Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sonic sits at the dining room table in his and Tails’ usual home. The kit is not home right now. He hasn’t been for a few weeks. He has been exploring the world and going on his own adventures after they came back from their time on the Starfall Islands. Sonic smiles to himself at the thought. Pride swells openly in his chest. He has the sudden urge to call out to someone, to explain to them how incredible his younger brother is. Fortunately, there is no one around to talk with, and even if there were, Sonic is too focused on his current task to actually pull his attention away from it.

He’s extremely focused right now. Although he can usually keep his attention span from wearing thin when he’s doing something interesting, he seems far more focused than he’s ever been in his life. Even entertaining books don’t quite capture his attention so completely. He’s entirely enthralled by the task right in front of him, and he imagines other people would give him a weird glance if they saw him. Frankly, dozens of people could have broken into his house to give him a weird look and he would have been none the wiser about it.

Sonic is planning right now. That is probably what’s most intriguing about this situation. He is actually sitting down and planning something out from start to finish. It’s a trip, he tells himself, and he’s outlining everything he needs to do before he sets out for it. Sonic’s smile widens as he finishes with what he set out to finish today. It isn’t everything that needs to be done, though, so he allows himself to keep going. Paper after paper, signature after signature, location after location. All of it has to be done before he leaves.

As Sonic moves one stack aside, his ears twitch at the distant sound of a horn blaring into the long night. 

—

Sonic sets a stack of books down in a metal receptacle. Sonic taps a gloved hand against the top of the stack while the other one makes sure it is as structurally sound as it can be. Sonic nods firmly to himself as he takes a step away from the receptacle. His stack does not immediately crumble. It remains upright, surrounded by other books that people have brought to the local library.

“What are you doing?” A voice calls out behind him. Sonic hums to himself as he turns around. He’s surprised to see Shadow standing in the library, especially with a book tucked into the nook of his elbow, but Sonic doesn’t show his surprise on his face for even a second. He only grins widely at his rival. He tucks his arms behind his back as he hurries over to Shadow’s side. The Ultimate Lifeform rolls his eyes, stepping toward the library self-checkout.

“I’m doing exactly what it looks like I’m doing. I’m returning some books. I’m going on a trip soon, and Tails doesn’t like overdue fees,” Sonic explains, putting his arms on the counter beside Shadow. He leans closer to the ebony hedgehog, nearly brushing their shoulders together. He maintains some distance, however, when Shadow’s stare cuts from over to him. Sonic presses onward, never one to stop even when people look at him funny. “What are you doing, Shads?”

Shadow does not dignify Sonic’s question with a response when it is obvious what he’s doing. Sonic chuckles. He turns his attention to the book Shadow is checking out. Sonic recognizes it vaguely. Tails must have checked it out at some point or another. It certainly seems like the type of book he would get since it seems to be talking about history through the lens of robotics. Considering the thickness of the book, Sonic assumes it’s either in-depth or expands across a large amount of time. It could be both, but it isn’t like Sonic is going to discover that for himself. He likes reading and he loves Tails, but he wouldn’t pick that book up unless it was the key to saving the universe— and even then, reluctantly.

“You are going on a trip,” Shadow states. Sonic hums in agreement even though they both know Shadow isn’t asking a question. At least, it doesn’t sound like he is, but Shadow’s attention is on Sonic like he’s expecting more. When Sonic doesn’t immediately give that, Shadow releases a long-suffering sigh. “Do you usually plan your trips?”

“Nope. This is a first for me. I usually let adventure find me. But I mean, I guess it still did this time. I came home after grocery shopping a few days ago. There was a train ticket taped to my front door. I wasn’t going to go at first, but then, I decided it seemed like fun. I’m planning just to make things easier on everyone else,” Sonic explains. He remembers the day clearly. It was only a week ago, after all. There were a few bags in Sonic’s arms to replace the food he let go bad. The paper was taped directly to the center of the door. The words were written in big, bold red letters, so it was nearly impossible to miss. Sonic, at least, couldn’t take his eyes away from it. He stared for a long time, wondering if he should tear it to shreds or bring it inside. He left it on the door. When the afternoon brought a sudden rainstorm, Sonic felt anxious as he recovered the paper before it could be destroyed by the rain. Once it was inside, Sonic felt like he accepted the words written across it. He needed to do this now.

“This really is a first for you,” Shadow acknowledges. Sonic laughs freely. Shadow has always been of the opinion that Sonic is reckless and bothersome, and he’s vocal about it, too. If anyone would be proud of Sonic for taking care of the details before they affect other people, it would be Shadow.

Sonic’s ears move. He turns away from Shadow to stare into the distance. The train horn has returned. It isn’t any louder, but it is strange to hear it during the daytime. He thought the train only came around at night. Sonic frowns, but he ultimately shrugs it off. It just reminds him that he has to get back to work.

“Exactly! Anyway, I have to run now, Shads. I have to buy a plot,” Sonic tells him. He waves over his shoulder as he speeds over to the door. Before he transforms into a blue blur zipping through the streets, he calls out, “Enjoy your book!”

Once Sonic is gone, Shadow stares at the counter where his arms once were. Something doesn’t feel right, but Shadow cannot quite put his finger on it. He huffs in annoyance. Even when he’s trying not to cause problems, Sonic is always troubling Shadow with his inconsistencies and self-indulgence.

—

Sonic moves through the flower shop with a contemplative expression. A restless energy builds inside of him as he’s forced to go slow. While he knows what flowers he’s looking for, he cannot speed around to grab them all without causing an entire whirlwind that would tear the petals from the stems. Sonic, personally, doesn’t want that to happen, and he doesn’t want to cause more trouble for the shop owner than he already has. Thankfully, the interior of the garden is enough to encourage him to stamp down the sudden fervor infiltrating his veins. The flowers are beautiful, and the scents are pleasant enough to keep him from tearing everything around in a fit of unrestrained energy. 

Sonic makes an excited noise as he finds the flower he was looking for. He plucks a gladiolus from where it was waiting for someone to find it. He brings it over to the glass vase he was using to hold the flowers he’s forming into a bouquet. The gladiolus fits right in the center. It hangs over all the other flowers like a beacon. Sonic smiles as he arranges the other flowers around it. There are many yellow chrysanthemums filling the vase, and to compliment the bright yellow, Sonic has placed a few hyacinths for their saturated purple coloring. Sonic braided some forget-me-nots to hang around the vase’s edge. Now, the gladiolus protects all the flowers.

“Mr. Sonic!” Someone calls out. Sonic pulls his attention away from his flowers. A smile breaks out across his face when he notices Cream at the end of the row. She rushes over to him, slamming directly into his legs for a hug. He squats down to hug her back. Cream’s childish laughter fills his ears.

“Cream, there you are— Oh, and Sonic, too. I didn’t know you were here,” A familiar voice calls out as they turn the corner. Vanilla looks at Sonic and Cream with a peaceful expression crossing her face. She smiles gently at them. Sonic has always felt weird around Vanilla. He realizes now, of course, that she’s only trying to treat him kindly. She worries about him. She worries about Sonic and all his friends, almost as much (or maybe just as much as) her own daughter. Sonic didn’t know how to deal with that when he first met Vanilla. He still doesn’t think he knows how to handle it, but he pushes down such feelings today. There’s no reason to feel that way, even if he’s certain she has nothing to worry about. “What are you doing?”

“Buying some flowers. I need to preorder a whole bunch. I’d normally pick them myself, but I thought this would be the easier option,” Sonic explains. He rises from his feet. He gestures to the vase he made himself. He was about to show it to the shopkeeper to buy these flowers (and the vase) along with ordering several more bouquets. He doesn’t know exactly how many he needs, though. He supposes he’ll just hand over the money and see what that gets him. Hopefully, it will be enough, but he doesn’t mind if there aren’t any flowers. He just knows that his friends wouldn’t agree with him. If he doesn’t do this, they’ll get their own flowers, and he would rather spend his money than waste theirs. “What are you two doing here?”

He addresses the question to Vanilla, but Cream answers it at the same time she grabs onto his hand. She leans back on her heels, forcing Sonic to lean down. He braces his other hand against his knee, bending slightly. He looks directly into Cream’s bright eyes. “We’re buying flowers for the kitchen! Mr. Vector burnt breakfast earlier, so now it smells… Uh, not good.”

Cream glances over her shoulder at her mother. Sonic snorts, wondering what word Cream was going to use in the first place. Sonic and Cream’s attentions are both captured by Vanilla as she steps to Sonic’s vase full of flowers. Her fingers gently move through them, organizing them with a far tender hand than Sonic could ever have. Cream rises on the tips of her toes to look. Sonic picks her up in the same way he used to hold Tails to give her a better view of the flowers. She leans forward in Sonic’s arms with wide, enraptured eyes. Her mouth hangs open as she puts one hand on her mother’s shoulder to keep from falling. “They’re so pretty!”

“Thank you,” Sonic tells her with a proud smile on his face. He spent some time trying to figure out the best flowers to get. He doesn’t really care about style or clashing colors, but he referenced an art book Tails kept on his bookshelf at their house. Other than the yellow and purple flowers, though, Sonic didn’t stay completely faithful to it.

“They are beautiful,” Vanilla agrees with a somber touch to her voice. She lowers her hands to touch the counter on either side of the glass vase. She frowns slightly as she stares at the gladiolus. “They have quite a… sad meaning, though, don’t they?”

“They’re beautiful,” Sonic repeats, pointedly not answering the question.

“Huh? Do flowers have meaning?” Cream asks, looking between Vanilla and Sonic.

“They do! There’s a whole language behind flowers. I’ll give you a book about it,” Sonic nods with a smile. He thinks Amy gave him that book. He doesn’t remember why. It might have been because of some comment he said in her presence. It might have been on a whim. Was it a gift for some holiday or birthday? No, Sonic thinks he would have remembered that if it was. Well, that’s not true at all, but still, it doesn’t feel like there was any significance. He doesn’t think Amy will mind if he gives it away. He has no use for it now.

“Really? Thanks, Mr. Sonic!” Cream cheers, throwing her arms into the air in her excitement.

Sonic laughs. He sets Cream back on the floor. He grabs onto his glass vase, bringing it out of Vanilla’s immediate vision. It feels weird for Sonic to trade a warm, living being for a cold glass vase filled with half-alive flowers, but he doesn’t pay too much attention to that. He settles the vase in the crook of one arm. He smiles at Vanilla and Cream over the side of the flowers. “No problem, kiddo. I’ll see the two of you some other time, okay? I have to handle this before the—”

As if knowing what he was going to say, the train moves through the city. Sonic looks around, feeling his ears swivel from one direction to the opposite. Sonic huffs out his nose. He isn’t particularly annoyed, though. He takes it for what it is: a reminder. He shrugs at the two rabbit Mobians. “Nevermind, but I still have to get this taken care of. Have a good day!”

Sonic waves over his shoulder as he hurries over to the shopkeeper on the other side of the flower shop. Cream grabs onto her mother’s hand as she watches Sonic disappear from view. Cream’s expression furrows together as she notices the seriousness in her mother’s eyes. Cream doesn’t understand what happened, but she gets the feeling that she missed something. Her frown becomes representative of her feelings as she laments over still being a little kid when she wants to be grown already.

—

Sonic opens the door wider for Rouge. She smiles gratefully at him as she steps inside the house, her heels clicking on the wooden floors. Sonic closes the door behind her. The warm sunlight turns into the cool shadows, but there are still a few puddles inside the mudroom from the windows surrounding the door. Rouge does not take her shoes off. Sonic doesn’t force her to since he and Tails rarely do that, either. This room was simply part of the house. It’s too much trouble to remove it or to use it properly, so they leave it as an empty room only to be filled by the light of whatever celestial body is currently hanging in the sky.

