Chapter Text
To avoid the end of time itself, one had to preserve and make good decisions. Having to grow stronger than they were. For every turning point in the rocky path might have been the point that ultimately changed the outcome of the future. Anything that could happen. Unpredictable as it could be. To be enjoyed thoroughly, as Timekeeper Cookie would say.
Pure Vanilla Cookie held a sense of responsibility for it so strongly, the hands of time ticking in his mind in every step that he took. Because he couldn't fail anymore. Not after White Lily Cookie. Not after she sacrificed her own time to protect everything. The hands of the clock turned back in time and forwarded to the future at times. Every second moved like it could collapse at any moment from an imbalance.
But still, he and his comrades trudged forward. No matter the cost and no matter the pain. Until it decided them as the winner that was granted a right to keep existing. He wouldn't allow himself to fall to his knees in incapacity this time, unable to reach out in time.
And maybe that thought itself foreshadowed his own faltering at the last moments.
His enemy laid at his mercy, painfully aware of how futile it would be to keep fighting. His Other Half, reduced to an intangible mess that couldn't separate itself from prisoners and the fading steel bars.
The final battle at its inevitable end. The curtain waiting to be drawn closed on a show that had gone on for too long. Empty seats of audiences that wouldn't offer applause nor comfort to a mourning actor.
He expected the other to lash out at him, carving pain into him just as he himself must be feeling in this moment―squeezed dry from a monstrous amount of magic used to fight everything they had.
He expected his beast to feign composure, building a new lie. Anything to fall onto that wasn't vulnerability.
He expected a lot of things.
This, though. He never expected.
Shadow Milk doubled over himself in laughter that cracked at the seams, delirious giggles spilling out of his churned guts, throat hiccuping with the effort to scrape any leftover energy for his strained voice. He laughed, not caring of how he looked from above and shifting Pure Vanilla's surprise into nervous ticks of one hand gripping his staff tighter and another hand clenching and unclenching on itself.
It took a few moments too long until Pure Vanilla could see the entirety of Shadow Milk's expression as he peered up with a gleeful grin.
The grip on his staff tightened once again and his breath hitched―lost somewhere in the slow realization that he had missed all this time―
Shadow Milk smiled at him, battered and ruined and finally himself. Stripped of the grand role of the Playwright. Finally real. He uttered softly with a manic glint that slotted itself into blown pupils, a finishing line:
"Crumble me."
Pure Vanilla flinched hard.
His staff clattering to the messy surface of the temporal space, Pure Vanilla looked on in horror. The hopeful look almost made him want to puke, his throat seizing and contracting slow breaths that barely was recognized by his mind. He thought back to how tangled and in disarray Shadow Milk's plan had seemed to be, claiming a great script that had never shown its form in the end. Too aimlessly. Too much of a tale that didn't seem to have an ending written for it. As if―
As if it wasn't supposed to reach anywhere.
As if it all never mattered.
―he wanted to crumble all along.
The realization settled deep inside him with the sound of something breaking. He stood still, unable to look away from the kneeling form that awaited the blade to come down.
Shadow Milk looked oh so tired. Perhaps he had been exhausted since the beginning, only dragged forward by the countless grieving souls and deafening voices inside him. Feelings and screaming that were not fully his own. The desire for revenge and a child's need for attention that had been staked higher by the conflict inside his psyche. He himself, without any other darkness consuming him, already had long given up.
They had long lost themselves, hadn't they?
Maybe it would be a kind thing to abide by his wish. To finally put to rest what couldn't be turned back. Because even if he were to offer his hand once again right now, Shadow Milk would never take it.
This was what he really wanted.
Maybe in another world, he would have taken his hand. Maybe there was a different outcome out there. But it would never be here. Not theirs to claim.
And as the co-actor that Shadow Milk had chosen for this mad tango, with his own hand, he ought to end the endless suffering.
Once, there had been a time where Shadow Milk tugged him along in a slow dance, drifting atop the yogurt river of Rebirth, the surface rippling with every step, creating waves that seemed so loud in the quiet that encased them.
A crooked but genuine smile. Even if earned through a simple lie. A facade that would soon break.
'We're meant to be together'
Pure Vanilla took a deep, shuddering breath.
Finally, he moved.
Finally―
Simultaneous noises of shock and gasps were heard in the tension of the battle aftermath. Leaving only Timekeeper Cookie who smiled wider, thoroughly amused and forlorn, understanding the choice that had been made.
―Pure Vanilla embraced Shadow Milk.
Kneeling all the same in the pathetic excuse of a space filled with cracks. Equally made insane by the forces of time and wounds that never healed.
A massive dome-shaped shield made of light formed around them to keep his own friends and allies from approaching. Protests and worried shouts were muted by the projection as well as his own selfish will.
Funny. He remembered he had told Shadow Milk that if he had given the chance to redo it all, he wouldn't have made the same choice. But here he was, keeping everyone away once again, just like that time with Dark Enchantress Cookie. Only that he was the one to be inside the dome this time, grasping desperately at his supposed enemy.
'I'm sorry.'
This time, he wouldn't come back anymore.
Shadow Milk's deformed hands still laid at his sides, his eyes wide with confusion. He struggled to remove himself but his movements were sluggish, arms like jelly with barely any life energy running through him. He was like a flickering star just before it exploded.
Pure Vanilla laughed despite the circumstances. He knew not the emotions that colored his voice but he pulled through nonetheless, whispering gentle words with tears already running down his cheeks.
"You don't have to be alone."
Shadow Milk jolted. Familiar words that were only deemed as betrayal in his memories.
Pure Vanilla hugged him tighter.
"I'm right here."
Sharp light projectiles surrounded them in a circle. Ready to pierce them. Enough to ensure that they would crumble at once.
A final salvation.
For someone who didn't want to be saved.
Pure Vanilla felt the shift in Shadow Milk's trembling body, relaxing into the warmth that hoped it would be enough for the cold dough. The latter tried to wrap his bigger arms around Pure Vanilla, returning the gesture with a sharp and hoarse laugh.
"This is where your kindness became your undoing, huh?"
Pure Vanilla chuckled, his voice clipped by remorse. "It seems like it."
Shadow Milk laughed harder, a forced little thing that could never rival his stage performance so far. He coughed with the effort of it all, tightening ever so painfully around Pure Vanilla and the latter just let him with a smile, savoring the affection that would soon mark its end.
They both sank into the embrace ever so deeper with each of their pain painting an image.
The time signaled for the last bow.
A final confession and then sickly crunches resounded afterwards. Jam and drowned crumbs pooling into a small fountain, gold and blue mixed into a horrifying blend that had desperate cries following after the shield vanished into thin air.
The Heroes came to save the day
The villain defeated
Everyone was happy
The end
What a typical ending, am I right?