Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sonic's mind is blurry and blessedly empty for what feels like eternity. It is a foreign sensation, yet so familiar in the most uncanny way. Like a faraway dream just within reach but dancing away just when he catches it, slipping past his fingers like sand, not even Sonic's super speed can help him - not for matters of the mind. 

It is a nice change of pace. Sonic has always enjoyed a good nap. He would go as far as to say he is the president of napping. Nothing beats a good rest on a sunny afternoon after a filling snack. Preferably chilli dogs, but Sonic is open-minded about street food. Sundaes are his to go to on hot summer days when even he does not feel like running.

Sonic has always been the guy to go with the flow, so much so that he often misses the finer details. He only notices those little social cues that are more obvious to others when they are impossible to look past. But even he feels something is off about this serenity clouding his thoughts. His head is filled with cotton, and his limbs with lead. His body is pressed into something soft yet frayed. Like a beloved blanket that has been kneaded into too many times as the stitches come apart. 

Sonic is Iain on his side, into a position he recognises. Sleeping on his back has never been an option. He sleeps reclined all the time in a field or on a tree. But he would destroy his and Tails' furniture if he slept on his back. Once upon a time, one shredded blanket meant a cold winter, shivering and getting dangerously sick. They can get all the soft bedding in the world now. But the experience is deeply welded into his subconsciousness. Sonic may forget the bad days, but like scars, his body never will. They creep in the darkest moments, dragging him right back into the past when every day was a battle for survival. 

That is why when Sonic feels something wrapped around his arm - he does not immediately raise his spines as his instincts tell him to. But he does tense, his nerves firing with electricity. Everything in his body screams to get up - run and never look back. An odd reaction, to say the least. But not one unwholly recognisable. 

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Sonic pushes back the old memories associated with it. He does not want to remember those days. Instead, he focuses on the now, hoping to find something familiar in his hazy mind. Sonic does not know why his recent memories will not come when he calls for them. He chalks it up to panic as he is not a stranger to the sensation. 

Whatever is wrapped around his forearm is soft and feels like fur. Dry and slightly matted fur, but fur nonetheless. Sonic feels the grain and denseness of it and smiles when he realises who it belongs to. After all, there is only one fox he knows and that he allows to cuddle with him. He would never deny his little buddy such a simple comfort, even when he sweating bullets because of their insulated fur.

It is Tails - his sibling who he loves more than anyone in the world. The little kit he found bullied and bruised and held no light or love in their dull blue eyes. He saw a much younger version of himself, unloved and uncared for, reflected in those eyes. His mind screamed not to do it - for Sonic valued his freedom above everything else - he still adopted Tails. Even if he refused to acknowledge it until he had no choice but to admit it, that clever fox became so near and dear to Sonic that the thought of something happening to Tails made him sick.

Their fur is rougher and prickler than the juvenile fox fur Sonic is accustomed to. But it is Tails. Sonic recognises the smell of motor oil and metal dusting anywhere. It fills his mouth and nose with electrical aftershocks. He holds back the gentle scolding lying on his tongue. For as often Sonic reminds Tails to wash up - especially after welding projects - Sonic wants a second to appreciate the quiet moment. It feels like so long ago that he could just hold Tails like this. To just exist without Eggman interfering with the peace or their friends pulling towards places and new experiences. He loves them, even if he has trouble admitting it without any stressful factors. But now and again, he misses the old days when it was just the two of them.

Sonic smiles, relaxing against the comforting presence of family. He pushes down the urge to reach over and tuck Tails under his chin, knowing he will fall asleep if he does that. Usually, Sonic is not fond of prolonged physical contact, unlike Tails, who adores it - coming from the right person. But Tails has always been the exception in his life. Sonic would scoop his little buddy into swinging embraces, spinning around until both feet left the ground. Carry them across valleys whenever Tails was too tired to go on and even brave deep and dark waters because Tails wanted to see what was on the other end. If the touch comes from Tails, Sonic can handle it. However, he still would like Tails to ask for permission beforehand.

Sonic is the one who taught Tails to groom themself so they do not have a permanent bedhead, and he taught them to cook after the toddler showed interest in the portable burner long before they settled in Green Hill. Now Sonic knows all too well that Tails was more interested in the things they could create than cooking. But it was an excellent base to start with and teach the fox about lab safety. And it allowed Sonic to breathe a little easier, knowing if they ever got separated, Tails knew the basics of survival. He will never regret taking Tails in, as irresponsible as the decision seems now that he is older. He was not the perfect caregiver, not in a long shot. 

Everything seemed more straightforward back then. Yet, Sonic looks at the past with rose-tinted glasses. He wishes for one moment, they were back on the road with nothing to their name but a few heroic deeds and a rattly backpack - braving the wild and seeing where the wind would take them. When Tails was not self-conscious enough to cuddle with their older brother, they happily let Sonic protect them from the mean nightmares keeping the poor kit awake.

But -Sonic sighs. Going back into the past is not possible. Sonic likes where they have settled down, the friends they have made, and their current adventures. It could be better, and if Sonic could change their everyday lives, he would. For starters, Eggman appearing less in their daily lives would be nice. But it is what it is. Sonic would never trade his world for anything else. He likes it the way it is - flaws and all. 

Sonic scrunches his nose. He can feel a sense of wrongness prodding at his mind, ever so steadily like a metronome, maddening once he notices its presence. 

Tails does not sleep in the same room with him - much less still cuddling with him at bedtime. The young genius has gotten to that age where he thinks cuddles and hugs for longer than five seconds are for little kids—emotionally distancing themself for a sense of privacy. Sonic knows logically that is what it is. Those parenting books and forums had warned him of this. Kids grow up - that is just reality. Of course, Sonic is happy his little buddy is growing up to be such a capable and fantastic person who is as kind as they are brilliant. However, it is only natural he would miss what je took for granted. 

That is the crux of the problem. The person holding him cannot Tails. 

Maybe Tails got scared and crawled into bed with me? Sonic tries to reason, willing the beating of his erratic heart to calm down. Tails is deathly afraid of thunderstorms, and despite how beautifully pleasant Green Hill's weather can be, storms hit the plains pretty hard. It is not as bad as Mystic Jungle, but still. Tails may insist they are too old to fear simple chemical reactions. However, no logical explanation can stop the fox from jumping at the first clap of thunder. It is a sound explanation, and Sonic settles down, falling back into the hazy unawareness of sleep. 

Or so Sonic would like. The feeling of something cold slithering along his back wakes him right up. Sonic's eyes crack open with the speed of sound, whizzing around in panic.

The fox - not Tails - Sonic reminds himself, stuck between sympathy and annoyance, that someone is using his fondness for his baby sibling to lull him into a false sense of security - shuffles closer. Their touch feels like pins and needles, an entirely imagined reaction Sonic knows. Still, the haphephobia settles in, sending Sonic's every sense into hyperdrive.

They are about the same size as Tails, perhaps taller. It is hard to tell in the dark. Sonic has never been bothered by his hedgehog night blindness. But now Sonic wishes he had the special nictitating membrane Mr Ultimate Lifeform once said he possessed. Not that Sonic was paying attention beyond 'my trigger-happy rival has cool glowing eyes'. He would do everything right now to remember Shadow's tangent about the workings of the eyes. 

Curse you, short attention span! Sonic swears internally, trying to focus past the pain throbbing in the back of his head. 

The cold feeling interrupts Sonic's thoughts, returning him to the issue. It is familiar, somehow. Sonic is no stranger to machinery, with an evil scientist as his arch-nemesis and a master gadgeteer as a best friend. But it does not feel like Eggman's tech tightening around his waist, drawing him closer to the mystery person. It is neither Tails' helpful gadgets, their sharp points pressing dangerously close to Sonic's vulnerable spine. There are multiple limb-like appendages, with sheathes like bamboo stalks rubbing against his spines in all the wrong ways. Alien in their delicateness, like a gentle spider patting a beloved pet. Sans all the hair, New World Spiders harbour. Sonic shudders. He really hopes it is not a robotic spider. 

Sonic tenses, quills rising reflexively. But the robotic limbs do not react, gently nestling against his back. The fox in front of him does not suffer from getting impaled, sighing as they take place in Sonic's arms as if they belong there. They tuck in their head and Sonic's chin, scarily well-practised for someone who should not be familiar with embracing a spined mobian. Sonic swallows dryly, disliking the suffocating situation. He can see nothing in front of him. But he can feel the uncomfortable hot breath of the unwanted cuddler on his chest, too close to two sensitive scars.

Sonic bites his teeth. Fox or not, his touch limit has far since been exceeded. He needs personal space ASAP! Sonic wiggles his arm to push off the stranger. Sonic may have shaped a talkative, fun-loving persona for himself compared to his old mute self, who shied away from everything that was not adventure. But he draws the line at being used like a glorified teddy bear.

But Sonic cannot move. His legs refuse to obey him, and his arms shake, straining to move from where they are trapped against his sides. No doubt by the fox's embrace. It is not particularly tight, but Sonic fights to find the strength to move them! His head pounds, hard and fast, as the panic stakes its claim. It solidifies, drilling into the back of his head with a ferocity he has never known. The pain is mind-numbing, and he coughs, catching the shout bursting from his lungs. He does not remember having an injury like that. He certainly would have woken up from the pain if it happened in his sleep.

What happened?  Sonic wonders, knowing he did not just fall asleep in his bed in Green Hill. He is in an unknown location, held in a stranger's embrace. Nothing feels right. It's as if the fabric of reality has been rendered into ribbons, and it's running on its last fumes. A ticking time bomb with an ever-changing timer as the final notes of a discordant song.

How oddly poetic. It's not really my jam, though. Sonic muses. However, he supposes being thrust into an existential crisis does that to people. I should join Amy's book club when I get out of here. They would appreciate the purple prose.

Sonic tries to remember what happened again before waking up but finds nothing. It is a futile task, as reflected by his struggle. It is alarming, and if Sonic were not already panicking, he would be now. 

He only remembers Green Hill Zone, bathed in twilight and an explosion in the distance. A sharp pain made from a gloved fist, the sound of rings clattering against the grass and the voice of a rival with whom he needs to talk to. Ambushing people and then socking them in the head is not friendly rival behaviour. Or so Sonic would if he was not secretly a teensy bit nervous around Shadow. It is worse when Shadow is not fighting him. Then it gets awkward quickly because, as much as Sonic boasts, he is good with social situations - neither of them is. 

Sonic stills. He probably should not be thinking of Shadow right now. That is just asking for the ornery hedgehog to appear out of the blue. He already has enough of a headache without dealing with him - literally! Yet it would be a nice breath of familiarity - as nonsensical as Shadow can be.

Sonic breaks out of his thoughts by a noise. He can feel it rattling his spine, his fur deep down to his bones. It clicks as soon as he finally musters the strength to move his fingers, pressing against the arms of his unwanted companion. 

The stranger is purring! Of all the things that Sonic could experience in this unpredictable situation. He knows as the stranger is no doubt sleeping - they have the death grip of a sleeper - that purring is not out of the question. But with the knowledge that a fox is holding him - it makes his head spin with theories. Foxes do not just purr - not like cats! They only purr when they feel absolutely safe and loved. Tails did not purr for years, and even then, only because Sonic had to teach them how to do it without shame, forcing himself to purr a little louder than a regular hedgehog usually does. 

It is a clumsy purr, like the starting of a rusty lawnmower - stuttering and breaking apart without a stable rhythm. It makes Sonic twinge, remembering how Tails' purr sounded exactly like that because of disuse. It makes him want to help, to soothe the broken purr with one of his own. But even when he wants to, he cannot bring himself to. He feels unsafe, tittering at the edge of a full-blown panic attack. Purring is the last thing Sonic can do.

But he cannot endure for much longer. His ears press against his head, the sensory overload screeching into his abused senses. It feels like the blaring of an alarm transmitting straight into his eardrums. For a moment, Sonic thinks he imagines it, but as he focuses on the pain, he recognises the sound. A loud army-style alarm clock can raise the dead - but it is an alarm clock nonetheless. The noise vibrates through the room, bouncing off the walls. Richoting all around with no end.

The fox stirs. Sonic slacks a sigh of relief. The sooner the mystery dude awakens, the sooner Sonic can demand them to let go, for he can forgive someone mistaking him for a pillow when unconscious but not when they are awake. They rise, and Sonic looks for those predator eyes that are supposed to shine in the dark. But he finds none. Confused, he stays still, an inherent part of his biology telling him to wait until he knows what is happening. As much as he is an insectivore with a broad diet, ancient hedgehogs were as much prey as predators. And foxes, Sonic does not like to think about it, but Tails' distant ancestors were not vegetarians. 

Their movements are sluggish, and they groan, using a hand to rub at their throat. Their voice is familiar, somehow, though it is not Tails as Sonic has already deduced. It nags at him, scrambling the bemused parts of his brain into even more of a confused mush. They let go, and Sonic whoops in silent relief. Little lights come to life inside the room, an entire armada of machines and gadgets, and dozens of electronics Sonic cannot name or place showing themselves. Even without the pressure his body and mind are under - he would not be able to recognise them.

In his awe, the stranger presses a few buttons on their watch that look similar to one of those heart rate watches for runners. Their face is lit by blue light, an unflattering spotlight that only illuminates a small part of their face. But still, Sonic sees only big eyes and yellow fur. It is far from enough light. The lights come alive, and Sonic blinks, taking everything in. The light is dim, and he welcomes it for once. Any light harsher than this would make him throw up. But it is enough to familiarise himself with his surroundings.

A tight grip around his chest brings Sonic back to the most critical topic. Despite turning on the lights, the stranger went back to sleep, pressing closer into Sonic's neck to block out the light. It is endearing if not for the foul mood Sonic is in. He sighs. But first things first, getting this stranger off of me. Sonic finally looks down as he prepares to put every ounce of effort into dislodging himself from this fox. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakery, Mx Fox, but I don't appreciate being cuddled to death-

He freezes. 

Tails?!  Is what he thinks, too stunned to speak. Because, as he ruled out - it cannot be Tails. And yet, blonde fur meets his eyes and two furry tails. Two large ears and, from what little he can see with their head stuck under his chin - a white muzzle. His mind scrambles to right itself - seeing a million things at once, fracturing and splittering as his vision swims. He sees his little buddy smiling. Then, a wild version of Tails with red painted streaks and a vicious bite. His vision rights itself, drawing greys, saturated browns, and yellows into compact shapes. Showing the person before him rather than the people haunting his memories.

It hits him like a vicious punch of a badnik. Sonic ignores the fractures, relieved yet befuddled. He is glad it is Nine and not some weirdo hugging him in their sleep, but he still does not know what happened. What disorientation does to a man, sheesh. Sonic shakes his head, wincing. Oh, boy. My head hurts. He probably should not have done that. 

Sonic needs to wake Nine up. But, as much as he wants to get up and stretch - and figure out why he feels so sore and in pain - his brain tells him not to wake up the kid because any version of Tails sleeping is the cutest—even a grumpy and pessimistic incarnation of his baby sibling.

No! I've got to stop thinking like an older brother. Think, Sonic, think! Sonic slaps his head and shouts in pain. Chaos, he really needs to stop having habits that hurt him. Sonic perks up. He freed his arm! That is a good outcome. He bobs his head carefully, having learned his lesson after the first two times.

Sonic glances down at Nine, grimacing as he steels himself to wake them up. He opens his mouth, trying to find the right words between soft and authoritative to get the fox to let go of him. It would not be a problem if Nine were Tails. Tails is too light of a sleeper to have this happen to them, and second, he is familiar with Tails and knows how to act. With Nine, though, as alike as they are to Tails - they differ so much that Nine seems more like a different person each time Sonic interacts with them. Sonic did not raise Nine. He has yet to learn how to address the little things that feel like second nature with Tails. 

"Um, uh Nh-" But Sonic grows speechless again as Nine suddenly kneads into his chest. The fox actually thinks Sonic is a pillow in their sleep. If this was Tails, Sonic would laugh, scaring the poor inventor awake. Instead, he is overfilled with brotherly fondness at the moody fox acting so soft.

They are kneading! Tails has not done that since they were a toddler! I can't wake them up. Sonic bites down harder on his teeth. No, focus!

Nine's purr grows louder, finding its rhythm and sticking to it with only a few cracks in between. It is adorable.

And the purr! Oh, Nine, you're going to be the death of me, bud—cuteness overload. Sonic sighs. He wishes he could just wake Nine up in the same mischievous way he would if they were Tails. But Nine is not Tails, as they have repeatedly proven Sonic. Mangy was the final nail in the coffin. He cannot act like Nine is Tails as he has no idea how Nine will react to being abruptly awoken. Sonic knows for himself that he is a fitful sleeper. Tails told him many times how jumpy he is when rudely awakened to the point that Tails is at arm's length when the kit tries to wake him up. Nine, with their rough past, might be the same as him. This is not good for Sonic, as he is way too close not to be in the range of an accidental punch.

I'm lucky Nine decided not to sit on my head in their sleep. Now, that would have been a rude awakening. He muses nervously. Tails had cut themself too many times on Sonic's head quills because the kit could not control their instincts when they were younger. The action is heartwarming, but less so is pulling blue spines from a crying toddler's butt because Tails did not understand that they should not sit on a hedgehog's head. It was hard to explain, especially because Sonic did not know why Tails did it. Now that he does, he cannot help but be endearingly amused. Even at that young, Tails had seen Sonic as family.

Sonic taps his finger against the mattress, surveying the room as he thinks of the best way to approach this situation. He cannot feel the texture with his gloves. But he can tell that it is lumpy and riddled with holes. So is the pillow under his head. He dares not to think if the holes are from his quills or something else. But the tiny bit of leftover annoyance melts away at the kind gesture. No wonder Nine is using him as a pillow when the fox gave him probably the only cushion they own. 

Poor fella. Sonic wishes he could do more, but he is getting anxious, lying down with his limbs stationary. He needs to stretch. Sorry, Nine, as much as I care for your beauty sleep, which you seriously need. No offence, bud, but you look disastrous - I need to move!  Sonic thinks but does not say, trapped within an old habit. Getting out of it is like swimming through molasses. Syllables feel foreign on his tongue, words a clumsy dance he has not practised in what feels like years. An unthinkable thing to imagine with how many people have told Sonic, including one cranky rival, that he talks too much. 

Jokes on them because I will never stop. Sonic smacks his dry lips, and finally, after what feels like hours but is probably only five minutes, he can get a sound out that sounds like actual English. 

"Hey, Nine, buddy. Please wake up. I need to get up. I will die if I do not… uh, right! Stretch! That's not a difficult word to say, and yet. Language is hard!" Sonic pinches his nose. Bleh! As much as he sang his own praises about his fantastic commentary, this is one of those few days talking feels a chore. But Nine is not as light as a sleeper Tails is. Their ears twitch, but otherwise, they do not react. Sonic groans, dragging a hand over his eyes. The one time he wishes a version of his genius sibling to sleep in, and it at the most inopportune moment. That is just his luck. 

