Archive of Our Own

The plate with the chili dog was in front of him so suddenly Sonic flinched back and away from it. He'd been zoned out, maybe. Pains from his last adventure had flared up, so he'd taken a painkiller and curled up on the couch and now he blinked blearily because he didn't know if he'd been awake or asleep.

He didn't move. Not immediately. It was probably concerning how his brain lagged behind, because it shouldn't have, his reaction time was better than this, he knew it was, but eventually he remembered no one else was home because all his friends were gone, and so he sat up like a bolt, eyes landing on the person who had placed the plate down.

And meeting red-spiral eyes.

"…I want us to stop pretending I'm not real." The golden hedgehog before him managed, as they looked away, curled into themself, took those red-eyes off him.

For a second, all Sonic could do was stare. The words didn't even really make sense for him, because for a second, something in his brain whispered he was hallucinating again. And that it was bad this time, because he was seeing not a real person or situation but some dumb imaginary friend from his childhood long ago, and seeing them with such clarity it terrified him.

Then the words registered. And he remembered what had happened, when killing The End. That brief, seconds long moment.

"Y-you're real?" He chocked out, voice probably coming out a pitch too high.

Red spirals turned back to him. He got the distinct impression of being hurt in there, but they were unusual and hard to read. "…you saw me. In the islands, you saw me. I held your hands."

"…I— I thought I hallucinated that, to be honest." He managed, quietly, and sunk back into the couch as the magnitude of who or what was before him sunk in. He was either hallucinating, bad, really bad, enough so that he was sharply aware of it and very concerned by it or…

He reached out for the chili dog. It felt solid in his hands. He didn't take it, pausing and staring.

…this was real. The golden hedgehog in front of him was real.

"I—"

"…do you think I'm real now?" The golden hedgehog asked.

Sonic looked down. Looked at the chili dog. His hand was trembling but he kept his mouth shut. "…i don't… i don't know."

The silence that fell over them was heavy and uncomfortable. It was the truth and it felt clumsy and toxic now that it was laid bare. He didn't know. He didn't know what to think, didn't know if the golden hedgehog before him was real or not because as far as he'd believed basically all his life, this golden hedgehog before him was a childhood whim. A snippet of imagination to keep himself comfortable until his brain took it to dark, dark places, and he fought restlessly for years to come to bury it and forget it. Fleetway, he'd convinced himself his brain had come up with. Their name was Fleetway, and he'd never been able to shake it.

Or them. Because evidently, he was real. And they were right here with him.

Fleetway at first said nothing to that. Looked saddened by the reply, if anything, and shifted a bit restlessly, before his feet lifted off the floor and they drifted closer. Sonic, despite himself, flinched back, and they paused.

"…I'm real." Fleetway stated.

"Okay." Was all Sonic managed to reply to that. They were real. And his brain struggled with accepting that.

Fleetway awkwardly hovered backwards. Settled down on the floor, staring at the chili dog silently. "…do you hate me?"

Sonic tensed, felt something in him crack. "No. I— I don't hate anyone."

"Then… then why can't we just stop?" Fleetway begged of him. And they sounded so desperate, and it hurt. "I want to help you. I hate seeing you hurt. But we just keep pretending I'm not real, that I'm not here— You're all alone and you don't want to bother your friends so why can't I keep you company?"

"I—" Sonic stammered. "Because I don't— I— I thought you weren't real."

"But I am." Fleetway managed, brokenly. "I'm talking to you right now. You know I'm real now. I want to stop seeing you hurt yourself."

"I'm not hurting myself." Sonic protested, sharp, alarmed. He wasn't, he wasn't, he wasn't he knew he wasn't. Or… No. No he wasn't. The isolating didn't count, he deserved that. What he'd done was terrible. That he deserved.

Fleetway drifted over. Caught his hand. He tensed, stared at a tattered glove, fingers with small claws that strained against the fabric. "…that. You need to stop doing that. You didn't deserve that."

"I did." Sonic snapped. Fleetway shrunk, a little, but didn't let go. Sonic looked away in turn. "…I did. I shouldn't have… you know what I did, right?"

"…rewind time." Fleetway filled in, quietly.

Sonic stared at the ground.

