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1.
The breeze passing through is fairly cool, but Maddie shivers as it brushes against her because of the sweat running across her skin. This shivering nearly causes her to lose her balance. She avoids this by twisting her weight at the last second. It forces her out of her former yoga position. Maddie quickly returns to the original one. The momentary respite makes her muscles burn worse than before. Maddie holds back a sigh. This burn is good for her. It means she’s doing everything right. At least, that’s what she’s learned over years and years of doing yoga.
Maddie lingers in this position for a long moment. She would stay in it longer, but she feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. A frown pulls on her lips. She drops both of her knees onto the mat. She flattens her palms on either side of her. Maddie glances around the forest surrounding the porch. This isn’t the first time she’s felt like someone was watching her while she was doing yoga. It was a feeling she’s grown accustomed to. Recently, she’s discovered that she wasn’t crazy for feeling this way despite never seeing anyone. All along, it was Sonic watching her. Apparently, he would participate sometimes from a distance, always out of sight from her, especially when she would search for ‘him’ (since she didn’t know he was the one there).
Maddie still considers it a little creepy in hindsight, but she can’t blame Sonic for his actions. She doesn’t blame him now, either. She only wishes he wasn’t hiding from her again. She pushes herself onto her feet. She walks around the porch. She searches the spaces in the trees for him. Sonic’s blue coloration should stand out starkly with the greens and browns, but she doesn’t catch even the tips of his quills. She sets her hands on her hips with a drawn-out sigh.
Maddie turns around. She steps closer to her mat. By giving up, she finally finds Sonic. She should have figured he would be inside of the house instead of in the forest. She presses his face against the window inside the back door. She cannot see the bottom half of his face, but his emerald eyes are narrowed with intensity. Maddie tilts her head to the side at him. She waves her hand, beckoning him forward. Sonic flinches back so far that Maddie can’t see him clearly anymore. She still feels his eyes on her, however, so she sets an encouraging smile on her face to show that Sonic is welcome— not in trouble.
The door creaks as it opens to an ajar position. Sonic sticks his head through the narrowed space. Maddie can see his entire face now. His expression doesn’t bode well. He carries himself with a different air than usual. There’s less confidence, for one. For another, Maddie thinks Sonic looks sad. He isn’t necessarily frowning, nor are his eyes particularly downcast. It is only a gut feeling— likely born from the same place that lets her know when Sonic is looking at her.
Maddie’s limbs protest when she squats, but she wants to put her eye level closer to Sonic’s to set him at ease. Maddie crosses her arms over her knees. Her brows knit together in concern. “What’s wrong, blueberry?”
“I—” Sonic starts, likely prompted by the nickname. He jerkily cuts himself off, though, and he’s said too little for Maddie to extrapolate on what the rest of what he was going to say was. Instead of speaking, he steps out onto the porch. He shuts the door behind him. All his movements are slow and coordinated, so it surprises Maddie when Sonic blitzes across the porch to her side. Wind wafts off him when he stops. Maddie physically holds herself back from a full-body shiver. She doesn’t want Sonic to mistake her sweat-induced reaction to the cold for disgust or discomfort at his presence.
Sonic’s fingers close around his forearm. He holds it tightly. This action paired with the heaviness skirting around the corners of his countenance tells Maddie exactly what she needs to know without him having to say it. Maddie found out not too long ago that Sonic is similar to Earth hedgehogs in many ways; one of which includes self-mutilating when he’s stressed. Maddie doesn’t know what’s stressing him out right now, but she can make an educated guess. Sonic’s brothers have only recently recovered from sickness, so they’re still fatigued. Additionally, Sonic has yet to tell Tom the truth despite admitting to Maddie that he wants to. Either of these— or really any number of events surrounding Sonic— could have prompted his instincts.
“It’s alright, Sonic,” Maddie promises. Despite not wanting her son to be in this position in the first place, she’s proud of him for coming to her. Sonic’s habit developed when he was a hoglet all on his own, so there’s still a learning curve of reaching out to others. This is a step in the right direction.
Maddie sets her elbows on her knees. She reaches her hands out. Sonic pries his paw off his forearm to set it in her hand. His other paw takes a little longer, but Maddie is soon holding onto both of his paws. She tugs them forward, bringing them away from Sonic’s body. He glances between his forearm— the scars hidden beneath the fur— and Maddie’s caring gaze.
