Two more weeks were spent in the hospital before Cadance was deemed capable of survival without the aid of nearby professionals. To anyone who would see her in the passenger seat of Celestia’s sedan, none would be able to discern that anything of consequence had passed her by save for a few scars that still lingered across her features; a dulled cut above her eye, a thin slice of her earlobe forever absent, and a shade of brown below her chin where hot metal had come to rest in her unconscious state. What others had once been were now faded, only memory where scabs had healed over as time had gone on.

Celestia had said little to her friend since Cadance had first awakened, only her continuous presence a reminder that she even still existed. A small worried glance came as the older woman drove her home, but not a word followed it. What could be said that would be of any help now? She, who had delivered the most unendurable news of their lives, was too stained by the pronouncement of death to be worthy of speaking kindness now. Her punishment was constant aid, forever in silence.

If the injured woman saw any of the world pass by as she was escorted homewards, there was no sign that the slightest bit of it registered. A dulled expression was all she wore, too passive for emotion and incapable of anything except for the most basic of speech. A few of the doctors had wondered if her near-muteness was some sort of trauma reaction rather than a result of injury; she had suffered through quite an ordeal, after all. Cadance did react and respond to what she was told, so her cognitive skills still remained. But hardly a word ever crossed her lips.

“Here- here we are,” Celestia said, pulling into Cadance’s driveway with as much gentleness as the rolling curb would allow to avoid her friend’s discomfort. A slow crawl that became a smooth halt, yet still not even a glance towards the familiar colors of tan brick. “You just worry about getting inside, I’ll grab your stuff for you.”

Cadance offered a small nod and mutely obeyed, pushing open the door and tenderly extracting herself from the vehicle, slow to put feet against the concrete. A hurt back had more or less healed up to allow her motion, but the right leg would allow no stride more potent than a limp to power her forward now. Combined with the mastectomy from years passed, her once-flawless body had endured a great deal of injury.

“Here we go, I’ve got everything,” Celestia said, coming about from the back of the car with a bag across her shoulders; what little of Cadance’s things that had survived the wreck intact –and not gorestained- as well as a veritable concoction of pills that would have to be taken for who knew how long. “Come on, it’s freezing out here still. I guess winter isn’t ready to let go just because it’s March.”

The two women went indoors to avoid the gusting winds of the grey world outside, Celestia’s pace heavily slowed as she strode beside the limping Cadance, there and waiting just in case there was an imbalance that caused her to fall. She would need to learn this new, hobbling step in time if she were to be ambulatory.

“The doctors said you should try to take things slow for a little while longer,” Celestia reminded her voiceless companion, “Physical therapy will be the biggest deciding factor in how much more you can do. But they do think you’ll be more or less at full strength before the year’s over, even if you won’t be able to move very fast anymore.”

Cadance nodded, shuffling over to the stairs and slowly working her way up the steps towards the bedroom that called for her. She felt no hunger despite not having eaten since the morning, no desire for drink brought about by thirst. Despite the bruising and pain that had been agonizing only days before, she hardly felt anything at all.

“You’re going to bed?” Celestia asked, receiving a nod in response. “OK, I’ll- here, I’ll grab a few things from the kitchen for you to eat, just in case you get hungry. I don’t really think it’s a good idea for you to be going up and down those stairs while- while… while no one’s home.” A small smile that was on the verge of being broken by tears and the gentle spirit disappeared from sight.

It took her time to extract any fresh clothing from her dresser drawers, the process of bending down, moving legs still an arduous task for her battered body. By the time she’d actually managed to drag out her nightclothes and set them atop the bedcovers, Celestia had appeared with an armful of small snacks and bottles of water for her to consume.

“I didn’t really know what to grab,” Celestia stammered, setting the mishmash of goods upon the top of the dresser in a heap. “I just grabbed a little bit of- well, something you wouldn’t need to heat up or anything. Maybe you should try to eat a little before getting some sleep-”

“I’m fine,” Cadance replied, her words cutting through in a dry croak with a voice ill-used. Was it rude to speak this way? Her mind didn’t know, nor could it find a reason to even care. It wasn’t as if Celestia appeared offended by the brusque remark. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Celestia said. “Would… I’ll be downstairs for a little while if you want, or would just like to- be by yourself for a bit?” The answer was obvious to both of them, no need for it to be spoken aloud. The golden woman gazed at her empty companion for a little while longer as she tried to set her bedroom in order and ignore the lining of dust that had overtaken the once-spotless space in her weeks of absence. “I’ll- just call me if you need anything, alright? Anytime, no matter what. I’ll come on by, fast as I can.”

