Chapter 5: Losses and Gains

Twilight tumbled to the ground, landing on her back amid the ruins of her cuckoo clock.

She called out in pain, her head getting fuzzy as the door’s impact left flashes of light going through her eyes and a harsh sting across her lips. The soapy water that had sat on the floor over the last hour soaked her coat, leaving cold rivulets of water that ran down her sides as she spun back over onto her stomach.

“Ow!” she moaned.

Twilight looked back towards the closet door. It was still closed, amazingly. She realized that Spike had kicked it open so forcefully that it had flown open, hit her, bounced off the far wall, and, if the grumbling sounds coming from the far side were any indication, flown back and hit him in the face as well.

Twilight moaned again, and then shook her head back and forth, trying to get the relations of her homeless cuckoo bird to stop circling her head.

She just about had them stopped when the closet door flew open once more, crashing against the stairwell.

“No!” cried the grim figure that stood there. “No! No, you don’t… you, no!”

Spike’s eyes were clenched shut, and Twilight could very easily imagine that, had they been open, they would have been shining with the horrible emerald light that accompanied his deepest episodes of anger.

He waved the yellow winter boot through the air with his right arm, and at the same time he seemed to be favoring his left. It was folded against his chest, and he seemed to wince whenever it moved unexpectedly, or as the rubber boot flopped against his own body.

Oh, Celestia, Twilight thought, he must have hurt himself when he fell.

“No!” he screamed, storming out of the closet, his eyes clamped shut as though he couldn’t even stand to see her. “No! No, you… you don’t have the right to be jealous of me! No, not you!”

Twilight reeled backwards, his anger only seeming to get worse as he stomped past her, his eyes shut, the boot swinging through the air.

“No, Your Majesty,” he said, painting venom into the title, “you don’t get to be jealous of me! You don’t! Not you… not you who everypony has been cooing over since she was a filly! Not Celestia’s most favorite student! Not you, who skipped like three grades! Not you, the smarty who wowed all of her teachers!”

As he skidded across the wet floor he called out more of her achievements, scaring her and confusing her. Why? Why was he…

“Not you, Twilight Sparkle! You don’t get to be jealous of me! Not you, who gets to be a hero over and over! Not you, who gets to be a princess who everypony thinks is so great!”

“Spike!” Twilight shouted. “Please, be careful for–”

“No! No, I don’t want to hear it! You’ve gotten everything! You get to go on adventures! You get to go on picnics and birthdays with your friends! You’ve had such a great life and everypony loves you and–”

“Spike!” she called. “Watch out for the–”

Ignoring her, he ranted “–you have all of that, and you want the one thing that I have?! What’s wrong with you?! It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s… waaaggghhhh!”

Spike’s feet tangled in his apron, sliding him across the wet, soapy floor. The yellow boot came flying out of his grasp, going high into the air. The dragon gave one more cry and then, with an unceremonious pop, sank into the hole that Twilight’s jaw had left in the floor.

Twilight rose to her hooves. She was just about to ask him if he was all right when the winter boot came falling back down. It fell just perfectly enough to totally encapsulate him, leaving the boot spinning back and forth as his head went back and forth in surprise.

She raised her hoof to her mouth, stifling a giggle at the scene before her. The giggle faded away when she realized that there was something wet on her hoof, something that was warmer and more viscous than the sudsy waters that flowed around the floor of her home like so many displaced rivers.

She lifted her hoof from her lip, and was not surprised by what she found there. Blood. My lip is split, she realized, thinking back to how the door had struck her. Wonderful, just wonderful.

She was forced out of her contemplation as another roar filled the room, this one muffled, as though the one roaring had their head stuck in a yellow winter boot.

Twilight lifted her head just in time to see exactly that. Her eyes widened as she watched the boot expand like a balloon, and then a jet of green frame erupted from it, burning away the point and leaving a massive charred hole.

Great. Just… great. Now, on top of everything else, I need a new set of winter boots, too.

She looked at Spike. He was wrapped in his apron, immobilized it seemed, from the garment entangling his feet. His arms were bunched up at his sides, jammed tight between the broken boards and his body.

 The boot swiveled around, looking more like a periscope than a piece of hoofwear. In a moment, the boot had found her, and inside its darkened reaches a set of eyes looked back at her with surprise.

“Oh, Spike,” she said, concern floating in her tone.

The eyes in the boot narrowed on her, filled with contempt, and then turned away. “Humph!” Spike called, his exasperation echoing around inside the boot.

Twilight sighed and raised herself off the floor. She slowly made her way across the sopping wet boards, sliding slightly on the suds before lowering herself back down at Spike’s side.

“Spike,” she asked, forcing her voice to go quieter. “Can we talk?”

Spike blew a smoke ring, the cloud steaming out of the boot in an oily haze.The boot fell forward, making it so that the charred remains of the point sat on the floor. It was all that Spike could do in his awkward position to avoid looking at her.

