Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It took his household exactly seventy minutes to catch him.

"Why were you out here, Sonic?"

He glares up from his forced kneeling position, scowling at the man as he carefully picks his words.

He wishes he could lie. He's wished so before, but perhaps less than would be expected. It's just another strange thing about him.

"I want to travel." It's not a lie. He loves exploring, and he would consider it a major bonus to leaving.

The man gestures for him to continue. "I've seen every inch of our territory. I want to see something new." It's a little hyperbolic, but accurate enough to his feelings to not be a lie.

"And so you snuck out in the middle of the night?"

"You would have stopped me." It's not a lie. He just doesn't mention that they would have other reasons for doing so.

No, the real reasons he left are making good use of his distraction, and have probably reached the gate by now. At least, he hopes they have.

"Hm." The man narrows his eyes at him. "And if we hadn't, would you have returned on your own?"

He freezes. Damn it. That's a yes-or-no question. "No."

"Interesting. Tell me, Sonic, if you know every inch of our territory, then why weren't you heading for the closer gate?"

No. He doesn't answer. He knows it's over, but he can at least stall him. Give the kids a chance to get away.

"Sonic, if I went down to the nursery, what would I find?"

He knows. "Beds. Tables. Chairs. Carpets." He's determined to get in one last bit of rebellion before whatever punishment he'll be given for this. It can't make things much worse.

"And how many children?"

He doesn't answer.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sonic." The man shakes his head. "But you're young, and foolish. It doesn't seem fair to simply send you to the dungeons for the rest of your days. So I'll give you a choice. Either accept our justice, or..."

He leans a bit closer. "Promise that you will never reveal your true identity, or the existence of the Fair Folk."

"What?"

"Well? This is what you wanted, isn't it? Exile into that world of liars and fools?"

That's true. He hates to admit it, but it's true. And it's a much better deal than rotting in those oubliettes. "I promise."

"Good." The guards holding him suddenly raise their swords. "Make sure he keeps that promise. Then dump him in some backwater. I'll find the brats." The man turns to leave.

Panic begins to blossom. "Father -"

Then, the world explodes into pure pain, and he's unconscious.

He wakes up the next day, in the recovery room of a town clinic. It's immediately obvious what they did.

The doctor says that someone found him passed out in the middle of the road, a few miles out of town. He's been asleep for about a day.

Suppressing his dread, Sonic asks him for some food, and a mirror.

They must have healed him. His skin has sealed over the stumps where his wings used to be without so much as a scar, as if the wound was years old (or as if he never had any to begin with). The only thing that breaks the effect is the unnatural sharpness of the protrusions, where a thin layer of flesh covers broken bones.

Why didn't anyone say anything about that?

Sharpness. A thought occurs to him as he nervously runs his hands over his unkempt hair. It's thick, shiny, tough, and oddly sharp – the consistency of blue steel wire. His tail is short, and curves slightly upwards, like a deer's tail. If he shaves it, and styles his hair in just the right way, then with these stumps, he could just about pass for a young, slightly uncanny-valley looking hedgehog.

"I'm Sonic," he says experimentally. "Sonic the Hedgehog." It's a trick he learned a while ago – if he splits the sentence in two, the structure leaves just enough wiggle room to pass.

He ventures a smile. That's one part taken care of. He might just about be able to live here.

Also, this chilli dog thing tastes amazing. He'll have to get some more of those.

It takes Sonic a little while to get used to walking without his wings to counterbalance him. He plays it off as disorientation from his injuries.

It takes him longer to get used to not being able to fly.

But he still has his speed. A little experimenting shows that he can use his glamours, although he can't do much without his promise stopping him. A little unintentional experimenting shows that he still heals quickly, too.

Over the course of a few years, he adjusts. He likes being a Mobian. It feels good to be able to travel anywhere he wants in this massive world.

And, as he finds eventually, it feels good to defend his adoptive home.

Even without flight or illusion, his speed is more than enough to destroy a few robots. He takes to heroics well. It makes him feel like his existence is improving the world, in stark contrast to his previous life.

Robotnik is familiar in many ways, and different in many more. He hates him, but it does give him some cathartic pleasure to be able to outright fight a would-be dictator. He almost doesn't mind when the doctor gets away in the end.

The elated Mobians offer him all kinds of rewards. He rejects most of them out of altruism (and the fact that altruism is no longer a foreign concept makes him feel warm in a way he can't describe), with the exception of one – a small biplane, which he names the Tornado. It means he can travel without having to get on a boat.

And when he's up there, he can almost forget the loss of his wings.

"Never trust a kitsune, Sonic. Unlike us, they can lie to you, and they're far better at it than Mobians."

It's a good thing he was never one to listen to his parents.

Well, to be fair, although he can clearly see that Miles is a kitsune, the boy doesn't know himself. And it's not like he can tell him, either, because of that promise. He's really starting to hate that promise.