“Is it in the living room?” Rouge asks, gesturing into the main room of the house. Sonic nods at her. Rouge’s smile widens as she hurries to collect her ‘goodies.’ It’s only a box of random objects Sonic thought she would like. Her excitement, though, is most likely for the pieces of sea glass and exposed gems he’s found while running across the islands. There aren’t any chaos emeralds. Sonic doubts there’s anything even remotely valuable to a jewel thief like Rouge, but she seems happy to trifle through the box for whatever looks beautiful. At the end of the day, Sonic supposes that’s what makes her feel good— beauty, not value.

Sonic returns to what he was doing before he heard her knocking. Although he hates water, he knows that it’s necessary to properly clean something. He’s been doing that a lot lately. He’s deep-cleaned nearly every room in the house. There are a few exceptions— most notably Tails’ areas— but there are a few that Sonic has been saving. Today, he’s knocking the kitchen off his list. He scrubs the countertops, barely listening to Rouge in his living room. He trusts her enough not to cause a mess in there; he would hate to clean it again.

“What’s this, Blue?” She asks, drawing his attention away from his task at hand. Sonic looks over to see she’s standing in front of a calendar. Sonic drifts closer to her to see that she’s pointing at a date he circled with a thick red marker. There is another date further down circled with a black marker.

“That’s when I’m going on my trip,” Sonic informs her, tapping his finger against the red circle.

She points at the black circle. “Is this when you’re coming back?”

“Ah, no, that’s the day of a party,” Sonic explains, feeling a twinge of embarrassment as he says it aloud. He rubs the back of his quills, feeling the muscle tense beneath his massaging. He returns to his place in the kitchen to avoid looking at the calendar and at Rouge.

“Oh, a party? Am I invited?” She asks, leaning against the kitchen’s bar.

Sonic frowns. He tilts his head back to stare at the cabinets hanging above the countertop. He eventually shrugs, throwing a half-smile over his shoulder. “Of course, you’re invited! I just didn’t know if you would want to come. You don’t have to, by the way. I won’t blame you if you skip it.”

“Come now, why would I skip a party? What’s it for?” Rouge asks, putting her chin in the palm of her hand. Although her expression is nonchalant, there is an intensity to her turquoise gaze that Sonic doesn’t understand. Of course, he would probably get it if he thought she knew what the circled date was all about, but she doesn’t. He knows. He knows that it’s important, too. He keeps writing both circled dates over and over again, tracing the numbers in every surface that permits him to write.

“Party might be a big word. It’s just a small gathering. There won’t even be snacks. How sad is that?” Sonic informs her with an exaggerated reaction to not getting food.

Rouge laughs. “I’ll tell you what, Blue. I’ll make a cake for your little gathering. Shadow and Omega can assist me.”

“That’d be much appreciated! It would definitely take some trouble off of Tails,” Sonic happily agrees. He shows Rouge his smile. “And good luck with getting Shadow and Omega to bake.”

“I have my ways,” Rouge cryptically mentions. Sonic snorts, knowing that she probably does. Sonic would let it fall into silence, but Rouge asks him a question, “What did you mean when you said it would take some trouble off of Tails?”

“Just that he’ll have less work to do. That’s what I’ve been trying to do these past few weeks. Make less work for him,” Sonic explains. He gestures around to the cleaned house. He thinks about how he turned in all his library books and returned anything else he was borrowing. He thinks about the flowers and the plot he bought. There are invitations on the living room table that only need Tails to put them through the mail system or hand them out himself. Sonic even packed. He’s going to make sure Tails doesn’t have to do anything.

“What are you—” Rouge’s question— layered with as much concern as there is on her face— is cut off when Sonic whirls around. He stares out the window above the kitchen sink. Rouge might have continued talking, but Sonic wasn’t listening to her anymore. Instead, he stares at the colors shifting in the distance. He reaches a hand to touch the glass with his white glove. The warmth of the bright day does nothing for him. He cannot feel it anymore.

“The train is passing,” Sonic murmurs. He taps his fingers against the glass. He can’t hear anything over the thundering noise of the horns. They hurt his head. He is going to have a headache later. He might have a headache right now. Sonic isn’t certain. He just keeps staring out the window as the train passes the house. It is leaving him behind, but only for now. Soon, Sonic is going to catch up to it. He’s going to ride it. It’s going to be fine.

Sensing that she’s lost Sonic, Rouge steps back into the living room. She takes the box into her arms. She glances over at the letters left on the coffee table. Each one has a name printed on the front. It takes Rouge a moment to figure out that the handwriting is Sonic’s. He usually writes so fast that everything is borderline ineligible, but this time, he’s written the names out carefully and slowly. He doesn’t want any mistakes, she suspects, but she doesn’t understand why. She has the impulse to take the letter with her name, but she decides against that in case Sonic is saving these letters for something important. She leaves the letters behind, carrying her box of new belongings as she leaves the house— leaves Sonic to stare out the window.

—

Sonic knocks on the threshold for the Chaotix Detective Agency’s base of operations. The three cease their lively discussion to look at him. Sonic smiles at them. Vector returns the smile, rubbing his hands together like a classical businessman. He moves closer to Sonic, “How can the Chaotix Detective Agency help you today?”

“I need you guys to give Tails this key when he gets back home,” Sonic explains, handing over the key and some currency. Vector takes it. The smile never drops from his face, but Sonic can tell there’s some confusion. Sonic laughs under his breath. He gestures to the suitcase beside the door frame in the hallway. “I’m going on a trip, so I won’t be able to hand it over myself. Since it’s a key to our house, I thought I shouldn’t just leave it lying around wherever.”

Vector sighs. He drops the money back into Sonic’s hand. “Take this back. We’ll give the key to Tails. You don’t have to pay us for a favor.”

“I insist. I don’t need the money,” Sonic shakes his head. He tosses the bag into the room. Charmy Bee catches it before it can land on the ground. Sonic grins at him. Charmy Bee immediately starts counting the money. Espio looks over his shoulder to double-check the count. Sonic looks away from the group, down the hall. He nods to himself. “As much as I want to hang out, I really have to get going. The train is about to leave. I wouldn’t want to miss the first part of my trip.”

Sonic waves at the three. He grabs onto his suitcase. He struggles with the weight for a moment, but he eventually figures out how to keep it off the ground without dragging himself down with it. He steps into the elevator. As he presses the button for the ground floor, he gives Vector a smile so wide it causes one of his eyes to close and a thumbs-up. Sonic maintains this pose as the elevator door’s slide shut.

“There are no trains in this area,” Espio remarks coolly, looking up from the money they were given. Sonic has completely overpaid. Even if he was asking them to solve a case instead of handing over a key, this is way more money than their current rates require.

If asked, Vector would call it his detective’s intuition, but something isn’t right. Vector turns around. He closes the door behind him. He moves over to their pinboard filled with information. He starts taking down their previous case. He glances at his partners. “Come on, we’ve got a new case to solve. What is going on with that hedgehog?”

—

Sonic stands at the station. His suitcase has been left in front of his feet. His arms hang loosely at his sides. His eyes are loosely shut as he feels the cold night wind blow through his quills. His breathing is unusually slow, but this offers him some peace instead of discomfort. The moonlight causes his body to look as if it were glowing, but he feels so far away from chaos energy that it barely registers to his senses. For the first time in his life, he is entirely focused on the present. He is so in the moment that the past and the future fade away completely. He might be waiting on a train, but he’s never felt this in control of anything in his life.

The silence is broken by the shrill howling of a horn as the train approaches. Sonic’s eyes flutter open as the train appears right in front of him. Even as the train slows down, the engine passes Sonic. It does not stop until the engine almost passes the station. The horn stops blaring, but there is a faint clicking noise like mechanical pieces snapping together. Cold air rushes out of the doors as they slide open. Several doors open, but Sonic is the only person at the station. He takes a deep breath as everything settles into stillness and silence. Sonic is the only being that moves as he grabs onto his suitcase. He struggles with its weight once more, but he doesn’t let it stop him from reaching the train. He stares at the metallic beast in the moonlight. Sonic wears a half-smile as he reaches for the handle to pull himself onto the steps.

“Sonic!” The blue hedgehog is surprised, but as with every time he encounters Shadow, he does not show it. He turns around to look at the ebony hedgehog. The red highlights of his quills and his crimson irises stand out against the dark night when the rest of him blends into the blackness. His inhibitor rings glow in the same way the train does. Shadow takes a few steps forward. His hand reaches out. There’s an odd expression on his face. That is to say, there are emotions on his face. Sonic doesn’t know what any of them are; he just knows that Shadow is feeling something right now.

Sonic smiles at him. He waves his hand over his head as if Shadow’s attention isn’t entirely on him. “Shadow! Are you here to see me off? That’s awfully nice of you! I didn’t know you had it in you. I guess Rouge was right when she said you were just a softie at heart.”

“Sonic, step away from the edge,” Shadow says, slowly and carefully. He completely ignores Sonic’s words.

The blue hedgehog frowns. He glances behind him at the train. Shadow startles forward another half-step, but he freezes when Sonic looks back at him. Sonic arches a brow. “I have to go on the train, Shads. How else am I going to go on my trip? See, I have a ticket and everything.”

Sonic reaches into his quills to pull out the piece of paper. The words are still as bright as they were the day Sonic first saw them. The paper, however, has been folded and unfolded several times. The crispness of the edges prove this effectively. Sonic unfolds the paper one more time. He shows it to Shadow as it would make his rival understand. Unfortunately, Sonic thinks this has the opposite effect because Shadow’s eyes narrow with what Sonic believes is confusion. There might even be a level of concern, but Sonic dismisses that thought immediately.

The train’s horn blares. Sonic flinches, reaching one hand to cover his ear. His ticket rubs against his head, and he realizes that he still as it unfolded between his fingers as he tries to hear the wind over the horn. Once it finishes, Sonic looks at Shadow sheepishly. Despite having more sensitive senses, Shadow doesn’t show any reactions to the horn. Sonic releases a humored breath, almost a chuckle. “You hear that? It means I have to get on the train now. Thanks for coming to see me off, though. Really, you’re a good friend. Or rival, if you still want to deny our friendship.”

Sonic shifts toward the train’s open door. Shadow takes three steps before Sonic’s stare causes him to freeze. He isn’t that far away anymore. He’s almost at the station where the grass turns into weathered stone. One wrong step could cause Shadow to fall. Sonic doesn’t want that, but he thinks Shadow can swim. Even if he can’t, Shadow will find a way to avoid touching the water. He’s simply good like that.

“Take the next train,” Shadow demands. His voice leaves no room for argument.

Sonic, however, argues. “I can’t do that. I don’t know when the next train is coming. Plus, I want to start my trip as soon as possible. I’ve taken care of everything. You don’t have to worry. There will be nothing for everyone to do except show up to the party. Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just for the people who are going to care… Care enough to gather, anyway. We can’t talk about this right now. I really have to go before the train leaves.”

“Sonic,” Shadow grits out, nearly growling. Sonic hesitates. Shadow is being completely serious right now. While he’s usually serious, there’s something about it different this time. Shadow reaches both hands out. He’s being unusually slow and careful like he’s scared he’s going to spook Sonic. The blue hedgehog would be offended if that isn’t the exact truth. If Shadow chases after him, he will jump.

But it doesn’t seem like Shadow is going to leave. Sonic looks between the hedgehog and the train. He grips his ticket tightly in one hand while the other one grips onto his suitcase. Sonic feels the weight of them both crashing over him. The paper is so light that it could fly away, and the suitcase is so heavy that it is about to bring him crashing into the ground. Sonic feels much the same way— as if he could both float and sink at the same time.

