Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes, it was hard to focus on what Doctor Whitlock was saying. Although she was often rather intuitive, some of her advice and insights tended to be way off the mark. It wasn't her fault, of course; she was lacking quite a lot of context, so sometimes her musings rang hollow.

"Sam? Did I lose you again?"

Stone hadn't realized his attention had wandered. He clears his throat and repositions, trying to ground himself. "I apologize. Long day."

Doctor Whitlock smiles, leaning back in her seat and resting her hands in her lap. "Tell me about it, then."

Stone breathes in deep through his nose. Today, he actually can talk about his day, because absolutely nothing extraordinary happened. He went to work at his mind-numbingly boring job, he stopped by the store on his way home to pick up groceries and laundry detergent, watched some TV while making lunch and prepping dinner, and then left with plenty of time to make his therapy appointment. Boring. Predictable.

"Sounds like a normal day to me," Doctor Whitlock says gently.

"I'm not used to normal," Stone admits.

Doctor Whitlock eyes Stone knowingly. "I know you've been struggling with change, there's no shame in that. Experiencing loss is one of the most traumatic changes a person can live through. But you're surviving, you got a fresh start. That's good, Sam. That's progress."

"It doesn't feel like progress," Stone says. "It feels like stagnation. I feel like I'm rotting here. I feel purposeless. And I can't stop thinking about all the things I could have done differently. I might have been able to save him if I just…" A painful lump lodges itself in Stone's throat, halting his self-deprecating monologue. It was still too difficult to talk about it. Robotnik's death was the primary reason Stone sought out therapy in the first place once he'd gotten settled in Norwich, but every time they touched on it, Stone lost his nerve. Even after six months, talking about it was like pouring salt into a wound that refused to heal.

Doctor Whitlock knows Stone well enough by now - or at least she knows Sam Brooktin, the alias he lives under here in Norwich - to know it's a touchy subject, but when Stone gives her openings to talk about, she usually jumps on it.

"What could you have done differently?" she gently challenges him. "Let's talk about it, Sam."

Stone isn't certain he wants to. He knows there's no point in mulling over the various what-ifs, but he can't help it. The whole situation is so impossible to talk about in a clinical setting it's almost laughable. No one could ever understand what happened, or what he truly lost.

"Nothing," Stone says finally. "There's nothing I could have done."

.

.

.

When the weather is nice - and even sometimes when it isn't - Stone likes to ride out to Trimingham Beach late at night and sit on the cliffs for a while. He still isn't certain why. All he knows for sure is that most nights his apartment starts feeling stuffy, like it's choking him, and he feels more at ease by the sea.

It's a balmy night tonight. The sea is calm, sloshing gently against the sand, and up on the cliffs there's a cool breeze blowing off the water, leaving a pleasant chill on Stone's skin. Stone sits with his knees drawn up, watching the lazy waves with what feels like a rock in his chest. It isn't unusual for his thoughts to get a little dark and broody this time of night, but tonight he feels especially scrambled.

Lately, he'd been wondering what the point of it all was. For years, he'd lived and breathed for Doctor Robotnik - a lifestyle he was fiercely proud of - but he'd never considered what life might be like without him. Years ago when Robotnik had been stranded on the mushroom planet, Stone kept the hope that Robotnik would find his way back to Earth. He devoted all his time and energy keeping the Mean Bean lab ready and waiting for the Doctor's return, and even though those eight months were difficult, he knew Robotnik would return. And he did, of course. Robotnik is indestructible, he's a certifiable mad genius.

Then there was the incident with the master emerald and the giant robot - Stone and the Doctor's badniks snatched Robotnik from certain death when Sonic defeated him. Even a space hedgehog with God-like powers couldn't kill Doctor Robotnik. He can't die.

Robotnik can't die, because that would violate the natural order of the universe.

Stone glances down the cliffs at the rocky beach below. It looked more inviting tonight than it had in a while. What is his life's purpose now? Working at his stupid desk job? Trying to make vague, meaningless connections with people who don't even possess a tenth of the intelligence Robotnik had?

Stone stands up. The breeze makes his jacket flutter as he steps closer to the edge, teasing the precipice with the heel of his boot. He watches as a few rocks and pebbles tumble down the cliffside.

He keeps replaying Robotnik's last words in his mind, words that came far too late. There were so many things Stone still wanted to say to him, and now he would never get the chance. Robotnik was gone. And he waited until the last possible moment to finally give Stone the faintest glimmer of hope that he actually cared about him as much as Stone cared about Robotnik.

Stone steps away from the cliff's edge, suddenly reminded why he hasn't given up yet. He isn't done being furious. Every time his sadness and grief come close to overwhelming him, his latent anger bubbles violently to the surface. Anger at Robotnik, at his traitorous grandfather, at Shadow, at everyone and anything that led to the Doctor's death.

Most of all, he's angry at himself. For letting it happen, for not doing enough to protect him.

A strangely familiar sound breaks through the cacophony of waves and winds, a sound that takes Stone completely by surprise. Teleportation. His hand flies to the weapon in his jacket - old habits - and Stone turns, his heart jumping into his throat when he sees a familiar black and red figure silhouetted against the skyline.

"Shadow," Stone croaks, his lips pulling into a snarl. "You survived. I should have guessed." He barks a bitter laugh. "You space rodents are impossibly resilient."

Shadow says nothing. His expression is drawn in it's usual scowl, but despite Stone's obvious disdain, Shadow steps closer, looking Stone over as if he's making sure he teleported to the right person. Stone can understand, he supposes; over the last few months Stone has let his beard grow more than he's usually comfortable with. Stone sighs, removing his hand from his jacket. There's no point in pulling a weapon on Shadow, he knows that.

"Why are you here?" Stone demands.

Shadow stops. "Delivering a message."

Stone scoffs, turning away. He sits back down, this time letting his legs dangle over the cliff's edge. "I'm not interested."

"You don't even know who it's from."

"I don't care," Stone says. "Now that the Doctor's gone, I don't want anything to do with any of you. If I never see another brightly colored anthropomorphic creature in my life, I can die happy."

Shadow grunts in irritation. "You should care, because it's from Gerald's grandson."

All the words Stone has ever known fly away from him in an instant. Those simple words freeze him to the cliff like he's been soldered there, and his breath feels like it's frozen in his lungs. When he's finally able to breathe again, rage is the first thing that he feels, boiling violently in his chest.

He shakily stands, turning to face Shadow again. "Liar," he rasps.

Shadow's scowl deepens. "Why would I lie?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," Stone growls, "but I'm not interested in whatever game you're trying to play. You and Gerald are the reason the Doctor is gone. Don't you think you've done enough damage? Or have you come here just to torment me?"

Shadow's expression softens somewhat. "I was wrong, I know that now."

"Fantastic," Stone barks, turning back to face the ocean with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Now leave me alone."

Shadow sighs. "I can take you to him."

There's a moment of silence between them. Stone watches the waves, Shadow's words hanging heavy in the air. Why would he lie? What would he get out of it? Stone barely knew Shadow, but he didn't peg him as a particularly sadistic hedgehog. Angsty, yes, but more revenge-focused than anything else. For a moment, Stone entertains the possibility that Shadow is telling him the truth. If there was even a chance the Doctor was alive, shouldn't he take it? Could he ever forgive himself if he didn't at least investigate?

"It's been months," Stone points out. "If the Doctor has been alive all this time, where has he been? Why didn't he contact me?"

"I'm sure he can answer all your questions," Shadow says impatiently. "I'm just here to bring you to him. So do you want to see him, or not?"

Down the cliffs or go with the hedgehog. Stone isn't certain he can survive grasping for hope like this. Hope is terrifying, it's cruel, but now that it's being waved over his head, something inside of him that died six months ago feels like it's slowly sparking back to life. He has nothing to lose, anyway.

Stone turns to face Shadow. "Yes," he says. "Take me to him."

Chapter Text

Stone wasn't ever expecting to see the Crab again, but here he was, standing inside it. It was in horrible shape; water-logged power cords were sagging from the broken ceiling, trash was everywhere, and most of the consoles were broken and flickering. It was in such a sorry state that part of Stone wanted to accept this as definitive proof that Robotnik was truly dead and gone. He may have let himself go in the two years after his defeat in Green Hills, but no matter how much trash he tossed everywhere or burritos he sent flying, he kept the Crab in perfect working order.

"Where is he?" Stone demands, his voice carrying a note of challenge. "You expect me to believe the Doctor has been living here in these conditions for six months?"

Shadow grunts, stepping further into the control room while stepping over cables and chunks of broken metal. "He's only been here for a couple of months, maybe." He steps closer to the back corridor where Stone knows the living quarters and personal facilities are. "Doctor," he calls, "Are you up?"

A voice yells from down the corridor, and the sound of it makes Stone sway on the spot.

"Is that some kind of pitiful attempt at a joke?!" Robotnik snaps. Stone catches himself on the console beside him, stopping his knees from buckling. Robotnik's voice floats nearer, a sharp tapping sound accompanying it. "Yes, I'm up, Shadow, as if it's any business of yours! Isn't it a bit late for you to be barging in unannounced?" Robotnik steps out of the corridor and into the room, glaring daggers at Shadow. His hair has grown out a bit, though it's wild and untamed. Alarmingly, he's using a cane, holding it tightly with his left hand. He's dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, his bathrobe draped over his shoulders.

Robotnik's attention moves from Shadow to Stone, and his eyes go very wide. They stare at each other for a long moment, neither of them saying a word or moving a muscle. Stone isn't certain he'll ever be able to speak again. He's light-headed, his brain is spinning in dizzying circles and he has to lean back against the broken console to ensure he doesn't drop to the floor. Something warm and wet streaks down his face - tears, he realizes - and Robotnik watches him in mute surprise for another moment before finally breaching the silence.

"Stone," he rasps, suddenly drawing himself up as if pretending the cane is merely decorative. "You're… here."

Stone is overwhelmed with emotion. He's euphoric, he's confused, he's furious, he's never been happier - he's processing a thousand things in a thousand ways and it's almost too much for him. He'd spent so long trying to accept the inescapable fact that Robotnik was dead and gone, seeing Robotnik in front of him now was incredibly surreal.

"Doctor," Stone begins, his voice embarrassingly shaky, "you're alive."

Robotnik offers Stone an almost uncharacteristically soft look. It's so similar to how he looked when he was broadcasting his last words.

"I'm alive, yes," Robotnik answers gently. Almost apologetically. "In the clinical sense, at least."

Stone rubs his eyes on his sleeve, realizing how much he's been crying. He should be ashamed to cry in front of his old boss, but he isn't. Robotnik's alive. He's alive, and the natural order of the universe can continue its cosmic routine unimpeded.

Robotnik glances back at Shadow, his expression darkening. "You brought him here…? Why?!"

Shadow's frown deepens. "You know why."

"You piddling porcupine!" Robotnik growls, his eyes flashing. "Of all the audacious, imposing, straight-up bullshit things you could have done–"

"Wait," Stone interjects, confused, "D-Doctor, I thought you asked him to bring me?"

Robotnik falls silent, staring at Stone again for a long moment with an expression that Stone can't discern. He looks despondent. Concerned. Now that Stone has found his voice, he pushes himself off the console, though his legs still feel like rubber.

"I thought you were dead," Stone says, his hands balled into fists. "DEAD, Doctor. You could have contacted me this whole time, but you didn't. Why? Why the hell would you– Why would you let me go through all that, do you have any idea what I've been through?!" He pauses, rubbing his eyes again, trying to collect his thoughts. "You're alive. I'm so happy you're alive, Doctor, but… Why the hell didn't you reach out? Didn't you want to see me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it–" Robotnik trails off, sighing in frustration. He looks tired. Something's different about him, but Stone can't put his finger on what. "It's not– Look, I'm not in the mood for a big reunion right now, okay?" He turns, waving a hand at Shadow flippantly. "Take him wherever he wants to go, Shadow."

The pit of Stone's stomach ices over. He's just learned that Robotnik is alive, he survived, but Robotnik doesn't want to see him. Stone has a thousand questions, but his disappointment overwhelms all of them.

"No," Shadow answers firmly, surprising them both. Robotnik whirls around, his face contorted in a furious scowl.

"No?!"

"No," Shadow repeats, irritated. "I'm not your errand boy. I'll check back in later, if I feel like it." In a flash of energy, the hedgehog is gone, leaving Stone and Robotnik alone in the crumbling remains of a mechanized crab.

The silence is deafening. Stone isn't sure what to say, still too shell-shocked to form coherent sentences. Fortunately - or perhaps not, Stone can't decide - Robotnik doesn't seem interested in dialogue. He casts his eyes away from Stone, looking more chastised than Stone had ever seen him.

"When that useless sack of chaos energy returns, he can take you back to Norwich. Just…" he exhales softly. "I'm not interested in visitors right now, Stone."

Robotnik turns, heading back down the corridor. Stone hears a door close at the end of the hall, and just like that, he's all alone in the derelict control room.

Stone's mind is racing frantically, trying to process everything that has happened in the last couple of minutes. Robotnik is alive. He's alive. That fact alone is almost enough to dispel the disappointment he feels over Robotnik's reaction to seeing him - almost. He still has so many questions, so much he wants to say, but the Doctor isn't open to it.

Why did Shadow bring him here? If Robotnik didn't want to see him, what was the point? And for that matter, what was Shadow doing here? Had they been living together since the destruction of the Eclipse Cannon? Were they roomies now?

Stone looks around the room. Despite the state of the crab, it still brings back so many memories. He lived here with Robotnik for the better part of two years after all, and although Robotnik was depressed and directionless for much of that time, Stone still enjoyed the closeness. He enjoyed taking care of Robotnik, content to wait as long as it took until Robotnik could get back on his feet.

Stone walks over to the main viewscreen, recalling the copious amounts of telenovelas the Doctor binged after he'd discovered them. The screen is shattered now, shards of it scattered over the floor. As Stone's eyes sweep over the wreckage, he notices something that stands out among the piles of broken machinery and debris. Next to the control chair, there's a bucket filled almost to the brim with bloodied bandages. The blood looks fresh. Stone stares at it, the bottom of his stomach falling into his shoes.

He'd been too stunned when he learned Robotnik was alive to question how he'd survived. The cane made sense now. Robotnik was injured, possibly severely. What could have happened to him that he would still be losing that much blood six months later?

Filled with sudden and urgent resolve, Stone races through the remains of the control room and sprints down the corridor. His heart hammers in his chest as he comes to a sudden halt in front of Robotnik's door; even now, it's difficult to go against Robotnik's direct wishes, but right now he's too concerned to care.

"Sir? I need to talk to you." Stone calls. No answer. "Doctor, please. I know you don't want to see me, but–"

"Go away, Stone!" Robotnik barks. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"What could possibly be more important than finding out you're alive?" Stone says. He places his hand on the door, giving it a small push just to see if it's unlocked. "Sir, just please open the–" Almost as soon as his fingers make contact with the door it creaks forward, pulling free of its hinges as if they were made of cheap plastic. The door crashes to the floor, the impact echoing off the walls of the Crab, leaving both men staring at it in surprise. Robotnik sits on the other side of the room, perched on the edge of what used to be his bed, but now looks more like a sad, sagging pile of blankets.

"Or just come right in, I guess." Robotnik grunts.

Stone steps over the fallen door, glancing around the room. It's in slightly better condition than the rest of the Crab, but it still breaks Stone's heart that Robotnik has been living here for any length of time.

Robotnik isn't looking at him, but he isn't yelling at him to get lost, either. Stone will take that, absolutely. "Doctor," Stone begins softly, "I know you don't want to see me, but… Knowing that you're alive is all that matters to me right now. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Robotnik huffs a laugh. "Same old Stone, even after all this," he muses. "Even after all I've done."

"All you've done?" Stone asks. "You mean saving the world?"

Finally, Robotnik turns and looks at him. Now that Stone is close enough to see him clearly, he can see how gaunt Robotnik is. He's lost all the weight he'd gained over the last two years and then some, and his skin is sallow and pale. Stone has never seen him so sick, but strangely, he also appears a few years younger. Not that he would ever brag about it, but no one on Earth was more familiar with Doctor Robotnik than Stone was. Whether it was his work, his appearance, his music tastes, or his favorite things to eat and drink, Stone was a certified Robotnik expert. And for whatever reason, Robotnik looks about five years younger than the last time Stone saw him.

"'Saving the world'," Robotnik repeats mockingly. "Trust me, Stone, it's not nearly as fun as it sounds."

Stone pulls a chair close to the bed, dropping into it. "Doctor, what happened? How did you survive the explosion?"

Robotnik sighs. "Unfortunately, I still don't entirely know. It might have been Shadow teleporting me out, it might have been the blast of chaos energy. Still up in the air."

"How can Shadow not know, at least?" Stone asks, confused.

"Using God-like powers to move an entire space station firing a super-weapon made things a little fuzzy for our Erinaceinae friend. He doesn't remember. Shadow and I both ended up back on Earth a little bit worse for wear, but alive."

Stone suddenly feels a bit guilty for harboring such harsh feelings about Shadow for so long. All this time, either intentionally or unintentionally, Shadow may have saved the Doctor's life.

"And, what? You two have been here ever since?" Stone asks.

Robotnik tsks. "No, not exactly. Vexingly, I fell into a coma. Not that I remember this, of course. The last thing I remembered was steering the Eclipse Cannon away from Earth and stalling the explosion long enough to prevent a planet-wide apocalypse, and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a Taiwanese hospital feeling like I'd been hit by three trucks and a highly radioactive blast of chaos energy." He shrugs. "I suppose I was hit by one of those things, at least."

It takes Stone far too long to realize that his mouth is hanging open. "You were in a coma?! D-doctor, I'm so sorry I wasn't there– And you had to deal with that all by yourself–"

"Cut it out, Stone," Robotnik says sharply. "Groveling is prohibited today. Not in the mood for it."

Stone shakes his head. "It's not groveling. I just wish I'd been there, sir. I wish I'd known."

Robotnik's features soften. He falls silent, perhaps waiting for Stone's next inquiry, or perhaps he's too tired to keep talking. Either way, Stone has far too many questions to possibly think about stopping now.

"Shadow brought you to the hospital, I'm guessing," Stone says. Robotnik hums an affirmative. Stone's eyes dart to the cane resting against the wall next to the bed. "Sir, I saw the bandages in the other room." As he expected, as soon as the bandages are mentioned Robotnik's spine straightens and he looks suddenly uncomfortable. "What's going on? What happened to you, Doctor?"

"It's so not a big deal," Robotnik mutters indignantly. "It's not your problem, Stone."

Stone doesn't even realize he's standing up until his chair topples over behind him. "Since when?!" he demands furiously. Robotnik turns to regard Stone in silent surprise. "I've been by your side for the better part of ten years, Doctor! That entire time, your problems have been my problems. Now all of a sudden you don't want to see me, you didn't even take the time to tell me you were alive, and you don't want my help. What did I do, Doctor?"

"Nothing!" Robotnik says. "Nothing, okay?"

"Then why?" Stone pleads. "Why are you pushing me away?"

A growl tears out of Robotnik's throat. "BECAUSE YOU'RE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME!" he practically shrieks in frustration. "Don't you get it? You were free of me, Stone. I thought maybe, just maybe, you could start a new life somewhere and remember me as Doctor Ivo Robotnik, the man who saved the Earth, not the gullible sad-sack who was almost manipulated into destroying it."

A tense silence fills the room, disturbed only by the moans and creaks of the Crab. Stone was struck dumb and mute by the admission - the Doctor never apologized or admitted when he was wrong. Not directly, anyway. It wasn't as though Stone had never seen him in a more vulnerable state; he had, of course, and he was fairly certain he was the only person on Earth to see the whole spectrum of Robotnik's emotions. Still, he'd never heard him say anything like this before. He cared what Stone thought of him. Something Robotnik mentioned a few minutes ago reemerges in Stone's memory, a detail he hadn't noticed amidst the shock. When that useless sack of chaos energy returns, he can take you back to Norwich. Robotnik knew where he'd settled down. He'd been keeping an eye on him, at least a little. Stone couldn't help but be a bit flattered.

"Our last conversation wasn't exactly heartening," Robotnik continues glumly. "I just assumed…" He shrugs. "I assumed you wouldn't want to see me."

Stone clears his throat. "Doctor, that is possibly the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Robotnik turns to look at Stone with what could only be described as surprised outrage. "Excuse me, Stone?"

"You heard me!" Stone says hotly. "I don't want to go off and start some new life without you, sir, I never did. All I've wanted - all this time - was to see you again. Now that you're here in front of me, I'm not sure there's anything you could do or say to get rid of me."

Robotnik's pale face dusts pink. He looks away, frowning deeply. "That's fair."

Now that he feels he's sufficiently subdued Robotnik and his silly insecurities, he picks up the chair and scoots it a bit closer to the Doctor before sitting down again. "Please, Doctor. I know you're hurt - just tell me what's going on."

Robotnik grunts in defeat. "Fine. If it gets you to shut up, I'll clue you in." He sighs deeply. "Spoiler alert: it isn't pretty, Stone."

Chapter Text

Stone wasn't certain what he was in for when Robotnik gently shouldered off his bathrobe, but even if he'd tried to guess, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Robotnik grits his teeth, a soft but pained sound escaping his lips - poorly disguised as a cough - as he pulls his t-shirt off, revealing a white tank top underneath. Stone's eyes trace Robotnik's right shoulder in horror, and without thinking he springs to his feet again, this time rushing to Robotnik's side to better assess what he's seeing. Robotnik avoids his eyes at all costs, huffing a laugh.

"That bad, huh?" he jests, but Stone can barely hear him. His heart is hammering wildly in his throat, there are tears filling his vision and he's at a complete loss for words.

At first, Stone isn't sure what he's looking at. A good portion of Robotnik's shoulder and arm are discolored, and it takes Stone a moment to realize he's looking at poorly-healing skin grafts. The damage continues down Robotnik's back, though he can't see how far it goes under Robotnik's tank top. Patches of the affected areas are bleeding, possibly infected, but before Stone can begin to worry about the severity of the burns, his gaze travels down to Robotnik's hand, or whatever is now in its place.

In all the years that Stone had known Robotnik, he had never seen him without his signature control gloves - he's had dozens of different models over the years, but they are always with him - so it wasn't unusual for Robotnik's hands to be covered. Now Stone can see that Robotnik's right hand isn't covered, it's missing. In its place is a mechanical prosthetic with Robotnik's recognizable white and black design, though it doesn't seem to be functioning properly yet. The fingers are stiff and unmoving, and there's a small red light blinking intermittently under each knuckle.

"My left leg also took some of the blast, but I'll spare you from seeing it. It's just more of the same," Robotnik mutters with a forlorn chuckle, his voice snapping Stone out of his unpleasant reverie. "I'm revolting, I know."

Stone slowly leans down on one knee, carefully sliding his hand under Robotnik's prosthetic, curling his fingers around the smooth titanium. When he looks up at Robotnik, the Doctor is staring back at him with wide, surprised eyes, his mouth set in a firm line.

"Nothing about you is revolting," Stone says firmly. "I don't want to hear you talk like that, sir."

Robotnik says nothing. He studies Stone's face as if trying to ascertain something, his throat bobbing with emotion.

"Doctor," Stone begins gently, "you aren't healing. You need to go to a hospital–"

"No," Robotnik snaps. "I'm not going back there. I stayed long enough for them to give me the damn skin grafts and then I had Shadow bust me out of that suffocating place. I'm handling it, Stone. I can take care of myself."

Robotnik's unshakable stubbornness was usually endearing, but not today. Not over this. "With all due respect, Doctor, you are not handling it, and you can't take care of yourself right now. Your injuries are serious, they need constant care!" He squeezes Robotnik's hand experimentally, and as he suspected, the hand doesn't respond. It's lifeless. "You need help, sir. You can't stay here, the Crab is falling apart."

Robotnik hums. "There's nowhere else I can go, Stone."

"Doctor, please answer something for me," Stone says earnestly. "Do you believe there's anything that I wouldn't do for you?"

Robotnik's eyes finally find Stone's again, holding his gaze solidly. His expression softens again, turning into something reverent. "No," he croaks, "a fact that continues to mystify me."

Stone offers Robotnik a soft smile. "Sir, let me help you. Please. I thought you were dead this whole time, and it nearly destroyed me. Now that you're here in front of me, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you recover."

Robotnik rolls his eyes, but Stone can see how flushed his face has become. "...Fine. With the two of us, perhaps we can get the Crab up and running in a timely–"

"Oh no," Stone says, standing up, "you're not staying here, Doctor. I forbid it."

Robotnik's head blows in Stone's direction, his brow furrowed indignantly. "Just who the hell put you in charge?!" he demands. "Last time I checked, you work for me!"

Stone crosses his arms over his chest, perking a brow. "Not anymore," he says matter-of-factly. "You fired me, remember? I'm a free agent."

Robotnik's outrage instantly evaporates, leaving him looking fairly despondent. "I may have forgotten all about that. I've been a little distracted what with the familial betrayal, unplanned heroism, and exploding in space like a human firecracker."

"And the coma, don't forget the coma," Stone points out.

Robotnik's mouth quirks in a grin. "I'd like to forget about the coma, actually," he says. He heaves a deep sigh, grimacing as the skin on his wounded shoulder tightens. "Stone… About what I said on the Eclipse Cannon. I'm s-s-s-..." Robotnik growls softly in frustration. "I'm s-sorry, alright? I was wrong. Insert whatever else people usually say while attempting to take accountability for their actions here."

Stone's eyes blow open in surprise. "Wow, Doctor… That's… I, um, appreciate it. Really."

"Good," Robotnik grunts, "because I'm never saying that again."

Stone grins. "Apologising doesn't suit you any more than heroism does, Doctor. I humbly request you refrain from doing either one of them ever again."

"Request approved, Agent," Robotnik answers. He winces again. Stone glances at his burns again.

"Sir, do you have bandages here? Medicine?"

Robotnik glances at the nearby table - Stone follows his gaze and spots a box that looks oddly clean and undamaged compared to everything around it. He's on it immediately, popping it open to check its contents; clean bandages, surgical gloves, and two bottles of topical medication. He collects the box in his arms and walks back over to the bed, sitting himself down beside Robotnik, facing him. "Are you able to take your shirt off for me?" he asks gently. "Your burns need to be taken care of, and I'm not sure it can wait."

