The door opened with a creak.

Clenching his teeth, he peeked through the entrance, his eyes moving left to right, up and down, searching for the room’s occupant, silently hoping the door’s noise didn’t provoke her anger on the off chance that she was near the door.

Although, anger wasn't it. Annoying lecture was, probably, more accurate. He really didn’t want to hear one so early in the morning.

Stepping inside, he noticed the books covering the floor. A lump formed in his throat. Swallowing it, he carefully started to make his way to his friend, tightening the grip on the fray in his claws, sidestepping the lecture material in what could be aptly described as an awkward dance.

He really wished he could just walk in a straight line and be done with it, but his caretaker was perceptive, specially when it came to books. And when she snapped out of whatever obsession had taken hold of her mind, she would see the disaster area they called library, freak out and make him pick up every single tome on the tiles, while checking them for damage.

Celestia help him, if she saw a foot print on one of them. Specially one from him.

After a few minutes, the sight of a unicorn sleeping came into view. The dragon took a look at her face, his lips slowly raising. Her head was on the desk, with her legs forming a circle around it, a notebook next to it. She looked adorable. Peaceful, too.

“Rest well, Twilight,” Spike whispered.

His caretaker was finally resting. That was good.

He really wanted everything to return back to normal, and the hope of such an event occurring laid with the unicorn. She would figure something out. But spending three days locked in a room, alone, without sleeping, was becoming too much, specially after the disaster of the last few days.

She always did that when she was under pressure, obsess over something like it’s the end of the world, ignoring reality and forgetting her well being, forcing him to be the voice of reason and take care of her every need. Sadly, this time was different. Twilight had not involved him in her meltdown. She had locked him out, making him imagine terrible scenarios in his loneliness.

He really was considering dragging her out of the library by the legs, tie her to a log near the fire in the front garden and feed some food to her empty stomach. However, maybe that would not be necessary, if she went out after her nap.

Cold coffee should do the trick, if he know her well. And he did. It should cool down enough before she woke up, he hoped, forcing her out the place in search of a more appropriate beverage.

After silently putting the tray on the desk, he made his way back to the main hall. Once there, before going to the castle’s exit, he stopped in front of the mirror next to the library’s gateway.

“Just because,” he had said to Twilight when asked about why was he hanging a mirror, the day they made the castle their temporary home.

He was hoping that by seeing her reflection, she would snap out of the episode she would get into. And share a laugh. She looked hilarious sometimes.

After flexing his arms, admiring the muscles that definitely were there, he returned to the path to the front garden.

He interrupted his walk a few steps in front of the castle giant doors, outside, near the fire they used to heat their food.

Up in the sky, just above the library’s roof, he could see the small yellow orb that had appeared the day the Nightmare had taken control of the land, and had circled the place since then.

It was a weird little thing their small sun, giving them, and just them, the gift of light, while the rest of the world was dominated by darkness.

Maybe Twilight could make replicas of it to send to the rest of Equestria. Without the playfulness, though.

He swore, its rays seemed to concentrate in his eyes sometimes, blinding him and making him trip, generally when he was right in front of a mud puddle. The result, of course, was him falling face first in it.

If the thing had a face, it would probably be laughing. However, in Twilight’s absence, it was good company.

Averting his eyes from the sphere, the dragon directed his attention to the fire. Black and white dust covered the inside of the circle of rocks they had built around it. A small number of slim, unconsumed branches remained.

It looked like it would die off soon. His breakfast would have to wait then.

Stepping closer to the trees that surrounded the castle, he started to inspect the ground in search of burnable material he could use.

Sadly, the darkness that covered the place made it a tough challenge, limiting the area he could walk to. And he would not venture too deep inside the forest. He would be blind. Plus, he didn’t have a death wish

Crouched, with his eyes closed, he let out a sigh.

Opening them again, he was surprised to see a small path protected by light, the shadows shying away from the sun rays.

Getting up, turning around and putting his hand around his mouth, like a megaphone, he yelled to the yellow orb, “THANKS!”

It really was good company.

After a while, burning wood could be seen behind a smug dragon admiring a pile of food and water bottles, sitting on a log not far away. Nodding once, he turned to the castle’s entrance and stepped inside.

Walking to the aisle opposite the library, he followed the path that would take him to their bedroom.