But Sonic wiggles, raising an eye ridge. Nine's death grip has loosened. It is easier to dislodge them from his person. For more his sake than Nine's, Sonic manoeuvres Nine to lay on his spot, letting the fox keep sleeping. They are unhappy, batting their claws to get him back to sleep. But still, Nine does not awaken. They curl up in the warm spot Sonic left behind, tucking their tails under their legs and their hands over their muzzle. 

It is a cute sight, and Sonic would be cooing over how adorable it is. If only Nine's mechanical limbs did not encircle the genius inventor like a trippy mandala. It reminds him of all too well of his situation. He cannot sit around - he must rescue his friends and get everything back as it was. He has no time to lose.

Sonic creeps out of the room down the weird tarp-like tunnel that connects to Nine's bedroom. Or he thinks it is Nine's bedroom. He would hardly call it that. For one thing, it looks too much like an abandoned military storage unit. One where their equipment has been sitting there for too long. It cannot possibly be healthy. But Sonic is not Nine's brother. He has no right asking Nine to clean up and keep their work and sleep space separate. Knowing how messed up New Yolk is, there probably is not enough space to separate the two, regardless of how unhealthy it is to sleep near machinery. 

Sonic would love to zip out of here to the next destination. But he is still lethargic. Nothing a few stretches won't fix! He thinks optimistically, shaking off the unease bubbling underneath his pelt. It is going to be okay.  He reasons. If only his subconsciousness would get the memo.

The next room is just as dark as the tunnel, and it takes Sonic an embarrassingly long time to fumble around to find a light switch. When he flicks on, he gapes. The room is a stainless kitchen, high-tech retro and seemingly never used, with steel pots and pans hanging off the walls. It looks straight out of one of the culinary shows Tails used to watch when there was nothing else good on cable, and streaming was not a big thing yet. 

It takes him back to when he walked into their then-new house in Green Hill Zone and looked upon the home he built with his friends. With so much space, he and his little buddy could not get claustrophobic again, and perfect for the parties they never ended up throwing, preferring when they party, to go outside or, better yet, to another place. Neither Sonic nor Tails enjoy social interaction that much, unlike what Sonic lets people believe. BBQs are perfect, though, and he does love a good chilli dog straight off a grill. Garden parties are the best of both worlds.

Sonic shakes his head. He is getting distracted. Sonic winces at the headache as he inches forward, sweeping his hand over the counter in awe. No speck of dust stays on his glove. It is miraculous, as if the room is cleaned every day. Sonic reaches behind him, checking the cupboards and drawers. The kitchen seems unused for the most part. But the plates and cups look old. Even with a high-tech dishwasher, getting them looking like they are straight out of the package is impossible. Sonic would know. Tals tinkered a lot with the dishwasher until they found the right solution. They also miss that plastic smell from the packaging. 

Sonic stands back upright, swaying as a dizzy spell overcomes him. His stomach rumbles, and sheepishly, he remembers he barely ate last night. Or whenever his last memory was. Sonic does not want to think about it too deeply. He goes for the fridge, promising to write Nine a note before he leaves to apologise for taking some of their food. His fingers tighten around the handle when he hears a loud crash. 

Sonic's ear swivels towards the hallway whence he came. The sound is familiar. Sonic has heard Tails' experiments go awry more than he can count. But his quills raise in apprehension regardless. The following silence feels foreboding, echoing through this strange cement room. Sonic strains his ear, hearing the sound of rummaging, growing frenzied with each passing second. If Sonic did not know better, he would think Nine is panicking. The footsteps near the kitchen are loud and hurried. A familiar, unfamiliar fox storms into the room, blue eyes darting around frantically. Until they land on Sonic. 

Sonic feels like a deer caught in the headlights. He does not know why. He has never felt threatened with Nine or, Chaos forbid, Tails. But something about Nine's burning stare is unsettling. Sonic cannot describe it. In one word, it is blank, but their whole body language screams a predator animal. As if Sonic is an intruder and Nine reverted back to their ancestor's ways of defending their den. However, if that were the case, they would not easily relax upon seeing him. If Nine were genuinely lost in the sauce, they would have a more challenging time getting out of the wild mindset. 

Nine levels Sonic with a look as if he is the weirdo who freaked out over seemingly nothing. 

"What are you doing?" Nine asks, with little inflexion in their voice. Yet, it holds an authoritative edge. Sonic is unused to hearing. It rubs him the wrong way.

"Making breakfast, little buddy. What else?" Sonic shrugs. He opens the fridge, pulling out random ingredients and hoping they are the right ones. He does not know why he says that. It comes out in reflex as if he has been living together with Nine for years instead of Tails. Sonic expects Nine to glare and remind him that they are not Tails. They always get annoyed when he compares or treats them younger than they are, not without good reason. But Sonic cannot shake the big brother mentality around them. Any incarnation of Tails is his family. 

But Nine sighs, waving their hand nonchalantly. The reaction stuns Sonic. He nearly drops the food. He looks at the bounty in his arms, the meatloaf. He cringes. Who the hell eats meatloaf? He snifs it. Ew! Olives. 

"Of course, breakfast. What else would you be doing?" Nine laughs dryly. They step towards the kitchen table, so retro-chic it reminds Sonic of 50's dinner tables and Nine sits down with a leg folded on top of the other. Their mechanical tails swish languidly behind them. As they are in an ocean and their tails float like tendrils behind them, "Don't let me stop you."

Their words are light, playful even. But their body language is anything but. Rigid and sharp, like a robot. Every move is calculated and shows through the coldness in Nine's gaze. They were waiting for Sonic to do what he said. As if this is some sort of test Sonic must pass.

Sonic swallows dryly, his grin straining on his muzzle. 

"Of course! Just you wait! I know how to make some banger pancakes!" He says, dumping the meatloaf on the counter. He cannot make pancakes with a loaf made of meat. However, Nine does not comment on that, returning a toothy smirk. It does not look friendly. 

"I can't wait."

Sonic chuckles, not willing to admit how freaked out he is. He chalks it to Nine, not having been around people enough to know what a friendly smile looks like. Sonic would be a fool not to remember how hard it was for Tails and him to learn to emote so people would understand them better. Smile when happy, frown when sad, those kinds of things. Though Tails still has the habit of laughing hysterically when something horrible happens, Sonic is not much better, becoming apathetic or too jokey when stressed. It is how he copes!

He starts on the pancake batter, shamefully putting the meatlove back and pulling out the correct ones. They are technically not the right ones, aside from the all-purpose flour and eggs. But they will have to do. There is no baking powder, which Sonic suspects Nine does own but does not keep in their kitchen. The milk is in a nondescript jug but it smells like dairy, so Sonic does not ask if it is milk. As for sugar, well, what he finds is not sugar, but it tastes sweet, so he adds it to the mixing bowl regardless.

All throughout mixing, he feels Nine's eyes on him. They never stray, boring holes into his blue quills. Sonic does not look, acting as if this situation is the most normal thing in the world. It isn't. 

What situation did I land in?  Sonic wonders. It feels so surreal. Throughout baking and laying the pancakes on two different platters, he is tempted to ask Nine what happened. If there is anyone who knows, it is the doppelganger of his genius best friend.

In what feels like a shorter time than it is, Sonic places the plates on the table, giving them an impressive spin before sliding one of them over to Nine. They catch it, surprisingly. Sonic expected it to fly off the table, having given it a little too much juice. He does not remember Nine being able to predict his movements so well.

"Et, Viola! Des crêpes à la Sonic! Bon appétit!" Sonic cheerfully announces. Hoping his fake joy covers up that cold alien feeling gnawing on his fingers. He curls his digits into his palm, pressing crescent shapes into his flesh to chase it away.

He sits down without looking at Nine's reaction, bent over the food as he shovels the pancakes into his mouth. He feels like a man starving! Without the toppings and vanilla sugar, the taste and texture of the pancakes are less appetising. Sonic never considered himself a good chef, and clearly, he retained his mediocre touch from the subpar pancakes he baked. They are flat, resembling crepes more than the fluffy pancakes he usually makes. He solely tastes butter in his bites. 

What I would not do for some maple syrup or brown sugar right now. Sonic bemoans internally.  But food is food. He does not like asking if Nine has things to put on pancakes. Something tells him that fun breakfast items are off the menu when one lives in a city like New York.

He looks over as he finishes his last pancake, holding in a disgusting burp Tails would be horrified at. If Nine were Tails, he would not bother holding it in. Siblings disgust each other. That is just regular sibling business. Someone had to embarrass Tails, and who is Sonic to deny them noogies and farty armpits?

But Nine is not Tails. Sonic does not know how many times he needs to remind himself that. But he does not need to now. The sight before him tells him all. Nine is not focusing on him but on their food. They have not touched it, poking at it with a spork attached to their multitool. They seem… displeased. Not disgusted necessarily, but wary. As if Sonic would put poison into the food even though they watched the process every step.

"Something wrong?" Sonic asks. Nine nearly jump to the ceiling, their two real tails frizzing behind them. Their spider legs straighten, and if it were not for their herculean grip on the floor, Nine would have launched towards the ceiling. Instead, they hang from their butt on their limb enhancers' tippy toes.

It is strangely intimidating, Sonic realises. He never considered it as such, even when Nine tried to kill him with their tails. But getting stabbed by one of those looks fatal.

Nine comes down. They grimace.

"No, of course, there isn't. Why would there be something wrong?" They answer whisper-like. So perfectly emotionless, as if they have practised the sentence so many times. Nine probably has practised those words if they had any concerned adults in their life. Sonic knows that is precisely the 'leave me alone, everything is fine' voice. Sonic had the same tone before legally adopting Tails in his preteen years. The Mobian authorities have not made a nuisance of themselves since. Although Sonic dreads the day, he must update his homeschooling permit so Tails can stay home and not be forced to attend public schooling. Truthfully he thinks the socialising would be good for Talis. Although Tails is way too convincing to let them stay home and keep working on their projects, saving the day and teaching themselves at the university level much better than any public school teacher could. If Sonic had to be honest, he would also not want to go to school either if he was forced to by law. Especially after getting his GED at sixteen - all thanks to Tails and Amy helping him study. School from what little he knows about it, is a hellscape for the teen mind. 

"No? I was just wondering if you don't like them. I won't be offended if you don't! They're just pancakes." Sonic laughs to lighten the mood, carefully watching Nine. Tails used to hate letting food go to waste. They both do. But when Sonic and Tails finally owned a house, they had to learn that sometimes, the food they made was inedible, and they needed to throw it out. But Tails will always feel guilty, and Sonic had to learn to formulate his words to make it clear that it is okay not to like a particular taste or texture. Sonic would hate it if Nine thought they had to eat the pancakes if they could not stand it.

Nine raises a brow, glancing back at the pancakes. There are definitely better examples of what pancakes are supposed to look like. But there is nothing Sonic can do about that now.

"Hmm, just pancakes." Nine murmurs. It is impossible to read the fox. Sonic feels helpless as he tries to find something familiar in their gaze, growing angsty when the silence drones on. 

"Here, I'll eat them if you won't. Can't let food go to waste, ya know?" Sonic blurts out, not able to take the quietness. He would love to sit in a meadow with Tails as they solder a project. But this silence is grating. He does not know why, but it makes every nerve in his body feel like it's on fire.

Sonic reaches for the plate, slowly stretching his arm over the table to ensure he does not come over as threatening. One learns with foxes that they become aggressive even if they are not hungry when you take food away from them too suddenly. Add a traumatised fox who went malnourished as a young kit, and you have a very bitey Mobian. 

"On second thought. I'll eat them." Nine's half-lidded eyes shoot open, and one of their robotic tails snatches the plate from the table, holding it high above their head. They do not hiss, but the angry look tells Sonic it is a close call. Sonic nods, happy even if pancakes are not exactly very nutritious. It is better than nothing, and with Talis' habit of forgetting to eat, this is good enough for Sonic. 

"Atta Nine!" Sonic praises, giving Nine a thumbs up. Nine rolls their eyes, grabbing a tiny piece and putting it in their mouth. They do not react to the taste. Sonic thought since sweet stuff is so rare, there was only a little of it in the cupboard, that Nine would be surprised at the taste. But they just keep chewing, as if eating sand, which Sonic has seen Tails do in the name of 'science'. It looks suspiciously a lot like Tails chewing through a mouthful of mints.

Sonic sits back down with a 'huh'. Nine has a good poker face. They are a mystery wrapped in familiar packaging. It sends a pang of sadness through his heart. He misses Tails. 

Sonic gulps, realising his mistake. Tails does not have any severe allergies, but their skin breaks out in hives if they eat chocolate or hazelnuts. It is nothing life-threatening, just annoying for them. But Nine could be allergic to Sonic's pancakes.

"Wait, you're not allergic to anything in these, right? I forgot to ask, Tai-" Sonic tries to ask. But Nine quickly interrupts him. 

"I'm fine. I would have said something if I had been allergic to anything you put in these 'pancakes'." They nearly growl. If Sonic did not know better, he would say Nine despises hearing Tails's name. But that would not make sense. Sure, Nine is annoyed when he accidentally mistakes them for Tails. But they have never gotten angry at him mentioning Tails. It must be because they think he is underestimating them. Yes, that would explain how they hold their spork in a death grip or the clench in their jaw. 

It sounds like they want to add, you dolt, to the mix but refrained from doing so. Nine sits back down and eats in silence. Their eyes trained stubbornly on their food, drowning the room back into silence. 

Sonic looks at the pancakes and back at Nine, coming up with his own conclusion. Nine is simply cautious, and can he blame them? Nine must have been staring because they were unused to having someone else cook for them. Sonic also did not trust what people put in their food when Tails were alone on the road. Only when he saw them put the food together and someone else eating it first did he eat what they served. Tails was never that apprehensive with him, though. But with others, they were always so vigilant. Too often, they had been tricked into eating trash, and with their mild germaphobia, the thought of eating food prepared by unclean hands makes Tails throw up. Ironically, they used to eat food off the ground as a toddler and even ants and other bugs. Sonic supposes learning about the world and its many harmful diseases and bacteria scared Tails out of the habit.

Now that Sonic has the time to look, he studies Nine's appearance - truly seeing the differences between his sibling and this sombre version of them. Nine's canines are sharper. The black at the tips of their ears are more pronounced, not helping the permanent sullen look the youth sports. Their fur is scruffy, too, though that might just be their lack of personal grooming. Yet, their eyebags have seemingly vanished. Sonic remembers them being so dark he mistook them for makeup the first time they met. He is glad Nine has been getting better sleep. 

If Sonic had to guess - he would say Nine is a little older than Tails - even if Nine acts more mature than a fourteen-year-old. Nonetheless, it cannot be more than a year or two, for Mangy seems younger with sharp baby teeth and lighter cub fur. He would know! He may not be a fox specialist, but he practically raised Tails. If experience landed one a degree, Sonic would be a fox expert.

The silence drones on. Nine is a much slower eater than Tails, who is not as wild as their brother but still shoves food in their maw because they want to leave the dinner table faster to return to their inventions. It forces Sonic's mind to go back to a very important question. What happened? How did he get here, and where is he here? The question burns on the tip of Sonic's tongue. But whenever he opens his mouth to ask, he gets tongue-tied. He does not know why. He has never felt so anxious before, least of all around Tails. Sure, Nine is not Tails. But even a dimensional counterpart should not make his spines stand up.

I'm likely agitated because I'm feeling so lethargic. No sweat! I will ask them later. Sonic decides, scratching his elbow. A nervous habit he can feel Nine narrowing their eyes at. 

We're probably hiding out somewhere and will get on the road sooner or later. He tries to placate himself. Yeah, that makes sense. 

Waiting for Nine to finish their breakfast feels like torture. So when Nine finally does, Sonic puts the plates in the sink for a rinse. It feels like clockwork to him, and with his knack for cleaning his and Tails's house when stressed, he is not surprised the habit still prevails even throughout all that he has gone through. 

"So, Nine, what's on the schedule?" Sonic asks, drying his hands and putting his gloves back on. He turns towards Nine and demonstratively punches the air, ready for some action. His gestures may be enough to convey his message. 

Nine shrugs, their low energy spelling doom in big, bold letters. Sonic ignores it because Nine is probably always this sullen. There is nothing like a dash of Sonic to put the pedal to the metal. 

"Just maintenance. The Grim's development is steady, but a volatile energy source and a leaky pipe could blow everything up. I need to recheck everything before adding new features," Nine waves their hand, unconcerned for the bombshell they drop on Sonic, "You know. The usual."

"Right, the usual." Sonic waits momentarily for Nine to tell him they are joking. But they do not do so. They are dead serious. 

Sonic clears his throat. He supposes he was not being clear enough. 

"Well, I mean. When are we going out there?" 

"Out where?" Nine asks casually as their spidery tails tick against the floor tiling. Their eyes are not even on Sonic, focused on the grain of the table as they stroke their fingers against it - following the path the plastic makes. As if deconstructing how the retro table was created. If Sonic did not know better, he would think Nine was playing with him. But it is Nine, a humourless version of Tails, who would stab him first if he punched their arm in a friendly fashion. 

Heh, Nine kinda reminds me of a Knux a little. But even Knux had a hint of mischief when I first met him. Sonic muses sadly. His heart pangs at the reminder of his dear friends. Who knows what will happen if he does not get to them soon? 

"You know - out there! We can't sit in this place all day! We need some fresh air and stretch our legs. Nine, you don't understand. My legs are already atrophying." Sonic whines, slouching against the counter with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. But Nine just glances at his legs - seriously considering this fact. 

"I doubt it. It takes more time for that to happen." 

Sonic deflates. Leave it to Mx Gloom to not understand a joke. Though Sonic recognises it is not like Nine had the privilege to learn and understand jokes. And even then, it is not Nine's fault that they do not understand Sonic's humour.

Sonic shrugs.

"And much better, to stop those egghead-!" Sonic stops himself from finishing his sentence. Nine is entirely still, looking at him from the corner of their eyes. Their entire attention is on him even if, at first glance, it did not appear that way. It is odd. Every version of Tails Sonic has met had to be doing something, like fidgeting, stimming or usually tinkering with some gadget or new project, even if they are talking or watching TV. Tails remains completely still when they have something on their mind or are furious. 

Nine is not angry. Sonic is sure. He has seen them agitated, and though Sonic admits he has been lacking in the awareness department lately, he cringes as he remembers trying to placate Tails with comic books. Nine is not angry. Sonic did not notice it until now, but Nine's metal tails drum to a measured rhythm. Tick, tick, tick - never straying or fraying the notes. 

Sonic feels apprehensiveness beating down on him, returning when he thought it had finally left. 

"There is more to see to, uh, the Grim?" Sonic tries instead. When he is outside, he can broach the subject more easily. Get Nine motivated to take a test ride in their swanky spaceship and gently nudge them into saving everyone and everything. Baby steps, Sonic, baby steps. Sonic thinks encouragingly. 

