Twilight looked down at the floor. Rarity was sprawled across a heap of volumes of The Equine Librarian's Almanac, her hoof held over her face and her eyes shut tight. She looked back up, her eyes tracing hesitantly across the empty air until they met a patch of air that was decidedly not empty.

She resisted the urge to hold in a whimper. She usually wasn't sure about royal protocols outside of those referenced in the little pamphlet that Celestia had given her, but she was fairly sure that whimpering was fairly high up on the list of Things Royal Alicorn Princess Aren't Supposed To Do.

So, instead of giving into her animalistic instinct to run away and cower from the hulking shape before her, she squared her hooves, held her chin high into the air...and blinked.

"Spike?" she asked, disbelievingly.

The giant dragon—as evidenced by its spines and scaly tail—tilted its head to the side. "Hi Twilight," a deep voice rumbled. It took her a moment to realize that it was the dragon speaking, its purple-and-green mouth moving in a disturbingly familiar fashion. "I, uh, feel kinda weird. And do you know why Rarity fainted?"

"Spike." She said his name again, turning it over in her mouth and trying to associate the image of the lanky, teenaged wyrmling with the hulking best standing before her. Even as she watched him, his chest flared outward, pectoral muscles the size of her head inflating with a single inhaled breath. When next she spoke, she couldn't help the deadpan tone that slipped into her voice. "You feel weird?"

"Well, yeah." Spike—judging by the coloration, if nothing else, she felt assured that this was, at the very least her Spike—nodded, shrugging. She winced as one of his broad shoulders scraped against the side of the wall, gouging out a worryingly large hole. Spike himself seemed not to notice the crash of wood against the floor. The spines on his head, brushing against the ceiling, said something more about his sheer size. "Pretty weird, actually. Not just kinda."

"And I wonder why," Twilight said under her breath. She looked up at him, her neck straining as she tried to fit him into the edges of her vision. "I think I know why you feel weird—you're huge!"

He straightened up in reflex, his eyes widening—and as a result, smashed his head straight into and through the ceiling. "Ouch!"

Twilight's jaw dropped. "Spike! I just paid the last property damage bill last week!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" She could feel the sound of his deep voice as it rippled across her coat. Spike held a clawed hand to his forehead—a notoriously long-clawed hand, she thought, noting the fact that just one of his claws was now as long and wide as her neck. "What do you mean, huge?"

"Spike." Twilight spoke slowly, looking up at him with one of the most bewildered expressions she'd ever managed to summon. "You just smashed your head through the ceiling."

"Yeah. So?"

She groaned. "Let that sink in."

Spike looked at her, then at the ground, and then at the ceiling. Then back at his toes. Then...

"Holy crap—I'm huge!"

"We do not use that language in this household!" Twilight barked. "Spike!"

A wide, toothy grin was spreading across Spike's face as his eyes roamed hungrily over his new body. "I—whoa. This is incredible!"

"You are rather enormous," she admitted. "But Spike! I do not want to hear that word from you again, mister. Do you understand?"

Spike nodded vacantly, though he was too busy admiring his enlarged physique to really care. He was huge. He was enormous. He was friggin' gigantic was what he was! He stood up a little straighter, letting out a slow sigh of wonder as his spines scraped against the hole that now sat in the middle of the ceiling. He glanced down at his stomach, feeling a strange feeling of...power there—a feeling of solidness. He clenched his abs tight, his smile broadening as he noticed the two rows of muscles flex and grow there. He lifted a claw, hesitantly, and stroked it across his chest. His pectoral muscles were huge, pushing out from his chest and almost blocking the view to his legs. His six pack felt like a line of rocks—no: a line of diamonds.

He flexed an arm; for an instant, he was a hatchling again, holding up his 'ceps for the mirror to admire. But this time, the muscles were real. He felt momentarily disappointed that there wasn't a mirror to show him the full glory of his physique, but was quickly won over by the ways that his muscles seemed to ripple beneath his scales, his biceps and triceps together flexing into a corded sphere even bigger than his head. He flexed harder, his fangs flashing out of the side of his mouth as veins pressed against the inside of his skin, showing on the exterior of his arm.

