Chapter 2: An Inconvenient Truth

“Well, what… what do you mean, Twi?” Spike said, bending over to pick up the duster. Confusion sat around his features, and his eyes showed a shadow of doubt.

Twilight took another deep breath.

“Well, Spike,” she said, exhaling softly, “what I mean is… the pony who I feel like I’m falling in love with, the one who I can’t stop thinking about, well… she’s a mare.”

Silence hung around the room.

“She’s a mare, Spike,” Twilight repeated.

Equus was spinning through the universe, slowly rotating around on Celestia’s magic as she moved the solar system around her sun. Photosynthesis was occurring. The water cycle was continuing. All of the great mechanizations of life were going on and on, uninterrupted.

In that moment, you could not have convinced Twilight of such.

As Twilight sat there, staring down at the little drake, her admission hanging around the room, it was as though the world had stopped. As far as she knew, it was as though every creature that was either predator or prey had simply stood still, as though all geological processes and all growth in the world had simply taken a break from the great circle of life and were waiting for the boy’s reaction.

It has to start with him. It has to start with Spike, it has to start with the creature who knows me best. If… if Spike isn’t for me, then I don’t know what I’ll…

“Oh,” Spike said, interrupting her paranoia. He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

Spike began to juggle the duster back and forth between his clawed hands again, carefully catching it each time, tossing it from left to right, from right to left.

He got to repeat the cycle about three times before he was scooped off the floor, spun about, and pulled deep into a massive hug.

“Spike!” Twilight squealed, joy bubbling through her. “Do you mean it? It doesn’t seem weird or, well… wrong for me to have feelings for a mare? Are… is it really okay to you?”

“Well, I’m a little surprised is all,” he said, wrapping his arms around her forelegs, trying to lift his head to look at her. “I mean, you’ve only ever had two crushes, and they were both on colts. So, yeah, I was surprised.”

“Well, one was when I was little,” she said, giving a self-conscious giggle. “Childhood crushes can hardly count as anything genuine or…”

“I think they can,” he said with a grumble.

Careful, Twilight thought, rebuking herself. You already overstepped once. Not yet. Not yet…

The whelp spun around in her forelegs to face her.

“Twi, all I really care about is if you’re happy, ya know?” he said, laying his head on her shoulder. “If feeling this way makes you happy, and if this pony can make you happy, that’s all I care about. You know that, Twi, I just wanna see you happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

A squeal went through the library, an indelicate noise most often associated with little fillies. It was a cry of delight associated with celebrations or parties. It was certainly not associated with alicorn princesses… no more so than rolling around on a library floor, hugging and nuzzling a baby dragon.

Yet, even the most astute observer would note the fact that this was exactly what was transpiring upon the recently punctured floors of Golden Oaks Library.

“Thank you, Spike… again,” she said. “Thank you so much. I was… I was worried that you might not… that the girls might not…”

“Jeez, Twi,” he said, rubbing the spot between her eyes. “Don’t think that way. Wow, just… just don’t think that way. Everypony who loves you just wants you to be happy, not just me. Just, you know, be happy.”

She sat upright, lowering the dragon into the spot between her forelegs, his body pressed into her chest and barrel. For the first time that morning, a sense of relief fell across Twilight Sparkle.

This was going so well.

This was going so much better than she had dared to hope. She had pictured crying and wailing and screaming… and all she had gotten so far was an affirmation that she was loved and big hugs and nuzzles from one of the most important creatures in her life.

This was going so well.

Twilight closed her eyes, and when she did the image of the pony that had set this in motion once more hovered there.

Rarity sat in the living room, working on one of her projects. As the memory of Spike and Sweetie Belle replayed nearby, Twilight felt herself swimming through the memory. She remembered sitting down next to Rarity. She remembered the feel of her coat against hers, the momentary nuzzle, the one that had been far too brief and far to platonic for her growing wants and heart’s desire.

Suddenly, that image seemed as close as it had been since the moment that it had happened. Now, now that she had Spike on her side, now she could move that much closer to accepting these new feelings.

