Archive of Our Own

He could hear it down the street. The bustle, the commotion, that beautifully intoxicating sound underneath it all. And he just had to find a way inside.

Sonic didn’t normally have the guts to venture into the towns. He’d slunk in under the cover of night to find something edible; there was a place that sold pasta further up this particular street and he’d just been going through their bins for leftovers. And then he’d ducked when he heard a group of teenagers run past, laughing and talking about some band. The blue hedgehog hadn’t caught the name but he’d perked his ears all the same, drawn to the edge of the alleyway. One teen, a bear, groaned that they were late. Sonic had been hearing people walk past for a while, heard them gathering somewhere further down the road. It was only a minute ago that he’d caught the first notes of a melody on the air.

But now he could see them, lining up outside a building with black tinted windows. The hedgehog was beyond curious now, hunger forgotten. He found himself drifting down the pavement. His eyes were glued to the building, to the kind of scary mobians dressed in black outside, but he wasn’t brave enough to actually cross the road. Sticking to the shadows, he frowned.

The teens handed something over to one of the men outside the door, a lion. The lion studied the tiny piece of paper for a beat before stepping aside. The teens thanked him and dashed inside excitedly. He needed one of those little paper things to get in, didn’t he? Sonic sagged, forcing himself to keep walking, away from the curious building and it’s really beautiful bass. Music. Someone was playing music in there. His blue ears could hear it. But he couldn’t get any closer. He’d be ushered away at best, chased off at worse. And it just made him feel weirdly hollow like just walking past it all had taken something from him.

So now here he was, standing just past the direct beam of a streetlight, miserable. Sonic wanted to get into that building so bad. But how exactly was he supposed to do that? The men at the door were a problem. He looked back over his shoulder, ears down, wondering if there were any other entrances.

Having a look couldn’t hurt…

Backtracking, Sonic darted across the road and slipped down the nearest alley. There might be a backdoor, was his thinking. It would probably be locked or alarmed but… he had to at least try. Finding the building again wasn’t a problem; there was no mistaking where that awesome music was coming from. The blue hedgehog followed his ears, feeling almost giddy as he drew closer again. If he couldn’t get inside, maybe he could sit out here and try and listen to the muted melody, overwhelming bass and muffled vocals. It would be better than nothing. His steps faltered as he neared the back of the building. There was a fire door, sitting under a green glowing sign. But was it alarmed? Where would it open into? Would anybody see him? He’d probably be spotted instantly and caught. Sonic really didn’t want to get into trouble.

Was this a good idea? It didn’t feel like one the closer he got to the door. Maybe he should just stay here. The risk outweighed what ever cool thing was happening inside for sure. Sonic could just strain his ears and hope to pick up the music better.

And then the door swung open. Sonic gasped and dashed behind the bins. He could hear his heart thudding in his ears, fur fluffing up and quills raising. Cautiously, he peeked around the side of the plastic bin and saw a mobian stumble into the alley, followed by another. The first one, a wolf, vomited, hand steadying him against the wall. Sonic scrunched his nose up in disgust. Gross. Though he did hope they were ok.

“You really shouldn’t have drunk that much before we came, idiot,” the second wolf huffed, rushing to support the other.

Breathing hard, Sonic noticed that the door was sliding closed very slowly. If he was fast enough…

Taking the chance, barely thinking it over, he zipped to the opening. He only just made it in as the door clicked into place behind him. Not alarmed. The door wasn’t alarmed. But now he was inside. It was an empty hallway, to his relief, and he could hear the music clearer now. If he followed his ears down the left, he should make it out into the main room.

And… then what? Just waltz in like he belonged there? Yeah, no one would notice a blue-furred kid walking around. Sure. There was no way he’d get away with that.

And yet that music was so enticing. He could hear drums and a guitar – or, no, two guitars, electric and bass. Was that a synthesizer? Or keytar maybe? Could it be possible he was hearing an electric violin even? Oh, he wanted to snoop so badly it hurt. There was a lady singing. Her voice was angelic but almost gruff in delivery at the same time, an odd juxtaposition that really worked. Sonic like the vocals a lot. The words themselves were still a little muffled though. He had to get closer. So he snuck through the corridor, past what looked to be a bathroom, and levelled with the door. The blue hedgehog pressed his hands against the wood and paused. He was really doing this. He could do this. If he was careful, maybe no one would even notice the colour of his fur. Maybe no one would see him at all if he kept his head down. Sonic took a deep breath and reached for the doorhandle.

