> The Day Spike Kinda Cared
>  by B_25
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> I – Of Death's Report & Exposition Galore
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Day Spike Kinda Cared
A story of not caring too much, nor too little, written by B.







~ I ~



Of Exposition Dumps & Break-Ups


NEXT, called Death. WILL THE NEXT MORTAL PLEASE ENTER THE ROOM?

Death's domain, only in the weakest sense of the word, could be considered a room: its floors were like a night sky, stretching infinitely out into oblivion in every conceivable direction. Death, if he were to gaze up from his desk, would remember what it felt to stare up from the bottom of the abyss—this caused him a lot of complaints because of a soul called Nietzsche.

Then someone knocked on Death’s door, a voice floating behind it. "Um, sir? Is it okay if I come in?"

OF COURSE, BOY, said Death, resting his elbow on his rectangular, black desk—he enjoyed things that were black. THERE IS LITTLE POINT IN COMMANDING YOU IF I DID NOT DESIRE YOUR PRESENCE.

The ebony door hung in the nothingness, suspended by a mysterious, invisible force, its knob squeaking as it turned left and right, the frame shifting an inch forward and back but never swinging open. "Uh, sir? I think the door is stuck."

THAT DOOR’S EXISTENCE PRECEDES TIME ITSELF, said Death with a groan. NEVER HAS A MORTAL STRUGGLED TO OPEN THAT DOOR, UNLESS IN A PLOY TO DELAY OUR MEETING. DO I FRIGHTEN YOU, CHILD?

"Not really," said the voice, its owner ceasing to play with the handle. "Kinda cold, though. Don’t suppose you could put a heater on or something like that?”

WE'RE IN PURGATORY BOY, said Death. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR THE DEAD TO FEEL ANYTHING, UNLESS...

"About that," said the voice, accompanied by something pounding against the door. It lasted for a moment, followed by a yelp of pain and panting. "It’s kinda the reason why I came to see you in the first place." The voice paused as teeth chattered. "You sure you can't put a fire on?”

THE NEAREST FIRE IS THE INFINITE FLAMES OF RAGE AND HATE, said Death. IT IS THE FLOOR BELOW THIS ONE, WHERE THE GUILTY PAY FOR THEIR SINS. PERHAPS YOU COULD WARM YOURSELF DOWN THERE?

"...on second thought, I'll pass." Thuds slammed against the door again, the yelps of pain repeating, yet the voice spoke over the sounds. "So—” thud “—I know that—” thud “—you’ve had this door—” a cry “—for a pretty long time—” a louder cry “—but are you sure—” sobbing “—there’s nothing wrong with it?” The voice learned to work through the pain and sadness. “Maybe a hinge that hasn't been oiled in a few millennia?"

THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THE DOOR, said Death, pulling the black hood of his robe over his head. His blue eyes shone through the darkness. THE SAME, HOWEVER, CANNOT BE SAID FOR YOU. He thought for a moment. HAVE YOU TRIED TURNING THE KNOB ALL THE WAY?

"Let me check..." The pounding stopped and the squeaking began anew, the knob turning left and right several times, the door still just as stuck. "No dice, but...it doesn't feel like its turning all the way."

IS THAT TO THE STRENGTH OF THE DOOR OR TO THE WEAKNESS OF YOUR GRIP?

"Let me give it my all, and then I'll get back to you." The door pulled back an inch, two feet scratching against it in order to support their owner’s weight, causing Death to sigh at what was to come next. The knob turned to the right further than it had ever done before, and yet, it still didn’t fully turn.

Then a yelp came from the other side, followed by a crash, and Death sighed once again, foreseeing a long day ahead of him—whatever constituted long in the underworld. "Yeah, this is because I’m too weak, just like all my other messes." The unknown stood back up, dusting himself off. "So, uh, I don't suppose you could open the door for me?"

YOU WOULD HAVE THE LORD OVER SOULS, THE REAPER IN THE NIGHT, A COMMUNICATOR FOR THE GODS, AND ABOVE ALL, A SKELETON REDUCED TO THAT OF A BUTLER JUST TO ACCOMMODATE YOUR INCOMPETENCE?

"My best friend puts up with me, and she's a princess!" The only response to that statement was silence, a silence that stretched on, broken only by the same voice again. "...would it help if I said pretty please?"

Death sighed, rising from his chair of bones and crossing to the floating door. WITH ANY LUCK, he said as he walked, I WILL BE JUSTIFIED IN CONDEMNING YOU TO AN ETERNITY INSIDE THE HOTTEST FLAME.

"That doesn't sound all too bad!" Death heard the voice say from the other side of the door, standing before it silently. He pressed his skull into his palm, rubbing against the smooth surface with grief. "Not only would it feel nice, but I wouldn't have to take a bath ever again! I’d set myself on fire more often if I weren’t afraid of setting the library on fire."

YOU DO REALIZE THAT FIRE BURNS, THAT FIRE KILLS, RIGHT? said Death, placing his bony hand on the knob to the door. THAT, DESPITE THE IMMORTALITY GRANTED BELOW, THE FLAMES WILL STILL INDUCE AGONY UPON YOUR FLESH?

"Oh, but I have scales, so no sweat!." The voice went silent for a moment. "Unless the hottest flame is hotter than lava that burns off scales!” he gasped in a way stolen from a pink friend. “Is it?"

For the first time in his, well, life, Death wondered if killing himself was forbidden, as well as the possible ramifications of doing so. He turned the knob, and the result would have etched surprise on his face, that was, if he had a face to begin with—his form allowed only for a shit-eating grin.

"Everything alright over there?" the voice said after a moment. "You having trouble with the door as well?"

NO. I AM HAVING ZERO DIFFICULTY WITH THE DOOR. Death shook his head. I AM JUST FATHOMING HOW THE GODS COULD HAVE CONCEIVED A CREATURE SUCH AS YOURSELF. He tried knob again, this time harder, but it still wouldn’t fully turn. AND IF THIS IS AN ACT OF DIVINE PUNISHMENT.

"Most ponies who meet me usually end up saying that after a while...” The voice slowly trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. "Griffons especially."

Death, summoning his infinite strength from a place beyond the current realm, turned the knob right, hearing a squeak but not feeling it turn an inch. It’d been created before he'd gotten the job, its wood imbued with the power of the gods themselves.

He pondered: why was the door responsible separating the living and dead rejecting him now? Had the gods relinquished him of his power, leaving him stranded in the nothingness responsible for keeping track of life above, forced to be driven mad by the creature on the other side of the door? He felt a shudder through his body at the thought.

NO, whispered Death in self-assurance, THE GODS ARE FAR TOO LAZY TO FIND SOMEONE TO REPLACE ME.

Death sighed, wiping his nonexistent brow and digging a hand into the infinite recesses of his robe. His bony fingers fiddled around in a pocket, scavenging until there was the clink of metal, pulling out a set of keys.

"It’s the door, isn’t it?" the voice started back up, much to Death's dismay. "You wouldn’t be taking this long if there was nothing wrong with the door. C’mon, tell me the truth. I won’t make you apologize.”

THE TRUTH IS YOU ARE AN IDIOT, said Death, sticking a key into the slot above the handle and unlocking it. He quickly dropped the keys back into his robe and then cracked open the door. NOW, LET ME FEAST UPON YOUR DRAGON OBSESSED PONY FACE.

A purple dragon stood on the other side of the door, rubbing his shoulder with a claw in a seemingly endless hallway, an overall guilty expression on his face, though this didn’t stop him from trying to smile. "So...you must be death then, huh?"

I AM A BEING JUST LIKE YOU, he said. MY NAME DESERVES THE SAME CAPITALIZATION AS YOURS.

"Oh," the drake said, letting his claws drop. "So you must be Death then, huh?"

DEATH WITHOUT ITALICS IS JUST FINE, BOY, said Death, stepping out from the doorway. I AM NOT IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO DESERVE SPECIAL TREATMENT. A hand slid out from his black robe, gesturing to the desk. COME NOW. STEP INSIDE TO MY DOMAIN.

"Uh." The drake did not move from the hallway, instead looking to the right and down its infinite length. "Am I consenting to something by crossing over? Like being trapped here forever unless I agree to your terms?"

THE FACT THAT YOU ARE HERE SIGNIFIES YOU HAVE ENTERED A DIFFERENT PLANE OF REALITY. Death let his hand fall back to his side. ONCE YOUR SPIRIT HAS PASSED ON, IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PASS THROUGH THE BARRIER BACK TO EXISTENCE.

"But I'm still alive!" the dragon exclaimed, throwing up his claws. "You can feel my heartbeat if you want proof."

IS THAT CONSENT? said Death, stepping into the hallway of pre-purgatory. He towered over the dragon, who managed to come up to his chest. THE GODS ARE VERY PARTICULAR ABOUT THESE ACTS. THEY DO NOT TAKE KINDLY TO MY TOUCHING OF THE LIVING UNLESS THEY CONSENT TO IT—VERY IMPORTANT THEY SAY IT OUT LOUD.

"I consent," said the drake, sticking out his chest. "Now come on and feel my heart!"

Death lowered himself to his knees, pressing his hand against the dragon whelp’s chest. He felt a heartbeat beneath the scales, and then another, and then he had to fight himself from stopping said heart—killing this annoying creature would be so easy, so easy to cover up in the intricate disguise of his own domain.

IT APPEARS YOU ARE STILL ALIVE. Death rose to his full height, pressing the same hand to his forehead. THIS BREACHES MANY LAWS AND IS THE HIGHEST VIOLATION TO BOTH REALMS. He removed his hand from his skull, looking down at the dragon. TELL ME, BOY, WHICH DEITY HAS CAST YOU DOWN HERE? SPEAK HIS NAME, AND JUSTICE SHALL BE DONE.

"I came down here of my own free will!" the drake said, far too happily for Death's liking. "On the way here, a snake told me where the lord over souls was—he also offered me an apple as well, but I wasn't very hungry."

Death's eyes glowed a brighter blue.

"I’ve read a lot of books about you from before, though most of them didn’t portray you the same," the drake said. "In some of them, it shows you making a deal with mortals, and I was kinda hoping to strike a deal with you." He gulped. “You still do deals...right?”

JUST, Death sighed, HOW WERE YOU ABLE TO SECURE AN APPOINTMENT WITH ME ANYWAY? ONLY THE DIVINE HAVE SUCH POWER.

"I used my mother's magic!" the dragon said, smiling. "She's also a princess of Equestria, though she started the trend along with her sister." His smile faded. "I uh, I kinda knocked her unconscious to use her magic. She would be really mad if she knew I came to see you, so do you think we can keep our exchange just between you and me?"

YOU ARE A STRANGE ONE, DRAGON.

"...so is that a yes?"

VERY WELL. Death nodded toward his domain.  I SHALL COME TO UNDERSTAND YOUR STRANGENESS SO I MAY REPAIR THE DAMAGE YOU HAVE CAUSED BY COMING HERE. IF ROOM PERMITS ITSELF AMIDST OUR TALK, WE SHALL SPEAK OF A POSSIBLE DEAL.

Death walked back into his domain, pausing when he did not hear footsteps. He turned; the drake stood in the doorway. WHAT ILLS YOU NOW, BOY? TIME MAY NOT FLOW THE SAME HERE, BUT I WILL BE DAMNED IF IT IS WASTED BECAUSE OF UNNECESSARY CAUSES.

"I wanna make a deal with you, Death," the drake said, holding onto the frame of the door. His body quivered. "But Twilight's always telling me how ponies make a small mistake in these situations, and because of that, some divine entities use it against them for the rest of their lives—like that king who wanted gold and now can't touch anything."

BOY, said Death, DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A SWINDLER?

The dragon blinked. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to know that."

LOOK. SOME GODS ARE NICE AND OTHERS CRUEL—I COULD NOT CARE LESS. I HAVE A JOB TO DO, AND YOU WANT A DEAL TO BE DONE, SO WE HAVE OUR REASONINGS IN THE AIR. YOU CAN RETURN TO THAT FROM WHICH YOU CAME, SO LONG AS YOU KEEP YOUR LIFE ABOUT YOU DURING OUR DISCOURSE.

"And you promise not to steal my soul?"

TO BE HONEST WITH YOU, said Death, turning around and striding to behind his desk, taking a seat in the chair of bones, I WANT YOUR SOUL AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS POSSIBLE, AND THAT WOULD BE THE PLACE WHERE LIFE LIVES.

"Well. Okay." The drake carefully lowered his foot to the night-sky floor. His eyes glanced at Death, who would frown if he could, waiting and waiting, until finally, the foot made contact with the ground.

The drake tensed, eyes gazing around as if something terrible was to occur, a few non-existent seconds ticking by, and then, with a mighty sigh, the drake was relieved that nothing bad would happen, as was the case with most of his worries. He wiped his brow and stepped further into Death's domain.

FINALLY.

Death snapped his fingers, something slammed and echoed throughout the abyss.

The drake whipped around to see the door imploding from existence, leaving only an infinite expanse of blackness behind it. He gulped, feeling a weight on his shoulder—had he been tricked? Was this plan in vain after-all?

TAKE A SEAT, BOY, said Death, setting his elbows on the desk. THERE IS MUCH TO DISCUSS.

The drake shivered and nodded his head, looking at his surroundings, or to be more specific, the absence of such. All that laid on the floor were bones and webs, the pinpricks of distant stars and darkness of infinite-depth. He shook his head, hoping to rid himself of his fear, approaching the desk while twiddling his claws as he did so.

YOU LOOK FRIGHTENED, BOY, said Death. He snapped his fingers, and just like that, a chair of bones manifested just before his desk—the perfect height for the dragon to climb onto. DOES THE COMPLEXITY OF MY DOMAIN REPLICATE THE SENSATION OF A VIVID NIGHTMARE?

"Not really," the drake said, sitting down on the chair. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to get comfortable.“It’s irritating more than anything.” He stopped fidgeting. “If Death’s allowed to keep his domain so messy, then why does Twilight give me so much slack for a couple of comic book lying on the floor?"

TWILIGHT? said Death, leaning forward. LAST NAME?

"S-Sparkle!" the drake stammered, sighing as he sat back. "Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic to the Elements of Harmony, Princess of Friendship, Savior of Equestria—"

AN UNTOUCHABLE, said Death, a blue glow surrounding his right hand. With a snap, a shelf manifested itself above the desk with an array of hourglasses standing across it. THEY PRIDE THEMSELVES ON THEIR TITLES TO LORD OVER THE MORTAL SOULS, AS IF THAT MAKES THEM ANYTHING MORE BEFORE THE EYES OF DEATH.

"And my name is Spike!" Spike said, blinking at the sensation of déjà vu. "Though I'm just her number one assistant."

JUST A NUMBER ONE ASSISTANT, YOU SAY?

Spike nodded.

I STAND CORRECTED, THEN, TITLES DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE TO DEATH. Death ran his fingers along the hourglasses, every contact clinking into the air, one of them exuding a rainbow glow with a lavender grain, the next one not nearly as flashy as its sand was green. SPIKE THE DRAGON?

"Yup!" Spike crossed his arms and grinned. "That's me, alright. The sand is even the same color as my belly scales."

SPIKE THE DRAGON, Death repeated, taking the top of the hourglass into his palm. YOUR FULL NAME, SERIOUSLY, IS SPIKE THE DRAGON?

"Yeah," Spike said with a concerned expression. "Why, is there something wrong with that?"

DRAGONS ARE MEANT TO POSE NAMES THAT STRIKE FEAR INTO THE HEART OF THEIR PREY, JOLTING THEM AT THE VERY MENTION. Death took ahold of the hourglass, and with the wave of his other hand, made the shelf to float to his side. ANCALAGON THE BLACK, ALEXSTRASZA THE LIFEBINDER, ENDRAX-DIVINE OF SHADOW. He paused with a sorrowful sigh. ALL YOUR NAME MANAGES TO ACCOMPLISH IS TO STATE THE OBVIOUS.

"Well, I mean, my mom kinda picked it out for me." Spike twiddled his thumbs and looked down, avoiding Death's gaze. "It rhymes too—Spike the Dragon—doesn't that make up for the lack of menacing part?"

...

"Death?"

...

"Please don't leave me hanging here." Spike chuckled. "Heh, get it? Because hanging, when somepony is hanged, they usually die, and then you come in and—"

ONCE WE HAVE DISCUSSED YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS ON BOTH THE LIVING AND THE DEAD AND RHYME, WE WILL BE WORKING OUT A NAME CHANGE.

"Do we have to?"

THIS IS PART OF YOUR DEAL THAT I REFUSE TO NEGOTIATE. WE CHANGE YOUR NAME OR BACK OUT THE DOOR YOU GO.

Spike crossed his arms and huffed. "Fine." He held out a claw. "But I'm keeping the first name."

CONGRATULATIONS, said Death, reaching his hand out from the black rope, taking hold of the claw. Spike shuddered at the touch, body going cold once they shook hands. WE HAVE REACHED THE DEAL YOU DESIRED. NOW SPEAK OF YOUR PURPOSE HERE.

"Hey!" Spike ripped his claw from Death's bony grip. "You said you wouldn't pull any of those small detail tricks!"

I AM MERELY COVERING MY BASES IN CASE THE DEAL YOU PROPOSE IS FOOLISH. Death returned his hand to the infinite recesses of his robe. He then cracked his neck. YOU ARE NO DOUBT A FOOL, SO THE POSSIBILITY OF A FOOLISH DEAL IS QUITE HIGH.

Spike tucked his lips inward.
"Fine," Spike said, after a moment. "But if the deal isn't foolish, you'll consider it?"

Death took his claw once more. WE HAVE A DEAL.

"Will you quit that!"

Death returned his hand, wiggling the bones that were supposed to be his fingers, summoning a fountain pen to manifest into existence and glide onto his thumb and papers onto the desk and then began to write.

Spike hovered forward and gazed at the papers, unable to read the language as his body began to waver and his eyes become sleepy, quickly sitting back in his seat and feeling instantly rejuvenated.

I'VE WRITTEN YOUR NAME IN THE REPORT, said Death, looking up from the pages. BUT YOUR HOURGLASS DOES NOT STATE YOUR PRECISE AGE.

"Oh, my mother left that ambiguous for a reason," Spike replied, leaning over the table and feeling tired again. He still couldn't read the letters, but pretended he could anyway. "For the sake of the narrative, you’re better off saying I'm over eighteen, that way you won’t get in trouble with the gods above."

I SEE. Death scribbled, or at least, it looked like scribbles to Spike. Death met his gaze again. BECAUSE YOU MORTALS ARE THE AUTHORS OF YOUR OWN LIFE, OF YOUR OWN STORIES, THAT YOU’RE ABLE TO CHANGE SUCH SMALL DETAILS?

Spike looked left. “Yeah.” He looked right. "Let’s go with that convenient excuse. Oh! And say that I'm about the average ponies' height when this story begins so we can get that out of the way as well."

Death scribbled some more.

Spike did his best not to see him frown.

NOW THEN, SPIKE. Death sat back in his chair. THE REASON YOU ARE HERE?

Spike smiled. "I bet you've been dying to know."

Death sighed.

"You're smiling!" Spike said, beginning to smile himself as he leaned closer to Death. "That was a clever one, wasn't it?"

SPIKE.

"Yes?"

I AM A SKELETON.

"Yeah?"

SKELETONS ARE FORCED TO SMILE PERPETUALLY. Death let his shoulders drop. IN FACT, I'M CRYING ON THE INSIDE, BECAUSE SKELETONS THEMSELVES CANNOT CRY.

"Oh, well, that blows." Spike fell back in his seat, tilting his head. "Would it helped if I cried for you?"

THAT WOULD ONLY MAKE ME MORE SAD.

"Oh, right."

THE REASON YOU ARE HERE, SPIKE?

"Oh, right."

...

"..."

...

"..."

SPIKE.

"Yeah?"

THE REASON.

"Yeah, about that." Spike clenched his left eye shut, opening it a second later. "Say, Death? Can I, uh, trust you?"

YOU HAVE NO CHOICE, said Death, voice sounding tired. YOU ARE STUCK HERE, IN MY DOMAIN, UNTIL THE TRUTH HAS BEEN SPOKEN BEFORE ME.

"Hey, Death."

...

"Death?"

YES?

"The truth, it's kind of, well, embarrassing."

...

"I'm trusting you with this, alright?"

...

"Promise me you don't think any lower of me once I've told my story?"

SPIKE?

"Yes?"

IT IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO THINK ANY LOWER OF YOU.

Spike, not one of a sound mind, took this to be a compliment. "Thanks, Death. Knew I could trust you."

AND THE IGNORANT DISTORT REALITY TO ACCOMMODATE THEIR IGNORANCE. Death tilted his head back, letting it rest on the top of the chair. GODS, HAVE I BEEN SO TRULY INEFFICIENT AS TO DESERVE THIS KIND OF PUNISHMENT?

"So, you ready to hear my story then?"

Death sighed, taking the pen once more, hovering it above the page. He glanced up at the drake, wondering how such a thing ever came to be. I AM READY. I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS, BUT I AM READY. WHERE DOES THIS TALE OF ABSURDITY BEGIN?

"A few weeks ago," Spike said, his head tilted in thought. "It started one morning when Twilight shot me in the face with magic, but we didn’t think too much of it at the time, that was, until I woke up the next day without a care in the world.” He paused, smiling bittersweetly at the memory. “I got a lot of things done that day, words I would have been too scared to say or stuff I was too terrified to do—everything I had pent up for my whole life, released in a single day.”

THIS TALE OF YOURS, said Death, IT HAS TO DO WITH PONIES, CORRECT?

“Uh, kinda?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “Why you ask?”

I AM THE LORD OF PONY SOULS MOSTLY. Death brought a finger to his mouth, wondering that, were he normal, if he would have chapped lips from the coldness of his domain, as well as all this talking. THE GODS ABOVE CARE NOT FOR MY INTERACTIONS WITH ANY OTHER KIND, REVOKING ANY REPORTS THAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PONY KIND.

“Guess I can get behind that then,” Spike said, lowering the same eyebrow. “Yeah, there’s a lot of ponies, from my friends to some I just wandered into.”

SUFFICIENT FOR ME. Death looked down at his desk and brought the utensil to the top of the page. JUDGING FROM WHAT YOU HAVE TOLD ME THUS FAR, SHALL I TITLE THIS REPORT THE DAY SPIKE STOPPED CARING THEN?

“I don’t know Jack about titling stuff. I usually end up ripping the letters I’m forced to title.”

IT IS NOT LIKE YOU ARE A PROFESSOR, DRAGON, said Death in an air of annoyance. YOU ARE NOT BESTOWING A TITLE UPON A KNIGHT, JUST A TITLE TO A REPORT.

"Hmm," Spike bounced his head left and right. Apparently, this helped him think better, although there’s no scientific evidence to this being the case—such a proclamation made possible by the experimentation of one Twilight Sparkle. Oh wait, this isn't important to the story. Okay, rewind.

"Hmm," Spike bounced his head left and right. "It's uncreative, but it'll sell."

...

Death wrote the title, muttering, EVERYONE IS A CRITIC. He looked to Spike. SO, WHAT EXACTLY HAPPENED ON THIS DAY THAT COULD OF HAVE CAUSED THIS MESS? Death asked, emphasizing ‘mess’ with a gesture towards the dragon before him.

“Jumping out a window and making your best friend worry, apparently.” Spike’s expression was solemn, but he still shrugged at the memory. “Went to a bakery and ate everything off the menu, not sure how that pertains to the story, but at least I found out dragons can't get diabetes!"

Death stopped writing and looked up from the page. IS THAT TRUE?

"Yeah!" Spike gestured down at himself, his body now slim in contrast to the belly fat he once had. "Didn't believe it myself until Twilight had me tested."

Death resumed writing. When it came to the part about diabetes, he put in brackets:

(FUN FACT: DRAGONS CAN'T GET DIABETES)

Death chuckled to himself. CONTINUE.

"Right, about what happened after that, heh." Spike scratched his neck and turned his gaze to the non-existent horizon, oblivion less intimidating than Death’s glare as he spoke of the next part. "Well, for some reason or another, I thought asking the mare of my dreams would be a good idea, so I went and did just that."

Death caught up in his writing, waiting for the words, hearing only of silence, and then looking up.

AND?

"Well, I got uh, you...you know..." Spike refused to look back at Death, licking at his dry lips. "What’s the word I’m looking for? When a mare, y’know, doesn't quite like you a hundred percent back?

YOU MEAN REJECTED?

That last word felt to Spike as though Death had stabbed him with the sword he wore at his hip. "I-I wouldn't call it rejected, per say..."

WHAT WOULD YOU CALL IT THEN?

"I don't know!" Spike looked back to Death, giving him a pleading look. Out of all the ponies Death had seen plead for their lives, none had looked so desperate as the drake before him. He was amazed, but wouldn't dare speak of it. "Do we need to label such a complex situation?"

THE REPORT DEMANDS IT. EITHER COUGH SOMETHING BETTER UP OR REJECTED IT IS.

"Well, if we look at the facts of the case, we'll see that I poured out my love to Rarity, and she didn't accept it."

YOU DO KNOW THE OPPOSITE OF ACCEPTANCE IS REJECTION, RIGHT?

"...I prefer the term ‘didn't return my love,’" Spike's whispered, knowing his voice would crack if he spoke any louder. "Rarity said we would always be friends, and that I was cute."

I SEE. Death wrote the passage down.

Spike threw himself at the table. "You wrote down rejected, didn't you?"

I DID NO SUCH THING.

"But you did!"

SPIKE.

"Yes?"

YOU CAN'T EVEN READ THE LANGUAGE I AM WRITING IN.

"So?"

SO HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT I WROTE?

Spike thought on this, became dismayed, and fell back in his chair for the umpteenth time. "I didn't care so much about it at the time, though I found how Rarity was putting me down to be boring. I spotted Cloudsdale during her lecture, deciding then and there to steal a hot air balloon, and for whatever reason, that made Rarity fall in love with me."

WHAT?

"Oh.” Spike blinked. “What part of that didn't you understand?"

THE PART WHERE YOU CONFESSED YOUR LOVE AND GOT REJECTED—

"I knew you used that word!"

—AND SOMEHOW WON HER LOVE BECAUSE OF IT.

"Oh, well that's easy." Spike chuckled at the thought. "Mares love what they can't have, or, at least, that’s what Applejack said. Tell a girl she can't have you, and she'll do anything in her power to prove you wrong—unless you’re ugly."

Death stared at Spike—who pondered if he was ugly or not— for a moment. Then, he spoke. IT WOULD APPEAR YOU ARE NOT SO FOOLISH AFTER ALL.

"That, and falling to your death is considered extremely sexy for some reason."

I STAND CORRECTED. Death scratched out something he had written. CONTINUE.

"So, I'm falling to my death, and from the corner of my eye, I see Rainbow Dash falling alongside me." Spike giggled at the memory, gaze becoming lost as if it were happening again before his eyes, the phantom sight of the cyan pegasus causing him to smile. "She was surprised that I wasn’t scared, that I didn’t care if I lived or died, with the latter becoming a reality hadn’t she’d saved me at the last second.”

Spike shook his head, eyes blinking to accommodate the present once more. “She lifted us up to Cloudsdale, and as I held onto her tightly, feeling her every heartbeat through her chest, I couldn’t help but develop a crush on her.”

RAINBOW DASH, said Death, dropping his quill. NOW, WHY DOES THAT NAME SOUND FAMILIAR? He went to gaze upon the floating shelf of hourglasses, but was stopped by the drake wildly shaking his hands.

"She comes later in the story!" he said, lowering his claws. "You don't want to spoil yourself by looking ahead, right?"

If Death could narrow his eyes, he would have on the drake. YOU BETTER NOT BE SCHEMING ANY TRICKS.

"None whatsoever," Spike said with a heavy sigh. "Just a story to tell, one with cotton candy and a fight in it."

A FIGHT YOU SAY? Death picked up the quill again, astonishment in his tone. FOR A DRAGON, YOU HAVE A FRAGILE LOOK ABOUT YOU. BUT I SEE THE WILL OF A DRAGON STILL ROARS IF YOU FOUGHT—

"Oh, I didn't fight!" Spike smiled widely. "Rainbow fought for me!"

... Death scratched something from the paper yet again. REMIND ME NEVER TO EXPECT ANYTHING GOOD TO COME FROM YOU.

"Already tell myself that every morning." Spike began to twiddle his thumbs. "I could remind you at the same time, that is, if you're up before sunrise."

Death didn't even sigh in disappointment that time, neglecting to mention how he never sleeps. He resumed writing. CONTINUE.

"Anyhow, because she had saved me, I decided to treat Rainbow to a pizza date afterward. At one point or another, she contracted me to assassinate my mother—a good price too.”

HOW MUCH DID SHE PAY FOR SUCH AN ACT.

“Five milkshakes," Spike said, nodding in satisfaction. “I know, pretty steep if I do say so myself.”

Death stopped writing. He tapped the quill on the desk, each tap progressively harder than the last, until he was practically stabbing the counter.

I HAVE COME TO UNDERSTAND OF YOU, DRAGON, Death began, impaling the wood with the quill, THAT ASKING YOU QUESTIONS ONLY MAKES ME MORE CONFUSED IN THE END. Stab, stab, stab. SO I ASK THIS QUESTION, NO LONGER OUT OF PAINED CURIOSITY, BUT BECAUSE THE REPORT DEMANDS IT SO.

Spike raised an eyebrow.

SPIKE, WHO IS YOUR MOTHER?

"Oh, that's easy!" Spike said, sitting up straight. "You have to promise to keep it a secret, okay?”

Death didn’t want to, but he nodded anyway.

Spike leaned over close, whispering, “The truth of the matter is, Princess Celestia is my mom!"

Death kept still.

Spike sat back. "Crazy, right?"

Death sighed.

"Well, okay, you may have gotten me there," Spike said with a roll of the eyes. "She isn't actually my mother. My biological parents abandoned when I was just an egg, which is probably why I have fears of abandonment, but that’s beside the point.” Spike repressed that thought, a ticking-time-bomb for another day. “Either way, I don't consider those dragons to be my family anymore."

SPIKE.

"Yes?"

I AM UNSURE IF I AM SUPPOSED TO FEEL PITY TOWARDS YOU, OR OUTRIGHT HATRED AT YOUR ABSURD EXISTENCE.

"I'd been trying to figure that out my whole life," Spike said while shrugging his shoulders. "Not caring for a day let me processed some mental baggage all right, but after all was said and done, I couldn’t say with certainty that I’d developed past being a wimp.”

Spike glanced down at his claws. “I still didn’t have a clue of what or who I was supposed to be. Caring too much about those things nearly drove me to insanity, so it was nice just to stop caring, and, y’know, be myself.”

SO YOUR MOTHER IS PRINCESS CELESTIA, Death said while writing, AND YOUR BEST FRIEND THE PRINCESS OF FRIENDSHIP. Death ceased to write, glancing up. AN ABSURD DRAGON SURROUNDED BY UNTOUCHABLES. WERE YOU TO TELL THIS TO A MORTAL, THEY WOULD CONSIDER THIS TALE A FAN’S FICTION.

"Tell me about it."

NOW THEN, AFTER YOUR DATE WITH THIS RAINBOW DASH, YOU WENT TO ASSASSINATE YOUR IMMORTAL MOTHER, CORRECT? Death resumed scratching the page with the quill. HOW DID THAT GO?

"Extremely well."

Death glared at him from the paper.

YOU MEAN THAT YOU KILLED AN UNTOUCHABLE?

"Oh, no! Nothing like that," Spike replied. "Just convinced her to stop being a princess for a night and to join me for coffee and donuts.” He smiled at the memory. “We ended up hashing a few things out, and ever since then, I've been writing letters to her."

YOU DO UNDERSTAND WHAT AN ASSASSINATION IS?

"..." Spike blinked several times.

RIGHT...A STRANGE ENDING INDEED, said Death, waving a hand. BUT A HAPPY ONE, NONETHELESS. WHAT OCCURRED NEXT?

"I rode a waterfall back home."

... Death didn't even bother caring; it seemed to be catching on. CONTINUE.

"Rainbow Dash saved me moments before impact, though the force knocked me unconscious—seems like she’s always the one saving my butt.” Spike tried to chuckle at his words, but nothing came out. "I’d woken up to drifting down a river, her watching over me the whole time, and ultimately pulling me out. Our bodies got close, and, well, she confessed that she liked me, only it was at the same time the spell was beginning to wear off.”

Spike sighed and slumped forward. “I was worried at the time, scared the dragon she had come to like would be gone tomorrow, and all that would be left was, well...me.” He pulled back and shrugged his shoulders at the memory. “So I asked if I could give her an answer the day after, just so that we knew full well what we were getting into.”

THAT'S... Death stopped what he was going to say, thought about his words, and ended up expressing them anyway. SURPRISINGLY RESPONSIBLE.

"I learned a whole lot about responsibility after that," Spike said, looking Death straight on. "Being careless gave me actions to be proud of and ponies to apologize to. I hashed things over with Twilight when I got home, rejected Rarity while sleeping standing up, and in a last act of confidence, decided I wanted to date Rainbow Dash after all."

Death recorded all the details. Upon finishing, he dropped the quill on the desk and sat back in his chair. SO THAT IS ALL THE EVENTS OF THE DAY COVERED?

"Uhm...yup?"

AND THAT'S THE REASON WHY YOU'RE HERE NOW?

"What? No!" Spike waved his claws. "All that happened weeks ago.” He crossed his arms. “I'm here because of what happened today."

Death collected his face into his palm.

WHY DID YOU NOT THINK TO START WITH TODAY?!

"Well, I wanted to avoid possible confusion, y’know?” Spike uncrossed his arms. “A lot of the stuff that happened today wouldn’t make sense if you didn’t know about that other day, so I figured I’d tell you both days in this place that has never seen day before.”

Death leaned over the table, and in grasping the dragon's wrist, slapped it with his other hand. EXPOSITION DUMPS ARE FROWNED UPON IN PUBLIC REPORTS. He let go of the wrist, picked up the report, and it promptly disintegrated into a small curl of smoke. NOW I MUST START A NEW REPORT DETAILING TODAY.

A new form appeared on the table just as the lingering remnants of the old report dissipated. Death picked up the pen, filled out the parts he already knew, and came to hover above the title of the report. SINCE MY TITLES ARE LACKLUSTER, YOU SHALL CHOOSE THE NAME OF TODAY'S REPORT.

Spike thought long, and he thought hard about it. The title of this report would summarise all that had happened today, all the joes and the woes of the ponies he met, and the ponies that would rather have not met him. How he made his greatest mistakes and so much more. Everything about this day had to be compacted into a single title, and just like that, genius came to the dragon.

"Okay, I got it!"

Death prepared to write.

"The Day Spike Kinda Cared!"

Death dropped the pen.

Spike smiled.



Death contemplated quitting his job.

> II – Of Break-Ups & Non-Existent Beards
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


~ II ~ 

Of Break-Ups & Non-Existent Beards 


"So they go, 'Dash, your flying skills are so, like, totally amazing that we want you on the Wonderbolt reserves! Of course, a few days are needed for the papers to go through, but it’s pretty much a done deal.”  Rainbow slammed her elbows onto the table, resting her chin on her hooves and leaning forward. "Can you believe it, Spike? Just a few more days and then I’m a certified Wonderbolt!’

Spike sat on the opposite side of the booth, his elbow propped up on the table, cheek held by his palm. A smile tugged at his lips while his marefriend spoke, growing larger the more excited she became.

“Of course I can, Dash," he said after a few moments, caught up in just watching her. "You're awesome, plain and simple, and with your track record, I'm surprised they haven’t recruited you sooner."

"Tell me about it!" Rainbow rolled her head with strands of her prismatic mane covering her eyes. Spike's cheeks burned pink from the cuteness, though his heart pained for a different reason. "Could you imagine this turning out like a normal job interview? Here, try being Spitfire."

Spike looked down, glancing between his legs. "But I'm not a girl." He looked back up, eyes narrowing. "In fact, I'm not even a pony..."

"Haha," Rainbow dryly remarked, flicking her hoof at him. "Now play the part!"

Spike sat back in his seat, paying no mind to the waiters that passed them by. He inhaled through his mouth and held his breath. He rose a claw to his forehead, lowering it over his face and covering his smile.  Once the claw passed over, the drake's expression became serious, his funny face slightly less funny.

"So, you're here for the job then, eh?" Spike said, trying to sound as feminine and authoritative as he could. His words sounded like masculine squeaks. "Please, take a seat. Let’s talk business.”

Rainbow Dash bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. A moment later, he unfurled her wings, hovered up a few inches, then hovered back down into the same seat, pinning her wings back to her sides. She looked to Spike, who only nodded his head.

"Your contenders all walked and sat down, but not you," Spike tilted his head back, gazing downward. "You found a unique way of doing the same task. There's something special about you, Rainbow Dash, I can feel it!"

"Feel it?" Dash recoiled back in her seat, flexing a petite wing over her muzzle. Her intoxicating giggle wafted into the air. "How can you feel anything when you're still too scared to touch me?"

Spike choked on nothing, threw himself forward, and leaned over the table. "You said I didn't have to touch you until I was ready!"

Someone coughed. It wasn't Dash.

"Um, excuse me, sir?" the voice said, and when Spike looked left, he found an orange mare standing before their table. She wore a white apron with a kettle floating in her pink magic. "Could you please sit back in your seat? And would you like some coffee to top-off with?"

"Of course!" Spike said, falling back in his seat. He even rose his claw in surrender for good measure. "A-And another mug sounds great! Not enough coffee makes a dragon go crazy, am I right?"

"Wouldn't know," the mare replied lethargically, leaning over the table to fill the cups. "Don't get too many dragons round these parts. In fact, you're the first I've ever laid eyes on." She looked at Dash with a blushing gaze. "Though, I'd recognize that mane anywhere."

Spike rolled his eyes. "At least one of us is a celebrity." He leaned close to Dash. "That was a cheap shot Dash, even for you." He had lowered his voice so the waitress couldn't hear his words but suddenly became afraid that neither could his marefriend. "Just because I'm a wimp doesn't mean I don't want to touch you."

The glance the waitress paid him weighed heavy upon his shoulder.

"...to hug or kiss you, I mean."

Rainbow Dash watched in silence as the drake pleaded, smiling and chuckling, closing her eyes to hold back the roar of laughter. Soon her cup was filled as well, and the waitress leaned close to her.

"I hope you enjoyed our service today," the waitress said, levitating a slip from the pocket of her apron. She dropped it into Rainbow's hooves, leaving a pen on the table as well. "No charge for a hero, but we would love to hear your thoughts."

The waitress stepped back, glared at the drake for a moment, then bowed and walked away. Spike watched her leave with an expression of confusion, and when he finally looked back to his marefriend, he found her roaring in laughter, muffled by the feathers of her wing.

"What's got you so happy?"

"Happy? I'm absolutely terrified!" Rainbow Dash let the slip fall from her hooves, which she pressed into her belly. "If those claws of yours were to feel me up, I don't think I'd ever be the same!"

"What the heck are you going on about?" Spike said, spotting the slip and picking it up. He read it over, and then, his eyes went wide. "If the pony you are with is a threat on your life, write help down below, and the proper authorities will be called."

Dash's laughter died down, folding her wing. "Pass me back that slip. Let's see if we can get your mom back on the phone."

"Rainbow!" Spike brought a claw to his lips, trying to keep her quiet. He looked around the diner, seeing that no one had heard, but their waitress from afar was all the more afraid. "Be careful when saying stuff like that!"

"Yeah yeah, because everypony doesn't know your mother is the police captain." Rainbow cracked the kinks in her neck, sitting up straight once again. "Should we go back to doing the interview?"

"Bit late for that," Spike replied, letting his cheek fall back into his palm. "Was going to joke about all the titles you have, saver of Equestria and Element of Harmony, youngest to perform a sonic rainboom and all that jazz, but that stunt seems kinda wasted now."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

The two sat in silence, the air becoming tense with a scent of awkwardness. Looking at each other became too awkward after a while, so the duo opted for rubbing their arms and looking around, sipping on their coffee when they could and searching for a new topic to bring up.

"But...yeah," Rainbow began, knocking the drake from his thoughts. He'd been sipping from his mug, looking up while he did so. "To be honest with you, I was startin’ to get worried about the Wonderbolts as of late. They’ve always hinted at wanting me on their team, and then time went by and they did nothing, so their hints nowadays just feel like words, y'know?"

'I'm..." Spike went for another sip, stopped, sighed, and set the mug down on the table. "...not sure what you mean."

"The whole situation just felt like, y'know, all talk." Rainbow sighed, wrapping her hooves around her mug. The contact burned, but she kept holding on. "I could scream from the clouds that I’d make it into the Wonderbolts, and when other ponies believed that I would, I could believe that myself just a little more.”

