Work Text:
Stone slipped through the night silently. He knew the route to his destination like the back of his hand, park at the gas station down the road, take two lefts, then a right, and sneak in the back door of the apartment building with a stolen key.
Stone stood inside the foyer for a minute as he surveyed the scene. Everyone in the room was on edge, Robotnik hadn’t gotten home from his walk around the block yet. They were waiting, worried for an outburst, but not enough to leave the room. Robotnik’s moods were unpredictable, but Stone knew he tended to keep to himself if he left in a goodish mood, like today. The other residents would be fine, for today.
Stone knew the doctor’s schedule at work flawlessly and had even gotten almost praised for it once, but what Robotnik didn’t know was that he also knew his schedule outside of work flawlessly (not that there was much time allotted to it).
Stone slipped up there stairs as the other residents worried when Robotnik would return. The agent knew it would be 9:52pm, based on how fast the doctor walked, the traffic of the area, and the route he always took.
As Stone took the stairs up to the fourth floor (the elevator had a camera) he began to think back to the first night he had stalked Robotnik home after a long shift. The doctor had seemed more tired than usual and Stone had wanted to make sure he got home ok.
Under the cover of darkness, Stone had tailed Robotnik’s car. When it had pulled onto a street with an apartment building and parked, Stone knew this was where he lived. They spent 90% of their lives together already, Robotnik didn’t have a secret life. Stone should really get overtime pay for the extra eight or so hours he spent at the lab every day plus when he showed up on weekends that he was not supposed to work.
Stone pulled around the block and parked on the other end. Luckily, Robotnik was still in the lobby when he snuck in through the sliding glass front doors.
Robotnik had been shouting at a woman who looked clearly pissed off at whatever he had said to her. Stone watched as he stomped off to the elevator, noting that he punched the button for floor four.
Speaking of floor four, in the present, Stone had reached the right floor via the stairs. He gently creaked open the metal door that led out of the stairwell and into the hallway. He silently walked down the hallway to the correct door undetected.
Number 14 stood inconspicuous, but the dislike the neighbors had for Robotnik was clear. They had worn a path in the rug from walking as far away from the door as possible. Stone quietly laughed and typed in Robotnik’s passcode (he had learned it on a previous stalking endeavor) before slowly slipping inside the dark apartment.
For most people this would be the hard part because of all the badnik designed to keep people out. The bots couldn’t be bribed with meat like guard dogs and they could kill anyone in seconds, if they wanted to.
Luckily for Stone, they didn’t want to.
The first badnik bumped into his head with a happy trill as the five other guards all came over to say hi. They continuously beeped happy songs as they circled Stone and bumped into him as they welcomed him.
Robotnik cycled the badnik guards out so that some days the badniks would guard his house and some days they would be at the lab. He did this because they seemed to get too attached to his assistant and just wanted to follow him around instead of doing what they were told.
Stone gave them all pets, pats, and praise until his watch signaled that Robotnik would be back in five minutes. Shooing them off so that they would resume their positions in case of an (different) intruder, Stone slipped into the sparse kitchen. He stood for a second as he looked around at barren shelves aside from a couple packets and boxes of instant foods. One glance into the fridge cemented the idea that he was going to buy his boss some groceries and sneak those in next time. Stone sighed at the sad display before opening the black side satchel he was carrying and pulling out a brown paper back which he gently set on the table. Stone quietly walked back to the front door and double checked that no one was there before slipping back into the hall. Locking the door, he checked the time, 9:51. He was safely back in the stairwell when he heard the elevator chime, announcing Robotnik’s arrival.
The agent risked a look as he glanced through the glass window on the door to see Robotnik walk to his apartment. His cost was slung over one shoulder, his hair was messy and falling in his face, and he looked more tired than when Stone had left work that evening.
Sighing, Stone headed down the stairwell again. He really wished Robotnik would take better care of himself.
The first time Stone had stalked the doctor home, his apartment had been a mess and there had been barely any food in the house. When he had slipped in through the front door, the badnik guards had seemed distressed. Not because Stone was here, but because Robotnik had passed out on the floor in the kitchen. When the agent saw him, he rushed to make sure he was ok. When Stone discovered he had passed out from exhaustion, the agent had scooped him up and carried him to what looked like a barely used bedroom. The couch had more blankets stacked on it than the bed, indicating that was where Robotnik slept most nights.
Stone furrowed his brow, before placing Robotnik on the bed. The agent removed his shoes and coat, before tucking the doctor into the soft blankets. The agent then slipped out of the apartment. He would be back the next night and the next, to carefully pick up the mess bit by bit and make sure his boss got to bed.
Eventually, one time when he broke in, he saw that he had actually beaten Robotnik home. He heard Robotnik open the door so he had to hide in the living room behind the couch so as to not alert his boss that there was a presence in his home. He could hear the doctor murmuring to his girls as he attempted to walk to the kitchen before there was a loud sigh. Stone crept closer to find Robotnik leaning against the table, his knuckles were white and his face was pale. Slowly tipping backward, Robotnik began to fall. Stone moved quicker than his descent, wrapping his arms around the already unconscious man and pulling him close.
Robotnik tried to fight sleep, he even brought a hand up to grip at Stone’s suit jacket. Stone had just lifted him up and carried him off to bed again.
This time, Robotnik mumbled, “Stone?” after he had been tucked in. The agent froze, but the doctor was not actually awake enough to know that he had really been there.
That was the night Stone had decided to start bringing the doctor dinner after hours. It was so clear he was starving when he got to work in the morning, even if he tried to play it off.
A message pinged on Stone’s phone, “Thank you.” The agent smiled, making sure not to reply.
After the first time he had left a brown paper bag on Robotnik’s kitchen table, Stone had walked into work to find Robotnik waiting for him, legs crossed, finger’s steepled. “Stone, I need your consent to body modifications.”
“Of course, sir, I consent.”
“Aaand do you consent to having a tracker implanted in your left shoulder blade?”
“Of course, sir, I consent.”
Dinner was never acknowledged, but they both knew. Stone never said a word in fear Robotnik would tell him to stop, and Robotnik never said anything in fear that the agent would realize he knew and stop.
This went on for months until Robotnik caved and texted Stone, “thank you. (Don’t reply.)”
So Stone hadn’t. Now sprinkled throughout their conversations about work, there were messages that just read thank you. Always at 10:00pm sharp.
The agent waited by the doctor’s car for a minute watching the light in Robotnik’s apartment. It stayed on until 10:22, before clicking off. That was the sign Stone was waiting for as he turned and walked out of the parking lot. He headed back to the gas station and slipped into his car, starting the engine and heading for home.