"Whoa," he breathed, flexing on and off a few times to get the full effect. He held up the other arm and flexed that one too, just to be sure. He was pleasantly surprised, then, when the sheer bulk and volume of both limbs managed to fill up the entire walkspace in the corridor between the stairs and main room. It felt so amazingly tight, his powerful bulk pushing up against—and cracking—the weak, paper-thin plaster.

"Spike!" Twilight scolded. "You stop that, right now! I'm not going to make the Princess pay for even more repairs!"

It seemed, though, that Spike couldn't hear her. His eyes roamed down toward his hips, passing his muscled pelvis and admiring the ways in which his thick, corded thighs rubbed against each other with their sheer mass. His feet dug into the ground, with each one looking bigger and stronger than he'd been as a hatchling.

He felt something behind him and turned to get a better look. There, his tail waited behind him. Unlike before, it seemed to be four times the thickness, and five times the length. It was an enormous, strength-filled organ, and he watched with unbidden glee as it swayed eagerly in the air, far above the ground.

The simple act of turning, though, seemed to have set off something else. With a grunt, Spike felt a sudden itch between his shoulder blades...and then a push that spread out across his back, nerves coming alight as two somethings flared out behind him.

Wings. He had wings..

He looked them over as best he could, with moisture in the corners of his eyes. Wait a few more years, Twilight had told him. You'll get them; don't worry. He'd taken the news as best he could, watching Rainbow Dash soaring in the sky every morning and wishing that, just maybe, he could join her in the air, too. And here they were.

They felt alien—two extra limbs held out from his upper back. He tried, experimentally, to stretch one out further, and was pleasantly surprised when it flared out with a woosh of air, its thick membrane letting just the barest amount of light stream through its veined surface. Spikes tipped the edge of each one, and as he pulled them back in and pushed them out again—just to feel their presence once more—he was rewarded by the sudden crash of a bookshelf toppling to the ground on either side of him.

Spike finally registered the damage he'd caused, flushing. "Whoops."

He looked back toward Twilight. Her jaw was still open, though she seemed to be trying her best to close it again. Her eyes was twitching.

"Spike," she said slowly. Dangerously, even. This was the I'm angry at you, mister, but I'm not going to show it. tone. He flinched in anticipation. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, I swear!"

"You had to do something!" she barked. She held up a hoof, gesticulating wildly about his oversized form. "Something like...this doesn't just happen overnight! How?"

"I don't know!" Spike held up his encyclopedia-sized hands in protest, wincing as Twilight glared at him.

"Did you get into my experimental spells again?"

He shook his head. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Any of the chemicals? Those can be pretty unpredictable if you touch them the wrong way."

Another shake.

Twilight sighed. "Then...why? How?"

Spike swallowed. "Uh, I...dunno. I guess I just kind of...woke up this way?"

A groan was the only thing that answered his reply. "Great. Just great." She glanced about the room, eyes scanning over the various destruction sites scattered around the library. "We're looking at another...two hundred bits for repairs—at least—one of my best friends is passed out on the floor, and," she bit out, savoring the word, "My younger brother is suddenly a gigantic, overmuscled, towering dragon."

Spike gave her a hesitant grin. "Well...when you put it that way..."

"Out."

He blinked. "Huh?"

"Outside." Twilight jabbed a hoof toward the door. "We're going to the doctor to see if there's a problem here. Right now."

"But Twilight..." Spike's whining sounded just as pathetic, he noted, even when done with a much deeper voice. Twilight, at least, did not look impressed.

"I said, now." She frowned up at him. "I swear, if this is another greed growth thing..."

"But—"

The look in her eyes softened. "Look," Twilight said quietly, meeting his gaze. He had to shuffle a bit, more than somewhat uncomfortably, to look straight at her without bumping his head into the ceiling again. He settled for a half-sort of crouch, which brought him down closer toward the floor, albeit still two feet higher than Twilight's head.

"I'm worried about you, Spike," she murmured. "I don't want you to be sick, or hurt, or...or anything."

He blinked. Was that a tear in her eye?