Rainbow let go of the mug, wincing upon doing so. “Then a year passed, and even though I trained super-duper hard, I still wasn’t any closer to my goal.” She sighed. “Soon enough, fewer and fewer ponies believed in my talks of making it big—and I can’t say I blame em.”

Spike wanted to say something, both the reason why he'd asked her for this sudden date and to console her, but he sensed she had more to say, and kept silent instead.

"It sorta became this passive thing of, 'Oh yeah, Rainbow wanted to be a Wonderbolt at one point. That's probably never happening, huh?'" Her hooves rubbed each other on the table, her gaze held low. "Nopony outright said it. In fact, everypony said it was just a matter of time before I was on the team.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I could sense it though, the difference between what they said and what they thought."

Spike watched her for a few moments longer, searching himself for the right words to say, what he needed to do to resolve this situation in the best possible way. He hated these moments, or rather, he hated himself during moments like these. Ponies should just say what they feel to be the case; they shouldn't have to think about what they should say.

"It all worked out in the end though, right?" Spike asked, taking his cheek from his palm, resting the arm on the table. "It turned out that you had all that it took, so it was just a matter of time, right?"

"Yeah," Rainbow said with a frown. She kept her head low but raised her eyes, looking into his. Her normally bright and joyful magenta irises were unable to belie the sadness and disappointment just under the surface. "You're right." She chuckled; it was devoid of joy. "And here I am telling everypony else not to sweat the small stuff."

Rainbow Dash returned to inspecting the table’s surface.

Spike proceeded to clench his left claw into a fist, fit as much of it as he could inside his mouth, then bit down as hard as his fangs would allow. His inability to help this mare during her lows frustrated him immensely. In fact, he had difficulty believing she had them in the first place.

Spike's fangs pierced through the layer of his scales, though the sensation was nothing in comparison to his thoughts. His eyes were set on Rainbow, looking down at her hooves, and even in her sadden state, she was still adorable in his eyes. She was more vulnerable than she let on, but it's during these moments that he felt the most connected to her—and the most useless to her.

Which was, of course, why he considered himself a lousy boyfriend, or drakefriend, or some other third thing.

When Spike and Rainbow had first begun their bizarre relationship, it was only through these vulnerable moments, that Spike believed they had some connection, which the absurdity of their relationship could work out in the end. But as more time passed, he soon came to realize that he was benefiting more from the relationship.

It would always be Dash telling him that he was overthinking things, that he was good enough, that he should stop caring so much like on the day they got together. She was always there for him like the loyalty she was known for, and even though he was always at her beck and call, he was never there for her in the same capacity.

Spike couldn't understand why someone of her greatness would have the same doubts. Why someone who had done so much for the world would fear to be unable to do it again. A few times, she bragged of how she was able to score him in the first place, and for the life of him, Spike could not figure out if she were lying.

If he was honest, Spike felt as though he weighed her down with his insecurity. That his understanding of her down moments did nothing to resolve them, and if she wanted to be a wonderbolt and a celebrity, then all he would be doing is holding her back with his lack of ambition.

Rainbow had promised to make him into the non-caring drake she fell in love with, but he wouldn't allow that if it meant sacrificing quality from her life. She was destined for great things, like all of her friends, but Spike felt that he was always meant to be nothing more than a bystander, a listening ear and silent supporter.

With an audible pop, Spike pulled his fist out from his month. Blood tricked out from where his fangs had pierced, and he watched the crimson rivulets for a few moments. Sighing, he shook his claw, suffered the stinging sensation, and then put his claws on the table. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and spoke something he would come to regret immediately.

"Listen Rainbow; there's something I wanna tell you," Spike began, but became startled at seeing his marefriend shuffling out from her seat.

"It's about time we get going," Rainbow said, standing up from the booth. She didn't look back at him as she spoke, merely a glance backward as she tossed some bits down on the table. "Tell me what's got your mind all jumbled once we're outside, all right?"

Spike stared at the bits on the table, seeing a fraction of his reflection made whole by the collection of glossy gold. He reached a claw into a small pocket of scales on his left leg, pulling a mere two bits. He stared at them, half of his face on each of the coins, and then tossed them onto the table, tiny in comparison to the rest.

Rainbow had already left, but Spike was quick to follow her outside.





The door slammed behind the drake, despite his attempts to pull it to a gentle close. He sighed, hoping no one inside was disturbed by the sudden noise, berating himself for not being better about such small things, and then remembered he had bigger things to worry about.

Worry, worry, worry. If one word could be used to sum up Spike's personality, it would have to be worry.

Spike walked down the small gravel path that led to Ponyville. The small restaurant in which he and Dash had their date was situated on a small hill, just on the outskirts of the town, presenting an excellent view of the tops of buildings and of wandering ponies. The sky loomed above, what few clouds there were faint enough to see the stars beyond. The aura of the night felt sweet and surreal.

Times likes these always captured Spike in a way that few times did, but the mare sitting on the cliff, her back turned to him and the strands of her colorful mane billowing in the wind—the mare always managed to capture his heart every time. So it was of little surprised that he was clutching his chest when he approached the same cliff.

"Rainbow?" Spike said, stepping towards the mare. "What are you...what are you doing?"

Rainbow said nothing. She patted the cool grass next to her.

Spike gulped, stepped forward, and sat down next to her. Their legs dangled over the cliff, the wind chilling their bodies, and overall helping the drake to take the deep breaths needed to settle his body and mind. He had no idea what to do, what to say or how to act, so he fidgeted in place and awaited further orders.

"Uh, Rainbow?" Spike said, rubbing his arm. "Is there something we're supposed to be looking at or—"

Rainbow pointed a hoof at the sky.

Spike looked up, searching the horizon for something, anything that could explain current events. But he found nothing, other than a town beginning to retire for the night, and a sky that he could stare at forever.

"Hard to believe it's only been two weeks," Rainbow finally broke the silence, earning the gaze of the drake, but hers was still spent in the sky. "Y'know, if I try really hard, I can still see both of us up there. You were falling from your balloon and me saving your scaly butt." She sighed, a smile gracing her lips. "I hadn't had that much fun since flight-camp." She looked at him, her expression somewhat sad. "Do you know why?"

Spike did not trust his voice, so he slowly shook his head.

"Because you were so unpredictable," she said, smiling. "Most things can be solved by punching harder or flying faster, that's always been my motto. But you?" She scooted closer to him, their flanks touching. "You were just weird, plain and simple. Not even Twilight could figure out what you could do next, and that's what made you awesome in my eyes."

Spike dug his claw into the dirt and clutched it hard. His heart hammered against his chest, both in joy at the praise and pain at it being misplaced. Her cyan fur on his purple scales sending a shiver up his spine. He wanted nothing more than to return her embrace, but he knew it wasn't right to do so.

It wouldn't be right to let this go on for much longer.

"Most ponies would go crazy, cruel, or just plain disgusting with revealing their innermost selves. When you stop caring, it doesn't make you into someone else; it just reveals who you really are." Rainbow leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up into his eyes. "And I like who you are. If you shed that insecurity and doubt you could be so much more, and I'm just the mare to help you do that."

Rainbow's cheek brushed against his scales, nuzzling them as she rose up along his neck. Spike looked around out of fear of being watched but found no one else around. He hoped she couldn't feel him shivering.

"I made a promise to Celestia," Rainbow said from under his chin, kissing there softly. "That I'd stick with you even if you returned to normal. I told her I would, and I also told her I'd make you better." Finally and hauntingly, she rose her muzzle up to his, pressing their snouts together. They looked into each other's eyes, one full of determination, and the other looking as though they were about to cry.

"I wanna help you, Spike," she said, bringing her lips closer to his. He'd never been so close to a mare before, and never had he been so terrified. World ending scenarios, as scary as they are, were always in the hooves of Twilight to solve. But this? The mare that wanted to be his? The power was in his claws, and he always trusted them to be clumsy. "But if you don't want me inside that head of yours, then there's not much I can do."

Spike felt her breath on his lips, the heat of her blush awash on his scales. He dug his claw deeper into the dirt of grass summoning all of his will to do what he needed to do. He parted his lips just as hers came in for the kill, but before he could have his first kiss, he turned his head away instead.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Dash." Spike shuffled away from her. Dash yelped, surprised at suddenly having to carry her weight. She looked at him confused, but he refused to meet her gaze. "But I can't do this." He shook his head. "I can't let you do this."

"Do what?!"

"Carry me!" Spike said, feeling his eyes beginning to burn. "All this time, from the moment this all started, you've been carrying me! I thought I could get better, that I could stop being...whatever I am and maybe even carry you!" He crossed his arms and sulked. "But all I've done is drag you down to my level. I try so hard to say the right things, do everything I can to make you happy, but the only reason you're unhappy is that you're with me!"

Spike clenched his eyes to hold back his tears. It hurt. Everything hurt. He knew it would, but he could never expect the agony that came from having his heart break apart.

"You're everything I could want in a mare," he said, wiping below his eyes, then opening them. "And I'm nothing you'd want in a dragon." He chuckled and did not know why. "It's only natural we end it here, y'know, before you could make a mistake you'd regret."

"Do you think I regret this?" Rainbow said, rising. "That dating you was some mistake I was too foolish to see? You've just been a drag that my life would be much better without?"

Spike couldn't bear to look back at her, so he nodded.

"Well, it's not!" Rainbow shouted. "You keep going off on how great I am like I've never made mistakes before! Trust me, dating you isn't one of them, and never will be. Thinking you could become that dragon you wanted to be wasn't a mistake either, though I doubt you'll be able to think otherwise."

Spike clutched his next breath, his claw clenching its hardest. He couldn't half-bake this; this had to be a clean break up.

"I'm never going to be like that again, Rainbow!" Spike stood up as well, refusing still to look back at her. "Not caring and doing as I pleased. I'll admit, I got a lot of things I worried about done, but not caring also hurt Twilight, it hurt a lot of ponies going about their day, and most importantly of all, it gave you the false impression that I could ever be the drake you want me to be."

Spike finally turned around, offering the mare a soft smile. "I'll be your friend, your listening ear, but I always seem to mess up trying to be anything more than what I am. I'm not going to drag you down from greatness just because I'm this way."

He held his claw out. "So, how about it? Friends again?"

Rainbow walked up to him, never breaking eye contact.

"Best friends?" he tried again.

Rainbow raised a hoof to his claw, and before he could grab it, he felt it smack across his cheek. He was looking left and breathless, and before he could look back to her, a pair of lips kissed the burning sensation.

Spike looked down at her. Dash had her eyes closed, lips pressed fully against his cheek, and he could feel her every emotion. He felt happy and sad, conflicted and pissed, with no way to express the complexities.

"You are so wrong, Spike." Rainbow pulled back from the kiss, looking up at him with an expression of defeat. "You're just as great and as unique as you claim me to be. But if you refuse to see that, then I guess there really is nothing I can do for you."

Rainbow unfurled her wings and turned away, not even looking back as she broke into a trot. "Guess I'll see you around, best friend."

Spike kept holding out his claw, even as she took flight into the sky and disappeared beyond the clouds. He rose his claws up into the air, reaching out for that which he once had, which he wanted to be, knowing full well he could never close that distance between them.

Spike sighed, and without a word, began the long trek home, alone.





YOUR PURPOSE HERE IS TO RESURRECT YOUR DEAD RELATIONSHIP WITH THIS MARE?

Spike shook his head, ripped from the stream of memoirs. "What? No! It was my choice to end the relationship, and I'd be a hypocrite to seek Death to fix that mistake."

SO YOU ARE NOT HERE BECAUSE OF HER?

"No!" Spike blinked. "Well, maybe... in a kinda roundabout way?”

Death simply stared at the dragon before him.

“It's a long story, okay!"

IS THERE ANY WAY TO MAKE THIS STORY SHORTER?

"Maybe in the second draft," Spike replied. "But it's probably for the best you know all the details. It could help explain, uh, a future workload."

Something rang throughout Death's domain. The owner—in case you forgot—the embodiment of Death, rose up from his chair. He snapped his bony fingers, made a cabinet of nothing but wooden shelves appear, and peered at the numerous hourglasses lining them. Each one made a sporadic and peculiar ding, and after each one sounded, the sand inside began pouring just a little bit faster.

YOU! Death turned around, and if he had a shadow, it would have blanketed over the sitting dragon. He held up an hourglass at random, though they were all white and pouring at the same speed.  TELL ME, COULD YOU EXPLAIN WHY ALL THESE HOURGLASSES ARE WHITE?

"Uh, no?" Spike replied, fidgeting in their seat. "But, if I had to guess, it has to do with the griffons?"

SO YOU ARE BEHIND THIS! Before Death could go on, more of the same hourglasses began pouring into the room. There were no clouds, and yet, it was raining hourglasses.

Spike felt like singing a spoof of a popular song, but that idea was banged out of his by being hit by numerous hourglasses. No matter where he went or what he did, absurdity just followed him wherever he went.

THIS WAS NOT IN FATE'S PLAN, said Death, holding his hands over his head. SHE WILL BE MOST DISPLEASED UPON HEARING OF THIS. THERE WILL BE MORE WORK BECAUSE OF THIS!

"Would it help if I said the rest of my story could answer your question?" Spike offered with a guilty smile. He held his claws over his head as well, but the weight of the hourglasses made his knuckles bang into his scalp. "Maybe even save you some work? Maybe even your bony butt?"

Death glared at him, which translated to a supernova blowing up in the glow of his eyes.

Spike had a heart attack, came back, had another heart attack, came back once more, and acquired Nirvana: don't talk shit to Death. With his higher state of being, the drake sat perfectly still and waited.

YOU WILL EXPLAIN THE EVENTS OF THE DAY, AND ONLY THE ONES THAT MATTER TO PRESENT EVENTS. Death took a seat back at his desk, and snapping his fingers; the falling hourglasses glided away from him. YOU HAVE ME HOOKED OUT OF INTEREST AND OBLIGATION. DON'T MAKE ME LOSE INTEREST, OR YOU WILL LOSE YOUR LIFE.

"That's a few boxes checked from the books on writing that Twilight has," Spike said to himself, growing used to being belted by hourglasses. "The hook, a conflict, and a price. Is there anything else I'm missing?"

YES. YOUR AUDIENCE’S PATIENCE.

"Riiight. So the day that fired off this whole mess. It was a sunny morning when I awoke, but all was not peaceful in Ponyville when—"

SHOW, DON'T TELL, DIPSHIT.

"....right. Cue convenient page break?"





“My my, is that my darling?” Spike looked up from the trail, blinking as he was now at the heart of Ponyville. Sitting on the rim of a nearby water-fountain was Rarity. “You look so downtrodden. Bad date?”

Spike walked past her. “Go away, Rarity.”

“So it was a bad date after all!’ Rarity followed after him, her hoofsteps clopping into the air. “It’s a shame, really, as friends in love warm my heart. You should be glad to hear that my date when smashingly.”

Spike rolled his eyes. She now walked next to him.

“He was a prince if I’d ever seen one, taller and stronger than yourself, with a tongue of such eloquence." Rarity moaned.

“At least I have the longer tongue,” Spike shot back, his voice tired. Even still, he chuckled the connotation of his joke.

“My, feeling inferior? Your date must of have really gone sour.” Rarity leaned in close, grinning in superiority over the drake who’d reject her. “You can share the details with me. Even if you two broke up, my, you can trust me to tell no one else.”

Spike grumbled and picked up the pace. “Go. Away. Rarity.”

Rarity stopped, watching the drake disappear. She pressed a hoof against her chin. “No...they couldn’t have.’

She gazed up into the night sky, letting her mind process the possibility process, smiling upon coming to a favorable conclusion. “Now, doesn’t this change a few things? Spikey, you broke my heart when you rejected me.”

Rarity looked down the trail the drake had gone, now grinning with delight. “Now let’s see what I can do with that broken heart of yours.”

She made her way home, letting a plan fester in her head.





Since the day he had stopped caring, Spike was given his own room. He was given his room for a few reasons. First, it was because he now stood on equal footing on the grounds of maturity—one last lie he was able to squeeze out before the spell had worn off. Second, because of his convenient growth spurt, he needed his bed, for which one was put in the basement. And last, but the most important, late at night one time, Twilight had woken up to strange noises coming from his basket. She approached it silently, and, in pulling his basket, she became horrified at the embarrassing sight she hoped to avoid with the drake.

Spike looked up at her, face full of surprise and shame, his right claw suddenly clenching from his toy. He had these strange feelings for the past week, and only recently had he found an outlet for pouring them out. He kept as quiet as he could during these times, but sometimes the excitement of the moment was too much to bear, and he couldn't help but make a few sounds.

"Spike..." Twilight backed away from the basket, slowly shaking her head. "I raised you better than this!"

"Twilight, I can explain!"

Twilight became still. "There's no explaining this. So this is why the comic store was low in their secret stash."

"I swear, I'm not a narcissist!" Spike cried, rolling out of his bed with a thud. He rose up. "I just really like her, but I have trouble expressing my feelings sometimes. It's better doing this than something I may regret, y'know?"

"But this, Spike!" Twilight said, stepping forward, her voice full of concern. "Surely it's better to act towards your marefriend than to resort to something like this!"

"It's not, Twilight," he said, his voice now tired. He bowed forward, picking up both of his toys, admiring them so. "By playing pretend, I can get out what I feel, and see what her responses may be."

"But, Spike, you're playing with dolls!"

Spike held the figure of himself and the figure of Rainbow Dash high up in the moonlight. "They're action figures!"





SPIKE. WRONG DAY.

"Oh, right." Spike scratched the back of his head, smiling. "Rewind!"





Spike sat in the basement of the library, his favorite place in the world both happy and the sad, though he found himself mostly the latter. No light entered from outside, it was nice and cool no matter the day, and best of all, he had a lock on the door to keep everyone else out.

Empty buckets of ice-cream stood around his bed. The sound of a straw emptying a large cup echoed through the subterranean room. Without looking away from the task at hand, Spike set the cup—dripping with watery condensation—upon a book laying on the bedside table. Somewhere nearby, Twilight felt a twinge in the back of her neck.

The owner of the room laid back on the bed, comic held between his claws. Now that he didn't have any higher ambition for life or a marefriend to love, he could finally catch up on the pile of comic books hidden underneath his bed.

Spike sighed, flipping to the next page. Light music played from the record-player across the room, the same depressing album over and over, because it made sense to play sad music when you're sad instead of playing happy music in a futile attempt to make you happy. That, and because he was also lazy, and the stopping of his daily job meant that just getting out of bed meant work, and he wanted to avoid work for as long as possible.

Spike sighed again, but for the sake of avoiding repetition, he let the comic drop on his chest. He'd gotten half-way through the comic, but if he was honest, he wasn't really reading as just indulging in his sad thoughts. If he could grow facial ‘hair’, Spike would have developed a beard just to show his sadness, but because of his inability to do so, he got his sadness across by being a moody cunt.

A knocking came from the door at the top of the staircase.

"Go away, Twilight," Spike said, too lazy to bring himself to yell. "I told you I wanted a few days alone, and two days doesn't count as a few." His eyes narrowed. "Okay, maybe it does, but I'm going to need more than a few days, alright?"

A brilliant flash of purple enveloped the basement.

Spike sighed at the Princess towering over his bed. "Y'know, locks and privacy kinda become irrelevant when you just teleport. Hard to believe I had my independence, that I'm now my own drake when you can, ya know, just teleport into my space whenever you please."

"I know, I know," Twilight panted out, cracking out her back. "It's just, we've been out all day looking for Rainbow, but no one has seen her."

Spike frowned. For whatever reason, he found relief in that his ex-marefriend was taking this as badly as he was. But that thought just reminded him that there was, indeed, a connection between them, and made him feel even sadder.

"Now, you said that you didn't want to talk about whatever happened between you," Twilight said, igniting her horn and pulling a letter from her mane. She floated it into the drake's claws, who quickly opened the already open letter. "But this is important enough to warrant the intrusion. Please, just read the letter."

“I don’t know, Twilight.” Spike rose the letter to his eyes. “After what happened, I don’t want anything to do with Rainbow…” His eyes scanned the text.



Rainbow Dash:

This is a formal notice of your duty under our cadet's program. After reviewing your test scores and performance results, we would like to introduce you to our training program. The ability to survive training will permit you into the academy, which then leads to a spot on the team.

There are limited spots in the program. Please report in pony to Cloudsdale to accept or deny the request before spots are taken.

– Captain Spitfire



Spike's claws trembled as he read the note. Try as he might to stop them, tears leaked from his eyes the moment he finished reading the letter. He shivered with delight and his lips stretched into an unprecedented smile.

"Twilight, do you know what this means!" Spike said, leaping out of his bed with ease. He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her with the excitement he felt. "She did it! She finally did it! Of course Rainbow could do it, but now the Wonderbolts see that she can do it! This is perfect!"

Twilight was confused; then she was happy and began to giggle as well. "Yes, Spike it's great news! Glad it finally got you out of bed."

Spike stopped moving, realizing his body now felt light and his heart no longer heavy. Just like that, the happiness he felt for his friend infected him, and despite all that had happened, he couldn't wait to break the news to Dash. "So what did Rainbow say? She's going to say yes, right?'

"I'd think she'd say yes to the thing she trained her whole life for," Twilight replied, pulling back from his claws. "Issue is, the Wonderbolts want her to do this, but when they sent a spokes-pony to her home, nopony opened the door. They ended up contacting me; it's why I have the letter."

Spike's mouth went agape. "You mean she doesn't know?!"

"No," Twilight shook her head, her face losing its joy. "And that's what has me worried. Apparently, she hasn't been home for a few days, and nopony else has seen her. In fact, your last date was the last time she was seen."

Spike's face lost its joy as well.

Twilight opened her mouth, about to utter something, but she quickly caught her tongue. She thought long and hard about what she was about to say, coming to sigh after a few moments, and lifting a hoof to rest on her assistant's shoulders. "Look, Spike, I know the last time that I didn't respect your space, you jumped out of a window and made mayhem in Ponyville. Were this any other time, I'd wait for you to be ready and listen, just as you would do for me."

Spike laid his claw on her hoof, squeezing it slightly. "I know, but Rainbow Dash..."

She nodded. He sighed.

"To be honest, I know why she's missing," he said, looking away out of shame. "Our last date was just that: our last date. I, uh, kinda broke up with Rainbow Dash."

"WHAT?!"





SHE ISN'T ALLOWED TO DO THAT, said Death. ONLY I'M ALLOWED TO DO THAT. PLEASE DON'T BREAK CONSISTENCY.

"Jeez, sorry," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "Okay."





"What?!"

"I—uh...I broke up with Rainbow?"

Twilight's hooves slammed down on the drake's shoulders, using him to support her body as she reared up on her hind legs. She growled into his face. "What do you mean you broke up with Rainbow Dash!?"

Spike gulped. He didn't expect a reaction like this from Twilight of all ponies. "Well, I uh, felt like I was dragging her down, so I figured it'd be best to break it off. So nothing was holding her back."

"And she was okay with this?!"

"Well," Spike looked up in thought, remembering both the smack and smooch. "She wasn’t not okay with it, I think."

Twilight glared. "Spike, she liked you."

"And I like her!" Spike replied. "It's just, I wasn't good enough for her, alright?!"

"By whose standard?"

"My own!"

Twilight sighed, falling to all four hooves. "Celestia, Spike! If I'd known the situation was this bad, I would have checked up on you sooner. What made you think that was a good idea?"

Spike sighed as well, sitting on his bed, head hung low. "I already told you, I wasn't good enough for her. I didn't know what to say or do, and I felt like I was messing up her life with every mistake I made!" He looked up, staring into Twilight's concerned gaze. "She was just too good for me, okay? I couldn't be like the drake she liked again, and it just felt like I was just wasting her time."

"Spike...do you really think that?" Twilight said quietly, her head low and ears folded down. "That Rainbow is better than you? That you had to be something more in order to be worthy of her love? That you always had to do right to be a worthy drakefriend?"

Spike opened his mouth, trying to find the words that spoke of how right she was, but he found that his throat failed him. So he sighed, nodded his head, and waited for whatever came next.

"You, of all ponies and dragons, should know Rainbow better than that." Twilight walked to the bed, sitting next to him on the mattress. "Rainbow wouldn't have taken you on as a charity case. Even if you're not exactly the drake she liked, she still laughed all the same. She liked you, no matter what Spike you were."

He sighed. A moment later, he felt a wing wrap around his torso.

"Guess I messed up big time," Spike muttered, letting his face drop into his claw.

"You're just scared and confused, Spike," Twilight said, scooting so that their bodies touched. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "You did what you thought was right, but you could have done it just a tad better. We can make things right again; we just have to find Rainbow Dash."

Spike wrapped an arm around Twilight, relying on her embrace to give him strength. "I want to find her too, to make sure she's safe and gets the news, but I’m going straight home after that.” He sighed. “I doubt we'll ever get back together. I'm not even sure what I want anymore."

Twilight hugged the drake fully, and he did the same, just holding each other close. They kept like this for some time, before finally separating.

"You don't have to get back together," Twilight said, pulling away from the embrace. "But you should make things right with her before the situation gets worse." She stood up from the bed, levitating the letter back inside her mane. She looked back at him. "Do you think you could help look or do you need some more time alone?"

Spike groaned, closing his eyes. "No. I've spent enough time brooding. About time I got outside and do something useful."

"That's what I like to hear!" Twilight said, slapping a hoof into his side. "If you can, try to talk to all of our friends to see if they've seen them. I'll scout Cloudsdale and areas you can't reach to see if she's hiding away, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan, Twi." Spike stood tall, feeling his blood begin to pump at the prospect of adventure. He was still at odds with himself, but at least helping find Dash would take his mind off stuff and repair a bridge. "I'm sure she's probably just holed up at some pizza joint or something. She likes pizza and milkshakes when she's sad."

"Uh-huh." Twilight gazed past him to the milkshake set atop the book and cringed. She looked back at him. "And you two broke up because...?"

"Because I care too much about stuff that doesn't matter?"

"Riiight."

Twilight turned to teleport but felt as though she needed to say one more thing. "Hey, Spike?"

He was heading towards the staircase when her voice stopped him. He stopped and turned around, "Yeah?"

"You know, once this is all over, you can talk to me about whatever, right?" Twilight said, ceasing the magic from her horn. "I won't ever judge you for anything you say, and I'll try to help the best I can."

"I know, Twilight," Spike said with a tone of uncertainty. "I'd do the same for you."

"It's just..." Twilight struggled to find the words. "I...I wish you would trust me with whatever bothering you more often. You're my friend, my best friend, and I'd rather you talk to me first before deciding to break up with your marefriend."

Spike sighed and closed his eyes. "You're right. I just...I don't know."

Twilight nodded her head, then looked away. "Okay."

The two were supposed to leave, yet neither moved. Spike looked as if he was waiting for her to go first before he could do the same, so he stood there, waiting for the mare to do or say something.

"And, another thing, Spike."

"Yes?"

"One of my potions went missing the other day," Twilight said, her tone careful. "It was to induce the same effect my spell had on you, the one that made you stop caring. You didn't; I don't know, maybe borrow the wrong one by accident?"

"Sorry, Twilight." Spike hopped up a few steps. "But my count of your potions was accurate the last inventory check. Maybe you made less than you thought?"

"Maybe," Twilight replied, lighting up her horn. "I'm off. Be safe, okay?"

"You as well."

And in a flash, Twilight was gone.

Spike stood on the staircase for a few moments, waiting and thinking, and once he felt like the air was clear and there would be no intrusions, he went back down the stairs. He went to the book, lifting off the milkshake and opening the book. The thick pages were cut out in the middle, allowing for a small vial to be hidden.

He took it out, holding the blue liquid to the light. He then lowered it, popping off the cap and holding it to his lips. He inhaled deeply, the rich lavender scent. He pressed the vial against his lips, which were as dry as his throat, and he wanted nothing more than to down the contents.

But try as he might, Spike couldn't drink the liquid. He put the cap back on, put it back in his pocket, and went to the staircase. He left his bedroom despite not wanting to, he then left the library despite not wanting to, and went outside, only because he wanted to find Rainbow Dash.



The morning sun greeted him.

> III – Of Break-Ins & Broken Spirits
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


 ~ III ~

Of Break-Ins & Broken Spirits


Robberies are always a pain to plan and to execute, to steal and make an escape, but the true pains, of course, are placed upon those that walk in on one by mistake. For starters, if those unfortunate souls did not turn back around, then the rest of their afternoon was guaranteed to be spent in a hot, stuffy room.

Of course, it doesn’t help when the robbers won’t let their victims talk, though this is because they are performing a robbery, and robberies have a tendency of making ponies nervous. They think their victims will formulate some plan against them, but in actuality, that latter just want to shit-talk their captors behind their backs: a means of regaining some sense of control, as well as an outlet for the stress of the situation.

All can agree, that the most annoying part of a robbery, is the possible loss of life. Equestria has remained ambiguous about its time period and technological progression, allowing for various creative interpretations of the weaponry created by pony kind. That being said, however, those 'interpretations' of the lazy persuasion tend to rely on unicorn magic going Pew! Pew! Pew!





YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN.

Spike shook his head, seeing he had made his claw into the shape of a gun. Not like a realistic interpretation: just two fingers (or talons?) pointed forward with this thumb (thumb-talon?) upwards. He fired his 'gun' and nothing happen, unsure why he felt so disappointed.

"Sorry," Spike said, putting away his gun. It was foolish to think he could kill Death anyway. "My claws just move on their own when I tell stories. I can't help it."

NO. THAT IS FINE. Death leaned back in his seat, letting his bony hands drop into his lap. IN FACT, IT HELPS WITH VISUAL CUES, SO KEEP DOING THAT. He looked directly into Spike's eyes, his own two glowing orbs of brilliance. BUT YOU ARE TELLING MORE THAN WHAT YOU ARE SHOWING—A TELLING GALORE AS WE CALL IT IN THE BUSINESS OF REPORT MAKING.

"What? It's not that bad," Spike pouted, crossing his arms and looking away. A thought struck him, and he dared to face the criticism from Death himself. "In fact, telling could be a good thing! It cuts down unnecessary details and allows the authors to exert their voice!"

YOU ARE NOT INCORRECT, Death agreed reluctantly. BUT, JUST AS THERE IS LIGHT AND DARK, HAPPINESS AND SADNESS, THERE IS A BALANCE BETWEEN SHOWING AND TELLING. TOO MUCH OF THE FORMER, AND YOU'RE JUST REPORTING. TOO MUCH OF THE LATTER, AND IT IS A DISCOURSE INSTEAD OF PROSE.

"Exactly!" Spike said, snapping his claw and sitting up in his chair. "You wanna show enough to immerse the reader in the scene, yet tell enough to give the work your voice and avoid redundancies and useless details."

QUITE CORRECT. Death cracked his neck, which Spike raised an eyebrow at, but did not question. NOW THEN—another crack—THE STORY? YOU'VE ALREADY USED YOUR EXPOSITION DUMP ON THE PREVIOUS PAGE OF THE REPORT.

"Oh yeah, that’s right." Spike cracked his neck as well; he was prone to peer-pressure. "So, I decided the first pony I should see was Pinkie. Her place was the closest, and I could eat some sweets for breakfast—only, somepony had beaten me to it…”





"Hooves up!"

Spike blinked. He looked down, gazing at the things at the end of his arms. He then looked up to the two unicorns, one brown and the other blue, who had their horns charged and their eyes narrowed.

Spike shrugged with a confused expression.

"A wise guy, eh?" the blue one said.

Spike looked between his legs, noticing the absence of the thing that made a guy a guy, then looked back up at the two unicorns. He shrugged, though his expression was now sad.

Pinkie stood behind the counter, hooves still raised from when the robbers had first demanded she raised them. If she was honest, she first waved them in the air like she didn't care, but when the robbers implied they would take her life, she suddenly cared very much, and stopped shaking her hooves.

She looked at the drake, who inched his head left. She looked left, realized it was the wrong left, then looked right, where a cash register sat on the counter. Spike nodded, and she also nodded, the latter not knowing what it meant but shuffling towards the object anyway.

'Okay, so she caught on,' Spike thought to himself, shivering as the unicorns stepped towards him. 'Just have to distract these bozos long enough for her to whack em over the head. Playing dumb always garners interest, so just play dumb—it's what I do best.'

"We said raise ‘em!" the blue unicorn exclaimed, his horn glowing brown. "Get ‘em up, or not even your scales will protect you from what will come next."

Spike closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and opened his eyes. He knew what he must do.

"Listen fellas, I wanna comply in any way possible." He took a step towards them, and when he saw brown magic grow brighter, he proceeded to stop doing that. "In fact, I even hate this bakery! It takes all my money and makes me fat, so I wanna help in any way possible."

Pinkie glared at him.

"Yeah, like anyone walks in on a robbery and..." the blue unicorn stopped talking, blinking at a new realization, before tilting his head forward to peek between his legs. He very much had the thing that made guys, or, at least he hoped so behind the fat of his tummy that blocked his sight.

"Trust me, guy," Spike began, taking another step. The unicorn looked up, expression half-suspicious and half-concerned. "I've had that fat too, but my ex made me shed it. How I did it in two weeks is chalked up to an excessive and a convenient growth spurt, but if I didn't have my best friend to rely on, I would've robbed this place and gotten back the money I worked hard for."

The blue unicorn chose to say nothing next. Instead, he sat down and contemplated his life choices up to this point.

The brown unicorn laid his hoof on his accomplice's shoulder, shaking them. "Hey, c'mon. We've got a place to rob and a situation on our hooves." He kept shaking, though his hoof was batted away. The brown unicorn frowned, lowering his voice to a whisper. "There's no sense in worrying about your weight now. Once we steal this money, we can get you on a proper diet, alright?"

The blue unicorn was still, his head low.

The brown unicorn sighed and shoved him aside. He turned to the drake, "All right, nice try! You may have put my pal out of commission, but your words are meaningless to me." He tilted his head back, looking down at Spike. "Now put ‘em up!"

Spike glanced left. Pinkie was slowly lifting the cash-register.

"When you say put ‘em up," Spike began, looking back to the brown unicorn, "what part of me are you saying exactly?"

"Your hands, of course!" the unicorn said, waving a hoof. "Or claws or what have you."

"See, that's the part I never got." Spike rose his claws, not enough to surrender, but so he could gaze into his palms. "Are these claws or hands? If it's the former—" he wiggled his five… appendages "are these also claws? Is it claws on claws?"

"Uh... claw claws?" muttered the crook with a visibly pained expression.

"And if it's the latter," Spike continued, "then does that mean I have fingers, talons, or claws?'

"Uh."

"It's stuff like this that keeps me up at night." Spike dropped his claws to his sides—if that's what they were called—and looked at the brown unicorn. "So, with everything on the table, how do you want to proceed?"

The brown unicorn sat still. He blinked, his mouth was agape, and he was oblivious to the mare straining to hold the cash register above his head. Its shadow loomed over him, and the next sounds was not a cry but a chuckle.

"How do I want to proceed?" asked the unicorn with a smirk. "First, I’m going to rob this place.” His horn began to glow with a blue hue. “And second, if you live through this, I want for you to take acting classes." His aura formed around the cash register above his head, causing Pinkie to yelp. The object then propelled forward, knocking the mare into the wall and unconscious.

"You bastard!" Spike yelled, shaking with rage at the situation unfolding before him. "You didn't have to do that!"

"Tell me about it," the unicorn replied, grinning. "A simple spell would have put her to sleep. But I've always had a flair for theatrics, and I'd be a fool not to take advantage of her position."

Spike glared at him.

"Oh, don't give me that look, now." He sneered with an imperious shrug of his withers. "Besides, if it weren't for you, she wouldn't have risked putting herself in danger. We woulda got our bits, and she would be just fine. If you're going to blame me, then you have to blame yourself as well. It's only fair."

Spike thought about this. He hated himself for doing so, but try as he might, he couldn't find anything incorrect in the presented logic. Spike hadn't cared enough about Pinkie to realize the danger he could have put her in, and now she was the one hurt because of him. It was foolish to think he could distract the two rogues long enough for it to matter, yet he didn't think twice before attempting to do so at the expense of her safety.

At least that was one thing they could agree on.

The brown unicorn watched with a predatory grin as the drake curled his claw into a fist. "Seems that thought made you angry. You going to do something about it, or just try to talk me to sleep again?"

Spike felt like crying. Despite his best efforts, his body shook, his claw-hand thing shivering in fear of whatever was to come next. He wished he didn't care again, that he could just be cool and punch this stallion in the face and make things right again. His claw reached for the pocket in his scales, resting there.

"So how about it, dragon?!" the unicorn began walking towards him, each step digging the dagger of despair deeper into the drake's chest. "Never tangled with one of your kind before; hell of a thing to put on a resume."

Spike should have drank the vial. He should have let himself not care for another day and allowed his better self to make everything right again. He would hurt ponies again, say unkind words and do harmful things, but it was worth the price, right?

"Y-you're really going to regret h-hurting Pinkie Pie," Spike said, holding up his claws, balling them into fists. "I-It’s always a b-bad idea to mess with a dragon's f-friends!"

The unicorn stopped walking just a few feet away from the dragon. "Wow! Now, if you had said that without the stutters, then you may have sent a shiver down my spine. Heck, with you sounding so serious, I might have ran away out of fear." He then closed the distance between them with two more steps, leaving the two standing muzzle to muzzle. "But that's your shtick, isn't it? Talk up a big game and hope it scares others away? Talk yourself up, and maybe, just maybe, others will believe it to be true?"

Spike growled, tilted his head, and delivered a punch to the unicorn. The blow landed on the brown cheek and made the head attached jerk to the left, but the unicorn's eyes never broke contact during the movement.

"Is that everything you amount to, twerp?" the unicorn said, pushing against the fist as he turned his head back. He grinned. "Your words have more punch than your fists!" His forehoof flew upward, connecting with the scaly chin and sending Spike into the air.

A moment later, a thud sounded from a foot away as Spike crumpled to the ground.

"Pathetic," the unicorn spat, stepping forward. He towered over the felled drake, who heaved and panted, his claws shaking against the floor, struggling to push himself back up. "Your callous words hurt my partner, so allow me to return the favor." He thrusted himself downward, strangling the drake's throat with his hooves. He took a perverse delight in how Spike’s claws swatted at his forelegs, desperately vying for purchase. "Your words are fairy tales; their magic only works when others believe them." His horn ignited blue, tapping it against the dragon's forehead. "But when others stop believing them, do you know what's left?"

An inky blackness began to well around the corners of Spike's vision. His lungs burned, deprived of the oxygen they so desperately needed. He batted the hooves a few more times before his claws fell to the floor, and darkness enveloped his world.

"Nothing."





SO YOU LOST?

"Well, I mean, of course I did." Spike focused on the top of the table, exhaling deeply at the memory. "I've never fought anypony before—the girls usually do that for me. And to be honest with you, that unicorn was right, my big mouth is usually what gets me out of trouble. You take that away, and what do you have?"

Death kept silent, not being keen on stating the painfully obvious.

"A useless dragon," Spike sighed. "A joke in comparison to the rest of his kind and a failure in prowess in the ponies that surrounds him." He smiled bitter-sweetly. "Nothing much more to it than that, or at least, that's what I thought at the time."





"Bro, are you sure about this?" Spike heard a voice past the numbness inside his head, a darkness obscuring his vision. He began to stir. "The food I can get behind, because, y'know, I can eat it, and you can sell it. But are you sure ponies won't realize we've just stolen all the furniture from here?"

"The plan is ingenious, so stop questioning it!" said another. Spike slowly opened his eyes to blinding sunlight pouring in through the front window. "Nopony can trace stolen foods, and we'll just sell the furniture to buy new furniture!"

Spike shook his head a few times, the world taking a bit longer than usual to come into focus. From what he could tell, they were still in the lobby of the pastry shop; only the floor had been cleared of any chairs or tables.

He only made it a few inches in an attempt to stand, being immediately yanked back by his arms. Looking up see what had stopped his movement, he saw shackles around his raised claws, holding him in place.

Metal handcuffs chained his wrists to a pole in the wall. He yanked his claws forward, groaning under his breath to rip the pole out from the wall, pulling harder and harder, feeling his muscles burn from the strain. He cried quietly, giving it his all.

Spike fell back against the wall, panting. His all wasn't enough.

"C...crud..." Spike looked to his left. The unicorns stood at the other end the shop, stacking tables on tables and chairs on chairs with their magic. They continued to chatter, loud enough to drown out sound of his breathing. He looked back up, seeing the key-slot in his cuffs. "...guess...I don't have...any other choice..."

