Cherish || A Chase x Sweetie Fanfiction ||

(S3-C11) • Turned Stones •

Sweetie's head felt light as she tried to move her body, lids twitching in her attempt to open her eyes. She succeeded in the end, catching the portrait of The Princess hung on the faintly dusty wall in front of her bed.

"Hello?"

Her voice pulled the attention of the closest individual, who turned to her just as she turned to him. It was a pup, whose body was covered in black, yet his face was shown to her with clear distinctions, the mask absent.

"Chase?"

"I'm glad you're finally awake, shrimp." He smiled, the female turning further to catch sight of her given mask laying on top of her bedside table.

"How did you take it off? I have yet to figure out how but it seems that it's not a necessity anymore."

"It's complicated," Chase whispered loud enough for Sweetie to hear, hovering a paw over the mask.

Sweetie narrowed her eyes to find the same gadget she made had miniature mountains growing from above it, or rather, the matter was attracted to the Shepherd's paw, like he was its host. It was a stupendous sight, for it's as if the equipment was conscious, having the cognitive ability to choose who to connect to. She knew it was sort of alive already but not to this extent.

Whenever Chase removes his paw the gadget returns to its former shape, giving the Terrier suspecting clues on what's occurring.

"The equipment had long been subconscious in working despite the lack of use, until you arrived, that is. I guess my regenerative nanotechnology worked, almost like a superpower. Think Eddie Brock and Venom, for example, yet here, the symbiote has no real decisive consciousness, needing to rely on who it's attached to. Although, this model may or may not require a favoured and compatible subject to function, similar to the two given examples, and that's saying without the commands of what realism it might form into when its possessor thinks of something—with its unnoted limits. Wait, is it even connected to the brain? It's possible it doesn't have a neurological link and is living off what it sees, like ducklings when imprinting."

Sweetie hummed, almost unable to exit the technical world she dived into all of a sudden. It kind of spooked Chase, who replied, "You do know that I don't understand anything that you're saying, right? It's like teaching a toddler geometry."

Both pups earned a small fit of laughter, Sweetie lacking the usual snort. However, right after, it was nothing but silence. They just observed the surroundings. Mostly the female, actually. She found the windows closed and the curtains down, and turning towards the doorknob on the only door in the room, its lock was turned. No wonder the brown canine was fine with removing the mask when he figured out how.

It wasn't long until Chase felt that Sweetie was now able to reply to the countless questions in his head, going with the most obvious: "How are you feeling?" He heard a hum from her, turning to him with a wondering expression before she stared forward.

Slowly, she lifted herself up from her spot, sitting down and looking at her forepaws, one of which—the right one—had a bandage wrapped around her wrist.

"I feel fine. Maybe a little feeble? How long have I been asleep?"

"Almost three days."

Sweetie turned her sight back to the Shepherd, her worried face asking for clarification. With the Shepherd's expression remaining the same as before, stoic and unmoving, it confirmed the Terrier's question.

"Oh, that's pretty long," she said, her forepaws gripping on the blanket that covered her lower half. Her face was blank and her breathing was calm. Indeed, even her mind was empty, but within the blankness, there was an itch to know what happened to her, for her memories failed her. Even as the Shepherd asked her if she remembered suddenly, she had no reply.