• Published 21st Dec 2012
  • 6,739 Views, 200 Comments

Doctor Whooves - A Hearth's Warming Tale - Loyal2Luna



Alone for the holidays, Scootaloo is drawn into a strange adventure with Spike and the Doctor as cheer and goodwill disappear from Ponyville's residents. Can they uncover the cause and fix the problem in time to save Hearth's Warming?

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Ch. 2: Tidings of Gloom and Doom

Chapter 2: Tidings of Gloom and Doom

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh....”

There was a moment of utter silence in Canterlot Castle following the bloodcurdling scream. Princess Luna and two fillies stared with wide eyes at the beige earth pony who uttered it, while she looked back at them with a wide smile on her face.

“What? I can’t add some theatrical effect?”

“My eee-he-hears…” Daring whined slightly, on account of having been right next to the obnoxiously loud filly when she decided to mirror Scootaloo’s cry, bringing her hooves up to rub on the sides of her head. “My poor, poor ears...”

“Give us a little warning next time, Cream!” Dawn shouted while she shook her head, trying to get the ringing to stop.

Princess Luna sighed, mostly to suppress a snicker as she pulled herself up.

“Hold on, my fillies,” the alicorn expressed patiently while walking to the door. “I need to go and make sure that the guards do not get the wrong idea. I’ll be right back.”

Moving out of sight and closing the door behind her, Daring, Cream, and Dawn sat up and looked to one another.

“Thanks, Cream! Now the suspense is killing me!” Daring said, crossing her forelegs together.

“Do you think this is really a true story?” Dawn questioned. “It doesn’t seem very likely that that sort of series of events could just pop up like that.”

“What’s not to believe about it?” Cream responded. “I mean, you always believed the legends about Discord. And I think those are way more farfetched than this story."

“That’s different. All of those stories are back up by recorded history. You’ve all seen the windows in Canterlot Tower.”

“Do you think Scootaloo’s gonna be okay?” Daring was now rubbing her hooves together and looking around nervously. “Nets... Ugggh, I’m cringing just thinking about it,” she said, giving a little shudder and spreading her tiny wings out of reflex.

“It’s just a story, Daring,” Dawn tried to comfort her friend, surprised at how anxious she was becoming in the short time that her Auntie Lu had stepped out. “I’m sure it’ll turn out just fine.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Cream spoke up. “You know, my mom says that every time a new story is told, somewhere, in some place, it actually happens. So as we hear it, it’s all like it’s happening all over again somewhere.”

“That’s gotta be scary for Scootaloo,” Daring nodded.

“Oh, ponyfeathers, girls. That’s just silly.” Dawn shook her head, her expression superior and academic. “A story is just a story, meant to entertain and educate. It’s all in your imaginations.”

The little unicorn took no notice as something dark blue silently rose up along the side of the bed, a mischievous grin over her royal face. Meanwhile, Cream and Daring watched as their friend continued to lecture, drawing closer to one another as Luna rose to loom over them.

“Just because you tell a story doesn’t make it feel like it’s actually happening. All you have to do is look out for the literary devices and then you can see the twist and turns coming from a mile awa--”

“DOWN CAME THE NET!” Luna shouted, putting her hooves down on either side of Dawn with a theatrically loud tone, just a shade short of the Royal Canterlot as the unicorn filly turned with a perfectly pitched scream of shock and terror. Eyes wide with fright, she fell back into her friends, who were grinning wildly at her expense.

After waiting a few moments for Dawn’s blood pressure to resume normal levels, Luna cleared her throat before continuing from where she left off.

————————

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

Net! Trapped!

A pegasus’s greatest phobia: To be ensnared.

A primal, ancient fear gripped Scootaloo, and her immediate instinct was to fly, her wings flaring and buzzing as she darted forward at full steam and strained against the thickly threaded netting. Not that it mattered much; the weave was dense enough that not even her small hoof could fit through the holes.

