Suicide.

Many say that suicide is the way of cowardice. Others say it is the way of bravery and honor. Suicide is believed to be the end to all suffering for some people. However, there isn't a universal conclusion to what it truly is. On the surface, it is just ending one's own life. Methods, causes or reasons don't matter, and the only thing left is a lifeless body.

Throughout centuries, suicide was considered to be a sin in many cultures, an act that must never be carried out or even thought of. Those who committed such an atrocity would be buried outside of tended graveyards, sometimes leaving the graves unnamed and forgotten, not even caring to place a tombstone or a simple wooden plank.

Those that feel they want to die rarely talk to others about it, afraid of shame and discomfort it would likely bring. How many times were people accused of leaving behind their families and friends? How many times are those suicidal people told to suck it up and go on? Either they aren't treated seriously or the other way around to the point of drugging those people and locking them up, forcing them to continue living.

It doesn't help, it will never help. Blame is often put on the victims and rarely anyone is willing to look further and provide necessary help they long for so desperately.

People kill themselves for many reasons. Some do it because they've lost their significant others, be they family or friends. Others do it to save their own honor and the honor of those they care about. In truth, many such acts have nothing in common. All people are unique, each person with their own problems of different meaning and significance even to themselves. Some are willing to commit suicide because of simplest or general things that others would accept and move on.

There are people who are afraid of doing it. Others welcome it as their salvation.

There is a special kind of people, the most rare one. They fought during their whole life, desperate to exist, crawling out of the pits they found themselves in. But later, with no release, no meaning, no goal, losing everything over and over again or just suffering a great loss they can't handle, they realize that the struggle is futile. They give chances to life again and again only to fail just as often if not always. Whether they are to blame or others doesn't matter. Finding truth in mind is impossible, for there is no truth to be found. There are as many thoughts, opinions, experiences as there are people, and what people do best is disagreeing with each-other, often even with themselves.

Even the strongest can fall and lose all their will to continue living. There is no purpose but to survive and procreate, and if you can't build your own goal and try to reach it, you will be disappointed in life. And even if you do try, obstacles are waiting in your path, no matter what you try to make it. They hinder your progress, disrupt the process, mess with you. Sometimes, you trip over too many of them and you are no longer willing to get up. You feel defeated, scared and alone. You feel that the whole world wants you dead, and even you believe that you must die.

At that point, only others can help you. You can only hope that someone won't dismiss your desperate cry of help.

Otherwise, you're as good as dead.

Iclyn and Anastasia were both at the mansion, thinking about Sirius and the recent events that occurred to him and themselves. Neither of them knew what drew him to his second suicide, the one he barely missed. It was a huge relief but a giant worry as well. Princess Luna refused to talk about it and seemingly disappeared, leaving the two in the dark about him. They weren't allowed to see him until everything was complete, and it could be anytime from a few hours to weeks. The two chose not to think of worse options.

It was just a day since the fateful duel but the girls were already feeling terrible. They were hit very hard by it and neither could find rest. The only comfort they could find was in each-other. While Anastasia could hardly speak, she understood words fairly well. They talked about various things, but it was mostly about Sirius.

"He was, uh... like that always." the girl said, stuttering. She wasn't looking at Iclyn, her ears were slightly down, and a small frown was present on her face. "Not social, alone, and, um... Yeah..."

"But he didn't want to die, did he?" Iclyn inclined as she tried to find out the truth about Sirius, things that he didn't talk about even to her.

"...I don't know." Anastasia sighed deeply, her ears drooping completely. "He is, um, was always strong. I, um... not know what, uh, happened to him. We n-not met for... two year."

Two years. Many a thing could have happened during that time. People change, countries change, even planets change. Sixty seconds is a minute, minutes unite to make hours, hours build days, days make up months, and then years are created. Even a second of life is significant, no matter how small it may seem at the beginning. Every single second has something connected to it. A word, an action, something is always present when you look at it closely.

Don't be fooled by second's meager and seemingly meaningless appearance, for a second is the basis for the time as a whole. Even a thousandth part of it matters, and many processes take even less time than that.

Two years are more than enough to change everything, including lives.

An uncomfortable and unnerving silence fell upon the two girls. Neither of them knew what to add or respond with. However, they both could agree on one thing — they needed to visit Sirius.

Maybe he woke up and was waiting for them.

Iclyn and Anastasia travelled to the hospital and were discreetly let in. It was a private hospital on Canterlot Castle grounds, hidden away from prying eyes. It was the very same hospital Sirius had been in after the Changeling Invasion. Seeing it again was very painful to Iclyn. She remembered how long she had to wait until her lover woke up and she didn't want the same thing to happen again.

The guards guided them to Sirius' room. Neither of the two could wait to see in what state he was. Without a word spoken, they understood what they wanted — they wanted him to be alive and well, waiting for them. They would hug him and tell him how much they cared about him, and he would accept it. Then they would help him live and have a better life, solve his issues and put them aside, accepting them as well. It almost sounded impossible but the girls believed they would be able to help him.