He stuck his finger into the hole (don't think dirty) and cried out after doing so (stop thinking dirty.) A moment later, a blue aura surrounded the handcuffs, emitting small bolts of electricity. Another moment later, a brown face hovered above the dragon.

"So you're awake," the brown unicorn said, "and dumb enough to try the shackle. Did you not think a unicorn wouldn't cast a protective spell on it." He blinked, stooping his head closer to Spikes face. "Can you even pick a lock?"

"Uh." Spike thought back to a time when Applebloom had locked herself in a room. He went to try the lock, only for Applejack to buck it down. He tried another time. He had locked Twilight and himself in a room. He had tried the lock, but Twilight blasted the door open with her magic. "No. But there's a first time for everything, right?"

"Useless, just as I thought." The unicorn lifted his head. He turned around, trotting back to his partner. "Keep silent, will you, and let us finish our work in peace."

Spike tried for a retort but had none—they'd just be inflated words to make himself feel better about the harsh truth. He wallowed in self-pity, berating himself internally. Then, from the corner of his eye, something stirred to the right of him and he looked at it immediately.

Pinkie sat next to him, chained just the same, eyes fluttering open. She kept quiet at first, looking up at her chained hooves, looking left at chained claws, then afar to the not-chained hooves stealing all of her stuff.

She then looked back to Spike and offered a half-smile. "Well, that didn't work."

He sighed, looking forward. "Tell me about it."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

There was a thud, and there was a cry.

"Silver, this hurts!" a voice said. "Why can't we just take the food and dip?! Look! See? My hoof is purple now!"

"You fool!" A slap of epic proportions was heard. "Say not of our names in fear of being tracked!"

"What? It's not like those two can see us." The voice paused as if to double check. "Even if I said my name was Cookie, it's not like they'll be able to tell which is which."

Another epic slap echoed through the building. Its vibration could be felt by the two prisoners, who shuddered at the sensation.

"You imbecile!" said a voice. "Just because they can not see us does not mean they can not hear us! You've given them our identity—we may need to kill them because of your mistake!"

The prisoners shuddered again, not because of the fear of death, but at losing their lives for a few ham sandwiches.

"I am not an imbecile!" said the other voice. "I just so happen to be very pleasant. And who cares if they know our names? It’s not like they know who is which.”

"Oh, yes." The first voice made a snorting sound—or maybe he just snorted. Not cocaine, just oxygen. "Because that's how the world works! Simply knowing of our names would not be enough to condemn us to prison."

"See? I knew you would see to reason."

Another epic slap. Spike and Pinkie wondered if they would at least get a ham sandwich.

"You fool!" The first voice began again. "If those two give wind to the authorities of our names, then no matter which name belongs to whom, they'll still be able to track us down and arrest us!"

Silence.

"Are you sure that's how that works?" said the second voice.

"How what works?"

"Finding ponies. Do the authorities even have a general register of everypony's files? And if so, is it fair for them to have such power?"

"Now is not the time for the abstract policies of Equestria nor pseudo-philosophy!" said the first voice with a tone of panic. "Resume working before the whip comes out again."

Work resumed for the two.

The two not working, like most crappy coworkers, gossiped about those who were working.

"Cookie and Silver?" Spike said, his voice perking Pinkie’s ears. "I know I shouldn’t be one to talk...but Cookie and Silver? What kind of parents name their foals Cookie and Silver?”

Pinkie softly giggled, gazing forward. "Silly ponies. That's who."

A few awkward moments passed.

"I guess you weren’t expecting your morning to go this crazy, hey, Spike?" Pinkie uttered, the usual excitement that followed her words now gone. She kept gazing forward. "But, then again, with how you came in and handled those meanie-BO-weenies, I swore you were going to order everything off the menu again."

"I wish.” Spike chuckled, but no smile came from it. “This whole mess would be over if I just stopped caring, if I just stopped being so afraid.” He sighed. "I have this potion on me, that if I drink it, I’ll stop caring, just like how I was before. I could have drank it, I should have drank it, all because I was too scared.”

He looked to Pinkie, who returned the gaze. “I cared too much about what the results would be, too scared what would happen to me, and yet, I didn’t show that same care towards you, and you got hurt because of it.”

“It’s not your fault!” Pinkie replied. “You didn’t know that meanie was going to pull a fast one...you were just so caught up in the situation is all! You’re a good dragon, Spikey, you know that.”

"I wish that were true, but I’m not. And I'm sorry, Pinkie," Spike continued. "I shouldn’t be this much of a wimp, I should have cared more about you, at least enough to see how much danger I was putting you in.” He slammed the back of his head against the wall. "Breaking up with Rainbow Dash was a good idea after all. I’d just wind up hurting her by caring too much about myself, again.”

"You and Dashie…” Pinkie shook her head, face scrunching up in thought. “...broke up?”

"We split just a few days ago.” Spike cracked his neck. “Nopony has seen her since, so now I’m trying to find here." He pressed his head back against the wall. “Like I’d have any luck finding her.”

"So that's why she was buying so many cupcakes!" Pinkie said. Were they not bound, she would have clapped her hooves. "She bought so many cupcakes that it put your previous order to shame! And here I thought she was throwing some big party.” She slouched forward. "She refused to tell me why, so I figured I wasn’t invited, which made me very sad.” She then beamed. “Guess Dashie still loves me after all!"

"Wish I could say the same," Spike said, looking forward. "I wasn't expecting a breakup with a dragon like me to hurt her at all, but to start throwing a party in celebration afterward?"

Pinkie narrowed her eyes on him, recoiled an inch, and went to lecture the boy, but was stopped when a shadow washed over her.

"Your talks of self-deprecation is boring us to tears," Silver said, enveloping of their cuffs with his blue magic, setting the bound wrists free. "Assist us in moving the furniture to the back door." The same magic then enveloped around Pinkie, lifting her off the floor as she hovered in the air. "Failure to do so or any attempts to flee..."

The magic around Pinkie began to constrict. She screamed.

"Stop!"

The magic stopped.

The pink mare was set down.

The purple drake was set to the task.





Spike, for whatever reason, enjoyed the work at claw, despite who he was doing it for. The chairs weren't heavy, and the repetition from walking the hall to the back door set his body on autopilot. In his mind, he thought of Rainbow Dash, back at home throwing the party of her life, overjoyed to be finally rid of his presence for good.

It hurt him to know, that while break-up reduced him to darkness and ice cream, Rainbow Dash was free of any such pain, having the time of her life.

'Maybe this is for the best for everyone,' Spike thought, pulling a table down onto its side. He then picked it up with both claw, hoisting it over his head as he stumbled toward the back door. 'That unicorn saw right through me; I only get away with stuff because of my big mouth. Take that away and what do you have? Nothing.” He huffed under the weight, but kept forward all the same. ‘I was crazy to think I could get better—that I could become more than what I am: useless.” He made it to the door. ‘I should just mouth shut and work hard, rather than spout all that nonsense.'

Spike set the table down, leaning it against the wall, feeling of accomplishment washing over him as he stood back up. He was strangely happy with himself, of working and being helpful, even if it was for robbers and he was stealing from his friend.

Lifting was not something he could talk up or lie about; it was a thing proven only by doing. If he kept silent for the rest of his life and did more work, then maybe ponies would like him more—maybe wouldn't be such an absurd dragon that everyone found to be weird.

Spike returned the lobby, getting into the groove of the work. He liked this; he enjoyed himself at the moment. Who needed Rainbow Dash to mentor him? Or a friend to get him over fears that were probably true about him anyway. The unicorn was right, he really was useless, but if he worked hard enough, then maybe he would no longer be.

'From this moment on,' Spike thought, picking up two chairs instead of one, 'I'll keep silent and only work!'

"Just what in the hay is going on in here?!"

All movement ceased inside the lobby. Everypony looked at the front door of the shop. A fat, white unicorn stood in the doorway. Cookie and Silver were scared, not because the unicorn was fat, but because he wore a badge on his vest.

Someone had forgotten to lock the front door.

"We are...uh." Cookie did not continue speaking. He looked on with concern to Silver.

"You see, officer," Silver began, feeling the spotlight on him. He rubbed his neck. "We are simply...as you can see...the floors were quite dirty and..."

Silver stopped talking. He looked to Spike, who put down the chairs at the gaze.

Spike raised his claws, not knowing what should say or do, but when Silver nudged his head in the direction of Pinkie Pie, he required no further hints. He looked around, seeing that the lobby was now clear, that all the food was set on tables, and finally, his mind came to a conclusion any sane creature would have in the situation.

"We're hosting a stand-up show!"





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> IV – Of Stand-Ups & Put-Downs
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


~ IV ~

Of Stand-Ups & Put-Downs


"You going to tell a joke or what?"

Spike shook his head, blinking for good effect. "What?"

"You're doing stand up, right?" The cop sat in the space of the lobby, a doughnut suspended before his muzzle in an aquamarine aurora, because stereotypes and cliches are allowed to be synonymous. "Usually the comedian tells jokes in these cases. They're the only cases I like working."

"Right. So that's how this works." Spike went to tell a joke, realized that he had none, then raised his index claw/finger/talon. "One second." He blinked and smiled. "Feel free to help yourself to a second donut."

Spike left the pretend stage.

"Hey, we got a bit of an issue,” Spike began as he approached the leftmost wall, earning the gazes of the three ponies close to it. He kept his voice at a whisper. “I have absolutely no jokes to tell, and even if I did, I’m horribly unfunny, so we would be screwed either way.”

"I swear I’ve just about had it with you!" Silver spat at him. No, seriously, he spat at the drake as he spoke. "Suggesting to the cop we’re hosting a stand-up of all things?! This whole mess is your fault for not suggesting something more likely, or at the very least, believable.”

"Right," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "So, you’ve had some time to think about it, right? What scenario would you have suggested to cover up daylight robbery?”

Silver opened his mouth but did not speak, the question repeating in his head, and only a moment afterward did he pick up on the sarcasm. “Silent with you!”

"Either way," began Cookie as he stepped between the two, glancing at both of their faces, “if the dragon doesn’t go on, then the jig is up! All you said was that you were putting on a show, but that doesn’t mean it has to be good show.”

"Do I have too?” Spike asked with a heavy sigh. “I'm already cringy enough, and getting laughed at on stage is a recurring nightmare of mine."

"Don't care,” said Silver, “get up."

"Seriously, I can’t do it guys!" Spike rose his claws in surrender as he stepped back. "Ponies will laugh at how stupid I am. I-I can already see them whispering! ‘That’s a dragon? But he’s so tiny!’ Or they will say: ‘Look at the belly on him! Is even trying to shed the last of his baby fat?’ Or how about: ‘Is he trying to be funny? This dragon is a loser. Someone get him off stage!’”

"I’m sure the world already thinks you're an idiot," Silver said, stepping forward and placing his hooves on the drake’s shoulders, turning him around and shoving him a few feet back onto the stage. “So hurry up and prove to the world that you are indeed a fool! You can wallow in self-pity all you wish afterward.”

Spike stumbled back onto the stage, earning the attention of the cop once again. Of course, in his hoof was another donut, because running gags were easy to maintain, unlike the cop’s new-year resolution to jog every morning.

There was no winning the situation. At the right of the room, two unicorns at their horns pointed at Pinkie, and if Spike did not make a fool of himself, then she would be hurt on his behalf. In front of him, there was a cop looking for a laugh, and if he made a fool of himself, then the cop would be laughing at him—something the drake has recurring nightmares about.

With a great sigh and reluctance, Spike began to speak.

"So birds, am I right?"

Thus began the comedic career of Spike the Dragon.





"They just fly, not paying anypony any mind!" Spike nervously laughed, remembering an old comic making the joke before.  "Like, c'mon! I'm walking here!" There was no laughter except the chuckles Spike had at himself. His emulation of someone better, the one card up his non-existent sleeve, was a failure indeed.

'This isn’t working. This isn’t working!’ Spike thought to himself, wiping the sweat from his neck. ‘There must be someone who’s funny that I can steal from. Someone with great lines, a great personality I can piggy-back off.’

Spike said the first thing that came to mind.

"Books are pain, aren’t they? Especially when they’re littered all over the floor."

Spike would have slapped himself for his stupidity were it not for fear of scaring away his present audience. He then realized what he found funny about other ponies was not material in of itself.

The cop shifted in his spot, body twitching at just how uncomfortable the atmosphere was. He went to rise, doing so slowly to grant the time needed to formulate a reason to leave, one which would not too badly hurt the feelings of those present.

'I have to stop him! C’mon, there’s gotta be something I can do to keep him here while keeping Pinkie safe.’ Spike clenched his fists and closed his eyes, slowing the rhythm of his breaths. 'Trying to emulate popular ponies won’t get me anywhere, neither will saying whatever comes to my mind. Yet, for whatever reason, I’m terrified of this stranger thinking that I’m an idiot, that I want to do everything in my power to prove otherwise!’

He shook his head and opened his eyes. The cop now stood.

'What is wrong with you!' Spike thought to himself, opening his eyes to a blurry looby. 'Your friend is getting robbed, but you care more about what strangers think of you? And for what? To keep silent so no one thinks your silly? Tell me, Spike, do you even care what this cop thinks of you?’

His vision of the lobby cleared, the first detail to do so was the cop opening his mouth.

'This is a pony you'll never meet again, someone who will take one look at you and then never think of you again. You're sacrificing the quality of your life for one bad moment with a stranger?' Spike opened his mouth, exhaling through it. ‘Now if it were Rainbow Dash, then you would be more worried. Why? Because you actually cared about her, but for whatever reason, you cared more about what she thought about you, and you broke up with her because of it! Even when you were an absolute clown, do you remember what she said?’

"Listen, this has been great and all, and I really do hope your show goes—"

"Do you know weird it is as a dragon living in pony society?" Spike said out of nowhere, surprising both himself and the cop he’d interrupted. The latter closed his mouth, expression confused. "Isn’t it strange that weird comes to mind instead of scary? That having a dragon, claws and everything, is an average sight for this town? How crazy is that!?”

The cop kept still. One of his eyebrows were raised.

"You’d expect that dragon to be scorned, or at the very least, treated differently, right?” Spike began to pace back and forth on the stage. "Ponies shunning you from shops because of your scales, not trusting you with kids because of your fangs. I expected to be treated horribly by ponies, if not differently."

The cop tilted his head.

"But you ponies took it on the chin! Not once have I been purposefully discriminated because of my scales." Spike chuckled into his imagery mic, glancing downward. "Do you know how ballsy that is? To grown accustomed to having a dragon in your midst?"

The cop did not answer, though his ears stood.

"If we had one your foreign ponies come aboard, we'd be hearing a totally different story. That guy would spot me in a crowd." Spike cleared his throat, then gave a more high-pitched voice. "AAAAH! There is a dragon in our midst! Everypony get down!"

Spike chuckled, then hopped to the left. He talked in a deeper voice. "Easy Pancakes. He's just a dragon."

Spike hopped right and spoke light. "Just a dragon? Guy, that motherfucker spews fire! I've seen too many remains of burnt villages to know we should evacuate."

Spike hopped left and spoke in a voice that's deep and somehow rhythms with left. "Chill before he hears you. The boy is a bit sensitive, you know?"

"Sensitive?" Spike said highly, not of himself but in his voice. "He's a dragon! His scales are thicker than rocks!"

"See, that's usually the case, but our boy is a bit...emotional," he said lowly, both of himself and in his voice. "And he does breathe fire. But don't be alarm! It's only to send letters to a Princess."

"What?"

"Yup."

"How does burning letter send it to a Princess. Wait, you mean Princess Celestia herself?!"

"Mmmhmm. He's got some magical fire."

"I'm...not sure what to think."

"Trust me; it gets stranger." Spike chuckled, seeing a few ponies standing by the doors of the lobby. He had no clue when they amassed. "Some regard him as the son of the Princess, though those rumors are unconfirmed! What is true is that he's the best and life-long friend of the Princess of Magic."

"Who...who is this dragon?"

Spike jumped forward, interrupting his own narrative. "Me boy-oh!" He laughed. "I'll just rob that pony then and there while they'll be still afraid, or just relish in the validation of ponies considering me as scary as the rest of my kind."





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"Never thought I'd see a dragon do stand up," One pony said to another, behind a row of sitting ponies. "It's a once in a lifetime experience, y'know? They should have advertised that better, if at all. Not only that, but free food!" He took a chunk of his muffin.

Cookie and Silver were not happy about the happy, muffin eating ponies. They watched the show in dismay.

"Not only that, but what kind of name is Spike the Dragon?" Spike sat on a stool, having pulled one up during his last joke. "Dragons are terrifying! Their names alone are meant to spook you!" Spike chuckled. "Knowing Twilight, she probably took that proclamation literally and made my name spooky, and along the way, somepony just messed up with a typo."

The audience laughed. This made Spike feel better for three reasons. One, these were the thoughts he thought he would have to pay a therapist to hear. Second, these ponies were laughing with him at things that cause him angst late at night. Three, it showed that being honest about his idiotic wasn't such a big deal—something that he shouldn't have cared so much about.

"Tell me," Spike held the imaginary mic to a pegasus sitting in the front row, "and be honest: does Spike the Dragon strike fear into your heart? Even if you didn't know me, would it evoke the image of a ferocious dragon?"

The pegasus laughed nervously, finding it hard to speak.

"Don't sweat all the strange glances—I get 'em all the time.' Spike held his claw closer. "Just be honest with what you feel. I promise I won't laugh."

The pegasus chuckled. "I-I think of an a-action figure, to be honest."

Spike laughed. The pegasus gulped.

"Don't worry, I ain't laughing at you," he stepped back into his stage. "In fact, I'm laughing at myself more than anything. I also like you gave me the leeway of being an action figure, something strong and cool, and, if we're being honest: I am neither of those two things."

Spike laughed.

The audience laughed.

More importantly, Pinkie laughed.

"If we are truly honest about how I'm viewed among your ponies, the image of a doll is what comes up the most." Spike's shoulders shook and he stepped back. "I am as fragile and pretty as one. Not only that, but a walking doll would probably get less strange looks and questions that I do!"

Spike looked over to Pinkie. He was glad that she was enjoying the show, even more so when Cooke was as well. Cookie’s gaze lingered on him, cheering and chuckle when promoted, and Silver was too busy staring at the stolen food being stolen from them and the cop that had yet to leave. There was three of them now and zero donuts—but the latter was due to the larger quantity of guests that stereotypes this time around.

"I always get chastised whenever I enter the post office, and to be square with you, I do not like the post office." Spike threw up his claws. "I would rather unicorns let me make a magical bond with their horns, something, which, I swear is not sexual! So that I can burn some stuff and send it their way."

There were only a few chuckles.

"Oh c'mon, if could breathe fire like I do you would be the same," Spike said. "My ideal afternoon is burning some letters and reading comic books in the sun, not waiting in long lines so some pony can give me attitude."

That got a few more laughs.

"Don't get me wrong; I don't go in there to start trouble!" Spike said, standing in place, looking around at nothing. "I don't make a note of my power nor the fact that I am a dragon, even that I'm the Princess assistant! I pull none of those cards; I wait in line like everypony else."

There was clapping. Spike was glad it wasn't just Pinkie trying to save him from a bad joke.

"But, of course, like everything in my life, nothing is my fault!" Spike laughed harder at that one than he should, feeling the lie prick his heart. "I make it to the counter, like can I get my package. Every single time, they think I'm talking dirty, make a huff, and throw some papers down on the counter."

More ponies filled in, reaching the point that some had to watch the show from outside.

"Naturally, as a dragon among ponies, things are going to be weird when it comes to bureaucracy. Just the way how it is." He made a note to speak louder. "Does the 'pony' consent to having pick up this package? I'm not going to argue for that to be changed, because the meaning is still the same. I don't make trouble over that."

Spike looked at Pinkie and inched his head right. She blinked, recoiling her head until she saw her captors settled on other things. She pressed her back against the wall, slowly sliding along, her action going unnoticed.

"What I have an issue is trying to describe myself on the forum." Spike held an invisible sheet and began writing. "Male or female? A male, I hope. Earth pony, pegasus, or unicorn? How about other?" He looked up and made an angry voice.

"I knew you were going to give us trouble!" He imitated the clerk. "Thinking just because you're different that everything should be tailored to you! Quit holding up the line!"

He chuckled. "Alright, buddy. If that's the case, what should I write down?"

Pinkie slid from the wall and into the audience, keeping low in-between the rows. No one had seen her escape.

"That goes down for a bit, and then I'm allowed to use other." Spike stepped forward. "Be real now; if I were a doll, the clerk would've called me sweet and completed my forum for me. 'Spike the Dragon? My my, you are a dragon aren't you?"

Spike stepped back. "But when I do it?" He changed his voice. "Who do you think you are, thinking your middle names deserves to be The? You aren't anything special, get over yourself."

Meanwhile, Pinkie tugged on the collar of a cop. He looked down, scared to see a mare between his legs, but was happy to see her lips coming to his ear instead. "See those two ponies off by the wall. They're actually super mean robbers, and we had to host this show so you wouldn't catch on. If it isn't too much work, do you think you could arrest them?"

The cop raised an eyebrow. He looked then at Spike, and tilted his head left.

Spike gulped. "Heck, the clerk looked like I was about to rob the place."

That settled that. The cops all rose, the powder of donuts sliding down their outfits (I lied, it was totally the cops that ate the donuts), and went over to Cookie and Silver. They didn't say anything, just pulled out their batons and whacked them over the heads. The two fell, had a ring placed on their horns, and cuffs around their hooves.

"What is going on here!" shouted a voiced from the crowd. Pinkie had made it to the stage, and both she and Spike looked to the two ponies cutting through the crowd.

It was Mr and Ms. Cake.

"Daytime robbery, cakes!" Pinkie said with glee. "We put on a stand-up show to cover the crime though."

The Cakes thought about this, then remembered this was Pinkie, and ceased trying to pull reason from the illogical. All they saw was a bunch of ponies, some having food and some not, and did what entrepreneurs do best.

Sell stuff.

"Alright everypony, that's enough for me." Spike exhaled heavily, happy the show was now over. "It's been a blast being your host, I trust I did not ramble for too long, and I hope you buy your lunch here to help the ponies that let us host this show. Everything on this menu is good, trust me—" he padded what was left of his fat "—you do not get as big I once was by not trying it all. Good afternoon!"

He and Pinkie did a bow, received a few claps and cheers, and then promptly walked off stage—through the kitchen and outside. The room had gotten warm and stuffy, so the cool wind was a welcome respite, and they both fell to their rumps and rested their backs against the wall.

"That," Spike began, "was the craziest and stupidest thing I've ever done." He looked over to Pinkie, placing his claw on her hoof. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything sooner. How's your head?"

Pinkie smiled. "Better now. I laughed so much that I kinda forgot about it."

"Really?" Spike said, excitement catching in his voice. "You enjoyed it?"

"Of course I did, silly!" She lifted her other hoof and rubbed it against his scalp. "I wouldn't laugh if I didn't enjoy it. I had no clue those were the type of thoughts running through your head.” She retracted her hoof only to throw both of them in the air. "You should have shared them sooner!"

“Huh,” Spike chuckled, looking downward. "I always thought...I dunno, that you girls would find that kind of stuff boring, or think I’m just plain weird.”

Pinkie tilted her head. "What wrong with being weird?"

Spike opened his mouth to speak, to bash himself for the weirdness and absurdity of his life, but when he looked upon Pinkie, any words of the such failed him. Why did he hate himself for having these weird thoughts? For not being normal like everypony else?

"Nothing." Spike began to laugh at the realization, looking deep into her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with being weird! Even if some ponies don’t like it, they don’t compare to the ones that do.” He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. “Deep down, we should be honest with who we are, even if…”

'Most ponies would become pricks or perverts if they stopped caring,' the words of Rainbow echoed in his head. 'Not caring doesn't make you anything more, it just reveals who you really are. And that's the you I like the most.'

"...that someone is weird!" Spike continued the thought at last, more so for himself than Pinkie. "And who knows? Maybe underneath it all, some ponies are just as weird as you are, and that lets you connect better with them, y’know?”

Pinkie kept silent, merely listening and enjoying the breeze. Both laid their heads against the wall.

"Rainbow was right,” Spike said after a moment, her name a heavy weight on his tongue. “At least, the part about accepting yourself.” He sighed, placing a claw over his heart. “Just glad we're having as much fun as she is."

"Fun?" Pinke repeated the with surprise, looking over at him. "Rainbow Dash?"

Spike turned his head as well. "Well...yeah? You told me she bought enough sweets to host a party!"

Pinkie face-hoofed. It hurt less than the cash register. "Oh, you silly little boy...of course she’s not throwing a party!”

"She’s...not?"

"No!" Pinkie threw up her hooves. "She came crying to me right after your break-up! She pulled me from the bed, forced me to make chocolate milkshakes at midnight, and made me listen to her as she ate enough food to feed a party. She was devastated!"

Spike let the words echo in his mind. Once again, there was another mare he hurt, one that he had hurt, only because he cared too much this time around. In his head, he wished the other scenario was the case, which his choice didn't hurt her and she was throwing a party in celebration. But deep inside his heart, he was sad to admit, a part of him was happy that she was suffering the same pain as he.

But, no matter the sensation, he had made the right choice in making her life better.

Or, at least, that would be the case were it not that Rainbow was missing because of him, and that her dream-job would expire in less than ten hours.

Spike went to speak, but felt hooves press against his throat, and raise his body up against the wall.

"SURPRISE!."





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"..." Pause. "Oh yeah, that's right."

...





"Surprise!," said an earth pony, pressing harder on the scaly throat. "Thought that Nato wouldn't find ya out? We're a trio, baby!"

Spike tried made a joke only to croak. He'd forgotten, like everyone else, he still needed to breathe. Not just that, but if his first instinct was to breathe fire than to quip, then he could have made it out of this.

Pinkie rose, turning on her hind legs.

"Try it, missy." Nato pressed his forehooves harder, making Spike cry in a strained in a choke, "and your pal is dead."

Pinkie kept still. She did not like it when her friends were dead.

"So how about it, where're my brothers?" Nato asked, releasing some of the pressure on Spike.

This allowed Spike to breathe, and it also gave him a few options. He could prove Silver wrong and be a drake of action, knocking this pony out and saving the day of his own volition. He clenched his claw, ready to risk a punch, but something a thought stopped him.

'You're full of shit,' Silver words echoed in his head. 'Always have and always will be. No matter what you say, no matter what you think or try, deep down inside, you'll always be full of shit. It's why those girls of yours, why I will always be better than you.'

And, if Spike was honest with himself—something he now learned to do—then Silver was right. He was full of shit, and his every word was bullshit. It was just a fact of life, and like it or not, that's the way Spike would always be.

But being full of shit doesn't have to be a bad thing.

"They're i-inside!" Spike gasped out. "W-We've been moving furniture f-for most of the day. We held an auction for most of the day, w-we're just taking our lunch breaks before going inside." More pressure was pressed against his throat, but Spike did not cease in his lie. "H-honest!"

Nato glared at Pinkie. She nodded.

Nato closed an eye and thought. He kept choking Spike out of habit, but after a few moments, and let him fall to the floor. "Good work, then. Better see my buddies and see if they need a hoof." He looked at the door. "You said they were inside?"

Spike nodded, using a claw to open the door, and another the rub at his throat. The moment Nato stepped inside, both Pinkie and Spike shouted from the doorway. "This one as well!"

They slammed the door before Nato could turn around. A moment later, the sounds of a pony being tackled to the ground were heard, and all was good in Ponyville once again.

Spike dusted off his claws, sighed, then looked to Pinkie. "So Rainbow Dash, she's as heartbroken as I am?"

Pinkie nodded. "Pretty sure. Why?"

Spike cracked his neck, turning to the street past the alley they were in. "I really didn't feel like leaving the library for another week, longer to even think about seeing Rainbow Dash again. I thought if she was taking this better than I was, then she wouldn't need my help." He stretched out his back. "But if she's actually hurt, then I can't just go back and hide away in my room after this."

He turned around, facing Pinkie. "I'm going to take the lead on the investigation. Can you tell me what happened with Dash afterward?"

“We spent the night talking about you, mostly,” Pinkie said with a giggle. “From how you were a dummy but you were her dummy. That if you stopped thinking so much, you would act more. Rainbow’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on, so we sorta talked about her feelings to the rest of the night.”

Pinkie stepped forward, glaring into the drake’s eyes. “You really did hurt Dashie, Spike.”

Spike studied her expression for a moment, letting his head dip in shame. “I know.”

“I don’t like it when my friends get hurt,” Pinkie said, lifting his chin with her hoof. “I do mean things to those hurtful ponies, even dragons if I have to.”

“Then do what you gotta do, Pinkie,” Spike said, never breaking eye-contact with her stern gaze. “When I broke up with Rainbow, I truly thought it would be the best for both of us. I really didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

“I know.” Pinkie’s gaze softened, and she threw her forehooves over his shoulder, hugging the drake. “It’s the only reason why I’m not kicking your scaly butt.” She squeezed him before pulling back. “But you owe her an apology, okay? Even if you were right and she was wrong, you need to say sorry to her, alright?”

“And if I do so, you’ll tell me where she went?”

Pinkie nodded.

“Then it’s a deal.” Spike closed the gap between them, embracing all the comfort he could steal from the pink mare. “Rainbow was right about me, that I can be who I am deep down inside. I’m not sure just how much she was right about, but she was on to something.” He sighed, pressing his face into her mane. “And I shouldn’t have put my insecurity before her faith. I plant to rectify that, one way or another.”

Pinkie giggled, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s all I need to hear.”

The hug ended a few moments later.

“Rainbow left early in the morning, something about having to cancel an order with Rarity.” Pinke turned to the streets. “Your best bet is to check there. She didn’t get any sleep with me, so maybe she crashed the day there.”

Spike groaned.

"Something wrong with that?"

"Kinda." Spike took a step toward the streets. "Rarity and I, uh, haven't been on the best terms since I got together with Rainbow. Now that she knows we're broken up for sure, there's no telling what's waiting for me when I go to the boutique."

"Are you not going to go, then?"

"No choice. Gotta find Rainbow.”

Spike turned around to smile at Pinkie, bowing. “This morning has been great fun, Pinkie.”

“Right back at you,” Pinkie returned with a bow of her own. “Take care of yourself, okay? Hopefully things work out well between you and Rainbow.”

And just like that, Spike continued his day of kinda caring, entering the streets of streaming ponies.

"Best of luck to you Spike, and here's hoping you get together." Pinkie giggled to herself, waving to him from the alley. "Oh, regardless if it works out or not, come back soon to do stand up again. We can even do tag-team!"

Spike waved back a claw and continued the search for his formal crush.


The streets were filled with the afternoon crowd.

> V – Of Defending Exes & Town-Wide Hysteria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


 ~ V ~

Of Defending Exes & Town-Wide Hysteria


ALRIGHT, SO LET'S SEE HERE.

The absence of light made it hard to see in Death’s domain, but this wasn’t really wasn’t an issue to most guests—they either tended to be dead, and thus had trouble seeing anyways, or they were a dragon, for which their reptilian vision picked up the slack.

STOPS CARING ONE DAY... DOES EVERYTHING HE EVER WANTED TOO... HURTS THOSE CLOSE TO HIM BECAUSE OF IT... SWEARS ON HIS LIFE TO NEVER DO IT AGAIN...

Spike cringed at the ellipsis abuse.

FALLS IN LOVE... DOESN'T THINK HIMSELF WORTHY OF THAT LOVE... BREAKS UP... LOVE GOES MISSING... GOES TO A BAKERY... STOPS A STICK UP WITH A STAND-UP... GOES TO PREVIOUS LOVE OF HIS LIFE TO FIND THE CURRENT LOVE OF HIS LIFE... WHOM HE BROKE UP WITH...

Death pulled the quill from the papers on the desk. He picked the sheets up, shuffled them into place, then placed them aside.

"Do we, uh, have to start the next report this way?”

Death looked up. HOW DO YOU MEAN?

"Don’t you think it’s a bit much to restate everything that’s happened?" Spike asked in a tone of uncertainty, studying the expression of Death—a wasted effort, as it never changed, but it made the drake feel better anyway. He and Death were starting to get along, if that’s what the short-term for ‘no longer fearing for your life’ was, but even still, the drake felt uncomfortable in giving him criticisms. "I know your bosses are probably not a cheery bunch, but if they’ve already read the previous report, don’t you think they’ll get annoyed by having all the events stated again at the start of next report?”

Death remained silent.

"That’s what redundant means, right?” Spike asked, slowly curling into himself. “And we should avoid being redundant for the sake of brevity, right? Because that’s always what T-Twilight says.”

Death remained silent.

"If you're going to criticized me for my t-tendency to tell, then isn’t f-fair I d-do the same, when my criticism is just as v-valid?”

Death remained silent.

Then, after a moment, the reaper took the page he’d been writing, crunched it into a ball, and tossed it into the infinite recesses of his robe.

THOSE CROOKS SHOULD HAVE BROKEN YOUR JAW FOR THE BENEFIT OF EVERYBODY. Death pulled out a drawer from his desk and pulled out a stack of papers, closing the drawer and laying the papers on the desk. He hunched over them; a quill pinched in his fingertips. HOWEVER, IT WOULD BE TO YOUR BENEFIT TO REMEMBER THAT FEW THINGS IN LIFE ARE FAIR.

Spike sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and playfully rolling his eyes. "Tell me about it."

NO, said Death. YOU WILL BE TELLING ME ABOUT YOUR DATE WITH RARITY.

Spike sighed, letting his head drop forward. "You just had to use the word date, didn't you?"

Death chuckled. YES.





"It's just a door, you've knocked on tons of these before."

Spike raised his claw to the door.

"Of course, it's the door to your former crush." The claw did not knock as its owner found more comfort in talking to himself. "Y'know, the one that rejected you then fell in love with you afterward, the same one you rejected while sleeping standing up."

For the next five minutes, there was no knocking or talking.

Spike dropped the claw. "Eh, she's probably not here anyway."

He turned and walked away, intent for the safety of his own.

'Rainbow is probably in there eating ice-cream with Rarity,' he thought to himself, his steps becoming slower. 'They'd just get mad if I intruded. I'll just go home, tell Twilight where Rainbow is, then just whole away in the basement for the rest of my life.'

Spike nodded his head. 'Sounds good to me.'

He meant to take another step; the only needed to enter the swarm of the town's street, and yet, his body did not move. It made sense. He should leave. Rainbow would be there, and his existence would just be a problem to everyone. Everything would be okay if he just took himself out of the picture.

Spike knew what the right thing was to do, so of course, he did the complete opposite. He turned back around and went back to the door, his heart hammering against his chest. Every step made him feel light, he dug his claw into his scaly pocket and pulled out the vial.

'I...I don't have to drink all of it.' Trembling, his right claw plucked off the cap to the vial. 'Just a bit for courage. I can deal with both Rarity and Rainbow  and not have to worry about them once the effect is over.'

The vial pressed against his lips.

'Doing this doesn't make you anything more, just reveals who you really are.' He tilted his head back. 'Needing a little help to get there doesn't make you a coward, just makes life easier. Everything you do in that state is things you would do otherwise if you didn't care enough.'

Spike closed his eyes, tilted the vial up, and awaited the taste of the liquid. It probably would have tasted bitter, but Spike would never know, had he not paid more attention to himself than the world around him—feeling his face smash right into a door he walked into.

"Yes yes!" a voice said from the other side. "I'm coming I'm coming. Please stop throwing yourself at my door."

Spike refrained from throwing himself at her door. He stumbled back, shaking his head, the world loading again, the first item to do so being the vial tube in the air. He didn't have time to think or feel, acting first as he thrust out his claw, grabbing the of the vial just as the door opened behind it.

"Welcome to the Carousel Boutique!" Rarity greeted with her eyes closed, letting the drake cork the cap back into the vial. "How may I help you on this fine...oh, it's you." Her eyes were no longer closed.

Spike chuckled nervously. "Hey, uh, Rarity. How's uh, how's today going for you?"

"Fair." She peered at him. Despite them being on eye-level, it still felt like to Spike she was looking down at him. "Do you require something of me?"

"Uh." Spike exhaled, blinking. "Not of you exactly." He gulped. "Is Rainbow around?"

Rarity gazed at him, not saying or doing something, the breeze and distant hoofsteps the only sounds being heard. Spike shifted in place, unable to keep eye contact with the mare, pretending to look at nearby objects. He could still feel her gaze; it pierced him to its very core.

"Rainbow and I haven't been on the greatest of terms," Rarity then said, causing the drake to look back. "Your relationship and callousness saw to that. So why would she be here?"

"Pinkie said she stopped by here," Spike said. "Would have been late last night."

"Suppose I do remember finding her at my door last night," she giggled haughtily. "Just after yours and my walk together." She placed a hoof against her chin. "Strange how Pinkie is keeping better track of your marefriend than you are."

"About that." At that moment, Spike realized he messed up by not drinking the vial. "Rainbow and I are, uh, not um, marefriend and drakefriend anymore. We kinda broke up late night, so yeah, you were right."

Spike had expected another haughtily giggle, a more narrowed gaze or a grin, a 'told-you-so' or anything befitting the victory, and yet, Rarity remained ever quiet. She tilted her head, her hoof moving up to her lips and sliding across. "My my, you must be positivity devastated!"

Her tone wasn't sarcastic, and this worried Spike. "Well, I mean, a little." He looked down. "Locked myself in a basement and ate ice cream for a few days, but everyone else is like that, no?"

"Don't be so foolish as to think that every heartbreak is the same!" Rarity rested her forehooves on his shoulders, bringing her muzzle closer to his. "You mustn't act strong when you're breaking apart inside! Repressed feelings only boil, I should know."

Rarity let him go and stepped aside.

"Quickly, come inside!"

Spike didn't want to. It didn't seem like Rainbow was still here, and Rarity's odd behavior set him on edge. But she was right about his heartbreak, and maybe, just maybe, he could get some of this pain off his chest.

Seeing as he didn't have much of a choice, he stepped inside the boutique.

Rarity stuck her head outside, seeing a figure standing in the alley across the street. She nodded her head and the figure disappeared. Then, with a smile that stretched across her lips, she closed the door to the outside world.





…

"..."

THAT GIRL WAS PLANNING SOMETHING.

"..."

Spike shrugged.





"Please, please! I insist, sit back on the couch and put up your feet."

Spike did so, but he did so cautiously.

"Relax darling. I bear no ill will towards you." Rarity walked past the couch on her way to the kitchen, glancing back at him. "Despite our past, you are still my friend, albeit one needing a listening ear. Let me get us some drinks before we begin."

Rarity left.

Spike didn't know what to do. No one was in the room, so he didn't feel so bad about shifting in place, but he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at or doing. His comic heroes always sat back with their feet up, hooves supporting the back of their heads as they kept perfectly still.

Spike was not such a hero.

"Tea or coffee?" came a voice from the kitchen.

"Coffee," Spike said, hoping his tone didn't sound too nervous. "Black."

"Plain and simple," the voice said, becoming more distant. "I like it."

Ten minutes passed.

"I can't imagine the heartbreak!" Rarity said, sitting in the chair opposing the couch. A table sat between the duo, two steaming cups atop it. "The end of my first love had me devastated and locked away; I wouldn't see Sweetie or my parents for weeks on end. How you're here, now, looking for the very mare that broke your heart!" Her horn glowed blue, the same aurora forming around her cup of tea. "This truly speaks of the depth of your character!"

"I..." Spike leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the cup. He saw a conflicted face, one that was becoming more unrecognizable by the hour. "Guess you're right. Most ponies would have just locked themselves away for longer, right?"

"I do believe that is the case with most ponies," she giggled into her drink, taking a sip. "Then again, you're not like most ponies. You're a gentledrake, and that is not an easy title to win from a lady such as myself."

Spike picked up his cup, the heat lost on the scales of his palm. "You have to be a dragon and nice, right?"

"Mmhmm." She placed the cup back down, looking back the drake. She smiled, batting her lashes. "Now now, whatever happened between you and Dash! Such a sweet dragon-like yourself should not be made to suffer anymore, and I'm hoping to assuage your fears and your doubts."

"I...I'm not sure about that, Rarity." He held his cup before the lips. "Probably best if I hashed this out with Rainbow directly. Talking behind her back won't make anything better."

"Certainly a respectable attitude to hold, but are you sure it's for the best?" This caused the drake to halt from taking a sip, looking up from the rim of the cup. "You and Rainbow are still upset and unsure about yourselves. Are you sure you should confront her with your feelings unprocessed? That you won’t say something you’ll later come to regret?”

Spike sipped on his coffee to buy himself some time; it was as bitter as his thoughts.