“OK.”

There was nothing she could do to help and the strength of that fact tore at her loving heart like the claws of a lion. Pausing at the threshold, unable to fully leave before saying, “Cadance, I am… we’re all… so sorry. I can’t imagine. I just- I’m sorry.”

She did not note the absence of Celestia’s presence, nor the sound of the door closing and the car speeding away. Cadance took in little but what her senses knew to be wrong, finding so much amiss that had to be addressed. Her bedroom was not clean, the time on the clock meant that Twilight would have been back by now, and the entire house was bereft of all sounds of life. She was alone in her house after so many years spent alongside the comforting presence of another.

A shuffle to the darkened bathroom, switching on the lights so as to look at herself for the first time in weeks. The gaunt face that stared back at her with hollow eyes was one she knew to be her own, that half-endowed, half-sunken chest was her own, and now that wounded, limping leg would be her own as well. She stared at the colors of her hair, the contours of her face, the decaying form of her figure and recognized all of it. By all appearances, she was whole; but of course that wasn’t true. Had she ever been more broken? Could it ever even be matched? Her heart was in ragged tatters, her spirit devoid of life, the very things that made Cadance who she was ripped in half by an action so violent that she knew the scars would remain forever. She was not herself, nor would she ever be herself again. She was injured, damaged, broken and incapable of healing, for she was little more than part of a person now that Twilight was dead.

She did not recall falling onto the bed and the pain that came with it, or if the tears ever did cease their stinging flow. But she remembered that there was no sleep to be found that night, and perhaps would never be found again in a bed so utterly empty.

The visitation was to be a closed casket, against Cadance’s will and by the demands of funeral home staff as well as Celestia. She had so desperately wanted to see her one last time; to see that peaceful expression adorned by those square glasses, to take in the features that had remained so smooth and flawless despite the racing of time, all of it made perfect by the smooth locks of hair that cascaded down her face. It would have been as though she were only sleeping, a peaceful rest so far away from the agony that her once-bride now endured. But to look upon the darkened colors of a funeral casket and know that only the spare few inches of wood was all that separated her from the face that she’d loved with all her heart had a horrid finality to the matter. This was death, Twilight was dead, and the separation they now endured was of a permanent thing. The hurt that she had endured in days when her wondrous wife was absent had been an ache, a hurting of her spirit; to think that she had ever, ever thought it could be as bad as this…

In the time before other mourners would arrive, Cadance found herself in the visitation room beside the aged wood that shielded her Twilight from all outside harm. She wanted no eye to fall upon its presence, yet still it drew her gaze as though it were the open maw of a ravenous beast. They were so close to one another, just mere inches and the thick trappings of fiber to seal the world of the living from that of the dead. As she gazed down, part of her wondered if this was a chance to break the spell. Wrench open that miserable container of the grave and see Twilight resurrected, this death little more than a passing thing. Or was it closure she sought? To know just what had become of her beloved; how the older, frailer and weaker one of them could possibly survive such a vicious wreck. It did not make sense to her that one so strong and brimming with life could possibly be snuffed out like a candle’s flame.

As her hand pressed against the polished wood, another fell upon her shoulder to see attention dragged away from the casket; Celestia had entered the room without her noticing and now stood beside her, features nearly shattered by grief and fear.

“You don’t need to,” she said in a quiet plea. “You… do not need to see what’s in there.”

“Is- is she even in there?” Cadance asked, waiting for the nod that would reveal the answer, it arriving and pock-marked by tears. “Then I need to see her.”

“Cadance…” Celestia was struggling, horrific memory and deep feeling spurring her to not yield the slightest ground; she was determined to see her wishes satisfied. “You know her face- better than anyone in the world, by far. I promise that is more than enough, don’t ruin it with what you’d find.”