Despite her efforts, the net didn’t even budge, the threads pressing into her fur and skin painfully as something held firm on the other end. In her panicked reaction, she dove in another direction to try and pull against the other side.

No good! NO GOOD! She was still caught!

She wailed again, tears streaming in her eyes as hundreds of horrible possibilities ran through her mind. She recalled stories from school of long bygone wars where griffins used nets against pegasi, and of accidents involving wings getting clipped and crippled because of entanglement. The thoughts crowded out all but the most basic instincts as she redoubled her efforts to escape, meaning that she also did not notice as somepony walked up to the struggling bundle of feathers, fur, and rope.

“Well, now... That was more... volatile than expected. Are all pegasi this high strung?”

“Only when you tie them up.”

“I see... Shouldn’t we... you know... let her out, then?”

“After what happened last time I made her mad? There’s no way I’m getting closer until she’s had a moment to calm down.”

Voices?

It must have been whoever trapped her! Where were they? She couldn’t tell. She wasn’t even sure which way was...

*BBBBZZZZTTTTTT-THUMP*

She hit the ground suddenly, her frantic panic causing her to lose her sense of altitude as she came back to the slushy earth. With the addition of her attackers’ voices and the jarring shock of landing, Scootaloo finally managed to find her voice.

“PLEASE LEMMEGOLEMMEGOLEMMEGOOO-HO-HO~! I’M SORRY!” she shouted, her hooves over her head as she trembled with fear and her heart hammering in her chest painfully. “WHATEVER I DID, I’M SORRY!!”

There was a painfully long moment where the only sound to be heard was that of her own strained breathing.

Then, through tear-filled eyes, she looked up...

...to see a familiar pair of brilliant emerald green pupils, marked with black slits.

“...Spike?”

“I’m really sorry about this,” the dragon child said, offering up his claws in an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t realize you had it that bad, but we had to slow you down long enough to--”

“Oh, wait a moment! I recognize this one,” the lilting voice from earlier piped up excitedly.

“Uh, Doc... Don’t. Just--”

“Scuttlebutt, right?”

Spike brought a claw to his face in a very clear expression of exasperation.

“Doc, just use the--”

“Or was it Scrappading?”

“DOC!” There was a bit of hiss to Spike’s tone, and the back and forth had managed to pull enough of Scootaloo’s thought processes back into functioning that she could actually take stock of her situation in spite of her still pounding heart and near blind panic.

Spike eyes were darting back and forth between her and...

And there he was... a chestnut brown colt with a spiky, darker brown mane. He stood over her with a smile as he wore a pair of tinted flight-goggles and a fancy brown vest with the red bow-tie. The hourglass proudly displayed on his flank completed the appearance of the stallion that she and her friends had been shadowing from afar for months now. Alongside the brown cuff he usually wore on his right hoof, his left was wrapped around by a curious metal bracelet, with stray wires poking out and topped by a spinning, blinking gizmo that beeped rhythmically as he held it up in her direction.

The encounter was surprising, to say the least. She hadn’t been this close to him since that time in the library on the day Apple Bloom broke her foreleg.

“Doctor... Clockwork?” she asked, her tone hesitant as she still tried to control her breathing

“So they tell me, but no need to be so formal, Subway Pop,” the stallion commented, looking down at the strange device on his foreleg as it started beeping even faster. “As I have told your friends several times, I really do just prefer ‘Doctor.’”

*Ding*

“Oh, good! It appears she’s not infected after all!” The Doctor grinned winningly to his scaled companion, who let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s something at least.”

“S...Spike... Doctor... Uhhh... I don’t wanna be... you know, rude... but...” Scootaloo stammered for a moment, struggling to contain herself. “...GET ME THE HAY OUT OF THIS THING!"

“Oh, right! Sorry! Sorry!” Spike moved quickly, pulling at the top of the net and scooping a claw under the edge, pulling it upward and mercifully prying away the threaded netting.

Scootaloo remained laying there, her barrel buried in the snow for a moment as her hooves trembled and her wings flexed in their regained freedom.

