Chapter Text
For at least five minutes, Sonic’s morning was relatively peaceful.
The key word here was ‘relatively,’ though, seeing that he still woke up with a pounding headache, a dry throat that felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, and a queasy stomach that threatened to make him throw up at any moment. Other than those minor, totally insignificant things, however, it was a lovely morning. With the sun filtering in through the window and the birds singing away outside, Sonic had every intent to roll over and go back to bed.
It was a futile effort. His ailments, pesky that they were, at the very least demanded him to go grab a glass of water and brush his teeth. There was the taste of something putrid and sour in his mouth, something a bit more potent than his typical morning breath. It was too distracting for him to sleep through, so with a gargantuan groan, Sonic tore free from the covers and made his way towards the connected bathroom.
Ignoring where his gloves sat in a discarded, half inside-out heap on his bedside dresser, he yawned, arching his back and stretching his hands high above his head as he blearily came to a stop in front of his bathroom sink. Smacking his lips in a halfhearted attempt to regain some moisture in his parched mouth, he fumbled for the light, and when it flashed on, winced at the sudden brightness.
His vision was fuzzy, still clouded with sleep and dreadfully unfocused, but his abysmal state of sight didn’t matter as he fumbled around for his toothbrush and toothpaste. Sonic’s bathroom counter was a disaster, as it always was, but amongst the wreckage he was easily able to find the frayed toothbrush that was long overdue for a replacement along with his tube of toothpaste that he had gotten into the nasty habit of squeezing out from the middle.
Wetting the bristles after applying a dollop of toothpaste onto the brush (or rather, forsaking the correct sequence of events and going abhorrently out of order), Sonic got to work at scrubbing out the unsavory taste of sleep lingering on his tongue.
After a minute of vigorous brushing, he was finally able to blink away the crustiness bedazzled on his eyelids. The hedgehog who stared back at him was a downright mess, with his fur dull and matted in all cardinal directions, his ears drooped against his skull, and purple bags decorating the space under his eyes.
Ugh. He looked terrible, to say the least.
All demeaning thoughts on his outward appearance, disheveled and hideous and a pretty equal match for how he was feeling on the inside, was put to a stop however as something strange caught his eye. And it was here, at around the fifth minute of him having arisen from his slumber of the dead, did the tranquility of his morning shatter into a million pieces as he fixated on something rather alarming that flashed on his finger.
Sonic blinked, and when the glint of gold didn’t disappear, he went so far as to screw his lids shut and rub at his eyes with the back of his hand not holding the toothbrush. It was a cartoonish display, and ultimately pointless because as he lowered his hand, he noticed that it was still there.
And was it, you might be wondering?
It was a ring.
And not just any ring, Sonic realized with mounting horror as he set the toothbrush down and held the offending hand up to the mirror. His jaw dropped in stupefaction, the frothy remnants of the toothpaste that coated the inside of his mouth and peeked over his lips left unattended.
It was a wedding ring.
While beyond baffling, it was the only logical conclusion Sonic could make. On his left hand, hugging the fourth finger, the ring finger, the location was damning enough. But on top of that, the ring was a thick, gold band. No adornments, no filigree, no fancy gems to decorate the metal and indicate that it was, perhaps, something other than a wedding band.
Perplexed, Sonic shifted his gaze so that he was no longer looking at his hand through the reflection in the mirror, but rather, with his own two eyes. Twisting his palm around and reveling in how it caught the light, he was struck by the weight and glisten of it. He didn’t know much about jewelry or precious metals (or much of anything, to be completely honest), but what he did know that this was no cheap replica. The ring on his finger was pure, genuine gold.
But how did it get there? Sonic frowned, his eyes thinning as he continued to idly scrutinize the band while his mind raced.
And as he searched the depths of his brain, dusting off forgotten corners and poking his nose into hidden crevices, he was struck with a sudden and rather shocking realization.
Sonic had no memories of the previous night.
Not a single one.
Abruptly feeling a wave of dizziness overcome him, vertigo that was equal parts induced by the hypnotic flashing of the ring as well as the shock of having an entire night of memories vacant and gone without a single trace, Sonic began to sway on his feet, and before he fell over completely, he lurched forward, gripping at the edges of the bathroom counter. The metal ring made a harsh clacking sound as it collided with the smooth marble surface, but Sonic couldn’t bring himself to care as he found himself instead fixated on the fact that he was on the verge of hyperventilation.