“Fine, then,” she answered, wiping the smudge from his smoke off her face. “At least now you can listen.”

The boot did not reply.

“Spike,” she began, “I am not proud of what I did to you. It was wrong. I lied to you, and I am sorry. I know that it hurts. I know that finding out what I did hurts. There’s nothing that I can do other than say that I'm sorry over and over and over again.”

“Get started, then,” he grumbled.

“Pressing on!” she said, once more ignoring his snark. “We have to talk about what… what it means for us. We need to talk about what my feelings for Rarity mean for your little crush…”

The boot lifted, and once more Twilight found herself staring at the unhappy eyes that sat in the darkness within.

“My little crush?” he asked. “What about your crush, shouldn’t we put that first? You know, like with absolutely everything else we do?!”

“Spike, please, one relationship crisis at a time. We can talk about–”

She startled herself, realizing what Spike had said.

“I-I don’t have a crush on Rarity, Spike! I love her!” she said, her voice rising once more. “There’s a big difference!”

“Oh, I agree!” answered the boot. “Maybe you can explain what it is, you know, since all that I’ve heard you say about her is how beautiful she is, and how nice it is to be touched by her, and the sound of her voice… and not one dang thing about her personality, her talents, or her grace!”

The boot stared back at her, and for a moment they shared a gaze.

“Yeah,” Spike said. “I haven’t heard you say one word in praise of her for the pony that she really is! That’s… wow, that’s making your feelings for Gash Aplenty look deep! You… you don’t even have a crush on her, Twi! You j-just – have the hots for her!”

“Oh?” she answered, no small amount of sarcasm in her own voice. “And the way that you see her? Your crush… the way that you make up T-shirts with her picture on it, the way you fawn over her hair? These are all signs of a deep, unbridled love that will last the ages?”

“Yes!” the boot answered. Almost immediately, a sort of quiet contemplation went over the boot, and it bowed slightly.

“Well, no, of course not… but, but it’s different for me, Twilight. It’s different because… because that’s all I can do for her,” he answered, his voice becoming quieter. “I help her with her projects because it makes me happy to be near her. I let her stick her pins in me because it makes me happy to see her become so excited about her sewing and stuff. I-I believe in her, and I do everything that I can to help her because it makes me happy to know that I’ve done my best for her.”

Spike’s head lowered some more, dipping the boot so that it presented the appearance of a clinically depressed giraffe.

“That’s what I do for her… because I love her. That’s what I do for her, because it’s all that I can… that’s all that I can do. That’s all that I can do, because…” he whimpered, his voice fading away.

Twilight felt her anger dripping away as he said the words. He was on the verge of admitting something to himself, something painful. Despite the knowledge that she had already hurt him, Twilight pushed him forward, wanting to help him through this step, knowing the fact that lingered around his crush.

“It’s all that you can do for her,” Twilight said, “because you are still a little boy, a dragon whelp...”

Silence.

“Yes,” he admitted, the word escaping him in a pained tone.

“And because Rarity is old enough to be exploring real relationships, ones that will take her places where… you’re not ready to go, yet,” she said, trying to put more and more understanding into her voice.

“Yes,” he answered in a deeply miserable, deeply hurt tone.

Poor Spike, she thought. My poor little guy…

Twilight thought about her little drake, the dragon whelp who sat wedged into the punctured floorboards.

Spike had a mental maturity that was beyond his years. She winced inwardly, knowing that her own parenting skills had probably been responsible for that, both in the good and in the bad sense. Yes, he still liked to joke around like a little kid, but no colt or filly his age would be asked to do the things he did for her.

He was wise beyond his years. Spike had an old soul. Yes, he was still a boy who sat around on his days of patting his tummy and smelling his toes, but he did more contemplating of his navel than anypony she had ever met.

Well, if he’d possessed a navel. Being born from an egg had kind of gypped him out of a belly button.

Still, it remained true that he was the one she had relied upon, and he had borne the trials and tribulations of it well. An old soul… one who had always worried about her, one who had always defended her and implored her to do her best. He had been the one who had called upon Celestia for help when a fit of adorable insanity had claimed her. He had been the one who had refused to stop helping her, who had sheepishly stayed by her side, and in the end, had been instrumental in saving an entire race of ponies from enslavement.

And, in her darkest moment, he had been the one at her bedside, saying that she could accomplish anything.

Anything, it seemed, but get a boot to talk to her about her new feelings.

Twilight sighed. Spike had a mind beyond his years, an old soul… and a body that had betrayed him.

Spike was a romantic. He believed in love. It was one of his defining traits. He was one of the “huggiest” creatures she had ever met. Once again today he had proven that he was not judgmental, that his love extended to all he knew without question or judgment.

