Kyle Marshal squeezed his temples, briefly wondering if he should ask one of the doctors for some kind of anti-stress drug. The harsh lights of the hospital room shined down on Twilight's unconscious body. Her chest rose and feel softly and at an alarmingly slow rate, but she was otherwise completely motionless. A passerby could easily mistake her for a corpse.

Three days with absolutely no sign of stirring. She wasn't braindead, but her brain activity wasn't exactly encouraging either. The most disturbing thing was the area directly below her horn, which was completely devoid of activity.

Next to Kyle, Acone stroked his chin. The man spent far more time in the room than he did, just watching her sleep. Hell, the only times he really left were to eat or sleep himself, and most days his wife just brought him a meatball sub that he ate in the cafeteria. Strangely, he didn't even seem that stressed. It was some other emotion—probably a far worse one.

"Jesus, Kyle," he spoke. "Three days. Three damn days."

"It's not exactly encouraging," Kyle muttered, sitting down in one of the shitty plastic chairs that always seemed to be in the corner of hospital rooms. "Hopefully she'll start getting better soon. The President doesn't want to give his speech without her by his side."

"But what if she—" Acone started, before shutting his mouth.

"She will. Hell, the doctors said Chrysalis was making an astoundingly fast recovery," Kyle said. "I'm sure she just needs a bit of time."

Acone tilted his head towards Kyle. "Astoundingly? Just how fast is—"

"Oh, thank the gods," Chrysalis shouted, opening the door hard enough to press the attached bumper a few inches into its drywall. "She yet lives."

"Pretty fast," Acone muttered, answering his own question. "Aren't you supposed to be laying in bed with a giant hole in your head?"

"A cocoon, and I got better," Chrysalis replied, waving a hoof. "My magical levels are unusually high at the moment."

The changeling took two steps, standing directly at the side of Twilight's bed. She pressed an ear to her chest.

"Hm. Heartrate is quite low," she muttered. "Body still warm, though, so—"

"Oh no!" Acone shouted, standing up. "None of that shit!"

Marshal reached out and attempted to grab Acone, but the Italian was already next to Chrysalis. Dammit, for a fat guy he sure could move fast when he needed to.

"What? I merely—"

"No, no!" Acone shouted. "No weird creepy perv stuff. For Christ's sake, she got in this state saving your life. At least have a little respect!"

Chrysalis blinked once, then remembered who she was.

"I am not a pervert, child," Chrysalis snapped, with (thankfully metaphorical) venom. "In this particular instance, at least. You and your kind are ignorant of magical medicine, leaving me to be possibly the only creature who can help Twilight. I am merely attempting to—"

"Attempting to what?" Acone snapped back. "Last I checked you were some kinda evil bug, not a fucking doctor!"

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. Normally the tone she used was enough to send ponies scattering, but this creature...

"I am not a doctor," Chrysalis said, trying to level her tone. "But I am a gifted warlock, as are all Changeling queens. Twilight exhausted herself performing magic. It stands to reason that I may be able to help her."

Acone squinted, then shuffled back into his chair. "Normally I'd say no, but we're kinda desperate here. Go ahead. But don't be using this as an opportunity to cop a feel, ok?"

Chrysalis rolled her eyes, horn lighting up.

Kyle leaned over to Acone, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Any reason why we're letting her run loose?"

"She has a bigger crush on Twilight than I used to have on Mary-Ann," Acone muttered back. "Don't think she'd do anything to hurt her."

"Is it really that obvious?" Chrysalis asked, face suddenly falling.

Kyle groaned. As much as he wanted to blame some kind of super-advanced Changeling hearing, Acone's whispers were about as loud as most people's normal speech.

"Hey, I ain't judging," Acone said. "I gotta a sister who's a lesbian. Looks kinda like you, too. Except with shorter hair, though. Poor girl."

Acone blinked. "You know, come to think it, my sister-in-law does dye her hair purple..."

Kyle coughed, which was thankfully enough to stop Acone's train of thought.

Chrysalis sighed and focused her magic, hitting Twilight square in the forehead. "Let's see..."

The Changeling froze. "Oh... oh no."

Acone and Kyle shared a look. Acone spoke: "What?"

"She... She burnt herself out," Chrysalis whispered. "Too many spells, too short of a time."

"So?" Acone asked, getting up again. "Can you fix it?"

"I—the only way to fix it is to recharge her," Chrysalis stuttered. "Fill her back up with magic. But she's a unicorn, and I'm—I'm not."

"So? There's gotta be some kind of conversion," Acone said. "I mean, shit, I can buy adapters to make my laptop work in Europe. Can't you do something similar?"

Chrysalis shook her head. "Nothing. It's... They're incompatible."

"Well... there's gotta be something you can do!" Acone shouted.

"There... Let me think."

Chrysalis sat down, resting her head on a hoof. As far as she knew, there wasn't a conversion. But maybe there was some kind of loophole. Twilight had obviously found one. Forcing a stack overflow—that was genius, pure and simple. Genius that she had to repay somehow. But there just... there wasn't anything! Changeling magic and unicorn magic were simply incompatible. If Twilight was a changeling, this would be easy, but—

Chrysalis' head shot up as visions of cocoons and captive ponies flew into the forefront of her mind.

"What?" Acone asked. "You got something?"

"I do," Chrysalis said, shaking her head. "But... You're not gonna like it."

Author's Note

Trying to get into a more concrete update schedule. I've been writing this for far too long already.