Robotnik sighs again but puts up no real resistance. It seems he's fully accepted that Stone is going to be taking care of him whether he likes it or not. Slowly, Robotnik pulls off his tank top. Stone has to bite down on his tongue to prevent himself from making a sound when he sees how much further down the burns go - they spread over Robotnik's right shoulder blade and to the middle of his back, and the further down it goes, the worse it gets. It's clear from the state of the burns and skin grafts that Robotnik couldn't reach back that far to treat himself.

"I was getting ready to bandage it back up again before you showed up," Robotnik mutters. He sounds deflated. Embarrassed, perhaps.

Stone isn't sure what to say. His heart is in a stranglehold. His job was to keep Robotnik safe; how did it end up like this? Stone couldn't bear to see Robotnik so grievously injured. He steels himself and focuses on what he can control at the moment instead of dwelling on the what-ifs. Perhaps his sessions with Doctor Whitlock were helping more than he thought.

He pulls on a pair of gloves and opens one of the bottles - a topical antibiotic and pain reliever - and pours a dollop onto his fingers. As carefully as he can, Stone begins gingerly rubbing the medicine over Robotnik's burns. Robotnik issues a sharp hiss through his teeth, breathing deeply as Stone continues.

"I'm sorry, sir. If it's too painful, I can give you a minute." Stone says gently.

Robotnik snorts. "And prolong the suffering? No thank you, Stone. I'm used to it by now, anyway."

Stone thought that finding out Robotnik was alive would quell some of the anger he still held for Robotnik's grandfather, but seeing the extent of Robotnik's injuries and seeing him in pain like this was having the opposite effect. He still didn't know what became of Gerald, or what went on in the time between his final conversation with the Doctor and the destruction of the Eclipse Cannon, but it was safe to assume Gerald was dead; a pity, really, because Stone had a few choice words for that fossil, some of them involving explosives and the stabby end of a knife.

If he thought about how much he hated Gerald for too long, though, that hatred tended to turn inward. No sense in dwelling on it now, then. He had an important task to perform.

"Doctor… How have you been dealing with the pain all this time?" Stone asks, knowing Robotnik's disdain for substances that slow down or fog up his mind. He seems far too lucid to be on any powerful narcotics. "How have you even been functioning with injuries like this?"

"Not as well as I'd like," Robotnik admits dolefully. With a pained grunt, he reaches into his robe's pocket and pulls out a familiar blue quill, twirling it in his fingers. "I suppose I can thank that blue nuisance for one thing; his powered-up quills serve as a potent pain reliever." Robotnik brings the quill to his lips, taking a super-charged hit from it. He sighs in satisfaction, his discomfort almost visibly melting away. "A newly discovered side-effect. Maybe once I get this hunk of crustacean junk up and running again, I'll conduct some clinical trials on the potential for medicinal uses. If I care enough."

Stone's relief was unparalleled. Robotnik's injuries were still heart-rending, but it helped to know he wasn't dealing with the full, unfiltered magnitude of the pain. Now he had two hedgehogs to thank, which was not a situation he ever expected to find himself in. "Even so, I'm sure it hasn't been easy," Stone says gently. He spreads the ointment carefully over the infected area further down Robotnik's back. "It still has to be painful. And your hand…" He trails off, emotion tightening his throat. Robotnik huffs a humorless laugh.

"The only thing that upsets me about losing a hand is how difficult it's been to create a new superior hand with only a fraction of my resources and fifty percent of my digits," he says.

"Now that I'm here," Stone says, "I can assist you, Doctor. I'll help you with whatever you need."

A beat of silence follows Stone's words. "What was all that about being a free agent, then?" Robotnik challenges, but there's no bite in his words. "You said it yourself, you don't work for me anymore. So why are you so adamant to help me?"

Stone's hand halts over Robotnik's back for a moment. Even now, Robotnik was uncertain if Stone wanted to associate with him anymore. The last six months had been difficult for them both, that much was clear now. They'd both been struggling with loneliness and despair. Stone's loneliness was a result of Robotnik's death, but Robotnik's loneliness was self-imposed. He was punishing himself.

"Friends help each other," Stone says. "You're not my boss anymore, but I still care about you, Doctor." Robotnik was the only person Stone cared about when it really came down to it, but he wasn't prepared to say that out loud.

"...Oh." is all Robotnik offers in reply, but Stone knows Robotnik well enough to know how much surprise, sentiment, and disbelief is packed into that single syllable.

A comfortable silence follows, allowing Stone to continue treating Robotnik to the rhythmic serenade of the Crab's frame bending and pulling all around them. He finishes applying the ointment on Robotnik's back and arm, breaking out the bandages and wrapping up his burns as carefully as possible while ensuring they're snug against the healing skin. He moves on to Robotnik's leg next; without much prompting, Robotnik pulls up his pant leg to allow Stone access. The burns on Robotnik's calf are just as severe as his back - it's no wonder he needs the cane. The flesh is pulled tight around the skin graft, and some of the new skin is pulling away, not properly adhering to the rest of the undamaged skin. Robotnik has been walking around too much, from the looks of it.

Once Robotnik's leg is treated and bandaged, Stone realizes there's only one thing left to do. Stone looks up at Robotnik, and much to his surprise, Robotnik is looking back at him. His expression is soft once again, calculating, but not in his usual cold, sharp way. Stone is almost certain Robotnik has never looked at him like this in all the years they've known each other. A surge of something hot and urgent floods Stone's chest, filling him so full he feels like it could ooze out of his ears.

"Come stay with me, Doctor," Stone says. Robotnik's face barely twitches. "I'll make sure you have everything you need to recover, invent, research - whatever you need."

Robotnik's eyes are searching Stone's intently, as if he's looking for some hidden meaning behind Stone's words. "Is this a 'friend' thing, too?" he asks.

"Of course," Stone replies in earnest. "As long as I'm around, sir, you'll always have somewhere to go."

Robotnik lowers his gaze. For just a moment, Robotnik's eyes look strangely glossy.

"Well if you're gonna be like that, I guess I have no choice," Robotnik chides, but his tone is thick with rarely heard emotion. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Stone?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Your beard," he says, staring daggers at the bushy, unruly hair on Stone's face, "I hate it."

Despite himself, Stone laughs. He hates it, too. At least now he has a compelling reason to trim it up.

Chapter Text

Stone can't stop smiling. It's silly, he knows that, but as he scoops the cheese and onion omelette from the sizzling pan and onto a plate beside a heaping pile of blueberry pancakes, unbridled bliss swells and grows inside of him, threatening to burst out of him like a parasitic alien.

It felt like a dream. Over the last week, there had been several instances where Stone woke up convinced he must have dreamed it all up: Shadow appearing and taking him to the Crab to find Robotnik alive - injured, but alive - and then inviting Robotnik to come to his apartment to live with him while he recovers, Shadow reappearing just a couple of hours later to teleport them back to Norwich, Robotnik getting settled in the spare bedroom… It all seemed like a wonderful dream that couldn't possibly be real.

Stone sets the plate on a serving tray and covers it with a cloche to keep it warm while he whips up a latte. Making the Doctor's favorite latte was still so strange… He hadn't been able to look at caffeinated beverages after the Doctor's supposed death. Now he was making them daily once again, and it was like all was right with the universe.

A familiar sound disturbs the otherwise quiet kitchen, offset by the sound of espresso pouring into a cup. Stone doesn't need to look to know they have a visitor.

"Good morning, Shadow," Stone says, busying himself with stirring the steamed goat's milk. "Breakfast is on the table."

He hears a surprised hmph and the gentle dragging of chair legs as the hedgehog sits down. "How did you know I was going to be here?" Shadow asks.
Stone grins, carefully drawing Robotnik's logo on the latte's foam. "I didn't really, I just thought there was a good chance you'd be dropping by today. I always make extra food, so help yourself." He turns around to place the finished latte on the serving tray, glancing at Shadow who is already cutting into his omelette with a fork.

"Thanks," Shadow murmurs. He pops a forkful of omelette into his mouth, his expression changing only minimally as he chews. "How is he?" he asks.

Stone pulls out a chair and sits down across from Shadow. "He's adjusting," he says. "I'm pretty sure he's downplaying how much pain he's in."

"Of course he is," Shadow grumbles, poking his pancakes experimentally. "Stubborn."

"He's always been prideful and stubborn, but this is the first time it's annoyed me," Stone says with a chuckle. "But as long as he's getting better, I guess it doesn't matter."

Shadow makes a face after taking a bite of the pancakes. Not a fan of sweet foods, then. "He's getting better because you're with him," Shadow points out. He pushes the pancakes away and cuts into the omelette again. "You're the only person he trusts, especially now."

Stone has been thinking about that a lot, lately. So far things had been moving along smoothly, but none of this would have happened if Shadow hadn't shown up that night. Stone would still be thinking Robotnik was dead, he would still be riding out to those cliffs every night and contemplating the unthinkable. Shadow must have noticed Stone's sudden change in demeanor.

"If you think I'm wrong, you haven't been paying attention," Shadow says, resting his elbows on the table. "He's stubborn, you said so yourself. Robotnik family trait."

"Then why didn't he reach out to me?" Stone asks. "You could have come found me at any point over those six months. What changed? Why did you show up even though the Doctor didn't want you to?"

Shadow levels Stone a calm stare. "I don't take orders from him. I did what I did because I felt like it, that's all."

"That can't be all," Stone probes gently. "You just felt like it, six months later?"

Shadow sighs. "He was going to die at the rate things were going, that's the main reason. But there were things I didn't know until later that influenced my decision."

"What things?" Stone asked, puzzled.

"Not important," Shadow answers firmly. He takes another bite of the omelette, humming. "This is good, by the way."

Stone groans. "You are so frustratingly vague sometimes."

Shadow finishes off the omelette, setting his fork down. "It's not my business. Some things are for you two to figure out." He hops off of the chair. "Thanks for the meal."

With that, the hedgehog vanishes in a flash of Chaos energy. Stone sighs, standing up and pulling off his apron. Getting straight answers out of Shadow is practically impossible, but he supposes Shadow has a point. The specifics don't really matter anymore. They're back together again, and Robotnik doesn't seem averse to it. That was enough.

Stone collects the serving tray and heads through the apartment to Robotnik's room, gently rapping his knuckles against the door before cracking the door open. The room is still pitch black, thanks to the black-out tints and curtains Stone installed on the windows just for Robotnik.

"Sir, are you awake?"

A sleepy grunt answers him. Stone opens the door and the main monitor on the wall - also recently installed by Stone - illuminates the room in a soft blue glow as it wakes up in response to the movement and voices. Stone sets the tray on the bedside table, quickly doing his morning assessment of Robotnik. The most comfortable position for Robotnik to lay is on his left side, which he is, with the sheets pulled up tightly around him. He stirs and rubs his face with his left hand, groaning as he moves to sit up. As per the new routine, Stone assists him, holding him firmly by his elbow.

"How are you feeling?" Stone asks gently. Robotnik clears his throat, wincing as he sits up.

"Incredible," Robotnik answers wryly, his throat gravelly with sleep.

Stone opens the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out Sonic's quill and handing it to Robotnik. Robotnik takes a hit, and there's an immediate change in his posture as the discomfort eases up. He sighs in relief.

"Good morning, Stone."

"Good morning, Doctor."

Stone assists him once more to help him stand. Robotnik's leg is always at its most stiff in the morning, and although Stone can tell he dislikes having assistance walking, it's necessary for now. Stone helps him to the bathroom, and while Robotnik takes care of his business, Stone produces wash clothes, a basin of mildly soapy water, medicine and bandages. When Robotnik emerges from the bathroom, cane in hand, Stone allows him to walk back to the bed unassisted although he watches him like a hawk, ready to swoop in if he notices so much as a stumble.

Robotnik sits back on the bed, and Stone helps him out of his robe before setting the serving tray on Robotnik's lap and pulling off the cloche. Robotnik goes straight for the latte, taking a long drink.

"You have to eat," Stone reminds, sitting behind Robotnik to begin carefully peeling off his bandages.

"Caffeine first," Robotnik argues, taking another drink. He sets down his latte and grabs his fork, cutting into the pancakes. "Are you trying to fatten me up again?"

Stone snorts. "That was all you last time, sir. I made you plenty of good healthy food, but you insisted on burritos."

"I was going through a thing," Robotnik shoots back grouchily.

Stone grins. "I know. That's why I never pressed the matter. On the subject, though, there's nothing wrong with fat. I can tell you weren't eating nearly enough in the Crab, so yes, I guess I'm trying to fatten you up."

Robotnik huffs a laugh. "Well, it's a good thing you don't know all of my favorite foods or anything," he says sarcastically.

"Absolutely not," Stone replies teasingly. "And I certainly don't have a detailed spreadsheet to keep track of them all."

Robotnik hums. "Creepy, but I respect the grind." He brings a bite of pancake to his lips. "These are blueberry pancakes, right?"

"Of course," Stone answers.

Robotnik takes a bite, making a soft sound of contentment. "Delizioso," he mutters fondly.

The two of them fall into a serene silence as Robotnik finishes his breakfast and Stone removes yesterday's bandages and gently cleans the affected areas. With Robotnik's burns as they were, he couldn't shower or take baths, so twice a day Stone washes Robotnik with soft washcloths and gentle soap. At first, Robotnik wasn't too receptive to the idea, but there was no other option since he was incapable of doing it himself. After a couple of days, it just became a normal part of the routine.

In these moments, it's almost like nothing has changed. Stone knows that his association with Robotnik is anything but normal, but it's always been these quiet, companionable moments that Stone loved the most. Most people want to settle down with a house, a partner and some kids, but this is all Stone wants. Watching Robotnik work, listening to his long-winded but brilliant rants, assisting him with anything from badnik repairs to data analysis, or just making him some food or a latte; this is the life Stone covets, despite how strange that might seem to the rest of the world. He's happiest when he's assisting the Doctor.

After finishing up washing Robotnik's back, chest, and arms, Stone takes a short break just to clear away the tray and plates - Robotnik ate every bite of his food, to Stone's satisfaction - and returns to the bed to start treating the skin grafts with antibiotics and lotion. It's only been a week, but Robotnik's burns have improved more than Stone could have imagined. The redness was fading day by day, and the bleeding had almost completely stopped. Stone's relief was incalculable.

"Stone," Robotnik says softly as Stone carefully spreads the medicine on his back, "do you remember that mission in Azerbaijanistan?"

The inquiry is a welcome one, if not a little surprising. Robotnik wasn't usually one for reminiscing. "Of course, Doctor. That was the first overseas assignment I accompanied you on."

Robotnik breathes deeply through his nose. "Early on in the mission, when we were separated from the rest of the team when the insurgents ambushed us, we took cover while my drones held them off. A stray bullet caught me in the shoulder. I barely noticed, but you knew exactly what to do. I remember it so clearly. You pulled your jacket off, tore it into strips, and before I even realized what you were up to you were making a tourniquet, packing my wound and wrapping me up faster than an EMT. You stayed with me until medical arrived, and even then, you forced your way into the ambulance."

Stone chuckles at the memory. "I threatened a medical professional, yeah."

"I never told you," Robotnik says, "but I appreciated that, Stone. I know I was yelling and complaining the whole way, but… That was the moment I decided I didn't want to chase you off or fire you. I decided to keep you around."

Stone's hands cease their careful rotation across Robotnik's back.

"I feel similarly, right now. This kind of work must be awful, but you're here doing this for me even now. I suppose you've always been taking care of me, I've just been a little blind to it."

Stone almost didn't know how to respond. He never did any of the things he did so that Robotnik could praise him or thank him for his service. He knew Robotnik wasn't that kind of man, he'd always known that. Being close to Robotnik was the highest form of praise Stone could hope for. Before Stone was assigned to him, Robotnik was infamous for firing agents almost faster than Walters could assign them. Agent Stone was the agent who stayed, the only one Robotnik routinely asked for, the only one Robotnik shared his work and research with. Until now, that was the highest honor Stone could imagine.

"It isn't work to me, sir," Stone finally says, pulling off his gloves and getting the bandages prepared. "And it isn't awful. I actually like it."

"You like it?" Robotnik asks incredulously. "You can't be serious."

Stone snorts. "I'm very serious." He clears his throat. If Robotnik could be vulnerable with him, he could certainly offer the same courtesy. "After I… lost you, I felt completely purposeless. My greatest joy and honor has been taking care of you, Doctor. Even just making your lattes is enough. It's never been a job for me. If we're being honest with each other, I want you to know that."

For the first time since they started chatting, Robotnik turns his head to look at Stone. All at once, Stone feels like he can't breathe. Their faces are mere inches apart, and Robotnik is looking at Stone with that same soft, unguarded expression that Stone is so unfamiliar with. For a moment it's like time has slowed to a stop. Stone's heart is pounding against his ribcage unforgivingly. His eyes trace every line and detail of Robotnik's face - even at his lowest, he's so damn handsome - and finally fall to his mouth, something warm filling up his chest when he allows himself to think about what Robotnik's lips would feel like against his own.

A flash of panic overwhelms him. Stone tears his eyes away, looking down at the bandages he's now tightly clenching in his hands.

"So what's the plan for today, Doctor?" Stone asks, focusing solely on unraveling the bandages to hide his undoubtedly very flushed face. "Should we continue the work on your hand? The progress you've made these last couple of days has been incredible."

Robotnik has already turned away. He clears his throat. "A few more days is all I should need - and a small amount of fiberglass. It's nearing completion."

"I can get you fiberglass, sir. No problem."

Stone's stomach is swimming with everything he wants to say but knows he can't. He'd known for some time now that he was madly in love with Ivo Robotnik. It was an inescapable fact. But he'd gotten good - very good - at keeping his feelings to himself. Being close to Robotnik was all that mattered to him. There was no sense in wishing for something more when he knew it could never be.

The truth was, Stone had no idea what he wanted anymore. Since finding out Robotnik was alive, it was like everything had changed. What was he to Robotnik, now? Just a friend? An ex-employee? He was too scared to ask. Stone had gotten so used to his position as Robotnik's loyal henchman that he never considered what might happen if that position was no longer required.

He felt like such a hypocrite. He'd talked a big game about being friends, but being Robotnik's friend was much more painful than being his henchman: 'Friend' implied they could be something more, but Stone knew that was as impossible as it ever was.

Chapter Text

Years before

"Me, sir?"

Agent Stone scans the page he holds in his hands again, the page that is stamped with a red, urgent-looking 'CLASSIFIED'. Under the splatter of red ink, he reads it again - 'Head of security for Doctor Ivo Robotnik,' and all other text on the page seems to melt away. It all seems so surreal.

"You're one of our best agents, Agent Stone," Commander Walters says matter-of-factly. "The truth is, your talents are being wasted here. The work Doctor Robotnik is doing is our department's main focus at the moment, or more importantly, his continued safety while he continues that work." Walters leans back in his seat, criss-crossing his fingers over his stomach. "What do you know about Doctor Robotnik?"

"I know he has one of the highest IQs ever recorded," Stone nearly jumps to answer. "His inventions are decades ahead of their time, he has a perfect operations record, and much of his work is highly classified."

"You know your stuff," Walters says in a tone of either amazement or concern, Stone isn't certain which.

"You might say I'm a fan of his work, sir."

Walters grins. "You're smart, Agent Stone. You just might be able to keep up with him. You're also our best weapons expert and one of our most sought-after field analysts. I'd say you're almost overqualified for the position."

Stone glances at the file in his hands again. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir, but… Isn't this position just security of a different sort?"

Walters fidgets in his seat. "You haven't had the pleasure of meeting the Doctor yet, I see."
"No," Stone answers, "but I've always hoped for the chance."

"Be careful what you wish for," Walters chuckles, but something about his tone rubs Stone the wrong way. He didn't claim to know the measure of Commander Walter's intellect, but it seemed foolish to make vaguely rude, off-handed remarks about the most insanely intelligent man in the government's employ. "You won't only be protecting Doctor Robotnik from outside threats, you'll be doing anything and everything he needs to continue his work. He can be difficult to work with, so this kind of job isn't for everyone. I think you're up to it."

Stone considers this. Anything and everything? That's no problem, of course, but what could a man like Stone possibly offer a once-in-a-century super genius like Doctor Ivo Robotnik? He isn't sure, but he knows he's not about to turn down an opportunity to work for that aforementioned super genius.

"I am, sir."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Agent. This assignment has a high rate of… Uhh, not working out. The last agent I assigned to head up the Doctor's security team didn't last a week. I'm putting a lot of faith in you here."

Stone folds the documents under his arm, standing at attention. "I won't let you down, sir."

.

.

.

"Doctor, it's time for physical therapy." Stone calls from the kitchen.

Robotnik pauses his favorite telenovela, throwing a glare over his shoulder from the couch.

"Can't it wait? Joaquín is just about to find out Josefina's baby isn't his- this is serious stuff, Stone!"

Stone abruptly stops chopping the vegetables he's preparing, frowning. "Wait, wait… Josefina is cheating on Joaquín? How did I miss that?"

"Stone, Stone, Stone… You simple fool, you," Robotnik chides. "Carlos's lover Isabel disguised herself as a nurse and swapped Josefina's baby with the baby she found in that dumpster, obviously. Try to keep up, here!"

Stone chuckles, his blade resuming its deadly procession along the length of the zucchini. "Oh my god, I can't believe I forgot about the dumpster baby."

"Chekhov's dumpster baby," Robotnik muses. "It'll always come back around."

Stone sweeps the chopped vegetables into a glass container with his knife, sealing it up. He slides in into the fridge for when it's time to start dinner. "Okay, let's finish the episode first. But then it's physical therapy, no matter how much you loathe it."

Robotnik groans but otherwise doesn't complain. Stone finishes up in the kitchen, hangs up his apron and joins Robotnik on the couch. He plops down with a sigh as Robotnik resumes the show, tilting his popcorn bucket toward Stone in a wordless invitation. Stone pops a few pieces into his mouth, grabbing a pillow to get comfortable.

This is how life has been for the last week or so. It was difficult to quantify how happy Stone was to be reunited with Robotnik again, and living together - even while combating complicated feelings - was like a dream. Robotnik was healing excellently, though Stone now worried more about preventative care to ensure minimal scarring and to preserve the full range of motion in his arm, shoulder, and leg. Robotnik hated physical therapy because it was just a series of long-held stretches with nothing else to occupy his mind, and no one knew better than Stone how much Robotnik detested sitting with himself for too long doing monotonous activities. Stone could sympathize, especially now. Lately, he'd been keeping himself extra busy doing every little thing that needs doing so he didn't have the time or energy to dwell on anything else.

Once the episode ends - a cliffhanger, of course - Stone turns off the TV and after a mercifully small amount of coaxing, he convinces Robotnik to start on his stretches. The stretches are simple but repetitive, so while Robotnik gets started, Stone pulls out his laptop and logs into work. He only has a few last things to finish up before he officially calls it quits.

"What are you doing on that primitive thing?" Robotnik grumbles mid-stretch from his position on the floor, glowering at the laptop as though it's wronged him. "The apartment's outfitted with my tech now, Stone. There's no need to use antiquated devices."

Stone's mouth quirks in a smile, though he continues typing. "Unfortunately, the company I work for can see what device I'm logging in on. They require a specific OS."

A short silence follows Stone's reply, but it's broken by Robotnik again moments later. "...You have a job?"

Stone's fingers screech to a halt over his keyboard. He glances up, perking a brow. "Yes, Doctor."

Robotnik's eyes are wide. He moves to stand up - it's allowed, he's finished his leg stretches - cutting Stone an incredulous expression.

"I didn't know you had a job."

"I had to get one, Doctor. It comes with the 'covertly starting a new life' territory."

"But why do you have a job?" Robotnik demands. "You know we have enough money stashed in offshore accounts for you to live comfortably until you're ninety-nine! You have just as much access to that money as I do!"

"Ah," Stone fixes his eyes to the laptop screen, suddenly embarrassed. He hadn't ever expected to traverse this topic. "It's not really about the money, Doctor. The job was a pretty important part of my cover." It was also because he couldn't bear to open those accounts knowing that Robotnik was gone, that the mere thought of using that money for anything other than aiding the Doctor and his plans for world domination was too painful to consider. Better to leave that part out, though - there was no point in bringing down the mood. "I turned in my two weeks shortly after you came to stay here, I'm just finishing up some final jobs and reports."

"I see." A short silence. His mood adjusts, and his earlier disbelief is replaced with what appears to be genuine curiosity. "What kind of job did you have, then?"

Stone isn't sure what to make of Robotnik's sudden interest in the subject, but he's only too happy to oblige him. Historically, Robotnik didn't usually ask Stone for personal information, or try to delve into his life in any way. There didn't seem to be a point, since Stone spent most of his time in Robotnik's employ and company. He didn't have much of a personal life this last decade or so outside of his association with Robotnik, which suited him just fine.

"Cyber security," Stone answers. "Good pay, decent benefits, and a flexible schedule. It suited my needs, even if it was the most mind-numbingly boring job on the planet."

Robotnik huffs proudly. "Your last job set the bar pretty high, engagement-wise."

"Way too high," Stone agrees. "It's hard to find a job that involves subterfuge, constant danger, world domination and anthropomorphic space creatures, strangely enough."

"Yeesh. Tough job market," Robotnik chides, starting on his shoulder exercises.

Sometimes - like right now - Stone felt like their banter bordered on friendly. Flirtatious, even. Over the last couple of weeks, it seemed easier to chat with Robotnik, like some invisible barrier had dissolved between them. He wasn't sure if it was their current living situation, Robotnik's brush with death, or their association changing from boss and employee to something resembling friendship, but something was changing between them. Stone loved it. It also terrified him.

His dynamic with Robotnik had been one way for so long it was hard to imagine anything changing, but he supposed it already had. The moment the Eclipse Cannon lit up the night sky, everything changed for both of them. It was all about navigating that change, now.

.

.

.

"Sir, would you like me to shave your head?"