Sonic sighs as the train horn blares for the third and final time. The doors shut at the same moment Sonic angles his head toward Shadow. “Fine. I’ll just catch the next train. You’ll have to pay for that ticket, though.”

Sonic turns back to the train. He watches it leave the station without him. He feels some regret as the train completely passes. He is suddenly met with a dark sky dotted with stars touching an inky ocean at the horizon line. The moon is rising steadily, and Sonic feels its cool rays dance across his body once more. He reaches a hand towards the moon, ready to capture it in one fist. Before he can do that, he feels something grab onto him. He is suddenly whirled around to look at Shadow. Although this would usually start a fight or an argument, Shadow wraps his arms around Sonic, holding the blue hedgehog’s arms to his body.

“If you wanted a hug, I could have given you one,” Sonic tells him, struggling to move his arms around Shadow’s body because of how tightly the former bioweapon is holding him.

“I’m not hugging you. I’m restraining you,” Shadow confirms.

“Restraining me?” Sonic asks, tilting his head to the side. “From what?”

Shadow sighs. He presses his head against Sonic’s chest, and the Hero of Mobius thinks that Shadow isn’t providing any evidence for this not being a hug. “Did you actually see a train?”

“What?”

“Did you actually see a train?” Shadow repeats with an unfamiliar anger in his tone. Sonic has heard Shadow get angry before, but never like this. There’s something different in the way he’s talking now that makes Sonic wonder if he’s inside a dream or illusion. “Did you actually think you were planning a party?”

“I… don’t get it. Yes? The train just left, Shads. And it’s more of a gathering than a party, but… well, yes, I was planning it. I didn’t think I was. I just… was,” Sonic tries to answer even though he’s confused about Shadow’s line of questioning. And here he thought Shadow was a mobian of logic and reason.

Shadow sighs again. His ‘restraint’ loosens enough for Sonic to wrap his arms around Shadow’s body. They are now hugging each other, but Shadow doesn’t pull away or deny what’s happening. He’s barely restraining Sonic anymore, but the hedgehog doesn’t believe he’s going anywhere any time soon. He’s stuck here either until he goes home or another train comes by. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think Shadow is going to let him get on that train, either.

Sonic’s suitcase full of rocks tips over on the ground. His ticket leaves his gloved hand. He frowns at it as the paper spins around in the wind. Gaia must be playing pranks on him because the paper lands directly on his suitcase. For the millionth time in the past few weeks, Sonic reads the bright red letterings written across the paper. KILL YOURSELF.

Chapter Text

The cold night air blows through his dull blue quills, drawing a shiver to spread across his spine. He hunches over his legs at the same moment he wraps his arms around his upper body. His attempt to retain some heat is thwarted immediately by the wind strengthening in intensity, but he doesn’t unfold his body as he balances precariously on the balcony’s railing. The streets far below him are illuminated by street lamps and the minimal traffic driving through the city even at this late hour. Those lights, however, are nothing compared to the skyscrapers all around him. They are so bright that they almost turn night into day. They also pollute the atmosphere until the stars are hidden away. He wonders if he would feel any better if he could see the stars. He doubts it. He would probably just be reminded of the headlights of a locomotive barreling toward him.

He hears a door sliding behind him. He glances over his shoulder. Rouge’s turquoise eyes are bright with concern, and her lips are drawn into a tight line. Her footsteps are quiet as she steps onto the balcony in her slippers. Rouge’s arms wrap around her chest, pulling the edges of her silken robe closer around her to protect from the chill. “Sonic, hun, what are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” He shrugs. He unfolds his body. He puts his hands on the railing beside him. His legs swing back, and his feet hook on the metal beams holding up the railing. Sonic’s grip tightens on the railing. Some primal fear ricochets through his body, but he’s left floundering about why he’s afraid right now. He looks around curiously, only to find nothing but glass panes. Some have a light shining behind them. The majority are dark, only reflecting back preexisting light.

When Sonic looks back, Rouge is standing beside him. She puts her forearms and elbows on the railing. She leans forward. Her eyes examine everything thoroughly, but her gaze eventually lands on him. She looks at him with the same intensity as the wind. The only difference is the temperature. The wind is bitterly cold, enough to drive a healthy man to sickness. Rouge’s eyes are warm, yet Sonic still feels like he’s being burned over a large fire. “Why couldn’t you sleep? Was the couch too uncomfortable for you?”

“No, it wasn’t that,” Sonic shakes his head. He glances at the living room on the other side of the sliding doors, visible through the glass. Rouge turned a lamp on as she went through the living room, and Sonic can see the couch in all its glory. All things considered, it isn’t the worst place Sonic has ever slept. It doesn’t even make that list. The couch is genuinely pretty comfortable, and Sonic knows that he could take a dozen naps on it without ever uttering a word about discomfort. Even if it was uncomfortable, Sonic wouldn’t say anything because he insisted on sleeping on it even when Rouge and Shadow both wanted him to sleep in a proper bed. Sonic didn’t want to take any of their beds— he didn’t even want to stay here but he quickly lost that argument— so he swore he’d be fine on the couch.

Sonic turns his head away from the living room. He stares at the building across from the apartment complex a lot of GUN agents use (apparently, Sonic wasn’t paying much attention). As his eyes move from one lit window to the nearest, he wonders if he’s breaking his promise. He gets the feeling that Rouge and Shadow would not count his current behavior as being fine on the couch.

“Was it the city, then? Shadow had the same problem when he came to stay with me. He was so used to sleeping in near absolute silence that all the cars and other noises kept him awake,” Rouge explains. There is a light teasing tone in her voice as she reveals one of Shadow’s ‘weaknesses’ (in the loosest sense of the word).

“Nope, not that, either. I don’t mind noise. I used to sleep in the forest, and then I moved into a house with Tails. In both cases, complete silence meant something was wrong,” Sonic shakes his head with a half-smile appearing on his face. The forest is obvious, of course. Nocturnal animals should always be making noises, so silence was wrong. In Tails’ case, it was because the kit had the worst sleeping schedule. If the house was silent by the time Sonic was flopping into his bed, Tails was either gone or something awful happened. Sonic sleeps soundly to nature at night or the hammering of metal. It’s silence that keeps him wide awake.

Rouge’s lips move once more, so Sonic decides to just give her the answer. He gets the feeling that it isn’t a surprise for either of them when he tells her. “I couldn’t sleep because of the horn.”

“Did the train come by?” Rouge asks with an unusual edge of hesitation in her voice. Sonic arches a brow in her direction. She doesn’t look away from him, so he comes to figure out that her uncertainty comes from some place on the surface. Deeper down, she isn’t confused at all. Only wary, he would wager.

“It did. It was right here. I was going to get on, but I thought you and Shadow would be pretty mad at me if I did. I was only worried about you, though. Sure, Shadow and I can get into a physical fight because one of us is angry, but I know you’d reveal my search history or something to the world. I can’t have that happening,” Sonic laughs, completely blowing past the train that rolled into this makeshift station earlier in the night. The horn had steadily been getting louder ever since Rouge and Shadow disappeared into their rooms. Sonic was going to ignore it as he usually does at night. He was hoping to catch a few hours since he hasn’t been sleeping well recently (obviously—there’s a literal train horn constantly bombarding his senses). He knew sleep was beyond his capabilities when the horn was replaced with the train settling into place right on the other side of the glass. Sonic moved closer to see the details about it. He was tempted to get on, but, like he said before, he would upset his friends if he did that. 

What he didn’t say is that it wasn’t that he was upsetting someone that kept him off the train. It was Rouge and Shadow specifically. Rouge has been his friend for a while now, but he thought the extent was the two of them teasing each other and doing some favors here and there that were expected to be returned. Sonic could probably rationalize her offering her apartment to him and her coming out here with that worried expression on her face, but there is nothing in his mind that can comprehend the expressions that flitted across Shadow’s face late last night. From the moment that met at the station to the moment Shadow finally walked away from Sonic to get some rest, he has baffled Sonic with the way his eyes keep lingering with emotions familiar on other people’s face but unfamiliar on Shadow’s face.

“That’s good. We have to stay off the train. It isn’t the time for a trip,” Rouge nods slowly. She looks away from him. She stares directly at the air in front of them. Her expression hardens somewhat. She moves her hand through the wind, letting it ruffle the thin fur around her wrists. “Is it still here?”

“No. It left earlier. I can still hear it, though. It isn’t that far. I’m sure I could run after it and find it,” Sonic offers, gesturing into the distance. He’s gotten really good at pinpointing where the train is based on sound. He doesn’t know if this skill extends to other noises. He’ll have to test that out.

“It’s fine. As fun as a train heist sounds, it’s too early in the morning for that. I am going to need several more hours of beauty sleep. You could use it, too, Blue,” Rouge tells him, pushing away from the railing. She takes two half-steps back, amounting to a single step. Rouge lifts her hand in his direction. He stares at it for a long moment. He registers after a moment that she wants him to take it. Sonic hesitates. His attention slides away from Rouge to the distance. The train horn blares one more time, long and hollow and shrill. Sonic forces his eyes away as he takes Rouge’s hand. She tugs on it, bringing him off the railing. He follows her back into the warm apartment. He pretends he doesn’t notice the way Rouge locks the balcony doors and slides the curtains to cover the glass completely.

Despite saying she needed more sleep, Rouge doesn’t return to her room. She sits on the edge of the couch with the remote in her hand. She nestles against the armrest. The television light illuminates her face in cold shades. She pats the space beside her. Sonic drops down without a verbal invitation. He grabs the blanket he was loaned a few hours ago. Rouge keeps her attention on switching the channels as she forcibly moves his body. He lets this happen mainly because he knows that it will regardless of how much he complains or argues. Rouge moves the blanket around him, and she sets his head against her shoulder. She moves a hand through his quills until they are smoothed. Like dominoes falling, Sonic’s relaxed body eventually settles into a relaxed state of mind. Between the droning of the television and a steady heartbeat remarkably close, he can’t hear the train anymore.

Unfortunately, sleep does not come to him. At least, not completely. He dozes off, half-aware of the world around him and half-lost in a station that smells like the ocean. He is never fully gone for the waking world, but his consciousness does wax and wane in the sensory input department. He feels like he’s losing seconds rather than hours, which is what he usually feels like when he’s napping. The process is borderline maddening, but Sonic doesn’t have the heart to complain when this is the most sleep he’s gotten in days. Life has taught him a few lessons, and one of them has been to always take what he can get.

Rouge falls asleep at some point or another because the remote is on the ground and the television is asking if someone is still watching. Sonic stares at the colors moving behind that question. He can hear voices chattering, but he has absolutely no idea what is happening on the television. He doesn’t mind it so much, though, since he probably wouldn’t be able to follow the plot, anyway, with his half-sleeping habit.

It’s, for lack of a better word, nice.

—

Sonic stares at the living room ceiling. The couch cushions beneath him readily accept his weight, and he fears he’s going to make some sort of impression on them that cannot be reversed. It’s an unfounded worry since he has only been lying here for a night— less than 12 hours, probably. He’s only been lying on his back for a few hours, too, so there isn’t anything he could do that cannot be undone. Still, he continues to entertain the thought about the cushions molding around his body. It is a funny thought that keeps him amused for the duration of time he spends on the couch.

He isn’t alone on the couch, though. Shadow sits at his feet. The ebony hedgehog is focused on the book in his hands, but his ears are constantly twitching at every noise in the apartment as if he is waiting for the one that does not belong. Sonic wonders how Shadow would know since Rouge is making a lot of noise in the kitchen area. Pots and pans are slamming into each other, and the interim are filled with alarms and ringtones from her phone. Any moment that could be claimed by silence is broken apart by her heels clicking on the tiles.

“Breakfast is ready!” Rouge calls out merrily. Sonic wonders where her excitement comes from. The early morning and lack of appreciation for her food should upset her, but she keeps a positive attitude even as the morning seems to be preluding a rainy day.