Nine mulls over it, turning to face Sonic in the swivel chair. As Sonic thought, their eyes never strained - staying still as their body rotated to look at him thoroughly. It is eerie. Sonic chalks it up to paranoia. Unlike Tails, who felt comfort in burrows, he never liked being in small enclosed spaces. 

I guess that makes me a lousy hedgehog. Sonc jokes internally, feeling a little sad that he cannot joke out loud without Nine's judgemental stare.  I got that runner's anxiety. 

"Sure, there are some emerald structures I'm interested in studying. They could be passive power sources. I can make them active power sources if I study them enough. They would make for some nice lamps if they turn out to be useless." Nine chuckles dryly, "Everything has its uses."

"No, I mean…" Sonic trails off. He sighs. Nine's body language is all locked up. There is no place for Sonic to worm in his charm and get Nine to save the day with him. Maybe he can lead them into it, but a direct approach will not work. 

For a moment, Sonic considers cutting his losses and going up the surface and back to New Yolk alone. Yet he is still tired. It is strange. His body should have completely woken up already, and even on days he is lethargic, he feels the need to run it off. Today must be an off day. This strange universe can wait a day. I will try again tomorrow. Taking it easy will replenish my energy. I just know it. Sonic concludes. 

"Sure, Nine. I be happy to study them together." Sonic says with a gentle smile. This is an excellent opportunity to understand Nine better. He is sure under that cold, sombre exterior of theirs lays a kind and wonderful soul. Nine just needs someone they can trust to open up to. Sonic did that for Tails, which allowed them to make many friends with whom they could be vulnerable. Sonic can do the same thing for Nine. 

Nine raises a brow, suspicious. But they respond before Sonic can retract the offer, hopping off their chair. 

"Terrific! Once I'm done with maintenance, we can leave the bunker and explore the wasteland above us. A trip sounds nice." Nine return Sonic's smile, flashing their teeth. Sonic gives them a thumbs up even if he feels all his spines standing on end. That smile looks uninviting.

"Come on! I have to show you the rest of the bunker. You're gonna love what I did with the place." Nine motions for Sonic to follow them. Their smile slims, turning into something more neutral and, dare Sonic say, eager?  Sonic blinks, rubbing his eyes. But it is still there when he reopens them—a genuine smile. Sonic is amazed. He laughs. 

"What are you doing?" Nine asks, their face morphing into a comical expression of disgust and confusion. Sonic shrugs. 

"It's nothing, buddy. I just had something in my eye," He says, happy to see that a piece of Tails resides in this wonky version of them. Nine might not be Tails, but Sonic saw a glimmer of them in Nine for a moment. They are just as passionate about their work as his sibling is. "You're amazing, you know that?" 

Nine halts at the doorway. They look shocked, their eyes wide as their jaw hits the floor. It is the most surprising Sonic has seen Nine, and the dude is pretty unflappable. They blink, and the moment the words sink in, Nine's face flushes. Nine hides their face behind their hands as their red ears press against their skull - embarrassed. Nine hisses into their gloves as Sonic roars with laughter. They glare at him between the gaps in their fingers. It just makes the hedgehog laugh harder. 

"Whatever," Nine says, turning around and stepping into the darkness. They look back, "Are you coming or not?"

Sonic picks himself up from the ground, not realising he almost busted his gut laughing. He wipes away a tear, nodding.

"Yeah!" 

Aw! That was the baby's first compliment. I wish I had a phone or a camera. Sonic muses. Wait, first compliment? That's actually sad. I will compliment them if it's the last thing I do.  Sonic decides determinedly as he nears Nine. He looks them up and down. Nine might look orthodox, and the robotic tails can be slightly off-putting. But they are a child and, more importantly, someone like Tails. They just need more positive reinforcement, and Nine will blossom into a kindhearted individual. Sonic is sure of it. 

I already raised Tails once. What is taking up the mentor role one more time? Just for a little while. Sonic thinks, his thoughts drifting towards Tails.

Wait for me, bud. I will be back soon.

 He turns to Nine, turning up the brightness of his smile, burying the pain deep down.

"Yeah. Show me the biz, Nine." Sonic snaps his fingers, winking. Nine snorts, the corner of their lip twitching into a smile.

"Not a problem... Sonic." Nine says slowly as if testing Sonic's name. It is not the first time they have said it, but their tone is soft. It is not that different from their monotone voice, but Sonic notices it. He has spent enough time with Nine to finally catch the infliction, as small as it is. 

Sonic's grin widens.

"Lead the way, Doc Ock!" Sonic cheerfully yells, ignoring how his voice bounces off the walls of the dark bunker or the chill running up his spine. Nine opens their mouth to ask what Sonic means but gives up, shaking their head. They walk ahead, rolling their wrist nonchalantly.

"Right this way." Nine may sound disinterested, but the way their tails swish languidly behind them gives Sonic glee, as does the way Nine puffs their chest proudly. That compliment must have affected them more than Sonic thought. He follows right after, feeling better than when he woke up. He is sure that together, they can save everyone.

"Hell yeah. Let's get this show on the road!"

Chapter Text

The bunker is bigger than Sonic anticipated. Nine explained that on the tour, they found this place after they came to the Grim for the first time. It had been unusable then, flooded with gore and sickness. Nine had no trouble rattling off all the details as Sonic looked at them, horrified. It was inhabitable, and from Nine's disgusted face, the people who used it met an untimely demise.

It had taken Nine weeks to clean it out and much longer to set up shop, building impressive machines to do the heavy lifting for them. Though it had taken longer to build upgrades for finer cleaner, Nine made it work. Sonic awed and ohed as Nine showed him the hanger filled with worker bots. They do not have the polish of Dr Eggman or the Choas Council's work. But from what Nine lacks in aesthetics, they make up in practicality.

Still, Nine warned him not to go into rooms that reeked of death. As thorough as Nine is, in their words, it is an enormous place and getting everything clean is statistically impossible. Not that Sonic doubts them. He would rather avoid discovering any spot Nine's tech forgot to clean. Just because he is a hero does not mean he is unaffected by witnessing gore. Sonic would rather stay as far from it as possible if he can help. 

Sonic refrained from asking how long everything took exactly - trusting Nine's vague time assessments. Even without mentioning it, Sonic knew it was a sensitive topic. Only a few hours passed for Sonic in Boscage, but weeks went by for the people in New Yoke. He cannot imagine how Nine felt, thinking Sonic abandoned them. It breaks his heart. 

Still, despite the bunker's impressive size, Sonic does not feel as excited as Nine when they showed him everything. Sonic did his best to listen and give input when necessary, but he often drifted in thought and swayed on his feet. Nine told him to rest and take it easy. Sonic followed their input, knowing how much of a hypocrite he would be if he did not follow his own advice when he had told Tails and his friends so many times to relax and take a chill day.

But a rest day becomes two, three, four; by now, Sonic has lost fingers to count how many days he has been since he woke up in the bunker. His memories fade in and out; he is sure that whatever happened to him affects his brain. However, he has no idea how to bring it up though. Usually, he pushes his problems deep down, hoping they will miraculously vanish. Or one of his friends points it out and forces him to confront it. 

But Nine does not point out how Sonic wobbles on his feet or how tired he is. So, he concludes it must not be that serious. If someone like Nine does not notice how odd he is acting, then it must be just him imagining things. 

Still, the days in the Grim go by slowly. There is nothing to do. Even as Sonic slowly gets better, feeling less sluggish as his energy returns to him, nothing about their routine changes. They wake up, and Sonic fumbles, trying to ask to leave, only to falter so he can accommodate Nine's needs. They go around the bunker repairing stuff. Or rather, Nine performs maintenance as Sonic dies of boredom, and they go back to sleep. Every day in and out. The same tasteless food, stainless floors, and steel walls staring back at him, keeping him away from the beautiful wind and adventure calling his name. 

Sonic is tired of this routine. He is restless. 

"Are you alright, Sonic?" 

Sonic's ear twitches, folding back to hear Nine's voice better. He turns around, with his torso first, before he ultimately faces Nine. Sonic schools his expression before Nine can see his grimace. He feels so ingenuine for smiling. But if he let his true colours show, Nine would get irritated. Sonic is unsure why he feels that way, but his spines raise at the possibility. He needs to keep his cards close to his chest, even if he feels like a liar for doing so. 

But Sonic sighs - it would be better, to be honest. That is what led him to break down Nine's impenetrable walls before. It may work again.

"No, buddy. Now that you mention it, I've been feeling pretty awful." Sonic says gingerly, examining Nine and what they are doing. He expects them to keep working on the robot they have been tinkering with for days. They did say it only needed a few finishing touches. But Nine is staring down at Sonic on top of the bot. Almost menacing with how they block out the fluorescent light of the LED lamps high up in the ceiling. Their spidery tails twirl behind their head, waving ominously like eels in a deep, dark blue sea. It sends a shiver down Sonic's spine.

"Hmm." Nine hums. They hop down from the robot, sliding down its hardened polyester exterior and landing gracefully on the floor. They are no less intimidating, as Nine does not need the height to be threatening with their ferocious glare.

When did Nine become so scary? I'm not intimidated, but I don't appreciate feeling this on edge. Sonic muses, refusing to admit the shot of fear trickling into his veins.

"Say, when are we going to the surface? You've been doing so much maintenance. We have to be getting to the end of the workload." Sonic asks, avoiding eye contact as Nine's intense eyes bore into his. He mindlessly strolls away, anything to keep himself busy, stretching his legs into exaggerated movements, loosening his arms and rolling his shoulders. He feels stiff - even if he is not running, he should be doing pilates or yoga to keep himself nimble. He has a crick in his neck. It is a shame it is impossible to relax in such an environment. Even as Sonic ignores how unnerved he is, he cannot deny how this place feels odd and cramped. 

"I am doing the one doing all the work. And hmm," Nine corrects harshly, yet they calm down quickly, glancing at their project. Nine nods, "I guess I made good progress this week."

It has been only a week? I could have sworn more days than the regular seven have gone by. Is Nine's definition of a week different from mine? Should I even ask, or would that be stupid? Sonic ponders. Nonetheless, the prospect of getting out of here has him giddy - swinging back around with stars in his eyes.

"So, does that mean we go can up there? I've been dying to stretch my legs," Sonic says, stretching his aforementioned legs in the classic runner's pose, speeding past the hanger's pillars and even skipping to show how excited he is. It is everything he has been waiting for since he woke up in this dreary place. 

"You can stretch your legs here. There is enough space." 'As you just did' goes unsaid as Nine looks pointedly at Sonic's shoes. The greyish hexagonal design is free of blemishes or filth, unlike the other powered-up versions of his sneaker that got dirty the first five minutes of getting to a new paradox world. 

"Yeah, sure." Sonic rolls his eyes, crossing his arms grumpily. 

The bunker is big; Sonic has run around this place enough times to cement this fact. But it is a cluttered space. For someone as meticulous as Nine, they do not seem to enjoy cleaning up much. Or that is how they concentrate, having everything where it belongs even if it looks like the opposite of organised. But that does not help Sonic. The bots only clean up dust and stains. They do not manage and store lying objects. And when Sonic tries to clean up after Nine so as not to feel useless - Nine snaps at him. 

Tails at least let him clean up the junk from their projects. At first, it started because Sonic wanted the kit nowhere near the sparking dangerous waste or failed experiments. But cleaning began to be a calming activity for Sonic when his nerves ran wild. He does not enjoy it all the time, but when dying of boredom or anxiety, it is nice to have something to do. Or at least make the place look open and fresh. However, bringing that up right now is a bad idea. 

"It's not only about running, though. We need some fresh air! Staying inside can not be good for both of us, bud. So, let's go up, up, up and catch some vitamin D. I know you need some." Sonic hand signs all his words, hoping his enthusiasm and energetic body language will entice Nine to accept his offer. He opens his arms wide at 'air' and mimes catching a fish and reeling it in with 'catch'.

But Nine does not budge - narrowing their eyes. As unamused as a pear. Sonic comically copies their deep frown—still, nothing. The fox is an emotionless wall. Nothing escapes them. 

"You look like a ghost." Sonic whines - dramatically falling behind before catching himself and scurrying past Nine in a flash - tapping on their shoulder.

"Boo!" Sonic shouts, attempting to scare Nine, snickering as he truly falls, this time to the floor - letting his spine cushion his fall. So, he expects accompanying laughter, for a soft, if youthful voice to call him a dork and help him back up.

But as Sonic opens his eyes, it is Nine who is staring him down. Pale blue eyes that glare against the darkness beneath their eyes.

"Why do you want to go to the surface so much?" Nine asks, their voice so faint Sonic almost does not hear it. Sonic blinks. It is the first time he has seen Nine look sad - or what is sad for Nine, at least. Their ears do not droop like Tails, nor do their tails fall limp to the floor in defeat.

Nine does neither of those things. But their eyes are downcast, and they clench their jaw in frustration. But it is the soft tone of their voice that gives them away. Because Sonic knows what frustration on Nine looks like, this is not it.

"Heh?" Sonic makes a confused sound, not understanding their words or the complicated glint in their eyes. 

Nine takes a deep breath, gazing at the ceiling in what feels like a short moment of gathering their will. 

"You've been clamouring to go up every single day. Why do you need to leave so badly?" They bite out, upset. The fur of their fleshy tails puffs like it has been hit with electricity. 

Sonic climbs upright, lifting a brow. I was right. That was not frustration. This is. He notes.

"...Nine, I never said anything about leaving? Are you alright? You might have overworked yourself, chum." Sonic cautiously treads, chuckling to relieve the uneasy tension in the hanger. It feels like the room has been sucked out of oxygen; Sonic can feel it weighing on him. 

"I'm fine." Nine murmurs. Sonic has a feeling that it was not meant for him. It sounds like a reassurance to themself. As if Nine needs to convince themself of being right. 

Nine glances back at Sonic - appraising Sonic. As if he had done something in that short time, Nine did not have their gaze on him. Nine sighs - closing their eyes. They seem exhausted.

"Not yet. I still need to do the last checkups before I can take a rest day." Nine pauses, mulling over their words. They turn their entire body towards Sonic, their body language more open than before. "You understand, don't you, Sonic?" Nine smiles, holding their hands behind their back. It is a better smile than a week ago. But there are still too many teeth with a look that looks too sardonic to be genuine. It feels practised and less reassuring than it is meant to be. 

Sonic bobs his head. It is more than a habit - not meant to be a nonverbal agreement. But Sonic is not going to say otherwise. 

"Okay, but I don't understand why I can't go up there-" 

"We are going to study the emerald structures together! Isn't that what we agreed upon? Don't you want to do that anymore?" Nine interrupts Sonic, staring up with their big blue eyes. Nine lowers themself, not standing high and mighty above him with their bio-mechanical tails. They arch their back to appear even smaller than they are - their gestures more akin to that of a child rather than the teenage bravo Sonic had come to expect from them. Granted, Nine is taller than his Tails. But the action is still superficial.

Sonic taps his finger against the inside of his elbow, keeping his cool. 

"... no, Nine, I love to study those emeralds with you." Sonic grits between clenched teeth, "Just a few more checks, yeah?" 

"I promise." Nine reassures - smiling thinly behind shadowed eyes. They carefully slot themself at Sonic's side, briefly laying their head on Sonic's shoulder. Sonic stills. It is not the first time Nine has shown this sudden need for physical contact. He wakes up daily with the fox stuck to his side. They are like glue attached to his fur and nearly as impossible to remove as it too. But aside from their mornings, every trace of contact feels calculated. Nine's touch is so gentle, like handling something dangerous yet precious. Like they are afraid, Sonic will vanish if they apply too much pressure. 

Nine holds Sonic for a few seconds too long, and then they let go, back to being cold and distant. Their metallic tails click behind them, suspending them to jump on the robot. They linger just near Sonic to give him the chills. As if debating on combing around his spines. Sonic twirls on his feet, not allowing Nine's tails to act on their whims. Chaos knows they do when Nine is not paying attention. 

"Cool beans." Sonic grins, giving a thumbs up. It does not reach his eyes. The duo are mirrors, reflecting each other. Disingenuous to the very last drop of blood in their veins. 

"I'm going to the restroom," Sonic announces, turning away from the conversation in a bored tone. His posture is lax, not waiting for Nine to respond. 

"Okay, you know where it is." Nine does anyway, staring hard into Sonic's back. Sonic does not turn around to confirm it. He can feel it. 

"Of course I do. I have a fantastic sense of direction." He says, the humour plain in his voice. 

"I know." Nine chuckles, a mysterious bit of information only they are privy to hidden in their laugh — Sonic's smile strains.

Sonic strides away, arms behind his head as he whistles a tune. It bounces off the hangar walls, echoing through every little corner and carrying far down the corridors of the bunker. Sonic rounds the corner, finally truly alone. He frowns.

Nine lied to him - straight to his face! He almost did not catch it but recognises Tails' telltales everywhere. The twitching of their right ear as they stared deeply into Sonic's eyes, trying to convince him their every word was the truth. It makes Sonic queasy. How had he not noticed it before?

Sonic was so busy trying not to compare Nine to Tails that he ignored all the signs of something being wrong. He feels so stupid! They are not going up to the surface anytime soon. If ever if he does not do something. Sonic balls his fists, swallowing the frustrated scream building up his throat. He had a hunch he was being lied to. His gut is never wrong but from his little buddy? It makes him madder than anything before.

Although Sonic sighs, his raised spines wilting like flowers. It is his fault for not noticing it sooner. 

But this is Nine we're talking about. A part of Tails - or whatever these Paradox counterparts are! There is no way they would deceive me. Not maliciously, anyway. Sonic tries to rationalise. Nine had to have had a good reason to lie. They have to! No version of Tails could be evil, and even so - Sonic would have noticed it right away if there was a cruel bone in Nine's body. Sure, they have admitted to hurting others before, and their apathy does not help. But Nine is a good person. They may be a sombre and angsty teen, but they are still a version of Tails. Sonic cannot imagine Tails being crooked.

So, maybe it was a white lie to spend time together. Sonic muses. Nine is not the most socially intelligent, despite their obvious intellect. Is this their way of wanting to be close to someone? If only a week has passed. Maybe it really was just maintenance. I can see why Nine has stretched out the time for so long. Machinery is delicate. You can never be too careful with it. However, their subtle insistence on not going to the surface alone is still suspicious.

Sonic thinks back to the tour and the one hallway they did not explore - remembering its circular design and how different it was from the high-ceiling rooms the rest of the bunker possesses. Nine had not even given this place a cursory glance. Sonic brought it up, noting how odd it was as Nine had something to say about every room and hallway. Its design is way more interesting than anything else in the bunker - to Sonic. It is smaller than the other hallways and looks like a room built into a spaceship. 

But Nine had walked ahead, waving off Sonic's question. Only through prodding did the fox answer. They mentioned it being one of the rooms and halls they could not clean as it was too small for the bots to get to and that they would not touch it with their own hands. Too much death, Nine had remarked. Even though they had no trouble describing the other gruesome things, they had cleaned up.