It's not entirely surprising that he doesn't know. It happens occasionally. Fae children are abandoned by their parents, for whatever reason – a bet, a bargain, even a game – and grow up without knowledge of their identity. Usually, their magic clues them in, but this is a tortured street kid, and most of his magic is probably being used to keep him alive.

Sonic is trying to change that. It's not easy.

He pulls the kid close as he crouches in the hollow of a large oak, muffling the small whimpers. The taunting cries of the hunting party echo overhead. For Miles' sake, he masks his own fear – while kitsune lack a good number of the Fair Folk's typical weaknesses, he doesn't, and iron weapons are one of the few things he actually fears.

Miles stifles a yell as footsteps pass far too close to them. Sonic smoothes down the windswept fur on his head, trying desperately to soothe him. It's not working.

The thumping and shouting grows a little fainter as they pass, and the kitsune, clinging to him, lets out a quiet sob.

"Shh. It's gonna be okay, Tails," he whispers in response, gently returning the hug.

The affectionate nickname calms the kid fractionally. "I-I didn't think t-they'd really -" He's cut off when one shout rises above the rest, clear enough to be understood.

"Get out here, you demon!"

Miles can't stop himself from yelping. Sonic can't blame him. The noise gets a little louder.

"M-make it stop, Sonic." He's shivering with fear, so badly he can barely speak now.

Sonic can't respond. His mind is racing. The Tornado is broken, crashed on the beach. He can't get off this island without repairing it. Miles could repair it – that was how he had met the kid, when he had found him happily buried headfirst in the engine compartment, and watched in mild horror as he begged for mercy and insisted that he only wanted to fix it. But he didn't have the tools, and he can't get them now. The people on this island hate "demons", and by extension, those who help them.

He's stuck. They aren't going to relent until Miles is -

Until Miles is -

The part of his brain shaped by his childhood has a flash of inspiration.

He looks down at the terrified kitsune. Chances are, though he hasn't checked, he still has the ability. If he's careful, he can pull it off without breaking the promise. Miles is young, and prefers his nickname.

On the other hand, it might just be the most evil thing he can do.

But that's okay, isn't it? It's okay to use a power like that to save someone. It's just the kind of thing his family would have hated.

He can't think of any other solution. He has to save this boy. Out of everyone he's met, Miles might just be his first friend.

"Tails?"

He looks up, startled. "Y-Yes?"

Sonic pauses, choosing his words carefully. "I... I know a trick. To... to make people go away." Not quite a lie, in this scenario, although he's cutting it close. "I'm gonna need you to say something, and then we're gonna run, okay?"

Miles nods nervously. A pit of guilt forms in Sonic's stomach at his determined, tearstained face.

"I'm gonna need you... to give me your name."

"Miles Prower." He gives it without hesitation, and Sonic takes it.

The sounds fade. Miles blinks in confusion. "What was -"

"Okay, ready, Tails?" Sonic speaks quickly, not giving him time to think about it.

"Ready." Miles Tails answers to the name, making it his. Sonic grabs him and leaps from the hollow, running as fast as he dares carrying a kid, away from the mob.

Tails is nestled in his arms, eyes squeezed shut. He doesn't see the way the people slow down, and start talking to each other, confused, as if they had simply forgotten what they were doing.

About a week after they leave the island, it happens. Sonic obtains some money through various chores, and buys Tails a toy – a little stuffed bear. Tails' eyes light up when he sees it, literally. Kitsune are shapeshifting tricksters by trade, after all.

It's actually rather adorable. Less adorable is Tails' reaction to it. Young, untrained shapeshifters have a tendency to let their emotions determine their form.

Four hours later, the jagged horns disintegrate, and Tails passes out in his arms.

He wakes up the next morning sobbing for his unknown parents. Sonic calms him with some candy, and carefully coaxes him to try and control his power.

Tails is understandably hesitant, but eventually closes his eyes and focuses. His form flickers, and a pair of little gold wings appear on his back. He manages to hold them there for a few seconds, before they collapse.

He opens his eyes. There's a new light in them now, one that isn't supernatural in nature.

Tails takes to shapeshifting like a duck to water. He's so good that Sonic theorises that his flight power was a subconscious use of it. Within a few days, he's turning into every animal he sees, camouflaging himself in trees to pounce on his big brother (a title Sonic didn't expect, but is starting to like) playfully, and even managing a passable imitation of the supposed hedgehog himself.

When Robotnik shows up again, he doesn't stand a chance.

Echidnas. They're something of a legend among the Fair Folk. The keepers of the Master Emerald. Powerful, connected to the power of Chaos more deeply than any other race, and unusually unsubtle, choosing to live on a floating island in the Mobian world instead of the safety of the fae lands.

Their power was respected. Their strategies were taught in schools, as examples of what not to do.

Sonic never thought he'd get to meet one.

