Chapter Text
Sonic comes back and he is fine.
Completely and totally fine.
Not that his friends believe that.
The concerned looks, the cautious questions, the air of disbelief at his reassurance…
Well, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t annoy him.
Seriously, he’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be? He was only on the Death Egg for six months, and yeah, it was six months under Eggman’s thumb, enduring whatever he and Infinite chose to throw at him to pass the time and entertain themselves, and sure, it was frustrating to just sit there, unable to help, unable to run, arms and legs bound together with something he couldn’t break, watching the planet he loves so much slowly die under Eggman’s reign while his friends fought for their lives-
But really, how different is any of that to the stuff he’s already been through? It’s not like he’s never been hurt or captured before. Even if normally it doesn’t take so long to bust out after he’s been captured, and usually when he’s hurt he at least still has freedom to move and fight.
So maybe the small details are different, but it’s still only small details, not anything important. Nothing happened to him up there he hasn’t survived a million times before.
… Well. Almost nothing.
Infinite’s methods were… new.
But Sonic always handles everything thrown at him and comes out the other end just fine, so why would that change now?
Sure, maybe he’s noticed he’s a little stiffer, a little slower, than he used to be, and maybe his aquaphobia is worse than it was before he was captured. Maybe sometimes he loses his breath for no reason. Maybe sometimes his heart pounds and his palms sweat and his spines bristle and his back crawls and his legs feel bound and-
But that’ll go away. This isn’t the first time the intensity of his aquaphobia has fluctuated, it’ll probably settle back down to its usual level soon enough, and he’s just stiff from being locked up for so long. A few stretches and runs and he’ll be good as new. He enjoys stretching almost as much as he enjoys running; the subtle pull of his muscles, the test of flexibility, the anticipation in his veins at the warm-up to a good run.
Lately it’s had the bonus effect of dealing with the whole legs feeling bound thing. So. Two big thumbs up for stretching.
And when he runs it doesn’t matter if his heart is pounding. That’s what it’s always done when he runs.
So see, all these new inconveniences are fine. No biggie. They’ll go away, and in the meantime he has ways to drown them out.
… Except for the breathlessness.
He… hasn’t figured out how to get rid of that one yet. Stretching doesn’t work, and he can’t fool himself into thinking he’s out of breath from running; his stamina is better than that.
It’s annoying, because it always happens when nothing is happening. When he’s standing still. When he’s with his friends. When he sees Tails asleep on the couch or at his workbench, looking a little too still, and all he can think is-
Is nothing, because it isn’t a big deal.
So Infinite was a little heavy on the illusions, so what? It’s nothing worth lingering on now it's over, and really, was it even that bad to begin with, or was it just the unfamiliar method catching him by surprise? Sonic is willing to place his bets on the latter; by the end of his captivity that little party trick was getting old. Like, seriously, how much is it to ask for some new material? Even Eggman ventures out and tries something new every once in a while, it wouldn’t kill Infinite to expand his horizons a bit, not that he ever listened to Sonic’s critique.
(Sometimes his breath freezes, and his thoughts run, and the world feels off, and he wonders if Infinite has found new material after all. If this is his new material.)
(But that’s dumb. And if he tells anyone about that, they’ll keep giving him strange looks, keep asking concerned questions, keep not believing him when he says he’s fine.)
(So it doesn’t matter. The feeling goes away eventually anyway.)
(He hopes that’s a good thing.)
So he’s fine. It happened, and it kinda sucked, but it’s over now, and he’s fine.
Completely. And totally. Fine.
He’s running when the breathlessness hits this time.
And it hits hard, and fast, and he’s already running because his feet felt bound, and now he’s dizzy, he’s going to crash into something if he keeps going-
With a frustrated growl, Sonic skids to a stop. He doubles over, hands on his knees, eyes screwed shut and panting for air that doesn’t want to come. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to breathe deep enough; it’s always just out of reach, so tantalisingly close, and whatever he does draw in is never enough, too little, too shallow, and he’s trying so hard to compensate but there’s a tightness in his chest that won’t make room for him to breathe-
He pants, pants, shallower than he should, but he can’t help it, there isn’t enough air, and he’s on the surface but he’s breathing so little he might as well be underwater - maybe he is, they’ve played this game with him before-
Ragged exhale, desperate inhale, and he - he-
Flowers.
He inhales.
He… he can smell flowers.
Sonic pries his eyes open, registering for the first time the blooming field he’s standing in.