Only his age, being a child with a child’s body and child’s perceptions and ability to contextualize, were what kept him from feeling the same way that she did. Yes, she had to admit, Spike loved Rarity. His feelings for her could not mature, though. His traitorous body had assured that. He may have been an old soul, but his body was that of a boy who had only seen the dawn of his second decade.

He may have had the mental capacity of a child who’d been raised by a bookish librarian, and may have had coping skills beyond what a whelp his age should have had to use, but his brain, physically, was still that of a boy who had not yet dealt with the absurd wonders of puberty.

Whelp his age. 

Twilight shuddered slightly. What did that mean? They knew so little about dragons. Spike’s quest to discover more about his kind had ended poorly to say the least. The idea that her little baby dragon could end up like those… those jerks stung at her. Did he really need to become a greedy brute to grow? The fact that he’d grown as much as he had in the years they had been together surely meant something. There had to be some hope that he could escape a life dictated by greed. There had to be.

When he had been very little, he had slept right in her bed with her. The dragon fingerling had passed his nights in her care after coming from the nursery. The wailing infant had been moved to his own crib when his molts had left her pulling his skin from her mane during class. He had wailed and cried all that night, only dropping from exhaustion in the earliest hours of the morning.

Now, his body was causing a rift between them again.

He might spend the rest of Rarity’s lifetime as a whelp this size. Or he could sneeze tomorrow and sprout to the size of a full-grown stallion. Who knew? All that she knew was that, at this moment, Spike could not access the higher functions and concepts that came with romantic love. He could see it, feel it… but it was a place where he was just not ready to go.

That didn’t mean that she hadn’t hurt him… it just meant she had hurt him in a way that he couldn’t fully explain to himself.

“Twilight?” Spike asked, pain floating in his voice. “You have so much. You have so many ponies that love you. You have so many who respect you. You get to be a hero over and over. You get to go to parties that I don’t and do things that I can’t. You got to become a princess, even… why did you have to take the one thing that I have? Why did you have to take my feelings?”

“Spike,” she said, keeping her voice low, “I didn’t take your feelings. You still have them; they are yours to have. There’s nothing wrong or bad with how you feel about Rarity.  I know because I feel them, too. I really do, Spike. I hope that you believe me when I say that I want to see her happy, that I want to be the one to make her happy. I hope that I can do as well as you have. I hope I can make her smile and help her do her best, just like you have­­–”

Twilight felt the wrathful, jealous, demon inside herself die as she praised Spike’s feelings for the unicorn. She watched, happily, as it shriveled up, fell away into dust, and blew away on the winds of her emotions.

“–and I know that it must hurt so much to hear me say these things. But, Spike, what I’m asking is that you let me tell you why I need you to know.”

Spike looked up to her, his eyes filling the space in the boot, looking like a forlorn puppy. “Twilight,” he said. “All I’ve got in this world is the ponies I care about. All I have is the feelings that I’ve got for them. I had to give all of my birthday presents away so I didn’t get all greedy. The doggie basket I sleep in was here in the library when we arrived. Heh, if I hadn’t remembered to grab my blankie and stuff it in my pocket before we left Canterlot, it probably would have been tossed away…”

Twilight’s ears fell down, and as she looked at him she felt a deep sadness come over her. He was right. He had nothing. The only things he had in the world were his relationships.

“Now… now I feel like I’m gonna to lose both the mares I love most in the world.”

Twilight lifted her head. She tilted it back and forth, pondering his statement. “Alright,” she said. “I give up. That sounds like a pretty scary thing. What do you mean, Spike? What do you mean lose? And… both? Are you… are you afraid that she won’t feel the way she does about you? Are you afraid that…”

Twilight gulped a little.

“Twi, your lip,” the dragon whimpered, noticing the blood for the first time.

“Spike, I’m not mad at you for having a crush on her,” she said, forcing the topic. “I’m sorry if–”

“Twilight,” he interrupted, “if I could put my finger on your mouth right now, I would, even with the blood and stuff…”

Twilight went quiet, letting him speak his mind.

“Twi, I believe you. I believe you when you say that you want to make Rarity as happy as she makes you feel. I believe you when you say that you have real feelings for her, not just ‘the hots,’” he said.

Twilight tried her best to stifle a giggle. The image of her little baby dragon saying “the hots” would be with her through the rest of her life. She fought back to an attentive stance as he continued.

“But, Twi, I-I don’t know much about being in love, but that kinda thing, it seems like it takes time and effort and give and take and, well, that’s all time that neither of you will spend with… me.”

Twilight began to open her mouth, but he silenced her once more.

“I’ve always… I’ve always kinda known that you were gonna start dating someday,” he said, his voice fading. “I’ve always been getting ready for the day when… when I wouldn’t be the most important boy in your life anymore…”

He looked away, and Twilight nearly began to cry. It was only his being trapped in the floorboards that kept her from scooping him up in a massive, reassuring, hug. Instead, she lowered herself down as far as she could, her belly soaking in the cold, soapy waters that lay across the floor once more.

