"CHAOS CONTROL!"
That wasn't part of the script.
Pretzel's eyes snapped open as the world, as reality twisted around her. The beach beneath her fell away, and Pretzel scrambled to her feet, claws scrabbling for purchase and wings flaring for balance. Heat. Heat like a fire, slamming against her. Where was it coming from? A moment before they'd been on the beach, the sun blistering overhead and the ocean cool at their back, but now they stood on jagged stone, far from the sun's reach, illuminated only by the crackle and hiss of lava below their foothold.
It nearly fooled her. Perhaps it had worked; perhaps this was where they were meant to return to their centuries long rest. She'd expected worse, frankly. But no— Sonic was here. Twice. That couldn't be right.
Instinctively Pretzel's body wheeled to face Light Gaia even while her mind reached for Sonic. This had to be Light Gaia's doing. It was supposed to be the honorable one, they'd had a deal—
Something was there. Some great and terrible presence crawled through Pretzel's mind, cold and dark and cruel as the ocean's abyss. Pretzel's eyes snapped up, and her body shuddered to a halt.
It loomed over them, cold and cruel. Long, thin arms (like Pretzel), reptilian green eyes (like Pretzel), sleek scales reflecting the lava's glow (like Pretzel), glowing blue claws (like Pretzel), reeking of dark energy and malice (like Pretzel). Light Gaia was recognizable: an eagle, a creature of sun and light. One look and you understood Light Gaia, and where you stood with it, perfectly. But this… this thing… It could be called snake-like, in that it was long and slender and scaly, but snakes didn't have that many eyes, or teeth, or arms, or tentacles. Snakes weren't monsters. And this thing was. There was nothing else for it; it was a manifestation of hate and darkness, and maybe it wasn't so unlike Light Gaia after all, because when she looked at it Pretzel understood it immediately. It wanted to destroy the light. And it would drag the entire world down with it to do so.
Pretzel shuddered, folding her wings around herself. As if they could do anything to protect her from that thing. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't look away.
"You're me," she whispered.
The thing's gaze snapped to her, and Pretzel felt in an instant what it meant to be ripped apart, dissected, recognized, known.
If only it would attack her, see her as a threat, the same as the blue hedgehog kneeling on the stone. But when it looked at her, it was only with mild interest. Why would it think of her as a threat? They were the same.
They were Dark Gaia.
To Pretzel it seemed an eternity, but it could only have been a few seconds. Then the world twisted again, the stone and magma falling away beneath her claws, and she was stumbling onto the sandy beach once more. The ocean lapped behind her, cool and soothing. She hardly noticed it.
Was that what she had been? Was that what she would be again, when time scoured away her memories of smiles, burnt pastries, dusty bottles and gentle waves? Was that what she was meant to be? She didn't— she didn't want to be that. If locking herself away again— if entering the cycle again— meant becoming that… she didn't want it. She couldn't do this.
Stomach churning, Pretzel took a shaky step away from Light Gaia. It didn't notice, its eyes wide and startled and staring at nothing. So that hadn't been its doing. Pretzel wanted to close her eyes again, shut out the sight of the blue sky and the gentle ocean, but if she did she feared she'd see that—that thing imprinted on her eyelids. She'd thought she could do it. She'd thought she could be brave, heroic even, give up to her fate to… not save the world, maybe, but at least postpone the end. But after seeing that monster, her momentary illusion of courage was dashed to pieces. She couldn't do it. She couldn't do it. She was a coward, and selfish; she always had been. Why had she thought she could be anything else?
It shouldn't be a problem. Light Gaia would see it through, even if she couldn't. The noble one, she thought bitterly. Of course it would keep its word. Of course, were their positions reversed (a monster of teeth and cruelty, a tiny glimmer of light and courage, a determined blue mortal who stood between them), Light Gaia wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice itself.
Fine then. Let it make the play.
Except it wasn't doing anything.
