Note: Hello, my friends, my friends, hello! I guess you can tell what I've been watching. Yes, I admit, whenever I'm depressed or on edge (which is becoming rather common), I tend to dabble in things from my childhood. This time, the Land Before Time series struck me and struck me hard. I ended up watching a few of the movies, episodes of the TV show, and some clips of the original movie, as I can't find it online. I noticed a comment on one video that read as this: why don't any of these kids have PTSD? They straight up murdered a guy! Oh Don Bluth, you dark minded son of a gun. That's why I love you so. Which got me to thinking: these are young children that have faced many life threating situations, lost family members, AND were being continuously stalked by a crazed T-Rex throughout their journey. I'd think I'd need to check into some therapy. Plus, I got to reading about Sharptooth himself, and believe it or not, in the novelization of the movie, he's even WORSE! In the junior novel, he's basically portrayed as a serial killer with a superiority complex, and it makes it clear that he's hunting the characters out of nothing but petty revenge. Ducky, Petrie, and Spike are on the hit list solely because they are associated with Cera and Littlefoot, and he sickly toys with them for fun. Not to mention, when he finds the entrance to the Great Valley, it says he 'sniffed the air with evil joy'. Yeah…this got me thinking, which got me to writing this. I might write something more lighthearted (I may have to with how dark this is) of this series in the future, but please tell me what you think of this!

Land Before Time © of Universal

He stood, mouth agape and deep brown eyes widened to their capacity. They had found it: through dehydrated lands and burning mountains, they had finally found it! The lush, fertile landscape before Littlefoot was indeed the land his dearly departed mother spoke of, both in body and in spirit, the land they all had hoped and prayed for.

Speaking of the others…

"Cera, Ducky, Petrie, Spike! Over here!" the young Apatosaurus shouted, his ears eagerly anticipating the growing volume of their footsteps, soon to be by his side to view the paradise they had struggled for.

Nothing.

"Guys?" he called again, going closer to the rock tunnel he had just exited, his sense of sight now searching for any sign of his four companions.

THUMP…THUMP…

Footsteps. His eyes grew wide. While a spark of excitement filled his entire being for a second, the large, all encompassing shadow gliding across the rock wall having only for it to malform and deteriorate into the purest, more primal variety of fear possible. Whatever splinters of the young child's mind that hadn't been consumed by dread and apprehension began to piece together some shreds of hopeful scenarios. He couldn't fit through the tunnel…it was too small. Maybe the others were merely hiding from him…yet why would they? They…HE knocked HIM into the water! He's sitting at the bottom of the lake, drowned and dead! There was no way that he could-

Whatever possibility Littlefoot could process next was quickly made of no worth as the tunnel's top split open, the creature dwelling inside being set free. The deep green, one-eyed Tyrannosaurus Rex roared, deafening the Longneck's ears before he found the good sense to duck behind some nearby rocks. Sharptooth sniffed the air, his nostrils taking in the various variety of scents emitted by the dwellers of the lush, green valley, a sickening smile curling onto his lips. Before Littlefoot could even get a word out to protest, the behemoth predator, completely unnaturally, leapt high into the air, a resounding echo of the force of his landing resonating throughout the entire plain, seemingly almost every creature present in the Great Valley ceasing whatever they were preoccupied with and eyeing the intruder with the same terror that had gripped Littlefoot.

"NO! STOP-" the Apatosaurus screamed, he loosing his footing and tumbling down the rocky terrain, the jagged stones bruising and cutting through his dry, scaly skin on the way down.

It took a few moments for his vision to return to him, yet upon having it once again, he wished he hadn't. Sharptooth was going on a rampage, his large, vicious maw chomping down and tearing through various denizens of the Valley, the once green land being bathed in freshly released, hot and wet coat of red. The expression on the Tyrannosaurus's face made it all the more horrific: his large snout was twisted into a tooth bearing, gleeful grin. Littlefoot even noticed that he was not even stopping to consume his kills; he went onto slaughter the next hapless dinosaur that came into his line of sight after the one he was currently preoccupied with fell by his jaws. He was eviscerating these creatures for the sheer pleasure of seeing them die.