“But, but I’ve always thought that if that, when that happens, that I’d have Rarity to go to, that I’d always have the way I feel for her to keep me strong, to keep me from becoming lonely,” he said as the boot slowly came around to face her again. “Just like… just like if she ever found a stallion, that I’d have you to hold me, and to tell me that it will be okay…”

He forced himself to laugh. It was a transparent gesture, obvious and insincere. “Heh… but the colt you have feelings for, well, isn’t a colt! And the stallion that I was afraid was going to steal my place in her eyes… well, is a mare… the mare that I was afraid of losing in the first place. Heh, it’s like Applejack says about the ponies at her Co-Op, huh?”

Twilight turned her eyes towards the ceiling, thought for a second, and then answered him in her best interpretation of Applejack’s drawl. “Ya got kicked in the flank comin’ and goin’?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

“Heh,” he laughed, this time in sincerity, “I tried to wrap my head around losing one of you… I never imagined losing both of you.”

“No, Spike, that’s not true. You aren’t losing either of us, I promise,” she said, forcing her jaw closer to the hole it had made on the floor, sliding as close to him as she could, her face kicking up more puddles of the sudsy waters.

“Spike, part of being a grown-up is knowing how to treat those who are important to you… knowing how to keep your relationships strong. This… this doesn’t change how Rarity sees you, I know it, and it certainly doesn’t make me love you any less. I promise. I’ll go and get the cupcake to stick in my eye right now, if you want…”

Spike smirked, the expression evident even through the darkness of the boot. She let herself smile a little, too, grateful for the closest thing to a smile he’d worn in over an hour.

“I told you once that I’d never replace you, that I’d never send you away. I meant that, Spike. That doesn’t change for anything. You can’t be replaced in my heart, and I know that Rarity feels the same way. It… it must be scary for you right now, but, when you are older, you’ll see why. You’ll see that there are so many different ways that we love one another,” she said, pushing her face as close to the entangled dragon as she could, looking up into his eyes.

“Spike,” she said, “I’ve never loved anypony, any creature, the way that I love you, and I don’t think it is possible for anyone to. I’m sure that Rarity feels the same way about you. I’m sure she loves you dearly, and that is something that I could never steal from you… something that I have never wanted to.”

Spike looked down at her, at Her Majesty Twilight Sparkle, lying amid the floating soap bubbles, the scattered laundry, and the ruined bits of cuckoo clock. He closed his eyes, counted to three, and then looked at her once more.

“Twi, I get what you’re trying to say. It’s what you’re supposed to tell foals… tell them that ‘I love you in a special way – a way I don’t love that pony’. What you’re trying to say is your love for Rarity is romantic and stuff… the way you love me is like for family,” he said.

Stop having such an old soul, my baby dragon... 

“But I don’t believe it,” he said, dropping worry and fear through her. “I don’t believe it, because, if you think that you love Rarity as much as I love her, then you are going to need to work really hard to make her happy.”

He stared directly into her eyes. “If you think you love her as much as I do, then ya just won't stop until she’s happy, then you’ll make her believe that the most perfect special somepony has been presented to her as a gift from Celestia. If you love her as much as I do, then you are going to have to give up time with me… then we’ll have to see less and less of one another. Because, Twi, I think Rarity is worth it. I’d lose my time with you, and with her, if you can make her happy.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped again, nearly creating a second crater in the floor.

Spike heaved a mighty sigh, and then, looking like he’d just run a marathon. The boot drooped, and the boy inside went silent. Twilight remained still for a long while, watching as her little dragon dwelt with is own inner thoughts.  The sunlight fell across the broken pieces of the clock, and the soap bubbled drifted along on the unseen currents on the floor.

Spike sighed, then he looked at her once more.

“And I’m pretty sure you can. So, I forgive you, Twilight Sparkle,” he said. “I forgive you for lying to me, for using me, Twi. I forgive you because if you feel anything close to what I feel when I'm around Rarity... then I know what it's like. I forgive you because you’re really, really sad that you hurt me, and it’s hurting you to know that you did. If there’s anything, anything, anything that I’ve never, ever wanted, it was to make you sad… I’ve never wanted to hurt you, too.”

“Spike,” she whispered.

“Twi,” he continued, “you’re the most amazing pony I’ve ever known. You’re the smartest, you’re the most powerful, and you’re the most incredible. You're just awesome, Twi."

Spike took another long breath, and his eyes, even buried deep in the boot as they were, seemed to fill with emotions. He closed his eyes, and Twilight almost jumped with alarm at the sight of the pain that seemed to hang over him, almost hanging above him visibly.

His eyes came back open slowly, and he looked at Twilight, and then breathed an admission, one that seemed to split him open and leave all of his hopes streaming away like the white of a cracked egg.

"If anypony can make Rarity happy, it’s you.”

Twilight didn’t dare breathe.

