> Wheel in the Sky > by LightningBass94 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The City that Never Sleeps > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I stepped off the old Ponyville train, and my senses were immediately assaulted. I hated this city. The loud honks of carriages, stuck in traffic outside, and the loud roar of the crowd buzzing around me like bees rang in my ears, and I could already feel a headache coming on. The further I stepped toward the door of the train station, the more frequently I was bumped into by the crowd, obviously too busy to look where they were going. I was just as tall as they were now, so not seeing me wasn't a valid excuse. Absentmindedly, I held my hands in the pockets of my brown long-coat to protect my wallet from potential pickpockets. I hesitated before leaving the station. I hadn't opened the door yet, but I could already smell the smog of the big city. It was a dark, cloudy day, and the cold gloom looming over the city matched my attitude toward it. We apparently had a mutual understanding, this city and I. The fact that Rarity lived here, of all places, left a rotten taste in my mouth. Steeling myself, I walked out into the city and took a right down the sidewalk. Walking would be quicker than trying to find a taxi, much less waiting for said taxi to even get through the perpetual traffic jam that was Manehattan. The wind blew, nearly knocking off my brown fedora. I promptly placed a claw over the hat to keep it in place. The matching fedora and longcoat were the last thing Rarity sent me, and they were very close to my heart. I would be devastated if this city took either one away from me after all that it had already done. Walking down the street, I found myself thinking on the events leading up to this. The last three years had been hell. Rarity had been the first to leave. It was a shock to us all, but deep down, we always knew she'd move on to bigger and better things. She had found a sponsor for her work in Manehattan and left with the promises to write and visit often. Those were the empty promises of a mare I wasn't even sure existed anymore. Soon after that, Rainbow Dash finished up at the academy and became a full-fledged Wonderbolt. She was constantly traveling with her team, all over Equestria. She didn't have time to visit, but she did write often. Without Rainbow Dash around, Fluttershy became even more of a recluse. She rarely left her house and now preferred gardening and foraging over shopping at the market. Eventually, she altogether shut down her pet shop and veterinary businesses and opted to live off her land completely. Apple Bloom had been growing up, and as such, began working in the orchard. She took over Appplejack's job completely when she left to set up her own orchard in the Applelacian mountains. With quite a few friends missing, and even a family member moving on, Pinkie Pie was having a hard time keeping that smile on her face all the time. In fact, ever since she stopped throwing parties, ponies have been going missing, almost systematically. I gave a shiver at that thought and the train it was riding. There was no way Pinkie was responsible. Twilight had been sent away by the princesses to rule her own little piece of Equestria. That would have been fun, and all, but I was left in Ponyville...as its new librarian. I took my duties seriously, but it had gotten old, fast. Slowly, I suppose, I'd grown bitter, and cold. That was why I found myself walking through a dirty, "modern" city looking for a classy, clean building that shown like a bright light in a dark cave in contrast. I was searching for Rarity's new boutique. She had described it to me in one of her few letters, and I had memorized the address from the envelopes. Celestia knows, I needed a good pick-me-up! As I continued walking I was thinking about how Rarity might be doing. Was she well? How was her business? Had she found a special somepony? That last question stung. It stung HARD. I had a hard time coming to terms with Rarity leaving. It took me a long time to accept the fact that she had to move on with her life, and that came with the acceptance of Rarity being her own pony, with her own needs. I never had a chance with her, and my childish crush on her was just that: a crush. After wrestling with these thoughts and memories, I realized I had passed the boutique some time ago. "Crap!" I exclaimed. I turned and began running back the way from which I came, finally arriving at the boutique. It was certainly posh. The building's bright and frilly theme really was a nice change of scenery from the dark and depressing grey and brown hues of the buildings around it. It was a testament of Rarity's Ponyville roots and Canterlot attitude. For the first time all day, I found myself smile a little as I reached for the door and pushed it open. I was greeted with the sweet, familiar smell of Rarity's perfume and a ball of fur in my mouth, along with a couple of bruised ribs. I had been caught in a crushing hug. Rarity had obviously seen me through the glass door. I had been too caught up in my thoughts to notice her rushing at me. With a widening smile, I returned the hug. "Hey there beautiful," I flirted jokingly, "Long time, no see." "Oh Spikey-Wikey!" She exclaimed, "It's so good to see you again!" She released me and stepped back a bit. "And look how you've grown! You're as tall as me now!" Dragons, like myself, grow and grow up with the collection of items. The more we own, the older we get. With the aquisition of the library and all I'd bought with the profits in the past year, I'd grown rapidly to an age I guessed to be around nineteen in pony years. I just responded with a snarky, "Yeah, I do that." A customer behind Rarity loudly cleared her throat, quickly growing impatient. "Right!" Rarity turned and ran back to her customer. She had been fitting her for a dress before my distraction. She continued her work with a small apology. The customer gave a pompous "Humph!" in reply, nose up in the air. Whilst working, Rarity continued talking to me. "So Spike," She started, "What brings you to Manehattan, Darling?" "I came to see you," I