Work Text:
After six years of working alongside Dr Robotnik, Stone had been convinced that he was used to deadlines. They were stressful, yes, and they both always ended up losing sleep. But in the end, they were manageable. Their current deadline, however, was something out of a nightmare. Timeline changes, corrections and redesigns. Scraping and additional requirements. Their current client was a plane heading down for a crash landing, and Robotnik and Stone were strapped in it against their will. They had asked for an extension, for some breathing room. But the client had doubled down on their demands. Cutting the deadline down by an extra two days. Robotnik now had one week exactly to finalise the designs, build a prototype and test it to ensure it had no major or minor malfunctions.
The stress was beginning to show. The deep bags beneath Robotnik’s eyes had grown worse, he’d lost weight and worst of all, he was snappy. Stone was used to Robotnik’s temper. In fact, he’d come to love it. But the problem with this was the fact that Stone was also stressed. He may not show it as much as his partner, but this deadline was beginning to chip away at him too. As the days passed, he began to focus on what Robotnik needed, how to help the doctor hold himself together as he was worked down to the bone, and it had gotten to a point where his vision had tunnelled in on Robotnik alone. Meaning he forgot to take care of himself. Stone was running on just under four hours of sleep, an ungodly amount of coffee and a few bites of food here and there. But that didn’t matter to him. Because if there was one thing he truly remembered from his years as an agent. It was that he didn’t matter.
He was expendable. Stone knew how G.U.N. treated their agents, he’d seen the horrific ways his peers had died because their agency couldn’t be bothered to pull together a rescue mission. Even with all his fingers and toes, he couldn’t count the number of times he’d been sent on a suicide mission only to drag himself back without anyone's help. It was his job to ensure that everything ran smoothly. That the doctor didn’t blow up himself or the facility. And that the deadline was met. So, what if Stone forgot to take his meds? he could push through it. He’d dealt with his mind long before he met the doctor. And he could deal without the extra help for the last stretch of this project.
For the first three days, Stone was alright. On the fourth, his hands began to shake, and he could feel the paranoia begin to creep into his mind. On the fifth, he had to suppress a flinch when Robotnik turned around to call him an idiot. On the sixth, he almost pinned the doctor against the floor when he caught him by surprise. On the seventh, he disassociated so hard that he didn’t remember when Robotnik had gotten the project done. One moment he was entering the lab, and the next he was in his bed about to fall asleep. He had told himself he would take his meds in the morning.
When he woke up, Stone knew it was going to be a bad day. His breathing already felt shallow, and his paranoia had only grown worse. Stone could feel it prickling under his skin, keeping him on edge. He was far too aware of the shadows around him. The edges of his vision that could be hiding an enemy if he turned at just the right moment. Getting out of bed was a struggle, but he knew Robotnik would need him today. Now that the project was done, the lab would need to be cleaned and organised in preparation for whatever project came next. His body felt heavy and sluggish. And he’d only had the chance to get dressed due to how long it took him to move around his room. That was fine, he could survive one more day without his meds. He couldn’t risk taking them on an empty stomach, he knew Robotnik would be displeased if he threw up in the lab.
And so, he dragged himself to work. He didn’t remember the motorcycle ride or entering the lab, but he was jolted back to reality by the familiar snappy tone of the doctor.
“Good, you’re here. I’m going to need my latte early today, Stone. Looks like our indecisive moron of a client isn’t satisfied with what I sent him.”
“Right away, doctor.” He croaked out, shaking his head to try and fight away the distance he was feeling from his body.
There was a dull ringing in the back of his mind as he grabbed a mug from one of the shelves. The simple task of making the doctor’s latte feeling much more exhausting than it should. He shuffled about the small kitchen, grabbing what he needed before leaning forward in front of the machine. His body was fighting against him. The small tremors that had greeted him this morning were only growing worse. Stone could feel his breathing turning uneven. The training that had been instilled in him was yelling at him that he wasn’t safe. That they were coming for him. He shook his head, trying to fight back, ground himself somehow. But he knew it was too late. He was spiralling and he had no way out. The ringing in his ears had turned into a thunderous noise, and he hunched over the side. Eyes closing tight as he clenched his teeth. Willing his body to relax so he could get on with the task of making the doctor’s latte. And then a hand touched his shoulder.