Twilight hadn’t showed up, so he would have to go for her and lure her outside somehow. Of course, that was plan B. He hoped she was still sleeping or eating her breakfast. If she was awake, and sane, she was probably going to make him pick up some lecture material to not interrupt whatever investigation she was conducting.

So, with that scenario in mind, he had decided to go find his pouch, a small bag made out of bedsheets and a string of wool to hang on one of his shoulders that he had put together before leaving Ponyville.

The sound of lock unlocking itself made him stop at the base of the stairs that led to the top of the right tower of the castle, the place were they went to sleep.

Separating his hand from the wall, he stepped near the open door.

Peering inside, his head just inches apart from the exit while the rest of hist body remained in the other side, the safe one, he asked, “Hello?”

The moment he entered the room, the door behind him closed, the gust of wind it produced sending chills down his spine.

A ray of light sneaked through a petite hole in the roof. On the floor, the light started to expand, forming a circle. From the cebter of it, a yellow tentacle grew, zigzagging like a snake in the wild, to the door on the opposite end.

Right, this was getting creepy.

Turning around, he held the doorknob in both hands, turned it and pushed forward. The door didn’t budge. Now desperate, Spike began to hit the door with his claws. Without warning, it opened, making him fall on the cold tiles of the ground.

He made a run for the tower’s stairs.

At the top, he kicked the bedroom’s entrance, jumped to the bed and hid under the bedsheets.

Safe inside his impenetrable shield, Spike put in action the breathing exercises he had read in one of Twilight’s Christmas gift.

Twilight had the weird idea that everypony liked to receive books in all celebrations. And while he didn’t showed it much, generally displaying a face of silent disinterest, he really appreciated the fact that his caretaker remembered to give him something in every occasion. So he read them, when nopony was around to point hoofs at him.

Now more calm, he risked a peek to the outside world. The room was empty.

After getting out of his bunker, the dragon crunched and reached for the bag under the bed.

He wasn’t messy a dragon, but with the room already looking like a disaster area in its own rights, he wasn’t compelled to clean every minuscule detail. Besides, he hadn’t spent the last three days sitting on his butt. He had built a wood curtain to cover the hole where the windows was suppose to be. And he almost fell!

Twilight didn’t need to know that, though.

With the bag’s string on his arm, he ran off to the library, giving one nervous look to the haunted gate.

Nopony was in the library. The tray on the desk absent of any food. With that last one thought, the dragon assumed that his caretaker finally decided to come to reality.

To the garden, then.

Before leaving, Spike picked the notepad, a feather and a bottle of ink. Twilight would send him to fetch them anyway. She was out, but not out.

The castle’s main doors didn’t make a sound when opened, one of the many special things about their current residence. He was thankful for it, as he didn’t want to startle the unicorn. Still, she had caught him right after the fact.

“Good morning, Spike,” she called him. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Morning, Twilight,” He responded, waving one of his claws. “No problem.”

“Mind telling me why did you left the fire unattended? I am not angry.”

He let out a worried, little laugh. “I went looking for you.” He scratched the back of his head. “Something happened, though: A door trapped me inside one of the rooms near the tower.” His cheeks turned red. “I freaked out and it let me go.”

Spike found himself wrapped in a hug. After a moment, his brain caught up with the situation and he returned the gesture.

“That must have been scary.” She smiled at him. “I am happy you are fine.”

Spike responded her with a warm smile. “You know? I still got to the library. I brought you this.” Rummaging his bag, he extracted her notepad, a feather and some ink.

“Thanks, Spike.”

Spike broke the hug, saluted her and sat down near the fire, inspecting the kettle.

The dragon give her a furtive glance. She was completely entranced with the notepad. The feather floating next to her head, scratching it. Her eyes still had bags under them, her mane was a mess and she was covered in mud. In spite of all that, she looked filled with determination.

Spike began to grin. His best friend was back.

Twilight would stop Nightmare and bring back the Princess, no doubt about it.

And he was going to be with her in every step of the way, taking care of her, helping with whatever she needed. Because he was her number one assistant.

Unknowingly for both of them, one of the elements, for the tiniest moment, glowed.

Author's Note

Now I have to learn about agriculture
14-11-2015: Fixed some issues (see >>6634035 ). Thanks, The Descendant.
15-11-2015: Fixed >>6634726
18-12-2015: Deleted some commas and extra spaces. Fixed some formatting issues and wrong conjugations.