That’s all it takes for him to drop to his knees and bury his face in the flowers. He takes a deep breath, focusing, and yes, the floral scent is strong, strong enough to fill his lungs and finally unwind that pesky tightness.
He breathes. Floral scent. It becomes a little easier to believe he really is here and not underwater. Infinite’s illusions were good, they preyed on just about every sense that exists, but not smell. Never smell. No surprise there; Infinite’s mask probably hid smells from him, and how could he replicate something he couldn’t experience, encased in metal and closed off from nature as he was?
No, he never could replicate smell.
Sonic was oh-so careful to never reveal that weakness. It was the only thing that helped him tell up from down, left from right, reality from illusion. He could only tell he wasn’t really staring at his worst nightmare when there was no stench of gore or blood.
Absence of smell is not the most reliable tell, though, so this… this is better. If he’s going to smell something, it’s best for it to be flowers, or anything from nature, instead of the… nastier options he faced on the Death Egg. This grounds him, nose twitching with every inhale; he isn’t as great at naming flowers as he’d like to be, so he can’t put a name to every individual scent, but the fact that it’s distinctly floral and wild and free and real is enough to centre him again.
Sonic doesn’t know how long he’s there, breathing in the flowers, but it definitely feels like he gets himself back under control faster than usual. Before long the tightness in his chest is almost completely gone, his heart rate only slightly elevated, and his wrists and ankles don’t itch or irritate as much as they did earlier. His mind is quieter, too, no longer trying to convince him of a fake reality. Difficult to believe everything is fake when the flowers smell so real.
With a deep breath, Sonic pushes himself back to his feet. He isn’t dizzy anymore, nor is he panting, all good signs. These days it takes forever to regain control after he loses his breath, but the flowers have done wonders at calming him, and he feels ready to run again to shake off the last dredges of weirdness clinging to him like webs.
Sonic stretches, relishing in the pull of his muscles, in having his feet apart, free, unable to be bound. He raises his arms to the sky, inhales one last time, and a smile slips onto his face as he continues his run.
Stretches remind him his feet are free, running gives his heart an excuse to pound, and flowers give him his breath back.
Noted.
Annoyingly, his new hack doesn’t make the breathlessness go away completely. It provides a fix, and he’s grateful for that, but he’d rather stop it from happening at all.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be that simple. His breath still vanishes, his heart still pounds, his spines still prickle and his palms still sweat for no reason at random times, and all Sonic can do is his best to make it all stop as soon as possible, but the problems always come back. It always happens again, and he always wrestles himself back under control, until it rears its head again and he shoves it down again. An endless tug of war between Sonic and his body, which seems so determined to rebel lately.
But Sonic has never been one to back down from a challenge, and this is no exception. So when his ankles are tight he’ll stretch, and when his heart races he’ll run, and when his breath stops or the world doesn’t feel real he’ll find the nearest wildflower field and bury his face in it until he pulls himself together.
All while doing his best to keep these weird little fits hidden from his friends.
Because he’s fine, but if they see him do any of these things, they won’t believe that, and Sonic doesn’t have the patience to convince them otherwise. He isn’t going to waste his breath, especially not when he keeps losing it. Best to just keep it all under wraps until whatever is going on with him fixes itself.
It’s… harder than he’s comfortable admitting. He hates excusing himself whenever he starts feeling weird, hates the way it feels like running away, so he tries to tamp it down and ignore it instead of leaving to ride it out somewhere private, but being surrounded by people and pretending his skin isn’t crawling makes his spines prickle even more with the phantom sensation of eyes on him, scrutinising, picking apart everything he says and does.
… Kinda like how Eggman liked to poke and prod at him with all those nasty tools while staring at him with an analytical gaze, always scanning for a weakness to exploit that Sonic refused to give him-
Stretch. Run. Flowers.
Phantom eyes on him, kinda like how everything felt like a phantom sometimes on the Death Egg, every sight and sound and sensation, until even his sense of balance was off, struggling to adapt to a phantom environment-
Stretch. Run. Flowers.
He’s always trusted his body. Always trusted his senses and instincts. They’ve never led him astray, never steered him wrong. He trusts his reflexes will keep up with anything his mind can’t, trusts his feet already know where to land before he does. Surely, surely, if he’s reacting like this now, bristling and tense and wary, instincts screaming danger danger danger, there must be a reason for it, even if Sonic can’t see it, especially now Infinite has proven how pointless it is to trust what he sees over what his intuition is telling him-
Stretch. Run. Flowers.
