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Chapter Text

What’s an assistant to do after his world ends? 

The Crab is gone, lost to the Thames. He has nothing of the Doctor’s left, just a single badnik he managed to recover before GUN swooped in. He puts it in a cat carrier he buys from a pet shop and walks to the nearest cheap motel. He rents a room for the week. 

The room is small. Bleak. That’s alright. It doesn’t matter. He releases the badnik and it floats around the room, scanning the lamp and TV and the chair. 

Stone toes off his shoes and shrugs out of damp clothes. He drapes them on the radiator to dry and then curls up naked in the bed, buries himself in blankets. 

Go ahead , he thinks to himself, you can cry now. 

There’s only a terrible numbness spreading through him. He stares listlessly at white sheets because if he closes his eyes for too long he’ll see the Doctor’s face. 

Time passes. It doesn’t matter. He sleeps. He wakes. He leaves the motel to eat and it tastes like ash in his mouth. 

What use is this world, he thinks as rain patters against the window. It should have been me. I should have been there. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about anything. 

Time passes. He rents the room for another week. 

Apathetic. Depressed. Numb. A hundred words for something Stone has rarely felt in his life. He had drive before. Always work to be done, another task to be completed, a goal in mind. Now what does he have?

Nothing. Nothing. Just a badnik and the clothes on his back, a dwindling bank account. 

The Doctor was everything to him. Somewhere down the line Stone forgot how to be by himself. And he’s just, what? Supposed to go on somehow? Alone? 

No thank you. He’ll just wait here. Wait for what, he doesn’t know. The Doctor’s not coming back this time. Why does it matter? Nothing matters. 

He sleeps as much as he can. Sleep, at least, is a break from reality. He’s a stranger in his own skin. This isn’t him. This isn’t Stone. Get up. Get up and go back to living your life. 

He goes to sleep curled around the badnik instead, the metal a comforting weight against his chest. 

I miss you, he thinks out to an uncaring universe. I miss you, come back, I miss you. 

He rents the room for another week. 

He rents the room for another week.

Another week.

Another week.

Another.

Week.

Robotnik spends three months in mushroom hell before he’s finally able to lie well enough to convince Shadow to bring him back to Earth. The little shit saved him from the explosion, sure, but then dumps him on a far away planet with no technology and treats him like he’s his own personal therapist. Sonic this, Sonic that, blah blah blah. Robotnik is sick of it! He needs to get back to world domination or else he’s going to rip his own mustache out. 

The first thing he does when he gets back to London is bully teens at a Starbucks to let him charge his very dead phone. Then he tracks down Stone. If the man got on a plane and went back to America without him he’s going to kill him. 

Except he didn’t. He’s not even that far away. What has his- eugh, his friend been up to? 

Robotnik finds him at a shitty motel. He comes to a stop in front of room 202. Raps his knuckles against the door. 

Silence. 

Robotnik rolls his eyes and starts banging on it. Continues until it’s swung open and Stone is standing there, staring at him wide eyed. 

Stone has always been put together. This Stone is decidedly not . His short beard, always trimmed and tidy, has grown out into something more shaggy. So has his hair, a few inches longer than it normally is and pushed out of his face. He’s wearing a rumpled black dress shirt and slacks. It’s the most dressed down Robotnik’s ever seen him. 

Before he can comment- even if he has no leg to stand on when it comes to letting himself go- a badnik zooms out of the apartment, over Stone’s head, and starts beeping and trilling as it circles Robotnik, nudging him pointedly.

“Oh, hello there, baby! Someone’s missed papa,” he croons, giving her a pet. She does a barrel roll before floating back over to Stone, stopping in front of his chest and beeping. Stone wraps his arms around her like she’s a small dog and not a high tech killing machine. 

“You’re real,” Stone says faintly. 

“Of course I’m real! What did you think I was, a ghost? A hallucination? An extremely handsome look alike?” 

Stone’s mouth twitches up. He looks down at the badnik and shrugs. 

“Let me in, Stone. I’m sure you have questions, but I’d kill for a shower and some real food after being stranded for months.” 

Stone obediently moves aside and Robotnik enters a crummy motel room. One bed with sheets bunched together, a TV that’s off, a cuck chair in the corner of the room. The walls are cracked and bare. Stone must be between apartments because this? Is just sad. 

“I’ll need another set of clothes, Stone, I want to burn these. And food, I’m starving.” He orders. 

“Any preferences, Doctor?” Just like old times. Why did Robotnik think it would be any different? 

“Whatever’s fastest and quickest. Chop, chop, my sy-” he cuts himself off, mouth closing. “Science… friend.” He finishes lamely. 

Stone doesn’t react to that at all, just nods and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Strange. Robotnik opens the bathroom door and gazes longingly at the shower. Hot water… a luxury he hasn’t had for months…

No! He has something more important to do first: snoop around before Stone gets back. 

He starts with the dresser by the bed. Nothing. The small closet? Nada. Drawers under the TV? Zilch. He stops searching, stumped. Where were Stone’s belongings? His luggage? His laptop? 

Robotnik lays down on the floor to check under the bed. Zip. Very odd… He gets up. Pats down the blankets, just in case. Looks under the pillows. 

The only possessions Stone has in here is a pet carrier and a badnik. Is this some sort of… sex meet up place? This can’t be where Stone’s actually living. He goes back into the bathroom again. There’s a toothbrush and toothpaste near the sink, and another one still in its double packaging. That one Robotnik rips open and uses to brush his teeth, feeling slightly less gross afterwards. 

He turns and looks at the shower next. Only shitty motel shampoo, body wash and a block of soap. Conclusion: this is not where Stone lives. He must be meeting someone else here, for sexual intercourse or otherwise. He’ll interrogate the man about it later.

Robotnik shuts the bathroom door and strips out of his disgusting, grimy clothes. He turns the water to hot and waits until steam starts to fill the room to step in. It feels amazing , and he uses the soap to scrub himself clean, blackened water flowing into the drain. He also pours shampoo in his hand and runs it through his short hair- it’s grown almost two inches during his time off planet and he can’t wait for Stone to shave it off again. His mustache gets the same treatment, and needs to be trimmed before he can finally feel back to his old self.

Fully clean, he enjoys the hot spray of water running down his body, closing his eyes and just breathing. He’s pruny by the time he hears the faint sound of the door opening- the walls are paper thin, of course. Stone must be back. 

Robotnik reluctantly turns off the water, takes a towel and dries himself off. He opens the door a crack and sticks his arm out. Clothes are placed on him and he pulls it back. Stone got him black sweats, a grey shirt and a large red hoodie. Similar to what he would wear back in the Crab. 

He puts them on. They’re incredibly soft, and he’s squeaky clean. Everything’s great, so why is he apprehensive about talking with Stone? 

They fought (you ignored his warnings), Robotnik hung up on him ( fired him), and then dedicated his final broadcast to his friend (you left him behind, again). What’s so bad about that? Nothing, that’s what. Not even worth apologizing about. Stone understands. 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door. Stone is sitting on the bed, holding a takeout bag from Shake Shack and hunched in on himself. He looks up, sad brown eyes meeting Robotnik’s. 

What’s wrong, Stone, is on the tip of his tongue, but he just holds out a hand. The bag is passed over. 

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, and reluctantly takes a seat in the cuck chair. He opens the bag, inside is his usual burger order and fries. Stone didn’t get anything for himself, must not be hungry. 

Robotnik wolfs down the burger, its deliciousness heightened by his mushroom only diet. He eats it so fast he can feel his stomach protest, so he takes his time on the fries. 

“So, Stone.” The man jerks his gaze away from the blank TV screen. “Where are you actually living, because I know it’s not here.”

Stone gives him a considering look, furrowing his eyebrows. Robotnik huffs. 

“You don’t have to actually tell me what you use this place for, pervert, but I’d like to take stock of our current resources. And use a laptop. My cell phone service has been cancelled. Also, wifi password?” 

Stone blinks. Slowly pulls out a wallet from his back pocket, fishes out a piece of paper and hands it over. Robotnik wipes the grease from the fries on his pant leg and inputs the string of numbers and letters into his phone. 

“Doctor, I’m… sorry,” Stone says stiffly. Robotnik looks up, confused. 

“What for, Stone?” 

“I haven’t been productive since your- since the explosion. I don’t have a laptop, I sold my phone, and I only have enough food and rent money for another month. I’m living here.” He says plainly, like that makes any sense at all. 

“What? What did you plan on doing after next month?” 

Stone stays quiet, looks away. 

“Stone?” 

“I’m tired, Doctor. Let’s talk more later.” And with that, Stone slides off his shoes and curls up in the middle of the bed, tugging the blankets over him. A few seconds later, the badnik flies over and pushes itself under the covers. 

Robotnik looks at the time. 7:10pm. He doesn’t know what to think.

Stone stares at white sheets. The Doctor is back. The Doctor is back. 

Why doesn’t that fill him with the same sense of joy? Why isn’t he jumping around, shouting his name, preparing a coffee?

Why isn’t he… happy? 

He’s just existing. There’s Stone and there’s the world rushing around him. 

Isn’t the numbness supposed to be gone? His purpose is back. The Doctor is back. It’s a miracle that he’s alive. Stone should be grateful- is grateful, he is. He’s just not sure why he isn’t feeling it. 

It’s going to happen again , something whispers in the back of his mind, he’ll leave you again. He’ll die again. You’ll always end up here. Don’t get up. Don’t even try. 

Stone blinks away tears, a familiar feeling by now. He buries his face in his pillow, traces the shell of the badnik. He’ll be better when he wakes up. Everything will make sense in the morning. 

He has to believe that. 

Robotnik spends the evening catching up on what he’s missed- not much, just the world sliding into more shit and annoying new tiktok trends. A slew of articles published about him, an equal mix of in favor and against. The world knows the name of Doctor Ivo Robotnik, but he intends to take it further. ‘I saved the world so I can rule it’ has a nice ring to it. Much better than the sentimental bullcrap he said instead, when he was sure he was going to die. 

He practically screamed ‘I love my assistant Agent Stone’ to seven million people and the one person who didn’t seem to get it was the man himself. What a waste of a romantic gesture. Death bed confessions are bullshit, La Última Pasión lied to him.

Because he definitely hadn’t spent the last three months imagining a heartfelt, tender reunion where they throw themselves into each other's arms and maybe, maybe even kiss. His jack off sessions took the scene way farther than it would realistically go, but hey, a man can dream. 