Spike drew a breath large enough for both of them, and she watched as he released it as a massive sigh, one that hung around them in a moist cloud. His eyes closed for a moment, and when they came back open he seemed to have deflated a little, as though some part of himself had slipped out.

“Twi,” he said. “I’m… I’m happy for you. I-I’m okay with you having feelings for Rarity. I love her. I will always have feelings for her, and I don’t think they’re wrong. B-but I love Rarity enough to want her to be with somepony w-who can love her in ways I can’t.”

He stared at her for another second.

“Congratulations, Twi. Be good to her,” he whispered.

She watched as the boot drooped, and his eyes disappeared inside them, clenched shut once more.  Twilight's ears popped up, searching through the boot for any traces of weeping. She found none. He was choking them back. He was being strong. He was being strong for her. After all she had done to him, he was being strong for her.

"Spike," she said in a soft tone. "I don't want to steal from you again. I don't want you to ever run away from my hug again. If there is anything I can do or say then..."

"Please stop being sad, Twi," the boot croaked. "Please just stop being sad. I hate it when you're sad."

Twilight made tiny motions, closing the already tiny distance between them. “Spike,” she said, matching his tiny tone, “are you sure? Are you absolutely, positively sure?”

The boot slowly lifted itself to face her, and she tilted her head, looking deep into the emerald eyes within. They searched through one another. They stared into one another’s eyes until they found the truth that sat there, until the bonds of love, trust, and closeness that had been tested were rediscovered once more.

What Twilight found was the little baby dragon who had slept next to her bed, or even snuggled close to her, for most of her life… the dragon that had been with her through everything.

What Spike found was the filly who had stood over his crib playing “Peekaboo” with him, his first memory, the pony he loved the most in the world.

"How can I be sad?" she said, her voice regaining some strength. "I have my great little guy with me."

Twilight giggled a little, and he answered.

“I’d give ya a hug,” he said, wiggling the fingers of his trapped hands, “but…”

Seeing the context of his dilemma, Twilight lifted her muzzle, and as she pressed it deep within the burned-out point of the boot, it made contact with a familiar nose. She gave a little motion, and soon the two dear friends were nuzzling their faces across one another as best they could, reconnecting the last frayed ends of the long, happy bonds they had long shared.

Eventually, Spike’s voice lifted from within the yellow confines. “Twi?” he asked. “This is nice and all, but… well, my arms are asleep, and I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, let’s see!” she said, lifting her head away from his. Her magic came alight as she looked the spectacle of the dragon over once more.

“Careful, Twi,” he said, feeling the familiar sensation of her magic falling around him, “I don’t wanna find my bottom turned into an orange or anything!”

“Oh, shush!” she said, smiling a little at the return of his humor. “It’s a simple little bit of telekinesis! I just need to be sure to grab ahold of…”

The magic lifted him up, and soon the dragon hovered in mid-air, looking around as the magic unraveled the apron and dislodged the boot from…

“Aaaaggghhhh!” he called, slipping from Twilight’s magical grasp.

Spike fell through the hole in the floor and into the basement below. His landing in the basement was marked by a series of thuds, childish curse words, the sound of toppling scientific equipment, primary explosions, and terrified poultry… the latter being for reasons beyond her understanding.

“Twilight!” called a rather wounded and very upset-sounding dragon drake.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry!” she called, her voice high with concern. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” she repeated over and over, turning at once and galloping towards the basement stairs, ready to see to his injuries and help extinguish any fires.

“Twilight, the soap!” she heard him cry. It took her a moment to discern his meaning, but by that time her hoof had already come in contact with the white bar of soap that sat at the top of the stairs.

There was a single surprised gasp, and then the library was filled with the sounds of an alicorn princess falling down the basement stairs. This was marked by her cries of “Aargh!” and “Oof” and the sound of toppling scientific equipment, secondary explosions, and the continued sounds of terrified poultry.

Silence reigned around the basement for a good minute. In time, the sounds of a little dragon lifted through the chamber beneath the vast, ancient oak that made up their library home.

“Twi?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“Nope,” she answered. “Not really. You?”

The dragon went silent once more, but after awhile his voice crept across the basement.

“Twi?”

“Yes, Spike?” she answered.

“Love hurts.”

The alicorn was silent for a moment, and then replied to his observation.

“It does.”

 _____________________________________________________________________

Owloysius arrived home to quite the scene. The owl looked around Golden Oaks Library, contemplating all that he saw as one of his eyebrows arched and his beak hung open. He flapped his way up to the living quarters of the library, and there he found his Mistress and his Supervisor.

He very nearly passed out at the sight of them.

Twilight Sparkle and Spike had not had a physical altercation, but they certainly had done a job on one another… and on the library.

They sat together in the bathroom, dabbing peroxide on one another and running gauze and bandages.

“So, ummm, Twi?” Spike said as he dripped the iodine onto her cuts.

