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The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the early morning sunlight streaming through partially drawn curtains.
Robotnik stirs awake first, his sharp mind always alert despite the rare calm of the morning. He blinks a few times, his vision adjusting to the warm light that floods the room.
He never thought he’d like it here. Stone’s apartment was small, cluttered with books and trinkets, unlike like the sleek, sterile spaces Robotnik once preferred. The couch was lumpy, the shower pressure was weak, and the kitchen was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. But now, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Beside him, Stone sleeps soundly, his arm draped lazily over Robotnik's waist. His face is serene, free of the usual mischief and charm that always linger in his smiles. Robotnik turns his head slightly, studying his lover’s face as he slept. His lips were slightly parted, and his chest rises and falls in an easy rhythm. He looked peaceful like this, free of the smirks and teasing remarks that usually laced his expressions. Robotnik would never admit it aloud, but he liked seeing him like this—unguarded, safe.
‘Beautiful, even in sleep,’ Robotnik thinks, though he’d never say it out loud. Instead, he allows himself the indulgence of tracing Stone’s features with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. He reached out, tracing the curve of Stone’s jaw. Then let his palm settle against Stone’s chest, feeling the soft rhythm of his heartbeat.
This, he thought, is what I should have fought harder to keep.
Stone stirs, letting out a soft groan as he shifts closer to Robotnik. His lips curling into a lazy smile before his eyes even opened. “Morning, genius,” Stone murmurs, “You’re watching me again.” his tone teasing as shifted closer to the doctor.
“Analysing,” Robotnik corrected, though there was no bite to his tone.
Stone chuckled and rolled closer, pressing his body against Robotnik’s. His lips found the scientist’s neck, trailing slow, lingering kisses from his jaw to just beneath his ear.
“You should be sleeping,” Robotnik muttered, though he made no effort to stop Stone from his actions.
Stone hummed against his skin. “Hard to, when I have something so tempting right next to me.” He nuzzled against Robotnik’s neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to his sensitive skin. Robotnik shivers slightly at the light touches of Stone’s lips but doesn’t push him away.
“You’re awake early too,” Stone teases between kisses. Robotnik scoffs, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Thinking about how this lumpy mattress is going to ruin my back.”
Stone laughs softly, his breath warm against Robotnik’s skin. “You love this lumpy mattress. Just like you love this lumpy apartment.”
Robotnik huffs, but his lips twitch into the faintest of smiles. Stone takes it as his rare victory, doubling down on his affectionate assault.
The kisses trailed lower, trailing to the back of Robotnik’s neck, where he knows the skin is most sensitive. Stone knew what he was doing—he always knew.
“Stay,” Stone murmured against his skin. “Just for a little while longer. No work. No experiments. Just us and now.” His hand slid up Robotnik’s chest, fingertips tracing light circles over his bare skin. Robotnik huffed but tilted his head slightly, allowing Stone better access.
“Fine, for a while, but don’t start something you can’t finish,” Robotnik warned, though it lacked any real conviction. Stone only grinned, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot at the base of his neck. “Oh, I always finish.”
Robotnik let out a breathless chuckle—until the sharp buzz of his phone cut through the moment.
Both men freeze. Stone groaned against his neck. “Ignore it.” He pressed his lips to the back of Robotnik’s neck, voice playful. “Whoever it is, they can wait.”
Another buzz. Robotnik exhaled, torn between obligation and the warmth of Stone’s mouth against his skin.
Then a third buzz. Robotnik hesitated. He almost wanted to listen.
Just let it ring. Stay here. Let the world burn.
Almost.
He sighed and reached for the damn phone.
Stone pulled away with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto his back. “I swear, if it’s not the president, I’m gonna be so mad.”
“Agreed” Robotnik replies, before he answers the call. His tone shifts instantly into one of businesslike efficiency, all traces of the love and tender moment he was sharing with Stone, erased.
Stone watches him for a moment, his playful expression fading. He leans back into the pillows, his gaze lingering on Robotnik’s profile. “You’ll regret it,” he murmurs under his breath, too quiet for Robotnik to hear.
I do regret it.
He should have stayed in bed. He should have buried his face in Stone’s chest and let the day waste away in sleepy kisses and soft laughter.