Pretzel broke from her thoughts like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Sonic (of course it would be Sonic) and Blaze were climbing to their feet, while Shadow knelt on the sand nearby. They all looked exhausted, like they'd just swam across an ocean (or opened a window to another reality). But even so the determination was clear on their faces as Sonic and Blaze stood, facing down the Gaias hand in hand. Blaze was holding something in her free hand (a Chaos Emerald? No; this burned in a way the Chaos Emeralds didn't), but Sonic's was empty. What was he planning?
And then Light Gaia screamed.
Pretzel jumped back, wide-eyed. Light Gaia writhed in the sand, wings flapping and claws lashing in a blind, helpless frenzy. A swipe from one of those claws would be agony, yet for once Pretzel wasn't afraid of it. It wasn't attacking; it was in pain. She could feel it, the light energy draining from her opposite, pulled to…
Sonic. Of course. She could see the pain written on his face, the grit of his teeth as he resisted screaming. She could see the light flooding him, burning him, painting his fur, reshaping his body, scourging his mind. Just as it had happened each morning since she'd met him. But not this time.
Pretzel reached out. She'd done it before, once in a hotel room to bring rest, once in an abandoned laboratory to bring darkness (and pain), and once as an acceptance of offered help. But this would not be so simple as the first time, she refused to let it be as painful as the second, and unlike the third this wasn't Sonic's idea. Probably he'd tell her to save her energy, insist he had it handled. Certainly Pretzel wouldn't listen.
Her shadow overlapped Sonic's, darkening it, reinforcing it. She closed her eyes, forcing the image of the monster from her mind, all the uncertainty and fear that would only taint the process. Instead she thought of cool springs, gentle rains, the softness of dusk and the quiet of night, of beautiful snows and peaceful rest. Carefully; let nothing stir the waters. Let it flow, gently, not the fierce torrent of Light Gaia's energy. She could feel it, the white energy burning inside Sonic, but she didn't let it rush her. Predictably, Sonic (a known idiot) tried to bat her away, but she pushed back. She let the energy drain from her. It was exhausting, of course it was, but a strange relief came with it as well. She felt lighter; smaller, more vulnerable, but lighter.
The moment she was finished, her careful calm vanished. She spun—nearly tripping over her own, now much smaller form—, ready for Light Gaia's raging screams and lashing claws, furious retaliation for what had just been stolen from it. Had Sonic's little scheme worked? Because if it hadn't, if Light Gaia was still—
She stopped short.
Where Light Gaia had once been was… a dog? A tiny thing with dark red and light cream fur, insect-like yellow wings, and wide, bewildered golden eyes. It was looking around, blinking innocently, like a child that had just woken from its nap. It looked much like the little creature she'd seen in that monster world, except this one had a longer tail, brighter fur, an additional pair of ears, and yellow and gold where the other had had green.
Naively Pretzel hoped she was wrong, she had to be wrong, but she reached out and— there it was. The light, pure white and burning, compacted into this… creature. This wide-eyed, innocent creature. It turned and blinked at her curiously. Pretzel backed away. She tried to hiss, but it came out more as a choked sound. The nausea was back in full force. She tugged her gaze away and tried to focus on something, anything else. Sonic. Was Sonic alright?
He was still standing there, right where he'd been before he'd made his stupidest decision yet, which was saying a lot. Unfortunately her energy had not, as she'd hoped, canceled out Light Gaia's. Instead they'd both settled into an even mix within Sonic. Settled; not volatile, not fighting. Light and Dark were supposed to be opposites, north and south poles, so how come Sonic could hold both their energies so comfortably?
Well, "comfortably". He did have wings now. And significantly more fur.
Blaze and Shadow were also there, and alive, and unlike certain blue somebodies, they were both wholly un-mutated. They were all three of them staring at the— thing, which was making it a lot harder for Pretzel to ignore it. Sonic even sighed with relief. Reluctantly Pretzel looked at the creature, too. It still looked entirely too confused and nonthreatening.