“You told me once that you would do yoga ‘with’ me. Would you like me to give you some pointers?” Maddie asks, pointing her chin toward her mat. Sonic includes the mat in his eyes’ constant rotation. When his eyes settle on Maddie, he nods firmly. Maddie’s smile widens. She releases his paws, shoving them against her thighs. She pushes as she straightens her spine. If Sonic wasn’t so out of it, Maddie suspects he would have made an old-person joke at her expense.
Worryingly, he doesn’t, but Maddie doesn’t goad him into it. She just walks over to her mat. She senses Sonic following her. When they reach it, Maddie taps her stereo to turn the music up. It fills the silence between them, giving Sonic an excuse to keep silent if he wants to. She knows he’ll talk over the music if he’s in the mood to.
Maddie tugs Sonic onto the mat by his shoulder. She smiles at him. Sonic returns the smile— weak but ultimately still there. Maddie’s expression brightens. Her eyes twinkle with competition. “Let’s see if you can beat the Pretzel Lady.”
Sonic chuckles under his breath. Maddie laughs quietly to herself. She begins showing Sonic a few yoga poses that are suitable for beginners. Pose by pose, Sonic’s demeanor brightens. He even starts verbally complaining about the positions. Maddie laughs at him, but there’s an undercurrent of relief in all her actions since she was able to help Sonic, if temporarily. They’ll have to talk more about what caused his stress this time later, but for now, she’s pleased he’s happier.
2.
Tom sits on the bench inside his canoe. He holds a fishing pole steady against the canoe’s rim in his hands. The water is a little choppy this early morning, but it isn’t able to dissuade Tom from being out here. The temperature also isn’t cold enough to send him running even if the wind isn’t helping and the rising sun isn’t doing him any favors. He isn’t going home until he’s caught a decently sized fish.
Tom glances to the side when he sees movement in his peripheral vision. Sonic stands from the opposite side of the canoe. He stares out across the water for a long moment with a worryingly blank expression. His eyes narrow at the same time his fingers clench into fists. Tom’s frown deepens. He knows he shouldn’t have brought Sonic along even if the hedgehog insisted on joining Tom on his fishing trip. Tom has no proof, but he’s starting to get the impression that Sonic doesn’t like water. Tom would even dare say Sonic’s developed a phobia of it, a byproduct of whatever encounter he had with Eggman and Knuckles when Sonic left him, Maddie, and Tails behind on a beach in Hawaii.
Tom struggled to refuse Sonic when the hedgehog seemed so eager to come. He realizes now that he should get a little more backbone. Tom sets the fishing rod on the floor of the canoe with the line still in the water. He shifts, ready to tell Sonic they can return to the shore. Tom stops when Sonic starts moving. He walks toward Tom. The human’s hands grab onto the rim of the canoe on either side as the vessel shakes. The water ripples around them. Tom is about to warn Sonic about rocking the boat too much when Sonic finally stops.
Walking, not moving. He sits on the bench neighboring Tom’s bench. He sits sideways, showing his side-profile to Tom. Sonic tips to the side. He crosses his arms over Tom’s lap. He sets his chin on his forearms. He sinks into Tom as best he can given the fact that he doesn’t want to fall in the crack between the benches. Once Sonic settles, he’s an immovable object. There is next to nothing Tom can do to pry him off. Well, there are a few ways, but Tom knows from experience that none of those methods will make Sonic happy. He only seeks comfort when his negative emotions are running high, and Tom knows now what Sonic does when he’s too stressed.
“Is this why you wanted to come?” Tom murmurs to himself. Sonic doesn’t answer him. Tom doesn’t think he will for a long time. Another quirk of Sonic’s depressive moods involves him going nonverbal. He might make some hedgehog noises, but he never uses human language.
