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Mecha always came back on time.
He was loyal. Smart. Strong. Knew the answers to everything. He would be back in the next few seconds.
At least, that's what Metal repeated to itself as it waited. It sent out pings every few minutes, hoping for some response, but got nothing. This was starting to worry it. With Mecha being mostly retired from his duties now, it was a little strange that he had been sent out on some mission when he was technically out of practice.
Was the doctor bored? Why else would he send Mecha after the hedgehog after such a long time?
Metal paced back and forth by the main gates. Every so often its optics would flick up to the security locks. It was planning. It disregarded any E-Series that stopped to stare at it. Mecha was officially one hour late. Discrepancies of a few minutes here and there might be expected, but this much time was unheard of for Metal.
By the two-hour mark, Metal grew tired of waiting. It looked around, checking that nobody was watching, looked up the security cameras dotted around up high, and decided that it didn't matter if it was spotted anyway. It engaged the security locks, barely waited for the doors to open, and then ran outside.
The air was heavy and damp with the aftermath of a storm. This was nothing like the softer morning that it had taken flight in. The sky was dark, grey, as if the night was impatiently trying to take over. Metal tried its best to take the humidity and temperature into account before taking off into the air, remembering its training from before.
Down below, it spotted a familiar form amongst wet grass. Without hesitation it freefell down, watching as the ground came into focus with every second - and landed with a slam a few feet away from its sibling. It rose to stand as quickly as it could, and was thankful to see Mecha stir and turn his head to look at him.
The situation wasn't good. This was clearly a hedgehog attack - the kind that Metal was familiar with now - the spin-dash gashes that Metal had come to loathe marred Mecha's armour. Wires were exposed, circuits sparked dangerously against remnants of rain.
Metal knelt down beside its sibling, optics passing over Mecha's frame frantically. What could it do? It wasn't trained for this. It wasn't trained to care about this, but it did. It hadn't handled a situation like this yet. It placed a hand over the open wound across Mecha's chest, shielding it from the damp.
"Metal Sonic."
Metal startled upon hearing its siblings voice, and its optics quickly fixed onto Mecha's face. Then, its optics softened, something sad replacing the confusion.
Yes, this was sad.
It didn't like it.
Metal shifted closer, looking over the other robot's injuries over and over - what could it do? What could it do? Metal was capable of feeling pain, so was Mecha suffering? No, this wasn't right. Metal looked around, hoping that someone else would be coming, someone who would know what to do, but the landscape was starkly empty.
Why wouldn't Mecha just get up?
Metal grabbed Mecha's free hand and tried to pull him up. If they could get home, everything would be fine - it could grab the tools it used to fix itself before, and nothing would be wrong anymore. It mustered up the use of its underused vocalizer and said,
"Home."
Mecha shook his head. "There is... little reason to return. I suggest that you return before scout units are sent to locate you."
Metal froze, staring down at Mecha, bewildered and hurt. What about me? What about us? Why are you trying to convince me to leave you here?
Mecha didn't register his little brother's confusion, only seeing that it wasn't responding. "Metal Sonic. I am retired from my duty. I have served my purpose, have I not. The doctor will not endeavour to repair me. Do you understand that he is not coming."
Metal disagreed, of course. It let go of Mecha's hand to free its own up to sign. It hadn't yet mastered sign language, this being a new language encoded into its library, but it tried its best.
"You. Not finished purpose. This- means never finish. Not efficient."
Mecha disregarded the emotional standpoint for his own logic. "I operated at full efficacy during my encounter with the Master Emerald. If I was unable to attain my goal objective then, I am highly unlikely to succeed now. The statistical likelihood of this is-"
Metal shook its head, both upset and angry. It glared down at him, snatching the other machine's hand back into its own, which stopped Mecha's train of thought. Mecha, in reply, reached up with his free hand to place it on his sibling's cheek - a motion that he had seen the doctor perform on Metal too, when comforting it, he assumed.
"... He is not coming. You are aware of this."
It didn't make sense. Mecha was- he was Robotnik's right-hand robot. Right? And Mecha was important, no, essential to everything. He couldn't be left behind, right? That didn't make any sense. For such a smart and collected robot, Mecha was being extremely illogical. It was a situation that threw Metal off - it thought it knew a lot about Mecha, but evidently not.