'She's...right,' Spike thought to himself, not knowing what he was supposed to be feeling. 'I need to find Rainbow so she can read that letter, but besides that, what do I feel about her?' Rage. Sadness. Fear. Disgust. They all coursed through the drake at the very thought of her name. 'I made the right call; there's no denying that. But why do I hate myself so much for it—why do I hate Rainbow as well?'

Another voice spoke, deep from his subconscious mind: one that made him shiver and irritated every time he heard it.

'Why wouldn't you hate Rainbow? She's everything you want to be,' the voice said inside his mind. 'She's cool where your dorky, confident where you're insecure, a success where you're a...number oneassistant.'

Spike closed his eyes, suppressing the voice.

'Don't fight me. You know I'm right.' The voice even laughed for effect. 'I'm the dragon within you, and by nature, dragons are competitive. To fight against your feelings of jealousy and the rage behind them is to fight against your very nature.'

Spike opened his eyes, seeing something other than his face in the reflection in his cup.

'Deep down, you wanted her to be the onelooking up to you, not the other way around.' The voice let the words sink in. 'You want that to be the case with most ponies, and yet, you shy away from your nature. Letting me take the reigns doesn't have to turn you into a beast, just the dragon you so desperately want to see yourself as.'

"So, how about it dear?"

Spike looked up.

'Stop repressing yourself, Spike. Let us in.'

"You shouldn't feel so shameful about opening up." Rarity tittered, glancing downward with a smirk. "Rainbow didn't give you any thought before she opened her mouth to me. I won't use anything you say against you...or her."

Spike sipped on his coffee, made a decision, and placed the cup on the table. With a sigh, he sat back. "I'm trusting you here, Rarity."

"A lady always knows when to hold back her gossip."

It still didn't feel right to Spike. Something about the whole situation made him uneasy, but then again, the day had already gotten to him from the robbery. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, then spoke. "For...a while now, I knew things weren't working going to work between Rainbow and me."

"I saw the same thing from the very start." Spike flinched, and Rarity giggled nervously. "But such knowledge must have been tearing you apart from the inside-out! Please, recount the horrible experience!"

Spike hated how she made him out to be the victim, but hated himself more for enjoying the influx of pity. "Guess it has been kinda rough."

The words felt hollow and fake, but it made the other mare pull up closer in her chair. Something felt so wrong about appearing as the victim, and as if to answer his angst, a memory of his break up appeared. When they had broken up, it was Rainbow who cried and flew away, and him who walked home with slumped shoulders.

"It's just that, we're so different, y'know?" Spike began. "She was just this awesome mare, and I was this lousy dragon. There's more to me then I knew, she saw that for sure, but I could never be the same dragon she fell in love with. I could never be him again."

"Hate to agree with you there," Rarity said, close enough to rest her forehooves on the table. " At the end of the day, you will always be our Spikey-Wikey, and to expect anything more out of you is to defy your very character." She then spoke in a whisper. "Not like she was worthy of you from the beginning."

Spike flinched, feeling his claw clench. He didn't comment. "And...I don't know why, but I also kinda hate her for it, y'know. Giving me the impression that we could actually be together, that I could actually be that dragon—it's just a false hope I can never accomplish."

The words hurt to say. They hurt him, for, while they had some merit in his head, they pricked his heart with every syllable.

"The opposite of true love, if I may be so bold to say." Rarity got off her seat. She began to circle around the table. "True love is perfect love. Why? Because we accept our soul mates for their flaws and their strength, we're grateful for their every aspect as they are of our own, needing nothing more than what's already present."

Rarity came to the couch, resting her hoof on his claw.

"In that exact philosophy," Rarity began, running her hoof down his wrist, "is the very difference between Rainbow and me." She giggled, raising her muzzle to his, their snouts now touching. Her eyes were half-lidded; his, wide in surprise. "I wouldn't expect you to be anything more, my dear Spikey-Wikey, than what you already are."

Rarity's lips. They were plush with a tad of velvet lipstick, which she gave a small lick and nibble. They inched towards him, cutting the distance between them, the scenario exactly as he dreamed about when he was younger.

"You two never kissed, did you?" Rarity purred, nuzzling against his cheek. "A kiss cements a relationship, and since you two never did..." she kissed his cheek, which burned hotter after the contact. "It means you never dated, just a slightly more intimate relationship with the friend. The same could be said of Fluttershy and me sometimes."

Spike berated himself for the image that came into his mind.

"You are still pure, my sweet innocent dragon." Rarity pulled back, breathing through her lips and onto his. "You are still a prince trying to find a princess, and I know just where I can find one."

Rarity went in for the kill. Her lips were before his. A mere inch, and the act would be done. A new relationship from the ashes of his last, with the previous love of his life and a childhood dream come true. She was doing all the work, and unlike before, he just had to do nothing.

"Find," Spike said, halting the white lips. Rarity looked up at him, and he looked down at her. "I...I still need to find Rainbow Dash." He then slid back on the couch, pulling himself away from temptation. "There's this letter for her from the Wonderbolts, and it expires at the end of today."

Rarity groaned, losing her seductive expression. "Are you sure she's what you want to focus on, especially at the present moment."

"I...am." Spike gulped. "At least, to give her the letter. I don't want to truly be the reason why her dream becomes ruined." He shook his head. "No. I want to see her succeed, to be happy, and for that to happen; I have to act now."

These words didn't hurt him so much. He stood from the couch, looking down at the mare. "So Rainbow was here trashing talking me last night. Fine, I probably deserve it." He came to her end of the couch, bending a knee so they were on eye-level. "But I need to know why she came here, if she's still here, or a hint as to where she went next."

Rarity huffed.

"Very well," she said, hopping off the couch. "Come now; your gift is upstairs."

She went upstairs to where the gift apparently was.

Spike did not follow at first. Instead, he looked between his legs, and looked at the absence of the thing that made him a male.

"I'm losing more and more faith in you."

Spike went up the stairs, the only uping he'd done in some time.





YOU ARE A MALE, CORRECT?

"Hope so."

NO, said Death, shuffling back to the first page. I MUST KNOW. IF YOU ARE IN FACT A FEMALE, WHICH SEEMS TO BE THE CASE THE MORE YOU GO ON, THERE ARE SOME PRONOUNS I NEED TO CHANGE.

"Yes," replied Spike. "I am a dude."

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?

"Of course I'm sure!" Spike threw up his claws. "You really think I made it this far without knowing?"

MANY POOR SOULS LIKE YOU HAVE PASSED THROUGH THAT SAME DOOR, said Death, his tone strangely comforting. It did not comfort Spike one bit. THEY LIVED LIVES OF SOLITUDE EVEN IN SOCIETY. THEY WERE NEVER TAUGHT WHEN THEY WERE YOUNG, AND MISUNDERSTOOD THE SIGNS THAT MADE THEM THE OPPOSITE.

"You've had boys that thought they were girls and girls that thought they were a dude?"

THAT'S PUTTING IT SIMPLY, said Death. THEY WERE MISINFORMED INSTEAD OF INTENT ON THEIR CHOICE.

"Wow." Spike blinked at that. Big or hard thoughts (he still swears he's not female) always made him blink in sunrises. Twilight had dubbed it 'blink and finger in mouth galore': his defensive mechanism to buy a few moments to work out a complex issue and minimize how much of a fool he looked like.

Everypony figured this out for themselves whenever they asked him algebra questions.

"Weird to think you can go through life without knowing what you are, or who you are."

OF COURSE YOU WOULD CLING TO THAT, said Death, sitting forward. SO?

"I'm a male!" Spike said, his tone wavering. These questions about the validity of his masculinity weren't helping his fragile confidence in the slightest.

A HUNDRED PERCENT?

Spike hesitated. "Y-Yes!"

YOU SURE? SOUNDED LIKE A NINETY-FIVE PERCENT TO ME.

"Since when does having the parts make you a male or female."

For the best interest of everyone alive and dead, Death didn't reply to that. He rose his quill and tapped at the gender box. He looked back up to Spike, and would've offered a weak smile were it not for the structure of his skull to always be grinning.

"I've already told you! What, do you want me to put it on the table?"

Death didn't reply for the best interest of himself.

"Not only that, but who are you to talk?" Spike leaned forward in his seat and pointed an index claw/finger/whatever menacingly. "Last I check, you're all just bone and robe. What could you possibly be packing down there?"

For the first time in a long while, Death was glad he was grinning.

Spike lost the remains of his confidence. "A-Are you packing down there?"

Death kept grinning.

"I...I don't believe you!" Spike fell back in the chair, shaking his head. "W-We're putting this rest, here and the now, you and me, on the table before us."

Death kept grinning

WOULDN'T WANT TO PUT YOU TO SHAME HERE.

And then Spike made a boner joke.





"She was quite rude and profane in speaking of you; I hope you know."

Spike really didn't want to know, but following his past-love now sorta kinda-love made him have to listen.

"Rainbow Dash is my friend, so I love her to death, but dear Celestia, I wanted to slap the mare up the back of the head for the things she said about you." They carried on down the corridor on the second floor. It never seemed to end. "She's heated, I know, but some of her words weren't brought about by anger. It's deep pondering propelled outward, so even if you'd carried on longer, the relationship was doomed anyway."

Rarity stopped walking, looking over her shoulder back at him. "Though it's no fault of your own, of course."

Spike smiled and nodded. He had a hard time believing that.

"Rainbow is just a girl that wants a lot out of life, no shame in that." Rarity continued walking; they were only a few feet from the door at the end of the hall. "But to base other ponies on the metric she bases herself is unfair. I don't look down on anypony else because their skills in fashion are inferior to my own."

"I, uh, don't think Rainbow is like that," Spike squeaked out, earning a backward gaze. It strained his throat further. "Just because she's good at flying doesn't mean she looks down on you, just look at her and Fluttershy."

"Now darling, I don’t want you to take any offense from this." Rarity placed her forehoof on the knob of the door, but looked back at him first. "But if that truly were the case, then why did you feel the need to break up with a mare that expected nothing from you? Surely, the tension of her expectations created unnecessary stress on an already stressful life."

"It...did?" He pulled a 'blink and finger to lip galore.' "And, I do?"

"Why of course!" Rarity said with a smile, letting his claw slip from the door when he was too dazed to notice. She even stepped away from it. "You are the number-one assistant to Twilight Sparkle, cleaning up her messes and dealing with her lovable eccentrics is already a worthy job. Now with her as Princess, your work is doubled."

Spike thought back to his 'added work,' which consisted of more therapy sessions, more late cups of Joe (not the pony), and whatever paperwork 'dragon ambassador' (nation unknown) could privilege him in seeing and placing in the 'accept' or 'reject' bins.

Twilight had it much harder than him, but pretending it was the other way around filled him with a guilty pleasure.

"Guess my life isn't so easy as everypony thinks it is." He nodded his head, liking the idea of ponies thinking he had the same worth ethic as his best friend. "Maybe that's why doing runs in the morning with Rainbow was so tough."

"I must admit, after a hard day at work, I treat myself to a glass of wine and light reading on the couch." Rarity stood before him now, smilingly sweetly. "We don't always have to be pushing ourselves. Some days, we deserve to relax."

Spike blinked. "But, Rainbow Dash relaxes all the time."

"Even worse," Rarity said, placing a hoof on his wrist. "While she pulls you away from work to run—and might I add you're already in terrific shape—she's spent the whole day sleeping. Does she ever tell you to run faster or push harder?"

"Well...yeah."

"Just as I thought!" Rarity tugged on his wrist, trying to turn him around. "You've been absolutely spent working while she has been napping, and she's wondering why you do not perform nearly as well? Seems like even more unfair expectations, to be honest with you."

"But...she always so so honest."

"Darling, being honest doesn't make you nice, or kind." Rarity tugged harder at his wrist, standing next to him now. "Rainbow honestly doesn't deserve you. Let's go back downstairs, and—" she licked her lips "—finish what we started."

Spike let himself be turned around, but didn't step forward. "What...what about Rainbow?"

"What about the mare has been unfair to you and talking behind your back?" Rarity spat, inhaling sharply through her nostrils. She exhaled through her mouth. "You know what? Fine. She's already off finding your replacement, but since you care so much for her career, I'll send a letter to Twilight to the bar she's currently in."

"Replacement?" Spike said, tone lost. "I thought she was hurting as much as I was."

"She was," Rarity said. "Got over it rather quickly, I must add. Why, did you think a mare like her would be hung up on you forever?"

"No. I was just...it's not that I want her to be unhappy, but I thought..."

"That ship has since long sailed, my dear." Rarity nodded back at the stair. "It's not that big of surprise she got over you so quickly. Now let us go downstairs."

Spike stepped forward. "You're sure she's over me? That she's happy and better off?"

"Undoubtedly. I could laugh at you like she did last night if it'll make you feel better?" The drake did not move nor say a word. He just gazed down and was silent. "Thinking or asking about Rainbow isn't doing you any favors. Come now, let us get the letter written and our drinks finished."

Rarity went down a step, but did not go down another when her charge failed to follow. He was staring at the door. "Aren't you coming, dear?"

Spike looked back at her. "What's behind the door?"

"Nothing special," she said with a shrug. "It's just where Rainbow and I spent our time together." She snickered. "Still probably a mess from all the pastries where shared. If it's alright with you, I'd like us to go downstairs first."

"I...see." Spike narrowed his eyes at her and took a few steps back. "If that's the case, do you mind if I take a quick peek inside? I'll be down right afterward."

Rarity went back up that step, her eyes just as narrowed. "Your tone? I'm reading it, Spiky. And I very much do not appreciate your suspicion of me."

"Sorry," he said, taking another few steps backward. He was close to the door. "My unstable emotions must have me outta whack still. Pinkie said Rainbow came here because she had something to do."

"Yeah. Talk badly about you."

"See, I would believe that." Spike had his back to the door, raising his claw to its knob. "But you said it yourself—you and Rainbow weren't exactly friends again. She could have gone to Applejack or Fluttershy, yet she came to you."

"Have you ever considered that she might have gone to the mare that's dealt with the love affairs of the same dragon?" Rarity shot back, her hoofsteps forward louder than her voice. "That the reason for the hole in our friendship is the same reason for the hole in her heart? You dated her, Spike, you should know Dash better than that."

Rarity stood before him. "She could have gone to anyone and they would have given her wisdom. But for me?" She raised her hoof and placed it on his claw, sliding it off the knob. "Rainbow went to me because I had experience. She wouldn't have stayed as long as she did had I mere trivialities to spout."

Rarity stared into his eyes, any ounce of compassion lost from her expression. "What you will find in that room will make this situation worse for everyone involved, including yourself." She pulled back. "Rainbow has already moved on, and you should do the same. Stop caring so much about things that don't matter—that was an aspect all of us appreciated on that day, despite all the damages."

Rarity walked forward.

"You're right."

Rarity stopped. She turned around.

"I do care about things that don't matter at the end of the day." Spike chuckled, looking down. "That if I stopped caring so much, my life would be better. My body keeps crying out to be like that again, to drink this tiny little vial and all my problems will be washed away."

Rarity tilted her head.

"But it feels too easy, and wrong while I'm at it." He raised his head, meeting her gaze straight on. His words did not waver. "It's like letting something else enter my body and do all the hard things in life for me, to be right when I should and act when I'm afraid. To make the hard call without a sweat, so I can live an easy life once it's done."

He flung his arm right. "But that life wouldn't be mine! Any improvement, any character, none of that can happen if someone does all the hard stuff for me! I care too much about stuff that does not matter, but at least I get to choose what I care about!"

His claw gripped the knob, turned it, and threw the door open.

Spike then turned around, and wanted to cry at what he saw.





OH. SO YOU DON'T STRUGGLE WITH THOSE TYPES OF DOORS.

Death put one of his bones on the table.

"Is that your dick?!"





Two mannequins stood in the middle of the room. One was of a pegasus, the other a drake. The first a dress of light blue and the hem of a Rainbow, the second a suit with a purple blazer and a green vest, and a white dress shirt underneath the combo.

Spike fell against the door frame, panting at the sight. "What...what is this?"

From behind him, Rarity glared at the sight. She looked over her shoulder down the hall; a thought then struck her, one that made her grin and not hesitate to enter the room.

"This, if you must know, is the gift Rainbow had been preparing you." Rarity walked past him, flicking him with her tail and keeping her tone in contempt. "She'd come to me little ways after you started dating to commission an update on her dress as well as proper attire for your recent growth spurt. She intended to ask you to the Gala."

Spike looked on, blinking then looking down. A claw grabbed at his heart. "I...I see." He tried looking up at Rarity, but only lifted his head an inch. "And you helped her? Even after all that had happened?"

"Darling. Do you truly take me for a heartless mare?" Rarity tone held some emotion. "No matter what happens, you two are my friends, and it would be a crime against fashion itself to see you both go underwhelmed. Had you come out at that party with your relationship, I would have hated myself for not giving you two my all."

"I...I just can't believe she went out and did all this."

"Then it should be of equal disbelief that she asked for it all to be destroyed." Spike raised his head immediately, but all he saw was a stoic face. The world felt as if it were closing in on him. "Rainbow was heartbroken by your breakup, but after to coming to Pinkie and me, she decided to be done with you once and for all. The proof of that decision? Once I destroy my two creations."

"So...that's it, then? Rainbow is really done with me?"

"Afraid so." Rarity walked towards him. "The reason why I kept you out was to keep you away from the truth of the matter. I wish you would learn this sooner, Spike." She tried her hoof on his arm again. He didn't even flinch. "That caring about the wrong things can hurt you."

Spike did not have the strength to respond.

"Instead of wasting your efforts in caring for Dash, how about you care about what's right in front of you?" Rarity pulled away, backing to the mannequins. "These outfits don't have to perish, we could still use them. This dress would look great on me, wouldn't you agree?"

Spike looked on and knew his time of silence was over. This entire visit had been leading somewhere, and now he had been there, and the truth of the place wasn't pretty. He still longed for Rainbow, but she was better off without him, then maybe it was time to move on as well. He could do so, but he needed just one thing:

To be sure.

"You know what, Rarity?" Spike pushed himself off the door. He began going forward, his feet stumbling. "You're right. You would look dazzling in that dress."

"Oh?"

"With you mane done up and your lips the right shade of red, you'd look radiant in the moonlight." He came before her, holding a claw at his hip. "And, if I'm honest, your flank would fill out more at the back."

"My my," Rarity tittered, lightly hitting him with a hoof. "Where did you get that confidence from? Were it anyone else, I'd be offended, truly."

"Seeing myself in the suit," he said, staring at the clothes. "Dressed that nice with you at my side, who wouldn't be. Heck, maybe even put Rainbow and her new boy-toy to shame."

"Now that wasn't a comment I was expecting." Rarity batted her eyelashes and rested against the drake. "Heartbroken one second and jealous the next. You move on rather quick."

"Only because you were right," Spike said. "Caring about what went down isn't getting me anywhere—I have to move on and forward. If she thinks she can badmouth me after all the stunts she pulled, then she has another thing coming at the Gala."

"Darling, no new boyfriend could amount to having a dragon as one."
Dope

"True, but she'll be a Wonderbolt by this point." Spike brought his claw to his chin. "If she doesn't pick up a boyfriend today at the bar, then she may hook up with an another Wonderbolt." He looked back at Rarity. "You and I may be amazing, but those two will outrank us again. I'm not going to a Gala just to be outdone by my ex."

"But Spiky, think of how magical it'll be!"

"It'll hurt more than anything else." Spike turned around. "Sorry Rares, but I'll pass."

"It doesn't have to be a competition between us, just think of the implications of us just being there!" Rarity rested a hoof on his wrist, but he tore himself away. "The night would be romantic, our entrance drawing gasps from everypony there. There will be moonlight and dancing, and we could meet midnight with a kiss!"

"Sorry Rarity," Spike said in a tone of finality, "but I'm not going with Rainbow there. You'll just have to go it alone."

Rarity huffed, looked down in thought, then looked back up again. "What if I said if Rainbow wouldn't be there?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, Rainbow missing an event to show off."

"If you truly want to get back at Rainbow, then date me." That made Spike look at her. She was grinning. "Rainbow is still not fond of me and struggled to destroy these outfits. She may have gone to a bar afterward, but no new coltfriend could amount seeing your ex and his new marefriend dressed in your outfit."

"So you've finally come out with it."

"I've finally come out with what?"

Spike turned around, holding her chin up with a claw. "The Rarity I knew would get over herself so that her friends could be happy, but the one before me is willing to lie just to get revenge. You rejected me one moment, then wanted me the next."

"Did you...did you just play me!?"

"No worse than how you played on the guilt of my breakup." Spike slid his claw away and stepped back. "Let me tell you something Rarity, had this been weeks ago; I would have been jumping for joy at having you as my marefriend. But no matter how desperate I may become, I won't date a mare that's only doing to have what she was denied."

Rarity growled. "You're going to come to regret this, Spike.'

"Add to the list," Spike said, his back almost to the door. "My biggest regret is thinking what you said about Rainbow was right in the slightest. The truth is, I am a lazy dragon that could be so much more, and Rainbow isn't basing me on her expectations, she's raising me to the potential she sees inside me."

"That's still expecting more than what's presented."

"Maybe," Spike said, now at the doorway. "We should accept our lovers for who they are, but we should also let them change us for the better, as we do the same for them. No relationship can ever be perfect, even in your ideal one, but all relationships can make progress."

Rarity only stepped forward. "You're making a great mistake about this. Rainbow may be hung up on you, but I wasn't lying about the outfits, or her attempt at new love in some bar."

"The only mistake I've made is making Rainbow out to be the villain in this." Spike turned around. "For a while, I wondered even I loved her, if I was just excited to have a marefriend finally. But every morning, despite sleeping in and having ice-cream, I'm still unhappy. Do you know why?"

He wasn't expecting a response.

"It's because I don't get to tie my running shoes," he said, "that I don't get startled as soon as I leave my house by her active voice. That I don't get to see her smile as I run further than the day before. I may have been too scared to touch her, but whenever she scooted next to me on her own, no bed is more comfortable than the feel of her wings."

Spike shook his head. "No matter what, I can say this for sure." He looked over his shoulder. "I did love Rainbow Dash. I was just too much of a coward to show it, even to myself. She's everything I've ever wanted in a mare, the kind that makes me better and happy every-time I see her."

He looked forward, and with a great breathed, began ahead. "Rainbow can slap me, hit me, even kill me, but no matter what, she's getting that letter and my apology. I wasn't wrong to break up with her, but I was when I didn't say that I loved her."

Rarity was after him in a second. "You’re unsubtle, your cowardice will hurt others more than your carelessness ever did! You'd be better off as that drake again than the one that stumbles around and breaks things because of it!"

"I could be that Spike again," Spike said, never breaking his stride. "But it's in my choices, in facing what I fear, that makes me, me."

And just like that, he was down the stairs, and slightly after that, out the door. Rarity stood in place, anger boiling in her chest at the events that had transpired. "I...I refused to be beaten by that brute!" She shot her head back to the room they'd been in. "Desperate times calls for Desperate measures."

She giggled as she went back into the room, which turned into outright laughter as she floated a box from underneath her bed. "You've grown a backbone, Spiky, but that's something nature gave you: not something you had to work to earn. Let's see how your new confidence handles a cold hard truth?"

Rarity floated the necklace around her neck (big surprise) and moaned at the influx of power.

"Ready or not, Spikey-Wikey." Rarity turned around, green wisps floating from her eyes. "Like it or not, you'll be mine!"





IT'S OKAY. WE'LL PUT YOU AS MALE.

Spike wanted to cry.

C'MON NOW. MANY CREATURES HAVE CRIED IN THAT SHAME CHAIR, BUT IT WAS ALWAYS FOR BIGGER REASONS, LIKE THE LOSS OF THEIR LIVES.

Spike blinked, choking out his words. "This...this is exactly the same."

HOW SO?

"This is the loss of my masculinity."

IF ANYTHING. YOU SHOULD BE MORE COMFORTABLE ABOUT YOUR SEXUALITY. THE FACT YOU COULDN'T GET YOURS UP IN THE PRESENCE OF MINE SHOULD INDICATE YOUR ATTRACTIONS TO DRAGONESS, OR MARES. Death tilted his head in thought. YOU KNOW, I HAVEN'T ASKED WHY YOU FIND MARES ATTRACTIVE. ISN'T THAT BORDERLINE BEASTIALITY?

"Uh." Spike scratched his head. "Mares don't always glare at you as dragoness do, they're always more kind and have more character."

CHARACTER, EH? Death was once more glad he was grinning. IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE CALLING IT NOWADAYS?

"Fine!" Spike threw his claws up in the air. "I like furry butts over scaly ones, alright?!"

I DO NOT JUDGE CREATURES ON THEIR SEXUAL PREFERENCES, said Death, ONLY ON WHEN THEY'RE MEANT TO DIE. He leaned closer to Spike, raising a hand to the side of his mouth. AND, TO BE HONEST WITH YOU, BONY BEHINDS ARE THE BEST KIND.

"Speaking of bones," Spike said. "Why is yours so big anyway?"

I AM SEVEN FEET TALL, said Death. IT'S JUST A MATTER OF PROPORTIONS.

"Right." Spike sighed. "So, the absence of my thing popping out at your thing has removed any doubt of your mind of me not being male or attracted to my sex."

YES.

"So, if that's the case, can you get your thing of the table?"

YES.

Nothing happened for a moment.

"Will you be doing that soon or—"

YES.





Spike threw the door behind him as he walked out onto the street. He gazed down all the split-roads, trying to think of one that would take him to a bar. He faintly remembered catching wind of a pub on the outskirts of town, so going the way of the bridge would take him there.

He stopped before the stream of ponies, Their ceaseless movement making it difficult for him to join in. He sighed, looking up at the sky.

The sun was in its proper place; late afternoon was already here.

"Damn it!" Spike hissed under his breath, rubbing a claw against his nose. "Day's half-done and I'm not any closer to finding Rainbow. Why do I have to be so useless?!"

Spike clenched his eyes and held his breath. Berating himself was a habit Rainbow tried to break in him and for a good reason: it only wasted time, drained him of willpower, and didn't get him any closer to his goal.

He took a step forward.

"ZA WORLDO!"

The world froze. Well, it's not that the world itself had stopped. While the idea of Equestria being round or flat was still contested in many a court, it's safe to assume, that if it's the former, the planet (which has yet to be named, which is odd) was still spinning. There would be catastrophic results if the world had stopped spinning: there was a book written about it, and even a movie, so that made it true.

So instead of saying the world had froze, it was more like everything on the planet had froze. Ponies were still, birds suspended overhead, trees and flowers unmoving, though the effect of the spell had yet to be proven on plants.

Spike screamed, so that proved he wasn't frozen. He walked into the stream of ponies that previously gave him trouble, waving his claw in front of a stallion and gauging the response: there was none. He raised a brow, then the stallion's hoof, opening his mouth and sticking the hoof as far in as he could.

The stallion had his hoof in his mouth. This made Spike giggle.

"Turn around!" bellowed a voice from above. Spike did just that, finding its source atop the building. "And feast your eyes on the result of your crime!"

"But I already am!" Spike said, stepping forward. "And what is all this? How come everyone is frozen except you and me?"

Rarity struck out her chest. Spike shielded his eyes and respect, then realized she meant to show him something other than that. He feasted his eyes on her chest, blushing slightly, but seeing the amulet that hung on it. "Because of this!"

"The alicorn amulet?" Spike said, shaking his head and stepping forward, again. "Where in Equestria did you get that?"

"Stole it."

"Stole it?" he repeated. "From where."

"Irrelevant."

"Not really." Spike scratched the side of his head. "We've already had one antagonist abuse that power. Twilight would be furious if somepony abused that power to—oh okay I see I'm boned."

Rarity smiled. She began to sing.

"Come now, young one, and feast upon the priiiice of your criiime!" Rarity hopped down from the room to the second floor, strutting across a glass window. "A sin contrived by your reckless desiiire, your unsure heart puuumps me full of strange deeeelight!"

"Singing? Are you kidding me!" Spike threw his claw in the air. "Come now, Rarity, and knock this cruuuud ooooout!" He cursed under his breath. "Damn it, now you have me doing it tooooo! How could this get aaaaaany woooorse?"

"Why, with just a clap of course!" Rarity clapped her hooves, and just like that, the frozen ponies unfroze. 'Hoooope you're ready for my woooorst!"

A stallion knocked himself out by punching himself in his mouth. He also choked on the said hoof, and unwillingly swallowed dirt and grass, and more than likely would have died if the surroundings stallions didn't help a brother out.

"Come now, mares and stallions, and listen to my cuuurse!" A thin green wave shot out from Rarity, passing through all those nearby who were pushed back from the force. They shook their head, eyes closed, but when they opened again, a green wisp exuded from them all. "For revenge, no matter how sweet, cannot be completed alooooone!"

The stallions to the right of the building sang. "Oooh ho noooo!"

The mares to the left of the building sang. "Hooo oh noooo!"

"That right, now, everyone!" Rarity threw herself forward, stretching her hoof past the edge. "Get him now, the scaly one, yet to reap what he has sooown!"

"Wait, wait!" Spike held up his claws and began stepping back, both the mares and the stallions closing in on him. "Why am the only male singing like a maaaare?"





SHOULD I EVEN ASK?

"Please Celestia doooon't!"

THIS TALE IS GETTING RATHER FULL OF ABSURDITY.

"Oh honey, you haven't even seen it aaaall!"





Spike ran. He ran far away. A wave followed him from behind, and in the alleyways of the blurring buildings, he saw torrents of mares and stallions on either side. He couldn't help but cry at the sky above. "Please all, everyone, this is a pain I did not mean at aaaaall!"

"Tough luck, little wimp." Spike looked up to see three pegaus soaring above him, blanketing him in their shadow. They sang even as the ones on the side broke out of formation. "Meetings others always entaillls this priiiice!"

"Please understand, I was in love, but did not deserve the same in reeetuuuurrrrnnn!" Spike yelped as one of the pegasuses rocketed through an upcoming alley, hooves open to tackle him. He didn't have time to think, letting his body act, picking up the lid to a trash can and letting her take that instead. "I did what I did for the best of us all. She just took it the wroooong waaaaay!"

"Right way, wrong way, you're insane!" The pegasus had flown into a wall, rubbing her muzzle. "A broken heart, and a nose I might add, will pain us allll nooo matter whaaaat!"

Spike coughed as he pushed his legs harder. "I know, I know! I was a fool, alright! I knew not of what I was doing then, just as I'm doing now, why I'm afraid, why can't you all just understaaaand?"

"Understand? Understand!" At the end of the long alley, the second pegasus bolted towards him. He yelped but did not stop running. "Honey, you aren't the only one that’s scared, no pony lives without fear—despite being twisted in the head! The love of your life was just as scared; only she was brave enough to face it alll for yooou!"

"I know, I should have known!" Spike clenched his eyes and ran faster, trusting his heart instead of his mind. Then the moment felt right, and he slid on his knees. His eyes opened to an orange underbelly. "My insecurity racked my brain, my eyes could not see, the beauty that laid beeefooooreee meeee!"

"Excuses excuses!" The stallions on his tail began to catch up, almost literally on his tail. "You're a dragon, strong and proud, how could you be such a wimp about this allll?"

"I know, I know." Spike ran faster and faster, away from his problems. "Don't you see? I've made a mistake, but I'm trying to make it riiiight?"

"Right? Yeah, right!" The stallions were running alongside him now, four legs beating two. "Hand a letter like any mailpony. What's so special about this exxxchaaaange?"

"Because I'm done with my fears! My insecurities and self blaaame!" Spike outran them all, which shouldn't be possible, but then again, love triumphs logic. " All hogwash for my therapist later in the day. For now, boys and girls, it's time to tell this mare just what she means to meeee!"

The mares looked to the stallions and the stallions looked to the mares. They all looked to the drake, looking amazed.

"Why now."

"Scaly one!"

"Your voice."

"It has changed!"

"Changed, whatever do you mean?" Spike rubbed his claw against his throat, and despite not feeling anything different, was overcome with joy. "Hey now, everyone, you were right! I've had a character development after allll!"

The stallion and the mares all began to smile, the curse lifting from their eyes.

"Cheers now, everyone!" The stallions caught up to the drake, who slowed because he was no longer chased. Some even patted his shoulder. "Our boy has grown, not feet but in heart, for he finally understands what's been calling him all a aloooong!"

"A body made strong by birth, a tongue sharp by books, and heart made alive by its foolish pains." The mares swooped alongside himself, batting their manes and their tails, but the latter went unnoticed as the dragon stared ahead. "You are growing, living and becoming, just like your marefriend prophesized! Do you think, that's there's still a chance, she was riiiight?"

"Without a doubt, that much is for sure!" Spike finally exited the long alleyway, followed not by haters but supporters, marching in his stead. He began across town, spotting something by the town's fountain. "I see her now, everyone, that mare with the blue fur and rainbow mane. I finally found her, after such a straaaannnge daaaay!"

"Hooray!"

"Hooray!"

"Time to make things right, with this letter and love, so she hurts no more!" Spike didn't stop in his swagger, the marching ponies giving him some space to continue up ahead.

They sang up to him. "Do you think you'll get back together!"

"Maybe or maybe not!" Spike smiled back at them, keeping it as he looked forward. "That's for her to de—"

Rainbow kissed another stallion.

"—cide."

The stallions and the mares came to a full stop. There was a collective gasp.

"I...I don't get it." Spike stumbled back, letting the letter slip from his claw. "I thought I had done everything right?"

"ZA WORLDO!"

The world froze again, and this time, Spike wished he was frozen as well. The back of Rainbow's head was to him, bent forward as she took her lovers lips fully, unaware just how public her make-out session was.

"There? Are you quite satisfied?" Spike didn't want to, but he turned around, seeing Rarity atop a rooftop. "This is the truth I tried to save you from. Tell me, not that's you've seen it all, was it worth the priiice?"

Spike shook his head. "I just wanted to do good!"

"Yeah well, it happens to us all!" Rarity slid down the building before hopping down, strutting up to him an absolute delight. "We all make mistakes and well all pay the price. But worry not, young one, I will love you alwayyys!"

Spike turned around, looking at his previous love awash in bliss. Rarity teleported before him, bringing her lips to his, but he kept staring at was once his. She went in for the kill, but he moved his head, receiving a kiss on his cheek instead.

"All will be set, in just a little bit." Rarity picked up the letter, placing it inside her mane. "Your work here is done, doing the best that you could. Relax now, broken one, and let everything settle doooown!" 

Rarity ignited her horn in a green glow, and before the drake could raise his claw, he was shot backward. The impact was strong and immediate, sending him flying across down, his back slamming against something hard but then landing on something soft. He looked around, surrounded by metal walls, and he soon realized where he was.

Spike reached out a claw, but the train doors were shut on him. It whistled and steamed, making its way around, a day-long trip in store for all those aboard. There was no point in fighting, for there were guards paid by Rarity's coin. He lost his love and his confidence, so it only made sense to wallow away, and let the world repair itself after his meddling.



This was Spike's defeat. 

> VI – Of The Flying Train & The Floating City
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


 ~ VI ~

Of The Flying Train & The Floating City


Dragons did not grow facial hair, and if they could, then very few did. If they did, then it would be a beard of scales on scales, which would be weird, but not much weirder than the stallions, who had hair on their hair. Either way, if you came across the dragon, it was unlikely they would be burning you to a crisp while rocking a beard.

This fact saddened Spike. He had many reasons to be sad, like his break up and then repaired heat, only for it to be shattered again by his love finding another mate and his somewhat crazy ex locking him in a train.

“Listen, we're going to have to stop giving you milkshakes.”

Life then got worse.

“W-What do you mean!” Spike asked, his head wobbly and his claws trembling. He sat a stool before a bar, knocking over the glass of his finished drink. “I'm in pain here. Milkshakes help with the pain!”

“See, that's the issue.” The stallion behind the counter picked up his glass, beginning to wipe the interior with a cloth. “Rarity wasn't expecting her plan to reach this far, so she only secured the smallest train available, which means limited space for drinks, and thus, limited milkshakes.”

“No...” Spike collected his face into his claw. “How am I supposed to go on from here!?”

“That's the other thing,” said the stallion, appraising the glass once he was done, “you're appearing to be drunk despite nothing added to your milkshakes.”

“It's because I can't grow a beard, alright?”

The stallions frowned, putting down the glass. “Pardon?”

“For one in my life, I could feel my life coming together, that I was actually meant to do something!” Spike slammed his claw on the counter. “And just like that, it was all taken away from me. Let's face it, my life is over, and I need to grow a beard and get an addiction to show others just how much I'm hurting inside.”

The stallion frowned. He pulled up another glass, lifted a miniature hose to it, which then sprayed out a brown liquid. Once the glass was full, he slid it over to the drake. “Taste that.”

Spike tasted it. When he spat it out a moment later, it was implied he did not like what he tasted.“What was that?!”

“Actual booze,” the stallion said, swiping the drink to his lips and chugging it back. Once he downed the drink, he began cleaning it, again. “You still hurtin?”

“Well, yeah.” Spike scratched his neck. “My heart is still broken, but now there's a yucky taste in my mouth.”

“Let that be a lesson to you,” the stallion said. “Going for other ponies validation for what you feel is retarded. Not only that, but if you go with the whole 'woe is me' look, what if ponies still don't see you for a miserable cunt? Does that make your pain any less real?'

“I guess not,” Spike said, shrugging his shoulder. “Then again, not much point to me learning any of this anyway. I've still lost my girl, I'm still stuck on a train with a bunch of beefy guards for a few days, and more than likely, I'm going to go back crawling to the mare that put me on this train in the first place.”

“Listen, a lot of things are not going to go your way in life, you can't throw a pity party and retract progress every time this happens,” Flare said, placing his forehooves on the counter and leaning forward. “It's like starting up half-way a mountain, losing faith and rolling back down, just to re-attempt it all with the same attitude!”

Spike only groaned; he wasn't the only one to do so.

“Look, this is my stop, alright?” Flare came out from the counter, giving a pat to the drake's shoulders. “You seem like an all-right drake that's a bit hard on himself. Give yourself a break, enjoy the few days off, and then take what you've learned and move forward, all right?”

Spike gave him a half-wave goodbye, and five minutes later, he was sitting alone.

The pain became worse with every passing moment. The parade towards her was nothing but cringe inside his mind, and try as he might, he couldn't suppress the image of Dash kissing another stallion. He knew he couldn't be mad; they were no longer dating, so it wasn't cheating, but it still hurt just as much.

Without quite meaning to, his claw slipped into his pocket, and pulled out the vial. He tilted it, watching the liquid race up and down the glass.

'You did your best,' Greed said, making the drake shudder. Not in the way of fear but moreso in tiredness. 'You came a lot farther than I expected, you really did, but of course, the whole thing has blown up in your face! You must be in a lot of pain, right?'

Spike didn't bother with a response. He nodded.

'Even more of a reason to drink that vial,' Greed went on. 'Look, ain't nobody denying you've had a tough few days. Tough doesn't even surmise your pain, but there won't be a need to surmise when you're down under.'

Spike raised a brow.

'You're going to be off for a few days anyway, from chores and saving the world, but you're going to be too miserable to enjoy it. So here's what I propose.' Spike didn't want to listen to the proposal, but since Greed was inside his head, he had no choice in the matter. 'Drink the vial, sit back, and relax. Ring-bap-boom. No pain, nothing for you to steal, just total rest for both body and mind.'

Spike went to oppose, but something told him to think about it first. He chalked up the instinct to Greed trying to pull a fast one, but realized there really was nothing for him to steal on this train. 'Okay Greed, what's the trick?'

'No trick this time around, cowboy.' Greed sounded tired. 'I am your Greed and the true dragon side of you, but even I get fed up with all this drama and beratement. I honestly could use a few days from both you and the world, and that vial will do good for everyone involved.'

'For the first time in a while, I don't think you're trying to trick me.' Spike uncorked the vial, bringing to close to his lips. 'Nothing makes sense anymore. Everything hurts. Should focus on just making myself feel good, right?

'Yes,' said Greed. 'Choosing not to feel pain is your choice as is anything else you've done today. The guards have you locked down. The train won't be stopping for a few days: there is no escape beyond what's inside that vial.'

“Touché,” Spike said, lifting the vial and catching the liquid in sunlight. He brought it to his lips, tilted it back, then something shoved against his shoulder. He jerked, the vial flying out his claw and rolling along the counter, its liquid spilling onto the wood.

“Whoops,” said a deep voice, one of the two passing stallions glancing back. “Sorry 'bout that, bud.”

Spike started at the vial with his mouth agape and eyes ready to cry. He lunged forward, picking up the vial before any more liquid could spill, but it was a mostly wasted effort. Looking at the counter, he didn't hesitate to wipe his tongue across the surface to lick any of the remaining liquid.