This was going so well. Now, the last little barrier had to be crossed…

…the one that had caused her to hurt him. The one that had caused her to hurt the child she had been entrusted with. To hurt he child who loved her.

It was time to cross that barrier, to lay it all before him.

It was time to hurt him again.

This was going so well.

“Spike,” she said as she lifted away from him, unintentionally sending him teetering to the floor. “We haven’t finished the game!”

“Oh. Oh!” he said, shaking his head. “Do ya still want me to guess who it is? Well, who the mare is, I guess?”

“Y-yes,” she answered, a hesitation entering her voice that she hadn’t anticipated.

Spike looked up to the ceiling. He crossed his arms, and one finger came up to tap against his chin. He stood there for a moment, a contemplative hum going through him.

“Heh,” he said, putting his hands behind his back. “This feels a little weird. I’ve, whoa, I’ve never had to think about what mares you might like, but… Cheerilee?”

Twilight tilted her head.

“Cheerilee is smart like you. She likes books and learning and stuff like that... so, is it Cheerilee?” he asked.

“Hmmm, good guess,” Twilight said. “But, no. Sorry! Try again!”

“Is it the mayor? What’s her real name… uhh, oh yeah, Ivory Script?” he asked, jumping a little as he recounted the name. “She’s super-responsible, like you, and everypony is always counting on her, like you. Is it the mayor, Twi?”

“No,” Twilight answered. “Try again.”

Spike shrunk down. “Don’t say it’s Roseluck. I don’t think I could stand any more gardening.”

“Heh, no, Spike, it’s–”

“So much gardening!” he said as a visible shiver ran across him.

“–not Roseluck. Let me give you a hint. Think about what I said earlier. The mare is somepony I know, one of my friends… one of our friends…”

A momentary shock went through the dragon, and Twilight recognized it. A possibility of something went through his mind, but the dragon shook it off.

No, Spike, she thought, don’t fight it. We have to deal with this…

“Twi?” he asked, gulping slightly. “Are you saying that it’s one of the girls? One of the other Elements of Harmony?”

“Y-yes, Spike, I am,” she said, the hesitancy sinking through her once more.

Spike blinked, and then words began to fall out of him. “It’s Applejack, right? I mean… you two have always relied on each other so much. S-she’s like… strong in ways that you aren’t and stuff, and you’ve always been there for–”

“No,” Twilight said, trying to keep her tone even. “Applejack is a dear friend, and I love her as such, but the mare I’m thinking of, I’ve relied on her too, and she on me. On us…”

Spike blanched, a noticeable shudder going through him. One of the barriers between him and a realization fell away, bringing him that much closer to the truth.

“It’s Dash! It’s Dash, right? She’s so cool and awesome and… and she’s always brought out the best in you! You’ll be great together, Twi!” he sang, almost as though he were attempting to convince Twilight of the fact.

“Dash has always wanted me to do my best,” Twilight answered, doing her best to keep her voice even. “You’re right, she brings out the best in me, and I love her as a friend for that. But, Spike, the mare I’m thinking of has also cheered for me, believed in me…”

Twilight watched as some of the color fell out of the dragon.

“P-pinkie!” he said, the name racing from his lips. He wavered on his feet, looking like a sailor trying to keep his footing on a storm-tossed deck. “I-I hope that it’s Pinkie! Yeah, Pinkie! You two… you two have lots of fun together! She really helped you come out of your shell, and she really taught you how to enjoy yourself! I’m happy for you, Twi! I’m happy that it’s Pinkie… because, ‘cause that means that I get to have a lot more cookies and cupcakes and stuff, right? Right? It’s Pinkie…”

“Spike,” she said in a chiding tone. “Cookies? That’s being a little im-”

She stopped herself short of saying the word. She looked at the dragon. He was starting to breathe heavier, and he was wringing his hands together. He was looking at her like she was about to tell him that Owloysius had died.

