Chapter Text
“stone?” robotnik’s voice rang through the air, but there was no answer. he called again, more forcefully this time, his irritation rising.
“stone!” his tone grew sharper, fraying at the edges with concern.
still, no response.
robotnik’s heart skipped a beat as a cold, unsettling feeling began to settle in his chest. he spun around, scanning the lab in frustration. where was that fool? usually, stone was never far behind, always eager to do his bidding, always in the background, quietly waiting for the next order.
but today?
today, there was nothing.
the silence stretched on, unbearable, and robotnik’s mind raced. he moved quickly, striding to stone’s workstation, only to stop dead in his tracks.
…
“s-stone.?”
…
stone was lying on the floor, a strange stillness to his form. his face was pale, eyes closed, and a thin trickle of blood stained the corner of his lips. robotnik’s heart lurched, his throat tight with disbelief.
no. this wasn’t real.
he rushed to stone’s side, kneeling beside him, his fingers trembling as he reached for stone’s wrist. no pulse. the coldness that seeped through his fingers was enough to make his stomach turn.
stone was dead.
robotnik’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. but everything felt wrong. the lab felt wrong.
the very air felt wrong.
the delicate petals that had once been inside stone’s chest were now scattered around him, a soft carpet of white and purple.
dicentra.
bleeding hearts.
the flower that symbolized the grief of unrequited love, the flower that had been silently marking stone’s slow death.
…
he laughed.
a bitter, almost manic sound, the kind that didn’t even feel real, as though his brain couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of what had happened.
it was a laugh of disbelief, a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
how was he supposed to react to this? the question echoed in his mind, a mocking rhythm that he couldn’t shake. everything about it felt wrong, like a cruel joke that he was too slow to understand.
robotnik couldn’t stop staring at them—at the petals falling from stone’s mouth, the remnants of something he hadn’t understood until it was too late.
another strangled laugh escaped robotnik’s throat.
“no… no, this is impossible,” he murmured, the words catching in his mouth. “you’re… you’re supposed to be here, stone. you… you can’t leave me like this.”
he cradled stone’s head in his hands, pulling him close as if he could reverse the inevitable. but stone’s body was limp, unyielding. the weight of it crushed robotnik’s chest.
he had never felt so helpless. so small.
after all, he had known.
he had known all along, hadn’t he? the moments where stone’s coughs had been deeper than usual, the times he had seen stone glance at him with that unreadable look in his eyes, the quiet desperation in the air that robotnik had refused to acknowledge, brushing it off with cold, clinical indifference. he had seen the petals. he had heard the coughs.
but he had ignored them. he had deliberately chosen to ignore them.
robotnik’s eyes blurred with unshed tears, a rare vulnerability overtaking him. it wasn’t supposed to end like this. they were supposed to keep going, the two of them, pushing forward into whatever came next. he had taken stone’s loyalty for granted, believing it would never waver. but stone had been fading for weeks, each passing day another step closer to this moment.
and now, he was gone.
his hands shook as he stroked stone’s messy hair, the feel of it slipping through his fingers like sand.
stone had been more than an assistant. more than a sycophant. stone had been everything to him.
he loved stone.
he loved him with all his twisted heart, even if he’d never said it.
even if he’d never given stone the chance to know.
robotnik’s chest tightened painfully.
“you… you were everything, stone,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “everything to me. i—i never told you… i never told you how much you meant to me. i never realised it until it was too late.”
he placed his forehead against stone’s, closing his eyes, as if trying to will some warmth back into the body in his arms.
robotnik had never said the words, not once.
not because he didn’t feel them, but because he didn’t know how to say them. he had spent so much of his life pushing people away, pushing stone away, that now, in this moment, with everything broken, he was just starting to realise how much he had needed him.
how much he still needed him.
stone… he was the one person who never faltered, who always stood by him, no matter how harsh the orders, no matter how impossible the tasks.
robotnik felt a tremor pass through him as he gently kissed stone’s forehead, his hand trembling as it lingered there.
“i’m sorry,” robotnik whispered, the words barely audible through the lump in his throat. “i never gave you what you deserved. i never— i never gave you the love you needed. i was too blinded by everything else, stone. i was too blind to see you.”
he clutched stone’s body tighter, desperate for a sign that this wasn’t real. but there was nothing. no warmth, no pulse, no breath. just the lifeless body of the one person he had pushed away for too long.
“i love you, stone.”
the petals surrounding them seemed to mock him, as if nature itself was reminding him of his failure. the bleeding hearts of dicentra—a symbol of love unspoken, of loss too deep to ever heal.
“i should’ve told you sooner,” robotnik murmured. “i should’ve told you that i… that i loved you. that you mattered to me more than anything. i never realised how much until now. i didn’t understand… didn’t understand what you were to me.”
his voice faltered, and the tears that had been building finally spilled over.
”please, please wake up.”
he wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, cradling stone’s body, lost in a sea of regret and guilt. time seemed to stretch into an endless, agonizing moment.
eventually, robotnik’s grip on stone loosened, but only slightly. he leaned back against the cold lab floor, his gaze never leaving stone’s lifeless form.
“this was never supposed to happen,” robotnik whispered, the words escaping him in a hoarse breath. “this was never supposed to be the end.”
he closed his eyes, the petals of dicentra scattered around them like the final remnants of a love that had never been returned.
for the first time in his life, robotnik didn’t have the answer.
he couldn’t fix this.
not this time.
because stone was gone. and robotnik realised, far too late, that the one person he could’ve loved, the one person who had been by his side through everything, thick and think, was the very one he had neglected