Dinner is over, the lights are dimmed, and Robotnik is curled up on a corner of the couch buried in recently-knitted blankets reading a book. The sight of it squeezes Stone's heart in the best way - it's soft, it's almost uncharacteristically domestic, but Stone reminds himself there aren't many things to do here in his apartment. No matter how many monitors and other equipment Stone was able to salvage from the Crab and install here, his Norwich flat was no substitute for a lab. That was fine for now since Robotnik was on strict orders to relax and rest while he recovered, but sometimes Stone wondered how long Robotnik would be able to stand living at a normal person's speed.

Robotnik's hair is getting longer. Stone has no issue with this, of course, but Robotnik can be particular about his hair, or lack thereof depending on his mood. Ever since he'd returned from the Mushroom Planet he preferred it shaved off - why, Stone wasn't certain, he just assumed it was part of his new supervillain persona - until he'd let it grow into an untamable mess in the Crab. Stone didn't want it to reach that point again.

Robotnik doesn't bother to look up from his book. "Not really," he answers simply.

Stone wasn't expecting that. "It's getting long," he points out.

Robotnik finally lowers his book, raking titanium fingers through his chestnut hair, observing as some of it flops into his face. "I suppose it is." He sets his book in his lap. "Perhaps it's time for a trim."

"One trim, coming right up."

Stone trots to the bathroom to grab his barber's kit and a towel. His original kit was lost in the Crab, but he'd purchased a lengthy list of supplies once Robotnik came to stay with him, including a new haircutting kit. He returns to the living room, rolling out his kit on the coffee table. "What style were you thinking this time, sir?" he asks.

Robotnik sits up, slides a bookmark into his book and tosses it on the other side of the couch. "Just trim it up," he says. "I might let it grow out for a while this time."

Stone chooses two pairs of scissors and a comb, pocketing them. He moves behind Robotnik and wraps the towel around Robotnik's shoulders and along the back of the couch. "Your hair always grows faster in the front," Stone says, his hands automatically reaching out to thread fingers through Robotnik's hair to judge the length. "I can trim it shorter in the back and leave the front a little longer if you like."

Robotnik hums approvingly. "I leave my locks in your capable hands," Robotnik says, leaning back into Stone's touch. "I trust you."

Stone chuckles softly, his fingers still gently combing through Robotnik's hair, noting how the silver strands catch the light. "Careful, sir. If you give me too much freedom, you might end up with frosted tips."

Robotnik scoffs, but there's a hint of amusement in his voice. "You know how much I despised the 90s! I'd sooner shave it all off again."

Stone begins to section off Robotnik's hair, his movements precise and practiced. The soft snip of scissors fills the comfortable silence between them. Robotnik closes his eyes, allowing himself to relax under Stone's careful ministrations. Stone has trimmed and styled Robotnik's hair more times than he can possibly count over the years, so it's a quick process. As such, Stone is moving on pure muscle memory when he moves around in front of Robotnik to climb into his lap - as per the routine - to begin trimming up the front.

The reality of the situation suddenly dawns on him, right when he's nestled comfortably in Robotnik's lap. He's pelvis-to-pelvis with his ex-boss. Stone isn't so out-of-touch that he believes barbers routinely straddle their client's laps while giving them a haircut, of course - like many things, Stone's interactions with Robotnik have never been normal. Even so, there's something different about it now. The soft, cozy ambiance of Stone's living room couldn't be further from the cold, clinical vibes of Robotnik's many labs. There was an element of intimacy now that couldn't be ignored, but it was too late to retreat. All Stone can do is continue trimming Robotnik's hair like nothing is out of the ordinary and pray Robotnik doesn't find it as awkward as Stone fears he does, his face burning in mortification.

A few minutes pass in silence as Stone works, avoiding Robotnik's eyes at all costs. Robotnik is completely relaxed underneath him, which he hopes is a good sign. Maybe Stone was blowing things way out of proportion, maybe Robotnik didn't think any of this was nearly as intimate as Stone did.

Just when Stone thought perhaps he should relax a little, Robotnik breaks the silence, his voice soft and inquisitive.

"Sam Brooktin," he says, and Stone's fingers falter in surprise. He nicks his other hand with the blade of his scissors, just over his second knuckle. He barely feels it, too stunned by the sudden name drop to care. "We've both used several aliases over the years for various missions. Why didn't you just use one of those?"

Stone's wide-eyed gaze finds Robotnik's. "How did you…?"

"Mail came while you were showering," Robotnik explains, his tone deadpan. "I'm just wondering why you picked that name."

Stone's ears are burning. This was calculated. Waiting until Stone was seated in his lap, mere inches away from him, completely unable to avoid the subject - sinister. Stone's heart is pounding so hard he's worried Robotnik can hear it. There's no point denying what Robotnik has undoubtedly already worked out for himself; spotting an anagram is a cakewalk for a super-genius, especially when it's his own damn surname.

"It's just a name," Stone tries to explain, "For obvious reasons, you were on my mind when I was falsifying documents for my new alias, and it just kind of… happened." This isn't true, of course - he very purposefully took Robotnik's name both as a memorial to him and as a pathetic, brokenhearted whim. Robotnik watches him with a strange mixture of curiosity and melancholy. Stone feels more put on the spot than he ever has. "I'm sorry if it offends you, or–"

"It doesn't offend me," Robotnik answers swiftly.

"Oh. Well, good." Stone clears his throat. In an effort to keep things casual, he turns back to his work, sweeping some hair away from Robotnik's forehead and raising his scissors again to finish up the trim. The warmth between their closely knitted bodies is driving him up the wall - the sooner he can vacate Robotnik's lap, the better.

All it takes is a few more well-placed snips. "There we are," Stone says, moving to get up. Before he can, Robotnik snatches his wrist, gently pulling him back. Stone's breath freezes in his lungs and he meets Robotnik's eyes again, stunned into silence.

Robotnik turns Stone's hand over, glancing at the bead of blood on his knuckle. Stone had completely forgotten he'd grazed himself with his scissors earlier. "...Doctor?"

"You need to be more careful, Stone," Robotnik says softly. The low timbre of his voice sends a potent chill shooting up Stone's spine, and he has to suppress a shiver. "You've been working overtime taking care of me, but I'm concerned you aren't taking sufficient time for yourself."

They're too close, it's too intimate. Robotnik's prosthetic hand is still gently holding his, a smooth titanium thumb prodding Stone's scraped knuckle with care. Stone feels like there's a fountain inside of him that's threatening to bubble and spill out of him if he doesn't kiss Robotnik immediately and passionately, but he resists with every ounce of willpower he possesses.

"I've already told you, I don't consider this work," Stone assures with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Robotnik finally releases his hand. "Right. More of that friendship stuff you mentioned?"

There was a time when Stone would have ascended to another plane of existence if Robotnik had referred to Stone as his 'friend'. Now, it felt like a swift punch to the gut.

"Yes, of course. Because we're friends, Doctor."

Chapter Text

"Shadow," Robotnik begins judgementally, "you eat like an unchecked fifteen-year-old boy gearing up for a full weekend of Call of Duty."

He isn't wrong, unfortunately; since Shadow has been popping by more and more frequently Stone has made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with all of his favorite foods as he's gotten a better idea of what Shadow prefers. So far, all Shadow liked to eat was microwavable meat pastries, chips, and candy bars.

Shadow glares at Robotnik, motioning broadly at the table where he, Stone, and Robotnik are eating dinner. "You've eaten just as much pizza as I have."

"It's more about the handful of Doritos you just sandwiched between those two slices," Robotnik points out distastefully. Shadow's glare continues uninterrupted.

"For crunch," he says as if that's a perfectly reasonable explanation. He takes a bite of his pizza Doritos sandwich without breaking eye contact. Robotnik shakes his head disapprovingly.

Stone grins, pulling another slice of pizza from the pie. The cheese stretches so much that Stone has to use his fork to sever it from the slice next to it. "Doctor, I once saw you fill a shrimp taco with leftover Chinese food. I don't think you're in any position to harass Shadow over his creative food choices."

"J'accuse!" Robotnik slams a fist down on the table, jostling their drinks. "That was supposed to be private, Stone!"

Stone tries and fails to stifle a laugh. He turns to Shadow, who has somehow already scarfed down his Dorito/pizza monstrosity. "Still, the Doctor sort of has a point, Shadow. You're the ultimate life form, right? Shouldn't you, uh, eat a vegetable at some point?"

Shadow rests his head in his hand, shrugging his shoulders. "I simultaneously create and burn infinite energy. As far as I know, I don't need to eat to survive. Food doesn't impact me, I just happen to like it sometimes."

Robotnik scoffs. "Lucky!"

"I had no idea," Stone says in amazement. "Do you ever feel hungry?"

Shadow huffs an amused laugh. "Sometimes. It takes a while, though." He shoots Stone a suspicious frown. "You've been asking me a lot of questions lately. Why?"

Stone smiles apologetically. "Well, we're all spending a lot more time together recently. It's normal to want to know more about your friends and acquaintances. If my questions make you uncomfortable, I can back off."

Shadow's brow rises seemingly in surprise. He stares at the table for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "No, it doesn't make me uncomfortable. I'm just not used to it, I guess. Most of the time, if someone asked me a question it was for a report or a chart. Maria was the only person who ever showed any interest in who I really was. She saw me as more than just a science experiment."

Robotnik rests his chin in his hand, his other pulling a piece of pizza lazily toward his mouth, watching the conversation in mute interest.

By now, Stone knew who Maria Robotnik was. He'd learned about Maria and Shadow's past when he'd finally unraveled the events that transpired before the Eclipse Cannon exploded. Robotnik hadn't been very forthcoming with the information - he still seemed embarrassed and wounded by the whole affair - and Shadow wasn't a particularly chatty hedgehog, so it had taken some time for Stone to get the full story.

While Maria's fate was incredibly tragic and Robotnik's reunion with his grandfather ended in disaster, Stone was at least glad to know more about Robotnik's family. He wasn't certain if Robotnik shared that sentiment or not, but hopefully someday Robotnik would be comfortable talking about it.

"It sounds like Maria was a very sweet, compassionate girl," Stone says gently.

Shadow nods solemnly. "She was."

The atmosphere is understandably heavier. Perhaps to lighten the mood, Shadow grabs another slice of pizza - his fourth piece, thank god Stone made an extra large pizza - and takes a bite out of it. "This is good, by the way. Thanks for dinner."

Stone smiles. "I guess you like pizza, too. You and the Doctor have that in common."

"Which reminds me," Robotnik says accusingly, "this was supposed to be my pizza, correct? A little treat after weeks and weeks of eating nothing but mostly green leafy stuff that 'technically' qualifies for food." Stone levels him a look, at which Robotnik quickly amends, "Which was all fine, okay, I'm just saying, how come the goth rat over here gets to help himself to half of my pizza?!"

"The pizza was for everyone, Doctor," Stone reminds, amused. "I knew there was a good chance Shadow would be dropping by, so I made enough for all of us."

"I wanted leftovers!" Robotnik barks. "Haven't you ever had cold pizza for breakfast? It's divine!"

Stone did, indeed, know Robotnik's affinity for cold pizza for breakfast. He didn't understand it, but he knew it very well.

"I had enough ingredients to make you a personal pizza as well, sir," Stone says, and Robotnik's pouty expression vanishes instantly. It's hard to tell, but it almost looks like his face has taken on a bit of a pinkish tint. "It's in the fridge."

"Ah," he stammers, his earlier gusto gone, "Well done, Stone."

Shadow watches them both, his eyes sliding from Stone to Robotnik. After a beat of silence, he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his fluffy chest. "Wow, Stone. You know the Doctor better than he knows himself."

This is a fact that Stone is very proud of, naturally, but at the mention, Robotnik's face turns an even darker shade. He averts his eyes, taking a long drink of his water.

.

.

.

"Sir, would you like to come out with me today?" Stone asks.

The question hangs there heavily between them. Robotnik's hand freezes, the small screwdriver he's holding still stuck in his prosthetic thumb. He glances at Stone standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his brows drawn in a hesitant frown as if he's misheard Stone somehow.

"Come out with you, as in… Outside?" Robotnik asks. Stone nods. He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.

"I think you're well enough that some walking around would be good for you," Stone says. He's been giving this a lot of thought lately; after he'd recovered from his injuries following the giant robot incident, Robotnik didn't leave the Crab for two years. Stone had to install therapy lamps just to ensure Robotnik didn't fall ill from the lack of sunlight - He's determined not to let that happen again. "Some fresh air will help your recovery, too."

Robotnik finishes tightening up his thumb before returning the screwdriver to his toolbox. Robotnik's room has changed dramatically in the last several weeks - it looks more like a lab than a bedroom now, but that's exactly how Robotnik likes it, so Stone has no complaints.

"Sounds risky," Robotnik says, his tone still hesitant.

"You look different enough that I don't think anyone will recognize you, Doctor. In the off chance that someone does, I have countermeasures in place."

Robotnik's expression relaxes. He huffs a laugh. "Of course you do." He moves to stand up from his workbench. "So you're going to, what? Show me the sights?"

Stone's heart skips a little beat. When he says it like that, it sounds much more intimate than Stone intended. Then again, Stone couldn't deny that his thoughts wandered in that direction when he'd first considered inviting Robotnik outside of the apartment - it was for his health mainly, yes, but Stone would be lying if he said the idea of having a day out with Robotnik hadn't enticed him just as much.

It's surprising, then, that Robotnik mentioned the same thing.

"It would be good exercise," Stone offers. "And if showing you around Norwich is the best way to do that, I don't see why not."

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.

.

Taking Robotnik to Norwich Castle was a gamble, Stone knew that. But Robotnik was notoriously difficult to impress, so priceless statues and works of art in an ancient, medieval keep seemed like the only destination with any hope of holding Robotnik's attention.

Robotnik's disguise - if you could even call it that - was surprisingly effective. It was a chilly day out, so he wore a sweater under a long black trenchcoat with a red scarf wrapped around his throat. His mustache had been trimmed up to give less of a 'supervillain' vibe, and Stone had secured his preferred brand and style of sunglasses to hide his eyes when they were outside. Black gloves covered his hands - most importantly, his robotic hand - though Robotnik preferred wearing gloves regardless, suspicious prosthetics notwithstanding.

It was less of a disguise and more of a change of fashion, Stone supposed. The entire world watched the Eclipse Cannon explode in the sky; he wasn't too concerned about anyone recognizing Robotnik as he was now, especially since the most accessible photos of the Doctor were from his final livestream.

As such, they didn't garner so much as a glance from anyone as they toured the museum.

Stone was half-expecting Robotnik to act out a little, perhaps make rude remarks about the art pieces or the idiots who marvel at them; he didn't do any of those things. They walk to each exhibit in relative silence, the soft tap of Robotnik's cane echoing gently through the halls. It isn't until they're wandering through a hall of gorgeous still-life paintings that Robotnik breaches the silence.

"Pointless," he huffs, tucking his cane under his elbow to cross his arms over his chest. "Do you get anything out of this kind of stuff, Stone? Staring at paintings of fruit on tables, or the one-millionth painting of a bunch of trees and a lake?"

Stone hums. "Not particularly. I mean, fruit on tables isn't really my thing, but I could probably make a case for trees and lakes." He glances around, finding an area featuring paintings of cityscapes; he motions for Robotnik to follow and heads over, pointing out a large painting of the Walton Bridge. "Take this one, for example. Artistry aside, it's a lot like looking into a portal, isn't it? A very intimate peek through someone else's eyes, a snapshot of another time that's preserved forever through art. It can be kind of amazing, if you think of it like that."

Robotnik frowns at the painting for a moment as if trying to see what Stone described. He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess if you squint, that gives all of this a semblance of purpose. Maybe." He slides a suspicious glance at Stone. "That was disturbingly poetic, Stone. Are you a secret art buff or something?"

Stone chuckles. "Not really. I studied art history for two years when I was an undergrad, though, so maybe some of it rubbed off."

A flicker of surprise flashes across Robotnik's face. "You studied art history?"

"Not because I had any passion for art," Stone hastily explains. "It seemed like the best way to learn about geography, literature, theology, and history all at the same time, is all."

Robotnik snorts a laugh. "Efficient as always," he muses.

Stone glances at the cane still tucked under Robotnik's arm. "Sir, how are you feeling? Should we find somewhere to sit down for a while?"

Robotnik blows a raspberry through his lips. "I'm fit as a titanium fiddle for now, Stone." He slaps a hand down on Stone's shoulder, pushing him toward the next exhibit. "Come on, use your two years of art history knowledge to show me the art that doesn't totally suck."

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.

.

Despite Robotnik's insistence that he was fine, Stone still ensured they took plenty of breaks. They still had groceries and supplies to pick up, and although exercise was good for Robotnik's leg, he was still at risk of overextending himself.

The Norwich Market is a short taxi ride from the museum. The sky is bleached white when they arrive, a light flurry of snow blowing through the chilly air. Robotnik stares at the expansive rows of stalls, huffing in surprise. "An outdoor market. How incredibly quaint."

Stone grins, leading them toward a stall selling fresh produce on the outer edges of the maze. "It's one of the oldest outdoor markets in the country," Stone says, picking through the apples. "I've been coming here a couple of times a week since I moved here."

Robotnik hums. "Sounds riveting."

Stone glances at him in concern. "If you'd rather wait until I'm finished, we can find you somewhere to sit–"

"No, no," Robotnik waves his hand dismissively. "I proposed that you should show me the sights, and the oldest outdoor market in the country qualifies, I suppose."

Stone flashes him a smile. "Alright. But if you change your mind, I can get what we need quickly and we can leave."

Stone secures some apples, carrots, and tomatoes before they head into the marketplace, shielded from the increasingly heavy snowfall by the canopies covering them from above. The spaces between the stalls are narrow - narrower than Stone realized, actually, since he's only ever traversed this marketplace on his own - and Stone can feel Robotnik pressing in close to him, their shoulders flush. Closeness is nothing new to either of them, but Stone's feelings for Robotnik have been much more erratic lately and as such, it's suddenly hard for him to breathe.

There's another issue, as well. Robotnik has never done well with crowds. His general dislike of humans expands into a dislike of being too close to too many of them at a time. For as long as Stone has known him, Robotnik has taken great pains to avoid nearly every human-to-human interaction imaginable. He had that luxury when he headed the Shadow Ops program; there was always someone to do the grunt work for him - Stone, usually - so Robotnik didn't often find himself in situations where he encountered the common rabble. He preferred solitude to work on his machines or plan his missions, and Stone had always been happy to provide him with that.

Stone casts a furtive look in Robotnik's direction, gauging his mood. It's hard to determine from just a glance. He seems stone-faced for now, but if he starts to look uncomfortable, Stone is prepared to get him out post haste.

The marketplace is a colorful labyrinth of stalls filled to bursting with goods for sale; coffee, spices, bags, coats, jewelry, and dozens of eateries line the narrow passages, but fortunately Stone knows exactly where they're going. He's navigated these stalls frequently enough that he has a personal map memorized.

When they arrive at one of Stone's favorite stalls - The Yarn & Craft Store - a familiar face pops up from behind the rows of multicolored yarn. He's an elderly, balding man with a kind smile and warm eyes. "Sam, it's good to see you!"

Stone offers a smile in return. He feels Robotnik press in more tightly to his side. "Good afternoon, Geoff."

"How long's it been? At least a couple months, right?"

"At least," Stone replies. "I need to restock."

Geoff laughs. "Ah, it's good to see you're crocheting again." He glances at Robotnik and offers him the same kindly smile. "You've never brought anyone around before, who do we have here?"

Robotnik clears his throat. "I'm, uhh, a friend."

Stone's chest fills with a strange but potent mix of euphoria and despair. He busies himself with picking out various skeins and placing the collection of multicolored yarn on the counter. "How's your wife?" Stone asks, eager to take the focus off of Robotnik. "Is she still making those fantastic scones?"

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.

.

Robotnik is strangely quiet as they walk away from the craft shop. They've been out for a couple of hours by now, and Stone can't ignore how Robotnik is favoring his cane more than when they were visiting Norwich Castle.

"Let's take a short break and get some food," Stone suggests gently. The market is getting more crowded as the day goes on, and Stone is certain Robotnik doesn't want to linger much longer. "We only have one more stop after this, and then we can head home."

Robotnik grunts an affirmative. As they make their way through the winding corridors - still shoulder to shoulder - Stone notices Robotnik's gait become slightly uneven. His leg must be getting stiff.

"Doctor, lean on me if you need to," Stone says softly. Robotnik casts him a severe look.

"I'm fine, Stone."

"You agreed to put me in charge of your recovery, didn't you?" Stone points out. "If you don't want to lean on me, can I at least assist you?"

Robotnik rolls his eyes. "You are such a mother hen."

That isn't a no, exactly, so Stone slips his shopping bags to his left arm and hesitantly slides his right under Robotnik's, hooking his arm around the Doctor's. When he doesn't get immediately elbowed in the spleen, he places his other hand on Robotnik's upper arm, gently holding onto him as they walk. Robotnik doesn't object. His gait evens out a bit.

The walk isn't a long one, fortunately. There are food stalls everywhere, so all it takes is finding one that Stone knows Robotnik will enjoy; B's T's Snack Bar is a safe bet, with the pleasant bonus of having nearby seating.

When they approach the counter, a friendly worker is already beaming at them, ready to take their order. "What can I get for you two?" she asks.

Stone has eaten here before, so he's already locked and loaded. "A filled roll for me, please. Hot."

"And for your partner?" the woman asks. Her tone is so relaxed and friendly Stone almost doesn't realize what she's said at first, but very soon the implication hits him like a thunderclap.

It's as if all the sound in the marketplace has been sucked into a vacuum. Stone's mind spins in dizzying circles trying to comprehend what was just said, and once he's confirmed that she did indeed refer to Robotnik as his partner - is there another meaning of 'partner' in this context, perhaps? No, probably not - his brain continues its laborious churning trying to understand what might have compelled her to say such a thing. It takes him far too long to realize that he and Robotnik are still joined snugly at the elbow. Stone's face flushes in humiliation. They've been strolling arm in arm like lovers. How did Stone not realize what this must have looked like…?

He glances at Robotnik in immediate concern, assuming the Doctor would be furious or embarrassed or both. Robotnik's expression is one he's never seen him wear before. He looks flustered, perhaps a little shell-shocked, but Stone can't find a trace of anger or embarrassment on his face or in his posture.

It's bound to be awkward correcting her, but Stone needs to set the record straight before Robotnik's discomfort turns into something nastier. "No, uh, we're not–"

"Jumbo hotdog," Robotnik cuts him off, his voice unusually hoarse. "With mushrooms."

Chapter Text

The next couple of minutes go by at a snail's pace. After he'd ordered, Robotnik made a beeline for the sitting area, leaving Stone to wait for their food. Stone is more than happy to do that, mostly to take a little time to get himself together.

It's embarrassing how flustered he is. He's a middle-aged man, a former shadow ops agent-turned-minion aiding in world domination. He has helped topple foreign governments, assassinated fascist dignitaries, and eliminated countless national security threats. But somehow, having a complete stranger refer to Robotnik as his 'partner' has his heart beating a mile a minute.

Realistically, though, it was less about the stranger mistaking them for partners and more about Robotnik doing nothing to correct the misunderstanding.

It probably means nothing. It would be more effort to correct her than to simply move on, after all. The only reason Stone thought to correct her was to avoid upsetting Robotnik.

He's trying not to look as frazzled as he feels as he carries their food to the table. He sits opposite Robotnik, watching cautiously as Robotnik grabs his mushroom-smothered hotdog and takes a big bite out of it, avoiding Stone's eyes.

They eat in silence for a few minutes. It's normal to be quiet while eating, Stone reminds himself, but he can't help but worry that Robotnik is upset. Perhaps Stone didn't correct the woman quickly enough, and Robotnik was truly mortified over the mix-up. Whatever may have been going on, Stone has long known that apologizing preemptively was usually the best move.

"I'm sorry, sir," Stone says, and for the first time since they'd started eating, Robotnik's head whips in Stone's direction. "If I've done anything to offend you, or upset you–"

"What the hell are you talking about, all of a sudden?" Robotnik demands.

Stone blinks at him. "I… I just thought– You seemed a little, uh, distant, so I thought…"

Robotnik groans. "You thought what? You were being too helpful? Too doting, perhaps?" He rolls his eyes. "I'm just thinking, Stone."

Stone's relief is palpable. "Sorry for assuming, Doctor." A beat of silence follows Stone's words, long enough that Stone worries that perhaps whatever is on Robotnik's mind is troubling him. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, is everything alright?"

Robotnik sighs hugely. "I'm realizing I don't know much about you outside of our association with each other," he says sullenly. "On the other hand, you know absolutely everything about me. That imbalance wouldn't have bothered me a little while ago, but now we're 'friends' and I'm finding it… Unsavory."

Stone blinks at him. "What brought this on?"

Robotnik throws his hands in the air. "You have a whole life here, Stone! There's a man in the market who knows you crochet. You've had his wife's scones. You know these streets like the back of your hand, you took art history for two years…" He sighs. "I think I've learned more about you today than I have in the last several years."

Stone's face is burning. He's still not used to Robotnik taking an interest in him like this, and it's difficult to know how to react without seeming overeager and putting Robotnik off entirely.

"My life here in Norwich isn't my life, Doctor. It's Sam Brooktin's life."

Robotnik scoffs. "Living under an assumed identity is still living, we both know that. Besides, you've only been here for the last few months. There's still terabytes of data about the years before that I don't have."

No one knows better than Stone how heated Robotnik can get when the information he desires is out of his reach. Stone isn't certain how he should respond, however. Should he encourage it? Should he offer up some information? He isn't sure what he should even start with. Fortunately, Robotnik saves him the trouble of agonizing about it for too long.

"I suppose… I should ask you questions." Robotnik begins hesitantly. "About yourself."

Stone's throat feels terribly dry. He should have ordered them drinks. "I-if that's what you want, sir, I'll answer any question you have for me."

"Good." Robotnik crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat, leveling Stone a scrutinizing frown. After several moments pass and not a single question passes Robotnik's lips, he clears his throat awkwardly. "I have no idea what to ask you."

Fifteen minutes worth of stress and confusion and overall worrying over nothing finally bubbles to the surface, and suddenly Stone is laughing. He laughs so much he has to cover his mouth just to keep from making too much of a scene.

"How dare you!" Robotnik barks. His face is flushed entirely crimson. "Stop laughing this instant!"