If there is nothing there, it should be okay if I go there. It is not like Nine forbid me from going there. So why not take a peek-

"Where are you going?" 

Sonic jumps. His quills raise, and he falls into a stance to spindash. His heart thumps wildly in his chest and he looks behind him-

It is Nine. It could not be anyone else - no living soul besides them exists here. Still, Sonic does not relax, his previous thoughts plaguing his mind. Is he genuinely safe? He does not feel like it.

Sonic forcibly relaxes his quills when Nine raises a brow, their eyes on Sonic's little spines people don't see because they usually lay flat next to the bigger quills. Perhaps it is the first Nine sees them. Sonic does not get scared often. Still, he does not like it.

"Little buddy, you scared me! I'm going to have a heart attack if you do that again." Sonic jokes with an anxious chuckle, waving his hand in an 'oh you' way.

Nine's eyes burn into him - staring him down. Sonic blinks, realising they come to the same height. He glances down for a split second, allowing his concentration to falter. Nine's tails have raised them from the ground, slowly making their user taller until Nine is completely hovering over him. Just like they did with the robot in the hangar, making themselves larger.

Nine catches his look and looks down as well. They hiss and quickly, as if to rectify a mistake, lower themself. 

Maybe they never noticed that they were doing that. Either way, I don't care. I'm fed up with this. Sonic thinks. 

Even Nine's question feels like a formality. It is hard to tell; with the days spent together, Sonic still has no idea how to read them to the nines. From their tone alone, he finds nothing, and even their body language is neutral as they walk up to the wall. Nine opens a panel and, with their multitool, tinkers with the wires and zappy buttons behind the safety hatch. 

But, Sonic's eyes dart to Nine's tails. They are fanned around Nine, helping them with their task. But their two blonde real tails lay limply alongside their back, a little floofed up more than usual. The support tails curl around it protectively - keeping it far from touching the floor.

Nine is agitated. Sonic knows that for sure. 

"Going to do the bathroom. Didn't I say that already?" Sonic snippily answers, folding his arms. He cannot help but respond in kind. Walking on eggshells for an entire week tired him out. He is done with this attitude of Nine, especially after lying to him. 

It is one thing to fib or lie over something inconsequential, like taking the last doughnut. But about something like Sonic's freedom? He does not know what Nine is keeping secret, but if it has something to do with the surface of the Grim or the Shatterverse, Sonic cannot forgive them. As much as he wants to cajole them and treat them like Tails. If Nine stands in his way to save the universe and the mess he made, he will have to fight them as much as it pains him.

Nine closes the hatch. They stare at the wall and awkwardly scuff their shoes on the floor. Sonic is caught between amusement and being annoyed. 

"Hmm, sure." They murmur, so mellow. Sonic forces away the urge to make a jab. Nine is not his enemy, he reminds himself. This still could be a misunderstanding. 

Nine glances at Sonic, eyes narrowed.

"You know what you're doing, right?" They ask, peering into Sonic's soul. It sounds less like a question and more of a statement. 

"Always." Sonic lies. If Nine is going to be dishonest, then Sonic is too. It is childish, perhaps, but Sonic feels he must - even if his gut churns with it. Something just is not right, and he has to get to the bottom of this — solo style. 

"Just checking." Nine waves their hand, walking into a side hallway. It is to the kitchen if Sonic recalls correctly. They are probably hungry from making their brain work so much all morning. 

"Don't let me keep you waiting. I am not inclined to clean up your messes." Nine shouts so they can be heard, disappearing around the corridor. 

"Puh-lease, Nine. I be embarrassed from here to Angel Island if you needed to clean up after me for anything. I am a responsible hedgehog." Sonic quickly responds, laughing loudly so Nine can hear him in these echoing halls.

Nine does not respond. The silence is thick - filling with dread. Sonic drops the happy facade, grimacing deeply as he walks towards his destination. 

So, what is on the surface that Nine does not want me there? He asks himself, running towards the forbidden corridor Nine warned him against. 

Let's find out, shall we? The voice in Sonic's head replies, as curious as a viper - urging him to take action. He nods, his mind made up.

Sonic enters the circular door, not looking back. The contents of the days flash by him as he treks into it - careful not to make too much sound. Sonic can be silent when he wants to be, but a fox's hearing is sensitive. He does not wish to Nine to know what he is up to. He is unwilling to break the lonely inventor's trust - even if Nine broke it first. 

Looking back on it now, he should have seen the oddness before now. Nine has been tight-lipped about their inventions and work the last few days. They only kept prattling on about how amazing the bunker was and how efficient the worker bots were. Anything else coming from Nine was curt or ignored. Sonic had chalked it up to irritation and lousy sleep. But Sonic knows that Nine has been sleeping better as they wake up together every day. 

Sonic insisted on sleeping elsewhere, wanting to give the teenager more space and privacy. It is not like Sonic is in a critical condition anymore and needs constant supervision. So it should have been fine. But Nine had been adamant about them staying in the same room and sharing supplies. Sonic initially found it cute, and as he missed Tails, he let it be. Now, the thought make him shiver. He does not like it, even if he cannot understand why. But Nine's behaviour is strange. He can no longer ignore it.

It is creepy. Sonic never thought of it until now. From Tails, it would be endearing. But Nine is not Tails. They are a stranger with a familiar face and a familiar story. But they are not his baby sibling or the person he grew up with and half-raised. It ruffles Sonic's fur and spines all the wrong ways. He looks ahead, focusing on his surroundings instead. He can think about this all later. Or better yet, run until his thoughts are drowned and forgotten. Hopefully, he will never think about this again, and everything will fade into a bad dream. 

The corridor is longer than Sonic thought, cleaner too. He wonders if Nine lied about this as well. The walls are sterile white, almost resembling the long halls of a hospital. A high-tech hospital but still a hospital. A laboratory would be more apt, given this place's lack of medical supplies and gurneys. Sonic has been to the med bay before. It was relatively sparse. Most of it had been raided by Nine to put the supplies closer to the bedroom/makeshift lab in case of emergency. Even so, the bunker had green boxes with first aid kits everywhere. Sonic doubts that they are still stocked with the needed supplies, and if they are - they must have expired already. 

The revelation does not make Sonic feel any better. He would prefer a hospital setting to a lab anytime. Even if it was not alive specimens, this bunker was used to test on. 

The corridor has no hallways leading into different corridors or side doors. Nor does the stench of death that should be here, as Nine said, permeate the facility. There is only one big metal door up ahead. It looms forebodingly in front of Sonic. He frowns but does not hesitate to zip over to it. Impatient for the truth. Sonic studies the circular door. It reminds him of a bottle cap. Does that mean I'm inside a bottle? Could a giant come by and twist it open like a cold one? That would be funny. Sonic muses, allowing himself a little chuckle. 

He looks around for a control panel - interested in what is behind the door. Despite what people might think, Sonic is not inept with computers. He seems that way because Tails is such a technical genius; everyone looks like a Luddite next to the child prodigy. With how militaristic the bunker is, things like control panels are obvious and labelled. Sonic cannot read the tiny letters on it, but obviously, the big red button has to be the one that opens it. 

He hovers over it, hesitating. Sonic notes the wear and tear on it. He surveys the control panel again and spots a key slot and a pictogram of turning it clockwise while turning a side-hand crank. Only the key is nowhere to be seen. Sonic clicks his tongue. He has a good idea of who would have that key. He glances behind him, considering going back to search for it. From the hole size, it must be small, and knowing Nine, no doubt they would keep it on their person. They are paranoid like that. 

He taps the metallic surface of the panel, irritated. Sonic peeks down at his shoes, watching the hexagonal patterns stream soft light against the strange matching flooring. He snaps his fingers, grinning with an electrifying idea.

Sonic runs into place, buzzing as he arches his quills and rubs his arms. Static electricity fizzles out of him, and he touches the panel again. The charge does not open the door right away, but the power from the paradox phenomenon fries the circuits, making them unable to process the foreign energy. 

After all,  Sonic muses smugly as the door opens with a hiss of pressurised air -  all electrical doors must be able to be opened in case of system failure, so naturally, it would open. Tails taught me that one.

He runs into the room, uncaring for the darkness that envelopes him. The door closes behind him with a clang. He turns back around, wondering if it somehow repaired itself after he damaged it. That would be Nine's work, no doubt. But that thought is quickly forgotten as the lights spark alive.

Despite the fanfare it took to get in, a dark, cosy lab greets him. It used to be a large room, as the ceiling is broad and spans all over. But the room dividers and clutter make it appear smaller. Sonic cocks his head, unsure of what to make of it. It is strangely familiar but not in the way Tails or Dr Eggman's labs are. Nor is it the acidic red and yellow colour scheme of the Choas Council that made everything look sickly and furious. Like a horrible throbbing wound, sending memories of smoke and close deaths to mind. 

It looks like a work in progress, with the only ambience being the glow of purple crystals jutting out of the ground. The walls and desks are overfilled with tools and paper. Blueprints, scrolls, notes. There is no telling which is which except for the blueprints. Those are literally blue. 

Sonic moves closer to the computer. The lab has been recently used. They are cups of coffee, nutrition bar wrappers scattered about and recent pencil shavings carelessly dumped into a rubbish bin. It smells fresh, at least. Sonic has used traditional media before to sketch and fill in forms. He knows the scent of charcoal and dry wood carved by a sharpening knife. 

Tails usually use mechanical pens because they cannot stand the mess or the smell with their oversensitive nose. But it would be up Nine's alley not to have that luxury, although Sonic is assured of their ability to create one. Without the incentive, Nine would never have thought to make such a simple yet effective tool. 

Sonic shakes his head. He needs to get his head in the game. The sooner I'm done here, the sooner I will be with my friends. I need to move on. 

Luckily for Sonic, Nine did not bother turning off their computer. The blue holographic screen flares alive. It is Nine's signature, with a logo to match. If Sonic had any doubts they are laid to rest now. The computer does not ask for a password. It is set into standby mode rather than sleep mode. Sonic is lucky. He would expect a thorough person like Nine to put in a password system if their tech was idle for five minutes. Apparently not so. They must have turned off sleep mode. Sonic reasons. Tails does the same thing for their tech. 

Sonic does not want to find out when his luck will run out. The longer he spends time in the lab, the more sand trickles to the bottom of the hourglass.

Why would Nine keep their lab a secret? I don't understand. Sonic drums his fingers across his bicep, his frown only deepening.

On the first tabs are programs running diagnostics, a few rendering programs displaying Nine's creations in full 3D and a schedule with nonsensical titles. As if they had to work in code rather than straight up typing what was on the menu for the week. But digging further into the computer, blueprints from more recent inventions pop up. These are machines and creations Sonic has not seen before. They are the ones he expects, like the robots Nine built to help them around the base. But then there is a blueprint of the prism crystal - completely whole on their desktop. Reports about the Chaos Council's movements and battles already won. Schematic for robots that look like his friends, with bits and pieces added from the multiple counterparts across the shatter-verse. Even the Flicky from Boscage is in here, a creature Nine should not know of. 

Similarly, he clicks on one of the icons on the desktop - a sketch of his anatomy with documented scientific research on hedgehogs appears. With the bones and innards mapped out and labelled. Sonic suppresses the cold shiver. The regular text seems to be printed from a typical mobian hedgehog biology. But the blue text and extra lines are definitely about him. It details his powers in an awe-filled narrative that leaves an ashy taste in Sonic's mouth.

He likes to be admired. Amy and Knuckles would call him an attention hog, while Shadow declared him conceited. But to be adored is a great feeling. But Sonic is also familiar with the ugly side of worship. He was always able to shrug it off. He is a hero! Nobody could really keep him down for long, and even so, he lived so far away from civilisation that no ordinary citizen could get to him without running into Dr Eggman or Tails safety measures.

To see that same fascination in Nine's words, Sonic cannot help but feel ill. He shakes his head wildly until it hurts. He does not want to believe it. Nine is a scientist. It is just scientific curiosity. He asserts, clicking away from the document. He does not read the following text - he has seen enough. 

Sonic looks down at the desk, unsure what to make of this. He glances at the papers around him, willing the evidence to disappear and be replaced by something that makes more sense. But no. Some pages are yellowed from overuse, crinkling from being picked up and read through repeatedly. Most of them are chicken scratch, but the sketches on them tell him too much already.

More than a week or two has passed, and the possibility of more frightens Sonic.

A wave of nausea washes him, and Sonic stumbles, catching the curtains next to the table. He falls over, ripping the fabric from the rack. Sonic looks up, lights swimming in his eyes. He sees brown and green and rationalises it must be the sky and sand from the Grim. Except he is in a bunker. There are no skies or sands, not so deep underground. Sonic focuses on the bright colours and gasps. Palm trees! Enveloped by the light of a heat lamp are bonafide palm trees with coconuts and everything else attached to them. They grow from the crystals, and the curves look strange, but Sonic does not care - scrambling upright to touch them. 

He embraces one of the palm trees - nuzzling the bark, uncaring of how his face smarts from the rough texture. 

"Oh, you're beautiful! How I missed you!" He says to no one but himself. He takes a step back, admiring it. It reminds him of the lone palm tree in the rebels' base in New Yoke. Except that one had been an old thing, barely held together with the rebellion's meagre supplies and tender love and care from its members. These look young and spry, blooming with youthful maturity and ripe coconuts. 

Sonic grins, jumping on the hammock tied between the two palm trees - relaxing for what feels like forever. The comforting sway of the hammock almost lulls him to sleep. 

He takes a deep breath, expecting the scent of fresh grass, clean air and a slight hint of salt. But nothing but the staleness of enclosed space greets him. He cracks his eyes open, wishing that the visages in his mind would align with reality. But no, only a dark ceiling and an ominous purple glow invade his gaze. Sonic reaches his hand up his hand, imagining the bright blue sky to appear between his gloved fingers, for the hardy sun to shine down at him. even if the glare burns into his eyes. He would never take the oppressive heat of the sun for granted again.

The ocean world had come close to his home with the open sky and unyielding sun high in the sky. But for its many similarities, it was yet another world where things were not quite right. Sonic would take anything but a world that was flooded. The thought of never getting to his maximum speed because of the lack of friction has his spines standing upright in frustration. And well, even though his hover boots kept him from falling into the sea - the very threat still plagued him.

Sonic pauses, examining the faint memories blossoming in his mind's eye. An ocean world? When did I go to an ocean world? He muses, bewildered. Although calling it the Ocean World did not feel right either. It has a name. He did not know how he knew that, but it does. 

He sits upright, staring at his lap. But he gets distracted—his finger trails over where his scars should be. Scars do not suddenly disappear. Sure, he forgot about them more often than not. His fur hides most of them pretty well, and with his accelerated healing factor, he is back on his feet in no time compared to his friends. But he can still feel the salty burn stinging his nerves - forgotten in the heat of battle. Even if, by some strange coincidence, he is imagining those sensations, his old scars should not have vanished. 

He touches his chest, most baffled by the lack of chest scars. It is one of his most prominent scars, and Sonic is darn proud of them. Sure, they are not that noticeable, pale lines that blend in very well with his lighter fur. It would have been different if his chest had been as blue as the rest of him. Only parts of it are still pinkish; even then, he healed pretty well over the years. 

Sonic pushes some of his fur back, wondering if his coat grew thicker. It is not Winter, far from it. But he would not put it past his biology being wacky after his world broke and splintered. He searches, but no, no scars. Sonic frowns, feeling dread rise from his gut. It travels to his fingers, growing numb as he digs his nails into the grain of his pelt - combing for what should be there. Sonic rips off his glove for better purchase, feeling something is not fur or sticking to his skin. He grabs it and swiftly pulls it away. Sonic blinks at it, staring at the tiny slip of translucent tape and what it had hidden.

His surgery scars. Those familiar pale lines are a little jagged from when he popped a stitch trying to exercise a little earlier than he should. But still, the same patches of scar tissue yield no feeling when he follows his fingertips across them. 

Sonic heaves a sigh of relief. Perhaps it is strange to feel relief to find his scars to be there still. Most would prefer for all blemishes to be gone. But Sonic loves his surgery scars. They show how far he has come and how much further he will go to be himself. They are a sign of pride, not to be hidden and ashamed of. 

Sonic stares at the tape, wondering how he had not seen or felt it before. When he had to tape his scars weeks after his initial surgery, he had been very aware of the drag and feel of the tape against his skin and fur. Even when he used similar tape that blended against his palette, one could still see it if they focused on it. It barely feels like anything at all between Sonic's fingers. If he were to let go, it would disintegrate and float away. Sonic tosses it aside, not willing to entertain the idea of how it got even on him. He knows he will not like that answer, knowing who is responsible for it, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. 

He removes the similar tape from the other side of his chest. An alarm blares through the lab as he throws it aside. Sonic leaps from the hammock and he rushes to the computer. It sounds like an alarm from a phone but bit-crushed to the high heavens. Still, Sonic tries to close the pop-up before Nine hears it. The situation dawns back on him, reminding him of how little time he has to spare. Nobody takes bathroom breaks that long, and with how paranoid Nine is, it will not be long before they come looking for him. 

But whatever Sonic does, he cannot find which program the alarm is coming from. It keeps blaring over the lab coms until he hits enter, hoping that will disengage the pop-up. For a moment, it is silent until the speakers crackle alive - sending a pop window of a video call on the screen. Sonic scrambles to disconnect it - afraid he contacted Nine's communicator or, worse, the Choas Council.

"Sonic! A cry rips instead from the computer's speakers, freezing Sonic in his tracks. He blinks in surprise, recognising the voice before the feed loads in. Happy to see someone familiar. 

Chapter Text

"Shadow! It's really you! Oh, you're a sight for sore eyes." Sonic cries, opening his arms wide with a cheeky grin, "I missed seeing your grumpy face." 

The shaky video feed of Shadow appears on the screen, no doubt from him skating and peering down at his communicator simultaneously. It is hard to keep a steady feed while on two feet. Sonic would know. Tails has complained about it enough times for him to remember to stand still when looking at his receiver. Sonic glances at his wrist. He is not sure to be disappointed or unnerved when not Tail's tech greets him, but the cold, unfeeling design of Nine's communicator sits on his arm. 

He blinks. Did Nine ever give him a communicator? They must have, or it would not be on his wrist. He does not want to think of other possibilities. 

"As unfortunate as it is that you're still your aggravating self-" 

"You don't mean that. I know how much you care about me." Sonic croons, rolling his wrist in an 'oh you flatterer' motion, sinking back into their familiar banter. 

Briefly, annoyance appears across Shadow's said grumpy face. But it is gone instantly, a more severe and grave expression taking place. If Shadow is this quick to shrug off his irritation, we're in a worse situation than I thought. Sonic realises, an icy feeling washing over him. 

"-I am relieved to see you in one piece. We won't be able to restore our world if you're gone." 