“–pulsive,” she said, salvaging the phoneme. “Pinkie is wonderful, and I owe her so much. I love her as a friend, Spike. I owe her so much for helping me learn to enjoy life, but she’s not the mare I–”

“You and Fluttershy will be great together!” he cried, his voice rising. “You both are… cute? You like animals… I guess. You both enjoy... cowering, maybe? I…”

He looked at her, utterly unconvinced. She knew her face was wearing the same dubious expression. She watched as something seemed to drain out of her dragon. His mouth came open, moving up and down of its own accord. He began to shake a little, just at the knees and elbows.

I have to say this, Spike, she thought, watching his eyes as they flew through hers, begging for her to deny the looming truth.

She could not.

“I promise! I’ll try to get along with Angel!” Spike cried

Spike dove to the floor, causing Twilight to backpedal as step. The dragon lunged forward, grasping at her, running his hands through the soft hairs of her coat, wiping them against her chest.

“I’ll do everything I can! I’ll clean her house, too! I’ll learn how to take care of her animals! It’s Fluttershy! It’s Fluttershy! Say that it’s Fluttershy!”

“Spike,” she whispered, watching with no small amount of shock as he lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. He was bargaining. He was literally bargaining with her, asking her to avoid voicing the looming confession.

“Spike, listen to me…”

“Please say it’s Fluttershy…”

“Spike,” she said, lifting his chin with her hoof. “Spike, the mare who I have these feelings for is very kind… very generous…”

Spike drew a deep breath. His eyes went wide.

“S-she is somepony who I’ve come to know very well, somepony who I’ve only felt closer to over the last month,” Twilight said. “Somepony who I’ve come to realize made me feel this way during the time that she and her sister spent here, with us.”

His arms began to retract slowly, like a plant shriveling in the sun. He withdrew a step, the last of his defenses tumbling around him. His breaths became visible, each one lifting his chest.

Twilight leaned forward, making it so that he looked back up into her eyes. She watched as emotions flew around in his face, as his breaths moved from gulps to shallow draws of air that drove heat across her face.

“Spike,” she said, trying to force her voice to become sweet and unthreatening, trying to make it easier for him. “Spike,” she repeated, his name drifting out of her. “It’s Rarity. I’m in love with Rarity.”

The library slipped into a heavy silence, one that wrapped around them as they sat there on the thick, braided rug before the fireplace. For a long moment, nothing happened. Spike just stood there, his arms wrapped around himself, the boy making shallow, rapid breaths.

They stared into one another’s eyes, and she felt Spike searching through hers, looking for anything to latch onto. She wondered what he was looking for. Did he think it was a joke? Did he think she was lying? What could he…

Spike stepped back, startling her with the quick, darting motion. His head spun around, taking in the sweep of the library.

“I put them back! I promise I did!” he said, looking back to her with panic in his eyes.

Twilight blinked.

“Spike, what do you mean?” she asked, shaking her head in confusion.

The whelp spun around, his extended finger sweeping across the tall racks of books. His finger made an inventory, the boy looking across each shelf.

“They’re all where they belong, Twilight! They are! I re-shelved all of the books! I put them back right where they are supposed to be! I sorted them all!” he said in a high whine. In a moment he jumped into the air, and with his arms outstretched before him, he went bolting into the kitchen. He nearly tripped over the bucket of soapy water. It sloshed around as he regained his footing and went speeding through the door.

“Spike,” Twilight called, a sudden wave of trepidation falling over her. Her ears went up as she spun around to face the kitchen. Each of the boy’s little sounds of worry and fear echoed off of every pot and pan.

He appeared in the doorway, his eyes once more going to hers. Twilight saw the confusion that was washing through him. As his hands wrapped around the doorframe, his claws marring the intricately carved surface, his voice leapt to her in a rush of worry and fear.

“The dishes are done! They’re done! I cleaned up breakfast! I cleaned it all up and put the garbage out, just like you said to! I did! You can check! Please, Twi, check it! I swear they’re done, I swear!”

