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It was dark.
Well he was sleeping, his eyes were closed, of course it was dark.
It was too dark.
He always kept an eye or two open, those in his hair.
Always cracked open just enough to watch over his sleeping form.
He tried to open his eyes.
They didn't respond.
…
They didn't respond.
…
They weren't responding.
Shadow Milk Cookie tried opening the eyes on his face, first the two all cookies had, then as those failed to respond he tried the rest on his head.
They wouldn't open, it felt like his eyelids were glued shut, he tried to squirm, to claw his eyes open, to scream and thrash.
His limbs felt like lead, his body refused to respond, his mouth sewn shut as his screams cooled in his throat becoming a heavy block to his breathing.
Breathing, he wasn’t breathing. He didn’t need to breathe, yet his lungs burned as if filled with water.
He felt a sharp sting in his abdomen, three prongs pierced through his dough.
It burned.
He tried to screech in agony yet his mouth was still forced shut. At least he could cry. Tears as hot as magma spilling with his blood in what would surely become a pathetic puddle below him.
He reached for his magic, beaconing the ocean of mana to his call. None came, all his power suppressed and locked away.
He stopped trying to fight it. Now he knew where he was.
The Silver Tree.
Of course it'd end up here again, why wouldn't he? It was a beast, unfit for cookie kind, destined to be bound for the betterment of all. To be hidden away as the shameful failure it was.
Failed virtue, a mistake of the Witches, something to be dealt with by the Witches favorite little deity.
…
It was being bitter.
It wasn’t the fault of Solidarity's that he was favored. It wasn’t Silence's fault that he was hurting too much to hold a proper trial.
Regardless, it knew things would end up this way. Truth couldn't be expected to continue trying to love fix what could never be mended.
The beast couldn't die, it knew that much, the others couldn't either. So it was a cold dark eternity ahead once again, one with the constant burn of the forks and the incapacity to control its body.
It wasn’t alone though, that was an upside. With the small amount of magic it could muster it reached out for the others. Its fellow beasts. Even if they couldn't talk or see each other, the comfort of knowing they were there was greater than it'd ever admit.
…
Oh,
…
It found nothing.
They weren't there.
They weren't sealed with it.
Of course, what else had it expected? Why would they be sealed with it? It was the only one wrong enough to fall again. The others were doing wonderfully, they had settled in easily after a few hitches. It bet none of the other New Virtues had to deal with the constant relapses Truth had to deal with.
It began crying again.
In a sudden spout of defiance it tried to thrash and scream again, it tried to call upon its magic, lashing out like an animal.
With a snap its magic flooded back to it as various objects being knocked down and broken rang out, breaking the previous silence.
It sat up slowly, opening its teary eyes as it gazed upon the destroyed room Pure Vanilla had so graciously allowed it to stay in.
With a weary sigh it rubbed its tear stained face. Shifting to the edge of the bed it stood, the heavy blanket it usually hid under slipping off. The cold air stung its dough, the floor even more so.
It pulled its legs back up before draping the blanket back over its shoulders. It floated up and out of the torn up room. It could clean up later, in the early morning before anyone saw it.
Wandering the halls it tried to keep its mind from the nightmare as the moonlight filtered through large stained glass windows.
Its wrists itched. Although it had left any clean blades behind. Pure Vanilla would blame himself if it was infected by its nails or teeth again.
Yet the itch stayed… maybe it could… no, it couldn't bother Pure Vanilla this late into the night.
Maybe… if it stayed silent though and teleported in…
It opened a portal, slipping through into the king's room. It floated towards the bed slowly. Swaying slightly as it gazed upon the sleeping king's face. Pure Vanilla was peaceful when asleep. The rhythmic rise and fall of its chest calming the beast.
The blanket it wore was heavy, designed to be so, it usually slept better under weighted blankets. It was tired, too tired to float any longer. Maybe if it just…
Laying down it rested its head on the king's chest. Trying not to wake Pure Vanilla.
He relaxed with the warm body beside him and a heartbeat to focus on. His mind finally calming.
“Shadow Milk…?” A husky voice rubbed beneath him as the king woke.
Shadow Milk gave a huff, “Yeah?” He snapped, although his own voice was too raspy and broken. He was too tired to be speaking. So instead he buried his face into the robes beneath him and hoped Pure Vanilla didn't notice.
A hand lifted his face, gently the king's thumb brushed over his lips and cheek. Trying to make out his expression. There would have been enough light by the moon and the kingdom for someone to see. Yet the king was blind, unable to see in the low light without his staff.
“You were crying,” Pure Vanilla murmured as he stroked the tear tracks of the jester's cheeks. “Forgot to close the blinds again.” He swiped the blinds closed with magic.
“Do you not want to talk about it?” The king held his face with both hands. Keeping the jester from turning away. “Maybe…” Shadow Milk mumbled as he hid his face in the other's hand.
Pure Vanilla pulled the jester closer, holding him close as they turned to lay on their side. The king adjusted the weighted blanket to cover both of them. Wrapping himself around Shadow Milk both to comfort the cookie and tell where the other was.
Curling into the other, the jester waited till everything stilled again before opening his mouth. He gaped like a fish before forcing the words out. “Tree…” he croaked before hiding his face in the other's chest.
“It's okay, it's… it's all going to be okay.” The king ran his hand through Shadow Milk's hair. He kissed the jester’s hair, “you'll never be there again bluebird. I promise.”
“I-I…” The jester swallowed, trying to calm himself before continuing. “You don't have to say anything my dear.” Pure Vanilla murmured as he moved to half lay on Shadow Milk. He waited to see if it was the right move this time, if the jester needed touch, warmth, and pressure or unrestricted movement at the moment.
When Shadow Milk nuzzled closer the king held tighter. “I want to though…” the jester murmured “I was bound as I always am in those dreams… and I was truly alone there. Back… back when I was in the Silver Tree I wasn't completely alone, at least not physically. I could sense my siblings, but in my dream… I knew it was because only I would relapse into a beast and need to be sealed again…” the under of his eyes felt heavy.
“Bluebird–” Pure Vanilla started, “don't,” he cut in, “I know you wouldn’t, even if I started all my twisted ways again.”
The king just held him, half an hour passed. “The others, your siblings I mean, they have setbacks as well.”
“Hm? Well, they're bound to eventually…” Shadow Milk whispered.
“What I mean is, you aren't doing any worse than they are. All of you are making tremendous progress and you aren't having any harder of a time.” The king tilted the other’s head up to kiss the jester's cheek.
“...thank you” Shadow Milk whispered as he wrapped himself around the king. Leaning up he pressed a kiss to the other's lips.
Pure Vanilla gave a small chuckle, “your welcome Bluebird.” he continued with sweet short kisses. The king continued, slowing with longer kisses of comfort, ones that lingered. He continued until the jester beneath him calmed, the other’s body falling limp and heavy. Pure Vanilla shifted to a more comfortable position.
“Goodnight my love, sleep well…” the king murmured as his jester fell asleep.