The room beyond was chaotic. But in a… controlled way? There was so much sound that for a moment he just froze in the doorway, overwhelmed. He could hear shouting and cheering. The drums were insane. He’d never been this close to them before. The sound reverberated through his ribcage and he could no longer tell if that was his heart or the drums that were making his chest ache. He felt panicky and excited all at once. The crowd was moving as one like some massive wave of fur and colour. People were jumping up and down, others waving their arms in the air. He slunk into the room and pressed himself against the wall, unsure of what to do.

The stage was way off to his left. He could sort of see the performers through the thick crowd but not really. He was drawn to them but was terrified to actually get closer.

Sonic stuck to the wall, tracing his way around to the far side of the room in hopes of staying away from everyone. The hedgehog kept craning his neck back to try and see the stage better. He got about halfway before someone noticed him. A deer. Sonic was mid-step, side flush with the wall. He shrunk under their yellow gaze. But the deer didn’t run for the guys outside or yell at him, no, he held out his hand. The deer was trying to get him to come closer. Looking around, the hedgehog swallowed. Was it safe to get closer? What if the deer was trying to trick him, hurt him?

Hesitantly, Sonic approached the deer. The man crouched down to his level and smiled. Then the blue hedgehog felt himself being hoisted up and placed on the deer’s shoulders. He flinched from the initially contact but was immediately distracted from that by the view he had of the stage.

He could see everything.

There was a yellow mongoose with striking purple hair at the mic. There was a pink rabbit behind the drums, another mongoose with spikey black hair playing the keytar, a pale tan and white speckled badger with an electric violin – his ears had not deceived him – and there was a white chicken on the bass and a monkey playing the electric guitar. He could see their instruments and the way the mongoose danced as she sung, somehow not out of breath while doing both. The badger with the bass was tapping his foot. The rabbit seemed lost in the drums – which Sonic now realised had text on it. They were all bathed in multicoloured light. He narrowed his eyes but couldn’t quite make out the words. But that was fine.

A grin broke out on his face. Sonic had wanted to fade into the background, go unnoticed, but this was so much better. Below him, a field of heads. Above, an electric atmosphere of laughter and cheering and mobians singing to the lyrics of the mongoose on stage. There was a haze hanging in the air, cigarettes and what Sonic believed to be a smoke machine. And something else. Something vaguely sweet and strong. Alcohol? Right, the mobians outside were talking about drinking. There was something a little more fragrant too that he couldn’t place. And possibly sweat. But Sonic didn’t care. He was too enraptured to care. All this movement, all this sound, this collective joy. He’d never been a part of something this amazing before.

Sure, he could do without the smoke, which was so strong he could taste it. And the sheer volume of noise was a bit much. But the music was magical, the environment thrilling. It was all such a rush. And he was so glad he was here. Eyes wide, he swivelled his head to take it all in. The song was coming to an end but he knew they’d only started playing a little while ago; they’d surely have a set, at least a few more songs to get through.

When the song was over, he tapped the deer’s arm. He wanted to go down now. He thanked the man meekly and started to weave his way through the crowd. He bet the deer hadn’t even heard him over the cheering and clapping. But as he was slinking away, he heard a shout from behind him.

“Check ya later, kid!”

Sonic smiled sadly. The deer was very kind for helping him see the stage. He’d probably never see him again though. It was kind of dark in here; he probably hadn’t seen Sonic’s fur.

He shook off the momentary gloom. The strum of a guitar was joined by the cymbals on the drumkit. Then the room broke out in a crescendo again. It shook his little body but he pressed on through the throng of mobians. He noticed that there wasn’t a single human here. But then, this town was rather separated – the humans populated the nicer areas and the mobians were shoved off into the rougher side of town. He’d never understood why. Somehow, he’d still expected to see a couple of humans about. Even music couldn’t seem to bring them together in this town. Sonic was looking to move on from here soon. He was endlessly glad he stuck around to experience this though. Despite the lingering fear, he was sort of growing fond of this relaxed, chaotic environment. It certainly wasn’t something he could do all the time but… once in while maybe?