responded, deadpan, "We haven't spoken in three years, remember?" Rarity laughed nervously with a sheepish grin, not looking away from her customer, "R-right, of course." She laid her tired eyes upon me once more, something hidden behind them. "Listen Spike...I'm a bit busy with work right now. Why don't you come to dinner later tonight?" I agreed and she gave me her address along with a time. Just like that, I was out on Manehattan's dirty streets again. I let out a tired sigh. "I hate this city," Hands shoved in my pockets, I walked down the cold, inhospitable street, unsure of where I would end up. > Sleet and Rain > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The rain outside created a gentle pitter-patter against the window as I stared out it. As I looked, I didn't really see. I was too busy thinking about what I'd seen. It hadn't hit me until I left, but something was off about Rarity. She had kept her mane over her face, nearly covering one eye completely, and those eyes! Those tired eyes were not those of the friend I had seen off all those years ago. They were the eyes of a broken mare. Just what had happened to make those bright, sapphire eyes turn a dull grey? "More coffee, Sir?" The waitress spoke up, breaking me free from the prison my thoughts had placed me in. A pitcher of black coffee was held in a green aura near her head. I nodded and slid my cup closer to her. As she filled the cup, she slid into the booth across from my own. "Is there something wrong, Mister? Ya' seem sad." She seemed genuinely concerned, so I supposed I should respond. I sighed and took a sip of my bitter, black coffee before responding with a question, "What would you do if you had a friend...and you hadn't seen them for a long time?" The waitress seemed confused. Her name tag read "Bonnie Brass." "Well, I suppose I'd go see 'em. Is that why you're here?" I nodded, ignoring that her accent made it apparently hard to pronounce her R's. "And what if that friend didn't seem like she was the same person? Like, they pretended to be, but they were a really bad actor?" I asked. Why was I even talking to this mare? She was just going to point out the obvious. "I'd ask her 'bout it," There it was. The obvious. "Easier said than done," I protested with a scoff. "How am I supposed to ask her that without hurting her feelings somehow?" Bonnie just shrugged with a little smile. "She's your friend, Mister. I don't know the gal. I'm sho' you'll figure it out." She stood up and picked up the coffee pot. She topped off my drink with a warm smile. "Gotta' get back to work. Put a smile on once in a while, will ya'?" Without waiting for an answer, she left. I just rolled my eyes and stared back into the gloom. It was getting late. I finished up my coffee and left the bill and a large tip on the table. Putting my coat and hat on as I walked, I pushed open the door and walked out of the building. By the time I made it to Rarity's apartment building, I was soaked and freezing. The rain had turned to sleet and it had come down hard upon all with the misfortune to be caught within its wintry grasp. Even the thick, ring-spun cotton canvas material of my coat was soaked through to the silk lining. As I stepped through the door, graciously held open by a posh door-stallion, I took off my fedora and wrung it out. "Good day, Sir," The stallion greeted. I merely grumbled in response and stomped toward the elevator. Once inside the small space, I pressed the button labeled "6" and allowed myself to calm down. It wasn't all bad. I was going to see Rarity, after all. Dinner would be fun, and it would be like old times. I decided to drop that foreboding feeling from before, ignore how much I hated this weather or this city and, most of all, ignore how angry I secretly was at Rarity for her apparent and complete lack of interest in me or anypony else from her Ponyville days. Hay, she didn't even write her own sister! Sweetie Belle moved to Canterlot a year ago to pursue her singing career, and we kept in touch. DING! Here I was, floor six. Right across from the elevators was Rarity's apartment, "6D." I inhaled deeply and let it out in a slow, deliberately audible breath, steeled myself, and knocked on the door. "Here we go," I thought. Slowly, the nob turned and the door opened. Nopony was there. "Come on in!" I heard Rarity call from the kitchen, I presumed. She had opened the door with magic. "I'm still cooking, so please close the door behind you!" I walked into the large apartment. The initial walkway was unfurnished, but as I walked into the main living space, I realized that this was far different than any place Rarity had ever lived in before. The decor was very modern, colors mostly consisting of blacks and whites with splashes of red in seemingly random places, including the throw pillows. The couch seemed untouched and uncomfortable and was placed across from a large television set hanging from the wall that I assumed was also largely unused, though free from any dust. Between them sat a long, low coffee table with black metal legs and a glass top. Opal was nowhere to be seen, though there was a very nice looking black and white portrait of her hanging on one of the walls. The cat most likely died of old age. She was getting fairly old, even before Rarity left. What did seem strange to me was that Rarity hadn't acquired a new pet. She typically kept one as a sort of confidant in times of extreme duress. Maybe Opal had lived longer than I expected? On either side of the couch was an end table, matching the style of the coffee table in every way. Atop them both rested a twin set of black, metal lamps, both twisting up in a vase-like shape toward flat-white shades. Across from him, on the other side of the room, was another small hallway which, no doubt, held the bedroom and a restroom. It was carpeted in spotless white just as the living room was. There were pictures hung on the walls, but I couldn't see what they were of from my vantage point. To my right was a large, arching doorway. A gentle light shone through it, and I inferred that this was where I would find Rarity. I walked though and found a much more welcoming sight. To