When the fighting's over, and they get properly acquainted, it turns out that Knuckles doesn't know that much about his heritage, comparatively speaking. He knows what he is, what he can do, and what he can't. Tails is quite curious to know about the inability to lie or break promises, and the weakness to iron. He finds it scientifically fascinating.

Sonic feigns interest, but he has other things on his mind. Like how frustrating it is that he can't fill in the gaps for his little brother and new friend. Like what it would mean for his promise if Knuckles had recognised him. Like the fact that Robotnik had known to use the weaknesses of iron and promises against him, and could easily have done the same to Sonic, if he had only known.

It's a wake-up call, to say the least.

He thought that he could just ignore his past. That he could live as a Mobian for the rest of his life. But he really is going to have to stay paranoid.

And that hurts more than any iron.

Sonic recognises Amy as soon as he meets her.

He's seen her before, back at home, when it was his home. She was a stolen child, raised as a member of a Fair Folk household, just like the kids he had sacrificed his wings for.

He wonders what they're doing now.

Unlike him, she isn't bound by a promise. She's a Mobian, after all, despite everything.

"I ran away," she explains one day, while they sit around a campfire. "They took me when I was pretty young, so I didn't remember my real parents. It took me a long time to find out where I came from."

"Did you find them?" asks Tails with fascination.

She sighs sadly. "Time moves differently in there. When I left, I was still a kid, but it had been hundreds of years."

Tails slumps, and scoots over to give her a sympathetic hug. She smiles faintly. Sonic's concern for the kids leaps.

"It's not all bad. I did find my family – I guess I'd be their great-aunt, really." She laughs. "Weird thought. But they've been great. And hey, at least I have my magic, right?"

She snaps her fingers, and a ball of pink light appears in her hand. In response, Tails shows her one of his favorite tricks, and mimics her colour scheme. Soon, Sonic and Knuckles join in, and there's a little magic show around the campfire.

She doesn't recognise him. That's probably a good thing.

One day, Sonic wakes up in his house. He goes downstairs, and starts making some scrambled eggs (ever since meeting Tails, he's gotten good at cooking). He greets his brother as he stumbles blearily into the kitchen, and shoves a plate under his nose to wake him up.

After breakfast and a quick shower, he runs into the city to pick up a delivery of some plane parts. On the way back, Amy waves him down, and they talk for a while – not really about anything specific, just catching up.

After dropping off the parts, he decides to go for a run. He picks a direction at random, and ends up going over a mountain range. When he pauses on the highest peak, to rest and admire the view, he notes Angel Island in the distance. It's very close to the shore – Knuckles wouldn't have dared to bring it so close a few years ago.

As he sits, his hands automatically drift to his wing stumps. He recalls flying over the mountains of his home territory, over and over, looking for something new. He never found anything.

And in the end, he would always have to return to the household. And then, it was an eternity of scheming. Learning to lie without lying, to manipulate, to steal everything from a person in a few minutes, including free will.

It had never felt like home.

He decides to try something.

"I'm Sonic the Hedgehog."

It's not a lie.

Chapter Text

Twenty-four hours before, Tails is out for a walk. He's been working for hours, trying to finish his project, and he needs to clear his head. Besides, it's a beautiful day, and it seems a shame to waste it cooped up indoors.

"Excuse me!"

He turns around, and sees a man standing by the side of the trail. The man is a tall hedgehog, with burnt orange quills, streaked with dark brown. There's something odd about his eyes – they seem to catch the light more than they should, and Tails can't quite make out what colour they should be.

He could have sworn the man wasn't there a moment ago.

"Yes?"

"May I have your -" He cuts himself off, and narrows his eyes slightly for a moment, in either bemusement or suspicion. Tails can't tell – his face is strangely unreadable.

"Oh, you're Tails the Kitsune, aren't you?"

"Um, yes. Can I help you?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, you can." The man recomposes himself, and smiles pleasantly at him. Pleasantly, but unnervingly. "Would you mind telling me what your real name is?"

He looks askance at him, confused by the strange question. "What do you mean? Tails is my real name."

"Oh, perhaps it is now. But what name did your parents give you?"

"My parents abandoned me. They didn't give me a name." Some primal instinct twitches faintly in the back of his subconscious. His conscious mind doesn't notice. "Sonic named me."

"Did he, now." The man is smiling like a shark. "That's rather unusual, isn't it?"

"I guess? Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. Not to you." He looks over Tails' shoulder, as if there were someone standing behind him. Tails glances back, and sees no one there. When he turns around, the man is gone.

He stands there for a moment, unsure of what to think, rattled in a way he doesn't fully understand. Then, he vanishes, and a small, golden-brown swallow flies up from where he had been standing.

He's not scared, he rationalises. He's just a little confused. Maybe slightly disturbed.

There's no reason to be scared.

