It was cold. So very cold. A shiver went up her spine, and a low whine escaped her muzzle. Why was it so cold? She had fur, after all. The fur of a pony protects them from the biting chill. But not if the fur was wet. Was she wet?

She could feel the water on her now, its moistness absorbed by her coat and onto her freezing skin. There was another wetness, but this one was different. It was salty, and warm. It was coming from her eyes.

There was darkness next, and she realized her eyes were closed. Images flashed around her. She saw her friends, her family, the Princesses, her brother... and another. A biped. What was the word again.... Humans. It was a Human. He was tall, strong, and covered in clothing and armor. She wasn't intimidated though, for a relieved smile and an expression that bled concern seemed to be coming from him. She was wrapped in his arms; his muscular arms. She could smell the brief odor of sweat, and for a fleeting moment, pictures of warmth, bliss, and pleasure passed through her.

She gave a quiet mewl at the sensation, and she snuggled deeper into the warmth. She didn't want to leave it, for it was so comfortable against the wetness in her coat. There were voices out and around her now, but they were muffled. It was as though she was behind a wall of sound-proof fabric. It was comfy though, so she couldn't complain.

Then she heard another voice.

"I love you."

For a brief moment, she didn't recognize the voice, but once her brain caught up to the information it was processing, she froze up. A hand began rubbing her back, and there was slight movement now. She was so sleepy, and she reckoned that the Sergeant had taken her frozen state as a bad sign and was trying to comfort her. She found it hard to keep from falling asleep, and once again the chill was back. This time, she felt it in her bones.

There was a moment where everything was silent, then a rumble of thunder went off along with a gust of wind. Next thing she knew, the wind was gone, and it was replaced by the distant sounds of laughter and cheering. Some form of music was being played, and Twilight recognized the tune as one from her fillyhood. She felt her consciousness fleeting once more, and she tried to force herself to stay awake.

Twilight blinked, and she suddenly heard the sounds of Dean's voice from above intermingled with those of various others. She recognized Spitfire, Midnight, and surprisingly, Zecora. But how was that possible? She thought Zecora was dead?

The sounds of music grew louder, and she felt Dean's hand brace her rump. It was then that she realized she was curled up under his jacket, and her face exploded into a blush. Likely not knowing he was doing anything wrong, his hand had briefly passed over her hidden wings on their way down, causing another shudder to run up her spine. It was getting warmer now, and Twilight found it easier to breathe. The chill was nearly gone, and the muscles in her eyelids relaxed.

She blinked.

A bottle was being pressed against her snout, and she suddenly realized her throat was very, very dry. She didn't open her eye's, and instead let whoever it was beside her feed her the precious life-giving water. A few words were mumbled, and she caught 'potion', and 'hypo-something', but she soon passed out again.

Thirty minutes later, she woke up.

*****

"HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!" The crowd of ponies cheered as a break in the song appeared. It lasted a mere two seconds, and then the jovial tune was once again in full swing. The ponies at the small 'stage' each played an instrument, but the song was unknown to the lone Human sitting near the back of the room.

To his left was Spike, a paper bag full of pretzels in his lap as he munched happily away. To his right, Zecora and Gilda sat. The Zebra shaman was nodding along with the tune while humming, and the griffon held a bored look on her beak. Dean rolled his eyes and turned his attention forwards.

Midnight Flow was standing off to the side of the stage, and he was calling on the next group of ponies to take part in the Karaoke. Dean caught sight of Swift Spear, Cobalt, and Steel along with three Pegasus mares taking the stage next. The two brothers picked up guitars, and Swift Spear hoisted a bass guitar nearly as big as him. Two of the mares picked up some rusty saxophones, and the third went over to a rickety drum set. Everything about the drums screamed homemade, but the instrument worked surprisingly well for such shoddy crafting.

'Makes sense with the lack of resources.' Dean mused as he sat back in his seat. The drummer tested her kit, and her sticks flashed across the snare drum briefly. Dean blinked from the sudden sound, and everything around him went immediately quiet. He could see everyone moving around on the stage, along with the spectators as they conversed, but he could not hear them.

The snare drum sounded again, and Dean blinked once more. His hand curled around his helmet, which was sitting beside him, and his posture slowly straightened.

Ratta-tat-tat...

"Left, Left, Left-right-left, left...

Dean's feet carried him forward as he marched along with his fellow soldiers. Men who he had trained with, bled with, and fought with. Whether they were friends or not, they were a unit, and each of them was as proud as could be. The training was almost over, and soon they would be deployed overseas to quell the Orithian attack.

Ratta-tat-tat...

There was a flash.

He was sprinting through a street as hardlight whizzed over his head. One beam smashed into the lower section of a hotel and sent concrete exploding outward. Civilian's screamed as they ran the opposite direction, but many weren't fast enough and were felled by the alien attackers.

Dean brought his rifle to bear and provided covering fire, taking out one attacker while the others scattered behind cover.

Ratta-tat-tat...

There was a flash.

Dean watched from atop a hill as hundreds of body-bags lay strewn about below. There wasn't any time to dig graves, and so they were left there until the area was secure. The wind blew, and the smell of smoke and death was carried with it. A small group of civilians, refugees from the city, were gathered near the edge of the field. Their voices loud as they sang Amazing Grace. Dean's face hardened, and he continued jogging towards his next objective. If those civilians didn't leave, the Orith would get them.

Ratta-tat-tat...

There was a flash.

Dean held a crying child in his arms as he quickly ushered the mother and her young son towards the basement. He was deep behind enemy lines, and had come across them by accident.

Knowing they would not survive where they were, Dean intended to shepard them to the basement of the complex in the hopes of keeping them hidden. He was so focused on his front that he failed to hear the snap of a claw stepping on and breaking a piece of wood.

Automatic fire erupted behind him, and he was hit in the side. His suit blared an alarm in his ear as he was tossed sideways, leaving the little girl in his arms exposed. There was no cry of pain, and merely a second after he hit the ground, he had his pistol out and firing on the ambushing Orith soldier.

There was a final flash, and there was no sound of the drum.

Dean sat there silently. The remains of the family were strewn about the room, their bodies being destroyed by the hardlight that smashed into them. Blood covered Dean's hands, and what remained of the little girl's insides were splashed across his chest and face. Rage built within him, and his fist slammed into the concrete floor, cracking it and causing spiderwebs to appear. Getting up, he continued on with his mission.

*****

"Dean? Deeaan?" The man blinked and turned his head, noticing that the dragon to his side was shaking his arm. He blinked once more before he felt the presence of many eyes on him. Looking around, He saw that many in the room were staring at him in wonder. The band hadn't begun playing yet, but their focus was on him as well.

Dean gulped and gripped his helmet tighter. Having no idea what had happened, he was beginning to grow uncomfortable with all the looks.

"Sergeant... that was beautiful!" Stormfly cheered from in front of him.

Dean blinked as the sound of clopping hooves rumbled around him. He blinked in surprise, and then again in confusion. He looked down at Spike with a question on his lips and found the Dragon smiling from ear to ear. Seeing the confusion on his friend's face, he waved a claw in the air.