“Ow,” she answered.

“Sorry,” he said.

“That’s all right,” she lied, wincing each time the applicator brushed her coat. “What were you about to ask, Spike?”

“Well,” he said with a sigh, “when you told Rarity, how did she take it? How… well, how did she react?”

“Well, Spike, that’s the… ow,” she said, wincing as he wrapped more adhesive bandages to her.

“Sorry,” he answered.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Spike.”

Spike looked out from beyond his own bandage to find her face. She looked very nervous, and a little… anxious?

“Spike, I couldn’t tell her,” she said. “When I tried, at the picnic… it just wouldn’t come.”

“So, wait,” he said, dropping the bottle of hydrogen peroxide. It bounced off of her outstretched wing.

“Ow,” she said.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he answered.

“It’s all right,” she said.

“What you’re saying is, Twi, that we went through all of this today… and Rarity doesn’t even know that you have feelings for her?”

“No,” Twilight whispered, “no… she doesn’t. I wasn’t brave enough to tell her.”

“Oh, Twi!” he called, leaning forward to wrap her in a hug.

“Ow!” she said.

“Oh… sorry!” he answered.

“It’s okay, really,” she said, grimacing. She leaned back to him, ignoring the protests of her body, and lifted some more splints and bandages into place on her little dragon.

“That’s why I needed to tell you first. That’s why I needed your forgiveness. That’s why I needed you to be the first to accept that I had feelings for a mare, to accept my feelings for Rarity,” she said, running her hoof across his frills.

“Ow,” he said.

“Sorry,” she answered. “Spike, I needed all of that… because I need you. I need your help, as I always do. I-I need you to be there for me. I need you to believe in me, as you always do.”

She smiled down at him.

“I need my Number One Assistant to help me through this, because it’s all new to me. Spike, this is just another chapter in our lives together, and I don’t know how it is going to turn out. I don’t know if Rarity can have these feelings for me. I don’t even know if she can have feelings like the type I hope she does for a mare.”

“Heh,” he chuckled. He began to cross his arms, but that hurt too much. “ I guess that if Blueblood can’t put a mare off stallions, no stallion can."

Twilight rolled her eyes… but that hurt too much. Instead she just lowered them back to Spike again.

“Spike,” she said, “in this story, you aren’t a bit player. You are part of the story of my life, and I can’t… I wouldn’t leave you out of it. You’re the main supporting character. I need you with me, I need to know you’ll be there for me.”

She smiled over him again, awaiting his answer.

“Are you ready for the next chapter, Number One Assistant?”

Spike smiled back up to her. He was going to give her a thumbs-up, a new gesture he had devised to show his approval for statements or situations… but it hurt too much. Instead, he simply winked and smiled.

“That’s what I’m here for, Sister!”

Twilight giggled. Spike smiled. They both moved forward and attempted to wrap the other in a hug.

“Ow,” they said in unison.

“Sorry,” they replied in kind.

They stared at one another once again, the two best friends simply shaking their heads and smiling with goofy grins and contemplative giggles.

“Where… where doesn’t it hurt, Twi?” Spike finally asked.

“Here,” she said, raising her hoof to point at the top of her head, just beneath her horn. Knowing what Spike wanted to do, she lowered her head as the little drake raised himself up on his tiptoes.

Spike placed a kiss there, gently touching his lips to the spot between her eyes and under her horn.

“Twi,” he said, lowering himself back down, “do me a favor. I know I asked you to make Rarity happy, and I hope, hope, hope that you can show her that you want to. But, no matter how far your relationship with her goes, do me one thing?”

“What is it, Spike?” she asked.

“Never, ever, ever let her forget that she has a very, very, very, very, very special somepony.”

Twilight’s heart leapt at the little gentledrake’s statement… but that hurt too much. Instead, she smiled back at him, little happy tears forming at the edges of her eyes.

“Spike?” she asked. “Where doesn’t it hurt?”

“Here,” he answered with a hoarse chuckle, pointing at his right cheek. “It doesn’t hurt here, Twi.”

Procer Twilight Sparkle Harmonia lowered her head, and then planted a kiss on the cheek of the child, the drake leaning into it slightly to capture all of the joy and comfort that came from the touch of the one he knew best in the world.

Owloysius felt himself smile, and as such he left them alone to go ponder the puddles in the living room, the guilty-looking bar of soap in the basement, and sympathize with the homeless cuckoo bird.

 -------------------------------------------

"And you've been doing odd jobs and the like?" asked the unicorn, the words muffling slightly as they slid down the stairs and around corners.

"Yeah!" Spike answered before taking another bite out of the garnet. His eyes swam across the delicious spread of gems that Rarity had placed before him. Her generosity was on display today... and behind his eyes, something flickered. A worry presented itself, and he brushed it aside before it could sink into him.

"You know, whatever pops up. I'm saving bits to get for Twilight," he said, hiding a little burp behind his hand.