Maybe he was wrong, and all the signals over the years he ignored that Stone was attracted to him were misplaced like he feared. Maybe he really is unattractive to all genders. Stone is devoted, Stone is loyal, Stone cares about him, he knows that to be true. Hell, he even knows Stone is gay, at least according to his internet history. If Stone had feelings for him, wouldn’t his return from the grave finally kick him into action? Especially after the confession?

Except… he did call him his friend. Some people may even call that a ‘friendzone.’ But Stone would understand the weight of such a word! Ivo Robotnik does not have friends! Except one. Even after fifteen years of strict boss/assistant roles with a little bit of homoerotic grabbing. Okay, maybe a lot. But Stone never complained! 

Ugh. Gross. He’s going to have to have a… talk with Stone, isn’t he. And actually- yuck!- talk about feelings . Can’t he just kiss the man? No, no. The youth were all about consent these days, and he can’t risk being cancelled for the wrong reasons. And he doesn’t want another misunderstanding. 

What would he even say? Stone. I have feelings of romantic and sexual nature for you. Kiss me, you fool. 

Awkward. No. 

Stone. I don’t want to be your boss anymore. I want to be your boyfriend.

Juvenile. Next. 

Stone. Your beautiful eyes and superb coffee making skills have captured my heart and soul. 

What is this, a poetry competition? 

Robotnik looks over to the Stone shaped lump on the bed and sighs. Why is this so difficult? Why can’t Stone just know? 

He should pass him a note. Do you like me? Yes or No. 

This whole situation is strange. Surreal, even. Stone barely reacted to his return, all shock and no awe. The motel room, devoid of personal belongings. Not even a question of ‘where have you been?’ or ‘how are you alive?’ 

It warrants investigation. Interrogation, even. Tomorrow. He stands up, stretches, and takes a pillow off of the bed. Lies down on the carpeted floor. It’s no mushroom patch but it’ll do. 

He’ll figure out everything tomorrow. 

Chapter Text

Robotnik wakes up and immediately knows he’s not on the mushroom planet. It smells like AC, not earth, and his head is on a pillow. The carpeted floor is unyielding, unlike a mushroom patch. He opens his eyes. 

And sees Stone staring down at him from the bed. Frowning. Robotnik sticks his tongue out at him. Stone blinks slowly and ducks out of sight. 

Hmm. That does not bode well. Usually acting childish towards him would get a surprised smile out of the other man. What’s going on with Stone? 

He pushes himself off the floor, body creaking and protesting. Stone is bundled back under the blankets, a white lump in the middle of the bed. The red light of his badnik glows dimly through the covers. 

Robotnik pulls out his phone. It’s 8:42am. He takes a seat on the cuck chair and unlocks his phone. They need money. He needs to acquire it somehow, at least enough for two plane tickets back to the states. They have one operational safe house in California that should last them indefinitely, with enough supplies to build a new Crab if they wanted to. 

And isn’t that strange, being a ‘they’ instead of a ‘he.’ Robotnik knows he isn’t going anywhere without Stone. He’s gone (dead) for three months and the man turns to a minimalist lifestyle to cope. 

Well. To start, he should have a few hundred left in his Huevo Diablo account. He opens twitch on his phone and goes to his payouts. 

Only to do a major double take. 

$6,542.94?! That can’t be right. He looks at the most recent donations. $20- thanks for saving our asses! $10- LOVE U BITCH WILL MISS UR STREAMS. $50- bet ur not even dead lol. 

Oh, right. His final livestream. Idiots donated to a dead man. Well, their loss, his and Stone’s gain. He cashes out and starts looking at plane tickets. 

Stone wakes up again. The Doctor is alive. There’s so much to do, and he’s so tired . He wants to stay in bed with the badnik. Maybe a few more hours of sleep will fix him…

No, best to start the day. He’s surprised the Doctor hasn’t insisted he get up yet. It’s only a matter of time, really. 

Get up, he thinks to himself, get up. His body doesn’t move. He sighs. 

“Stone?” Doctor Robotnik whispers. It’s enough to push him into action. He sits up, the blankets falling off of him. The badnik flies out from under the sheets and beeps, spinning around him before floating up to the ceiling. He looks over at the Doctor. 

His heart hurts. I missed you, Stone wants to say, I love you. He just stares instead. The Doctor’s gaze lingers on him.

“Good news, Stone. I have more than enough money to get us to California. We can leave tonight. You in?” 

Huh. Usually that would be an order, not a question. His eyes drift up to the ceiling. 

“What about the badnik?” 

“What about her?” 

Stone frowns. “It can’t go with us on a public plane. And would never pass Customs if we used the mail.” He looks back down at the Doctor, who’s thinking. Drumming his fingers on the armrest. 

“I don’t know,” he admits, “We’ll probably need to leave her here, Stone. If not disable her completely-” 

Stone feels like he’s on the edge of a cliff. He gets out of the bed and stands up. Walks over to the bathroom. 

“Stone?” 

He shuts the door and turns on the shower. He sits on the floor, his back against the door, and puts his head in his hands. 

Cry , he tells himself, I know you want to . The sadness stays in his chest instead.

He doesn’t want to leave the badnik behind. He doesn’t want the Doctor to kill it. He takes a deep breath. Get a hold of yourself. It’s just a badnik. 

But it’s not just a badnik. Badniks don’t beep at him when he dissociates and stares at the wall for too long. Badniks don’t let him curl around them to sleep. Badniks don’t try to trip him while he’s walking to the bathroom and lets out a trill when he reluctantly laughs. Badniks don’t do loop de loops to distract him when he’s crying. Badniks don’t turn off the TV when a certain someone appears on the news and it feels like he’s losing him all over again. 

He shouldn’t have to keep losing people. Things. Whatever. He brings his knees to his chest and leans his forehead against them. Maybe he’d feel better doing this in the shower. No, taking off his clothes takes too much effort. He’ll just stay here for a little while… 

The Doctor watches the bathroom door close, perplexed. The badnik floats after Stone, pressing itself against the door like a dog waiting for its owner. 

“So, you’re the one that stole Stone’s heart,” he says, and is that jealousy in his voice? Jealous of one of his own creations? Ridiculous! Stone just showed more emotion over Robotnik having to disable her than seeing Robotnik himself return from the dead. 

Okay, maybe he is a little jealous. And concerned. Stone’s always appreciated his babies, who wouldn’t? But never grew attached to them like this. 

Maybe he was lonely too despite being on a planet full of people. Maybe it’s like Robotnik with rock Stone. Either way, now he needs to figure out a way to smuggle a high tech drone through airport security. He’s not disabling her after Stone looked all sad and hurt like Robotnik just kicked his emotional support puppy. Which, in a way, maybe he did. 

He needs tools. He needs an idea. He- ugh- needs to go to a hardware store like a common pleb. 

Well, he can’t go anywhere without Stone. He settles in to wait, searching for the closest hardware stores on his phone. 

Stone realizes he’s been staring at the bathroom wall for too long when he hears a loud beep from the badnik on the other side of the door. He still feels brittle, but no longer on the verge of falling to pieces. He cannot cry in front of the Doctor. The very idea of it fills him with shame. 

Instead he gets up, dunks his head under the warm shower water, and then uses a towel to dry himself. He turns the shower off and takes the time to brush his teeth. The mirror is covered in steam, and once he’s done he wipes at it with the towel. 

His reflection stares back at him. Stone tries to smile, but it just looks… wrong. Strained. He returns his face back to neutral and that looks fine. 

He feels wrung out. Tired still, as usual. The Doctor is alive, he reminds himself, you should be grateful. Happy. Not whatever this is. 

Stone tears his gaze away from the mirror and leaves the bathroom. The badnik is waiting for him, pressing itself against his chest like it does whenever he’s gone for too long. Stone wraps his arms around it automatically and looks to the corner of the room. Doctor Robotnik is staring at him with a raised eyebrow. Stone reluctantly lets go of the badnik, who zooms off, and walks over to sit on the bed. 

Doctor Robotnik keeps looking at him. Stone meets his eyes, feeling… nothing. The Doctor breaks their staring contest first, looking down at his phone. 

“We’re going to a hardware store first. I need tools if I’m going to figure out how to get the badnik through security.” 

Stone furrows his brow. “That’s not possible-”

“Bababa! Leave that to me to figure out, mon meilleur ami. Who is the supergenius between us?” 

“You are, sir.” 

“Exactly.” The Doctor pauses. “And don’t call me sir, Stone. I’m not your boss anymore. We are friends. Partners in crime. You may call me Doctor or Ivo.” 

Oh. That’s nice. Ivo, he thinks as he watches the Doctor tap furiously on his phone. Hello, Ivo. 

The other man shuts off his phone and stands up. Stone follows. 

“I’d say to collect your belongings, but unless you buried them somewhere like a pirate I think we’re good to go.” 

Stone nods. “I’ll need to check out.” He goes over to the cat carrier and zips it open. The badnik immediately flies inside, beeping loudly. At the Doctor’s confused glance, Stone says, “It thinks we’re going on a walk.” 

“You… walk my badnik.” 

Stone nods, even if it’s more like the badnik walks him . Usually after he hasn’t left the apartment in a few days it’ll sit in the carrier and beep loudly until Stone picks it up. The Doctor opens his mouth to say something, then closes it with a shake of his head and walks to the door. Stone follows. 

It doesn’t take long to check out, and Stone rejoins the Doctor outside. The man has his hood up to conceal his face. They walk to the bus stop and wait. It’s a drizzly London day, cold and sprinkling. Stone misses his suit jacket. He lost both it and his tie during a drunken bender where he blacked out and woke up on a bench. 

“So, do anything interesting while I’ve been gone?” The Doctor asks idly. “Pick up any hobbies? Read any books? Watch some telenovas? It’s been three months, Stone, what have you been up to?” 

Nothing. A whole lot of nothing, Doctor. He just shrugs, trying to come up with some lie the Doctor might believe. Thinking feels rather like trying to walk through sludge. 

“Birdwatching.” He says after too long of a silence. Doctor Robotnik turns and grins at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that one, then?” He asks, pointing at a bird across the street. Stone squints.

“... That’s a pigeon, Doctor.” 

“And that one?” Points at a nearby tree.

“Another pigeon.” 

“Fascinating stuff, Stone. I should get into birdwatching myself.” The Doctor laughs, then nudges him. “Oh, lighten up, mi pana. I’m only teasing.” 

Stone nods. They stay quiet until the bus comes. 

Robotnik hates buses. He hasn’t had to take one since college. It’s absolutely packed and several people are touching him. Gross. Stone managed to get a seat and is sitting with the pet carrier in his lap. Robotnik is standing in front of him, hands on a bar, and is trying his best to ignore the sound of a baby wailing and the press of bodies and the stuffy air. 