I wished I never answered. I wished I was asleep with you by my side.
Because that was the day his world ended.
Robotnik woke with a sharp inhale, his neck aching from the awkward angle he'd slept in. His chair creaked as he shifted, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Not again”
He blinked, disoriented for a moment, his shoulders were stiff, but he ignored the discomfort as he sat upright, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.
For a moment, he expected to feel warm sheets beneath him, the familiar weight of an arm draped over his waist. Instead, the bright, cold, fluorescent lights of the underground lab greeted him, a reminder of where he was—where he’d been for far too long. His fingers twitched at the absence of warmth. Slowly, he sat up. His glasses had slid down his nose while he slept, and he pushed them back up with a tired and heavy sigh.
The silence in the lab was oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of machinery and computers. Robotnik rubbed his eyes, his movements sluggish, and glanced at the clock on the wall. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep—again.
Robotnik stood up, stretching out the stiffness in his muscles, his lab coat wrinkled and stained, and began crossing the room.
His underground lab was a far cry from the sleek, pristine government laboratories of the past. It was built for survival, not aesthetics—a cold, industrial cavern hidden beneath layers of reinforced steel and concrete. The only illumination came from the dim glow of overhead fluorescent lights and the pulsating screens of monitors lining the walls, displaying streams of data, security feeds, and bio-readings.
The air was thick with the scent of metal, disinfectant, and something acrider—the lingering remnants of burnt circuits and failed experiments. Robotnik carefully steps over the network of cables and wires snaked along the floor, some patched together with crude repairs. The hum of machinery was ever-present, from the whir of air filtration systems to the occasional mechanical clatter of automated arms in the background, performing routine maintenance on equipment long past its prime. Tables and countertops were littered with various blueprints, half-empty mugs, and glass vials filled with pasty, murky substances—trial samples of a cure that had yet to yield results or have failed entirely.
His path led him to the walk-in freezer on the other side of the laboratory. Stopping at the door, he punched in the code, the lock clicking open with a hiss of chilled air. The steel handle was cold against his palm as he pulled it open, a gust of icy air brushing against his face.
Inside was an array of vacuum-sealed bags, labelled test tubes with mixtures being cooled and containers of failed serums and samples. He quickly made his way to a drawer, pulling it open and pull out one of the plastics wrapped frozen meats.
The flesh was pale and frostbitten. And a human arm. Robotnik took hold of it without hesitation, the weight was familiar in his grip.
Clutching the frozen limb, Robotnik stepped away from the freezer, the door sealing shut with a quiet hiss behind him. His grip on the limb tightened as he made his way toward the containment room, his footsteps echoing sharply through the cold lab.
As he reached the reinforced glass wall, he came to a stop. The containment room beyond the glass was barren, stripped of anything unnecessary—just cold, smooth concrete and harsh lighting, a space designed not for comfort, but for security and holding.
And there, standing unsteadily and pale, was Stone.
Or what was left of him.
Robotnik’s heart twisting painfully in his chest as he looked through the glass wall to his once lively lover.
His skin, once warm and glowing, was now an unnatural shade, veins darkened beneath the surface. His once vibrant brown eyes now clouded with a milky sheen. His body swayed slightly, as if he were fighting an unseen force just to stay upright. His hands twitched at his sides, his fingers curling and uncurling in uneven spasms.
He looked like a puppet with its strings tangled, but every so often, Robotnik was able to see a flicker of something—something human—beneath the undead surface.
But this time, there was no recognition. No teasing remarks. No soft laughter. No smile. There hasn’t for some time.
Robotnik stepped closer, placing his free hand against the glass. Stone’s head jerked in his direction, his gaze locking onto him with a sharpness that made his breath hitch. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the cold barrier between them more suffocating than ever.
“Dinner time, darling.” Robotnik’s announced, his voice was hoarse, laced with exhaustion.
He slid open the small compartment in the glass wall and placed the frozen arm inside. The door sealed with a hiss, and Stone lunged forward the moment it was within reach, sinking his teeth into the flesh with feral desperation.
Robotnik watched, a lump forming in his throat.