Because this never happened. He never just… forgot things like this. And the longer he thought, the harder he scoured his mental files all filled with blank sheets of paper, he was able to catch snippets. Not of anything inherently useful, mind you, but enough to set the stage.
The plan had been to meet up with his friends and go out for drinks. Let off some steam, party a bit to celebrate the end of the week in a casual, contained manner that was fun, but ultimately nothing too crazy.
Except clearly that hadn’t happened. Sonic had gotten more than just a little drunk.
He had blacked out.
Sonic let out a derisive scoff, one that was directed solely towards himself due to his apparent inability to know his limits, even after all these years. Because seriously, when was the last time he had blacked out an entire night like this? Since he was a plucky teenager? Granted, those times were a scant few years behind him, but still! This hadn’t happened in ages.
And even when he had used to go a little overboard and black out while drinking, he had never woken up with a damn wedding ring on his finger!
Sonic focused on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, a silly technique Tails had insisted he utilize whenever he push himself a bit too hard on his races and runs. Something about it being scientifically proven to blah blah blah, yada yada yada… (see, Sonic hadn’t even bothered to remember why it was useful, just that it was), but anyways, the point was, it had helped him regulate his breathing in the past, and it was currently working in calming him down just a smidge.
Enough for him to look at his face in the mirror, realize that he was hungover to a debilitating degree with clumped, messy fur, bloodshot eyes, and a pounding headache to top it all off, and that in addition to his abhorrent condition, he had quite the predicament on his hands.
(Surprisingly, or maybe it really wasn’t, the fact that he had actually gone and gotten married of his own volition was not the first assumption he came up with.)
Because instead, the first explanation his mind conjured up was: Had he stolen it? Had he really gotten so drunk, that he plucked a wedding band right off some poor fool’s finger and slipped it on his own?
Sonic immediately shook his head at this. No way, no chance in hell. Just because he blacked out and probably got a little rowdy didn’t mean he just turned into a thief. He wasn't Rouge, that wasn’t who he was; he still had morals at the end of the day, so with finality, Sonic crossed out the chance of theft from his mind.
But just because he hadn’t stolen it, perhaps he had been holding it for someone else? Maybe he had found it on the floor, and his heart going out to the unfortunate soul who had lost a valuable symbol of their love, decided to hold on to it by keeping it safe on his finger? Rather than shoving it into his quills where it would have easily been lost amongst the mess of rings that loosely comprised his wallet?
Sonic shook his head again however, because that still didn’t explain why the wedding band had found its way onto his ring finger on his left hand, no less. It could have gone onto any one of his fingers, so why that one? Yes, there was something significant about the placement, something undeniable.
Which led him to the third and final possibility.
That he had actually willingly, voluntarily, wholeheartedly chosen to get married last night.
He wanted to believe that it wasn’t what had happened. That it couldn’t be what had happened. However, as he continued to study the ring, looking down at where he still gripped the counter so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, the damn thing gleamed brighter in what Sonic could only assume was affirmation. Something in his sinking heart, in his nonexistent treasury of memories lit up at this conclusion, and he knew it to be the undeniable truth.
Sonic felt bile rise in the back of his throat, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was due to his severe hangover or the terrifying fact that he was presumably a married man.
The mere thought of it was enough to make his knees buckle, and his grip on the counter consequently intensified. He wasn’t in a relationship, not even partaking in something that could loosely be described as dating or a talking stage, and he certainly didn't have a crush on anybody, so who the hell could he have possibly skipped all those steps with?
And not only that, but who even possessed enough charisma to… to… seduce him into something like this?! Because seriously, Sonic was supposed to be the irresistible flirt, that was literally his whole thing outside of being fast and blue and defeating Eggman whenever the time called for it! Not buckling and folding to whatever sap gave him the right attention at the right time!
Sonic’s eyes flickered back to the ring, and then immediately had to dart away with how it offensively flashed back at him. Taunting him, regaling him with the fact that it contained the memories and knowledge that he lacked, and refused to divulge a single one. Ugh. Stupid thing.
His breath catching in his throat, Sonic straightened with resolve. No. He was not, could not be married. It was a life event he had sworn of years ago, deciding that his nomadic and free lifestyle would never be suitable for being tethered down to someone. Because who could keep up with him, both in mind, body, and spirit? No one, that was who, so why bother settling? Holding himself back, as well as dragging some poor creature stumbling through his dusty wake, desperately trying but unable to keep up?