Who was he kidding? He’d never get a chance like this again.

The lights were vibrant and bright towards the stage and dim throughout the rest of the room. Sonic had never seen anything quite so flashy and dazzling.

A few mobians looked at him funny but no one said anything. Then again, ignoring his fur – which might have been hard to see in this lighting – Sonic was definitely the youngest here. Everyone towered over him but most were happy to move out of his way so he could get closer to the stage. Shifting through a crowd like this made his skin itch and prickle and his ears lower. So many people, all too close. But right now, it was worth it. It was worth it to hear the music. It was worth it to be in this overwhelming yet exhilarating atmosphere. And it would all be worth it if he could just get to the stage and have a closer look at that electric guitar.

It was light blue and white, the body like two thin upside down triangles, the headstock a shiny gold. He needed to see it up close. There was this sudden, striking, burning desire in his body to see that guitar properly; the distance didn’t give him a good enough view. It looked so cool though. Far nicer than his scuffed, stained, acoustic back at the Tornado, with its missing strings. And yet, besides the plane, that guitar was the most treasured thing he owned. It had been fished out of a bin but still he loved it so much.

If he was ever without that guitar and his precious plane, Sonic thought he might have a breakdown.

Was that dramatic? The hedgehog sincerely thought he would though. He had little else to call his own. A beat up backpack, a cracked plastic cup, a tarp, some old rusty tools and a holey blanket were the only other things he really had. Well, and that old hoody he’d found, but that was soaked from the recent rainfall and he hadn’t wanted to get sick wearing it tonight. Usually, it was handy for hiding his quills and fur. Absently, Sonic hoped it would dry soon.

As he was getting closer to the stage, the song ended. It had been similar to the first but with a softer ending. The next one was set into motion with the melodic resonance of the electric violin. It set his fur on end in the best possible way. Sonic paused for a moment, caught by that isolated sound. He still preferred guitars but there was something truly captivating about the electric violin. Instruments were so interesting. If he could, he’d learn to play them all. It was only a daydream though. The hedgehog had taught himself to play the guitar – there was no way he was even playing that right to begin with. But, Chaos, he’d love to learn properly. The violin, the piano, hell even the flute. They all sounded so beautiful in different ways. Drums had their own special flare, bringing with them a rhythmic beat that anything else could play off. Sonic sighed heavily. What a dream.

Someone beside him shifted, brushing against his shoulder, and Sonic froze. He’d forgotten where he was for a second. Muttering something incoherent, he sidestepped away from them. Then he suddenly grew aware of just how many people were bunched up around him and a jolt of something sickening shot through his system. Lightheaded, he pushed his way to the outskirts of the room again, ending up on the opposite side from where he started. He was closer to the stage now but his heart had jumped into his skull and he needed a moment to breathe.

Leaning against the wall, breathing ragged, he listened to the third song in a sort of daze. He wanted to be paying attention but his head was pounding like the drums. Maybe pressing through the crowd was a mistake. Sonic had been too distracted by everything; he thought he could handle it. Balling his hands up into fists, Sonic huffed.

About halfway through the song, when the badger on the electric guitar was performing a high-tempo solo, Sonic was able to properly listen once more. He wouldn’t move from the wall again though, not yet. The guitar was helping. He’d love to replicate that solo himself but it would sound awful on his broken acoustic. He thought he might be able to memorise the notes though, the sound. There was just no way he’d be able to do it without the strings he was missing.

When the song ended, the clapping and cheering was thunderous, making him jump and press himself further against the wall. The singer shouted out something. Something about the audience being amazing. The show was ending. With any luck, people would be filtering out now.

But how exactly was he supposed to leave through the front door?

There was chatter around him for a few minutes and, eventually, people began to leave. As the crowd thinned, Sonic saw his chance. A path to the stage had opened.

The guitar. He had to see that guitar.