“I need to see her. To- to say goodbye,” Cadance countered. “What if there’s something wrong I need to help with? She needs to- to-” She wanted a reason that made sense to someone else and not just to her own desperate heart that was hanging in tatters. Twilight needed her to say this goodbye, and only face-to-face would suffice. She needed to say goodbye and that she was sorry for all the times she’d failed and that if anyone –anyone- in the world was worthy of something better in the future then it was Twilight; even if only for her own sake.

“Cadance… I am begging you to not open that casket,” Celestia murmured. She forced the tears to hold back for a little while longer, to keep the shadow that swirled about behind their shining filament at bay. “I would rather you be dead than you ever see what’s in there. Please, whatever you do, don’t keep trying.”

Each moment that Cadance failed to win her companion over only made it feel all the worse, and her arguments all the more irrational. Celestia was desperately trying to protect her from a mistake she’d regret and still she wished to plunge headlong into it. She had so many reasons that would make sense to her alone, yet incapable of convincing anyone else. She needed to see her Twilight, even if she knew she couldn’t.

The visitation was nigh unendurable for Cadance. So many people came to offer her their condolences and say their farewells to someone they called friend. They all meant so well, wished so much that there was something they could say or do that would staunch the flow of this wound. Applejack had ensured time away from the farm to say her farewells; Rarity and Adagio flew in from Manehatten and gifted flowers along with their tears; Luna’s caravan of family crossed the country to see companion both fallen and living; Fluttershy and Rainbow had paused in their constant travels to make sure they were present; Pinkie and Sunset showed their faces and entered timidly to bring what comfort they could, as though fearful that they would somehow be blamed for a night that had gone all so wrong. Even Shining Armor made a rare appearance from somewhere out in the wide world, dressed in his military finest to say this last goodbye to his little sister. So many faces and names and souls coming by to bring what comfort they could, all speaking so lovingly of Twilight that it could not be doubted just how deeply she had been cherished by so many. A treasure, a joy, a friend, a mentor, a guiding hand, a delight, all of it and so much more. They wanted Cadance to know, even if every new pronouncement was a knife in her soul.

A few people spoke at the service, herself included, though if pressed Cadance could not remember a single word that was said. Even her own speech, prepared by her own mind, seemed detached and separate from reality. There were stories shared, comparisons made, Twilight continuously held up as an example of a gentle nature and a loving heart. But that had been of the living Twilight, the girl-turned-woman who had filled her life with so much joy that it couldn’t possibly have been contained in all the books in the world. Cadance knew she was not capable of speaking for the dead. What was she supposed to say about the Twilight whose remains now lay in the trappings of a tree?

To her mind, at least the earth offered its proper respects; the skies were grey but devoid of rain, a cold upon the air yet not bristling with an icy wind. There was only silence, an emptiness that was a kinship to Cadance’s wounded self. Why should there be echoes of grief from the world that had allowed Twilight to be taken from her? The only acceptable posture was to admit to the absence and allow the loss to be seen. Half of her was gone and the whole earth should be forced to echo as such.

The sound of music played as Twilight was lowered down into the perfectly carved box of ground, laid deep within and resting so peacefully beneath the layer of wood that was slowly to be covered in soil. Cadance stood at the side of the open space and said not a word, not even as friends and loved ones alike came by to speak to her and offer a gentle hand in her time of mourning. To see so much of her down in the maw of the earth had turned the once-joyful woman numb; she could feel nothing, say nothing, merely stand and stare as the woman she’d loved more than anything in all her life be made more and more separate. She knew that this one last connection would be severed the moment she turned to leave; thin string cut through without a sound, unnoticeable to all but one. If she turned her back, then it would be the acceptance that Twilight really was gone- gone and never coming back. It was such a task to accomplish, and to do so might be something that would actually kill her.

“Cadance…” Celestia had waited in silence some distance behind her, allowing the once-bride all the time she needed to mourn. Closer to both of them than perhaps any other friend had been, the desperation to try and offer all her aid was likely impossible to resist. Despite what her aching heart compelled from her, wisdom spoke that the best course of action would be to say nothing. No words would ever be enough to help heal a hurt this unrelentingly grievous.

