Re:Harmony

by starcross7

23 - Hatching a Plan

Chapter 23 - Hatching a Plan

"This is the fifth time you are giving us the runaround!" cried Mr. Carrot Cake as he slammed his hooves on the counter. "We did the genetic tests and did the paperwork, and now you say having ten percent of pegasus DNA bars us from adopting?"

"No, it's not that," said a slightly frightened yet altogether indifferent clerk behind thick, bulletproof glass. "Surely we all have ancestors who intermarried with pegasii before and during the Great Pony War, but like I said, those with significant pegasii DNA will have their application be put up for a follow-up review."

"There are hundreds of children still orphaned from the Appleloosa bombing!"

"Like I said, they have to be put under psychiatric observation to make sure they haven't been brainwashed by Pegasopolis to become sleeper spies."

"What is with you government types? Don't you know that you're bucking with all the ponies here in this building?"

"Honey," pleaded Mrs. Cup Cake. "Watch your language."

"Sir, if you wish to make a complaint," said the clerk, "you can fill out the complaint form and drop it in the Suggestions and Complaints Box over by the entrance."

"I already did that sixteen times!" cried Mr. Cake.

"Then your submissions are greatly appreciated, and we will take your complaints into serious consideration to improve our services. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"You could. How about if you allow us to obtain an adoption certificate that you constantly refuse to us."

"Like I said, your application will have to be put under additional review..."

"Forget it! I want to talk to your supervisor!"

"Dearie, it's okay," said Mrs. Cake.

"But honey-bun, what about--"

"It's not worth it if you stress out. Let's go home and open up shop."

Great. He was worrying his wife, and that was the last thing he wanted to do in this dreary place. The husband and wife left the counter for the next pony to receive or apply for services at the gargantuan Ponyville Government Services building where long lines, disgruntled ponies, and crying foals were the norm. Hard to believe, but it was only seven in the morning, and nothing was getting done.

So before he left, Mr. Cake filled out a complaint form, and made sure he snuck in some expletives without his wife looking. He remained angry, but that civil act allowed him to gain a little satisfaction in his non-verbal vent.

Past the always-sparse Cupcake Square bakeshop, the Cakes trotted down several long blocks to the station and boarded their tram down to Sewer Town. It might be that their residence in the underground city was the reason why they were given the runaround, but there was no better place to open up a small bakeshop on the cheap and away from the constant scrutiny of government food inspectors.

Their humble home and bakeshop was Sugarcube Corner, which, according to their loyal customers, looked almost like three white sugar cubes piled on top of each other. Already a line had formed outside their doors, but instead of disgruntled ponies, these were happier ones. Some had children bouncing in place in anticipation to receive one the best cupcakes, muffins, and other bakery delights their parents could afford. There were even ponies from the surface, namely the Elite Earth Party members hiding behind hoods or dark shades to purchase so-called “forbidden foodstuffs” without being seen by their peers.

So business in the small shop went as usual, and the Cakes put on their best smiles despite the usual setback of their attempts to adopt children. It wasn't that they couldn't conceive children. Their doctor told them that nothing was wrong with them physically. They tried year after year, after one pregnancy test after another, all results pointed to the negative. Often times, they looked upon their patrons coming in with their children with envy, even if half of them were troublesome brats. Sewer Town was not an ideal place to raise them, and yet pony life flourished in these depths.

"Dearie, it looks like we're going to have to get more eggs," said Mrs. Cake near the close of their business hours.

"Do we have enough for today at least?" Mr. Cake asked.

His wife nodded.

Mr. Cake loaded up his tattered saddlebags and left his wife to run the shop all by herself. He hated venturing out alone because he worried that Sugarcube Corner might be robbed or his wife might be assaulted while he was away. He made a mental reminder to budget for additional help and security for the shop, probably a young mare who could also act as a babysitter for his eventual children.

Even though business boomed for them, the prices of ingredients rose steadily over the years. On the market street he managed to snag ample amounts of sugar, flour, ginger, and yeast from his usual vendors, but he soon found out that he did not have enough to buy enough eggs.

Then, at the far end of the market, he spotted a less-than-busy stall selling strange eggs at discount prices. He confirmed with the oriental merchantpony that these were genuine eggs, and that he bought them from other traders who travelled far from Gaea. Still, the prices were too good pass up. An egg is an egg, right?