“Spike, what… what’s going on?” she asked, rising up to her hooves. Her own voice was beginning to shake. Before she could approach him, the little dragon had sped across the living room, very narrowly avoiding the soap-filled bucket. To her surprise he dived into the wastepaper basket at the far side of the room.

“Spike!” she called. “Tell me what’s going–”

The dragon’s feet had been waving through the air, but as he fell out of the can he found his footing once more. He held up a piece of paper, his eyes racing to hers once more.

“I did everything on the list, Twilight! Look! Look, everything except the dusting! I was just about to do the dusting when you came out of the guest room! I’ll do it! Please, don’t be mad! I’ll do it, I promise! Please… I’m sorry!”

Twilight’s guts suddenly felt like they were filled with lead, and her hooves felt like they weighed thousands of pounds. Her head swung as he sped across the room once more, leaping across the hole in the floorboards before pulling at the contents of the laundry hamper.

Spike made little whimpers as he reached for his apron, the gift that Rarity had made for him, and he struggled to put it on as Twilight watched. Her heart sank as he got caught in the straps, trying to pull it over his shoulders and tie it as he tried to force the rubber gloves back onto his hands.

“I’m sorry!” he cried as tears began to pool at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Twi! I’ll finish it right now! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Oh, Celestia… oh, Luna. He thinks I’m punishing him for something, she realized. Her ears fell down, and a haze of mist began to obscure her vision. He thinks that I’m disciplining him for not doing a chore, that I’m chastising him for not completing one of his jobs…

“N-no, Spike, no,” she said, trotting forward quickly. She pulled the dragon close to her once more.

“Please, Twi, please!” he cried, burying himself in her forelegs. “J-just tell me what I did wrong! Just tell me what I missed! I’ll do it! I’ll fix it! Just, please, please don’t say that again! Please!”

“Shhhh…” she whispered. “Spike, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not mad. You haven’t done anything wrong or bad. You’ve done all of your chores, like you always do. I’m not mad.”

She felt Spike give a little shake.

“Then… then why would you say something like that? I…”

The dragon choked a little, coughing a bit. His words hovered against her coat, in her forelegs, before he spilled them across her.

“I’ve only ever told two ponies, Twi. I’ve only ever told two ponies how I feel about Rarity… I-I trust you Twi. Why would you say something like that? Why?”

He shook again. The weight of his words sat around her heavily, but there was no turning back now. Now she had to make him admit to the new reality.

“Why would you hurt me like that? I trust you, Twi. Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Spike,” Twilight said. “It’s true.”

She felt something sink out of him. The boy became a weight in her forelegs… a pile of clay, a bag of rocks.

“Spike,” she said, trying to whisper the words to him. “While Rarity and Sweetie Belle were staying here, I felt myself growing closer and closer to her every day. I found myself wanting to be near her, to share time with her. Rarity is the mare that I’ve been thinking about all of this week. I can’t get her out of my head. She’s the one I have feelings for. I would never say this to punish you, Spike. Those words mean too much to just throw around…”

Twilight turned her eyes down to Spike. She blanched a little when she saw the look in his eyes.

Betrayal.

“Spike,” she said, placing certainty in her words. “I love Rarity. I love her.”

Spike stared back at her like she’d just murdered a puppy.

“No,” he said.

“Spike,” she said, trying to draw him closer.

“N-no… no! I-I trusted you!” he cried, startling her. “No! Nooo!”

“Spike, please,” she said, trying to wrap her forelegs around him, “your little crush, it’s…”

“Don’t talk to me! Don’t… don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, let me go!” he cried, his voice breaking into a hiss.

The flats of his hands rammed themselves into her chest, pushing him out of her embrace, sending him sprawling across the floor.

Twilight stood there for a moment, breathless. She did not know if it had been the force of his hands driving against her chest that had dropped the air out of her, or if it had been the realization of what had just happened.

She looked down to Spike, saw the child spin about on the rug and look back at her with a glower. She stood still, her empty forelegs still standing open.

