Spike hissed as he ran the hot washcloth across his abdomen. The tears on his face were as hot as the boiling water. He could not feel his skull which was probably good as the rest of him was on fire. With breaks and bruises and cuts from where their nails had cut into him. He sat down heavily on the closed toilet seat and put his head between his knees.

He wanted to puke, or pass out, he wanted to curl up and run away all at the same time. His head pounded and he dug his fingers into his hair and scalp. His tears fell and splattered against the cool tile floor. Back at the home they only had wood, even in the bathrooms it was cheap wood that would splinter and jab you if you ran too fast.

Spike slowly slid down and lay on the floor, his body felt as heavy as his soul, his mind whirled and it was not just from the beating that he had received. He needed to think, to plan, he needed to make a list and check every single thing down. Just like Twilight would tell him to do.

His hands began to shake and spasm. With guilty fingers he reached into his pocket. He pulled out the lighter, somehow intact from the beating that he had received. He flicked it and the comforting glow expanded from the top. He ran his finger tips right over the fire. It burned and comforted him, he hissed and looked around.

Toilet paper. Toilet paper would do. He lifted the seat and pulled out a scrap of toilet paper. He brought the fire to the corner and started the blaze. IT quickly ate up the thin pieces of tampered paper and he dropped it into the watery bowl where it sizzled and ceased. He did this with three more squares. The soot and water mixed and he noticed that his nose was bleeding, a few fat drops had fallen into the water.

He would need to borrow some of Twilight's makeup without her seeing and cover up the black eye too. Luckily it had hit him low enough that it hadn't swollen up.

Spike stood back up unsteadily and began to tend to the swelling on his stomach and sides.

Those looks, they were going to kill him, they were going to hurt him so bad that they would kill him.

He remembered every single word that they said to him. He could close his eyes and be transported right back to the bridge, every second cut into his mind, it might have happened earlier that day but it felt like it had happened a few seconds ago.

"H-H-H" That was all that Spike could say as Garble pushed his head back.

"How? Easy, we committed it when we were minors. They could only hold us until we were eighteen. Guess who just had their birthday?" Garble's teeth flashed yellow and nicotine stained at him. Spike closed his eyes and turned his head away, this couldn't be real, it was just a bad dream. Soon it would change and he would be running with the others and Sweetie Belle would be there.

Almost as if he could read his thoughts Garble snickered.

"This is real Spikey boy, this is actually happening. You're here, with us. And we are gonna get whats coming to us."

"Snitches get stitches." Grunt the large boy said grinning viciously, his compatriot Clunk laughed shrilly. Crackle cracked her knuckles and looked at him with ice.

"Don't worry Spikey, we won't kill you. Yet. all we're going to do is hurt you so hard that you can't breathe, then we're gonna give you a nice ride back to your place. Oh yeah we know where you live too buddy boy." Spike felt his feet turn cold and his legs start to give out under him, he wish that he could faint and wake up and it all be over with.

They knew, they knew everything, his home, that meant they had seen who he had been hanging out with. He felt a cold finger slide up his spine. That meant that they probably knew where his friends lived too.

"I've been waiting years for this moment." Garble said as he reared his fist backwards. "Round one. Ding!"

Spike closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, he could feel every single punch. Those four were as vicious as ever, they must have been the ones in the car with the fireworks. And they would not stop.

They wouldn't kill him yet, they would make him suffer. That was just their style, make you suffer but also make sure that it wasn't evident. That was why they focused on his body and legs. He didn't take his shirt off that often already. Now he would keep it on all the time, the punches on the face were his fault, he had been struggling and they missed.

He was lucky that Clunk didn't have his knife, and that Grunt wasn't in the mood to beat him with a stick. Spike went back to washing himself. A dab here and a pat there and he was pretty sure that most of the swelling had disappeared.

He opened the mirror and took out some of Twilights make up base, she didn't wear it often so he should be able to use most of it. He spread it under his eye and a little on the side of his nose. It would do if no one looked too closely. Spike took the rags and gathered them up, he would need to wash them before anyone got home.

He quickly got downstairs and threw them in the washing machine, he started it up just when he heard the front door slam. For all of the talk about being home early Spike had lucked out. Shining Armor was coming home so his parents had gone to pick him up and Twilight was tutoring some kids. She must have just gotten back.

He went back upstairs to find her sitting at the table. She looked up at Spike and smiled.
"Hey Spike! How was your day?" He wanted to break down and tell her right then and there. He wanted to hug her and probably ruin her blouse with snot and just have her tell him that it was all going to be okay.

But he knew those four. And they would never ever stop.

All he could do was smile and go to her and hug her. She jumped a little, surprised by the contact, but she wrapped her slender arms around him and squeezed back.

"It was fine." he said muffled against her. He pulled back and started upstairs, his ribs had started to hurt him and he needed a nap.

Twilight watched as he headed upstairs, a little confused. He seemed more worn down than usual. She looked at her shirt, there was a little smudge of brown on it. She wiped it off with a finger and held it up to her eye.

"Make up?"

The four teens sat around the parking lot, Garble needed more cigarettes and the rest were antsy after the first fight. Clunk was toying with a jar, turning it back and forth in his hands. Garble got agitated after he had not said a word for close to five minutes.

"Well? What is it?" He said aggressively and snatched it from the boys hands. He looked at it, some sort of flower it looked like. "Where did you get this piece of junk?"

"Spike dropped it just before we got him in the car." Clunk gave a little snicker, "The look on his face when we dropped him back home. Priceless!"

Garble frowned as he looked at the flower, if it was Spikes than they might be able to do something with it. Still to him it looked like a hunk of junk.

The names Grunt and Clunk are just because the brown dragon and purple dragon don't technically have names in the show and these seemed to fit.