Chapter Text
Over the past week, Shadow-Milk-Cookie's world has been turned upside-down. Everything he saw as normal was flipped and snatched away from him. His home, his lifestyle, even his clothes were all taken from him and swapped for something more 'suitable' to his new living conditions.
Pure-Vanilla-Cookie told him it was for the best, for his own good. That he could help him.
Ha, that's golden...
Despite his other half's assurances, he didn't believe it himself. It's been three days since he's been trapped in this castle under the constant heavy supervision of... well, everyone. He hated it. It dragged on like drying paint, with long days and longer nights. Waiting. For what? He honestly didn't know. Maybe he wasn't actually waiting for anything, and was just laying in his own miserable existence.
Just after he made it out of that damned tree. Just after. Everything was normal... He had a life, an existence, a reason-- a way to live!
But now he was locked up again. Just like before. Just like he always will be.
He groans and rolls from his back onto his side and staring at the door he knew to be locked. He wanted out. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be free, to step into the sunlight again. He hated being confined.
So he sat up, his body aching in pain from the simple movement as he slid to stand on the floor. He was shaky, and it hurt like hell, but he was standing.
When he was taken under the cruel captivity of the ancients, (specifically Pure-Vanilla -Cookie) they had stripped him of his powers. Everything that made him him was gone. He was so reliant on his powers. They helped him manage his chronic pains he was cursed with since baking, or to help him get around by simply floating everywhere. But no, those were gone and now he had to deal with his issues.
One of those issues he first noticed when he got a chance to breathe after being taken in, was that his legs had become immensely weak. Not to the point he couldn't walk, but he struggled with balance at first. He's overcome that, but his weight is still painfully heavy on his weak legs. But he gets over it- just like he gets over his insufferable chronic pains he now couldn't dull down with a spell.
He was reminded all too well of this as he made small steps to the door, arms wrapped around himself, reminding him that regulating his temperature was also something he used to be able to do. He was damn cold.
He obviously wasn't wearing the same clothes he'd been captured with. Those were bloodied and dirtied from the battle that led to his fate. He was provided with new, basic clothes to wear. Currently, he wore black sweatpants that went to his feet and a dark blue sweater. It's not his first choice in style, but its better than some of the god awful bright yellows or whites this kingdom was so well known for.
He reached the door, staring at it as if it had personally hurt him. He was not staying one more day here waiting for absolutely nothing. He refuses. Everything hurts, his whole body, his head, and even a painful ache in his stomach he couldn't discern the cause of, or why it constantly made awful sounds at him. He ignored all of this and focused on his plan of escape. He had managed to get his hands on a hair pin, and planned on picking the lock of the door.
First, he tested the knob of the door, for no reason. He knew it was locked, that was obvious, why would he be thrown in here without the door being locked? That would be absolutely foolish on Pure Vanillas' part. He could have walked out of here at any time if he wanted to, so of course the door would be--
...
The door was unlocked.
Shadow Milk stared in awe as the door simply swung open with the turn of the handle.
Three days. He'd been sitting in this room for THREE DAYS, under the belief this door was locked and he was trapped.
The door.
Was unlocked.
"Are you KIDDING me?!" he whisper-shouts, absolutely flabbergasted but still mindful of his whole escape plan.
He shook his head, trying to focus.
Well, now that that's solved, it's time to actually escape the castle.
He stepped out into the hall, shutting the door silently behind him, looking around to make sure no-one was watching him. After confirming his lack of supervision, he turned to what hopefully led to an exit door and ran as best he could with his weak ass legs.
It hurt a lot, as if he'd been running for an hour already even though he just started. He ignored the pain though, forcing himself to run on until he got out. He wouldn't stay here another day. He refused.
He saw a door with light streaming through and he beelined it. He pushed through the door and-
Sun. The sun shone down upon him, warming his dark skin with its beams, and he suddenly isn't cold anymore. He let a smile slip onto his face as he stepped more into the light, letting his bare feet touch the ground, feeling the grass between his toes.
It felt amazing.
To anyone else, he looked like the kind of person to act like a vampire in the sunlight. They always expected him to hate it, but in reality... It was one of his favourite things.
