Chapter Text
A lot happened in the seemingly short amount of time he was gone. Time seemed to become warped for most of us.Knuckles didn't participate in group activities much anymore, always around his master emerald though he seemed to hide for even that when the anniversary came around. Rouge secluded herself as well. She said that her ‘nagging moral compass' was gone and she could finally ‘be free’ but I heard her sobs from the other room. Amy didn't move on, she couldn't. She instead dedicated her life to making sure everyone knew he was a hero and continuing on his legacy. Tails took it the hardest he shut himself up for years but when he was finally able to come out, he looked different. Nothing like the small child that tagged along in battle and bested Eggman in tech. He looked more mature, his humor and innocence seemed to burn up. He was a shell, but he pushed through it. Said he wasn't going to let his death define their relationship.
And me?
Despite all the experience I should have with loss…
Losing him, might have just drawn me insane.
He was being reckless and cocky like he always was. His sparkling azure quills meshed together to create a blur, like your eyes hadn't fully fixed themselves to focus on him. Watching him speed past the plants lining our impromptu racetrack reminded me of the fact we were racing. Kicking my feet into motion they floated just a bit above the ground allowing me to skate past as he got distracted by the nature surrounding us. This pushed me into first place, and I couldn’t help but smirk back at him as I approached the tree we set as the goal. Just as I made it to the finish line, he made one last attempt to get in front of me, pushing past his limits and jumping right past the tree. He held a celebratory expression as he glanced back at me, he didn’t even notice the badnik rolling out from behind the tree.
Its body built for battle held its head high and its weapons higher. The drills it called hands extended ready to tear apart years of friendships. Sonic couldn’t even meet the eyes of his murderer as he plunged himself into the arms of death, after all he always preferred action to slowing down and thinking.
…
He was gone.
Just like that.
No goodbyes. No big battle. No dramatics.
One moment he's there! And the next he wasn't.
My voice was hoarse, and my throat burned as I realized I was speaking, no screaming his name. My cheeks were moist as tears rolled past them to water the place that had taken the world from me. I sat clutching his form as it dripped that awful color, red had once looked good on him but now no longer. I could not force myself to gaze upon him when I heard the unnatural creak behind us. I turned allowing him to lay down and rest on the forest floor. I met with the mechanical gaze that was waiting for me, had it even realized what it’s done? Surely it hadn’t because if it did it would have known not to turn away and leave its back vulnerable. The shrieking from the metal was suddenly heard and just as suddenly silenced, being torn in half it could no longer escape from the scene of the crime. its sharp metal cut into my reddened glove showcasing my dark fur underneath. I could always get new gloves, but these are the ones we met in. The ones he forgave me in.
I felt this day engrave itself onto my heart next to the day that happened over fifty years ago. I was forced to watch as another one of my friends, my reason to continue was stripped away from me. They had lost their lives but so did I.
The days after that were a blur. I don't recall his funeral, or comforting Tails, or the week that all of mobius mourned. I do remember the flowers, red. That was his favorite color, wasn’t it? I remember his eternally slumbering face. It wasn't the cocky grin he had flashed me as he sped off to his demise. This one looked like a man who had forgotten his duty and abandoned us, it had looked like someone else. I could picture him in my head, colored blue but loving the opposite. his figure that always looked like it was about to leave. His stubborn act and his competitive nature.
But then I didn’t need to imagine it any longer.
It was a month after he left me, us. I absentmindedly fixed my quills only to be met with a coarse, rough feeling. my quills easily broke and shattered to my touch and running a hand through them brought more knots to my attention than I’d care to admit. My eyes ached at the cool air of the forest, puffy from… the rain. My feet were heavy against the forest floor as I found myself wandering towards the tree. the one I had last seen him with. I had gone near the area multiple times after he had left. But it still took me a month to get anywhere near the tree. And I don't know if I truly went insane, but he was standing there, waiting for me. His foot tapping in impatience as he glances around the area. He seemed to light up when our eyes met. His face was nothing like the one he slept in just a couple of miles away from here. His familiar blue pelt, his bright red shoes, his eyes dyed the color of emeralds. The only difference was the fact that his wounds, the ones to take him from us, were there. There were several small scars littering his body but the ones that were the most prevalent, his mortal ones, were odd. They were not the ones I remembered. They were black. Closed but just barely. And they would weep a navy blue occasionally. I watched him brush the liquid from his face just before they crossed the boundary line into his eyes. After the recognition came and went from his face, he came bounding towards me. His smirk the same one he gave me the day he had left, the one engraved into my heart.