He’s fine.
Evade his friends if he thinks he’s gonna feel weird for a few minutes. Ride it out if it catches him by surprise, or find a subtle way to excuse himself without drawing attention to the wrong things if he really can’t hold it together. Smile, stretch, run, flowers, smile, no need to worry his friends.
The next time it happens is around Shadow.
“Going my way?”
“Don’t you ever go away?”
“Aww, don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me.”
“Why are you even here?” Shadow demands, trudging through the underbrush with a scowl. “Don’t you have friends to annoy?”
“I don’t spend every minute with my friends,” Sonic says, jogging beside Shadow. Backwards. He likes the way Shadow’s brow pinches when he jogs backwards, and the way his eyes keep flicking to his feet. Probably hoping Sonic will trip. Sonic likes to pretend it’s because he doesn’t want him to trip. “Went out for a run, ran into some stray badniks heading this way. Looked like they were in a biiiiiig rush, so I’m following the trail to see where they’re goin’ and why.” He hops expertly over a tree branch and delights in Shadow’s eye twitch. “Your turn.”
“Rouge got some intel about suspicious activity in this area.”
“So is this reconnaissance or are you wrecking the place?”
“Whichever I feel is necessary. So stay out of my way.”
“Hey, I was here first, so if anything, it’d be you in my way.”
“You were not here first.”
“Was too.”
“Were not.”
“Was too.”
“I’m not playing this game with you.”
“What I’m hearing is I win.”
Shadow’s fists clench. “You are the most infuriating person I have ever met.”
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’re going to fall if you keep walking backwards like that.”
“I’m not gonna fall, I do this all the time.” He hops over another branch. Shadow’s eye twitches again. “See?”
“Listen, you might just be here to entertain yourself, but some of us have work to do. For the last time, go away. I’m busy.”
“And let you have all the fun? Pass.”
“Sonic-”
“Listen, I’ve got a better idea.” He spins around so he’s no longer walking backwards, but still by Shadow’s side. “Why don’t we scout out the place together? I mean, neither of us are gonna leave, so we might as well do it together. You finish your mission, I screw with Eggman, and we both get what we want. And piss Eggman off in the process.” He smirks tauntingly; he knows exactly how to sweeten the deal. “Unless you’re worried I’ll kick more ass than you.”
Shadow snorts. “Not even in your dreams.”
“Prove it, then. Whoever breaks the most bots wins.”
To a stranger, Shadow’s face is as passive and disinterested as ever, but it’s impossible for Sonic to miss the familiar spark in his eyes, the one that always burns bright as a flame whenever he’s presented with a challenge.
“Fine,” he says, and Sonic barely suppresses his victorious fist pump. “Just try not to pout too much when I win.”
“Only if you don’t brood too much when I win.”
“You won’t.”
“We’ll see about that.”
They walk a little faster now the challenge has been issued. Shadow powers forward with single-minded determination, and Sonic keeps pace with him with a pep in his step, energised by the competition. Who can blame him? He doesn’t get to hang out with Shadow very often. Their paths don’t cross as much as he’d like, and when they are in the same place, it’s usually in some kind of group setting Rouge has dragged Shadow to, and Shadow spends the whole time pressed against the wall waiting for a chance to slip away. Time for just the two of them is sparse, and Sonic wants to enjoy it while he can; he hasn’t raced Shadow in months, and he’s itching for a good challenge. The last time they did something like this was a few days before Infinite-
His stomach twists.
Nope. Don’t go there, not in front of people, and especially not in front of Shadow.
His ankles itch with phantom bindings. A dramatic hop over a large root eases it, but it doesn’t vanish entirely, and subtly rotating his ankle between steps doesn’t help at all.
It’s fine. Whatever. It’s distracting, but not so bad it’ll throw him off his game; even if they get ambushed, Sonic has fought in worse conditions. In fact, an ambush would probably be great for getting his mind off the itching.
Yeah, he could really, really go for a good fight right now. If they weren’t about to screw with Eggman’s plans, Sonic would pester Shadow into a spar.
“You’re oddly quiet,” Shadow says.
“Huh?”
“We’ve been walking for a while, and you haven’t said a word. Normally it’s impossible to get you to shut up.”
“Hey, I can be quiet when I wanna.” He didn’t speak for ages when he first started fighting Eggman. Granted, that was involuntary, but still!