my right was the dining room. It looked much more conventional. It had a wooden floor and a grand, wooden dining table, all finished with a dark, mahogany coating and polished to shine. An antique chandelier hung from the center of the low ceiling, adorning the room in a soft, orange glow. Along one of the walls was a glass-front cabinet filled with fine china. Farther to the left, there was a sudden change from wooden floors to black and white tile which, along with a small bar, marked the beginning of the kitchen. That was where I found Rarity. She had a knife in her azure magical grip and she stood at the island, dicing vegetables. I took my hat and coat off, draped them across the back of a bar stool, and sat down at the bar, facing into the kitchen. Rarity didn't even look up at me. Her kitchen seemed to more properly match the rest of the house. All the cabinets were modern and white. The sink, dishwasher, and oven were chrome, and the counters, including the bar, were made with solid black marble. Above the bar was another cabinet and several wine glasses hung from its bottom. "So," I started, attempting to spark a conversation. "What are we having tonight?" It took her a second to answer, but when she did, she still didn't look up at me. Her mane was in an almost Fluttershy-esque style, half of it covering her face. Sadly, that half was toward me, so I couldn't see past her violet mane at all. "Stir-fry with snow-peas and shiitake mushrooms, spring rolls on the side." She answered simply. In an attempt to cheer her up, I smiled and commented, "Well that sounds really good. It smells delicious so far too!" I looked at the amount she'd made so far, and there was quite a bit there. "You don't need to make that much for me, Rarity," I protested, slightly concerned. "I don't think we'll be able to eat so much, just the two of us." The knife faltered in her aura slightly and she turned her head toward me just slightly. I could see her exposed eye now, and there was fear in it. She spoke in a quiet, even tone. "I have another guest coming, Spike." > Made of Silver > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The door opened and slammed shut, startling me out of my confusion. "Rarity! Is dinner ready yet?!" The deep, smooth voice was obviously male. There was just a hint of irritation in the owner's tone, but it made Rarity jump with an audible "Eep!" and feverishly continue to dice vegetables. The owner of the voice rounded the corner through the doorway, not yet seeing me. "Hey! Answer me when I'm-" He stopped dead in his tracks as he completed the turn, noticing me for the first time, "Talking...to...you..." He turned to Rarity and pointed an accusing hoof at me. "Who the buck is this?!" he snapped. Rarity took a break from dicing and set the knife down, daring to take a glance at the stallion. Much like most of the house, he was black and white. He had a sparkling, white coat with black hooves and a large, black spot over one of his eyes. His mane was short, black and wavy. It was carefully styled. His cutie mark was that of a large, golden star much like the starts at Ponywood Boulevard. I knew immediately who her was. This was Super Star. He was in more movies than any other pony and was the most famous of all Manehattan's residents. Much like Fancy Pants in Canterlot, everypony in Manehattan hung on his every word. No business was successful or otherwise without his two bits. What was he doing here, though? "T-This is Spike. H-He's a friend...from Ponyville..." Rarity spoke quietly, barely audible. Super Star raised an irritated brow. "Ponyville, huh?" He turned to me, a glare painted across his face. He had a sort of holier-than-thou attitude about him. "Excuse me, but could I speak to my marefriend...alone?" Wow. That hit me like a brick wall. I should have guessed it, but somewhere deep in my subconscious, I suppose I still felt for Rarity. I didn't want to believe it. That aside, Super Star seemed increasingly angry. I glared back at him suspiciously, then looked away. "Rarity, where is your restroom?" I asked. I already knew the approximate answer, but as a guest, it seemed rude to snoop around. "Down the hall, first door on your right," She responded. She didn't break her tentative gaze on the stallion before her. "Thank you," I hopped off the stool and left the room at a brisk pace, bumping into Super Star on my way out. I walked down the hall toward my destination. When I got there, I burst in and closed the door behind me. I could already hear a muffled argument exploding through the walls. What had just happened? What had I just caused? I was starting to wish I'd never made this trip in the first place. A lone tear made its way down the right side of my cheek. It hit the floor with a soft plop! My back against the door, I slid down to the ground and brought my knees against my chest. I wanted to cry more, but no more came. I sat there and listened to the argument unfold. I couldn't hear the words being spoken, but I understood their tones well. Super Star's voice was uproarious, almost loud enough for me to understand what he was saying. As he got angrier and louder, Rarity's voice did the opposite. She spoke exponentially mousily and pleadingly each time she opened her mouth. The point at which I could barely hear her at all, I stood up. I had always been the voice of reason before, and Rarity needed my help. I opened the door and stepped out into the hall determinedly. Across from me, I could finally see one of the pictures. It was the one of all of us back in Ponyville. The picture seemed so ancient and foreign to me, as if it were an artifact salvaged from an archeological dig. I sighed and looked away from it before it brought back any more painful memories. I took a deep breath and began to make my way back to the kitchen. As I got closer to them, I began to hear what they were saying. "...got you this apartment, I did not allow you to invite small-town, ho-bunk riff-raff here!" For the first time since the beginning of the argument, Rarity raised her voice, "Do not talk about Spike or any of them like that!!" I turned the corner to see a hoof connect with her