Spike’s eyes opened, his sight returning just a step ahead of his hearing. It took him a moment to realize where he was.
A hospital.
Princess Celestia was in a conversation with the rest of the Friendship Council, but he didn’t hear the words. Alarmed, he looked at his body. To his relief, there were no needles in his arms, just a few sensors on his chest, reading his vitals into the nearby machine.
Then he remembered what had happened. He looked at his claws. They were clean. Purple, not red. Red...
“Was it a dream?”
He hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud until six faces turned to look at them. The five mortals’ faces were bloodshot and red. They had been crying.
It had been no dream.
Pinkie was by his bed in a shot, wrapping her forelegs around him. He wasn’t crying this time. He wasn’t mad. He was... not empty. It was more like his brain couldn’t process what had happened. It was trapped trying to comprehend this fact so emotions could be attached to it.
Fluttershy nuzzled him. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity looked at him with concern.
“It... it weren’t a dream, Spike,” Applejack said. “We... we pulled the memory outta ya. We saw what happened.”
Spike blinked. What? But... He looked at his claws. They were free of blood, but now he felt it again. The sign of what he had done.
“...Starlight...”
“She’s okay,” Pinkie said. “The doctors say she’ll get better.”
“Unfortunately,” Rainbow Dash said, so bitterly that nopony dared challenged her opinion.
“...Her horn...”
“She’s not using magic any time soon,” the cyan Pegasus said. “Or ever.” Pain was clear in her voice. There was anger. There was a desire to cause pain.
Spike’s claws sat in his vision. Bloody, even when clean.
And the dam opened. He cried, and cried, burying his face in Pinkie’s mane.
“Mom... Mom...”
He cried. How long, he didn’t know. But at some point, he heard his sobs in sync with others.
They were all crying.
He didn’t want to see it. He buried his face deeper. Twilight was dead. There’d be no more writing so much he got a wrist cramp, no more reshelving days, no more of her esoteric organization system. There’d be no more stargazing with her and having her point out all the different constellations. There’d be no more opening presents the night before Hearth’s Warming. There’d be no more leaning on her side and reading comic books while she worked. There’d be no more riding on her back while she trotted down the street or flew through the sky.
There’d be no more climbing into her bed after having a nightmare, like the week after the Crystal Empire when Sombra’s spell projected his worst fear, or when he was feeling down on himself like after his rampage through town or the Royal Wedding, or just when he wanted to not be alone, like he had done multiple times.
Starlight was alive, but damaged, thanks to him. She should be dead. He had wanted her dead, even if it was just for a moment. Did he still want her to? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to cry. He wanted Twilight. Not Pinkie, Twilight. He wanted his mother.
He couldn’t have his mother. Never again. He cried.
“It’s true then,” a new voice said.
Spike tensed up. He recognized that voice, and he looked up just long enough to register the speaker before burying himself into Pinkie again. This was the last one Spike wanted to deal with.
“Discord...” Celestia warned.
“Hey, I’m not here to make remarks,” Discord said. He actually sounded defensive. “Twilight...”
“Wait!” Rainbow Dash said, suddenly sounding very happy. “Discord, you can bring Twilight back to life, can’t you? I’ve seen you bring several things to life!”
Spike suddenly shot out and looked at Discord. Hope welled in his chest. He hadn’t thought about that.
Then his heart sunk. He saw Discord float there, folding his mismatched limbs behind his back and looking awkward.
“Well... no.”
“What?” Rainbow Dash was in his face. “I know you can, I’ve seen you! You have to! You...”
A muzzle poofed up on Rainbow Dash’s muzzle with a snap of Discord’s talons, effectively silencing her. The Pegasus stopped in shock. Then, in a rage, she flew at Discord. Another snap of the fingers and she was suddenly in a chair, her legs clamped down.
“I can’t give life. You’ve seen me make things move, repeat patterns, do preprogrammed things. But not give life. I could make Twilight’s body move, but it would be nothing more than a puppet to my magic, not the real thing.”
There was an uneasy silence. Seeing that Rainbow Dash stopped struggling, Discord released her.
“Wait, the time travel spell!” Applejack said, perking up. “Can’t we just use it to go back and stop Starlight from travelin’ into the past in the first place?”
“Hey, yeah!” Rainbow Dash said, perking up. “We just need to...”
“If it were that simple I would have already done so.”
All eyes turned on Celestia. She looked calm, collected.
“Did it strike you as odd that every timeline we saw in that flashback got progressively worse? That there was no outcome but a horrible one? That was no coincidence.”
“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.
“She means Time is a stickler for not having His work changed,” Discord said. “He always makes sure to punish everyone who tries by making the world they come to worse than they left. If we save Twilight, He’ll make things worse.”
Celestia went on. “Didn’t you find it a little odd that Starlight managed to alter such an advanced spell? The truth is Starswirl did most of the hard work. Anyone with an understanding of magic could unweave the safety measures and failsafes he had installed into it. He meant for it to be merely an observational tool, not an altering one.”
“It’s that dangerous?” Rarity asked. “And Twilight simply cast the spell when she first found it?”
