At that point, Icy kneeled down and leaned in towards Bloom's ear, speaking softly. She spoke one sentence that sent Bloom over the edge. Five words that broke her fragile hold on herself.

"He doesn't love you anymore."

Bloom couldn't see. She didn't see as the witches circled her limp body and laughed. She didn't see as Sky turned away, his hands covering the tears that escaped the hold he had on himself. Bloom didn't see the dark and sinister looks that all three witches wore when they stared hungrily at her prone body.

She was too lost in her own desperation to feel when they floated her up, Bloom's spasms moving her even in the air.

It was only as they let go, and her body started to plummet towards the ground that her survival instincts kicked in. Years of evolution had not changed, her heartbreak had not affected this deeply. Humans and Pixies alike, all beings, were programmed on a basic level to survive.

It wasn't a conscious decision to change into her pixie form. It wasn't a choice to flutter her wings and bring her home. In fact, she was barely aware of what was happening as her shuddering body floated back to Alfea.

It was dawn when the rest of the Winx Club found her. Her exhausted body lay broken on the front steps, her arms and legs twisted into unnatural and uncomfortable positions from where her powers had worn out and her tired wings had deposited her.

"Oh Bloom…" Stella whispered, as the four girls paused a moment before running forwards and around their friend.

"Bloom, please wake up," Flora pleaded, her eyes filled to the brim with nothing but worry. Unbeknownst to her, it was the same look that she wore when she saw a plant beyond hope of revival. Subconciously, she was thinking, as were the others, that Bloom was beyond hope.

They picked her up gently, carrying her slowly and painfully to the infirmary. Each and everyone of them was praying to whoever they could think of, asking for Bloom's recovery.

The other students in the hallways in this early hour, going to breakfast, coming from the showers, were all silent as they watched what seemed to be a funeral procession. Bloom was still dressed in black, accented with dirt and scratched from her trek overnight. The other four girls, each taking a corner of Bloom's body, were also wearing black, in what had been a tribute to Bloom's heart ache. Now, in retrospect, it seems like forewarning of this event. All four of them were crying.

They were a handful of meters from the nurse's room when Bloom shifted every so slightly. Flora, Techna, Stella and Musa all stopped at once, pausing mid-stride and mid-mutter as they turned to look at their friend's pale face. They carefully lowered her to the floor, none of them breathing as the sunlight started to spill through the window and illuminate Bloom's tired body.

With a sigh, Bloom opened her eyes and started to sit up. All four of her friends rushed to assist her, helping and holding her. She leaned against Stella, her red hair mingling with Stella's undone blonde, mixing on the cool tile floor. Both Musa and Flora held a hand each, their warm ones against Bloom's cool ones. Techna sat beside Stella, her face concerned as she typed rapidly into a palm-sized computer. She was desperately trying to help the only way she knew; to look it up and find the answer on the inter-universal information system.

To Techna's dismay, she didn't find anything. To her utter horror, just after she had given up, she came across one, only one, reference. It was a diary entry, and it did not look good.

Dear Diary;

It's been four days, and she has yet to recover. She is listless, pale and thin. I feel as if she is wasting away. She does not eat, nor drink, she even refuses to speak. I do not like this. There is no logical reason. Scientifically, she is as healthy as anyone could want. Her blood is vine, her systems, her magic. All fine!

It is mentally where this pixie cries out in pain. Ever since she was refused, she refuses. The only thing she says is his name, over and over. Her face is etched in constant pain, and her once peaceful demeanor and tranquil manner became abusive and harmful.

Now, however, it is worse. She does not move and she wastes away.

She will not last unless I can find a cure.


Techna searched even harder after that, looking for the next entry, to see if the unknown writer had found a cure, what had happened to her friend. The entry was dated a hundred years ago, and there was nothing before or after that, apparently having been lost in a hard drive failure. All other entries were too corrupted.

Bloom was muttering something quietly, Techna leaned in and listened, suspecting the worst. And that is what she found.

"Sky… Sky…. Sky…" Bloom was muttering, again and again.

It was then that Techna broke down, the tears that were escaping broke, the dam came down. They flooded her face, plains of pale skin drowning in the salty water. She didn't know what to do.

"Techna…?" She heard, whispered. Glancing up, she saw Bloom's concerned face. "It's alright Techna… I'll be okay." Tears were falling down Bloom's face as well as Techna's, and soon all of the Winx Club was crying together.

But now, the note of desperation in their tears was replaced with relief and hope for Bloom's recovery.