Groundhog

Every morning, the first thing the Victorious, the city's top Superhero team, did was check on Groundhog.

Groundhog could shape-shift, but their real power was an odd form of fail-safe/time-travel. If something went badly wrong, the day would reset for them, granting a do-over. If Groundhog was undisturbed, everything was fine. If Groundhog was upset, or repeated any of the code-phrases to signal that they were on a re-set… well, that was when Shit-Got-Real, as the kids said.

Groundhog was making pancakes, hair covered by one of those towel-caps that were currently-trending. Morning showers weren't necessarily a Bad-Sign, but not part of Groundhog's normal-day-routine either. Slipstream and Heracles exchanged glances. "Everything OK this morning?"

Groundhog flipped the pan, not looking up at them. "It is now."

Ah, they must have finally ended a longer-than-usual reset cycle. Groundhog always favoured a bit of self-care and pampering after one of those. Not that the Victorious could blame them; there was a lot of behind-the-scenes work that went into figuring out how to stop a re-set.

The two Heroes sat down, helping themselves to pancakes and syrup. "So, what was the problem?"

Their Sidekick finished the batch and put the pan in the sink to cool before they answered, letting the two Heroes eat. "You two, as it turns out."

Slipstream felt suddenlt queasy. "What?"

Groundhog glared. "Do you know, I don't get back the time from all those re-sets? A seven-day-cycle is a week of my life. I aged a year because you two idiots think you're too good to listen to my warnings, so I had to go through re-set after re-set!"

They leaned against the counter, calm and casual. "That's when I realised I didn't need to change the circumstances, just the players."

Heracles wanted to throw-up. But it wasn't guilt churning their stomach. They doubled over around a violent cramp. It felt like food poisoning, but the only thing they'd eaten had been... "What did you do?"

Groundhog's easy smile twisted into a sinister smirk, and they straightened from their exhausted slump. Warning sirens started shrieking in the Heroes' heads. Betrayal from an enemy-turned-ally was expected, but a Team-mate?

Teams knew everything about each other. Love lives, deepest fears, weaknesses, secret identities... they all but lived in each other's pockets, and that took Trust. How could one reforge an old bond, once that trust was gone?

Sidekick betrayals were rare, because unlike a battlefield screw up or an argument, there was no coming back from an in-team Betrayal.

Groundhog knew that. But because there was no turning back, there was nothing the Victorious could offer to save themselves, either. "Found people who appreciate and listen to me."

Slipstream's vision tunnelled. A door opened and several figures appeared, familiar through the haze that clouded their eyes. One spoke. "The Oleander-Honey worked?"

The last words they heard were from the person they'd trusted with everything. "Perfectly. I'm Time-Lord, now. Let Groundhog die with the fools I once thought were my friends."