Mr. Cake bought a particularly large and spotted purple egg that looked large enough to make twenty or forty cakes. With that purchase, the merchantpony threw in a bonus of twenty-four cockatrice eggs. He wasn't sure why he was being so generous, but after about a block or so, Mr. Cake turned around to find out that the shop had suddenly closed up. The merchantpony and his wares were gone, and a quartet of police officers kept the crowds back as they ransacked the stall.

He didn't want to dwell too much on these things. This was Sewer Town, where the ponies seeking freedom, both scum and virtuous, took up residence, and that it was normal for a show of police force to suddenly appear in front of a random business every day. But Mr. Cake was more worried about his wife yelling at him for acquiring strange ingredients.

As it turned out, she asked no questions about the cockatrice eggs, and she had already cracked twelve of them in preparation for tomorrow’s business. Only the large purple egg did she give a suspicious look towards, and she asked her husband what it was.

“An ostrich egg,” he lied. He never seen one, and he hoped that Mrs. Cake had never seen one either. The wife shrugged and walked away. He knew from her raised eyebrow that she was not satisfied with his answer, if not outright lie, but this was nothing to get into a marital dispute over. The two silently resumed cleaning up the shop after its closure.

The big purple egg was too big to store in their industrial refrigerator with the other ingredients and prepared pastries. Nightlife in Sewer Town was cold anyway, and Mr. Cake had an ingenious idea to let it be air-cooled by setting it by the window not too far from the front counter.

In the next morning, the Cakes woke up to the tremors of a faraway earthquake. Such disasters had happened on a regular basis, but no matter how minor it was, everybody in Sewer Town took it seriously. Fearing being buried alive, both Mr. and Mrs. Cake hurried down half-dressed gathering what they could from beneath their mattress and headed towards the door. A flash of rainbow pierced the ceiling and shattered windows, forcing them to remain inside for one moment before evacuating. Then came the long silence. Carrot Cake feared aftershocks, and he wanted to pull his wife out before Sugarcube Corner collapsed on top of them.

The couple jumped at the sound of a loud crack, unmistakably that of an egg. A large egg to be exact. He thought he heard things amidst the cries from the streets of Sewer Town, but as clear as day he heard the coos of a baby.

There was no way. Both he and Cup Cake traversed broken glass and fallen chairs towards the counter and the open window. The spotted purple egg was no more. Instead of finding a mess of yolk splattered on the tiled floor, the Cakes found a purple reptilian creature with a face. The creature yawned from its incubated slumber, and after imprinting the faces of the pair of ponies before him, he began sucking his tail.

"Honey-bun, stand back," said Mr. Cake. "I'll get the broom."

"Dearie, it's just a baby."

"Of course it's a baby! A non-pony baby! That immigrant merchant cheated me! We have to call the police."

"We are not! Do you know what they'll do to him? They have labs where they experiment on non-pony creatures!”

"Honey-bun, you're not serious are you?"

Mrs. Cake, oblivious to her husband’s concern, immediately picked up the baby creature into her bosom.

"We should give him a name,” she said. “Didn't you say that if we had a boy that we'd name him Pound?"

"Spike. We'll call him Spike."

"You didn't take that long to think that through."

"Pound Cake doesn't sound strong enough. Spike will be his name."

"Spike, welcome to the family. I'm your mother, Cup Cake, and this is your father, Carrot Cake."

Mr. Cake hesitantly smiled. He did not want to raise any more objections because of the joy seen on his wife as she spun baby Spike across their shop. She had always wanted children, but she did not have to stoop to accept any non-pony baby as her own.

The days passed, and Sewer Town gradually recovered from its tremor. Business had slowed, but it was good for them because Mrs. Cake had pretty much doted on Spike throughout most of the days. That left Mr. Cake to run the daily business of Sugarcube Corner, and things were starting to get expensive.

He soon realized after he found Spike gobbling up his wife's jewelry and then throwing up green fire that his hatched son was a baby dragon. Though he did not need milk as his primary sustenance, he had to resort going to the Diamond Dogs' district to buy meat as well as gems. Those were not cheap, and bills were starting to piling up. Mr. Cake tried to mention to his wife that taking care of Spike was going to bankrupt their business, but she would not hear it. Even the mere suggestion of giving him away resulted in Mr. Cake being forced to sleep on the couch for one night.