Tom picks his fishing rod off the canoe’s floor. He holds it in one hand, balancing it on the canoe’s rim. His other hand moves to run through the fur on top of Sonic’s head. It is soft beneath his fingertips. There are a few knots, though. As Tom works his way through them, Sonic relaxes even more against his body. He tilts his head, lying it sideways on his forearms. He stares out at the fishing rod. Tom doesn’t know if he’s actually looking at that, but he lets Sonic do what he needs to do. While this is an unorthodox position that likely will hinder Tom’s ability to catch a large fish tonight, the human says nothing about it. Tom doesn’t need Sonic to fish right now. His son only needs to be comfortable. Tom is willing to sacrifice the main purpose of this trip to ensure that happens.
3.
Knuckles lies on his back in his bed with his arms at his sides. His eyes are closed. He’s close to falling asleep, but he’s generally a light sleeper. It is for this reason that he senses a presence approaching him from one side. Knuckles is willing to ignore it, but the presence touches his shoulder. Their touch is light and hesitant. The way Knuckles’ eyes open is neither light nor hesitant. His vision adjusts quickly. His violet irises scan the darkness around him immediately. He quickly finds that the presence is only his brother— Sonic.
The hedgehog stands beside the echidna’s bed. His blanket is wrapped around his shoulders. It nearly falls off as Sonic flinches back— obviously surprised by Knuckles’ violent reaction to being awakened by such a small gesture. Sonic reaches out to grab the edges of his blanket with both paws. He tightens the fabric around his shoulders, either to comfort himself or to keep it from falling. In all likelihood, both answers might simultaneously be true.
“Hedgehog. What is wrong? Is there danger?” Knuckles asks. He starts to lift himself onto his elbows. He searches the darkness once more. He doesn’t see anything in the room, only moonlight seeping in from the skylight. He doesn’t sense any electricity, either. His ears pick up on Tails’ quiet, slow breathing. The kit is asleep. Knuckles was almost asleep. Sonic should be asleep, or at least trying.
Sonic shakes his head. He rolls his shoulders, pulling the blanket even further around him. “No, no, nothing like that. I just— Well, I— Would it be alright if I…?”
Sonic gestures vaguely in front of him with his blanket-covered paw. Knuckles doesn’t understand what that means, but he notices the harshness threaded into Sonic’s expression. The hedgehog’s eyes avoid making contact with Knuckles. The echidna picks up on shame. There are others, but that one emotion is enough for Knuckles to have a rough idea of what has brought Sonic to his bedside this late at night.
Knuckles shifts to the side of the mattress. He nods his head at the free space beside him. “Rest, hedgehog.”
Sonic doesn’t need a better expression of permission. He drops onto the bed beside Knuckles. He curls his body into a tight ball. He cocoons himself in his blanket, pulling the edges beneath his chin. A shaky yet relieved exhale leaves Sonic’s body once his head settles on Knuckles’ pillow. The echidna lets him have it. Knuckles has slept in far worse conditions, after all, and Sonic clearly needs whatever comfort it can bring more than Knuckles needs it.
Sonic moves. He pushes the blanket off himself to show Knuckles his forearms. Knuckles stares at Sonic’s wrists. It reminds him of the time Tom brought Knuckles to work with him and Wade. The sheriff needed to escort a prisoner that day. There were a few times when the prisoner would show his wrists to get the cuffs put on him. The hand motion is eerily similar to Sonic’s movements now. Knuckles frowns at the connection his mind has drawn. He wonders if Sonic knows his arms look like that. He wonders if Sonic knows his expression is similar, too.
Knuckles turns onto his side. He grabs Sonic’s blanket. He wraps the fabric around Sonic despite the hedgehog’s visible confusion. Knuckles doesn’t stop until Sonic is tucked in tightly. Sonic allows this to happen. He frowns when Knuckles finishes. The echidna doesn’t explain himself. He wishes Sonic could go back to looking comfortable. His wish is halfway answered. Sonic doesn’t look completely fine, but there are remnants of him feeling better wrapped up in his blanket than with Knuckles holding his wrists.
“I’m sorry about this,” Sonic murmurs. A quiet laugh leaves him, bitter and self-loathing. “I must seem so weak right now.”
Knuckles frowns. He harshly taps the space between Sonic’s eyes with the back of his paw. The hedgehog winces, jerking away from Knuckles. His brows furrow together in confusion. Knuckles sternly says, “There is strength in asking for help and receiving it with honor. I have told you before that I am here and willing to stand with you. I am no liar. Do not forget my words again.”