A rock settles at the bottom of Sonic's gut. He cannot even remark on Shadow's sincere words. This is not normal. Shadow did not do we's. Shadow is a lone wolf who would not know what trust or asking for help meant if he read him the dictionary from A to Z out loud. Knowing Shadow, he would have personally crossed out the words on his own dictionary - like the young adult that he is who grew up during the fifties and got cryonically frozen. Shadow probably owns a phone book, too. Rouge and Omega are exceptions to the rule for whatever reason, and they are quick to disperse when their goal is met. 

It makes Sonic swallow the quip he had ready. 

"I- what happened?" Sonic nervously asks. He does not want to know, but staying in denial will worsen things. He can trust Shadow to give it to him straight, even if it will hurt - a lot. 

Shadow's features contort into rage, pulling his lips back to reveal his teeth in a snarl. Oh yeah, that's the Shadow I recognise. I should not feel nostalgic as I do now, but logic be damned, right? Sonic muses sardonically. 

"What do you mean what happened?! Nine took the Prism Shards! You know this! I told you we couldn't trust them. You led yourself be blinded by-" Shadow cuts himself off, stopping in his tracks to really take Sonic in. Sonic is unsure what Shadow sees through the camera, but whatever he does, it cannot be good to make him, of all people, worried. Sonic is uncertain if he has ever seen Shadow so openly concerned before, eyes wide as his frown deepens into an awkward grimace. 

"Sonic, why is there a bandage wrapped around your head?" He questions, eyes narrowed in suspicion. For once, it is not directed at Sonic himself but rather at the nebulous concept that is Nine. Although Sonic is confident, he has yet to introduce these to each other. He would have remembered that, right? The chance of seeing two very broody and angsty people meeting each other and having an awkward conversation is the opportunity of a lifetime. How could Sonic ever forget two people who are so like-minded interacting for the first time? Shadow and Nine are similar in the most uncanny ways. He is sure they would have gotten along fantastically. Or knowing how driven those two can be - catastrophically. 

"Oh yeah, I think I had a concussion," Sonic says, rubbing his temple. He forgot about the bandage. It is unnecessary now, but he had no reason to remember to take it off, either. Even though he was at odds with Nine at the moment, he did not want to reveal that they were the ones who treated him.

Shadow's words come in like molasses. He only recognises the last half he spoke. They sift in slowly, slotting into sensical thoughts as he watched Shadow's face morph in horror.

"What did they do to you?" Shadow murmurs, more to himself than Sonic. Sonic's ears twitch. He was not supposed to hear that, as Shadow schools his expression, lowering his metal walls once again. 

"Who?" Sonic queries because from Shadow's words, he is implying that Nine-

"That fox! When they knocked you out and kidnapped you, I had thought you would bounce back and meet back with me back at Ghost Zone in less than an hour." Shadow screams. His efforts to remain unaffected did not work, tearing down the walls he erected around himself. 

"I didn't think..." But he trails off, his voice pittering off in disbelief. 

"You're still not here…" He says, staring off into the distance. His eyes seeing far, yet nothing at all. 

Sonic cannot believe it. This must be a different Shadow. Paradox Space ripped apart his friends and made copies of them that felt familiar yet strange. Perhaps this is a more concerned version of Shadow, overruled by the protective instinct he hides behind so many shields he could arm medieval armies. But he just looks like the Shadow he remembers. The same tan and dark fur, red highlights and brown eyes that look crimson in the right light. This cannot be anyone but his Shadow, even as doubt still plays in his mind. 

Still, he cannot believe his words or the vast array of emotions Shadow displays. It is all so unbelievable. 

"What? Shadow, you'll have to explain it to me in full, bud. I am not following - like at all." Sonic chuckles anxiously, feeling his sanity trickling away bit by bit. He can feel it, like the sifting of sand gathering at the bottom of an hourglass - whispering in his ears. 

"Wouldn't be the first time." Shadow scoffs, returning to his old self. A glimpse of a fang pokes from his forced smirk. Sonic appreciates seeing it, even if Shadow's words are at his own expense. It is so bizarre seeing Shadow care about him. Even if they are rivals who punch and kick each other without as much as saying hello - they still have each other's backs. It is heartwarming as it is strange. 

"Har har. Blame it on my concussion, or I would have punched you for this - friendly on the shoulder, mind you. I don't need you to make this headache worse with a counter-attack." Sonic jokes, swinging his fist to indicate a cordial punch to the shoulder. 

Shadow does not look relieved in the slightest, raising his brow.

"Sonic - when have you ever gotten a concussion from our fights?"

"Huh-"

"I know I don't control my temper well-" 

"Define well."

"Quiet. But you always bounce back on your feet - as irritating as it is. What in Chaos could have given you, of all people, a concussion when not even I could break through your thick skull?" Shadow pushes, stomping forward. Sonic can tell from how the frame of the video shakes a little. But he is not skating, that is for sure.

Shadow readies himself for a jump. If Sonic doubted Shadow was in the Void, he would not be anymore. Shadow disappears for a second from his sight, the backdrop replaced by a vast black yawning abyss. Flashes of panic and horror appear in Sonic's mind, his voice screaming his rival's name as Shadow fell into that void - to the bright green glimmer that shined like a distant star. 

He shakes his head. He cannot stand still and process, or his head will combust. 

"Ah, I appreciate the encouragement, Shads. But Nine would not-"

"Lie to you? They already betrayed you. There is no limit to what they will do, and looking at you, even you are not safe." Shadow reasons, sounding pained. 

"Shadow…" Sonic wants to argue with Shadow. He wants to believe in Nine. But he has already established to himself he does not trust Nine anymore. What is the point of arguing now? His presence inside their secret lab is already proof enough that he lost all the trust he had. 

Shadow's face reappears, his expression almost pitying. Sonic discards his gaze. He does not want to see it. Receiving pity from Shadow is the last thing he wants. 

"We can't talk long. If you're the one who accepted my call, I can't imagine Nine is going to let the connection last for long. They will know sooner than later that you're using their computer. I would not put it past them to an alarm for malicious malware on their devices. Although they are taking a while getting here." Shadow says, worry creeping into his voice.

"You need to focus on escape. When you're out, I can tell you everything that happened. No chance of being eavesdropped either." Shadow finishes. Sonic nods. That sounds reasonable. As much as he wants an explanation now, Sonic knows he is not ready to have his world shaken, not when he still feels so woozy. 

"Right, right. I…” Sonic trails off, using a hand to steady himself on the bench console. He searches his most recent memory before he woke up at the bunker. He could have sworn he was talking to Nine as they showed off the Grim, pride and awe in their voice. 

Then why do I remember all these snippets of events that have not happened? Shadow should not be here, whole and functioning. The paradox crystal should not have been assembled. And all those diagrams... Nothing of this makes sense. Sonic muses. 

"You're my Shadow, right? I'm not talking to a different version of you?" He knows that cannot be the case; too much evidence says the contrary. But he must know for sure. As happy as he is that someone recognises him and is from his world to help him through this mess he made - it feels too good to be true. 

"Sonic," Shadow starts in that familiar 'I'm going to lecture you' voice. Sonic already regrets asking, "I know you have a legitimate reason to be so obtuse right now, but if you use your head, you would know I am from your world." Shadow grits out - completely skirting by Sonic calling him 'his shadow'. Sonic bobs his head, relieved he did not call him on it. Out of context, he supposes that would be rather embarrassing. Although if Shadow looked scandalised by it, he would not mind it so much. It would have been funny.

A strange sense of deja vu comes over him. He frowns, blinking rapidly.

"Did we have this conversation before?"

Shadow seems uneasy, grimacing at the Void as he avoids Sonic's asking eyes. 

"Something like that. Focus, you need to get out right now."

"Right! I'm going to need to hang up. Bye!" Sonic hovers over the 'end call' button, his leg already outstretched to start running, even though he has no idea where to go. 

But Shadow's irritated sigh stops him.

"Connect me to your communicator first. I need to be able to guide you so you don't screw up." The 'again' is left in the air, but Sonic still hears it in its absence. He does not comment on it as much as he wants to. The situation is too tense for it. "If you hang up now, I don't doubt Nine will sever this connection forever." 

Sonic cocks his head. Now that he thinks about it, Shadow was somehow able to reach someone as sneaky as Nine, which is a wonder on its own, especially across dimensions. How is this even possible?

"How did you get in anyway? Nine is way too-"

"Paranoid? Well, nobody expects a video call disguised as an alarm. Although, I was not sure it would work. I was lucky that you answered instead of them." Shadow explains, going back to skating and jumping through the shatter-verse. He uses the blast from his skates to propel himself forward when the power of his jump is not enough.

Or, well, air shoes. Sonic thinks, a little annoyed. He scratches the inside of his ear shell, pulling a face. They're just skates, a little pretentious there, Shads. 

"Well, okay. I am glad you did. But I have no idea how to get you on my communicator. I am not as tech-savvy as Tails is." Sonic gestures to the computer. Figuring out the controls is as hard as it is already. Aside from the similarities to his own laptop back home, everything else is alien to him.

Sonic wonders if this technically counts as alien when there is not even a space right now for space travel. Does the Void count as space? Well, as long as no alien invaders come to complicate things, I don't care. Sorry, Shadow, no offence. He muses, hoping that Black Arms DNA did not give Shadow mind-reading powers. However, he doubts that even if Shadow had that ability, he could use it with them being dimensions apart. 

"It's easy on your front. Just click the link I will send through the chatlog, and you're golden." Shadow types something on the keyboard of his communicator, and in no time, the chatbox pings with a new message. Sonic clicks on the log, noting the suspicious link sitting neat and ready for him to click on.

"Wow! Where did you learn to hack Shadow? I didn't expect that from you." Sonic says, in awe as he clicks on it. It takes him to a pop-up screen that soon makes the computer download fishy files. He would feel bad for Nine, but if Shadow was right about what they did, they deserve a little computer virus worming into their tech.

It is not heroic of him, but Sonic feels bitter about Nine lying to him. He will feel bad about it later. He has bigger fish to fry than his guilty conscience. 

"This isn't 'hacking'. I've just got a few codes and viruses stored here in case of emergency." Shadow explains, getting into it as Sonic listens, watching the download bar fill bit by bit, "As for the connection in the void, prism energy is strangely a lot like a satellite connection except stronger. As long as I stay on the wavelength it passed through, our connection should stay, and with the four prisms attached to each other - the signal is stronger than it normally is."

That explains what Shadow is doing; he follows the connection to the Grim. Clever for someone born in the fifties. Sonic internally praises. He always knew Shadow was a smart cookie, but seeing it in action is a different experience. Shadow and Tails would get along well if Shadow dropped those steel walls of his. I need to arrange a way for these two nerds to discuss their hyperfixations. Chaos knows these two need the socialisation. Sonic finishes his thought with a nod. 

"So Nine really…" Sonic begins, rubbing his arm. Yet he cannot finish his sentence. He does not even want to consider Nine capable of doing this. Every fibre in his body refuses to admit it. But Shadow, as emotionally constipated as he is, is not a liar, and it is not like Nine has been honest this whole time. Even before the bunker, they focused on their survival before anyone else. Sonic will never know how he wormed his way into their cold iron heart. He will figure it out later when he does not feel like he is severing a limb for going behind Tails' back.

Nine, Sonic reminds himself. Going behind Nine's back. 

Whatever happened that I cannot remember, it was big enough for Nine to take such drastic measures. I will have to convince them another time. I have to escape, like yesterday. Sonic determinedly decides. He cannot spend a day longer inside this bunker. He will go mad. 

"Don't concern yourself with that right now. I will give you grief over it another time." Shadow chimes in just as Sonic steels his resolves. 

"Ha! I look forward to it." Sonic laughs. Shadow fondly shakes his head, letting a tiny glimmer of cheerfulness through his stony exterior. Sonic grins. He is happy to have Shadow at his side. A light in the dark. How ironic, with his name. However, the brightest lights cast the strongest shadows. It would make sense for Shadow to shine brightly, even if his heroism is a lantern light on a lone, empty street. Sonic thinks to himself, coming to a realisation. Man, concussions make me really poetic. I should just get my head sloshing out of my ears the next time Amy tries to get me into her poetry nights.

Shadow's natural frown returns, bringing them both back to the present as the alarm blares over the room coms. Sonic jumps, his head whizzing around to look at the speakers. They are not like the call disguised as an alarm by Shadow. They are loud and blaring, with flashing lights bathing the room in foreboding red. 

"The malware infiltrated Nine's system, which means they know I'm here. You need to get out." The call vanishes from the computer. Sonic gasps, pressing every button on the keyboard to get Shadow back. He just got him back - he cannot lose the only friend he has left from his world.

"-now!" Shadow's voice resounds from his wrist. Sonic looks over, his system flooding with relief. He should have known that would happen, which was why the alarms went off. 

"Rodger, Rodger! Commencing escape - now!" He yells in case Shadow does not hear him. He would not put it past him. The alarms are very loud. Sonic would do anything for a painkiller right now, even though most over-the-counter pain prescriptions are filtered out as soon as they hit his blood system. The noise is only making his headache worse. Sometimes, he really regrets becoming so intuned with Choas and whatever energy that allows him to save the world of the year. It made it impossible to dull the pain. 

"Good. I will stay on the line, just in case." Shadow says, sounding just a teensy bit guarded. Perhaps he missed Sonic, even if he would never admit it to anyone. Or his faith in Sonic is tinier than microscopic. Sonic does not care. He embraces the ease it gives him. 

"Coolio." Sonic winks, clicking his tongue. His hands form double-finger guns, and he zooms through the room to find an exit different from the door he came through. 

Shadow groans on the line. Sonic smiles. Yeah, it's great to have him back. 

Going back the way he came will inevitably make him run into Nine. Sonic is confident he can take them, but if he can avoid fighting Nine, he will. It just does not sit right with him to fight them, even if it were the right thing to do. He cannot bear to look at Nine right now, not when all these horrible things are still solidifying in his mind. Keeping him here, lying and stealing the paradox crystal is already bad enough. He cannot comprehend the other things Nine has done. Not now, or he will break. 

Sonic knocks down dividers, searching as the alarm blaring acts like a clock ticking. Each time the droning sound loops, it is a second closer to Nine bursting in here. Sonic, for once, feels lucky that this bunker is so big. When Nine figures out where the alarm is coming from, it would still take them at least some time to get here. They do not have supersonic speed, after all, nor do they have Tails' stamina, as his sibling is used to keeping up with Sonic over the years. 

Nine cannot have only one door, even if it is risky to have a back entrance. Nine is way too paranoid of getting trapped to do to themself. Still, that does not mean Nine would make it easy for Sonic to discover it. He throws his head, shouting in frustration. He looks at the ceiling, seeing a strange rectangle outline reflecting in the red light. 

He smirks. Gotcha. 

Sonic runs over to the tarp covering the floor. What looks to be just a slim cupboard is actually a control panel. He presses the buttons on it without hesitation, rejoicing when it flares alive.

"You found a way out yet?" Shadow asks, keeping the anxiousness very carefully out of his voice. Sonic does not notice, too elated. 

"Heck yeah, Shadow! Here goes one ticket to Surface Land! Everyone all on board! This train is leaving the station." Sonic hollers, whistling horribly with two fingers in his mouth. He makes the motion of people needing to hurry up, even though nobody is there but him and the annoyed hedgehog on the line.

"I swear, when I get to you, I will punch you - hard."

"Aw, Shads, keep the sweet talk for later. So unprofessional. We are saving the world right now. What would HR say?" Sonic chuckles, bouncing around the slowly moving platform to keep himself busy. Shadow's annoyed sigh is music to his ears. Looking at his communicator, he can see Shadow pinching his brow, so much anguish and regret washing over his eyes in a split second. It is a delight to see. 

The platform is relatively slow, and the hatch above opens up just as slowly. But at least it is opening and not malfunctioning. With Sonic's luck lately, it is a miracle it even works at all.

"Can this thing not go any faster?" Sonic bemoans, tapping his foot impatiently on the platform. 

"Don't jinx it. Knowing your track record, you saying that will-" The sound of the door sliding open catches the hedgehogs off guard. Sonic crouches to the floor, even though he knows that will not make him quieter or hide him. It is a force of habit as the light footfalls of the one person he does not want to see run into the room - rummaging around to find the cause of the alarm. 

"Shit - shit! Come on, ascend faster!" Sonic curses, inching towards the control panel and pressing the up button repeatedly in the false hope that the lift will go faster. It does not. 

"Stay calm, or they will hear you." Shadow warns him, his whisper harsh. Sonic does not note the panic on his face, not having the time to look at his wrist.

"How! The alarm is loud enough to drown us out!" He whisper-yells back, despite his words still being afraid of that possibility. The alarm clicks off, drowning them in uncomfortable silence. The creaking of the platform fills the room, thickening the tension.

Nine does not react immediately, as if they are unsure what they hear—frozen in disbelief. Their footsteps resound like thunder as they finally act, jerkily drawing back the curtains. 

Sonic looks over his shoulder, heart caught in his throat. A familiar, unfamiliar fox stares at him; surprise etched on their face as it quickly morphs into anger.

"Oh, Nine." Sonic greets with a hysteric laugh, "Great to see ya, bud."

Chapter Text

Sonic sits on the metal platform with the control panel clutched in his arms as if he will fall if the lift jostles even a little bit. He does not care how ridiculous he looks, going up to a long tunnel and travelling at a snail's pace. Nine looks furious, throwing their hands in the air. They can barely get a coherent sound out of their maw. An uncontained scream bursts free, filling the creaking air with incoherent cursing. Every attempt at words fails Nine, and it frustrates them further. In the end, Nine gives up trying to speak. Their metallic tails shudder as they get in stance - rearing to launch themself in a fury.

That is Sonic's cue to move. He rolls backwards, wondering if he can jump and run alongside the vertical walls. But, when he tries, he cannot keep up his momentum, landing back on the lift. Sonic glances over the lip of the platform. It has risen enough that Nine cannot simply jump on. They do try, though. Sonic blanches at their spider-like mannerisms as they jump. But Nine is just a hair short from their fingers catching purchase. Sonic sighs in relief. Except Nine emerges in front of him, deeply unamused, flying with their tails above the floor. 

Their shoe kisses the metal, readying a careful descent. Though Sonic is faster than Nine, spin-dashing them off the lift before he can think. Nine lands into the curtains dividers unceremoniously. The drapery unhooks from impact, dragging the ornery fox into their captive embrace. They screech, clawing the sheets away from their person like a ferocious animal. Sonic supposes that is not too far off from the truth with the feral look in their icy blues.  

"Sorry, buddy! Nothing personal." Sonic yells, hoping Nine will not be too mad. Only angry screaming answers him back, but Sonic has a feeling that Nine is more pissed about getting entangled than his poor choice of words. 

"Sonic. Stop wasting time and move!" Shadow's voice cuts through Sonic's concern, reminding him why he is trying to escape in the first place. Sonic turns back to the control panel, widely pressing buttons in a panic. It only increases when a very loud rip meets his swivelled ears. 

