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For the umpteenth time the past hour, Croissant returned to the machine room, hoping a certain cookie would simply show up there. Instead she is greeted by the same sight: Her timecraft, tools, and two sandwiches that are growing increasingly colder. Timekeeper Cookie has not been here. At the very least, the sandwiches remained untouched. Who knows if she’s even eating?
… So, there is this big problem: Croissant couldn’t find Timekeeper, who was currently supposed to be regulating the timelines.
Honestly? She gets it. Timekeeper probably needs a break every now and then from cutting off timelines and watching other versions of themself perish. It’s a job that would be haunting for anyone. So, if Timekeeper just gave themself a break, Croissant wouldn’t be nearly as stressed out.
But here’s the thing. Timekeeper has been gone for about seven hours now. Seven whole hours, and no cookie has any clue where their Director is! And it isn’t that the TBD can’t go seven hours without Timekeeper — probably — it’s just that it’d be so much easier if an all-powerful Time Lord lended a helping hand to their employees who are trying to control the whole mess… (The mess that she made.) They are the Director, after all. They’re supposed to do their job, make the calls, and, well, direct the whole place! Yet Croissant has spent the past hours looking for them up and down the entire TBD, to absolutely no avail.
She asked the others to update her if they caught sight of Timekeeper, but nobody has heard a thing. It’s way too late now, already pitch dark out, and the other employees have resumed their work already, but Croissant is still looking. It’s her responsibility to, both because she’s one of the only cookies who might know where in the world they’ve gone, and because the others look up to her. They’re putting faith in her to find them. (Plus, she caused this.) She even checked the garbage disposal, hoping maybe they’re just chilling out there, for whatever reason — nothing. No trace of Timekeeper.
Croissant really couldn’t think of any more places Timekeeper might be at. There’s nowhere else for them to go… She paced around the room, anxiety rising in her just as it had the past hours. But, Timekeeper is a future version of Croissant, right? So Croissant of all cookies would have to know where they might be, somewhere they have gone to disappear for seven hours, for who-knows-what reason. Maybe it would be somewhere that they might find comfort in… Not the rooftop, not the machine room, not within the rifts, somewhere else… Maybe somewhere more private? Somewhere that… most cookies can’t get into or think of.
An idea crossed her mind. Immediately, she burst open her doors, hurrying down the halls, brushing past several tired workers. They probably haven’t slept in a long while… With that in mind, she ran even quicker, her heartbeat drumming loudly in her ears. Please be there. If they aren’t, then she really wouldn’t know what to do… She can’t manage this all alone. She needs them. The whole TBD needs them…!
Finally, she came to a stop before a door, panting. It’s the door to Croissant’s room. She hasn’t been here in forever, ever since the Time Manipulators were made, she’s mostly slept inside the machine room on the floor, not having enough time to go and sleep on an actual bed. She could hear her own heart, the adrenaline rushing in her body… She took a deep breath, steadying her wobbly legs, and opened the door.
“Timekeeper?”
And there they stood. Facing away from the door, hunched over the desk, their large pool of hair covering most of their body, was Timekeeper Cookie. Half their face illuminated by the table lamp, the other obscured in darkness. Croissant can’t begin to voice the relief she felt when she saw their silhouette. She closed the door to give them both some privacy and walked in, getting closer, “Timekeeper, where were you? Everyone has been looking for you. It’s really late, too.” She came to a stop next to Timekeeper, her brows furrowed, moving to put her hand on their shoulder and turn them around. “Tee? Are you listening? You know you can’t just disappear without a—”
Her words died in her throat. Timekeeper turned to look at her. But something was wrong. Very wrong. Specifically, it was the right side of their face.
It was … completely missing. In its place, there was what looked to be a… A giant, swirling Time Pocket.
Croissant stumbled back, stunned by the sight. “Timekeeper?”