They entered the room. It strongly smelled of medicine and ozone, the only window in the room only slightly opened to let some air in. Sirius was lying on the hospital bed, breathing softly, comatose. His chest was wrapped in bandages, but otherwise everything looked fine. His eyes were closed and still as he slept, his chest unmoving as a breathing apparatus controlled his body, artificially pumping in oxygen and extracting carbon dioxide. One of his lungs was pierced through, and it would take time to make it work again.

Iclyn and Anastasia sat on opposite sides of Sirius. The pegasus filly sat to his right, and the girl took his left side. For a few moments, they just looked at him. Tentatively, Iclyn put her hoof against his chest. She feared he would crumble to dust if she put force into her gentle touch.

His heartbeat was faint and yet rhythmic and unceasing. His breath was soft and deep, but not peaceful. Beads of sweat could be seen on his forehead while it was only moderately warm inside the room.

Slowly, Iclyn moved her hoof from his chest to the forehead. As soon as she touched him, she felt cold. His body felt like he was on a brink of dying.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, leaning away from Sirius. She quickly went to search for the doctors, fearing the worst. Soon, she returned with a nurse in tow, pushing her into the room.

"Dear, what is wrong?" the nurse asked, her eyes going from the filly to Sirius and back.

"He is cold!" Iclyn replied loudly, her voice shaking.

The nurse immediately checked the vital signs of Sirius by using a scanning spell on him. She frowned slightly.

"He is alive but... something is very wrong." she concluded. "I will bring in the doctors, they will be of more help than me."

Iclyn nodded, not taking her eyes off of Sirius. The nurse disappeared as she exited the room, and the two girls were left alone. Both of them stared wide-eyed at the former human, not knowing what to do. Was he dying? Just what was happening?

"Sirius..." the pegasus sighed. "Just wake up, please. We're waiting for you."

A week had passed since then. Sirius remained in the hospital bed, his eyes closed and his breath steady. Visits from Iclyn and Anastasia never ceased. They sat at his sides, watching him, waiting for him to wake up. He didn't as much as twitch to acknowledge their presence. He remained still, almost like he died. And yet his heart was beating. It was faint, weak, but it was there and it didn't cease.

The girls could only hope that it would remain that way and become stronger. He had to wake up someday, right?

He was still colder than he should've been. The doctors found no explanation but suspected it could be so because of coma. Ponies very rarely fell in it and so some of the knowledge was forgotten, written down somewhere and hidden away as something useless.

Both Iclyn and Anastasia couldn't concentrate on their studies. It didn't affect their grades much but it definitely brought their attention to the lessons down. They were asked about Sirius and the two agreed to answer that he was seriously ill and couldn't visit school or even go out because of it. It was told that he was hospitalized as well, but his location wasn't revealed.

Thankfully, ponies accepted is as truth. No one else besides Iclyn and Anastasia knew Sirius as close as those two, after all. He remained a mystery to pretty much everyone, including Wave Rider. The colt was just a friend, maybe even less. He was unsure about the whole illness issue but decided to not ask any questions, seeing that the girls had a hard time talking about it as it was.

Wave Rider continued living at Sirius' mansion for a few more days until his father found him an apartment with a nice roommate. Not wanting to infringe on Sirius' hospitality longer than he needed to, the colt packed his belongings and left.

Both Iclyn and Anastasia wished him the best of luck, urging him to come by someday and have fun. They tried to stay positive even in the light of what had recently happened to Sirius.

At nights, Princess Luna observed the dreamscape as she usually did. However, her mind was occupied with one thing. She would often stop by Sirius' door and listen. She could hear pained moans and rustling of chains, which left her terrified. She wanted to enter and see if she could help but decided against it each time, knowing the consequences her actions could bring.

Until it was twelfth day since his suicide attempt, she didn't dare to even try to enter. But she saw that the door to his dreams started to disappear, and it greatly worried her. In fact, it horrified her. Such a thing occurred only on one occasion, and Luna wasn't happy to see it unfolding right before her very eyes. She was afraid she could do nothing but she could at least try.

She walked up to the door. It remained unchanged through time and still stood. A dark and heavy wooden door with strong and thick chains blocking it. The alicorn of night inhaled deeply and then gently nudged it.

Her heart skipped a big as everything became absolutely silent for a moment that lasted less than a second.

The door didn't budge but a loud scream of agonizing pain sounded from behind, muffled by the heavy wood that made up the door. The rustling became way louder, but soon everything turned into quiet cries.

Luna sighed, not knowing what to do. A lone tear rolled down her cheek and disappeared in the dreamscape.

Was it her fault?

Sirius was screaming, the chains that held him in place rattled as his body spasmed and agonized. Blood streamed out of his horrifying wounds, dripping into the black void and painting the iron of the chains red. His throat was hoarse and he coughed and wheezed, tears filling his eyes.

It seemed like months had passed. Was no one coming to save him? Was no one going to help him? He had little hope and even it began to disappear. The rattling stopped as strength and will left him. He let out a quiet and defeated sigh as his eyes closed. He was still alive, alive and suffering. He cried, bloody tears blurring his vision and rolling down his cheeks. No one was going to help him, no one wanted to comfort him.

Who needed him anyway?