"And..." Her voice was choked up, and she averted her gaze. "I don't want to lose my little brother again."

Images flashed through his head—of being a mountainous, single-minded brute, tearing through Ponyville in a storm of rage and blind greed. Scaring Twilight. Attacking Rarity. Spike shivered.

"I'll go," he rumbled. He bowed his head.

Twilight looked back up at him, a small smile on her face. A wing unfurled from her side and reached up to brush against his cheek. "Thank you, Spike," she whispered.

"So what do you think, Doctor Hoofdall? Is he okay?"

Twilight bit her lip, her eyes flickering over to the blue-maned doctor. Doctor Hoofdall was currently balancing on the top of a stepladder, peering into Spike's cavernous maw with the aid of a flashlight that Twilight had levitated beside her. Spike himself was crouched down as far as he could, doing his best not to cause too much damage. Sure, the door to the doctor's office had been a little bent outward when he'd tried to crawl through—okay, fine, a lot bent—and maybe he'd accidentally ripped one or two doorknobs off of their hinges in an overeager attempt to come inside. What mattered was that he hadn't crushed the operating table that sat safely off to the side of the room, and that he'd only flattened one of the chairs in the waiting room.

His stomach grumbled. Loudly. He might've attracted more than his fair share of stares, glares, and general surprise on the way here, but he'd be damned—darned, he corrected himself, eyes flickering back down to where Twilight sat—if he went any longer after this without getting food from somewhere.

"Can you tilt your head to the side a bit?" Hoofdall's voice echoed in his mouth, her head nearly fitting entirely in the space between his oversized jaws. He quickly obliged, doing his best to keep his much longer, sharper teeth from accidentally puncturing her skull. As she peered around a particularly large canine, he shifted on his feet, trying to stay comfortable when he couldn't even stand up for fear of putting his head through to the second floor. As it was, his bulk filled most of the small room, anyway; Twilight had suggested conducting the exam outside, but the doctor wouldn't have it.

"Hm..." Dotor Hoofdall stroked her chin and pulled her head back. Spike was more than happy to close his mouth again at her signal. "No sign of mouthrot, or any kind of draconic gingivitis."

Twilight leaned forward. Spike could've sworn that her eyes were sparkling beneath the sterile glow of the fluorescent lights above them. "Is there anything else? Did you find anything that could have caused his growth?"

Hoofdall to a second to consider that before shaking her head. "Nope. By all accounts, he's a perfectly healthy, hearty, maturing dragon."

Twilight sputtered. "But—but—but this!" she finally choked out, waving her hooves in Spike's general direction which, thanks to his bulk, wasn't very hard to do. "This isn't normal. This can't be normal!"

Hoofdall sighed. "Miss Sparkle, after the last episode, I took the opportunity to order some journals from Manehatten on draconic biology. I can assure that this is not a greed-growth problem."

Twilight bit her lip. "How can you be so sure?"

"Well, for one thing, he's been completely cooperative, anything but kleptomaniacal, and in fact, rather pleasant to talk to." The doctor peered over at Twilight past her cracked, circular glasses. "Miss Sparkle, there's no reason to suspect that this is anything more than your average teenage dragon growth spurt."

"Growth spurt? He grew two and a half feet in two hours!"

"And I've told you already," Doctor Hoofdall said, sounding more than a bit irritated. "There doesn't seem to be any problem with him."

One look into the doctor's eyes was apparently enough to persuade Twilight that any further argument would be pointless. "...Fine," she finally conceded. "Maybe there's nothing physically wrong with him."

"Physically, yes."

Twilight's eyes widened. "But mentally?"

Hoofdall whinnied, giving a low-pitched snort. "His ego's going to grow as large as his muscles, for one thing." She nodded over her shoulder. Twilight followed her gaze.

Sure enough, Spike had managed to find the mirror on the inside of one of the cabinet doors and was currently flexing into it, letting out soft "oohs" and "ahs" as his muscles bounced and swelled on his reflection's arms. He took in a deep breath and held it, his chest muscles bulging at least a foot away from his chest as he beheld them with glee.

"...Yeah, I can see what you mean." Twilight rolled her eyes. "Come on, then, Mr. Haycules. We're leaving."