“There you go; all better,” Spike nodded, straightening up with a smile. “You know, I’ve always heard that pegasi had bad claustrophobia when it came to nets, but I’ve never actually seen--”

AGGHH!!” The orange foal dove at the purple dragon, her fearful tears now turned quite suddenly to a raw and volatile anger as she planted his scaly rump in the dirty snow of the alley.

“Oh, goodness me,” the Doctor commented, bringing his un-ladened hoof to his lips as he looked over her condition, his examination now unimpeded by the net.

“WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!? WHY WOULD YOU PUT ME IN SOMETHING LIKE THAT!? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!” Scootaloo cried as she ground her hooves into Spike’s shoulders; an action that hardly harmed the thick-scaled reptile, unlike the pain and betrayal in her voice, which caused him to cringe. “That is the one thing you don’t do to a pegasus! EVER! You don’t--”

The orange filly cut short as she felt a hoof on her shoulder, causing her tearful gaze to turn up to a set of deep blue eyes.

Shhhhh...” the Hourglass Stallion shushed her softly. “It’s alright. It’s over.”

Scootaloo exhaled...

And it was gone.

All of that fear... all of the anguish and pain... all of the anger that had followed. All of it was gone in an instant, leaving a feeling as if some balloon of emotions inside of her had suddenly deflated, the tears stopping so suddenly that she caught herself wondering why her cheeks felt wet.

After a moment, he smiled and nodded, removing his hoof from her shoulder and taking a step back.

If anything, now she was feeling embarrassed by her outburst, something that she just couldn’t explain.

“H...how did you do that?” she asked, drawing a pleased chuckle from the brown stallion.

“I’m the Doctor,” he replied, as if that explained everything. “I make things better. Now, if you could kindly step off of my reptilian companion, perhaps we can get back to what we were doing.”

Scootaloo, still confused, looked down to the dragon, who returned her glance with an apologetic look, before she pulled herself off of him.

The young dragon, for one, did not seem to have any hard feelings or show any sign of resentment, merely brushing his scales off and running his claws back across the fins on his cheeks.

“Actually, Doc,” Spike spoke up, shrugging with an accusing look towards the stallion. “We’re kinda back at square one. Unless you think she did it.”

“Did... what?” Scootaloo tilted her head, bringing up her hoof to wipe away the tears that were now cooling on her fur. “Do you guys know what’s happening? Everypony I’ve met today has been acting all mean and crazy.” The foal paused a moment as she regarded the two of them. ”Except for you two...”

“And you for some reason, my dear Suppabling,” the Doctor commented, bringing his left hoof over her again and running it a few inches above her fur.

*DING*

“Nope, still looks good. No negative emotional reading, no disrupted neural flows, no hormonal imbalance, no signs of fatigue. Did you sleep well last night?”

“Uhhh, yeah. Okay, I guess, except for this dumb lump that kept... Errr, wait a minute. My name’s Scootaloo.”

“That’s what I said... Shootemdown,” the Doctor stated somewhat absentmindedly as he looked over his odd device, which made several clicking and clunking sounds as he started to mutter under his breath. "Must be a real heart breaker, name like that."

“Nooooo... It’s--”

“Uh, Scoot? Word of advice: Don’t bother,” Spike broke in, offering a sympathetic expression. “It took him two days to get Twilight’s name down right. He kept calling her ‘Evening Glimmer’ and ‘Georgia’ and stuff like that. It’s just the way he is.”

“Still rather like Georgia, to be honest,” the colt muttered halfheartedly as he turned to the side, apparently distracted.

“Really?” Scootaloo looked past the dragon to the strange stallion. “I thought doctors were supposed to be smart.”

“He is,” the dragon defended quickly. “Really smart... like ‘Twilight level’ scary smart. But he’s also kinda... quirky.”

Quirky? the foal thought, looking past Spike to witness the brown stallion wandering over to one wall, running a hoof over it and speaking to himself the entire time right up until he leaned forward and gave the brick and mortar a long lick.