Timekeeper Cookie turned around fully, their eye setting on her. Their hand reached up and covered where half of their face should be, as if trying to feel it, and being unable to as there is simply nothing there. Not anymore. They were not smiling. Or, to be clear, they are, but it wasn’t right. It’s not with their usual energy. It was like… a scoff, or like something more desperate. They stared at Croissant with their eye. They look so tired. So, so tired…
And now, all the pieces are set into place. It all made sense. Why they disappeared for that long, why they had to hide inside Croissant’s room instead of anywhere else. They didn’t know what to do… It must have been scary. Croissant wanted to hold their hand, tell them it’s all going to be okay, but… But seeing their expression, she couldn’t get the words out or even manage to move. She can’t tell them that, because she doesn’t know that. She can’t know if it’ll be okay, or say anything comforting. This is … Beyond her league. There’s nothing she could say to make this better, is there? She can’t do anything to help… (She’s useless.)
“Croissant…” They spoke. Their voice was soft. It didn’t sound right. They never sounded like this. It wasn’t the normal type of soft. It was too light, too delicate, as if it’s taking them all their energy just to speak. As if they will crumble the next second. They removed their hand from the hole in their face. “You’d all manage even if you’re without me.” They stated, as if it was fact. Like they already knew.
Hearing that, Croissant could finally move. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out the first few seconds. Of course, something Timekeeper said, it would be fact. They probably already looked into the future, already saw the results, and simply knew. But even so… Like it was instinct, she reached out and held Timekeeper’s hands. They flinched away from her, and Croissant’s stomach dropped, but she held on. She knows this would comfort them. If it would for her, then for them, it has to as well… “Are you okay?” She found herself asking, first and foremost.
Timekeeper seemed shocked for a second. Like they didn’t expect that type of response from her, or they just didn’t know how to react, hearing it first person. Croissant watched as, far too quickly, their usual smile returned. It seemed so much more forced than usual. “Why of course, Dear Croissant,” they said, their tone back to normal. It sounded fake. Like when it’s someone’s first time acting, so they make everything extra dramatic and emphasized. “Do not fret! I will return to my duties soon. So, do go back to your work, and tell the others I am alright, yes?”
They tried to gently pull their hand out of Croissant’s, but she held onto them tightly. Their hands were cold and shaking, even if they were trying their best to stabilize themself, and she can tell that they were not alright. Whatsoever. She simply couldn’t let them go when they’re like this.
“No. You’re not doing okay.” Croissant decided, her mind filled with worry as she scanned their face. This sort of injury is unheard of. She didn’t know something like this could even happen to a cookie… What happened? She wanted to ask, but she doubted Timekeeper would even tell her that. It’s likely not something they want to talk about. They never told her things like these… Instead, she asked, “Does it hurt?”
Timekeeper stared back at her, their eye narrowing. Then they rolled their eye, like it’s just a joke. Like Croissant asked something ridiculous, and this doesn’t even matter to them. She cared for them dearly, but that part about them has always bugged Croissant, how they like to act as if nothing matters to them, no matter what consequences or horrible things happened, everything, it was all just a joke, a means to pass time… Despite how Croissant knew by now, for certain, that it’s far from the truth. Even so, Timekeeper only replied with ease. “It hurts as much as it looks like it would. But it is fine! I will manage, Dear.”
She frowned. They’re just minimizing their problems. They always do this. Holding on tighter, she insisted, “I’m not gonna leave. I can’t just leave you alone, you’re really badly injured, Timekeeper!” The words came out more desperate than she wanted it to sound. She’s not nearly as good at controlling her tone and emotions as Timekeeper is… (Useless.)
“Oh, please.” Timekeeper scoffed, trying to pull their hand out with more force, this time succeeding. Croissant let them. She didn’t want to accidentally hurt them. (That’s strange to think about, isn’t it? Timekeeper Cookie, hurt? But that giant crack, and all the things Croissant knew about them, all the times they have spent together… Croissant knew better.) “I will be fine. I am a Time Lord, Croissant! I have seen all kinds of injuries, this will not affect me. My left eye has not been well for quite a while, anyhow.”