Looks like Nine got loose. Don't look. That will make it worse. Sonic muses, fighting the urge to do just that. But he must stay strong! He knows he will cave if he stares for too long; no doubt, Nine would use that hesitance. 

"How the heck do I get this thing to go faster?!" He shouts, jamming the up button fruitlessly. 

"Not by wildly pressing buttons, you won't! That's a surefire way to get a system overload." Shadow unhelpfully chimes. Sonic hisses but obeys, ceasing his rapid tapping. He takes another gander at the panel with a grimace. 

"But there is gotta be a way…," Sonic says, his brain rapidly firing for what he could do. He has always done his best thinking under pressure. So when his eyes catch the sight of his shoes, a bright idea pops into his head, Shadow's words reminding him of a neat little trick he just learned, "Wait! I got it." 

Sonic jogs in one place and, in no time, flat, build up enough static electricity. Just like he did for the lab door, he touches the control panel, giving it an extra boost.

"No, what are you doing?! The platform will likely shut down then go faster as a safety precaution-!" The deafening groan of the mechanical platform cuts off Shadow. Sonic freezes, and he glances at Nine for the split second that he has. Their eyes widen, having been tinkering with the guts of the generator connected to the lift just as Sonic was fiddling with the control panel. Probably to bring it back down so Sonic could not escape. But that is futile now. Sonic can pinpoint the exact moment the realisation hits the fox. Fear eroding the feral anger on Nine's face.

Oh, I fucked up. 

Sonic does not have the time to process the thought before being violently launched upwards, gravity glueing him to the metal sheet as it breaks through the earth's surface. 

"Whoa, oohhhhhhhh~!" Sonic cries, feeling the sweet relief of air, and the properties of the outside hit him all at once. The platform slides from his back, tethered to his person no longer. Sonic can only catch a second of reprieve, staring at the endless emerald sky. He is dragged down by gravity - once again a slave to its whims.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"  Sonic screams very eloquently. The wind harshly tugs at him as he skyrockets back to earth, vertigo kicking in just as he realises he is upside down and hurling headfirst to the endless dunes. Sonic tries to roll up in a ball at the last second, but his throbbing head makes him hesitate a second too long. Landing with his face into the ground, painfully and mercilessly.

He lays there, head stuck in the sand before he becomes aware he cannot breathe. Sonic wrestles himself out of it, spitting out chunks of sand and dirt. It is a disgusting taste, and Sonic wipes his face aggressively to get all of it. It is in his eyes, nose, mouth and even his ears! He hates it so damn much! More than he hates the rolling in his stomach or how his head throb from his graceful landing. The texture makes his spines stand upright, repeatedly shaking off the debris until he feels most of it is out of his face and body. Although he doubts he is free of the curse of sand. It is in sand's very nature to get stuck everywhere.

This is why I don't like going to the beach. Well, aside from the whole ocean bit. Sonic muses, scowling deeply. I hate water, but sand is coming very close to being the runner-up.  

"Sonic! Sonic! Answer me! Are you dead?! It would be my goddamn luck if you died now of all times!" Sonic's ear swivels to his wrist, shaking them for good measure as Shadow's voice comes in a little muffled. He cringes as sand granules trickle out of his ear. 

"Yes, yes - I'm fine. I just need to catch my bearings. Ugh, my head." Sonic tries to laugh, groaning as the forced chuckle only makes his headache worse. He raises his hand to his temple, wincing.

Where is some Tylenol when you need it? Screw it. I can do with some morphine right about now. Fuck this hurts. Sonic thinks, grateful that nobody is here to see him in his moment of weakness. Where did my natural resistance to pain go? Call up the doctor. I'm in critical p-a-i-n right now. 

"Good, that pain means you're alive. Now, get to it. Nine cannot be far behind." Shadow says curtly, not a hint of the concern or fear in his voice that he had prior.

Sonic scoffs. Would it kill him to show a little sympathy? It would probably. But Soinic wisely does not voice his remark. 

"Okay, Mister Brightside, thank you for your concern," Sonic sighs, "I wouldn't worry about that, though. Nine is not as fast, Tails." Sonic rebukes, his vision returning to him as he lifts his head, squinting through the red haze of sand. 

"Hmm, interesting," Shadow says simply, as if Nine is not impressive in their own right.

"Well, Nine is plenty clever. They did invent all of this and that and the tech on my shoes and gloves, but they never had…" Sonic starts, ready to defend Nine's accomplishments. Only, he trails off - reminded of how Nine turned out to be this way. They never had a me to keep up with or care for them. To be their brother.  Sonic clenches his eyes shut, trembling. This is all my f-

"Whatever you're thinking of, eject it from your mind. Fast or not. Nine will be coming, and you need to be anywhere but here." 

Sonic's breath shudders, shaken from his thoughts. He nods, even though Shadow is not here to see it. Neither would he be able to see it through the light sandstorm raging in the desert. It is like the light drizzle of rain, except more irritating with the sand particles blowing into Sonic's eyes. 

"I can't argue with that," Sonic says. 

"Despite your concussion and fall, you have not lost permanent brain cells," Shadow grunts, pausing, a smirk in his voice. "-yet."

Sonic glowers at his wrist, scoffing under his breath. He may not be able to see Shadow, but he hopes his rival can feel his heated glare through the comm - despite being dimensions apart. 

"You're such a charmer! I oughta to give a 10 out of 10 for bedside manners, nurse Shadow. A hundred per cent recommendation." Sonic quips dryly, perhaps a little too sharp.

"Focus." But Shadow does not take the bait. Sonic sighs. As much as Shadow acts unaffected, he is not as unflappable as he seems. Although Sonic knows it is more complicated. Shadow is just too guarded to be genuine.

"Alright, alright - focusing. I'm the number one Focus Guy, that's me." Sonic mumbles, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sandstorm, ignoring Shadow's responding groan of dismay. The Grim's sand is a crimson-deep red. It was such an irregular colour, yet beautiful, contrasting the emerald skies of this strange dimension. It had stolen his breath when he first laid his eyes upon it. 

I remember the Grim, or I would not know what it looks like. But what happened afterwards? Sonic ponders. He had done his best not to think about it, his mind buzzing to return to the action and, simultaneously, please Nine. But without the genius with him, his mind is free to think. Even when Nine was asleep, Sonic lay open-eyed at night, unable to sleep with the icy feeling of wrongness keeping him awake. 

Nine and I argued. I remember that. I disagreed with what Nine was planning for the Grim. But what was their plan? It could not have been that bad if Nine had proposed it.

Sonic sighs deeply, trying to find anything that could help him. But there is nothing but dunes in front of him. The bad weather does not help orient himself. 

Although with everything coming to light, I cannot trust in Nine's word. Whatever happened when Nine took the Prism could not have been good. I don't know what made Nine off to run away and take me with them - but I cannot get to the bottom of it now. I can only hope that it does not end up as dire as I fear it to. They are not Tails. Nine has made that clear a thousand times. What a shame it took me a thousand and one time to let that fully sink in. 

The sandstorm clears up a little bit, allowing Sonic to see more of this desolate world. The Grim spreads before him in all its empty glory. Just as in his memory, the sands are like wine on the dark red side. Sonic strides forward, resting his weight on the sand. It is strangely solid. But it is still sand, which gives away when Sonic digs his heel into it. But it should be sturdy enough to run on, as long as he does not trip. However, he prefers it to pavement. He has gotten some ugly bruising and scrapes from skidding across cement at top speed. He should be able to run at full speed here.

Sonic looks up at the sky.

"Wow," Sonic utters, unable to stop the awed sound from leaving his mouth. He stumbles forward to admire it more openly. The sky is a sea-deep green, darker than the emerald sheen he recalls. But it is undoubtedly mesmerising. A whole galaxy spans above him, unmeasurable stars glittering before his eyes - meadow green reflecting the dancing hues of jade and malachite. It is magnificent how Sonic catches something like a river stream across the sky, with flashes of purple and even bits of orange twisted in between. It is so alien compared to the indigo night sky of his homeworld, but it sends a pang of longing through him anyway.

Sonic clenches his fists, filled with determination. He must return back to Shadow and fix things. It is his fault everything became like this. He must fix it. When he gets back, he will give Tails a big bone-crushing hug and listen. It is the least his little buddy deserves after everything.

Sonic glances around, finally doing what he told Shadow. He had already spent too much time in that horrible bunker. Said bunker is buried under the sand. Only the gutted lift hatch marks where it lies. The underground contraption is buried deep underground; it would take years to dig it all up. For a moment, Sonic ponders how someone would get inside the bunker under typical means until he abandons the train of thought. That will be a thought experiment for later. As Shadow said - he needs to leave. 

But Nine's Tempest is nowhere to be seen. Sonic expected it to be closer so Nine could take off whenever they wanted. Although if the Grim suffers from frequent sandstorms, it would make sense to keep it inside until needed. But there is a charging station outside. Sonic walks towards it, brushing it with the tip of his shoe. Surprisingly, the bench to set up the computer console and heavy battery are empty except for a snow worth of sand. Or how Nine's spaceship would be if it were left outside.

"Or sanded -in, ha!" He snickers, laughing at his own joke.

"Sonic." Shadow warns him - sounding like a ticking time bomb. 

"Oh shut it, allow me a little fun, grumpypants." Sonic carries on, ignoring Shadow's choice words. He stands between the charging poles for clues about where the Tempest could have gone. He shifts on his feet, uneasy. The sand feels different here. Sonic looks down, digging into the sand with his shoes. He will never get the red stains out of his gloves if he does it with his hands, and well, he is quicker with his feet anyway.

He must not dig deep—the metal door peeks under the sand. Sonic frowns, his nose crunching with bemusement. He thinks back to the layout of the bunker and recalls the giant hanger. You had to walk many stairs down to get to the bottom of it, where all the tools and robots lay. But Sonic would have remembered if he saw the Tempest or a metal hatch on the ceiling. 

There were more rooms Nine kept hidden from me. I should not be surprised anymore, but it still stings. He thinks.

Sonic soughs, surveying his surroundings again. There is little here. It is an empty wasteland with nothing interesting for miles aside from the emerald structures jutting out from the bedrock. There are craters in the distance, but Sonic is not up to playing explorer. Knowing this world's history will not help him right now. 

Well, if there is nothing else here. Then, I can only rely on my speed to get me to places. Sonic concludes, stretching before he attempts for a good run. He can fight and run whenever he wants to without stress or hurting himself, but only because he exercises daily and stretches. He neglected his health down in that bunker, and he can feel it now. His joints hurt! Though that might also be from his nasty fall. Who is to say? 

In fact, he feels like he has been inactive for a long time. The thought sends chills up his spine, strengthened by the cold desert air. He was so used to the perfect temperature inside the bunker, never bordering on too hot or cold, that the night air is foreign to him. But after a couple of stretches and circular jogs, Sonic dashes far away from the bunker - ready to leave all of it behind. It feels great to be able to run at his top speed again. As if released from a cage, running to his heart's content. He digs in his heels a little harsher than usual, desperate to escape the confusion and negative emotions still storming in his mind. 

"Run faster, whatever you do - do not stop! Run!" Shadow shouts from Sonic's com. Sonic looks to his right to answer, only to be surprised by the ghostly visage of his longtime rival. It nearly scares him out of his sprint, but he keeps running, not slowing down. He remembers this. It was the only way to go between worlds without the shards. He is sure Shadow explained it to him when they met each other for the first time in this bizarre situation. He cannot recall it exactly, but the memories are there. If he pushes hard enough, he will remember everything in time. He needs to run fast enough to return to the Void and be safe again. 

That sounds easy. Let's rock and roll. Sonic internally muses, feeling better already. 

"Alright, Shadow. See you on the other side." He smirks and gives Shadow a thumbs up. He runs beside him, looking so unimpressed by Sonic. But Sonic can also find relief in his eyes, even if static and streaks of neon colour envelop Shadow. 

"You better get here fast." He says voice clipped.

"Fastest thing alive, baby." Sonic winks. Shadow rolls his eyes. 

"Hardly."

"Haha, hahaha!" Sonic giggles, laughter spilling from his maw. He feels alive! 

For a moment, Sonic looks down at his shoes, noticing the light growing brighter. Huh, I must be nearing the prism. He looks up, not seeing anything. It seems Nine has hidden them far away from the bunker. Curious. I wonder why. Sonic ponders hard, not paying attention to himself or his surroundings. He falls, stumbling and rolling in the sand. Shadow disappears from his side, and the momentum flings him further up ahead, the lustre of his shoes glowing brighter.

Sonic groans, bemoaning the sand that got under his quills. He shakes his pelt, trying to quickly get back up and back to running. In the back of his mind, he can hear Shadow's voice screaming from his communicator. But his voice goes in and out the other - focused on what made him trip. 

He gasps. His feet and hands are tied together by the tech attached to his gloves and shoes. Every time he tries to pull them apart, they snap back together - immobilising him. They are like magnets, drawn to each other. But much stronger than the silly fridge magnets Sonic and Tails keep on their fridge. Sonic cannot stand upright without having his wrists bound together or toppling over by the electrical current keeping his feet together. Sonic growls, looking around to see how this even happened. Did his tech fritz? It has never done that before. He gets back up upright and falls, eating sand - again. 

He groans into the sand, spitting it back out when he comes up to breathe. He is sick and tired of this. Sonic scrambles upright, getting to work to disengage the tech. But his gadgets are too nimble for a guy like him. Sonic has never been for delicate work, never had the patience for it like Tails or Amy did. Even as he carefully manoeuvres his fingers so he can reach the latch, it is protected by tiny itty bitty screws. It is impossible to open up without destroying the whole thing. 

"What the hell, Sonic! Why did you stop?!" Shadow screams, very coherent after his bout of colourful language. Sonic feels grateful nobody is around to hear Shadow. He would hate for Cream to listen to this kind of language. Although knowing Shadow, he would never swear in front of her. Around other kids, however. Sonic is sure Shadow has cursed around Tails even though he has no proof of it happening.

"I don't know! My tech suddenly started acting up! I can't get them to stop attaching to each other." 

"What are you going on about?" 

"Feet, hand - stuck together - tech malfunction. Do you understand that better?" Sonic explains curtly, speaking in short intervals. His patience ran very short, very quickly. 

"You sound more coherent than usual, so yes." 

"Urgh, I can't with this guy!" Sonic tries to throw up his hands until he remembers his current predicament. He grumbles. 

"Wait, your tech? The tools Nine made you?" Shadow asks gingerly, realising what Sonic said.

"Stupid fat fingers! Arghh!!!!" Sonic screams, giving up on removing the screws with his fingernail. He does not hear Shadow, too busy trying to get free.

Shadow is ominously silent. He breathes in through gritted teeth. 

"That's… not good."

"I wouldn't say that." A different voice answers Shadow in Sonic's stead. Sonic snaps his head towards the newcomer. Nine sits casually upon a cruiser. He must not have heard it above his own frustration. 

"Nine…" Sonic greets, not sure what to say. 

"Me." Nine naturally answer, pointing at themself with gritted teeth. Their mechanical tails carry them up to the nose of the sand mobile, sitting on top of it high and mighty. They look down at him, judgemental. Although not furious, despite what Sonic expected. But Sonic does not care for that, struggling for the tech to unhook even though his efforts are useless. 

"Argh! Let me go! This isn't funny!" Sonic demands, rolling around to get it to unstick. The sand gets up all his fur into places he would prefer sand never be. But he does not care, desperate to get away. He wants to be anywhere but here. Preferably, dimensions away, even if it means leaving behind the Paradox Crystal in Nine's hands. He and Shadow can come up with a plan later. Sonic cannot bear to be near Nine right now. 

Nine cocks their head.

"I wasn't trying to be. You will find my humour lacking with your newest escape attempt." They lean over, cradling their head on their hand. Nine's eyes glance at Sonic's wrist - his communicator buzzing. They pull out a tablet with their other hand, typing something into a program.

“Bye bye, eavdropper. Don't contact us again." Nine sneers.

"Eaves- Wait, Sonic- N-!" Shadow tries to shout, but his message is lost as the connection shuts off. The low drone of Sonic's communicator ceases. Sonic glances over to it, confirming his supinoun as a dark screen stares back at him. Shadow is gone. 

Nine sighs, messaging their face. They look exhausted. 

"I was wondering when you would try and make a run for it again. I did not expect you to play along for this long nor for you to contact Shadow, of all people. Chaos knows why. I thought you hated him." They chuckle humourlessly, their eyes suspicious. It is as if Sonic lied to them or something about his relationship with Shadow. Although Sonic is sure, he never talked about Shadow to Nine. The brooding hedgehog is not really someone who gets brought up in conversation often, not by Sonic at least and not under the tight circumstances he has found himself in lately. 

Nine shrugs. 

"I suppose even with short-term memory loss, you do learn. How fascinating." They say, sounding so aloof it is maddening, "I will have to add it to my notes." Despite their statement, they do nothing to note down the information they so covet. They stare at Sonic whilst kicking their feet. Nine's hand hides their mouth, but from what little Sonic can see between their fingers - a snarl hides behind it. He knows from Tails what the wrinkles of one look like. Nine hides it well, but they are pissed off. 

Sonic halts in his struggles - realising it is useless. Perhaps he can still find out why Nine is doing this and plead for reason. Nine is smart. Surely they can see how bad this is?

"Why? What is going on? Is this your doing?! People are going to get hurt if you don't release-" Sonic implores. But Nine does not let him continue. 

"Why? Why ?!" Nine cries, eyes receding into pinpricks. They swipe at the air, enraged. But they quickly calm down, for they look anguished instead, as if they are the ones held hostage rather than Sonic and suffering. 

"Oh, of course, you would not remember. I keep forgetting about that. Maybe I'm the one with amnesia here, haha." Nine giggles, sitting back down on their throne of metal and bioware, a hand slicking back their bangs. They stick to their head with the stickiness of motor oil. 

"I don't feel like explaining it again. You understand, right? I sound like a broken record at this point." They yawn as if this is just a regular occurrence to them. And it is - but it boggles Sonic's mind. How can they be so nonchalant about this? His perception of the past days is shattered, and they do not even care! And why would Nine, when they have been doing this over and over again? The actualisation drives an ice-cold spike into Sonic's heart. How long have they been here for Nine to have grown so numb? 

Amnesia, really? Oh. Sonic wonders if he should believe Nine; they have proven themself untrustworthy with all of their lies. But every piece of evidence points towards it: the bunker, the signs of wear and tear and most importantly, himself. The lethargy was not him being stressed; it was from oversleeping in a cycle of broken healing. 

It is a difficult pill to swallow. But Nine has no patience for it, scoffing. Sonic glares at them. If they are correct, then their reaction makes sense. But still, that does not stop Sonic from being angry. He is a happy-go-lucky dude, but everyone has their limits.