Evidently, there was something deeper going on that it just couldn't understand. It thought Mecha didn't feel any emotion at all, so what on earth was this? Maybe his logic controls had taken too hard of a hit in the fight.
But from Mecha's point of view, this made perfect sense. Resources allocated to maintaining it, to keeping it powered on, could all go to the newer unit, thereby securing a better chance that their shared objective would be complete.
"You must listen to me," Mecha continued, softening his vocalizer, "Metal Sonic, you are my successor. You are aware that there can only be one Sonic, for this is programmed into you. There cannot be multiple versions active at the same time."
Metal shook its head furiously. But you aren't Sonic. You're Mecha. You're not him, you're someone else. If Sonic wasn't alive, this would never have happened. The thought pissed it off. The thought made it want to sink its claws into that horrid little-
"I know you are denying this, but simply not speaking your thoughts. This is... understandable, I believe." Mecha replied to the unspoken words. "But you must listen to this carefully. It is important. I implore you."
Metal stared at Mecha for several long moments, slowly moving to sit back down, holding his hand the whole time, thinking of how much it despised Sonic more and more. The thoughts of the hedgehog cycled in its head on repeat, like some fucked up mantra, and it - for a moment - actually struggled to focus on Mecha's words over its own thoughts.
"This... what you witness now... it shall happen to you." Mecha began softly. "You will encounter dangerous situations. You may not be prepared. You will encounter conflicts with your programming against your decision-making skills. And you..." He trailed off, brushing a thumb tenderly over Metal's cheek bolt, in the way that he had noted Metal liked before.
Metal continued to stare into Mecha's visor, confused, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt. Angry. Angry. Hateful.
"... You may face a similar fate. And when that time comes, you must be brave. This is the way of all hedgehog-series machines. There were units before us, and undoubtedly there will be several after us. We, although sentient and aware, are ultimately disposable units if we do not succeed. Thus, you must succeed."
No. That couldn't be right. Metal shook its head, squinting its optics in disbelief all the while. Did Mecha really see himself as disposable like that? Metal wouldn't have it. Mecha wasn't just some toy to throw away, he was a real thing, something aware. Mecha deserved better than that. Why couldn't he see that, especially at a time like this?
"Metal Sonic. You know it. You are aware of it. Somewhere within, you know. This is an impossible battle. We are engineered to fail. And the doctor may mourn us. He may appear to be distressed by the loss of us. But he shall make another. And another. And another. He will not stop. You must be the last one. Without other hedgehog-series units taking your resources, your success will increase."
Maybe it was true that Metal had failed. Maybe it was true that Mecha had failed, too. But it didn't mean they were doomed to repeat this over and over, right?
"If not like... others. Need you. Your help." Metal signed, its hand movements sharp and determined.
"I have taught you all that you require," Mecha replied, still unrelenting. You know everything you need. You are now my replacement.
There was a short silence before Metal suddenly signed, "shut up."
Mecha stared up at it, taken aback. "Pardon."
"Shut. Up."
Metal wouldn't hear another word of this. This couldn't be the only way. No, it wouldn't be. It refused to let it be. There was room in the world for two hedgehog-series. There was room for two brothers. There was all the space and time in the world for them. And they wouldn't face the same fate as those who came before them. And they would survive. And they would win. And they would defeat their enemy. No matter what.
And Metal was smaller than Mecha. Not as strong. Perhaps, not as smart, yet. But it didn't matter. It shifted up to crouch. It moved to slide its arms under Mecha's form and, with all of its strength, picked him up off the ground.
"What are you..."
Metal remembered its flight training. It consulted the data, making sure to account for the additional weight of its sibling. Then, it activated its primary engine, threw thousands of revs into it, and took off into the air with purpose.
"... Thank you, although this is most illogical. Your frame cannot sustain this additional weight for the estimated four minute-"
"Home."
And it wanted to say, you are not disposable. And it wanted to say, you are my brother, I would never leave you. Instead, it made the journey in silence and let its actions do the talking. And it wanted to say, let's go home. You are not disposable. We will change the narrative.