No. Granny Smith was quirky.

This pony had problems.

“Spike, what’s going on?”

The dragon opened his mouth to begin speaking when a sudden ominous sound came from the Doctor’s hoof-mounted device, causing him to turn with a concerned expression.

*beep-beep-beep-beep*

“Well, that’s bad.” The Doctor grimaced before he turned the hoof-device over, although what he was looking at, the foal didn’t know. “Not sure how bad yet, but certainly a bus, two taxis, and a long walk away from good.”

“Is it those things again?” Spike looked around in the air, his head moving from side to side as if he was trying to see something. “I thought we lost them!”

“What things? What’s happening?” Scootaloo looked around, also frantically trying to see what it was that had suddenly riled the adult pony and dragon.

“Hold on, they might not be tracking us. Signal’s still scattered. They could just be in proximity,” the Doctor comforted his scaled compatriot as he shifted on three hooves, still looking at his upraised left. “Still, we don’t want to be caught out in the open. We need to get to shelter.”

“Well, we can’t go back to the library,” Spike stated clearly.

“True. Angry mobs can be rather bothersome.”

“Angry... mobs?” Scootaloo was even more confused.

“Yeah... The sort that seem to think that all of the craziness going on is because of Twilight casting some sort of spell.” Spike rolled his eyes. “I mean, seriously? Blaming Twilight of all ponies because everypony’s at each other’s throats? Aside from the fact that she’s saved this town on how many occasions? And besides, she’s not even in Ponyville right now.”

“Sorry, Spike. Now is not the time,” the Doctor stated quickly, ending the discussion with a calm, but urgent tone before turning to the orange filly, his expression apologetic. “So sorry for the net and everything, Subtlelap. Feel free to bill me for the therapy later, but at this point it may behoove you to find somewhere to hide out until all of this blows over.”

“But...” Scootaloo was off balance, unsure what to say in the face of the stallion’s fast-talking as he turned and started away from her. Spike simply shrugged, allowing himself a small, noncommittal noise before he dashed forward, hopping up onto the stallion’s back with a practiced ease.

She watched them move away from her down the alley, her mind still reeling as she puzzled for a moment, trying to make some sort of sense out of what had been one very strange day.

That could have been the end of it, right there. She could have just let them walk away and stayed out of whatever weirdness had taken place.

But instead, as the colt and young dragon were about to turn around the corner down the alleyway, she did the one thing that she promised she would never do.

“You guys wanna come to my house?” she spoke up quickly, unsure what made her do it as she drew attention back to herself before adding: “Nopony else is home right now... It’s just me.”

Spike and the Doctor looked to one another a moment before they shared a small, agreeable nod.

“It’s gotta be better than when we tried to hide out at Fluttershy’s cottage,” Spike admitted, thankful that he had been so well-protected from the angry teeth and claws of the afflicted animals that surrounded the remote location.

“Indeed. Lead on, Segway Lane,” the Doctor nodded approvingly, which, oddly enough, made the foal immediately feel as if she had done the right thing by inviting them in.

Even though he still hadn’t gotten her name right.

————————

The door to the house on the corner of Derby and Bismarck opened with little fanfare, the orange foal quickly ducking inside. Her hooves slipped slightly on the doorstep as she had barely slowed her momentum enough to open the door, fearful that somepony might notice her as she darted across the street and past its threshold.

Holding it open for a few seconds, the filly all but slammed the door and threw the heavy bolt lock into place with one hoof as soon as the galloping brown stallion rushed inside.

“Okay, I think we’re safe... I don’t think anypony noticed us,” Scootaloo managed, still breathing heavily from her run as she moved over to one window and lifted the blinds.

There was a word for acting like this, she was sure of it. It started with a "P".

Where was Sweetie Belle when she needed her?

“Planning for a party?” The stallion’s voice caught her attention, a startled realization coming to mind as she turned towards the open dining room with a gasp.

“Welcome... home?” Spike started reading, seeming quite a bit more surprised by what was displayed.