"You just started singing for a minute. Something about grace and how sweet the sound was. The lyrics were awesome, and I didn't know you could sing like that!" Spike gushed as Dean's mouth flapped.

'I was singing?' He thought to himself as his mind drew a blank. He didn't remember even opening his mouth, let alone singing.

"Sergeant!" Midnight called from across the room. Dean's head snapped up and he focused on the black Pegasus. "Would you like to go after this group? They were going to be the last for the night, but it would be wonderful if you could give us a few Human songs!"

There were a few cheers along with a few ponies calling "do it!" And Dean fidgeted. Truth was he knew how to play a guitar quite well, and he had taken singing lessons as a teenager. Before the war, himself, his wife, and his son would have a karaoke night every second Friday. Even though he hadn't properly sung in seven years, he doubted his ability had deteriorated in the slightest. Rusty, sure, but a few songs and their chords were already playing through his head. As the ponies stared at him intently, Dean sighed and gave an almost imperceptible nod. This caused the group to cheer rather uproariously, and the Sergeant huffed as he leaned back.

While the current band began to play, Dean's expression darkened.

"I'm a damn superweapon. A Bioengineered Human designed to win a war. And they want me to sing them a few songs." Dean couldn't help but feel a bit bitter. The last time he sang was with his wife the day before he left for the RSTF program. Just thinking about singing, and all the fun he had doing it was bringing up old memories; ones he needed pushed to the recesses of his mind unless he wanted to have another mental break.

Gilda gave Dean a side eye before a frown creased her beak. "Every soldier needs a bit of down time, no matter what their capabilities are, Human. Morale is a key component in war, and this is one of the ways of keeping it together. Plus, I am told that music is good for the soul, even if it does sound a bit dweeby."

Dean nodded in acknowledgement, and he understood that her words rang true, but it did not make him feel better. As the band on the stage concluded their first song, one about a stallion trying to make a big impact on a place called Manehattan, the man scowled to himself.

Leaning back against the wall with a heavy sigh, his eyes slowly drifted to the hallway leading to his room.

The room that Twilight was sleeping in.

Mind going blank for a moment, Dean wondered what he should do. He had a plan to win this war, and while it wasn't the most well thought out, it might certainly work. The only problem was Twilight. He was well aware of her importance, and he was also aware that she was vulnerable. For two years she had been alone. For two years she had evaded capture, not knowing if her friends and family were still alive, or the state of the war. Then he came along, and she grew attached to him. He would be lying to himself if he wasn't interested in the pony, even if the thought was a bit weird, but he had commitment elsewhere. When the war was finished, and he was sent back home, he would be leaving her alone. While she did have her younger brother, she was in a fragile state of mind. Dean was no psychologist, and he had no idea how his departure might affect his friend. What had happened a mere two hours ago was reason enough that he needed to find a solution.

A spike of pain suddenly sifted through his head, and Dean grit his teeth as he quickly reached up and rubbed above his nose. It felt like someone was trying to drive a spike between his eyes, and all but froze up as his head beat like it was being drummed.

Something wet dripped from Dean's lip, and his eyes suddenly widened. The aching throb suddenly went to the back of his mind as he quickly raised a hand to his nose. His arms trembled as he looked down and saw the splotches of blood dripping onto his skin.

Beginning to panic, Dean slowly grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket and brought it to his nose. Slowly but surely, the bleeding began to stop as it absorbed into the cloth, and Dean's anxiety started to subside. Glancing to his sides suspiciously, he was glad to note that none of those around him saw his actions.

Removing the handkerchief, Dean's eyes snapped to the front of the room as clopping broke the sudden silence. The band was done, and now it was his turn.

"Alright folks, last but not least, let's welcome First Sergeant Dean to the stage!"

There was polite clopping of hooves, and Dean found himself walking towards the front. He didn't remember standing, but it mattered little as he navigated his way through the mass of bodies. Many ogled his size as he stepped over and around them, and it was no wonder why. Many of the soldiers in the room had only seen him in passing, while the others only saw him as he led training exercises. Each and every being there knew his reputation, and he was about to sing them a few songs.

Coming to the stage, he saw Midnight give him a warm smile, one that Dean halfheartedly returned. He turned his head and analyzed the small selection of instruments. He was looking for one in particular: an acoustic guitar to be exact. He spotted it behind the drums and quickly moved to grab it.

Three songs entered his head then, two of which he knew quite well, the third would need a bit of remembering. He wrapped his hands around the neck of the guitar and gently pulled it from its stand. Turning, he saw that nearly a hundred sets of eyes were staring at him intently. Someone, likely Midnight, had moved a stool so that he was to sit right at the front of the stage. There was no microphone, so the Sergeant would need to project his voice as much as possible. With the room being completely enclosed, he had no doubt it'd be easy enough.

Back in the day, Dean Forrester would have been terrified of sitting in front of a group of people and playing some music. However, back in the day, he wasn't a soldier. He knew the importance of morale, and upon looking at the group before him, he realized they needed as much as they could get.

Something welled within Dean just then; a foreign yet strangely familiar feeling. The edges of his vision turned red, and Dean recalled from past experience the same thing happening to him during his fight with Chrysalis. However, this time, instead of feeling strength enter his muscles, he felt it welling in his heart. He didn't know how to describe it, and it didn't seem to be negatively affecting him, so Dean merely shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the slightly too small stool.

The room went deathly silent then, and Dean gently strummed the guitar. He noticed that the A-string was slightly out of tune and quickly adjusted it. Following this, he played a G-chord, a C, a B-minor, then an F. Once he got the feel of that, he rapidly switched between the chords and mixed up his strumming. His eyes closed as he once again became accustomed to the instrument, and with a final downwards strum, he began to play. His fingers flashed across the frets and his feet began to tap the hardwood beneath him. He saw many of those present perk up, and even more began to bob their head to the optimistic feel of the tune. Looking further back, Dean noticed a certain purple Alicorn sitting next to Spike. Her eyes were focused on him with intent, and a violet flash seemed to pass through her irises. She was wrapped up in Dean's jacket, and only her head popped out. Frankly, Dean found it adorable. He smiled at her, and she returned it with one of her own. Then he sang:

Almost heaven, West Virginia!

Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River

Life is old there, older than the trees

Younger than the mountains, growin' like a breeze

Dean's voice was clear and concise. He made an effort to give a more southern tinge to his tune, and the Equestrians listened with rapt attention. Anticipation began to build as Dean entered into the first chorus.

Country roads, take me home!

To the place I belong!

West Virginia, mountain mama,

Take me home, country roads!

Heads bobbing, and many clapping along to the beat, Dean smiled as he played. Memories, happy ones, resurfaced for the first time in ages, and energy entered into him like a fresh breath as he continued on.

All my memories gather 'round her,

Miner's lady, stranger to blue water,

Dark and dusty, painted on the sky,

Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye,

Not anticipating what was to come, the unexpected voices of nearly a hundred ponies nearly caused Dean to lose tempo. Thanks to his hyper-reflexes, he managed to continue and sing his heart out.