Yes, Sonic was not marriage material. And no one out there was nearly enough to keep up with him. So, he was going to put a stop to this whole debacle before it had the chance to spiral further from his control.
His shoulders squared and his jaw set, Sonic lifted the hand donning the band up to eye level. He glared at it in challenge, his nose scrunching with disdain as he silently tried to convey I’m not scared of you, because even though he totally could have said it out loud, talking to a golden ring would be kind of weird and lame.
And so, he moved on to the next step.
It was time to remove the offensive adornment.
The thumb and pointer finger of his opposite hand lifted skyward in a theatrical display of intent, all before lowering down onto the ring. Clamping it from the side, preparing to slide it off with ease. And do what with it, Sonic hadn’t thought that far ahead, but perhaps tossing it into the depths of his sock drawer (where all fancy, ceremonial jewelry went to die) would be his best option.
However, he would never get that far, as the finger and thumb on his right hand pinching the circumference of the ring froze as a sudden sense of wrongness washed over him.
Conflicted, Sonic hesitated, torn between ripping the wedding band off his finger and allowing it to stay. Because while he didn’t know who he was married to, and the entire situation was laughable because he had never possessed the intent to marry anybody, regardless of how well he got along with someone, it still felt backwards to just… take it off. The ring symbolized that he was inexplicably tied to somebody, and whoever that somebody was, they deserved more than their partner discarding the ceremonial representation of holy matrimony like it was nothing more than garbage.
Sonic’s head swam, and releasing his hold on the ring to clutch at his temple, he let out a moan. Oof. Garbage. That was exactly how he felt.
He intended to remove the ring. Fully and wholeheartedly. But maybe… maybe now wasn’t the right time. Not when he was still recovering and could hardly think straight, not when he felt like he could vomit at any given moment, not when he hadn’t the faintest idea of what had happened to get him into this mess in the first place.
(Sonic didn’t know why, but he felt a sense of relief at leaving the ring on his finger. Perhaps it was his permeating sense of nausea speaking, yes, that would make far more sense than some asinine sense of connection to a person whose identity was still a mystery to him.)
He paused at this, contemplating the fact that being married was one thing, but having no idea who it was with was another. That his special someone was out there, and he hadn’t the slightest clue who they were.
And Sonic intended to figure it out.
Despite the way that his head pounded and his brain felt like it was bursting out the seams of his skull, Sonic exited his bathroom in a flourish, not even bothering to primp his outward appearance into something a bit more socially acceptable. He had a mission after all, a goal to complete, and now that his mind was set on it, he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by anything.
Sonic faltered as he reentered his bedroom and caught sight of his gloves sitting atop his bedstand though, knowing that he should pull them on, but not entirely knowing how to wear them with the ring on his finger. He knew it was custom to wear rings over the gloves, so that marital statuses would be visible to others, and yet….
He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he wanted this to remain private. It probably wouldn’t be in his best interest to publicize it to the whole damn world that not only was he a complete and total lame-o who couldn’t handle his alcohol and still blacked out at the grown age of being in his early twenties, but he had also waltzed off and gotten married to someone while under the influence, and on top of that, he had no idea who it was. Sonic might not have been interested in marriage, but he also wasn’t a heartless monster who wanted to make a big spectacle of rebuking his anonymous partner’s affections, so with that in mind, he fastened his glove over his hand. Covering the ring, tucking it away so that it remained his dirty little secret.
It would have made more sense to remove the ring entirely, but once again, that crawling sense of wrongness prickled at his skin, and not wanting to question or dwell on it, Sonic figured that the wedding band could remain concealed under the fabric of his glove. Clutched close to his body, his pulse warming the soft metal, yet conclusively hidden from the public eye. He didn’t want to leave it out of his touch or sight, and though the sentiment was bewildering, Sonic chalked it up to his mental fog as he finally exited his bedroom and walked into the hallway.
Where he paused in utter uncertainty. How on Earth did he recover memories that didn’t even exist in the first place?
The solution came to him instantly. He needed to talk to his friends. The ones that were with him last night; surely one of them had witnessed him get married. And if no one had witnessed it, then perhaps he could at least get some clues and be pointed in the right direction of what tomfoolery had gone down in his oblivious state.
His solution, however, came with a drawback. He had no idea who he had met up with. His recollection ended right as he had reached the venue… and even the name and location of that eluded him.