“You never want to.”
“And yet the one time I am quiet you don’t like that, either.”
“I didn’t say that-”
“No, no, it’s too late.” Sonic shoots him a wide grin. The itching in his ankles is easier to ignore with the familiar thrill of annoying Shadow distracting him. “I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t want to listen to a charming voice like mine and be disappointed when they only get silence?”
“I take it back. Stop talking. Immediately.”
“And deny you my amazing thoughts and commentary? Shadow, you know I’d never do that to-”
Shadow slaps a hand over his mouth, the fabric of his glove catching on Sonic’s teeth-
A hand prying his jaw open, fingers pushing into his mouth, a dirty rag wedged between his teeth stopping him from-
“Ow!” Shadow snatches his hand back, shaking it. “What the fuck, Sonic? You didn’t need to bite me!”
“You practically had your hand in my mouth, dude, what else did you expect?” Sonic says, his heart pounding; he hadn’t meant to bite.
“Not that!”
“Geez, I’m sorry, it was just a reflex!”
He isn’t lying, and that worries him more than the fact he bit Shadow at all. Knuckles covers his mouth all the time, and his reflex has always been to lick, not bite. It just happened so fast. The hand wasn’t even over his mouth for long enough for him to think about licking before he was biting down instead.
He eyes Shadow’s hand, but he can’t see any blood or any other indication he’s broken skin or caused damage.
“Control your damn reflexes better,” Shadow grumbles, giving his hand one last shake. “Stop looking at it like that, you’d have to bite harder than that to seriously hurt me.”
“Is that an invitation?” Sonic says. His teeth still itch with the urge to bite, and shaking his head doesn’t get rid of it. “You giving me permission to bite you next time we spar?”
“Bite me when we spar and you’ll regret it.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” The ground below him feels wobbly, like it could shift under his feet at any moment and warp into something else. He picks up his pace, pulls ahead just a little, just enough so Shadow can’t see his grounding inhale - pine and cedar, not flowers, and not strong, but natural, they'll do - and then spins around to face Shadow with another grin, walking backwards again. “I mean, if you’re this bent out of shape over a little nibble…”
“A nibble?”
“C’mon, you don’t think I put my all into that little bite, do ya?”
“I don’t think you have the self control to do anything else.”
“Careful, Shadow, that was almost a compliment.” He walks even faster, tries to enjoy Shadow’s irritated eye twitch as he’s forced to pick up his own pace just to keep up. It’s hard when he has to focus so much on not grinding his teeth and keeping the unnecessary snarl off his face. Harder when Shadow’s sharp gaze pierces him, like he can see Sonic is just barely stopping himself from baring his teeth. “If I bite you harder, do I get a real one?”
“Not in a million years. For the last time, stop talking.”
“It’s like you don’t even know me.” He leaps over another root, narrowly avoiding catching it. Shadow’s eyes snap to his feet, and his brow creases.
“Sonic, for fucks sake, stop-”
“Stop what? This? I already told ya, I'm not gonna-”
He misjudges a step, and his feet stumble, bound, he tips, arms flailing, bound feet can't catch him-
Shadow snatches his hand and yanks, steadying him before he can tilt too far to hit the ground.
“I told you to stop doing that,” Shadow scolds, but it lacks the irritation it should have, laced instead with… shit, is that concern? No, can’t be, better not be, Sonic barely has the patience to deal with the concern from the rest of his friends, Shadow is supposed to be the only person Sonic doesn’t have to worry about-
He freezes, his ear twitching.
Rustling, and a soft whirring of machinery.
Sonic drops into a ball and spindashes the badnik that bursts from the bushes, dodging a projectile in the process. He doesn’t uncurl until the screeching of shredding metal stops, and when he does, it’s to see a swarm of more badniks barrelling towards them, circling them.
Well, there goes any chance of the element of surprise.
“Looks like the cat’s outta the bag,” he says, and the smirk he plasters on his face is so second nature it must look natural. “Really hope you weren’t hopin’ for a quick in-and-out kinda mission to make it easy for ya.”
“It’s insulting you think I’d ever want the easy way out,” Shadow says, already in a battle stance. There’s a smug gleam in his eye, the one Sonic missed so much on the Death Egg, but there’s… something… clouding it.
Whatever the something is, though, it’s gone before Sonic can identify it, and they leap into action before he can think much harder about it.