“What the hell?” The other stallion turned around. The drake now had his lips on the counter, sucking the wood with audible suction. The stallion looked at his other. “You whack him upside the head or somthin?”

“Just grazed his shoulder.” The first stallion shrugged, both looking back to the drake. “Made him drop something by mistake.” His eyes went wide. “You don't think Rarity will deduct this from my pay?”

“Dunno. Guy gives me the creeps though.” The second stallion walked up to the drake, putting his hoof to the scaly forehead and pushing it up from the desk. Spike's tongue slithered in the air and his claws doggy-paddled in the air. “What the hell is wrong with you? Get a grip!”

“I...I can't!” Spike cried out, falling from the stool to his knees. “That vial was my safety net, in case things got too big! Now I have nothing to fall back on...I'm pathetic!”

“Get up from the floor!” The guard yelled. “Rarity ain't paying us to get your knees dirty. She's made us carry your outfits into the train, and you've got to be looking proper once this crazy ride Is over. Capiche?”

Spike kept staring down at the vial in his claw. A minuscule amount collected at the bottom.

“Are you even listening?!” The stallion stepped before him. “That bartender was supposed to pull you outta this funk. We can't afford to deal with your black cloud, not when half our guard is out looking for that mare.”

Spike blinked, then looked up. “What did you say?”

“The missing broad,” the stallion continued. “Friend of Rares, or somthin' close to that. Made her out to be a bitch, but apparently not enough to trump concern for her.”

“No way,” Spike said, his gaze lost. “Rainbow is still missing?”

“That's her name.” The guard nodded upward. “The situation hasn't changed: still a whole load of work for little coin. So can you get up and make our lives a little easier?”

“I...I can't believe it.” Spike slowly rose, but still looking down.

“Hey, moron!” The second guard stepped forward, pulling his other back. “That's info we were supposed to withhold.”

“I saw her though,” Spike said, raising his head. “It was Rainbow, it had to be Rainbow! She had a blue coat and rainbow mane, I mean, I didn't see her face but—“

“Then that's a load off our mind!” The second stallion put himself forward. “We hadn't see Rarity since we carried the cargo, so you probably did find up finding her. Sorry about your broken heart—“ he leaned over the counter and poured another drink “—have another glass.”

“...sure.” Spike kept eye-contact as he stepped back to the counter. He didn't break this even after he lifted the glass. “So, are you two just goons from some back alley then? A shake of a white rump for a lower price.”

“Hey, watch it!”

“Rarity was going to stallions instead of proper guards, her standards must be low, that or her purse.” Spike turned and faced the two. “Hope you got paid up-front, she may try to foot the bill when push comes to shove.'

“We've been at her service longer than you know!”

Spike smirked. “I'm sure you have.”

He splashed the liquid on both of their faces. In an instant, the first stallion grabbed his head and smashed it into the counter, keeping him pinned there.

“That's it scaly, you've severed a nerve!” The guard chuckled, wiping his face with a free hoof. “We were supposed to take real nice care of you, but it isn't so hard to believe that a dragon such as yourself lashed out over your heartbreak.” He chuckled, lifting the drake by his spines, then slamming him back into the wood. “Especially when we tell you your girl is still missing. That broad you saw?”

“Don't!”

“A friend of your girl, except only one of them were truly friends.” He laughed. “As for a Rainbow mane, c'mon kid, get real: rainbow wigs aren't exactly a commodity.”

“You mean,” Spike said, anger rising in his tone. “That Rainbow's still missing!?”

“Oh yeah.” The stallion raised his head again, bringing his face closer to his own. “She's still a little filly lost in this big open world. But don't you sweat now—we'll find her before anything bad can happen to her.”

Spike's head was slammed into the wood, harder than anytime before as the world went black. Sadness, insecurity, anxiety, despair—it all faded away. All that came to the drake was the vision of distant memories.

“C'mon Spike, we've been doing this for a week straight!” Rainbow whined from above the door, hovering in place. “Sunrise sharp! What's kept you?”

“Slept in again,” Spike replied in a tone of disappointment. He kept his head down for good effect. “I'm...I'm sorry, Rainbow. I hate letting you down.”

Rainbow went to say something, then stopped, took a deep breath, and alighted to the floor. With a smile, she placed a hoof under his chin, then tipped it up. “You haven't let anyone down, sport. The fact you've lasted a week with me is enough of a reason to have your chin up.”

Spike smiled back, relishing in the feel of her hoof.

Rainbow blushed at the contact, looking away and ears pinning back. A few seconds went by, and then she shrugged her shoulders, throwing her forelegs around the drake and closing in for a hug. “Not many newbies stick around this long, especially boyfriends. I'm sorry if I've been a bit hard on you.”

Spike threw his claws up when she hugged him, afraid to touch her as though it were some sin. He would have kept like this, too afraid to take hold of what was his, but after hearing her tone of hurt, he bit on his lip and lowered his arms, wrapping them around her slender body. “You've been nothing but perfect, Rainbow, and it's just me who's getting used to working harder. Nopony else has been this involved in seeing me improve, and I can't thank you enough.”

The two enjoyed their embrace. They would have enjoyed it for a longer time, too, were it not for passing ponies giggling at the sight. Rainbow broke away almost immediately, putting a few feet between herself and her love. “I, er, that didn't happen!'

Spike chuckle, saw her frown grow, then lowered his head. “Aye-aye, captain.”

“E-Enough playing around!” her voice crack. “Daylight is a wastin'!”

“Sure thing, coach.”

“And another thing.” Before Spike could look up, he had a hoof do it for him. “Stop looking down at yourself so much. Hard to run forward if you can't see the road.”

Spike smiled, and without meaning to, spoke. “And all the beautiful things right in front of you.”

Dash's cheek burned red as she flapped her wings, flying backward into the air. “Oh-ho, you cheesy little bum, that's going to be an extra lap!” She floated in the air, bringing a hoof to her cheek and then looking away. “Half a lap, so start looking up, and get a move on!”

Spike came to. His face was lifted again, the stallion grinning with delight, though it didn't last for long as he raised his other claw to grab the back of the stallion's head. Before his prey could even react, Spike slammed his head against the counter, repeatedly, before letting the body fall to the floor.

“What the hell!” The second stallions were upon him, cocking back his foreleg. He threw the punch, but Spike weaved left, smashing the left side of his head with the glass. The sound of glass shattering was only matched by the following thud.
“I can't believe this!' Spike shouted, stepping forward and into the next carriage. Rows of seats were on either side of him, stretching down to the next door, six stallions, two by two, situated down its length. They turned to him. “Rainbow Dash is still missing, but it's your job to guard me? Not happening!”

Spike started towards them. The two stallions froze up.

“Get ready to take him,” said one.

“Rarity said not to hurt him!” said the second. “He's a wimp that has his scales polished—never been in a fight before in his life!”

The second stallion was foolish enough to believe this, that was, until the lunging dragon threw his fist across his cheek. The force sent him flying into one of the chair, the impact enough to render him unconscious.

“Behind you.” Before the drake could look, he felt an elbow slam into the top of his head. “Like I'd trust a dragon to be cute.”

“You thought right,” Spike said, his voice eliciting fear into his opponent, who expected him to go down. The drake still stood, on knees buckling to hold his weight, and a moment later, he struck a punch to the exposed chest. “This dragon is kicking ass!”

With the weight gone, Spike rose, and in turn, brought his elbow down on the stallions head. He fell immediately, right into the lifting scaly knee that met him at his chin, sending him flying up in the air. The stallion would have screamed, were it not for the drake twirling around, and connecting his foot to his stomach. The stallions flew back, smacked against the window, and was not heard from again.

Before Spike could turn around, the next two stallions tackled him to the ground.

“You need to try harder, Spike, you're almost there!” Rainbow's voice came from behind him, but he didn't dare look back. His breathing was heavy and his heart heavier, legs burning from exhausting and eyes wanting to shut. “Making it across Ponyville at this speed without stopping will be a milestone. You can't quit now!”

“I'm...I'm trying...Dash.” Spike got the words out in-between pants, his lips never before so dry. “But I just can't do it. I, wasn't built, for, this kind of stuff!'

“But you're a dragon!”

“Yeah, a, lazy, dragon.”

Spike began to slow, which made Rainbow slow in her flight behind him.

“Hmm. Fine!” Rainbow said, flying up so she was next to him. “Wanna throw in the towel? I won't sweat it, but you won't also get to be sweating later tonight.”

“Okay,” Spike said, slowing his pace further. Then his eyes went wide, and he sped up. “Wait, what!?”

Rainbow flew in closer, so much, that only a few inches separated their cheeks. “You finish this lap, Spike, and for one night only, I'll do as you command.”

Spike ran fast.

“Ack!” Spike wiggled his head against the train's floor, looking at the faces of the two that held him down. “How much do you two weigh? Let me go!”

They only thrust their hooves harder into his shoulders. “Just below the threshold of being called fat.”

Spike growled, kicking a foot upward, only for them to be out of reach. Then an idea sprang, which made him smile, as he lifted his tail.

The stallion to the left felt something tap his shoulder. He turned, saw a purple tail, then saw nothing as it slapped him across the face. He loosened his grip, a great mistake, as an elbow flew in his face next.

“I'm finding Dash!” Spike yelled, and with his now free arm, grabbed the other stallion by the neck. He pulled him off, at the expense of taking a punch to the snout, but was so kind as to replace the favor once he had the stallion pinned to the ground. He did the punch previous mentioned, and the stallion went still.

Spike tried to stand up, but his legs were too wobbly. He put his claws on the rest of a chair, slowly pushing himself up, despite the pain and the exhaustion. He rose, stumbling into place, but was proud enough to be standing before the last two guards. “Now then—“ he pointed an index finger at them “–you two are going to tell me everything about my ex-marefriend.”

“Oh, buddy.” The first (or would it be sixth?) stallion stepped forward, pulling a black baton from his vest. A metal cuff clipped onto his forehoof, the baton rotating in response to his movement. “You couldn't have taken longer to make a bad move. Sweet little Rody here's been waiting too long for this!”

He charged at Spike.

Spike laughed.

He stopped charging at Spike. “What's so funny?!”

“Rody, seriously?” Spike stopped laughing to wipe a tear from his eyes. “Out of all the names, that's the one you choose!?” Spike would have kept laughing had not the stick beat him up the head, repeatedly. “Ow ow ow! I'm sorry I'm sorry!”

“Tough!” The stallion rose the hoof up, and, because the mechanical arm, the baton went higher. It even caught in the light of the lamp, which helped the drake to see better, which also made him act faster, that act crossing his wrist over his head. The baton came down, hard, making the drake yelp as his claws slammed into the top of his head, and in the same movement, swayed the baton to the right of him, and in the movement afterward, slid his right arm along the length right into the face of the stallion. He threw himself forward, the momentum carrying in his arm, which he used to throw the stallion into the row of seats.

Spike rushed towards him, towering over the seat, but cried as the baton slammed against the side of his body. This repeated twice, until, finally, he thought it would be a good idea to block the attack with his wrist again. His wrists hated him for this, but he had to do what he had to do.

The attack smashed into his wrist, which, despite the pain, pushed the baton to the left, causing its owner to fly forward unbalanced. Spike didn't hesitate to grab the uplifted seat rest and make it uplifted no more—smashing it down on the stallion's head.

The stallion was out cold.

“Now then,” Spike said, stumbling back. He rested his back against the row of chairs, gazing at the last stallion. “To be honest with you, this is my first time in a legitimate fight, and I'm pretty sure I would have lost were it not for me being a dragon and all. So, seeing how it's only you and me, how about you tell me what you know about Rainbow, and I can get off this train and give her some very good news.”

The last stallion replied by pulling a katana out of his vest.

“Dude, that's totally unfair,” Spike whined. His head rolled back in exhaustion. “There should be no possible way you have that hidden on you this whole time. I mean, how did you go about walking without disemboweling yourself?”

“My honor protects me,” the last stallions replied, clicking the cuff to his hoof. A rotating sword, great. “Unlike you, bloodied and untamed, a soul that knows not of its own will!”

Then the crazy bastard came at him with a sword.

“What, you don't want these flanks?” Rainbow stuck out her tongue from up above the trail, apple trees flanking them both on either side. “Don't even try to deny it—I caught every glance you tried to steal at them!”

“D-Damn it!” Spike cried, shaking his claw. “I, thought, I was, being, sneaky!”

“Well, maybe if you weren't breathing so hard...”

“I'm running on burning lungs!”

“Yeah, whatever you say, cowboy.” Rainbow flew forward faster, making sure to keep her tail draped over her hindquarters. “Almost there. Just think of aaaaaall that yooooou can doooooo!”

“I. Hate. You!”

“You. Love. Me.”

Spike rolled his eyes. He really did.

 At the moment he had between life and death, Spike choose the former when he ripped a rest from a chair and held it before his face. The blade made contact—with the armrest and not his face. “A-Ah hah! Take that!”

The blade then slid through the improvised weapons, leaving him with two armrests. “Oh no.”

The stallion pulled back his hoof, tilted the blade so it caught a glint of light, then screamed and started widely slashed the sword forward.

“Mercy!” Spike swung his own weapons, which progressively got smaller with every cut, till he was holding nothing. He felt his back press against a wall, seats blocking his left and right, and some crazy fucker coming at him with a downward slash.

“I'm...I'm sorry Dash.” Spike slowed down at such a speed that he should just be walking, but instead, it looked like he was stumbling like a drunk as he jogged. “But I just can't do it. I wanna finish this, I wanna make you proud, but I just can't.”

“Oh,” said Dash, dipping her head in thought. She then looked back over the distance that separated them. 'So my flanks aren't a good enough motivator?”

“Trust me, they're perfect.” Spike looked down, breaking his promise. “But I'd probably be too scared to touch em anyway.”

Rainbow was disappointed. It was written over her face and the way how her body shifted in the air, but she somehow kept it from her voice. “It's okay, Spike, it's my fault for expecting so much out of you so soon. I should have—AH!”

Spike looked up in time to see Rainbow crash against a tall tree, a branch cracking, then another as he body fell downward. He lost his breath at the sight, a fire igniting in his heart as he barreled forward. The pain was intense, the fog in his mind thick, but pain and pleasure meant nothing in the face of seeing his friend in danger.

Rainbow smashed against the lowest branch, still a ten-foot drop to go, but she was too disjointed to stretch open her wings. She fell, expecting pain, but found only comfort in the arms of her lover. It took a moment for the world to unblur and stop moving, but when it did, she was looking up into the goofiest face she'd seen in her life.

Only it wasn't so goofy.

“Rainbow, are you alright!?” Spike cried. No, seriously, there were tears coming from his eyes. “Please tell me you're alright! No, we need to get you to the hospital right away!” He turned around, his mare carried bridal style in his arms, jogging back the way he came.

“Any, ah, anypony ever call you a worrywart before?” Rainbow joked weakly, letting her hooves and wings dangle from his grasp. “I'm fine you dork, now put me down.”

“Not until we get you checked out,” Spike said, looking down at his marefriend. Strands of her mane covered her left eye, the rest of her body covered in dirt, scratches, and cuts. “You can whine about how uncool this is or me being dumb, but I'm not letting you down until you say you feel better. And no lying!”

“Alright alright!” Rainbow giggled out, playfully batting a hoof. “Nopony comes this far out in the farm, so you can carry me for a little bit longer, since you seem to enjoy it so much, oh my sweet Romeo!”

Spike wanted to be mad, but he laughed instead.

If Rainbow was being honest, she was enjoying this much more than she let on. Through most of her life, she always had to be the strong one, the pegasus to lift other ponies and carry herself. It was a life of self-reliance, one she didn't regret, but the feelings of someone else carrying her to safety was more than welcomed.

Rainbow let her head fall against his chest, feeling the thin layer of muscle building in his pec. She giggled, enjoying the warmth of his body, as well as the prospect of getting him bigger so she had more to snuggle with. Spike wasn't perfect. He was a dragon weaker than some of the stallions she'd been with. Celestia warned her that she'd be getting a work in progress, but Rainbow couldn't be more thankful.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Rainbow said, drawing the drake's worried glance again. She giggled, delighting in how much he cared. “You see that white fence over there?”

Spike glanced over, saw it, then looked back at her. “Yeah, what about it? You're not hallucinating killer whales over there, are you?”

“No!' she said, playfully pushing at his jaw. Her head was still snug against his chest. “That's the finish line, you know, the one you were sure you wouldn't be able to cross.”

“Hey, you're right!” Spike said with glee. “I did it Rainbow. I did it!” He looked back down at her. “It's all because of you that I did it! Oh, wait.”

Rainbow giggled. “What's wrong?”

“I wasted any remaining energy to save you.”

A second later, they fell forward. Spike landed on his back, letting the mare splay herself over his chest, their muzzles touching. Rainbow reared her head up, giggling down at him as her face eclipsed the sun above.

Spike nervously chuckled to himself, cheeks warming at feeling every inch of her body against his. “So close and yet so far. Guess every time I got a good thing going I manage to screw it up huh?”

“It's why you're a dork,” Rainbow said, beaming down at him. “But no matter how much better you get, you'll always be my dork.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek, snuggling her head under his chin. “Just like how I'll always be your mare, no matter how many times you screw up.”

The sword came down on the drake, and, in response, he rose his wrist. He expected for them to be lopped off, not for the blade to get stuck an inch in his scales.

“A-ha! Scales beats sword!” Blood then began to leak profusely from his wound, which only increased when the blade tried to widget its way out. “Oh, crud.”

In his holy wisdom, Spike decided it would be a good idea to press down on the blade. This, of course, scared it the other stallion, who fell on his back while the drake cut the distance between them. The blade dug another inch, and while he wanted to cry, he didn't let on the agony he was bearing.

“Now, this can go two ways.” Spike hovered his head just above the stallion, using his pain to grin wickedly. “Either this blade cuts through my wrist, or I press down hard enough, and it goes through your head. Wanna chance it?”

The stallion cried, unclipping the grasp from his hoof.

Spike tore the sword from both the clasp and his wrist, using his other claw to hold the stallion down. “Now tell me about Dash!”

“W-We were paid by Rarity!” He cried out, trying to crawl back. The act was in vain. “We scouted every inch of Ponyville looking for the rainbow mare–nothing turned up! Our next goal was to take you, keep you safe, and search Cloudsdale for Rainbow.”

“Cloudsdale?”

“Said she was visiting a bar there!” The stallions said. “The break-up was harsh on her, so she wanted to revisit all the sights you went to when you stopped caring one day. All of these are the words of Rarity, honest!”

Spike nodded his head.

“I believe you.” He then whacked him with the butt of the sword, knocking him unconscious and tossing the blade away. Someone cried, and the drake tried not to pay that fact too much mind. “Issue is, it's well past afternoon, and this train isn't stopping anytime soon.”

'Holy crap Spike,' Greed said.

“I know.”

'No, you don't!' Greed said. 'These guys aren't just any goons if they're fighting like this. In fact, Rarity will kill you for what you've done here if they don't come back later for revenge. Quick, give in to your base desires to save yourself.'

“Nice try,” Spike chuckled, stumbling forward to the front cart. Every limb ached, his core was sore, and his head wouldn't stop ringing. He was missing a fair share of scales and blood, but despite the pain, the drake couldn't stop smirking. “I'm in enough trouble as is with my stupidity. Inviting you in will just make things worse.”

'Worse?' said Greed. 'Kid, you're stuck on a train with goons itching to kill you when they awaken. You wanna try worse? Stay the way you are now, and not even your scales will protect you.'

Spike opened the door to the conductor room, falling flat on his face. He groaned, not getting up at first. “And what? Turning into a beast will protect me from them?”

'Yeah. Kinda hard to kill a beast.'

“Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with no.” Spike pushed his claws against the ground, seeing blood splatter on the floor from his forehead. He sighed, stood up, and stumbled to the fire pit. “Destroying my home and possibly hurting my friends is much worse than being killed myself.”

'So what are you going to do then, huh!?' Greed said, his voice growing quicker. 'Talk a big game, like you do everypony else until reality hits you with a stick again? Pretend you know better just to get out of trouble? Giving into me may give you wings at least to fly away, perhaps an actual chance at saving your girl!'

“Spike?”

“Yeah?'

“Am I heavy?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, I just ran a marathon.”

“Uh, right. Spike?”

“Yes?”

“Even if I was heavy, would you tell me?”

“Probably.”

“Ah.”

“But I wouldn't want you to get off.”

“What? Why's that?'

“Because I like how you feel.”

“Spike?'

“Yeah?”

“We're going to have to work on your smooth talk.”

“Add it to the list.”

Spike looked at the shaft for the brake, but when he went to pull it, he saw out the window that they were on a ramp winding upward. The ground was far below, and there wasn't any land to be anywhere nearby. He pulled his claw back from the brake. “Well, there goes that hope.”

'There goes all your hope!' Greed said. 'Now, will you take out that vialand drink what's left? It should still be enough to get you out of this mess, or at least to see higher reason.'

Spike pulled out the vial from his pocket, gazing inside the glass.

“Spike?”

“Yes.”

“You're a weird dragon.”

“Yes.”

“And I think you try to avoid it by being something else.”

“Oh Celestia yes.'

“I like you, and I like how weird you are.”

“And I've still yet to figure out why.”

“I want you to make me a promise.”

“What is it?”

“Never stop being you and never stop being weird, and just like today, don't let the impossible stop you from doing the possible.”

Spike felt a fire start in his chest and energy spread throughout his limbs. His eyes opened, glinting in the light, as he stole a grin from the mare he loved most. “That's right. Now we're rocking!”

'Rocking?'

Spike threw back the door to the fire, grinning in delight as the wave of heat. “This whole time, I've been holding myself back. Hating myself for being weird, for being so weak, but that's what makes me unique, that's what makes me incomplete!”

'What are you going on about?' Greed said, then saw the drake tossing the vial up and down. 'Wait, what are you doing!?'

“This weirdness and absurdity is my identity! Not something to run away from!” Spike tossed the last hope of being like he once was into the fire of the train, feeling the train roar and shake from the raw input of energy. “Being weak isn't a crime, just flaws to be overcome! From now on, the impossible won't stop me from doing the possible!”

'You moron!'

“Loudly and proudly!”

Then, something unexpected happened, though now it should be expected since I warned you something would be coming up. From inside the pits of fire, a lavender aurora shot outward from the depths, streaming down the train from the inside and out. The wheels of the train squeaked, catching at speeds they weren't built for, but luckily, they wouldn't have to be working out their quota.

'I don't believe it.'

“Well, I do!” Spike cheered, throwing his head out the window. The train was lifting off the tracks, beginning to climb higher and higher in the air. “A flying train! I always wanted one when I was a kid!”

'You've got to be kidding me!'

“Not one bit!' Spike took hold of the chains above his head, one left and one right, letting him fly the train. He pulled left, intent for a distant floating city. “There's no escaping the absurd with me, so might as well embrace it and use it for my gain!”

Spike laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Now then,” Spike said, pulling the horn of the train. “Next stop, to find Rainbow Dash in Cloudsdale!”





Canterlot is a royal city and all that. White marble roads and an even whiter castle. The place was predominantly filled with ponies—unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies—and not so much with griffons—griffins, griffons, gryphons—so this had Twilight confused.

“I am confused,” Twilight said, cantering through the streets of the second district. All the shops had their drapes drawn, doors locked, with only griffons (or whatever your preferred spelling) patrolling the streets. “Where is everypony?”

“Halt!”

Twilight stopped walking, and with good timing too, as four griffons appeared before he with polearms aimed at her face. More and more of them began to surround her, and that's when Twilight realized why none of the ponies were coming outside.

“You are Princess Twilight, are you not?”

“Uh.” Twilight backed a step. “If I am, does that entail me to being brutally stabbed?”

“No,” came a voice behind the pack, which made way for the newcomer. It was a griffon, taller than them all, feathers alabaster and beak golden. “My name is Missy, and you will be following us to the rest of your royalty, that is, unless, you want to break all negations between our nations?”

Twilight sighed. “Don't tell me...was Spike already here?”

“Spike?”

“Purple dragon. Same height as me?”

“No,” he said. “I believe the dragons are waiting for a war to break out between us and wiping out whoever remains. So we have a year or so before they show up.”

Twilight tried to back away further, only to walk into the griffons that guarded her flank. Heh. Flank. “Look, I'm sure whatever is happening here is super important, and the real princesses already have it on lockdown. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a missing friend that I really need to find.”

Missy stepped forward, pulling a sword from the sheath hanging on her hips, before pointing the blade directly into the princess's face. “A lot more ponies will go missing if you do not follow me to the courtroom. Your substitute princess declared war on us in the first place, so you should be grateful we're even willing to call it off.”

Missy stepped aside, nodding her head to the right. “Now get moving!”

“So this is Spike's fault after all,” Twilight sighed, rolling her eyes as she began forward. “Hope you have better luck than I do, bro.” The guards walked in formation all around her, leaving for no escape. She looked up to the sun, watching it inch north. “Really better luck.”





FLYING TRAINS?

“You bet so! It was awesome.”

Death put the palm of his hands to his forehead. JUST WHAT KIND OF DRAGON ARE YOU? THESE REPORTS ARE MEANT TO KEEP MURDER FORMAL AND EVEN THE MOST HASTILY WARS WELL STRUCTURED, BUT THIS?

“Doesn't make much sense, right?” Spike couldn't help but laugh, enjoying the memories. “I'm telling you, absurdity tends to follow me wherever I go. Just made sense to stop fighting and accept it, and to be honest, life got a whole lot better afterward.”

SO THAT VIAL?

“Probably some strange fuel, to be honest with you.” Spike tilted his head in thought. “A good idea that I didn't drink any of it—must have grabbed the wrong vial by mistake. If an iota of that liquid was enough to make a train fly, could you imagine what the full content would have done to me?”

MAKE MY LIFE EASIER?

“Yeah.”

I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU'RE HERE, OR WHY SO MANY TIMERS ARE NEARING THEIR END, OR WHERE THIS RAINBOW DASH IS. ARE WE NEARING THE END OF THIS TALE?

“Getting there.”

Death sighed. SO CLOUDSDALE? YOU HAVE BEEN THERE BEFORE.

“Once when I stopped caring.”

SO WHAT HAPPENED THERE.

Spike blew through his lips, sitting back. “A lot of weird stuff.”

Death couldn't narrow his eyes, so he increased the intensity of his glowing blue eyes. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WEIRD STUFF!?




“Oh! How ravishing this painting is that touches the black hole in my heart!” The white Pegasus flared out his primaries in excitement, his blond mane swaying in the air. He even had a beard for some odd reason—it was also blond. “ Us, who are dammed to be artist and comedians, even worse, funny artist, fall to our knees in understanding of this painting!”

The pegasus looked right. “You there, dragon, I will know your deepest depth from just your reaction alone to what stands before you!”

Spike looked at the painting. It was a yellow smiley face on a white canvas, but for whatever reason, there was a frown below the smile. It appeared to be a colt's attempt at duality. “Meh. Seems kinda useless to me.”

“Yes, I understand you!” The pegasus threw himself at the drake with open arms, hugging the stranger with the love of a brother. “All art is quite useless indeed, yet we continue to make and enjoy it, because, in the end, isn't our existence just as useless? It's absurd to enjoy either, and yet, here we are.”

Spike glared at him, then scrunched up his face, shrugged his shoulders, and return the embrace. It lasted a short time. Then the pegasus broke it.

“From the moment I picked up a brush I knew of this duality, so my first work was to cross out the name my parents gave me and invent a new one for myself!”

Spike turned to the stallion, who continued down the long hall of the museum. “And that is?”

“Art, old chap.” The stallion nodded forward. “But you can call me useless—defines my life, really.”

Spike began to jog forward, catching up to the stallion. “So listen—“ a painting caught his attention as she slowed down next to Useless “—hey wait what is that?”

“That?” Useless admired the passing painting. “That's a penguin with chapped lips, but the painting itself is called Chapped Penguin Lips.”

“I...see.” Spike began walking at the same pace as Useless. “Right, about why I'm here, do you—what's that painting of!?”
Useless looked left. “A mass murderer from older times. Ponies called him Jack the Ripper—he died when he was ninety-nine.”

“Uh-huh, so about my friend—why is there a hole in the ceiling?”

Useless looked up. “Oh, that.” He rolled his eyes. “Some twerp came in here weeks ago and used one of the catapults we had on display! Apparently, it flung him all the way to Canterlot, but broke the blasted thing because of it!” He sighed. “The princess was kind enough to cover the cost of all damages, but it still makes my blood boil at such callousness!”

Spike chuckled, nervously.

“I swear, if I ever saw that twerp again, I'd kill him!” Useless stopped before the next exhibit. “Especially if he caused damage to my precious home once more.” Useless looked at the next piece, blinking and recoiling his head. “My my, I don't quite recall this ever being here!”

Spike caught up again, though he wished he hadn't it.

Useless stood before a white wall. Now, most patrons would ponder the complexity about whiteness, if it was really white or if their eyes were deceiving them, but this wall was far more special than that—it was missing a chunk, and in that chuck, was the front half of a black train.

Duality struck again.

“Aw crud, so that's where I parked it.'

Useless glanced at him. “Parked?”

“I mean my newest piece!” Spike coughed into his claw, spinning around and raising a claw as though he were giving a presentation. “I call it the train tracks to heaven!”

“My my. How profound!”

“...really?”

“Honey, where to begin! This is symbolism at its finest!” He approached the drake, gesturing to the crashed train. “The absurdity of a train here captures the dilemma of your duality, a bizarre soul cast into the mundane! This wall, of fine material for an even finer place, broken through the force of your will. How heart capturing!”

“Yeah.” Spike blinked, wondering if he could take lessons from Useless. He was adept at pulling reasons from his butt when the time called for it, but never had he been able to reach in so deep. “So you're not mad if I, uh, leave this here for a while?”

“Not at all!” Useless bowed. “In fact, I'm honored to have the work of a dragon in our midst. Makes up for that other dragon that broke our catapulted.”

The urge to tell the truth is strong even in the most seasoned liars. Lying was always the preferred option—it paved easier grounds and told more interesting stories—but it always came at a cost. While telling the truth made most feel like crap, it also filled them with something, while telling lies only drained and made the user sound all the more hollow.

'Had you drank that vial,' said Greed, ' You could invent some funny retort and get yourself outta this.'

“That's why I'm glad I didn't.”

“Didn't what?”

Spike sighed. “Look, Useless, there's something I've gotta tell you.'

“Hmm?”

“I'm the twerp that broke that catapult.” Spike didn't break eye contact with the pegasus, even when the latter lit up in surprise. “I'd stop caring for a day and decided it would be okay to do whatever I pleased. Apparently, I also didn't care about the ramification of my actions, which has resulted in hurt friends and broken contraptions.”

Useless glared at him.

Spike bowed. “I'm sorry. I know all my damages were covered with bits, but that doesn't make anything better. I have to start taking responsibility for my own actions, and I have to be the one to make things right—because I'm family of Royalty doesn't mean I can escape accountability.”

Spike waited. He waited and waited. He waited some more, but in the absence of sound and movement arose curiosity, making him glance up. Useless was looking at him with one of that expression that made him seem deep in thought.

“These words, they are the absolute truth?”

“Truth?” Spike thought about it, then shook his head. “Can't be sure. They're honest, though.”

Useless scrunched his face—he must have started thinking harder.

“All the grief you've caused has caused you pain?”

“More than you can know.”

“And you used that pain to crash that train into my museum.”

“I, uh...yes.”

“I could not be more proud!” In a flash, they were hugging again. “You truly an artist at heart, scaly one! Using your fear and your pain to move forward, and to paint the way there for those behind you!”

Useless kissed him on the cheek, before stepping back. “You are forgiven my brother, so long as you keep using that pain to create lessons.”

“T-Thank you then, I guess.” Spike blinked, unsure of what he was supposed to feel at the moment. It seemed he had found someone weirder than him, and for whatever reason, that did not weird him out in the slightest. “So, what about the wall and ceiling then? Want me to come back later to help rebuild?”

“Not at all!” Useless said, walking backward under his body was caught in a halo of light. “The biggest defect of this place is the absence of windows, all light here is artificial—“ he looked at a nearby painting of a carapace “–among other things.”

Spike scratched his head.

“I've been trapped in this place for many years, too scared to go outside!” Useless closed his eyes and relished in the warmth of right, as opposed to the coldness he felt anywhere else—duality once more, motherfucker. “So to have light, real sunlight, I couldn't be more grateful more for your accident.”

“Not only that,” Spike said, coming into the light and pointing a talon up, “but the hole in the wall is art itself, of no matter how thick our scales or walls are, we should always open a small part of ourselves to let in the evening light.”

“Oh!” Useless began to cry. “How I love you!'

Useless kissed him on the cheek again. Spike was proud, to be able to pull something deep out of his butt without it being a lie, as well as to check between his legs, and seeing nothing popping out.

“Yes!” Spike cried, kissing Useless on the cheek as well. “I can say I love you like a brother without being worried!” He shook his head then grabbed his newfound friend by the shoulders. “Now tell me, has a rainbow mane pegasus come through here?”

“Is she a seven out of ten?'

“Well, she's a ten out of ten on my scale.”

“I see. Let me try this again.” Useless cleared his throat. “Is she an eight out of ten on the narcissism scale?”

Spike clapped his claws. “Yes! That's her!” He let go of his friend to slap himself. “I'm her supply, we were made for each other!”

“Then I have seen this mare.” Useless pointed to the other side of the hall, where a hole—tiny this time around—was in the wall. “She crashed in here this morning!'

“Oh no!' Spike gripped the side of his face. “Was she okay?”

“That hole has nothing to with her—just a couple of drunk sadly mistaken.” He pointed his hoof lower, where there was a bench with a sign that read 'please don't sit on me—I'm a work of art!' “She crashed on that for a few hours at sunrise, but I kicked her out shortly afterward. Seemed interested in that catapult you destroyed.”

“Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No, only that, after work, she would open up a better museum then this one.” Useless narrowed his eyes in thought. “Something about fewer paintings and more race tracks.”

“Her job!” Spike threw a fist up in the air. “She may be lazy, but she would never leave her co-workers hanging!”

He sprinted for, then through, and then out the front door.

“Wait!” called out Useless from just behind the opened doors. “Don't you want to listen to the complex and emotionally devastating reason why I've locked myself inside here for all these years.”

Spike looked over his shoulder.

“I promise to come back with tea!” he shouted back, disappearing over the horizon. “You can tell me then. I promise I will listen.”





“Oh, crud.”

HMM? Death pulled back from his paper, admiring his neat handing writing. Every letter was as thin as his figure. WHAT'S THE MATTER?

“I totally forgot to go back and listen to that guy.”

YOU STILL CAN. Death scratched the back of his rope. YOU ARE A VERY STRANGE CREATURE WITH A STRANGER TALE, AND EVEN THOUGH SOME FIBER OF MY BEING STILL DESPISES YOU, I CAN'T BRING MYSELF TO WANT TO KILL YOU.

“Is...is that a compliment?”

YOU MAY TAKE IT AS YOU WISH, said Death. MORE THAN LIKELY, YOU WILL BE WALKING OUT OF THIS ALIVE.

Spike chuckled, letting his eyes fall downward. He exuded a bittersweet aura. “Not if our deal goes well.”

Death would have raised a brow if he had one.





“Sorry, but she left us hanging.”

Spike groaned.

“Well, okay, it's not like she left us hanging per say.” The pony behind the desk tilted her head in thought—it seemed like a trend around these parts. “More like she informed us we would be hanging for a few days, which, now that I think about, isn't as bad as I made it sound to be.”

“What did she look like when she came in?” Spike put his claws down on the table of the desk, starling the pegasus behind it. “Did she say where she was going!?”

“Easy guy, relax!” The mare put her forehooves on the desk as well. Now both of them were touching the desk menacingly–they were lucky the desk didn't have feelings. “She looked like she spent the night sleeping outside again, probably caught a cold and wanted a few days off.”

“So she didn't tell you why?!”

“No!” The pegasus rose from her seat. “Why do you want to know about her anyway...wait a minute, what are you again?”

“Are you being speciest?”

“What? No! Fine, give me your name then.”

“Spike.”

“Spike what? It's a trend for ponies to have two names that either rhyme or encompass their personality.”

“Spike the dragon.”

“Ah-ha! It is you.” The pegasus slammed a big red button, and just like that, metal shutters slammed down by the nearby windows. A siren rang, distant hoof-steps were loud, and ponies (all female) flooded into the room. “You're the heartbreaker!”

“What no!”

It was no use. The mares were upon him. They had wings, making them more dangerous than normal mares as they shot themselves like bullets at the drake. He shielded himself by waving his claws in surrender, but soon their collective weight pinned him to the ground.

The head pegasus left her desk, circling the pile. Some mares whacked Spike with their hooves repeatedly. “You've got a lot of gut showing your face around here, hurting our poor Dash. She doesn't just open her heart to anyone, you know!”

“She doesn't?” A slap to the face made Spike see the error of his words. “I mean she doesn't she doesn't! It's why I came to see her today!”

“Why? So you could hurt her so more!” a mare lower down his body said, diving her elbow into his shin. He yelped—these girls hurt more than the trained guards.

“Not at all! I wanted to tell her breaking up was a mistake!”

The mares froze in place, letting the news settle in their heads. They didn't let the drake go, huddling over his body and speaking in a hushed whisper. Spike couldn't make out what they were saying, only panting from the pain. Never before had he amass a pile of mares atop his body, and came to hate himself for not enjoying the sensation. Through their bodies, he glanced down between his legs.

“Oh c'mon!” Spike cried under his breath, face becoming depressed.

The mares broke away. The leader spoke. “Rainbow said that you were the ones to call things off...why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because she was perfect and I wasn't, so I broke up with her so I wouldn't drag her down!” Spike wiggled his body forward, trying to break free from their weight. “Then I realized that there was no such thing as perfect, which with progress, I could become the dragon she saw me as. It's too late to get back together, but I can at least make things right!”

The mares stared at him with suspicion. Some stepped off him, but not without digging their hind legs into his back for the trouble.

“If not that,” Spike continued, eyes pleading to all that saw into them, “at least to tell her about the promotion she has—“

“Do not trust him, sisters!”

Everyone gasped, including Spike, as a newcomer entered the room. She had a cyan coat with a rainbow mane, walking with confidence despite her diminutive stature. Some even bowed their heads in the presence of greatness, but only one spoke up against it.

“Wait a sec,” Spike said, eyes narrowing. “You're not Rainbow Dash!” His eyes narrowed.

“That I am not!” The cyan mare brought a hoof to her mane, whisking it off and tossing it aside. Snowy blue hair puffy up, spiky along its fringes. “The name's Cloudkicker, and you won't be seeing my friend Rainbow Dash again.”

“What?” Spike said, voice turning into a whine. “But why?!”

“Rarity warned me you were full of tricks. Seeing you here is proof of that alone.” Cloudchaser strolled to the fallen drake, glaring down at his figure. “You hurt my friend more than you could have, and this act of wanting to do right won't get by me. Rarity was right to send you away.”

“It's not like that at all!” Spike groaned as he tried to move his arms, feeling them still pinned. “Rarity tricked me. She tricked you! That letter needs to get to Rainbow before the end of the day.”

“I assure you, it already has.” Cloudkicker stood above his head, Leaning down to him. “Rarity had her guard search here and Ponyville, I'm sure they've already informed her by now.”

“Oh yeah!” Spike looked to the pegasus he'd been dealing with earlier. “If that's the case, then have any of those guards come here to check up on the mare. To find her location?”

The pegasus gulped as all eyes were on her. “H-He's right. Spike's the only one to ask.”

“It's because none of them made it here!” Spike struggled more and more, some of the mares shifting atop his body. “They locked me on a train, and I had to fight them all even to get here.”

“Speaking of which, how did you even get here?”

“...flying train.” Spike sighed, stopping. “Used a vial that gave it enough power and magic to fly, as well as me to walk on clouds. A little too convenient for my taste, but hey, it works.”

“See sisters!” Cloudchaser stood before the pack, gesturing a hoof at the sight. “This is what Rarity warned us about—absurd lies to garner our pity. Rainbow is probably safe at home, already having accepted the promotion of her dreams and gotten her mind of this little twerp, and now he wants to move forward and ruin all that she has worked to acquire.”

“That's not how it is at all!” Spike took a moment to reflect on the words. “Mostly!”

“So I say we keep him here, locked away from doing harm.” Cloudchaser turned around, grinning at him. “See if we can inflict the same pain he gave our dear Rainbow Dash!”

There was a chorus of cheers and only one voice that cried. After, the rest of the mares began to creep towards the drake.