"Twilight?" Rarity answered, the name seeming to hang around in an uncertain cloud.

""I broke Twilight's cuckoo clock by accident. Well, she says the 'we' broke it, but I wanna buy her a new one. Or get the old one fixed," he said. "Ya know. So, odd jobs, here and there."

“Well, I must say that's very nice of you, Spikey-Wikey,” Rarity said, her voice coming from the upstairs of the refurbished Carousel Boutique. “Are you quite sure that you’ve had enough to eat?”

“Plenty, milady,” he answered, lifting his voice. “Thank you so much.”

“You… you are most welcome,” she said, a form of anxiety creeping into her voice as she appeared in the upstairs hallways and began to descend the stairs. “Are you quite certain that there is nothing else I can get for you? Something to drink, perhaps?”

This will be so hard for the poor dear, she thought. This will murder the little darling.

“No... no, Rarity, I’m fine,” Spike said, sensing the tone in her voice. “I-I didn’t expect to get anything at all when I came here. I just, well… you know, showed up to help.”

“Yes, darling,” she said, joining him. “You know that your help means the world to me. You know that you are dear to me. B-but…”

At the word, Spike wheeled around, and Rarity’s expression said everything. The fire ruby hung around her neck, the gift he had given her long ago. In an instant, he knew where this was going. In a moment, he knew what was about to happen here in the immaculate, newly-ropened boutique.

He gave a little shake, and his snarky, sardonic side opened up, his great defense against a world that was so much bigger than himself.

“Uh oh,” he whined. “A ‘but’. There’s always gotta be a great, big ‘but.’”

The two laughed at the little joke, Rarity hiding behind her hoof at the slightly off-color remark. When she lowered her hoof, the vision of a dragon drake hiding behind a painted smile met her, and the tears forming at the sides of his face began to tear her apart.

“I-Is it b-because I’m a d-dragon?” he asked, the pain welling up to the surface.

Rarity missed a step. He had guessed it right away. He had somehow known… as though he himself were anticipating some reason for the topic to be broached. Her hooves moved instantly, and in a moment she was drawing the dragon into her chest, pulling him closer to her.

“Oh, my poor Spikey-Wikey! I am so sorry, I am so very sorry,” she said, her own vice catching. “I haven’t meant to hurt you. You are so dear to me, Spike. I’ve known of your feelings for me a great long while.”

She ran her hoof through his frills, ran her face against his.

“It is not because you are a dragon, Spike. I’ve simply been unable to return your feelings because… because…”

“Because I’m still a little kid,” he choked.

“Yes,” she said, a sense of relief going across her, her whole frame thankful for his understanding. “I-it’s hard for me, or any adult, to explain, but I can not have romantic feelings for a child, Spike. No healthy adult does; no adult worthy of the trust of a child would claim such emotions for them.”

She ran her face across his again. She fought for the right things to say.

“Spike, darling, I knew of your feelings, and I let you feel them because… because they were making you happy. It made me happy to know that helping me, spending time with me, made you happy,” she said. “But… but, oh, Spikey-Wikey, I can’t keep letting you live in the shadow of that hope. Not with… not with how things have changed for me.”

She felt Spike jump in her forelegs. She lifted away from him, grasping his hands in her hooves. She lifted them up until they traced the white of her coat across her neck, until they came up under the curls of her exquisite mane.

And as she guided them back down, the fire ruby necklace came with it, the gorget held in his clawed hands.

“Spike, never, ever, ever doubt that you are special to me. Never ever, ever doubt that I love you as dearly as mare can love a child who she has been fortunate enough to have enter her life. Never, ever, ever doubt that your gentleness, commitment, and caring have meant the world to me,” she said, sniffling back some tears.

She wiped her hoof across her face, still holding the necklace to his hands.

“Spikey-Wikey, never, ever, ever doubt that someday, some mare, some dragoness, some griffoness or some female creature will see you for the wonderful, intelligent, handsome, compassionate, caring, generous, humorous gentledrake that you are,” she said, her voice breaking even further.

She steadied herself, and then pressed the fire ruby into his chest with both of her hooves.

“But, Spike,” she said, taking a firm breath, “with what I’ve come to know about myself over these last few weeks… I, I have to let you know. It is only fair to let you know that… that mare will never be me.”

She looked down at the fire ruby that he held in his trembling hands.

“I won’t keep it under false pretenses.”

She turned her head. She expected him to begin wailing, screaming, begging. Yet, after a few minutes, nothing of the sort occurred. She slowly turned her head back to face him once again, expecting the worst.

He was crying, but it wasn’t nearly what she had expected. He seemed restrained, as though he had been warned, as though there were something that had tempered his response.

Even as the tears flowed down his face, he took deep breaths, and then he lifted the necklace back up to her.