Slinking through that gap he’d spotted, Sonic finally closed the distance to the stage. The instruments were still there, the band was gathered at the other end of the raised area, talking about something. Fingers curling over the lip of the stage, the blue hedgehog stood on his tippytoes to see better. It was right there. The guitar was right there…

He heard a shout, footsteps echoing over the raised platform. The monkey was making his way over. The young hedgehog recoiled like he’d been struck, ears flattening. He stumbled back, ready to run for the hallway again. He could make it there so quick. His skin was prickling, his fur rising along his back and sides. Sonic felt ill. He didn’t want to get into trouble. Trouble meant hurt. And hurt was very, very bad. More than the pain itself, it was the shock, the understanding that he was wrong, that scared him most.

“Hey, wait!” the monkey called out.

Sonic was torn between running and staying where he was. So he inched away, uncertain. The monkey reached the edge of the stage and hopped down to the floor. The hedgehog lowered his head, quills flaring out. The room was mostly clear now. The colourful lights had been switched off. Now the main lights in the room suddenly flicked on, also causing Sonic to flinch. His fur would be completely visible now. He felt exposed. His heartrate shot up again and he felt shaky. The hedgehog didn’t want to get caught; the monkey might call for one of the scary men outside. So he turned towards the door on the other side of the room.

“Kid, hang on a sec!”

The monkey levelled with him and grabbed his arm. A full shudder went through Sonic at the contact. He ducked his head further and closed his eyes. This was it. He was done for. Oh how could he have been so stupid? Sonic never should have approached the stage; he never should have come here to begin with. He didn’t belong. He’d never belong anywhere and he was always making mistakes.

“I-I’m sor-ry,” he stuttered quietly. “I w-wasn’t go-ing to t-t-touch it, I sw-swear. I ju-ust wanted to s-see it.”

“Hey, breathe, kid,” the monkey said. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

He… wasn’t?

“Like my guitar, eh?”

Cracking open one eye, Sonic studied his face. The monkey’s eyes were a shocking green. Despite that they looked warm. His face was open, brow no longer creased as it had been before. The monkey didn’t look threatening. Sonic had been fooled before though. The other mobian eased up his grip and allowed him to pull his arm away. Then the monkey walked back towards the stage. Confused, Sonic just stood there, uncomprehending. The monkey took up his guitar, unplugged it, and then started making his way back over. Sonic almost backed away from him again as he approached but the hedgehog made himself stay where he was out of curiosity.

The monkey brought it closer so he could see it properly. He told him he could touch it if he liked. Sonic was about to reach for it and then remembered that his gloves were wrecked. If the other somehow hadn’t noticed yet, he certainly would realise Sonic wasn’t supposed to be here if he started grabbing it with his dirty gloves. He kept his fingers curled, palms to his chest in order to try and hide them. Sonic shook his head.

“It’s a Flying V,” the monkey told him.

“Fl-Flying… Vee?” he whispered.

The rest of the band was watching them. He shifted uncomfortably. What were they thinking? Were they wondering why he was there? Did they see how dirty he was? Were they looking at his fur? Oh why couldn’t he have had his jumper to hide the colour at the very least?

The monkey told him his name was Max and asked if Sonic would like to sit on the stage with him. After glancing back at the door behind him, Sonic reluctantly followed Max. He’d determined that he was somewhat safe for now but he was ready to bolt if he needed to. Max nodded to his bandmates, they went back to muttering for a second and then they started to pack up their instruments. Sonic sat with the monkey, hands tucked in his lap, ears still low. Max pointed to different parts of the guitar and told him about it, pointed out a sticker on the side that looked rad. He asked Sonic if he wanted to learn how to play. He told the monkey quietly that he already had a guitar but was too embarrassed to describe the condition. His voice was starting to fail him a little; he didn’t speak often.

“Hey that’s awesome, kid! What type is it?”

What exactly was he supposed to say? He didn’t know the brand or anything; he’d gotten it out of a bin. Sonic had picked up a lot of his music knowledge from scraps of newspapers and books that had been tossed. Many were missing pages and there were so many words he didn’t know. Reading was a very lengthy, difficult process for him but he’d been able to work out some of it. Eventually. To be honest though, he hadn’t known there were different brands of instruments or anything. But he’d remember Flying V now; that one looked cool.