They had experienced difficulties before, she and Spike. But no matter how many shouting matches they had been in, or how many days of not talking to one another, there had always been one truth between them. When one had opened themselves up for an embrace, the other had always answered that plea for a hug. They had always had the security of their closeness. They’d always had each other to shelter in and against.

Now, in the space of a few heartbeats, that was gone.

For the first time in the long story of their lives together, Spike had rejected the comfort of her hug. For the first time since she had stared down into his crib in the nursery all of those years ago, he had rejected her touch.

The two stared at one another, a sea of emotion separating them, each realizing the broken bond that Twilight’s empty forelegs revealed.

As Spike looked back at her, his scowl gave way to something more raw and more pained. Tears appeared on his face, and at once a little cry left the whelp. He began to skitter away, losing his footing as he tried to get back to his feet.

“Spike!” she cried, “Wait! Wait, Spike!”

Twilight’s magic flashed through the room, transporting him back, bringing him close enough that she could try to speak to him once more.

“No! No, leave me alone!” he wailed, running off again. “Leave! Me! Alone!”

“Spike, please!” she called after him, wrapping him in her magic. “We have to talk about this. Please, being being so im–”

She stopped herself, using her magic to not only teleport him back to her but also to keep that word from escaping her lips.

It went on like that again and again. The dragon tried to race away as he appeared in a flash of her magic only to be drawn back once more, again and again. Each time he cried to be left alone… cried that he had trusted her.

Each time Twilight died a little on the inside. Each time she felt more and more tears sliding down her own face. Each time she looked down as Spike appeared before her in an eruption of her magic, his face looking more and more miserable and betrayed each time until she lost the will to do it anymore.

“Leave me alone! Leave me alooone!” he shrieked as he finally fell out of her spell. He was breathing heavily, and he tripped again, going to the floor hard. He began crawling, and then forced himself up onto two legs. He bounded across the floor of the living room, knocking over her bucket full of soapy water, sending a splash of suds washing across the floor.

He skidded along on the slippery surface, and the bar of soap itself went flying across the floor like a scared jackrabbit. The boy slipped across the water again, and then dove into the hallway closet.

The door slammed behind him loudly, causing the cuckoo clock to come crashing from the nearby wall. The mechanism shattered, and the little carved bird came tumbling out, evicted from its longtime home.

Twilight walked over to the closet slowly, looking at the remains of her clock. She had only just brought it downstairs. Well, she’d made Spike bring it downstairs, in all honesty. Now, her decision had sent something she valued flying into pieces.

Twice in one day.

“Spike, please,” she whispered into the crack between the door and the frame. “Please, we need to talk about this.”

There was no reply.

Her body suddenly felt very heavy. Twilight slowly sank down to her knees, and then she simply lay on the cold floor, lying there amid the remains of her cuckoo clock and her most cherished relationship.

Sounds began to rise from behind the closet door. Great, vast sobs began to filter out into the hallway, only barely muffled by the winter coats, boots, umbrellas, and old magazines within.

Tears ran down her face as lay there, just before the door, surrounded by the soapy water.

As his bawls fell out from behind the closet door, she wondered how it had gone from happy hugs and affirmations to this, to him shoving her and crawling away, desperately trying to escape her presence like she was…

…like she was hurting him.

Twilight’s eyes swam with tears. For the second time in as many weeks, she had hurt her little dragon. She had hoped so very hard that this would go well, and each of the little hugs and nuzzles that had come before now seemed squandered.

Her forelegs felt empty, and there was a pain in her chest that his palms had not caused.

For the second time since the unicorn had come to their home, Twilight had hurt the baby dragon that loved her. She had hurt him…

…because of Rarity.

Twilight let her face sink down across the floorboards, and her ears filled the muffled sobbing from beyond the door.

It had been going so well…

…and it wasn’t over yet.

Even with him wailing in the closet, it wasn’t over. She still needed him to know about the first time she had hurt him. She still needed to let him know the truth.

It had been going so well…