#rewritten ugh

Even on all fours, he’s taller than her by a long shot. 

Breeze knows she should be at least slightly afraid, slightly perturbed when she finds Tick full-on Celestial, covered in sparkling lake water, with Mermiie feathers stuck between his gills. He’s pale as a sheet, the only remnants of his natural bright pink hue present around his paws, which shine with a strange shade of blue.

At first he growls at her, little emotion besides rage present in his eyes, but the closer she gets, the quieter the growl becomes, until he’s purring passively, his normally violet eyes a sickly, sad shade of magenta. Liquid static of the same color drips from his eyes like tears, and he’s careful not to let any get on the bat, who eyes him cautiously, even as he slowly trotted around her. 

The odd static has taken on a solid form as well, Breeze realizes, watching the frilly, dark pink fins on Tick’s back twitch. But there’s no anger or violence in the Celestial’s movements, so she’s not afraid anymore, even though she knows she should be. 

“Did you fight the Mermiies?” she questions, protective. Tick’s gills and fins droop slightly, his eyes shimmering with a sapient level of melancholy, his absent-minded trot becoming frantic. It’s then when Breeze notices the small, yet painful looking, scrapes and cuts lining Tick’s upper back and sides, the sparkling water and static especially prominent. “They hurt you, didn’t they?”

Tick whimpers, then glances towards the unnatural lake, the sad whine shifting to a snarl. His screen glitches slightly, and he cuts off, shaking his head. Frowning, Breeze steps closer, despite herself, and Tick snaps his head towards her, his wide, watery eyes narrowing with a glitch. 

Garbled words flash across his screen, which Breeze barely catches, her breath halting. 

“Not all here... stay back... not Tick.”

“What?” she breathes, and Tick whimpers again, holding his head low. 

“Not safe,” flashes quickly across the display, before being replaced by, “Need cure... before I snap.”

Breeze stares deeply into his eyes, searching for any traces of the anger. A small frown threatens to cross her features, before she sighs, smiling warmly.

“But you won’t,” she reassures. She’s tired of breaking people’s hopes down; she’s going to help someone for once. “You can’t.”

(She knew that it wasn’t really him, just a hollow copy, but she can’t stand to see any variation of Tick sad, even if he’s a Celestial. Even if he won’t remember.)

It’s Tick’s turn to study her features, a single error sign flashing across his face before he looks away, twitching. 

“You... are... sure..?” 

The words are a bit hard to read, appearing slowly, and Breeze can tell that he’s about to lose himself again, one wing reaching for her bag. She forces a wider smile as her wing-paws close around a vial of concentrated sunlight, wanting to avoid alarming the Celestial. 

The momentarily peaceful Celestial lets out a trill, then leans closer to the bat, nuzzling his screen against her cheek. She jolts at the touch, feeling how strangely cold he is, before uncorking the vial of sunlight, expression blank.

“See you in the morning, Tick.” 

The corrupted axolotl squeaks as the concentrated sunlight splashes against him, his eyes filling with light the color of his normal eyes before his screen went bright, his features engulfed by the light. Breeze grunts as he goes limp, barely catching him as he loses consciousness. The constructs formed by the static vanish in puffs of sparkling energy, dissipating into the air along with a portion of the spectral fog, and the bat finds herself smiling genuinely, watching as Tick’s natural hue of pink returns, his breathing soft. 

Gently, she lowers him to the ground, reaching for a vial of glowing ink from her supply pack. A part of her is nauseous at the idea of recreating the Moon Rune after this, but she steels herself, terrified at the thought of Tick being as susceptible to the moon’s darkness as this. 

With a deep breath, the flying fox begins her task.

She’d worked all through the night on the pattern, and it wasn’t until sunlight began to peek through the trees on the horizon that she heard it.

“B-breeze?” the high-pitched, soft voice startled the bat from her work, a tool not unlike a pumpkin carving knife held loosely in her paws. Magical ink dripped from the tool as she looked up  abruptly, her eyes heavy and tired.

Quicker than the bat would think possible, the axolotl Sparkyr had stirred from his near comatose state, his eyes, back to the bluish shade of violet, filling with intelligent curiosity as he gazed at his surroundings. 