Stone has to wipe a tear from his eye. He regains enough composure to talk, though his speech is interrupted by uncontrollable giggles. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm not making fun of you, it's just… You're just so bad at this, is all."

Robotnik groans and rubs his face irritably. "I'm new at all this 'friend' stuff, okay?!"

Seeing Robotnik in distress - even if it's rather humorous - helps Stone calm down. He offers Robotnik an apologetic smile. "There's no need to explain, sir. You're not doing anything wrong."

Robotnik leans his chin in his hand, looking purposefully away. "You're the first and only friend I've ever had, Stone," he says, cheeks dusted pink. "I have no idea how any of this works."

Stone's smile slowly dissolves. Was Robotnik concerned he wasn't being a good friend? And, more worryingly, was he taking Stone's devotion to him as an example of typical friend behavior? Stone couldn't possibly explain to Robotnik that his devotion - which bordered on obsession at times - went so far beyond friendship it wasn't even in the ballpark anymore, but he could certainly try to assuage Robotnik's concerns.

"Truthfully," Stone begins gently, "I don't know much more about friendship than you do, sir."

Robotnik shoots him a suspicious glare. "Oh, don't even try. You're a people person, Stone. I see how you talk to people, it comes so naturally to you."

Stone chuckles. "It really doesn't," he says. "I'm pleasant and personable with people because I have to be, not because I want to be."

Robotnik's eyes narrow. "Elaborate."

Stone leans his arms on the table, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "It's just a survival skill, I guess. I've never connected with other people or had any real desire to forge relationships with anyone. But I learned pretty quickly that people like me get singled out. We draw attention to ourselves. So I learned to play along, to smile, to gain people's trust. It made them lower their guard around me, it gave me the upper hand. Life just seemed so much easier when I was well-liked, so I honed that skill and wore it like a suit of armor."

Robotnik watches him quietly, his eyes showing a flicker of surprise.

"If certain aspects of friendship seem difficult to you, sir, it's not because you're inept. It's because you've always been bold enough to be your authentic self despite what the world demanded of you. It's one of the things I've always loved about you, Doctor. You refused to conform to society's expectations of niceties or etiquette. You've always marched to the beat of your own drum because you knew what you were worth, and I've always seen how much harder you've had to work because of it."

"Well," Robotnik begins, his voice much softer than before, "I hope you know you've never had to don that suit of armor around me, Stone."

Stone smiles. "I know, sir. You were the first person I felt like I could be myself around, actually." It was deeper than that, of course, but Stone couldn't elaborate without admitting to much, much more. Robotnik was the first person Stone wanted a connection with, the first person he fell in love with, and the first person he desired, all in one. The first and only.

"Wait," Robotnik suddenly says, surprised, "Did I just learn something new about you?"

Stone laughs again. "See? There's nothing you don't excel at, Doctor. You're magnificent as always."

Robotnik swats the air in Stone's direction, but Stone catches the way the corners of his mouth pull up. "Enough ass-kissing, Stone. Finish your food."

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.

The credits of the latest episode scroll quickly across the screen while passionate music plays, leaving two men and a hedgehog in utter disbelief.

Stone shakes his head. "I can't believe I forgot about the dumpster baby again."

"I told you it'll always come back around," Robotnik hums.

Shadow is sitting between Robotnik and Stone on the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "These shows are insidious," he growls. "They purposefully end every episode on a cliffhanger so you feel pressured to watch the next episode immediately."

Robotnik snorts. "Why do you think I binged three seasons of La Última Pasión in two days?"

"I remember that," Stone says seriously. "You didn't sleep. You barely blinked."

Shadow exhales deeply and rises to his feet. "Make sure not to watch the next episode without me," he cautions as he heads out of the living room towards the front door. "I want to know what happens to that woman being held hostage by that baby with a gun."

"Hold up," Robotnik barks, repositioning to shoot a glare at Shadow, "where the hell are you going all of a sudden?"

"Nowhere," Shadow replies, perhaps a little too quickly, with an uncharacteristic break in his voice. He clears his throat, opening the door. "Don't worry about it. I'll be back later." The door shuts behind him, and Stone muses for a moment about how strange it is to see Shadow use a door properly. It's a rare event, indeed.

Robotnik harumphs. "Where the hell does an alien anthropomorphic hedgehog need to be at two in the afternoon?!"

Stone can't stop himself from smiling. Lately, it seemed like Robotnik actually enjoyed having Shadow around. At some point over the last few months, it's almost like they'd accidentally formed a strange little family, though Stone doubted Robotnik would ever admit that out loud. All three of them were alone in the world - no family or friends or connections to speak of outside of one another - and had all been shunned by the world in one way or another. It was strange, but it worked.

"He's basically an extraterrestrial teenager," Stone points out. "I doubt he wants to spend all his time with the two of us when he could teleport anywhere on Earth."

"It's not like I want him here all the time!" Robotnik exclaims defensively. "He's already hanging around way too much. He keeps eating all my chips. Sorry, my 'crisps'."

Robotnik's Norwich accent was getting a little too good. Stone turns toward Robotnik, pulling his knees to his chest. "I have an idea where he's been disappearing to lately," Stone says with a sad grin, "but you're not going to like it."

Robotnik stares at Stone for a moment in quiet contemplation. Quickly, his expression twists in indignation. "No."

"Yes," Stone chuckles. "I'm pretty sure he's spending time with Team Sonic."

Robotnik makes a long, drawn-out gagging noise. "That sneaky little traitor!" he hisses. "I should have known. That blue ball of misery has an annoying habit of converting other space rodents to join his band of do-gooders."

Stone smiles, resting his chin on his knees. "I don't think he's betraying us," he says. "Trust me, Doctor. Shadow will talk about it when he's ready. I think he's a little embarrassed, and probably worried we'll be mad at him."

Robotnik's outraged demeanor deflates. He glances at Stone curiously. "You really believe he cares what we think?"

"I do," Stone replies. "I think he cares a lot, actually, he just acts like he doesn't." He slaps his hands on his knees, swinging his legs around in preparation to finally peel himself off of the couch. They've been lounging on the couch binging telenovelas for so long, he needs to get up and stretch his legs. "Would you like me to get lunch started, Doctor?"

Stone catches the way Robotnik winces when he repositions. "I'm not hungry. I'll eat later."

"Is your shoulder hurting?" Stone asks, immediately concerned. Robotnik sighs.

"You can be upsettingly perceptive sometimes," he says wryly. Despite his obvious reluctance, he nods. "Don't worry, Stone. It just aches, that's all."

"Would you like a massage, sir?"

The words leave Stone's mouth before he takes the proper time to consider how they might sound with zero context, but once they're out, they're out. Robotnik shoots him an indecipherable look and Stone inwardly panics, scrambling to explain himself.

"I've been researching late-stage rehabilitation," Stone says hastily. "Massaging the healing areas can help increase blood flow, relieve tension and pain, help keep the skin flexible, and break down scar tissue. I think you're at the point where your skin can handle some gentle friction, so I've been meaning to talk to you about it. If you're not comfortable with the idea, though, I understand."

Robotnik outwardly relaxes. He glances away, scratching his fingers absently through his hair. "You were washing me for a while there, Stone. You've seen me at my worst. A massage seems pretty tame by comparison."

Stone tries very hard to act calm despite his heart doing pathetic backflips in his chest. "I suppose that's true," he answers with a smile. He stands, suddenly wishing he was wearing something more professional-looking than a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants. That may have helped all of this feel less intimate. "I just need to grab your medicated lotion and I'll be right back, sir."

Robotnik grunts an affirmative as Stone leaves to grab the lotion, his face burning hot. Once again, he worried this was overstepping. How close was too close, anyway? Sometimes Stone wasn't certain what he and Robotnik were to each other anymore.

And for your partner?

It was such a ridiculous thing to fixate on, but Stone couldn't help it. It's been two weeks since a woman at the market mistook them for a couple, and two weeks since Robotnik didn't confirm or deny her assumption. It probably meant nothing. It definitely meant nothing, but somehow Stone couldn't get it out of his head. And he couldn't ask Robotnik about it, because once he asked, nothing would become something. And if it became something, it might make Robotnik uncomfortable. It might destroy whatever it is they are.

Stone tries to put it out of his mind as he returns with the lotion, finding Robotnik exactly where he left him on the couch. Robotnik is similarly dressed for coziness, wearing black joggers and a black v-neck under a colorful cardigan Stone has recently crocheted for him. Seeing Robotnik so comfortable and tame always puts Stone's heart in a stranglehold - he enjoys seeing Robotnik outfitted for lab work and nefarious business just as much, but there's something about the reverse that Stone just adores.

By now, it's almost routine for Robotnik to pull his shirt off so that Stone can treat his wounds, so much so that neither one of them says a word as Robotnik shoulders off his cardigan and removes his shirt, waiting patiently for Stone to do whatever he needs to do. For a moment, Stone feels a little bit foolish. This wasn't any different than anything else they'd been doing for months now. Once again, Stone was applying intimacy when there simply wasn't any. This was just another important step in Robotnik's ongoing recovery.

Stone sits cross-legged behind Robotnik, opening the bottle of lotion and emptying a dollop onto his fingers. "If anything starts to hurt, tell me immediately," Stone instructs softly. Robotnik hums. Stone's eyes trace Robotnik's shoulder and down his back, taking a moment to assess the affected areas. Although there was still some discoloration - there likely always will be, considering how long Robotnik went without properly taking care of his injuries - Robotnik's skin has healed beautifully. Stone could still remember how heart-wrenchingly horrible his skin grafts looked when he'd first observed them - bloody and raw, the new skin barely adhering to the old - and seeing how much he's improved brings Stone more joy than anything else in the world.

Stone begins by gently rubbing Robotnik's shoulder with only the pads of his fingers, massaging the lotion carefully into Robotnik's skin. He doesn't want to use too much force right away. The skin is healed but it's still sensitive, and the last thing Stone wants to do is cause more discomfort.

"How is it so far, Doctor? Are you alright?" Stone asks. Robotnik snorts a soft laugh.

"I'm not made of glass, Stone. You've been taking egg-cellent care of me–" He tilts his head back just slightly to ensure Stone caught his pun - he did, of course, Robotnik's egg puns are second to none, "-and thanks to your tireless efforts, I'm doing better than ever. Stop worrying so much."

He can't help but worry, really; worrying was part of his job, more or less, and even though he's technically unemployed now, worrying about Robotnik is baked into his DNA at this point.

Still, Robotnik has a very flattering point. Stone applies more pressure, meticulously kneading the area exactly the way he'd studied. "Noted, sir."

"So you're a masseuse now, too?" Robotnik asks, relaxing into Stone's ministrations. "Please don't tell me you took two years of massage therapy."

Stone chuckles. "No, this is a new skill I'm trying out. I'm starting small for now - I don't want to attempt deep-tissue massages until I can ensure I'm doing it correctly."

"Well," Robotnik starts, "so far, you seem more than adept."

Another compliment. Stone's face gets hot again. "Thank you, Doctor."

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence for a time as Stone works on Robotnik's shoulder and back, paying attention to the subtle indications that Robotnik is enjoying what he's doing - his steady breathing, the occasional soft sound that's somewhere between a hum and a more intimate noise, and how relaxed his muscles are under Stone's touch.

After spending a good amount of time on Robotnik's back, he repositions, stationing himself at Robotnik's right side, half straddling his leg to better access Robotnik's arm.

"Sir," Stone starts as he begins massaging Robotnik's upper arm, "do you ever intend to go back to streaming?"

Robotnik glances at Stone curiously, raising a brow. "Why do you ask?"

"I've just been wondering lately if you were interested in giving it another shot," Stone grins. "You seemed to like it."

Robotnik groans. "Not particularly. Besides - there's no way I could come back after a final livestream that explosive. I'm sure it's clipped in every single 'Top 10 Most Shocking Livestreams' video by now. Trying to cash in on that would be beyond cringe."

Stone sometimes forgets that the entire world saw that livestream and the message that was meant only for him. It's been reposted thousands of times since, too, which was a little bit like airing out their dirty laundry in front of billions of people.

"That makes sense," Stone says.

Silence prevails again, though this time Stone can feel Robotnik's arm muscles tense under his fingers. Stone's hands slowly pause, sliding up to gently rest on Robotnik's shoulder. "Doctor? Is–"

"What about you?" Robotnik cuts him off, his voice soft and questing.

"Me, sir?"

"No, the other person in here giving me a massage," Robotnik retorts, but his tone lacks its usual bite. His eyes are searching Stone's earnestly. "Yes, you. What are you planning on doing? After– after all this."

Stone almost asks what 'this' Robotnik is referring to, but he stops himself. He already knows. Taking care of Robotnik, living together with him, spending time with him. Their whole strange, undefined situation is the 'this'. Truthfully, Stone has been thinking about that a lot lately, too.

"I'm not sure," Stone admits.

"You haven't thought about it, even a little?" Robotnik continues. "I know you, Stone. You have a plan for everything."

"So do you," Stone counters. "I'm more focused on your recovery right now, Doctor. Planning for the future can come later."

"It is later, Stone. I'm recovered, you can see that for yourself. I'm asking what's next for you."

Stone's heart is beating so hard he's sure Robotnik can hear it thumping against his ribcage. They're so close Stone can feel Robotnik's body heat radiating against him, can feel Robotnik's soft breath fall over his face.

"I haven't really considered it," Stone says. He's being evasive, he knows that, but he wasn't prepared for this question today. He has thought about it, but he could never tell Robotnik how much he wishes they could be together, how badly he wants him, wants to be loved by him. "Why are you asking me this?"

Robotnik's features soften. "Friends talk about these things, or so I understand."

Stone's chest constricts painfully. He isn't sure what to say anymore. He's so dangerously close to saying or doing something incredibly stupid, something he's been keeping perfectly under control for almost a decade–

All remaining thoughts left in Stone's chaotic brain come to a screeching halt when the sudden, unexpected sensation of cool metal gliding across his cheek interrupts them, titanium fingertips touching the side of Stone's face with uncharacteristic hesitancy. Robotnik's touch is gentle, almost tender; his fingers trace along Stone's cheek and down to his chin, his prosthetic thumb tracing the curve of Stone's mouth.

Stone can't breathe. Personal space has always been non-existent between them, but this is different. In the past, Robotnik loved to invade Stone's personal bubble at every opportunity, and Stone was never averse to it. The physical contact they so casually displayed perked eyebrows almost everywhere they went, but Robotnik was never so tender with him. It was arm grabs and shoving him against walls or consoles, it was sitting in each other's laps for the occasional task or getting elbowed or thwacked in the sternum just for kicks. It was never this; soft touches and words and those lingering looks that remind Stone so strongly of that final livestream when Robotnik finally said the words Stone had always longed to hear, the words they still haven't talked about.

"Is this all we are, Stone?" Robotnik asks softly. His eyes are soft and beseeching. "Friends?"

"I…" A thousand thoughts and feelings are flying through Stone's mind, too fast and too frantic to make any sense of anything. His heart feels like it's going to explode. "I don't know."

It takes very little coaxing for Robotnik to pull Stone closer, and when their lips come together, Stone can almost feel the previously impenetrable dam that holds the magnitude of his feelings for Robotnik shatter into a thousand pieces.

Chapter Text

Years before

"Oh my god, it's true."

A familiar voice speaks in a hushed tone just behind Stone's left shoulder. He continues packing his few personal items in the most stereotypical emptying-your-desk cardboard box he's ever seen in his life.

"'Top secret' doesn't mean much around here, does it?" Stone says with a chuckle. He knew it would only be a matter of time before word got around that he was leaving the department. The owner of the voice - Agent Juniper, Stone's coworker of almost two years - moves around to the front of his desk, leaning on it to level Stone an incredulous stare.

"Kinda hard to keep top-secret intel from a department whose job is to collect sensitive intel," Juniper points out. "Stone, you can't be serious. Shadow ops?"

Stone is just now realizing he doesn't have many personal items. Oh, well. He places the sci-fi book he's halfway through into the box and closes it up. "I'm not at liberty to talk about it, but if I were, I might say that I'm excited for the opportunity. And you should be happy for me, too."

Juniper half-gasps, half-laughs. "Happy for you? You do realize your new boss is gonna be Robotnik, right?"

"Doctor Robotnik," Stone corrects. "And yes. I'm meeting him shortly."

Agent Juniper moves around to Stone's side of the desk, hopping up to sit on the edge. "Stone, I'd like to think we've developed a certain camaraderie these last three years, right?"

Has it been three? Stone wasn't really keeping track. He didn't care about Agent Juniper any more than he cared about the rest of his coworkers - which was to say, not very much at all - but it was important to maintain a friendly workplace persona. "Of course."

"Right. So hopefully I've earned the right to tell you that you've officially lost your mind."

Stone shakes his head. "I know he has a reputation–"

"A reputation?" Juniper laughs. "I hear he's an absolute psycho!"

Stone's carefully crafted friendly workplace persona is struggling to stay friendly. "The work he does is monumentally important, and he's one of the smartest men who has ever lived. He's bound to be a little eccentric."

"Oh my god," Juniper gasps, "You're fanboying right now. Jesus, Stone! The man's a well-known agent-eater. He's chased off every head of security he's ever had, and some of them have never been heard from again!"

Stone grins. "Well, that's probably why the position opened up."

"How can you joke at a time like this?" Juniper hisses. "Robotnik is a dangerous man, a lot more dangerous than the usual wackos we have to deal with."

"He's the head of the shadow ops program, Juniper. Of course he's dangerous. That's the business he's in, that's the business we're in."

Juniper frowns, rolling her eyes in resignation. "Okay, but still."

All chatter in the office is immediately snuffed out when the doors at the front of the room blow open and a team of agents file inside in a familiar diamond formation, a striking and extremely intimidating figure in the center of the formation. Juniper grabs Stone's arm from behind.

"Jesus, that's him!"

Doctor Ivo Robotnik walks disinterestedly with his security team, his expression set in a scowl. All eyes are glued to the procession, mostly out of fear, but some - like Stone - are watching in fascination. Robotnik is clad in black from head to toe, his jacket's geometric tails flying behind him as they head through the bullpen. Stone watches him go, wide-eyed. There's a certain magnetism to Doctor Robotnik that Stone can't deny; his very presence is intimidating and unapproachable. He's surprisingly handsome despite how hard he's attempting to be off-putting, or perhaps that's just Stone's opinion. The procession is out of sight in an instant, having headed directly toward Commander Walter's office.

A sharp beep from the communicator in Stone's pocket snaps him out of his embarrassing daze. He pulls it out and answers.

"Yes, sir?"

"Agent Stone, grab a latte and report to my office, asap. …The latte is for Doctor Robotnik, he's requesting one."

-

After quickly obtaining a latte from the breakroom, Agent Stone hurries to Walter's office.

A little thrill shoots through Stone. He's going to meet Ivo Robotnik. The thought is a little surreal. It wasn't entirely accurate to say that Stone was a fan of Doctor Robotnik - there was so little information about him available since ninety percent of the shadow ops program's activities are classified - but he had a certain fascination and respect for him that seemed to be rare in his department. How could anyone not covet the chance to meet the most brilliant man alive?

Stone adjusts his suit and tie and pulls the door open, latte in hand. Commander Walters is sitting behind his desk, already looking exasperated, and Robotnik stands in front of the desk with his arms crossed. The security team stands against the far wall, hands joined at their waists. All eyes blow toward Stone as he enters.

"Agent Stone," Walters says, gesturing for him to come in. Stone closes the door behind him and walks into the room. "Thank you for joining us."

"Yes, thank you so much," Robotnik says, his voice dripping with mocking sarcasm. "I've been waiting on pins and needles to meet my brand-new security head that I was tricked into accepting."

"No one tricked you," Walters reminds pacifyingly. "I told you weeks ago that we were looking to fill the position."

Robotnik groans. "Why fill it at all? I've told you over and over again that all I need are squishy, stupid, knuckle-dragging bullet-absorbers in suits to follow me around and my babies can take care of the rest. The only person I trust with my security is me."

Walters shoots Stone an apologetic look. "Agent Stone is an exemplary agent, Doctor. He's more than qualified to assist you."

Stone's shoulders reflexively straighten. "It's an honor to meet you, Doctor Robotnik," he says brightly. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

A smile slowly shapes Robotnik's lips. "Oh, I bet you are."

He doesn't believe Stone's sincerity, of course, but Stone didn't expect him to. That was fine. Doctor Robotnik seems like the kind of man who values actions much more than words. Stone is the same. He moves closer and extends the latte for Robotnik to take, offering him a smile.

"Your latte, Doctor."

Without breaking eye contact, Robotnik takes the latte, flexing his gloved fingers around the warm cup. He raises the cup to his lips and takes a sip - immediately after, he launches the cup at the nearest wall, the latte exploding on impact and drenching the wall and floor.

Walters sighs forlornly. "I don't know how I keep falling for that."

Robotnik flies at Stone, closing the distance between them, looming so close they're almost nose to nose. Stone barely flinches. "Too hot, too much foam, not enough espresso," he hisses, counting off on his fingers. "Pro-tip: brush up on how to make a decent latte, or your very brief time with me will be even more unpleasant than it already promises to be. No agent has lasted longer than two weeks with me. Do you wanna know why? Mainly it's because my standards are as high as my IQ, but it's also because every human who has ever been assigned to me has been so achingly useless and stupid that it drains every last shred of my paper-thin patience. You'll be no different."

Stone should be quaking in his boots, reconsidering this assignment and possibly his own sanity for accepting it in the first place. He should be, but he isn't. All Stone can do is marvel at Robotnik's confidence and power and how electric the air feels around him. He's even more incredible in person.

"I'm sure I'm stupid compared to you, Doctor, but I refuse to be useless," Stone replies evenly. "I will do anything and everything you require of me, sir. Whatever you need, you can count on me."

Fleetingly, Stone thinks he sees a flicker of surprise in Robotnik's cold, dark eyes.

.

.

.

For almost as long as Stone has known Robotnik, he's routinely imagined what it would be like to kiss him.

It wasn't intentional, at least not all the time. At first, he tried to keep those sorts of unprofessional thoughts buried deep in his psyche; it didn't feel right to have intimate fantasies about someone he worked for without their knowledge or consent, especially since the person in question was not interested in those kinds of relationships to begin with. Eventually, Stone realized it was futile to repress his feelings for Robotnik, and allowed himself to have his impossible, wistful thoughts on occasion, while still maintaining professionalism with Robotnik at all times - well, professional for them, anyway. His fantasies were only that.

Perhaps that's why he feels like he's dreaming when Robotnik pulls him in and kisses him like he's starving for him.

As far as Stone knows, there is no reality where Doctor Ivo Robotnik could or would ever kiss him, so it stands to reason that this is some kind of dream or hallucination - that's the logic he's operating on as he slowly slides his arms around Robotnik's neck, carefully and experimentally deepening the kiss. The feeling of Robotnik's lips against his is electric, it's overwhelming, and Robotnik responds eagerly, his hands slipping to Stone's waist and holding him tightly. A shudder flies through Stone at the touch. He's overflowing. Oh god, he's overflowing, every drop of his love for Robotnik pouring out of him all at once like a terrifying flood. The dam is broken and gone and Stone suddenly realizes it can never be rebuilt.

Stone's heart races and his mind spins as he tries to process what's happening. The kiss feels so real, so intense that he can barely breathe. Robotnik's hands feel like they're burning through his clothes, igniting every nerve. Whatever self-restraint Stone was still clinging to is flung away, forgotten. Stone climbs into Robotnik's lap, kissing Robotnik with barely restrained passion, desperate for closeness.

Robotnik seems to feel similarly. His hands find the hem of Stone's shirt and slide underneath, fingers spreading over Stone's back. Stone makes a completely involuntary noise at the touch - it occurs to him only then that he touches Robotnik a lot more than the reverse, and feeling the pads of Robotnik's fingers rake across his bare skin is overstimulating in the best way.

Stone arches into the touch, craving more contact. His own hands move to Robotnik's shoulders, gripping tightly as if to anchor himself in this moment. The kiss deepens, tongues exploring, tasting. Stone's head is swimming, overwhelmed by Robotnik's touch and his warmth and his unexpected passion.

Robotnik breaks the kiss, trailing his lips along Stone's jaw and down to his neck. Stone tilts his head, offering better access with a soft gasp. The scrape of Robotnik's mustache against his sensitive skin sends shivers down his spine.

"Stone," Robotnik whispers against his throat, sending a potent wave of longing rocketing through Stone's body.

The soft, reverent sound of Robotnik's voice snaps Stone out of it, the clouds of shock and arousal clearing from his mind just enough for the reality to set in. This isn't a dream, and it isn't one of his fantasies. Robotnik kissed him, really kissed him, and although he knows he should be nothing but elated, for reasons Stone can't understand it terrifies him.

Stone places his hands on Robotnik's chest and pushes them apart. Robotnik's eyes are round and surprised, his breath coming out in rough pants, his pale face flushed. Stone's chest wrenches at the sight, and for a moment he considers ignoring his misgivings and burying them so far down they can never bother him again, but he already knows he can't.

For a moment, neither of them says a word. The air around them is tense and unnatural; Stone regrets the concern he can now see etching itself into Robtonik's features.

"Is… Something wrong?" Robotnik asks, barely above a whisper.

Stone isn't entirely sure how to answer. His brain is still running on half power and his emotions are betraying him. Something painful is bubbling to the surface, something he's tried to dismiss these last few months to absolutely no avail.

"Why now?" Stone asks him. His voice comes out as more of a croak.

Robotnik's eyes grow even wider. "What?"

Stone steals a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm down. "Why are you doing this? Why now?"

Robotnik's face achieves a whole new shade of pink. "I… I thought that might be obvious," he replies uncertainly. "If you didn't want me to, I–"

"Of course I want you to," Stone cuts him off hotly. He gently holds Robotnik's face, leveling him an earnest look. "You have to know by now, right? How I feel about you?"

Robotnik watches him carefully, trying to decipher his expression. "I may have an idea, now."

Stone sighs. "I've been in love with you for years, Doctor," he says, and the change in Robotnik's eyes tells Stone that Robotnik didn't have an idea, actually. His hands fall to Robotnik's shoulders. "That's why I want to know why this is happening now."