From behind him, Sonic’s bed called his name, promising him the chance to ignore his deplorable predicament and just sleep the hangover off like he so desperately wanted to do.
Stubbornly, Sonic shook the malaise from his mind. No. His curiosity and desire to discover what had happened was far more important. He owed it to his partner, whoever they were, wherever they were out there.
He needed to make a list of names. Perhaps then, he could narrow his scope and figure out what to do next.
Gritting his teeth against his splitting headache, Sonic made his way down the stairs. The house he shared with Tails was small, a cramped thing that might have been spacious if they were a bit tidier. Classifying it as a two-story cottage was almost a more apt descriptor, and their home had been in absolute shambles when Sonic had purchased it nearly a decade ago with the money he had accumulated after swiftly becoming a public figure and world-renowned hero. He might not have been a salaried businessman sequestered behind a desk, slaving away at some stable albeit mind-numbing nine-to-five, but he still did garner some income from his heroic charity and the various press, merchandise, and other random odd-jobs he completed as side-quests, so he had used it to establish a homebase of sorts. Tails had been young at the time, and though Sonic was inherently a free spirit who loved to wander and travel, his younger brother hadn’t possessed those traits in the slightest.
Fixing it up into something inhabitable had been a project Tails had undertaken with gusto, because even though house remodeling wasn’t in line with the usual contraptions he toiled over, it had posed a thrilling challenge for him. And despite the fact that it hadn’t been properly maintained in years, it was still home for the both of them, more or less.
Though with that being said, Sonic was gone more often than he was there, which made it kind of puzzling as to how he had managed to stumble and find his way home the previous night. Typically, when he drank himself into a state of stupor such as that, he would wake up on someone’s couch or worse, in their bed. Stranger or friend, it was rare for Sonic to make it back to his room after an evening of partying.
Perhaps, someone had brought him home?
Sonic shook his head as he wandered into the kitchen, taking note of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink that had been sitting there for a week. He should probably wash those at some point, but at yet another reminding stab of pain from somewhere within his mind, he waved the responsibility off. He would take care of it later, perhaps in yet another week’s time if he was lucky.
But anyways. He had wound up home, somehow. Which meant that unless Sonic had possessed the wherewithal to give someone directions on how to get him back to the house (unlikely, given his propensity to crash at whoever’s place he could find), the person who had brought him home was someone who was close enough in his social circle to already have known where he lived.
Someone, Sonic thought to himself as he grabbed an empty glass from the cabinet, filled it up with tap water, and began guzzling it in an attempt to stave off his searing headache, I’m potentially married to.
The odds were high, and it made sense. Sure, there was still a possibility that he was married to a complete stranger, and what a goddamn hoot that would be (full sarcasm intended here), but logic pointed toward it being someone that he knew. And if it wasn’t, well, perhaps one of his friends who had been there would be cognizant enough to tell him what had happened.
Finishing off the water and placing the empty cup on top of the pile of dishes in the sink, Sonic turned to fish a pen and a pad of paper from out of the kitchen drawer. The word ‘Groceries’ was printed boldly above the vacant lines extending down the length of the notepad, and with his supplies in hand, Sonic sat down at the kitchen table with a huff…
…and stared blankly at the empty paper.
Huh. Now that he was here, he hadn’t the slightest idea who he could have possibly married. Several faces popped in his head, but each was rapidly discarded as Sonic couldn’t even recall an iota of a romantic history with anyone, not even amongst his group of friends. Sure, he was flirty here and there with nearly everybody, as was his nature, but none of it meant anything and surely wouldn’t result in him drunkenly tying the knot with one of them.
…Right?
Sonic grimaced, and figured that since he had absolutely nothing to go off of, that it would be in his best interest to just start listing every name that popped in his head.
Knuckles.
His features tightened as he scrawled the name onto the paper, his handwriting a characteristic mess. There were many opinions he had about it being Knuckles, but swallowing his reservations, he moved on.
Blaze.
Silver.
Amy.
Rouge.
The list extended on, and right as Sonic had finished writing out the names of the three members of Team Chaotix, he was rather rudely interrupted.
“Heya Sonic, what’re you writing?”