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong

West Virginia, mountain mama

Take me home, country roads

The rhythm changed ever so slightly, and the ponies leaned forward as Dean launched into the bridge.

I hear her voice in the mornin' hour, she calls me,

The radio reminds me of my home far away!

Drivin' down the road, I get a feelin',

That I should've been home yesterday, yesterday!

Ready this time, a tinge of red flared in Dean's eyes. Instead of a conglomeration of loud voices, the volume was toned back to reveal a beautiful chorus.

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong

West Virginia, mountain mama

Take me home, country roads

Something akin to a choir played behind Dean's words, and Dean saw Midnight and Spitfire holding each other as they sang along. Stopping his singing, he instead merely played the guitar as the ponies finished for him. Had he not been so invested, he would have thought it uncanny how perfectly they sang together.

Country roads, take me home!

To the place I belong!

West Virginia, mountain mama,

Take me home, country roads!

Take me home, down country roads!!

With a final strum, the room erupted into cheers. While Dean winced from the volume, he couldn't help but let a sauve smile play on his lips. He glanced back at Twilight and found her staring at him with her mouth slightly agape. A quick nudge from Spike caused her to shake her head and madly blush. Dean chuckled.

As the room began to quiet down, Dean decided on what he would play next. A sudden thought popped into his mind, and a slightly downtrodden emotion seemed to overcome him. The next song he had in mind was one that his father had taught him. He strummed an A-minor, and once again the focus was on him. Dean let out a breath, and began the song. The haunting melody seemed to entrance the ponies present, and Dean even caught Gilda giving him her full attention. Noticing movement to his left, he watched as Colonel Graybeard and a few other Griffons slowly entered the room. They stood in the shadows and observed with keen interest.

We met in the springtime when blossoms unfold,

The pastures were green and the meadows were gold.

Memories once again surfaced into Dean's mind, and a single, unnoticeable tear slid down his cheek. He saw his wife and son as they played at the park. Their laughter seemed to be a dull echo of a time long past.

Our love was in flower as summer grew on,

Her love like the leaves now have withered and gone,

Dean saw his wife in the doorway, crying as he climbed into the humvee. He noticed his son staring at him from the second floor of the house, and a flash of lightning illuminated the tears crawling down his face. The same thing happened behind Dean as he played. A low rumble echoed from the windows, but he continued to strum.

The roses have faded, there's frost at my door,

The birds in the morning don't sing anymore.

The grass in the valley is starting to die,

And out in the darkness the whippoorwills cry...

Gripping the neck of the guitar firmly, Dean didn't register what the reactions of the observing people were seeing. He continued to play, lost inside his own mind.

Alone and forsaken by fate and by man,

Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand.

Oh, please understand...

Dean's teeth grit. He felt a pang in his heart as he thought of his home, and what was happening to it while he wasted time in ponyland. A foreign voice entered into his mind, goading him and telling him he had abandoned those he loved, and that he would never get home.

Oh, where has she gone to? Oh, where can she be?

She may have forsaken some other like me.

She promised to honor, to love, and obey,

Each vow was a plaything that she threw away.

A flash of lightning lit the room, and the rumble of thunder shook everyone present to the bones.

The darkness is falling, the sky has turned gray,

A hound in the distance is starting to bey.

I wonder, I wonder what she's thinking of,

Forsaken, forgotten without any love.

Launching into the final Chorus, The rhythm slowed. The original song had a continuous beat, and a slightly louder finish, but something in Dean's heart caused him to switch from what he knew. The sound lyrics coming from Dean seemed meek and small, something that the supersoldier was anything but.

Alone and forsaken by fate and by man,

Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand...

Dean blinked, and his voice was barely above a whisper. The room was silent as he said the last three words of the song, and with a final strum, he did just that.

Oh, please understand...

*****

Silence. Dead silence. Twilight held back tears as she watched Dean play the final chord. The note hung in the air like a cloud, and not a single being in that room could avert their eyes. How could they? Many saw the deadened look on their Sergeant's face, and knew that something within that song had hit him close to home.

Tearing her eyes from the man, she saw that it did with many others present. Many of the veteran's held a distant look in their eyes, and a sense of loss and foreboding seemed to hang above everyone's heads. Looking to the right, she could see that the lyrics had even impacted the new Griffon arrivals.

Hearing someone clear their throat, she turned her attention back towards the front of the room. She saw the saddened look on the Sergeants face, and deduced that he felt guilty for putting everyone in such a state of longing. With his fake cough, many eyes returned their focus to him.

"Alright, I think I have one more song, but I need to know what month it is."

"Monat des Herdes!" A Griffon suddenly called from the back of the room. Dean Deadpanned as he gestured towards the group in front of him.

"Anyone care to translate that?" Dean deadpanned as the Griffon's near the back snickered at his expense. A surprise came in the form of Twilight's voice calling out through the crowd.

"It means 'month of the hearth.' Meaning it is currently the month of December."

Surprised looks greeted her statement, and a few of the Griffons present began to mutter to one another. One particular Griffon turned and faced the Princess.

"You know 'igh-Imperial, little pony?" The bird's accent was quite thick, either Germanic or Italien, and Dean saw Twilight's wings ruffle at the name. The way the griffon spoke was downright mocking, and the man sucked in a breath at the look on his friend's face. A sneer took Twilight's features as she glared at the Griffon in irritation. The Griffon leered at her and merely raised an eyebrow.

"My mentor, Princess Celestia, taught me parts of the language in order to fully understand other cultures on this planet. As the Princess of Friendship, it only makes sense that I needed to learn the language in full. Ich mag zwar klein sein, aber mein Wissen ist im Vergleich zu Ihrer Unwissenheit großartig."

The Griffons' feathers ruffled, and his mouth flapped as he tried to come up with a retort. Dean watched as a smug look came over his friend, and she shook her head with a tsk. Finally, the Colonel put his claw on his subordinates shoulder and shook his head. The griffon grumbled something unintelligible, but crossed his arms and went silent. The Colonel gestured for Dean to continue. The man gave a nod and once more hoisted the guitar. He thought for a moment before a certain Christmas melody came to mind. It wasn't overly exciting or jovial, but it would do good to get rid of the somber atmosphere he had unintentionally created. With a quick strum, the man launched into the next song.

God rest ye merry gentlemen,

Let nothing you dismay.

Remember Christ our Savior,

Was born on Christmas Day!

To save us all from Satan's pow'r,

When we were gone astray,

Oh tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy,

Oh tidings of comfort and joy!

The group before him slowly began to get into the rhythm. If Dean had to hazard a guess, it was the reflective nature of the song that caused the ponies to stir. To go from a somber song immediately into jovial wouldn't have done well, especially with the mood he had put the room in. This particular song, one he used to play every Christmas, was a good transition. He didn't play too fast, nor too slow. The comforting, but solemn tone of the music was the perfect way to connect the group and give a little message of hope.

In Bethlehem, in Israel,

This blessed Babe was born.

And laid within a manger

Upon this blessed morn.

The which His Mother Mary,

Did nothing take in scorn,

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy,

Oh tidings of comfort and joy!

Fear not then, said the Angel,

Let nothing you affright.