Robotnik rarely looks like he's at a loss for words, but Stone's inquiries seem to be affecting the language center of his brain. After a few moments of stunned silence Stone slowly gets up, putting a small bit of distance between them. It seems inappropriate to be straddling Robotnik's lap while they're trying to figure things out. The change in proximity seems to jumpstart Robotnik's brain.

"We've been spending a lot of time together lately," Robotnik tries to explain, pulling his shirt back on.

Stone shoots him a wounded look. "We've always spent a lot of time together, sir," he points out. "We spent two years in the crab together. I tried so hard to make you happy, but sometimes - most of the time - it was like I wasn't even there. I'm not trying to blame you for what you were going through, I know you were having a tough time, but…" Stone stops himself. He knows that if he continues, he's going to say things he can't possibly unsay.

Robotnik must feel it, too. His jaw tightens. "But what?"

Stone looks away. He crosses his arms over his chest. "As soon as your grandfather popped up, it was almost like you couldn't drop me fast enough. I appreciate everything you said after the fact, but we could have done this," he vaguely gestures between the two of them, still disheveled from their kiss, "anytime. So why now?"

"Why not?" Robotnik snaps, softly but headedly. "I can't have a change of heart?"

"Of course you can, but I don't think that's what this is," Stone counters.

Robotnik groans in frustration. "Fine! I want us to be together, Stone. Okay?" Stone's heart squeezes painfully. He's wanted to hear those words for so long, but not like this. "Why does it matter when I figured that out?"

Stone turns to face Robotnik, his arms falling to his sides. "If Gerald wanted to rule the world with you, if he hadn't betrayed you and tried to destroy Earth, would you have ever spoken to me again?"

Robotnik's lips part with the beginnings of a response, but nothing comes.

"It's my loyalty you like, Doctor," Stone says gently. "I'm the Agent Who Stayed. I have no regrets about that and I never will. But after your grandfather betrayed you and you almost died, I think I've become the convenient choice, not the one you really want. It may seem like I have no pride, sir, but I do. My pride is you - serving you, ensuring your safety and success - but that's as far as it can go. I don't want to be a placeholder. A lot has happened and I know it's been difficult for you, but I don't want those to be the reasons you want us to be together."

A ringing silence falls over the apartment. Robotnik's expression is completely indecipherable. He doesn't look particularly angry or sad or anything inbetween, really, and Stone's stomach feels sick when he realizes that he must be right. Whatever feelings Robotnik has developed for him lately are a result of the recent loss of his only family and his near-death experience, nothing more.

There was a small, pathetic part of him that wanted Robotnik to deny it, wanted him to insist that he was just as deeply in love with Stone as Stone was with him. But no words come. Robotnik merely lowers his head in a stiff nod, a wordless affirmation. Something indescribably painful rips through Stone's heart. He feels hollowed out. Numb.

"I'll make us some lunch, Doctor," Stone says cheerfully, the words pouring out of his mouth before he can stop them. He's grasping for normalcy, he's trying to bring them both back to a time before this happened, before Stone experienced the greatest joy of his life and then ruined it all by opening his big mouth. He forces a pleasant smile. "If you're still not hungry, I can set it aside for you."

As Stone heads to the kitchen, the warmth of the kiss lingering cruelly on his lips, he hears Robotnik switch the TV back on.

Chapter Text

It's freezing tonight, like it has been every night recently. Stone is wearing his thicker coat and black scarf, but the wind blowing off the ocean is whipping through him like he's wearing nothing at all. Fortunately, he's no stranger to the cold; he'd almost lost some toes to frostbite during a mission in Siberia once, thus discovering the importance of insulated clothes and a good pair of wool socks.

When Stone tries to remember the last time he'd driven down to Trimingham Beach late at night, he almost can't. It's been so long since he's felt the need to be closer to the gentle rhythm of the ocean, especially since he's been in such high spirits lately. Sitting by the cliffs now - months after he's found out Robotnik is alive - feels like a bit of a betrayal. These cliffs were a place for him to grieve in peace, away from a world that could never understand what he'd lost.

Since their disastrous kiss days ago, Robotnik has been keeping his distance. He's been sleeping in later, spending less time in the apartment, and generally squirreling himself away in his room for longer and longer periods of time. At first Stone worried Robotnik was angry with him, but as time went on, that seemed less and less likely. Robotnik didn't seem irate. He seemed penitent. It was almost as if he didn't want to bother Stone with his presence. The idea of Robotnik tiptoeing around Stone so as not to offend him might have seemed completely absurd weeks ago, but that was before he'd kissed Stone and expressed a desire for them to be together.

It still didn't seem real. Stone might have assumed he'd dreamed it all up if the fallout wasn't so apparent.

Maybe Stone was grieving a little. His life has been so closely entwined with Robotnik's for so long, the awkward distance between them lately has made him feel like he's lost something. Something is broken and he doesn't know how to fix it. He hates not knowing how to fix it. Robotnik has depended on him for so many years that Stone isn't certain how to exist in a world where Robotnik isn't leaning on him for every little thing. He just wants things to go back to the way they were before. He wants to make Robotnik happy.

That's all he's ever wanted.

A sound that has recently become disturbingly familiar catches Stone's attention, a brief crackling of chaos energy creating a small tear in space-time. He doesn't have to look to know exactly who has just joined him. "Hello, Shadow."

Shadow drops down next to Stone, his legs swinging over the side of the cliff. "Hey."

Stone casts a slightly concerned glance at Shadow's fur-covered but otherwise clothingless body. "Aren't you freezing?"

Shadow frowns at him pointedly. "I can withstand the vacuum of space."

Stone laughs through his nose. "Ultimate lifeform, right. I almost forgot."

Shadow leans back, looking up at the starry night sky. "Look, I'm not great with this kind of thing so I'm just gonna come right out with it. What the hell is going on between you and Ivo?"

Well, that was inevitable. It doesn't make the question any less jarring, however. "Nothing's going on between us, Shadow. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I'm not a toddler," Shadow counters irately. "It's obvious something's happened. So are you going to talk about it, or are you two gonna keep pretending everything's normal when it clearly isn't?"

Stone sighs, his breath forming a cloud of freezing air. "It can't be that obvious, can it?"

"The fact that you think it isn't obvious is concerning," Shadow says. "The mood has been off for days. Ivo's barely leaving his room, and you're here sulking in the cold."

Stone feels a bit silly now. "Fair point."

"Let me guess," Shadow begins, "you two kissed or something, and now you're being weird about it."

Stone groans, covering his face in his hands. "That is annoyingly accurate."

"It's your fault for making me watch so many of those stupid shows," Shadow points out. "And speaking of, watching the two of you these last few months has been a lot like watching a very long, very painful will-they-won't-they episode from the one we're watching right now. So this is just the logical conclusion."

Stone sort of wishes he could walk into the ocean right about now. "Thank you for that very humiliating observation, Shadow."

Shadow stands up, kicking a few rocks off the side of the cliffs. He crosses his arms. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or not?"

Stone pulls his knees up, crossing his arms over them. "There's not much to tell. We had a miscommunication, I guess." He sighs helplessly. "It's private, okay? It's between me and the Doctor. I'm sure it will pass, eventually. And then…" he trails off, the words jammed painfully in his throat.

"And then?" Shadow probes.

Stone swallows, forcing the words out. "And then we can both move on. Go our separate ways, maybe." He shakes his head, looking back out at the sea. "I'm not sure."

A silence settles between them, filled by the gentle waves of the ocean sloshing up on the frozen beach. Shadow's quills sway gently in the cold breeze, but otherwise he remains completely still; Stone can feel his penetrating stare boring into him with undetermined purpose.

Finally, Shadow speaks. "You two are so stupid."

Stone's head snaps in Shadow's direction. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," Shadow growls. "One little mix-up and you're calling it quits? How old are you guys, anyway?"

"I never said that!" Stone snaps. "Listen - it's complicated. We both want different things, and–"

"You don't want different things, you want each other!" Shadow almost yells. He groans, rubbing his forehead. "You're both so oblivious. I thought bringing you two together would be enough, but clearly I overestimated you."

Despite how numb his face has become, Stone feels his cheeks grow warm in embarrassment. He frowns. "You still haven't told me why you brought us together in the first place, Shadow," he points out. "If there was a reason other than what you've already told me, you may as well tell me now."

Shadow shoots him an impatient glare. He shuts his eyes and sighs, sitting back down beside Stone, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ivo's not going to be happy about this," he mutters. "I already told you the most important reason. Ivo wasn't taking care of himself, and he wasn't accepting my help. At the rate things were going, he was going to die."

"That seems like a compelling enough reason on its own," Stone says softly.

"It is," Shadow agrees. "There's more, though. I admit I didn't really have a clear idea about the relationship between you two in the beginning. From my perspective, you two didn't seem particularly close. I was only with you briefly, and when Ivo abandoned you on Earth, well… You can see how I might have assumed you weren't interested in seeing each other again."

Stone only nods. It was still a sore spot, after all this time.

"Ivo wasn't big on chatting back then, so he never mentioned anything. One night, though, he got really sick. I think one of his wounds might have been infected - he had a high fever, and he was completely delirious. I got him medicine and did my best to keep him alive, but it was touch and go there for a minute."

Stone's heart squeezes painfully. He tries to remind himself that Robotnik has made a full recovery, but learning that he'd been so close to death's door is still heart-wrenching.

Shadow's gaze is far away, fixed out on the dark horizon. "He started hallucinating, I think. And that's when it all started coming out; his regret about leaving you behind, what he'd said to you, how much he cared about you, and how stupid he felt for figuring out his feelings right before blowing himself up. How it didn't matter anyway because he didn't deserve you. It all poured out of him like a flood, I couldn't get him to shut up."

Stone hears the words but he isn't sure how to react to them. His first instinct is to assume Shadow is lying or exaggerating, but he knows Shadow well enough by now to know he isn't a liar.

"All he could talk about was you. I guess you could say I put the pieces together after that. Once he was stable, I went to find you. Ivo checked up on you at some point and discovered you were living here in Norwich, which made my search a quick one."

Stone can barely feel the sting of the cold anymore. What did this change, exactly? Nothing, and somehow everything. Guilt sinks miserably into Stone's gut, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. What gave Stone the right to tell Robotnik how he was allowed to feel? He'd thought that Robotnik's brush with death and the betrayal from his only living family had driven him to take comfort in Stone after months of closeness and domesticity; he'd never once considered that Robotnik had been working out his feelings long before their reunion.

Stone recalls their conversation days ago and feels sick with himself. He'd gotten to say his piece, but he'd more or less shut Robotnik down before either of them could come to a real understanding. He was so certain Robotnik's feelings for him weren't genuine that he'd decided for both of them without even trying to understand where Robotnik was coming from.

BECAUSE YOU'RE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME!

Stone could still recall Robotnik's desperate words from the night they were reunited with perfect clarity. Why hadn't it occurred to Stone, even once, that Robotnik might be just as confused and scared about this shift in their dynamic as Stone was? That perhaps he was feeling just as discarded, just as unworthy of Stone's love?

Stone stands up, his heart in his throat. He needs to talk to Robotnik, properly this time.

"I'm heading home," Stone announces, walking past Shadow toward his bike.

"I'm not done," Shadow answers, his tone strangely heavy. The sound of it is concerning. Stone stops and turns, a wordless invitation to continue. Shadow's expression is apologetic. "There's something else you should probably know. If he hasn't told you yet, he's probably not planning to."

.

.

.

It was a miracle Stone hadn't been pulled over on the way home considering how fast he'd driven. He's operating on pure emotional impulsivity as he pulls open the front door and hurries through the apartment to Robotnik's room, forgetting niceties and privacy altogether as he throws open Robotnik's door and barrels inside.

Robotnik is where he usually is when he's spending time in his room; sitting at his desk with a holographic monitor pulled up in front of him, some impossibly complex schematics displayed on the screen. His fingers freeze over his keyboard when Stone barges in, shooting Stone a wide-eyed look of surprise tinged with outrage.

"Stone, what the–" Robotnik trails off when he takes a better look at the intruder, swiveling in his chair to face him. His expression shifts to one of concern. "What the hell happened?"

Stone realizes what he must look like; he hadn't even taken off his coat or shoes, and he's only just barely pulled his helmet off, holding it under his arm. He's out of breath and sweating despite coming in from the cold. His throat feels raw and tight and the sight of Robotnik sitting there makes Stone fill up with so much affection and despair that he has to bite his tongue to withhold a sob.

"Doctor," Stone begins, his voice shaking with emotion, "when were you going to tell me that you're dying?"

Now that the words are out there, there's absolutely no taking them back. Stone knows he could have said it more delicately or approached the whole topic with a lot more care, but for the life of him he can't manage it. He needs immediate confirmation, he needs to know what he's dealing with.

Robotnik watches Stone in silent bewilderment for a moment. His expression tells Stone everything he needs to know, but Stone still waits. Finally, Robotnik lowers his gaze and heaves a heavy sigh.

"Never," he answers softly. "Or sometime soon, maybe. I hadn't really decided."

Chapter Text

Stone's heart plummets into his stomach. He stands there, his breathing slowing as warmth and feeling slowly return to his face and limbs. It doesn't feel real. Stone has no idea what to say although dozens of panicked inquiries are spinning aimlessly through his mind, every one of them too loud and too incoherent to be helpful.

Slowly, wordlessly, Stone drops his helmet on the floor and removes his coat and scarf, leaving them in a pile. He removes his shoes, leaving them by the door as he gently pulls it closed. He then pads to Robotnik's bed, sitting on the edge. Then he waits. He isn't certain what he's waiting for, exactly, but he knows two things right now: one, he wants to be close to Robotnik, and two, he wants to talk about it. They need to talk about it. They can't keep skirting around important topics.

Robotnik sighs again and swivels his chair to face Stone's new perch on the bed. He rests his hands in his lap. "How did you figure it out?"

Lying about it would be pointless. "I didn't. It was Shadow," Stone says. "He found your notes about it in the crab."

Robotnik rolls his eyes. "I see. And he decided to hang onto that little gem for a rainy day?"

"Sir," Stone begins gently, "Tell me what's going on. Please."

Robotnik's jaw clenches in irritation. "Do we really have to do this, Stone? Do the details even matter?"

"They matter to me," Stone answers sternly. "Everything that's happening to you matters to me."

Robotnik's expression softens. He breathes in deeply through his nose, letting it out slowly. "If that pessimistic porcupine found my notes, I'm sure he's already filled you in. Official diagnosis: radiation poisoning, though it's a bit more complicated than that. The blast of chaos energy did more than just give me some burns and eat my hand, it appears."

Stone shakes his head. "No, but… You seem fine, Doctor. We've been spending so much time together, I would have noticed if you'd been sick!"

Robotnik smiles humorlessly. "I was confused at first too. Turns out, chaos energy has fittingly chaotic effects. Right after the blast, my cellular regeneration rate accelerated by quite a lot, or so the hospital records indicate. Once I got out of that awful place, I started monitoring my condition. For a little while I thought I was in the clear. The only side-effects seemed positive - my cells weren't just regenerating more quickly, they were younger. My body had been altered on a molecular level, de-aging me by roughly four and a half years." He chuckles. "I guess that clears up the mystery of how my grandfather managed to stay so functional despite his age."

It also clarifies why Robotnik looked a touch younger when they were first reunited. Stone joins his hands together in his lap just to ground himself. "I don't understand," he starts softly. "That sounds like a good thing, doesn't it?"

Robotnik offers a sad smile. "It would have been, if it had stopped there." He turns, pulling up some graphs and information on his monitor. He taps one of the graphs, and an outline of a human body appears. Robotnik drags his finger from the top of the screen and down, showing a time-lapse of the cellular structure inside the body. At first, all levels are in the green. As the time speeds up, patches of orange and red begin to bloom and grow inside of the body, until the entire body is filled in with red.

"My cells have begun to burn themselves out. Complete cellular degradation. I hypothesize that the blast of chaos energy was so concentrated that my body can't regulate the amount it was exposed to. Like a lightbulb being screwed into a power source that's too powerful for its wattage, it'll burn bright for a few seconds before it pops."

Stone's fingernails are digging into his knuckles. "How can you talk about it like this?" he asks hoarsely. "You're telling me this like you've discovered some fascinating new specimen."

Robotnik shrugs apologetically. "I've had a lot of time to come to terms with it, Stone. And as a scientist, I can't help but take an interest in the progression."

"The progression," Stone repeats bitterly, "What kind of timeframe are we talking about?"

Robotnik turns to his monitor again, dragging his finger across the screen. The image of the body goes from green to red once again, but he rewinds to somewhere in the middle. "At the rate things are going, I'll probably start feeling the full effects in a couple of weeks. After that, it's going to progress quickly."

Stone has no idea what to say. He feels numb. Robotnik can't die, because that would violate the natural order of the universe - that's what he's always believed. Finding out Robotnik was alive months ago more or less confirmed this theory to be true, Stone thought. Against all odds, the Doctor will survive. He's that extraordinary. The idea that he could die after all he'd already been through, after all the near-death experiences he'd already endured, after saving the world was cruel beyond measure.

"I wasn't trying to deceive you, Stone," Robotnik says softly, taking Stone's silence for discontent, "I just didn't want to do this to you again. It's why I didn't reach out. I didn't see the point in letting you painstakingly facilitate my recovery just to kick the bucket months later. But I guess I ended up doing that anyway, huh." He lowers his gaze, rubbing his hand over his mouth awkwardly. "...And then some."

Stone's chest tightens. All along, Robotnik had been trying to spare him from this. He'd resolved himself to die alone and in horrible pain rather than expose Stone to his slow decline; he hadn't denied Shadow's help out of pride, he just hadn't seen a point in trying to recover from his wounds when he knew the end was inevitable.

Something hot and powerful surges inside of Stone, starting in his belly and spreading to every part of him. It's strong enough that he stands up, his hands balled into fists.

"Okay," he says, "How do we fix this?"

Robotnik's head snaps up, his eyes round and vaguely unbelieving. "You think I can invent a cure? Just like that?"

"Yes!" Stone replies seriously, "You're Doctor Ivo Robotnik! I have never known you to fumble for a solution to anything, sir, aside from how to kill a certain blue hedgehog."

Robotnik hisses through his teeth. "I just told you I'm dying and you're bringing that up?"

Stone steps closer. "What I mean is, sir, I've never known you to give up. There has to be a solution."

Robotnik sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Sometimes you have to know when you're beat," he says heavily. "I spent most of my time in the crab trying to engineer a treatment. Unsurprisingly, no known substance on this pitiful blue planet can neutralize chaos energy."

Without fully realizing it, Stone begins pacing. He tries to organize his thoughts - which are very loud again, but at least now they're laser-focused on problem-solving - when he immediately realizes what Robotnik just said.

"No known substance on this planet," Stone says, turning back to Robotnik, "Sir, there's a whole universe out there that we could access if we can get our hands on some rings, which Shadow can easily do." He pops his fist into his palm. "Or even better, what about the meteor that brought Shadow to Earth? Surely G.U.N. still has some of it stashed away somewhere, right? If we could get a sample of it, then–"

Stone stops, momentarily taken off guard by Robotnik's expression. He looks too calm, too resigned, and suddenly the reality hits Stone like a freight train.

"You already know all this," Stone says, his arms falling to his sides. "Of course you do. This is the first thing you would have thought of."

Robotnik shrugs. "We might be able to visit various other planets, Stone, but there's not enough time to properly survey them. It would take years or even decades to pull off an operation like that, and even then, our search might be fruitless. The universe is infinite but it's also infinite. I don't even know what I'm looking for."

"Then what about the options that might exist on this planet?" Stone asks. "The meteor, or possible research that might already exist?"

"We obliterated Shadow Base in a rather flashy way, in case you've forgotten," Robotnik grumbles. "Erased from existence might be a better term, actually. There's no chance any research survived, if there was any to begin with."

Robotnik avoids Stone's eyes at all costs, but his body language is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Stone's mind whirls trying to understand why Robotnik would be attempting to avoid this avenue; he follows the logic to its most likely conclusion, and all of a sudden he realizes what the real crux of the issue is.

Stone slowly folds his hands at his waist. "Sir," he begins gently, "Your grandfather may have researched the effects of chaos energy exposure. He may have even found a cure. It could be sitting around somewhere in an old G.U.N. hard drive, or– or even somewhere like Prison Island. Have you even tried to look?"

Robotnik's expression warps instantly in disdain. "I don't need his help!" he snaps icily. "The last thing I want is to be saved by that doddering, senile, genocidal old psychopath!"

"So you'd rather die?" Stone challenges. Robotnik looks away, glowering. Stone is almost glad to see him being stubborn and difficult again, if only the stakes weren't so high this time. "Doctor, I understand your feelings toward your grandfather. You have every right to be angry, but right now I don't care about any of that. All I care about is saving your life."

Robotnik heaves another big sigh. "I'm not trying to die, Stone," he says forlornly. "This wasn't– It wasn't supposed to be like this. I did look for a cure… For a while, anyway. My injuries were so severe and my options were so depressingly limited that I just lost the motivation to continue what seemed like a pointless endeavor." Robotnik drags his hand over his mouth. "I thought to myself, what was the point? I'd already decided I wasn't going to burden you with all of this, and part of me felt like I was perpetually standing on the bridge of the Eclipse Cannon, waiting for the fiery explosion." He shrugs so defeatedly Stone can hardly stand it. "I was ready for death, I guess. And then you came back into my life. These last few months have been… nice. I allowed myself to forget about my impending doom and just live in the moment for a while. I knew it couldn't last, but... It was still nice."

With a quiet, steadying breath, Stone reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against Robotnik's jawline. The contact is soft, tentative, as if testing the weight of a fragile moment. Robotnik freezes for a moment, his sharp gaze flicking to Stone's hands, then back to his eyes. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he lets his eyelids flutter shut, the lines of tension around his face softening just a fraction. Holding Robotnik's face in his hands, Stone carefully guides them closer, touching their foreheads together.

"Doctor," he speaks softly, "I think we're both very bad at being friends."

Robotnik huffs a surprised laugh. He scarcely nods, his throat working in a visible swallow. "Agreed."

Stone's hands slide to the back of Robotnik's neck, interlocking his fingers. "If there's information or research out there that could help you - even if it's from Gerald Robotnik - I don't care how much it wounds your pride, sir, we're using it. I don't even care if you never want to speak to me again, so long as we find a cure in time."

Robotnik reaches up to hesitantly touch Stone's arm, almost as if he's asking permission to touch him.

"I'm not planning to stop talking to you anytime soon," Robotnik grumbles affectionately. Stone raises a brow at him, so he quickly adds, embarrassed, "That was one time, okay?! Can we both agree it was all my grandjerk's fault and move on?"

"Water under the bridge," Stone promises with a grin.

There's a beat of silence between them, soft and comfortable, where Stone does nothing but listen to the sound of Robotnik's steady breathing. Right now it's the most wonderful sound in the world, and he's overcome with a desire to ensure Robotnik continues breathing for as long as nature and science will allow.

"I won't survive losing you again," Stone says gently. He hears Robotnik's breathing hitch. "I know that sounds dramatic, Doctor, but it's the truth. I need you to promise me that there will be no more life-or-death secrets between us from now on, no matter what. Can you promise me that?"

Robotnik lets out a soft, unsteady breath. He nods gently. "Promise," he murmurs.

Slowly and reluctantly, Stone separates from Robotnik, noting the unmistakable flash of melancholy that flits over Robotnik's expression at the loss of Stone's touch. Stone feels similarly, which is why he carefully takes hold of Robotnik's organic hand, holding it tightly in his.

"You aren't burdening me, Doctor," Stone says firmly. "I think we've both realized by now that we're stronger if we work together, so let's do that and find a cure."

Robotnik's face is tinged pink. His fingers curl around Stone's carefully. "There's no guarantee we'll find anything."

"We have to start somewhere," Stone points out. "Shadow may have some information, maybe even a lead. We need to start by asking him."

"Fine," Robotnik sighs irritably. "If we must."

Stone gives Robotnik's hand a reassuring squeeze and releases him, heading to the door and pulling it open. Surprising him not even a little, Shadow is already standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression stern but otherwise indecipherable as always. Robotnik groans dramatically.

"Does privacy mean nothing to intergalactic hedgehogs?!"

Shadow steps into the room, unbothered. "These walls are paper thin. Whether I was outside the door or in the kitchen wouldn't make much of a difference."

"Time is of the essence right now, so it helps if you're all caught up," Stone says with a smile. "Shadow, do you know if any of the research from Shadow Base survived? Did G.U.N. back up any of that data before everything was shut down?"

"Probably," Shadow grumbles, "but I can do you one better. The Professor had another lab."

Robotnik rolls his eyes so hard his head follows the motion. "Of course he did."

"He didn't trust G.U.N. any more than I did, so he built it in secret and used it to store back-ups of his research and experiments, especially the stuff he didn't want the government to have access to," Shadow continues. "I think that's where he planned to take Maria and me if things went south."

"Are you sure it still exists after all this time?" Stone asks.

"No. But I know where it's located." Shadow sighs and places his hands on his hips. "If you two are done being mushy and gross, we can leave right now."

Chapter Text

Between Shadow remembering the lab's approximate location and the deployment of several probes, the door to the lab was relatively easy to find.

The door would have been invisible if it weren't for Robotnik's probe. The door is buried under several inches of sand and dirt, easily cleared away by Shadow in seconds. Robotnik taps the door with the heel of his boot, eyeing the keypad next to the handle. "Well… Surely a fifty-year-old password shouldn't be too hard to crack."

"I can force our way in," Shadow suggests.

"No," Stone warns, "I don't want to risk damaging anything inside, not until we've searched it top to bottom for anything that might help the Doctor."

Shadow's eyes narrow slightly, a distant, contemplative look in them as if he's digging through his thoughts for something specific. A moment later, he kneels down and punches a number sequence into the keypad, and just like that, a loud click can be heard on the other side of the door. Shadow experimentally pulls on the handle and the door swings up with a metallic creak, revealing a metal staircase leading down into the darkness.

Robotnik stares at Shadow in surprise. "How did you…? What was it?"

"Maria's birthday," Shadow answers softly. He hops down onto the first step. "Follow me, but not too close."

