Though Spike was relieved to finally see Celestia and Twilight again after what felt like an eternity, he couldn't help but feel worried anyway. They had all the means to get rid of the homicidal pink lunatic, but they still had no way to use it against her effectively. From what they told at dinner, the one time they tried proved fruitless.

Lying down while they continued to plunge ahead into the night brought a twinge of guilt as he slowly closed his eyes. He should help them – he had to help them! It was only the right thing to do!

And yet, everything he tried to do to keep going failed. As usual, Twilight's suggestion to get some rest was probably correct. He was still young, and hopefully he'd be able to get old some day. Only a moment passed after the little dragon had laid his head on his pillow before he fell asleep.

Any questions he had about growing old jumped to the forefront of his mind just as quickly.

"Spike!"

He snapped up in a second. His mind hadn't had enough time to wander and he saw himself still sitting in the library. Frantically, he searched for the source of the furious voice he had come to dread. It was an unmistakeable one.

The world echoed again. "Spike!"

The dragon tumbled out of bed, slamming his shoulder into the floor. He clawed his way back to his feet, wheezing in terror. His heart began to beat like a drum. He could feel every muscle in his small body tightening up as he slowly turned around, hoping beyond hope that it was simply his imagination running wild.

His gaze came across the window just above Twilight's bed when it suddenly blew open with a freezing gust that bit at his scales. Through the pitch black outside, a pair of hate-filled blue eyes emerged. Their pink owner glided into the bedroom and set herself down gently on the wood floors, the window slamming shut as she landed. Spike's own pupils became pinpricks as his terrifying reality set in.

He tried to move his feet, to make a break for it, regardless of how futile it may prove to be. But he was glued to the floor. Pinkie coldly stared down her target as she approached.

"You just had to do it, didn't you?" she asked as she broke off a piece of her flat mane and straightened it into a makeshift blade.

"Wh-what are you t-talking about?"

"Don't play games with me, Spike! I've had a busy yet unproductive night tonight. I tell you that I'm going to guilt-trip Twilight into giving herself to me, and then suddenly, I can't seem to finish anypony off. Aside from Twilight and the Princess, who else would know how to get away from me, hm?"

Pinkie jabbed her snout into his as she ranted, knocking the baby dragon onto his back.

"You told them! You told them how to get away from me if I showed up! And after all I did for you, like letting you live," she growled, grabbing his head and poking at his neck with her dagger. "Look at it this way, kiddo. You'll get to see your precious Wawity again. Won't that be nice?"

Just as she was about to strike and end his short life, Spike shouted out in a panic, "It was Private Eye! Private Eye!"

It was enough for the killer to pause. Though she had no reason to believe him, she did know everypony in Ponyville, including the detective. Curious, she raised an eyebrow and slackened her grip on the weapon. "Private Eye? What's he got to do with anything?"

"He-he's been the one investigating things ever since what happened to Applejack! I helped him and the Princess keep in touch about all this while she and Twilight were away! He's the one who came up with idea, not me, I swear to you!"

With an icy glare, she considered what the shaking dragon told her. It did make a bit of sense. He was a cop, and if he was the most involved with her victims, particularly the former Elements, then it's understandable that he'd wish to keep in touch with the Princess, especially if she was guarding Twilight. Besides, the citizenry would be more likely to listen to an officer of the law about something so serious rather than an immature dragon that was known to occasionally blow things out of proportion.

"Y'know, kiddo? I believe you, I really do." Her sudden, strangely calm demeanor quickly evaporated. "But, that still means you helped him out."

Without a second thought, Pinkie drove her mane-made blade into Spike's soft neck.

In his bed, the little dragon clawed at his new wound and struggled against his unseen assailant. His strangled, bloodied gasps for life and the relentless creaks of his wicker basket caught Twilight's attention downstairs and for a moment, she felt her heart stop. A final, sickening gurgle set off alarms in her head. The book she was reading fell to the floor with a thud as she raced upstairs.

From the far room, the Princess' ear swiveled when she heard the frantic clopping of hooves on the floor. She trotted into the lobby to see Twilight's tail disappear from sight as she galloped the top of the staircase. "Twilight?"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Private Eye paced behind the suspect as he sat at the table in the interrogation room. The cocky scumbag knew where the drugs came from, and it was only a matter of time when he'd spill the beans, one way or another. The detective felt like he had asked the same three questions repeatedly for what must have been an eternity and it was getting him nowhere. Despite being in a similar situation more times than he can count, something just felt...off.

Sick of wasting time with the despicable pegasus, Private Eye lunged for the winged pony's neck and picked him up out of his chair, violently kicking it to into the corner. The look he shot the criminal could have killed him.

"You're going to tell me where you got the stuff and you're gonna tell me now! Do you hear me?! I'm sick of wasting my time with you!"

"Alright, alright, fine! You got me. I'll tell you who gave them to me," the suspect sneered. He pointed at the one-way mirror by the entrance of the room. "They're right over there."

The officer turned his head at the reflection, not quite sure what he was supposed to see. He gasped when he found himself standing there holding Pinkie Pie in his hooves, smiling at him.

A quick shot to the gut followed by a hard uppercut knocked the detective to the ground. The murderer flew into a rage and launched herself at Private Eye, but he quickly blocked her with a hind hoof, shoving her away and against the wall. He got to his hooves and blocked another incoming right hook, countering with a fast jab to the snout.

