Twilight frantically read and reread the pile of notes she had written over the past months. Over and over she read the numbers and theories she had come up with, but still she couldn’t find any answers. All the notes explained to her were how she had come up with her experiments, but they never explained why. But Twilight knew that she had written it down somewhere, she certainly wouldn’t have done the things she had done without explanation, there had to be a why.

Behind her, Pinkie Pie moaned on her bed. Twilight put the notes she was reading down and went to her friend’s aid. She had managed to undo some of the effects her experiment had on Pinkie, fixing up some internal organs and molding some bones back into their proper shape. But it wasn’t enough. There was nothing Twilight could do to fix Pinkie’s eye, the warts seemed to pop up faster than Twilight could remove them, and she still couldn’t speak, either because she was unable to, or she simply wouldn’t.

“Hey Pinkie, are you hungry?” Twilight asked softly.

Pinkie’s working eye opened then looked at Twilight with something that until a few months ago she would’ve thought her friend incapable of, fear and hatred.

Twilight gave her a small smile and continued, “I’ve got some apple tarts and cider, if you want any.”

Pinkie looked away from Twilight and gave a defiant grunt. Her stomach betrayed her though, when it grumbled loudly enough for Twilight to hear it. Smiling, Twilight gave her friend a gentle hug, and turned to fetch the food from her cabinet.

On her way she passed Spike, who was sitting between a shelf and a filing cabinet, staring down at one of the comic books she had gotten for him. He hadn’t moved much in the time since Twilight had experimented on him, barely eating any food and only drinking once every few days.

Twilight often tried to talk to him, bringing up how Rarity was doing or asking him what he thought about the comic books she got him. She hoped that by getting him to talk about things that interested him she could stimulate his mind into bringing back the little dragon that used to be her best friend. The one she had torn up and thrown away. It was no use though, something about the experiment had taken something from Spike, and her number one assistant was no more.

After giving Spike a long, sorrowful look, Twilight sighed and returned to getting Pinkie’s food. She selected one of the apple tarts she and Summerfree had baked earlier that day, along with a bottle of homebrewed cider. She broke the apple tart into small, bite sized pieces, and poured the cider into a baby bottle.

When she returned to Pinkie’s side, Twilight slowly fed her friend the bits of apple tart. At first, Twilight had to magically force Pinkie to open her mouth and chew, but after a few bites she began act on her own. Twilight hoped that this was a sign that Pinkie’s condition was getting better, but it was too little for her to know for sure and might very well have been wishful thinking.

“Did you like it?” Twilight asked.

Pinkie didn’t answer. Twilight sighed and gave her the bottle of cider to wash down the apple tart. Pinkie obediently bit down on the bottle, and allowed the liquid to drain into her mouth. When she was finished, Twilight took the empty bottle away and dabbed Pinkie’s mouth with a napkin.

“You know, Rainbow Dash’s birthday is coming up,” Twilight said, “It’s been a while since you’ve thrown a party. Maybe, if you’re up to it, we can go out and throw her a surprise party? I’m sure the girls would love to see you again.”

Pinkie’s eye momentarily watered up, then quickly returned to its vacant stare. Twilight had talked about getting her out of the workshop before, and she had long since learned not to put any faith into the promises. Twilight hadn’t meant any ill will with her promises; she only wanted to give her friend hope. Instead, she held out a treat and then took it away. It was cruel, and Twilight knew it, but she felt that she had to give Pinkie something to cling to.

Sighing, returned to her notes. This time she pulled out the results of the blood test she had done on herself the previous day. She scanned the list of chemicals and tried to discern any abnormalities that might explain her recent behavior. If her theory was correct, then it was likely that her abhorrent activities were the result of a disorder or disease. If that were the case, then Twilight could study the disorder and cure herself.

After several minutes of reading and rereading the results telling her that she was perfectly healthy, Twilight discarded the scrap of paper. It had been a stupid idea anyway. She took another look at Pinkie, who was lying on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Sighing, Twilight lifted up the mess of notes that she had thrown about her workshop and with a practiced horn reorganized them into their proper place.

Deciding to call it a day, Twilight got out two blanket blankets and wrapped them around her friends. She took a moment to make sure that Pinkie’s pillow was fluffed and to turn on a small heater for Spike. Twilight wasn’t sure if they even noticed the effort, but she still wanted to make them both as comfortable as she could.

After tucking them in, Twilight made her way to the shower and turned it on cold. As the water washed over her, she closed her eyes and imagined that it was cleansing her of her past deeds, and that when she stepped out both Spike and Pinkie were back to their old selves, and willing to forgive her.

After a few minutes, Twilight got out of the shower and began drying herself off. She was just about ready to climb up the ladder to rejoin her family, when a hoarse voice croaked from across the room, “Twi-light?”

Twilight’s heart skipped a beat. “Hello?” She asked. She looked around the workshop to see if any pony had snuck in while she was n the shower, but everything seemed to be just as she left it.

“Twi-light,” the voice croaked again. This time Twilight was able to figure out where it had come from. She almost didn’t believe it. It had been months, and in all that time all she heard was silence.

“Spike?” Twilight asked.

“Twi-light,” Spike replied.

Twilight slowly approached the small dragon, taking careful note of what his body was doing. He hadn’t changed position, and his limbs were stiff.

“Spike, are you alright?” Twilight asked, “How do you feel?”

He looked up at her with an emotionless expression. His robotic eyes stared at her unblinkingly. “Twi-light,” he said, “why?”