With a sharp, totally-not-inconspicuous gasp, Sonic slammed his pen down on the counter, nearly jumping out of his seat as he scrambled to arc a forearm across the notepad to conceal what he was doing. While the contents of his scrawling were completely harmless, quite literally just being a list of names, he didn’t want to take any chances. Tails was a hyper-intelligent genius after all, and the last thing Sonic needed at the moment was for his little brother to discover that he had become so drunk the previous night, that he had gone ahead and gotten himself hitched. Just the mere thought of it was enough for Sonic to feel his cheeks prickle and heat with shame.
Shaking his embarrassment away as he realized that Tails was looking at him expectantly, a hint of perplexion crossing his face as he apprehended Sonic’s suspicious and unwieldly splaying across the table, he was quick to bark out a choppy response. “I’m just, uh, you know!” He gulped. “Writing…?”
Tails quirked his head to the side, his inquisitive gaze studying the paper Sonic so adamantly covered with his arm. “Is that a list?”
“Um… yes! It is.” Seeing the top of the paper peeking out, the printed word catching his eye, Sonic was quick on his feet with a coverup. “A grocery list. So I can go grocery shopping. Yes. That’s what this is.”
Tails hummed at this, seeming to accept Sonic’s answer as he nodded in approval and turned to start grabbing things from the pantry and fridge, presumably to fix himself a bowl of cereal. “Oh! If that’s the case, can you grab a few things for me when you go?”
Sonic had slumped in relief at Tails’ acquiescence after he had turned away, but as he glanced back towards Sonic, he was quick to snap back into his attentive posture. “Uh, yeah! Sure buddy! What do you need?”
(Sonic tried not to cringe internally at the fact that he had possessed absolutely zero intention to go grocery shopping that day and would now have to tack the obnoxious errand onto his already frayed and haggard state, but he digressed. Tails was listing out a bunch of random food items they were apparently lacking, and realizing it would probably behoove him to record it, Sonic got to scribbling.)
“Okay, let me just… write those things down.”
Distantly recording what Tails had requested, making sure to put it far at the bottom of the paper so that there was a ravine of space maintained between the two lists, Sonic paused as he caught sight of the names he had written down once more.
Was there a possibility….
That it could be....
Tails...?
Sonic immediately winced. No. No way in hell, that would be beyond weird. Twisted, deranged, insane… Tails was his best friend and brother. There was no amount of alcohol that could ever, not in a million trillion gazillion years, result in them deciding to get married. It simply wasn’t possible.
However, as quickly as Sonic was to dismiss the idea, did he simultaneously hesitate. Because who was to say what the conditions of the marriage were? Perhaps he had gotten so drunk, he had devolved into that typical bro-speak he usually toted when blasted into belligerence. The type of bro-speak that went along the lines of ‘Yo bro, you’re like, my absolute homie, I love you so much bro we should like, totally get married for the tax benefits as like, bros, bro.”
Sonic worried at his lower lip. Damn. That was something he would say to Tails. Oh geez.
He hung his head in shame for a moment, gathering the gall to speak. This was going to be terrible, he already knew it.
And just as expected, as he took a deep breath before asking his reluctant question, it was, in fact, quite terrible.
“Hey Tails…” he began slowly and timidly, “…where were you last night?”
Tails settled into the chair across the table from him, some of the milk in his cereal bowl splashing out over the side as he arched a brow at this. “Where was I?” he parroted. “More like, where were you?”
Sonic could only laugh meekly. “Um…?” he offered pathetically, and thankfully for him, Tails continued talking.
“To be quite honest, I was surprised to find you here this morning.”
“Is that… so?”
“Yeah, I got home late last night. Like, past midnight late, and you weren’t here.” Tails shrugged, picking up his spoon and dunking it into the bowl before taking a hearty bite. “I assumed you crashed at Knuckles’ or something.”
Sonic perked up at this; a clue, and one of the names on his list. “Knuckles, you say?” he ventured cautiously, doing a very poor job of concealing just how interested he was in this granule of intel.
Tails, somehow oblivious to Sonic’s abrupt change in demeanor, nodded. “Yeah. That’s who you said you were meeting up with when you left last evening.”
“I said that?” Sonic questioned doubtfully, before quickly coughing into the back of his hand and attempting to lower the pitch of his tone into something a bit more casual and nonchalant. “I mean, yeah, of course I said that, duh.” His body posture loosened with an easy shrug, right before tensing up minutely as he followed up with a tentative, “But um… was there anyone else that I met up with?”
“I wouldn’t know, I didn’t go with you.”