The stop for the hardware store takes far too long for Robotnik’s liking. But eventually the bus comes to a halt, people jostling him, and he begins to push through the crowd towards the door. He looks behind him to make sure Stone is following, something in his heart unclenches when he is. 

He takes a deep breath of polluted air as soon as he’s off the bus. Stone comes to a stop next to him. They both look at City Hardware. 

“Well. It’s no Home Depot,” Robotnik says. Stone just nods. He wouldn’t say Stone is a talkative man, but he’s usually not this quiet. “It’ll have to do. Come on, Stone.” 

They enter the store, Robotnik grabs a basket. A store associate approaches them and he just raises a hand. “No.” They immediately swerve to go bother someone else. Good. 

They start walking down the aisles, Robotnik picking up the basics and lamenting the state of the store. Nothing cool, nothing to catch his fancy, nothing to inspire him. 

Until he comes across heavy duty magnets. They have neodymium magnets, eh? That gives him an idea… 

He puts several magnets in the cart, brain spinning. They check out, Robotnik using a good amount of his stream money, and he carries a large plastic bag outside. They end up going behind the store, and Robotnik sits on a small bench out there that reeks of cigarette smoke. 

“Here’s the plan, Stone.” He unzips the pet carrier and the badnik floats out. He grabs her and sets her down on the bench next to him. “I’m going to install these magnets onto the badnik. She’ll fly up into the cloud line and wait for the plane to start taking off. Then, I’ll use my control gloves and have her fly onto the plane and attach herself to it via neodymium magnets. She hitches a ride with us back to the states and flies off before we land, no one the wiser. Capiche?” 

Stone only nods, eyes drifting down to the badnik and then back to the alleyway. Robotnik frowns. No ‘brilliant,’ no ‘genius,’ no ‘incredible idea, Doctor, thank you for saving my robotic cuddle buddy?’ Hmph. Something is wrong with Stone. 

No matter. He’ll figure it out later. He has a badnik to magnetize. 

Chapter Text

They’re outside the airport now. It’s hard for Stone to breathe, his chest is too tight. The Doctor hands him his control gloves and says, “You remember the commands, right?” Of course he does. He’ll take the Doctor’s secrets to his grave. 

“Yes, Ivo,” he says, the name still new and unfamiliar in his mouth. He takes the gloves and puts them on carefully. A thank you gets stuck in his throat, so he just nods and walks away.

He grips tightly to the cat carrier as he circles around a dumpster next to the building, ducks out of sight. He unzips the carrier and the badnik floats out, staying close. Stone puts a hand on its shell. 

“We always knew this was going to happen, huh? We couldn’t stay together forever.” Either the badnik’s battery would go out and Stone had no access to a charging port, or Stone would have to sell its parts when his money ran out. 

“It’s why I didn’t name you, you know. I couldn’t lose anybody else. But with the Doctor, maybe we have a chance.” 

The badnik beeps and nudges Stone’s hand. 

“You deserve a name. In case anything happens to you during this. At least you had a name.” 

Stone closes his eyes. Thinks through his favorite science fiction movies with robots. Ah, Moon. A little on the nose, but. A good name. 

“How about Gerty?” The badnik- Gerty- whirs. Stone puts his other hand on her and leans in, resting his forehead against her camera lens. 

“Goodbye, Gerty,” he whispers. Her camera shutters and clicks. He sighs and releases her, inputs the commands with the control gloves. Gerty begins to beep faster and faster as she ascends upwards into the sky. Stone watches until she disappears into the clouds.

He tosses the cat carrier into the dumpster and returns to the Doctor’s side. Hands over the control gloves, unable to meet the other man’s eyes. He should trust in the Doctor’s plan. 

He doesn’t. 

The ‘emergency passports’ Robotnik designed on his phone and printed out at a Staples that match their fake IDs got them through customs. Stone is a silent shadow by his side as they pass through security and find their boarding gate. They have close to an hour before their flight begins to board, and Robotnik’s hungry enough that he’s willing to put up with airport food if it means not having to eat air plane food later on. 

“Where should we eat, Stone?” He asks, spying a small food court in the distance. Stone takes a seat in a lobby chair and looks down at his hands. 

“You can go ahead, Doctor. I’m not hungry.” 

Robotnik frowns. He hasn’t seen Stone eat at all yet. “When was the last time you ate?” 

Stone shrugs. He rolls his eyes and grabs Stone’s arm, yanking him to his feet. Stone goes easily as he always does, which is a relief, and Robotnik starts tugging him in the direction of the food court. 

“Ivo, I’m not hungry-”

“Bzzt! Don’t care! You’ll feel better after you eat- isn’t that what you constantly told me in the mobile lab?” 

Stone sighs but doesn’t tug his arm away, so Robotnik takes it as a win. 

“Look! They have Chipotle. Let’s see how well Londoners can make knock off Mexican food.” 

And that’s how they end up eating subpar burritos on a tiny airport table, knees knocking together. Robotnik watches with satisfaction as Stone eats his food, finishing his own fast so he tastes as little as possible. 

Stone goes to stand when he’s done, and Robotnik reaches out and grabs his sleeve. He stops, looking at him questioningly. 

“No need to rush, Дружище (good friend). We have time.” Mostly Robotnik is enjoying the closeness, and relaxes as Stone settles back into his chair, his gaze drifting to the people passing by. 

“What do you want to do when we get back to the states?” Robotnik asks, curious. 

Stone hums consideringly. “A new suit would be nice.”

“Well, obviously. Anything else we can cross off your bucket list?” 

Stone’s mouth twitches up into a smile, the first one Robotnik’s seen. He immediately leans forward.

“What? What is it?” 

Stone’s eyes gleam as he says, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a club…” 

Robotnik groans, leaning back. “We’re too old for that shit, Stone.” 

He shrugs. “You’d be surprised.” Stone seems content to leave it there, but Robotnik chases the ghost of the smile and blurts out, 

“Fine! We can go clubbing. But you better dance with me. I’m not going to be that creepy old guy lurking in the corner.” 

Stone nods. “Deal.” Robotnik reaches out and grabs his hand, giving it a shake. He lingers, holding it for a beat too long, before reluctantly letting go. 

Stone goes back to watching the people pass by. And Robotnik watches Stone. I missed you , he thinks, I want you . 

He’s a coward so he doesn’t say anything. 

They board the plane, and Stone’s exhausted. Today has been more walking and talking than he’s had in three months put together. He misses Gerty. He wants to be asleep. 

They take their seats in first class, Stone next to the window and the Doctor in the aisle seat. He closes his eyes and tries to tune out the noise. He feels something nudge him and he reluctantly opens his eyes to see the Doctor leaning close, angling his phone towards him. 

“That’s our badnik,” he whispers, tapping on a red dot. “She’s right above us and has magnetized herself to the roof.” Stone breathes out a sigh of relief at that. Now he can only hope she can hang on for the entirety of a ten hour flight. 

The plane soon takes off, and Ivo lets him watch the red dot until they get up too far and the signal is lost. Then Stone settles in to try and sleep. Usually on long flights he would be listening to a podcast or reading a book he’s downloaded onto his phone, but without one he has little options. The less time he spends in his own head the better. 

But it’s been awhile since he’s had to sleep in a chair, and his head keeps rolling forward and waking him up. After the third time the Doctor snaps, 

“For fucks sake, Stone, just lean on me.” 

Stone shoots him a confused look, and the Doctor pokes him. “Your head. My shoulder. Come on now.” 

Oh. That’s… nice of him. Stone hesitantly leans over and rests his head on Ivo’s shoulder. He’s warm, and it feels good, and soon he finds himself falling into a dreamless sleep. 

Stone wakes up again when the airplane shakes from turbulence. He lifts his head up from the Doctor’s shoulder and looks around. The overhead speakers turn on. 

“Good afternoon, passengers, this is your captain speaking. We’re experiencing a bit of turbulence but should be clear of it in a few minutes. It’s 3:15 pacific standard time and we’ll be landing in the next forty five minutes.” 

The Doctor takes out an earbud and pauses the movie he’s watching on the tiny screen. Chris Evans on a train, Snowpiercer. 

“I would’ve made a spaceship myself,” The Doctor mutters, and Stone nods. 

“You would’ve made a much better Wilson,” he says, saying it like a fact. Because it’s true. 

“And what about you, Stone? Would you be willing to hack off some arms for me?” The Doctor teases. ‘Of course, Doctor,’ is on the tip of his tongue. It’s what he would have said months ago. Instead what falls out of his mouth is, 

“Would you have really cloned me?” He regrets it as soon as he says it. It’s something that’s been on his mind for the past few months- if the Doctor would really replace him like that. With something better, something that looks like him but has none of his memories or experiences. His failures. You can teach anyone how to make a latte with Austrian goat milk. 

“What?”  The Doctor looks perplexed. 

“The phone call. You fired me and said I’d have to stay on until you cloned me.” Stone explains, numbness in his chest. His eyes widened in recognition. 

“Oh… Stone, I… I regret that phone call.” 

“You didn’t listen to me. I almost drowned-”

“What?!” 

“And the first thing I did was call you. How could you doubt my loyalty? How could you throw me away like, like trash? You were supposed to take me with you. You left me behind.” The words are bitter, like poison. Stone grips the armrests tightly, looking straight ahead. 

The Doctor is quiet. “I know,” he finally says, “I was so… caught up with Pop Pop I couldn’t see what I had in front of me. Not until the end, when I thought I was going to lose you thanks to my own… idiocy.” 

The Doctor grabs his hand. “Stone,” he says, and he reluctantly turns his head to face him. Ivo looks sad and sincere as he continues, “I was angry at you. And all I wanted to do was prove myself to Pop Pop, that I can be as heartless and evil as he was. But even in the moment, I couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t by my side. Clone or not. That’s why I said it. I’m… I’m sorry, Stone.” 

It should have made him feel better. But all he feels is tired and a creeping sense of despair. How does he know it won’t happen again? Why should he trust the Doctor will keep him? He doesn’t know. He can’t know. 

Stone turns away and gently shakes off the Doctor’s hand, placing it in his lap. He closes his eyes. They’re both quiet as the plane continues to fly on. 

It isn’t until the plane is descending that the Doctor speaks again. “Stone, I have signal. The badnik is still on the plane.” 

He opens his eyes then and looks down at the phone. A steady red dot is still on top of their location. The tightness in his chest disappears, and Stone breathes a sigh of relief. He gives the Doctor a shaky smile. 

“It worked,” he says. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, Stone. I am the smartest man in the world, after all,” the Doctor says haughtily. 

Stone nods and goes back to staring at the seat in front of him. It won’t be the same until he can see Gerty himself. 