“Acoustic,” Sonic muttered. “N-not sure wh-what it is exa-actly. I… don’t thi-ink I’m v-very good anyway…”

“That’s ok,” Max said. “If it’s a beginner guitar, it doesn’t much matter; you’ll probably get a better one when you’re older. Stick with it though, yeah? You’re young, you’ll improve. How old are you?”

Sonic hesitated.

“Nine,” he answered.

“Oh wow, you’re younger than I thought. May I have your name?”

The hedgehog shuffled in place. He considered whether it was safe to say his name. But then he realised it probably didn’t matter anyway. No one knew him around here, not really, so it wasn’t like it would matter.

“S-Sonic.”

“Well, Sonic, keep practicing,” Max said. “I guarantee you’re better than you think.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to Max’s encouraging words; Sonic sort of shrivelled under them. He wasn’t used to this sort of attention. Frankly, he wasn’t quite sure he really wanted it. Maybe it was time he left before he drew any more attention. With any luck, the weather had stayed quite dry, so the Tornado would be ok. If it had rained, the cockpit was still uncovered, and that would be really bad. Sonic should really go check because he didn’t want his plane to get ruined. A spike of paranoia rose up in him. What if it was raining? What if someone found his plane? All of his stuff was in that cockpit. Ear flicking, he looked to the windows. He couldn’t really see out of them from over here either. It was making him nervous the more he stayed here. Now that everyone had cleared out and it was quiet, the walls were feeling more… prominent.

“Th-thank you for letting me see your guitar,” he muttered.

The monkey smiled and ruffled the fur on his head. His whole body locked up but… he didn’t hate it. Sonic looked up at Max in awe. His fur was greasy and probably dirty. It was also blue, which didn’t usually get him positive reactions. He wondered if the monkey would notice now and be disgusted.

“How did you get in here anyway?” Max asked suddenly. “You have to be fifteen to buy a ticket.”

Sonic swallowed. He lowered his head again. The monkey guessed that he snuck in and he hunched his shoulders. He could feel Max studying him, his searching eyes boring into his soul. The monkey was really going to yell at him now. He tried to press his hands closer to each other in hopes he didn’t see his gloves. Now was he seeing how dirty Sonic was? Was he realising that talking to him was a mistake? He didn’t belong. He didn’t belong.

“You’re a rad little hedgehog, aren’t ya. I like your fur. Pretty shade.”

“You… you do?” Sonic asked, confused.

Where was the reaction he was expecting, the one he’d been waiting for this whole time?

“Tell ya what,” Max said. “Next time we play here, tell the guys outside that you have a free pass from us.”

Max shouted for his bandmate, Mina. She’d been the lead vocalist, Sonic recalled, the one at the microphone. The mongoose strode over and crouched beside them. Max introduced him and then asked Mina to get one of the setlists from the edge of the stage and a pen. Sonic watched in astonishment as all of the Forget Me Knots signed this folded piece of paper. For him. Max handed it to Sonic. The hedgehog took it hesitantly, looking over the signatures. He couldn’t read them very well but each one was different. This one was sloping, that one curly, the other jagged, another very simple with only one letter visible at the start, and the last was just a little swirl. His fingers tightened around the piece of paper, touched by the monkey’s kindness. He’d snuck in, hadn’t paid to be here – that wasn’t fair to them – and yet they were being so nice. He looked up at Max with wide, watery eyes. He didn’t understand.

“B-but…”

“Everyone should get to enjoy music, kid,” Mina said. “We try and make our tickets cheap but still not everyone can afford them. We like to help where we can. Show that to one of the bouncers next time, they’ll let you in. And if they don’t, we’ll deal with ‘em.”

He felt like he might cry. Sonic flicked his eyes to the floor and held the piece of paper close. He didn’t deserve their generosity. The other members of the band – the Forget Me Knots – introduced themselves, showed him their instruments. The Forget Me Knots were all really nice. He’d already met Mina and Max. Then there was Ash, the other mongoose, who had been on the keytar. The chicken, Sharps, who showed off his red bass with pride. Mach, the rabbit, gladly went over his entire drumkit. Then Hailey, the badger, was really passionate about her electric violin and it made Sonic want to learn so much more. They were all so accepting of him instantly, so nice. Mina told him to bring his guitar next time but he muttered that he couldn’t.