'See, I know I like to pop in at bad times, but that's kinda my shtick, y'know?' Greed said, popping in at a bad time. 'You're under a lot of stress, have more of a reason to make a life-long decision, and, if I may add, the sound of my own voice is rather handsome.'

“I hate you.”

“See, sisters!” Cloudchaser cried. “He hates anyone who wishes better for Dash!”

“Wait, no—oh what's the point.”

'There's a point in giving into your greed, get you out of this building—'

“I would just tear through the building.”

“You hear that girls. He says he's going to tear through our—“

“Oh forget this!” Spike roared. The sound, the raw pitch and ferocity was enough to cause all the mares to lift their hooves to their ears, groaning in response. Spike shook his arms and legs, throwing everyone off him as he threw himself up. “See what happens when you mess with a dragon? You deal with his primal nature!”

“Ow! Why is your primal nature so high pitch!?”

“Yeah that's right, fear me like the—what now?”

Another mare spoke. “I have two fillies, and neither of them screeched that loud.”

“Is...is my roar really that feminine?”

They all nodded in agreement. Then someone said, “We almost mistook you for a female dragon.”

“Oh come on!” Spike glanced between his legs. “This really is not helping my present situation!””

Another thing not helping his present situation was the mare recovering from his 'roar.' Most reared up on their hind legs, raising their forelegs, ready for a fight.

“One way or another, I'm getting to Rainbow Dash.” Spike raised his own fists as well, not caring at how ridiculously outnumbered he was. “Before I would have been too scared to admit what I felt about her, about how much of an idiot I am, or even to fight my way out of a full factory. I'm still trembling on the inside, but nothing is going to stop me from making sure Rainbow is okay.”

“You're all talk.” Cloudchaser stood in front of the mares, gesturing to herself with a hoof. “Now show me some action!”

Spike charged at her.

Cloudchaser charged at Spike.

Then Spike let out a roar and ran out the back door.

“Ow! Y-You coward!” Cloudchaser covered her ears, the ringing never ceasing. “G-Get back here a-and fight us!”

“Are you kidding!”Spike slammed the door behind him, then tearing off the handle. “I can't punch a mare! Twilight or Rainbow would kill me!”

Spike stepped back, looking right and left. He was in a long, tight hallway, neither way implying where they went. He walked a bit left, then walked a bit right, then walked left again and then—

“Get after him!” a voice cried from behind a door, many thuds soon following. “He must not be allowed to escape. Seal all the entrances!”

Spike ran down the hallway, occasionally blinded by the red light on the ceiling, each one emitting a repeating beep. He looked over his shoulder: the mares had busted through the door and were now galloping towards him. He yelped, pushing himself to run faster.”

“Oh no, you don't!” Spike glanced back to see a tall mare pick up a smaller one with her forehoof, cock her back in the air, then throw her forward like a speeding bullet. He cried, ducking just in time as the mare threw over his head, then jumped left when one shot past his right, then jumped right when spot past his left.

“Hah!” Spike laughed back at them, only to see the tall mare grinning back. He looked forward and cried: the pegasi had turned themselves around and were now shooting back towards him, together in a formation he couldn't avoid. “I'm sorry I'm sorry!”

His apologies fell on deaf ears—cutting winds were louder than his voice. He shielded his face, saw something that made him laugh, and then he took a hard right into the next corridor. Behind them, the mares tried to flap their wings backward; a vain act as they crashed into the rest of the convoy.

Spike chuckled at the commotion, looking forward to another group of mares at the end of the corridor. He skidded to a stop, looking back to see more mares flood from which he came, sandwiching him. Both sides galloped towards him, leaving him precious seconds to act.

He caught his reflection in the window to the right of him.

'Narcissism at a time like this?' said Greed. 'You and Rainbow really were meant for each other.'

Spike punched the window, shattering a hole in the glass. Shards fell from the impact along with his wrist, few digging into his exposed flesh from the previous encounter. This made the drake wince, closing his eyes as he pulled back his wrist, then shoving his claw through the glass once again. More of the panel gave away, but the corners were still razor sharp.

“Converge!” Cloudkicker called from the back of the hall. “You've got him, girls!”

“Well,” Spike said, taking a few steps back, seeing both groups in his peripheral vision. “Here goes nothing!” He bolted forward, catching speed before leaping, throwing his body against the reaming glass and breaking through to the other side. He cried while in the air, blood trickling from his eye, neck, and the back of his heel. Air rushed past him as he fell, which was also knocked out of his lungs as she smashed against a metal platform.

Spike groaned, feeling his claw on the surface. His body was already aching from the train-ride, and now, it had been pushed to his limit. He pushed his claws against the ground, slowly raising his upper body, the rest of his body following suit—and then his muscles failed him and he dropped to the ground.

“He's on the lower level!” Cloudchaser's voice rang from the window he had jumped, igniting a spark of fear in the drake's heart. “First group, make sure the doors are locked. Second group, follow me to the control room!”

'About my deal,' Greed wormed his way back in, 'did I mention it alleviates all pain? Those likely broken limbs and deep cuts? All washed away with pleasure if you just consent to one little contract.'

“Yeah, losing who I am just to acquire my desires.” Spike pushed against the ground again, growling at his arms as his body began to lift. He could feel his muscles tearing, joints begging for respite, unsure they could much less walk their owner out of here. “Just become a mindless beast set out on taking whatever he wants.” He rose to his knees. “Newsflash Greed, if I wasn't willing to stop caring again, then what makes you think I'd take you up?”

'Because you're pushing yourself too hard,' Greed replied as his voice grew distant. 'You've grown, seeing that there's more to you than you thought, but that's still not enough to get you through this alone. You're suffering too much for the sake of somepony else, not because of something you want, and sooner or later, if it isn't your desire that breaks you, it will be your exhaustion.'

Spike pushed off his knees, standing to his full height. He did his best not to sway.

“We'll see about that.” He stepped forward, crying out as blood sprayed out from his heel, falling onto the metal railing and holding it for support. He was treated to the sight of massive vats looming below, each filled with a color of the rainbow, boiling from whatever heat was even further below.

“Why hello my dear Spike!” the voice of Cloudchaser buzzed from the above intercoms, making the drake in question look up. He limped across the narrow platform. “I see you've made it to where the magic happens, though you've broken a fair amount of rules. Good thing we have pest control!”

Something creaked. Spike looked behind him, seeing the wires unfurl from the platform behind him as it then plummeted to whatever loomed below. He cursed under his breath, looking back up. “Are you crazy!?”

“Not at all!” the buzz of the intercom replied, and a second later, the wires began to unfurl from the platform Spike was one. He clenched his eyes, limping faster on his bleeding heel. “Just an honest employee dealing with a contamination problem is all!”

Spike made it to the next platform, the suction of the falling platform pulling him back. As he flew back, he shot a claw forward and grabbed the railing, using that to throw himself forward into the air. He landed with another cry, his whole body drained of energy, even more so upon the sound of wire unfurling. “Oh c'mon!”

“Ain't no rest for the wicked, honey.”

Spike crawled forward, shifting with every subtle sway of the platform, doing his best not to look through the hole before his face. Every creak was a stab to the heart, a sway speaking of the end, but by through this fear, the drake found himself closer to the main platform.

Then his platform fell
“AHH!” Spike felt air rushing past his as his heavy body suddenly went light, the pull of gravity pulling him below to the great oblivion. He cried, flailing his arms, feeling his claw grab the ledge of the main platform. His body swung forward and slammed into a wall of metal, making the pain go from bad to worse, almost letting go out of instinct alone. “Just what kinda workplace is this?!”

He tried pulling himself up, only drop back and slide off an inch. His breath caught in his throat; he was too weak to save himself. “So this is how it ends?” he said, just hanging there. “Making it this far just to fail in the end? Should have expected something like that from me.”

Spike closed his eyes, ignoring every sensation he felt as he took a deep breath. A strange peace washed over him, like this was as far as he was meant to reach, and even being able to do so was a milestone for him. There was a lot he could do for others, but when it came down to when it mattered most, he never had the strength to save himself—it was always Rainbow or Twilight that had to save them all.

“Rainbow...” Spike opened his eyes, the aura of peace still upon him. He blinked, becoming repulsed by the sensation. “...what...is it...you always used to say?” he threw his over claw up, taking hold of the ledge. “...never...let...the impossible...stop you...from doing...the possible!” Spike roared into the air as she pulled himself up, the terrible sensation deepening as he beared more of the pain, just enough for him to throw a leg up onto the platform, and from there, roll over to safety.

Spike fell onto his back, panting in place with his eyes wide. He stayed like this, hearing the distant sound of metal clattering, bursting into laughter for no particular reason. “A-ha! You...think that's enough to stop me!?”

He rolled onto his front, pushing himself back up until he was standing again. “Rainbow is the reason why I'm doing all this!” He stumbled in place, then, began forward. “I don't care how much you hurt me, or what my limitations stop me from doing—nothing is getting in my way of finding her!”

“How noble.” Spike heard the sound of a crane moving, and before he could hope to look up, felt a heavy liquid pouring over him. A black claudon was tilted over his head, pouring blue all over his figure. “But let's see how you react to this!”

In a few seconds, Spike was covered shoulders to feet in the liquid. He laughed. “What? Paint is your big plan?” He tried to move forward and was confused when he couldn't. “Wait a sec, what's the big idea?!”

“That,” the voice began over the intercom, but a few seconds later, something landed on the square platform, continuing the speech, “is the stuff rainbows are made from.” Cloudchaser stepped forward into the center of the platform, smiling at the struggling dragon. “It solidifies in the open air. Tell me for reference: how heavy does it feel?”

Spike glared at her. “Why are you doing this? What do you have against me!?”

“You hurt my friend!” she replied in a tone just as harsh. “Rainbow is the mare that got me this job, who kept loyal to me even though I was a screw up for the first month. She listened to my pains and had my back no matter what, and now I'm only repaying the favor!”

“Yeah, by letting her remain missing!” Spike fought harder against his restraints. “Why can't you let Rainbow decide for herself what she wants to do with me? Real friend you are, making her choices for her!”

“It's because she's vulnerable, you idiot!” Cloudchaser flew at him, digging her muzzle against his. “Rainbow isn't exactly an open book to most, including her own friends! So when some drake, one that she likes and is trying her best to improve, dumps her after a wonderful date because he believes she chose wrong, that she's too good for him, how do you think that's going to make her feel.”

“I...”

“Rainbow loves being special! It's why she works so hard.” Cloudchaser turned around, showing him her back as she dipped her head. “She's had to do a lot to become the mare she is now, but because of that, now she's too special to be loved by ordinary folk.”

“I didn't mean it like that!”

“Well, how did you mean it!” Cloudchaser whipped around. “Because there weren't many ways for her to take it! She's not one to sweat the small stuff, but when it's coming from the partner she showed her deepest self too...” she shook her head. “You disgust me!”

“That's it!” Spike used the anger he felt, this utter hatred of himself to build a fire in his core and expel it through his mouth, blowing flames over the liquid bounding him. It caught aflame immediately. “I've going to make things right!”

“You idiot! That's highly flammable!”

“I know,” Spike said coldly, feeling the liquid burn away as he could now stand straight. His body was in the center of a ball of flame, yet he kept staring at the mare unfazed. “No fire, no matter how hot, is going to stop me. And besides, dragon's are fireproof!'

“Yeah, because they have scales. What about the parts of you that are exposed?”

“Oh right.” Then Spike screamed like a girl and ran back in forth in place. After a few moments, he dropped to the ground, rolled about, and sooner or later the flames were out. “Ow ow ow ow ow!”

Cloudchaser rolled her eyes, rearing on her hind legs. By the time the drake was standing again, she'd ready her forehooves again. “I've had enough of your ingenuous talk!”

“I'm being completely genuine!” Spike said, stepping towards her with raised claws. “I may have been an idiot, but everything I've told you has been my honest feelings, and I will make things right.” He dropped his claws. “But I won't accomplish that by fighting you.”

“Do you think I'll let you leave, just like that?”

“No,” Spike said. “But I'm prepared to take every hit—I deserve it after what I did to Rainbow.”

“Will you quit it!”

She threw her right hoof at him, yelping as he stepped out of the way. Stumbling a few steps forward, she whipped around and glared at him. “What the hell!?”

“Sorry,” he said, standing perfectly still. “Instincts. Try again.”

She tired again. He moved out the way.

“Now you're just playing with me!”

“I can't help it!” Spike cocked a fist to his right cheek. “Would it help if I punched myself?”

Spike punched himself with a force he did not intend, stumbling back a few steps. “T-There! Happy?”

“No!” Cloudkicker lunged at him again with her right hoof cocked, but when he stumbled to the left, she smiled, raising instead her left hind leg and kicking him to the side. He cried, stumbling forward—right into her cocked hoof. “Bah! Ah-ha! How'd you like the taste of that?”

Spike stumbled backward, grabbing onto a railing for support. When he looked back up, all he saw was flying kick directed towards his face. There was a loud crack, a louder cry, the sound of air whipping, and then, a thud.

Cloudchaser landed, laughing. She swaggered forward. “Ready to surrender?”

Spike responded by pushing off the ground again, slowly rising to his feet.

“You can take a beating, that's for sure.” She lunged at him before he could fully rise. “But you didn't have to work to earn those scales!” Her hoof flew at his face, but she was the one to yelp as both his claws caught her arm.

“I did!” He growled, pushing her forward a step. “You don't think a dragon doesn't get strange looks living in pony society? That he doesn't hear what they whisperabout him? You ponies are far kinder than my own kind, but not all of you.”

“You've got strength,” Cloudchaser admired with a smirk, before ducking under her own arm, bringing her free forehoof into his neck and sweeping his legs with her hind leg. He yelped, letting her go, before being slammed into the floor. “But it's nothing compared to the technique I had to work to learn.” She circled around his fallen form. “Face it, dragon, either you have to fight me or admit defeat.”

She stepped back, allowing him the space to stand. She had her forehooves up again, grinning in anticipation and growing wider when he raised his claws.

Spike laughed, dropping his claws. “Sorry, but Rainbow said if I don't like the cards someone else has dealt, to reshuffle the deck.” He cracked his neck. “And it's a rule of mine to never hurt my friends, not if I can help it.”

“You slimy ball of scales!” Cloudchaser dashed at him, jabbing her forehooves forward in blind fury. “You dare insinuate we're even remotely close to friends?!” Her jabs were directed off course by the back of his claw —his longer and skinnier arms made him quicker than her. “That you haven't hurt Rainbow!?”

“I didn't say that!” Spike said, so caught up in the thought that a few jabs connected to his stomach. He lost the air in his lungs and heard another crack, but kept his efforts up. “My insecurity hurt Rainbow, no denying that! But my stupidity kept me from seeing how that hurt her—I wouldn't have broken up with her if I knew it would have gotten this bad, that it was possible for me to become the dragon she wanted me to be!”

“Oh yeah!” Cloudchaser spun around and aimed her leg at his head, Spike ducking just in time to the attack, then again and again. “Just what kind of dragon did she see you as? One that rampages through the place that's supposed to be his home!?”

“I would have once agreed with you!” Spike caught her leg in the air, stopping her in place. “That incident left me in a funk that lasted for weeks—I even thought about killing myself, so I could never hurt my friends again!”

Cloudchaser kicked her trapped leg, breaking out of his grasp and falling on all fours. She panted, keeping still. “And...and why didn't you?”

“Because Rainbow showed me that I was better than that.” Spike looked away as the memory stole him—opening him for an attack, though the mare kept still. “She caught wind of the idea through my diary, trying to find where I hid my copy of an unreleased Daring Do novel. I never planned on telling anypony about my feelings, but she stopped me in the middle of my chores and locked us in our bedroom.”

“What...what could she have possibly told you that made you believe you weren't harmful.”

Spike sighed, lowering his head. “She told me nothing. She showed me.”

Cloudchaser felt something sprang in her heat, a feeling of remorse that stabbed at her ego. Anger faded from her face, and for a moment, she even began forward.

'Our Spike is crafty in telling stories,” Rarity had said to her. “He'll tell you any sob story to get you on his side. You mustn't buy it—all of this is for everyone's benefit, including his in the long run.”

“You won't tempt me with any more of your stories!” Cloudchaser flew herself at him, slamming against her torso with the full force of her body. He would have cried if he any air left in him, dragged suddenly back into the present and hurdling backward into a beam.

Something squeaked above.

“You are not who you say you are!” She punched him in the gut, then again, and then again. She stepped back, content that he couldn't move. “Your words and your tales are nothing! Just tools to buy the trust and pity of those around you.”

“They're...not,” Spike said, looking up. He smiled, lifting his arm and slamming his elbow into the beam. “Not anymore, not after Rainbow.”

Cloudchaser felt something drip on her shoulder but paid it no mind as the lies about her friend drove her over the edge. She flared out her wings, giving them a mighty flap as she prepared to end this once and for all with a final kick.

She took air an inch then crashed back down, something heavy plopping on her wings. She looked—it was the blue goo, and when she looked up, she saw the black cauldron from before, now fully tilted. She glared at the drake. “You! I'll never forgive you!”

“You don't have to,” he said, limping off the beam with a claw at his waist. He looked as if he could fall over at any moment. “Just let me find Rainbow, and afterward, you can kill me if you like.”

“I'll kill you now!”

Cloudchaser leaped at him.

Spike stumbled out of the way.

Her body flew over the railing.

To the great depth that awaited her.

She screamed and screamed, wailing her hooves, till one of them was caught.

Cloudchaser looked up, seeing the drake lying down, claw tight around her forehoof. “L-Let go of me! Let me go!” She struggled and wiggled in the air, making the drake groan more.

“And let you fall to your death!?” Spike said, crying as the muscles in his waist were tearing apart. “You can't fly!”

“And I wonder who's fault that is!” she screamed back, not swaying as much. “I've tried to hurt and kill you. It's only natural you should want to do the same to me!”

“That's not how friendship works!”

“We're not friends!”

“Maybe not,” Spike said, trying to pull her up, only for him to slide forward an inch, “but you're a friend of Rainbow, so that makes you a friend of mine. And I’d much sooner hurt myself than hurt my friends!”

“How do you know that!” Cloudchaser cried, staring up at him. “After you've hurt Rainbow so deeply, how can you have so much confidence that you never meant to hurt her!?”

“Because she's the one that gave me that confidence!” Spike cried, clenching his eyes and pulling harder again. “Rainbow locked me in that room with Twilight! They confronted me about my feelings, and when I told them, their first reaction was to put it to the test!”

“Test!?”

“Twilight captured my razor sharp claw in her magic and pulled it towards Rainbow!” Spike pulled harder at the weight of the mare, his other claw pushing against the beam to keep him in place. “She offered to be the test subject, to be perfectly still even should I take out an eye—what kind of mare puts herself at that kind of risk for a friend?!”

“Rainbow...” Cloudchaser didn't mean to reply, but the words tumbled out of her lips before she could stop them.

“Right,” Spike croaked out, sitting back despite hearing his spine crack. He put his foot against against either railing, reaching down his other claw. “I thought they would call it off, that an inch before her face the spell would cease! But my claw kept getting closer and closer!”

He tried reaching her other forehoof with his free claw, crying as the distance between them was off by an inch. “I was crying for them to stop, that I'd do anything if they would just put it to an end, but they both kept silent!”

Spike pulled back his arm, winching at the absence of any other options, and slammed his shoulder into the beam. It made him howl with pain and his other claw slide an inch up on her forehoof, dangling his dislocated shoulder over the ledge. “Moments before the impact, I knew I had to act! I dug my teeth deep into my claw, my talons as well, and used all the power in my body to pull my claw away from her!”

The arm reached her other hoof, taking a hold of it, even at the influx of agony. “It hurt, I bled, but in the way, I pulled my claw away. Rainbow was quick to hug me in congratulations, and Twilight to bandage my bleeding claw.”

Spike began to pull her up much easier now, inch by inch, her muzzle nearing the ledge.

“Rainbow...knew that words wouldn't get through to me,” Spike said, seeing Cloudchaser's face. “How good I was at using words to mask my feelings, so she used actions to prove that I would never hurt my friends—that I would sooner hurt myself before anything else.”

Spike used his claw to grab the mare by the neck, using any remaining strength to toss her over the railing and onto the platform. Mares flooded down nearby stairs and began approaching where they were. He groaned, stumbling backward until he pressed against a large panel of glass.

“It was Rainbow that taught me that actions are how we discovered who we really are,” Spike said, smashing his elbow into the window and letting air suction into the place. He lifted himself up onto the rim. “Unlike words, they rarely lie, always propelling us forward, even by an inch.”

Spike turned around, seeing that there was no ground below. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing some mares converge around Cloudchaser, the rest rushing at him with fury in their eyes. “Believe me or not, it doesn't matter—it won't stop me from finding Rainbow.”

Spike then jumped forward and fell to his death.

“Cloudchaser!” The mares were quick to help the mare up, letting her rest her forehooves on their necks. “Are you okay? He didn't hurt you too bad, did he?”

“No,” she said, realization catching in her voice. She looked out the window he jumped out of. “He didn't. He really didn't hurt nopony but himself...”

“CHOO-CHOO!”

“Wa-hoo!”

All the mares turned to look at the window just in time to see a train snake into the air, a dragon standing atop it with his arms out wide.

“A-ha! I knew you would come!” Spike dropped to the ground, kissing the top of the train.

“CHOO-CHOO!”

“Oh, how I love you too!”

“CHOO-CHOO?”

“Forward and onward!” Spike exclaimed, sitting up on his knees and point forward. “If we snake around the sky, we may see something that'll clue us in to where Rainbow went next!”

“CHOO-CHOO!”

The train, and the dragon, disappeared into the clouds.

Meanwhile, the mares stared on to the bizarre event, all mouths ajar.

Well, except for one.

“Well, I'll be.” Cloudchaser smiled, letting go of the mares and stepping forward on her own. “A flying train then, eh?” She walked up to the window, and in blowing the kiss, giggled out her next words.


“Tell me, Spike, just what else was true?”

> VII – Of War & Tea
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


 ~ VII ~

Of War and Tea


“You know, we've been talking an awful lot about me.”

ISN'T THAT THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS? said Death. DO NOT TAKE OFFENCE, BUT I AM A BUSY PERSONIFICATION, SO I WOULD NOT BE DOING THIS HAD THIS REPORT NOT BEEN A PART OF MY DUTY.

“Is this...is this all you do?”

Death let the quill drop from his fingers onto the desk, looking up at the drake. I AM DEATH. MY DUTY IS MY IDENTITY. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE FOR ME.

“Aw.” Spike shook his head and made a face. “But does it have to be like that? Don't you have off time, friends to have tea with?”

I HAVE NO FRIENDS, AND IF I DID, THEY DIDN'T LAST FOR VERY LONG.

“Why's that?”

BECAUSE I WOULD HAVE COLLECTED THEIR LIVES MOMENTS AFTER. Death sat back in his seat, exhaling. THIS IS THE LONGEST ENCOUNTER I'VE HAD WITH ANOTHER IN SOME TIME. IN FACT, YOU AND I SHOULDN'T EVEN BE TALKING, WERE IT NOT FOR THIS WEIRDNESS THAT SEEMS TO FOLLOW YOU.

“Is that a compliment?” Spike asked. “I feel that's a compliment, that is, of course, you don't like talking to mortals.”

I DO NOT MIND THE OCCASIONAL EXCHANGE, said Death. BUT MY ENCOUNTERS ARE MET WITH SPITE, BEGGING, AND THE SPECIAL FEW THAT TRY TO FOOT THE BILL. DEALING WITH MORTALS IS WORK, AND I DO NOT DERIVE PLEASURE FROM MY WORK.

“I guess very few are happy to see you then?”

ONLY THE BITTER OR THE PEACEFUL.

“So then, what do you do for fun?”

I...BEG YOUR PARDON?

“Fun!” Spike said, sitting up in his chair. “It must be stressful collecting the lives of everypony who dies, so what do you do to relieve the stress?”

COLLECT MORE LIVES?

“What, no!” Spike rubbed the side of his head. He looked around the room, forgetting that it stretched on in all directions to infinity. “There must be something you and I can do down here.”

ARE YOU...ARE YOU TRYING TO DELAY THE INEVITABLE HERE?

“Nah.” Spike scratched his head. “Whatever going to happen is going to happen, so no sense in sweating the small stuff. You seem like a nice guy, and I don't like the idea of you carrying on like this.”

SPIKE?

“Yes?”

I'M DEATH.

“So?”

That surprised Death. He'd never heard such audacity not backed by utter fear. SO MORTALS FEAR ME, OR, AT THE VERY LEAST, DISLIKE ME.

“Doesn't mean you have to lock yourself down here all the time!' Spike gestured over his shoulder at the door he had struggled with. “Why don't you try getting outside some time, off the clock and out for fun? Maybe you'll even make some friends that last longer than a minute!”

I TRIED THIS BEFORE, said Death, AND IT NEVER WORKS OUT WELL. THOSE WITH MAGIC NOTICE ME BUT PRETEND NOT TO, AND NO ONE ELSE ACTIVELY GOES OUT OF THEIR WAY TO SEE ME—SOMETHING HAS TO KILL THEM FIRST.

“Y'know, Death, you and I aren't so different after all.”

YOU ARE A MORTAL, AND I AM NOT, said Death. THAT IS THE BIGGEST DIFFERENCE THAT CAN EXIST—JUST ASK ANY OF YOUR UNTOUCHABLES.

“I may be a mortal,” Spike said, “but that doesn't stop us from being same in at least one aspect: outcasts.”

OUTCAST? said Death. YOU TAKE MORE FOR AN OUTCAST?

“Of course I do!” Spike said, leaning forward. “Why else would you have yourself locked down here, your every encounter with someone who is dying. You try to be among ponies while they're alive, and they only give you the stink eye!”

YOU PRETEND TO KNOW WHAT IS LIKE FOR DEATH TO BE AMONG LIFE?

“No,” said Spike, “but I know how it feels like to a dragon among ponies, to be so different while everypony else appears the same, constantly stressing how someone like you can fit in.” He sighed, falling back in his chair. “It hurts to be alone, even more so when you're at a party where everyone else is happy.” Spike then chuckled. “Not everypony looks past that fact that you're a dragon or Death, but the ones that do?” Spike looked up at Death. “They're like us, deep down, and they're the ones that burn away the loneliness with their joy.”

TEMPORARY JOY.

“Maybe,” said Spike, “but it's needed for permanent happiness.” He looked back to the report, the papers covering the story of all that's happened so far. “And besides, memories are forever, even if forget them from time to time.”

Death was still in his chair. It was hard to see what he was thinking, seeing how his expression never changed. Moments passed, and then, he picked up the quill once more, hunching over the papers so that the drake couldn't see his eyes—the only part of Death that beamed with something.

PLEASE CONTINUE, said Death. IT'S FOR THE BEST THAT WE DO NOT GET SIDETRACKED FROM THE TASK BEFORE EITHER OF US.

“Yeah,” Spike said, any joy fading from his face. “You're probably right anyway.”

Death didn't reply.

Spike continued the tale.





“CHOO-CHOO?”

“Yeah,” Spike said, standing on the edge of the cloud. The train hovered just before him, looking sad—that was if it was possible for trains to look sad. “This is looking like my final hope.” He looked over his shoulder, a mass of ponies gathered before a stage. “It's got drinks, good looking stallion, and a band. If she isn't here, then I'm out of luck.”

“CHOO-CHOO!”

“It's been a fun ride as well.” Spike leaned forward, hugging a thin exhaust pipe of the train, which exhausted a faint trail of smoke it response—possibly a train's way of crying. “I'm not just how sentient you are, but I just want you to know that being a train doesn't make you any less my friend.”

“CHOO-CHOO.”

“Be free,” Spike replied, pulling back. He held this left shoulder, recently popped back into place. “You're a flying train—I know a lot of ponies that would pay high bits to have you fly them to places, even get some traveling done while you're at it.”

“CHOO-CHOO.”

“Same to you.”

The flying train flew away, disappearing into the horizon.

Spike wiped a tear from his eyes, unable to handle the sight for much longer and turning around. A mass of pegasus occupied this district of the city, a flat expanse of cloud that was almost its own platform. A large stage stood at the front of it all, currently empty.

“Famous Last Words,” Spike read the banner above, tilting his head in thought. “Now why does that sound familiar?” He shook the issue from his head, continuing through the crowd. Ponies gave him strange looks, some for the sake of a dragon in their midst, the rest because it looked like there was a dying dragon in their midst, but all were overwhelmed by the stressed aura he exuded.were more overcome with the feeling of tenses in the stressed aura he gave off.

Spike mingled as best as he could, describing Rainbow Dash to whoever was willing to listen. The first thing he learned that saying pegasus was useless, having a blue coat equally so, but very few had a rainbow mane without swinging the same way.

More time passed, and more the frustration in the drake raised. He'd be told of Rainbow location at one part of the party, only to find a stallion called Rainbow Bob. It didn't help that his body felt weak, his mind foggy, and the sun further north every-time he looked up in the sky. Only seven hours remained, and he was slowing down instead of speeding up.

'How long do you think you can keep this up?' Greed asked at one point, when the drake's vision of the world began to grow blurry. 'You've never pushed yourself this hard before, and to your credit, you've reached a new high. But keeping at this rate? You're just going to crash and burn.'

“That's okay with me.” Spike found a group of pegasus hurdled in a circle, looking somewhat familiar. That, or he was just losing it. “I can crash and burn after I find Rainbow.”

'You're forcing too much on yourself for the sake of another.' Spike tried to ignore the voice, but shaking his head made his vision wobble. 'Look, kid, I'm the embroilment of a dragon's greed, and even I'm impressed by your selflessness. But it isn't going to last.”

Spike clenched his claw as he felt his mind being over-processed, cursing under his breath. “Shut up shut up shut up!”

'You may have the heart of a pony, but you've got the body of a dragon.' Greed's voice began to fade, allowing the drake back control over his mind. 'You will wonder why you're doing all this for them, that they should be more grateful for your efforts, which strips you of your nobility.'

“Then what am I supposed to do, consent to you!?”

'You are hurting an aspect of who you are,' Greed whispered. 'The key in defeating me does not lie in denying me.'

Spike's mind went silent.

“Yeah, whatever.” Spike groaned as his stomach hurt, pressing a claw against it. The air was getting hotter and stuffy, and the drake was finding it hard even to walk. He shook his head—a great regret—before putting on a social mask and continuing his search.

It didn't go well.

“Dude, are you going to eat me?”

Then.

“Dude, will you party with me.”

Some.

“Dude, you should hit this to relax.”

Spike was in no mood to hit a cloud hammer against a panel.

“Dude, haven't seen her.”

Those were always the worst.

Spike found himself near the front of the stage, leaning against it. A group of mares was speaking close to him.

“Can you girls believe that FML is here!?” the pink one said, wings flaring open. “It's been years since they announced they'd be willing to play here!”

“Hard to blame their delay.”

“How come?”

“You didn't hear?” the green one said. “First heavy metal ban plummet through the clouds during their first concert. The weight of the metal they had on them exceeded the capacity of the spell placed on them.”

The three felt like a joke could be made here, but kept it to themselves in respect to the musicians who risked their lives for their craft.

Something rumbled throughout the stage, causing the drake leaning against it to yelp and stand straight. He turned around just in time to see a pink unicorn pass through the red drapes at the back of the stage.

Spike blinked. This unicorn stood tall, taller than any unicorn he had seen in his life, with a large barrel yet slender and long legs. His mane was a blend of magenta and black, working together in a natural combination.

“Good morning ladies and gentlecolts!” the pink unicorn stopped at the front of a stage, bringing his muzzle before the microphone. “My name is Pop Tart, and I hope you brought your A-game because we're ready to rock!”

A wave of cheers washed across the crowd and toward the stage. They went hysteria when the rest of the band came out.

“We'll begin our first set in five minutes,” Pop Tart said, gazing along the ponies gathered. He loved nothing more than getting them pumped up. “The strong should gather at the front for the mosh pit later, and those 'just here for the music' in the back with the rest of the drug dealers.” He chuckled. “I'm only kidding. Hope you all enjoy the show!”

The crowd cheered in response.

“Wait!” Spike's voice caught Pop-Tart just as he was turning, making him look at the bruised dragon at the front of the stage. “I need to ask you something!”

“Huh.” Pop Tart muttered, walking over to the drake. He looked down. “Never before saw I dragon at one of our shows—mind if we include your name when we say we've had international guests?”

“What?' Spike shook his head, and yet, another mistake. “Look, I need your help.”

“Help?” Pop's eyes scanned up and down his body. “Guy, you need a weekend-long stay at the nearest hospital. The heck happened to you?”

“Flying trains and rainbow factories.” Spike shook his head again—he was nowhere near as smart as Twilight. “Listen, my marefriend is missing, and I think she may have come to this show. I need you to let me use your microphone to call out to her, maybe have someone come up who might have—“

“I'm going to stop you right there because none of that will be happening.”

“Wha—why!?”

“Because I'm under no obligations to help you, and to be honest, it's rude to ask us to do something minutes before we're about to perform.” Pop turned around.

“You can't just turn your back on me,” Spike cried out as he stumbled back. An inky blackness flooded in on the corners of his visor. “My friend may be in trouble. This may be my only chance of—“

“And why should I believe you're telling the truth!” Pop looked back. “Not only that, your missing friend isn't our problem, and thinking that it should be is really pissing me off! Just because you're in need does not mean others have to help you: it's selfish.”

“But...you...have to...”

“We don't have to do anything,” Pop replied, nodding at his fellow bandmaster. The drummer began drumming, and the guitarist played his strings. “It's not selfish to put yourself first; it's selfish to expect others to do so for you.”

Spike went to reply, but his vision went black. He felt himself falling, though the sensation didn't last long as his back rested against something soft. All the pain, all the exhaustion, any feeling or sensation faded from his body as his eyes began to close.

The drake was at peace.

He hated himself for it.

“...gotta....get....up...” Spike wheeze incoherently. “...too much time...has already...passed...”

Spike no longer felt his body as he felt himself slipping away into oblivion.

'Sorry to tell you this kid,' was the last thing the drake heard, 'but this is the one I was right about.'

The drake couldn't reply, hearing only music far, far away.

And then he remembered about the mosh pit.





WOULD YOU CARE FOR SOME TEA?

Spike shook his head—it wasn't as much as a mistake in the dark domain “What?”

OR IS IT COFFEE...ALWAYS GETTING THE TWO MISTAKEN.

“Have you, I don't know, had either of them before?”

I SEEN MORTALS DRINK THEM, replied Death. USUALLY, MOMENTS BEFORE THEY DIE, EITHER FROM CAFFEINE OVERDOSE OR POISON—IS POISON A GOOD SWEETENER?

“Not from what I've heard,” Spike said in a strange tone. “But yeah, I'll have coffee if you have a kettle around here—hold the poison though.”

KETTLE?

“Ya, y'know, the thing to boil water?” Spike scratched his neck. “Twilight and I have been getting lazy, so we've been boiling water and having instant-coffee. If you have a percolater or brewer, that will work even better.”

THERE WILL BE NO NEED FOR SUCH PROCESSES DOWN HERE, BOY, Death said, catching Spike by surprise with the pride in his voice. NOTHING AND EVERYTHING CAN EXIST HERE OUT OF IMITATION. WATCH.

Death snapped his fingers. Black liquid flushed up from the ground, rising on the chair and desk.

THERE WE ARE. Death sat back in his seats, arms crossed. TRY A SIP.

Spike stared at his reflection with uncertainty, dipping in a claw and cupping back the liquid, tilting it past his lips. He swallowed, then made a face.

“Death?”

YES?

“This isn't coffee?”

Death uncrossed his arms. NO?

“This is just water that's black.”

THAT'S NOT WHAT COFFEE IS?

“Well, I mean, it is.” Spike tried to recall what made coffee distinct from black water. He snapped his fingers. “Bitter. Coffee is bitter and makes you super hyper.”

HMM. Death snapped his fingers. Spike took another sip.

“Ack!' Spike spat the liquid out, rubbing his claws down his tongue. “Too bitter”

HMM.

Another snap.

Another sip.

“Hey, triple-triple!” Spike repeatedly plunged his claws into the liquid. “Say, because we're drinking it down here, is the sugar just as bad for me?”

NO.

“Oh, good.”

IT WILL MOST LIKELY BE WORSE.

“Oh, suddenly not so good.” Spike let the coffee pour through his claws. He looked back at Death “Say, can you make some cups?”

CUPS? repeated Death. CUPS ARE UNNECESSARY. THE GROUND IS PERFECTLY STERILE, PLUS, THE LIQUID IS UNCEASING, SO YOU MAY DRINK AS MUCH AS YOU PLEASE.

“See, that's the thing,” Spike said. “While drowning myself in triple-triple waters would probably be a worthy death, there are still too many things I need to wrap up before that. Cups are nice because there's a limit on how much they can be filled and always make you feel bad for refilling.”

STILL, AN UNNEEDED FORMALITY, SINCE YOU AND I HAVE BROKEN THE ICE, AS YOU MORTAL LIKE TO SAY.

Spike looked between his legs first before replying. “Maybe, but formalities are familiar, and that helps calms ponies in dealing with the unfamiliar. I promise you, have a tea set ready when you're taking your next soul, and more ponies would be willing to converse with you?”

Death would have arched an eyebrow if he had any. REALLY?

“Yeah, I mean, alright.” Spike sighed, holding his claws up as if he were calming down a situation. “You and I don't know each other too well, and I have a strong suspicion you probably dislike me.”

Death remained silent.

“But I like you, as strange, and, especially platonic as that may sound.” Spike inhaled sharply. “You may take lives, but it's not like you're killing anypony to do so. You seem like a really cool guy if you take the hood off from time to time.”

Death remained silent.

Spike decided to take this as a good thing.

“To be honest with you, if I didn't have such a strange day, I would have probably peed myself in your presence.” Spike made a face that said 'what-can-you-do-about-it?' “You're a seven-foot-tall skeleton wearing a back robe and wielding a scythe that glows in the dark—I would have died from a heart attack had I not already just died.”

Death raised a bony finger to his bony mouth.

“That another thing, ponies are terrified to die!” Spike threw up his arms. “So seeing you, upon facing whatever comes after life, is going to make some ponies say some things they would have regret were they not dead. But take off that hood, have a table set with tea, and spend five minutes talking with the ponies—I bet it'll make your life a lot more interesting and easier if you let it.”

Death kept staring at the drake as though the latter was spinning some trick. It was in the trade to fear tricksters—the agnostics who suddenly became Buddhists when they found out recantation was actually a viable career path.

Duty compelled Death to trust it and it alone. Mortals were too often scammers, and fellow immortals often gave him the stink eyes as if he was trying to take away what was rightfully there's.

Every bone in his body told him not to open up, that he was exposed enough without flesh to conceal his being—it was the reason why he wore the robe in the first place. Hard to pass off as a blind force of nature when you've got a character to your personality.

SPIKE, began Death. EVERY REASON EXISTS TO DISLIKE YOU, FROM YOUR COWARDICE TO YOUR ECCENTRICITIES, FROM YOUR MORTALITY AND YOUR DECEPTIVE TONGUE, AND YET, I DETECT A STRANGE SENSE OF TRUTH RADIATING FROM YOUR CORE.

Spike placed a claw to his chest. It didn't feel radioactive.

SO I WILL ASK YOU THIS, said Death, AND I WILL ASK YOU THIS ONCE. ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL A FAST ONE ON ME WITH THIS? THAT'LL IT BUY YOU ANY FAVORS?

“No,” Spike said without having to think, “I'm doing this because I want to see you do well. At the end of the day—if that even exists here—I'm here to tell you my story and then make a deal with you at the end. This...weird friendship of ours has no bearing on that whatsoever, and I won't treat you differently—unless of course, I end up dying.”

YOU...YOU WOULD CONSIDER YOURSELF A FRIEND OF DEATH? Death said, leaning forward. YOU ARE FRIENDS WITH DEATH, DESPITE THE IMPLICATIONS?

“Sure!” Spike said, holding out his claw over the desk. “I've stopped caring about whatever those implications are, and just care about wanting to be your friend.” He closed his eyes and offered the biggest smile he had in stock. “So, how about it?”

Duty, to Death, had been the easiest way to 'live.' Someone would always be dying. He would always have some place to go in order to claim their soul. Then he would return to his domain and do paperwork. No complications, just simplicity. He knew himself to be doing right, because duty itself was direct and correct.

But shaking this dragon's claw? That would be an act of own volition, of leaving the beaten trail to wander off the grass, a chance of being wrong for the first time in his existence.

So Death took the dragon's claw, making the owner open his eyes, and then shook it.

THE CONTRACT IS SEALED, SPIKE. Death let go of the claw. YOU ARE THE FIRST FRIEND OF DEATH. SHALL WE HAVE SOME PROPER TEA TO CELEBRATE?