"Of course he'd be cute," she muttered. Innocent as could be. Like the useless mascot characters in the cartoons Pretzel had seen on the hotel TV. It'd be a real hit with the kids.
Sonic glanced over at her, but thankfully Rouge burst into the clearing before he could say anything. What was there to say, anyway?
Rouge was probably talking abour something important, but Pretzel was struggling to focus on the words. The dog thing was sitting on the sand, looking small and confused. It— he didn't remember anything, did he? A moment's twist of fate and just like that, everything gone. And everyone was acting like it was nothing. Like this was fine, and normal, and she should feel fine and normal about it.
"What are we going to do with you two?" Sonic was saying.
You two. Like they were a pair. A duo. The last in the box of free puppies, two kittens dumped in a river, bound and drowning together.
Stop. Stop that. Pretzel dug her claws into the sand, gritting her teeth. Stop thinking like that. If she didn't get a handle on herself soon Sonic would pick up on it and then everyone would ask questions and look concerned when all Pretzel wanted to do was disappear into the ocean, escape those innocent questioning gazes and the whirlwind thoughts that kept stabbing into her skull.
An unnatural drone filled the air. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from above them, not inside her mind. Futilely she flattened her ears, but the sound only grew louder, drowning out Sonic's enthusiastic yell and the pounding of the surf. The sound petered out as the plane rolled to a stop, and Amy and Tails jumped out. Alive. Thank the stars, they were alive. Not dead at the hands of Light Gaia's mob. For once Pretzel had been right.
"Did you defeat Light Gaia?" Tails asked, proving he was the only one there with a brain in his skull.
Did we defeat Light Gaia? The dog thing was still there. Small. Harmless.
"Yeah, he's right over there." How was Sonic so casual?
Did we defeat Light Gaia? He's right there. We aren't safe. Are we safe?
Tails was eyeing the thing warily. At least Pretzel wasn't the only one.
"Better get a move on," Rouge was saying, and suddenly there was a rush of movement as everyone scrambled onto the plane.
Pretzel had definitely missed something. Where were they going? Was she supposed to go with them? Stay here? Slink into the ocean and disappear now that her purpose was fulfilled (did we defeat Light Gaia?). She hesitated, shifting on the sand, but then Sonic picked up the dog creature (picked it up, he picked it up, doesn't he know it's—), and impulse took over. She jumped onto Sonic's shoulder, baring her teeth at the creature. It didn't matter if he was small now, or if he'd forgotten what he'd done. She'd had the same thing happen to her, and she'd still been Dark Gaia. She'd still been a monster. She'd still been dangerous.
(And Sonic had still tried to be her friend. Still trusted her. They all had.)
(If they were going to keep making the same mistake, then she'd just have to make sure they didn't pay the price.)
There were more words said that Pretzel didn't listen to, and then the world twisted and they were on a different beach. This one didn't smell quite as much like ash and smoke. The dog creature jumped off Sonic's shoulder to play in the sand, and the others followed suit, spreading out and stretching their legs. Sonic stayed where he was on the plane's wing, kicking his feet idly as he watched the ocean. Pretzel could feel his exhaustion. It lay like a blanket, heavy and dull, yet reassuring in its own way. The exhaustion of someone who fought and lived.
She stayed on his shoulder. He was surprised at that, she could tell, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. The tired but certain thrum of his heartbeat soothed, if not entirely removed, the prickles of fear and resentment and uncertainty. There was something about Sonic that seemed to be constantly moving and changing, and yet at the same time wholly still and unchangeable. Like the wind. Ever moving, ever the same.
That didn't mean he couldn't be hurt. A lot of people seemed to make that assumption, even Sonic himself, but it was a lie. There were scars. There would be more scars, after all this. Some of them caused by her.
"I'm sorry for messing with your mind," Pretzel said quietly, watching the others play in the sand.
Sonic sighed. "I get why you did it."
"Shouldn't have."