This day is born a Savior,

Of a pure Virgin bright,

To free all those who trust in Him

From Satan's pow'r and might,

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Dean felt something nagging in his mind. Somehow, someway, this particular verse struck a chord within him. It appeared it did with the others as well, as they were swaying and some even quietly sang to themselves. looking towards the side, he saw Midnight and Spitfire staring at him with a look he couldn't place. He continued into the final verse.

God rest ye merry gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

Remember Christ our Savior

Was born on Christmas Day

To save us all from Satan's pow'r

When we were gone astray

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy

Oh tidings of comfort and joy...

Dean allowed the last chord to drum out, and a quiet, yet peaceful calm came over all present. He let a smile appear, before he quietly stood up and returned the guitar to its original spot. Upon coming back to the front of the de facto stage, he noticed that many hushed whispers were coming from the crowd. After nearly fifteen seconds, Dean heard a throat clear below him and to the left, and his eyes found those of an older stallion.

"Lad, what was the name of that song?"

Dean paused as a memory came to his mind. He could see a group of people, twelve in total, sitting around a tree. The fireplace offered a comforting warmth, and the smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the air. Out the window, Thick, but soft snow slowly descended. To his right sat Marie. On the couch with his two cousins sat Jaxon. Marie was happily singing along as he strummed the guitar. Dean gave a shaky breath.

"God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen. An older Christmas song I used to play for my... family." Dean's eyebrows scrunched together, and he noticed a sad look come from both Midnight and Twilight. For some reason, that made him a bit sour, and a small frown appeared. The stallion below him nodded in thanks.

"It was beautiful, well done."

With those final words, a round of respectful applause erupted. Dean forced a smile on his face and gave a short wave while Midnight quickly trotted up to the stage to address the crowd. Slowly but surely, Dean made his way through the sea of equins before coming to a spot beside Twilight. The moment he sat down, he felt her quickly lean into his side. Almost subconsciously, Dean lifted his arm and wrapped it around the pony, pulling her in close. Twilight gave a content hum as she nuzzled his chest. Looking down, Dean couldn't help but let a happy look enter his eyes along with a thin smile. It was quite adorable what the little Princess was doing.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

As Midnight addressed the crowd and concluded the night, Twilight suddenly shifted so that she was looking up at him. Glancing into her face, Dean raised an eyebrow before gently stroking her wither with his hand.

"Are you alright, Dean?" She quietly asked, catching the Human off guard.

The man seemed to almost freeze up, and a quiet breath of air escaped him as he slowly nodded his head. His eyes suddenly gained a far off look, and Twilight gently nuzzled his chest in order to get his attention. His eyes flicked back to her, and her ears wilted upon getting a better look at his face.

The best way to describe it was a dead look. People say that eyes are the gateway to the soul, and what Twilight saw was one that was tired. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. She continued to search his face, and a sad expression came across her own. Without warning, she gently climbed up and wrapped the Human in a hug, burying her muzzle into his shoulder.

Without hesitation, the man wrapped his arms around the mare and squeezed her back. Looking around showed him that others were oblivious to the display of affection, and Dean gave a sigh as he gently closed his eyes. Something inside him churned for some reason, but he couldn't quite place it. A sense of longing and sadness seemed to overwhelm his emotions, and it suddenly appeared that the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Dean wasn't one to back down, but he was now fighting a war on two fronts. One against the Elves, and one against his own mind.

He blinked, and he suddenly realized that a warm and fuzzy body was pushed up against his. Looking down, he could see the form of the Princess as she quietly breathed in and out, her bangs covering her eyes as she pressed against his shoulder. A sense of protectiveness suddenly overcame him then, and he gave her a gentle squeeze, just to tell her he was there.

After only a few more moments, Dean gently picked the Princess up and set her back onto his jacket that was laying beside him. At his movement, she looked up at him with a caring smile, one that he replicated.

"Thank you, Dean." She whispered, causing his expression to soften even more. It was two words, but they carried a heavy weight. Everything they had gone through, everything he had done to keep her safe. There wasn't anything more to say, because those two words were enough to convey what everyone present felt. Looking around, Dean could see the happy smiles and relaxed postures of many. When he had arrived, a tense feeling had been the overwhelming mood of the city around him. Now, there was one of hope, and a possibility of a future.

Once again Dean was reminded of his promise. He gently wrapped an arm around the Princess and pulled her close. Spike, who had glanced in their direction, raised an eyebrow and smirked before resuming his conversation with Zecora.

A quiet beep sounded, and Dean gently reached behind Twilight to pull his tac-pad out from the pocket of his jacket. The light it provided caught the attention of those immediately around them, but they soon turned away. He unlocked the device, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

"Excuse me Twilight, but I gotta get back to my fabricator. Once all this is wrapped up, could you send for Midnight?"

The purple mare nodded, though a confused look came over her as she scooted off his jacket. Her tail swished as she watched Dean slowly stand and shake the stiffness out of his legs. A small tinge of an ache seemed to make itself known in his thigh, and the man frowned as he waited for it to die down. Something like that was quite abnormal, and he couldn't help but feel a bit worried. First the nose bleed, and now this.

"Sure thing, Dean. What's going on though? Do you need my help?" He saw a sparkle in her eyes, and couldn't help but chuckle. Now that she mentioned it, her knowledge in the field of magic might actually be of use. He nodded his head.

"Sure. I could use the help."

With that, he began walking along the back of the room. The soldier's and other spectators were beginning to leave, some getting ready for duty, while others went back to their barracks. Dean was currently headed for the main entrance, and as he approached, he could hear the grunts of effort coming from around the corner.

Entering the large room, Dean wasn't surprised to find Iron Mallet and his son along with one of the door guards slowly rolling the massive boulder inside. It seemed to be a tedious effort for the three, as the boulder was shaped pretty awkwardly and seemed to be precariously balanced on the edge of the door frame. There was a bit of a drop from the outside, so Dean quickly walked up to the boulder and guided them through.

With his iron grip, he was easily able to pull the boulder inside before carefully setting it down with nary a sound. Turning around, he saw that the guard had returned to his post, and both the blacksmith and his son were wiping their brows. Dean gave them a smile.

"Thanks again guys. I'm gonna see what I can do with this. If all goes according to plan, and I am able to make a viable alloy from this hunk 'a rock, I'll show up at your forge around noon."

Iron Mallet nodded his head as a grin formed on his face.

"Sounds good, Sarge. Ah'll 'ave everfing ready for yah. If'n you can make this project o' yer's work, we can finally get one up on dose pesky Elves!" The pony chuckled, and so did Dean. With a final wave, the two metal-workers trotted out the door and into the night. There was a short period of silence before Dean heard the sounds of many voices approaching from the common room.

Walking around the boulder, Dean quickly set about rolling it towards his quarters. He dodged ponies as they entered into the main barracks, and more than a few gave him a curious look. Dean was undeterred as he moved the large boulder along the back of the room without a struggle. With his strength and incredible balance, he was able to make it to his room rather quickly. However, upon reaching his destination, he ran into a slight snag.

The boulder couldn't fit through the door.