Spike pouted, the expression managing to look moderately horrifying splayed across a hulking, mammoth-sized dragons' face. "Aww."

"Thank you, Doctor Hoofdall." Twilight gave the doctor a weak smile. "I'll be happy to get the bill back to you within the week."

"Take your time." The doctor waved a hoof dismissively. "Truth be told, I'm more than happy to get a chance to watch Spike mature; it's not often in Equestria that we get to see a dragon's maturation firsthoof. The last such incident was...less than helpful, but I do look forward to seeing how much he'll grow."

How much he'll grow.

Twilight felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a shiver rippling across her coat. For a single, terrifying moment, she envisioned a hulking titan of a giant: a monster of purple and green scales that stood so tall that one foot could cover the entirety of Ponyville, the Smoky Mountain barely coming up to its ankle. How much he'll grow? How much will he grow?

She forced those feelings back down. Spike's big, curious eyes looked down at her from his squatting position. What did it matter if his arms were as big around as her whole body, or that her head only came up to his belly button? It was still Spike, after all.

"It's still Spike," she murmured, a soft smile on her face.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Twilight flashed the doctor a grin. "Thanks again."

"Any time, Miss Sparkle."

A sudden rumbling echoed through the room. Twilight flinched on reflex, only opening her eyes once she was sure that an Ursa Minor had't invaded Ponyville again.

Instead of a rampaging ursine, though, all she saw was a sheepish-looking Spike, with one oversized hand resting on his muscled stomach. A soft red colored his cheeks, and she heard another rumble coming from his belly.

"Come on, mister." She chuckled, feeling much more lighthearted than she had before. "Let's get you some lunch."

In an empty room, Rarity's eyes shot open.

For a moment, she felt woozy. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Squinting, she waited until her sight cleared of spots. Finally, her vision resolved into something that she could actually see: she was staring right out of a window and into a collection of tree branches that stretched off into a bright blue sky.

She reached out an unsteady hoof, flopping it an a decidedly unladylike manner before coming into contact with a hard surface. She prodded it. Her hoof brushed against something soft. Something was lingering on the edge of her mind, she felt: something that she knew was important.

And then she remembered: Spike.

Rarity sat straight up, the blanket sliding down from her neck and onto the floor. She looked around, eyes wide; she seemed to have been placed on a couch and left to rest following her...episode.

The image flashed across her eyes again, and it took all of her will not to simply swoon, right then and there. That tall, massive figure. That bulging, perfectly-sculpted physique. Those toned, powerful scales.

Rarity sighed, fluttering her eyelashes at nopony in particular. She couldn't imagine how that wonderful, incredible dragon that she'd seen before could possibly be her little Spikey-Wikey, but unless there was another purple, green-spined dragon wandering around Twilight's library, he couldn't possibly be anyone else. And Celestia, what a dragon.

"What a dragon," she breathed. "Magnificent." She felt a heated blush rising to her cheeks, and hastily brushed her mane out of her eyes lest it frizz from her...enthusiasm.

Her hoof, still resting on the table, brushed against something: a piece of paper. Once Spike's glorious image had faded sufficiently from her mind, she levitated it with her magic and delicately unfolded it to see what was written inside.

She had indeed fainted, the letter confirmed, and Twilight had put her to rest on the couch in the library's upper loft. One quick look around at all of the books surrounding her more than affirmed that statement. Furthermore, Twilight and Spike had gone out to the doctor's to find just what was wrong with Spike. The note ended with a request for Rarity not to panic, and a reassurance that everything would be fine.

Rarity silently fumed. What was wrong? There was nothing wrong with Spike! How could there be anything wrong with such a beautiful, enormous, bulging...

She idly wiped her hoof on the side of her mouth, catching a thin line of drool before it could hit the ground.

She shook her head. Well, that simply wouldn't do. She had an obligation to find Twilight, assure her that this wonderful blessing of thick biceps and towering muscle was anything but a curse...

...and to perhaps see him again.

Breath fluttering in her chest, Rarity steeled her resolve. She had a mission, and by Celestia, she would carry it out.