Chapter Text
The first thing Sonic noticed when he woke up was the cold, hard metal slab he was laying on.
He could immediately feel the tight knots buried deep in his muscles from sleeping in such an awkward position on a material so rigid and unforgiving, causing him to instinctively snake a hand around to rub out the sore tissue. As he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bench, he rolled his shoulder around, attempting to crack it and relieve some of the tension built up in his joints.
The second thing he noticed was that he was sitting in some sort of containment cell.
It was pretty plain, with sleek metal walls, bland tiled floors, and harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Despite not being anything spectacular, it certainly wasn’t the worst thing Eggman had ever shoved him into, that is, assuming that his imprisonment was somehow associated with his long-time nemesis. He was struggling to procure a name other than Robotnik’s that could be responsible, and it wasn’t like there were many other people capable of capturing Sonic and placing him in such a compromising position.
But regardless, assumptions aside, he was distracted by the third thing he noticed.
A containment shield, a transparent red barrier, sat shimmering in front of him, its opacity distorting his view of what lay on the other side and casting an eerie red glow over the otherwise gray cell.
Pushing himself off of the bench, taking a moment to twist his torso and attempt to stretch out the intense cramps he felt in his lower back, Sonic walked toward the barrier, eyeing it critically. It flickered and wavered in front of him, the static of the projection buzzing at a low, somewhat menacing frequency. Sonic almost laughed out loud. Since when did containment shields ever work on him? Eggman must have forgotten what he was capable of. He would be out of here in no time, soon free to walk out and away from wherever it was he found himself trapped in.
However, as he reached up a finger to poke at it (because he really was that thoughtless sometimes), there was a strong tingling sensation emanating from his wrists as he approached, and as the tip of his finger made contact, the fizziness crawling along his skin erupted into a piercing, screaming explosion of pain.
Immobilized and shocked by the sudden onslaught that set his nerves aflame and raced across his body, Sonic could do nothing more than collapse and curl up in a heaving, pathetic ball on the ground. And when the shriek of pain finally subsided into a muffled throb, he looked down and noticed the fourth and final thing.
A pair of cuffs clasped around each of his wrists.
They were a shiny, silver chrome with a thin black indent circumventing the perimeter of the flat surface, the accessories glinting dully in the light and clamped over the hem of his glove. The fit was snug— not tight enough so that it was uncomfortable, but also not loose enough where he could easily wriggle his hand out.
And boy, were they ugly.
In fact, that was Sonic’s first thought, and it had nothing to do with the revelation that the cuffs had sent a shock through his body unlike anything he had ever felt before. No, his initial opinion on the matter was that they were definitely not his style and looked incredibly tacky, the dark gray metal clashing horribly with the white of his gloves and the blue of his fur. And the black groove splitting the whole thing was another questionable choice, making it seem as though Sonic could apply pressure along the seam with a twisting motion that would snap the whole thing off like a jar of pickles.
And that’s exactly what he did.
Clamping a hand around the cuff and attempting to unscrew it, Sonic began to twist… right before he was abruptly stopped as yet another explosion of pain erupted up his arms, this one somehow worse than the last as it sent daggers that stabbed straight into his skin, muscles, tendons, bones… listen, you get the point. It was not pleasant.
It was enough to almost make him pass out, his vision going hazy for a moment before refocusing to find himself on the ground yet again. Letting out a groan, Sonic pressed a hand to his head. In a way, the cuffs reacting so harshly to being tampered with should have been obvious given their initial response when he had done something as innocuous as touch a finger to the barrier, but still. It didn’t make it any less painful.
He glared down at the cuffs. Okay then! Looked like removing them with blunt force was out of the question, since believe it or not, he wasn’t a masochist. Seriously, what was the issue these things had with him? It seemed like anytime he moved or breathed or simply looked at them funny, they were content to zap him like a bug.
(Never mind the fact that both times they had rendered him into a twitching mess on the floor, it was in direct retaliation to something he did to escape. The cuffs clearly had an objective to accomplish, and Sonic had to begrudgingly admit, they were doing a pretty damn good job of it).