Scratching the stubble on his chin, an idea suddenly came to Dean. He quickly walked into his room and came to his armor. Scorch marks, dried blood, and somewhat melted metal caused him to cringe, but it would have to do. While the damage looked bad, the fight with the Changelings hadn't really done anything harmful to the armor itself. A quick glance showed he would need to likely replace some of the spinal guards before heading home, but with such a short time frame to work with, the fixes would have to wait until after the attack on Canterlot.

Stepping in, Dean hummed as he was encased in his metal suit. A sense of comfort came over him as the super-soldier felt its familiar weight. While the armor did lighten itself with integrated systems, and Dean's own monstrous strength was more than enough to function should they fail, there was still a decent amount of mechanical weight. It was more natural than anything, as it was closer to the brain saying "This suit is an extension of you, but it isn't you."

Giving his right hand a squeeze, Dean brought his armored gauntlet level with his eyes. The alloy making up his armor was made up of many different components. He knew the two major ones were Compound-X and Titanium, but if he remembered correctly, there might have been steel somewhere in there too along with tungsten. In reality, he wasn't sure, but had no doubt the strength of his suit was what he needed for the coming task.

Dean stomped out of the room and squeezed past the boulder. He had donned his helmet, and analyzed the rock with a critical eye. He failed to notice the slight smatter of blood over the face shield.

Deciding to test something, he gave a quick mental command to his neural interface. There was a small glitch, which caused him to frown, but the targeting system he desired popped up in no time. A small section of the boulder down and to the right was highlighted a shade of green, so Dean reached forward and tilted the boulder so that the highlighted section was facing up.

"Dean?"

The man paused and turned towards the group of four standing to his left. Like a deer caught in headlights, the soldier stood there and stared at the Princess, Midnight, Colonel Graybeard, and Spike the Dragon.

"What are you doing?"

Those words seemed to snap him from his frozen state, and he slowly stood to his full height before turning and facing the group completely.

"Couldn't fit this thing through the door." He said stoically, his helmet causing an almost robotic sound to emit from the external speakers. He glanced at the Colonel, only to see the old bird was staring up at him in fascination. He decided to pay Graybeard little mind as he refocused his attention on the boulder. His shoulders' tensed, and his right foot dropped back as his arm wound back. A slight tinge of red appeared at the edge of his vision, but it was gone in an instant, and he failed to notice it.

"Dean I can just-" Twilight was interrupted when Dean's fist flashed through the air and smashed into the boulder with a mighty crack. A fissure split the rock in two, and almost in slow motion, the two halves slid away from each other. The Human shook his hand slightly, a small sting the only tell that he had even used physical force.

Turning back to the group, he saw their jaws had collectively dropped. While they stood in stupefaction, he picked up one half of the Null-stone and pushed it into the room with little effort. The grinding sound caused the small group to wince and fold their ears, Midnight was especially affected and he let out a small whine of discomfort.

Colonel Graybeard, instead of letting the noise affect him, decided to help. With two steps and a mighty heave, the Griffon commander raised the half-boulder in his claws and carried it into the room without so much as a blink. Turning, Dean was pleasantly surprised to see the Colonel's feat of strength, and had to give him credit where it was due. A piece that size would have been incredibly difficult for a Human to simply carry, and the Colonel made it look like nothing.

'Then again, I don't think it affects him as Nullstone absorbs magic. I wonder if Griffons even have magic?'

Sliding the question to the back of his mind, Dean gave a gratefully nod as the Colonel set the half beside Dean's. Right next to the fabricator. Without sparing a word, Dean walked over to the device in question and sat down before its control panel.

Detecting his presence, the holographic screen flashed in front of him and bathed the room in a soft orange glow. The Colonel watched without a word, his eyes zeroed in on Dean's activities with wide eyes. The rest of the group entered, but they remained quiet as Dean worked.

From Dean's perspective, his eyebrows scrunched together as he typed away. He was never a tech-wizz, that was more Jenkins' forte, but he could manage. He scrolled through the list of options on the main hub of the device, and finally found what he was looking for. The second last option was a scanner that identified a given material and showed what the fabricator could turn it into.

Upon hitting 'Scan', a red strobe laser flashed from the end of the fabricator and quickly passed over the rock. It was fast enough that if one were to blink, they would miss the process entirely. Feeling a presence over him, Dean turned his head slightly and found everyone was almost literally hanging over his shoulder. He could feel Twilight's breath on his ear, and a tingle went up his spine. It smelled like peppermint, and the Human suddenly had a craving for some toasty hot chocolate.

Dean was about to politely demand they back up slightly when a flashing red icon appeared on the screen. Dean immediately- leaned in and hummed in annoyance.

//

List of Materials include:

UNKNOWN (Materials Classified)

NICKEL

GRANITE

Manual override required by certified personnel to access classified database...

Username:

Password:

//

Dean was stumped. He stared at the screen as still as a statue, and a headache was once more beginning to form. He subconsciously reached up to rub his temple, but a jolt seemed to pass through him, and his hand froze. A cool breeze entered through the covered hole in the room, and he heard the others shiver.

Quickly coming to a decision, Dean backed out of the screen and typed into the search function. The others couldn’t see what he was typing, but his fingers flashed across the screen as he tried to find whatever it was he was looking for. He selected the first option on the list, and mentally crossed his fingers it was the right choice. Dean stood from his spot, causing the others to back away.

"Sorry for ignoring you all, but I was a bit excited to try this experiment of mine." He walked back over to the corner of the room, and a quick mental command later, and his suit began to peel from his body. Midnight and Twilight went and sat in the center of the room, and Spike hopped onto his bed before passing out. Dean hardened his features in order to keep his thoughts from how cute the little dragon was all curled up.

"It's alright Sergeant, I merely came to let you know my plan before heading off."

The Colonel stood off to the side, and the moment Dean was out of his armor, he gave a sigh.

"Let's hear it, Colonel, it's pretty late, and I'm sure you and your soldier's need your beauty sleep."

Dean's comment caused the Colonel's feathers to ruffle along with a huff that seemed more akin to a concealed chuckle. Never in a million years would Dean try that against a superior officer, and he was well aware of the breach in protocol. However, he realized they were all tired, and figured a small banter wouldn't hurt. His risk paid off as the Colonel merely shook his head.

"If I was your commanding officer, I would have you running two-hundred laps around the fort. However, with you only having two legs, it would take until noon two days from now to finish."

There was a tense silence for a moment, Midnight looking at the two with a bit of fear, before both the Human and the Griffon's abrupt laughter filled the room. Dean shook his head and gestured towards the Colonel, his laughter abating enough to get some words in. Dean's expression suddenly became stern, and the Griffon noticed this immediately. His own chuckles died down, and he faced the man with a straight and attentive look.

"So what do you think, Colonel? We have six days left to conduct the invasion, and I need to know how you are going to help. Have you already talked to General Blight?" For whatever reason, Dean suddenly became aware that his words this last half hour had been a lot lighter and somewhat jovial. He suspected the music show he put on had something to do with it, but he wasn't going to complain. After singing those songs, a small weight had been lifted from him. He didn't know what it was, but so long as it helped him, it was fine.

