A/N: Chapter Two! Thanks so uch for the support, Twi! I really only have the most basic idea of where I' going with this...but I hope that it turns into a fun read for everyone!

The thing about moments is that you blink and they vanish.

That is, at least, the case with this moment. In a rush of motion, the world comes back to life. Birds rush from where they had been hiding. A last flare of magic, dark and violant, lashes out and slams into the wall of a nearby building. It cracks and crumbles beneath the onslaught of pure power, as so many of the other houses and stores have. Wind howls and rages and the heart of a young dragon does exactly the same.

You see, dragon's are a funny sort of creature; they have secrets that they aren't even aware of. This is especially true for the young ones, the babes, the children grown with no one around who is exactly like them.

Spike stands there and he is lost.

Trixie's laughter becomes one with the wind, a twisted and haunting sound. Her tail swishes and the light of the moon glints from her horn, from Twilight's horn, from a crack that runs through alabastor and pierces magic and ruins lives.

"Twilight," shouts Spike, as the unicorn mare crumples to the ground. Her eyes stare straight ahead, wide and unseeing and far, far too dull. "Twilight, get up! Get up!"

She doesn't and Trixie pauses, just for a moment. Her brows furrow like she isn't fully sure what's just happened and she takes a step forward, just one, but one is all that it takes. Spike is back in a world of motion, you see, and he spins around to face the blue mare.

Spike bares his teeth at Trixie and he is lost.

"Don't," he warns, with all the feroucity that a baby dragon can give. His growl is swallowed by the night and Twilight stays still and Trixie stares, stares, stares - turns on her hooves and leaves.

-x-x-x-x-

Getting Twilight up isn't easy.

Spike doesn't understand it, not really. He knows what's wrong, but only in the form of a pulsing, pounding, throbbing voice in the back of his mind that tells him this is wrong in every way.

"Up," he tells Twilight, again and again, until his voice and the voice in his mind becomes one and the same.

She doesn't rise

doesn't rise

doesn't even look at him. And so Spike wraps his arms around her neck, tight as he can, and lets himself burst into flames.

Letters, Spike can control. But not this. He's never done it before, you see, didn't even know it was possible. The green flames flicker over his body and hers for a long moment. Colors blend and merge and the world spins, faster, faster, faster, only to right itself as quickly as it went wrong.

And there they are, in the Golden Oaks Library. Sulfur is heavy in the air and the floor around them is singed, yet Twilight is untouched. Her eyes somehow manage to look glossy and dull all at once, legs buckling beneath her again. The polish is fading from her coat and the crack in her horn is turning black.

Spike holds tight to her neck and he is lost.

-x-x-x-x-

Come morning, the entire town is talking. The square is in ruins and so are a few of the nearby houses. There are burns on the road and a peculiar tang in the air that can only be described as dark, as bitter, as something not entirely normal.

It's a dark sort of magic that will never completely fade, no matter how much time passes. They don't know this now, of course, and so ponies are scrubbing at the streets and trying to fix the damage that's been done and Rarity stands off to the side and watches them with a frown because, for some reason, this entire area feels like Twilight Sparkle.

More importantly, she watches as Spike walks from spot to spot, pacing and racing, so frantic that it hurts. He's lifting this piece of rock and that piece of rubble, acting for all the world like he's searching for the secret to the universe. Like if he can just look hard enough then it will be there.

But what, exactly, is he looking for?

"Spike," calls Rarity, moving to trot across the street. She has to duck around another pony, a tall thing with a pelt that clashes horribly with his hair, and by the time that she can see the other side of the road again, he's lost.

-x-x-x-x-

It's noon when there's a knock on the door. Spike is wound so tight that the noise makes him jump. His heart is pounding in his throat, his blood rushing through his veins, and all the walls are pressing in.

This is wrong, he thinks, this isn't where I should be, where we should be, we need to leave.

But it isn't like Spike can move Twilight on his own and so he opens up the front door. There's no smile on his face when he greets Rarity and he doesn't let the other unicorn in.

"What's wrong?" she asks, voice softer than it's been in a long time.

"Everything," answers Spike, because no other response will do. And, after a moment, he lets Rarity into the library.

It doesn't take long for Rarity to spot Twilight. In fact, she's drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. Hovers over the prone mare like a mother would her foal, all wide eyes and fearful gaze. "What happened to her?"

Anger curls beneath Spike's skin. It simmers there, like acid, trying to eat its way through and out. He pads over to Twilight and brushes her forlock from her eyes, which are closed now, in what he thinks must be sleep.

"Everything," he spits out, and the word is sour on his tongue. He draws in a deep breath and then another, bracing himself for an answer that actually helps too explain.

It turns out, Spike doesn't have too. Rarity can spy the cracks in her horn (black now, tainted, spreading with each passing tock of the clock) just fine.

"Mother Mare," she breaths, and it's as though those two words steal away all of her strength. Rarity sags under the weight of her own body, sinking down onto all fours beside her friend. "Her horn! Spike - her horn!"

"It was Trixie," he hisses, and Rarity's eyes are solely on him. There has never been such hatred in the dragons voice before - but what needs to be understood is that Twilight is more than a companion. She is his friend, his sister, his mother, his world.

Without her, he is lost.

Anger bleeds into misery, so deep rooted that Spike fears he will never be happy again. Outside, life continues as though nothing ever happened.