Spike laughed. “I thought you would never ask!”

Death went to snap his finger but stopped when the drake took the current page of the report and the quill next to it. He turned it over and began drawing on the back of it.

THAT IS PRIVILEGE PAPER MEANT FOR TRUTH ALONE! Death said, leaning over the table. TO DRAW CREATIVITY ON IT IS TO DESTROY THE VERY PURPOSE IT WAS MADE FO—

“There!” Spike said, turning the paper around. “You seem to have trouble bringing to life the things pony create, so try using this for reference!"

Death stared at the drawing. It was of a balcony, a glass table between a dragon and an alicorn, the sun setting in the distance. Despite being hastily drawn, it filled with Death with an aura of calmness. THIS... Death began, looking up from the sketch. THIS IS WHAT LIES BEYOND DUTY?

“Mmhmm!” Spike nodded his head, but then he rose a claw. “But make sure not to overdo it to escape work, or else you'll forget while sunsets are so peaceful!”

YOU TRULY ARE A STRANGE ONE, BUT IT WILL BE DONE. In a snap, everything changed in a flash. Instead of the infinite expanse of blackness, they were now on the balcony of a white castle, no wind nor ground below. HOW IS THIS? BETTER?

“Getting there,” Spike said, noticing how they now sat on wooden chairs. He looked over at the horizon. “If you can, try making some hills of grass, and with the temperature warm but the breeze cool.”

Fingers snapped.

IT IS SO.

Spike looked on to the rolling hills, of the setting sun and the refreshing breeze. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, and in that very moment, made peace with himself, and whatever else would come at the end of this strange day of his.

THIS...BREEZE. Spike opened his eyes just in time to see Death take off his hood, leaning back as he seemed to be in equal peace. IT FEELS...NICE.

“Yeah.” Spike smiled, leaning back in his chair as well. “It does.”

SO, AFTER YOU COLLAPSED, began Death, staring up at the blue sky, WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?

“Yeah, about that.” He glanced over at the head of the skeleton, whose head was smooth enough to capture the glint of sunlight. “You going to write this down?”

MY MEMORY IS IMPECCABLE, said Death. LET ME RELAX AND LISTEN, AND ONCE I HAVE FINISHED WITH THIS BREAK, I'LL FILL IN THE DETAILS. BUT FIRST, WOULD YOU LIKE THAT TEA?

Death snapped his fingers, and two objects manifested themselves on the table.

Spike tried his hardest not to laugh, looking at the bowl on the table.

WHAT'S WRONG, said Death. HAVE I FAILED AT PERFECTION ONCE AGAIN?

“Hmm, yeah.” Spike picked up the bowl with two claws, sipping his tea. At least it was hot. “But you're making progress.”

And then he continued the tale.





It's easy to mistake sleep for death. Many prefer sleep over death—it doesn't last nearly as long and brings about the same release. It has a way of resetting you, stripping you of your memories and identity, so all and all, just a step away from reincarnation.

Spike couldn't remember what he dreamt of, only that it was a dream he had when he was much longer, and was just having it again after so many years. It was crazy to think, that out of all the things to remain consistent in his life, these continuous series of bizarre and easily forgettable dreams was one of them.

“Oh. You're up.”

Spike stirred, groaning and stretching, nothing restricting his blind moment. And then he opened his eyes and saw a pink face, which made him worried about the state, in which, he'd fallen asleep—more so when he realized the pink face belong to a stallion.

“Ugh. Please, don't tell me.” Spike reached a hand down his crotch, relieved to feel nothing there nor any soreness. He blinked at the face far too close in proximity. “You mind?”

“I was just making sure you're alive,” Pop Tart sat on the edge of the couch. He walked to the wooden table next to them, laying his hoof on a small stack of papers. “And that you sign this.”

Spike turned his head, stretching out a claw. “Sure. You got a pen?”

“That I do.” And with a flash of purple magic, a quill floated into the said claw. Pop raised an eyebrow. “You're not going to ask what it's for?”

“Probably a restraining order,” Spike muttered, signing awkwardly on the first page. He flipped to the next. “Major villains, if not banished or killed by magic, tend to get restraining orders against the girls and me by proxy. Celestia usually rejects them though, seeing how she's the law and all that.”

“Well, it's not that.” Pop looked at the signature, frowning if the drake was still incoherent. The papers would be thrown out of court if that was the case. “Just that FML didn't cause your injuries, that you don't hold anyone else but yourself at fault, and an agreement to stay far away from our future shows.”

“Sounds about right.” He signed page two, then sighed. “So, where am I and why are you here?”

“You passed out at the front of the show—some mares were crying that you'd die.” Pop shrugged his shoulders. “Would have added to our legacy and popularity, but I don't doubt my fellow mates would have taken it as an omen. Seven'd go back to being a number and Priest return to celebrant.”

“Ah, crud.” Spike stopped singing his name to look up. This was probably a good idea. “I'm sorry. If I'd knew I was going to KO, I'd would have found an alley instead of the front of your show.” He shook his head; it didn't hurt so much. “Should have left me out there instead of canceling your show.”

“Listen dragon—“

“Spike.”

“Right, then listen, Spike.” Pop Tart inhaled sharply. “Just because I didn't want to find your friend does not mean I'd let some stranger get stomped to death. That kind of help is mandatory, so to speak.” He then shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, the show isn't canceled yet.”

“W-Wait. The show's not canceled?” Spike rubbed his eyes, his heart beginning to race. “Must have pretty dedicated fans if they're willing to wait for you to play. How long have I been out?”

“Dude, it's only been twenty-five minutes.” Pop walked to where the curtains were drawn, popping his head out. “We would have played regardless, but audience members were concerned about your state. Hard to enjoy the show when you think a dragon's dying backstage.”

“Twenty-five minutes?” Spike said, blinking in surprise. His claw trembled before his eyes. “I've only been out for twenty-five minutes?!”

“One hell of a power-nap.” Pop pulled his head back in, glancing at the drake who began to sit up. “Say, would you mind coming with us on stage to announce that you're alright? Put a lot of worried hearts to rest.”

“Can I...” Spike placed weight on his legs as he stood up, only to fall back into the couch. He felt rested, but his body was beyond sore. “Can I add that I'm looking for someone, that I'm sorr—“

“Yeah, I just going to stop you right there because none of that will be happening.”

“What? But why!?”

“First, because I don't owe you squat.” Pop walked to the opposite side of the table. “Second, you've already stolen time from both our show and our fans, the only two things I care about.” He slammed his hoof on the table. “And third, this notion that we should help you out of goodness alone is really starting to piss me off.”

“It's just...it won't take more than a few seconds and—“

“Tough!” Pop returned his hoof. “You don't seem to get that the world doesn't revolve around you, with a good purpose or not. If I refuse to help you, no matter how little that help is, the choice is still mine, and it doesn't make me evil to stay in my best interest.”

“Please,” Spike said, feeling his shoulders shake. “I don't know what else I can do. This is the final place she would come to!”

“I got that already, and the answer is still no.” Pop backed a step. “You're making it sound like I should be bound to some higher standard, that I should feel guilty for not helping you. Ponies are not like that, nor should they feel bad putting themselves first—only a fool would think otherwise.”

“But, that's...that's how it's been for me.” Spike wanted to cry, feeling like he was going to pass out again. “It's how I made that extra mile, how I'm awake instead of a comma, the only way to continue forward on this strange day. If I were doing this for myself, then I would have already failed and gone to bed.”

“How did you make this far in life thinking that?” Pop said, taking off his shades and taking a seat on a fold-out chair. “Either you're some divine creature or some kid that's too scared to say no. Either way, you're living the life of extremes, my friend.”

“It's the only way for dragon living among ponies to live.” Spike sat straight, clasping his claws. “Unless I want to start tearing building and stealing banks.”

“Geeze. How'd you figure that?”

“Every dragon...” Spike held his tongue for the moment. He'd never spoken to anyone else about his internal conflicts, the never-ceasing voice of greed that lurked behind his every act, both of charity and wickedness. It felt so fake to speak of him out-loud, like it was his imaginary burden to carry alone. “They have this thing, an instinct given voice, more primal than anything else. Most dragons live to satisfy this voice, and that voice alone—the treasure, wives, and off-breed are just a by-product of this mass obsession.”

“So you've got one too?”

“It's what reminds me I'm a dragon,” Spike said, falling forward, “some days I take that with pride, and other days I wonder why I'm among your kind. I'd go on without it if I could, but try as I might, something always seems wrong with that idea.”

“I'll say,” Pop said, leaning forward in his chair, “no matter why your psychology is messed. So did you manage to reject it?”

“Only once, and after that, it's become a daily struggle.” Spike sunk back into his seat, letting his gaze rest on the hanging light above. “I'd gotten greedy with some birthday gifts and destroyed the town in return. I'd learn that, when something deep inside growled in desire, it was best to skip out on taking anything above my means.”

“Sounds like your kind got it a bit rough.”

“Not really, it's natural for them—how else do you think dragons got so strong?” Spike draped a claw over his eyes. “All that fighting for their desires, the size of their hoard the size of their self-worth, the only ones who's a freak is me for living away from my kind.”

Pop was in thought for a few moments, digesting the story told. He then spoke, his tone holding reluctance. “These thoughts, these feelings, they guanine? This is not some pity story?”

“I don't even know anymore,” Spike said, letting his eyes close. “Am I just complaining because I'm not strong enough to deal with these feelings alone, or was Celestia mistaken in thinking a dragon could be tamed? I'm the first dragon to live among ponies, and I don't know what make either.”

He let his claw drop from his face. “I'm just a confused fool trying to do good, and at the end of the day, I just do more harm than good. It seems to be a repeating cycle—I doubt I'm making progress at all.”

“Have you...have you told anyone about this voice?”

“No.” Spike glanced over at him. “After the incident, Greed realized I'd evolved past my primal nature. So now he speaks to me like a used carriage dealer—he feels everything I feel, learns everything I learn and is getting better at selling me my desires.” He laughed. “Everyone would laugh and call me crazy, and the girls would have me locked up or closely watched. My Greed isn't going away, no matter how much anyone else tries to help.”

Spike gaze shifted into a glare. “So you don't have to sweat helping me with that.”

Pop Tart glared back at him for a good while, the air mostly silent aside from the distant chatter. The only light came from the bulb above and the cracks in the curtain, and after some time, Pop Tart sighed.

“Alright,” Pop began, “I'm going to tell you this, and I'm going to tell you this once, so clean the wax out of your ears. At the end of the day, there is nothing evil about protecting your self-interest, nor in wanting things.” Pop stood from his chair. “To think otherwise is to damn most of the population and miss out on so many pleasures.”

“But I don't need that stuff.”

“That's why they're called wants, kid.” Pop cracked his neck left, then again right. “We don't need pleasure in life, yet we want it anyway. You don't have walk straight on the path made by life's demands. You're allowed to wander about on the grass—that's where the rest of life is anyway.”

“But I can't risk losing myself,” Spike said, leaning forward off the couch. “I did it once and nearly destroyed a town, I did it a second time and hurt those close to me.'

“Listen to me. You seem like a nice guy.” Pop gazed at the table, laying a hoof on the pages. “Most would have skipped this bill in your place. Have you ever considered the reason why you rage when you lose control is that you deny yourself so much?”

“What, no!” Spike shook his head, feeling the world grow blurry. “I mean, maybe...I don't know!”

“That's exactly it.” Pop turned to the drapes, pulling them back with a hoof so that the distant crowd was visible. “Music is my life, and I would be content with playing back in my room—less having to listen to critics. But those fans out there? They enjoy my tunes, and I enjoy their cheers.”

Spike tried to understand, to make sense of this logic, but every word pained his heart. Something felt wrong, something wrong about himself, and searching for the right, always, just made the strange pain hurt more. He kept silent, breathing through his lips.

“My priority is my fans and my music,” Pop said, pulling back his hoof, letting the drapes fall into place. “I'm willing to practice the extra day for a better show, to play encore after encore till they had their peace, to spend our profits on bettering our instruments and our stages.”

Pop turned back to Spike. “I'm doing it out of self-interest because I like our fans, and I wish for them to enjoy our shows. And I'm willing to fight against anything that gets in the way of our relationship, that even includes denying helping yours.”

“It's...an equal exchange then,” Spike said, blinking. He looked up from his claws. “You play music, and they cheer you on. No one gets burned out, and all walk away happy.”

“'bout right,” Pop glanced at the papers again. “It's unfair for one to suffer for the sake of the other. There must be something they want for them to go through hell, or else they'd break or come to hate the other with a passion.”

'Is that it?' Spike thought to himself. 'My jealousy of Rainbow, of the girls, it comes from denying myself of what I want?' He covered his face with the palm of his claw. 'No, but if I submit to my greed, everything will just turn out the same again.'

“You can take without being greedy,” Pop began, levitating the papers off the table, “just like how you can be confident without dipping into arrogance. It's all matter of knowing yourself, and then, trusting yourself.”

Spike found his lips moving on their own. “Don't let the impossible stop from doing the improbable.”

Pop clapped. “Hey, I like that one! Mind if I steal it?”

'Is this it? Have I just been denying myself all this time?' Spike felt the train of thought penetrate his heart, knowing it had to go even deeper for anything worthy to come out. 'I've put my life at risk and pushed myself harder than I've done before just to find her, to get smacked and leave a letter. Do I seriously think I would not come to hate her once all was said and done, and I've gotta deal with the following agony?'

“Hey pal, you there?”

'I couldn't have anything, no, wouldn't have anything I desired out of fear.' Spike winced as his thoughts became more primal. 'To become more, to have more, no, that's just my greed trying to state my need for superiority. Right now, above anything, I know what I want, what I've wanted all this time—there isn't any shame in wanting it anymore!'

“Did you pass out again or—“

“Let me play at your show!” Spike exclaimed, calming the pink hoof with his claw. “Dunno how to sing, worse at dancing, but I know how to breathe fire!” He grinned. “Cue me in when you're about to riff, and I'll blow a flame that the audience won't forget.”

Pop raised a brow. “And in return?”

“You let me get across one message.”

Pop studied him for a moment. A moment later, he broke out with a similar grin. “Looks like you know how to cater to someone's self-interest.”

“So, do we have a deal?”

They shook.

“We got a deal.”





Life looks different when you're on a stage, even more so when hundreds are gathered just to watch you play. Spike felt butterflies fight to the death in his stomach as he rolled out with the other crew members, the sensation worsening when the music began to play.

“In despair and disregard, we see the magic in the distant stars,” Pop sang into the microphone, head dipped as he strummed his guitar. “Our grasp so short, the distance so far, is this the way it has to be?”

Spike's foot tapped against the wood, not coming to his attention until after moment it'd begun. Something coursed through his body, a sensation he'd been denying.

“Whaddaya say, friends, is this the eeeeend?” He drew out the note, closing his eyes in surrender to the emotion. His voice became stronger. “Is this the eeeend?”

Pop's eyes flew open with a grin below, turning the mic below. The crowd screamed: “No!”

“So we fight, fight!” He winked, and a moment later, Spike blew a green flame up above the stage, accentuating the change in tone. “Against the currents of time and the air of despair, sailing ever onward on the spirit of our courage and our will, to the yonder of our deeeesirrresss!”

Energy coursed, in its rawest form, through the Spike's veins. He didn't question it. He didn't stop it, knowing of its primal source, of the dragon inside he had long since ignored. No longer did he feel like a dead dragon walking—now he had found a new source to derive energy.

“The storms of reality will knock us off course, the pirates of the sea stealing us of our hope,” Pop flew his head up and down, sending his mane spraying into the air. “But band together, you and I, over the leagues of the endless sea, and we'll see the other side.”

Spike didn't even need to be cued in, he had already taken a running start, sliding across the stage with flames roaring out his mouth, growing higher into a curvature of his rampaging emotion, stopping at the other side and grinning back at the screaming fans.

“Leaving our homes insecure and afraid, traversing the seas and ourselves, reaching those stars together and better.” The drums came to a solo, then the bass and then the guitar, achieving climax with a simple few words. “What is the way you desire, my brothers and my sisters?”

The show ended there, but up in the air, the following words were written in flame and smoke:

I love you, Rainbow Dash.

PS. I have a letter for you.





AND THAT WORKED?

“Hmm?” Spike put down the bowl of tea. To be honest, he much rather a bowl than a cup—it felt more natural and allowed for more tea. “Sorta. Rainbow wasn't there, but someone who'd seen her was.”

WHO WAS THAT?

Spike flinched. “A past enemy.”





“Well well well.” The voice caught Spike before he could walk away, causing him to look over his shoulder at the source. “So the wimp grew a few inches, but not in the place that pleases a girl. Tell me.” Spike turned around, blinking with his mouth open. “Just how much did she make you cry?”

Spike rose a finger, pointing it down at the black pegasus. “D-Dumbell?!”





DUMBELL?

“He used to bully Rainbow and Fluttershy back when they were young,” Spike said, sighing at the memory. “Met him the day I stopped caring, send some cool and cringy stuff, then got Rainbow to beat him up. Not an end I wanted to tie up so soon, but then...”





“What are you doing here, Dumbbell?” Spike hopped down from the stage, the crowd cheering as the next song began to play. “What do you want with me?”

“To punch your face in, more than anything.” He grinned, nodding his head to a building behind him. “Seems like your darling's gone missing. Have a drink with me?”





So that's how the late evening found them, in a pup with the sun going down, foe and foe sitting side by side. Spike neglected to mention this was his first time attending a bar, but sat hunched forward like he'd seen his heroes do in the comics.

“You and I are going to play a little game,” Dumbell began as soon as the bartender left them a bottle. He uncorked it his lips, using wings to pour the liquid into two shot glasses, pushing one of them over to the dragon. “I'd take you now how I did back then, but wouldn't want your girl or your Princess on my tail.” He placed the bottle back on the counter. “So this is how I'll get my revenge.”

“Your revenge? Listen, I have time for this!” Spike got up to leave, but a hoof held him back.

“You do,” was Dumbbells reply, “if you want to see your marefriend again. She came to this bar, these exact seats last night, and hung around yours truly.” He chuckled as the drake sat back, lifting his shot with a wing. “Now, you exposed my insecurity in front of everyone, so it's about time the same was done to you.”

“Enough with these games!” Spike clenched his claw, restraining himself from grabbing Dumbell by the throat. This was a want that shouldn't be fulfilled. “Punch me, expose me, or whatever it is you want after I find Rainbow!”

“Now now, my dragon, there is still time left in the day for that!” Dumbell glared, malice intent exuding from his being. “Drink.”

Dumbbell tipped back his drink, and without choice, Spike did the same.

He refilled their shots.





“Give it up, dragon!”

Spike skidded to the stop of the edge of the cloud, the ground looming so far below. He turned to run, only to see the pegasi converging on his position, leaving no means of escape. Claws raised and smile on, he pleaded for his life. “I take it I'm not getting out of this one?”

The pegasus closed in.

“I see then,” Spike gulped, looking over his shoulder and the ground below. Sighing, he faced them all. “Guess you all must want me dead, then.”

Some nodded.

“Well,” Spike began while sucking his teeth, “then I suppose you got your wish.'

Spike stretched his arms out wide, grinned, then left himself fall backward. Surprise lit across a few pegasus faces as they dashed after him, but to of little avail as he'd already fallen past the edge. Ponies looked to one another, as if searching for the one in charge or if this counted or murder, but had their gazes drawn to a gust of wind.

A purple balloon shot up into the air, sending off a wave of air that blew all manes back. Spike laid atop of it, yelping in surprise as he slid down its length, hooking his claw into the wooden chamber before pulling his body into it. He stood up a moment later, surprised but glad to be alive, spotting Dumbbell just below.

“Killing yourself is one hell of a way to get yourself laid—but there's no point in fakin' it if your girl ain't around!” Dumbbell shouted past his hoof, grinning once the drake leaned over the wooden ledge. “You left this here a few week ago, figured I'd repair it and sell it for myself.”

Spike couldn't hold back his roar of laughter. “How much I owe you then?”

“What you talkin' about?” Dumbbell called back, doubling his flap speed and shooting himself into the balloon. “Your friendship already covered the bill—now get a move on!” His body collided with the balloon, the impact sending it hurtling towards Canterlot. “Your butt ain't getting laid if she gets the check after dark!”

The distant dragon gave a thumbs up.





YOU POSSES AN INTERESTING POWER.

“I do?”

YOU ARE A FOOL, BUT DEEP DOWN, EVERY MORTAL IS A FOOL IN THEIR OWN WAY. Death cracked his neck. YOU PUT YOURS ON YOUR DISPLAY, ALWAYS HONEST AND TRUSTING OF IT, THAT IT MOTIVATES OTHERS TO DO THE SAME. BY NOT CARING ABOUT YOUR INSECURITY, AND INSTEAD, HOW MUCH FUN STUPIDITY IS, YOU GET OTHERS TO OPEN UP AND START DOING THE SAME.

“Never thought about it that way,” Spike said while scratching his head. “Just kinda started caring about the stuff that mattered and not sweating the rest. I imagine I'll cringe about all this once everything is over, but hey, it really doesn't matter in the end.”

Then there was the sound of something knocking. Death's domain, in response, reverted back the dark realm it was supposed to be, with the bowls of teas disappearing in a flash. The door floated in the air behind them once more, a rapping coming from the other voice.

“I am the prince of griffons and soon to be rightful king!” cried the voice on the other side. “I should not have to wait for Death; Death should have to wait for me!”

Spike looked forward. “You were expecting?'

AN ARMY OF GRIFFINS, replied Death. SOME DRAGON WAS GOING TO TELL ME WHY SO MANY TIMERS ARE SET TO EXPIRE WITHIN THE NEXT FEW DAYS. I'VE BEEN WONDERING HOW ALL OF THIS AMOUNTS TO A WAR.

Spike made a pop sound with his lips. “Let's just say I took my new-found confidence a step too far.”





“Perfect!” Missy exclaimed in front of the castle, standing on his hind legs with his arms open to the nation. “Far too long have equines had unlimited access to these lands, friendship run among their own kind and scorn shown to all those enter. No longer will their tyranny run supreme!”

Missy turned around. A platoon of griffons stood in salute in rows before the steps below. “That temporary princess was all the pretense we needed to move our guards in. With all the current princess confined to their castle, it's a solid deal from here on ou—“

The casket of a hot air balloon the crushed him, the said balloon deflating

“Geeze, that could have gone a lot better.” Spike threw himself over the casket, rolling forward and down the cement, yelping at the contact of each step, stopping before the griffons who'd just seen their leader get crushed. They didn't look at the dragon too nicely, for which, he tried smiling. “I know this must look odd, but we're in Canterlot, right?”

Spike glanced along their ranks. “Because, usually, we don't have griffons here—neither dragons, but I'm the strange exception.” He pushed himself off the ground and stood up, wiping the filth off his scales. He glanced at their sword. “Weapons are especially a no-no around here.” He raised his claws and wiggled them. “Only reason I get away with these is that they're attached to my body.”

“You...you killed our leader!” the four griffons in the front row drew their swords, while the four in the back stepped away. Eight of them in total, with two who were backing away taking the bow clutching to their torso. “The dragons were not supposed to interfere! State your business!”

“Look, I don't mean any harm.” Spike let his claws fall to his sides. “I'm just here looking for a cyan pegasus with rosy eyes and a rainbow mane—name's Rainbow Dash, seen her before?”

“You speak of the injured blue one with attitude!”

“Yes!” Spike snapped his fingers, smiling ear to ear. “That's her. I've been searching for her all day! She's here, then? Can you show me to her?”

The griffons looked to one another for a moment, each nodding and turning around, huddling together while the two in the back kept their bows trained on the drake.

“He just killed our prince!” one exclaimed, but it was in a hushed whisper, so it was okay. “Such an act should be met with the same respect! We outnumber him in bodies and weapons. It will be a cinch.”

“This is a dragon we're talking about,” said a white one. “Their rage knows no end, and I'd rather not see my own so soon.”

“Dunno about that one,” said the gold one, “looks kinda weak to me—kinda speaks like an idiot.” They were still speaking in a whisper, so no matter the subject, it made it a-okay—bad words about others only got you in trouble if those others heard you. “I think we can take him.”

“And truly start this off as a war!?” said the white one, again. “For all we know, he can be a dragon ambassador. War with friendship loving ponies—steel beats peaceful words any day. But a dragon with fangs and claws twice the size of my body?”

“He's got a point,” said a green one, and because of that, the others cared very little for his opinion. “It's not worth pissing this guy of, either because he can kill us or get other dragons to kill us, and either way, we end up as dead as our princes.

“I'm telling you,” said the white one, “this dragon will kill us or will find other dragons to kill us. Fighting him outright is a bad idea.”

“Yeah,” replied the gold one, nodding, “you're right.”

This made the green one very sad.

“But we can't exactly have a dragon around, though,” the gold one went on. “He may get upset over our treatment over the ponies or decide he'll want to do what we're doing, either way, we can't fight him, but he certainly can't stay here.”

“This is true,” said the green one.

“This is true,” said the white one, which everyone heard. “He said he was here looking for that injured pegasus that came last night, right? Why don't we pretend she's our prisoner, which she kinda is, and if he doesn't leave and follow our exact instruction, we'll torment her further?”

“I'm not sure about that,” said the green one.

“Hey yeah!” the gold one agreed, nodding his head for the extra effort. “Even if he's strong enough to take most of us own, he has no idea just how many of us are in the castle, and that should he make it that far, we'll kill her!”

“I don't like this.”

“I love this!”

So they turned around and went with that, with the drake standing with a confused expression on his face.

“This Rainbow Dash you speak of, she tried sneaking into the castle intoxicated the night before.” The golden griffons grinned as his eyes went wide. “So we took the extra of introducing her to our customs, and let's just say, she hasn't woken up since!”

Spike blinked. “What...what did you just say?”

“She's currently in the castle, locked up in a room.” He nodded to the castle just up the walkway, two griffons standing guard by the gate. “To be beaten with every transgression against our kind, with good punishment to what you did to our prince.”

Spike's eyes narrowed as a flame burned behind them. He didn't bother looking back. “You...you've been hurting her?”

“Oh yes.” The griffon laughed, rising and resting a talon on the drake's shoulder. “She's been terrible fun while we've been not, though if you want our games to cease, then leave immediately.”

Spike glared down at him.

“You will be given further instruction once by myself once you are beyond this city.” He brought his beak close to the drake's ear-fin. “Failure to cooperate will not only result in the death of your pegasus but of the four princesses we have locked inside.”

The griffon would have laughed had not he'd be grabbed by the throat, the claw clenching tighter around it, lifting it up into the air. He tried looking down, but his vision swam with blurriness.

“You mean to tell me that my marefriend is injured!” Spike clenched the throat in his grasp tighter, walking down the pavement steps. “Along with those who I care about most, and it's all your kind’s doing!?”

“Y-Yes!” the white one said, stepping up to the spectacle. “And if you don't put him down, we won't hesitate to—“ he was interrupted by the flying body of his partner, crashing into him and knocking him to the floor.

“I can handle you stealing my bits, my comics, and my treasure.” Spike's voice turned to the growl as he had his head down, his every step impacting the pavement underfoot. “Most dragons would take a mountain of jewels for their horde, but I'm not most dragons.” An aura of power manifested around the dragon as came before the two reaming griffons. “My family, my friends?! Those are my hoard and my hoard alone!”

The green and yellow griffon drew their swords at once, rising to their hind legs and taking a stance. “Y-You better stop before—“

“You DARE defy the rage of a dragon!?” Spike took one of the blades with his claw, paying no mind to the sensation as he ripped it from the talon, then smashing the butt of the sword into its owners face. “Nothing, and I repeat nothing.” The other blade came slicing down at him, but Spike caught it with his wrist. “Is stopping me from protecting the ones I care about!” He smashed his wrist, along with the dull side of the sword, straight into the griffins face, who fell back from the impact.

Spike flinched as something stabbed into his side, another an inch into his neck. He looked to see arrows protruding from his body. “You think this would stop me!?” He took both of them out, breaking them in half with the same claw. “Do you have any idea who you're doing with!?”

“S-Stand down!” the griffon with the bow shouted, readying the next arrow. “There's enough of us h-here to stage a rebellion! You don't stand a chance!”

“Let's just see about that!” Spike busted forward, the two griffons who'd back away before charging at him now with their swords already drawn, and behind them, the two other griffons already had their bows drawn.

Spike saw the first blade flying down at him, stepping to the left and pressing his claw down on the back of the blade, flying his fist into the face of the griffon seconds afterward. The second griffon came at him vertically with the sword, but was grabbed by the throat before he could hope to swing, dropping the blade upon impact.

“Fire!”

Spike grabbed him by the hind legs and held him vertically, hearing the arrows shoot into the creature's back. He then tossed him into the air, then spinning around and picking up speed, delivering a roundhouse kick right into the soft belly and sending the poor guy flying across the ground—right into the last two griffons.

Spike walked past them, each struggling under the weight of their unconscious ally.

“You...won't make it past the gates,” one of them said, then, dipping their beaks and blowing a whistle around their necks. The high-pitch sound made the drake finch, but never broke his stride toward the castle. “You may be a dragon, but a dragon can't beat an army!”

“You talk—“ a purple tail hovered over the fallen two, slamming into their faces a second later “—too much.”

From the castle gate and windows, many griffons peered the sight, some with beaks open and others clamped tight, all yelling and converging, flooding down the stairs and out the doors. The wave of guards kept coming and coming in a study stream as they came to meet the dragon responsible for the intrusion—blades and malice and other such weapons already drawn.

'You sure know how to draw in a crowd kid,' Greed said, chuckling at the sight of doom just feet away. 'Half-dead and operating on borrowed energy, first fight ever just hours ago. I'm almost proud of your will alone.'

Spike clenched his claws at the sight of the upcoming foes, picking up the pace to meet them.

'But, tell me, after all that you have experienced, after all you have learned,' Greed went on, 'do you seriously think you can take these guys alone?'

“Not at all,” Spike said, coming to roar in a way no longer high-pitched. “But what kind of dragon would I be if I didn't attempt the improbable?!”

The first wave of griffins came at him with swords flying down in fours, the drake collecting them all along his wrist and wincing in pain, raising it, and by proxy, them into the air before slamming them to the right. The second wave attacked while he was opening, this time it was them who flinched when their blade sunk into his left wrist.

“Running around castle ground with sharp objects is off limits!” Spike cried as he slammed the four to the left, then, with a grunt and focus on his core muscles, spun himself and the lot around, twisting his wrists near the completion of the spin and dislodging the blades, sending the eight flying into the third wave.

Spike stumbled back, then forward again with his palm next to his mouth. “If you plan on being better guests, then start reading the rules!” He cocked his fist back, twisted his tail, blew a stream of green flames on his fist, then rocket forward. “Let me be the one to recount them for you!”

Just moments before the fourth wave, Spike let his tail spin feet and give him extra speed, allowing his flaming fist to smash into four beaks until his momentum slowed down. The rest of the griffons circled him, swinging their swords horizontally, though he ducked just in time, and with his remaining momentum, swiped his tail underneath most of their legs. '

“Rule one!” Spike shouted as he rose again, sliding to the left to avoid a slashing blade, silvering a punch forward. “Be mindful of your surroundings and those around you—never know who you might bump into!”

Two griffons rushed toward him with their blades ready to stab, smiles gracing their beaks as their swords grazed his sides, then frowning once he held his arms against them and leaned back, the griffons lifted into the air and then smashing into the pavement on the other side, head first.

'Spike, to the right of you!'

Spike leaned back even further as a blade soared above his chest. The griffon attached off-talon at not having expected to strike so far. The drake stepped back and slammed his forehead into the back of his opponent's head, the force making an indent in the pavement below. “Hey!” he said, rising back to his feet and glancing at the plethora of griffons that surrounded him. “You're useful for something!”

'I've always been useful, kid,' replied Greed, 'but no matter how many times I switch up my tacit, you never seem to get that. Almost dubbing you a lost cause and going dormant—better to spend my years silent with a fantasy.'

“I know, I know.” Spike winced as twin sword dug into his back, causing him to stumbled forward—right into an upright mace strike into his crotch. He fell on his knees, covering said areas, once again glad his pride and joy had failed to show up. “I'd always—oh geez this hurts—I'd always assumed you were a part of what makes me dragon—please Celestia when will this end—which made you a bad thing.”

“Who is this freak talking to?!” said the one with the malice, swinging the blood off his weapon.

“Dunno. Hit him again!”

“I've realized that greed doesn't have to be evil!” A malice then struck the drake across the face, and yet, he refused to be sent flying. “You are not—“ a swing left “—an inherently evil—“ a swing right “—thing!” The malice connected with his jaw, which sent him flying backward an inch. “I may have the heart of a pony, but that doesn't mean I should deny what makes me a dragon!”

The griffons flooded around them, each tapping their blades and other such arms into their free talon. “There's nothing wrong with having a horde and protecting it with the roar of a dragon!” Spike clenched his claws as his eyes burned a brighter green. “I'm a dragon, through and through, but it's through my heart that I decide what I want to do with that power—the power doesn't choose for me!”

'Yes, yes yes yes!'

The griffons collective brought their weapons down on the drake

A green beam of magic shot down at the center of the circle, enveloping the dragon and the resulting gust of magic sending everyone else flying back. Few rose to their talons so quickly, gazing onto the bright green light, beaks going agape at the black silhouette that stood within the magic.

“Finally! Finally, you understand!” Greed's voice rocketed through the magic, vibrating through the ground with every pulse of magic. “What you are, who you are, is not the enemy you should be fighting! Potential locked away at petty insistence, but no longer!”

The black silhouette standing at the core of the green beam began to grow, growing taller and taller than any griffin amassed here. The creature inside planted his feet apart, crushing through the pavement on impact alone, clutching his arms back and unleashing a roar which pitch had never been heard before—the sound so great that some fighters fell over and did not awake.

“What makes a true dragon?!” Greed' voice whipped harder and harder, a burst of energy blasting everyone out the area, green electricity capturing their bodies. “Is it his scales or his fangs, his claws or his hoards? Those he killed or those he mated?”

“The answer is no!” replied a voice nearly as deep, the silhouette raising a claw high into the stream of the beam. “A dragon is not defined by his size nor the color of the scales, but by his will!”

“Correct!” The beam became thinner as two black objects prodded out of the dragon's back, growing larger as the beam shrank. “If you have the will to oppose those who stand in your way, the trust to stand tall, and the power to protect that which you treasure, none of the right to oppose you of your heirarchy!”

“Griffons, take aim!” More flooded from the castle, filing row after row just before the gate, with muskets in their talons and all ready to aim. This stacked back of ten rows, the last bunch with their back pressing against the castle door. “While his back is still turned. Fire!”

Shot after shot, gun power after gunpowder, fired at the dragon without any time to turn around, but when he did, the all projectiles floated within the aurora of his magic, causing him to raise a claw and notice the green aurora around it.

“Magic?” he said, feeling his chamber grow brighter.

“The one who hatched you left you with a surge of their power.” Greed's voice dwindled in tandem to the shrinking beam. “It has been festering with your innate power ever since, the reason for the magic in your flames, only now it's under our control!” Spike looked on to the soldiers readying their next shot. “What shall we do of them? A fitting end to be had at their own bullets.”

“No.” Spike threw his claw down, and all the matter shot down into the pavement. Feeling the obstructions on his back, he infused the remaining energy of the beam into them, giving them mighty flaps as the force sent him rocketing into the air—the lingering exhaust of magic shock-waving across the soldiers and sending them all flying and scattered.

Spike looked down at the castle, the sight-stealing his breath as he hovered in the air. Then, with a bit of reluctance, he looked over his shoulder and at the things keeping him airborne—his very own pair of wings. “No way!”

'You last gift,' said greed, voice returned to normal. 'The wings you since long denied, proof that you are a dragon and granting you right to soar the skies. With the existence of your magic, they can retract easily inside your back.'

“This is awesome!” Spike couldn't hold back the excitement in his voice as he giggled into his claws, surprised at how light his body felt, but no longer hollow like the events of the day had made him. “I feel like a hero straight out of my comics!”

'Guess some things never change with you, hero.' Greed said with a chuckle. 'If this is how it's gonna be, then your damsel in distress is still waiting inside that castle, is she not?'

“You're right,” Spike said, beginning to sway in the air as control of the wings was being granted to him. “If you're gonna be my sidekick, then you need a serious name change.”

Spike gave a mighty flap of his wings and propelled forward from the impact, speeding like a bullet towards the glass, mostly because he had no control over his wings.

'Oh?' Greed's voice cut through the whipping wind.

“Desire!” Spike shouted over the wind, clenching his eyes as he braced for impact. “From now on, your name will be desire!”

'Desire, eh?' Glass shattered around them as they shot over the carpet, the wings unfurling themselves and taking away their speed. 'Not bad, not bad whatsoever. Tentative, but I'll keep the ring.'

With a great flap of the wings, Spike landed on the carpet. He stood up, far taller than he could remember as he looked down at the griffons, glass collected around his entry. Magic formed around his claw, the same appearing around his wings, which merged transparently into his back.

“Now then!” Spike threw out his arms wide as if to take all the griffons before him on. “I've already taken the first half of you lot on when I was dying of exhaustion, but I would be more than happy to take you on again in this new form.” He threw his claws up and took a stance. “I'll take you all on. I'll take on the army inside this castle and tear through to find the princess, to find my marefriend!”

He grabbed the air and tossed it aside, a gust of wind tearing through space because of it. “You're all just cannon fodder! Show me to where you're keeping your prisoners!”

“I can show you.”

Spike exhaled in delight, not actually wanting to fight. Even in his new form, with the adrenaline starting to fade, he found the act of fighting terrifying, and would not be able to continue doing so were it not save those he loved.

He turned around, looking up at the distant staircase, and what he saw injected him with fear that no fight could ever hope to measure up to. Moonlight glittered through the broken memorial, there was no wind, but her ethereal mane floated anyway, every color of the rainbow yet twinkling with the brilliance of a star.

“M-Mom?!”

Princess Celestia stood at the top of the staircase, the griffons all with their heads bowed—equally as afraid at the maternal terror that the alicorn so effortlessly exuded from her being. The dragon was quick to bend, any excuse to escaping her scathing gaze.

“You, young dragon, have a lot to answer for.” Princess Celestia turned to the right, disappearing into a corridor. “We shall discuss your recent behavior in the tea room.” When she heard no footsteps, she shouted again. “At once!”

Spike quickly scampered after his mother.





YOUR MOTHER IS A PRINCESS OF EQUESTRIA, PRINCESS CELESTIA HERSELF?

“Crazy, right?” Spike had his eyes on the door he'd enter from, raising an eyebrow at not having heard any knocking in a while. “Twilight hatched me, but she was too young actually to raise me, so Celestia saw it as her duty to care for me until she was ready to. I don't think she meant to get as attached as she did, and, well, the deal was done when she started calling me her son.”

YOU ARE A STRANGE DRAKE IN AN EVEN STRANGER SITUATION. Death signed the bottom of the page, pushing it aside and beginning to write on the last one. BUT EVERYTHING BUILDS UP TO HIS? ALL THIS DEVELOPMENT AND FIGHTING, ALL THIS SEARCHING AND FRIENDSHIPS, ALL TO HAVE TEA WITH YOUR MOTHER?

“If it's any consolation,” Spike said, “she was the second scariest thing I dealt with today.”

SECOND?





“You haven't sent me any letters.”

The words were calm, said over two cups of tea, but made Spike tremble with fear. Nervously chuckling, he picked up his cup. “Are are you talking about? I've sent you letters every day for the past few weeks!”

“Yes, letters detailing your day,” Celestia said, dipping her muzzle past her cup. She sipped gracefully, betraying her rage. “Had I want of such things, I would inquire to Twilight of your well being, no, the letters were to keep me up to date about yourself.”

“There's been nothing going on with me, mom.”

“Spike?”

“Yes?”

“You've covered in blood and taller than me.” Celestia pulled back from the tea, glaring at her son. “Honestly, I wouldn't so concerned were it not for the fact that some of that blood is of your own!” Spike wasn't sure how to feel about that, but after a few moments, was glad to hear that. “To make matters worse, you broke up with your marefriend without telling anyone? Don't you ever consider how this would make anyone else feel?”

Spike lasted only a few seconds under her gaze, fearing shifting to shame as he looked away, out the sole window into the moon up high—had day already ended? He'd spent his whole day getting here, facing all those who got in his way, including himself, just make sure he'd deliver a letter to someone, and now that he'd finally made it, he was forced to look back on the path that got him here.

He didn't like what he saw.