They rent a car and Robotnik drives it to the top of the airport’s parking lot. Stone hops out of the car and looks up at the sky. Robotnik inputs the commands for the badnik to return to him, and a white dot begins to descend down from the clouds. Stone lifts his arms up as she zooms towards him. The badnik knocks Stone to the ground and Robotnik quickly gets out of the car himself, concerned. Only to hear the beautiful sound of Stone laughing when he opens the door. 

He walks around the car to see Stone sitting up on the ground, the badnik resting on his chest and beeping wildly. 

“You’re cold, Gerty! And all wet!” Stone exclaims, a big smile on his face, and maybe everything will be okay. 

“Come on, you two, we have a secret lab to get to,” Robotnik says, totally not jealous at all, and goes back around the car. He gets in first, Stone gets in second, pushing his seat back and buckling up before the badnik- Gerty?- floats in and rests on his lap. Stone closes the door. 

“Ready, Doctor,” he says, and Robotnik starts the car. 

“Let’s rock and roll.”

Chapter Text

The drive to the secret lab takes hours. It’s in bumfuck nowhere in the middle of the woods of Northern California. Robotnik plays tunes of anarchy twice before turning it off, over it. Stone seems content to sleep, using the badnik like a pillow. Stone…

Something is wrong with the man. Robotnik’s never apologized to anyone before, it’s not in his nature. But he did feel bad about that phone call. And an apology is supposed to smooth everything over, right? Make everything go back to normal? Not Stone retreating from his hand like he had something sticky on it- and he didn’t! He checked! So what gives? 

Stone’s lucky he looked so… sad, or else Robotnik would have interrogated him about it right then and there. 

Whatever. Robotnik’s going to figure it out, and fix it, and then confess his feelings to Stone a la Última Pasión and they can go skipping hand in hand into the sunset, or whatever is supposed to happen next. 

Or… maybe a love confession is exactly what Stone needs to shake him out of… whatever this is. Delayed shock over him returning from the dead? Decrease in motivation after an extended break from villainy? 

The symptoms seem to be: sad puppy dog eyes, a bizarre sleep schedule, decrease in appetite, strange behavior overall. An obsessive need to cling to one of Robotnik’s badniks as if he doesn’t have dozens just like her back at their base. Which also, when he gets the chance he’s going to examine that badnik. Pull up her memory drives, see what her and Stone have actually been up to while he was away. 

He’s still lost in his own thoughts and schemes when the car finally pulls up to the cabin in the middle of the woods- a cabin with an extensive underground base. About an hour away from any town, ordering take out is going to be a pain but there’s nothing a little bribery can’t fix. Though if he knows Stone, the man’s going to nag him about how a secret base can’t stay secret when you become a regular at a Chinese restaurant. 

Stone lifts his head off the badnik as they come to a stop. It’s night now, the cabin illuminated by the headlights. Robotnik is eager to get inside and check out his new secret lair. 

“¡Ándele!” He commands, getting out of the car. Stone follows suit, the badnik floating after him. 

He opens the door by putting his hand over a secret panel. The inside looks untouched, barebones. At least it hasn’t been infiltrated by squatters, though they’d most likely be lasered to death by the coffee machine. 

Robotnik stalks over to the living room and pulls back the tacky shag rug. Underneath is a hatch with a numeric lock. He inputs the numbers quickly- Stone’s birthday- and it unlocks. He swings it open, revealing a ladder going down. He climbs down first, Stone following. 

It leads to the first level of the secret base. It begins lighting up, all shiny and chrome, with a full rack of badniks, an expansive lab, and a desk surrounded by holoscreens. After being cramped in the mobile lab and then the Crab, the extra space is appreciated. An elevator at the far end goes down to his larger workshop and then their actual living quarters. 

Which is where Stone is currently trying to sneak off to. “Bababa!” He calls, and the man freezes. Robotnik goes over to a panel on the side of the lab and pulls it out. He grabs a replacement watch for Stone that he uses to track the man and his vitals, as well as a new phone. He walks over and hands them to him. 

Stone puts on the watch and slides the phone into his pocket. “I’ll be in the living quarters, Doctor.” As he goes the badnik tries to follow, but Robotnik reaches up and grabs her. She bzzts at him angrily. Him! Her creator! 

“Stop that,” he snaps, only for her to release a small electrical shock over her shell, causing him to jump back. What the! 

“Gerty,” Stone says tiredly, like he hasn’t been sleeping for fifteen hours today. “You need to be charged.” She beeps at Stone and nudges him forward, towards the elevator. Stone keeps walking, the badnik following, and Robotnik watches them go, perplexed. 

Stone steps out of the elevator on the third floor, the lights turning on and illuminating the space. A couch in front of a large tv, a kitchen that needs to be stocked, a table for meals rarely used. His new home for who knows how long. He heads towards the back where there are three doors: Ivo’s room, the bathroom, and his own. Gerty floats behind him. 

Stone enters his bedroom. He oversaw this lab’s construction himself, so it has more of a personal touch than the Doctor’s. A basket of knitting supplies in the corner, a half-finished red blanket on top. A closet filled with an unnecessary amount of clothes. A bookshelf with his favorites and a few series he’s been meaning to read. The Doctor’s transitioned entirely to e-reading, but there’s something comforting about the weight of a book in his hands.

He looks at it all and feels… nothing. Tired. Did it matter? Did anything matter? 

He changes into a set of sleep clothes and throws his old ones into a small trash bin. At least he won’t be wearing the same clothes for over three months anymore. Gerty settles on top of one of the bed’s pillows.

Stone goes over to the bathroom and brushes his teeth. He looks at himself in the mirror. Floppy hair, shaggy beard, tired eyes. He should trim his beard, clip his hair. He has the supplies now. He should do it. He would do it, if not for the apathy filling him. 

He doesn’t want to go back to the old Stone. He doesn’t think he can . And now there’s a million things to do- a perimeter to patrol, supplies to get, food to make, lattes to give, repairs to help with… 

Tomorrow. Maybe it will be better tomorrow. 

He goes back into his bedroom, shuts off the lights, and clambers into bed next to the soft glowing red light of Gerty. 

It’s not better tomorrow. If anything, it’s worse . 

Stone wakes up and the world is crushing him. He feels terrible. Everything’s so heavy. It’s hard to move, hard to think. He just wants to go back to sleep. Sleep would be better than this. Anything would be better than this. 

He has enough energy to flop to his side and reach out to Gerty. She immediately presses herself to his chest and he curls around her, wanting to cry but unable to. He needs to get up. He needs to get up . The Doctor’s here now, he can’t afford to stay in bed all day like he would’ve in the motel. 

The Doctor needs a latte. The Doctor needs breakfast. The Doctor needs, and Stone is supposed to be there, by his side. 

… if he leaves this bed he is going to die. He cannot move. The idea of his feet on the floor is distressing. 

Stone tilts his wrist and checks his watch. 0710. The Doctor will be up soon. He needs to do… something. He can’t leave this room. He needs to leave this room. His eyes land on the bedside table.

The phone! Yes, he can text the Doctor. Tell him he’s sick. That should be enough to keep him away, the Doctor despises being ill and will do anything not to catch it. He reaches over Gerty and grabs it. He sends a text to the number he’s memorized. 

Doctor, I’m not feeling well, I may have caught something at the airport. I won’t be able to work today. I’m sorry. -Stone 

He breathes out a sigh of relief and sets the phone back on the end table. Buries himself under the covers and clings to Gerty, who starts warming up. At least, under here, he’s safe. 

Robotnik spent most of the night going through the lab’s inventory and making sure everything’s in order, so he’s earned a sleep in. He wakes up late, checking his phone and sees it’s 1042 and he has a text from an unknown number. 

It’s Stone, and Stone is sick? Gross. Robotnik’s sure to follow no matter how much Stone squirrels away, they were in the same car for five hours yesterday. He does check the man’s vitals on his phone, worried that he’s apparently too sick to work. Everything looks in order, but maybe he can catch Stone later and administer a blood test. Just to make sure everything’s okay. 

He gets up and goes over to his closet. Stone has filled it with blacks and reds, his graphic tees from the Crab nowhere in sight. Probably best to go back to a professional appearance anyway… 

Robotnik puts on a dark red button up and black slacks. The clothes are slightly loose, they must have been sized based on his weight in the Crab, but months on a mushroom only diet has made him lose a few pounds. He pulls a black coat over it- he does miss his old coat, too bad the thing burned up- and feels more like his old self. Now he only needs his hair shaved and stache trimmed and he’ll be ready to crush that damn hedgehog again. Should be called a hedgeroach.

He leaves the bedroom, staring at Stone’s door across the way. He shouldn’t bother the man. He wants to, though. Just to see him, a little peek. He needs a reason. Food, maybe? Whenever he’s ill Stone makes him soup and tea. He can try returning the favor. 

Robotnik goes over to the kitchen and checks. There are only a few cans of food, no perishables. Makes sense. He opens drawers until he finds a box of teabags and coffee beans. He microwaves a mug of water from the sink and waits, fiddling with the box. If the him from a few months ago could see him now, making tea for his sycophant- his friend , he’d be laughed out of the Crab. 

Whatever. Past him can go screw himself. 

The microwave dings and he dunks in two teabags. There. Wait, sugar. He searches the rest of the kitchen, despairing when he finds none. He’ll need to go to town today, they are in desperate need of groceries. That would normally be Stone’s job, but he can handle it. 

Well, Stone’s just going to have to do with sugarless tea juice. He takes the mug and goes over to Stone’s door, pushing it open. 

There’s a large lump in the middle of the bed, covered in blankets. A soft red glow comes from the middle of it. 

“Stone!” There’s a little movement. “I brought you tea.” 

He waits for a response. After several long moments he hears a mumbled, “Thanks,” coming from the lump. Well, at least the man’s alive. 

“I’m just... going to leave it here.” Robotnik walks over to the end table where Stone’s phone is. He sets the mug next to it, takes a long look at the lump, and turns to walk out of the room. 

The door clicks shut behind him. He needs to get groceries, and then he can get to work. 

Stone slowly uncurls from around Gerty after the door clicks shut and he hears Ivo’s footsteps walking away. Tea? That’s… surprisingly kind, from the Doctor. 

He shuffles to the edge of the bed and picks up the mug, enjoying the warmth in his hands. He begins to drink, flavorless tea filling his stomach, warming his insides. He sets the empty mug down and goes back under the covers, curling around Gerty again and somehow feeling better than before. 