"Who put you in charge?" Robotnik demands, pulling his coat a little more tightly around himself. Despite being smack dab in the middle of the Nevada desert, Stone is glad he went with his gut and suggested they dress warmly. He knew from experience how chilly Nevada nights can be.

"I'm not trying to take charge," Shadow answers calmly, heading down the stairs. "But if there are any traps or biometric scanners that can shoot us ahead, I'm the only one here who can't die."

Robotnik clears his throat awkwardly. "I guess that's only fair," he mutters, trading a look with Stone before stepping through the door and heading down the stairs. Stone follows closely behind, content for once to leave matters of security to the super-powered immortal hedgehog in the lead so he can focus on making sure Robotnik makes it down the stairs safely without his cane.

The air inside the lab is thick with dust, each breath a reminder of years of neglect. Broken walls sag under the weight of time, jagged cracks spider-webbing through the once-sterile floors and walls. Light from an unknown source casts an eerie glow on the dilapidated machinery that line the walls, half-covered in dust and rust.

Stone's boots crunch over shards of glass and scattered debris; he sticks close to Robotnik's side, ready to assist in case of a trip or tumble over the uneven floor. Robotnik's leg has been doing much better lately, so Stone couldn't object to his decision to leave his cane at home, but that didn't mean he felt completely comfortable with Robotnik walking around for so long without aid.

Robotnik - outfitted with his control gloves today - releases a mini-nik from his glove, watching as it flies ahead and begins mapping their surroundings, sending it straight to Robotnik's glove display. While they wait, Stone shines a flashlight over the walls, locating a cobweb-covered wall switch. He follows the power conduits connected to the switch box with the beam of his flashlight, realizing rather quickly that it must be the main light switch. He flips it on, and even though it hasn't been flipped in fifty years, the ceiling lights flicker on as if no time has passed.

Robotnik's mini-nik returns with a triumphant beep, slotting back into his glove as the last of the map fills in. Stone and Shadow lean in to better see the completed map.

"It looks like there are two main areas," Robotnik says. "A lab and a server room, if I had to guess based on these blueprints."

Shadow crosses his arms. "We should split up." He glances at Robotnik. "I can search the lab if you two want to start looking through the server room."

Robotnik casts Shadow a scathing look. "Don't think that just because you're being all helpful right now means I'm going to forgive your betrayal," he snaps.

Shadow rolls his eyes. "I'll try to contain my sorrow. You can be pissed at me for trying to save your life later, though." He glances at the map again and turns down the left hallway. "I'll meet back up with you when I'm done digging around."

"Be careful," Stone warns. "If anything strange happens–"

"I'll come find you." Shadow calls, already out of sight.

Stone slips his flashlight into his jacket pocket, staring down the right passage. "Ready, sir?"

Robotnik sighs. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

As the two of them start heading down the hall, Stone glances at Robotnik, assessing his mood. "Don't be too mad at Shadow, sir," he says. "If he hadn't told me, we wouldn't be here right now."

"Oh goodie! When you put it like that, I don't know what I was thinking!" Robotnik's tone is mockingly cheerful. He groans. "This is the last place I want to be right now, Stone."

"Understandable, Doctor. But it's not Shadow's fault, okay? He's trying to help you."

Robotnik sighs in resignation. "Yeah, yeah. Maybe I'll forgive him, eventually. If I survive." He falls awkwardly silent for a beat. "I guess it sucks for Shadow to be here, too."

"It certainly can't be fun for him," Stone agrees solemnly.

They walk silently for a few moments, interrupted only by the occasional creak of the facility settling around them. Finally, at the end of the hall, a rusty metal door greets them, the words DATA STORAGE printed across it in faded, peeling white paint.

"That looks promising," Stone says, stepping in front of Robotnik to test the door handle. It's unlocked, either left that way when the facility was abandoned or warped with time, Stone isn't sure. Slowly, he shoulders the door open, swiftly raising an arm to shield his nose and mouth as a cloud of dust billows out from inside the room.

When the dust settles, Stone steps inside, shining his flashlight around the walls until he locates a dust-coated breaker box. Fighting a cough, Stone flips the switches, watching as the lights, servers and monitors all turn on one by one, humming with life. Aside from the coating of dust, the room looks completely untouched by time or the elements; Gerald must have reinforced the room somehow.

"Look at all this prehistoric junk," Robotnik sneers. "Ugh. Why was everything so big and bulky back then?"

Stone chuckles, trailing his pointer finger across the top of the aforementioned bulky monitors to assess the thick layer of dust. "I guess functionality was more important than aesthetics at the time," he speculates.

Robotnik clears the dust off the console, typing several commands into the main computer. "If my granddunce was as smart as he claimed, he could have focused on both," he grumbles.

"You're absolutely right, sir," Stone agrees. He's always enjoyed affirming any judgemental observations Robotnik makes at the expense of others, but he's especially on board for needlessly trashing his dead grandfather. It's healthy, he thinks. Cathartic.

A few moments pass in silence, the tapping of keys the only sound to be heard as Robotnik searches through the systems, overriding passcodes and lock outs every so often with ease.

"Simplistic, primitive," he murmurs, chuckling. "Stone, search around for something that looks like a printer. If you find it, check if it still has paper loaded."

"On it," Stone says, hoping printers haven't changed too much in the last fifty years so he knows what he's looking for. It seems they haven't, thankfully, since he's able to find it almost right away. It's tucked away in the corner behind the largest set of servers, and when he opens the tray it's loaded with an unused stack of continuous perforated paper. Stone hasn't seen this kind of paper in a couple of decades at least. He shuts the tray.

"Found it, sir. It looks functional as far as I can tell, but I can't account for the ink… Something tells me it dried up a few decades ago."

"Not a problem," Robotnik answers, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "It should be a dot matrix printer. My mini drone should be able to scan the impacts of the text on the paper, no ink required." After a few more inputs, the printer makes a buzzing sound, rattling to life. Robotnik deploys his mini-nik and it flies over to the printer, beginning to scan the pages as they roll out. Even though the pages look blank, Stone can vaguely see the physical imprints of words on the pages.

"Downloading information wasn't exactly an option back then," Robotnik muses, standing up from the chair. "From mainframe to mainframe, maybe, but even then they needed to be connected by phone lines. The most efficient way to download the data on these servers is to just print it all out and let my mini-nik upload it to my network back home."

Stone grins. "Genius as always, Doctor."

"The alternative was to sit here and comb through all the data manually. I don't relish that idea, so I'm glad my grandfart's ancient printer still works." Robotnik leans back against the mainframe, crossing his arms. "Now we wait," he says.

An unusual side-effect of waiting in the dusty silence of Gerald's lab for potentially life-saving information to reveal itself was that for the first time since Stone discovered Robotnik was dying, he realized he had a lot of things he needed to say. Now is as good a time as any, he supposes. He'd more than learned his lesson regarding leaving important things unsaid.

"Doctor," Stone begins carefully, "I owe you an apology."

Robotnik turns to him in surprise, his brow tight in confusion. "For what?"

Stone offers him an apologetic smile. "For a lot of things, honestly, but mostly how I spoke to you the other day after we, uh… Well, you know. I wasn't fair to you. I assumed I knew what was going on, but I didn't have a clue. I was so scared of things changing between us that I put all the blame on you without even thinking. I'm sorry, sir."

Robotnik regards him for a long moment before huffing an exaggerated laugh, scrubbing his face in his hands. When he lowers his hands, he looks subdued. A little sad, perhaps.

"Stone, you have nothing to apologize for," Robotnik sighs. "The fault was mine. What you said that day, well… You were right."

Another pang of disappointment shoots through Stone's already broken heart. "O-oh. So…?"

"No, no," Robotnik quickly amends, "I don't mean about everything. But you're right to be angry with me about what happened when my grandfool came along. That… Yeah. I can't defend anything I did, Stone, and I won't try. That whole thing was a big mess, and I don't come out of it looking very good."

"We haven't really talked about it," Stone gently probes. "I know the broad strokes of what happened, but I know you, Doctor. There's more to it than just a brief betrayal and a quick end."

Robotnik's eyes dart away, embarrassed. "I didn't see the need to bring up how humiliated I was to have so eagerly latched onto that old fart the moment he showed up, ignoring all the very obvious red flags that he was manipulating me for his own purposes, and slam-dunking the only meaningful, trusting relationship in my life into the garbage just to impress that ancient nutcase." He sighs shakily. "The possibility of family blinded me to everything so embarrassingly fast I still can't quite come to terms with it. So." Robotnik crosses his arms tightly over his chest. "Like I said, you have every right to be pissed."

Stone joins Robotnik by the mainframe, leaning back against it close enough that their elbows brush. He joins his hands together in his lap. "I was pissed for a while," he says softly. "I was furious and devastated for so long, the two emotions melded together to create some horrible all-consuming sensation I couldn't even put a name to. But I wasn't angry at you, sir. I was angry at myself. For letting all of it happen, for bringing the stolen badniks to your attention in the first place, for not doing enough to protect you… The list goes on."

Robotnik glances at him, eyes blown open in surprise. "Are you stupid?" he says softly. "None of that was your fault, Stone."

"If you're still standing on the bridge of the Eclipse Cannon, Doctor, then I'm still standing on Earth far below you, looking up at the sky," Stone says with a sad smile. "We've both been stuck, I think. Maybe it's time we stopped blaming ourselves so we can finally move forward."

Robotnik's tense, concerned expression softens with emotion. "Are we moving forward… together?" he asks softly, hesitantly, "Or separately?"

Before Stone realizes what he's doing, he reaches up and pulls Robotnik into a hug. Such a thing might have earned him a swift punch to the gut years ago, but now, Robotnik latches onto him with no hesitation, holding onto Stone as if Stone is the only thing keeping him upright.

"Together," Stone affirms. "For as long as you want me, I'm with you."

Robotnik buries his face in Stone's shoulder, breathing him in, his chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths. Stone just holds him, gently scratching his fingernails through the hair falling over the back of Robotnik's neck, nuzzling their heads together whenever Robotnik grips him just a little more tightly.

Stone isn't sure how much time passes, but it doesn't really matter. He didn't realize until now how frozen they'd both been in their respective guilt and pain, and for the first time in months it feels like time has resumed for them.

When they finally pull apart, it's only by a few inches, their arms still clinging to each other as if bracing for a leap. Robotnik's eyes are so impossibly soft and glossy, his expression fragile.

"I'm not certain I know what love is, Stone," he confesses. "I don't even know what it's supposed to feel like."

Stone smiles, raising a hand to caress Robotnik's cheek. "I'm not sure I know either, truthfully," Stone says, his heart exploding with warmth when Robotnik leans into his hand, closing his eyes in relief. "I think about you constantly. When you're not around, there's this constant ache inside of me - no other pain even comes close. I'd do anything to make you happy, sir. Anything at all. I'm not sure if that's love, but I'm not sure what else to call it."

Robotnik's cheeks dust rose. "I can, uh, relate to some of that," he says. "I'm just concerned it's not enough."

Stone shakes his head. "There are no prerequisites," he says firmly. "There's nothing you have to do or prove. You're all I need, Ivo - just you, exactly as you are. We can figure out the rest together, there's no rush."

The look Robotnik gives him is almost alarming. He looks relieved, emotional, and overwhelmed all at once. Stone has never seen him look so unguarded, but before he can marvel too much, Robotnik pulls him in for a kiss.

Stone melts into it without hesitation, his hands gripping the fabric of Robotnik's coat as if letting go would send them both tumbling into a terrifying abyss. The room around them fades into nothing—no machines humming, no distant beeping of monitors or the constant grinding of the printer, just the press of lips and the warmth of a moment neither of them seems willing to break.

It's so different from their kiss back in the apartment. It's soft and careful and deliberate, not just the result of months worth of repressed emotions bursting to the surface. It's such a stark contrast that it feels like the first time all over again.

When they do part, it's with a breathless sort of hesitation, their foreheads nearly touching. Robotnik's fingers linger against Stone's jaw, his expression softened with relief and emotion, and Stone's heart rends affectionately at the sight.

"A lesser man might say something like, 'I don't deserve you'," Robotnik purrs.

Stone takes Robotnik's hands in his again, holding them tightly. "There's nothing lesser about you, Ivo. You deserve the world."

Robotnik scoffs softly. "I don't want that anymore, Stone. Ruling the world is so overrated, anyway - once you've blown yourself up to save the planet, conquering it kinda loses its appeal."

Stone smiles, sighing in relief. "I'm glad to hear you say that, because as much as I'd love to see you rule the world, I don't think I can deal with any more life-threatening situations." He glances at the mainframe they're standing next to, suddenly remembering the grim reason they're here in the first place. "...Aside from this last one, anyway."

Robotnik follows his eyes. "Ah, right. I forgot for a moment that I'm actively dying."

Stone squeezes Robotnik's hands. "Not going to happen," he says firmly. "We're going to figure something out, Ivo, I promise."

"I appreciate your optimism, but–"

A sudden knocking on the server room door interrupts them, and Stone turns just in time to see the door creak open as Shadow steps through.

"I knocked this time," Shadow announces.

Stone smiles. "We appreciate it. Have you found anything?"

Shadow grunts noncommittally. "Sort of. There's something you need to see, at least."

Chapter Text

Like the rest of the facility, the laboratory is coated in a thick layer of dust and neglect. Something about the room seems especially jarring to Stone; perhaps it's the incomplete machines on the work table or the scattered tools and machine pieces that give the room a more obvious sense of abandonment. It almost seems like Gerald could be back at any moment to continue his work.

"Over here." Shadow leads them to the desk with the room's only computer. The dust on the desk has been disturbed by Shadow's snooping, and as the three of them surround the desk, Shadow grabs a box, carefully opening it.

"Please tell me you found the cure in a conveniently labeled test tube so we can get the hell out of this musty, mildewy, retro nightmare?" Robotnik begs.

Shadow snorts. "Afraid not." He fishes through the box briefly before pulling out a cassette tape and handing it to Robotnik. There's a single word written on the label in black marker: Ivo.

"You can listen to it or destroy it for all I care," Shadow says gently, "but I thought you should know about it, at least."

Robotnik stares at the tape for a long moment, his face set in a scowl. "How the hell did he…? When the hell did he…?!"

Stone gently touches his shoulder. "We can leave you alone if you want to–"

"I don't need privacy," Robotnik hisses. He grabs the tape player on the desk and pops the top open, shoving the tape inside. "Whatever that old windbag has to say to me, it's of no consequence now. You're more than welcome to listen in."

Robotnik hits the play button. The player makes a clicking sound as the reels begin rotating, white noise hissing through the speaker for a few seconds before the recording begins.

"Hello, my boy," Gerald's voice breaks through the grainy static, though he sounds so different Stone almost doesn't recognize him. He sounds like a completely different person from the man Stone met months ago, and it isn't just that he's younger. He sounds content, relaxed. Happy. "I know this is a bit unorthodox since you won't be able to understand any of this for some time, but I wanted to make sure to record something for you since I won't be able to meet you for a little while longer. You come from a line of excellence, my boy, and I have no doubts you'll do great things. I haven't even met you yet, but my son tells me you're already a Robotnik through and through - if you're anything like me, you'll be writing formulas and solving equations before you've even uttered your first words!"

Stone's eyes widen. Gerald recorded this for his infant grandson, back before the accident. Ivo must have been born shortly before Maria was killed and Gerald was jailed - he never even got the chance to mail the tape he'd recorded.

"Your cousin Maria is so excited to meet you, Ivo, and I know you'll love her. Regretfully, Maria and I live very far away and we have lots of work to do, so we can't meet you just yet. My work is very important, which I'm sure you'll understand someday… But soon, my boy - I promise!" A long sigh punctuates Gerald's words. "I hope I make you proud, Ivo, because you've already made me the proudest grandfather in the world. I can't wait to meet you."

The player clicks and the tape ends, plunging the lab into a ringing silence that's almost louder than the constant hissing static of the tape.

"Okay, so. Maybe that's not what I expected." Robotnik says hoarsely. Stone slides his hand over Robotnik's shoulder, giving him an affectionate squeeze.

Shadow stares at the desk with a wistful expression. "That's the Professor I knew," he says. "I'm not trying to defend anything he did - anything we did - but he'd been so changed by grief and his desire for revenge that by the time you met him, I don't think there was anything left of the man I knew. I didn't notice at the time because I was just as lost in my grief."

"He's still a nutcase who tried to destroy the world," Robotnik replies bitterly, though his words lack their usual sting. "He tried to kill me."

Shadow nods. "I know. But he also used to sneak us ice cream and snacks from the kitchen after it was closed if we wanted to watch movies late at night, and he read us stories before bed when Maria couldn't sleep. That's the Professor I'd prefer to remember."

"And that's the man who recorded that tape for you," Stone points out gently.

Robotnik scoffs, though Stone catches the way his throat bobs with emotion. "If this is some attempt at a heartfelt 'you've had family all along!' moment, I'm not buying it."

Stone grins. "It's more of a 'people are complicated and can be transformed by grief and trauma but we can choose how to remember them' moment, actually." He slips his hand down to interlock his fingers with Robotnik's, squeezing his hand. "You already have a family, Doctor. We're right here, and we're not going anywhere."

Robotnik's gaze glides from Stone and Shadow, assessing their matching expressions of resolve as if momentarily unsure whether or not Stone really meant what he said. Shadow huffs impatiently. "Just accept it, Doctor. You're stuck with us."

Robotnik's fingers twitch slightly in Stone's grasp, and then, almost imperceptibly, he squeezes back. "If you two are trying to get me to cry, it's not gonna happen," he growls accusingly, but his eyes are unusually shiny. He clears his throat, fixing his gaze on the nearest wall. "But… thank you."

.

.

.

It's warm. That's the first thought that floats into Stone's consciousness as he surfaces from a dreamless sleep; he's enveloped in warmth, and it's so soft and so comfortable he almost drifts off again, until he feels the unmistakable weight of a body beside him, and realizes the warmth he feels is Robotnik sleeping solidly in his arms.

The bedroom is dimly lit, only the cool blue light of the main monitor illuminating Stone's immediate surroundings. He's lying on his side with Robotnik wrapped tightly in his arms, Robotnik snugly huddled against him, his face buried in Stone's chest. Stone mentally scrambles to understand how they've ended up like this; his mind is still sluggish, and his sense of time is completely gone. He has no idea if it's noon or midnight.

For a moment, though, the reason for being here and the time of day don't matter. Stone gently pulls Robotnik even closer, nuzzling his nose against the crown of Robotnik's head and breathing him in. He's pretty sure this isn't a dream, but it certainly feels like one. Robotnik's breathing is strong and steady; he's sleeping deeply, Stone can tell, and he doesn't want to wake him. He knows better than anyone how rare it is for Robotnik to get a full night's sleep.

As Stone's consciousness begins to clear, he slowly starts to remember the events of the night - or last night? He still has no idea what time it is - and understands now why he feels so exhausted. They'd stayed at Gerald's secret lab until well into the early hours of the morning, and when they finally returned to the apartment, all three of them were too eager to get started pouring through the data Robotnik copied from the lab's servers to sleep. Two hours of reading after forgoing sleep caught up with them, however, which perhaps explains their current - and wonderful - configuration.

Stone peeks over the top of Robotnik's head to view the foot of the bed, where Shadow is similarly passed out, Robotnik's tablet still in his hand. Stone almost laughs at the sight; The Ultimate Lifeform, curled up at the foot of the bed like a housecat! Robotnik would never let him live it down.

As Stone's mind works to untangle the events of the last 24 hours, he's filled with equal parts unbridled joy and horrible urgency. They don't have much time to find a cure for Robotnik's unique form of radiation poisoning, and Stone is wholly unwilling to stop until he finds a solution. He almost thinks to put a stop to their nap and wake everyone up, insisting they continue looking, but just as he considers it Robotnik mumbles something completely incoherent into Stone's chest, breathing a deep sigh as he snuggles in closer.

Perhaps Stone could allow them all to sleep a little longer. Tackling that data will be easier if they're all well-rested, after all. Stone kisses the top of Robotnik's head, vowing then and there to never let him go ever again. He whispers words against his scalp.

"I love you, Ivo."

.

.

.

"Useless to me in life, useless to me in death," Robotnik grumbles, sipping his latte while glaring at the screen in front of him as if the words have wronged him. "Unbelievable."

Stone is pacing the room, his heart hammering in his throat. "There has to be something."

Robotnik gestures rudely at the screen. "He sure goes on and on about a hypothetical opposing energy that might nullify the effects, just like I did. But he never found anything. Or if he did, he didn't store the data in his servers."

Giving up isn't an option, Stone knows that, but it's getting difficult to be optimistic. They'd been going through the stolen data for three days now, and although Gerald mentioned Chaos energy several times and had written a fair amount on the subject, he didn't appear to know much more about it than they did. Stone had been so sure the missing piece of the puzzle would be somewhere in Gerald's lab, although he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because he'd just been desperate to cure Robotnik as quickly as possible, and he'd assumed the answer would lie with Robotnik's own kin.

"Shadow must still be at G.U.N. headquarters," Stone says. "Hopefully he didn't run into any trouble."

Robotnik huffs an unbelieving laugh. "I don't think we need to worry about Shadow. If anything, G.U.N. should be grateful their building is still standing. Assuming it is."

Stone glances at his watch, whistling. "It's later than I thought it was."

"Time flies when you're having fun," Robotnik says wryly.

Stone grins. He steps closer, leaning over to peck Robotnik's lips. "Come on. I'll make us some lunch, you must be starving."

Robotnik's cheeks dust rose. He offers Stone a smile. "I'm getting there."

Starving or not, they both need a break. They leave the room and head to the kitchen; Robotnik sits down at the table while Stone breaks out the bread, peanut butter, and jam. Time management is important right now, so quick but filling meals have been the go-to the last couple of days.

The mood is understandably bleak. Stone knows Robotnik well enough to know that he's assuming the worst and is probably only continuing the hunt to placate Stone at this point. Stone isn't certain if hanging onto hope right now is the smart thing to do or not, but he's already decided he can't live without Robotnik. They're in this together, through and through.

Stone returns to the table with a plate of a half-dozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, plopping down in the seat next to Robotnik. Robotnik eyes the stack of sandwiches, chuckling.

"How many do you think we need, Stone?"

Stone smiles and grabs half of a sandwich. "As many as you want. And some for Shadow when he returns, if he's hungry."

Robotnik follows suit, taking a bite out of the other half. "He will be. I don't think he's eaten anything since we visited the lab."

Stone doesn't realize how hungry he is until he's almost finished with his first half, his stomach already growling for another. Robotnik must feel similarly; he finishes off his half quickly, but he hesitates before grabbing for seconds. He sighs and lowers his hand, staring at the table with a faraway expression.

"You know, Stone," he starts, and the weight of his voice tells Stone everything he needs to know about what's coming next, "We might not–"

"Do you like it here in Norwich, sir?" Stone's words slice through whatever Robotnik was planning on saying, rendering him momentarily silent.

Robotnik blinks at him, obviously not accustomed to being interrupted by anyone, let alone his former assistant. "It's as good as anywhere, I suppose. Why…?"

"Because I've been thinking about buying a house," Stone continues, watching as Robotnik's expression warps in surprise. "Or building one somewhere, maybe. A small apartment like this isn't cutting it anymore; I know you'd like a bigger lab, and Shadow might like having his own room. What do you think?"

Robotnik's pale skin flushes pink and his eyes soften. A melancholy smile shapes his lips.

"I think," he says slowly, his voice rougher than usual, "I definitely need a bigger lab."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I wasn't going to say anything, but that room is suffocating. How can I possibly be expected to get work done in a room that insultingly small?"

Stone grabs Robotnik's hand, his thumb rubbing circles over the smooth titanium. He knows Robotnik can't feel it, but the sentiment is enough. "Not much room in the city, so maybe the countryside would be more suitable. I'm thinking, a small cottage with a big underground lab, out in the middle of nowhere."

Robotnik chuckles. He flips his hand over to interlace their fingers, giving Stone's hand an encouraging squeeze. "'Agent Stone finally domesticates Ivo Robotnik'. Walters is probably rolling in his grave."

Stone leans his chin in his free hand, grinning. God, he wants to kiss him. "Is that what I've done? Domesticated you?"

"We're discussing living in a cottage in the English countryside, Stone. If it were any more domestic, this would be the epilogue of a Jane Austen novel."

"That wouldn't be so bad," Stone muses, "She's known for her happy endings, after all."

Robotnik hums. "A happy ending, huh? I guess I never expected I'd get one of those."

Stone isn't sure what to say. Truthfully, he never expected he'd have one, either - until he'd met Robotnik, he'd had a rather bleak outlook on life. As much as he wants to, he isn't sure he can assure Robotnik that everything will be okay. The clock is ticking, and they're no closer to a solution. Still, how can he possibly relinquish this bliss for anything?

A quick knock on the front door marks Shadow's return - he's been very good about knocking lately, but Stone suspects it's primarily so Shadow can avoid teleporting into anything awkward - and the door swings open, Shadow stepping inside.

"Welcome back," Stone greets him, and Shadow grunts in return, heading over to the table and tossing a USB stick next to the plate of sandwiches. As Stone predicted, Shadow grabs a sandwich and joins them at the table. "Did you have any trouble?"

Shadow shakes his head, gulping the sandwich down so fast Stone wonders if he even chewed. "They didn't even know I was there. I had plenty of time, so I fished through their servers while waiting for everything to download. From what I could see, I don't think there's going to be anything helpful on that," he says, gesturing at the USB.

Robotnik rolls his eyes. "G.U.N.'s research division is lacking actual research? Say it isn't so!"

"It was worth a shot," Stone says. "Thank you, Shadow."

"It wasn't all me," Shadow admits. He plucks a previously unnoticed device out of his chest fur, placing it on the table. It has a familiar orange, fox-earred design. "I had a little help."

"Aa-HA!" Robotnik nearly shouts, pointing accusingly at Shadow. "So you are hanging out with those insufferable multicolored morons!"

Shadow shoots a glare at Robotnik. "Don't 'ah-ha' like you just figured something out. I literally volunteered the information."

"It's okay to have friends, Shadow," Stone says with a smile. "Even if they're technically our arch-enemies, I guess. We're happy for you!" Beside him, Robotnik grunts noncommittally. "Well, I am, at least."