Cadance resisted this grip on her arm. She had every right to mourn for as long as she wished- without interruptions. What had made Celestia feel safe in making such an intrusion? “Give me a few more minutes,” she said.

“I really wish I could,” the golden woman whispered. “Cemetery staff said they’re going to close the gate for the night in just a few minutes. They need us to leave.”

She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. If she left now, then it really would be final and death would claim the one who had made her life worth living. How could she leave Twilight behind in this desolate place? Her grave surrounded by wreaths and flowers, cards and notes and farewells of all kinds that their like could not be counted, yet all of it brimming amidst the presence of the dead. This was such a cruel place to lie. This was no garden, no peaceful resting place surrounded by beauty, just a cold and weary world that had never once deserved her- just like Cadance.

“Let’s see you home,” Celestia said, her hand still about Cadance’s arm. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

Cadance would have gladly remained, more at home surrounded by death than she could ever hope to feel about the living. Yet still she allowed herself to be led on, a bright-faced woman now turned so terribly dull, away from the still mound of soil where her heart would forever remain.

No one at Crystal Prep was expecting her back for a few more weeks. So many of her loyal staff had made it clear that they would allow her time to grieve and be physically ready to start working again. Her vice-principal had been ever so lovely about the whole thing, insisting that she could handle work for the rest of the semester if it was deemed necessary. All of it delivered professionally, filled with kindness and murmurations of their sympathy. So Cadance was allowed to rot within the empty space of her home that was far too large for one, to sleep in a bed that was much too empty, and simply let the world outside pass by before her eyes without a care in the world. She could not summon any strength or emotion for such things any longer.

Each morning would begin with a dulled awakening, the little difference in the color between when she shut her eyes and opened them making it impossible to know if any slumber had transpired. So much of her time was spent just lying there; Cadance felt no urge for sleep, nor hunger, or much of anything at all. Why should she know that her mind had gained a moment of rest? Dream, memory, and reality all seemed the same by now. All her senses saw was Twilight; stories and moments and cherished things that she had never shared with anyone- or the sunken absence in the mattress where she had once lay that now sat empty. Each was just as unbearable as the other and what little of her mind that could summon conscious thought wished for both to disappear.

Without her bride, daily rituals held a broken rhythm to them; she would make too much breakfast, have too much coffee in the pot. Too many dishes would be drawn from the cupboards before she remembered that only one soul lived in this house now, the thought present simply to add more pain. Then she would limp to the living room and lie on the couch while the TV added its noise to the empty house, Cadance doing what she could to ignore the calls and texts that would come from so many worrying, caring souls. Celestia tried to talk to her every day; Sunset or Pinkie would have something gentle to say; so many old friends and family that still endured wanted her to know that she was loved and being thought of each and every day. If she could find the strength to tell them to stop, she would; nothing they said would fix what was so obviously wrong and their words only made the wound feel worse.

What food she ate arose from habit more than any primal urge or need; she wondered how on earth she had ever felt hungry before, what the sensation was even supposed to feel like. Cadance knew she needed to eat, but what on earth for? What good would it do her? Throughout the day would instinct compel her to sustenance of any kind, blocked by an apathy so thick that the thought could hardly pass through with any potency. All she wanted to do was not think, not feel, not do anything. Or was that even the honest answer? There was something that itched beneath it all, an answer begging for its release. Part of her knew it already. The other feared the day it would be named.

The day would pass on with Cadance remaining in silence, surrounded by so many things that brought memories she didn’t want to remember. None of them felt pleasant anymore, more like hot slivers of steel upon heart and mind. Was she supposed to cry? Struggle beneath their weight? All she felt was an emptiness, an exhaustion so heavy that her bones were like lead. No words was said, written, or typed out; there was nothing worth saying anymore. Twilight had been the wordsmith, the one who knew best how to bring life from the nothingness. How was she supposed to make something out of the nothing that so surrounded her?