Watching the Colonel as he donned his jacket, Dean went about idly organizing the various trinkets and explosives sitting on his desk. His Fabricator had been busy while he was away, and it seemed that Steel Mallet had kept delivering supplies while he was gone. Quite a few grenades, flashbangs, and about ten more walkie-talkies were laying before him. Giving an idle hum, Dean calculated that he could get maybe two or three sets of armor completed by tomorrow.

With his jacket on, the Colonel went silent as a tired look entered his eyes. His wings seemed to droop along with his demeanor. He opened his beak, closed it once, looked at the other two ponies present, and sighed. Finally, he spoke.

"Sergeant, I think you should know that victory doesn't seem likely in this scenario. There aren't enough soldiers here at Maritime Bay, and my people likely won't be able to render aid. The entire Elven war machine is in our lands, and the situation is growing helpless by the day." The Colonel walked over to Dean's set of armor and stared up at it. Its imposing height and menacing appearance caused the old bird to shiver slightly. A feeling of power radiated from the seemingly inanimate object, and upon closer inspection, he could see the scratches, burns and dents that accumulated on its surface. Graybeard shook his head and faced the others. "From my point of view, this mission is suicide."

Those words hung in the air like an executioner's axe. Twilight and Midnight both gulped, and the former glanced at Dean with fear in her eyes. Dean, for his part, didn't so much as move. The only sign he was alive was the rise and fall of his chest as he stared blankly ahead.

The man shuffled suddenly on his feet, and the three occupants of the room seemed to collectively shudder. Spike gave a quiet snore as he turned and faced the wall. A hard look suddenly came over the Sergeant as his fist clenched down on a piece of rock he was holding. The object shattered in his grip, and he didn't so much as wince from the debris that scratched and stuck into his palm.

After another moment of silence, Dean finally spoke; his words came out in a growl as his eyes narrowed.

"If we don't do this, then it won't matter either way." Dean began picking the shards from his hand without glancing down, for his gaze was on the Colonel. "If we don't do a preemptive strike, the Emperor will send in his armies and overwhelm Maritime Bay. He will stop at nothing to get his hands on Twilight, and we don't have the defensive capability to stop them. There isn't anywhere left to hide the Princess, as the Elves control nearly the entire world. The only other way to deny the Elves victory," he looked pointedly at Twilight, "is to have her killed. And I will be cold in the ground before I let that happen." His voice suddenly became a low snarl as images flashed through his head. Anger coursed through him. He would not let her die.

The Colonel stared at Dean in thought. From a strategic standpoint, attacking the Emperor was suicide. But what choice did they have? They couldn't hide her anywhere, and they didn't have time to mount a proper defense. Now that he thought about it, Graybeards' mind began strategizing for ways to form an attack. If a head on assault was the ultimatum, then he would need to help plan for it.

"I have an idea." Graybeard finally spoke, his posture showing an air of authority. The hard gaze the Human was giving him suddenly lightened, and his posture stiffened to attention. The griffon inwardly smirked to himself, but kept a straight, pondering face on the outside.

"Go ahead, Colonel. We need as much help as we can get, and your input will be invaluable." Graybeard raised an eyebrow at that comment and took a closer look at the Sergeant. Assuming what he had heard was true, this Human was from another world. He was a super-soldier of sorts, but looking at his rank, the Colonel realized the man likely had little experience leading a force larger than fifty. He deduced it was from skill alone that he had gotten this far, but if the stakes were as high as they were told, then his comment made sense. Looking deeper, the Colonel suddenly saw something in the Human's eyes. It was there for merely a second, but that was all it took for him to understand.

Sergeant Dean was afraid.

The pieces fell into place then, and glancing at the Princess to his side, he finally realized what the man feared most. He had failed to keep Twilight safe once, and he had heard Gilda's report on the Princess attempted suicide a mere three hours ago. It was obvious the Human cared for Twilight, and he would have to be blind not to have noticed her star-stricken eyes that were constantly on Dean. He was scared of losing her, and it didn't help that the fate of the world depended on her not being captured. Now that Shining was gone, the man was desperate for help, and Graybeard was more than willing to give it.

Graybeard sat down and drummed his claws against the floor.

"Alright. As you know, I had orders to return to my homeland to report the situation here in Equestria. Once I return, I will gather as many soldiers as I can spare, and bring them back in time for the invasion in four days. That is the first plan. However, I will be leaving my guard here in the event I don't make it back on time. In the case of this happening, you and the Equestrians are to mount an assault on the Elves, and myself and my troops will make haste to reinforce you. In the event that hope seems to be lost, we will return to Maritime Bay and attempt to hide the Princess." Graybeard paused in his rambling and glanced at the Alicorn to his right. A sad look came over him as he gave a sigh. He turned back to Dean. "If we are unable to do that, then as a last resort we will need to have the Princess killed so she does not fall into the Elven hands."

There was a heavy silence as Dean's face fell and his features darkened once more. He, along with Midnight, opened their mouths to voice their protest, but a purple magical barrier formed around both their mouths. Surprised looks came across them as they turned their attention to Twilight, her horn lit and a tired expression in her eyes. When both the soldiers closed their mouths, she deactivated her magic and looked at the two of them. After a moment of pause, her eyes found the Colonel's.

"That will be a last resort, but if it comes to it, then I will voice no opposition. The world is at stake, and if it means I must be sacrificed to ensure the Elves cannot win, then so be it." She turned to Dean and Midnight, and a smile graced her lips. "I am so happy that both of you care so much for my well being. You both were with me from the start, and I cannot express enough thanks for that. However, what the Colonel says is true: in the event that all else fails, then I cannot be allowed to live. It is a sacrifice that needs to be made."

She nodded to the Colonel, who nodded in return. His gaze switched back to the Human and the Pegasus, and a look of understanding seemed to radiate from him. He knew how important the Princess was, especially for these two. But sometimes, sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.

"Remember, this is only if everything else fails. We will not let it come to that, and we will end the war, but it's better to have a plan and not need it, than to not have a plan and suffer the consequences. Now, I must depart post-haste if I am to gather my forces in time for the invasion. The storm has stopped, and the skies should be clear across the waters. I will see you all in five days, and we will finally put an end to the cursed war."

With those final words, the Colonel turned and stalked out of the room, leaving the two ponies, Human, and the sleeping Dragon. After a few seconds of silence, Midnight gave a sigh.

"I'm gonna head out and find Spitfire. Let me know if you guys need anything, and we'll come running."

As the lithe black Pegasus trotted out the door, Dean slowly sunk to the floor against the wall beside his Fabricator. His eyes held a thousand yard stare as he gazed at the stone ceiling above him; his body was in the room, yet his mind was elsewhere.

There was a gentle clop of hooves, before a sudden wait lay across his legs and leaned into his chest. He blinked when he felt two arms around his body, and upon looking down, he saw his wife. Her gaze was one of longing, and he could smell the lavender in her hair. He reciprocated the smile as his right arm snaked around behind her and pulled her close. He heard a happy murmur as she snuggled into his chest, and his smile grew. He could see the large and forest filled park around them. The sun shone down from above, and the sounds of kids playing and birds chirping were like musical notes in his ears. A gentle breeze caught his attention, and he calmly looked towards the forest to his left.