muzzle with a loud CLOP! I stopped dead in my tracks. My initial expression of shock twisted into one of pure rage as Rarity's frail form plummeted to the ground. Her mane flailing wildly, I could finally see the eye she had been hiding from me, black and purple with a large, fresh bruise. I snapped. "RRRUUUUAAAAGHHH!!!" I lumbered toward my target, blinded by rage. On my way, I grabbed the wok off the counter and shot super-heated dragon flames into it. He spun around quickly, surprised. My arm came back and lashed forward. There was a sizzle and a pop as the bottom of the wok made contact with his face, singing hair and searing flesh. He tumbled to his side on the floor and I stomped on his rib cage, causing his to shout out in pain and gasp loudly with pain. His face was already beginning to blister from the heat of the wok. I picked him up by the scruff of his neck, strengthened by my fury. "Get the BUCK out of here, you sorry piece of shit!" I screamed in his face and tossed him toward the doorway. He didn't go but a hoof or two before falling to the floor on his burnt face. He stood up painfully and turned to us. "You're going to regret this, you bitch!" He pointed at Rarity. I growled angrily, motivating him to turn around quickly exit the building. After a couple minutes, I calmed down enough to turn and look at Rarity. She had stood up and was facing me, eyes glued to the floor. Her mane covered most of her bruised face. I put a hand on her shoulder. "Rarity, a-" SLAP! My ears rang as a hoof made hard contact with my scaled cheek. "Get out," Rarity whispered coldly, her tears hitting the floor beneath her. She never even looked at me. "B-but-" "I SAID GET OUT!" She roared, looking up at me with eyes full of hurt and broken trust. What had I done? Hurt, I turned away from her and grabbed my belongings. On my way out the door, I looked back at her. She had sat on her haunches and was quietly sobbing in the same spot she had been. "I don't know where I'll be tomorrow..." I told her. She didn't respond, and I left. > Not of Clay > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I sighed loudly to myself. If my mind wasn't already buzzing with the memories of my previous altercation with Super Star, the sirens blaring outside the window of that cheap motel surely would have. Buck this city; everything it is, everything it's done. What did I do to deserve this? What did Rarity do to deserve this? The stallion and mare in the next room were getting louder and rougher in their sex and I pounded on the wall. "Shut up!" I growled loudly in protest. It did little to silence them, in fact it seemed to act as encouragement. They were lucky I was raised better, else I would break into their room and roast them alive. I was in that kind of mood. I groaned loudly and got up from the dirty bed the motel had provided. I walked to the window and peered outside. The rain had stopped. Maybe it was time for a walk to clear my head. I quickly grabbed my hat, coat, and the keys to the room and exited the room. The chill of the night hit me like a brick wall. I hadn't quite expected that, but I pressed on. I needed a drink. What I didn't need was another problem from this city. There had to be something about it that just brought the worst out in ponies. Why was Rarity with that abusive jerk anyway? What did she see in him that she had never seen in me? I felt tears well up in my eyes as I brought up ancient memories again, but I bit them back. I wished desperately, at this point, for more rain to conceal them so that I could let them free. I felt a metallic tapping on my shoulder and spun around. I had already cleared several city blocks since leaving the motel, and I'd passed plenty of alleys on the way. Apparently I'd been followed by one. The unicorn before me had greasy, lime green fur that was matted in places with an unknown substance. His long, orange mane was slicked back. Even from several hooves distance, I could see the dandruff and lice which plagued it. He was grinning at me madly. His eyes looked bloodshot and distant. His teeth were a dark yellow, and his breath smelled of alcohol and tooth decay. In a sickly orange aura, he held a large bowie knife. That had been what he'd used to tap me with. I growled and gave him a glare that quickly changed his crazed expression to that of shock. It would have likely put Fluttershy's stare to shame. "Listen, dirt bag!" I shouted, taking a step closer to the stallion. "I am a fire. Breathing. Dragon!" I took another step forward. "You can't cut through my scales with a knife like that, I'm in a piss poor mood right now, and I will not hesitate to roast you alive!" Wow. I was making that threat a lot lately, internally and externally. I really needed to calm down. With one more step toward him, I had pushed my bare chest into his knife. He kept it steadily in place, so the tip actually bent with the pressure. I needn't say more. The mugger dropped his knife and ran back to whatever rat hole he had crawled out of. "Get a job!" I shouted out to him, before turning around and continuing my walk. I was already missing my boring home in Ponyville, but right now Rarity needed me here more than ever. It didn't take me long to find a bar. It didn't take long to get kicked out either. At least I felt better. There was nothing like beating four or five stallions in a bar fight to release some aggression. What was I becoming, these days? When I looked into that photograph in Rarity's house, I had been mesmerized by my own eyes as they stared back at me. They were so happy, so full of life. They were a far cry from the soulless eyes that stared back at me in the mirror every morning. I barely recognized myself anymore. Everypony else moved on, continued living. Even Pinkie had learned to deal with the change and devoted her time to Sugarcube Corner since she bought the place from the Cakes. I was the only one stuck in Ponyville, stuck in the past. Nothing for me had changed. The world just changed around me. I was powerless to stop it, and it dragged me along at an ungodly pace. I suppose it broke me at some point, and I just trudged on along side it unemotionally. Celestia, what