Once upon a time, Stone was the one to cook for them. Always ensuring Robotnik was fed enough for the day, always up before him, humming some ridiculous tune as he worked in their cramped kitchen. The smell of coffee, eggs, and something sizzling in the pan would fill the air. Robotnik would steal a bite from Stone’s plate, then chuckling when he got scolded for it. That felt like a lifetime ago.
Now, he watched as Stone was fed like an animal. No humming. No morning ritual.
Robotnik lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged on the cold metal floor, watching as Stone fed on the frozen arm.
The frozen arm had already begun to thaw in Stone’s grip, blood smearing across his fingers as he tore into the flesh with unthinking brutality. His teeth sank deep, tendons snapping, raw meat being chewed through with eerie efficiency. There was no savouring, no taste—only hunger.
This was the only way Robotnik could take care of him. In ensuring Stone was kept close to alive as he could.
There was no joy in watching Stone eat now, only the gut-wrenching weight of what had been lost. Robotnik had told himself this was just a means to an end. A temporary horror.
Robotnik exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his tangled mess of hair. His mind drifted back to that day—the day it all fell apart.
Starting with that damned call.
He wished he had ignored it. Stayed in bed with Stone.
But he didn’t. Duty and curiosity being his downfall.
The call had been urgent—reports of a strange occurrence in a remote town—Green Hills.
Robotnik had scoffed at the town’s name but was intrigued by the reports. Reports of something unnatural, something fearful, something wrong
It was the kind of anomaly Robotnik was specialised to investigate. And Stone, ever loyal, ever steady, had gone with him, just like he always did.
They arrived in the dead of night, the streets eerily empty. No one seen or heard.
Their investigation led them to a small house on the edge of town. He and Stone had entered the house, to then be hit with a thick stench of rot. Inside, a woman’s decaying corpse lay sprawled on the living room floor, cold and motionless. Her skin pallid, veins gone dark and her lips blackened
Robotnik had crouched beside her, pulling out his equipment and changing his tech gloves for latex gloves, ready to perform a tissue analysis. Stone stood by, keeping a sharp eye and ears on their surroundings, as he always did.
Nothing unusual, at first.
Stone had wandered off to investigate the rest of the house, whilst Robotnik stayed to continue his test. His back turned from the corpse. His mistake.
The body twitched.
Her eyes then snapped open, bloodshot and empty of any humanity. Before Robotnik could react, she lunged—fast, too fast. It was on him—rotting hands grasping for his throat, the scent of decay choking the air between them. Her teeth snapped, inches from his face,
Robotnik recoiled, struggling against the inhuman strength holding him down. His mind screamed at him to move, to fight, to do something, but his limbs felt slow.
Then, a blur of movement. “Get off him!”
Stone came barrelling back into the room just in time to slam into the undead predator, wrenching it off Robotnik with sheer force, her grip on him torn free. The creature was thrown back, stumbling—but not for long.
It twisted unnaturally, snapping its head toward Stone with a guttural snarl. She pivoted and lunged at Stone, the two crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, Stone grunted as the impact knocked the breath from his lungs and as the weight of her decaying body pinned him down.
He struggled, one hand shoving at her chest while the other fumbled for the gun holstered inside his coat. “Come on, come on,” Stone gritted through his teeth, his fingers barley brushing the weapon’s grip. But he wasn’t fast enough. The strength and unpredicted movements of the corpse was making it difficult to draw his weapon.
Then, it became too late.
Teeth tore into Stone’s shoulder. The corpse clamping down with savage force.
The scream that tore from Stone was pure agony. His painful scream tore through the room, raw and agonized, as blood bloomed from the wound, staining the fabric of Stone’s coat in deep crimson. The zombie’s jaws ground deeper, the sickening crunch of flesh and muscle filling the room. Stone thrashed beneath the creature, his free hand clawing at its matted, rotting hair, trying to wrench it away.
Robotnik, still reeling from his own attack, felt his body heavy, his muscles sluggish and unresponsive. His breaths came short and ragged as he forced himself to move. Every nerve in his body screamed for rest, but his mind was louder—Stone was in danger. Stone needed him.
Gritting his teeth, Robotnik reached for the tech gloves left on the floor. His vision blurred from the effort, his fingers fumbling over the controls as he typed in the badnik summoning command. One wrong tap and it would all be over.