Twenty-three hours and fifty-three minutes before, Sonic is sitting on the roof, as usual.

He likes to bask outside on sunny days. It's a rather catlike tendency, really. He has quite a few of those.

Today, though, he seems extra content. He's admiring the view with a big smile, that clearly expresses a sense of things turning for the better.

He recognises the swallow immediately. There's a distinctive, slightly unsure gait to its flight. It swoops down towards the roof, and he doesn't react when the air ripples momentarily and Tails alights next to him.

"Afternoon, buddy." He glances up, pausing when he sees the slightly worried expression. "Did something happen?"

"Not really," replies Tails, sitting down next to him. "But I met a weird guy on the trail."

"Weird how?"

"He kept asking me what my 'real name' was." Tails isn't looking at him. He doesn't see the way his eyes widen.

"That is weird."

"Yeah. I told him my parents didn't give me one, and then – I don't know, he just vanished." Tails looks over. Sonic regains control of his face just in time.

No. There's no way.

Tails looks thoughtful. "Do you think he might have been one of the Fair Folk?"

Yes. Absolutely. The promise tightens around his voice like a noose. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I never really thought about it before, but we're kind of... connected to them, aren't we? I mean, Knuckles is one of them, Amy was raised by them..." He pauses. "And I'm one too, aren't I? I was just wondering if they want to talk to us." He suddenly brightens up. "Hey, maybe my parents are trying to find me!"

"It's possible." Sonic is genuinely surprised that it isn't a lie. He's also surprised that he hasn't given away his growing fear yet – the promise, he supposes, is still wrapped around him, pulling subtly at his expressions.

Tails gives him a big, innocent smile, and changes the subject. Sonic nods along, not really listening.

It had been such a good day. The paranoia had actually lifted for once.

But then again, it's just like them to mess it up now.

Twelve hours and ten minutes before, Tails yawns.

"I'm going to bed. Night, Sonic."

Sonic hums vaguely. That's not like him. He's been lost in thought all day, and Tails is more than a little worried.

"You okay, Sonic?"

He looks up. For a split second, there's a haunted look in his eyes.

"I'm -" He cuts off. "Tails, you know I won't ever abandon you, right?"

Tails blinks. He's never heard that tone from Sonic before.

"Of course I know that!" He bounds over to hug him. "You promised, didn't you?"

Sonic freezes for a moment, before returning the hug. "Yeah. I did, didn't I?" His tone rises as he speaks, the confidence coming back. "Sorry. I guess I'm feeling off today."

"It's fine, Sonic. Love you."

"Night, lil' bro. Love you too."

Eleven hours before, two Fair Folk meet for the first time in years.

"I certainly hope you haven't forgotten the laws of hospitality in your exile, Sonic."

"Get out of my house."

"Oh dear. My confidence in you may have been slightly misplaced."

"What the hell could you possibly want from me now?"

"You hadn't noticed, Sonic? There's no need for hostility. It's been seven years."

"No need for hostility? First you cut off my wings, then you toss me out, and now you show up and expect me to be nice?"

"You don't understand, Sonic. Seven years was the duration of your exile."

Pause.

"Since when?"

"I was under no obligation to tell you exactly how long it would last."

"So, what, that's it? Everything's fine now?"

"You're a talented young man, Sonic. This exile was meant as punishment, yes, but also a learning experience. You always did have too much sympathy."

"You wanted to disillusion me."

"You could put it that way, yes. I felt it would be valuable."

"Is that why you took my wings?"

"The wings of our kind are easy to preserve. They are comparatively harder to reattach, but my healers are talented."

Pause.

"We've been preparing for you for a while now. Everyone is excited to see you return to the family. Your little cousins -"

"You're not my family."

The man cuts off mid-sentence. He looks like he's just been slapped. There is a long pause.

"... How? How could you say -"

"Easily. Now leave me and my family alone."

"They can't be your family. You understand that, don't you? You promised never to tell them who you are."

"Yeah, you made me do that. And you have no idea how much trouble it was. But, y'see, I made another promise."

"What did you do, Sonic?"

"I promised a little kid I'd never abandon him. I like that promise a lot more."

"Oh. I see."

"Yeah. You can't make me come back."

The man looks over at the clock on the wall. "Eleven hours."

"What?"

"That's how much more time is left on your exile. We'll see how you react then."

The man vanishes. A gentle breeze blows through the open window. Sonic closes it with a final slam.

The next day, Sonic throws a party.

It's not a very big party, by his standards. Just him, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy. It's more of a casual, friendly meeting. But he sets out a folding table with some snacks, and puts on some music.

While they set up, Tails notices a persistent look of guilt on his brother's face. He's gotten good at reading Sonic's emotions, and right now he's in turmoil. He guesses it has something to do with last night's strange reassurance, but he can't figure out what's caused this change in attitude.

It hurts to watch him like this.