Sonic let out a sigh as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the floor. Getting the cuffs off could wait, they were a problem better equipped for Tails’ intervention. Gadgets and gizmos were quite literally his thing; all Sonic was good for was running fast and punching Eggman’s robots and saying cheesy little quips that made everyone groan with how corny they were. And right now, his main goal was to find a way to slip past the barrier shield so that he could brush off this whole bizarre occurrence behind him.
With that being said, he needed a moment to recuperate. So, while he took a moment to collect himself and get ready, now was probably as good as a time as ever to go over how he had gotten stuck in here in the first place.
It had started about as stereotypically as one would expect it to. Sonic and Tails had been out at lunch, going to Sonic’s favorite chili dog stand that was almost certainly still in business because of their frequent visits. They had just settled down on a park bench to dig in, when they had been unceremoniously interrupted by the sound of screams and explosions echoing around them.
And of course, as was to be expected, Dr. Eggman himself floated down not a moment later, much to Sonic’s exasperation.
“Dude, are you serious? You couldn’t wait until the lunch rush was over? I’m literally in the middle of something here.”
Tails had a fistful of fries in his mouth, so he didn’t say anything. He did shoot Eggman an apprehensive glare, however, which was all he really needed to do since Sonic was more than capable of handling the talking. He was kind of a blabbermouth.
“And that is precisely why I am attacking you now!” Eggman had retorted, shooting a small laser out of his hovering eggmobile that burnt the remains of Sonic’s chili dog into a charred pile of ash. How he possessed a laser that small and had an aim so precise, Sonic didn’t know, but what he did know was that was incredibly rude and really ticked him off. It had been such a petty move, and so unnecessary.
“Hey! I wasn’t done eating that! These things cost seven dollars! You know how hard it is to afford that in this economy?!”
“Sonic,” Tails had whisper-hissed next to him through a mouthful of fries, “we eat here like five times a week. I don’t think cost is really an issue for us.”
“Not now, Tails,” Sonic muttered out of the side of his mouth, right before pointing a furious gloved finger up at Dr. Robotnik. “You’re going to pay for that, Egghead!”
And pay for that he did. Because fueled by the rage of losing about three dollars and fifty cents worth of his lunch, Sonic had demolished the assaulting robots in near record time. Surrounded by smoldering piles of mech and metal with Eggman vanishing sometime during the battle, Sonic had placed a triumphant hand on his hips, his satisfaction only being slightly marred by the tragedy of his lost chili dog.
However, right as he was about to high-five Tails and say some cringe-inducing one-liner about how the whole thing was super easy and he wanted another chili dog, he had cut himself short as he noticed one last robot in the corner of his vision.
“Hold on, buddy, I got this,” he said with a smirk to Tails, and then tossing him a handful of rings, added: “Mind grabbing me a chili dog for when I get back?”
Not bothering to wait for Tails’ response and to check if he had given him the correct amount of rings, because he was rather bad at math, Sonic took off in pursuit of the final robot. However, to his surprise, the thing was deceptively fast, and before he knew it, he found himself in an unfamiliar corner of the city, following the zippy thing down an alleyway that was definitely not dark, spooky, and creepy.
Okay. So maybe the writing had been on the wall, and Sonic wasn’t talking about the graffiti that comically said ‘Danger!’ in big blocky font next to a suspicious-looking dumpster as he entered the offshoot. He was stubborn, though, and letting one singular robot escape wasn’t exactly his prerogative.
However, the odd thing about it, and perhaps another signal that something wasn’t quite right, was that the robot had disappeared.
There was nowhere for it to go; it was quite literally a dead end. And as Sonic had scratched his head in confusion, he failed to notice the commotion of a big hulking eggbot sneaking out from behind the dumpster he had passed on the way in, at least, not until he felt something hard and heavy hit the back of his head.
His vision had erupted into stars, and that was how the memory ended. Pretty generic and boring, and definitely nowhere near the top of the list of creative ways Sonic had been captured but hey, it worked.
And now he was here… wherever that was. But anyways. It had happened, and there was no changing it now, and not one to be tethered down to one place for too long, Sonic devised an escape plan.