He believed he couldn't take anymore, until two large, fallen forms caught his eye. "Grandma! Grandpa!"

Upon hearing the young child's anguished, yet all-too-familiar screams, Sharptooth turned to see the trembling, sobbing Apatosaurus slowly backing against the rocky cliff he had fallen from, the carnivore's smile growing even larger as he approached the little pest that had managed to blind him not just a day before. Not only did he just score a fantastic sporting ground, but now his vengeance could be taken as well! Littlefoot's eyes watered, the Tyrannosaurus Rex slowly yet steadily approaching him, well aware he had nowhere to go or run to.

"M-Mother! Help me!" he hollered, his legs giving out from under him and he now almost seemingly kneeling before the massive predator, tears continually streaming down his cheeks.

Sharptooth's grin ceased for a moment, he sporting a confused expression. Yet this only bought the young Longneck just a few more spare seconds as the carnivore leaned down towards him, white fangs lined in rows glistening with red.

Then something met Littlefoot's ears that he didn't fathom even being possible.

"She can't help you now."

He spoke; he had a voice…Littlefoot wished he hadn't. The voice emitting from that large, muscular throat sent tremors down the Apatosaurus's spine. He didn't think such a voice could exist, such a cold, horrid, nearly demonic in nature, low and raspy, savoring the terror he was giving him.

Then, he lunged forward, jaws open and ready to capture their prey.

"AHHHH!"

Littlefoot shrieked, eyes wide open and face contorted in fear. What met his eyes was not the hot, wet throat of the predator, but the calm, starlit sky of the Great Valley, the greenery still surrounding him, completely untouched with any drop of red.

"A dream…just…just a dream…" he weakly croaked, not even fighting the streams of fresh, hot tears exiting his eyes.

"Littlefoot?" he heard an aged, male voice ask, his Grandpa lifting his head to see his grandson greatly distressed.

"Oh, Littlefoot…" cooed his Grandma, the elderly Longneck gently rubbing her head against his far smaller, trembling form. "What's wrong dear?"

"I…I'm sorry…" he whimpered, sniffing. "I…I didn't mean to wake you…"

The couple looked to each other, nothing needing to be said before each came to the same conclusion. "Did you have a bad sleep story?" Grandpa inquired, his grandson gritting his teeth to contain his weeping.

"Y-yes…I…I…"

"It's alright, dear." Grandma urged. "Cry. Allow yourself to cry. It'll be better."

Whether he had been given 'permission' to do so, or because he could contain it no longer, he was unsure, but Littlefoot released the saddened, fear-ridden sobs held captive in his elongated throat. Both of his grandparents gently nuzzled their bawling grandson, their own hearts breaking at the sight of such a young individual suffering through such pain and having to go through such an ordeal in the first place. They had heard of what he and the other children had gone through to make it to the Great Valley, thinking it was a miracle that they had managed to make it without one limb missing or serious injury on them. Yet as they were presently seeing, they did carry wounds in with them, just ones that couldn't be seen by the naked eye.

Littlefoot didn't know how long it was when he began his tears or when it ended, yet upon having gotten them under reasonable control, his face was sore and his eyeballs, though very moist, felt as if they were lit aflame. Along with this came a new sensation. He longed for…companionship. He stood up, his legs still unsteady, but he found his footing and began walking forward.

"Littlefoot, where are you going?" Grandpa asked, curious of his grandson's actions.

The young Apatosaurus looked to them, a few stray tears escaping, but his voice now more in his control. "I…I need to walk for a bit. Is…is that o-okay?"

"Of course, dear." Grandma approved. "Do what you need to."