When Knuckles and Amy arrive, and they get to talking, Sonic perks up a little. He's strangely emotional, but not all that different. But as the time goes by, he seems to become increasingly nervous. For some reason, he keeps checking his watch.

Five seconds before, he yells at them to get ready.

Something changes in the air. Tails blinks, and a heavy fog has settled over the area. Something about it makes him feel dizzy, like the world is blurred.

He blinks again, and the hedgehog from yesterday is standing in the middle of the clearing. Only he's not a hedgehog anymore.

The wings are a rich, deep orange colour, with streaks of a nearly black brown, just like his sharp, wire-like hair. They look insectoid, and paper-thin, although Tails knows better than to trust their weak appearance. They unfold into a massive sheet on the man's back, easily twice the size of his body.

Monarch butterfly, supplies the scientific part of Tails' mind.

"I did warn you, Sonic." The man looks at the tense, battle-ready people surrounding him, as if they were petulant children. "I'll admit, it was a good idea to manipulate them into defending you. It's can't have been easy with your promise in place. But I can't help but wonder exactly what they think of you now."

"Stop," Sonic shouts abruptly. It sounds forced, strangely robotic.

"Ah. I suppose it's only an inconvenience now, isn't it? I release you from your promise."

Sonic audibly gasps, nearly dropping.

"Sonic? What is this?" says Tails, quietly.

"Yes, what is this, Sonic? Would you like to explain yourself?"

"Yeah. I would." Sonic rises, glaring at him with a ferocity none of them have ever seen before.

He leaps at the man with a spindash. His form flickers, and suddenly he's pinning Sonic to the ground, unfazed.

"Hypocritical. I taught you well." He looks up, briefly making eye contact with Tails, and the kitsune shivers at the coldly joyful look in his eyes.

"You see, children, my son hasn't been entirely honest with you."

"W-Wait -"

"He isn't a hedgehog, you see. He's one of us." He looks back at Sonic, struggling against his grasp. "You used the two-sentence trick for your name, didn't you? Yes, I certainly taught you well."

"I'm – Sonic – the Hedgehog!" he gasps.

The man recoils. "What?"

He's thrown back by something, impacting against the wall of the house. Amy's glamour drops in a burst of pink, as she raises her hammer for another swing.

"Ah, you must be the runaway witch. Tell me, how does it feel to have outlived your -"

"Shut UP!" He dodges the blow in another flicker, jumping to his feet a few metres away. "I know people like you. Always preying on everyone's trauma. Well, I'm DONE being manipulated!"

"Very well. No more talk!" He draws a knife, parrying her swing.

Tails snaps out of his shock, running over to help Sonic up. At least, he tries to. Something impacts against his head, knocking him to the ground.

The fae soldiers surrounding them drop their glamours and draw their swords.

"I wouldn't move," says the man, drawing himself up to his full height. "Not if you value the life of that kitsune."

"You -"

"I must say, for a Mobian witch, your glamour was fairly impressive. Certainly better than his." He spins around, slashing with his knife. Behind him, Knuckles appears and drops to one knee, hissing as he clutches the gash in his side. "And he's one of us, though untrained."

"I-I'm not – c-coming with you."

"Oh, not of your own free will. But, you see, if you're incapable of keeping your promise, well, that's hardly your fault, is it?"

Sonic's world goes dark. The Fair Folk vanish.

Chapter Text

Sonic wakes up in his childhood bedroom.

It's exactly how he remembers it. The large four-poster with heavy, nearly solid curtains, the bare stone walls littered with portraits of uncaring ancestors, the stunning view from the window that he knows every inch of.

He's not restrained. He's not even wounded, aside from a faint headache. He's lying in bed like nothing ever happened. Like the last seven years were nothing but a dream.

He jumps up, looking down at himself with irrational panic. It's okay. He's still wearing his normal gloves, and his shoes are sitting by the side of the bed. His tail is still bare, and as a quick pat confirms, his hair, though messed up, still retains its spiked outline.

Sonic sighs in relief, before slapping himself in the face. He has to focus. He can't afford to let cheap tricks throw him off. He can't afford to lose his grip on reality so soon.

He gets up, pulling his shoes on and turning towards the door, and stops dead.

Sonic's wings are a vibrant electric blue, bordered with an almost-black shade of navy. There are four of them in total, two pairs layered on top of each other to form a rough triangle – a complex shape, yet simple by the standards of his species. The edges of the thin chitin sport several still unhealed cracks and tears, the marks of reckless adventuring.

As they hang on the opposite wall, he can just about see a few flecks of dried blood around the stumps.

"I have made an error in judgement."

He spins around. The man is standing in the corner. He looks exactly how Sonic remembers him now. All the glamour is dropped.

But, then again, how would he know?

"My intention was to combine punishment and rehabilitation. Your crime was, after all, born of naivety. My theory was that seven years of living as a Mobian would show you how unworthy they are of us."

