Work Text:
Watching you is the worst kind of magic.
Every spine of pink rustling softly as you move, every line of your face as you slip into one of the smiles never far from your lips. I've long since committed you to memory over the years.
But I still watch you all the same.
And every time you breathe, stretched lazily out on the grass, I can't help but feel a whisper of pride.
Because today you're breathing because of me.
Sonic saved the day today. Sonic always saves the day. He fought the villains, he challenged the darkness. He stood resolute against the worst that evil had to offer and came out victorious in the end.
But me? I saved the world.
At least for the moment.
At least until next time.
But these thoughts are too dark for this green hill, so I push them deep. Plenty of trauma to unpack later already. The feel of metal sliding into my flesh, the expression on Sonic's face as he stared at my broken form. How disappointed I was when I tried to shoot three people in front of him and missed...
I push those thoughts down too, sitting in silence on the grass, staring up at the sun as the wind blows through my fur as though its light might clear away my shadow.
Now is the time for celebration, after all.
Sonic raises his voice nearby, bickering with Knuckles about who would have done it better, had Knuckles been there this time. I guess when two people are the best at something "rival" is the equivalent of "friend" between the two of them? I wouldn't know.
I'm not the best at anything.
I watch them too, shaking my head, still wearing a smile. It's not often my friends are all in the same place without something blowing up. But… Wasn't he the one who wanted to take a nap in the first place?
If you were awake, you'd have probably whacked Knuckles by now. Sonic is your hero too, after all. And like me, being near him changes you, like magic, from the person I know to the person he knows.
Possessive, obsessive, compulsive.
But right now you're asleep. Calm. At peace. You wouldn't have thought you'd died today. Or close enough to not make a difference. Or maybe that's why you're sleeping? Life sucked out by the mad doctor's latest machine, life stuck right back in by me pulling a miracle from between my two fuzzy tails. Even Knuckles isn't his boisterous self after the ordeal. The two of them are only arguing, after all.
And celebrating. Of course. We're all celebrating a miracle. That the world isn't dead. That the day was saved.
That you're only sleeping.
This time.
How many times have I saved you now?
I honestly don't keep track. Today isn't new, by any means. If Sonic is the sun, you're a moth, trapped in his orbit, burning when you get too close. The things we deal with aren't normal enough for ordinary people, even if you are extraordinary. Have I saved you more often than Sonic at this point?
Maybe? Sonic always has me handle the fine details he can't be bothered to deal with. And when the day needs saving, when the villain needs facing? That's what you are to him. A detail.
But it hardly matters. If Sonic is the sun, I am the moon. I reflect his light, but lack his warmth. Nothing can change the fact that I'm a detail too. A footnote in the story of better people.
But what if I was?
If I was your hero, would you gaze at me with the same desperation? Would you follow me to the ends of the earth as you do Sonic? Would I be the one cursed to only see you at your worst, while you showcase your bravery and kindness for the rest of the world to see? Would you break yourself against me as you do him?
Or could, perhaps, this cold, dim light of mine save you? If your jealousy and obsession burned less brightly, could the real you shine through? Instead of a little moth burning under the sun, could you fly with the moon?
Perhaps, if I could be your hero, if Sonic could see the Amy I see, he might love you too?
I push those thoughts deepest of all, locked safe behind a smile. There aren't enough miracles. No matter how much like Sonic I try to be, no matter how many times I save the world, I'm nobody's hero.
Not even my own.
I sigh, curling up in my tails as the wind blows through my fur, and the sun shines down on that green hill.
I used to be better at celebrating.
The End