“Oh! Uh, don’t mind that! Just…” The filly quickly jumped up on the table in the center of the dining room and then made a wing-assisted hop to grab hold of the banner that was now hanging limply from the low ceiling, easy snagging it with her teeth and dragging the whole thing down onto the table. “Sorry about the mess, I really wasn’t expecting to… I mean, I’m not really used to having guests. Not really supposed to invite anypony over without permission, you know.”

“I don’t think anypony will mind, given the circumstances,” the Doctor nodded, his expression thoughtful as he took note of the sagging nature of the banner that the filly was now wadding into a big ball on the floor. She then added to the pile the long-neglected balloons that were laying half-deflated around the table in Hearth’s Warming colors of red, green and gold. “Very lovely home you have here.”

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry about the mess,” Scootaloo apologized again, somewhat anxiously sweeping the now wadded ball of fabric aside and out of the way as she offered a large, forced grin. “I know it’s not much, but only a couple of ponies know where I live, and…”

“I’m actually kinda surprised.” Spike rubbed down the fins on the back of his head with one claw. “I mean, I always wondered about what kind of place you had, since you almost never mention it. Like, at all.”

“Now, Spike, mind your manners. We are guests here, after all,” the Doctor scolded for a moment.

“Uh, I mean, nice place! Very... um... quaint.” The dragon smiled disarmingly and gave two thumbs up with his claws; a gesture that had always confused the Doctor as he wasn’t sure where he had picked it up, having being raised in a society without thumbs.

“Indeed, but we still need to fortify our position, regardless,” the Doctor added, looking over the windows before he flicked his less-encumbered hoof, causing a stick-like device with a softly glowing crystal tip to extend from the brown hoof-band he wore.

*click*
*whirrrr*

“What’s that?” Scootaloo asked, curious, as she finally had the chance to ask the question that had been plaguing her and her friends for months.

“Sonic screwdriver,” the Doctor answered quickly without further elaboration, which it sorely needed, judging by the foal’s expression.

“Think of it like a portable unicorn’s horn,” Spike explained as he moved up to the stallion’s side. “He uses it to fix stuff, mostly.”

“Wow. I didn’t know they had things like that in Trottingham,” Scootaloo sounded impressed, having always wondered what it would be like to be a unicorn; to be capable of magic. Armed with this new information, she also found herself wondering if just anypony could use one of these “sonic screw-whatsits.”

“They don’t. It’s one of a kind here in Equestria, I think. Weeeell, I shouldn’t say that. More like two of a kind, technically, but my old one isn’t nearly as convenient to use. Also, are there any other windows or openings in the house?” the Doctor asked quickly.

“There’s a window in my room, back there… and one in the kitchen, and another over there past the fireplace,” Scootaloo answered. “And I think there are a couple of small holes in the attic under the thatching, but those are way too tiny for me to fit through, much less an adult pony.”

“Alright… Spike, if you would, kindly take Sputteralong up to the attic and see if you can block those holes. I’ll take care of these windows.”

“Wait a minute, I just said they were too small to… ‘Sputteralong’!?” the filly voiced her indignant objection to the misnomer, for once actually bristling at one of the Doctor’s incorrect designations. “My wings might be small but they don’t ‘sputter!’ And my name is Scootaloo! Scoot-a-loo!”

“Come on, Scoot. Leave it alone; it’s not gonna do any good.” Spike shook his head, moving past the filly and getting a grip on her short purple tail to tug her along. Something she resisted for a moment before she realized that Spike was right, and the Doctor didn’t appear to be paying her any mind at all.

————————

“What is the matter with that pony?”

Spike chuckled at the pegasus’s disgruntled state as they climbed the small stairway that led to the cramped loft-like storage space between the ceiling of the home and the thatched roof. It would have been cramped for an adult pony, but the foal and baby dragon were easily able to move around in the dim interior below the packed, treated straw.