His body burst into action without his permission, his elbow swinging back into the jaw of whoever had dared to touch him. He could hear their footsteps thud back against the lab floor as they were forced away from him. Stone barely registered the stinging of his joint as he stumbled away from the counter. Back slamming against the wall behind him, his knees buckling under the wave of adrenaline that was flowing through him. The cool metal allowing for a smooth glide to the ground. His hands shook as he reached into his holster, drawing out his gun. A sharp curse filled the air, and then an agonising pain grazed against his hands, forcing him to let go. He could barely hear his gun clatter against the ground beneath the pounding of his heart. Some distant part of him knew he was hurt, it screamed at him to run. To flee.
He had been trained to survive, yet here he was, collapsed on the floor like some sort of fainting goat. Stone’s body was frozen on the spot, and he could feel the presence of someone nearby. But his vision was closing in, tunnelling into nothing. The ringing now thundered in his ears, and he swore he felt the rumble of a whine in his throat as he leaned into the wall behind him. Everything was too much, he was everywhere and nowhere. Mind unable to figure out what was present and what was past.
“-ne!”
What once was a familiar environment had twisted into an endless void that clawed at him. Begging to drag him further, to twist him until he broke. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see. He wasn’t safe, and yet his body wouldn’t. Fucking. Respond. A gasp slipped out this time. Shaky and pathetic, he cringed internally at the sounds he was making. Stone knew he could be better, he wasn’t allowed to break. He was one of G.U.N.’s top agents. This was beneath him.
“Stone!” A voice cut into the dark. Commanding in its tone, he felt compelled to turn towards it.
But he couldn’t. His body was not his own, and his mind had warped into a prison. Each shaky breath, each aching twitch of a muscle was made completely against his will. He was far too aware of his body. Of the danger he was in, sitting on the floor with no way to protect himself. His breathing began to pick up, getting to a point where he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing at all. Was he imagining it? The small, insignificant blips of oxygen he was allowing himself.
“Stone! Aban, breathe. You need to breathe or else you’re going to pass out.”
The voice drifted back in. Did he know them? It was such a familiar sound and yet he couldn’t quite place it. Tone just too on the edge of panicked for his mind to recognise. He shook his head, trying to communicate the fact that he couldn’t.
“You can, you just need to focus on this.”
The sharp tap of metal against metal filled the air. Repetitive and consistent. Tap, tap, tap. Evenly spaced out by a second. A counter for him to give his devoted attention to. He was compelled to obey. To listen and follow. Stone felt each shuddering gasp that slipped past his lips and willed himself to slow down. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. Focusing only on his breathing. In 1 2 3 4 out 1 2 3 4. A simple pattern that had been drilled into him when he had first been diagnosed. In 1 2 3 4 out 1 2 3 4. Minutes passed, and his body began to calm. But Stone could feel it, beneath his skin. The part of him that always had to watch, observe. Because if he didn’t, then he had no worth.
“Are you back with me, Stone?”
His eyes snapped back open, vision taking a moment to focus on the figure in front of him. As the room shifted from vague shapes into actual detail, he was met with a familiar calculating gaze.
“Doctor.” He wheezed.
“Welcome back to the real world, Agent.”
His eyes flickered over the man in front of him. The doctor had one knee pulled up to his chest while the other was curled on the floor. Tilting inwards so the sole of his boot rested against his other ankle. With one hand, he continued tapping. The thin metal of the command glove clinking softly with each repetitious drum. His other hand rested atop his knee. Twitching occasionally as if the doctor was stopping himself from reaching out. But what drew Stone’s attention the most was the dark bruise that lined the doctor’s lower jaw. It had already begun to turn a deep purple. Stone’s hand reached out without permission. Stopping just a few millimetres short of touching Robotnik.
“Doctor I-“ His breath caught in his throat as guilt clogged up his veins.
The coolness of Robotnik’s skin always surprised him, no matter how much he touched the other. His fingers traced against the bruise blooming on the doctor’s jaw, and he felt his stomach sink. He’d hurt Robotnik. Stone could feel the doctor’s gaze on him as he examined the injury. Watching his reaction, his guilt. Was he enjoying it? The pain on Stone’s face at the fact that he had failed his job. He was supposed to protect Robotnik, and yet here he was. Staring at the proof that he had broken, buckled under pressure that he’d been trained to withstand. He had shown a flaw, a fault. Proven once again that he was human. How many more mistakes could he make before Robotnik grew tired of him? How many ways was he allowed to stumble before he lost the one good thing he had in his life?
A tear trickled free from his eye, dripping down onto the flow with a quiet tap. Another crawled to follow, but it was stopped but the soft caress of leather. Robotnik was touching him. His gaze flickered up, and he felt as if his breath was punched out of him. The doctor looked concerned. Brow furrowed, mouth a small frown. He was worried about him. With this realization, Stone felt the last piece of composure he had snap as the stress of the past week crashed down upon him. He was exhausted. The doctor was there to catch him as he slumped forward. A painful sob ripped through him as he leaned into the body in front of him. Each aching cry tore through him with a force that left him crumbling down. For the past week, he had been spiralling and finally he had crash landed on the ground.