Sonic opens his mouth— perhaps with an argument— but he’s silenced by a murmuring from the other side of the room. Sonic tenses, trying to remain as silent as possible in fear of waking Tails up. Knuckles also falls silent, but he remains in a relaxed position. Eventually, when Tails makes no other noise, Sonic untenses. Knuckles moves his paw over Sonic’s eyes. “It is time to sleep now, brother, not talk.”
Sonic huffs with a touch of amusement. Knuckles removes his paw. Sonic’s eyes are closed. He is not asleep, though, so Knuckles waits until he is before he closes his own eyes and slips into slumber. It is still light, though, so if Tails or Sonic need him, he will be there for them.
4.
Tails sits on the edge of his couch. His legs hang over the side, swinging back and forth in a similar rhythm to his tails. He holds a gaming controller in his lap. His fingers deftly push the buttons and maneuver the joysticks. In response, the character on the television follows Tails’ instructions regarding how to move. It is a new video game Maddie brought home. While she didn’t say it was for anyone specifically, they could all tell from the fact it was a puzzle-solving game instead of a fighting or racing game that Tails was going to enjoy it more than his brothers. And truly, he is enjoying it. The puzzles aren’t too easy or difficult. There’s genuine satisfaction every time he solves one.
He is also enjoying having the television all to himself. He truly loves his brothers, but their competitive spirits make it difficult for Tails to get his turn. Because of this, Tails frowns when he sees Sonic enter the room in his periphery. “I’m not giving up the TV. I’m on a roll right now, and I want to make some serious progress today!”
Sonic doesn’t respond. This causes Tails to frown for an entirely different reason. He pauses the video game, turning his baby blue eyes to his brother. Sonic approaches Tails. There’s a strange look on his face that gives Tails pause. Sonic’s eyes are fuzzy, and his movements are sluggish. Tails considers Sonic might be sleep-walking. He doesn’t think that’s the case, but it’s a possibility he needs to consider as Sonic stands right in front of Tails. The kit tilts his head back to meet Sonic’s unsteady gaze. He stops swinging his legs, and his tails fall flat against the cushion. Tails sets the gaming controller beside him. When his paws are free, he reaches to touch his brother’s paw. “Is something wrong, Sonic?”
“Um… no, of course not,” Sonic says. His voice is wispy. His eyes dart around and his brows narrow as he tries to concentrate. The fingers on the paw Tails isn’t holding rapidly open and close into fists at his side. Tails is reminded of the waiting room in the hospital a few weeks back. Sonic’s behavior was like this then. That behavior was reminiscent of another event around the same time when Sonic admitted to doing something ‘bad’ to himself. While Sonic didn’t elaborate, Tails isn’t an idiot. He might not have all the facts, but he has a rough idea of what Sonic could mean.
“Do you want to sit with me? You can help me with my game,” Tails offers. He knows Sonic won’t properly talk to him about what’s happening to him. Tails is either too young in Sonic’s head, or he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother. Tails suspects the latter is truer than the former, though he can’t say they’re both inaccurate to what Sonic is thinking. This unfortunately means that Tails is limited in what he can do for Sonic without upsetting the hedgehog further.
Sonic glances over his shoulder at the pause menu. He rolls his shoulders. He nods— first to himself, then to Tails. The kit’s face breaks out into a smile. Instead of sitting beside him, Sonic picks Tails up. Sonic sits down in Tails’ spot, setting the kit in his lap. At this point, Tails is no longer surprised. Sonic did this last time, too. Tails doesn’t mind. He would let this happen even if Sonic was doing it on a mere whim. Tails won’t admit it, but he likes being held, especially when Sonic sets his chin in the space between Tails’ ears like he’s doing now.
Tails grabs the controller. He presses play on the game. He has to remind himself of the puzzle he was doing prior to Sonic walking into the room. To do this, Tails talks aloud. Sonic hums in response each time. Tails doesn’t know how much attention Sonic is paying to each individual word, but he continues explaining what his thought process is for each puzzle as he works his way through the stages. Sonic rarely gives input, but he does it enough that Tails knows his brother is still there with him.