He gave them a small smile, continuing his journey to...wherever his legs to carry him. He needed some time to think, yes, but though he felt it unreasonable at this hour, he needed companionship. Not the companionship of his grandparents, but…others…

(A/N: Apparently Sharptooth was voiced by Frank Welker, so whenever he speaks, just imagine it sounding something along the lines of Dr. Claw or any other of his villain voices)

She didn't know how long she could keep this up! All four of the Triceratops's legs were topped at the maximum speed they could muster; yet Cera still continued to feel herself steadily slipping off the rocky interface quite literally hanging over the edge. She turned her eyes towards the Apatosaurus lagging behind her, both of their eyes daring not to look back at the set of teeth furiously chomping away eager to catch them. She recognized this scenario instantly: any moment, his mother would knock Sharptooth to tumble into the canyon below, she in turn snatching them both up and laying them on solid ground. More and more seconds went by, both she and Littlefoot steadily losing their battle against gravity and the tumbling stones, the wrathful Tyrannosaurus Rex still attempting to bite and hopefully catch a leg or tail in his maw.

"GAH!"

"LITTLEFOOT!"

Sharptooth had finally done it. The Longneck's tail was ensnared in the predator's jaws, the slab of rock keeping them finally giving way and all three were sent tumbling down below. Cera felt her entire body twist and turn, flipping and without any choice but to let the forces of gravity toy and violently thrust her body upwards and down until she felt the equal and opposite reaction of the rocky floor reverberate against her body, bouncing upon impact and jolting her firmly shut eyes open. Her deep green eyes shifted around the area she had landed in, her young mind unable to comprehend where she exactly was.

From what Cera could piece together from her still throbbing dome head, she was in a deep cave or cavern of some kind, the once dismal, orange evening sky being replaced with a ceiling of stone. She attempted her best to stand on her feet, yet the fall had apparently left her limbs burning and straining in pain, her legs wobbling and barley able to keep her upright. But…if she was alive…then perhaps…

"Littlefoot?" she asked the barely visible area surrounding her, hoping and praying for the Longneck to answer her.

"Littlefoot?!" she asked again, raising her volume and tone.

Still nothing.

"Littlefoot-"

THUMP…THUMP

Something was coming…or rather…someone.

Cera's already battered body was shivering upon her hears being greeted with deep throated, low snarling directly behind her. She told herself not to look, she DEMANDED that she not look, yet her eyes still continued to wander, her head turning until…

"ROAR!"

The Threehorn belted out a horrified scream, her legs forgetting their pain and rapidly carrying her forward, Sharptooth following suit. Cera darted down the winding corridors of the cave, tunnels twisting and swirling and seemingly impossible angles, she being forced in a constant battle with both her own growing fatigue and gravity, all the while the carnivore trailing was more determined than ever to catch up to his prey. Unfortunately, though she knew this fact, yet kept it out of her mind the best she could, it was all for naught. She couldn't hope to outrun him. Even worse because upon coming to the what she assumed to be the furthest she could go, she was greeted with a terrible surprise. A slab of stone met her at the end of the tunnel. She knew it didn't matter if she tried to go through the other tunnels surrounding her, as she could see they all were blocked off. There was literally, no way out.

Sharptooth steadily walked towards her, she even in her moment of doom still attempting to put on a brave face, displaying her one developed horn and her tail upward in an aggressive fashion.

"I-I'm warning you! You…you better back off or else! Littlefoot will-"

The Tyrannosaurus Rex roared to silence her, a sadistic smile curling on his large lips. He unhinged his jaws and slightly opened his gaping maw, Cera's eyes catching the form of a small shape pierced by the several rows of teeth.

"No…"

He chuckled, the once headstrong, proud adolescent now reduced to a shriveling mess, now taking her place curled up against the wall. He leant downward, one red, piercing eye cutting through her mental defenses and nearly reducing the young child to near insanity in one swift gaze.

"He can't help you now."

Then he opened his jaws wide, rushing forward and cementing herself a place to join the young Apatosaurus as both his victories and his nourishment.