With lightning fast speed, he grabbed her by one of her haunches as well as her throat. His hatred for Pinkie over what she had done came to a boil. He growled, letting loose his fury, picked her up into the air and slammed her head into the table, splitting it in two.

"You picked the wrong pony to come after, you maniac!" he spat.

The stunned mare could only laugh at his efforts. "Ohhh, this is going to be fun! I haven't had anypony stand up to me like this in a while!"

A quick buck to the shin brought Private Eye to his knee. "Agh!"

With a smirk, Pinkie spun and got back up. She grabbed the hardened cop by the shoulders. He grabbed onto hers, battling for control, but his injured leg gave her just enough leverage. Using his bad leg as a launching pad, she swung her body around and took his with her, tossing him through the mirror like a rag doll.

"Come on, come on! Wake up, dammit!"

His wife shook him as hard as she could as he laid in bed when suddenly Private Eye was rocketed through the air and slammed into the wall of their room. If he was conscious, he would have felt two of his ribs crack, though the hard landing on the floor would have knocked him out as well.

Pinkie walked through the wall of the interrogation room and snatched the detective up by the throat. "One question," he hissed, spitting blood. "What finally tipped you off?"

She answered with a depraved smile that made his skin crawl. "Spike. Hope you two shared a special moment or something at some point."

"Huh?"

"Let's just say he won't be sending any more letters."

As her response sunk in, he became lost in his anger. Seething, he grabbed Pinkie Pie's skull and struck her with a vicious headbutt, causing her to drop him.

"You witch! He was just a kid!"

"Everypony dies, bucko. You of all ponies should know that."

"Nnnngh!"

He galloped full speed at the evil mare and tackled her to the floor, throttling Pinkie with one livid punch after another. She took every one without missing a beat and caught his muzzle with a swing of her own. As he stumbled back, Pinkie stood up, turned around and bucked him in the chest, knocking most of the wind out of him and sending him careening into the lobby of his nocturnal police station.

Private Eye's slumbering body was thrown across the room as he continued to fight in the dream. When he came to a stop, his wife, thinking quickly, darted around to her side of the bed where a lantern sat. She snatched the glass piece from its stand and shattered it against the night stand.

The detective did wake Spike not long ago by sticking him with a letter opener, but there was no time to run and grab one from his office down the hall. Plus, there was no telling what may happen if she left him alone, even for a second.

Quickly surveying the damage, she spotted a larger shard of glass and took it with her to her struggling husband. She approached carefully, not wanting to accidentally injure herself or him in the process. A sudden swing of his forelimb made her jump back and steady herself for a better opportunity.

While his wife fought against the clock, Private Eye and Pinkie continued to brawl. They found themselves twisting and spinning around in each other's grip, banging into nearly everything in the way. As they made their way to one of the desks in the dark station, Private Eye had slid a leg between hers and kicked one out from under her. She fell and smashed her eye square into the corner, black bile seeping out instead of blood.

"Gah! Mmmph, that smarts! Not bad – oof!"

The cop jumped onto the mare's back, cutting off her unneeded mockery. As Pinkie tried to buck her foe off, she took a moment to rub her eye, restoring it to its normal state. Despite deep down knowing she could dispose of Private Eye at any time, she continued to struggle against him. The fight was a rush she hadn't felt quite some time, so what harm was there in dragging it out a bit?

She reached back but couldn't quite get a hold of him. Each time she tried to smash the back of her head into his muzzle, he dodged out of the way, usually getting a mouthful of mane for his trouble. All she seemed to receive for her trouble was another punch in the jaw.

Sick of the attacks, Pinkie drove an elbow into his side as hard as she could, sending him sliding off her. Still, he refused to let the bits of her mane loose from his teeth and caused her to twist her neck awkwardly.

Private Eye's wife finally saw a chance. He laid on the floor, a limb reaching out for empty air. Using her earth pony strength, she held down her husband by his stomach and quickly jabbed at his hindquarters with the glass, being careful not to drive it in too deep.

He howled in pain as he woke from his nightmare, several pink strands of hair flying from his mouth. He collapsed his limbs onto the floor and saw his wife sitting over him, scared half to death that either she or Pinkie had hurt him. Once he caught his breath, he sat up, rubbing his aching head.

"You okay?" his mare asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Pinkie's revelation found its way into his mind and a somber ache crept into the pit of his stomach. "Spike..."

"What about him?"

He didn't want to believe it, but Pinkie hadn't lied to them yet; every single time, she had kept her word. There was no reason for him to think it was any different now. The detective's hanging head told his wife everything.

"No..."

She sobbed into a hoof and let the tears come. Spike had become a welcome addition to their home, a reliable friend, even if it was to only be for a short while. Now, all that was left was a memory.

As he gazed sadly at his distraught wife, he spied something strange on the carpet as well as on one of his legs: long, straight strands of hair – pink ones. There was only one pony they could belong to. He replayed the last few moments of his fight in his mind, trying to piece together how in the world they could suddenly be here. With a gasp, the answer came to him. One by one, he seized the hairs and ran like a bullet for the bedroom door.

"Wh-where are you going?" she asked through her tears.

"To the library!"

"What?"

"To Twilight and Celestia!"