I would do to put things back the way they were. It was probably time to head back to the motel. Purchased bottle of whiskey still in hand, I drunkenly stumbled the mile or so back to the run down building. In my stupor, I no longer cared about the city. I no longer cared about its crazed and homeless night life watching me as I passed. At that moment, I was a part of it all. At some point, I had begun crying and I let the tears run freely. I could barely see where I was going. After what seemed like hours, the motel came into view. I let out a bittersweet chuckle at the small success. In the parking lot, I pulled out the keys. Key? I could have sworn I was given two. I must have dropped one. Or not. It could just have been a drunken slip. Yes. I was sure I only got one. I clumsily tried to take a swig from the bottle as I walked. I tripped over my own feet and would have fallen to the ground if the door hadn't caught my fall. My face slammed into it hard. I groaned in displeasure. After the fight, I was sore, and that hurt much worse than it likely should have. After a few attempts, I shoved the key into the knob and turned. I pushed the acursed barrier open and closed it behind me. The moment the door closed, I was shrouded in darkness. I set the bottle on a dresser and stumbled to the bed. The only light source was the window directly above said bed, and it revealed to me the strangest of sights. There, upon my bed, was a mare. She shuddered in her sleep with silent sobs. Her normally pristine, white fur was ruffled from earlier events. Her messy, purple mane hung loosely over her swollen face, and the fur below her eyes was soaked with tears. Rarity? Didn't she kick me out of her apartment? What was the meaning of this? How did she find me? Why did she find me? The sight was sobering, to say the least, and with my new-found clarity, I decided those questions could wait until morning. I shook my head and climbed onto the bed. I sat down and leaned my back against the wall. I pulled her head onto my lap, and she whimpered. I fell to sleep with her there, running my claw through her mane. > For Tomorrow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The paper fell to my face with an audible slapping sound. I snorted loudly as I woke. My head was killing me, and my body ached all over. Maybe I overdid it a bit last night. I groaned and sat up, allowing the newspaper to fall to my lap. At the very top of the paper in bold letters, it read The Daily Pony. Under that, there was a picture of Super Star's freshly scorched face and a headline, "Rarity Belle is Crazy!" I raised an eyebrow at the paper, fully aware of the glare I was receiving from the mare beside me. I ignored her and read the first few lines of the article. "Rarity Belle is crazy!" Says local celebrity, Super Star, "She invited me to dinner and assaulted me with a pan!" When asked why, Star only had this to say, "Honestly, I couldn't tell ya'. All I know, is she's absolutely mental! She even had the nerve to hurt herself and try to blame me!" When prompted for more information, Star went on to say- I stopped reading and threw the paper across the room. "That's horseapples!" I protested. "That abusive douche knows damn well it didn't go down like that!" I turned to Rarity. She was still scowling at me as if I had just punched her sister. "This is all your fault, you know that!" She growled. "My career is ruined! Do you realize how important Super Star is? That's why I was stuck with him!" She stomped her hoof, standing a step closer to me with it. Stuck with him? Had he been different before? Had she tried to get out of the relationship before? What did he have to gain by being with her? Why had he been blackmailing her? She seemed to have showered while I was sleeping and snuck out to retrieve the paper. Her mane and fur were properly groomed, the same way I remembered them being from so long ago. Her large bruise was already yellow, and the swelling had gone down. It seemed to be healing nicely. I was glad. I looked on at her with genuine concern for a split second before returning her scowl with one of my own, finally hearing the venom in her words, directed at me. How was any of this my fault? "You're welcome!" I shouted sarcastically. "That stallion would have killed you, eventually, Rarity! What the buck! Is your career really that important to you? What were you thinking being with a guy like that!?" My voice had escalated into a roar as the events of last night ran through my head. Rarity took a step back, seemingly scared of my anger. That made me angrier. It didn't matter how much she'd been through, she should have known damn well that I would never hurt her. "He wouldn't have killed me! Stop being so melodramatic!" She protested. Her voice remained strong, despite her body language. "That was nothing! It was just a little fight!" "A little fight!?" I roared incredulously, "Are you serious? Is this how you've been living your life?" My palm connected to the front of my face with a slap and I ran it down the scaly surface until it landed back in my lap. I groaned, frustrated with the entire situation. "You kicked me out, too! You're the bucking element of generosity! This is so unlike you!" A light bulb flickered on in my head. How was this argument even taking place? "Why are you here, anyway?! Why kick me out, just to track me down and yell at me the next morning?! How did you find me, even?" Rarity gave me a sheepish smile. "I went to the bar, and I found you there. I found the keys on the bar, and they had an address on them..." Why was she so quiet suddenly? No, I didn't care. Not only had she kicked me out, she'd stolen from me. "Why?" I growled, barely a whisper, I stood up off the bed. "I-I-" Tears began streaming from her eyes and she collapsed onto the floor. Her body heaved with silent sobs. "I missed you..." She whispered. She had buried her face in her hooves, and it was barely audible through them. I scoffed. What a poor excuse. "Really? You refuse to write me back for three years, kick me out when I visit and save you, and you wake me up to blame me for all your problems the next day. You expect