“It was written in the official Equestrian format for spells, and in official records. Twilight cast it while following all instructions, she had every reason to trust it.”
Rainbow Dash spoke again. “Then why don’t we go talk to this Time guy and...”
“Please,” Discord said. “He’s beyond Celestia and Luna’s power to reach, and me... well, he doesn’t like me too much. I could try to go talk to him, but I doubt he’ll even give me the time of day.”
Fluttershy was in front of him with surprising speed. “Please, Discord, please try. I... I want my friend back. Please!”
Fluttershy was crying. So was Spike, again he realized.
“...Okay. But don’t get your hopes up. I seriously doubt I’ll even get in to see him.” Discord disappeared with a snap of his claw.
There was silence in the room. Spike buried his face in Pinkie’s mane again. He wanted to believe Discord would succeed, that any second now a perfectly okay Twilight would walk through the door and ask how he was.
But that look Discord had. He wasn’t playing around and making strange things happen. He was in genuine shock. That wasn’t an easy mood to get him in.
And the tears started anew.
Clocks everywhere. Oh, how original, Discord couldn’t help but think as he floated through the corridor, the constant ticking started to wear on him already. Still, he bore it, walking through to the large core room Time sat in.
He was an Alicorn... of course, most Spirits were unoriginal enough to take that form, and Time was nothing if not a Spirit with something rather large shoved up His rear. He looked like He might be related to Starswirl: same beard, and blue fur. His black hood and cloak covered Him, obscuring whatever cutie mark He had given Himself. He was on his stomach, looking through several monitors of whatever.
You didn’t knock, his voice said in Discord’s head, causing him to roll his eyes. Always with the ominous tone with this guy.
“I take it you know why I’m here?”
I take it you’ll know I’ll refuse, Time said.
“She died trying to fix your timeline,” Discord pointed out.
And? A mortal in a sea of trillions. Just another face gone in the blink. What meaning is it to me?
Discord felt anger well up in him. “Just a... you fool. You Creator-damned fool. You have no clue, do you?”
Discord felt Time’s laughter in his head. He actually was laughing. Oh Discord, you pathetic fool. It was sad enough when you were running around the mortal realms, playing childish games. Now you’ve actually let the very mortals who were your playthings collar you with their ideals. Hard to believe you’re really a spirit.
Discord clenched both of his mismatched fists together. He opened his mouth...
No Time said. And then Discord was gone.
Spike had stopped crying, but only because there were no more tears. He clinged to Pinkie as if she would disappear at any moment. Pinkie held him close.
The others watched silently. All except Celestia, who was talking to her aide.
“Have you started looking for a lawyer for Starlight? We'll find one. Offer them enough to retire if that’s what it takes. I will not make a mockery of the court system, even in this case. Any word on any previous contacts of hers? Well, bring it by Twilight’s castle. I’ll be staying tonight. Have everypony keep a lid on this. The hospital staff has signed non-disclosure agreements? Good. We’ll reveal it soon. No need to cause a panic before we can get the full story out.”
She then floated up a sheet of paper and turned to the group. “One of you needs to sign this.”
They all looked at her. All except Spike, still clinging to Pinkie.
“What is it?” Applejack asked.
“Temporary custody of Spike,” Celestia explained. “Twilight was his legal caregiver, and he’s too young to be on his own. Will one of you take him until more permanent plans can be made?”
They all gave each other a glance, a quick, private conversation playing out among the five of them. It was decided.
“I’ll take ‘im fer right now,” Applejack said, moving to grab a pen. “Sweet Apple Acres is more than big enough.”
As Applejack moved to sign, Rainbow Dash spoke. “I thought you’d take him,” she told Celestia. “Or Shining Armor. Or Twilight’s parents.”
“Perhaps after we can really work out everything. But none of Twilight’s family even knows yet. This can’t wait.” She floated the now signed form to her assistant and waved him off. “And I think the five of you will do him some good. And vice-versa.”
They all looked at the baby dragon again. He just moaned occasionally now.
“Take care of him. I must... I must attend to something.”
Celestia left.
She walked out of the hospital and flew. Shooting through the skies of Ponyville, it wasn’t long until she landed in Twilight’s castle.
She cast her spell. A shield went up around it. Nice and soundproof. Modified to let Spike or the other members of the Friendship Council in.
She walked through the halls until she found Twilight’s room.
Once inside, she closed the door. She was alone. Far from the eyes of the subjects who worshipped her. Far from the ponies and dragon that needed her to be strong.
As she walked to the bed, her regalia fell off, piece by piece. Even her crown fell haphazardly, rolling across the floor.
She collapsed on the bed.
And she wailed. Her sobs would have carried across Equestria if not for the shield. She cried, and cried, and cried.
A hand on her. She snapped up.
Discord.
“He said no,” he said flatly.
At that moment, it didn’t matter that she had faced Discord and seen him do horrible things. Her forelegs went around him, her face burying into his chest. His arms went around her.
“She’s gone. She’s gone! Oh, Twilight! My shining star! Oh Twilight...”
The Spirit of Chaos and the Princess of the Sun held each other throughout that first painful night.