He spent years in that damned tree. No sun, no light, no warmth... Nothing. He was alive, yet he felt nothing. The only noises were the sounds of his own breaths and movements. He'd grown a habit of talking to himself just to hear something, and that followed him out of his captivity.
Captivity. He suddenly snapped back to remember where he was and what he was doing. He took a breath, basking in the sun for just a second longer before continuing his walk to the gate he saw at the other side of the garden.
He reached it in a minute and pushed it. Nothing. It was locked. With a sigh, he grabbed hold of one of the metal rungs and pulled himself up. It hurt, a lot, he barely had the strength to do it, but he managed to pull himself up to swing over the top of the gate. It wasn't a tall gate, but it was taller than him, and when he hit the ground on the other side, he stumbled and fell to his knees with an oof.
He looked up, seeing... freedom.
He was in an open field that went on for a quarter mile or so before it reached a small town. Freedom was so close. So close...
He pushed himself up from his knees with a grin on his face as he made his way towards the town.
"Pssh, those idiots thought they could keep me contained? Me! Shadow-Milk-Cookie!" He throws his arms out in exclamation, laughing, "ha! Fools, the lot of 'em..."
He reached for the small satchel he had packed himself with a change of clothes and a hat. He grabbed the hat and pulled it over his head, making sure that he could look down and his face be hidden. He couldn't risk being recognized in the market.
He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he was leaving. He was leaving and he was not coming back.
He felt a sharp pain in his stomach and almost doubled over from it, he clutched his lower torso with his hands, gritting his teeth and groaning in pain. His head started spinning, on top of his already pounding headache.
He felt like he would pass out. He let himself drop to his knees, trying to wait out the sudden fainting spell. The pains slowly died, out not entirely leaving, but not as sharp as moments earlier. His head stopped spinning too after he took a second.
After a minute of letting his body recalibrate itself, he forced himself to his feet. His head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, but he trudged on. He could figure out this issue later.
It took him fifteen minutes to reach the town. His head pounded and his stomach ached. He kept his head low, tucking the hat down more just for safety. As long as he kept his gaze on his feet, he'd be fine. Not including any children on the street, he was shorter than the mass majority of people here, making his face easy to hide.
He considered that it may be suspicious to see someone walking the market without shoes, but he cast that thought aside. If anyone asked where his shoes were, he'd ask him why they were looking at his feet like a weirdo. That always worked.
As he kept walking, the pains only grew and grew, and he only got dizzier and dizzier. He had no explanation as to what was happening, thus, no idea how to stop it. His stomach turned over on itself and made that awful sound again, making him grimace.
Then... he saw the hem of a rather familiar waffle themed robe...
Shit.
He angled his face down as best as he could, tucking his hair to the other side of him to where he saw Pure Vanilla Cookie walking opposite him. Shadow Milk kept walking, speeding up ever so slightly, making his stomach cramp up in pain. He ignored it though, and instead took note of how the legs under that robe had stopped moving.
Shit shit shit shit.
All he could do was pray the taller cookie didn't recognize the others' stature. Though, to be fair, not many cookies were short, blue skinned, and had blue hair with eyes in it.
He was officially cooked.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and all but jumped out of his own skin.
"Shadow Milk Cookie! I see you finally decided to leave your room, hmm?" the warm voice asked right beside his head, and a hand gently pushed his hat up so he was forced to meet eyes with the cookie standing beside him. "I was getting worried you weren't ever going to leave!"
...was he not being held there? He was expected to leave?!
Shadow Milk had many words he wanted to say to the other right now, most of them derogatory, but he was interrupted by another shooting pain in his stomach, and his head spinning harshly, making him tip to the side. He barely caught himself with his foot, but Pure Vanillas hands were now on either of his shoulders, staring down at him with a very worried look now.
Since when were there two Pure Vanillas? Oh this was a nightmare.
"Shadow Milk? Are you okay?" his voice was worried but also stern at the same time.
Shadow Milk couldn't stop himself from instinctively latching onto the others arms as the floors turned around him. He grunts and grits his teeth.
"M'dizzy-" he croaks, trying to speak made him want to gag. "My- my head and stomach hurts like... like shit--"
The other looked like he wanted to reprimand him for cursing, but ignored it due to his worry.