Mr. Cake loved his wife. He loved her so much that he was willing to risk her anger, if not divorce in order to protect her from the burden of financial debt and the danger of raising a dragon. So in the dead of night, Mr. Cake wrapped Spike up in several blankets and placed him in a basket, which the pony father took across Sewer Town. He went past the town gates and navigated his way deep in the uninhabited sewers to find a dead-end where his wife would not find him, but others would. He left the basket containing his son, who cooed oblivious to his abandonment. Slowly backing away, Mr. Cake turned around, and his flashlight no longer shone on that thing.

His slow trot back was surprisingly quiet. His chest heaved in and out as he mentally prepared himself to face his wife's outburst of sadness. He could lie to her that Spike was kidnapped, but it was all the same. He, as a stallion, was responsible for protecting his family, but he countered such guilt by reminding himself that his son was not a pony and would never become one.

"Dada."

He must be hearing things, like bubbles boiling from the sewer waters, squeaky pipes, or a talking doll flushed down by an Elite Earth Party member's daughter.

"Dada."

It sounded clearer in his mind. There was no way Spike could be talking now, and why should he be sympathetic to that thing? It was a dragon. A living war machine. There was no way two pony parents could guarantee that their own son would not devour or immolate them.

"Dada."

Mr. Cake hurried his pace. He forced himself to fold his ears down and seal up his heart.

"Dada."

The little runt cause more trouble than what it was worth. His claws scratched the walls, the furniture, and Mr. Cake's coat. He ate all the jewelry. He consumed meat of all things.

"Dada."

He's a dragon. They shouldn't be living in Gaea.

"Dada."

He couldn't take it anymore. Mr. Cake galloped back to where he abandoned Spike, and swatted away all the rats that tried to gnaw at the basket. The little runt remained smiling, and reached out his little claws towards the lanky mustard-yellow stallion.

"Dada."

His first word. Mr. Cake collapsed on his knees and hugged his son tightly as he could.

---

Carrot Cake pulled Spike back into the storeroom and told him to wait. About a minute later, he came back with piles of toasted bread and jars of peanut butter and strawberry jam to make toast for his adopted son. The baby dragon accepted his food offering, and he started to get a little uncomfortable that his father was pushing more and more toast towards him. He already ate, but Spike couldn't just say no after finally reuniting with his father.

"When you were taken away, your mother just stopped living for herself," said Mr. Carrot Cake. "I spent a few years in prison for harboring a dragon, and when I got out, I found your mother in a horrid mental health hospital unable to take care of herself. I had to get her out, but she and I needed a job to reopen Sugarcube Corner. So I took a job here in Rock Prison, and convinced the prison to hire your mother as well, but I have to make sure she is well taken care of during her shift."

"Mom's here too?"

"She is. Oh, Spike, I really want to tell her that you're alive, but I'm not sure if she can take the shock of seeing you again. What happened since that time son? Can you tell me?”

Thus, Spike told him of the horrible experiments in the Labs, Dr. Octavia, the caves, the Palace of the Earth, and their escape from Gaeaopolis. He did not tell them all the details, such as Twilight's name and the fact she was a unicorn. He only referred to her and Sunny as Applejack's friends who had escaped capture from the Government.

While Mr. Cake was happy to see his son after so many years, the thought of sick experiments being done on a baby dragon angered him so much that he punched the wall so hard that it cracked under his hoof.

"Dad, are you okay?" Spike asked.

"I should've... I should've fought to save you son. I don't even deserve to be called your father. It's no different from me trying to abandon you."

"You tried to abandon me?"

"I came back for you, but it was all for naught. Several weeks later, Clone Soldiers had arrived to turn Sugarcube Corner inside out while they were looking for you. I tried to flee with you on my back, but I was caught in the end. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't abandon you, but I failed!"

"Dad, it's not your fault! Now we can be a family again."

"Spike, you know that your mom and I are ponies, and you're a dragon."

"It doesn't matter! You're my family, and it's all worth it for me to escape the labs. Do you think I can talk to mom?"

"She hasn't been herself since they took you away."

"I need to at least see her."

"All right. Wait underneath the manhole cover, and take this box of food with you. Don’t come out until you hear this knock."

Mr. Cake knocked, and Spike memorized it. He went back into through the cover with the box carried by his tail, and waited almost a half-hour watching the sewer waters wash by. During which, he noticed a green reptilian creature much smaller than himself swimming against the slow currents. The creature floated before the little dragon and stared at him with its pair of wall-eyed irises.

"Hiya," Spike greeted. "So, um, do you eat gems as well?"

