normal, conversational, slightly raspy, though.

Wiping his forehead, Spike let out a sigh of relief. He shrugged. “That you should talk to them?”

She blinked. “Oh! Of course! They're bound to be devastated. This is a great opportunity for learning about friendship. C'mon, Spike!” She stooped low and motioned for him to get on her back, which he did, grabbing onto her ruffled mane. “We need to get out there and console our friends!”

Comments

[JazzyWaffles]

“Why not?” he asked, staring forlornly at his lost breakfast.

In a bizarre turn of events, ponies are mentally deficient and SPIKE is the intelligent force in the world.

“Oh! Of course! They're bound to be devastated. This is a great opportunity for learning about friendship. C'mon, Spike!”

Twilight, you're a terrible friend.

[Shadowshame]

8561710
I think even in the canon series spike is a bit more mature than most of the ponies who are adults