“Oh, on the topic of what’s wrong with him? I could go on for hours,” Spike admitted, shaking his head. “But right now, we kinda have bigger issues to deal with, and he’s not wrong about needing to block off any holes up here. These things took us by surprise before.”

“What things?” Scootaloo asked, suddenly reminded of the fact that she still had no idea what was happening around town. “What is going on?”

“Well, I guess I can tell you what I know.” The dragon shrugged with a sigh, pulling himself up on top of a chest and allowing himself a moment to rest. “Though I’ll admit it isn’t much.”

Scootaloo planted her flank on the cold wooden floor. “I’m listening.”

“Okay, so it all started about two days ago...” Spike began, foregoing drama in favor of simply telling it how he understood it. “Twilight left town to visit her family in Canterlot and I got the honored privilege of missing out on her mom’s rum-pineapple upside-down cake in order to keep an eye on the Doc.” The dragon child sighed again. “Of course, she offered to bring him along, but the Doc turned her down pretty much right away. Something about 'not taking chances with another Jackie Tyler,’ whatever that means.”

“Wait… you mean Twilight’s parents haven’t met the stallion that’s living with her?” Scootaloo’s tone indicated a bit of curiosity at what even a filly of her age recognized as something scandalous.

“I’m not allowed to talk about it,” Spike popped that line of thought quickly, getting back on topic. “Anyways, almost as soon as she was off and away on the train, the Doc started acting all funny, like he was taking notice of something. He does that sometimes; gets to talking and pointing things out that don’t really make much sense. About how some ponies were acting and the way that it didn’t sit well considering the holidays and how they were usually like. I thought he was just bored at first. You know, looking for trouble…”

“He goes looking for trouble?”

“I calls ‘em as I sees 'em,” Spike shrugged. “It all seemed harmless enough at first. Sure, some ponies weren’t at their most cheery, given the season, but I thought he was just overreacting. Sometimes ponies just have bad days, you know? But I promised to watch after him and make sure he stayed out of trouble. Then yesterday, he built that weird metal thingy, and ever since then he’s been wearing it and following it around town. I thought he was just being silly… but then...”

Spike looked around nervously, leaning forwards.

“Then…?” Scootaloo pressed eagerly.

“Then… some ponies started acting worse than cranky.” Spike ran his claws down his fins again. “Not just cranky; some of them were actually being downright mean. And that device the Doc was using? It was leading us right to them. We got thrown out of Mrs. Reams’s bookshop when she accused us of ‘window shopping,’ and then he had to break up a fight between Aloe and Lotus. I mean, those two looked like they were about to stomp each other into the ground!”

“Yeah, I saw you guys getting thrown out of the spa yesterday before I ran into…” Scootaloo trailed off, shivering a bit. “Uh, never mind. So, what happened after that?”

“Well, that’s when things got really weird,” Spike told her, hopping up off his seat and brushing up a handful of dried straw, looking for gaps in the thatching. “It was getting dark and he was talking on and on about a lot of stuff I didn’t understand. He does that a lot, even more than Twilight. And almost as soon as the sun went down, that machine of his started beeping and making all sorts of noise. And that’s when ‘they’ started coming after us.”

“When… what started coming after you?” Scootaloo leaned forward, clearly eager to find out.

Spike looked one way, then the other before waving the filly closer, using one claw to redirect his hushed tone as if somepony might overhear them.

“...Humbugs.”

Scootaloo’s expression fell, clearly unimpressed.

“What the hay is a humbug?”

“Well, they’re certainly not your everyday houseflies!” Spike sounded offended at her lack of excitement. “According to the reference books we found at the library, humbugs are these little magical ice-mosquitoes that are supposed to be native to the far northern mountains, up near the Griffin Roosts. Unlike regular mosquitoes that just drink your blood, these kind apparently suck up all the good stuff in a pony’s heart. Stuff like love, happiness, friendship... until just the bad stuff is left. Now, they’re not supposed to be too bad in small numbers, but there were hundreds of these guys, all swarming together. They chased us over half the town before we finally managed to get to the library. I spent most of the night trying to learn more about them while the Doctor fiddled with his device in the TAR--” Spike stopped suddenly, apparently having a bit of a coughing fit, much to Scootaloo’s puzzlement. “Uh, sorry. I meant the basement.”