A badnik came floating into the room, its single glowing eye locking onto the scene instantly. The machine instantly recognised the threat and shot out a sharp, red beam. The woman’s head jerked violently as the laser hit its mark, a thin plume of smoke rising from the back of her skull. Her body went limp, collapsing onto Stone, unmoving and lifeless once more.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by Stone’s ragged breaths and the faint hum of the badnik powering down. He shoved the corpse off him with a shaky arm, his own body trembling as he pushed himself halfway upright.
“Stone!” Robotnik dropped to his knees, his hands were trembling, heart pounding as he looked down at his partner. Stone’s face was pale, his teeth clenched against the pain as his hand pressed futilely against the bleeding wound on his shoulder. It was deep, ragged, already darkening at the edges.
“No,” Robotnik whispered, horrified.
Stone’s breathing was shallow, but his lips curled into a faint, pained smile. “I’m fine,” Stone managed, though his voice was weak, his usual confidence shaken. “At least I… got her off you…” he rasped. Robotnik shook his head, his mind racing. There wasn’t time for reassurances. There wasn’t time for anything.
A virus was already spreading within Stone
After that night, Stone was ripped away from him. He was kept in a government facility—a sterile, cold prison—where scientists, lesser minds, poked and prodded, their gloved hands pressing into Stone’s bare skin as if he were nothing more than a specimen.
Robotnik wasn’t allowed in. Forced to spend every moment outside the lab, watching. Helpless. His fists clenched at his sides as they injected unknown substances into Stone’s bloodstream. He watched as they whispered among themselves, their pens scratching against clipboards, as if writing down his suffering in neat little reports.
Robotnik had seen enough experiments in his life to know when they were stalling. They didn’t expect to save him. They just wanted to watch.
Days blurred into nights, the only constants were the ache in Robotnik’s chest and the sight of Stone growing weaker. His veins darkened, spreading an inky blackness beneath his skin, creeping like fractures on a delicate glass. His breathing had slowed. His body wasn’t his anymore.
When he was finally allowed inside, he almost wished he hadn’t been.
Stone was worse.
He laid on a hospital cot, sheets crumpled over his too-still form. His skin, once warm and rich with colour, was dull and paling. His veins, darkened like ink stains beneath the surface, spread up his neck and disappeared beneath his shirt. His breaths were shallow, uneven. The usual warmth in his eyes was fading, clouded over with a sickly haze.
He stepped forward, slow, hesitant. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do.
“Stone?” Robotnik whispered, his voice hoarse, as he slowly crossed the room.
Stone’s head shifted slightly, brows furrowing. “Ivo? Where are you?” Stone rasped; voice weaker than Robotnik had ever heard. His unseeing eyes shifting, desperate. His fingers twitched again, his hand reached out blindly in front of him, trembling, trying to find Robotnik.
Robotnik was at his side in an instant, taking hold of Stone’s hand and carefully guiding it to his own face. Stone’s palm was cold.
“I’m here,” Robotnik murmured, pressing the hand, cold hand against his cheek. Stone’s fingers brushed over his jaw, his fingers ghosting over Robotnik’s face—his stubble, the ridge of his cheekbone, then tracing over the dampness of tears tracks Robotnik hadn't realized were there.
Stone exhaled shakily. “They said it’s bad.” His lips trembled slightly as he spoke. “I can barely feel my legs and… I’m scared, Ivo”
That broke Robotnik.
The walls Robotnik had built, the control he prided himself on, shattered like fragile glass. Tears stormed from his eyes, hot and unrelenting. His breath hitched as he clutched Stone’s hand tighter, desperate to keep him grounded—to keep him here. With him.
“I’m sorry, Stone.” His voice cracked under the weight of it. “I’m sorry. If only I didn’t have my back turned. If I had been faster. Stronger. If it had bitten your arm, I— I could have just amputated it. You’d lose a limb, but at least—at least you’d still be fine. You’d still be…”
With me.
In my life.
By my side.
“Shhh, Ivo,” Stone soothed, his weakened fingers brushing against Robotnik’s wet cheek, wiping away the evidence of his grief. His touch was unsteady, but still so damn gentle. “I don’t regret what I did.” His lips curled into the ghost of a smile. “Because if it was you here instead, I’d be thinking the same thing. Wishing it was me instead.”