Chapter Text

The problem wasn’t getting the groceries. Nor was it getting the groceries down to the lab- strapping the bags to his babies and having them float after him was child’s play. No, Robotnik put the groceries away like a good house husband and is standing in front of the stove. He’s placed a pot on top of the stove. Now he’s staring at cans. 

Cans of tomato soup that should be relatively easy to open. Easy to heat, no margin for error.

If he had a can opener. 

With an angry sigh he stomps towards the elevator. He should have an electric saw somewhere… 

As time passes, the heavy weight crushing Stone’s chest begins to lift. He’s memorized all the grooves and panels of Gerty but keeps tracing her shell with his fingers. When he’s certain he’s not going to die if he gets off the bed he shuffles over to the bathroom. Relieves himself, washes his hands, brushes his teeth. Feels a bit more human than before.

He stares at himself in the mirror. The person who looks back isn’t Stone, so he’s not Stone. Simple. He pushes his hair away from his face, studying tired dull eyes. He tries to smile. It’s a sad attempt. Who is this not-Stone? 

Snap out of it, he thinks desperately, just snap out of it already! The Doctor’s back! You don’t need to do this anymore! 

Dead eyes stare back. Unkempt. Unprofessional. Un-Stone. 

Through the door, he hears a faint buzzing noise. Confused, he turns around. It’s followed by a loud pop, then the familiar sound of the Doctor shrieking. 

Fear for the Doctor overrides his shame and he bursts out of the bathroom, runs down the corridor and slides to a stop in front of the kitchen. Red- blood?!- is everywhere, exploded outwards from the Doctor, who slowly turns. He’s covered in red and looks shell shocked. Stone rushes up, grabs Ivo’s arms, looking for an arterial nick and smelling the strong scent of tomato instead. 

Oh. His eyes dart down to Ivo’s hands, ungloved and one holding a busted metal can. 

“Sorry,” Stone blurts out, releasing the other man and stepping back. “I thought…” 

“It exploded. I did not expect that.” The Doctor says plainly, and gingerly sets the can on the counter. 

“You should shower. I’ll take care of this.” Stone already feels tired by the idea. At least it’s something he can do before retreating back to the bedroom.

“No! No, you’re sick. Go rest. Shoo, Stone, I’ve got it.” Ivo insists. That’s strange. Usually the Doctor would see such menial tasks beneath him. Not having any energy to argue, Stone just nods. 

“The cleaning supplies are under the sink.” He walks away, back into his bedroom where Gerty is waiting. Stone ends up sitting crosslegged on the bed, Gerty resting in his lap while he hugs her, staring at the wall. 

He’s not sure how much time passes, but there’s a knock on the door before it’s being pushed open by a now clean Doctor in a set of stark blacks instead of the dark red he was wearing earlier. He’s holding a bowl in his hands that he passes to Stone. It’s warm, filled with tomato soup and has a spoon resting on the side. 

“Thank you, Ivo,” he says, even if he didn’t feel like eating. He never feels like eating these days, food flavorless and like ash in his mouth. He plays around with the idea of dumping it down the sink, but then the Doctor’s climbing onto the foot of his bed, sitting down and watching Stone with intense brown eyes. 

Feeling rather like a bug under a microscope, Stone reluctantly begins eating. At least it’s warm, and the texture isn’t too bad. Usually the Doctor would fill the silence between them with talk of his latest work or theories, Stone giving an admiring compliment here and there. He missed it when the Doctor was dead. He missed Ivo’s voice. He’d play old streams of Huevo Diablo before he had to sell his phone. 

Stone finishes the soup and leans over to set the bowl on the end table next to the empty mug. As he does, Ivo leans forward and, quicker than Stone can react to, slips his fingers into Gerty’s side panel and presses the emergency off switch. 

Stone hasn’t done that ever, even though badniks aren’t designed to be on 24/7 for months. He was too afraid Gerty wouldn’t be able to power on again without a charging port. The red glow dims to blackness, and Stone feels a panic rise in his chest. 

“Why would you do that?” Stone can’t keep the betrayal out of his voice, hugging her closer. The Doctor gives him a strange look. 

“I need to run a diagnostic on her, check her for damage and see if she needs a charge. It won’t take long, come on, Stone, give her over.” 

Stone frowns, eyes drifting down to Gerty’s white shell. He wants to make the Doctor promise he won’t hurt her, which doesn’t make any sense. Of course he wouldn’t. Right? 

He reluctantly slides Gerty over. Being offline makes her much heavier, and the Doctor gets off the bed and heaves her into his arms. 

“Be back soon,” he grunts, and disappears behind a closing door. Stone lowers himself down to his side and closes his eyes. He’s full now but somehow feels emptier than before. 

“Alright, let’s see what you and Stone have been up to. And why you’re being so mean to Daddy.” Robotnik has the badnik now plugged up to his display monitor on his desk. He tries to open her surveillance footage over the past three months, but something strange happens. All the files are locked. 

He inputs his master key. ACCESS DENIED flashes across the screen. Robotnik scowls. What the-! That shouldn’t be possible! 

He inputs it again, clearly he missed a letter. ACCESS DENIED. He checks on the base code and finds it’s… corrupted. Not corrupted, changed. 

“Did Stone do this to you?” He murmurs. Why wouldn’t he tell him though? 

Input: run diagnostic 

DIAGNOSTIC DENIED. 

Input: IVO ROBOTNIK requesting OWNERSHIP ACCESS 

ACCESS DENIED. IVO ROBOTNIK IS DEAD. 

“I’m right here, you blasted machine!” He shouts. Shakes his head, types out,

Input: current ownership access

CURRENT OWNER: GERTY 

Robotnik slumps back in his chair, stumped. His badniks should not be able to change the ownership status. Nor the code, so what was doing this? It had to have an outside source.

Input: primary purpose 

PRIMARY PURPOSE: PROTECT STONE 

Is she stuck in protective mode? 

Input: query ‘protect stone’ 

MISSION STATEMENT: [audio_file_122924] 

Robotnik puts on his headphones and opens it. Stone’s voice echoes out, a slight slur to it,

[[“It’s not like I want to die. I’m just.. tired. You know?”

Bzzt. 

“When your battery is about to die you have to go to a charging port. My charging port is dead. He died, and left me-”

Boop? Beep. 

“Doctor Robotnik. He made you. He’s dead now. I’m alone, and I don’t know how much longer I can… I don’t know if I can…keep going…”

Bzzt. Bzzt! 

“I don’t see a point in anything. Pathetic, I know. Until that changes I’ll just... Be here, I guess.” 

Beep, beep. 

“Would you kill me if I asked you to? A laser to the head should do it. Quick, simple. Kind of poetic.” 

Beep, boop, bzzt, bzzt! Bzzt!!

“Sorry. Sorry, it’s late and I’m drunk. I’ll just… shut up now.”]] 

Robotnik slowly takes off his headphones, staring at the screen. Stone was… suicidal? Over him? That isn’t right. That can’t be right. He saved the world for Stone, the man can’t turn around and leave it just because it seemed like he blew up. It’s not fair. 

It’s not what happened, either. Robotnik gets a momentary vision of his initial tracking leading to Stone’s unmarked grave and feels sick, dizzy. No. No, that’s not what happened. 

So what did? 

Input: query ‘mission statement’ protocols 

PROTOCOLS: SAVE STONE FROM STONE. PROVIDE COMFORT. ENCOURAGE WALKS. ENCOURAGE EATING. REFER TO: PURPOSE RESEARCH

Input: purpose research 

Multiple files pop up, downloaded from the internet. ‘Treating Depression,’ ‘How to Help a Depressed Friend,’ ‘Major Depression Disorder: Symptoms and Treatment,’ ‘Suicide Ideation,’ ‘Emotional Support Animals and Depression,’ ‘How to Cheer Up a Depressed Person,’ and so on. 

Robotnik leans back and rubs at his forehead. His badnik clearly thought Stone is depressed, and apparently altered its own code to try and treat him. Is this what happens when they don’t get their regular software updates, or is this one special? 

“I suppose I should thank you,” he says out loud, even though the badnik can’t hear him. “For helping him. He’s fine now though, I’m back. Everything can go back to normal.” 

Except everything wasn’t quite normal, was it? Stone has been more… subdued than normal. Is that why he’s sleeping all the time? Is he even sick right now, or just hiding? And what can he do to help? How does he fix this? 

He’s never dealt with depression himself, not something he’s ever had to research either. So, he sighs. And clicks on the link for ‘How to Help a Depressed Friend.'

Chapter Text

After a bit of research, Robotnik has come to two conclusions:

1. He may have, admittedly, been depressed while in the Crab before he got his groove back on. Possibly. A bit. Okay, maybe a lot. Would he have rotted there indefinitely without the damn hedgehog kicking him back into action, watching telenovelas and getting fat? Maybe. But, who cares? He doesn’t. It’s over. He’s never going back there again. 
2. Clearly the research is wrong, or at least underestimate the sheer power and determination of one Doctor Ivo Robotnik. Because apparently there’s not a way to just fix Stone. That he needs a medical professional and treatment to help. Well, he may not be that type of Doctor, but he can do anything, including fixing Stone’s broken brain.

Because unfortunately, the badnik is right. Stone is showcasing a lot of symptoms of depression. Sleeping all the time, check. Displays of sadness and apathy, check. Change in hygiene- he’s never seen Stone so unkempt. Check. Again, reminders of how Robotnik himself acted while in the Crab. Well, if this is to be Stone’s Crab era, Robotnik’s not going to let him rot like he did. 

The articles say stuff like ‘give them unconditional emotional support,’ ‘show empathy.’ ‘give positive reinforcement.’ Gross. Well, if he has to. His research suggests doing things outside, getting out of the house. Encourage activities like hobbies. He can do that.   

He just has to come up with a gameplan… 

First, return Stone’s emotional support badnik. Gerty has been charging long enough, so he disconnects her and powers her on. She whirs and floats upwards, red eye pointed at him. And then there’s a burst of red light, a loud ZAP, and he smells burnt hair. He reaches up and feels his singed mustache, now shorter on the left side than before. 

“What the- how dare you!” He leaps up, grabbing for her, but she quickly zooms up to the ceiling. He shakes his fist. “I am your creator! You will treat me with respect!” 

Beep, beep, bzzt!

Robotnik glares up at her. “You’re lucky Stone likes you so much, or else I’d use you for scrap metal!” Damn rebellious drone. His mustache!

Whirrr. Bzzt, bzzt! With that, the badnik floats across the room to the elevator, flies down and bumps up against the button. Robotnik lets her go, flipping her off over his shoulder as he sits back down at his desk. What to do first… 

Stone wakes up to a loud thump coming from the door. He reluctantly gets out of bed and opens it to see Gerty floating there. A rush of relief hits him as she presses herself against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, shutting the door.