“Where are we?” he asked slowly. A residual glitch flashed across his screen, and Breeze had to stop herself from chuckling as Tick, acting on impulse, swatted at his own face, one eye twitching before he sat up, nearly hitting Breeze as he turned around to face her fully. “What happened?”

The flying fox narrowed her eyes, exhaustion clear on her features as she prepared to explain, before Tick’s gaze landed on the lake, his breath audibly catching. 

“Oh.”

“Uh... you went Celestial again,” Breeze said cautiously, watching as her friend’s bright eyes dimmed a bit, his features quivering. 

“Okay.” The Sparkyr hybrid’s eyes snapped back to Breeze, worry replacing the hollow fear as quickly as it came. “Did I... did it hurt you?” 

Startlingly quickly, Breeze shook her head, dropping her equipment so that she could gesture wildly. 

“Of course not! You controlled yourself. You didn’t hurt me,” she reassured him. 

He looked away, skeptical. “I don’t remember that.”

Breeze smiled slightly, staring into Tick’s eyes. “But it was you, and I could see it. Even if you weren’t all there, your heart was.” 

Tick sighed, looking down at his paws, watching as his claws glinted in the sunlight.. A strangely distant memory of the very same claws shining with Celeste’s light flashed in his mind’s eye, and he flinched. 

“It tried to fight the Mermiies, didn’t it?” he whispered. Phantom aches ripped at his sides, clawing at him and sending waves of nausea through him, straight from his core. “Nearly lost.”

“It’s okay, Tick-”

“It’s not. Not with this.”

Breeze found herself frowning at his dejected behavior, her heart aching at the sight. “You can’t just wallow in guilt forever. An optimistic axolotl once told me that any problem’s better with friends and tea.”

Tick found himself laughing bitterly, his paws clenching into fists. “Not this. Not when I’m some kind of Pix-Fae hybrid and runes don’t even help me.” He glanced at Breeze for a second before looking back to his claws, his screen dimming. “I think I’d rather be half ghost or something than... whatever this is.” 

Sighing, Breeze grabbed him by the shoulders, frowning with determination. 

Softly, she continued her argument, “No, you’re just some monster, Tick. Sparkyr, Wherewolf, Celestial or otherwise, you’ve got to be the optimistic one between us, right?” She chuckled. “I don’t think the world would be the same without a ball of sunshine like you, no matter what form you take.”   

“Guess you’ll have to do, then,” he spat back, and the bat could nearly sense the pain in his words, like he wanted to be happy again, only to feel like he didn’t deserve it. 

Breeze cringed, reminded of herself, then shook her head. “That’s not me, though.” She pointed to the Sparkyr. “And this isn’t you. I know.”

“But...” he hiccuped, and the emotional dams broke. 

A small, pitiful sob left Tick as he covered his eyes, his tears dripping as clear, salty liquid instead of static. He just about collapsed into the bat’s arms, his blue screen filling with flushed pink to match the rest of him. Breeze jumped slightly at the sudden movement, only to sigh, patting the tall axolotl’s back.

“It’s okay, Tick.”

 Looking up, he mumbled, “Are you sure?” A tiny, reluctant smile quirked at the corners of his mouth, and he blinked away tears, searching the flying fox’s face for any doubt in him. He squeezed the almost blush bat once more before breaking the comforting hug, sniffling. “What if the Moon Rune breaks again? If I h-h-hurt-”

“You won’t, not anymore,” Breeze nodded, still feeling slightly strange at the notion of being the optimistic one in the situation. With a grunt, the little bat jumped to her feet, tossing her tools into her bag as she looked to Tick, who let out a deep breath, resigned with the bat’s newfound optimism. “Now, what do you say we get out of this dump and get that tea?”

(She was done breaking people’s hopes down; it was only right, to undo the damage before it was too late.)

She held out a paw to the axolotl, who could only stare, a different kind of tears welling up in his eyes.

“I guess you’re right...”

Tick couldn’t help the widening smile that spread across his face, wiping away his tears.

“Forgive and forget, huh?”