Shadow rises from the couch in one fluid motion. He sets his book on the lampstand beside the couch. He glances over at Sonic. The blue hedgehog gives him a smile and a thumbs up, but this does not satisfy Shadow. It merely paints an unamused expression on his face. Sonic giggles at him until Shadow grabs onto Sonic’s hands, dragging the Hero of Mobius off the couch. Sonic has half a mind to sprawl out on the floor like a child throwing a tantrum, but he can’t bring himself to drop from his feet once he’s on them. He does, however, give Shadow a decidedly petulant expression that only momentarily amuses Shadow, most likely because he’s inconveniencing Sonic.

Shadow moves to the kitchen. Rouge has already made her plate. She eats on the other side of the bar. She scrolls on her phone as she feeds herself. Shadow moves behind her to fix a small plate for himself. He has stated numerous times that he can subsist on only chaos energy, so Sonic isn’t entirely sure why he makes himself eat. Does he like to do it? Does he want to eat what Rouge seemingly prepared for the both of them? Is it a habit he retained from his time wherever— the ARK or with Eggman? Sonic doesn’t know. He could ask if he wanted to, but he finds his voice stolen whenever he wants to ask questions these days (what’s the point of knowing, after all, when he isn’t going to be here much longer?).

Sonic plops himself onto a barstool across from Rouge. She glances at him with a frown. “You can make a plate, dear. I assure you, Shadow isn’t going to eat everything. If he somehow does, I give you full permission to fight him.”

Shadow makes some noise of disagreement, but Sonic doesn’t hear it over his laughter. When he finishes, he meets Rouge’s eyes with a smile on his face. “Good to know I have your permission when I need it. Fortunately, Shadow can eat as much as he wants. I’m not hungry.”

Rouge and Shadow don’t hide the look they share with one another. Despite this, Sonic doesn’t lose his smile or look away for politeness’ sake. He can’t say he doesn’t fully understand them. He has been told several times by a multitude of people that he eats a lot. It isn’t his fault since he’s constantly running around at top speeds. He burns through so much energy, and he has to get it back somehow. Sonic just hasn’t been hungry in a while. He’ll force himself to eat here and there out of habit (or because some part of him knows he should be hungry), and all he manages to do is make himself sick. He did just that yesterday, and he had enough pride to be embarrassed about Rouge and Shadow listening to that. They were good-natured about it, at least— only a few snide remarks from Shadow here and there.

Sonic has been here for two nights and one day. This is his second day here. He has only eaten once. Anyone who knows Sonic intimately would be afraid he was at death’s door at this point, and even those with a passing acquaintanceship with him are aware that it’s unnatural for Sonic to refuse food. He always accepts snacks, and he accepts payment for his heroics in meals. To deny the chance to be fed? Sonic, even in all his wobbly thoughts, knows something is fundamentally wrong with him.

Unfortunately, Sonic really doesn’t like being sick, so he isn’t even going to try to eat. 

“I’m going to head back home today,” Sonic says once he realizes that no one is talking. Rouge is still on her phone, and Shadow seems to be thinking about something. Sonic’s words, however, effectively draw them both from their mindless eating.

“What?” Rouge asks dumbly, a frown pulling on her lips.

“I’m going to head back home today,” Sonic repeats without explaining further. He doesn’t want to tell them that he feels like he’s using their kindness. It would be too strange, especially if one of them were to bring up the point that Sonic stays on his friends’ couches all the time. At least, he used to, but that was before the Starfall Islands. There are a lot of habits that didn’t survive those islands like he did. Sonic isn’t in the right mindset to document each one.

Sonic knows Rouge and Shadow are friends because of the way they communicate without words. Sonic is the same way with his closest friends, especially Tails. At the beginning of their relationship, Sonic didn’t talk at all, but Tails somehow knew what his new best friend was trying to get across. Sonic later figured out how to communicate verbally, but it never felt like Tails’ intuitive comprehension of him suffered for it. Sonic, too, knew what his buddy couldn’t bring himself to say but wanted Sonic to understand.

Sonic thinks it’s interesting to see this same process enacted by two other people. It’s less interesting when he realizes that he’s the subject for their silent conversation. Sonic snorts to himself. “Come on, you guys know I don’t stay anywhere for long. I mean… I can leave, right?”

Shadow’s expression immediately means that Sonic cannot, but kidnapping is not one of Rouge’s usual crimes (though, she isn’t above it). She sets her phone and fork down. She walks around the bar to stand behind Sonic’s barstool. He spins around to see her face. Rouge smiles at him. “You can leave whenever you want, Blue. It was a pleasure to have you stay here. Come by any time, alright, hun?”

“Thank you,” Sonic tells her with a wide smile. He decides to put this apartment on the list of places he will crash on the couch of… when he gets back into the habit of doing that. It will be after Tails, Amy, and Knuckles return, though. Unless he’s already gone on his trip by that point.

As if hearing his thoughts, Rouge adds on, “Don’t get on the train. At least, come tell us before you get on. We would hate to miss our chance to say goodbye.”

“Of course! I’ll make sure you don’t have to track me down at the station,” Sonic answers firmly with enough confidence that Rouge’s expression softens. Shadow looks away. Sonic glances between them both. On the edge of the countertop, he sees a stack of folders. Sonic originally assumed they were from GUN, but the symbol on it is from the Chaotix Detective Agency. Sonic’s train ticket is inside one of those folders. Shadow put it there, and neither him nor Rouge will let Sonic retrieve it. On top of saying goodbye, he’ll have to come back for it when he wants to head off on his trip. That, or he gets a new ticket. Though, Shadow does owe him a new ticket since he made Sonic miss the last train.

“Well, I’ll head off now. No point in lingering. Thanks for letting me stay. These past two days have been nice!” Sonic hops off the barstool. He gives them both a signature smile with a wink and a wave. He doesn’t get to see their reactions as he speeds away, using the chaos energy inside of him since there hasn’t been anything in his stomach for a little while.

—

Sonic knows distantly that he should be going home right now. At least, he should be going to the house that he’s been staying at off and on again for a few years now. It is Tails’ home more than anything, but Sonic doesn’t frequently get into the specifics of the arrangement. At least, he didn’t when Tails could usually be found in the house, either his room or his workshop or the kitchen or living room or really anywhere. It was Tails’ space as much as it was Sonic’s space, and Tails could go anywhere he wanted. He did that, too, but now he isn’t there. Instead, silence has permeated the space that belongs to Tails— belongs to both of them. Sonic pretends he’s fine with it, but he’s really not. He can’t stand the silence, and he knows it will be the only thing he finds in that house. He knows because he’s been stuck living with it for weeks now. Months, technically, now that he’s thinking about it, because time doesn’t really exist in the silence. It stretches on too long, yet Sonic always underestimates how much of it has actually passed.

The horn has been filling the silence. Sonic has been listening to it. At the beginning, it helped him sleep. These days, it keeps him awake. It isn’t any better for him than the silence is. Sonic prefers the horn over the silence, but he would rather not hear either one. In the city streets, Sonic hears half a million different sounds. Some are close to the train horn or the silence, but there are differences. It is these differences that not only keep Sonic from losing his mind but keep him moving. That, ironically, also keeps him going slow as he walks through the streets instead of blitzing through. As if motion is a process that requires thought for him, he puts one foot in front of the other.

Considering everything, Sonic continues walking through the streets with the fuzzy feeling that he has a destination he never wants to reach. Part of him, he thinks, is looking for that station, but it’s only a small part. Every other part is reminding him of his promise to Rouge and his lack of a ticket. He also thinks he needs to postpone a few things regarding the party. He had a strict schedule. Now that it’s broken, he has to change everything. The party was meant to be two weeks after Sonic’s departure to ensure that everyone had time to adjust to his absence. Sonic thought he was being reasonable. He still thinks that was reasonable, which is probably why he should get everything moved back by a few days. Unless, maybe a little less than two weeks is also good enough. It’s only been two days since his planned departure, after all. The others could adjust quickly in that time. At least enough to attend the party.

Sonic’s mind disconnects from his body as he turns into an alleyway. He doesn’t mind too much. The alleyway is fairly wide, and it isn’t that much dirtier than the streets are due to them being outside. Sonic has been cutting through alleyways and side streets throughout the day as morning bleeds into the late afternoon without his eyes picking up on the shifting hues of the sky.

Sonic’s thoughts fall to a standstill as he hears someone yell at him. He knows he heard what they said, but his mind pushes the specifics to the wayside as his eyes register the appearance of the person. A Mobian stands at the entrance of the alleyway with an angry expression on their face. They march through the alleyway, footfalls causing the puddles beneath their boots to splash. Sonic squints as he tries looking at them. It takes him a minute to figure out what they are wearing. This leads him to realize who they are. This is a conductor for a train. Based on the way they look at Sonic, they must be the conductor to the train he’s been trying to get on for weeks now.

Sonic opens his mouth to explain himself when he feels dull pain spread across the side of his face. He shuffles to the side out of surprise. His emerald eyes widen as they look back at the conductor. They are heaving with a fist prepared to strike Sonic once more. He lifts his hands to placate their anger, but they are far too livid to listen to reason. They, instead, hit Sonic a second time and throw in a kick to his shin for good measure. Sonic feels the pain, but compared to everything he’s felt in his life, this is practically nothing. Still, Sonic lands on the ground as he realizes how much the conductor wants to hurt him. Sonic doesn’t know if it’s patronizing or not to pretend he’s getting hurt, but he doesn’t want to make them feel bad when their chest is heaving with exertion and Sonic can barely feel the bruises blooming across his skin.

Tears fill the conductor’s eyes as they grab onto the fur on his chest. They squeeze it between their gloved paws. The tears slide down their face. Sonic stares wordlessly. The conductor lifts their gaze to Sonic, “Why are you still here? Why can’t you just leave?”

Sonic opens his mouth to explain that he wanted to get on the train but other people told him not to. He just makes a surprised noise as the conductor pulls at his fur and then shoves him harshly into the brick wall. They do this a few more times, trying to transform the sorrow on their face to anger. “You saw that paper on your door, didn’t you?! Why didn’t you do anything about it? You didn’t report me. You didn’t— What the fuck are you doing?”

The conductor releases Sonic’s fur. They rise unsteadily onto their feet. They kick him a few more times for good measure. When they are satisfied with what they’ve caused and not with what they’ve heard (for Sonic has been given no chance to speak), they seemingly deflate on themselves. They say something else, quiet and hard and filled with so much emotion that Sonic regrets being unable to comprehend it. Or maybe he does know exactly what they said. It was something along the lines of ‘get on the train,’ but Sonic somehow knows that wasn’t it. It was similar enough that Sonic’s mind must have construed it that way, though.

Sonic is left alone in the alleyway. He leans against the back wall. His body aches in minor, negligible ways. There are a few areas he may need to ice later, but it isn’t anything he won’t bounce back from. He’s fought harrowing villains with much worse injuries plaguing him, after all. Despite this, Sonic just sits on the ground. He knows it’s dirty. He can feel muddy water soaking into part of his fur. His gloves probably look like he’s dragged them through a storm, too. He should get up. He should continue walking around. He should chase after the conductor to either explain himself or demand answers for why his head is so jumbled up. He should make them say their last words one more time so his brain finally realizes what he’s being told.

He should, he should, he should, and yet—

And yet he does nothing. He is inactive, not exactly resting. It is very strange for him. It does not help his thoughts in the slightest as they move through his head with a speed and intensity that makes him nauseous. He refuses to puke, however, so he just folds his dirty gloves over his stomach. He shuts his eyes to lessen the amount of sensory details flooding him. This might have the opposite effect as his ears twitch with more sounds than he heard a moment before. No train horns or silence, thankfully, only Mobians calling out to each other or animals screeching or water pittering on the ground or tires squealing. The noises that define a city as an inhabited location.