“You’re okay,” he says, and walks over to the bed. She lets out a series of beeps and whirs. He sits down on the edge of the bed and rests his head on her shell. Stone stares at the wall for a while, absolutely nothing going on in his mind. He’s hollow, but if he stays still and quiet it isn’t too bad. 

There’s a knock at the door. “Dinner’s ready! Come out, Stone, we’re eating at the table tonight.” Stone lets go of Gerty and she floats upwards towards the ceiling. He stands up and makes his way to the door, his body feeling like it’s on autopilot. 

The Doctor is waiting for him outside. “After you, compadre (friend),” he says, keeping the door open. Stone turns and heads down the hall. A moment later the door closes, and there’s a soft thump followed by faint beeps and bzzts. 

The dining room table has been set for two, with a slice of lasagna on each plate and glasses of wine. He stops, feeling dumbfounded. This… did not make sense. The Doctor comes to a stop next to him. Their sleeves brush. 

“You know how to cook?” He asks, feeling like reality took a step to the left when he wasn’t looking. The Doctor snorts. 

“If by cook you mean know how to defrost a frozen lasagna, sure.” Oh. That made more sense. They both take their seats. 

Stone begins eating the lasagna. It doesn’t taste like anything, just warm with a slimy texture from the noodles. The Doctor made it though, so Stone powers through even if he just wants to go back to bed. He barely sips at the wine, remembering the last time he got drunk. 

He’s trying to force himself to eat the last few pieces, tapping at them with his fork, when the Doctor breaks the silence. 

“Stone.” He looks up. The Doctor looks serious, a bit nervous. Why? “This isn’t just dinner. I wanted to talk to you.” Oh, no. He must be in trouble. 

“About what, Doctor?” He asks carefully. He puts down his fork and lays his hands in his lap.

“You’ve been acting differently lately.” Shit. “I think you’re depressed.” 

Stone’s eyes drift down to the lasagna scraps. Depressed. Yeah, you could say that. You could say a lot of things. Depressed. Tired. Useless. 

“Are you going to fire me?” He asks numbly. 

“No! No, of course not. I want to help you get back to normal, and then we can focus on our next plan to rule the world and defeat that damn hedgehog,” the Doctor says passionately. 

“I’m just- slowing you down,” Stone mutters, eyes glued to the table. He feels vulnerable, exposed. He hears the Doctor stand up and he flinches. Footsteps, coming towards him, and then a gloved hand is on his face, wrapping around his chin. The Doctor forces his head up, and Stone stares into blazing brown eyes.

“We’re partners now, you and I. And I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t care if I have to kidnap a psychiatrist or synthesize lithium in my lab, I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel better. In case you forgot, I saved the fucking world for you, died for you, and you think I’m going to give up now? Just because you’re not your normal happy self? Don’t you dare underestimate me again. Don’t you dare think you’re not important to me,” the Doctor says fiercely. “Capiche, Stone?” 

“Capiche,” he says faintly, full of awe. The Doctor squints at him and nods before releasing his face. He grabs Stone’s plate and then his own, brings it over to the sink. 

“What’s your favorite movie, Stone?” he calls. 

“Interstellar.” 

“We’re watching that tonight, then. Go sit on the couch.” Stone obeys, and then hears a thumping noise coming from his bedroom. Gerty… He quickly walks over and opens the door. She immediately zooms out and flies in a circle around him. 

“We’re going to watch Interstellar, Gerty. You’ll like it, there’s a robot in it.” He walks back into the living room, Gerty floating after him. The Doctor is sitting on the couch already, casting the movie to the tv from his phone. Stone hesitantly takes a seat next to him, on the middle cushion, and Gerty perches on the cushion next to Stone. 

The movie begins. The Doctor begins leaning into Stone’s side, and as the space mission starts his head drops onto Stone’s shoulder. It feels… good. He never gets to be this close to the Doctor. He puts a hand on Gerty and focuses on the movie. It’s been a few years since he’s last seen it, and it still holds up as amazing sci fi. It’s enough to distract him from the emptiness inside, at least for a few hours. 

By the end of the movie the Doctor is snoring, apparently not as caught up in the plot and visuals as Stone. Or maybe he just had a long day. Stone carefully lowers the Doctor onto the couch, untangling himself as Gerty floats off. He looks at the Doctor’s face, illuminated by the credits rolling. His Doctor. So handsome. So full of surprises. So good to Stone. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, and walks away to get ready for bed. Tomorrow will be better. He’s sure of it.

Chapter Text

Stone wakes up in the morning and for once doesn’t feel hollowed out and empty. Instead there’s a buzz of energy in his chest, his hands. He blinks up at the ceiling and tries to smile. Still doesn’t feel right. That’s fine, he can work with this- work like this. At least his world isn’t collapsing in on itself. As least- 

Don’t ruminate. Get up, get ready. He gives Gerty a pat as he goes over to the closet and she beeps at him. He takes out one of his all black suits and puts it on, walks over to the bathroom and closes the door behind him. 

Stone stares at himself in the mirror. His old suit is large on him. There’s a bagginess there that wasn’t before. With unkept hair going down to his ears and his beard wild and grown out he looks… 

That is not Stone there, in the mirror. That’s a pathetic man with empty eyes and a perpetual frown pretending to be Stone. The Doctor will notice. The Doctor will see- 

What does it matter? He’s been confronted about it already. Ivo knows and still wants him around. Why? It did not make sense. Stone feels a flicker of anger in his chest. Why should he pretend to be something he’s not? He can’t. He’s not Stone, so. 

He marches back over to his room, yanks off his suit and throws it down onto the closet floor. He goes through his sparse civilian clothes instead, pulls out a purple silk longsleeve shirt and puts it on. He finds a black vest and layers it over the shirt, the hug of the material making him feel more secure. He unfolds black skinny jeans last, even though on him now they were more like regular jeans. Black boots complete the ensemble. 

There. Gerty floats over to him, nudges his side with a whir. “What do you think, Gerty? Good enough?” She trills and flies around him in a circle, scanning him with a red light. She beeps in what he hopes is approval. 

He finishes getting ready in the bathroom, splashes cold water on his face, stares at the stranger in the mirror again. Call me Ishmael… 

Should he start using his assigned civilian name again? 

Aban, he tries, Aban. It isn’t right either. He feels like a stranger in his skin. Maybe he can cut himself down even further, insist on only being called Agent. He has a feeling the Doctor wouldn’t like that though. 

He leaves the bathroom and goes over to the kitchen. Ivo would survive off of freezer food if Stone didn’t intervene, and he can handle making breakfast. It’s only been three months, his skills couldn’t have deteriorated that much. 

He looks through the fridge, pulls out a carton of eggs and a bag of corn tortillas. He learned how to make a lot of Mexican food during their stint in Mexico, and this was one of his favorites. Simple yet delicious. 

Gerty floats onto one of the counters and settles there. He rolls up his sleeves and finds the pans he stocked in here so long ago. He sprays it with oil and starts the stove up. Tears corn tortillas into triangular strips and tosses them in. They make a satisfying hissing noise as they land and he spends a few minutes tending to it, moving them around with a spatula until they’re nearing crispy. He then cracks three eggs and mixes them in.

Soon the eggs are scrambled to his satisfaction, the tortilla pieces golden brown. He turns off the stove and plates them, finishing it off with a light sprinkle of salt on his and a more generous pour for Ivo’s- he knows his Doctor, afterall. 

Stone looks over to the couch, where the man is still sleeping. “Breakfast is ready,” he half heartedly calls, and begins to bring the plates to the table. He hears a groan coming from the couch, and when he turns to get forks he sees Gerty flying over to the Doctor and hovering above him. 

He’s pulling forks out of the counter shelf when he hears a loud thump noise, followed by an outraged cry. Gerty flies back to him, beeping excitedly. 

“Damn machine,” the Doctor grumbles, “I was getting up!” 

Stone taps a fork against Gerty’s shell. “No divebombing the Doctor,” he says sternly, and she spins around him, whirring. 

He sits down at the table, Ivo soon joining him, glaring up at Gerty as she floats near the ceiling. Stone begins to eat. The food is… fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. 

“Thank you, Stone. I missed this while I was gone.” 

“Missed what?” He asks, curious. 

“You know,” the Doctor waves a hand, “Earth food. Something soft to sleep on. You.” 

Stone cocks his head, surprised. “Me?” 

The Doctor rubs his forehead. “Okay, I have to ask. Did you even watch my final broadcast?” 

A pang of hurt. “Of course I did-” 

“Then you should knoooow you’re the only person I care about on this shitty planet, enough to save the damn thing and kill myself in the process. So why the fuck wouldn’t I miss you during those three months?” He seems genuinely angry, and Stone is… nervous, despite the kind words. “Did you lose brain cells somehow while I was gone? Hit your head against the bastardnik too many times?” 

“No, sir,” he murmurs, looking down at his half eaten food. He feels sick all of a sudden. Like he wants to just disappear. 

“I just don’t understand how you don’t know,” the Doctor says, agitated. I’m sorry, Stone wants to say, but keeps his mouth shut. 

They finish their breakfast in tense silence- or at least, the other man does, Stone just moves the food around his plate listlessly. He looks up when the Doctor walks away from the table, disappearing into his room. Gerty floats back down and nudges up against him. He puts an arm around her, rests his forehead against her shell. 

“What do you think he wanted me to say?” Stone whispers. Gerty beeps and whirs, and he wishes she could actually speak. He sighs and pushes himself up, clears the table. 

Robotnik changes into a new outfit for the day, layering black clothing like armor. 

Why did he lose his temper at Stone like that? Just because the man hasn’t picked up what he’s putting down? I like you, you idiot, is what he wanted to scream, because it felt like Stone was doubting him at every turn. 

Stone should know. If anything it’s his fault! He shouldn’t even have to say it. He huffs and runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm down. Maybe when Stone’s cured of depression it’ll click on like a lightbulb. Three months without him and the man becomes suicidal and depressed. Who even does that? Over him? 

Something has to be there. He has to like Robotnik back, he’s just all- sad right now. Maybe he can run some experiments of his own, try to figure out if Stone does like him without straight up asking like a dweeb. 

He could try alcohol to loosen his lips, his inhibitions. They never really drank together though, not more than a glass or so. 

Wait. Stone did want to go clubbing. You drink at clubs. A plan is beginning to form, when he’s pulled from his thoughts by a buzz from his phone. He picks it up from the end table and sees he’s been sent a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown number: 🖕

What the fuck? He sends back a middle finger emoji. 

A typing bubble appears. He waits, curious despite himself. 