“Rarity?” he said, forcing some strength into his voice. “I-I didn’t give it to you for any other reason than… than I saw that it would make you happy. I just want you to be happy, that’s all I want.”

He wiped his face across the back of his arms, drawing the tears across the slick surface of his scales.

“I-I can’t stop feeling the way about you that I do. I can’t stop seeing you that way. I’m sorry. But, but, Rarity, I didn’t give it to you ‘cause I wanted anything in return. I gave it to you because you’re a beautiful mare who deserves nice things. I gave it to you because you’ve been a good friend to me, and I want you to be happy. There wasn’t any false pretense… it was all true pretense!”

She giggled slightly, surprising herself at her reaction to his innocent mistake of comprehension.

 Oh, Spikey-Wikey, never change…

Spike took a deep breath, and then stared up to her again. He lifted the fire ruby, offering to return it. To Spike’s surprise, it was now Rarity who had the tears falling down her face.

“Very well then,” she said, coughing a little to hide her emotions. “Spikey-Wikey, my dear friend, if that is the case, then I once more accept your generous gift.”

She leaned closer to the whelp, and her hooves lifted her great, thick curls off of her shoulders, revealing the gentle curves of her neck.

The drake stood up on his tiptoes, graciously answering the lady’s request to affix it in its prescribed place.

“So,” he said, gently letting his hands fall across her neck, fighting with the latch, “something you realized about yourself? Something about relationships, huh? That’s why you had to tell me. You wanted me to know first.”

“Y-Yes,” she said, trepidation in her voice, not understanding where all of his magnificent understanding could be coming from. “It’s… it’s something that, that I hadn’t thought… something…”

“You like a mare, don’tcha?” he said.

Spike could feel Rarity startle,  sense her eyes going wide, and feel her draw a heavy breath.

“S-Spike… I-I… it’s, oh, Spike, I want, I need…”

Rarity could feel the fear welling up in her. She felt Spike pulling away from her, leaving the necklace around her neck. She forced herself to look down, look to whatever form of surprise or judgment sat on his features at her admission.

To her continued confusion, she found none. The only thing there was the simple stare of a boy looking back to her with… understanding? Acceptance? No… no, there was something more.

“It’s okay, Rarity,” he said, stepping towards her again. In a moment he was running his hand up and down her foreleg, as though trying to draw the confusion and worry out of her. “That’s okay. It really is. Everypony who loves you will be okay with that. Every creature who loves you will accept that.”

She hadn’t dreamed that it could go this well. She couldn’t have dared hope.

“Rarity?” he said, still drawing his hand up and down her leg. “I have to ask… the mare, the one you’ve discovered that you have feelings for. Was it only, well, just over the last few weeks that you realized it?”

Rarity drew a gasp, and her mouth came open. She emitted a small, indelicate squeak, instantly trying to hide it inside of a wince. She tried to hide there, behind her eyes, but she could not.

“Rarity?” she heard him say again. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She opened her eyes. He was still crying, but something had changed. It was the most peculiar thing. He was smiling. He was crying and smiling.

“You don’t have to tell me, but… Rarity, the mare, is it somepony I know? Somepony who is already very special to me? Somepony who we both love?

Her secret spilled out in front of her, and Rarity began to weep openly. Her fear consumed her, and feelings that she never thought she could have for one of her friends suddenly opened up in front of the dragon, the one she needed to know first, and the one whom she thought she would be breaking with this truth.

Instead, as she sobbed, her ran his hands up and down her forelegs, trying to calm her.

“Spike! Spike, what am I to do?” she sobbed. “I-I couldn’t tell her, when we were staying with you. I didn’t know how! What… what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if she thinks poorly of me for feeling this way for a mare! What, what if it destroys our fri–”

Rarity went silent as a single clawed finger fell across her lips. Her eyes fell down to the little dragon again, diving through his, the grown mare finding herself in the ridiculous position of searching the expression of a child for comfort.

She found it there in abundance.

“Shhh, hey, it’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay, Rarity. It’s okay.” Tears still dripped out of his eyes, but he still wore that smile, a smile that seemed filled with something that Rarity could only describe as… hope.

He moved his finger from her mouth upwards, gently rubbing the space under her horn and between her eyes until her tears slowed, until her breathing slowed.

You deserve nice things, Rarity, thought Spike. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with a pony who can make you happy in ways I can’t. Just… make her happy, too.

“Rarity?” Spike whispered.

The unicorn calmed, only a few tears were rolling down her cheeks now. She looked down to discover his hands sitting flat before her, and she lowered her chin into them, letting him hold her head so he could look into her eyes.

“Rarity,” he said, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

His smile became sweeter, and something of his mischievous side arose in him. With that, the dragon played his part in this chapter of the lives of the mares he loved most in the world. His voice erupted in a singsong tone even as the last tear ran down his face, his words filing the boutique as he prepared to let her know an important truth.

“Rarity… I know something you don’t know!”

End.