me to believe, after all that, that you miss me? That may have worked when I was younger, but not anymore! I'm not disposable! You can't just use me when you need me, then toss me away like I was nothing and expect me to crawl back to you! You never cared about me! I loved you, and you treated me like shit!" I paused and took a couple deep breaths. When I spoke the next words, I was eerily calm. "Get out of here, Rarity. Don't come back." She looked up at me, hurt apparent in her eyes. "Spike, I-" "Get. The buck. out!" I shouted, pointing a claw at the door. She slowly stood on shaky legs and walked to the exit. She opened the door, took one step out into the cool, Manehattan morning, and looked back at me. Her eyes held a deep poignancy that made them painful to look at. She shuddered as she took a breath, holding back tears. "Goodbye, Spikey." I rolled my eyes in response, arms crossed across my chest, and she was gone. Out of my room. Out of my life. After several seconds, staring at the door, I sat in the small chair the room provided and turned on the TV. The news came on, and there was Super Star. "Ruuaagh!" I growled. I turned the TV off and threw the remote across the room. It hit the wall and landed near the newspaper I had thrown earlier that morning. I stared at it with a mixture of anger and longing, just as I would look at Rarity if she were to walk back through the door at that moment. That would never come true. Rarity was gone. She would do exactly as I said and never come back, no matter how bad I wanted her to. "What...what have I done?" I asked myself, a tear falling to my lap from my cheek. I repeated in a whisper, "What have I done?" > A Letter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I snorted as I woke abruptly. A string of drool had escaped my lips, and I lazily wiped it away with the back of my hand. At some point, I must have cried myself to sleep. I gently rubbed the crust from my puffy, sore eyes. Sighing, I leaned back in the chair and stared up at the plain, yellowing ceiling. It was devoid of Spackle, and the cheap paint had begun to peel off the waterlogged wood. I briefly wondered how long I'd been sleeping. Though the curtains were drawn closed, with a turn of my head, I could tell that Celestia's bright sun was low on the distant horizon. It would be night soon. "I've got to make it home, before too long," I muttered to myself, "I can't take this very much longer..." I stretched and stood from my long-time position in the chair. I took a second to examine it. The red and tan corduroy was faded and ripped in spots. The seat had several cigarette burns scattered across its surface, likely for the very same reason the walls and ceiling had yellowed over the years. There was a small, dingy-looking mini-fridge in the corner of the room, and I eyed it hungrily. I became uncomfortably aware that the last time I'd eaten anything had been on the train, nearly two days ago. My stomach growled incessantly, further encouraging me to satiate my appetite. I stumbled drowsily toward the fridge, crouched down, and opened it. It was empty. My stomach growled again, insisting I eat. To its credit, the organ was persistent. "I would give anything for some of that stir fry," I thought fleetingly. "I guess I'll just buy something..." Picking up my belongings, I walked out into the orange glow of sunset, noting the second room-key was back in my possession. The door slammed behind me, and I set course for the diner I had visited the day before. "Things not goin' too well with your lady friend, Hon?" Bonnie asked as she set my plate of pancakes down in front of me and poured me a new cup of coffee. She looked genuinely concerned, and I didn't want to be rude about it, but I didn't much feel like talking at the moment. I scoffed and took a sip of my freshly poured coffee. "That would be the understatement of the century..." Bonnie frowned. It seemed she'd formed some sort of attachment to me. She didn't like seeing me upset, and she -once again- decided to take a break to talk to me, sliding into the booth across the table from me. "Why don'cha tell me 'bout it?" The smile she gave me was sad, but obviously genuine. It had the most miraculous effect on me. For some unknown reason, I suddenly felt comfortable. I explained everything; I spilled my guts to this mare I barely knew. Bonnie kept silent for the most part, barely restraining light gasps at certain events, but when I spelled out the events of the morning, she couldn't help herself any longer. She slammed her hooves to the table and leaned over it to get closer to me, an angry expression plastered to her face for the first time since I had known her. "Why'dja do it, Spike!?" She growled. I was shocked, to say the least. "W-w-what?" I stammered. "Do what?" "Why'dja kick her out, Spike!?" Bonnie reiterated, "Mares...we're not the best at expressin' ourselves, but she was jus' tryin' to apologize!" I sat back on the booth with wide eyes, unable to speak between her sentences. "Sure, she got upset when she saw the paper. Sure, she started takin' it out on you, but'cha think she meant it? Right then, she needed some love and care, somethin' she knew you were good for, and you threw her out!" Bonnie shot daggers at me with her eyes. "Go find her right now before she does somethin' stupid!" I gasped, "B-but my meal!" "It's on me, now go get your mare!" I nodded and thanked her silently before I ran out of the diner into the cold night air of Manehattan. In my urgency, I didn't even have time to appreciate how dismal it all was. Bonnie was right. She was going to do something stupid... "I hope she holds on a little longer..." My lungs ached from running in the cold, night air. Regardless, I decided to take the stairs. I decided that they would be quicker than the elevator, and I had to get where I was going as soon as possible. I wasn't even sure Rarity had gone back home. For all I knew, she could be on some Celestia-forsaken bridge somewhere. Finally making it to the sixth floor, I slammed open the door to her apartment. The lights were on, all of them, and the door had been unlocked, but the apartment was dead silent. The