"NO!"

Topsy's eyes immediately shot open upon the shrill screams of his daughter piercing through his slumber, his adrenaline pumping and horns bared, a tactic that had allowed to access the Great Valley in the first place.

"Cera?" he inquired, his now recently one and only daughter huddled up in a small patch of dirt not too far from his larger form.

He knelt down and with every ounce of gentleness he could muster, nudged the young Triceratops, she gazing towards his with moist, green eyes.

"Why'd you scream? And…" he observed a few stray drops escaping from her eyes. "Are you crying?"

"N-no! Of course not!" she croaked. "Threehorns don't cry!" whether by instinct or some other hidden element, she didn't know, but Cera dashed away from her father, her weeping mixing in with her panting as she darted off.

"Cera! Come back here!" he bellowed out, yet she didn't heed him, having already set her mind to whom she wanted to see.

The second the behemoth predator hit the water with the rock assisting gravity in plunging him into the lake, Ducky felt she SHOULD have felt some form of victory. The monster that had been perusing and harassing them was gone! They, four young dinosaurs had just defeated a Sharptooth! Yet the number of them present reminded her why triumph couldn't be felt. Petrie, at the last second, had been caught in the carnivore's jaws and dragged into the fathoms below with him, presumably to share the same fate. Her friend…the little flier that had just gained his wings…

No! She wouldn't let this happen! They would ALL go to the Great Valley! Together!

Before anyone of her friends could protest, the Parasaurlophus leapt forward and dove downward, hitting the water and her species best trait being put to work. Though she knew how to swim, she soon found that the pressure of the water was taking its toll on her rather miniature body, the ringing in her ears becoming louder and her vision becoming more and more strained the further she dove.

Nevertheless, Ducky continued to dive. She dove down, down, down, until her aqua irises caught glimpse of a small form struggling to free himself from a large Tyrannosaurus Rex's jaws.

'Petrie!'

She hurried her speed, she happily coming over to the flier with fattened cheeks, obviously in desperate need of air. She needed not his frantic motions to take him to the surface, she going to work on dislodging him from Sharptooth's bite. She pulled and pulled, her muscles exerting all their strength until she felt him give way, the flier quite literally falling into her arms. Clutching him close, she darted upwards, the need for air now affecting her too, her lungs becoming more and more desperate for oxygen that lay in wait at the top.

"Ducky!" she heard Littlefoot and Cera cry out upon seeing her break the surface, Spike only giving her a wide, open grin.

"Do not be worried!" she called back, displaying the precious cargo she carried before swimming over to a small area of land. "Petrie and I are safe! Yep, yep, yep!"

She held the equally sized Pteranodon close to her, she then realizing a missing element that had been present before.

Petrie was no longer holding her back. In fact, his 'arms' merely hanged limply by her sides, she being the only thing supporting his weight.

"Petrie?" she questioned, she looking at the flier's face.

The fledgling's expression was, for lack of a better term, expressionless. He bore nothing: no joy, no relief, not even the opposite emotions. He almost looked as if he were unconscious…or…

"Wh-what is wrong Petrie?" Ducky inquired, gently beginning to shake her friend. "I…I saved you. You can wake up now."

He didn't heed her pleas. In fact, he didn't do anything. No twitch, no movement, nothing.

"You…you cannot be…"

The swimmer was being forced to process the state of the flier, tears now filling her eyes. This made no sense! He was perfectly fine when she found him in the water! He was more active there than he was now currently on land! How…how could this be happening?

"No!" she cried, shaking his lifeless body. "No, no, no! I saved you! You cannot do this! I…" she ceased, now settling to hold him close to her, he slumped over onto her sobbing form. "I want you to come with us. To come…with me…"

"Ducky! Look out!"

She didn't even have a chance to look as a large splash of water resonated throughout the area, a large, towering form now looking down on the swimmer and her recently deceased friend, she still not letting go. Sharptooth stared down at her, the small green reptile trembling with fear, her small frame wrecked with tremors. He looked to the dead Petrie, growling in satisfaction. Two for the price of one, he could make this work.