That… Was true. She always knew Timekeeper’s left eye was not in the best conditions, even if they never talked about it much. She couldn’t disagree, she didn’t know what kind of injuries Timekeeper might have seen, what might or might not affect her (they were so much stronger than Croissant was, after all, maybe she’s just underestimating them), but…
“Still…” Croisstant swallowed. She looked Timekeeper up and down, trying not to wince or stare every time her eye lands on that wound. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked carefully.
Timekeeper put their hand on their hips and gave her a big grin. One that looked almost foreign to her. “Fine and dandy. I will be back soon. You shall just hurry on to deliver the news that I am doing perfectly fine and simply took a little break.”
… This didn’t feel right. It felt like something big was happening. Something changed, something that she doesn’t know or understand is spreading out its roots, causing cracks that she’s unaware of, decomposing everything. And Croissant is scared. Terrified, even, though she didn’t know what exactly she’s afraid of. But in the end, instead of protesting further, she could only nod quietly, looking over Timekeeper again. If they wanted space to process this, then… She’ll let them have some space.
They have to be okay, right? She needed them. All of the TBD needed them.
If Timekeeper themself said they’re okay, then maybe they really are, and Croissant is worrying too much… She doesn’t know what they can and can’t handle. Timekeeper knows and has been through so much more, after all… They’re much stronger than she is, she can’t use her own standards to judge Timekeeper. Plus, she does have things she needs to do as well, the entire TBD is in a wreck right now. Even then, she couldn’t just shake that worry. Not when something felt so clearly wrong, even though she couldn’t quite place her fingers on it.
Croissant took in a deep breath. She settled on a compromise. “Fine. But you have to come report back to me in about an hour or I’m going to come find you again and this time I won’t be leaving you alone, got it?”
Timekeeper smiled. That usual, cheshire cat smirk they wore. The sight was almost comforting if not for literally everything else. “Of course.” Their tone was light. Almost too light, yet again.
She wanted to respond with something more. Instead, all she could do was sigh. “Okay..” She said, but it all felt wrong. She didn’t want to leave, but she has to. She has things to do. Timekeeper being unavailable is already taking a toll, she can’t be gone too. The TBD can’t afford it. She began towards the door, though she looked back at Timekeeper once more, trying to take them all in, to find… something. Something to tell her it’s all okay, or something to tell her to stay. She found neither.
“Take care of yourself, Tee.” She said.
“I will.”
Croissant somehow doubted that, very much so.
…
She ate her own share of the sandwiches. At around the hour mark, she looked up. The remaining sandwich was gone, but she caught no other sign of Timekeeper. Croissant could only stare at the cold wrapper with crumbs still left in it, as if that will manifest Timekeeper Cookie out of nowhere. Eventually she gave up. She had to resume working.
“At least you’re eating, so I’ll take that as you’re doing okay…” She mumbled, hoping that Timekeeper heard her.
She thought there might have been a skip in the tick-and-tock of the clock, a beat of silence that answered her, but she wasn’t sure if she made that up.
…
Something has been severely off with Timekeeper.
Of course something would be off when an entire half of their face is now just missing. But, no, it’s more than that. Much more than that.
Their behavior is… strange. Of course they’re tired. Everyone is. Who wouldn’t be? But this is… extremely unusual for Timekeeper. Almost wrong. Like they’re decaying. They have been much more closed off, somehow more than normal. They’ve never been a cookie to share their business, but now they barely even speak in general, and they don’t appear unless called on or necessary. They don’t even speak like themself…
(Like you, then?)
No. No, something… Worse.
They seem absolutely exhausted, and every time Croissant catches sight of them (which has become few and far between), it only gets worse. Not even just that, but .. it’s as if they’ve given up, almost entirely. Not bothering with their usual dramatic flair, not bothering with unnecessary socializing, just doing whatever they’re expected to and then leaving to who knows where. No matter how many attempts Croissant makes to comfort them, it doesn’t seem to work. It’s as if… As if it’s only a matter of time before they give up on everything completely.
