Work Text:
Sonic drops into the space between the exposed roots. He leans his back against the trunk. The bark digs uncomfortably into his body, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s too exhausted to sit upright on his lonesome. He has been running around the entire planet for the majority of the past few days with little to no rest or breaks. His feet burn as if set on fire. His lungs aren’t faring much better. He can ignore both of those as he forces his heart to beat at a steadier pace. This is difficult to manage when he feels so nauseous. The headache pummeling the inside of his head isn’t helping as it disperses his concentration like leaves in the early morning breeze.
Breeze definitely isn’t the right word, though. The wind right now is harsh, and despite how cold it is, it’s doing nothing to ease the pain in his body. It isn’t like the sunlight can reach him, either, when the forest is too thick and the mountains are too tall for the dawn. The night continues to surround him. The long shadows falling across him are proof enough of this.
All of this, however, the pain and the environment, pale in comparison to the weakness of his mind. He’s been so strung up on adrenaline for the past few days that the stress is only finally reaching him. He drowns beneath its mighty waves. His entire body trembles with the feeling of it despite how little energy he has left inside of him. His fingers flex against his thigh. An itchiness grows beneath the fur of his forearm. It would be hard to scratch it with his gloves on. There’s another solution, however, but Sonic swore he wouldn’t do that anymore.
As Sonic argues with himself, he sees motion in his peripheral vision. Sonic glances over. Amy Rose flops down between the roots beside him. She exhales heavily, nearly falling forward over the weight of it. She’s been fighting Metal Sonic on her own for hours now which explains why she looks as exhausted as Sonic feels. She’s also been dealing with the stress of these past few days, same as him. They both struggled alongside each other, and now they’ve been given a quiet moment of reprieve.
Amy stares at her forearms for a long moment. She sucks in a tight breath. Her peridot green eyes glance over at him. Sonic frowns, tilting his head to the side. Amy looks a few seconds away from crying. Sonic’s frown deepens. He turns his paw over on his thigh to show her his palm. Amy glances at it. She hesitantly reaches out to accept his paw. Despite being close to the brink, her grip is almost painfully tight. Sonic allows it, however, knowing that Amy could easily break his paw (Knuckles has done that one too many times for Sonic to think it’s fun anymore).
With their paws together, it’s easy for Amy and Sonic to lean into each other. Their shoulders push together, and Sonic sets his head on top of hers. Her breathing is terribly unstable and harsh, but the slight increase in quality compared to Sonic’s breathing allows him to mimic her in an attempt to regain control over his own. One after another, they slowly get their heartbeats to sync together at a far more manageable speed. While the pain in the rest of his body remains, Sonic is grateful to no longer be heaving every second.
“How’d you know?” Sonic asks. Amy hums in confusion. Sonic moves his head toward his forearm. He would gesture to it, but he doesn’t want to move his head and his other arm feels like it’s being weighed down with cinder blocks. “I mean, why’d you hold onto my paw? Do you know that I…”
Amy startles. In the corner of his vision, Sonic can see her eyes widening. Her attention snaps between him and their forearms like a game of ping-pong. Eventually, her peridot irises settle on their forearms. “Do you bite yourself, too?”
“Wait, you do it? I thought you just realized I did it and decided to help me,” Sonic responds. Shock coils through his chest. It is tempered somewhat by his exhaustion, but there’s enough for him to feel genuine surprise.
“No. I mean, I should have guessed. It’s something hedgehogs do, you know? Why wouldn’t you do it, too?” Amy breathily laughs. There’s no humor in her tone. There is only a strangled heaviness.
“It sucks,” Sonic mutters. “I don’t understand why my instincts think this is a good idea. It never is.”
Amy nods, unintentionally pushing Sonic’s head away from her. When she stops, he resettles his head. She seems none the wiser about what just happened because she agrees softly. “It totally sucks.”
Sonic taps his thumb against the side of her paw. “Have you figured out a way to stop yourself?”
“Not really. I usually try to distract myself. It doesn’t always work, but it’s all I’ve got,” Amy answers. “What about you? Do you have a way to stop yourself?”