"But they're not."

"Yes, you certainly believe that, don't you?" The man narrows his eyes. "I'll admit, at first, I thought you had discovered a way to lie. But if Mobius could teach us that, we would have found out centuries ago."

Sonic's fists tighten. The unsaid words are clear; Mobians can't teach us anything.

"No, the key is belief. We are not incapable of stating any falsehoods – only deliberate ones." Something strange enters his eyes. Pity? "You were able to say those things, because at some point in the last seven years, you began to believe your own trickery. You think you really are Sonic the Hedgehog."

He sighs. "I am truly sorry, Sonic. I allowed this to happen. I failed you."

"That wasn't a failure." Sonic tries to add "In a way, I was always Sonic the Hedgehog," but he can't. That part is still a lie.

"Yes, that's what you would say." The man smiles, and Sonic almost physically recoils at the near-perfect simulation of genuine compassion. It's wrong, somehow, in a fundamental way.

"I apologise for what I am about to do, Sonic. It is for your own good, and it hurts me just as much."

The fact that it isn't a lie suddenly fills him with fear.

"Promise me that you will not leave this world again without my permission."

"No."

"I thought not. How much do you value the lives of your pets, Sonic?"

It takes him a few seconds to understand what he means by that. The realisation hits him like a truck.

He tries to say "You wouldn't," but it's a lie.

"They aren't – they're my family!"

"Highly, then. More highly than your supposed freedom?"

Sonic doesn't know how to answer.

"Sonic, as we speak, my soldiers are holding blades to their throats. You saw that they were incapable of seeing through such highly trained glamours. If I give the order, they will die without even knowing it."

"Wait -"

"I promise you now that, if you make your oath, I will order my soldiers to stand down and return home."

A sensation of biting cold slowly curls around him. It's a feeling he knows well. The sensation of true, pure, utter helplessness.

"Why?" It's uncharacteristically quiet.

"Because I know you won't listen to reason. You've spent so long there that you think everything is a lie. I want you to come back to the family. I want to give you your wings back. But you won't listen unless I force you."

Sonic reaches deep inside himself for some kind of way out.

There's nothing there. He can't think of anything. He can't remember his training. All he can remember is the faces of his family.

"I hate you."

"I know."

"I promise never to go through the gate again."

"Any gate, Sonic. There's no point trying to find loopholes."

"I p-promise never to go through any gate again." He doesn't notice the despair-induced stutter until the sentence is done.

"Thank you, Sonic." The man snaps his fingers, and they blur for a moment. "They are safe. They will live their lives as Mobians now, until the end." A flicker of disapproval crosses his face at that, but he doesn't comment.

"I'll call the healers." He looks up at the wings hanging by the door. "You must be dying to get these back."

Sonic doesn't answer. He just stares at the floor.

"I will see you when the surgery is complete." He unlocks the door, opening it with a heavy creak.

"We can't lie deliberately," says Sonic suddenly. "Just unknowingly."

"Pardon?"

"You're wrong. I know you're wrong. I am Sonic the Hedgehog. That won't ever be a lie."

"We'll see." He glances back at him one more time. "Despite everything, I truly do care for you, son."

"Don't call me that."

The door closes, and Sonic sits down again.

For a few scant minutes, he allows himself to be vulnerable.

Close up, it becomes clear that it isn't a quill.

The single blue hair is more like a thick wire. It bends slowly with force and keeps whatever shape it's forced into. It also seems nearly impossible to snap. Clumped together, it makes sense that a few thousand of them could work as a weapon. Or, indeed, be mistaken for a hedgehog's quills.

When the healers move in, Amy places it back on the table. She pulls a cloth over the scrying mirror, and puts her head in her hands. She can't see the other two, but she imagines that they must be thinking similar thoughts.

Everything makes sense now.

Why he never talked about his past – didn't even seem to have one. Why he was so powerful, without any explanation. Why he never lied, not even once, and despised the idea of breaking promises. Why he would run off after every fight, and return unharmed but still looking pained.

Why he hated salt, avoided iron, looked at standing stones and clumps of mushrooms with suspicion, always introduced himself in that awkward way, was so fascinated with everything -

It seems impossible now that they didn't see.

"So. How do we break that promise?"

A crow soars over the roof of the fort. It flaps behind a statue, out of sight.

A wren flies down into the garden. It lands on a thick bush, and nestles quickly in to it.

A shrew skitters out from the grass. It slips under the gap in the massive door.

A lizard climbs quickly up the wall of the main hall. It sequesters itself in a crack, and begins to watch.

Witches fly on broomsticks because they are practical.

True, there are safer things, but they can be unwieldy to fly in and hard to store. A broomstick is light and fairly small, and can easily be carried around and hidden. They have an aerodynamic shape, and riding them is fairly intuitive. They are the motorbike of magical air travel, and their classic design is hard to improve on.