"You ba-  Ah!" Sonic cries, writhing on the ground. A sudden numbness overtakes him, shooting from his hand up through his body. It is an icy feeling, seeping into his veins and paralysing him. He falls to the sand, stretching his neck to see what happened. The metal compartment built into his gloves shot out a needle as tiny and slim as a bee stinger. It retreats back into the device. The tech applies pressure to steep the bleeding. It is oddly caring, and it just makes Sonic sicker. 

It steals his voice, slurring around what he wants to say.

Nine jumps down from the sandmobile and saunters to Sonic, crouching beside him. Sonic can barely keep his eyes open, but dread pools in his stomach as Nine smiles at him - lacking any sign of kindness. 

"Oh, don't you worry, Sonic. Everything will be alright. I'm here." Nine croons, placing a hand on Sonic's forehead. Sonic is too lethargic to raise his quils and slumps fully on the ground, eyes falling shut.

"Mark my words. I will make a new and better world, a fresh, clean slate that fits all our desires. Even if it takes me a century or more - I will succeed and make paradise. Nothing will stand in my way. Not the Choas Council, not those 'friends' of yours, not Shadow and especially not - Your. Selfish. Plans." Nine whispers so tenderly, as if it is a secret. They gently comb back Sonic's messy spines, humming an unfamiliar tune into the desert air. 

"So go to sleep, and when you wake up, we will do this over and over again until we do this right." Nine's voice filters through, just barely, yet Sonic understands every single word. He is filled with astronomical dread. 

"Sweet dreams, buddy - may they be filled with sunny skies and palm trees."

And Sonic drifts off to a very grim dream.

Chapter Text

The bunker is bigger than Sonic expected. Nine explained as they went through all the rooms that they found it after they came here the first time. It had been unusable then, flooded with gore and sickness. Nine had no trouble rattling off the details as Sonic stared at them, horrified. It was inhabitable, and from Nine's disgusted face, the people who used it met an untimely demise.

It had taken Nine weeks to clean it out and much longer to set up shop, building impressive machines to do the heavy load for them. Though it had taken longer to build upgrades for finer cleaner, Nine made it work. Sonic awed and ohed as Nine showed him the hanger filled with worker bots. They do not have the polish Dr. Eggman or the Choas Council's tech own. But from what Nine lacks in aesthetics, they make up in practicality.

Still, Nine warned him not to go into rooms that reeked of death. As thorough as Nine is, in their words, it is an enormous place and getting everything clean is statistically impossible. Not that Sonic doubts them. He would rather avoid discovering any grimy spot Nine's tech forgot to clean. 

Sonic refrained from asking how long everything took exactly - trusting Nine's vague time assessments. Even without mentioning it, Sonic knew it was a sensitive topic. Only a few hours passed for Sonic in Jungle World, but for the people in New Yoke, months went by. He cannot imagine how Nine felt, thinking Sonic abandoned them. It breaks his heart. 

Still, despite the bunker's impressive size, Sonic does not feel as excited as Nine when they showed him everything. Sonic did his best to listen and give input when necessary, but he often drifted off and swayed on his feet. Nine told him to rest and take it easy. Sonic followed their advice, knowing how much of a hypocrite he would be if he did not follow his own advice when he has told Tails and his friends so many times to relax.

But a rest day becomes two, three, four; by now, Sonic has lost fingers to count how many days he has been since he woke up in the bunker. His memories fade in and out; he is sure that whatever happened to him is affecting his brain. However, he has no idea how to bring it up. Usually, he pushes his problems deep down, hoping they will miraculously vanish. Or one of his friends points it out and forces him to confront it. But Nine does not mention how Sonic wobbles on his feet or how tired he is. So, he concludes it must not be that serious. If someone like Nine does not notice how odd he is acting, then it must be just him imagining things. 

Still, the days in the Grim go by slowly. There is nothing to do. Even as Sonic slowly gets better, feeling less sluggish as his energy returns to him, nothing about their routine changes. They wake up, and Sonic fumbles, trying to ask to leave and yet accommodate Nine's needs. They go around the bunker repairing stuff. Or Nine does the maintenance as Sonic dies of boredom, and they go back to sleep. Every day in and out. Same tasteless food, stainless floors, and steel walls staring back at him, keeping him away from the beautiful wind and adventure harkening to his name. 

Sonic is fed up with this routine.

"Are you alright, Sonic?" 

Sonic's ear twitches, folding back to hear Nine's voice better. He turns towards them, schooling his expression before Nine can see his grimace. He feels so fake for smiling. But if he let his true colours show, Nine would get irritated. Sonic is unsure why he feels that way, but his spines raise at the possibility. He needs to keep his cards close to his chest, even if he feels like a liar for doing so. 

But he sighs - it would be better, to be honest. That is what led him to break down Nine's impenetrable walls before. It may work again.

"No, buddy. Now that you mention it, I've been feeling pretty awful." Sonic examines Nine and what they are doing. He expects them to keep working on the robot they have been tinkering with for days. They did say it only needed a few finishing touches. But Nine is not working anymore. They are staring down at Sonic on top of the mech. Almost menacing with how they block out the fluorescent light of the LED lamps. It sends a shiver down Sonic's spine. Their spider tails twirl behind their head ominously. 

"Hmm." Nine hums. They hop down from the robot, sliding down its steely exterior and landing gracefully on the floor. They are no less intimidating, as Nine does not need the height with their ferocious glare to come across as threatening.

 When did Nine become so scary? I'm not intimidated, but I don't appreciate feeling this on edge. Sonic muses, refusing to acknowledge the trickle of fear thrumming in his veins.

"Say, when are we going to the surface? You've been doing so much maintenance. We have to be getting to the end of the workload." Sonic asks, avoiding eye contact as Nine's intense eyes bores into his. He walks about, anything to keep himself busy, stretching his legs into exaggerated movements, loosening his arms and rolling his shoulders. He feels stiff - even if he is not running, he should be doing pilates or yoga to keep himself nimble. He has a crick in his neck! It is a shame it is impossible to relax in such an environment, even as Sonic ignores how unnerved he is. 

"I am  doing the one doing the work. And hmm," Nine corrects harshly, but they calm down quickly, glancing at their project. Nine nods, "I guess I made good progress this week."

 It has been only a week? I could have sworn more days than the regular seven have gone by. Is Nine's definition of a week different from mine? Should I even ask, or would that be stupid? 

Nonetheless, the prospect of getting out of here has Sonic giddy - turning back around with stars in his eyes.

"So, does that mean we go can up there? I've been dying to stretch my legs," He says, stretching his aforementioned legs in the classic runner's pose, whizzing past the hanger's pillars and even skipping to show how excited he is. It is everything he has been waiting for since he woke up in this dreary place. 

"You can stretch your legs here. There is enough space." As you just did, goes unsaid as Nine looks pointedly at Sonic's shoes. The white hexagonal design is free of blemishes or filth, unlike the other powered-up versions of his sneaker that got dirty the first five minutes of getting to a new paradoxical world. 

"Yeah, sure…" Sonic rolls his eyes, crossing his arms grumpily. 

The bunker is big; Sonic has run around this place enough times to cement this fact. But it is a cluttered space. For someone as meticulous as Nine, they do not seem to enjoy cleaning up much. Or that is how they concentrate, having everything where it belongs even if it looks like the opposite of organised. But that does not help Sonic. The bots only clean up dust and stains. They do not organise and store objects. And when Sonic tries to clean up after Nine so as not to feel useless - Nine snaps at him. 

Although bringing that up right now seems like a bad idea. 

"It's not only about running, though. We need some fresh air! Staying inside can not be good for both of us, bud. So, let's go up, up,  up  and catch some vitamin D. I know you need some." Sonic hand signs all his words, hoping his enthusiasm and energetic body language will entice Nine to accept his offer. Opening his arms wide at 'air' and maiming catching a fish and reeling it in with 'catch'.

But Nine does not budge - narrowing their eyes. As unamused as a pear.

Sonic comically copies their deep frown—still, nothing. The fox is an emotionless wall. Nothing escapes them. 

"You look a ghost." Sonic whines - dramatically falling behind before catching himself and speeding past Nine - tapping on their shoulder.

"Boo!" He tries to scare Nine, snickering as he truly falls, this time to the floor - letting his spine cushion his fall. He expects accompanying laughter, for a soft, if youthful voice to call him a dork and help him back up. But as Sonic opens his eyes, it is Nine who is staring down at him. Pale blue irises that are too stark against the darkness beneath their eyes.

"Why do you want to go to the surface so much?" Nine asks, their voice so faint Sonic almost does not hear it. Sonic blinks. It is the first time he has seen Nine look sad - or what is sad for Nine, at least. Their ears do not droop like Tails, nor do their tails fall limp to the floor in defeat.

Nine does neither of those things. But their eyes are downcast, and they clench their jaw in frustration. But it is the soft tone of their voice that gives them away. Because Sonic knows what frustration for Nine looks like, this is not it.

"Heh?" Sonic makes a confused sound.

Nine takes a deep breath, staring at the ceiling in what feels short of rolling their eyes. 

"You've been clamouring to go up every single day. Why do you need to leave so badly?!" They bite out, annoyed. The fur of their fleshy tails raises like it has been hit with electricity. Sonic climbs upright, lifting a brow. I was right. That was not frustration. This is. He notes.

"...Nine, I never said anything about leaving? Are you alright? You might have overworked yourself, buddy." He cautiously treads, chuckling to relieve the uneasy tension in the hanger. It feels like the room has been sucked out of oxygen; Sonic can feel it weighing on him. 

"I'm fine." Nine murmurs. Sonic has a feeling that it was not meant for him. It sounds like a reassurance to themself as if they need to convince themself of being alright. Nine glances back at Sonic - appraising him. As if he had done something in that short time, Nine was not looking at him.

They sigh - closing their eyes. Nine looks tired.

"Not yet. I still need to do the last checkups before I can take a rest day." They pause, mulling over their words. Nine turns their entire body towards Sonic, their body language more open than before. "You understand, don't you, Sonic?" They smile, holding their arms behind their back. It is a better smile than a week ago. But there are still too many teeth with a look that looks too sardonic to be genuine. It feels practised and less reassuring than it is meant to be. 

Sonic bobs his head. It is more than a habit - not meant to be a nonverbal agreement. But he is not going to say otherwise. 

"Okay, but I don't understand why I can't go up there-" 

"We are going to study the emerald structures together! Isn't that what we decided on? Don't you want to do that anymore?" Nine interrupts, staring up with their big blue eyes. Sonic just noticed it, but Nine lowered themself, not standing high and mighty above them with their bio-mechanical tails. They arched their back to appear even smaller than they were to Sonic - their gestures more akin to their age than the teenage bravo he had come to expect from them.

Granted, Nine is taller than his Tails. But the action is superficial. Sonic taps his finger against the inside of his elbow.

"...no, Nine, I love to study those emeralds with you." Sonic grits between clenched teeth, "Just a few more checks, yeah?" 

"I promise." Nine reassures - smiling thinly behind shadowed eyes.

"Cool beans." Sonic grins, giving a thumbs up. It does not reach his eyes. The duo are mirrors, reflecting each other. Disingenuous to the very last drop of blood in their system. 

"I'm going to the restroom," Sonic announces, turning away from the conversation in a bored tone. His posture is lax, not waiting for Nine to respond. 

"Okay, you know where it is." Nine does anyway, staring hard into Sonic's back. Sonic does not turn around to confirm it. He can feel it. 

"Of course I do. I have a fantastic sense of direction." He says, the humour plain in his voice. 

"I know." Nine laughs. Sonic's smile strains. 

Sonic walks away, hands behind his head as he whistles a tune. It bounces off the hangar walls, echoing through every little corner and carrying far down the corridors of the bunker. Sonic rounds the corner, truly alone. He frowns. Nine lied to him - straight to his face! He almost did not catch it but recognises Tail's telltales everywhere. The twitching of their right ear just as they stared deeply into Sonic's eyes, trying to convince him their every word was the truth. It makes Sonic queasy. How had he not noticed it before?

Sonic was so busy trying not to compare Nine to Tails that he ignored all the signs of something being wrong. He feels so stupid! Sonic balls his fists, swallowing the frustrated scream building up his throat. He had a hunch he was being lied to. His gut is never wrong, but from his little buddy? It makes him madder than anything before. Although, he sighs, his raised spines wilting like flowers. It is his fault for not noticing it sooner. 

 But this is Nine we're talking about. A part of Tails - or whatever these Paradox counterparts are! There is no way they would deceive me. Not maliciously, anyway. Sonic tries to rationalise. Nine had to have had a good reason to lie. They have to! No version of Nine could be evil, and even so - Sonic would have noticed it right away if there was a cruel bone in Nine's body. Sure, they have admitted to hurting others before, and their apathy to other living things does not help. But Nine is a good person! They may be a sombre and angst teen, but they are still an alternative version of Tails. Sonic cannot imagine Tails being crooked.

So, maybe it was a white lie for a way to spend time together. Nine is not the most socially intelligent, despite their obvious intellect. Perhaps this is their way of wanting to be close to someone? 

 If only a week has passed. Maybe it really was just maintenance. I can see why Nine has stretched out the time for so long. Machinery is delicate. You can never be too careful with it. However, their subtle insistence on not going to the surface alone is still suspicious. Sonic muses.

Sonic thinks back to the tour and the one hallway they did not explore - remembering its circular design and how different it was from the high-ceiling rooms the rest of the bunker possesses. Nine had not even given that place a cursory glance. Sonic brought it up, noting how odd it was as Nine had something to say about every room and hallway. Its design was way more interesting than anything else in the bunker - to Sonic. It is smaller than the other hallways, circular and looks like a room built into a spaceship. 

Nine had walked ahead, waving off Sonic's question. Only through prodding did the fox answer. They mentioned it being of the rooms and halls they could not clean as it was too small for the bots to get to and that they would not touch it with their own hands. Too much death, they had remarked. Even though they had no trouble describing the gruesomeness of the other messes, they cleaned up.

If there is nothing there, it should be okay if I go there. It is not like Nine forbid me from going there. If I'm right, I know where it leads -

"Where are you going?" 

Sonic jumps, looking behind him. His quils raise, and he falls into a stance to spindash. Heart leaping in his throat.

It is Nine. It could not be anyone else - there is no living soul in here besides them. Still, Sonic does not relax, his previous thoughts invading his mind. Is he really safe? He does not feel like it.

He forcibly relaxes his quills when Nine raises a brow, their eyes on the many little spines people usually don't see because they usually lay flat next to the bigger quills. Perhaps it is the first Nine sees them. Sonic does not get scared often. Still, he does not like it.

"Gah! Little buddy, you scared me. I think I'm going to have a heart attack if you do that again." Sonic says with an anxious chuckle, waving his hand in an 'oh you' sort of way,

Nine's eyes bores into him - staring him down. Sonic blinks, realising they come to the same height. He glances down, allowing his concentration to falter. Nine's metallic legs have raised them from the ground, slowly making their user taller and taller until Nine is completely hovering over him. Just like they did with the robot in the hangar, making themself bigger than Sonic and more intimidating.

Nine catches his look and looks down as well. They hiss and quickly come back down as if to rectify a mistake. 

 Maybe they never noticed that they were doing that. Either way, I don't care. I'm fed up with this. 

Even Nine's question feels like a formality. It is hard to tell; even with the days spent together, Sonic still needs to guess Nine's true thoughts. From their tone alone, they find nothing and even their body language is neutral as they walk up to the wall. Nine opens the panel and, with their multitool, starts tinkering with the wires and zappy buttons behind the safety metal. 

But, Sonic's eyes dart to Nine's tails. They are fanned around Nine, helping them repeatedly with their task. But their two blonde tails lay limply in the gentle cradle metal. The support tail curls around it protectively - keeping it far from danger.

Nine is agitated. Sonic knows that for sure. 

"Going to do the bathroom. Didn't I say that already?" Sonic answers, folding his arms. He cannot help but respond in kind. Walking on eggshells for an entire week tired him out. He is done with this attitude of Nine, especially after lying to him. 

It is one thing to fib or lie over something inconsequential, like taking the last doughnut or about a house chore. But about something like Sonic's freedom? Sonic does not know what Nine is keeping secret, but if it has something to do with the surface of the Grim or the Shatterverse, Sonic cannot forgive them as much as he wants to cajole them and treat them like Tails. If Nine stands in his way to save the universe and the mess he made, he will have to fight them as much as it pains him.

Nine comes down from their spider hunch, their biomechanical tails gently placing them back on the ground. They turn around, seemingly disinterested and awkwardly scuffing their shoes on the floor. Sonic is caught between finding it funny and being extremely annoyed. 

"Hmm, sure." They murmur, so nonchalant. Sonic forces away the urge to make a jab. Nine is not his enemy, he reminds himself. This still could be a misunderstanding. 

Nine glances at Sonic, eyes narrowed.

"You know what you're doing?" They ask as if peering into Sonic's soul with such a simple question. It sounds less like a question and more of a statement. 

"Always." That's a lie, but Nine does not need to know how impulsive Sonic can be. If Nine is going to be dishonest, then Sonic is too. It is childish, perhaps, but Sonic feels he must - even if his gut churns with it. Something just is not right, and he has to get to the bottom of this—solo style. 

"Just checking." Nine waves their hand, walking away into a side corridor. It is the kitchen if Sonic recalls correctly. They are probably hungry from making their brain work so much all morning. 

"Don't let me keep you waiting. I am not inclined to clean up your messes!" They shout, their voice disappearing around the corridor. 

"Puh-lease, Nine. I would be embarrassed from here to Angel Island if you needed to clean up after me for anything. I am a responsible man." Sonic quickly responds, laughing loudly so Nine can hear him in these echoing halls.

Nine does not respond. The silence is poignant - filling with dread. Sonic drops the happy facade, grimacing deeply as he walks towards his destination. 

 So, what is on the surface? He asks himself, walking into the forbidden corridor Nine warned him about. 

 What is on the surface, indeed? The voice in his head replies, as curious as a viper - urging him to take action. He nods, mind made up.

Sonic enters the circular door, not looking back. The day's content flashes by him as he treks into it - careful not to make too much sound. Sonic can be silent when he wants to be, but foxes hearing are sensitive. He does not want Nine to know what he is up to. He is unwilling to break the lonely inventor's trust - even if Nine broke it first. 

Looking back on it now, he should have seen the oddness before now. In the last few days, Nine has been tight-lipped about their inventions. They only kept prattling on about how amazing the bunker was and how efficient the worker bots were. Anything else coming from Nine was curt or ignored. Sonic had chalked it up to irritation and lousy sleep. But Sonic knows that Nine has been sleeping better as they wake up together every morning. Sonic insisted on sleeping elsewhere, wanting to give the teenager space and privacy. It is not like Sonic is in critical modus anymore, so it should have been fine.

But Nine had been adamant about them staying in the same room and sharing supplies. He found it cute at first and missing Tails, he let it be. Now, the thought sends a chill up his spine. He does not like it, even if he cannot put his finger on why. But Nine's behaviour has been off. He can no longer stay ignorant of it.