The thought sent chills down Croissant’s spine. No. That can’t be. Surely, they wouldn’t. They’re still here, aren’t they? They’re still trying to help. They wouldn’t leave. They won’t give up, not when Croissant was still here, not when everyone still depended on them. Right? Croissant knew how much everything must be taking a toll on them. How stressful it could be, how terrible it is. How the future of this timeline might seem. But, even so, they wouldn’t… they can’t. Right?
Croissant stared at the sandwich she bought for them. It still sat on her desk, even after many hours. It must be cold and soggy by now. This must be the seventh one to be left untouched, and Croissant had to eat it before it started decaying. She wondered if Timekeeper was eating anything at all. Did they even need to? Likely not. Time God and whatnot… But they enjoyed eating, didn’t they? Or did that enjoyment lose meaning, too?……
It would be a waste to let it sit. Timekeeper clearly isn’t going to eat it, so… Despite how this didn’t feel right, she picked it up and took a bite. “You have to eat more.” She said aloud.
Nobody answered.
…
Timekeeper seems to have cut her hair short.
Croissant wanted to ask about it. But it seemed like they didn’t want to talk, not at all. So she didn’t bother them.
She hoped they’ll feel better soon.
…
There was commotion at the Clock Square. When Croissant finally rushed there, drenched in sweat and machine oil still all over her hands, Timekeeper Cookie floated atop them all, right before the Central Clock.
Croissant could not register what was happening. Everything was going wrong. The others were confused——scared. They looked to her, to Croissant Cookie for support, when they realized that Timekeeper Cookie is no longer going to be of any help. She wanted to say something, to say anything, but no thoughts were able form in her head as Timekeeper’s cold gaze glanced over the crowd and landed on her. The black mourning veil they now wore flowed behind them. Their expression was so foreign that Croissant almost couldn’t recognize them, but they were still Timekeeper, her Timekeeper Cookie…
“All cookies are small and weak,” They said, their voice quiet, and yet it rang loudly in Croissant’s head. “And the TBD is meaningless.”
With that, they gripped the remaining half of their Sonic Embroider, broken, barely in tact, and turned away from all others, opening up a rift.
“I’m leaving, to a place where time won’t flow. You won’t be able to find me. Don’t bother. Farewell.”
I’m leaving. Farewell.
It felt like Croissant was having a heart attack. She could not breathe. She felt lightheaded. None of this felt real. This isn’t. It can’t be. She stumbled forward, an attempt to get closer to Timekeeper, but her legs were weak and wobbly and she ended up falling to the ground, only just now realizing how much she was shaking. Timekeeper only floated above, unchanging.
“Wait!” She cried out. She didn’t care if everyone was watching. Timekeeper was the only one on her mind. “Please, Timekeeper——”
They did not spare another look at her as they stepped through the rift.
“I’m sorry! Please, don’t——” Don’t go! Don’t leave me here, all alone! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything, anything——
The rift closed up and disappeared.
All that was left was a shattered Croissant Cookie who sat alone before the Central Clock.
…
She didn’t remember much of what happened after that. The crowd dispersed, even though they were all just as horrified. Maybe Baguette and Dark Fondue helped get them out, so they will go back to work. Croissant must have gotten herself together after a while, and went back to the machine room. It was nice that they understood she needed some time, but she felt incredibly guilty for it anyway. Losing composure like that.
She still couldn’t fully understand what just happened. It hadn’t processed in her head yet, or been fully registered. She just knew she had to get back to work, because she definitely didn’t have more spare time left to sit there and cry.
When she walked into the machine room, she noticed the box sitting on the desk. Within it was a sandwich left over from a couple of days ago, sitting there with a couple of flies circling around it. It was rotten, having been decomposed, left to decay on its own.
Croissant blinked.
She picked it up and threw it into the trash.