A day came by, when or where Cadance didn’t know. Was it morning, before the sun had fully risen, or the dying hours of the day? All she knew was its name, one that she could not speak for its greatest emblem upon this earth was not across the table from her to embody it. A plate of poorly cooked food sat there before her, she gazing down upon it with as much interest in consumption if it were a dish of mud. Why did she want to eat at all? What drove her to consume? Was there any good explanation any longer, now that Twilight was dead? Why try to survive and carry on when the light had left her life? It would be better if she wasted away, day by day; the agony of a slow, painful departure from existence before she at last breathed her last. It was what she deserved, after all. After all the years, the countless things that she never should have said and done against one so lovely and innocent… to peacefully leave this life was not a suitable punishment for one such as her. Cadance needed to waste away, feel every moment of pain before the time came. Why not start now?

A sudden heave of ceramic dishware that broke against the hard plastic of the dishwasher and she collapsed into her own hands, tears finding their strength to flow. How on earth did she even have tears to shed? She didn’t deserve water. There was so much she had to account for, and Cadance would be damned before she let this slide; this was her age of reckoning, and her calling was to suffer.

A slow, miserable stagger over to the couch where she collapsed headfirst, feeling the freshly scarred skin of her salt-stained face burn when brushed by hardened fabric. Good; it was only a small thing, but better than nothing. She practically rubbed her face in it, the constant memories of she and Twilight upon this couch so unbearable that there was nothing on earth that could stupor the tears. So much love and sorrow, sickness and health, all of it wonderful no matter the circumstance. But how was she supposed to bear the weight of so much memory when the one who’d forged them with her was no longer present? Wasn’t she the older of them? She should have gone first! Age, illness, a sudden death- all better suited for her ilk than for one so angelic. But no, fate had designed something far more cruel-

And then Cadance realized a new side of such an argument: her death would have caused Twilight pain. Her beloved bride would have grieved for her, mourned her, suffered her absence. So she wished for another to endure her pain in her place instead. Of course she did, she was awful. What else would she be but selfish? The thought burned at her spirit and brought forth more tears, adding to the pain. She could only hope it would never stop.

The grieving widow knew not how long she lay against the aging fabric, the passage of time beyond her reckoning any longer. What was she supposed to care? No responsibilities, not needed by anyone, and no desire to continue on in this wretched world without the one who had given it light. What was there to enjoy, to do, to look forward to? A life without Twilight offered nothing but a painful, greyed thing absent of joy. The longer she went on, the less she would feel, even the absence of pain or hurt too difficult to bear. Why should she carry on through a world in which she would not be human? Damned she would be if there were no aim; better to see the end come now at her own will than to carry on until at last the final breath escaped her lungs in a ragged shudder.

A sound came to her ears from beyond her slowly shrinking world, the dim blackness pushed back by its presence; a knocking of flesh and bone upon hardwood over and over again as the raps came more often and in greater intensity. Whatever made the concussive sound demanded to be recognized, so much that even the sound of mechanical function came not long after. Wearied beyond what her senses could currently tell her, Cadance found no reason to rise to her feet and answer the summons. Had she fallen asleep, perhaps? Or was she so despondent that the grief held her down with bones of lead?

“Hello? Cadance, are you- there you are...” The fretting voice of Celestia rang in her ears with the strength of thunder, footsteps rushing over as bags were dropped against carpet, the older woman’s hands coming about her shoulders and hoisting her from atop the couch. “Are you alright? I hope I didn’t wake you from a nap, I know you said you hadn’t been sleeping much last we talked-”

“I’m fine,” Cadance muttered, a weak arm trying to push away her unwanted companion. This was not how she wished to be found, especially by one that might actually care she was in poor countenance. “Go away.”

“Not until I’m sure you alright-”

“And why would I be alright?” Came the challenge.

“… Not until I’m sure you’re physically alright, at least,” Celestia ceded. It had been a poor choice of words even if it was well-meant. Cadance had lost the woman she loved after decades of time spent in happiness. Why would she be alright? “I haven’t talked to you in a while, I was worried.”

“Well here I am,” Cadance said. Her words arrived with the force of a dulled hammer, blunt and without feeling; part of her mind wondered if perhaps she really had just awoken from slumber considering just how raw her emotions were; she had not felt this rankled in heaven knew how long. “Will you please leave now?”