“Mr. Sonic?” A voice much closer than the other noises. More personal, too. Sonic’s eyes flutter open as he recognizes the voice trying to grab his attention. He tilts his head to the side to see Cream standing at the entrance of the alleyway. She is holding Vanilla’s hand, and Cream has stopped her mother by digging her heels into the concrete sidewalk. Cream pulls at Vanilla’s hand. When the rabbit woman looks around the alleyway skeptically, Cream releases her mother’s hand. Vanilla makes a noise as she reaches for Cream. She misses, and Cream is bounding down the alleyway to look at the blue figure she knows to be her friend. Cream wears a troubled frown even as her eyes light up with recognition. She turns on her heel, cupping her paws around her mouth. “Mommy! Mommy! Come look! It really is Mr. Sonic!”

Regardless of if she believes Cream or not, Vanilla has to enter the alleyway to grab her daughter. She does, however, learn that her daughter was right when she sees Sonic sitting on the ground. Cream grabs her mother’s hand to pull her closer. Vanilla lets herself be led as she looks into Sonic’s eyes. Sonic stares right back at her with a half-smile. He doesn’t lift his hand from his lap as he moves it in the motion of a wave. Vanilla’s eyes flicker between Sonic and Cream. While Cream has enough sense to be a little concerned, Vanilla is downright upset by what she’s looking at. Sonic can’t say he’s surprised. He must be dirty and bruised right now, not even counting how sleepy and hungry he must also look.

“Sonic, dear, are you—” Vanilla starts. She stops herself with a glance at her daughter. Vanilla swallows thickly. She reaches her hands out to touch Sonic’s shoulders. She helps him onto his feet with a smile on her face. Sonic can tell that it’s forced, but he also thinks it’s good enough that Cream won’t notice. Sonic suspects he can tell only because he knows the smile well; he wore it a lot around Tails. “Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?”

“Really?” Cream asks. Her eyes widen with joy as she looks at her mother’s face. Vanilla doesn’t look away from Sonic even as she nods. Cream is entirely unbothered by this. She reaches forward to grab Sonic’s hand with both of her own. She squeezes and starts tugging Sonic with her. “Oh, please, Mr. Sonic! Please, please, please, please, please—”

“Sure,” Sonic says, cutting Cream off when he realizes that Vanilla won’t. Vanilla only wears a kind smile. Cream audibly cheers, leaping into the air. Her ears swing around for a moment to keep her airborne, but she lands right back on her feet after a few seconds. Cream grabs his hand and her mother’s hand. Cream leads them forward, babbling about random subjects. Sonic listens to her, pretending he doesn’t notice Vanilla staring at him with blatant concern.

—

Sonic lies on a dozen pillows. He stares at the sheet forming a ceiling for the pillow fort. The nightlights hanging from the actual ceiling shine through the thin sheet, creating fuzzy shapes that resemble clouds made from light on the light blue material. Sonic lifts his paw to the sheet. His fingertips brush against the material. He draws his paw away quickly to make sure he doesn’t knock the entire fort down. Cream spent so long on it that Sonic would hate to do that to her.

“Mommy said she’ll join when she gets finished with the dishes,” Cream informs Sonic as she enters her bedroom. Sonic tears his eyes away from the lights. Cream stops by her doorside. She stands on the tips of her toes to turn the light switch off. The room descends in partial darkness. Cream pushes off the wall. She races through the shadows to reach the pillow fort. She throws herself against the pillows, flopping onto her stomach. She makes a quiet noise, but she doesn’t look to be in pain as she crawls toward the pillows where Sonic is lying. She grabs onto the comforter and a stuffed animal as she settles into the space where she’ll be sleeping for the night.

“I would have done the dishes,” Sonic murmurs. He doesn’t like doing the dishes, of course. He hates water, and he isn’t the biggest fan of cleaning. Still, he ate Vanilla’s cooking at her dinner table, and now he’s staying the night at her house. Sure, he’s only staying here because saying no to Cream is as difficult as saying no to Tails is, but Sonic is still abusing the woman’s kindness. He should do more to justify his staying here for a night.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Sonic. Mommy likes doing the dishes when she has that funny look on her face,” Cream tells him, her voice growing quiet like it correlates with the dimness of the room. Cream reaches a paw out to poke the space between Sonic’s eyes. His focus centralizes on her. “She kinda looks like that.”

Sonic’s lips twitch with a smile. He, unfortunately, has some idea what Cream is talking about. Sonic knows a few people who clean when they’re stressed. He isn’t one of those people, though he’s starting to get the appeal. Before his set departure, Sonic was cleaning the entire house to make things easier on Tails. Sonic won’t say he’s joined the ranks of people who like doing it, but he does think having something to do with his hands is comforting when his thoughts are being pulled into a million different directions. Cleaning also takes less focus than reading does, so Sonic might try it out again when his feelings spiral out of his control.

“Mr. Sonic?” Cream asks. Sonic hums in response. Cream doesn’t wait for a further response as she asks, “Are you still going on your trip?”

Sonic’s lips pull down into a frown. His eyes clear as he looks at Cream. The edges of her features are blurred by the low lighting, but Sonic can tell that she’s saddened right now. “How do you know about that, kiddo?”

“Mommy and Mr. Vector said you were going on a trip,” Cream explains. Her body shimmies as she gets comfortable in her position in the pillow fort. “You can’t go on the trip.”

“Why not?” Sonic asks. He immediately regrets asking. He was only trying to give Cream the opportunity to keep talking, but he realizes once the words leave his lips that they are coated in emotions too heavy for a child to hear. Sonic looks away from Cream. He puts a hand over the side of his face. He needs to get his act together. Cream doesn’t know anything. She’s only repeating what she’s heard. Sonic needs to remember that, and he needs to make sure that his voice and words reflect this understanding.

“You still haven’t gone on an adventure with me!” Cream petulantly says. She crosses her arms over her chest, though her anger loses some of the effect when her stuffed animal is caught up in this action. It looks like she’s hugging it close rather than trying to look at Sonic sternly. “Mommy didn’t tell me, but I know your trip is going to take a long time. You promised to take me on an adventure.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” Sonic whispers. He had forgotten about that. The memories come back to him in pieces. Cream wore a similar expression that day, too, before he promised her that they would go on an adventure together. He wanted her to get a little older, just enough that he wouldn’t feel so guilty dragging her into what would most likely become mortal danger. When the nights are cold and long, Sonic feels guilt for bringing Tails into this life when he was so young. It isn’t all the time, of course, and Sonic really is proud of Tails. It’s just when the kit climbs into Sonic’s bed after a dreadful nightmare that Sonic gets the feeling that for all of their lives, he’s just been tying a noose around Tails’ neck.

“You did!” Cream nods firmly. If Sonic wasn’t remembering his promise, he would have thought she was lying with how adamantly she’s trying to convince him. “You can’t go on your trip unless you take me with you.”

“I can’t do that,” Sonic immediately says with a panic in his voice that startles them both. Sonic swallows. He tries wearing a calm expression, and his voice somehow follows suit. “This trip isn’t like my other ones. It isn’t really an adventure. It’s more like… There’s a train that I have to get on. It’s been following me around. I want to get on it, but my friends and your mommy don’t want me to. They really wouldn’t like you getting on the train.”

“A train? I saw one of those in my book! But they don’t follow people, silly. They follow the tracks,” Cream explains to him with a giggle. Sonic chuckles alongside her. Her words, however, scratch against his mind like sandpaper. Why did he think a train was following him? Cream’s right; they don’t follow people. “What does your train look like, Mr. Sonic?”

Sonic shakes his head. He pulls himself away from his thoughts to look at Cream. He takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes, trying to picture the train in his mind’s eye. “Well… It looks like a normal train. The top is black… or, a dark blue, actually… Maybe even purple. Dozens of tiny, white lights cover the top. The bottom is definitely black, but there are sometimes flashes of white. The stairs are dark brown. Hard. With tiny flecks of green popping up from it.”

When Sonic opens his eyes, Cream is frowning at him. “The train in my book doesn’t look like that.”

Sonic shrugs. “It’s a special train. Probably why it follows me around.”

“Not fair. I want a magic train to follow me, too,” Cream huffs, burying her face into the head of her stuffed animal.

Sonic chuckles. “No… You don’t. It isn’t that fun.”

Cream looks at him with a complicated expression. Eventually, she sighs. “If you say so, Mr. Sonic. But you can’t get on your train until you take me on an adventure! You promised, remember?”

“I did promise,” Sonic confirms. He thought he’d taken care of all the business he needed to before leaving, but it seems he has one last obligation to fulfill before he can get on. “I’ll take you on that adventure soon. But no more of this mister business. I’m Sonic to you, little missy.”

Cream giggles. She shoots forward like a viper instead of a bunny. Her arms wrap around his chest, leaving her stuffed animal between them. She moves her face to the space underneath his chin. This is Tails’ personal favorite spot, so Sonic’s body moves of its own accord to hold onto Cream. She sinks into his embrace with a pleased sound. “Thank you, m— Sonic.” She yawns. “I’m going to sleep. Tell Mommy I love her and goodnight when she comes back. Oh, and goodnight to you, too, Sonic!”

Sonic hums in response. Absentmindedly, he moves his hand over the fur on the back of Cream’s head, another habit Tails instilled in him. Sonic’s lips pull down with a frown. He’s been thinking about his brother too much lately. Tails is fine right now. He’s having his own adventures independent of Sonic. He’s learning about the world and gaining confidence in himself. If Sonic truly did tie a noose around his neck, Tails is shedding that rope right now. Sonic doesn’t need to think about him so much.

“Oh,” A voice calls out. Sonic turns his attention toward the doorway. Vanilla covers her mouth with one paw. A first-aid kit rests underneath her other arm. She smiles warmly at Sonic and Cream as she pulls her hand away. Sonic looks down at Cream. She fell asleep at some point while Sonic was thinking about his younger brother. Sonic tries not to feel melancholic as he forces his eyes to return to Vanilla. She is gesturing for him to follow her. Sonic glances at the first-aid kit. He doesn’t need it, but he also doesn’t want to argue with her right now with the room so dim and Cream asleep.

Sonic slips out of her grasp with the same ease he slips out of Tails’ grasp. Fortunately, Cream doesn’t hold on nearly as tight as that little kit does (not so little anymore, is he, Sonic?). Sonic rises from the pillow fort. Vanilla takes him back to the living room. It is mostly clean and homely. There are a few toys left on the ground. Vanilla hurriedly puts them away in a box beside the couch. She sinks into the cushion. She pats the space right beside her. Sonic, instead, sits on the edge of the coffee table. Vanilla doesn’t make any sort of face about it. She instead looks into his eyes. She speaks quietly as if Cream is still in the room with them, “May I touch you? I promise that I will only look at your bruises.”

Sonic could argue. He probably should since these bruises are nothing. Most will be healed by the morning even if Sonic doesn’t do anything. Sonic knows this fact more than most, so he doesn’t understand why he puts his arm in Vanilla’s awaiting grasp. He hates the way she worries about him constantly, yet he actively sits here while she gives him that look that he wishes he could just call pity and be done with it. But it’s not pity. It’s certainly similar, but there’s more empathy there. It isn’t understanding, but there’s a desperation for it there. Sonic doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life to earn that kind of look from Vanilla but no one else. 

Would it be better if Vanilla didn’t look at him like that, or if she wasn’t the only one?