“I...I didn't think at all, and I'm sorry.” He dipped his head in shame, under to look at anything but his reflection in the glass table. He had trouble recognizing his face, it sharper than ever before and covered in blood. “The truth is I didn't trust you girls, that if you found out what lurked under all these scales, that you'd stop caring so much about me. I wanted to be the dragon you saw me as, that I hid everything underneath the surface, believing that if I just worked a little harder, that then I could reveal everything to you.”

Spike raised his head, looking into his mother's eyes with soft determination.

“I should have known that I couldn't be perfect.” Spike felt the corner of his eyes burn, raising a claw to wipe them. “That If I'd just trusted you, Twilight, and especially Rainbow, that I would have made a lot more progress when it mattered more.”

Celestia stared at him for a moment, watching her son beginning to cry, until, she could take it no longer, rising from her seat and circling the table, throwing her forelegs over his shoulders and pulling him closer to against her chest. “Oh, my Spikey!”

Spike wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her close.

“You should know better!” Celestia said, pulling back just enough to nuzzle his cheek. He didn't hesitate to repay the act. “You are my son, and because of that alone, I will love you forever, even when you come close to destroying my nation and causing an all-out war.”

“Thank you, mom. You don't know how badly I needed to hear that.” Spike then blinked, her words repeating internally. “Wait. What's this about a war?”

Celestia pulled back from the hug, a knowing smile playing at her muzzle. “Do you remember how you elicited one of my guards to be a temporary princess?”

“Kinda.”

“Well, apparently he managed to declare war on the nation of griffons,” she said, rolling her eyes at the memory. “I doubt that he did so—my paperwork was neatly stacked, and tea brewed upon my return—but a griffon diplomat stated we had, in fact, declared war, and it was in the good graces of their kind that we come to negations.”

“So wait.” Spike blinked and pointed a thumb out the window. “You're telling me that all those griffons I fought were here for peaceful negations?”

“Yup.”

“And I could have just declared war against them?”

“Yup.”

“I am so, so so sorry.”

“Oh, try not to worry about it too much.” Celestia smiled as she sat down, tilted her head—she looked too cute for her own good. “I saw your moves, so if war breaks out, I'll be sure to send you to lead the guard.”

“Ah, crud.”

“A-A-Ah!” Celestia booped him on the snout. “Those who start wars don't get to complain about cleaning them up afterward. Oh! But you have to promise not to get too hurt.”

Spike shook his head. “I don't get it! The griffons I saw made it sound like they were keeping you like hostages!”

“Oh, they were.” Celestia rose from the ground, walking to the window. “We were not allowed to send out any letters or contact any outside forces about what was happening—they didn't even let us inform you that Rainbow Dash had arrived.”

“So she is here!” Spike shot up from his chair, quickly approaching his mother. “I have something very important to show her,” he looked over his shoulder, seeing an oversized doughnut on the tray—he picked it up, “and something to tell her.”

Celestia was silent. She stared out at the sky.

“C'mon, Celestia!” Spike shook his claws. “You would not believe the stuff that I went through today just to get to get here today. I need to see her! There's so much I've learned, so much she was right about, that she needs to know!”

“Spike,” Celestia said, turning around with her expression solemn. “What you're about to see is not your fault, no matter how much you may feel it is. You can't hold anything but misfortune at the cause of this, okay?!”

“Mom, come on now, you're scaring me!” Spike felt his eyes burning again, not liking the air around him whatsoever. Something felt horrible, wickedly wrong, like he'd stepped into a nightmare that turned out to be a reality. “Just show me to where Rainbow is!”

Celestia sighed, and with a head bowed, lead the way.





YOU CAUSED A WAR BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH YOUR MOTHER? said Death, head tilted. YOU STARTED A WAR BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT THOSE YOU LOVED WERE ENDANGERED?

“I'm still trying to get used to this kinda caring business!” Spike said, crossing his arms in defense. “I'd denied my dragon urges for so long that I just wanted to cut loose, but that doesn't quite excuse starting a war—“

IT DOESN'T, said Death, gesturing at the floating platform of timers set to expire soon. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAPERWORK COMES WITH STARTING A WAR?

“A lot?”

YES. A TON, TO BE EXACT.

“Oh, well I'm sorry.” Spike shifted in his seat, unsure of what to say or do.

WAIT. YOU SAID YOU CAME HERE YOU COULD SAVE ME OF THIS WORK. Death looked back to the timer of the Elements Bearer's, nothing different about them since the first time he looked, that was, until he examined them more thoroughly. WHAT IS THIS?

Six hourglasses stood with their own color of sand, that was, except for the last one to the right that had more than one color. Death picked this one up, making the drake frown and lower his head, and with a shake, removed any magical interference.

The sand returned to blue and was nearly poured through.

OH, NOW I SEE.





“She's...just past this door.”

“Rainbow!” Spike called out into the dark room, an infirmity by the looks of the many beds, though only one stood out. The girls stood around the bed, moonlight draping across their still bodies, unmoving even at the sounds of a newcomer. “G-Girls? You're here too?”

Spike rushed across the room to where a red carpet in two, but was stopped by a white unicorn in the middle. He glared down at her, anger rising alongside his panic. “Rarity, get out of the way—I don't have time to deal with you!”

“Wait!” Rarity said, pleading with her voice. She threw her forehooves around his torso, refusing to move or let go. “Before you do anything, had I known anything about this all, I wouldn't have played these petty games. Oh dear Celestia, Spike, I didn't know!”

“What!?” Spike said with anger in his voice, but in all honesty, the mare was sobbing, and he found it hard to be mad at her for much longer. Sighing, he rested a claw on her head, patting it awkwardly. “Look, what happened today is behind us, alright? Do you still have her letter?”

Rarity nodded, black eyeliner running down her cheeks. Her horn lit blue, and the magic appeared out of her mane, with the letter inside its grasp.

Spike grabbed it, gave her a nod, then moved toward the bed.

What he saw moved him to tears.

“No...no!” Spike fell to his knees at the side of his bed, shoulders falling on their own. “What...what happened to her, who did this!?”

“Spike,” a calm voice said, and he looked to see Twilight. “This...this isn't your fault.”

“Not my fault, not my fault!?” Spike looked back at the mare in the bed, beginning to sob at how she had more dry blood patched to her coat. “I'm so sorry Rainbow. I'm so sorry!”

Rainbow Dash began to shift in the bed, eyes slowing opening, seeming almost too weak to do so. The world took a few moment to swim into focus, but when it did, the first thing she saw was her ex—something which had never caused her to smile.

“H-Hey big guy.”

Spike wiped his claw, occupying the space closest to the bed. “R-Right back at ya.” He gulped, clasping her forehoof with both claws. “W-What happened to you?”

Rainbow laughed, but coughed up blood instead. “Oh, y'know, just the usual—trying a trick I shouldn't have attempted.”

“That's not what Dumbell said,” Spike said, feeling his voice choked. “I hashed things out with him today, and he said you tried flying to C-Canterlot after drinking.”

Rainbow couldn't hold it back anymore as the tears busted from the corner of her eyes. “Oh, Spike! I'm so sorry!' She sobbed willing, in front of friends and princesses, but most importantly, in front of the one she loved. “I just...I just couldn't shake you after our breakup, that I went around and did a bunch stuff, and decided to top it off flying drunk through a storm.”

“Then...then...”

“I couldn't see the mountain,” Rainbow with a laugh or a sob, either way, it sprouted more blood, “I couldn't see the mountain! I didn't see the c-castle, I-I didn't see the ground, I-I—“

“Enough!” Spike brought his arms around her neck as carefully as he could managed, pushing himself forward to take her into his embrace. “I...I get it...I get it! Please, no more...” He kissed the top of bruised forehead. “Just, just tell me you'll be alright and no more.”

Rainbow was silent.

“Just tell me you will be alright!”

Rainbow smiled, and nothing hurt Spike more.

“You look a lot bigger since our break up,” Rainbow whispered the words out, “must have really hit the gym to get back at me, huh? You seem a lot more confident now—don't think you've ever touched me without my life being in danger!”

“D-Dash, this isn't funny!” Spike glared over at Celestia. “Why didn't you send a letter or anything like that!”

“The griffons came before her,” Celestia said with her head low, “they denied us any right to send anything out. It was only after your battle I had escort carriages sent to everyone—I wanted to give you time to prepare and for the rest of the Elements to get here.”

“That's another thing I heard,” Rainbow said, her voice barely audible, but Spike snapped his attention to her immediately, “apparently, you won a lot of fights that you didn't need me to save you from—“ she coughed more blood “—guess all the qualities I had in the relationship are starting to fade out.”

“No, not at all!” Spike pressed his forehead against hers, staring into her dim, rosy eyes. He fell in love all over again. “It was wrong of me to regard as you perfect, as beyond my league. I was happy, and you were happy, and I should have been content with that, instead of this happening.”

Rainbow's smile faded. “W-What are you talking about, Spike? You turned out into everything I knew you could...be...” Her eyes began to drift shut. “I'm the one who forced too much on you, the one who could herself busted because you cared too much...this isn't...your...fault...”

Rainbow said no more.

“Rainbow? Rainbow?” He lifted her cheek to no response. “Hey, come on now, I didn't tell you my day like we always do after coffee. There was this stand up show you may have found funny, and a flying train that became my friend, as well as that rock band you like. My feelings about you have changed so much!”

Spike wept.

“I went from wanting nothing to do with you because you'd gotten my hopes up, before realizing you were right about me all along.” He gently laid her cheek back on the pillow, choking as he tried to keep the sobs out from his voice. “To wanting to apologize, then admitting our breakup was a mistake, and then, finally, after so much wasted time.” He took raised the claws both with the letter and the doughnut. “R-Remember the dream I thought I was keeping you from, turns out I was a great big liar!”

He placed the letter on the bed, matting it with his tears. Hyperventilating for a few seconds, he doubted if he could go on, but knew he had to, even if nothing mattered anymore.

“For so long, when I thought about you, I'd denied what I felt about you.” Spike raised her hoof, tears coming unbidden at how limply it moved. “How much I wanted to touch, how much I wanted to kiss but, above all, how much I wanted you.” He slipped the doughnut up her hoof, hating himself more and more. “You said if you ever wanted a wedding ring, that you wanted it to be edible. I...I hope you like this.”

Spike let her hoof drop back onto the bed, falling to his knees finally, lowering his head.

“Rainbow Dash, no matter our flaws, I know together, that we can make progress.” Spike sucked in through his nostrils and wiped his eyes, his inner-self turmoil as he needed to brave this one last pain for her. “I don't want a life where you're not in it, because there's nopony else like you in it, somepony pushing me toward my better self.”

Then, with a face void of sadness, Spike looked up at his love with a smile.

“Rainbow Dash, will you marry me?”


And then Rainbow Dash died.

> VIII – Of Marriage Till Death Do Us Part
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


~ VIII ~

Of Marriage Till Death Do Us Part


Spike had forgotten how long he'd stayed like that, at the foot of the bed with his claw on her hoof, gliding a thumb over her fur, never growing bored of the simple sensation—something Rainbow was able to give him, something that she could keep giving him, so long as he severed moved for the rest of his life.

A life without Rainbow wasn't much of one to begin with.

“Spike.”

Spike knew to just ignore them, that, after a while, the voices would go away.

“Spike, you have to let go.”

Spike didn't have to do anything. He was a dragon, and dragons protected their treasure. They let nothing get in their way, because they were dragons.

“Spike, please! You're scaring us.”

Spike stopped stroking his dead marefriend's hoof, just long enough to stand up, turn around, and grab Celestia. “Something...”

“W-What?”

“Something!” Spike cried, shaking her back and forth. “There must be something you can do, anything to save her!”

“Spike's, it's already too late!”

“No. No!” Spike shook his head, looking to the rest of the girls gathered. Tears were dry against their cheeks and they were silent. “We never give up, no matter what! There must be something, anything, just please, save her!”

Twilight didn't dare to raise her head, but she looked up at Spike. “There's...one thing we can do, but it won't do much.”

Spike whipped to her. “Yes, please, anything!”

Twilight looked to the girls, each and everyone, gauging each of their reactions. When all she got was a solemn nod, she bowed her head, closing her eyes and igniting her horn. A trail of thin lavender stretched out through her friends, each on flinching as the trail phased through them, both end connecting inside Rainbow.

Spike watched on with baited breath, claws brought over his mouth. He waited and waited, the magic so quiet yet loud to his ears, every individual beat of his heart felt as the seconds could not last longer. And then, it happened, something that made everything hurt just a little less.

Rainbow Dash breathed.

“R-Rainbow!” Spike exclaimed, claiming her hoof and stroking it. “Y-You're alive! But, why aren't you opening your eyes?”

“It's because she never can, Spike.” A chill coursed through his body, Spike looking over his shoulder at Twilight. “That spell drains energy from each of us to maintain her brain and her lungs, but as soon as the spell is over...things will return to how they once were.”

“But Twilight, it can't—“

Twilight was shivering.

Spike sighed, moving towards her while on his knees and quickly taking her into his embrace. She draped for forehooves over his back and rested her head on his shoulder, crying while he stroked her mane—something he used to do when they were still very young.

Spike gazed upon all the girls, each silent and some turning away, and he nodded, knowing exactly what it was they thought, what they felt. Finally, his eyes came to a stop on the princess, who failed to keep up her poker face.

“M-Mom.” Spike shook his head. “I mean, Princess Celestia, is there truly nothing we can do?”

“I...no.”

Spike blinked. “You...hesitated.”

“There,” Celestia inhaled deeply, “is nothing we can do. You have to accept that.”

“Mom,” Spike began, hugging Twilight as tightly as he could, before letting her go to stand up. “If there is something I can to fix this, if there is anything at all, you have to tell me now. I don't care if I have to go to Tartarus, I don't even care if I have to offer my life in exchange!” He stood before her now, looking down at her in a way would never dare before. “

Celestia kept silent for a moment, looking to the girls for support, finding none. She sighed, and with great reluctance, and pain evident in her tone, she said of her son the entry to the underworld.





“Then I traveled down here, fought a few creatures along the way, answered to a a gatekeeper called Vengeful Spirit who kept shifting the narrative of his riddles, before, finally, I got stuck at that door.”

IT HAS COME FULL CIRCLE, murmured Death, sighing the last piece of paper. He picked up the paged in his hand, stacking them against the desk, putting them aside and then staring at the drake. SO THIS IS IT. EVERYTHING IS EXPLAINED AND ALL IS CAUGHT UP. Death pulled up his hood, a shadow covering his face. NOW, SPIKE THE DRAGON, ALL IS LEFT IS FOR YOU AND ME TO MAKE A DEAL.

“Spike the dragon?!” exclaimed a voice behind the door, which was then banged on. “I know the name of the bugger. That's the one that crushed my life and my ambition with a hot air balloon—let me at him at once!”

Death snapped his fingers, there was no more background noise.

BEFORE WE BEGIN THIS, said Death, YOU MUST KNOW WE ARE PROCEEDING THIS DEAL AS MORTAL AND IMMORTAL, NO DIFFERENT FROM HOW THIS ALL BEGAN. YOU UNDERSTAND THIS?

“I do,” Spike nodded. For the first time in a while, he stood up from his chair. “I said I wouldn't hold you accountable, and I intend to keep my word. You have to be Death here, and I understand that perfectly.”

Death took the blue hourglass and set it on the desk.

“You alright if I try to score a deal for griffon prince back there?” Spike said, pointing to the door with a thumb. “Figured I can save a lot of hassle upstairs and you a lot of paperwork down here.”

Death shrugged his shoulder, taking a the white hourglass and placing it on the desk.

YOU ARE NOT AN UNTOUCHABLE. Death took down his hourglass, holding it out on display. YOU WILL SOMEDAY DIE, WHICH IS THE ONLY REASON WHY WE CAN MAKE THIS DEAL He set it down on the desk, not a grain of sand having passed through. RELATIVELY SPEAKING TO THESE TWO, YOUR LIFE WILL SPAN MILLENNIUMS EVEN AFTER THEY ARE LONG GONE.

“Yeah,” Spike said, looking down, “I know.”

DO NOT TAKE THOSE YEARS OF LIFE SO LIGHTLY, said Death. I HAD MY DOUBTS ABOUT YOU AT FIRST, BUT AFTER HEARING OF YOUR TALE, I KNOW YOU WILL ROCK THE WORLD ABOVE IN SOME WAY. ARE YOU SURE YOU ARE WILLING TO SACRIFICE SUCH A LIFE FOR THESE TWO.

Spike didn't even hesitate. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Death lifted the purple timer, handing shaking as he did so. SPIKE...

“It's okay,” Spike said, nodding. “Do it.”

Death took the top off of all three hourglasses, looking once more to Spike for confirmation, before pouring his sand into the hourglass. The purple sand turned to the respective color of that hourglass, not filling the chamber past what was there before.

THERE, said Death, putting the tops back on the two hourglasses. IT IS DONE. He looked to Spike. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE SOME FUN BEFORE YOU DIE?

“Fun?” Spike shrugged. He was dead now, so it wasn't like anything could kill him. “Sure!”

Death stood up and snapped his fingers, spawning a black robe around the drake, cloaking his face. Spike chuckled, but was quickly hushed as Death snapped his fingers again, and the white griffon manifested inside the room.

“What in good feathers!” Missy looked around the room to find that it stretched to infinite length, shocking his heart. “Oh my, oh me, I couldn't possibly be!”

YOU ARE. Missy turned around, beak going ajar as he backed away. YOUR CRIMES ABOVE HAS BROUGHT YOU DOWN HERE FOR JUDGEMENT.

“Judgment!” Spike did his best not to snicker, earning a light punch to the back from Death, of which, Missy did not see. “You stand guilty before the divine court of starting war based upon a fake deceleration of such.”

“Fake! Why I'll be!” Missy stormed up to the cloak figure, losing confidence every inch he had to look up to make eye contact. “That letter was—“

MANIFESTED BY YOURSELF TO STAGE A PLOT TO CONQUER EQUESTRIA, Death said, slamming the end of the scythe into the ground. YOUR MANLUPATIONS MAY BE MISSED UNDER MORTAL EYES, BUT WHEN THE TIME COMES ALL MUST PERISH, ALL CRIMES ARE BROUGHT UNDERNEATH THE OBJECTIVE EYE.

“So, t-then you know everything?”

“Everything!” Spike said.

“E-Everything?”

“Everything!”

“Everything?”

“Yes,” Spike said, “including that!”

Missy threw himself at their feet. “Please, I beg of you, I'm just an insecure soul trying to make my father happy. I thought gifting him a nation would make him proud, but I didn't think further than that.” He started kissing the floor. “Please don't take me now, let me repent, in some way or fashion! Please, a second chances is all I ask!”

Spike looked to Death.

Death looked to Spike.

They gave one another a thumbs up.

IT IS UNCOMMON FOR MORTAL TO GET A SECOND CHANCE.

“Oh, but please! I'm begging you.”

“Hmm, it has been done before!” Spike said, looking over at his partner. “If there is still time for the mistake to be retracted for the future wellness of everyone.”

“That!” Missy raised her head, looking up at the two giants. “The war hasn't been enacted, my rule is still supreme! Return me to how I once was, and I swear to you, my kind will leave the ponies be!”

Death picked the griffon up by the throat, holding him close to his face. THIS BETTER NOT BE A LIE OR A FALSE ESCAPE.

“H-Honest! Please don't kill me!”

DEATH KILLS NO ONE, said Death, dropping him. I ONLY CLAIM. BUT BE THIS A TRICK, AND YOU SHALL SEE THIS FACE AGAIN.

With a snap, the prince disappeared, once and for all.

Spike looked at Death.

Death looked at Spike.

The two burst out in laughter.

“He bought it, he actually bought it!” Spike wiped the tears at his eyes as his chest felt light. “I thought he was going to see through it—why does Death have a dragon sidekick?”

MORTALS, UPON SEEING FOR THE FIRST TIME PAST THEIR REALM, WILL BELIEVE ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. Death wiped a tear under his eyes, remembering that he was a skeleton and skeletons couldn't cry. This made him want to cry all the more. YOU ARE AMONG THE FEW TALK AND NOT GIVE INTO DESPAIR WITH ME. AS WEIRD AS IT IS TO SAY THIS, I ENJOYED MY TIME WITH YOU.

“As did I.” Spike lifted the robe up over his head and placed it on the table, rubbing his claws as he turned around. “Well, I guess this is it. Better get the show on the road.”

THAT IS IS. Death wielded his scythe, hovering it over the dragon's neck. YOU ARE OUT OF TIME, AND THEREFORE LIFE. DO YOU HAVE ANY LAST REQUESTS?

“I don't suppose it would be possible to see all my friends and family one last time.”

THE MOMENT YOU RETURN HOME IS THE MOMENT YOU CEASE TO EXIST, said Death. YOU EXIST HER ONLY BECAUSE TIME DOES NOT FUNCTION DOWN HERE.

“I see.” Spike shrugged. “Well, let's get this over with.”

Death went to pull the blade, but for whatever reason, he was having difficulty finishing the act. Something was stopping him, something he was unsure of and hadn't felt before in his existence. A thought struck, one that he repelled for it called on his kindness, but the more he stared at the dragon who had his eyes closed in acceptance, the more he realized he had no choice in the matter.

I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU, BEFORE YOU GO.

“Ask me anything.”

WHEN YOU ASKED RAINBOW DASH TO MARRY YOU...

“Yes?”

DID SHE SAY YES?





“I'm telling you, I just woke up feeling great!” Rainbow Dash sprouted as she hovered in the air, gazing back at them as if they weren't really there. “One second I'm saying goodbyes like I'm dying, and in the next, I'm doing backflips because I got accepted into the Wonderbolts!”

Spike grinned as he listened to his marefriend's tale. “I know I know, you told me all about it, twice. In fact, I was the one that went through all that stuff just to get you the letter.”

“Oh please, stop making yourself sound so important.” Rainbow bopped in on the snout and was very pleased with herself for doing so. “Twilight was heading to Cloudsdale so I would have gotten the letter anyway, if anything, you should be grateful for leaving that basement for all the gains ya got on you.” She delivered a few soft punches to his belly, absorbed easily by his flexible scales.

“Well, as long as it makes you happy.” Spike was taken aback when Rainbow threw herself against his chest, draping her forehooves over his back, resting her head on his shoulder. “R-Rainbow?”

“I know I haven't been the best at expressing my feelings,” Rainbow whispering, moving her lips closer to his head. “But I'm really, really happy you tried to hard to find me.”

“It was my fault for losing you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her close. “Breaking up with you was the greatest mistake I could of ever made, and I'm glad you're giving me a second chance, much less this!” He gestured to a claw to the rest of Death's domain, which was occupied the Elements of Harmony and Celestia.

“When a big dork who risks his life to save you asks ya to marry him, he's pretty much a keeper after that!” Rainbow giggled, pulling back so that she could see his face. “Dunno why we have to it have it so soon, though, or why is it has to be down here.”

“One of Death's conditions for letting you live,” Spike replied, wiping a claw under her left eye to pick a stray tear. “He's a really nice guy if you get to know him, maybe a little too good at his job, but that's hardly to something to fault him for.”

“Dunno. He still gives me the creeps.”

Spike went to comment when he heard a knocking at the door, surprising all present, though he was the only one to get the door. He turned the knob quite easily this time around, throwing back the door.

“Choo-hoo!” A flying train soared through the door and up above Death's domain, making happier sounds the lower its descent. “Choo-ooo-ooo-ooo?”

“Of course buddy!” Spike laughed as he closed the door, walking off to the side to greet the flying train. Dash watched on with equal mirth, before spotting Rarity standing off to herself.

“Hey Rares,” Rainbow said, startling Rarity as she had been staring off into space—quite literal here. “This place giving you bad vibes as well?”

“Oh, Rainbow Dash, I um.” Rarity looked around, whispering closer to her friend. “Does I really look so out of place here?”

“We all do,” Rainbow said. “Even the big guy who owns the place is looking a bit nervous, probably never been the life of the party before.”

Rarity blinked, then realized she was meant to laugh.

'That's quite the funny on indeed!” Rarity tried to laugh, to toss everything to the past, but try as she might, it didn't weigh well with her in the end. She took a sharp breath. “Listen, Rainbow Dash, there is something I must tell you.”

“And there's something I gotta ask as well, but you go first.”

“I have been nothing but a petty, jealous mare that is more malevolent than she can ever hope to realize.” Rarity looked away in shame. “When you won Spikey from me, I came to realize that he was something that I wanted and I could no longer have, and for whatever reason, it just drove me to the edge to win him back. I toyed with his heart so meticulous, while, all the while, you were laying in that—“

“It's okay, Rarity,” Rainbow said, throwing her forehoof over the mare's neck. “You're hardly the only one to mess up in the few days. We all learned something from this, and it's better we move on so we can progress even further!”

“D-Do you think, that in due time, you could ever come to forgive me?'

“Forgive you?!” Rainbow took her hoof back and stepped back. “Rares, I want you to be my maid of honor!”

“I understand—wait what?”

“You're always into that romantic and frilly stuff!” Rainbow said. “Death needs some help getting the place ready for the big kiss, so I figured I'd put you in charge.” She smirked, putting out a hoof. “So, whaddaya say, sister? Are you up for the task?”

Rarity started at the hoof for a few moments, then in taking it with her own, began to tear up. “Of course, my dear Rainbow Dash, it would be my delight.” They embrace a moment later, holding it close, two hearts that once loved one, the other giving her scared permissions. When the hug ended, Rarity didn't hesitate to flog down Death.

“So thaaaat's what happens to them?”

THAT DESCRIBES THE PROCESS IN SIMPLE TERMS, said Death, rubbing the side of his bald head. FORGIVE ME IF MY SPEECH IS PECULIAR. YOU SEEM ABOVE THE REST OF YOUR KIND, AND I MAY HAVE INSULTED YOU IN PRESENTING WHAT IS ALREADY UNDERSTOOD.

“Oh no no no!” Celestia scooted closer to Death, letting her coat press against his robe. “It takes master to take the complex and translate it simplicity—it is quite refreshing in contrast the scholars who's talk is so dry.” She smiled up at him. “We should get drinks sometime and discuss the laws of psychics!”

THAT WOULD BE—

“Death, sir, if that's what I am to call you?” Rarity watched as the figured turned around, his grin creepy despite having no malice. “I-I was asked to talk to you about party decorations?”

Behind Death, Celestia groaned.

AH YES. He bowed down to make himself less scary, but it sent shivers down Rarity's spine. NOW THEN, I DON'T LIKE MOVING THINGS AROUND DOWN HERE, BUT THIS SHALL BE THE ONLY OCCASION. NOW, IF YOU WERE KINDLY POINT AND TELL ME THE PURPOSE OF THE THING I AM TO IMITATE...

The flying train came to land of the far right side, opening its side door,

“My artist pal, thou art still alive!” Art pranced out of the train, hugging the dragon along the torso. “My fear was that the world would go on craving your creativity after I heard of what you got trapped in the Rainbow Factory.”

“I made it out pretty okay,” Spike smiled down at the pegasus, giving him a quick hug. “I thought you had some phobia about going outside?”

“We're not actually outside.”
“We're not?”

“It's perfect! Everything I've ever needed all in on little train.” He broke the hug to point a hoof at the train, which chimed happily in response. “It take me from inside the mesum to inside of the train, where I can safely explore the world, as well as dropping me inside places like here!” He stepped back. “I may now have beaten my phioable, but at least I found one hell of a loop.”

“Guess you did,' Spike said, patting him on the back. “Thanks for coming.”

He looked to the train, someone else was coming out.

“Hey, you're still alive!” Flare walked with carrying a table.

“Hey, flare!” Spike said, tilting his head slightly. He went to help, but the earth pony shook his head. “You're carrying a table! Why are you carrying a table?”

“It's not any table: it's a table filled with booze.” He grinned as he shook it, clinking sounds coming the its bottom shelf. “A train whistled at my window for twenty minutes straight, the same amount of time it takes for me to realize I'm not hallucinating and that there is actually a hovering train outside my window.” He laughed. “Everything was peachy after that tho, got offered this gig and to be flown anywhere by yours truly.”

“Choo-choo!”

“Anyway, I'm glad that you're doing better, and congrats on the marriage!” Flare pressed his shoulder into the dragon's front, then beginning to walk away. “I'm gonna go and get this set up. Feel free to visit me afterward for a special shot to commence your vows.”

Spike gave him a nod, then felt something brush against his side.

“The carpet will be leading up to your desk, your desk will be a platform of a foot wide, with the following decorations!” Rarity looked up to the drake upon bumping into him. “Ah, Spikey! So I see you were somehow involved in this?”

“Well,” Spike blinked, looking down at her. “Yeah, actually.”

“That makes me glad to hear,” she said, strolling into the train, which let out an extra trail of smoke, “because despite this thing's bad memories,” the train stopped letting out smoke, “there should be two gems hidden back here. Ah! Here they are!”

Rarity popped her head out the door, looking afar. “Twilight! Yes, Twilight. Could you come over here for a moment?”

Twilight appeared. “Hey Rarity, and Spike, what can I do for you!?”

“First, I need you three to come inside.” And so they did, walking only a bit into the train, before two outfits stood in the walkway. “Now then, these are the outfits I'd made for the gala for our lovebirds, but I'm afraid out little Spikey-Wikey has grown quite a bit since his last measuring.” She pouted. “I don't suppose you could resize his tux to fit his new height?”

Twilight looked from Rarity to Spike, then smiled. “Of course I can, it's Spike's and Rainbow's wedding day after all!”

“Perfect, simply perfect!” Rarity levitated the dress off the stand, walking towards the door. “I shall get the bride in her dress, and with any luck, we can commence their love and get away from his creepy place.” The door slid closed behind her.

Spike tried to smile as Twilight levitated the tux up to his body, with him going rag doll as many fitting session reminded him to do. “Feels like it's been a while since I last saw you, crazy how much can happen in a day, huh?”

“Huh-huh, super crazy.” She laid the sleaze against his wrist and stretched out to his cuffs with magic. “Other arm, please.”

“Y-Yeah.” He did as he was told, and felt the other sleeve begin to grow. “Say, is there something wrong? You're kinda giving out a weird vibe.”

“Oh no, everything is perfectly fine, Spike!” She raised the pants to his legs. “It's just that my number one-assistant almost got killed four times today, proposed while on a whim, and made a deal with Death without telling anyone what it is!” The pants began to shake in the air. “And the worst, the worst of all is that he didn't come to me at all for any advice, for any help!”

“Twilight I—“

“Don't Twilight me!” She brought her hooves to her eyes, suddenly aware she'd begun crying. “I know what you're going to say, and it isn't going to work! Nothing is going to work, nothing is going to be the same after this.”

Spike crouched down, wrapping his claws around Twilight's head. He fought him at first, but within a few moments, she was sobbing against his shoulder, and all the while, he brushed her mane with his claw.

“Twilight, I should have gone to you from the beginning,” he said, voice just above a whisper. “My insecurity, my bouts with greed—there was a time I could go to you for anything, and I felt like the same was true the other way around.” He held her tight for his own strength. “I don't know what happened to us, what happened to me, that I became so afraid to open to you.”

Twilight's sobbing died down.

“And after everything that's happened, I can say for certain this one thing,” he pulled her head back just enough so they could look into one another eyes, “had I told you from this beginning, none of this would have happened and I'd learned everything in one lecture.”

Twilight laughed, and because of that, Spike laughed.

The two best friends laughed. This would be the last time they'd laugh together.

Then the laughter stopped with Twilight. “W-What about the other girls, about Celestia and Rainbow?”

“Let them enjoy this for now,” Spike said, dipping his head. “Twilight, you are my best friend in those whole world, the greatest who I've known the longest, and I've never had a friend quite like you, at least one that isn't male, so I was wondering...”

“You aren't...”

“Would you be my best stalli—“

“Mare,” she said, hugging him once again. “And yes, I'll be your best mare.”

So many memories. So many night spent together, adventures and new spells, friends to be made and villeins to be converted. It hadn't hurt Spike so much to give up his life, but giving up a life with Twi and Rainbow served to wedge a thorn deep in his heart.

“Come on now,” Twilight said, stepping back on her own hooves. “Let's get you suited for your tux, okay?”





When Spike stepped outside the train wearing the tux, he felt like a changed dragon, so fancy and regal, like his whole life amounted to this moment—which it kinda had. Down the room—which resembled the interior of a church with white walls and a red carpet—he spotted Rainbow across the room in her dress, making her jaw go slack as he'd never seen her more beautiful before.

“Um, excuse me!” Rarity stepped in the way, blocking the sight. “Seeing the bride in her dress is just asking for an omen to happen!”

“Right!” Spike blocked his view with a claw, turning to where deed would be done, and spotting Death already there.

'An omen, eh?' Desire said with a weak chuckle. “Bit late for that, Rares, but then again, we're doing all this for the sake of others anyway.'

“Are you mad about my choice?” Spike asked.

'Depends,' said Desire. 'Did you do it because it was the right thing to do, or because you wanted to?'

“Because I wanted to.”

'Then everything check out in here, coach,' Desire gave one last roar of laughter. 'I'll see you on the flip side, Spike!'

The dragon smiled. “You as well.”

A few moments later, Spike approached Death.

WHITE. WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE WHITE WITH MORTAL, said Death, sighing. SHOULDN'T SHE KNOW, LIKE ALL MORTALS DO, THAT IN MY PRESENCE, EVERYTHING SHOULD BE BLACK. NOT BLEAK, JUST BLACK.

“Uh, Death?”

Death turned around. Spike wasn't sure if he was more glad to see him or not—his grin never tended to fluctuate. AH, OUR SOON TO BE DECEASED AND OR HUSBAND. TELL ME, ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR VOWS? DO NOT WORRY ABOUT BEEN, THEY WILL NOT AFFECT YOU FOR LONG.

“About that,” Spike said. “You've been doing this grim reaper stuff for kind of a long time now, and, well, I was just wondering if you'd be up for trying something new.”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY NEW?

“How would you like to be our priest and join our marriage?”

YOU WOULD HAVE ME, THE CLAIMER OF LIFE, GRANT YOU MARRIAGE?

“Yeah!” Spike said, smiling. “I think it would be a lot of fun, and everyone else is okay with it, so what do ya say?”

I...I WILL DO IT, Death said, pulling his robe over his head.
Spike blinked at the sight, never having seen a seven foot, naked skeleton before. “Should I draw the get up or?”

PLEASE DO.

Spike went to grab a sheet of paper when Death grabbed one of the report sheets, turning it around with the blank side facing up. Spike smiled and Death grinned, and then he drew a priest and what he recalled to be the vow's, not too stressed if he'd gotten any part wrong.

With a snap of the finger, Death had become a Priest.

HUH. SO I STILL RETAIN THIS, THEN.

Spiked laughed. “Guess you still use the voice of the divine to speak then, so not much lost.”

EXECPT MY ROBE.

“C'mon, priest clothes look good on you!”

THEY...DO?

“Yeah!” Spike said, looking over to his friends. “We should probably get this show on the road, though.”

THIS IS TRUE.

Spike smiled and went to leave.

WAIT, SPIKE.

He turned around.

THANK...YOU.

Spike only gave a thumbs up.





SPIKE, DO YOU TAKE RAINBOW DASH TO BE YOUR WIFE?

He smiled. “I do.”

RAINBOW DASH, the Priest said, looking left, DO YOU TAKE SPIKE TO BE YOUR HUSBAND?

She smiled. “I do.”

I THEN PRONOUNCE YOU HUSBAND AND WIFE. He closed an imaginary book. YOU MAY NOW KISS.

“Come on now, Spike.” Rainbow giggled, leaning forward. “We've waited so long for this.”

“I know,” Spike said, leaning forward as well, and taking her plush lips against his own. The kiss earned cheers from the crowd and sniffles from a select few, all happy at what was to be witnessed,

A moment later, the kiss was broken.

“That. Was. Awesome!” Rainbow exclaimed, laughing as her dragon swept her by the hooves and cradled her in his arms. “Our relationship is back on and better than ever! Can you think of all the cool things we can do together!?”

Spike winced as he felt himself becoming weakling by the moment, looking down at the mare in his arms. Everything about her, from her muzzle to her flanks was perfect, and it was all his for this short moment.

“The running records we can beat, the pubs we can smash!” Rainbow kissed him on the cheek, not yet noticing the difference. “I'm even a Wonderbolt as soon as we leave this place, think of all the gigs I'll get and the places to check out. You can cheer me on from the stands.”

“I'll be cheering you on, alright.”

“Yeah, only—“ Rainbow noticed how she could see through Spike, finding Twilight and Celestia equally as mortified on the other side. “Wait a sec, just what in the hay is going on?!”

Spike only smiled.

“No, you didn't you didn't!” She beat her hooves against his chest, finding them almost phasing through. “You said you made a deal that involved a few favors, not switching your life out for your own!”

The girls began to sop as the lovers reached the end of the carpet.

“Why? Why?!”

Rainbow cried even as Spike put her down, whose existence flickered slowly away.

“Why me over you!” Rainbow said.

“That's an easy one,” Spike said, kissing her on the lips for one long, last time. After a moment, he pulled back, smiling softly. “It's because I love you.”

He then stood tall, turned around,and gave a thumbs up to everyone else present.

“You've all been amazing,” Spike said, his words, his very body, but a distant whisper. “I can't thank you enough for entering my life. Farewell.”

Everyone cried as the last trace of the drake flickered away.

Even the Priest bowed his head.

And sooner or later, everyone had to return home, some against their wills.





A few days had passed, and like with most suffering, life goes on. It's seems changed and cold, each coming day more dreadful than the last as your leaving that warmth further in the pass, its age no longer a delight but a cold reminder of the cold harsh truth in reality.

Everybody dies.

Ponyville returned to normal, though some ponies wished for another stand up.

Cloudsdale, while short a few workers, missed the fire show at the rock shows a bit more.

Canterlot returned to peace with the griffon peace announcing his sudden retreat, who went so far as to wash his own blood off an hot air balloon and returning it to Twilight Sparkle.

As for Death, he continued on with his duty, although as of late, the tea party made mortal scream at him less. He considered the project a success.

Now, how about the recent widow? Things weren't going nearly as well.





Rainbow stood atop a stool in her bathroom, rope hanging above her head, with the door locked and Tank well-fed on food. She wasn't sure how or why it come to this, only that it would be quick, and it would be the only chance at seeing her love again.

YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T WHAT HE WANTED.

Rainbow turned around to the figure lying in her bathtub, robe covering every inch of his body and obstructing his face. “Well just like then, he shouldn't have made a decision for me!”

HE DID IT OUT OF LOVE. THOUSANDS OF YEARS SPEND ALONE WITHOUT YOU WOULD HAVE DRIVEN HIM MADE.

“Well it's only taking me a few days.”


WHAT DO YOU THINK HE WOULD SAY IF HE SAW YOU NOW?

“Probably not do it it.”

HE WOULD SAY THAT, AS HE WOULD ANOTHER.

“Oh, yeah, and what would that be?”

HE WOULD SAY, the figure said, pulling back the robe. “That he loves you, and hopes he didn't keep ya waiting so long.”

“N-No way...” Rainbow rubbed her eyes, the imagine of a robed Spike laying in her bathtub not fading no matter how many times she rubbed. “It can't be it is.”

Spike pulled on the hood. IT IS NOT. He pulled the hood off. “It is!”

“Spike!” Rainbow yelled, hurling herself at him in the bathtub, feeling her body collide against his. She pressed her ear against his heart, hearing its steady beats. “You're...you're still alive, but how!?

“Got sent to the high gods,” Spike said, thinking back. “They said that it'd be a waste of have me killed as it detracts from the whole theme and all that.” He brought his lips to her ear. “But in reality, they just wanted make me Death's apprentice so I could mess with him—something about divine justice.”

“So, does this mean—“

“That I have a full time job, yes!”

“No, you dumbo!” She peppered his faces in kisses, stopping only for an instant. “That you get to live, that we can keep being married.”

“Of course, Rainbow.” Spike brought his claw to the back of her head and brought her in for a deep kiss, a taste he thought he'd never taste again. They split moments later. “I'm here to stay here, your always, for all the morning jogs and the late night movie riffs.”

“You don't know how happy I feel right now!” Rainbow said, then a thought struck, one that made her turn the tap to hot water with her tail. “And a little something else as well.”

“W-What's that, Rainbow?”

“I know someone who's getting lucky tonight.” Rainbow lifted his arms with her wings, feeling hot water pour on them both as she let his claws rest on her flanks. “We've already come this far, hot stuff, so how about you give back there a little squeeze and I get this robe off you.”

Spike felt something between his legs, something that poked through the robe and at Dash, who moaned in response.

The dragon had never been more happier in his life.



“I finally managed to get it up!”


Thus concludes the tale.


Thank you for reading.