Celestia turned away for a moment and regarded her surroundings for a time longer. Yes, she was likely intruding, but it was a welfare check on someone she cared about. What would a good friend do in a situation like this? Was leaving the correct choice after all, or were other duties required of her? It was difficult to say. “I… not until I make sure you’re in something of a good shape,” the stellar woman muttered, receiving a sigh of frustration from her companion. “I know, I’m not welcome. But I’m worried about you still.”

“What do you expect me to be doing right now?” Cadance challenged. “Just going on about my day like nothing ever happened? Huh? Should I just be treating this like any other Tuesday?!”

“That’s not what I mean. And no, I do not expect you to be like normal,” Celestia admitted. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t worried about you. I’ve tried calling your for days and you haven’t responded. Especially since you’re here all alone –for days now- I thought I needed to check in on you.”

“Well you’ve done that. So go away,” Cadance pressed. When Celestia still hesitated at her place beside the sorrowed spouse, the anger within began to flare up. “Go away, OK? That is not a joke, I want you to leave. I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“Cadance, please- I’m not just here for me,” Celestia continued, “Sunset and Pinkie, Rarity, the others- all your friends, they’re all worried about you. I was closest and they asked me to check in, what am I supposed to say to them-”

“I don’t want to talk to them either!” Cadance cried, the firstfruits of her tears at last falling from her eyes. She hadn’t meant to allow her feelings to turn ablaze, intent on being little more than a stone amidst the storm. But this badgering, this incessant and unrelenting badgering! “There is no one on this earth I wanna talk to because not one of you is going to understand how I feel. So get up and go away, please! I am not going to ask again!”

“How can I be a good friend and leave you like this?” The resplendent woman replied. Not once had she taken any of the cruel words to heart, simply allowing their pointed ends to sink in and deal their wounds as she tried to so intently help heal another. “I know you want me to go, but- but how can I when you’re like this? What if something happens to you?”

“Good! That’d be great- and don’t you deny it!” Cadance roared, rising to her staggering feet and screaming in her companion’s face with all the force her tired form could muster. “Why would I want to be OK, huh? Tell me!”

“Cadance-”

“I miss Twilight. I want to talk just to her, I want to hold her, I would give up everything I’ve ever had in all my life if it meant she was still here- if I could just see her again! You’ve been alone all your life, how could you even imagine what this feels like?” Cadance screamed, hardly an inch’s space between the two women as her emotions finally came to life. Like the bursting of a dam, the deluge of her ravaged emotions came forth after so much time spent emotionless, current circumstances doing their best to make up for lost time and sending the aggrieved woman into a fury. “What am I supposed to say, or do- at all! I sure as hell hope you can tell me because I don’t know anymore! I’m not even really here, anymore! Why would I want to get better when I know I’ll never be able to? Huh? Do you have anything to say at all? ANSWER!”

Celestia said nothing in response, the slow stains of tears falling down her aging face from eyes that carried a sorrow entirely her own. This was a pain beyond her realm or reckoning and she was wise enough to know it, words of comfort that could possibly be muttered by anyone too far for her to reach. The pain that stood before her was a grievous thing, a wound cut so deep that to staunch the flow might really be an impossible thing. Shame, cold and cutting in its words, demanded that she leave this woman to her suffering; her heart demanded she stay no matter what came next as her mind urged on the very same. This was where she was meant to be even if she was so unwelcome within this trauma.

Cadance took a step away and staggered further, chest heaving from the spent breath as her head spun. So much oxygen dispensed in such a short time, combined with the weariness, made her lightheaded and ready to collapse. A hand against the nearby loveseat helped to ease matters somewhat, but not enough to resolve it entirely. Her world was topsy-turvy and upside-down, so wrong in so many ways that she knew of no way available in all the world that could possibly make it right again. She was a walking corpse, half of a human shuffling down a road that led to nowhere. There was only one way in which this would end, whether it was years in the future when she finally breathed her last- or right now. Only one thing in the world could cure this ache that would not ease.

“Cadance..?”

