Growing Pains

by Sixes_And_Sevens

The Next Three Months

“Bleaaaaah…” Spike said, staring into the mirror. He flicked his tongue out. In. Out. In.

Starlight frowned at him. “Can't you just brush your teeth?” she said reproachfully.

Spike turned to look at her. “Eckthcuthe me? Hath it ethkaped you how freakin’ awethome thith ith?”

The pink unicorn scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes to block out the onslaught of spittle. “Yes. Yes it has,” she said neutrally. “I’m happy for you, Spike, but I don't think this is a particular upside of your growth.”

The dragon stuck his tongue out, perhaps in an attempt to blow a raspberry at the unicorn. All that came out, however, was a drawn-out, rattling hiss. He crossed his eyes in an attempt to see his tongue, and for all her irritation Starlight simply had to smile.

She quickly covered it with a hoof when the dragon glared at her. “Fine. Tho a forked tongue ithn’t that utheful. Tho thue me for being exthithed that I’m akthually growing up?”

Starlight let her hoof drop back to the smooth crystal of the bathroom floor. “I’m just happy that you're happy, Spike.” She paused. “Well, I’m also happy that Fluttershy recommended you a speech therapist, but it's mostly because you're happy that I'm happy.”

The dragon grinned. “Well, I’m happy you're happy becauthe I'm happy,” he said. Then he paused. “Huh. You think thith thort of feedback loop is how Pinkie functionth?”

“I don't doubt,” Starlight said.

The dragon hummed. “Hey, Thtarlight.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe a forked tongue ithn’t very utheful,” Spike said, picking up the toothbrush by the wrong end. “But do you know what is?”

Starlight’s eyes went wide as the dragon’s tongue flicked out and wrapped around the toothbrush handle before pulling it back into his mouth. “Prehent’ile tung,” he said indistinctly through a mouthful of toothpaste and a broad grin. Starlight stared, frozen and covered in toothpaste spittle.

***

Spike scowled, arms crossed over his chest. Apple Bloom was clearly doing her best not to laugh. Granny Smith clearly had fewer compunctions, and the old mare was bent double over her walker, busting a gut. “Yeah, yeah, very funny,” the drake grumbled. “Somepony get me outta here before my neck goeth stiff?”

Applejack shook her head. “How’d’y’all even get into this mess ta start with?”

Spike grumbled too low for anypony to hear. “Come again, sugarcube?”

“I forgot my spineth had osthified,” Spike repeated hotly.

Applejack looked blank. “Turned ta bone,” Mac supplied from the other side of the tree.

“How’d ya know that off th’ top o’ yer noggin?” Applejack asked, impressed.

Mac smirked. “Discord tried ta noogie ‘im at O’n’O last Saturday,” he replied.

Spike smiled for a second at the memory. “Tho, uh, about getting me unstuck?”

Applejack studied the tableau. The dragon’s tail was whipping around in agitation. Absently, she noticed the tip must be ossi-whatsit-ing, too, as it was fading from purple into green. The rest of his beanpole body was twisted over, his spines well and truly embedded in the bark of Jake. “What exactly were ya tryin’ ta do ta this here tree?” she asked.

Spike shifted, now even more uncomfortable. “Can we thave my neck firtht before I anthwer that? Only I think it's going numb.”

Applejack sighed. “Mac, come round here an’ tug,” she ordered. Her brother nodded, and both Apples trotted around the tree. Mac stood and gripped Spike tightly around the chest. “On mah say-so,” Applejack said firmly.

“Uh, what'th going on?” Spike said nervously.

Mac just gripped tighter. “Pull!” Applejack said. A split second later, there was a thump as the mare's hooves hit the trunk.

Spike stumbled backwards and toppled over Mac. Both of them landed in the dust. There was a long moment. “Ow.”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack trotted back around. “Now, s’pose ya explain what yer doin’ assaultin’ innocent apple trees,” she said, voice tinged with impatience.

Apple Bloom chuckled. “Aw, Ah kin tell ya that, sis. We were talkin’ bout th’ Power Ponies, see, an’ he said that Radiance was hookin’ up with Humdrum but Ah said it was purty plain she was with Mistress Marevelous, right? An’ he gets so fed up he tries ta bang his head on a tree. An’ he gets stuck!” She burst out laughing all over again.