“Where were you faker? Couldn't put up with me beating you? You've made me wait over a month!”
I staggered away from him, from his eagerness, from the entire impossibility that he's here right now, because he's not. I know that. But he didn't question my hesitation, hardly even register it. He just skipped closer and put his arm around me. It felt real, I could feel the warmth, the weight. I looked to him not allowing the emotions that had overtaken me all this time to come out on full display.
“You're dead.”
I said it simply, more matter of fact than I had expect my voice to sound. He, on the other hand, just tilted his head, his green eyes practically glowing as the navy liquid pranced down his head, darkening his features. And yet he let a dumb grin overtake his face, forcing his eyes into a crescent. It was a beautiful motion, fluid, alive, but there was no way it was him.
“I know!”
My brain lagged, I could hardly conceal the confusion from bubbling up onto my face. He looked at me, his eyes unblinking, not an inch of him out of place, like he truly wasn't surprised. What is going on right now? My mouth moved to speak and question him, but I could hardly force the “How..?” out of my throat. The effort to speak growing in difficulty the more time I spent in his presence
“We never really concluded our race, faker!”
He let go of my shoulder and while I practically mourned the loss of the verification that he was here, he stepped in front of me and shot finger guns at me.
“So, shads, I'm here to challenge you to a race!”
“A… race? Sonic you've been pronounced dead FOR OVER A MONTH!”
My vision blurred and his form turned into the familiar shaky figure that I last saw on that day. I grit my teeth and force the tears away from my eyes, I need to focus right now. My voice rises unintentionally but I need to get my point across.
“I— WE watched your body get buried. We all sobbed listening and reminiscing over old stories! Have you visited anybody else yet?! Amy? Knuckles? Tails?!”
I was getting desperate for an answer but at the same time I don't think I wanted to hear it. He wasn't listening to me, no he was. He just wasn't hearing me. Watching his casual indifference left me speechless. His smirk was gone but it wasn't replaced with a guilty look, or a sad one, just disinterest. His sheer calmness in the matter challenged my rant enough to leave me grasping for words that wouldn't exit my jaw. And he took that chance to completely disregard any of my concerns and plow through to what he wanted.
“So, is that a yes? Because I'm ready to beat you whenever!”
I felt another wave of confusion hit me with his absurd persistent answer. My nails broke through the cloth hiding my hands, it had been stitched together and bleached until it was at least a pale pink. In the end I was unable to give it up. The contrast between the two emotions raging in me left me reeling. The longing for him against the anger I currently felt conflicting my course of action. I wanted to hit him, kick him more specifically. But I restrained myself from smashing some sense into him. He had only been dead for a month after all. But when I began to talk again, I felt the words as they snowballed into an aggressive screaming fit.
“Do you know that your brother– YES, YOUR BROTHER– HE HASN'T LEFT HIS LAB? HE HASN'T LEFT HIS LAB IN A MONTH AND HE'S NOT EVEN WORKING ON ANYTHING! HE– “
“Enough about other people! Is that a yes or no? And it better not be a no.”
He looked irritated like I'm the one being unreasonable here. Like I'm being dramatic and that this was annoying to even think about. And he didn't try to hide it either. He dragged out his sentences and said it like he always did when he found things annoying.
But I know Sonic. I've been around him for years and the Sonic I knew wouldn't find his brother, or his well-being annoying for anything. I took a step back, feeling him out.
“You… you truly don't care. Do you?”
He rolled his eyes and flicked away some of the navy liquid pouring out of the black scar that had bloomed onto his forehead from that day. I locked onto his cold gaze as he repeated like a broken record.
“Is that a yes or no? And it better not be a no.”
The end of his sentence felt pointed, cold, like he genuinely wouldn't take no for an answer. My feet took off before I even registered his subtly veiled threat. I wasn't running towards him, I was running away. It has been awhile since I last worried for my life but I knew something about this wasn't right. I didn't look back, but I could hear him screaming,
“Is that a yes?! Does this count as an okay?!”
He sounded chipper as he yelled his voice carrying a playful tone, like the cat that would eventually capture the rat. But I'm no rat. I'm a damn hedgehog. I pushed off the ground faster than ever, utilizing my air shoes to the extreme.
“My house! The finish line is my house!”
I could still hear him, but he sounded farther… was he lagging behind? I barely noticed him plotting the goal. Not that it mattered. I was going there anyway.