"I never said they were my friends," Shadow retorts in a way that very much sounds like they are, "Especially Sonic. He and I are opposites in pretty much every conceivable way."

There's a beat of silence where Stone contemplates how to answer - he wants to encourage Shadow's relationships, of course, while diffusing Robotnik's possible attempts to discourage them at the same time - but he's distracted by the expression on Robotnik's face. His eyes have gone wide, his face draining of color, and a moment later, he's burying his face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Stone asks in alarm.

Robotnik groans, his voice muffled in his palms. "I may regret this," he says heavily, "but I think I just invented a cure."

Chapter Text

A red and white sneaker taps the ground impatiently, emerald eyes locked on the large, wheel-shaped machine with a skeptical glare. The juxtaposition of such an imposing machine surrounded by the vines, potted plants, and wild greenery of the abandoned greenhouse they'd hijacked for this experiment was almost humorous, though the blue hedgehog did not seem particularly amused.

"Let me see if I have this right," Sonic says, holding his hands up to request clarification. "You survived an insane situation for an unprecedented third time, but now you're dying of radiation poisoning, and the only chance at a cure is using my power?"

Robotnik is looking appropriately annoyed, his arms crossed grumpily over his chest. "Believe me when I say I very seriously considered just dying instead," he growls. Beside him, Stone elbows him gently in the ribs.

Sonic glances at the machine again, grimacing. "Great. Now, can someone explain to me why I need to get into this extremely evil-looking hamster wheel? How do I know this thing isn't going to extract my power or try to kill me or something?"

Tails has been inspecting the machine for several minutes with one of his own devices, making 'ooh's and 'aah's now and again. "It's not an extractor, Sonic, it's an amplifier!" he chimes in. He glances at Robotnik, an impressed smile lighting up his face. "I can't believe you built this in less than a week! It's incredible!"

Some of Robotnik's annoyed demeanor melts away. He tosses a scathing look at Sonic. "At least someone here appreciates my genius!" He leans in closer to Stone to speak covertly. "Okay, I kinda get what you're saying now."

"He's adorable, right?" Stone whispers.

Robotnik clears his throat. "This evil-looking hamster wheel is an Energy Refiner. I'm sure Shadow already filled you in, but your energy can likely counteract the effects of Chaos energy."

Sonic crosses his arms. "Yeah, he mentioned that. He said you did tests on my quill a while ago, though, so forgive me for being a little confused as to why you're coming to me about this now."

"Those tests were inconclusive, and now I know why," Robotnik continues. "It was useless to test a single quill against the effects of Chaos energy. Your quills only hold a very small fraction of your power - I need the real deal, the full, unfiltered extent of your energy."

Tails joins Sonic and Knuckles, showing them the data on his device. "Basically, this machine can withstand the full force of one of your energy blasts and can harness it, refine it, and then it can be used to start reversing the effects of the Chaos energy in his body!"

Sonic frowns. "Wait a second, does this mean you could have made this machine at any time to harness my power, but you preferred to try and just kill me instead?!"

"Oh please," Robotnik counters. "In my defense, I usually only tried to kill you when you were being a nuisance."

"That is sooo not true!" Sonic retorts hotly.

"Okay fine, so maybe I hunted you down with the expressed purpose of trying to murder you, like, once. Get over it already!"

"Cut it out, both of you," Shadow interjects. He's standing by the wall, leaning against it with his arms crossed. Stone can't help but wonder if he's trying to appear even more mysterious and aloof than usual for some reason. "The Doctor's on borrowed time. He has no reason to trick you right now, and I wouldn't let him, either."

Knuckles points at Shadow - as well as he can, anyway, without proper fingers - and levels him a suspicious glare. "Betrayer! You've known The Eggman and his Goat Milker were alive and conspiring this entire time, and you did not tell us!"

Sonic touches Knuckles' shoulder. "I don't think Shadow was trying to deceive us, big guy." He glances at Robotnik and Stone. "And I don't think they're 'conspiring' right now, either. They seem… Uh, chill? Maybe?"

Robotnik sighs. "Not conspiring, no. I'd love to 'chill', actually, but there's this whole pesky complete cellular degradation thing to worry about."

"All we want is to cure the Doctor," Stone says gently. "You'll never hear from us again if you can just help us save his life."

Sonic quirks a brow, unconvinced. "So, no big 'take over the world' plan after this? You're gonna, what? Retire for good? Live out the rest of your days in a quaint little beach house next to the ocean, drinking mojitos on the porch and learning how to knit?"

Honestly, he kind of nailed it. Stone and Robotnik trade a look, nodding in unison, impressed.

"I probably won't learn how to knit, but..." Robotnik shrugs. "Who knows, maybe I'll get the itch."

"And we're leaning towards the countryside, actually," Stone adds thoughtfully. "We haven't decided yet, though."

Sonic's gaze moves between Robotnik and Stone rapidly, his expression growing increasingly baffled. "Wait… Do you mean…?"

Tails claps his hands together, beaming with excitement. "Wow, congrats you two!"

"Are you being serious…?" Sonic looks shell-shocked. "Wait, wait, hold on–"

Knuckles grunts, nodding in approval. "We may have had our differences, but it is an appropriate match. You two are good for each other. Or… bad for each other, maybe, but in a good way."

"Wait wait wait wait WAIT–"

"For the record," Robotnik begins, his face very red, "no one asked for your opinions on the matter!"

Stone grins. "But they're appreciated, nonetheless."

Sonic's mouth is hanging open. "I'm sorry, did everyone know these two had something going on except for me? And how are we just cool with these guys skipping off into the sunset after all the stuff they did?!"

Shadow takes his weight off of the wall, leveling Sonic a serious look. "You all befriended me after everything I did."

Sonic's expression softens. "Come on, Shadow, you know that's different." He gestures at Robotnik. "He's tried to kill me three times - not once, not twice, thrice - and he's tried to take over the world twice now!"

"I tried to kill you a few times, I almost killed your dad, and I tried to blow up the planet." Shadow points out flippantly.

Sonic's eyes go wide, and he visibly deflates. "That's– Yeah, okay, I'm seeing the contradictions now."

Tails nudges Sonic's arm. "Robotnik helped us save the world," he says gently. "I'd say we're even at this point, right?"

"His actions on the Eclipse Cannon were honorable," Knuckles tacks on.

Sonic groans theatrically, pinching his brow between his fingers. "This has been a weird day."

"So you'll help us?" Stone asks.

Sonic sighs hugely, glancing at Robotnik and Stone and then back at the machine. "Okay, fine." He steps forward, holding out his hand for Robotnik to take. "But you need to promise me that you're really, truly done with the whole super-villain-taking-over-the-world thing. If you can do that, I'll help you however I can. Deal?"

Robotnik rolls his eyes. "I've no interest in taking over the world anymore, porcupine, but sure, let's shake on it." He extends his hand, and Stone thinks he sees a flash of surprise and sympathy color Sonic's expression when he sees the white shell of Robotnik's prosthetic hand. It only lasts for a moment before he takes that hand and gives it a firm shake.

"It's a deal, then," Sonic says. "And, uh… Thanks. For doing what you did."

"Don't expect me to do it again anytime soon," Robotnik grumbles. "Now get in the damn wheel."

.

.

.

The operation went off without a hitch. Sonic achieved an energy blast in no time at all - one far more powerful than the blast that initially tipped off the government to Sonic's existence years ago - and as far as they can tell, the machine worked exactly as designed. Shadow took Team Sonic back to their home in Green Hills shortly after, eager to give Robotnik some peace and quiet. He'd clocked on almost as fast as Stone did that Robotnik was rapidly tiring of all the excitable chatter and socialization. For that matter, so was Stone. The stress over what they were about to attempt is starting to get to him, making his heart race and his skin crawl.

Refining the energy takes just under an hour. Finally, Robotnik pulls a glowing cylinder out of the machine's bottom compartment. Stone stares at it, a bit slack-jawed.

"Is that it?" he asks. "Sonic's power?"

"Refined and diluted for the human body. Well, hopefully. We'll see." Robotnik coughs lightly into his hand, something he's been doing with worrying frequency these last few days. He insists it's nothing, but Stone can see the subtle signs that Robotnik's health has suddenly declined. He's moving a little slower, and his energy is waning. Robotnik is always loud and energetic and passionate; seeing the life bleed out of him, no matter how slight it might be, is gut-wrenching.

Stone takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Are you ready, Ivo?"

Robotnik shrugs. "As ready as I'll ever be." He hands the cylinder to Stone. "Let's get started."

Stone's heart is in his throat as he heads to the back of the room with Robotnik, where a makeshift medical bed is set up alongside several monitors and equipment they may need. Stone sets the cylinder on the table with the equipment so he can help Robotnik onto the bed.

"Of all the things I wanted to use that blue rodent's power for," Robotnik grumbles, "this was not one of them."

Stone snickers, heading to the monitor beside the bed to retrieve the wired electrodes connected to it. "What, you never expected you'd be injecting Sonic's power directly into your body? I thought geniuses prepare for every eventuality."

Robotnik scoffs, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, discarding it. He presses a nearly invisible panel on the top of his prosthetic hand. A small port pops up with a click. "I'm a genius, Stone, not a prophet."

Stone sticks the electrodes to Robotnik's chest, arms, and abdomen. "I don't think anyone could have predicted how the last few years would go, prophet or not."

"True."

Stone double-checks the monitor to confirm that it's accurately reading Robotnik's vital signs. Fear lances through him. Seeing Robotnik's vitals displayed on a screen like this, knowing that they're about to attempt something highly experimental at best and utterly insane and dangerous at worst gives him pause. They don't have a choice, he knows that. There are no other options. But if something happens to Ivo Robotnik here and now, if something happens to him–

Warm fingers grasp for Stone's, wrapping around Stone's hand in a firm hold. It snaps Stone out of his terrified nosedive immediately. He turns to regard Robotnik, his throat tight when he sees the soft, encouraging look he's wearing.

"Do you trust me, Stone?" Robotnik asks gently.

"Of course I do," Stone rasps promptly. "More than anything!" He wishes he sounded more convincing, but his pause garners Robotnik's attention.

Robotnik gives Stone's hand a little squeeze. "But?"

"This is essentially space magic we're dealing with. There are so many unknowns, too many unknowns, and I… I just wish this was a problem I could handle in a way that makes sense."

Robotnik smiles sadly. "This isn't Azerbaijanistan, Stone. You can't just make me a tourniquet and wrap up my wound or shoot someone to stop the attack. It's not 'space magic', either. Those hedgehogs are flesh and bone. The energy they generate is fundamentally no different than the energy found on our planet. Energy is a capacity. A trait of matter. And we're using that energy and its properties for a medical purpose."

Stone snorts. "When you word it that way, you can make anything sound normal."

"It is normal," Robotnik says. "If it exists, it's normal. Science is the pursuit of discovering the Unknown and turning it into a Known, that's all."

Stone sighs again. He shuts his eyes. "If anything happens to you–"

"Something will happen to me, Stone, if we do nothing," Robotnik points out. "This is our best shot, and if you trust me, I think it will work."

Stone swallows hard, his grip tightening on Robotnik's hand as if sheer force of will could keep him here, whole and unharmed. The conviction in Robotnik's voice should be reassuring, but it only makes Stone's heart ache more.

He can't lose him. The thought alone is unbearable.

Before he can think better of it - before the immediacy of their situation can pull him back - Stone moves. His free hand cups the side of Robotnik's face, his fingertips brushing against his mustache as he tilts his head down and presses their lips together.

The action is almost completely involuntary, but it's born out of sheer desperation.

Robotnik freezes for the briefest of moments before exhaling against Stone's lips, his hand rising to clutch at the front of Stone's shirt as if grounding himself in the sensation. Then, just as fiercely, he kisses back. His other hand slips behind Stone's neck, pulling him in, deepening the kiss with an intensity that feels like Stone might have been the cure he needed all along. The world outside the building, the monitor quietly beeping to indicate Robotnik's heart rate has spiked, the uncertainty of the next few hours - all of it falls away. There is only heat, pressure, and the silent understanding between them.

When they finally part, breathless, Robotnik's smirk is softer than usual, tinged with something close to wonder. "Of all the unbelievable things that have happened these last few years, I think this is the one that surprises me the most."

"Which is insane, actually, because I've been pretty clearly head-over-heels in love with you for almost a decade," Stone chides.

Robotnik shrugs with a melancholy smile. "I suppose I just always believed that aliens and magical emeralds were more plausible than anyone ever truly loving me." He clicks his tongue. "Wow. That was a little more self-deprecating than I intended."

Stone cups Robotnik's face in both hands. "Do you know how much I adore you?" he asks gently. Robotnik locks eyes with his, nodding slowly. Stone shakes his head in reply. "No, you don't. And that's why you have to survive this, you hear me? It'll take me years to properly show you how much I love you. Decades, maybe. So you're going to be okay, and this is going to work." He breathes the last string of words like a spell, pouring every last bit of his hopeful intent into it.

Robotnik grins. "Of course it's going to work; my genius is unparalleled. Plus, we have shit to do. We have a house in the countryside to build, after all."

Stone's heart leaps in his chest. "You've decided, then?"

"Yeah. I've decided I want to be as far away from the general populace as possible. The countryside is quiet, it's inconspicuous, and we'll be left alone."

Stone rakes his fingers absently through Robotnik's hair. "And you're sure you'll be happy there?" he asks. "You're really sure?"

Robotnik grips the front of Stone's shirt again, pulling him close. "You're all I need, Stone."

They come together again - and again. Stone isn't certain how long it is before they finally separate, but when they do, Stone pulls himself together, grabs the cylinder, and connects an IV line to its port. He assists as Robotnik plugs the IV line into the port on his hand, and once everything is properly connected, Robotnik lays back, issuing a long sigh. He holds out his hand. Stone slips his hand in Robotnik's, where it belongs.

"Ready?" Stone asks.

Robotnik nods. "Let's do this."

His chest thrumming with anxiety, Stone flips the release valve, watching as the luminescent blue substance moves through the line and into Robotnik's prosthetic hand port.

Chapter Text

Warm, early-morning light presses on Stone's closed eyelids, pulling him slowly from sleep. He squeezes his eyes shut more tightly to block out the light and presses his face against the closest thing - which, in this case, is Robotnik's shoulder. The feeling of Robotnik's sleep-warmed skin against his has the opposite intended effect, however; Stone slowly opens his eyes, a thrill of happiness shooting through him when he realizes he's firmly latched onto Robotnik, his chest and stomach snug against Robotnik's bare back. Robotnik is sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, and as is typical when Stone wakes up beside Robotnik, he's overcome with passionate fervor.

Stone presses a kiss against Robotnik's shoulder, then two, then three, and as usual, it's pretty hard to stop once he gets going. He kisses a trail across Robotnik's shoulder and to the base of his neck, not stopping until he feels Robotnik shift in his arms.

Robotnik issues a soft groan. "What are you doing so early in the morning?" he mutters, voice rough from sleep.

Stone smiles against his skin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Did too," Robotnik grumbles. He moves, turning to lie on his back. Wasting no time, Stone leans down to guide him into a kiss. Robotnik's lips are always so soft and warm and pliant just after he wakes up, Stone truly can't help himself. They break apart briefly, Robotnik placing his hands on Stone's naked chest. His expression is adorably sheepish, and he's avoiding Stone's eyes.

"My breath probably stinks–"

"Don't care," Stone murmurs, angling his head to pepper kisses over Robotnik's chest. "You're always perfect, Ivo."

Robotnik's fingers glide through Stone's hair, his breath hitching under Stone's ministrations. "Tell me," he breathes, "is every morning going to be like this?"

Stone lifts his head to offer Robotnik a warm smile. "Yup." He traces his knuckles feather-light over Robotnik's cheekbone. "Good morning, Ivo."

"Good morning, Mahir."

A delighted thrill shoots through Stone when he hears his given name in Robotnik's voice; he would have been perfectly content going by Stone forever - in his previous line of work, surnames practically become the only name an Agent needs or responds to - but there's something so electric and tender about hearing that name on Robotnik's lips, it twists his stomach into wonderful knots.

Stone pulls him in for another kiss, and this time Robotnik melts into it, his earlier hesitancy gone. He slides his arms around Stone's neck and draws him in closer, until there's no space left between them. The kiss deepens naturally, unhurried but intense, like the two of them are rediscovering each other breath by breath. Stone tilts his head to better fit against Robotnik's mouth, his hand cupping the back of Robotnik's neck as if anchoring him right here, in this quiet, perfect moment. Robotnik sighs into the kiss, fingers tightening in Stone's hair, his body arching slightly under the sheets.

The warmth of him, the way he responds so openly now, sends a thrill down Stone's spine. It's like the rest of the world doesn't exist anymore - just this bed, this sun-drenched morning, and them. It's an inescapable fact that Robotnik is still unfamiliar with affection in all its forms, but he's slowly growing accustomed to it through pure exposure. Overexposure, maybe. Stone is making good on his promise of showing Robotnik exactly how much he loves him - often, at every possible opportunity - and although sometimes Robotnik still seems flustered and embarrassed when Stone initiates, he's getting more and more comfortable with indulging. With letting himself be loved.

When they finally part, it's only by a hair's breadth. Stone's gaze traces over the lines and soft features of Robotnik's face; he can never look at him enough, can never kiss him and touch him enough.

"How are you feeling?" Stone asks gently.

Robotnik laughs through his nose. "When are you going to stop asking me that?"

"Probably never," Stone admits.

Robotnik wraps his arms around Stone's waist, pulling him in closer, sleepily burying his face in the bend of Stone's shoulder. "I feel great," he murmurs into Stone's skin. "Feel free to run some tests on me later, though, since I know you're dying to."

Stone grins and closes his arms around Robotnik in a tight hug. "It's only been a month since we started treating you with Sonic's energy. I think it's perfectly reasonable to stay on top of it, don't you?"

Robotnik grumbles something incoherent into Stone's shoulder. He yawns. "I think the tests thus far have been pretty clear; my damaged cells have been repaired, and my cellular structure is stable. Mission success, Agent. Stop worrying so much."

"Worrying is my job," Stone reminds him gently.

"You're unemployed," Robotnik shoots back, yawning again.

"Worrying is a partner's job," Stone corrects. "And to be fair, Ivo, you've given me plenty of reasons to worry about you these last few years."

Robotnik hums. "That's fair." He snuggles in closer.

Stone kisses the top of Robotnik's head. "Do you want to sleep a little longer?" Robotnik grunts in reply. "Okay. Go back to sleep, I'll get breakfast started." Instead of releasing him, Robotnik's hold around him tightens. Stone chuckles into Robotnik's hair. "...Ten more minutes, then."

.

.

.

Ten more minutes became twenty. Untangling himself from Robotnik so that he can get breakfast started each morning is easily the worst part of Stone's day. He could lie in bed with Robotnik all day if time permitted; however, they still have things to pack, a house to build, and breakfast doesn't make itself. Despite all that, he loves letting Robotnik sleep in.

When he'd first met Robotnik, he briefly wondered if his new boss slept at all. Back in those days, it seemed like Robotnik ran on caffeine and pure spite. He barely slept, and when he did sleep, he didn't sleep long or well. It wasn't until their time in the Crab that Robotnik finally allowed himself to sleep, eat, and relax, and even though it was borne out of depression and defeat, Stone tried to nurture it. All he'd ever wanted was for Robotnik to take it easy and treat himself better, and now Stone got to see that every day. To say he was happy was an understatement.

Thinking about it too much makes him want to run back to the bedroom and slip back into bed, actually, so Stone switches gears and focuses solely on getting breakfast started.

Blueberry muffins are ridiculously easy to make, so oftentimes Stone has a batch baking while he's making breakfast - they're a hit with both Robotnik and Shadow every time, and it's always a challenge making something that both of them enjoy. Stone pops the muffins in the oven and gathers the ingredients he'll need for a vegetable frittata. Another easy go-to, frittata is an easy dish to make, and it's a great way to get rid of any leftover vegetables in the fridge.

Stone cracks several eggs in a bowl and starts cutting up some vegetables. He's halfway through caramelizing the onions when he hears someone shuffling out of the bedroom. Stone glances back to witness a half-asleep genius padding into the kitchen with a thick blanket wrapped around himself like a cloak, hair sticking up in all directions, fuzzy slippers on his feet. He makes a slow but steady beeline for Stone, leaning on him from behind, resting his chin on Stone's shoulder. Stone grins.

"Couldn't get back to sleep?" Stone asks.

Robotnik groans sleepily but otherwise doesn't reply. His hands slide under Stone's arms and wrap around his waist, interlacing his fingers to lock himself into place. Content to let Robotnik do whatever he pleases, Stone continues cooking, glad that everything he needs is within reach so that he doesn't have to move Robotnik for the time being.

A few minutes pass with only the sound of vegetables gently sizzling in oil and the incredible aroma of blueberry muffins baking to accompany them. Robotnik finally appears to wake up, leaving soft kisses on Stone's neck. "I didn't wake you, did I?" Stone asks, and Robotnik shakes his head, his mustache brushing playfully against Stone's neck.

"Just missed you," he grumbles. Every fiber of Stone's being vibrates with joy at those simple words, which is a surprisingly common sensation nowadays. Robotnik inhales deeply, humming in satisfaction. "Blueberry muffins?"

"Mmhmm. They should be about done, actually."

Robotnik peels himself off Stone just long enough for Stone to rescue the muffins from the oven, place them on the cooling rack, and slide the sizzling pan of frittata in their place. As soon as the oven door closes, Stone turns and pulls Robotnik into a hug. Robotnik eagerly latches on, wrapping the blanket around them both.

"Come back to bed," Robotnik murmurs in such a deep, husky voice that Stone almost grabs him and sprints to the bedroom without another thought. Alas, the warmth of the oven beside them reminds him that perhaps that's not the best idea.

"The frittata only takes ten minutes in the oven," Stone says with a chuckle. "I know we're not going to be living here much longer, but I'd prefer not to set the place ablaze right before we leave."

Robotnik groans and rests his forehead on Stone's shoulder. That's how they remain for several moments, wrapped up in the fluffy blanket and each other's arms. Finally, Robotnik speaks, though his voice is muffled and hard to make out.

"Maybe… we should get married."

Stone's breath stills in his throat and a shock flies through him so violently he very nearly loses all motor function in his legs. He freezes, wondering if perhaps he's misheard or possibly hallucinated the whole thing, but after several moments pass in stunned silence, Robotnik shifts, pulling away from Stone just enough to look at him with a rare note of concern in his eyes.

"...That was too much, perhaps," he says, even more quietly. The worry on his face grows with every passing second. "It was just a thought. I know, uh, realistically – well, considering I'm legally dead and you're in hiding, we can't exactly – and I'm not into big, grandiose ceremonies, so that's not really…." Robotnik sighs, eyes darting away. "You can forget I said anything, if you'd rather."

Stone doesn't move at first. His brain is still catching up, still trying to process the fact that yes, that just happened, and no, he didn't imagine it. The most brilliant, magnificent, incredible man he's ever known just suggested marriage like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like breathing.

"I don't want to forget," Stone says, his voice hoarse, "I want to remember every word of what you just said for the rest of my life."

Robotnik's eyes snap back to Stone's, his concern softening and melting away into pure relief and surprise. "Perhaps I should have been a little more eloquent, then," he says in a regretful tone which barely befits him.

Stone smiles. He feels like he could smile forever. "No need. I've been yours for years, Ivo. I'm not going to be deterred by a less-than-romantic proposal."

A faint blush tinges Robotnik's pale cheeks. "I could have at least gotten down on one knee, I suppose," he says.

"You could have gotten down on one knee with roses, an eight-carat ring, and a parade marching behind us in my honor, and it wouldn't change a thing," Stone says seriously. One of his hands slips down to grasp Robotnik's tightly. "I do. Of course I do."

"You…?" Robotnik's eyes are wide and searching, as if waiting for the 'but' or any indication that he'd misheard what Stone just said. "You do," he says - not a question, not really a statement, either. More like he's clarifying.

Stone couldn't stop smiling if he wanted to. "Yep."

"Despite how impossible it probably is?" Robotnik continues, in that same questing tone of voice. "The logistics alone seem like a nightmare–"

"I don't care if it's not legal, I don't care about a ceremony or any of that. Let's get married however we can. I'm fine with a simple exchange of rings and a long, amazing honeymoon."

The surprise and underpinning of disbelief etched in Robotnik's expression slowly fades, his features growing soft and heartrendingly sincere. His mustache twitches in a warm smile. "I've put you through so much these last few years," he says gently. He raises a hand to brush his knuckles tenderly over Stone's cheek, like he's something precious and adored. "If a pair of rings and a romantic getaway is all it takes to make you happy, then I'm happy."

"Getting to call you my husband would make me happy," Stone says, slipping his arms around Robotnik's neck. "I guess I'm easy to please."

Robotnik kisses him.

It's soft and a little clumsy - mostly because they're both smiling halfway through it - but it's steady. Real. The kind of kiss that feels like a vow, quiet and absolute.

The oven timer goes off. For at least a couple more minutes, it goes ignored.

.

.

.

"Is the blindfold really necessary?" Robotnik grumbles as Stone finishes tying the necktie around Robotnik's head, making sure it's tight enough but not too uncomfortable for him. "Why blindfold me anyway? I could just close my eyes, no ridiculous ceremony required."

"You'd just cheat," Stone points out confidently. Robotnik snorts.

"Of course I would, because I hate surprises!"

"I know," Stone chuckles, "but you might like this one."

"It's only for a minute, anyway," Shadow points out. "Teleportation is instant. That's kinda the point."

"Fine," Robotnik groans, "Then teleport me already so I can take this stupid thing off!"

Stone and Shadow exchange an amused look before grabbing each of Robotnik's arms. It's alarming how comfortable Stone has become with teleportation over the last few months; it was a very disarming feeling in the beginning, like going around a loop-de-loop on a rollercoaster. Now it feels more like a very quick elevator ride.

Robotnik sways on his feet upon arrival; both Stone and Shadow help steady him as he finds his footing.

"Are you alright?" Stone asks worriedly.

Robotnik grunts in irritation. "That is a deeply unpleasant experience blind," he says. "Leaves all the interspacial displacement sensation to the gut and the inner ear. Interesting, but I hated it."