Ignoring the pegasus’s confusion about his less than discrete misspeak, the dragon sighed, shrugging in defeat.

“Apparently he had a lot more luck than I did, and we still have no idea how to get rid of ‘em. And then this morning, almost at the crack of dawn, we got called out by a small herd that was demanding that Twilight get out of town.”

“Uhhh... Why would anypony--” Scootaloo sounded disbelieving, and was cut off as the dragon shrugged again, replacing a clawful of thatch.

“Your guess is as good as mine, but since it was mostly earth ponies, I would guess they’ve always been a little intimidated by her,” he continued, shaking his head. “We managed to talk our way past them, but when we went to City Hall, the Mayor was about as helpful as a jug of water on a sinking boat. Apparently, ‘Administrative Tanning’ took precedence over petty little problems like an angry mob trying to run a mare out of town.”

“Oh, yeah... What on Equis is Administrative--”

“Sunbathing.” Spike shook his head, clearly having lost some of his faith in local government.

“Really? Wait, you mean she canceled all the Hearth’s Warming events and has all of those Weather Pegasi keeping a hole in the clouds because she wanted to get a tan? In the middle of WINTER?”

“Yeah, that’s the pattern we kept seeing. The Doc was using a bunch of big words I didn’t catch, but as I understand it, the humbugs are making ponies act different. Some ponies get mean, others stop caring about anything other than what they want, and some go looking for any excuse to herd together and focus their bad vibes on one target; you know, a scapegoat for why they're feeling so rotten."

"Like how all the other foals from school were mad at me!" Scootaloo stated with some realization. "They were blaming me for the Mayor canceling all the Hearth's Warming events!"

"Yeah, like that. Anyways, we were using that gadget of his to try and track down the source and figure out where the bugs were coming from, but the only thing it led us to was… well, you.”

“Me?” Scootaloo sounded surprised, bringing a hoof to her chest.

“Yep. That’s when we found you in the alley. Not sure why that thing pointed us right to you, but so far you’re the only pony we’ve met today that hasn’t been affected.”

“But… why wouldn’t I be affected?” Scootaloo wondered.

“Dunno. I figured I’m safe from the bugs because, you know… Dragon.” He tapped the green underbelly scales of his chest with a claw, causing a clicking echo in the small loft. “I’m naturally protected. And the Doctor… well, he’s…”

Scootaloo leaned forward as the small dragon spoke, now on a roll and showing no sign of slowing or deviating as he continued to divulge what could be a major revelation.

“Spike!” The brown stallion’s head popped up from the stairway. “You got those holes fixed up yet?”

“AHH!” Scootaloo jumped, although more in frustration than out of being startled as the dragon’s tale was thrown off course.

“I just about got it,” Spike told the Doctor, returning to the task as he swept up another clawful of thatching and repaired another small gap.

“There’s a good dragon. Now, Miss Supperbell--”

The pegasus filly glowered. “SCOOT-A-LOO!

“...Would you kindly come downstairs? If we’re going to figure out what is happening, I think we need to start with why you seem to be the only pony in town who isn’t suffering from possibly fatal levels of emotional energy drain.”

“Okay, fine... I’m coming, just let me…” Scootaloo started, shaking her head as she grimaced at the continuing massacring of her name before her eyes shot open wide and her wings flared out involuntarily, as one word hit her with all of the weight of a buffalo stampede.

What did he just say?

————————

“FATAL!?” the three fillies gasped as they pulled up and forward together in shock, the simple gravity of that one word taking this from being a simple, silly story to something with far graver consequences.

Luna nodded grimly.

“As they say, my little ponies...” the Princess of the Night related in a heavy tone. “This... is where the story gets quite real.”