"Maybe not," Sonic agreed. "But I… I dunno. I probably would have done the same thing."
Pretzel sincerely doubted that.
He glanced over at her. "That… what I saw. Did you…?"
"I don't know what you saw, exactly," Pretzel admitted. "I knew I had to make you feel… negative. The opposite of what Light Gaia makes people feel. Sad. Afraid. Guilty. Alone. So I put my shadow over you, focused on those feelings, and…" she shrugged. "I guess your mind filled in the gaps."
Sonic nodded slowly. "I figured. And Shadow?"
"He was the one who pointed out I should be able to break you free, but I don't think he entirely knew what that would… mean." Pretzel shuffled her wings uncomfortably. "Even I didn't, really. It could have gone really wrong. I thought it would just free you from Light Gaia, not do— that."
"I do like to surprise," Sonic said with a crooked smile. "Just. Uh. Please don't do that again."
"I won't," Pretzel said. She'd never forget the pain on Sonic's face, how alien he'd looked when the darkness took over. Even if that hadn't been all her, to make him feel pain that great… No. Never again.
"Then we're good," he said, with a real smile. Like it was that easy. How did he make it seem so easy?
They settled back into silence, broken only by Sonic's occasional laugh at the antics of his friends. Pretzel stayed curled around his shoulders, trying to feel as at peace as he was. But still the prickles of unease, the throbbing fear, the ricocheting thoughts, and worse, the nauseating feeling of wrongness continued to swirl in Pretzel's mind until a smell on the breeze distracted her. She lifted her head, blinking. The breeze had cooled, ruffling her fur with something like fondness.
It started to rain.
Pretzel sat up, staring in wonder as water fell from the sky. Little droplets, splattering against the ground. One or two of them would have amounted to nothing, but they continued to fall steadily, washing away the smoke and ash, transforming the world into something that felt almost familiar. Almost right.
"Nice, isn't it?" Sonic said softly, tipping his muzzle up to let the rain run down his fur.
Pretzel followed his lead, letting the rivulets run down her fur and scales and wings, cleaning away the lingering feeling of filth and grime, like it could wash away all the stains of the past few days (had it been only days, since she woke up? It felt like a lifetime.) Some part of her had recognized it, had known what rain was, but she'd never seen it herself in the short time she'd been conscious. Seeing it now, clouds covering the sun that had burned so unnaturally the past few days, feeling the coolness wash away Light Gaia's fierce heat, was like a piece falling into place. It seemed to wash away not just the actual dirt and grime, but the tangled bristly thoughts and anxious feelings as well. For the first time since she'd woken up, she actually felt almost… safe.
She looked at the dog creature, crouched under the plane wing and watching the rain warily. Did he feel as she had? Like he'd woken up alone in a hostile world, not belonging and not welcomed? Did he feel a lingering guilt for things he didn't fully remember? Was he afraid?
It seemed impossible, to think of Light Gaia being scared. Yet the thought lingered.
Maybe that was why, when Blaze brought up the subject of the dog creature, Pretzel found herself volunteering to look after him. Maybe that was why she tolerated his onslaught of enthusiastic gratitude with rolled eyes instead of bared teeth. Maybe that was why she accepted Amy's invitation for both of them to stay in her apartment.
Maybe. Or maybe it was just because she knew she was the best and safest option to make sure he didn't try anything again. Yes. That was why. Sonic, Blaze, Shadow, Rouge, and maybe, tentatively, Tails and Amy—they were Pretzel's friends now. Her only friends. They knew who she was, and they'd accepted her anyway. They were kind to her. They protected her.
She'd do the same for them.
Even if it meant sharing an apartment with Light Gaia.
Pretzel flattened her ears as the dog creature—apparently having deemed her a new friend, despite every evidence to the contrary—continued chattering way too loudly considering how uncomfortably close he was. Pretzel drew her wings tighter around herself, digging her claws into the sand to keep from slashing at him. Oh this? This was going to suck.