Spike crossed his arms. “Laugh all you like, Bloom, at leatht Radrum has a canon kith.”

The filly snorted. “Sure. On th’ cheek.”

Applejack was unamused. “Awright, that's enough. No more talk ‘bout, what's it called, shipping Radrum or Marediance or nothing if it's gonna be this much trouble.” The words were foreign on her lips and felt contrived to her mind.

“That's right,” Mac agreed, and Applejack felt a wash of relief. At least he knew what he was talking about. “Anyhow, Radizapp is th’ only believable ship Radiance’s got!”

And there went the relief. Applejack sighed and turned beseechingly to Granny. The old mare scowled. “Radizapp mah sweet patootie! All them tights-wearin’ gang are doin’ it ah tell ya! They're a herd an’ no doubt about it, an’ ah wouldn't be none too surprised if that Mare-Do-Well had more ta do with ‘em than crossovers!”

Applejack shut her eyes and walked away, shaking her head.

***

“Okay,” Lyra said, studying Spike minutely. “Now, you have been practicing, right?”

The dragon looked affronted. “Of courthe,” he rumbled. He coughed, then squeaked, “You remember I live with Twilight, right?”

The mint mare chuckled. “Very true. Alright, I want you to start with longevity and temperature control.” She levitated over two thick metal plates and a little filament. “Get soldering.”

Spike put on a pair of tinted goggles. Then he took in a deep breath through his nose and pursed his lips as though to whistle. A thin gout of green-white flame shot out, and Lyra glanced away. Twilight stared for a moment longer through a welding mask. Then she too looked away. “I don't think I ever said, but I really can't thank you enough for this,” she said in an undertone. “I was going crazy trying to teach him new spells on my own.”

Lyra patted her old friend on the withers. “Ah, it was nothing,” she said breezily. “I'm just happy you thought to ask me. Getting to work with an actual, natural magic-born dragon? Tartarus, I would've been crazy to say no.”

“I take it this is a big deal, then.”

Lyra stared at her. “Twilight, do you know anything about cryptobiology? Magic-born dragons are incredibly rare, and incredibly powerful. And that's all anypony knows about them. All the lore is just, well, legends, filtered through actual generations of ponies. The best sources we have are from the longma, and those are older than the princesses.” She waved a hoof. “You couldn't pay me to not check this out.”

Spike suddenly cut off, wheezing. Lyra turned and levitated the piece of metal away from him. She held it up close to her face, so near she could feel the heat radiating off of it. “Not bad. It's a clean solder, what there is of it. I see we're going to want to work on endurance.” She nodded. “Right. Telekinetic drills today, I think.”

Spike groaned. “Aw, man. Thothe are the worth— worst,” he corrected himself. “I wanted to learn how to breathe lightning.”

“Ooh, that sounds awesome!” Lyra agreed, eyes sparkling. “I think with practice, you could even try out transfiguration spells!” She caught herself, glancing over at Twilight. “But not right now. Right now, I want you to levitate that table for as long as you can, and when you’ve done that, I want you to do it for twice as long. And then we can have ice cream. Ok?”

Spike sighed. “Alright,” he said dutifully.

Twilight smiled. “I see he's in good hooves here. I need to go now, though, there's a trade deal with the reindeer that I’ve been sent to work out. See you both later!” There was a flash of lavender light, and she was gone.

Lyra waited a moment. “Okay, I think she was legit.”

Spike grinned. “So, what’re we really going to try today?” he asked, voice cracking like a dropped vase.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe a little thing I like to call… transforming me into a human!” Lyra grinned widely, pulling out a spellbook.“We’ll start small, of course, turtles into teapots, water into wine, stuff like that.”

“Awesome,” Spike said, taking the book from the unicorn. Then, he paused. “Hey, Lyra. Do you think maybe we should actually work on technique one of these days?”

The mare just raised an eyebrow at him. “Right, right, silly question,” Spike nodded. “Bring on the teapot-to-be!”

***

Dragon Lord Ember regarded the purple drake with a thoughtful glint in her eye. He smiled nervously. “Uh, Ember? Are you going to order a drink, or…”

She blinked. Spike and… bug king… were staring at her oddly, and the red-purple pony was merely gazing up at her colossal form with bored, patient eyes. “Uh, mead. With crushed rubies.”

The pony shook her (his? They all looked the same…) head. “Sorry, no rubies today. We've got sapphire or garnet, though.”