"Petrie, wake up!" she pleaded; shaking him violently, though she knew that it would do no good. "Please! Wake up!"

"He can't help you now." Sharptooth retorted, raising his vision towards the three stationed above him, signaling to the trio that they were next.

Then he thrust his open jaws downward, Ducky clenching her eyes shut and clutching Petrie close to her, a small sense of satisfaction whelming up inside her that she could join him, even if it was in a fashion such as this.

"PETRIE!" her throat expelled, the name of the flier catching the attention of her sisters and parents, all of which quickly made their way over to the distraught Ducky.

"Ducky? Honey?" her mother called out, concern dripping from her voice.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" her father came up, immediately scooping his daughter into his arms, a few of her sisters petting and gazing at her with fearful eyes.

Ducky looked up at her family, save for her new brother that was still sleeping the night away. She envied him greatly at that moment.

"I…I am okay. I…" she hopped out of her father's arms, she giving him a smile of gratitude. "I need to talk a walk. I will not be long." Upon hearing no protests, she left, her feet dragging behind her and her head hung low.

She needed comfort, yes, yet she would not find it here…she needed him. She needed all of them.

The moment he felt his grip slip, Petrie knew he was in trouble, but when he felt the black, adhesive substance below, he knew he was doomed. He cried out for the Triceratops having already walked off, obviously not even hearing his cries, thanks to him already feeling himself becoming submerged in the tar. He then shouted for the other's names, though he knew that they were more likely than not in their own predicament as well.

"Ow! Ouch! It burns!" he shrieked, his coated wings flapping in reflex.

He knew it was no use, even if he DID miraculously learn how to fly in that instant. The black tar, he assumed, was obviously hot as they were walking by a set of burning mountains, yet the constant assault to his thin, sensitive skin constructing his wings was unbearable! It was common knowledge to those who had wings that any pterosaur's most precious yet venerable aspect about them was their wings. Their tissue was thin for them to ride the air, flexible and while more durable than the neutral observer would assume, they were packed and loaded with nerves, the slightest change in the breeze being detectable, and now those instruments that would one day allow him to grace the skies were searing and burning with heated, black, syrupy liquid.

"Little-cough! Littlefoot! Ducky! Spi-cough-ke!" he then came to another horrifying realization: he was sinking.

The substance was weighing his small body lower and lower, the only parts of his body now afloat being his head and foreclaws. He wished he could scream, holler, anything to signal his need for rescue from the naturally made death trap, yet not one soul was in sight, and the lower half of his beak was already submerged…

SPLASH

Something pulled him under! What?! No living thing could live in such an environment such as this! Nothing!

Petrie opened his eyes by pure reflex, shocked and surprised the tar had not the same effect it was having on his wings or skin in general. Something…something about this tar didn't seem natural to him…

Looking downward, he saw his answer.

Sharptooth was holding the flier by his right hindclaw, his talons somehow managing to avoid being crushed by the carnivore's enormous jaws. This made no sense! What and how could he be here?! The Tyrannosaurus Rex, whilst a fearsome predator, was NOT a creature created for the water or likely to swim in any substance, let alone burning tar!

Yet those thoughts were immediately banished from Petrie's mind as he then began dragging the flier down with him.

"He-gurgle!" he regretted his decision instantly.

The second he opened his beak, the black, burning substance entered into his mouth, his throat now set aflame and clogging with the tar, chocking him and his reflexes in attempting to expel the foreign element only resulting in allowing more to enter his windpipe. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but to continue to gurgle and choke out muffled cries and pleas for help, Sharptooth tightening his grip on his foot.

"They can't help you now."

Petrie looked towards his captor; eyes wide in horror at both the voice of his captor and that such a beast could even speak their language. His bewilderment was shattered in an instant as Sharptooth dove down, dragging the drowning flier down into the pitch black, lightless fathoms below…

"No….no…"

"Hey, Petrie?"

