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A Desperate Dream

by Regidar

a/n - not even remotely close to finished, as you’ll soon discover. hopefully it’s at least somewhat entertaining.

The sun rose just like it had every other day, bathing Equestria and lands beyond with its ominous sheets of radiation like the inconsiderate loser it is, selfishly providing the various plants and photosynthetic animals of Equestria with energy to continue on their merry way of life. One such creature who did quite well without the sun, for the most part, was one Spike the Dragon, who was currently ensconced deep in the warm folds of sleep and also his bed. He did so well without sun that he’d covered every window in the room with the thickest blinds he could find, fully intending to get as much sleep as possible. Unfortunately for him, he’d left the tiniest little crack in the top, which let a faint ray of light into the room. The ray hit one of the many massive crystals sticking down from the ceiling, which magnified the faint ray into a veritable laser, shining down directly into his left eye.
Spike squealed like a hog in a washer, leaping from his bed and clutching his eye. He had just been in the midst of the most beautiful dream, a dream where he had finally unlocked the courage to quit domestic life and move to The Big City™ to get a job filing paperwork for one of the many accounting firms. Being roused from such a fantastic dream—right in the middle of one of the best parts, making coffee for his supervisor—put Spike in a foul mood, doubly so when he realized he had to go and make tea for Twilight.
Shoving down his longing for a better life, Spike yawned and rubbed sleep from his eyes as he went to the kitchen and set about Ever so gently stirring the cup of chamomile he’d made for Twilight, he opened the door to her study.
“Ah! Spike!” Twilight swiveled her head 180-degrees to face him, a sickening yet subtle crunch sending a shiver down his spine. Scrolls and books lay scattered about the room, the princess perched on the legs of her flipped-over chair like a manic vulture. “I’ve done it! I can hear the singing of the spheres!”
Spike walked backwards out of the study and closed the door.
“Great.” He briefly contemplated pouring the rest of the extra-strength Alicorn tranquilizers he and Starlight kept readily with them into the tea before remembering that he’d already done that yesterday to stave off one of Twilight’s iconic psychotic breaks. Unfortunately for him, this meant that he had to go and ask Starlight for some of hers, well aware that Starlight for the most part didn’t administer any to Twilight and usually just snuck little sips of it herself throughout the day.
Spike set off to Starlight’s office, where she undoubtedly was, careful not to let any of the students he passed on his way there drag him into conversation.
“Hey, Spike!” Starlight Glimmer said as he slumped into her office, her tone disgustingly cheerful. “How’s my favorite dragon today?”
Spike looked around and when he did not see Smolder, came to accept that Starlight had been referring to him. “Awful, actually.”
Starlight’s expression plasticized. She’d merely asked that in a feigned politeness, and was very much not interested in having to pick Spike’s brain about whatever was troubling him. “Oh. Well, sorry to hear that!” An extremely awkward silence settled over the two for close to a minute.
“Are you gonna follow that up at all?” Spike finally asked.
Starlight shook her head. A small bit of weight lifted from Spike, strangely relieved that he didn’t need to detail the frankly horrific situation he found himself in. He’d already resigned himself to a lifetime of stoic shouldering of his current situation, his vestigial hopes drained of life and very much did not want to detail his deepest desires of a better life in accounting to anypony, least of all Starlight.
“Honestly, a little concerning since you’re the guidance counselor and all, but I guess I’m not a student, so...” He trailed off and avoided looking at Starlight directly. “Anyway. Do you have any of Twilight’s tranquilizers? I used the last of mine yesterday to keep her in check.”
Starlight shot a glance at the empty bottles beneath her desk, her mouth dry and cottony, sweat beading down her forehead.
Spike rolled his eyes and left.


“There ya are!” Applejack trotted up to Spike, who was slumped on the steps of Twilight’s crystal palace like a slain revolutionary. “Jeez, you look terrible. What’s up, buttercup?”
Spike cracked one wrinkled scaly eyelid and shot Applejack a withering glance. “Do you actually want to know or are you just asking as a preamble to a request?”
“Honestly? Both.”
This was right about when Spike noticed Applejack’s heinous nakedness. “Hey, where’s your hat?”
“Well, a spooky spirit from deep within this volcanic crevice that’s slowly been formin’ in the middle of the orchard for the last few months snuck up on me and stole it.”
“Let me guess,” Spike grunted. “You need me to go into the crevice with my supple little dragon body to pluck your hat from the depths of the earth.”
“I would not have used any of the words you just did, but yeah, basically. Yer the only one who can withstand the heat and volcanic fumes and whatnot.”
Spike sighed.


“Well, here goes nothing,” Spike deadpanned. With the utmost care and caution, Spike braced himself on either edge of the fissure, which immediately gave way. Spike tumbled and bounced deep into the recesses of the earth like a ball in a pachinko machine, smacking and bonking his head off several sharp (and even a few blunt) rocks. After what seemed like forever, he finally landed in a crumpled heap on a bed of beautiful shining emeralds. These weren’t just any emeralds—these were rows and rows of massive emeralds in the shapes of various gourds and melons, tantalizing and delicious. Spike un-crumpled himself, stomach rumbling.