A hand caressed softly through his hair, and Stone melted as he noticed one important thing. Robotnik had taken off his glove. He felt well-manicured nails scratch at his scalp as another sob pooled out of his mouth. His grip tightened, pulling him closer. Letting him bury himself further into Robotnik’s neck. Tears dripped down his face, soaking into the doctor’s coat, but he couldn’t move. The doctor’s free arm held tightly around his shoulders, holding Stone in place. He should have felt panicked. After all, he was trapped, the doctor practically pinning him up against his body with how tightly he was holding him. But instead, he felt safe. No longer did the prickling sensation of observation tickle at the back of his mind. Here in the arms of his doctor, all he needed to do was give in. Let Robotnik take what he wanted. The affection was so foreign to him, and yet it was so simple to receive. His sobs soon trickled down into soft sniffles, yet Robotnik’s grip did not loosen. If anything, it tightened.
“Aban, are you alright?”
“I’m sorry.” That’s what he’d been trying to say earlier, right? The warmth of another person against him had left his brain in a somewhat dazed state.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Robotnik’s grip on his hair tightened. Slim fingers pulling at his hairline until it began to sting. A whimper slipped from his throat. His body relaxed minutely under the attention. Stone’s body leaned closer without his permission. Meaning he was practically sitting in Robotnik’s lap at this point. His exhaustion was beginning to creep back up on him, and Stone already knew he was fighting a losing battle as he tried to keep the conversation going. The hand on his hair shifted, gripping onto his head properly so that they could look each other in the eye. Stone was sure he looked a mess. Tears streaked down his face, eyes drooped in muted pleasure. But clearly Robotnik disagreed. His eyes roaming over Stone’s face with an interest he normally reserved for his machines.
“I would ask you again, but it’s clear you're not in any state to talk right now, Agent.”
“Hmmm.” He tilted his head back into the hand.
Some distant part of his mind pointed out how unprofessional he was being, but he really didn’t care. Robotnik was holding him, lathering him in an affection he didn’t know possible. The fingers began to scratch at his scalp again. And a shudder rippled through his body. His eyes fluttering shut. He’d always imagined the feeling of Robotnik’s fingers on his body. Admittedly, his thoughts had never drifted to something as domestic as this, but he knew now that he hadn’t even been close to knowing how good it would feel. He could find his mind drifting, dragging him under to the sweet embrace of sleep. Stone’s muscles were relaxing one by one, and his body leaned closer. To the point it felt like he and Robotnik were merging together.
The pair jumped a shrill ringing filled the room. Robotnik scowled, removing a hand from Stone's back so he could pull up a small hologram screen. Stone could feel the muscles shifting beneath him as the doctor entered a command before typing something into the command glove.
“Fucking government officials, can’t wait one hour for an answer,” Robotnik grumbled under his breath.
This jolted Stone back, his exhaustion being put on hold in an instant. Even if his mind protested as the sudden desire to stay awake. He was interrupting the doctor’s work. Stone moved to stand. His legs were shaking beneath him, but he managed to rise a few inches. But that was as far as he could get before Robotnik was dragging him down. He was twisted around, landing back in Robotnik’s lap. His back flush with the Doctor’s chest. A set of arms wrapped possessively around his stomach. Holding him in place and a voice drifted into his ear.
“Did I tell you to move?”
“No, sir.”
“Then don’t. I’m sure even you can follow that simple order.”
He could feel the heat blooming on his cheeks as he tried his best not to react to the position he was in. Before this, he could pass it off. After all, the doctor was comforting him (Even if that was an unusual event in itself). But now he had no excuses. Robotnik was holding onto him because he wanted to. The doctor’s chin was resting on his shoulder, eyes flickering over the latest angry message he had sent. And Stone was just supposed to act normally about this? It didn’t take long for the doctor to notice the new tension in his agent’s muscles. He felt the doctor sigh against his neck. It was the only warning he had before Robotnik began to lean them both back. Not by much, but enough for him to relax his head back without straining his muscles.
“Go to sleep already, Aban. I expect you to be in top condition by tomorrow.”
A smile slipped onto his face without permission as he leaned back into the body behind him.
“Love you too, Doc.”
The body behind him froze, but Stone just nuzzled back. Eyes drifting closed as sleep quickly laid claim to his mind.