"No…me no want…"

"Petrie, wake up."

"PETRIE NO WANT TO DIE!"

"PETRIE! WAKE UP!"

Upon the more the audible voice reaching his ears, the fledging Pteranodon jolted upwards, wings spread and ready to soar away from the danger. Yet the only thing he found was his head knocking itself against the ceiling. The laughs of his plethora of siblings echoing throughout the small cave brought him to the realization that he was the furthest place away from any tar pit.

"Alright, alright! That's enough out of all you!" his mother's voice ordered, his brothers and sisters ceasing their giggling at his 'graceful' demonstration of his newly found ability.

Petrie's mind still continued to replay the images he was attacked with in that terrible vision, the small pterosaur wrapping his wings around himself and huddling in the corner of the nest, his siblings and mother now noticing the newly forming tears developing in his eyes.

"Hey, Petrie, are you okay?" one sibling, a sister inquired, coming up to her brother and gazing at his trembling form with worried eyes.

"Yeah, are you okay?" another, a brother followed, all of his siblings now exchanging worried looks with each other, his mother's being the most worried.

Before he could get a word out, he felt his mother scoop him up into her grasp with her beak and carry him outside, away from the nest and at the entrance to their little hideaway in the rocky wall of the protective barrier around the Great Valley. She set her youngest down, he immediately going to her side and burying himself in her indigo wing.

"Oh darling…" she scooped him up, holding him close and gently nuzzling him with her beak. "What's the matter? Bad sleep story startle you?"

"Y-yes, Mama…" he replied, attempting to keep his already broken voice semi understandable. "Me…me get stuck in…in black sinking sands before me get to Great Valley and…and…" his moist eyes then caught sight of someone making their way away form their resting place, a very familiar someone. Someone he needed to see.

"Mama, Me go out for a bit. Oh! Uh…p-please?"

"Of course. Do what you need to sweetie."

His mother's approval lifted his spirits at least slightly, Petrie being released from her hold and his wings flapping and riding the night air, the breeze cool and crisp.

Upon settling in for the night, Spike had thought that everything went surprisingly well. They had managed to find one lone tree with a decent amount of green food, he of course gorging himself on his own pile. Afterward, it got dark and they all, even Cera, slept by each other in calm bliss with full stomachs. Yet the moment he opened his eyes…he knew something was off.

One factor being that no one was present. Even in his, self-admittedly, one track mind, he knew that they were more likely than not just going off in search of more food. The second factor was that the only thing providing him company was a single Treestar, Littlefoot's Treestar. While he quite literally was born yesterday, he knew that the Apatosaurus never, ever, EVER let the precious leaf out of his sight, or off his person unless need be. He did not ask, as he felt that talking in general was merely a useless activity that makes one's tongue flap and wiggle words too difficult for him to muster, plus, actions spoke louder for him anyway, but also because he knew better than to pry into their 'leader's' personal business. Given how he held the leaf so close, even he knew that the significance was more than just an emergency supply of food, hence why even with his appetite, he didn't even let it into his mind of how delicious it looked. Not once.

With nothing to do or eat, the semi-newborn Stegosaurus felt the only thing he could do was the first and only option that came into his mind: go out and look for them.

Spike began his trek from their resting place that night, lazy, brown eyes surprisingly tuned and eagerly looking for the other four members of the unusual herd. He doubted he could call out for them loud enough, so he bothered not to, his four legs carrying him further along his invisible path to seemingly nowhere. Seemingly nowhere was the best description of his journey, as his feet steadily began to grow sore, his legs straining themselves and growing exhausted, and even his eyes almost in a constant battle with the need to sleep. Ultimately, his body could take more abuse from the elements and he fell flat on his stomach. His…unusually flat stomach…

His eyes jolted wide, going to observe himself. He didn't know how, but he had grown thin. Unnaturally, and sickly thin. His stomach was bent inwards, his olive green skin quite literally hugging his apparently nearly non-existent muscles. His rib protruded outward, pushing against his skin, and he then just realized how sunken and thin his throat had become, the spinal cord now visible from his skull to the tip of his tail. Spike began to make worried, frightened whimpers, yet what met his eyes next is what him holler in terror.