“So if you weren’t with me,” Sonic said slowly, a prickle of hope blossoming within him at the chance that he hadn’t encountered Tails at all the previous night, “where were you, then?”
Tails paused mid-chew in surprise at Sonic’s question, before swallowing. “Don’t you remember?”
Sonic nearly snorted out loud. No, as a matter of fact, he didn’t remember. That was kind of the whole issue at the moment… well, that and the condemning wedding band lying dormant beneath the fabric of his glove. Which happened to directly tie in with his lack of memories. It was kind of a whole slew of issues plaguing him at the moment, and they were all interconnected.
“Uh, remind me?”
“I went over to watch a movie marathon with Charmy. The entire trilogy of his favorite movie series. You know, the new one about the aliens living on Earth? He insisted that we needed to watch them all in one sitting, but he fell asleep halfway through the first.” Tails loosely shrugged at this. “Oh well, his loss.”
As Tails spoke, Sonic couldn’t help but relish in his sense of relief that flowered into a full-grown bloom. Because oh my Gaia, thank goodness that it isn’t Tails. Like, I was trying to be normal and optimistic about being married to him, but now that I know that it’s not him, I can safely say that he is quite possibly the last person on this list I would want it to be.
But then again, if it had been Tails, his entire conundrum would have been solved right then and there. Both of them laughing it off easily, filing it away as yet another treasured memory in their extensive vault of shared adventures, right before sauntering on over to the courthouse to get it annulled. Easy, simple, and straightforward.
Alas, it was not to be. Beneath his stiff forearm, the list of names burned against his skin.
In front of him, as Sonic mused about the benefits and drawbacks of his spouse not being Tails, his best friend continued talking. “Vector and Espio stayed awake for most of it. But that’s because they were talking through most of the movies.” He swirled his spoon around the soup of milk and cereal, laughing good-naturedly into the bowl. “I wanted to tell them that it was poor theater etiquette, but then again, Charmy was snoring throughout the entire thing, so I just let them be.”
“The rest of the Chaotix were there?” The bloom of joy transcended into a massive bouquet, his elation worming its way into his tone as it took everything in Sonic’s power to prevent a colossal smile from spreading across his face. Because not only was Charmy solidly in the D-Tier of potential spouses (for a myriad of reasons ranging from his younger age to the fact that he was a bee), but Sonic also wasn’t keen on it being Espio or Vector, either. Nothing against either of them, they both made great friends and allies when world peace went hayward, except, well… Vector’s voice was incredibly obnoxious and grating, and Espio was, well, Espio. Nice enough, but in the grand scheme of things, terribly boring for Sonic’s taste if he was being completely candid and picky.
“Yep, we ordered pizza and stayed in. It was a pretty fun evening.” There was a pause, and so enraptured in his relief that he wasn’t married to Tails, as well as the rest of the Chaotix on top of that, Sonic failed to detect the subtle shift in the atmosphere, not until Tails asked, “So… what did you do last night?”
Suddenly in the limelight, and having no feasible answer, Sonic struggled to act innocent. “Oh, you know,” he said loosely. “Stuff…?”
“Stuff?” Tails repeated, evidently intrigued, which was unfortunate because that had been the exact opposite response of what Sonic had been hoping for.
And so, he doubled down. “Yep, stuff.”
“Anything interesting happen?”
Yes, and it’s in the form of a suspicious golden band I’m wearing on my finger right now. “Uh, no, not particularly, no.”
The lie was obvious in his voice, and as Tails frowned, his face scrunching up with the obvious intent to question Sonic on what was going on and why he was acting so weird, he was interrupted as his communicator started ringing.
Tails lurched in his seat at the sudden intrusion, his attention shifting to where his communicator blared a tinny tune. “Hold on, it’s Charmy. I must have forgotten something at his place last night,” he said, excusing himself from the table and turning away from Sonic to accept the call. “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, okay! I want to hear all about the crazy stuff you got up to last night!”
It was a great request and all, however, it was ultimately for naught.
Because Sonic was already out the door.
Fleeing, escaping at the opening he knew he was beyond lucky to have been graced with, Sonic took a moment to gather himself in their front yard. He didn’t mean to lie to Tails, and he did fully possess the intent to inform him of all that had happened once he figured it out, but in the meantime, his marital curse was his burden to bear, all on his lonesome.
So with that, his list in one hand and the wedding ring burning under his glove in the other, Sonic set out to discover the truth of what had happened the previous night.