It’s 2:34 am, and Twilight can’t sleep. She knows this because she has been staring at the glowing, neon digits on the bedside clock for a solid ten minutes. She has been willing the numbers forward with her mind, but she hasn’t had much luck. Time is determined to pass at a constant, achingly slow speed.

But Twilight doesn’t want to close her eyes, because she can still see the darkness behind her eyelids. She can still feel her heartbeat thudding restlessly in her chest, can still hear the perpetual buzz of her thoughts in her head. She rolls over on to her side.

She is tired. It’s more than that, though, and if Twilight had a thesaurus she would point out the exact words needed to explain the heaviness of her bones and the weight at her temple. But she’s far too tired for that.

Twilight hisses out a breath between her teeth, letting her gaze fall across each of the girls spread out on the floor. She has an advantage point as the only one on a bed. Applejack is the closest to the door, and lies propped up against the frame with her hat tugged over her face. Rarity, who had started out quite put-together and reservered, has her cheeks squished against Applejack’s thigh, with the rest of her body spread out like a rag doll. She snores in her sleep. Rainbow Dash, in the corner, seems to have gotten into a wrestling match with her sleeping bag, and her pillow is by her feet. Fluttershy is a straight, dark shape at her side. Sunset lies in the center of the room on her back, making the occasional horse-sounding noise. Twilight supposes that, if she had the time and desire, she could write a piece on exactly how sleeping positions characterize certain people.

Twilight pauses in her jumbled musings. She scans across the dark room again. She’s missing— “Hey.” Twilight stops breathing for a second, going absolutely still. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake. She leans over the edge of the mattress with her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

Pinkie looks up at her with half-lidded eyes from where she is tucked up against the side of the bed. “Twi,” she whispers, and Twilight blinks.

“Yes?” She wants to ask Pinkie Pie why she’s awake, and why she’s breaking the thick quietness. But Twilight wouldn’t want Pinkie to ask the same of her.

Pinkie wriggles violently on the floor and manages to get herself out of what appears to be a cocoon of blankets. “Can I sleep with you?”

Twilight doesn’t answer, to busy swallowing away confusion and exhaustion—and hope? Pinkie takes her silence for an answer, and clambers over Twilight to the other side of the bed. She, with a great deal of huffing and groaning, settles under the sheets, and suddenly, there is a wonderful solid and warm form along Twilight.

Pinkie snuggles further in the pillow, her legs curling up around Twilight’s. “I had a bad dream,” she whispers, tucking her face in Twilight’s neck. Curly hair dances in front of Twilight’s vision.

Twilight waits until she hears Pinkie’s breathing even out, before she releases her tension and melts. A wave crashes over her, and it’s safe and good and warm. She sinks into the pillow that now smells of vanilla.

Just as she’s drifting off, Pinkie mumbles, “My dream was that you couldn’t sleep,” and Twilight smiles.

Next Chapter: Applejack and Rarity Estimated time remaining: 7 Minutes