It is creepy. Sonic never considered it until now. From Tails, it would be endearing. But Nine is not Tails. They are a stranger with a familiar face and a familiar story. But they are not his baby siblings or the person he grew up with and half-raised. 

It ruffles Sonic's fur and spines all the wrong ways. He looks ahead, focusing on his surroundings instead. He can think about this all later. Or better yet, run until his thoughts are drowned and forgotten,

The corridor is longer than Sonic thought, cleaner too. He wonders if Nine lied about this as well. But, a few meters in, the floor becomes dusty - filthy. Heh, I guess they were not lying after all. About this, at least. Although, it's less filthy than I expected. Sonic thinks.

There are no other doors or rooms nor the stench of death - contradicting what Nine said. But further up ahead, there are marks on the wall. Sonic blinks and inches closer to study the strange marks. They are brown, though light enough not to let the scent of what got stuck on the walls linger. No, Sonic only smells antiseptic and the stuffy air the bunker holds. Whoever tried to scrub away these stains could not get all the stains out. Sonic thinks it is stubborn dirt at first, having seen how dark earth can get - specifically fertile soil. It is excellent for growing gardens and, more importantly, food! Sonic grows the most perfect chillies, if he must say so himself. It is one of the relaxing hobbies Amy introduced him to, and although his green thumb is less stellar than hers, gardening keeps him busy for a little while when the house is too quiet. 

But Sonic remembers the Grim's sand being a crimson-deep red. It was such an odd colour, yet beautiful against the emerald sky. It had stolen his breath away. 

Wait, I remember the Grim, or I would not know what it looks like. But what happened afterwards? Sonic wonders. He had done his best not to think about it, his mind buzzing to return to the action while pleasing Nine. But without the genius with him, his mind is free to think. Even when Nine was asleep, Sonic lay awake at night, unable to sleep with the icy feeling of wrongness. He dared not to dwell on the past.

His feet lead him further in, each step remembering a little more. 

We fought. I remember that. I disagreed with what Nine was planning for the Grim. But what was their plan? It could not have been that bad if Nine had proposed it. Although with how Nine has been acting, Sonic wonders if he should trust in Nine's virtue unquestioningly.

They are not Tails. You cannot tell them if you cannot trust them. Give respect to gain respect and all that jazz. Sonic was blinded by the sibling he saw in Nine. 

Sonic lifts his gaze, eyes widening as he spots a door. He races towards it, awing at the circular shape. It reminds him of a bottle cap. Does that mean I'm inside a bottle? Could a giant come by and twist it open like a cold one? That would be funny. Sonic muses, allowing himself a little chuckle in this tense moment. He looks around for a control panel, curious about where this leads. Despite what people might think, Sonic is not inept with computers. He just seems that way because Tails is such a technical genius. Everyone looks like a Luddite next to the golden child prodigy. And with how militaristic everything is, things like control panels are obvious and labelled. Sonic cannot read the tiny letters, but the big red button must be the opening hatch. 

He hovers over it to press it. But he hesitates, noting the wear and tear on it. He surveys the control panel again and spots a key slot and a pictogram of turning it clockwise. Only the key is gone.

Sonic clicks his tongue. He has a good idea of who would have that key. He looks behind him, considering going back to searching for the key. From the hole size, it must be small, and knowing Nine, no doubt they would keep it on their person. They are paranoid like that. 

He taps the metallic surface of the panel, irritated. Sonic glances down at his shoes, watching the hexagonal patterns stream soft light against the strange matching flooring. He snaps his fingers, grinning with an electrifying idea. Sonic jogs into place, buzzing as he arches all his spines and rubs his arms. Static electricity pours out of him, and he touches the panel again. The charge is not enough to unlock the door, but the power from the paradox phenomenon fries the circuits, making them unable to process the foreign energy. 

After all,  Sonic muses smugly as the door opens with a hiss of pressurised air -  all emergency exits need to be able to be opened in case of system failure. Tails taught me that one. 

Sonic does not wait for the door to completely slide off to the side, running into the desert air with a sense of newly acquired freedom. It tastes dry and full of sand, ironically enough. But Sonic would take that above getting stuck inside again.

The Grim spreads before him in all its contrasting glory. Just as in his memory, the sands are like wine on the dark red side. Sonic steps into it, testing his weight on it. It is strangely solid. But it is still sand, which gives away when he digs his heel into it. But it should be sturdy enough to run on, as long as he does not trip or make too sudden turns. However, he prefers it to pavement. He has gotten some ugly bruising and scrapes from skidding across asphalt at top speed. 

He looks up at the sky.

"Wow." He utters, unable to stop the awed sound from leaving him. He ambles forward to admire it openly, striding from under the little roof of the bunker's entrance. The sky is a sea-deep green, darker than the emerald sheen he remembers. But it is undoubtedly mesmerising. A whole galaxy spans above him, unmeasurable stars glittering before his eyes - green reflecting green. It is magnificent. It is like a river stream spanning over the sky, with flashes of purple and even bits of orange. It is so alien compared to the indigo night sky of his home, but it sends a pang of longing through him anyway.

Sonic clenches his fists, filled with determination. He must return to the adventure and correct things. It is his fault everything became like this. He must fix it. When he gets back, he will give Tails a big bone-crushing hug. It is the least his little buddy deserves after everything.

Sonic looks around, not planning to dwindle around. He had already spent too much time in that horrible bunker. Said bunker is buried by the sand. Only the entrance peeks out from under a wooden roof. The tarp attached to the sides was fixed there to keep as much sand away from the electrical door during a sandstorm as possible. Sand tends to clog machinery really badly. But Nine's Tempest is nowhere to be seen. Sonic expected it to be nearby so Nine could take off whenever they wanted. Although if the Grim suffers from frequent sandstorms, it would make sense to keep it inside until needed. 

But there is a charging station outside. Sonic walks towards it, touching it with his toe as he curiously pokes around. Surprisingly, all the tech is clean, like a bench to set up a computer console and batteries. Some sand particles are on there, but it is less snowed in than the bunker.

"Or sanded-in, ha!" He snickers, laughing at his own joke. Sonic shakes his head. It is not the time for jokes, even if he yearns for their simplicity. He feels on edge. 

Sonic stands in between the charging poles for clues about where the Tempest could have gone. He shifts on his feet, uneasy. The sand feels different here. Sonic looks down, digging into the sand with his shoes. He will never get the red stains out of his gloves if he does it with his gloves, and well, he is quicker on his feet anyway. He must not dig deep—the metal door peeks from under the sand. Sonic frowns, his nose crunching with bemusement. He thinks back to the layout of the bunker and recalls the giant hanger. You had to walk many stairs down to get to the bottom of it, where all the tools and robots lay. But Sonic would have remembered if he saw the Tempest or a metal hatch on the ceiling. 

There were more rooms Nine kept hidden from me. I should not be surprised anymore, but it still stings. Sonic sighs, surveying his surroundings again. There is nothing much here. It is an empty wasteland with nothing interesting for miles aside from the emerald structures jutting out from the bedrock. There are craters in the distance, but Sonic is not up to playing explorer. Knowing this world's history will not help him right now. 

Well, if there is nothing else. Then, I can only rely on my speed to get me to places. Sonic concludes, stretching to get into a running position. He can fight and run whenever he wants to without stress or hurting himself, but only because he exercises daily and stretches. He neglected his health down in that bunker. In fact, he feels like he has been inactive for a long time. It is worrying, to say the least, for he has only been inactive for a week. But after a couple of stretches and circular jogs, Sonic sprints far away from the bunker - ready to leave all of it behind. 

It feels great to be able to run at his top speed finally. Like being released from a cage, running to his heart's content. He digs in his heels a little harsher than usual, desperate to escape the confusion and bad feelings he had a week ago. 

"Sonic! Run faster. Whatever you do - do not stop! Run! " A strangely familiar voice chimes in his ear. Sonic looks to his right, surprised to see the ghostly visage of his longtime rival. It nearly shocks him out of his sprint, but he keeps on pushing forward, agreeing with Shadow for once.

He feels a strange sort of Deja vu course through him. Something tells him not to question it, almost relieved to see someone recognise him as Sonic after so much time introducing himself to people repeatedly and being the very reason for this mess. But that is beside the point.

"Alright, Shadow. You got it! Sorry for being late, as weird as this is - I don't want to spend another minute here."

Shadow's response is garbled, but Sonic can make out a hint of annoyance overshadowed by desperation. Oof, Shadow is not doing well if he is relying on Sonic of all people. He feels terrible for the guy, even if he punches him too often to Sonic's liking. This guy seriously needs to attend some ethics classes. We don't sneak up and hit people, Shadow. That is just rude and painful. 

Sonic is so busy concentrating on Shadow and his inner monologue that he does not notice the contraption further up ahead. He sees a flash of blue but is already stumbling and rolling into the sand. He cannot see what made him trip up. He groans, bemoaning the sand that got under his quills. He shakes his pelt, trying to quickly get back up and back to running. In the back of his mind, he can hear Shadow's voice screaming. But it fades as fast as soon as it registers. 

Not to disappoint his rival, he hurries. Shadow sounded desperate, and it worries Sonic - even if they do not have the best relationship, he still cares for Shadow. Him screaming so gutterally cannot be good. He sets off to resume running. Except he cannot get up. 

He looks at his feet, gasping. He ran into a trap! It is a strange contraption, certainly nothing like Dr Eggman's MO or the little he remembers of the type of gadgets the Choas Council creates. But it clings to his ankles, snapping together every time the two bendy wires come into contact. They are like magnets, drawn to each other. But much stronger than the silly fridge magnets Sonic and Tails keep on their fridge. They are devious. Sonic cannot stand upright without having to keep his legs apart. He cannot run like this!

Oh man, to be defeated by a glorified super magnet. I'm lucky Dr Eggman is nowhere to see this. I wouldn't want him to get any funny ideas. 

Sonic growls, looking around to see how he even activated this trap. It would just be his luck if he accidentally set off an easily avoidable trap. A strand of silver shines in his eye, leading back to the strange contraption pulling to the handcuff ankles. At least it is not a hogtie. That is just degrading. Sonic tries his best not to think about that. He was threatened as a child to be eaten too often and finds the image funny.

It is a tripwire, he realises - attached to a flashing little red light. Sonic stares at it, creeping dread filling his gut. Blinking red lights are never good.

He fastens back into a run to get as far away from whatever disaster he just unlocked. But as suspected, the magnets pull together just as they gravitate towards each other, making him fall and eat sand - again. He groans into the sand, spitting it back out when he comes up to breathe. He is sick and tired of this. Sonic scrambles upright, getting to work to untangle it. If the trap is anything like a fishing net, he will get out of it as long as he can concentrate enough to untie the knot.

But the bendy wire is more slippery than he expected, and even when he does get to the knot, it is sealed tight, pinching against his fur the harder he pulls. 

"Stupid fat fingers! Arghh!!!!" He screams, giving up and just gnawing on the wire. It does not break, even as it bends and shreds from his teeth. It looks ugly with his bitemarks, but still, no cigar.

"What is this made from - titanium?!"

"Just bendable metal, actually; I just infused it with paradox energy to harden the metal wiring so it won't snap so easily."

Sonic snaps his head towards Nine, who casually sits on a cruiser. He must not have heard it above his own frustration. 

"Nine…" Sonic trails off, not sure what to say. 

"Me." Nine points at themself, gritting their teeth. Their mechanical tails carry them up to the nose of the sand mobile, sitting on top of them high and mighty. They look down at him, judgemental. Although not angry, despite what Sonic expected. But Sonic does not care for that, struggling for the magnets to unhook. He sat still for so long that they refuse to detach again. 

"Argh! Let me go! This isn't funny!" Sonic demands, struggling. The sand is getting up all his fur into places he would prefer sand never be. But he does pay attention to it, desperate to return New Yoke, Kux, Rebel, Thorn - hell, he would take having one of Shadow's sucker punches over this. 

Nine cocks their head.

"I wasn't trying to be. You will find my humour to be lacking." They lean over, cradling their head on their hand.

"I was wondering when you would try and make a run for it again. I did not expect you to play along for this long. I suppose even with short-term memory loss, you do learn. How fascinating." They say, sounding so aloof it is maddening, "I will have to add to my notes." Despite their statement, they do nothing to note down the information they covet. They are staring tiredly at Sonic whilst kicking their feet. Nine's hand hides their mouth, but from what little Sonic can see - a snarl hides behind it. He knows from Tails what the wrinkles of one look like. Nine hides it well, but they are pissed off. 

Sonic halts in his struggles - realising it is useless. Perhaps he can still find out why Nine is doing this and plead for reason. Nine is smart. Surely they can see how bad this is?

"Why? What is going on? Is this your doing?! People are going to get hurt if you don't release-" Sonic pleads - a flash of what he left behind in New Yoke flashing before his eyes. 

But he is interrupted by Nine.

"Why? Why?! "Nine shouts, eyes dilating into pinpricks in their anger. They swipe at the air, enraged. But they quickly calm down, for they look anguished instead as if they are the one here losing so much from their actions. 

"Oh, of course, you would not remember. I keep forgetting about that. Maybe I'm the one with amnesia here, haha." Nine says, sitting back down on their throne of metal and bioware, a hand dragging across their face. 

"I don't feel like explaining it again. You understand, right? I sound like a broken record at this point." They yawn as if this is just a regular occurrence to them. And it is - but it boggles Sonic's mind. How can they be so nonchalant about this? His perception of the past days is shattered, and they do not even care. And why would they, when they have been doing this repeatedly? The realisation drives an ice-cold spike into Sonic's heart. How long have they been here for Nine to have grown so numb? 

Amnesia, really? Oh. Sonic is unsure if he should believe Nine; with their lies and actions, they have proven themself untrustworthy. But every piece of evidence points towards it: the bunker, the signs of age and most importantly, himself. The lethargy was not him being stressed; it was from oversleeping in a cycle of broken healing. 

It is a difficult pill to swallow. But Nine has no patience for it, scoffing. Sonic glares at them. If they are correct, then their reaction makes sense. But still, that does not stop Sonic from being rightfully angry. 

He is a happy-go-lucky dude. But this is the last straw. 

"You fucking ba- Ah!" He yells, writhing on the ground. A sudden numbness overtakes him, shooting from his ankle up through his body. It is an icy feeling, seeping into his veins and paralysing him. He falls to the sand, stretching his neck to see what happened. The little device to the wire unplugs a tiny needle, ejecting it once used. 

It steals his voice, slurring around what he wanted to say.

Nine jumps down from the sandmobile and saunters to Sonic, grouching beside him. Sonic can barely keep them open, but dread pools in his stomach as Nine smiles at him - lacking any gentleness. 

"Oh, Don't you worry Sonic. Everything will be alright. I'm here." Nine croons, placing a hand on Sonic's head. Sonic is too lethargic to raise his spines and slumps on the ground, eyes falling shut.

"Mark my words. I will make your world a reality, one way or another. Even if it takes me a century or more - I will succeed and make paradise. Nothing will stand in my way, not even your obtuse self-sacrificial tendencies." Nine whispers so tenderly, as if it is a secret. They pet Sonic, humming a tune into the empty desert air. 

"So go to sleep, and when you wake up, we will do this over and over again until we do this  right ." Nine's voice filters through, just barely, yet Sonic understands every single one. Afraid and filled with astronomical dread. 

"Goodnight,  buddy  - until we meet again."

And Sonic drifts off, dreaming a very grim dream.

Extra cut content, potential text from an earlier Loop (chapter 2):

Sonic was not always emotionally available for Tails. He understood giving them basic needs and survival skills. But Tails experiences the world so much differently than he does. His kid sibling is a genius and wonderful, but he would be lying if he said their childhood was easy. They came upon a system where Tails would flat-out tell him what they wanted or needed. New screws, wrenches, movie nights with just the two of them, flavourless foods, hyper electrical charges specifically stolen from secret government bases, etc… Sonic had Tails covered. It is far from perfect, and Sonic still messes up reading the finer details - trying to make it with too much gift-giving and less listening than he should.

But, with Nine - they are an entirely different nut to crack. 

They do not say anything, nor do they request anything from Sonic. They look as if Sonic is going to run away all of a sudden and leave. As if! Sonic cannot imagine a scenario when he would do that voluntarily. Not when the future is so uncertain, and a piece of Tails might slip past him again. 

Still, when he does reach out, offering a hand with their experiments or making lunch, Nine just smiles. Not gently with a little affection eye roll Tails does or toothly when they are finally getting somewhere with their work. But, almost nostalgically? Sonic is not sure what to call it, but the first time he saw it, he thought he was hallucinating. The usually grumpy fox smiling from ear to ear without a sense of sarcasm had thrown him off; he did not even bother feeling useless when Nine told them they thought the gesture was sweet but declined it—saying something about how Sonic should rest and that handling dangerous equipment while healing from a concussion is a recipe for disaster.

Sonic does not know much about medical stuff, so he did not question it. But sitting around doing nothing is grating. Sonic does not like having nothing to do. He is always an advocate for relaxation. But that comes after a good run or an exciting battle. He feels empty and uneasy, as if he is forgetting something really important.

Direction notes chapter 1:

-Nine wakes up and freaks out. Sonic acts like everything is fine. Nine is suspicious but says nothing. Their morning feels tense and rehearsed. Sonic considers asking what is going on, but something inside of him tells him not to, and he obeys it. End the scene with an awkward breakfast. 

-The next scene is Sonic and Nine looking around the base. Nine explains its intricacies, delighted Sonic shows interest while Sonic feels something horror creep up his spine. (CUT) {Potential earlier loop where Nine reveals too much and administrators the amnesia serum earlier than usual}

Direction notes for OG script of chapters 2, 3 and 4 (so this chapter's script)

*Sonic keeps requesting to go up. Nine makes excuses. Sonic finally decides to go up himself without Nine. Realising he doesn't need Nine's permission at all to leave the bunker, He goes into the forbidden tunnel Nine warned him about after exploring the bunker and realising there is no exit. That tunnel is the only exit. 

Sonic realises as he goes through this tunnel that things don't appear as they are, and he finds signs of a struggle in the hallway (remnants of Nine forcefully taken over the bunker). He gets a bad feeling and climbs up to the surface. There, everything looks as he remembered. But, he needs to leave - now. He tries to excuse himself by saying that he needs to save his friends and the rebels, ignoring how Nine tried to keep him here. 

He tries to fly the Tempest (CUT, the Tempest is inside in the final cut). But unlike the Tarnodo, Sonic can't seem to make it work. He leaves and tries to run for it, as Shadow calls for him to fucking book it. Sonic does that but gets caught by Nine's security system. The Tempest has an alarm that alerts Nine if anyone but them tries to pilot it. Not that that would have mattered much since the security system would have captured Sonic regardless. But perhaps if Sonic had left the space shuttle alone, he would have had enough time to figure out a way to escape (unlikely). Now, it is too late, and the nightmare restarts. End Loop [UNKOWN]*