“Mph. How about pyrite?”

“Sure,” said the probably-a-mare, jotting it down in her notebook. “One tutti-frutti-root beer, a crushed-sapphire lemonade, and a mead with pyrite.” She trotted back into the bar. Ember was frankly amazed that the whole place was made of wood. In the Dragonlands, anything wooden ended up as cinders pretty darn quick.

“So, Spike,” said bugpony, leaning on the table. “How’s your, um, growth been coming?”

Her fellow dragon shrugged. “Pretty okay, I guess.” His voice was deeper, now that he had grown some, Ember noted. He wasn’t anywhere near her stature, but it wasn’t a small growth spurt by any means.

“Twilight thinks I'm progressing pretty well, but she doesn't have much data to run with. Actually, I was hoping Ember could shed some light on some stuff.”

She cocked her head. “Uh, yeah, I guess. What's been eating you?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “Well, see, I’ve been getting all these weird urges lately,” he said in an undertone. “Whenever I see something, I just get this desire to wrap my claws around it and take it. It's been keeping me up at night, and--”

“Oh-kay!” green bug said, cutting across his friend. “Uh, maybe this should be a private conversation, Spike.” Wait. Why was green bug pink?

Spike rolled his eyes. “Thorax,”— thatwas his name!— “I’m not talking about the birds and the bees, here. I had that talk with Twilight already.”

Borax blinked. “The what and the who? I thought you were talking about your love intake.”

Ember snorted. “Dragons don't have that, Lorax,” she reminded him.

“It's Thorax,” said Pharynx.

“Right, what I said,” Ember replied. “Anyway, that's just your hoarding instinct kicking in. You're going to want to start collecting precious stuff, then sleep on that. Normal dragon behavior.”

Spike winced. “I dunno. The last time I gave into the Greed Growth was kind of--”

Ember all but slammed her fist on the table. “You what?” she demanded, breathing heavily. “How is Ponytown—”

“Ponyville.”

“That's what I said, Appendix. How is it not a smoking ruin?”

“I got better,” Spike protested.

Ember glared. “Obviously,” she grated. “You will explain. Later. Anyway, this is not Greed Growth. Greed Growth is the hoarding instinct denied for too long, bursting out of you. The hoarding instinct, that's just the dragon way. We keep stuff. Shiny rocks, gold, armor, stuff like that. Valuables. Helps us gain self-importance, so it helps us grow.”

Spike nodded. “Okay… but how do I keep it in check?”

“You give in,” Ember said simply. “You either let it out slowly, stay in control, or you let it build up until it explodes.” She shrugged. “You don't have to sleep on it if you don't want to. It usually helps, though.”

Larynx nodded. “I guess I see what you mean,” he said (wait. Asterix was a he, right?). “It's like with Changelings. Under Chrysalis, when we were all starving, it would be pretty easy to drain a pony dry of love. But now that we have a more available supply, none of our sources get hurt.”

Ember shrugged. “Sure, if you like.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Okay… I guess I can start collecting, um, books. Those can be pretty valuable. Twilight can get me started, and I've got a bunch of comics, too.”

Sardonyx turned to Ember. “So, uh, what do you collect?”

Ember glanced at the Bloodstone Scepter, leaning against the table. It was a touch disfigured with dents and bumps, now. A slow grin crept across Ember’s face as she remembered some of the fun she'd been able to have with Garble and some other old enemies, and how nearly half of one wall of her room was covered in little crossed-out dragon silhouettes.

“Points,” she said, sharp, sparkling teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

***

Spike, for all his recent growth, remained utterly unchanged in some regards. He read comics. He played tabletop games with Macintosh, Discord, and some other local nerds. He still loved and respected Twilight as a big sister/mother/dangerous but beloved eccentric best friend. And he was still very much not a morning person. He grumbled to himself as he gently flicked his alarm clock off with a claw, and they were proper claws now, yellowed and bony things that had broken painfully through his fingers and toes and needed careful filing.

His head listed lazily to one side as he rose from the bed, something which he attributed to his cricked neck. He had to be careful about sleeping on his back, these days. His tough spines could easily rip any pillows, so he’d taken to snoozing on his side in the new, full-sized bed Twilight had given him some weeks ago, after he had well and truly outgrown his old basket. He scratched his chin idly as he walked to the bathroom. He stared blankly at the mirror for a long moment. Why was he here? What was the purpose of life? Why was there a pillow attached to his head? Was meaning inherent in words, or assigned randomly?