soft sounds of my own steps were the only sounds to break the horrible silence. I decided, under the circumstances, to forgo closing the door behind me. There was an eerie, unnatural feeling in the air. It gave me shivers that shook the entire length of my spine. Steeling my resolve, I had searched through the rooms of the house, one by one. Everything was in the same, pristine condition I remembered it always being in, save for two rooms. The kitchen had not been touched. Evidence of that dreadful night was all around me. The last room I had checked, so far, was the restroom. It was a mess. The shower curtain had been ripped from the rod and was lying in the bottom of the tub. All the items in the medicine cabinet were scattered across the floor; make-up, assorted beauty products, toothpaste. The mirror had been bashed in. Trace amounts of blood were left on the remaining shards. My eyes made their way down to the sink, where rest of the glass had fallen, accompanied by much more blood and empty pill bottles. Some of the pills had spilled into the sink and onto the floor, but it was clear that most of them had been taken. My heart rate increased and I began hyperventilating. I ran out of the room, frantically following a blood trail I hadn't noticed on the way in. It led me to a door, and I hesitated. This was the door to Rarity's bedroom. There was no telling what I was going to find within, but I eventually decided that, no matter what, my friend needed me. I opened the door to find Rarity ..... hanging from the ceiling fan. My heart stopped, and I fell to my knees. Tears began to well in my eyes, then flowed down my cheeks in two, heavy streams. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. "W-what? No! No, no, NO!" Sobbing, I got to my hands and knees. I began to slowly crawl toward her lifeless body. "I'm sorry!" I cried out, "I was too late! I'm so sorry, Rarity! I'm sorry for everything!" I slammed my face down into the floor below her, and my tears began soaking the white carpet, turning it a light grey. My fist pounded repeatedly into the ground. "RARITYYYYY!!!!" It took several hours, but I finally calmed down enough to get up off the floor. I was still on the edge of tears, but I would manage. As I stood, I noticed a piece of paper, neatly folded into thirds, on the edge of her nightstand. Upon further inspection, I found that the upper-most fold read, "Spike," along with a red stain from her lips. Looking up to her face, I discovered her cold, blue lips had, indeed, been painted red. I also discovered she'd been crying when she died. I looked away quickly as I felt the waterworks coming on again. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at the letter glumly. "Why me? Why is it addressed only to...me?" Staring at the offending folds bore no answers. I sighed; this was going to be the hardest thing I had ever read, and I knew it. I started to cry again, softly, as I opened the letter. Dear Spike, I don't know if you will ever read this, but I need you to know a few things. First, I would like to apologize. I didn't mean what I said this morning, and I regret every word. You saved me, Spike. You didn't deserve to be treated that way. You never have. On that note, you were right. I've always taken you for granted. I hate myself for it, Spike. Seeing you now, and all you have done for me, has made me realize something that may have changed everything had I just realized sooner. I love you, Spike. I always have, and I was too blind to see it. You have every right to hate me now, Spike. Of all the selfish things I've done to you, this has to be the worst. I completely understand. I hate myself too! I've been so rotten to you and everypony! I deserved everything Super Star did to me, and I deserve this too. This had to happen. That's why you can't stop me, Spike. I took all those pills so that even if you come in here while I'm still writing this, you won't be able to save me. Not again. This is my chance to save you. I wasn't good enough for you. You can't save me. Even now, my vision is growing black. I am in so much pain. I'm dying as I write this... I want you to do something for me, Spike. Live your life. Live enough for the both of us. Be happy. Find a mare or dragoness that loves you openly and just as much as you love her, because it's important for you to fall in love again. You don't need me, Spike, but you are a gentle dragon. You're easily upset without friends or love in your life. Just...find somepony that makes you happy. Wherever I am...I want to see that smile on your face again. Good bye, Spike. With Love, Rarity After calling the authorities, I left Manehattan. I felt numb. I felt as if the world around me had suddenly stopped moving, yet as I looked out the window of the train car, I saw Celestia was raising the morning sun. No matter what happens in our lives, time moves on, even if we don't move on with it. Rarity's life ended that night, yet that wheel in the sky keeps on turning. If we just follow it, move forward and keep walking, then we will move on too. > Alternate Ending: Wheel in the Sky > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I snorted as I woke abruptly. A string of drool had escaped my lips, and I lazily wiped it away with the back of my hand. At some point, I must have cried myself to sleep. I gently rubbed the crust from my puffy, sore eyes. Sighing, I leaned back in the chair and stared up at the plain, yellowing ceiling. It was devoid of Spackle, and the cheap paint had begun to peel off the waterlogged wood. I briefly wondered how long I'd been sleeping. Though the curtains were drawn closed, with a turn of my head, I could tell that Celestia's bright sun was low on the distant horizon. It would be night soon. "I've got to make it home, before too long," I muttered to myself, "I can't take this very much longer..." I stretched and stood from my long-time position in the chair. I took a second to examine it. The red and tan corduroy was faded and ripped in spots. The seat had several cigarette burns scattered across its surface, likely for the very same reason the walls and ceiling had yellowed over the years. There