Two beady red-hued eyes stared back at him.

Dean could see a shape moving in the forest, and all the sounds around him seemed to grow quiet. It was uncanny, and Dean felt as though he was in immediate danger. Goosebumps crawled up his arms and neck, and his breathing began to pick up as his adrenaline started kicking in.

Looking down, he saw now that it was Twilight in his grasp, and not Marie. He was confused for all of a second, before a cry of pain and fear echoed around him. Looking up, his eyes widened in horror.

Marie had been snagged by a tentacle, which had appeared from the blackened shape, and was dragging her across the ground towards the forest. Another cry caught Dean's attention, and upon turning his head, his parental instincts kicked in. He tried to get up, to stand, but he was rooted in place. He could only watch helplessly as Jaxon was flung through the air much like his mother. His cries for help were like the screeches of a banshee, and his eyes bore into his father's, pleading to be saved.

Dean tried once more to stand, and pain erupted in his head. He did not cry out in pain, as he would be distracted from trying to save his family. It wasn't until he felt a small tug that he realized what was holding him in place.

Looking down, he saw Twilight's bright and happy smile as she held him in place. She rubbed her head into his side, and stared at him with love-struck eyes. He heard her whisper the words 'I love you,' and he desperately wanted to say them back. The urge was nearly overwhelming, and he almost forgot that his family was in danger.

A cry of pain, and the sounds of bones snapping caused his head to jolt away from the Alicorn, and he watched in horror and disgust as Marie was bitten clean in half by the monster gaping maw. He screamed, but no noise came forth. Tears poured from his eyes as he desperately fought to get free, but his body wouldn't budge. A coldness seeped into his heart as he turned back to Twilight and began trying to pry her off.

It was as though he was once more a regular Human, and an attempt at lifting an aircraft carrier would have been easier than trying to relinquish her hold on him. He cried out as Marie's head was crushed like a watermelon under a hammer, and a piece of his soul felt as though it had been ripped out. His eyes widened upon seeing his son was about to suffer the same fate. If he got free now, he would be able to save him.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Dean screamed then, his desperation only making the little alicorn hug him like a vise. He stopped his struggling and reached an arm out towards Jaxon, as though he could will the tentacles to let go. It was for nought, and his only son was decapitated before his eyes.

Then the whispering began.

'She wants you for herself...'

'You will never be able to save them...'

'Give up your mission, kill the Emperor and return home...'

'You can keep them from dying, but only you can do it...'

'Your family will die...'

Time seemed to stand still as he stared down at the little Alicorn wrapped around him. Betrayal was an emotion he hadn't experienced in a very, very long time, but it was the dominating emotion he felt as he looked into those large Lavender eyes.

Then Dean blinked.

The forest was now gone, and he found himself sitting once more on hard stone. He felt breathing to his left, along with a pressure, and he soon realized he was being hugged. Ever so slowly, he looked down. He didn't betray a single emotion as the fading sound of his family's screams echoed away into the depths of his mind. He could only stare at the little pony laying against him.

As if she knew she was being watched, Twilight looked up and gave the man a sincere smile, but that quickly faded away upon seeing his expression, or lack thereof.

"Dean? You look like you've seen a ghost, are you okay?"

Without saying a word, he raised his hand. He watched as Twilight's eyes tracked his arm and its slow, unsure movements. His hand shook as he gently rested it around her neck. How easy it would be to cut off her airways before quickly snapping the bones in her vertebrae. She wouldn't so much as make a peep as the life left her. She would have a look that asked him why he had done it, and he would have no answer. He likely wouldn't be able to live with himself after, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the P23 sitting on the nightstand. His arm tensed.

Dean gave a shaky sigh, and slowly dragged the little Equine onto his lap. She was facing him, and he slowly wrapped her in a hug. She accepted the embrace, and the two just sat there. Dean felt a sense of panic welling in his throat, and he wanted to do nothing but sob. Or was it scream? He didn't know, for he had never felt such emotions in so long. He could see faces in the shadows surrounding the room, sneering at him and yelling into his mind. His breathing grew labored, and his face felt clammy. He felt Twilight suddenly squeeze him, and his whole body seemed to lock up. His breathing seemed to cease along with his movements, and for a fleeting moment Dean's emotions were seen across his face. Dark, almost purple bags hung under his eyes, and it looked as though wrinkles were forming along his cheeks and near his mouth. The man suddenly seemed to age an extra fourty years, and he felt his eyes drooping from exhaustion. He hadn't slept in nearly five days, and ever since arriving into this world, everything had felt.... wrong. It seemed so surreal to him. He was helping magical Equins defeat fantastical Elves, who pillaged and enslaved the inhabitants of this world. He had talked to a being of immense power, who could no longer help him after he countered another being's attack on his psyche. His target was a magical opponent of unknown power, and some kind of monster was terrorizing his dreams. He felt like a character in a book, but not in a good way. Maybe it was a test from God, or maybe he was the pawn of some other fucked up reason. The existence of the Guardian already insinuated the existence of a Multiverse of sorts, so who was he to question what was in charge of this screwed up world.

The world was on his shoulders, literally. It was up to him whether an incomprehensible evil was unleashed, or whether the forces of light lived to fight another day. He was dragged from one war into a new one, with new rules. It was sheer luck and his refusal to back down that had kept him alive so far, but he knew that wouldn't be enough. The stakes were officially too high, now, and a single mistake could spell the end of existence as he knew it.

"Want to talk about it?"

Dean glanced down and saw that Twilight's eyes were on him once more, and her look of concern was enough to snap him back to reality.

He was acting weak, and RSTF Operators were anything but. He had a mission to finish, and he couldn't afford to break down and contemplate the going ons of the universe. He was here, and he had his mission. Failure was not an option. Dean's face became like a brick wall, but he gently began stroking Twilight's mane in order not to seem angry at her.

"No, thank you. I'm alright. There's just a lot on my mind, Purplesmart." Dean smirked as Twilight snorted in mock offense.

"Alright, keep your secret meat-for-brains. I swear, you stallions are all the same. Gotta be big and tough." She tried to change her expression into a no-nonsense scowl, but with her ears folded back and her lips jutted out, Dean couldn't help but laugh. Twilight's scowl turned to a pout as she looked away from the man, only causing him to ruffle her mane. She gave a squawk of indignation, and Dean smirked.

"You're adorable."

Those two words caused Twilight's cheeks to explode into a blush, and she stuttered as she tried to come up with a response. She could hear him snickering, and her blush only deepened. In retaliation, the little Princess stuffed her face into Dean's shirt in the hopes of him not looking at her. Her embrace on him tightened, and the man scratched under her ear. She gave a coo of appreciation and nuzzled his chest with her eyes closed.

"You are only proving my point."

"Shaddup, this is nice."