The small green reptile blinked each of its eye separately as it kept up its poker face. It then turned to resume its swim against the stream, carrying on its back, Spike had noticed, a small round tube tied to its back.

Spike heard his father's patterned knock, which was the signal for him to climb up and crawl of the manhole. When he emerged, Mr. Cake stood before him, but at the doorway stood Mrs. Cake, whom Mr. Cake pulled down to the storeroom by hoof. Spike imagined his mother being blue and plump, but she appeared skinnier, and her coat paler. Her usual cream-like crimson mane had fell flat and gathered into a hairnet.

"Honey-bun, I would like to meet somepony," said Mr. Cake. "This is Spike, a baby dragon."

Mrs. Cake looked down upon a nervous purple reptile. While normal ponies would react in shock or awe, the blue pony didn't seem to register what she was seeing.

"Mom, it's me," said Spike.

"You poor colt," said Mrs. Cake. She smiled very weakly and the stroked her hoof across the scaly cheek of her son. "All your hair fell off."

"These are scales."

"Hoho, you're such a funny child. Do you want to hear a story?"

"Um, sure?"

"A long time ago, there was a mare who wished to have children, but could never have any. Then her husband found a big spotted purple egg, and out came the most beautiful and most adorable baby dragon she had ever beheld. He had the same mane and coat color as you, little colt. We named him Spike, so he could be the strongest dragon we have ever raised."

"I'm here mom. Don't you recognize me?"

"But the government took him… They took him… He's only a baby… Why do they need to--"

"Honey-bun," said Mr. Cake, "this little colt kind of made a mess in the kitchen."

"Oh, yes! We would not want the Warden to find out and fire us. Here's an apple, little one. It's not Sweet Apple Acres quality, but it should do. Help yourself to some more if you would like."

The little dragon received an armful from her mentally broken mother, who then proceeded to mop the kitchen while singing lullabies Spike thought he had long-forgotten. "Hush now, quiet now," was the words he recognized and the words that made him teary-eyed.

"She'll be fine," said Mr. Cake. "So you want to help the Rebel Applejack escape? If your mom were still sane, she would have immediately quit her job to take you away and out of the country. But as you say, you owe a debt to Rebel Applejack and her friends for saving you from those labs. As such, I too owe a debt to her if it's to rile up the Government for kidnapping and torturing you. There is one problem though: I am unable to serve food at the mares' wing, but your mom might be able to sneak a message to Applejack."

"Do you think it'll work?" asked Spike.

"I'm not sure, but this is the first time she have said more than a few sentences in a long time. I'll make sure it is done."

"Please do," said Spike as he handed a rolled-up slip of paper to his father.

"Son, I don't want you to do anything drastic without me knowing. This is Rock Prison, and if ponies disappear here, we might be next as well. Stay hidden in the sewers for a few days. I'll make time to visit you and give you food and supplies."

"Thank you, dad."

Spike hugged his adoptive father, but before he went back down through the manhole, he hesitated because he saw a glimpse of her downtrodden mother pushing the mop back and forth with her front hooves. Mrs. Cake's mind might be severely damaged, but her maternal heart remained. Spike ran back to the kitchen and hugged the blue mare.

"Oh my," said Mrs. Cake. "Dearie, what is this all about?"

"I just wanted to," wept Spike.

"Okay. I suppose I'll have to return the favor in kind."

She hugged him back, not knowing why, and then found herself embracing him longer than she expected. Mr. Cake nudged the two to separate as the other kitchen workers were heard from outside. Spike quickly ran back to the manhole and bade a quick goodbye to his parents before beginning his long wait in the prison sewer system. It was dark, but he had to be brave for the two lives who now depended on him. He almost wished he didn't have to involve his parents. At the very least, he rediscovered them, and he got a chance to see them.

Sometime afterwards, he spotted the same small and green reptilian creature swimming along the stream carrying a tube holder on its back.

Comments

[GMZ_Casper]

Poor Mrs. Cake, the poor girl is just so broken and miserable. Oooh, that government so need its butt handed to them! And, it seems Spike get to meet Gummy. Heh.

C&C:
he cried.
> ‘He cried.’

[Adixon524]

really subtle pinkie communications

[ShadowLaborer]

This is a good story and I'm enjoying it so far. My one nit pick is that there are grammar errors that make it hard to follow at times... but good show none the less

[raven618]

Go Gummy! Go Gummy!