It’s nice. Tails wishes Sonic wasn’t here because he doesn’t want to hurt himself, but there’s nothing Tails can do about that. Sonic’s head must be in a different place when the urge comes to him. It is a place Tails will never be able to go to, not until Sonic formally tells him the truth. Tails can’t force Sonic to, though. All he can do is wait. All he can do is help in whatever little ways he can.
So, Tails lets himself be held, and he tells Sonic how he’s working through the puzzles, and his brother doesn’t hurt himself, and everything might not be fine but it’s close enough for them.
5.
Shadow sits at the desk pushed up against the wall beside his closet’s door. He has one foot in the seat with him. He props his elbow on it. He holds a book in his paws. The overhead light is off, but Shadow has a reading lamp on his desk that illuminates the room in enough light for him to comprehend the words printed onto the pages. The book is interesting enough for him to lose track of time. Shadow makes decent progress in his absorbed state.
He only pulls himself from the book when he hears a tapping noise. His ears flick to either side of him before he lifts his gaze. The sound doesn’t like it’s coming from wood, so it isn’t Stone or Amy at his door. By process of elimination, it is someone at his window. Shadow’s lips pull into a frown. There’s only one person who knocks on his window. Shadow turns to the glass, and he’s proven correct when he sees the blue edges of Sonic’s body leaning against the brick wall beside the window.
Shadow sets his book on his desk after slipping a marker to indicate what page he last read. When he makes it to the window, he realizes what color the sky is. Green Hills is a small enough town that it gets dark when night rolls around. Shadow looks at his alarm clock on the nightstand. It is a little past midnight. Shadow eyes the book over his shoulder. Was it really that interesting?
Shadow pushes the window open. Sonic half–sits on, half–stands beside the metal bars forming the fire escape. He glances from the night sky to Shadow. There’s a certain breathless quality to his voice as he quietly asks, “Do you want to race?”
“You want to race in the middle of the night,” Shadow says it more like a statement than a question. He is simply reminding Sonic of what exactly he’s asking as if the azure hedgehog has forgotten what color the sky is simply by glancing away from it for a few seconds.
Sonic shrugs his shoulders. He meets Shadow’s eyes. There’s an attempt to hide the emotions lingering in those emerald irises, but Shadow feels his entire body jerk back into the memory of seeing Sonic bleeding out in the hole in the ground Sonic once called home. Sonic gives Shadow a half-smile. “Yeah, well… I don’t think it’s ever too late to race. Do you want to or not, Shads?”
Shadow did make Sonic promise to come to him if he ever felt like hurting himself, so Shadow can’t be upset that Sonic is here. He can’t turn the azure hedgehog away either, though that’s more because of who Sonic is than because of the promise they share. Shadow shakes his head. He shouldn’t let Sonic have such sway over him. He thinks this, but he goes to put his air-shoes on and turn his desk’s lamp off. When the room is plunged into darkness, Shadow returns to the window. He climbs through, settling his soles on the fire escape. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I will beat you.”
“That’s the spirit,” Sonic says. He pushes off the railing to stand beside Shadow. He nudges their shoulders together. A twinkle has returned to his eyes, but it can’t distract Shadow from the way Sonic’s subtly trembling— especially the arms he hides behind his back. “But you’re still wrong. We both know I’m going to win.”
The confidence in his voice is juxtaposed by the shakiness in his body. Shadow huffs, half-amused and half-concerned. Shadow knows Sonic chooses not to comment on either. Shadow almost wants to force Sonic to, but the azure hedgehog sets his paw over the railing. He jumps over the side. As he’s hurtling toward the ground, chaos energy fizzles around his body. The street is suddenly lit up in bright blue. Sonic lands on the asphalt. He looks over his shoulder at Shadow. A single smirk is enough to hide the reason Sonic came knocking on Shadow’s window.
It isn’t enough to make Shadow forget, though.
Shadow’s chaos energy ripples through his body. He teleports into the spot beside Sonic on the street. When they are side by side, Sonic salutes Shadow. He runs forward, a mere blur to the people of Green Hills. Everyone except Shadow, obviously, whose eyes can track Sonic no matter how fast he goes (unfortunately, Shadow knows this skill goes both ways).