"Your stomach hurts? When did you last eat since you got here?" His words hurt his head and confused him.
Eat? But he didn't have to eat. He was the cookie of deceit, he had magic that ensured he didn't need any petty mortal living requirements like that.
Wait.
Damnit, he forgot he needed to eat! He can't believe how foolish he is. He figured out that he'd needed to sleep after the second time passing out in his room, why couldn't he figure out he needed to eat?!
Maybe because he hadn't eaten in a millenia. He'd entirely forgotten the feeling of hunger, and when his body presented that feeling to him again he couldn't discern the cause. Oh, he's such an idiot.
"...I haven't..." he admitted pathetically. He felt like an idiot, an absolute buffoon! How could the cookie of KNOWLEDGE forget such an absurdly simple task!?
Pure Vanilla cookies face took on an expression of absolute horror, "you've been here for three days! And you haven't eaten once?!" He placed his hand on Shadow Milks back and began leading him through the streets, "oh, that won't do! That just won't do-- you must be starving!"
Shadow Milk was so confused at this point, where was he being led by his other half, his enemy? His enemy... is Pure Vanilla his enemy? He wasn't honestly sure.
Either way, he felt like he would pass out any second, and couldn't help but lean on the arm that supported him, as much as he hated to let such vulnerability show in-front of the other. He felt the world spinning around him, people casted him looks he knew were disgusted, though he couldn't linger on any one shape too long or he might puke.
His head was fuzzy, his feet were sore, his legs were on fire, his stomach ached-
He was sitting in a booth.
When did that happen? He did not know. All he registered now were to two heterochromatic eyes that felt like they were staring into his very soul. He swallowed down the very sickness he felt in his gut and forced himself to speak.
"What are you looking at," he muttered, sounding not as harsh as he intended, and more dead to the world.
"You," Pure Vanilla answered simply, drawing a groan from the other.
He let himself look around at his surroundings, he was now in what must be some cafe, (judging by the big sign on the wall that said 'cafe'...) it was relatively empty, only a few people sat at tables, drinking coffee, eating a pastry, or talking softly amongst each other.
He noticed a few people glance his way, but quickly snapped their gaze back to their own business when they noticed him also looking. He sighed, knowing it was too late to try to keep hiding his identity. He reached up and took his hat off, sitting beside him on the booth's bench.
"So," Pure Vanilla drawled, "why haven't you eaten this whole time? You could have told me if you weren't ready to leave your room yet, I'd've gotten you something to eat."
Shadow Milk sighs, turning his attention back to the cookie in front of him. It was amusing, honestly, their sheer contrast. Pure Vanilla sat over there with his stupid fancy hat... crown... thingy, and flowing robes, basically glowing. Across from him sat this raggedy thing, thin as hell, looking like he hadn't slept in a millenia, (which is not false...) with messy hair and wearing just a sweater and sweatpants. He didn't even have shoes on.
"I..." he couldn't admit he forgot he needed to eat. That would be humiliating. That would be stupid, and Shadow Milk Cookie is NOT stupid...
"I forgot," Shadow Milk Cookie shrugs.
"You forgot!?" Pure Vanilla exclaims, pausing to calm himself before continuing, "you forgot to eat..? How do you forget to eat?! That's a basic life skill! You nearly fainted back there from hunger, how did you forget!?"
"Yeah, well I didn't need to eat for the past millennia, so I wasn't quite used to needing to do so in order to not die. I... forgot the feeling, the feeling of hunger. I couldn't identify it," he rubs his pounding head, looking at the wood patterns on the table. "My magic prevented me from going hungry. But I don't have that anymore now, do I?" he looked back at Pure Vanilla accusingly.
"I didn't remove your powers with the intention of making you starve yourself to death... If I'd known you lacked basic living functions I'd've been more cautious with how we left you to fend for yourself," he retorts defensively, then sighs and looks at him softly, "I am sorry, Shadow Milk. I should have made sure you were alright and not have just left you to your own accord. That is my fault."
Shadow Milk just stares at him, not unused to his apologies, but still surprised by the genuine tone in his words. He just sighs and looks away.
Why would he care about me like that? After everything I did to him...? I don't deserve that.
But he said nothing, and let the weight of silence fill the air around the pair.
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