The mattress springs squeaked again as their occupant twisted again on top of them. The sharp squeal contrasted with the unhelpfully relaxing soft jazz coming from the glowing tablet on the nightstand. Bacon Bits groaned, shoving her face in her pillow. Any time she needed to sleep, any time she needed to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning, slumber would always be right out of reach until a few hours before she had to get up. This was especially true when she had to travel. She had tried every trick she knew to get to sleep, from reading, to covering herself completely with her bedding, to kicking all her bedding off and subsequently putting it all back on a minute later. She was even tempted to crawl to the kitchen and pour herself a glass or two of the bottle of cider she kept tucked away, but her brain was still annoyingly rational enough to realize that would just make the morning more unpleasant than it was already looking to be._

And so she had finally come to music. Well, music wasn’t quite accurate. Noise would be better. She had flipped from channel to channel, from supposedly relaxing thunderstorms, to gentle babbling waterfalls and streams, to traditional Yakyakistan Chanting, to tones which claimed to make your horn grow three inches – something that could prove interesting for the notably hornless earth-pony. She had at last arrived to a stream of smooth jazz, and it wasn’t helping.

Bacon Bits was just starting to reevaluate the benefits of hard cider hangovers when her bedroom door creaked open, and a small bespectacled head poked in.

“Bitth?”

Bacon turned her head and saw her door open a little more. Twist stood halfway in her doorway, one hand on the doorknob, unsure if it should let go. She wore a large oversized blue t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy magenta socks, two things formerly belonging to Bacon but had somehow found their way into Twist’s wardrobe. She also wore a worried expression, her wide purple eyes clearly wondering if this was a bad time.

“Hey Twister.” Bacon patted the bed beside her and Twist took the invitation, coming in and clambering up on the bed, before kneeling next to the red-haired mare.

“You’re up kinda late, don’t you think?” Bacon reached up to boop her little cousin’s snoot, but wasn’t met with the usual giggle. That wasn’t good.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?”

In answer, Twist threw herself at Bacon’s chest, wrapping her arms around her as best she could and knocking the wind out of the older pony with a breathy “Umph!”

“You’re coming back, right?” Twist pulled her head up enough to look at Bacon, eyes glistening.

“Kiddo, of course I’m coming back!” Bacon wheezed, still catching her breath. “It’s just going to be a couple weeks, I promise.”

Twist still didn’t look completely convinced, but her grip loosened enough for Bacon’s lungs to work again. Seizing the opportunity, Bacon gently pushed Twist up off her chest. Bacon pulled her own legs up and Twist leaned back, resting on them. It was a favorite seat of the filly for years, though as the years went by it had become noticeably less comfortable for Bacon. Still, Twist was light enough to not completely crush her, so for now the chair remained open.

Bacon took Twist’s hands, cupping them in her own. “It’s the one time of the year the Minotaurs sell their mint sauce to outsiders. If I can get some, that could really put my place on the map! And then… I could stay for waaaay longer. How’s that sound? Is that a good deal?”

The filly thought it over. A few weeks was a long time, but it would lead to Bacon staying in Ponyville even longer, and that was a tempting offer.

“Okay.” Twist answered with a reluctant nod, finally giving her permission. She didn’t look happy, but she wasn’t nearly as distressed as she had been a minute ago. Bacon gently squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“I’ll be back before you know it. I promise. Now,” Bacon turned to her clock, the bright blue letters reading 1:36. “Let’s hit the hay. We’ve got to get you back to Aunt Trissie in the morning, unless you want to be a stow-away.” Bacon grinned, before realizing Twist was actually considering it.

“Could we?” She asked hopefully.

“That was a joke, kiddo. Besides, your mom would kill us if we did that. Now come on…” Bacon made to lift the little girl off her bed before a thought struck her.

“Hey, you don’t want to stay in here tonight, do you?” At that, Twist offered her a genuine smile

“Can I?”

“It might get a little cozy, but-”

But Twist was already climbing off and settling into her side of the bed. Or at least her side of the bed now. Bacon laughed to herself and pulled the covers down, and they settled in properly before she pulled them back in. Twist scooted over to her cousin and wrapped her arms around her again, this time far more gently. She sighed happily, the warmth already lulling her off. Gingerly, Bacon pulled her glasses off and set them on the bedside table. Twist had a terrible habit of not taking them off before bed and had woken with a bent frame more than a few times.

Placing the glasses down and turning the lamp off, Bacon returned Twist’s vice-like hug and pulled her closer, cuddling her gently. She finally found a sleep-aid that worked, and before long, drifted off to sleep as well.

***

Been a while since Bacon Bits came out, as has Twist. So have the two again, Twist lending her peppermint-smelling cuddliness in Bacon’s hour of need. Were we all so fortunate.