Of course, that doesn't mean it's impossible. For one thing, Amy feels that the inconvenience of fighting with a broom is a major flaw.

Her hammer hovers at a good vantage point over the fort. The proximity makes her nervous. The glamour should hold, though, so long as no one looks too closely at this patch of sky.

In one hand, she clutches her scrying mirror. In the other, a tuft of orange fur.

She watches the mirror intently. Knuckles, seated somewhat less comfortably behind her, looks over her shoulder at the image, occasionally glancing away to scribble something down.

They're not stupid. They know that they don't stand a chance. These people fight not with power, but with trickery – the paper to their rock.

The scissors, in this case, are knowledge and preparation.

A mouse reaches a heavy wooden door, and slips under it.

"That's the room. Did you get all that?"

"Yes." He shows her the crude map. There's a clearly marked route.

"Okay. When the sun goes down, we move." The hammer begins to descend into the forest.

It's even more painful this time.

Last time was the most pain he had ever experienced. He still vividly remembers the terror of waking up in the clinic, feeling half-dead, and realising he couldn't move his wings.

But at least he had passed out.

He's stopped worrying about his family. The creeping despair has given way to all-consuming agony. Right now, he can't worry about them.

All he can focus on is not crying.

He doesn't pass out until the last stitch is done. If he were capable of feeling anything complex, he'd feel annoyed at that.

He wakes up in his bedroom again. He's not worried about it being a dream anymore.

But it's still disturbing to wake up looking exactly like he did seven years ago.

A small swallowtail butterfly sits on his windowsill, and watches as he breaks down.

Their disguises, to them, look perfect. But they know better than to trust glamour completely.

They wait for cover of night, when less people will be wandering the halls, and sneak as much as they can. There are a few close calls, but their hunch is right; two slightly odd looking Fair Folk are much less conspicuous than two shimmers in the air.

People see what they expect to see, after all. They're both intimately aware of that.

When they reach the room, Amy stops Knuckles, and asks him to keep watch.

When she opens the door carefully, she doesn't quite understand what she sees. There's a vague lump of blue streaked with black on the bed, shimmering oddly in the growing moonlight. She doesn't realise what it is until Sonic shifts to look at her.

It becomes clear to her, then, that she had been looking at a pair of butterfly wings wrapped around a person.

"Sonic?"

He's nearly unrecognisable. The last vestiges of his disguise are gone, and the cold, tired, broken look in his eyes is one she never thought she would see.

"What do you want now?" The words are devoid of any distinct tone.

She doesn't answer for a moment. "What did they do to you?" she says at last, pointlessly.

He looks up more, raising his hands to push his wings out of the way, and squints. "Amy?"

She drops her disguise, and smiles as kindly as she can. "Hi, Sonic. Sorry we're late."

"We? Did you all..."

"Knuckles is outside. Tails..." She glances for a moment at the window. "He'll be showing up later, apparently. He said that he's got something important to do."

"Important -" Sonic's eyes widen. "Are you trying to rescue me?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course we're trying to rescue you!"

He shakes his head. "No," he says, quietly.

"What?"

"There's – there's just no point, Ames. These aren't people you can just fight. They're – I never understood them, and they raised me."

He smiles weakly. It doesn't come anywhere near his eyes. "I appreciate that you tried. Really. I love you guys more than anything. But you have no idea what'll happen to you if you don't go."

There is silence for a long time.

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I can't lie. You know that, right?"

"I know, but you can twist the truth. Hyperbole and omission are a fae's greatest weapons." The way she says it makes it clear that she's quoting. "I was raised here too, remember?"

"That's -" He stops.

"I think I know what you're talking about. This household – I heard a lot of stories. And judging by what they did to you, I think they're probably true. But don't make it out to be some incomprehensible thing. You only think it's hopeless because they spent your childhood telling you it is, right?"

Sonic's silence speaks volumes.

"Right. But if you didn't have any hope, you wouldn't have left yourself a loophole."

He looks up suddenly. "A loophole?"

She grins. "I was scrying you when you made that promise. 'Never go through any gate again', right? So, in other words, you can go wherever you like in this world, and if you leave, you're not going to be able to come back of your own free will. Face it, Sonic. You're getting out of here."

"I still can't move my wings," he says. The tone shifts upwards ever so slightly.

"You're Sonic the Hedgehog. Who needs wings?"

The butterfly watches as Amy reasserts her moth-winged disguise. Sonic's magic is still busy reattaching his severed nerves and muscles, and he's too weak for glamour. With clear effort, Amy takes his hand and pulls a rough invisibility spell over him. Knuckles greets them with an admonishment for taking so long, and a ghost of Sonic's usual attitude returns.

As they leave, the butterfly remains on the windowsill for a moment longer, before following.

They almost make it.

The man appears in front of them. There's no warning, no sign.