Stone steps behind him to untie his makeshift blindfold. "I promise it's worth it."

Robotnik squints against the sudden light as the blindfold falls away. His eyes seem to adjust quickly, ever the scientist, and immediately narrow in confusion. They're standing on a lush cliffside overlooking the ocean. The sun is hanging low in the sky, painting the sky in hues of gold, rose, and violet. A warm breeze stirs the grass at their feet.

"Why in the world have you–" Robotnik's voice dies in his throat when he spots it, the white and black form gently bobbing in the ocean waves, looking notably less derelict than the last time he'd seen it. Stone watches his expression morph into one of wide-eyed disbelief. "Is that…?"

Stone grins, pulling the Crab's remote from his pocket and hitting the remote unlock button. The Crab rises, water cascading off its repaired hull and claws. Robotnik's head whips in Stone's direction. "You repaired the Crab? When?"

"Shadow and I were kind of tag-teaming whenever we had time," Stone says. "It's not fully repaired, though. We've fixed the main systems and repaired most of the structural damage, but there's still a lot to do before she's at 100%."

Shadow crosses his arms, staring at the metal crustation. "Now that you've recovered from your injuries and aren't dying anymore, Stone and I figured we could all finish the repairs together."

Robotnik is silent for a moment, turning his head to glance between them. He looks back out at the ocean, his throat wobbling. "How ridiculously corny," he rasps.

"Maybe," Stone concedes, carefully slipping on a control glove, "but this is only part of your surprise." He taps a sequence into the glove, and a whirring sound from behind them grabs Robotnik's attention. He spins around to watch a small fleet of his badniks float over the hill - six in total - flying in a tight formation and coming to a stop a few feet away from their creator. The change in Robotnik is immediate and profound; his face lights up beautifully and he rushes over to them, grabbing the nearest badnik and inspecting it with all the gentleness of a parent.

"My babies!" Robotnik coos lovingly, stroking the side of the badnik's chassis like it's a prized antique. "Your propulsion systems are like new… and your stabilizers!" He pops open a side panel and gasps in delight. "You even reinforced the power cores. This is immaculate work - who calibrated the gyroscopes?"

"I did," Stone says, feigning a casual shrug, but there's a hint of pride in his voice. "With some help from Shadow. He's surprisingly good at micro-soldering when he's not brooding."

"I do not brood," Shadow mutters, looking away, clearly brooding.

Robotnik shakes his head, continuing to look his badniks over. "I mean… How?" he asks incredulously. "Seriously, how did you even…?"

Stone smiles apologetically. "There were some we just couldn't salvage, but these six were still somewhat operational when we found them. I'm sure you could have repaired them much more quickly than Shadow and I managed, but then that would have spoiled the surprise."

Robotnik, still running his hands over his beloved machines, chuckles. "You two… really did all this?"

"Don't get used to it," Shadow says, though he glances sideways at Robotnik, watching the older man with a small smile. "From here on out, you can repair your own machines."

Stone steps up beside Robotnik, his voice quieter now. "We thought, maybe, you needed a reminder. Of what's still here, of what you built. And what's still yours."

Robotnik's fingers halt on the metal. His throat bobs again, this time from something deeper. He clears it gruffly, trying and failing to hide the shimmer in his eyes. "I told you already, Mahir. You're all I need." He turns to look at Stone, his smile so disarmingly soft and sincere, silhouetted by the warm golds and reds on the horizon. "But it's appreciated, nonetheless."

Every time Stone thinks he can't fall more in love with this man, he's proven wrong. Again and again.

Robotnik straightens, smooths his coat, and looks at them both. "Alright. We'll finish the repairs on the Crab, but it's getting a few upgrades. And the badniks," he casts a scrutinizing look at them, placing his hands on his hips, "They need some recalibrations on target acquisition. That flying V formation? Sloppy."

Stone exchanges a grin with Shadow. "There he is."

.

.

.

Since the weather was agreeable and the view was incredible, the trio decided to spend their evening relaxing on the cliffside. Stone figured it was a possibility when he and Shadow planned this, so he'd packed a picnic for them in case they decided to stick around.

At some point - possibly because Stone and Robotnik were done snacking and had started to get a little cozier - Shadow decided to explore along the coast and took off, a black and red blur racing down the cliffside and out of sight. As the sun makes its steady journey toward the sea, starting to dip behind the line of the horizon, Stone stretches out, laying his head in Robotnik's lap. Moments pass in silence, Robotnik's hand absently playing in Stone's hair.

"I've never done this," Robotnik says, pulling Stone out of his half-asleep haze. Stone blinks up at him.

"Done what?"

Robotnik grins a bit forlornly. "Watched the sun set," he answers simply.

"Never?"

"Never." Robotnik takes a deep, swelling breath of ocean air, letting it out slowly. "Not by the ocean or otherwise. Always thought it was a bit overrated. Sentimental drivel."

Stone snatches Robotnik's unoccupied hand and presses a kiss against his palm. "What do you think of it now, then?"

Robotnik snorts a laugh. "Oh, it's sentimental drivel, certainly. Leave it to humans to find the daily natural rotation of the planet to be some idyllic, romantic experience." Stone catches the way Robotnik's eyes soften. "S'pretty, though. For a boring, everyday occurrence."

Robotnik's fingers curl into his palm, and Stone grins, kissing each of his knuckles. "You wanted retirement, Ivo, this is it," he points out humorously. "Enjoying a sunset, visiting beautiful locations, having picnics–"

"Operating weaponized drones and traveling the world in a giant mechanized crab," Robotnik adds wryly.

"And hanging out with a radioactive alien hedgehog, yeah," Stone chuckles. "I never said it was normal retirement."

"We've never been normal," Robotnik concedes, running his fingers affectionately through Stone's hair. "It doesn't suit us."

A few moments pass between them in comfortable silence. The sun is nothing but a red sliver slipping behind the ocean's edge, the sky's gold and orange hues fading into deep, fathomless blue. The fragmented moon hangs high in the sky like a ghost - Robotnik has mentioned trying to fix that, once or twice - and a cool, salty breeze blows over them, reminding Stone of a time when sitting by cliffs like these meant something very different for him. The gentle sounds of the ocean waves encourage Stone to let his eyes fall closed as Robotnik's hand continues to pull through his hair.

Stone very nearly dozes off when suddenly, Robotnik's voice pulls him back again.

"Quiet," he mumbles, so softly Stone almost doesn't catch it. Stone's eyes slowly open, and he glances up at Robotnik curiously.

"What was that?"

"Retirement. It's quietude, more than anything else. A reprieve from the chaos of everyday life, or at least an attempt to escape from it." Robotnik's eyes are fixed on the horizon, the last light of day reflected in them. "I've avoided silence my entire life. Silence always meant no work was being done, nothing was being built or discovered. It meant the noise in my head got even louder and harder to ignore."

Stone squeezes Robotnik's hand - he's still holding it, even now - and sits up, his legs dangling over the cliff's edge. "I know," he answers gently. "If you hate this, we can–"

"No," Robotnik interrupts him, glancing at Stone with a fond smile that makes Stone's heart flutter with wild, unbridled devotion. "I don't hate it. I just… don't entirely know what to do with it."

Stone offers him a careful smile. "You don't have to do anything, Ivo," he says. "That's the point. If you want to relax and enjoy the scenery, binge a show, take a trip, or just stay in bed all day, you can. Alternatively, if you want to build, invent, or bury yourself in work, you can do that too. No matter what you choose to do, I'll be there to support you. I promise I'll always give you as much silence or noise as you need."

Robotnik hums, pulling Stone's hand into his lap and closing his other over their joined hands. "I never told you this, but you're the only one who's ever made the silence feel bearable," he says. "This doesn't feel like retirement to me. If anything, it feels like a beginning. I want to build a life with you, Mahir. I want quiet, I want noise, I want all of it, and I want you to be there beside me. As long as you're with me, I think I can adjust to anything."

Stone watches Robotnik with wide eyes, fighting back tears. "If you hadn't already proposed, I would propose to you right now so hard."

Robotnik sputters a surprised laugh. "Perhaps I underestimated the psychological effects of a good sunset after all."

Stone grins and leans his head against Robotnik's shoulder. "Sentimental drivel," he teases.

"Yeah, yeah."

Stone shuts his eyes, squeezing his fingers gently around Robotnik's hand, imagining what it will feel like when a wedding band is nestled around Robotnik's ring finger. "A beginning," he repeats, like an affirmation, an agreement.

Robotnik hums again. "Yeah."

The sun has disappeared, leaving the dark sky illuminated only by the splintered moon. The Crab bobs serenely in the calm waves of the sea, not too far from shore, and the badniks sleep in a uniform pile beside the picnic basket on the grass. Shadow returns shortly after - making more than a few comments about how gross they are, which means he probably overheard at least some of their conversation - and plops down beside them, silently watching the stars with a faraway expression.

Altogether, it's a strange scene, but as Robotnik astutely observed, normal has never suited them.

Chapter Text

Dawn creeps gently into the room, soft and golden, casting long slants of light across the wooden floorboards and the edge of the neatly rumpled quilt. The air is cool, still touched by night, and carries the faint, earthy scent of dew-soaked grass through the open window. Stone blinks awake slowly, his body reluctant to move, lulled by the warmth of the bed and the steady rhythm of Robotnik's breathing beside him. The cottage feels timeless in moments like this - quiet, safe, as if the rest of the world has politely stepped aside to let them begin their day in peace.

Stone rolls onto his side, his bleary eyes catching sight of Robotnik's sleeping form. As always, his heart swells with adoration. It's become a daily struggle not to smother Robotnik with kisses and affection right after waking up; although Stone's desire is as unfathomable as it ever was, he has to weigh it against his reluctance to disturb Robotnik's sleep. Of course, there are times when he simply can't help himself but rouse Robotnik with kisses or touches or words - and Robotnik doesn't seem averse to those mornings, not one bit - but on this particular morning, Stone is content to let Robotnik sleep.

Stone has always been an early riser - more specifically, he's never needed much sleep to get by. For as long as he'd known Robotnik, he'd always made sure to wake up before him so he could prepare a latte, secure some food, and get the lab up and running before Robotnik came in. His life now is not much different in that regard, aside from the wonderful fact that Robotnik is no longer his boss, but his husband.

As Stone dresses for the day - a cream turtleneck sweater and jeans, since he's expecting it to be cold - he can't help but watch Robotnik sleep, his chest rising and falling with gentle breaths, looking more relaxed and unguarded than Stone ever thought possible. He wants him to sleep, wants him to wake up at his leisure. Still, he can't leave him without saying goodbye; as quietly as he can, Stone moves around the bed, leaning down to kiss Robotnik's brow. Robotnik doesn't stir, thankfully. Stone gently brushes some hair across Robotnik's forehead, noting how long his hair has gotten lately. Perhaps he'll offer him a trim later.

Robotnik issues a soft groan and shifts in his sleep, his left hand pulling free of the blankets and resting on his stomach. Robotnik's wedding band catches the early morning light, the shining titanium like a crescent of moonlight on Robotnik's finger. Stone can't help but fiddle with his own ring, running his thumb over the smooth alloy. They were both made from a piece of the Crab's old hull - Robotnik's idea, although he insisted it was more about convenience and less about sentimentality, despite Stone knowing better - and Stone can't imagine loving a ring more.

They both had a hand in designing them; it was Stone's idea to engrave them with the words 'I am yours', but Robotnik's to translate that into binary. The numbers cover the entire surface of the ring in two lines, which semi-accidentally ended up looking like a lovely pattern. Stone can't think of a better ring for Robotnik than one that showcases the beauty of math.

Although Stone could certainly stand here and stare at Robotnik all morning contemplating how much he loves everything about him, he has a full day ahead of him and it's time to get to it.

The house is quiet as Stone moves through it. The cottage has very little tech installed in it outside of the lab, so it's serenely silent at this time of the morning; no screens or automated machines whirring and buzzing, only the bright chirping of birds and the occasional call of a fox.

Shadow is either out or he isn't awake yet, but lately Shadow has been sleeping in, too. Maybe it's because he has his own bedroom for the first time, or perhaps having a place to call home has curbed his vagabond tendencies. It might even be because of Sonic and the others. Whatever the reason, Stone is glad he's feeling more relaxed and at home.

Stone passes through the quaint, cozy living room and into the kitchen, grabbing his brown waxed jacket and pulling on his boots. A large, solitary glass bottle sits on the kitchen table; he grabs it before heading to the door. He has a quick errand to run before he can start breakfast, and it's of the utmost importance. Stone swings the kitchen door open, locking it behind him as he steps out into the pale morning light.

The morning unfolds slowly, as if the land itself is waking from a long, contented sleep. A fine mist drifts across the fields, clinging low over the dewy grass, softening the world into a watercolor. The soil beneath his feet is thick with water, squelching under his every step. Stone glances back at their cottage, catching a glimpse of it as the morning sun peeks over the dark gambrel roof. It's almost picturesque. Stone and Robotnik designed it that way, of course, down to the brickwork and the big bay window in the front of the house. Over the last several months, an outbreak of English ivy has taken hold of the Southern side of the cottage, creeping up the wall to cling snugly along the brick design. It makes their little cottage look so much more quaint and Stone loves it, but he also knows he'll have to tear it all down soon to ensure the ivy doesn't start eroding the brick. Perhaps they can find a way to reinforce the South side of the house so the ivy can grow freely.

The walk to his destination is only around ten minutes, up and over a few hills. Time moves more slowly in the countryside. For so long, both he and Robotnik lived at a breakneck pace, never slowing down, never taking a moment to stop and look around. Now it feels like that's all they do, but it doesn't feel as jarring as he expected; it feels earned. So far, it seems like Robotnik feels the same, but Stone is always on high alert to ensure Robotnik is happy and comfortable.

Robotnik's happiness has always been Stone's first and most important priority. That feeling has only intensified since he's gone from employee to friend to husband.

Stone knows he's close to his destination when he hears the familiar sound of excited bleating over the hill, and soon after, he sees a small herd of goats racing over the hill on their stubby legs. Stone braces himself for impact; some of the younger ones are especially feisty and enjoy greeting Stone by ramming into him - it's as harmless as it is adorable, but it's still worth preparing for the inevitable head-butting.

After greeting every goat individually - they get fussy if he doesn't - Stone walks them all back to the farm. A familiar figure waves at him from the gate; a tall, auburn-haired woman carrying a large basket of eggs. Stone waves back, stumbling when one of the goats bumps into the back of his knee. The woman laughs, opening the gate to allow the goats back in.

"Good morning, Helena," Stone says.

"Morning," Helena ushers Stone in along with the goats. "They're happy to see you as always," she chides.

"Of course they are. I'm their meal ticket," Stone replies with a grin. "Without me, they'd be out of a job."

"Only the Austrian pair," Helena points out. "The rest aren't good enough for your husband's coffee, or so I understand."

"He has a strong preference," Stone explains with a laugh. Helena snorts.

"I understand more than you know. My husband is so particular it drives me up the wall sometimes." She eyes the glass bottle in Stone's hand. "Just a refill today?"

"I'll take a dozen eggs, too," Stone says with a polite smile.

"Coming right up," Helena answers. She starts walking up toward the farm and Stone follows, still surrounded by excitable goats. "I'd ask you in for tea, but I know how much you hate being away from your husband for too long," she remarks with a smirk. "You're devotion to him is almost scary!"

Stone laughs along with her, mostly because she'll never know how accurate that observation really is.

.

.

.

By the time he gets home, Stone's boots are caked in mud and he smells like goats. He shucks off his boots before heading inside, sets the eggs on the counter and stores the jar of goat's milk in the fridge before heading briskly to the bedroom for a quick shower and change of clothes. The bed is empty; Robotnik must have gotten up early. Stone's not planning on leaving the house again today, so after his shower, he pulls on a comfortable button-down shirt and dark linen pants before leaving the bedroom and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started.

Still rubbing a towel through his hair, his gait slows for a moment when he catches a whiff of something cooking and hears the unmistakable sound of food sizzling in a pan. He peeks into the kitchen to see Shadow standing on a wooden stool by the stove, pushing eggs around in a pan with a spatula. He's wearing one of Stone's aprons, one that Robotnik got him a few months ago with the words "Espresso Yourself" written in flowy letters on the front. Shadow has rolled it up several times so it fits him better.

Shadow's eyes don't stray from the pan. "Morning," he mutters.

"Good morning," Stone says, his voice laced with surprise. His gaze drifts to the counter, where a plate of golden, sugar-coated French toast catches his attention. More is cooking in another pan. "I didn't know you could cook, Shadow!"

"I can't. French toast and scrambled eggs are pretty much the extent of it." Shadow pulls the pan from the heat and tips the cooked eggs into a bowl. He starts cracking more eggs into the pan, pouring a bit of milk in with them. "Maria's favorite breakfast."

Stone smiles. "It smells incredible. Do you need any help?"

Shadow shakes his head. "You can let Ivo know breakfast will be ready soon, if you want. He's in the lab."

"I figured as much." Stone isn't very accustomed to having nothing to do in the kitchen, honestly. It makes him feel strangely out of place. "Thank you for making breakfast, Shadow. Sorry if I was a little late getting to it today."

"You weren't. I just felt like lending a hand today, that's all."

"Oh?"

For a moment, Shadow says nothing. His eyes are trained on the eggs, his shoulders unusually stiff. After a brief pause - like he's weighing the weight of his words - he finally speaks, quieter this time. "It's normal for family to help out sometimes… right?"

Stone isn't sure what to say right away. He doesn't have much experience with family to be an authority on the subject, but strangely, that was what made all of this work. This unorthodox little family they've formed together couldn't have happened if any of them had anyone else to call family to begin with. A sad thought, perhaps, but Stone also thinks it's a little bit beautiful.

"It is," Stone says with a smile. "Family also teaches each other, so if you'd like to learn to cook or bake other things, I'd be happy to teach you sometime."

Shadow's shoulders relax. He stirs the eggs, nodding. "I guess I wouldn't mind knowing how to make more than a couple of dishes."

.

.

.

Latte in hand, Stone heads to the lab. Just like the rest of the cottage, the door to the lab is unassuming and quaint, an adorable white paneled door that looks like it might lead to a pantry or a charming sunroom. In actuality, it opens into an elevator that takes one a good three meters underground to Robotnik's shiny new laboratory.

As soon as Stone steps into the lab, he's overcome with a wonderful feeling. He loves the cottage, but he loves the lab even more. The juxtaposition of a dark, cold lab filled with the most advanced tech on the planet Earth nestled underneath such a warm, charming, picturesque cottage is never not extremely funny, but it also somehow perfectly encapsulates the wonderful absurdity of their new partnership.

In a lot of ways, the new lab resembles his old labs. Robotnik has a certain aesthetic that he's partial to; dark, sleek metals, dim lighting, and splashes of ominous red glows. Even his architecture has a flair for the dramatic. Compared to his previous labs, however, his Norwich lab has a quieter, more understated presence that makes it feel less imposing. It's brighter - not by much, but brighter nonetheless - and somehow, the layout makes it feel more welcoming and open. The edges have softened, so to speak, and Stone didn't realize until recently how much Robotnik's laboratories have always mirrored his own disposition.

A badnik greets Stone almost as soon as he descends into the lab, flying over to him with an excitable beep and extending a gripper claw to take the latte. Since they're no longer being used for military purposes or world domination, the badniks are now mostly programmed to help out around the lab and sometimes in the house. That isn't to say they couldn't blast something into dust if asked to, but hopefully they'll never find themselves in a position where lethal force is necessary. Stone passes off the latte to the eager machine, issuing a thank-you and a little pat on its casing before following it through the lab to where Robotnik is squirreled away.

As Stone expected, Robotnik is working in the research area, a detailed hologram of the moon pulled up on the largest monitor. He's swiping through various calculations and adjusting them, so fixated on his work Stone almost hates to disturb him.

The badnik glides over and offers the latte to its creator. Robotnik takes it, taking a sip with a contented sigh before turning to regard Stone, eyeing him up and down.

"Isn't that the shirt you got on our honeymoon? In that little Mediterranean coastal town?"

Stone grins, almost embarrassed by how much he loves the shirt purely because it reminds him of their honeymoon. Every time he puts it on, he swears he can smell the salty sea air, the fragrant food stalls in town, and the wildflowers that surrounded the little bungalow where they spent two amazing weeks. "You remembered."

Robotnik taps his temple. "Eidetic memory, Mahir," he reminds. "Plus, it's impossible to forget how pathetic you looked when we got caught in the rain that day."

"Does your eidetic memory recall how much you complained when your coat got soaked?" Stone shoots back, eyebrow raised.

Robotnik sniffs. "The rain was heavier there. And loud. And it was both warm and cold at the same time."

"You complained for a full twenty minutes, if memory serves."

"I observed aloud! There's a clear difference."

Stone chuckles and moves in closer, pressing a kiss to Robotnik's cheek. "Of course, Doctor." He glances over Robotnik's shoulder at the monitor. "How's project Lunar Repair going?"

Robotnik hums. "I have a few ideas so far." With two fingers, he swipes a new screen into view, one with another model of the moon surrounded by small canisters. "Seeing as how Earth doesn't currently possess even a tenth of the energy required for a task like this, Chaos energy seems like the only viable option." He zooms in on the canisters. " We'll set up a containment field and use controlled nuclear fusion to remelt and fuse the crust and mantle. I'm still working out the gravitational rebalancing… Plus, there's the long-term orbital corrections to consider as well." He sighs, but Stone knows the cadence of that sigh; he's lost in research and creation, his brilliant mind spinning countless calculations and simulations that Stone can only guess at.

The Lunar Repair project is not something Robotnik is working on out of obligation. He doesn't feel responsible whatsoever for what happened to the moon, which is a relief because at least in Stone's opinion, he did absolutely nothing wrong. In Stone's eyes, though, Robotnik has never done anything wrong, so maybe he's a little biased. The whole unprecedented endeavor is being done purely for his enduring love of science and robotic engineering. And maybe a little because the world will eventually be destroyed by wild tidal forces or the moon's eventual gravitational collapse. But mostly for the love of science.

And Stone loves seeing him back in his element. His genius mind was made to solve problems of this magnitude, the problems that no one else on Earth is advanced enough to solve.

When Robotnik headed the shadow ops program for the government, all he did was work. He loved the work, but that was all he did. In the Crab, it was the opposite. Finally, Stone feels like Robotnik has achieved a healthy balance; his new lab allows him to work wherever inspiration strikes, and the cottage allows him to take it easy whenever he needs a break. Silence and noise.

"As long as you're staying far away from any potential blasts of chaos energy, it's a plan I can fully support," Stone says, joining his hands behind his back as he looks over the elaborate plans on the monitor. He notices a pair of blueprints in the lower right-hand corner of the screen and nods at them. "What are those?"

"Ah," Robotnik taps the blueprints, and the layers come together to form what looks like a pair of robots, one more cubed in design and the other round. "I've been designing autonomous robots that could potentially run the orbital mission in our stead. Emergency damage control, sort of." He huffs a laugh. "Personally, I've had enough of the whole endless void of space thing. For now, anyway."

"I can understand that," Stone says softly, running a comforting hand along Robotnik's back. "If you need a break, Shadow's making breakfast. You should join us."

Robotnik raises an eyebrow. "Since when does the emo hedgehog know how to cook?"

"He's the Ultimate Lifeform - he can do everything. Or at least scrambled eggs and French toast, until I teach him more."

Robotnik scoffs. "Alright, but you're taste-testing everything first," he replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I'll be up in a minute."

Satisfied, Stone turns to leave. He doesn't get further than a couple of steps before his wrist is grabbed from behind and he's pulled back. Stone catches himself from stumbling and turns; Robotnik is upon him faster than he can ask what's the matter, pulling Stone into an urgent but tender kiss. Stone melts into it instantly, sliding his hands around Robotnik's middle, drawing him in closer, deepening the kiss with a soft hum of delight. Robotnik's hands cradle Stone's jaw, his mustache tickling Stone's nose as he tilts his head, his tenderness transforming into something more ardent.

Before meeting Robotnik, Stone had never really known what true happiness felt like. He used to think it was a myth - something adults made up to comfort disillusioned children until they were old enough to accept how dull and empty the world really was. It wasn't that his life had been particularly hard or unlucky; if anything, it had been the opposite. He just never had anyone or anything that gave him a reason to feel excited about the future, nothing he wanted to pour himself into or hold onto.

That changed when he met Robotnik, of course. He thought he'd known happiness then; just being near Robotnik filled him with so much joy he sometimes worried his meager physical vessel wasn't enough to hold it all in.

The happiness he felt now was incomprehensible. There was so much of it that it exploded out of his every pore and filled every bit of empty space in the world, in the atmosphere, and beyond even that, ever unfolding. There was no end to it.

When they part, breathing hot against each other's mouths, Stone is helplessly speechless. Robotnik's cheeks are pink but his gaze is steady.

"I've been working on acting on my new impulses regarding physical intimacy," he explains softly. "How am I doing so far?"
"Fantastic," Stone breathes wonderously. He slips his arms over Robotnik's shoulders, his hand playing in Robotnik's hair. "Incredible, magnificent even. No notes, Doctor, none at all."

Robotnik breathes in deeply. "I admit I've grown accustomed to waking up with you still beside me," he says, brushing a titanium thumb gently over Stone's cheek. "It's possible I missed you this morning."

Stone's heart soars in joy. "I'm sorry, Ivo. I had to make a trip to the farm this morning, so I got up earlier than usual."

"Ah, of course. No wonder my latte is so much creamier today."

Stone grins. "I promised you the best, didn't I?" His hand plays in Robotnik's hair, curling some of the longer strands around his finger.

"You've always been the best," Robotnik says, that soft and adoring smile shaping his lips again, the smile that Stone knows is only for him. "Why else would I have kept you around for so long?"

"Flatterer," Stone mumbles with a breathy laugh. He pulls Robotnik into another kiss, just one more before they head up to the cottage for breakfast.

Not too long ago, Robotnik stood on the bridge of the Eclipse Cannon waiting for death, and Stone stood far below him on Earth, watching the sky. The memory still shimmers like an afterimage for both of them - but now, the distance between them is gone.

They're finally standing together, feet planted firmly on the ground.