It didn’t take him long to explore the entirety of his cell, the drab thing decorated with nothing save for the cold metal bench he had woken up on. And since this wasn’t his first rodeo, the number of times that he had been captured by his nemesis innumerable, he knew what his primary objective was— he needed a way to shut the shield off so he could escape.
The walls surrounding the barrier, while brought the cuffs to a tingle, didn’t electrocute him quite like they had before, and so Sonic was able to poke and prod at them with ease. He made sure to stay away from the red, translucent, crackling shield; he might have been stupid, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to try to touch it again. The first time had been enough for him, thank you very much.
Regardless. Roving his hands over the surface of the chrome-plated wall next to the barrier, it only took him a few minutes to find a catch in the metal. It was a thin line, nearly imperceptible if you were to look at it with the naked eye, but noticeable enough beneath his fingertips. Poking his tongue out of his mouth in concentration, Sonic gently placed pressure on various points around the seam, until he felt something click beneath his hands.
And just like that, a panel popped out from the wall.
Sonic nearly laughed. If it hadn’t been obvious before this moment, he had definitely been captured by Eggman (which again, wasn’t really that surprising since who else would do such a thing to the great and loveable Sonic the Hedgehog?). Because only Dr. Robotnik himself would include such an obvious and exploitable design flaw in the prison cell. For a self-proclaimed evil genius, he certainly didn’t always deliver on the second part of his title.
Plucking a quill out of his head, Sonic charged it up with his crackling blue energy by rubbing it a few times between his fingers. There were perks to being a superpowered blue hedgehog freak, and destroying Dr. Robotnik's machinery was certainly at the top of that list. See, he could have sat there fiddling with the buttons and blinking lights and the switches sitting in front of him, or, he could just short-circuit the whole thing.
Which was exactly what he did. There was a crackle, a pop, and a burst of smoke, and within seconds, the red shield flickered off. Sonic snorted. Eggman’s tech was never even in competition with his sheer, awesome power. He could give the doctor pity points for trying, or…
… he could take off running down the hall, finally free from his imprisonment that had lasted little longer than an hour. Usually he made better time with his escapes than this, but hey, it didn’t change the fact that he was finally busting out of here.
However, he celebrated too soon, for he didn’t even make it to the end of the hall before the tingling, buzzing sensation began to rumble from the cuffs at his wrists, and glancing down with wide eyes before he had the time to react and process what was happening, yet another electrifying burst of pain seized his body, the epicenter right at his hands. Overcome by the haywiring sensation for yet a third time that day, Sonic tripped and fell, taking him farther down the hall as he slid and tumbled across the slick, tiled floor. And as he skidded to a stop, curled in fetal position in some primal method to protect himself from the unfettered pain that radiated throughout his entire being, he could do nothing more than lay there, paralyzed and unable to move.
Needless to say, he blacked out not too soon afterwards.
Some indeterminate amount of time later, Sonic found himself back in his cell, his back achy and crooked from the odd way he was splayed out on the metal slab lining the back wall. It was nearly identical to the first time he had woken up, however, this time, there was something slightly different. Notably, the fact that he had a guest with a big, toothy smile on his face, sneering down at him through the red shield with his hands on his hips.
“Those cuffs make quite the flattering accessory, don’t you agree Sonic? I designed them myself.”
Sonic failed to stifle the guttural noise of displeasure that tore free from the back of his throat as he pushed himself into a sitting position. This was absolutely the last thing he needed right now, was Eggman’s grating voice to exacerbate his pounding headache. “That must be why they look so ugly,” he commented drily, before cutting straight to the chase because he was sore and exhausted and overall not in a really good mood. Go figure. “What do you want from me this time, Egghead?”
“I think a better question would be, what don’t I want from you?” There was a pause as the two adversaries stood staring at each other for a long, drawn out moment, before Eggman followed it up by saying, “Go ahead. Ask the question.”
Sonic let out a long, suffering sigh, one that was equal parts fueled by Eggman’s ridiculous antics as well as the way his body creaked and whimpered in complaint every time he shifted his weight. “Okay, fine. What don’t you want from me, Egghead?”