"I would say that I thought you would last longer. But it would be a lie."

Swallowing his fear, Sonic steps up to him. "Get out of my way."

"Did you think I didn't know what you were planning? My soldiers were watching you the entire time – and by extension, me. That was quite the touching scene, but it's time for this little game to come to an end."

"Full of cliches today, aren't ya? Get out of my way."

"This is the end." He addresses the two standing behind Sonic. "I offered you safety, and you threw it away. You -"

Sonic grabs them and bolts.

Just before he does so, the butterfly flutters down onto his shoulder. He doesn't notice.

The gate is a ring of ancient standing stones. Sonic was never sure who built it.

He's vaguely aware of Knuckles and Amy shouting behind him, fighting someone. But he's too busy dodging to look.

The man is fast, and has the advantage of flight. Sonic's own wings weigh him down – he still can't move them, he's still not used to having them back.

But Sonic hasn't been idle this past seven years. He's gotten stronger. Faster. The Fair Folk don't change.

He rolls under a swipe, laughing with adrenaline. "Is that as fast as you can go?"

The next moment, he's sent flying.

"Where exactly do you think your speed comes from?"

He scrambles to his feet quickly, but stops dead. He's metres away from the stones.

Apparently, that's too close. He can't move. When he tries to step towards them, his body doesn't respond.

"I'm starting to hate promises."

"As I was saying, Sonic, the game is over."

Sonic turns towards him. He's hovering above him authoritatively, blade held at his side.

"You may have tried to fool me with that promise, but you won't get the chance to avert it. It still binds you. You cannot escape it."

The butterfly on Sonic's shoulder flaps its wings, and folds outwards.

Tails' foot slams into the side of his head with enough force to draw blood instantly. He falls over, stunned, and the hard ground knocks him out.

"But if he can't keep his promise," Tails says, panting, "then that's not his fault, right?"

Sonic wakes up slowly, and in bits.

As his vision comes into focus, he sees a sky just beginning to lighten, and hears voices next to him.

"Are you two okay?" For all the concern in Tails' voice, it's music to his ears.

"We're fine." He's almost surprised at how happy he is to hear Knuckles' gruff tone.

"This place still looks the same..." Amy sounds genuinely scared, and that cuts in to his good mood. "I don't think the time dilation affected us."

"C-course not, Ames," he says weakly. "O-only works if you're alone."

"SONIC!" As he tries to sit up, something orange and fluffy knocks him down again.

"H-hey, bro. N-nice kick."

"Sorry I couldn't warn you," Tails mumbles, hugging him as tightly as he can, being careful to avoid the fresh scars on his back. "I didn't know if it would work without surprising you."

"It's fine, buddy." He's avoiding the scars. Somehow, that brings Sonic back to the present.

"Tails?" he says, quietly. "I-I'm really sorry."

"What, about not telling us?" He smiles up at him. The innocence in his gaze is heart-wrenching. "It's okay. You didn't have a choice, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but..." He trails off for a moment, hugging Tails back. "I still feel bad about it. And anyway there's... something else."

"What?"

"I – I could never tell you, but I did something really bad to you, kiddo."

"You stole my name, didn't you?"

Sonic looks down in surprise. "Wait, you know?"

"I guessed. After what that guy said, it wasn't hard to figure out." Tails pauses. "He was your dad, right?"

"Not any more."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Tails, look, I wouldn't have taken your name if it hadn't -"

"It was that time on Westside Island, right? A few days after we met? When those people were chasing us? I never really thought about it, but it didn't make any sense."

"They wouldn't have stopped. I had to make them forget about you."

Tails is quiet for a long time. "Was it a good name?"

"... Not really. Actually, it was kind of a terrible name."

"Terrible how?"

"Really bad pun."

"By your standards?" He laughs. "You can keep it. It's probably more trouble than it's worth."

Sonic laughs back. As his family gathers around him, he finds that he can't stop.

It's a perfectly ordinary day for Doctor Ivo Robotnik.

Attacking the city with an army of robots, unveiling his latest airship, cursing that blue hedgehog and his little magic friends...

Come to think of it, where is that hedgehog? He was normally the first to arrive, but today he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Nice ship, Eggy. Modern. Stylish."

He spins around. Sonic's standing behind him casually. How did that damned hedgehog get here without him noticing?

"Why, thank you, Sonic. I'm glad you'll enjoy your doom!"

He presses a button on his hovercraft, and his latest, state-of-the-art battle mech assembles around him.

Sonic laughs, as usual. And then, he vanishes.

The doctor blinks. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, man, Egghead..." For some reason, Sonic's standing on top of the mech now, just behind him. And there's something wrong with his silhouette. It seems to be flickering.

He blinks again, and regrets it. As he stares up at the massive blue butterfly wings, he thinks a very bad word.

"You have no idea how good a mood I'm in right now."