Oh. Cold water. Face. Apply to. He splashed himself liberally. It helped. Slightly. Spike grunted and went down to breakfast.

The table was empty. Spike processed this. “Twilight?”

“Yes, Spike?” the alicorn replied. The voice had come from… the kitchen. Good sign.

“When's breakfast?”

“Just a sec. I’m finishing up the scrambled eggs now.” Twilight said. “Starlight and Sunburst still aren't up, I take it?”

Spike blinked. “Nah.”

“Huh. Well, more for us, then,” Twilight said cheerfully. Her innate morning cheerfulness wore at the dragon. He lay his head on the table. So soft, cozy, like a pillow had already been set down for him. Maybe he could close his eyes for just a few more minutes…

“Hope you're hungry,” Twilight said as she left the kitchen, levitating plates of scrambled eggs, biscuits, hay bacon, and muffins behind her. “I figured since we had a guest I’d make a little extra, but—” she cut herself off with a sigh. Spike was snoozing away on the table. He’d even brought along a pillow with him! Twilight may have loved him like a little brother/son/devoted but slightly paranoid best friend, but she refused to stand for sleeping at the table. “Spike,” she said firmly, setting down the plates. “Wake up.”

No dice. The alicorn shrugged. Plan B it would be, then. She lit her horn, and a sound like a cannon tore through the room. Spike’s head jerked up. “Ah! The answer is C! Propraetor-General Cyclone!”

Twilight raised a brow. “Were you taking a history test… in your sleep? Spike, I have never been more proud…” she paused. “How did you manage to impale a pillow on your head-fins?”

Spike blinked at her stupidly, then reached up to rub at said fins. “Ow!”

He jerked his hand away, more out of surprise than pain. “Horns,” he muttered, incredulous. “I have horns.”

Twilight carefully pulled the impaled pillow off the dragon’s head. “I think this may call for a new sleeping situation,” she said thoughtfully. “That, or learning to file down some of your sharper parts.”

Another explosion rocked the room. “The castle is under attack!” a female voice shouted. “Man the battle stations!”

“Beds don't have battle stations!” a male voice shouted back. “What do we do?”

“Make some!”

Spike and Twilight stared at one another. “We're gonna end up with the world’s biggest pillow fort, aren't we,” Twilight said.

Spike nodded. “Wanna go help?”

The alicorn hesitated. “Breakfast first?”

“Sure.”

“No, Sunburst, flying buttresses first, tapestries last!”

“This is a flying buttress!”

Twilight sighed. It was hard being the only morning person in the castle.

***

“The dread dragon Vortigern stalks toward its prey,” Spike murmured, peering around a corner. The Crusaders were wandering along the corridors of the darkened castle. Not only were they slowly picking their way through the dark, they were even walking away from him. This would be too easy.

On silent, sock-clad feet, he slipped stealthily down the hallway, keeping to the pillars and shadowy corners. He’d painted himself midnight blue to better blend with the icy colors of the crystal castle at night. Not that it mattered; in this level of light, ponies could barely see at all. He, on the other hoof, had built-in night vision. Tapetum lucidum, Twilight had called it. He’d had it all his life, but with his new size and speed, he could finally use it for this prank.

He chuckled under his breath, but stopped when Button Mash glanced back. “Did you guys hear something?” he asked, stepping a little closer to Sweetie Belle.

“I don't think so,” Rumble said.

They continued along. Spike slipped silently after them. He wished he'd thought to bring a cloak, or maybe a fake moustache. Add to the epicness. While he was thinking about that, he banged his shin on a lump of crystal. He cursed quietly.

“Ah!” Sweetie said, smashing into Button’s side. “Now I heard something!”

“It's your imagination,” Dinky said. “I tried to tell you guys not to play Last Weekend at Freddie’s, but you didn't listen.”

Apple Bloom nodded sagely. “Ya shoulda played that there Adventure Plumber Brothers Beat Up Evil Spiny Turtle-Dog and Save a Princess. Ain't nopony gets nightmares offa that.”

“Says you,” Scootaloo said. “Rainbow Dash won't let that game in her house. Says it scares Tank.”