Unknown number: 01000010 01000101 00100000 01001110 01001001 01000011 01000101 00100000 01010100 01001111 00100000 01010011 01010100 01001111 01001110 01000101

Binary? He translates it in his head. 

BE NICE TO STONE. 

You’ve got to be kidding me. 

Robotnik: Gerty? 

Unknown number: 🤖🖕

Great. The bastardnik has learned how to text. 

Robotnik: fuck you too bitchbot 

Unknown number: [image_4132] 

It’s an image of Stone, looking sadly down at a plate of unfinished tortillas and eggs. Ugh, guilting him now, huh? Whatever. He shoves his phone into his pocket and makes for the door. 

Robotnik walks into the dining room to find Stone lingering near the couch, waiting for him. Gerty is hovering near the ceiling. 

“Ready to work, Stone?” He calls, striding over, and Stone nods, eyes searching his face. 

“Sir, I’m-” 

Robotnik taps Stone on the nose with his index finger. “Shut up. Ivo, remember? Enough of this sir nonsense, you’re not my assistant anymore. We’re partners.” 

“Partners,” Stone echoes, voice tinged with disbelief. Come on!

“Yes, partners! In crime! In friendship! In many things!” He slings an arm around Stone’s shoulders and starts steering him towards the elevator. Stone smiles up at him slightly and he grins, putting his other hand behind his back and flipping off the badnik. Fuck her, he can be nice.

Chapter Text

It’s a long day of going through the labs and storage level, building a more accurate inventory of their resources. The Doctor wants to expand, create a factory level for mass productions. He has a lot of ideas for his glorious return, from an army of robot hedgehogs to mech suits to a better and larger Crab. A faster flight pod. An upgraded army of badniks, fast enough to keep up with Sonic and co. 

What would normally fill Stone with excitement is instead replaced by crushing dread. Aren’t these all just ways for Ivo to be taken away from him again? A flight pod to be teleported off planet, a mech suit to crush him to death, a Crab to fall off of when it explodes, badniks to be hacked by someone else, an army that can turn against him. 

Stone keeps his worries to himself. This is the consequence for loving a dangerous man, a genius unparalleled. It’s his own confidence in the Doctor that has been shattered. Doctor Robotnik had a 100% mission success rate- had- and then a blue hedgehog appeared and he failed again and again and again, and Stone lost him again and again and again. 

He won’t leave the Doctor’s side, even if it means watching him be killed in new and more tragic ways. The Doctor invents and Stone aids. The Doctor fights and Stone watches. The Doctor dies and Stone is left behind. The Doctor comes back to life and the cycle repeats. 

Maybe this time he’ll die. That would be a nice change of pace. 

It’s hard to put on a happy face with these thoughts swirling in his mind, so he doesn’t. Just nods along as the Doctor goes on about the newest invention, tech, bigger, better, louder, more explosive, stronger, faster, what do you think of nanobots, Stone? 

He looks up from where he’s tracing the grooves in Gerty’s shell. “What?” 

“Nanobots. Have any nanothoughts?” 

Just don’t die again. Please don’t die again. “I’m sure we’d find a good use for them.” 

The Doctor looks at him for a long time before nodding. “Well, I think that’s enough work for today.” Stone stands up and lets Gerty go, ready to head back downstairs and curl up in bed for the night, but the man continues. “And tonight we’re crossing something off your bucket list, Stone.” 

He looks over to see the Doctor grinning as he leans back in his chair. “We’re going to the club!” 

Oh. That… could be fun. It’s been a long time since Stone’s been at the club or danced with the Doctor. 

“I’ll go get ready then.” He turns and heads towards the elevator, hoping he thought of including something club worthy amidst his civilian clothes. 

“Stone?” 

He stops and looks back at Ivo, who looks strangely hesitant. 

“Will you do my makeup?” 

Oh. Stone can feel himself start to blush. “Of course! After I’m done with mine.” 

The Doctor lets him go, and Gerty flies after him before the elevator doors close. He looks up at her as she spins around the ceiling. 

“Tonight will be fun. I wish you could come, but it’s too dangerous.” She begins beeping in rapid succession and Stone reaches up. She flies into his arms at high speed and he lets out an oof. He pats her as the doors open and he walks into the apartment. 

“I’ll buy a cat carrier when I go to the store next. And tomorrow we can go for a walk in the woods. Deal?” Gerty beeps and starts flying around him, brushing up against his back as he heads towards his bedroom. 

Stone goes through his small collection of civilian clothes- should going clothes shopping also go on the list?- and finds an outfit suitable for tonight. A black mesh shirt, black skinny jeans, and a purple leather jacket. He puts it all on and begins rummaging around until he finds his make up pouch tucked into the back of a cabinet drawer.

He likes doing make up for fun, he just rarely ever goes out with it on. Exclusively to gay clubs, really, so he wonders how the Doctor knew about it. 

He does his make up in the bathroom, taking his time on a perfect winged eyeliner. He puts shimmery purple eyeshadow on top, and finishes with black lipstick. He eyes his black nail polish. Does he have enough time? 

Why not? The Doctor can wait. Stone goes back to his room and starts doing his nails while sitting on the bed. His door is open, so he hears Ivo walking down the hall, a soft click as his door closes. 

Robotnik agonizes over his outfit, spending way too long going through a wardrobe he didn’t even pick out himself. What do people even wear to clubs? This was a terrible mistake. Agh, just pick something! 

He changes out of three different outfits and reluctantly goes with his fourth: a black tanktop, dark red pants, black boots. He doesn’t hate it, so it’ll have to be good enough. 

He steps out of his room and goes over to Stone’s. He stands in the doorway and immediately wants to flee. 

Stone looks hot. He’s wearing a mesh shirt underneath a purple leather jacket. His eye makeup frames his brown eyes beautifully, and he has black nail polish that he’s blowing air onto. Robotnik wants to kiss him. Robotnik wants to kill himself. 

“Hi,” he says stupidly, and Gerty lets out several boops and beeps that make it sound like she’s laughing at him. Traitor. 

Stone looks over at him and smiles, black lips curling upwards, and Robotnik smiles sheepishly back. 

“Sit, I’m just waiting for my nails to dry.” Stone pats the space next to him. He walks over and sits down, leaving a few inches between them. He watches Stone shake out his nails and blow on them again. 

The last time Robotnik spied via badnik on Stone when he went to a club he ended up screaming into a pillow and swearing to never do so again. Now he gets to go with Stone himself, already weaseled out a promise to dance together. 

There is, of course, the plan to find out if Stone likes him or not by using alcohol to lower his inhibitions. He hasn’t seen Stone drunk before, it’ll be interesting. 

Stone taps on one of his nails and nods to himself. He stands up and scoots the makeup bag closer. And then he slides onto Robotnik’s lap like he was born to be there. 

“It’ll be easier this way,” Stone says and starts going through the make up bag. Robotnik stares up at him, adjusting to the weight on his thighs and awkwardly settles his hands on Stone’s hips. His thumbs brush against the mesh shirt and he wants to slip his fingers under it. His heart is thundering in his chest. The other man is so close. Fuck the club, he can find out right now. 

Instead, like a coward, he stays still as Stone orders him to close his eyes. There’s a press of a soft make up brush on his eyelid, a sweeping sensation. Stone repeats it on the other side. He opens his eyes again as he feels him shifting. Stone is going through the make up bag again, and Robotnik memorizes his stupidly handsome face. For lack of anything better to do. 

He keeps one eye open as Stone does his eyeliner, grabbing onto Robotnik’s chin to keep his head still. Stone’s eyes narrow when he concentrates; he sticks out his tongue a bit. They’re so close, breaths intermingling. It’s just not fair. He wants to kiss him so badly. But Stone has done this before while tending to Robotnik, it could mean anything. It could mean nothing. 

It takes Stone longer to do his eyeliner, but once he’s done he straightens up and examines him. He slowly grins down at Robotnik, eyes shining. 

“You look magnificent, Ivo. Lipstick?” Robotnik can only nod, his eyes drifting down to Stone’s mouth. He puts away the eyeliner and takes out a red tube. He carefully starts pressing it onto Robotnik’s mouth, coating his lips in a layer of it and then a second. 

Stone clucks his tongue and thumbs at the skin underneath Robotnik’s lower lip, swiping at it. He nods to himself and clambers off of his lap, slides the lipstick back into his makeup bag and zips it up. Robotnik already misses the warmth. 

“Thank you, Stone,” he remembers to say, and stops himself from reaching up and touching his lips. 

“Of course, Doctor. Are you ready to go?” 

He nods and follows him out, closing the door fast on Gerty, whose muffled beeps sound indignant. A few moments later his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see

Bastardnik: 01100110 01110101 01100011 01101011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101

Translates to: fuck you.

Robotnik grins and sends back, ‘robots are not allowed in the club’ 

Bastardnik: 01110111 01101000 01100101 01101110 00100000 01101001 00100000 01100111 01100101 01110100 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101000 01110101 01101101 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100010 01101111 01100100 01111001 00100000 01101001 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101111 01110101 01110100 01110011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100011 01101100 01110101 01100010 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100111 01110010 01100101 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011

Fucking hell. They need another way to communicate other than binary. Can she only message that way or is it some sort of robot supremacist thing? It takes him a minute to translate it to ‘when i get a human body i will outshine you at the club and you will regret this.’ 

A cold chill goes down his spine. When, huh? Not if. When. 

“Doctor?” Stone calls from the open elevator. Robotnik holds up a finger from where he’s trailed to a stop and sends back a middle finger emoji. Before he puts his phone away Gerty messages him with

Bastardnik: 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101001 01110100 01100011 01101000 01101110 01101001 01101011 

Translation: robitchnik. Anger sparks through him. His own creation! Calling him robitchnik! Oh, he’ll make sure she gets a new body alright. Put her in a fucking roomba and make her clean up the lab floors until she learns the meaning of respect. Roombadnik has a certain ring to it. 

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and enters the elevator, determined to deal with this later. Tonight’s about having fun. And investigating Stone. 

They leave the secret lab and get into the car, which was licensed under a fake ID so the airport is never getting it back. Robotnik gets into the driver’s seat and inputs the address of the Rainbow Cattle Company, the only gay club in the area unless they drive back down to San Francisco. It’s still an hour and a half drive, so they’re definitely going to stay the night at a hotel. 

Robotnik puts on his party mix to get in the mood and drives off. 

Stone spends the drive wondering about how tonight will go. Ivo looks very handsome in make up, bold red eyeshadow matching his lipstick. The fact that he doesn’t wear eyeliner everyday should be considered a crime. 