In response, Eggman made a noise of delight and clapped his hands together, and altogether, Sonic regretted playing along with his shenanigans. To be fair, he probably would have been zapped to the brink of unconsciousness had he refused, but that still didn’t make him any more pleased about it. “Oh Sonic, I am so glad you asked!” (It was important to note that Sonic did not share that sentiment in the slightest.) “Why, what I don’t want you to do is get in my way! I’ve been scheming up a brilliant new plan, and the last thing I need is you interrupting me!”
Sonic quirked a sassy brow. “That’s it? You just want to keep me out of the way? That’s the only reason?”
“Well, yeah. I don’t think you understand how expensive my robots are to build. And you destroy a lot of them! I think if you would see the total sum of damages you have caused me over the years, you would be a lot more considerate and careful!”
Sonic had to resist the urge to smirk; the idea of him destroying so many robots that it drove Eggman to financial ruin was quite the funny and vindicating concept. Maybe instead of defeating him the old-fashioned way with the Chaos Emeralds and the Power of Friendship, he would just force Dr. Robotnik to file for bankruptcy. “And so you’re just going to what, lock me in here and have that be it?”
“Yep!” He paused as he stopped and thought about the implications of Sonic’s question, the incredulity that laced his tone. Because to be fair, it was kind of lame and anticlimactic. “I mean, would you like to be tortured? Because if you really want, I can arrange—”
Sonic held up a hand to hastily interrupt him. “No, no, I think I’ll pass on that, thanks for the offer though.”
He didn’t like the pensive way Eggman stroked his mustache, twirling it at the ends just like a cartoonish villain would. Which wasn’t even that good of a comparison because that was literally what he was: a cartoonish villain.
“Perhaps we’ll circle back on this,” he finally said, and Sonic cursed himself for questioning his motives in the first place. He really couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut in even the best circumstances, and right now he was finding himself in one that was pretty abysmal and located solidly in the D-Tier of bad situations. “But for now, I think I shall settle on letting you sit in here for a long while. You know, in some civilizations, prolonged periods of isolation were just as effective a torture method as other, more creative devices.” Eggman shot him a smarmy grin, one that Sonic would have loved to wipe off with a punch to the mustached face, if only it weren’t for the red barrier separating them and the fact that his limbs were so weak, it would probably come across as a gentle caress more than a physical blow.
As Sonic daydreamed about all the possible ways he could beat Eggman up, and trust him, there were quite a few, his captor continued talking, much to Sonic’s disdain. “I would offer you some enrichment toys to keep yourself entertained, but that would kind of defeat the whole purpose of…” he paused, gesturing loosely to the enclosure, “…this. Anywho, farewell for now, it really hasn’t been a pleasure!”
And with that, Sonic not having the gall or energy to muster up a snarky final word, Eggman departed and left Sonic blissfully alone.
At least, it had been blissful for a short while.
Because not long after, Sonic found himself incredibly bored out of his mind with nothing better to do than pace and reflect. Because after all of these failed escape attempts, what did he learn?
The cuffs around his wrists were his main issue at the moment. They didn’t allow him to tamper with them and somehow bound him to the cell so that if he managed to escape past the shield, they would shock him until he fell unconscious should he travel too far away.
Oh, and Eggman was just as irritating and obnoxious as the last time Sonic had thwarted his evil plan. But that went without saying.
As time stretched on, Sonic found himself wishing that Dr. Robotnik would show his face again, just so that he would have someone to talk to. Hell, at this point, wherever and whenever it was because it was impossible to tell how much time had elapsed, he would have even gladly engaged in conversation with Orbot and Cubot, which was how you knew he was going insane because those two robots were about the most insufferable things Sonic had ever encountered. He had no idea how Eggman, with his infamously short temper, managed to put up with those two, or why he had even willingly created them in the first place.
But that was beside the point. The only thing that punctuated how much time passed were the intermittent meals that would be delivered, which was always gray slop delivered on a platter and presented in a way as though it was supposed to be appetizing. Literally. Gray slop. Sonic knew Eggman was doing it just to be difficult, probably putting something barely edible in a blender and adding gray food coloring just to spite him. He wouldn’t put such pettiness past him, however, his stomach was too noisy and hunger too voracious for him to refuse the sustenance.
