Chapter Text
“No one could’ve survived that crash,” Commander Walters insisted, pathetically unaware that referring to Dr. Ivo Robotnik as just one man was naivete at best, and, at worst, the first mistake on the path to his ultimate demise. Agent Stone hoped it would be the latter, he would love to see that man crushed like the wings of a little red biplane in the jaws of a giant metal mustache.
That would have to wait, however, because Stone had a job to do, and that job was to be the number two to Dr. Robotnik’s one currently unconscious body stored in a military jeep. Indeed, the Doctor was never just one man, he had his machines, he had the infinity of his intellect, and, most of all, he had Agent Stone.
The agent pulled his mask up and turned on his heel. Concealed by the handle of his stolen rifle, he sent out a command on his control glove for the badniks to await his and the doctor’s arrival at a secure location. The Mean Bean was compromised, he couldn’t go there, but that didn’t mean the coffee shop couldn’t come to him.
In the chaos, G.U.N. would doubtlessly miss the shop sprouting wheels and driving off. The fools didn’t even notice Stone driving off their unsecured (really? How incompetent could they get) site with the tightly bundled and concealed body of Dr. Robotnik in the back.
The Doctor was, of course, alive. Because of course he was, he was incredible, it would take a lot more than some intergalactic rodents and a long fall to do him in. But, he was, and Stone really didn’t want to think about it, grievously injured.
It was a reality he had to reconcile with as he sat on the stoop of his shop-turned-truck hours later. It was dusk, and he was doing his best to muffle his sniffles among the annoyingly quiet silence of the backwoods of Montana. It had been a long day, starting off so high only to end so low. He didn’t want to wallow, but his head hurt and his body hurt and his heart hurt.
He'd failed the doctor, and now he was blowing his nose into the scratchy shirt of the G.U.N. agent he’d knocked out to steal the disguise. How had he not thought of tissues for the shop-truck? Yet another oversight, which of course only made him cry more. He felt like he was allowed a good cry, all things considered, just not for too long; there was work to be done.
With a few more near-silent sobs, Stone sucked in a breath and stilled the feelings within himself. A flick of his wrist sent the Mean Bean and the badniks into action. What had been a coffee shop and then a truck was soon a ship, lifting off the ground with a low rumble as Stone strode inside. The badniks got into formation around it and began projecting camouflage onto its smooth hull, rendering it effectively invisible as it rose above the tree-tops, barely disturbing them, and into the night sky.
Within, Dr. Ivo Robotnik was spread out on what had once been a counter and was now a medical table. There was an IV in his arm and oxygen being fed into his lungs, as well as countless monitors, painkillers, and anything else the Doctor needed to heal in the time to come. It would be a long road, one that would kill anyone else. But Dr. Ivo Robotnik was so much more than any one person, and, most importantly, he wasn’t alone.
The first month was the most difficult. Agent Stone had to make do with the supplies present in the Mean Bean. It was enough to repair the Doctor and get him on the way to recovery, but only just. There wasn’t much in the way of food, or a means to clean his fine black suits, or entertainment. They needed to keep a low profile until G.U.N. forgot about them a little bit. That meant no shopping trips, no dry cleaner, and no internet.
Stone spent a while just watching the Doctor at first. Scanning his face for any sign that he might wake up with some insult on his mustachio-d lips. It was foolish, considering Stone himself knew the doses of medication being used to keep the Doctor very much unconscious. Still, he couldn’t help but hope for a miracle, or help roleplaying out said miracle with one of the badniks with a mustache drawn on it.
Whatever, no one could judge him. Nor should they with everything he’d been through. He’d like to see anyone else lose the most important person in their life and not seek a little solace in pretending they were still around. It was only human, as detestable a thing it was to be human.
Besides, the Doctor was coming back, and that was what counted. Stone needed to be ready when he did, and so he found a more productive way to occupy his mind and his time. The Doctor wasn’t the only one with a knack for engineering, and Agent Stone had an idea for something that would make the Doctor’s return all the more wonderful.
Once G.U.N. seemed to have given up the hunt, Stone was free to move them more quickly toward a new base of operations. And also get some real supplies for the trip, including medicine, food, and a few parts to build a clothes washer so Stone could look presentable when the Doctor awoke. He liked to look nice, at least half as sleek as one of the badniks, it was a matter of pride. And, also, a not-so-small matter of wanting the Doctor to look at him with some of the affection he showed for the badniks.
But that was beside the point. The second month went much easier, the Doctor’s health improved by the day. His wounds healed shut and his bones set. Stone worked very hard to not think about how close they had both come to dying horrible, explosive deaths. Thankfully, he had awoken in time to activate the Brain Bunker, from page 23 of the manual, shielding Dr. Robotnik from the worst of the blasts. It did not, however, come with padding to prevent the blunt force trauma of falling off a giant robot. At least, not for Dr. Robotnik, Stone was far luckier in that his room still had boosters to slow his fall and prevent further injury. The Doctor really did think of everything, Stone only hoped he was smart enough to bring the man back from the brink.
By the start of month three, it was looking like the Doctor might wake up any day. He was very nearly healthy, with more than a few robotic replacements to the joints Stone couldn’t salvage. The agent figured he would probably be more pleased about those than not. The Doctor’s vitals were strong and they were almost to the secure location Stone had picked for the construction of a new, secluded base.
Plus, the little side-project he’d been working on was done. He really thought the Doctor would like it. Love it, even, though that might have been a stretch.
That was, of course, when it all went to hell.
It was Stone’s fault, really, and of course it was. In his sentimentality he’d made a far too suspicious purchase at a store. It must’ve pinged G.U.N.’s software because no sooner had he returned to the Mean Bean with a bag of high-end mushrooms than the screens and speakers began to blare with alarms. They warned of incoming G.U.N. personnel, armed to the teeth and hungry for any trace of Dr. Robotnik.
Well, they couldn’t have him, not one silky hair from his impeccable mustache. It was Stone’s error that had led to this disaster, arguably it was all his errors that had led to here. His shortcomings dragged the Doctor down again and again. But not this time, he had a plan.
With a few flourishes of his control gloves, the Mean Bean switched course and a second, smaller ship prepared to launch off of it. It was just large enough for him and removed none of the essential technologies from the rest of the shop-ship. A few, carefully selected badniks hummed nearby as Stone hesitated on the threshold.
This was not the time, the mission was in danger, the Doctor was in danger. Nonetheless, Stone couldn’t help but pause and look back at the still-unconscious genius. He would’ve really loved to have been there when he woke up, to see his eyes clear and alive, to hear his voice. But, more important than that, was the fact that the Doctor would wake up. Nothing else mattered.
With a deep breath, Stone muttered under his breath.
“I love you, Doctor.” And with that he stepped aboard the secondary vessel and began to pull away. The Mean Bean sealed behind him and turned invisible yet again, heading off to its safe destination. Stone, for his part, clicked a button and stood stock still as the holographic illusion of Dr. Robotnik came to life around him. To an untrained eye, he looked indistinguishable from the Doctor, and untrained eyes were the only ones bouncing around in G.U.N.’s ranks.
Stone stretched and tested the voice modulator as he sped off to meet his enemies. By the time they realized the trick, the real Dr. Robotnik would be long gone, secure in the expertly-programmed hands of his own machines. All Stone had to do was survive, and that much, he thought as he hit shuffle on his battle playlist, that much he was good at.