“Why not, kid?”

Should he tell them? Maybe not. They’d all realise he didn’t have a home for sure if he did. So he hesitated. Mach put his hand on Sonic’s shoulder and told him that he could tell them, that they wouldn’t judge. So, reluctantly, he told them it was missing a couple strings. He did not tell them where he’d gotten it. Or the way it looked. But then Sharps told him he’d get him some new strings if he brought it next time.

They kept saying next time, so he asked when their next show was. Mina told him it was in a month, same date and same time. Sonic promised that he’d remember and that he’d bring his guitar. But now he was very much ready to get out of this building. The walls were pressing down on him and the smoke hanging in the air was irritating his lungs. It all felt so… enclosed. The hedgehog really didn’t like it anymore; he needed fresh air and open spaces again. He needed to see the sky. And check for rain. But mostly, he very much wanted to be away from the walls now. Like ten-minutes-ago now.

Sonic said goodbye to them all. Max walked him to the door – the main door – and also ensured that the bouncers would recognise him for next time. They actually weren’t so scary. It was dry outside at the very least and he let out a breath, taking off down the pavement once everyone was out of sight.

Sonic was dizzy when got back to his plane. But a good kind of dizzy. That buzz of adrenaline in his veins was like lightning and yet he couldn’t get that big, stupid grin off his face.

Three days later, he stumbled across a kangaroo, who claimed to have taped the whole show. She was in a back alley, selling the CD and some other memorabilia to several mobians. Sonic recognised the deer in line from that night, and the bear he’d seen running down the street. When the group dispersed, Sonic approached. He had his jumper on today, pulled up over his quills. The kangaroo asked if he’d like to buy anything. He shook his head, telling her he had no money, just wanted to look at the shirt.

It was a long-sleeve, black, with white stripes down one sleeve and the inverse on the other. On the left side of the shirt, there were flowers, the namesake of the band. He really liked it.

“How ‘bout a trade?” the kangaroo asked.

Sonic jolted.

“Trade?”

“I’ve seen ya about,” she said. “You’re pretty sneaky. Get me a bottle of Chaos Cola and two bags of Ring Snacks from the shop on the corner, and I’ll give ya a shirt.”

He wrung out his hands. That was a really bad idea. Sure, he probably wouldn’t be caught but someone was bound to notice. And it was wrong. Very wrong. He already felt bad for sneaking into that show the other night as it was. Sonic frowned. Was he really willing to commit another crime for this band?

“But… that’s stealing,” he muttered.

“How ‘bout I throw in a CD too?”

The kangaroo was trying to sweeten the deal, trying to entice him to do it. With the rings she’d gotten from the sales before him, she’d surely have enough for the snacks. So why did she even want them? Or maybe he was being naïve. Just because she had some money didn’t mean the kangaroo had the funds for something like that. She might have seen the show as an opportunity to make some rings, so had taken the risk. Who was Sonic to judge?

“Just… just the Chaos Cola and Ring Snacks?”

“Two Ring Snacks,” she reminded him with a grin.

Sonic paused. He really shouldn’t. But they were just snacks, right? He’d tried Ring Snacks before – there had been a half-full bag in a bin that someone had thrown away. They’d been a little stale but then everything he got out of bins tended to be. No one would really miss them. Probably. It made Sonic feel dirty but…

“Ok.”

He agreed.

Having the shirt around might be a decent alternative to his jumper when he was out and about. It wouldn’t hide his quills, so he could leave the jumper for days when he ventured into towns, but it would keep him warmer. And that was always a plus when one was living out in the elements. Nights could get cold, particularly around winter. Sonic had no way of playing the CD but, if the kangaroo was offering that too, he might as well take it. If things got really rough, he could always try selling it on. Might get him a handful of rings. And with those, he could buy a little food for the colder months when resources were scarce.