Spike shuddered. He wasn't exactly fond of that game either. He did not give out free piggyback rides, thanks much, especially if the rider shoved him into a spike pit just to jump higher. He snapped out of it just in time to realize the Crusaders were rounding a corner. He quickly hurried after them, still sneaking along from pillar to pillar. He skidded around the corner and realized he was set to crash straight into a suit of armor. He hit the brakes, digging his claws in, but remembered too late that he was in socks. He decelerated, bracing for the inevitable impact. It never came. He stopped just before the armor, chest to crest.

Whew, he thought to himself. Close one. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding.

“AAHHH!” Sweetie and Button screamed, clinging together.

“Button!” Sweetie shouted.

“Sweetie!” Button yelled.

“SAVE MEEEE!” they wailed in perfect harmony.

“Oh for crying out loud.” Scootaloo turned around to glare at a spot in the shadows. “Knock it off, kerosene-breath, before you give both of them an apoplexy!”

Spike hung his head and slunk out of the shadows, under the silent stare of the six. “How did you know it was me?” he asked plaintively.

The orange filly rolled her eyes. “Exactly who else around here has flashlights for eyes?” she asked.

“Oh,” said Spike. “Huh. Yeah. I remember Twilight really freaking out about that when I was hatched.”

“Get thou back, demonspawn!” the kindergarten-age unicorn said, holding aloft an emblem of Princess Celestia’s cutie mark. “Begone and trouble us no further!”

The nightmare creature blinked. “Wanna glass of water,” it said.

“If such is sacrificed,” said Twilight in what she probably thought was a dramatic tone, “wilt thou then retire from whence you came?”

The being thought about this. “Twiley tuck me in an’ read me bedtime story?” it asked hopefully.

“The pact has been sealed,” said the unicorn, as gravely as a six-year-old filly possibly could. “The deeds will be done as you command, o master of darkness.”

The creature grinned, showing its few teeth, terrible and sharp. “Gimme cookie?”

“Nay, say I, forsooth thy teeth have been brushed already once tonight! Water, tucking-in, and a story will be all which you receive, for it is late and past both our bedtimes!”

The demon-child sighed. “Okee. Carry?”

Twilight frowned. “It shall so be,” she said reluctantly, picking up the little dragon and popping him on her back.

Night Light watched them go with deep paternal fondness as he stood in the doorway to the master bedroom. “They grow up so fast, don't they, hon?”

Twilight Velvet glanced up from her typewriter and smiled at her husband. “Yes. We should really make the most of our time with her.” The smile faded. “Nightie, your mane is turning back into fronds again.”

“Oop!” The stallion ran a hoof over the back of his head. “Shoot. Maybe we should see a doctor about that. Or a licensed mage. Or somepony.”

“I mean, that was also when she was going through her demonology phase, so I guess that had something to do with it, too.” Spike concluded.

The Crusaders just stared at him. “Y’all had one weird-flank childhood, didn'tcha,” Apple Bloom observed.

Spike smiled. “Says the filly who tried to get her cutie mark in quiltmaking, ethical dilemmas, abecedarianism, hallucinating, and bocce ball all in the last week.”

“Statement rescinded,” Bloom said without a blink.

Rumble coughed. “So, if you're all finished with sneaking around in the shadows, any chance you can help us find our camp again?”

Spike shrugged. “Sure. What's this all in aid of again?”

“Indoor survival cutie marks,” Dinky informed him.

“We were gonna do outdoor survival, but it's really cold out and there are bats.” Button explained.

“Fair enough,” Spike said. Then he sniffed at the air. “Is that smoke?”

“Rumble, did you remember to put out the campfire?” Dinky asked.

The colt’s eyes went wide. “I thought that was your job!”

The Crusaders all stared at each other in horror. Spike sighed. “Never mind. Everypony this way. It's honestly kinda sad that we have a fire escape route for a building made entirely of crystal…”

Author's Note:

Short, sweet, and funny; a break from all the heavy emotions that have been flying around this story. Up next, the final chapter of this tale.

Comments

[Klamnei]

So, will Spike be getting wings? I've heard that might be a thing that gets addressed in a later episode this season...

[Sixes_And_Sevens]

8907712
I'm afraid not. I planned this out rather before that was announced. Anyway, he's already growing to the size of about three ponies and is learning how to breathe magic, and I thought wings might be overkill.

[Coyote de La Mancha]

8908000
No such thing as dragon overkill.