For the first time that day, Sonic hears it. He jerks with surprise. His eyes land on the window behind the other couch to his and Vanilla’s side. The blinds are shut and the curtains are closed, but Sonic really feels like he can see the train pulling into a nearby station. He doesn’t know how he’ll find it when Vanilla has all the drawers locked, but he’ll figure it out. If he wants to, at least, but he feels uneasy as he listens to the horn blasting through the residential area.

“What do you hear?” Vanilla asks somberly. She raises her eyes from the wrist she’s bandaging to his face. She looks at him with a more extreme version of her usual look, but she also looks softer. She doesn’t want to stop him; she wants to understand him.

“A train horn,” Sonic answers. It takes considerable effort, but he pulls his eyes away from the closed window to look at her face. If he’s going to talk to her, he should meet her eyes. “The train is back.”

“You’ve heard this train for a few weeks now, yes?”

“Yeah…. I, um… There was a paper on my door. I had just been at the store. I kept letting food go bad because I kept forgetting to eat without Tails or Amy to remind me. I was a little upset about wasting so much food when I saw it. The ticket… I wanted to ignore it, but… It started raining later. I panicked. I brought it inside. I thought that since I did that, I might as well do what the paper told me to do,” Sonic explains. It’s so hard to put it into words. Sonic feels like there are two recollections fighting for dominance in his mind. One set of memories is fake, and the other one is real. Sonic wishes he knew which was which, but maybe talking about it will help him. It can’t do any more damage to him than puking everything he eats and listening to horns instead of sleeping and thinking until he has a headache does.

“What did the ticket tell you to do?” Vanilla’s words are patient and slow. She continues wrapping his arm from the bruise he sustained earlier.

“It told me to—” Sonic cuts himself off. It told him to do what the conductor told him to do earlier. Why can’t Sonic say it aloud?

“Shh… It’s okay. I understand it’s a little difficult for you to say. Do you want to talk about something else?” Vanilla whispers, lifting a hand to touch the side of his face. She is smiling at him. Sonic opens his mouth. Instead of words, an odd noise comes out. Sonic slaps his hands over his mouth. Vanilla’s eyes widen with surprise, but she quickly bounces back. Her face melts with concern as she leans forward. She opens her arms for him, and that is all it takes for him to pitch forward. More of those odd noises come out. Sonic barely recognizes them because he doesn’t know the last time he’s cried. He thinks he forced himself to stop doing that when he suddenly had someone looking up to him for reassurance and guidance. Tears do not provide that. The Hero of Mobius cannot cry, so Sonic doesn’t, either.

He is now, but he doesn’t feel much like the Hero of Mobius right now. He feels like a little kid grappling with things larger than himself. Little kids can’t do much in such a big, scary world, but they can cry. They can sob and sob. Usually, it gets them nowhere, but Sonic is starting to feel better as his sobs softly transform into wet breaths and little whimpers.

Vanilla holds him through it all. He isn’t a huge fan of touch, but once he pushes past his aversion and the burning sensation against his quills, Sonic sinks completely into her arms. He never knew his mother, so he doesn’t have any experience with this, but he really thinks this is a nice experience. Maybe this is why Tails always liked to curl up with him after a nightmare. It’s better than Sonic thought it would be. Not enough to convince him to touch people more often, but he’ll think twice before denying Tails or Vanilla a hug from this point forward.

When Sonic finishes crying, he opens his eyes. He remains in Vanilla’s arms as he pulls back slightly. He is extremely glad there aren’t any mirrors in the living room because he must look like a mess. It’s hard to tell when Vanilla looks at him with such a soft expression. It is the kindness in her eyes that draws a confession from Sonic’s lips. “I don’t think I want to get on the train.”

Vanilla’s eyes widen. Her lips part soundlessly. She says nothing, but she does smile at him. She moves her hands to cup his face. She nods at him. Sonic’s arms fall to his sides, and he sinks to the floor with a sudden weakness. It stretches throughout his body. He feels so tired. His mind doesn’t want to think. His heart doesn’t want to feel. And his body doesn’t want to be awake. The horn has disappeared, and Sonic thinks he’s actually going to sleep tonight. Especially when Vanilla takes him back to the pillow fort after she’s finished bandaging him. Sonic settles on one side of Cream, and Vanilla settles on the other, and for the first time in weeks, Sonic actually sleeps.

—

Sonic arches a brow as he pushes open the ajar front door to his house. Before he can think of what to do against the home invaders, he sees the ‘invaders’ moving around his living room and dining room area. Charmy is standing at Sonic’s calendar hanging on the wall. Espio is sitting on the edge of the couch, flipping through some files. Vector freezes near the mud room, halting his motion from the dining room to somewhere in the living room or even the hallway beyond it. All three members of Team Chaotix stop what they are doing to look at him. Sonic puts a hand on his hip. The three individuals share a look with one another. Vector coughs into his fist. “You did give us a key.”

Sonic has no argument against that. He gave them a key to return to Tails, but he supposes he never said they couldn’t enter his home. Sonic, personally, doesn’t care, but he will be upset if they touched anything that belongs to Tails. He is a little upset about his perfectly clean house being messed up, but looking around, it seems like the house is still clean. Other than the files on the table Espio is looking through, they haven’t done anything.

“Since you’re here, come over here,” Vector tells him. He waves Sonic over to the living room. Vector nudges Espio’s shoulder until the chameleon sighs and walks away with the files. He also takes the letters Sonic left for his friends. The letters meant for the detectives have been opened. Sonic can’t be too upset since he didn’t tell them they couldn’t read something so clearly marked for them.

Espio joins Charmy near the calendar. They start discussing the letters and whatever is inside Espio’s files while Vector flops down on the couch. Sonic sits on the footrest in front of the plush chair. Vector turns to him. Sonic frowns. “Is this an interrogation?”

“I prefer ‘interview,’ but call it whatever you want. I’m just going to ask some questions. I need you to respond as honestly as possible,” Vector tells him. “Let’s get the facts straight first: you came to the Chaotix Detective Agency to ask us to deliver a key to Tails when he returns from his adventures because you were going on a long trip. You overpaid us but insisted that you didn’t need the money. You also said that you were going on a train which is suspicious because there aren’t any trains nearby. Also, you going on a train? Definitely suspicious. A master detective such as myself felt that this situation was… off, so we did some light investigation. Nothing illegal, mind you. Ever since that one lady, we’ve made sure to do everything by the book.”

Sonic doesn’t know who the lady is, but he appreciates the detectives not resorting to criminal behavior. While he is less appreciative of their investigations into him, he also isn’t upset by it. Neutral, really, though that’s probably only because he’s been a ‘hero’ for a long time now. He’s seen so many articles about himself that people prying into his past and habits isn’t anything new.

“The local grocer said you’ve been frazzled for months now, but it really got bad roughly two months ago. From that point onward, your behavior was deemed unusual by the people you’ve encountered. The grocer says you’re buying less and less food. The owner of the flower shop listed all of the flowers you bought from them and just how much you’ve bought. Town hall was talking about a plot of land you bought in the cemetery. He couldn’t legally tell us anything, but there is someone anonymous who told us that a blue hedgehog may or may not be in the market for a stone that may or may not be related to graves. You’ve returned all your library books. Several people we talked to on the street mentioned that you completed any favors they were owed. All of that including the nature of the letters left on the desk made us detectives draw a few inferences. Since most of them were serious, we decided to tell Shadow specifically. This was mostly in case you were planning on murdering someone else since we couldn’t stop you, but, um… Well, we all know what happened there.”

Vector stops talking suddenly. He looks down at the ground. Espio and Charmy’s conversation falls into silence as they share a look with one another, trying not to look at Vector and Sonic. The blue hedgehog stares at the crocodile apathetically. “I’m not hearing any questions.”

Vector makes a noise that sounds like it wants to be a laugh, but he doesn’t actually find anything funny. “You want a question, then… What’s going on in your head?”

Sonic also makes a similar noise. “I have no idea. I’m just… confused, I think. I had a ticket. I keep hearing a horn. I see a train every time. I thought I was planning a trip and a party. I didn’t think I was…” 

I didn’t think it was a note telling me to kill myself. I didn’t think the horn and train were leading me to my death. I didn’t think I was planning my own suicide and funeral. 

Sonic wants to say that, but he doesn’t. He is, however, proud that he can, in some way, acknowledge it.

“That’s…” Vector starts. He doesn’t finish that thought. He changes the subject. “We’re trying to figure out who gave you that ticket— er, note in the first place. There might be something involved with them that caused all of this to happen. That, or…”

“My mind’s fucked.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Vector agrees.

“We will track down the jerk who did this!” Charmy calls out, floating over to Vector’s shoulder.

Espio steps to Vector’s other shoulder. “We will get you the help you need.”

“Thanks, guys. I’m really glad to have friends like you.”

Chapter Text

The wind is cold and sharp as it passes through his quills. It whistles stridently in his pinned ears, but it is no louder than the thrum of his blood and chaos energy throughout his body. He pumps his arms at his sides. He glides over the rough terrain of the wilderness. He enters and leaves pools of his namesake created from the moonlight passing through the leaves of the forest. His eyes rise to glance at the moon hanging in the sky in the gaps of the canopy. The natural satellite is accompanied by an artificial one, and their proximity reminds him that there is a specific place he needs to be.

Something is different about the faker, Shadow had thought as he finished checking out his book in the library. The thought lingered in his mind even when he accepted the answer that Sonic was always weird.

Shadow leaps over a fallen tree. When he lands on the other side, he is already propelling himself forward. For a moment, he suspects his air shoes will fail him, but they remain just above the ground. Shadow himself has a vague understanding of how they work, but he could care less about it as he tries to gain more speed with every stride forward.

“Look! Mr. Sonic gave me this gift when Mom and I saw him at the flower shop!” Cream had told him. She settled into his lap with her new book in her hands. While she could read, the book had a few words that were too big for her, so she pointed to them and made Shadow give her an explanation. She was particularly curious about the flowers in the bouquet Sonic apparently put together. The meanings behind the flowers were peculiar, and Shadow was left wondering if Sonic knew or if it was a coincidence. 

A trail of dark orange light follows in Shadow’s wake, momentarily illuminating the darkness of the forest. It casts long shadows against the tall trees. For a moment, it looks like dusk is still descending across the verdure, but Shadow leaves far faster than the sun sinking below the horizon would if it were a few hours prior. As it stands, night is dominating the land, and while Shadow has always felt more comfortable in these late hours, he finds himself unable to enjoy it for even a second as something tight nearly strangles him.

“He gave me all this stuff for free,” Rouge informed Shadow as she set the boxes down on the coffee table. Shadow watched with vague interest as she unboxed her new belongings. She continued talking about the trip Sonic was going on and the party he was throwing. She wanted Shadow and Omega to help her bake a cake for it. Her excitement dwindled as she admitted that there was something odd about Sonic’s behavior. He was talking about a train when he looked out the window, and he was talking about how he wanted to make things easier for Tails. Shadow didn’t have a response for her, and she didn’t press him for one. They left the subject in the dust.

Shadow breaks free from the forest. He looks around at the cleared fields. There is tall grass billowing in the wind. There are a few paths marked by footprints and dirt. A salty breeze enters Shadow’s nostrils, making his ears flick back and forth. He listens and looks, and eventually, he thinks he finds the right direction. He doesn’t think about it for a few more seconds as he speedily hovers through the final stretch of the journey.

“We need you to find him,” Espio, the Chaotix member Shadow can tolerate the most, asked as he shoved papers in Rouge’s hands. Shadow was going to deny the chameleon’s late-night request when Rouge dropped the papers on the ground. Shadow didn’t see them all, but a few key words caught his eye. He didn’t listen to Rouge and Espio’s conversation about the truth as he ran away. No, as he ran toward something. Someone. Sonic.