Stone usually spends his time at the club getting progressively drunker, dancing- grinding, really- with hot guys, eventually leading to sloppy makeouts and sometimes, if he looks enough like his boss, a quick blowjob in the bathroom. 

That isn’t happening this time, obviously. He supposes they’ll drink some, talk at the bar, dance- is he going to grind against the Doctor? Stone’s face grows hot at the thought. Well, he certainly isn’t going to refuse… 

Whatever happens, he’ll be with the Doctor and having fun. He’ll be safe. It won’t be like last time he got drunk. Right?

Chapter Text

The club is blasting Todrick Hall music, all sleek and new with fancy LED lighting. Small tables and couches are scattered around the edges of the club, the main attraction being a lit up dance floor with a stage cutting through part of it. The DJ towers above everyone in an elevated pulpit. 

Stone leads Ivo towards the bar. It’s crowded enough where he feels comfortable grabbing the man’s bare arm so he doesn’t lose him. They slide up amidst a group of leather clad men and women playing a shot game. 

The bartender drifts over, a short woman with neon green hair and a glittering nose ring. “Nice Eggman look,” she says to the Doctor, and both of them freeze. 

“I’m… not Eggman.” He lies, and the bartender laughs. 

“Yeah, dude, he super exploded. No, I mean. Sorry, you just have his crazy mustache. There’s a few look-alikes in here, I guess it’s a fad?” 

“A fad.” The Doctor is clearly flattered, puffing up. “Obviously because he was an incredible genius who saved the world.”

“Yeah, and confessed his love for his ‘friend’ Agent Stone during his last broadcast. Our first gay supervillain and hero all wrapped into one.” She clucks her tongue and sighs. “Why couldn’t he have been a dyke.” 

“Okay, first of all, he’s bi, not gay. Second of all,” Ivo glances at Stone, “Uh, I’m pretty sure that was a declaration of friendship-” 

“Well, he’s dead now, so. Unless you’re a medium it’s all speculation anyways.” She shrugs. “What can I get you two?” 

Stone speaks up. “Two slippery nipples, please.” At Ivo’s disgusted look he shrugs. “It’s my favorite shot. You’ll like it.” 

“Two tequila sunrises as well,” Ivo adds, and puts down his card. “Leave the tab open.” 

Stone turns around and scans the club as they wait. No one looks suspicious, but there are three bald white men with bushy brown mustaches. 

Stone doesn’t know what to think of the Doctor’s confession before the end. Any goodness he felt by having real confirmation of their relationship was snuffed out by his death afterwards. Nothing mattered after that point, not even the man’s own words. 

And once he returns he keeps insisting that they’re friends, partners, equals- he clearly doesn’t regret what he said. Which is strange. 

“Your nipples, sir,” says the bartender playfully, and he turns back to see her slide two shot glasses with whipped cream on top towards him. Stone hands one to the Doctor and clinks their glasses together, knocks it back. It’s strong and butterscotchy, and warmth spills into his stomach, his chest. He watches Ivo do the same and begin coughing. He claps him on the back. 

“Not used to shots?” Stone asks. 

“You mean actually tasting my alcohol? No, I am not.” They both push the empty glasses away. 

The bartender soon comes back with their tequila sunrises. Ivo takes his and looks out into the club. 

“So, what do we do now?”

“Well, we drink, and then we can go dance, then drink again, and talk, then dance again, and continue until we call an uber for the hotel.” There’s not much else to the clubbing experience if you’re not trying to score. “Hey, watch this.” 

Stone scoops the cherry out of his drink and pops it in his mouth. He eats the cherry first, then uses his tongue to fold and twist the stem into a loop. Ties the knot by holding the stem in place and sucking in. 

Stone sticks his tongue out to show the Doctor a stem tied in a perfect knot. He looks down, then back up at Stone. It’s hard to tell with the dim lighting, but he could swear the man is blushing. 

“I’m sure that skill is… useful.” 

Stone laughs and plucks out the knot, sets it on the bar counter. ‘It has helped me in the past…” Get into a hot guy's pants. 

And then something cold and wet is being pressed against his lips and he flinches away, only to see it's the Doctor holding out his cherry.

“Do it again,” he insists, eyes intense and almost hungry. Stone doesn’t look away as he opens his mouth and bites down on the cherry, drawing it in. He eats the cherry then repeats the motions: fold, twist, suck. And sticks his tongue out for Ivo to see. 

A bare hand reaches up and takes the stem off Stone’s tongue, flicks it into the crowd. Stone holds his breath. 

“Remember when I…” The Doctor trails off, staring down at his lips, and then three of his bare fingers are being crammed into Stone’s mouth. 

His fingers are cold from the glass. Two press down on Stone’s tongue while the other runs across his left molars. Stone goes still and waits, gently holding Ivo’s hand with his teeth. His heartbeat is thundering in his chest.

“You’re drooling, Stone,” Ivo whispers gleefully. He leans in closer and purrs, “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” 

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, of course, yes. He tries to communicate this with his eyes and the Doctor chuckles, hooks his fingers into his bottom jaw and moves his head up and down himself. He then retreats, fingers caressing Stone’s tongue, and he mourns the loss as those same fingers are wiped on Stone’s jeans. 

“But there are limits, aren’t there? Some lines written in stone?” The Doctor says, voice now melancholy, and Stone takes a deep drink of sweet tequila sunrise. He doesn’t know where Ivo is going with this- some sort of loyalty test? He looks down at his half finished drink and traces the rim.

“I will follow you anywhere, Ivo. And if I can help you in any way, I will. Because you’re Ivo fucking Robotnik, you’re an unparalleled genius and you amaze me everyday. There’s no one else I’d rather stand next to. No one else I’d rather-” die for. He cuts himself off before he finishes and hunches his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Stone. I shouldn’t doubt you.” 

They stay quiet after that, sipping at their drinks while high energy pop music plays. More warmth is building up in his chest. He wants to dance. 

He orders another slippery nipple for himself and pounds it back. The Doctor has finished his tequila sunrise, so he jumps off the stool and holds out his hand. 

“Ready to dance?” 

Ivo’s hand grabs his and he tugs him into the crowd. The bass is thumping loudly, people are jumping up and down to the beat, grinding against each other and shouting over the music. A sea of faces and scantily clad people illuminated by neon lights stretch across the room. Stone finds them some space and begins to move to the rhythm, facing Ivo. 

The Doctor begins to dance, moving his arms and legs fluidly, similarly to how he does during his dance breaks. At first they dance next to each other, staring into each other's eyes. But the next song comes on and Stone gets braver, moves closer, and loops his arms around Ivo’s shoulders. Hands wrap around his hips and he grins. 

It gets hotter and hotter as they begin dancing close, the alcohol definitely going to Stone’s head and making the room spin around them. Or maybe that’s the Doctor actually spinning them. Both? It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Ivo is looking so very handsome in make up and a tank top it’s making Stone want to combust. 

Another song, and they begin dancing faster, in earnest to the beat. The Doctor is so talented, Stone can barely keep up, his eyes on the other man’s face. It’s like a dream come true. 

Another song. Another song, faster, harder. He tries to replicate Ivo’s moves, stumbles once, then twice, and then Ivo is ushering him back to the bar to sit down. 

“You’re amazing, Doctor!” He shouts into the man’s ear over the music, “I love your dancing!” 

They take a seat at the bar and Ivo orders two more slippery nipple shots. It’s a little quieter off of the floor, and Stone looks down to see they’re still holding hands. He smiles as he catches his breath.  

“Glad I still got it,” Ivo says, pleased as he looks over the crowd. 

“It would be impossible for you to be bad at dancing. You’re just- too good!” Stone squeezes his hand tight. Okay, he is definitely sliding past tipsy. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Stone,” the Doctor’s eyes crinkle handsomely as he says it.

The shots come out and Stone drinks his easily, and when the shots don’t taste bad anymore you know you’re well on your way to getting lit. He’s nudged, and he looks over at Ivo, who slides him his shot. 

“I’d rather not have another nipple in my mouth,” he jokes, and Stone shrugs and downs that one too. He’s getting too hot, so he stands up and takes off his leather jacket, drapes it over the stool. 

“Let’s go!” He grabs Ivo’s hand and tugs him back onto the dance floor. They try more complicated dancing, but Stone can’t keep up. A song passes, then another. Too drunk for regrets, he turns around and starts grinding against the Doctor, pressing his body up against him. 

He can feel Ivo freeze up in shock, but after a few moments relaxes into it. A hand grabs onto Stone’s hip, the other sliding around to Stone’s stomach, going underneath the mesh. Stone shivers and throws his body into the music. 

Time passes. Stone is riding a high of being so close to Ivo, the buzz of alcohol and losing yourself to the club scene. 

There are flashes. Ivo’s face, lights bouncing off the ceiling, some truly epic music drops that has him and the people around them hollering. A hand on his stomach trailing up to his chest. Feeling safe for once, not worried about watching his back with the Doctor by his side.

At some point Stone and Ivo are back at the bar. Stone drinks another shot, then another. Talking to Ivo about how much he’s missed this, just letting loose and having fun. Why don’t you go to clubs? The answer is swallowed up by the music, the night. 

Stone stumbles into a bathroom, pisses in a urinal. Someone is sobbing in one of the stalls. 

“It’ll get better!” he shouts, and then he’s washing his hands and staring at himself in the mirror. His make up still looks good, but he swipes at smudged lipstick. 

“My boyfriend just broke up with me,” sniffs the mystery man. “He’s totally going to get the cat, she loves him more but. I’ll miss her.” 

Stone nods and sagely says, “Kill him. Take the cat and his stuff.” 

“What?!” 

“Kill him! Don’t get caught!”

And then he’s dancing back on the dance floor, trying to find the Doctor. Only to keep bumping into bald men with bushy mustaches, which is very confusing especially while very drunk.  

He finds Ivo at the bar, coppery brown hair gleaming in the low light. He hugs him tight. 

“Doctor! I thought I lost you!” 

He says something, but Stone just continues hugging him and nuzzling Ivo’s back. He ends up drinking another shot… maybe? Everything comes in flashes as he slides into being black out drunk. 

Holding Ivo’s hand. Dancing with him on the floor. Don’t kiss him, don’t kiss him. Why? Just don’t, you’ve never kissed him and it won’t be okay. Saying… something. Sitting down. Being tugged into another dance, the Doctor grinning down at him. I love you, I love you, I love you. I want to be with you forever. Please don’t leave me again. 

It’s cold outside of the club, the music is dulled. Stone stares up at the sky, at a destroyed moon, and then back at Ivo, somehow safe and alive next to him. 

It’s a good night. He thinks.