Shadow’s air-shoes activate. He is not willing to give Sonic the lead for long. He chases after that blue blur. He eventually reaches it, running alongside Sonic. The azure hedgehog smiles when he notices Shadow. Mostly, it is meant to be a smile showing competitiveness, but Shadow knows relief when he sees it. Shadow’s chest tightens. How much did Sonic need this? How close was he to biting himself before he got here?
Shadow could ask these questions, but simply thinking them has caused him to slow down. Sonic has pulled ahead. Shadow grits his teeth. He urges himself to return to Sonic’s side right as they break through the tree–line of the forest. They weave between the trees, hurtling through the woodlands. Blue and orange light falls across the plants for mere fractions of seconds. They are enough to stun the local wildlife, but they fade too quickly for any animal to get blinded.
Sonic leaps over a rock with a loud cheering noise. It echoes around them. Sonic pumps his arm in the air to root for himself. He continues leaping and cheering. Shadow rolls his eyes, but he’s more fond than annoyed at Sonic’s antics.
He would remain that way, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that Sonic suddenly disappears from his side. Shadow frowns. He decelerates until he’s at a complete stop. Shadow doesn’t know how he’s lost Sonic, but now is definitely not the time to do it. Thankfully, Shadow sees blue in the corner of his vision. It isn’t Sonic himself, but the glow of chaos energy left in his wake. Shadow follows it all the same as it brings him up the mountain.
Shadow finds Sonic at a standstill staring at the stars in the sky at the edge of a cliff. The drop isn’t steep enough for Shadow to be worried. Or, well, he shouldn’t be worried, but his gut sinks in the same way it did when he saw Sonic sitting listlessly in a puddle of blood. Shadow jerks forward, ready to grab Sonic. The azure hedgehog glances over his shoulder at Shadow. He waves his hand, motioning for Shadow to stop. He doesn’t know why he does, but Shadow freezes a few feet away from Sonic. The azure hedgehog returns his gaze to the stars. He braces his arms beside him and widens his stance. He leans his upper body backwards, angling himself toward the sky. A perplexed Shadow frowns. Sonic closes his eyes. He opens his mouth and—
Screams. Shadow winces. He reaches to cover his ears with his paws. It is loud and unexpected. Sonic continues for longer than anyone should. When he finishes, the sound continues echoing across the mountain range. Sonic returns to a standing position. He exhales heavily, and his entire body relaxes in the wake of the action. Sonic spins around to look at Shadow. “Your turn!”
“What are you talking about? What was that for?” Shadow demands, dropping his arms to his sides.
Sonic smiles at him, setting his paws on his hips. “I screamed. It’s supposed to make you feel better, and boy, does it. You gather all your emotions, and just…” He wings his arms wide toward the forest on the other side of the mountain. “...scream them away.”
“How foolish,” Shadow grits out.
Sonic chuckles. “Is it really foolish if it makes you feel better, hmm? Come on, give it a try.”
“I will be doing nothing of the sort.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it. Just one scream, Shads? Please? I promise I won’t ask again,” Sonic says, clasping his paws together. Shadow sighs. He shouldn’t let Sonic get his way. He shouldn’t give into something so ridiculous. He shouldn’t—
Shadow marches over to Sonic. The azure hedgehog’s face lights up. He steps away to give Shadow space. The ebony hedgehog glares at him with every backwards step Sonic takes. Sonic gives Shadow a thumbs-up when he stops. Shadow rolls his eyes, returning his gaze to the world in front of him. He sees the sky above him and the forest below him. He can hear Sonic’s breathing behind him and the wind all around him.
Shadow closes his eyes. He follows Sonic’s brief instructions. He doesn’t know how to gather his emotions, but he tries his best to put them all in one place. He takes a deep breath. Instead of exhaling, he releases a scream. It isn’t as loud as Sonic’s, but there’s decidedly something more guttural about Shadow’s scream. A similarity would be about how long the screams last.
When Shadow stops, he opens his eyes. He finally exhales. Sonic is at his side in an instant. He brushes their shoulders together. “Well? Do you feel better?”
Shadow inclines his head to the side. He doesn’t want to give Sonic an ego, but he doesn’t want to lie, either. He decides not to answer the question. “Did you bring me out just for this?”