was a small, dingy-looking mini-fridge in the corner of the room, and I eyed it hungrily. I became uncomfortably aware that the last time I'd eaten anything had been on the train, nearly two days ago. My stomach growled incessantly, further encouraging me to satiate my appetite. I stumbled drowsily toward the fridge, crouched down, and opened it. It was empty. My stomach growled again, insisting I eat. To its credit, the organ was persistent. "I would give anything for some of that stir fry," I thought fleetingly. "I guess I'll just buy something..." Picking up my belongings, I walked out into the orange glow of sunset, noting the second room-key was back in my possession. The door slammed behind me, and I set course for the diner I had visited the day before. "Things not goin' too well with your lady friend, Hon?" Bonnie asked as she set my plate of pancakes down in front of me and poured me a new cup of coffee. She looked genuinely concerned, and I didn't want to be rude about it, but I didn't much feel like talking at the moment. I scoffed and took a sip of my freshly poured coffee. "That would be the understatement of the century..." Bonnie frowned. It seemed she'd formed some sort of attachment to me. She didn't like seeing me upset, and she -once again- decided to take a break to talk to me, sliding into the booth across the table from me. "Why don'cha tell me 'bout it?" The smile she gave me was sad, but obviously genuine. It had the most miraculous effect on me. For some unknown reason, I suddenly felt comfortable. I explained everything; I spilled my guts to this mare I barely knew. Bonnie kept silent for the most part, barely restraining light gasps at certain events, but when I spelled out the events of the morning, she couldn't help herself any longer. She slammed her hooves to the table and leaned over it to get closer to me, an angry expression plastered to her face for the first time since I had known her. "Why'dja do it, Spike!?" She growled. I was shocked, to say the least. "W-w-what?" I stammered. "Do what?" "Why'dja kick her out, Spike!?" Bonnie reiterated, "Mares...we're not the best at expressin' ourselves, but she was jus' tryin' to apologize!" I sat back on the booth with wide eyes, unable to speak between her sentences. "Sure, she got upset when she saw the paper. Sure, she started takin' it out on you, but'cha think she meant it? Right then, she needed some love and care, somethin' she knew you were good for, and you threw her out!" Bonnie shot daggers at me with her eyes. "Go find her right now before she does somethin' stupid!" I gasped, "B-but my meal!" "It's on me, now go get your mare!" I nodded and thanked her silently before I ran out of the diner into the cold night air of Manehattan. In my urgency, I didn't even have time to appreciate how dismal it all was. Bonnie was right. She was going to do something stupid... "I hope she holds on a little longer..." My lungs ached from running in the cold, night air. Regardless, I decided to take the stairs. I decided that they would be quicker than the elevator, and I had to get where I was going as soon as possible. I wasn't even sure Rarity had gone back home. For all I knew, she could be on some Celestia-forsaken bridge somewhere. Finally making it to the sixth floor, I slammed open the door to her apartment. It was quiet, but not silent. All the lights had been turned on. The buzz of electricity was only disturbed by the gentle sobs coming from the bathroom. I ran; I ran past the wreckage in the kitchen, barely gracing it with a passing glance. I ran past the immaculate den before stopping dead in my tracks between the bathroom and the picture of all my friends. I gave a pleading glance at the picture, as if to say, "Please make this all better again," before determinedly pushing through the white door acting as a barrier between... Between... This was a mess. Pill bottles and beauty products strewn about the floor, curtain rod in the bath tub, shattered glass and blood everywhere, and there was Rarity, slumped down on her haunches in the middle of it. She looked defeated. "I...I couldn't do it," She whispered coldly. She gave a dark, sarcastic chuckle. "I'm so pathetic." "I think you're strong for not doing it," I told her, staring warily at the blood-stained wrist she was holding pressure on with a shaky hoof. Tears dropped from her face and drew pink lines in the stains of her fur. She scoffed. "Get out of here, Spike. It's not like you really care anymore. You made that all too clear this morning, and I did that to you. I turned you into that, and I deserve whatever I get. Just...go away." "No." Now she looked up to meet my eyes for the first time. Hers were bloodshot and red. They looked back and forth between my determined orbs, looking for just a slight break in my unwavering, strong and loving gaze. "W-what?" "I said 'no'," I said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm not leaving, and I'm never letting you try to walk out of my life again." Her tears began to flow almost imperceptibly faster. "S-Spike...Wh-...Wh- Whaaa!" She let go and dropped to the ground, choking on violent sobs that now came to her hot and wild. I took the two paces I needed to clear the distance and dropped to my knees before her. She wrapped her hooves around my waist in a tight hug, clinging to me for support as she cried into my lap. I never once asked her to stop crying. She needed to let it out, and Bonnie was right; Rarity needed to be loved, and I could always be trusted to deliver. It took some time, but Rarity finally calmed down. We boarded the train, and as we took our seats, I could see Celestia raising the sun. I looked to Rarity. Her eyes were still red and puffy, and blood still stained one of her forehooves. She was sticking close to me and looked back to me solemnly. "Look, Rarity," I ordered softly, pointing out the window with a kind smile, "It's a brand new day. Everything is going to change. I know it." We had left everything in that apartment; we hadn't looked back. "I don't know where we'll be tomorrow, but as long as that big wheel in the sky keeps on turnin', we'll make it through to the next day."