“I can’t do this,” Cadance breathed. Heart began to pound, fight-or-flight coming to life as the makeshift plan formed in her brain. “I can’t be here if Twilight’s not. I am not capable anymore-”

“Cadance, no-” A hand darted out and clenched down on a solitary wrist, holding back the despairing woman from her trek into the kitchen where knives and blades could so easily shed blood.

“And why not?” Cadance challenged. “I shouldn’t be here- I shouldn’t be here and you know it! It should have always been me, I wish it was me!”

“But it wasn’t,” Celestia murmured. “Please, don’t go down that road. Not for a moment, not ever.”

“Because I have so much to live for, right?” Came the mocking reply. “Because it’d make you all sad, well to hell with you! I want to be with Twilight again, I can’t do this without her and you know it!”

“But you can,” was the insisted call. “Even when it feels like your world is ending and you’re standing in the ruins of your life.”

“Don’t you dare to pretend to know what this feels like-”

“I will not let you end your life, Cadance. I can’t do it,” Celestia said, firm and too strong in her grasp to allow the frail widow the opportunity to carry on in her desired suicide. “I can’t.”

“I hate you!”

“Then hate me!”

The free hand delivered a slap across the cheek, desperate for one stunning blow that would see grip weakened. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. We love you, Cadance. I love you, she loved you-”

“Don’t you speak like that!” She could not bear the burning, the stinging that would not relent. She needed to be away from this conversation, this world, this life- “I wanna be with her, why won’t you let me go? You have to let me go!”

“I can’t.”

“Let me go!” She demanded.

“No,” Celestia answered.

“Damn you, let me go!” Cadance shrieked, pulling and tugging with all her might to find the one thing left in all the world that could at last give her relief from this remorseless suffering, whatever came after be damned. Even if she knew that this was all her fault, knowing that she would not follow in Twilight’s footsteps, the thought that she would have to bear this agony for even a second further was more than she could take; she needed oblivion or hellfire in her heart. “Let me go, let me go, let me go! I wanna be with Twilight, you LET ME GO!”

Celestia did not budge, did not release her hand from about Cadance’s wrist, even as scratches and slap continued their barrage, even as Cadance fell to the ground screaming aloud so powerfully that perhaps her lungs might burst, heart give out and she breathe her last. She would not let go of her friend who grieved in a sorrow beyond understanding, lest that unbearable end did indeed come to life. She allowed the wails to flow freely, the tears to at last fall in their unrelenting abandon, body to collapse beneath its own weight until Cadance was little more than a heap on the floor. And then she was there to add another arm about the shivering, weeping form, holding her tight as Celestia became a guardian against all the outside world. By her will nothing would enter and pierce this grieving heart, her own body and spirit present to safeguard a broken woman. In her grasp did she allow Cadance to cry, the tears to continue falling until the floodwaters could go no further; no new shudder, no fresh fire or fury to be unleashed yet again. Like a ship at sea the two rode out the storm together, Celestia the unwavering force that willed her friend to live for a little moment more. It would only be for a day, perhaps two if she were lucky, but for now it was enough. And she would be there again, if need arose.

“It’s late, Cadance,” Celestia whispered, arm remaining wrapped about the spent woman and guiding her along. “You need to rest.”

“I don’t want to rest,” Cadance muttered; too exhausted to even think of sleep, perhaps only finality could offer the relief she so desperately needed. “I want to see Twilight.”

“I do, too,” came the answer. “I really do. But you need to rest right now.”

So spent that the choice of her own will was left behind, Cadance led up the stairs to where her empty bedroom awaited. The bed was still too large, this house too quiet, so much of it missing Twilight and all that she had brought in life. There was so much she’d wanted to say, so much she’d wanted to do. To continue kissing those lips, to love that woman even as old age really sank its teeth in deep, so many experiences and moments lost without her even having a choice on the slightest matter of it all. It was so wrong that she remained, wretched and foul and so decrepit, yet here she was: still living and breathing, while one so good and pure as Twilight had taken the road to safer dwellings.

As she was laid down atop the mattress and instructed to close her eyes, Cadance could do little else but comply, and pray that she not open eyes to see the sun rise.

Author's Note

Parts of your own heart are buried over time. You never really know how to live with it.
You just do, I guess.

Keep reading, I guess.