*****

Two hours. That is how long Sergeant Dean stood in front of the mirror in the washroom. It was currently midnight, and the Human couldn't get a wink of sleep. Monsters chased his subconscious, and the horrible laughter of that beast rattled between his ears like an old grandfather clock.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock...

As the seconds ticked away, Sergeant Dean's reflection began to morph into grotesque shapes, and the contours of his face twisted into nightmarish visages. His once stern and disciplined countenance now bore the weight of unseen horrors. Shadows danced across the dimly lit room, and the Sergeant's eyes, bloodshot from fatigue, betrayed a mixture of fear and confusion. He could only stare at the sight, and for a moment, he felt the creeping chill of someone's breath on the back of his neck.

The single, dull candle lighting the washroom flickered intermittently, casting eerie shadows that seemed to elongate and contort with every passing moment. The air felt thick with an otherworldly tension, as if the room itself harbored the malevolent whispers that echoed in the recesses of Dean's troubled mind. Unfamiliar whispers taunted him, promising revelations that would plunge him deeper into the abyss of his own subconscious. They spoke of his family, his son and his wife. They spoke of fire and blood, and the sounds of betrayal. They spoke of his weakness, and his failures.

As the mirror continued to play tricks on him, Sergeant Dean's hands trembled as he subconsciously reached out to touch the glass. The surface yielded an unnatural warmth, and his fingertips traced the outlines of the monstrous apparitions that seemed to be clawing their way into his reality. The laughter, now an unholy chorus, reverberated through the sergeant's skull, creating a dissonant symphony of dread. His reflection followed him, but he swore he could feel something other than smooth glass. It felt as though if he so much as blinked, his reflection would grab him and drag him into the darkness. Dean began to sweat, for he could definitely feel the breathing now. It brought with it a horrid stench, and the mirror began fogging up in front of his eyes.

'Failure.'

'Weak.'

'Pathetic.'

In a desperate attempt to break free from the clutches of his torment, Dean turned away from the mirror, but the haunting reflections persisted in the corners of his vision. Shadows clung to the edges of his peripheral, and the room itself seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy. The sergeant's breath quickened, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he grappled with the surreal nightmare unfolding before him. He refused to turn anymore, for he knew he would come face to face with the monster bearing down on him. But he could not turn back to the mirror for it would reveal the nightmare his mind refused to believe.

Unable to endure the psychological onslaught any longer, Sergeant Dean stumbled backward, collapsing onto the cold tile floor. The mirror, now a gateway to his fractured psyche, continued to warp and twist, revealing glimpses of unspeakable horrors that lurked within. In the oppressive silence of the midnight hour, the Sergeant found himself trapped between the realms of reality and his own unraveling sanity. He covered his face with his arms and curled up on the floor. His sobs echoing in the enclosed room. No one could hear him, and no one could help him. He was alone, and he could not win. He could hear the laughter fading in the air, and he could sense a presence leaving the room. He continued to lay there, unmoving as he tried to reign in his own mind, but it wasn't working. It felt as though a wall was breaking inside him, and he couldn't stop seeing the faces. Not of his wife and son, but of him. The reflection showed what he was becoming, and how this world was affecting him. He needed to get home before he was trapped here forever.

That was when a familiar piercing scream echoed through his mind

In an instant, Dean was on his feet. Time seemed to slow as he bodied the locked door and crashed into the hallway. There was no other movement around him, and for a moment Dean scowled at the thought that no one was bothering to check on the Princess.

Whether they helped or not was not his concern right now, and so he took off down the hallway before he came to the door beside his own. He skidded to a stop, brought his leg up, and smashed the door open with a mighty kick. The screaming had stopped by this point, and he instead heard the sounds of weeping.

Instantly taking in his surroundings, Dean found Spike wasn't present. He briefly recalled the drake was spending the night with Lucy. He could see Twilight under the covers of her own bed, but he could not detect anything amiss. Even though his senses told him there were no intruders, he decided to double check. The man stalked around the room and checked every nook and cranny. At some point, Midnight had galloped in to see what the noise was, but upon seeing Dean there, he quickly left to put the barracks at ease. There was no doubt that Dean's actions had woken quite a few people.

Finally, with visual confirmation that everything was alright, Dean quickly closed the door to the room before he made his way to Twilight's bed.

"Twilight? Twilight, what's wrong??" Dean slowly peeled the sheets off the Princess, and upon seeing her sorry state, his expression immediately softened. He quickly scooped her up in his arms and sat on the bed. Rocking her back and forth, Twilight sobbed into his shoulder. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and ever so slowly, the purple Princess finally began to calm.

Looking down, he caught Twilight staring up at him with fearful eyes. No words needed to be said, and Dean just smiled down at her to show it was alright.

Ears drooping, Twilight sniffled and looked anywhere but Dean. She saw that her sound cancelling spell had been broken. It was an old habit of hers from her time in the forest. The Dark Elves had very good hearing along with other natural predators. Whenever she was trying to sleep while camouflaged, she would use that spell as a means to stay hidden. She could hear outside the spell, but others couldn't hear inside.

"D-Dean?"

The man had pulled her close into another hug, but hearing her speak caused him to gently ease her back. She looked up into his eyes once more, and a pleading gaze caught the man off guard. Her eyes were watery, and her lip trembled. If not for the obvious distress she was in, Dean would have called it cute.

"Will you stay with me tonight, please?" She hated how desperate she sounded, but she needed someone nearby. Her nightmares were getting worse, and they kept flashing between the loss of her friends, the murder of those she loved, and the Queen as she had her way with her. She could feel the whips, the punches, and the ovipositor as it snaked its way inside her. The only difference was Dean was not there to save her in those dreams. She was never rescued, and her insides were brutally torn apart as she screamed and cried for mercy.

There was a moment of hesitation, but she caught Dean nodding his head ever so slightly. She immediately lunged forward and wrapped him in a hug, and she began to shudder as her emotions nearly came spilling out once more. It was literally by Dean's hand stroking her mane that she managed to keep it in. She felt safe as he lay down and rested an arm over her body. She scooted backwards so that she was curled up like a spoon, and she felt his chin on the top of her head just behind her horn. A feeling of relief swept through her, and she shivered when his hand scratched her belly absentmindedly.

"C-Can you sing me a song, Dean?"

There was another pause before he hummed in acknowledgement. Their surroundings were quiet as moonlight spilled in through the window and onto the bottom of the bed. A comforting breeze fluttered through her mane, and the first words of Dean's song graced her ears.

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone,

All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity,

Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind. Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea,

All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind,

don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind,

Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind....

As Dean's song came to a close, Twilight's eyes finally dropped closed. Her breathing relaxed, and finally fell into a deep, nightmare-less sleep.

Dean stared at the wall for a few moments, but the same could not be said for him. Sleep simply wouldn't come, and a hint of fear seemed buried in the recesses of his mind. A feeling in his gut told him that these next few days would be a challenge the likes he had never seen before.

And so, as he prepared to get comfortable in preparation for the haunting images and memories, he mentally flicked his middle finger at whoever was watching.

"I won't let you win." he half whispered, half snarled before going silent.

For the next six hours, Dean was left with nothing but his thoughts and the growing fear that his world was crumbling around him.