Sonic. The blue hedgehog stands at the edge of the cliff. The starry night sky stretches out above his head like a blue-black blanket covering the equally dark ocean. The white foam caused by the crashing waves seems to glow in the moonlight appearing and disappearing in accordance with the clouds moving across the sky. Sonic’s eyes are almost as dark as the shadow stretching out behind him as he stares at the distant, barely visible horizon. He holds a leather suitcase in one paw that tips his body weight, and he grasps at the open air with his other paw.

“Sonic!” Shadow yells as he skids to a stop, leaving a trail in the exposed dirt layered thinly on top of the rocky cliff. At the call of his name, Sonic turns around. His balance is extremely off, most likely due to his suitcase. As Sonic stabilizes— somehow getting impossibly closer to the edge— Sonic looks at Shadow. His irises are muted. He looks composed, a twinge of surprise and happiness around the edges. It is unusual, sure, but it doesn’t match the gravity of the situation. Shadow takes a few steps forward, letting his shoes create half-obscured footprints. He reaches his paw out. His instinct is to grab Sonic immediately, but he acknowledges the short distance between Sonic and the edge. Any quick movements on his end will cause Sonic to step back, and that— that wouldn’t be good.

Shadow freezes when Sonic’s countenance changes. In an instant, a smile stretches across Sonic’s face. It is as bright and brilliant as it always is. Although it doesn’t literally give off any light, Shadow— like everyone else, he suspects— can almost be convinced that it turns night into day simply by existing. Sonic moves the arm not holding his suitcase high above his head, rising precariously on the tips of his toes. “Shadow! Are you here to see me off? That’s awfully nice of you! I didn’t know you had it in you. I guess Rouge was right when she said you were just a softie at heart.”

The words would cause a reaction if not for the circumstances surrounding the two of them. Shadow ignores the comments in their entirety as he asks, so painfully slow and careful, so unlike him and Sonic both, “Sonic, step away from the edge.”

Sonic’s smile drops into a confused frown. His brows knit together around the space between his eyes. Sonic glances over his shoulder. Shadow immediately starts rushing toward him, but he stops himself when Sonic snaps his gaze back to Shadow. Sonic arches a brow at Shadow. “I have to go on the train, Shads. How else am I going to go on my trip? See, I have a ticket and everything.”

Sonic moves a paw behind his back. He sticks his tongue out in concentration. When he finally pulls something out, victory spreads across his expression. He unfolds the paper with one paw. He turns it around to show Shadow. His countenance doesn’t change for a second, but Shadow’s face contorts with confusion and— dare he say— genuine concern. Sonic’s ‘ticket’ is a piece of paper with the words ‘KILL YOURSELF’ written in big, bold, and red letters. Shadow doesn’t know what’s happening. Maybe he should have asked Espio a few more questions. Then again, he would have been too late if he had done that.

And really, it doesn’t matter why any of this is happening. Shadow can worry about it once he gets Sonic to step away from the damn edge.

Without any prompting, Sonic flinches suddenly. This causes him to stumble slightly to the side, letting his suitcase drag him down a few more paces. A wince spreads across one side of his face. He reaches the paw holding the paper to his ear. He covers it for several long moments. Shadow’s ears twitch, trying to hear whatever Sonic is hearing. Unfortunately, all he hears are the waves beating against the shoreline far below them. It is a little harsher than before, warning Shadow about what could happen should he let Sonic take that one— just one— step back.

Sonic makes an odd noise. Shadow thinks it’s a laugh of some sort, but he doesn’t understand what’s funny about this situation. “You hear that? It means I have to get on the train now. Thanks for coming to see me off, though. Really, you’re a good friend. Or rival, if you still want to deny our friendship.”

Shadow can’t help but wonder if that’s what this is about, but he quickly silences that thought. All of his thoughts, actually, as Sonic starts to turn toward the ocean. Shadow manages to take three steps before Sonic stops. His eyes whirl around to stare at Shadow. Glare, actually, as something completely somber echoes in the hollow space between Sonic’s iris and pupil. There isn’t an expression on his face, and Shadow never realized how emotional Sonic always looks until he can’t find a trace of anything gracing his features.

“Take the next train,” Shadow demands. He doesn’t know what trains have to do with anything, but he thinks it’s some sort of… metaphor for death? Hallucination? Whatever it is, Sonic keeps talking about getting on a train and going on a trip and planning a party, but none of that matches up with what he’s looking at right now.

“I can’t do that. I don’t know when the next train is coming. Plus, I want to start my trip as soon as possible. I’ve taken care of everything. You don’t have to worry. There will be nothing for everyone to do except show up to the party. Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just for the people who care… Care enough to gather, anyway. We can’t talk about this right now. I really have to go before the train leaves,” Sonic argues, gesturing vaguely to the nothingness behind him. 

“Sonic.” Shadow can feel the panic rising in his body. It tastes so much like anger. It feels so bitterly like annoyance. But it isn’t that. Sonic is going to die. More than that, he’s going to kill himself. Shadow doesn’t know how to stop that. He can fight machines. He can shoot a gun or ride a motorcycle. He can complete whatever mission GUN gives him. But how in the world is he supposed to convince someone to live? How does he walk someone off a ledge when they don’t even know they are standing there? How is Shadow, of all people, supposed to save Sonic, the Hero of Mobius and Savior of Earth? Shadow hates problems he cannot solve. He hates inevitabilities and choiceless situations. Shadow, more than anything, hates when he doesn’t understand, and while he’s never been particularly fond of never understanding Sonic, he has never been so angry with himself for not trying harder before.

Shadow doesn’t know what does it. He doesn’t know which word that was uttered or which expression that was shown or which tone that was heard, but something causes Sonic to hesitate. The blue hedgehog looks back and forth between the horizon and Shadow. He sways from side to side, letting the suitcase drag him down before pulling it right back up. He sighs heavily. Sonic angles his head toward Shadow, letting it loll against his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll just catch the next train. You’ll have to pay for that ticket, though.”

Sonic sets his suitcase on the ground. He shuffles back a few paces as he turns to face the moonlight. As Sonic’s arm rises to hold the moon, Shadow is already halfway across the narrow slab of rock hanging over the ocean. Shadow whirls Sonic around. The blue hedgehog’s eyes widen slightly. Shadow feels his fingers close into a fist and vitriol coat his tongue, but he doesn’t start a fight or an argument. He wraps his arms around Sonic’s body, keeping the hedgehog’s arms held against his sides.

“If you wanted a hug, I could have given you one.” Sonic squirms in Shadow’s hold. Shadow tightens his grip, refusing to let Sonic go now that he finally has him away from the edge.

“I’m not hugging you. I’m restraining you.” It is technically the truth. Shadow isn’t trying to hug Sonic. He really does want to restrain the hedgehog. He also— and he isn’t going to admit this to anyone— is trying to calm down the rising panic by proving that Sonic is alive. He hears a heartbeat. He feels a rising and falling chest. Both are evidence that Sonic has not pitched himself into the ocean even though everyone knows that Sonic hates the ocean— has a fear of it, even.

“Restraining me? From what?” He sounds so innocent, Shadow ruefully thinks.

Shadow sighs, unable to express his frustrations in another way. A heaviness enters his body, and his head drops to Sonic’s chest. More proof that he’s alive, and maybe it’s comforting in other ways, too. It certainly gives Shadow the courage to ask, “Did you actually see a train?”

“What?”

“Did you actually see a train?” Shadow demands. He sounds angry. He thinks he might feel that way, too. But there’s a concern embedded so deep inside of him. It was born the moment he realized how terrible death truly was— how definitive and unfair. It’s hard enough that the people Shadow cares about are going to die; what gives them the right to end it all earlier than it’s supposed to? “Did you actually think you were planning a party?”

“I… don’t get it. Yes? The train just left, Shads. And it’s more of a gathering than a party, but… well, yes, I was planning it. I didn’t think I was. I just… was,” Sonic answers, confusion permeating each of his declarations. 

Shadow does not cry. He’s shed a tear maybe once or twice, but he has never sobbed or whimpered. So, in place of that, Shadow releases another heavy breath that he wishes could hold all of his negative emotions concerning the situation and the details he is not privy to. This release also makes his grip loosen. Strangely, part of him feels scared that Sonic is going to walk away again— walk towards the edge. But Sonic, for some reason, moves his arms around Shadow, and finally, they are actually hugging. Shadow doesn’t mind. They aren’t going anywhere any time soon, anyway.

—

Sonic stares at the ceiling. The comforter wraps loosely around his legs. He holds a throw pillow against his chest, wrapping his arms around it. He should be falling asleep soon. He’s fairly tired, after all, and the mattress is comfortable underneath him. He shuffles on it a little to prove this point, feeling his quills spread out across the side. Everything is fine, then, but he is still, for some reason, awake. Enough to keep his eyes open, too. He wonders if he’s more exhausted than sleepy. That would not be good for several reasons including the long day he’s going to have tomorrow and the number of people that will be concerned if he walks around with an iota of energy from sleep to carry him forward.

Sonic’s attention snaps to the side as he sees motion in his peripheral vision. It is a crisp reminder of the specifics of his situation. Instead of his own house, Sonic returned to Rouge and Shadow. After coming to fully realize that what was happening to him was dangerous, he thought it would be best to stay with someone. They accepted him as easily as they did the first two nights, but there was one change that immediately occurred. Sonic was to take Shadow’s bed. He gave a cursory argument about it, sure, but he lost that argument. He’s lost several arguments since he came to this apartment, but he supposes they are all for the best. He doubts Rouge and Shadow want to slowly kill him in the same way his mind does, anyway.

The motion in particular that caused Sonic to look to the side comes into focus immediately. Shadow is sitting in the chair at his desk. His arms are crossed over his chest. He leans back in the chair with both feet firmly planted on the floor beneath the desk. His eyes were closed, but they slowly open after Shadow jerks back very slightly. If not for the minimalist approach to the room’s design or the singular lamp illuminating the Shadow’s silhouette, Sonic wouldn’t have seen the flinch (for that is what it was, regardless of what the Ultimate Lifeform would say). 

Shadow stares at the desk in front of him with the kind of confusion that everyone who suddenly wakes up has. The GUN-issued laptop is asleep on the desk’s surface, surrounded by one stack of papers and a black pen. Shadow moves his paw to the pen. He sets his fingers on it without picking it up. Sonic draws Shadow’s attention to him by asking, “Do you want the bed to take a nap?”

“I don’t need to sleep,” Shadow immediately replies. It is an automatic response, and it is followed by Shadow glancing at Sonic curiously. “Why are you awake?”

“Maybe you don’t need to sleep, but you literally just were. It also looks like you had a bad dream. It’s probably because you slept in that chair. I don’t care if you’re the Ultimate Lifeform or not, no one wants a crick in their neck,” Sonic informs Shadow matter-of-factly. He turns to lie on his side, keeping the small pillow against his chest. He squeezes it tighter as Shadow’s gaze remains on him. Since the only light source is behind Shadow’s turned head, his face is shrouded in darkness. Sonic can still feel those carmine irises on him, though.

“It was not a bad dream,” Shadow corrects him.

Sonic rolls his eyes. “It was an unpleasant illusion your mind conjured, then. We can argue semantics all you want, but after you answer my question.”

“You have yet to answer mine.”

Sonic avoids eye contact with Shadow. He shrugs one of his shoulders, the one not pressed into the mattress. “I just can’t sleep. I’m figuring it out. Now, do you want the bed back or not?”

“You need to rest,” Shadow shakes his head.

Sonic scoots over to the side of the bed. His quills brush against the cold wall. Sonic pulls an uncomfortable expression. He makes it disappear before Shadow can question it. He grabs the comforter hanging around his legs. He pulls it higher. When it touches his shoulders, he raises it to provide Shadow a spot. Sonic smiles generously at him. “I can still rest. You can, too. Don’t worry nothing is going to happen to me even if you aren’t there to watch me 24/7.”