Robotnik clenched his jaw, trying—failing—to hold himself together. “I wish it was me,” he whispered, voice breaking.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to Stone’s cold forehead, his fingers tightening around Stone’s hand like a silent vow.
Stone closed his eyes. And Robotnik had held onto him.
Four days. Four agonizing, excruciating days for Stone’s humanity to disappear.
The change wasn’t sudden—it crept in like a shadow, darkening the edges of who he was until all that remained was the virus. Robotnik saw it happen in real-time, day by day, hour by hour.
First, it was him going blind and the colour of his eyes dying. Then the trembling, shivering body that couldn’t seem to hold itself upright. The day after he and Stone talked, it was the third day and Stone could barely speak anymore, his words slurred and broken
And on the fourth day, he stopped speaking altogether. Stone’s body still moved, but it wasn’t Stone anymore. The man who had smiled at him, teased him, kissed him every morning was gone. Replaced by something else.
Then the government made their decision about Stone.
Extermination.
But before the order could be carried out, Robotnik acted. The facility’s security was advanced—but he was better. Hacking the mainframe had been child’s play. Disabling the alarms? Easier. Overriding the power grid and sealing the guards behind reinforced doors? Almost insulting.
He tore through that place like a raging god.
When the alarms blared and guards stormed into the containment unit, Robotnik was already there. His badniks swept through like a steel tide, neutralizing anyone who got too close or in his way.
He found Stone, barely aware of his surroundings. Stone had growled at him, low and animalistic, head jerking toward the sound of his entrance. His movements were jerky, almost puppet-like, as he staggered toward Robotnik.
For a moment, Robotnik froze. This wasn’t Stone. This wasn’t him anymore.
But then the zombie hesitated, swaying as if confused. It sniffed the air, head tilting slightly, and stopped.
Even in this state, something inside Stone recognized him.
And that was all Robotnik needed.
“Come on, love,” Robotnik muttered under his breath as he guided Stone out of the building, badniks clearing their path. “We’re going to a new home. Where we’ll be safe.”
That’s when brought him to his underground laboratory, his sanctuary, his domain. Where they have since reside for the last three years.
Three years of isolation in his underground laboratory. Three years of researching, testing, and experimenting. Three years of chasing a cure for a virus no one believed could be reversed.
But he never stopped. Never gave up.
Robotnik blinked away the ghosts of the past and returned to the present, exhaling a slow, weary breath.
The containment room was silent, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights. Through the glass, Stone stood unsteadily, his head slightly tilted, milky eyes locked onto Robotnik.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Stone took a step forward, slow and jerky, his movements unnatural but deliberate. He stopped just in front of the glass, staring at Robotnik with something—something—that made the doctor’s throat tighten.
Robotnik got up from his seat, stepping forward until he was mere inches from the glass wall separating them. He then pressed a hand against the glass. Stone mirrored the movement, his decayed fingers resting against the barrier, just barely aligning with Robotnik’s.
“I know you’re still in there, Stone.” His voice was quieter now, the sharp arrogance he once carried stripped away, leaving only exhaustion and desperate hope. “You’re still fighting.”
Stone remained silent, unmoving. His Stone’s breath fogged the glass as he swayed, but he was listening.
"I'm sorry it's taking so long, love," he murmured, his forehead falling against the glass. He closed his eyes, swallowing down the emotion threatening to break free. "I will free you. I promise. Just... please stay with me till then."
For a long moment, there was nothing. Just silence.
Then— sound, soft and hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“P-please, I-Iv-Ivo.”
Robotnik’s breath caught in his throat. The voice was weak, broken, like shattered glass being pieced back together. Stone’s voice.
“I-it… hurts.”
Robotnik’s whole body tensed. His vision blurred. His hands curled into fists. He closed his eyes, pressing harder against the glass, willing himself not to break.
He could end this.
It would be so easy. One command, one action, one moment of mercy, and Stone wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.
But Robotnik refused to let go. He wouldn’t let go.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I’m not ready."
He stepped back, straightening his coat, composing himself. Then he turned on his heel and walked away—toward the lab table, toward his research, toward the only chance Stone had left.
Because somewhere in that lifeless body, Stone was still there. And Robotnik would bring him back.
No matter what it took.