Bones. Before the hatchling Spiketail were four sets of skeletons, collapsed in the dirt and sand already beginning its work in burying them. What he at first was horrified of, he soon felt his heart twist into utter sadness.

Littlefoot was lying on his side; his skull having already developed cracks and smudges on the ivory remains. Cera was on her back, her skull flipped upright and the rest of her bones scattered all around her in an unorganized mess, as if she could not get the rest of herself upright when she was still alive. Petrie was also on his back, his ribs splayed like an open cage, his head upside down and one eye socket broken. Finally, the last skeleton made his already tear filled eyes released their stored contents. Ducky laid on her side, not far from the remains of the Pteranodon, curled up, tail to head, as if she fell asleep. The emaciated Stegosaurus nudged the skull of the remains of his 'big sister', his mouth expelling gurgling, hiccupping sobs. He didn't know how long he stayed there in his sorrow over the discovery of the remains of his friends and sister, yet he didn't wish to continue. He was already nearly dead; why not join them in death?

As he closed his eyes, he felt the ground vibrate around him. He fearfully believed it was yet another earthquake, yet upon further observation, he realized that the vibrations were…rhythmic. They were getting closer and closer as well…

Suddenly, an immensely dark shadow covered him, he being alerted to the owner by a deafening roar ringing through his ears.

Sharptooth, jaws dripping with droll towered over Spike, a sickening smile curling on his lips. Spike instinctively rose from his resting place and had his legs carry him forward. The Tyrannosaurus Rex followed suit, snapping and chomping whenever he got close. Spike cursed his weakened state, as his hind leg gave way and sent him tumbling into the burning, desert sands, head first. He attempting to stand, yet his legs were worn down to the point they could not support his weight any longer. Turning his head, the once sprinting predator was now casually walking towards him, one red eye peering down at him, two terrified brown ones looking back.

"They can't help you now." He stated, the Spiketail only weakly murmuring before the carnivore lunged forward, Spike shutting his eyes with only the hope that it would not be too long or painful.

"GUAH!"

Ducky's siblings and parents looked to their adopted son, he letting out a similar cry to their daughter. All of them went over to the shaking, unnerved Stegosaurus, his 'mother' rubbing his back in a comforting fashion.

"Spike, honey? What's wrong?" she inquired, her 'son' looking to her with moist eyes and merely shaking his head before his eyes began to dart around.

"What is it? What are you looking for?" his 'father' questioned, the Spiketail rising and his searching growing more and more frantic, he now studying each of their other daughters.

All were present…all but one…

"Ducky went to take a walk." One of them stated, Spike immediately taking off away from them all.

Neither of them stopped him, nor called him back. They knew what, or rather, who he needed right now, so who were they to stop him?

Littlefoot let himself stop at a small hill, the moon visible and shining bright, fat and full, the lesser light almost seemingly watching the Valley itself. His walk didn't do much to clear his mind, the horrific images still plaguing his subconscious and he knew well that they would not let him sleep tonight, possible for a good while. He needed them. He needed all of them by his side, but they were all still probably asleep and who was he to rip them from their families after they had just found them?

"L-Littlefoot?"

'That voice…"

The Longneck looked behind him, a downcast, sullen Threehorn steadily approaching him, her green eyes catching the moon's beams and reflecting the bright white hue off them.

"Cera?"

Note: Guess this won't be a one shot after all. I put too much in, I know, but I just can't help it! Don't worry, there WILL be closure after all I put them through, and as Don says "Kids can handle anything as long as it has a happy ending". Read and review, please! Thank you!