Shadow grimaces at the words. Sonic only feels a little bad about saying it, but he’s learned over the past few weeks that rejecting reality is not good for him. Sonic has been conducting behavior that would cause people to worry about him, and Shadow has been surveilling him like Sonic’s a target on one of his GUN missions. Due to the very nature of the circumstances, they aren’t entirely acting healthy.

Shadow rises from his chair. He pushes it underneath his desk. He closes his laptop and slides the pen to hide behind it. Shadow even turns off the lamp. Darkness floods the room. Sonic squints, trying to adjust to the darkness. Without the lamp on, Sonic can see other light sources. They are all faint, but his eyes fixate on them one at a time. He also focuses on his other senses. He feels Shadow grab the blanket. Instead of lying beside Sonic, he wraps the blue hedgehog tightly in the blanket like a small child getting bundled in thick winter clothes. Afterwards, Shadow puts a pillow against the headboard. He sits on the mattress, leaning against the pillow and wood. He folds his arms back over his chest. He straightens his legs to be parallel with Sonic’s body. He looks at the darkness in front of him with eyes that only need a single speck of light to see everything. Another perfection of the Ultimate Lifeform.

“It was not an illusion.” Shadow’s voice is softer in the darkness. Sonic doesn’t know if that’s actually because of the darkness or if it’s because his voice isn’t competing against his facial expression. It wouldn’t be the first time Shadow’s expression and tone did not match. “I was revisiting the experience of finding you at the cliff.”

“Ah,” Sonic dumbly responds. As difficult as it is, Sonic brings his knees to his chest, letting them squish the pillow instead of his arms. With the new freedom, Sonic tucks one arm underneath his head. The other one reaches into the darkness. Shadow’s paw finds his paw before he can find Shadow’s, but Sonic doesn’t mind as he squeezes comfortingly. “I remember that… For what it’s worth, I really did see a train. I thought I was standing at the station. Maybe I noticed the ocean and the edge, but I didn’t… really process it. I just saw the train. I heard the horn blaring directly in my ears. What did you see, Shads?”

There is a moment of silence. Sonic fears Shadow is going to tell him to go to sleep. He even thinks Shadow might lie to him. But the ebony hedgehog doesn’t. He only takes the moment to compose himself and his answer. “You acted as you usually do when I first arrived. You were standing right at the edge but you… smiled and frowned like you do in regular conversation. I did not know what to make of it. I did not know what to do. I could only ask repeatedly for you to not follow your…”

“Delusions? Hallucinations? Phantom? All are appropriate words,” Sonic laughs self-deprecatingly. When the laughter leaves him, Sonic feels close to crying. He takes a deep breath. This time, Shadow squeezes his paw. A tear slips from one eye, but a half-smile appears on his lips. He feels just as conflicted on the inside. His words, however, eventually come streaming out. “You know what I think? I think that my brain has been breaking for a long time. Maybe it’s all the untreated concussions. Maybe it’s all the mind alteration that some villains have put me through. Maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve been running and fighting and saving the world since I was a hoglet. But my head has never been screwed on quite right. The Starfall Islands were just the point of no return. They told me using Cyber corruption would damage me, but I used it, anyway. I used it, and when it left me, it must have shattered something that cannot be fixed. The situation was definitely exacerbated by my friends leaving. Without them, I couldn’t eat or sleep all that much, and well… Look where we are now. Not that I blame them, of course. I think we still would have ended up here at some point or another.”

Sonic shuffles closer to Shadow. He soaks in the warmth of the other hedgehog. Shadow slips his paw from Sonic’s grasp to set it on the side of Sonic’s head, fingers sinking into the fur. Sonic smiles softly to himself at the undeniably kind act. “Why is it a train, I wonder? I was thinking about that for a while. Why a trip? Why a party? Why doesn’t my brain just convince me that we want to kill ourselves? Why jump through all these hoops? I don’t think I have it figured out, but trains represent freedom. Maybe that’s the only way my brain could get me to go through with this. Give me exactly what I want. That is, of course, if my brain really is the issue. Maybe some supervillain did this to me. Maybe I got some parasite from the Starfall Islands. It would suck if that were the case.” 

Sonic yawns. He closes his eyes. He moves his arms back around his pillow. He sets his head directly in Shadow’s lap, not awake enough to be surprised that Shadow allows this. “It doesn’t matter what or who did this. I’m going to fix it. Or, well, I’m going to stop getting in my own way. I’m going to see a doctor or a therapist or something. I’m going to start eating and sleeping when I’m supposed to. I’m going to get better.”

“You will not be alone,” Shadow murmurs. Sonic smiles at the declaration as he finally falls asleep.

—

Sonic hovers in the doorway. One paw presses against the frame while the other one hangs limply at his side. He flexes his fingers. His quills droop to the ground. He takes a deep breath, feeling it rattle inside his lungs. The sunlight glows around his silhouette, splashing against his white gloves and blue fur. He feels the breeze brush against his back. The smell of disinfectant from inside the house mixes with the natural musk of the great outdoors. Sonic enjoys one infinitely more than the other, but that isn’t the reason why he hesitates to step inside the house.

No, the reason is sitting at the dining room table. Even sitting in a chair (or perhaps because he’s sitting in it and Sonic remembers what he used to look like in one of them), Tails looks a little taller. His fur is a shade or two darker. Even his eyes are a touch wiser, but that could be Sonic’s subjective opinion. It could also be because of the solemn expression on his face or the fact that he’s sitting in the darkness. His paws move papers and folders out of the way as soon as he finishes reading them. Sonic doesn’t need to read the scribbled words on the cardboard box’s surface to know what his younger brother is reading. It really doesn’t take a genius when Tails’ namesakes are swaying wildly behind him like orange flames.

Sonic’s weight slides forward. He doesn’t know if it’s on purpose or not, but his shoes touch against the creaky plank in the mudroom. Tails’ head whips upward. Sonic tries not to wince as he meets his brother’s baby blue eyes. Tails freezes, his twin-tails going completely still behind him. Sonic finds himself in the same position. Neither of them speak. They only stare at each other. Sonic feels sheepishness overtake his expression as if he’s embarrassed about something. Tails, in contrast, only looks sadder by the second.

Sonic closes the door behind him. He slips out of his shoes. Each movement is carefully observed by Tails. Sonic swallows thickly at the blatant attention. Tails has always given Sonic his full attention, but this feels different from all those other times. There isn’t admiration or awe in his gaze, only concern and confusion. The one through-line, however, is the unfaltering love, and Sonic feels some comfort in knowing that Tails still loves his older brother despite learning that Sonic isn’t as infallible as everyone hopes a hero will be.

When they sit in the dining room together, they usually sit across from each other. This time, Sonic purposefully pulls back the chair beside Tails. Sonic winces at the rough scratching noise as wood scrapes against wood. Sonic plops onto the seat. He doesn’t pull it closer to the table. He turns to sit sideways, giving Tails his full attention. Tails moves his eyes to the papers held in his paws. He focuses on them, and Sonic focuses on Tails, and neither of them know how to start this conversation.

“Rouge was the one to call me. She told me there was something happening with you. Since she told me about it, I knew it was dire, but she wouldn’t tell me anything else. She just said you would explain yourself,” Tails starts, explaining why he’s at the house when he should be on his adventure right now. Sonic feels a spike of guilt stab his stomach. All that work to make things easier for Tails, and he feels as if he’s failed spectacularly in that regard. “I was waiting for you when I saw this box. Apparently, the Chaotix Detective Agency has been investigating something in our house. I wasn’t going to look at it, but I was curious. I told myself to look at one paper. I… didn’t stop there.”

Tails gestures to the papers spreading across the table. His tails are moving around wildly once more, a direct consequence of trying to keep his voice so steady. Tails paws fall into his lap. He stares down at the edge of the table, though his eyes are glazed over. “What happened, Sonic?”

Tails turns his attention to Sonic. There are tears brimming in those baby blue eyes. Tails’ voice shakes as he continues begging for answers. “Why did you— What were you thinking— Why didn’t you tell me? What is going on, Sonic? Do you actually want to—”

When his brother’s words fail him, Sonic finds that his own muscle memory does not. He reaches his arms forward to grab onto Tails. He pulls the kit into his lap. No matter how old he gets, Tails will always be Sonic’s— his younger brother, the person he’s meant to protect, an extension of his heart that walks freely in the world. Sonic settles his chin on top of Tails’ head, letting the kit cry into his chest. Sonic keeps his arms around Tails through every hiccuping sob. He provides as much comfort as he can in this moment. It would be too easy to fade back into the memories of their youth when they sat in similar positions after Tails’ had a nightmare or Sonic got injured, but Sonic anchors himself to this moment. In some ways, this is Tails’ worst nightmare and Sonic’s worst injury.

When Tails finally settles down, Sonic pulls away from. Sonic’s own eyes have tears, but he doesn’t let them fall. Sonic just puts his paws against the side of Tails’ head. He holds his younger brother upright, making sure they never lose eye contact with each other. Tails’ lips tremble. Sonic does his best to smile at his brother. His fingers move through Tails’ fur, and finally, he finds a set of words that he prays to Gaia are right. “Do you remember when you made that scanner a few years ago? You wanted it to look for flickies or robots or something. Well, it was messed up, remember? It would only alert you about rocks because there was something wrong with it. But you fixed it. You made sure that it could find flickies when you sent it into the forest.”

Tails nods in between Sonic’s paws. Sonic’s smile widens as he connects with his brother for a memory. The tears in his eyes are warmer now, though, the memory slashing through Sonic like a physical knife. “Well, my head is a lot like that right now. Other people see a cliff… or a knife… or a piece of paper that says I should kill myself. But I see a train. I see a train that comes and goes whenever it wants. I only know it’s there because its horn is so loud. I thought I was holding a ticket. I thought I was going on a trip. And I really thought I was planning a party for everyone. I didn’t realize what I was actually doing. But the others helped me see that something was wrong. That’s the first step to solving problems, isn’t it? Knowing that they exist. I’m going to get help, buddy. I’m going to figure out what is happening. I might not be able to fix it entirely, but trust me, I’m not going anywhere any time soon. You are stuck with me for at least another few decades. Your big brother isn’t going to leave you behind so easily.”

Tails pulls his head from Sonic’s head. He drops it back onto his brother’s chest, ignoring the wet spot he himself created. Sonic moves his arms around Tails’ shoulders, keeping him in place. Tails’ voice is quiet from exhaustion and tears. “It wouldn’t be easier for me, you know? I don’t care if you planned every detail of your funeral. It wouldn’t be easy for me without you with me. I don’t care about flowers or a clean house or even my adventure. I just want to know you’re okay.”

“I know, kiddo,” Sonic whispers, meaning it even without having to consider it for a moment longer. He shifts slightly in the chair. He brings his heels to the edge of the seat. He keeps Tails secure between his thighs and chest. His wrists fold over another behind Tails’ back. “Thank you for trying to understand. I know this is really scary for you. I didn’t want to put this all on you, but… I also didn’t want to lie to you. If you have any questions, I’ll answer them as best I can.”

“Will you stay with me today?” Tails asks, both his arms and tails wrapping around Sonic to keep the hedgehog close.

“Of course,” Sonic promises. He has a feeling Tails is going to remain close to him for a while now. Sonic will figure out how to give Tails’ his life back starting tomorrow. Today, he thinks they both deserve it. “I love you more than you will ever know, Tails.”

“I think it’s about as much as I love you,” Tails wetly chuckles. He is on the verge of tears once more.

Sonic laughs and holds back his tears with him. “I definitely love you more.”

As the brothers laugh and cry and argue, Sonic feels like maybe everything is going to be alright. Eventually, at least.