“My family knows… and Shadow. I’m supposed to go to them if I ever feel the urge. I’ve tried doing that. It usually works, but it… It isn’t like I don’t want to do it anymore. I just no longer have free access to my arm with them holding onto it.” Sonic exhales. He tilts his head back, letting it hit against the tree trunk. He stares at the pale blue spreading across the sky, chasing away the velvety darkness of the night. “I also don’t want to do it around them. It makes me feel…”
Sonic trails off, unsure where he’s trying to go. Amy nods, however, finishing his thought. “You don’t want to appear weak. You’re supposed to be stronger than this. You shouldn’t be worrying the people around you.”
Amy says ‘you,’ but it’s clear from her voice that she means ‘we.’ Sonic, at least, takes comfort in the fact that it’s ‘we,’ not just ‘me.’ Amy is talking about both herself and him. Honestly, she’s right. Sonic doubts the two of them have interpreted her words the same way, but for the most part, they both have the same thoughts regarding their situation.
“Maddie and Tom have enough to deal with as it is. I don’t want Knuckles to think less of me. I don’t want Tails to think less of me. I plainly don’t want Tails to see all that blood, though. Shadow, too, but it’s also a matter of… It’s not a competition, but if it were, he would win, so I don’t understand why I do this,” Sonic elaborates, bringing in his personal experiences to prove that he’s on a similar wavelength as Amy to her.
“If it were a competition, you would also have me beat,” Amy chuckles. She rolls her shoulders with a quiet noise.
“But it’s not,” Sonic reminds her.
Amy nods. She pulls her thighs to her chest. She wraps the arm not holding onto Sonic’s paw around her knees. She leans forward, setting her chin against the back of her hand. She stares out at the surrounding trees with narrowed eyes. She acts like there’s a beast out there that only she can see— yet another threat to be eliminated by her hammer and his speed.
Maybe there is. Or, well, the ‘beast’ wouldn’t be out there. It’s right here. It’s within them, lurking like a terrible nightmare or an unconquered fear. A compulsion ingrained in their very instincts, demanding they resolve a crisis through bloodshed. It’s clear that they’ve both given in several times. Sonic knows he would have if Amy wasn’t here to hold onto him. He suspects she would have done the same if he wasn’t here. Sonic also knows this won’t be the last time they are forced to confront this part of themselves. Stress will always come for them given their lifestyles, and unwiring their instincts isn’t an option.
But when Sonic looks at Amy now, he feels a little better. She understands fundamentally what he’s going through. She knows how hard it is to resist the urge. She knows how annoying it feels to comply with it. She knows how biting hurts the body, soothes the instincts, and slowly kills the mind. Sonic doubts their experiences are completely similar, but there are less differences between the two of them compared to Sonic and the others in his life. He loves his family— he does— but he can tell they don’t quite get it. They want him to stop. He wants to stop, too. Amy wants the both of them to stop as well, but she knows how difficult it is.
Sonic squeezes her paw. He doubts he’s anywhere close to her grip strength, but it’s enough to snap her attention back into the present. Amy narrows her eyes at him. Sonic gives her a half-smile. “It might not be a perfect solution, but we could go to each other if we ever feel the urge. I know I said that it doesn’t work the way I want it to when I go to my family, but it still helps. I think we can really help each other, too, if we try.”
Amy returns his half-smile. “I… I’ve never had anyone to go to, so I want to try. Maybe it’ll work better for me. Maybe it won’t work at all. But I think it could be good for me. Thanks, Sonic.”
“Don’t thank me. You’re helping me, too, after all,” Sonic tells her. Sonic tugs at her paw. “Come on, we should get back to the others. They’re probably wondering where we’re at.”
It takes a lot more work for the two of them to get on their feet than it does for Amy to nod in response. Eventually, however, they manage to stand. Sonic’s soles burn from effort. He will have to ask Maddie to look over them when they return. They have to return first, though.
“I’ll race you,” Amy cheekily tells him.
Sonic arches a brow. “You do know I’m the fastest thing in the universe, don’t you?”
Amy starts jogging away. She calls over her shoulder, “I can’t hear you over the sound of my victory!”
Her jogging turns into running. She’s tinged with chaos energy a few shades darker than her fur. Sonic rolls his emerald eyes. His own chaos energy sparks in his chest. He follows after her. He could pass her, even with his body in its current condition, but he decides to run alongside her as they return to the others. They are, after all, friends. They’re accomplices now, too, as they share a promise to look out for one another.
And he’s going to. Sonic is going to help Amy, yes, and he’s also going to help himself. They’re going to get through this— both of them.