Chapter Text
Hollyberry had been giving a speech and Royal Margarine wanted to hear. So, he got onto Buttercream and began to make his way to the Hollyberry kingdom. He was just within viewing distance of the kingdom when suddenly, it happened.
The last thing he could remember was the sky going black, a pink and white cookie flying high with large white wings as the sky seemed to break and crack. Buttercream had shielded him from whatever she might have sensed coming his way.
Then, he was falling.
Falling…
Falling.
Royal Margarine sat up with a gasp, his eyes wide as he looked around. He was on a shore, waves coming up to lap at his feet; making him a bit soggy.
He shuffled backwards, attempting to stand. He struggled to keep his breathing under control, but it was hard when you have no damn clue where you are or what just happened.
“Buttercream?”
Royal Margarine called out, but to no avail. He swallowed thickly, dusting sand off of himself. He noticed his orange vest was missing. He shrugged it off, it wasn’t the worst of his worries at the moment. Right now, he needed to find Buttercream. That was his first and only priority.
He walked along the shore-line for a long time, refusing to go into the forest for the time being. Everything around him was so… saturated. It made him look desaturated in comparison. He was not a fan of it. He wished he could maybe be comforted by the sound of birds chirping, or the sun shining but he just couldn’t bring himself to pretend as if it was alright. It all felt so fake. So false.
He’d seen what happened.
“My, what are you doing here, little cookie?”
A voice spoke, sweet and whispy in the air. It sent a shudder up his spine. He turned on his heel to face the cookie, hope flashing across his face. She was tall, nearly head to toe in pink garments, even her dough and frosting was pink; different shades. She practically radiated beauty, a crown with an upside down heart in it adorned her head.
He went to speak, about to ask her where he was, about to ask what had happened before his words caught in his throat as he took notice of the large pair of wings on her back. Large, white wings. Wings.
Wings.
Royal Margarine took a step back, staring at the cookie with wide eyes. This was the beast, wasn’t it? It had to be her, she looked nearly exactly the same to what he remembered. From the wings to that cursed gem- or- soul jam. She stared at him, likely noticing his realization; based on the confusion and slight frustration on her face.
He should have asked her where Buttercream was. He should’ve taken out his knife and threatened her, demanding to know what had happened. He should have been brave and demanded answers. But he ran, like he always does.
He always runs.
He isn’t a hero.
He ran for who knows how long, only stopping when he physically couldn’t run anymore. He felt as if his legs were going to crumble beneath him. He was panting by the time he collapsed by a tree. He had run deep into the woods, hoping to lose the beast in the thick trees and brush. He couldn’t tell if he succeeded, as the only sound he could hear was his own heartbeat and the jam running through his veins.
He was so tired and so weak, but something told him to stay awake. If he sleeps, he doesn’t know when he’ll wake up again, if he even wakes up in the first place. So, with shaking arms, he forces himself off the ground.
Despite his situation, everything seemed to still be saturated and happy. He paled in comparison. He always did. He had had the chance to find his friends, find buttercream and figure out what was going on. But he didn’t. He ran. What a coward.
Royal Margarine shook his head quickly, attempting to rid himself of the thoughts. Usually they weren’t this frequent. He started walking again, using trees and their trunks as support for his shaking legs. He couldn’t stop moving, lest he risk being caught by the beast.
He didn’t know how long he had walked for, he had no way of telling. The sun just never went down here. Royal Margarine could feel his stomach twisting and turning, making him constantly have the need to throw up. But there was nothing he could cough up.
The cookie could feel his body failing him, becoming weaker with every passing moment. His limbs felt heavy, his head pounding and his chest growing tight despite his lightweight clothing. His dough was noticeably grayer than before. He just wanted to lie down, to close his eyes and rest.
He let himself sit down, crouching over and curling into a ball with his knees pressed up to his chest. The nausea refused to cease.
He was just about to drift off when a noise woke him up, practically piercing through his skull despite how quiet it was. It was footsteps. Royal Margarine attempted to sit up, but stumbled over his own damn foot and fell backwards against the trunk. He felt his leg bend a bit unnaturally beneath him.
He reached down to his waist, pulling out his butter knife and preparing to throw just as a familiar shield showed itself through the brush.
Royal Margarine felt hope coarse through his veins for a moment.
But of course, it wasn’t Hollyberry. Instead, supporting the shield was a tall cookie; dressed head to toe in silver armor. It was Wildberry Cookie, he remembered him from the time they had to go against the Red Dragon.
They locked eyes.
Wildberry was horribly desaturated, his hair a mess and a piece of his ‘crown’ missing. His armor and the cape that dragged behind him were both dirtied by dirt and dents. There were also deep bags beneath his eyes.
Royal Margarine shuddered at the realization that he likely didn’t look too good himself, based on the taller cookies shocked expression.
“It’s you-“
They both spoke at the same time, their tones contrasting against each other.
“What? Why aren’t you…”
Wildberry finally spoke, confusion evident in his monotone voice. His brows furrowed slightly as he stared at Royal Margarine. The cookie in question didn’t know what to say.
He tried to stand, but found that one of his legs just seemed unable to support him, causing him to just drop to his knees with a grunt. Wildberry stepped forward; temporarily dropping his shield as he leaned down beside Royal Margarine.
“You are injured. Let me try and help you.”
Wildberry spoke, gripping his cape as he looked at the others leg. Royal Margarine stared at Wildberry for a few moments before deeming him trustworthy for the time being. He was just glad to have met another cookie at this point.
Wildberry used Royal Margarines butter knife to cut a long piece off of his cape. He then pulled the others leg out from beneath him, noting the wince of pain. There was a long crack running up the bend of Royal Margarine's leg.
He attempted to ignore how Royal Margarine had to bite his own tongue while Wildberry tied the ripped cloth around the injury.
“There.”
Wildberry spoke simply, tying off the make-shift bandage. Royal Margarine stared at his leg for a few moments before looking at Wildberry. Confusion was still evident in the cookies face.
“You’re normal.”
“What?”
“You’re normal.”
Wildberry repeated, seeming almost thankful at the fact that Royal Margarine was ‘normal.’ The blonde in question leaned forward a bit, trying not to agitate his leg as he looked at the larger cookie.
“What… what do you mean I’m normal? You’re confusing me!”
Royal Margarine responded, a small awkward laugh leaving him at the end of his sentence. Wildberry didn’t seem to find it very amusing.
“All the cookies I’ve met so far have been bright, deep in sleep and unable to wake. The cookies who were awake just urged me to sleep alongside them. But… you look like me.”
Wildberry tried to explain, making small motions with his free hand as he spoke. Royal Margarine just blinked.
“So, what you’re trying to tell me is.. all of our friends are either asleep or… wanting you to sleep?”
Royal Margarine asked, cocking his head to the side a bit as he took his butterknife from Wildberry and tucked it back into its designated place. Wildberry just nodded in response.
“Pretty much.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
The two remained silent for a few beats, just staring at each other. They had never really interacted before this.
“Here, follow me. Actually, walk alongside me. I can take you to where I have set up. I have star jellies.”
Wildberry broke the silence, standing up and helping Royal Margarine up with ease; making him lean on Wildberry for support.
“How did you… set up so quick?”
Royal Margarine asked, his brows furrowing as he looked down at the ground to make sure his bandage was performing well while he stood. Wildberry looked confused for what was likely the 5th time that day.
“It’s been 4 days, Margarine.”
That seemed to shut Royal Margarine up. 4 days.
How had time passed him by so quickly?