Sonic laughs softly, somehow knowing Shadow’s answer. This makes Shadow frown. Sonic’s eyes crinkle despite no smile rising onto his lips. Unlike Shadow, he answers the question asked of him. “Yup. I needed to do some late-night yelling. I didn’t want to be alone. I assumed you’d be awake. I figured you’d come with me, too, after you made it clear that I should come to you if I ever felt… violent.”
Sonic says it like Shadow was worried Sonic would hurt other people. Shadow wants to correct him— remind him that he hurts himself— but Shadow’s voice doesn’t come. It only rises when he finds something else to say. “You should.”
“And I did! Aren’t you proud of me?”
Shadow’s eyes widen. There’s a layer of something beneath the goofiness in Sonic’s voice. It causes Shadow to nod. “I am.”
Sonic’s surprise momentarily knocks the silliness off his face, revealing the emotions Sonic doesn’t want to acknowledge. He composes himself by turning his head away. “Thanks for that. And for this.”
Sonic doesn’t elaborate on what he means, but Shadow doesn’t need the extra words. He doesn’t need to say any, either. He just pushes his shoulder into Sonic’s while the two of them stare at the stars. There’s no more running or screaming; Shadow still feels like they’re both releasing negative emotions just by standing here. Well, it’s more likely that it’s because of the fact they’re together than specifically where they are, but it’s all the same to Shadow.
+1.
The light pattering of someone knocking on her door coaxes Amy back into awareness. She takes a deep breath. Her head falls backward, landing against the wall. She turns to stare at the door. Her bedroom is dark. The hallway light is on. She can see someone standing outside her door. Their shadow likewise falls into her room. She reaches a paw forward to touch the wooden floorboards in front of her door. Her glove slides against the waxy material. She spreads blood across the surface, and it’s only then that she even realizes the blood belongs to her. It could only belong to her. She’s the only one here.
“Amy?” Correction: she isn’t the only one here. Sonic is on the other side of the door. Amy’s lips pull into a frown. She glances around her surroundings to make sure it is, in fact, her bedroom. It is. Sonic is at her house. Amy doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be here. Stone and Shadow are the only ones who should be here. Though, it isn’t like Amy would rather their presence. Frankly, she doesn’t want Sonic, Stone, or Shadow here. She doesn’t want to be alone, but she also doesn’t want anyone here.
Make up your mind, a voice tells her, and it isn’t the one she wants to listen to right now. She would rather listen to it than Sonic, though, as he asks once more, “Amy? Are you in there? Can I come in?”
Amy winces. His voice pains her more than her arm does, and her arm hurts right now. The doorknob starts fiddling. Out of habit, Amy shoves her foot against the door to keep it closed when Sonic tries opening it. Amy closes her eyes. She should have hid in her closet or under the bed. Closing the door only proves that she’s in here.
“What’s going on?” Sonic’s voice rises in pitch. He’s worried about her. He doesn’t even know what’s going on, and he’s already worried about her.
Amy takes a deep breath. She should tell him that she’s fine. She should tell him to go away. There are a lot of options, but instead of choosing something rational, Amy asks in a small voice, “Do you promise not to be mad?”
Sonic goes silent. Amy is nauseous with impatience. Thankfully, Sonic’s voice comes through. The door muffles it, but there’s an earnest quality to his voice that Amy has come to associate with him— come to find comfort in. “I promise.”
And he means it, too. Amy hasn’t given him any information, and he so easily agreed to her demands. This makes Amy feel so much worse. He’s too kind for his own good.
Amy stumbles onto her feet. She feels a little woozy, but she isn’t entirely sure what that’s from (the guilt, the shame, the pain, the bloodloss, whatever—). Amy grabs onto the doorknob with her clean hand. She twists and pulls. Amy lets go. The door naturally swings all the way open. The light from the hallway pours into her room. Sonic’s shadow keeps her in darkness. It keeps a portion of the blood in darkness, too, but there’s enough light for it to be noticeable. The drops still dripping from her arm glitter momentarily in the light, drawing attention to them.
Sonic takes in her appearance. He takes in the floorboards. Finally, he looks into her eyes. Amy almost wishes Sonic would get angry. She doesn’t like the easy understanding— the intimate knowing— in his expression. Sonic disappears for a moment. He returns within seconds with a first-aid kit in his paws. Amy doesn’t want to know how he knew where that was.