The hedgehog slunk his way to the shop on the corner. The orange branding and flickering sign were hard to miss. He’d found all sorts of about-to-expire products in the bins out back, so this was a frequent haunt of his. Sonic had never actually stolen from the shop itself, though some argued going through the bins was stealing in and of itself. But if it was being thrown out, no one else was going to eat it – why couldn’t Sonic have that stuff? Seemed wasteful to him.

Still, he made sure no one saw him when he went through the bins. No need to attract unnecessary attention. Or risk being hit or chased off.

Flattening his ears, Sonic walked in through the automatic doors. He quickly slid behind a tall divider with items on it to hide from the view of the till. With any luck, he hadn’t been seen and the mobian behind the counter had just seen the door open randomly. Keeping his steps light and slow, he found the wall of doors where the drinks were kept. He hadn’t asked what kind of Chaos Cola the kangaroo wanted, so he just grabbed the cheapest one – the original. The door had opened with a quiet, suction sound, blasting him with cool air that made him shiver. He didn’t want it to slam, so he gently eased it closed again when he had what he needed. The rubber lining the inside thankfully muted the sound. Then Sonic set his sights on the rest of the aisles. He spotted the original Ring Snacks sitting on a shelf that was a little too high. They weren’t the ones that he’d tried once but, again, the kangaroo had not specified. The regular ones seemed a safe bet. He just had to be able to reach them.

He knew once he’d made contact, the packaging would crinkle under his fingers. It would be loud. Sonic would have to leave as soon as he had a hold of them. But he had to get two bags. Standing fully in the aisle, Sonic was short enough that he couldn’t be seen. But that also meant he had to stand on his tiptoes to be able to get them. Leaning one hand on the lower shelf, Sonic pushed himself up as far as he could get. His fingers were close enough to brush the packaging. If he quickly lunged up, he might be able to grab one.

Taking a deep breath, the hedgehog jumped up to reach the yellow packets. He snagged one, the crinkle very obvious. In a panic, he quickly snagged a second and dashed for the door. It was automatic and at first didn’t register his presence. So he had to stop for a painful moment, waiting for the sensor to pick him up and open, arm full of stolen goods. then doors began to slide open and Sonic squeezed through at the first sign of a gap. Heart stuttering in his chest, Sonic zipped around the corner and back down into the alley. Breathing hard, he dumped the snacks on the table. He never wanted to do that again.

“Drink m-might be a bit sh-shaken up,” he gasped out. “Don’t open it r-right aw-ay.”

The kangaroo blinked. She seemed shocked that he’d actually done it. Then her face broke out in a grin. She folded her arms and nodded. Approval. Despite the act, it actually made Sonic feel kind of… good. But he tried not to let that sway him. Stealing was wrong and he would not allow himself to be encouraged to do so again. Never ever.

“Nice work kid,” she said, impressed. “Don’t really have a shirt in your size but you can take the smallest one I have. You’ll grow into it. And here’s the CD, as promised.”

She slid over the clear case with the disk in it, then turned to the box behind her. Sonic didn’t really care that the top would be too big; more fabric just meant more warmth to him. And she was right; it would last longer because he’d have time to actually grow into it. And somehow, that felt special. The kangaroo handed him the top and Sonic’s ears perked up. The fabric was quite soft. He studied the printing closer for a moment. The flowers were pretty. He thanked the kangaroo and zipped away to drop them off at his plane so they’d be safe.

Sonic never did get a chance to take his guitar to the Forget Me Knots. The day of the next show, the building was up in flames.

He’d been walking down the road, wrecked guitar in hand and the piece of paper clutched in the other. When he turned onto the street, he could see the amber glow. A few mobians ran past, screaming. Some had singed fur. Ears flattening, his steps faltered. He ran a little ways down the road and paused, horrified, when he saw the fire engulfing the building. The bouncers were escorting a couple mobians, a squirrel and a racoon, from the building. One was limping, the other was in the bouncer’s arms. Their fur was black. They were all coughing. Hopefully everyone was ok. But what was happening? He knew what fire was, knew how destructive it could be, but it had only ever been helpful in his experience. But Sonic felt very different about these flames. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them.