The worst part about it all, as Sonic waited for something, for anything to happen, were the dreams.
He dreamed of a lot of things. He dreamed of escaping, of running and tearing through forests and mountains and fields, and most tantalizingly of all, he dreamt of his friends. And while this may have sounded like a good thing, even amidst the loneliness of his endless imprisonment, it was actually something that was quite horrible. Wretched, even. Because nothing could compare to the soul-crushing feeling of reality flooding in when he awoke and realized that he hadn’t escaped, wasn’t outside, and was completely and utterly alone.
It also didn’t help that in his dreams, they would talk to him. It was always hazy, the conversations disjointed, stilted, and fuzzy in his mind, but it was enough to twist and pull at his heart. Sometimes they would ask where he had been, and other times, they would just chat with him like how they used to, as if nothing was wrong or had happened. What mattered, though, was the fact that he really felt like it was them in his dreams, each of their mannerisms, speech patterns, and catchphrases imprinted on his soul and regurgitated to him in such a way that it felt like they were actually speaking to him.
“Sonic.”
Yep. Just like that. Though none of his friends quite sounded quite so... dark, no one possessing a deep, raspy voice that was almost unintelligible amongst all the other things going on in his dream. And none of their voices sounded so realistic, like they were actually standing right next to him and speaking in his ear. This was an unusual development.
“Sonic.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. The second time confirmed it— the voice was far too vivid to be something that his mind conjured up. There was someone calling his name and trying to wake him up from his dream. Which was very rude; he was currently a million miles from this prison in his mind, frolicking through a flowery field and doing frilly things like blowing on dandelions and making wishes and rolling around in the grass. Couldn’t they see that and respect his privacy?!
“Sonic.”
The voice spoke yet again, this time with more urgency. It sounded familiar, flickering at the edges of his awareness as he slowly slipped away from his escapist paradise. “Go away,” Sonic attempted to respond, though to his own distant ears, it simply sounded like a load of incoherent mumbling. Reaching deep within his subconscious, Sonic attempted to pull himself back into his dream state, though he was met with little success.
And his efforts were certainly not helped by the fact that the disembodied voice unfortunately did not listen and leave like he had so politely asked. “Sonic. Wake up.”
Okay, yeah, there was no going back to sleep now. Much to Sonic’s groggy irritation.
Opening his eyes just a crack, he let out a pained groan as he found himself back in his dreary, depressing prison cell. The sun and blue skies were gone, replaced by chrome ceilings and harsh lights that were rather unflattering on his otherwise handsome complexion. Hopefully his intruder wasn’t someone he would need to dazzle or impress. It would be difficult to achieve either of those things under these conditions, both the bags under his eyes and the lights overhead doing him no favors.
And speaking of his intruder, Sonic had quite a few things to say to them. “Can’t you see that I’m incredibly busy?” he moaned as he sat up, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes as his whole posture slumped and slouched. “Like seriously. When I say, ‘go away,’ that doesn’t mean stick around and keep talking. Just for your information.”
Strangely enough, now that Sonic was awake, his guest (if he could be so polite to even call them that) didn’t seem to have anything to say. What they did do, however, was let out a derisive hmph!, something that had about the same effect of waking Sonic up as someone dunking him in a bucket of ice water.
Sonic froze, his bleary eyes widening and his droopy ears snapping forward. He knew that sound of disapproval, he could recognize it almost anywhere. Mainly because it was usually directed towards him whenever he did something super cool and not at all lame. There was only one person who was capable of making a noise that was equal parts judgmental, apathetic, and disgusted.
But that was impossible. There was no feasible way.
Except, his eyes straining to see past the thick, red barrier, Sonic realized with an odd twist in his gut that was both filled with dread at who it was and excitement about the fact that he could finally talk to someone that it was, in fact, him. There was no mistaking it, even through the dappled shield who the dark figure just beyond his reach was.
Because standing right outside his cell…
… was none other than Shadow the Hedgehog.