Sonic flips the lightswitch. Amy winces at the brightness. Sonic carefully steps over the puddle. He sits on the floor. He pats the space in front of him. Amy has been difficult enough, so she sits in front of him. Wordlessly, Amy sets her forearm in Sonic’s general vicinity. He takes it gently. With the skill of someone being raised by a veterinarian, Sonic begins cleaning the bite marks in Amy’s flesh. It hurts, but Amy doesn’t pull away. Sonic is helping her right now. He doesn’t deserve dealing with more work than necessary.
“I didn’t mean to,” Amy mutters. Sonic hums without answering. Amy bites the inside of her cheek. Without a response, she continues onward. “I wasn’t really paying attention. I just… I guess I just started doing it. I mean, obviously, I started doing it, but I wasn’t aware. I would have gone to you… or Shadow if I had known I would start.”
“That’s good. You should try remembering us next time. We’re always here for you, you know,” Sonic says.
“I know,” Amy agrees. She means it, too. They’ve both made it very clear, and she’s noticed. She wishes she went to one of them. She wishes she didn’t do it this time. She wishes she didn’t feel the need to do this in the first place. She wishes she were strong enough to resist the urge. She wishes she didn’t have to wish. She’s tired of bleeding out. She’s tired of doing this to herself. She’s tired of being weak. She’s—
“Hey, stay with me, Ames,” Sonic tells her. Amy snaps her eyes back to him. She doesn’t know what she was doing while losing herself to a train of thought, but Sonic stares right at her with a comforting half-smile. “There you are. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. It takes time to work through these things. You’ve built up this habit, and now, you have to build a new one to counteract it. There are times when you’ll relapse. It’s just the nature of healing. As my brother would say, sometimes, you lose a few battles, but that doesn’t mean you’re losing the war.”
Amy chuckles. She tries, too, anyway, but she thinks she just draws tears to her eyes. “Can the war even be won?”
This isn’t simply a habit, as Sonic called it. Self-harming is part of their instincts. It’s a fundamental part of who they are. They are hedgehogs, and they suffer everything that comes with that fact. Amy wouldn’t want to be anything different; she would want to change this part of herself, though. Amy wonders if that’s the coward’s way out. Would she mind being a coward that much?
(Yes, yes, she would. She would hate being a coward so much.)
“I think so,” Sonic says. He sounds confident as he starts wrapping her arm with a bandage. There’s a determination in his eyes that goes beyond doing a good job with her care. “We can’t stop our instincts. That’s not an option. But maybe we can trick them. We have the urge to self-mutilate when we’re stressed. We just need to find other outlets for our stress. Let our instincts compel us to do them instead of self-harm. And when that fails, we have support systems. You have me and Shadow. When you’re ready to tell him, I know Stone will be there for you. My family, too, is there for the both of us. We don’t have to do this alone. You’re not alone.”
Sonic finishes with a flourish. He leans forward to press their foreheads together. Amy isn’t able to look anywhere but his emerald eyes. All she can see is his conviction and care. “Do you understand?”
Amy inhales sharply. The tears flow across her cheeks, but she finds herself smiling. Sonic is right. She knows it will be difficult— both finding other outlets and going to her support system— but he’s right. It’s doable. It is because Amy isn’t alone. She was for a very long time, but she isn’t anymore. She has people to rely on. She has a family in Shadow and Stone to rely on, and she has friends in the Wachowski’s to rely on. She just needs to trust them. That, too, is going to be hard, but Amy wants to try. She wants to succeed. And if she fails, she wants to get back up again, dust herself off, and try once more.
“I understand.”
Sonic pulls away only after she’s confirmed it. He grabs onto the first-aid kit. He sets it on his hip beneath his arm. Sonic gestures toward the blood on the floor. “I’ll clean that up.”
“No, I’ll do it—” Sonic is gone before Amy can tell him. She sighs, but she can simply try arguing with him again when he returns. Sonic might be stubborn, but no more than she is. She’s going to at least help.
Amy turns her gaze down to her bandaged forearm while she waits. She runs her fingers along the bandages. A smile creeps onto her face. How could she ever think she was alone?