The hedgehog drifted closer to the mobians with wide eyes. There was no sign of the band. That didn’t mean they were hurt but it also didn’t mean they were safe either. Slinging his guitar around his back and tucking the paper into his glove, Sonic began running around, asking what happened. Everything was chaos on the dirty streets and no one would answer him. He sat in an alley that night, a little further down form the fire, watching a group of mobians tackling the fire, feeling empty and confused. His heart wouldn’t stop hammering.

It was only the next day that he managed to get the story from one of the bouncers. The lion recognised him and told him what happened.

A human had thrown a flaming bottle through the window. It had smashed into the sound equipment and started an electrical fire. Max had been the closest to the initial blast when one of the amps was struck. The resulting splash of alcohol sprayed up his fur. It caught light instantly. Hailey ran up to help. The crowd freaked and ran for the doors, stepping over each other to get there. By the sounds of it, the entire band was trapped on stage and unable to get out. All six had been counted among the lost, as well as about five others from the audience. Ten more had been reported injured so far but the bouncer was sure the real number was higher.

The Forget Me Knots were dead.

It struck him like a slap. Sonic didn’t understand. Heartbroken, he asked why it had happened. The bouncer told him the Forget Me Knots were known for writing radical music aimed at uplifting mobians. But their words had also incentivised activist groups to call for equal treatment of the mobians in the city. They were all apparently looking to make the city a better place – for all of its inhabitants. But a group of humans had been opposed to it all.

“Why…?” Sonic asked, hollow.

“Because sometimes, kid, those above us get scared when we raise our voices,” the lion said with a sigh. “They feel threatened by it. And when they’re scared, they take matters into their own hands to try and silence us. That’s just how the world works.”

Eleven mobians dead. All for simply asking for equality?

Sonic dragged himself back to the Tornado, numb. Those mobians had been so kind to him, kinder than most. They’d just wanted to advocate for better lives. And they were killed. All for speaking, for writing songs with themes of freedom and equality and bravery. Speaking their mind. Why couldn’t the humans here see that they wanted all this for everyone, not just the mobians in the rough side of town? Sonic couldn’t comprehend it. This area was so wrong, so poisoned. It wasn’t fair.

If he’d been there earlier, if he’d had a way to gauge the exact time and he’d been there, would it have changed anything? Would he have been able to help get everyone out? Would he have been able to get the band out? Sonic was fast but he didn’t know how quickly the fire had spread. But it sounded really rapid. Could he have saved them or would he have died himself? Would that have even mattered though? No one would miss him. But so many mobians would miss the Forget Me Knots. And Sonic started blaming himself. If only he’d been there he could have tried. But they were gone. All of those mobians were gone, just like that, and they weren’t ever coming back. It was too late for what ifs. Asking questions wouldn’t change anything. And that was a hard thing for a nine year old to accept.

He cried that night. Cried about the injustice of it all. Cried for the Forget Me Knots. Cried for the innocent lives lost to the fire. Cried for the senseless injuries inflicted for no reason.

 All those flames… Sonic shuddered. He wasn’t sure the image would ever leave his mind. It was quite literally burned there, forever. He couldn’t imagine how painful their deaths would have been. The blue hedgehog had burnt himself before, touching a flame when he was much younger. It had taught him how hot the stuff had been and that he had to keep a safe distance from it. But fires had warmed him up during cold nights. Fire had helped cook some of his food. Fire had destroyed Eggman’s robots and bases, had aided him in stopping the man. But it was also unforgiving and destructive and it hurt very, very bad. And he vowed to be even more careful with it from now on. To protect those who may be around him any given time. People he spoke to briefly, people who were just minding their own business. Sonic would try his best to help them all.

The next morning, he pulled on his Forget Me Knots top and tucked the signed paper away in the CD case, stowing it away in his bag again. Sonic hugged his guitar close for a beat. Then he set out, wandering the fields outside the city for a good while. Later that afternoon, he started up the Tornado, setting off for a random destination in a daze. He didn’t care where he ended up, he just wanted to be away from this town. As far away as he could get in one night. Once the sun was up, then he’d sleep. Not that he thought he’d get much rest for quite some time.

That night, resting on the razed, blackened remains of the club, was a bundle of pink, white and blue forget-me-nots. No one knew where they’d come from. Most didn’t notice.

But they were there.