"…I don't know the details." Fleetway managed. "I just… I know because you talked with Star about it a lot."

Sonic… didn't know what to say. What to do. Other than look away. "…don't tell anyone."

"…I don't… really speak with anyone anyways." Fleetway excused. "I usually just… hang around you."

Sonic looked back warrily. "…you stalk me?"

Fleetway made a face. "Don't… put it like that. It sounds bad."

"So you do."

"I have to." Fleetway feebly defended. "I never left. When we had the fight, I never left, I couldn't."

"Why not?" Sonic demanded. He felt shaky and sick. The 'fight' Fleetway spoke off was fuzzy in his mind, from long, long ago. He didn't know if it was because he'd forgotten, or blocked it, or the Cyber Corruption got to it. He just remembered terror and disgust, a sickening guilt in his stomach, and an overwhelming anguish he was frankly afraid to touch. But the thought that Fleetway had been following him this entire time, unannounced and unnoticed, also made him feel deeply uneasy. He could argue he didn't know why, but he did. Because having someone watching you so adamantly would probably scare anyone.

"…you keep me alive." Fleetway explained, vaguely. "…and I do the same for you."

Sonic didn't want this, actually. If he'd had any appetite it was gone. He wanted to get up and run away but he figured that actually wouldn't change much. "I keep you alive?"

"I need Chaos Energy to survive." Fleetway supplied. "It's what I am. It's my life force. You have so much of it it… it honestly should have killed you. But you know that. I take some of the excess. You keep me alive."

Sonic hesitated. "…so is that how you keep me alive?"

Fleetway shifted, and finally released his hand. "…sure, I guess. Other things. There's others like me. They'd bleed you dry if they could. I chase them away. And… your Super form."

"Others… like you?" Sonic asked, looking to Fleetway. They… sounded scared. For him? For them?

"I'm… a kandler spirit." Fleetway told him. "We're… formed from the shed energies of gods. And we feed on Chaos Energy. But ones like me are… usually cruel. They'd do anything they could to get their hands on more energy. A-And you have so much…"

"Ones like… you?" Sonic pressed.

Fleetway drew a shaky breath. Curled into himself, an action so deeply distressed that it gave Sonic pause.

"…I'm a demon." Fleetway meekly explained. "We feed on negative energy. You— You're always surrounded by it and I—" They paused their explanation. "I didn't ask to be like this. I— Please I don't want you to hate me— I didn't ask to be like this, I don't wanna be like this, I was formed this way and I—"

"…fleet?" Sonic very, very slowly interjected.

Fleetway looked over.

"…is that why you first helped me?"

Fleetway deflated. "…you were dying. You were crying. Yeah."

Sonic looked dead ahead. There was a pit in his stomach.

"I— But you always have so much— I can still help you— I can help you feel better I promise— I— Other demons hurt people to get the negative energy but I won't I swear, Spark, I swear— I've been keeping them away, I only take what I need, w-when you use the Chaos Emeralds I help keep the negative Chaos away so you can go super—"

Sonic whirled to look at them. "Wait, is—"

They both paused. Fleetway stared at him with wide-eyes. Sonic felt like the world had sped up around him and he couldn't keep up. Too much happening all at once even though he was only sitting on the couch, talking to someone. It was just— What Fleetway said…

"…are you the reason the Super form is so positive?" Sonic eventually clumsily asked.

He'd never really taken much note of it. After all when he was super he usually had much better things to be caring about, like keeping the world from ending. But during the Starfall Islands, he couldn't not notice. He'd been drowning in it. Choking in the positivity, so much so coming out of the transformation was unbearably sour, and it made him feel ill. Sometimes he couldn't even think straight.

Fleetway nodded, slowly. "…t-the reason… t-the reason a super form is so hard is because… you have to stay positive. The entire time. You're… you're good at it, but… I know it's been wearing you down. Most mortals can't even do it well enough to achieve a super form to begin with. It's hard. It's… not natural." They shifted, stared at their hands. "…but since I'm made of Chaos Energy I can… help keep the negative Chaos away. Make it… the reverse, almost? You don't have to force yourself to stay happy because you only get the positive Chaos, and it boosts your mood."

Sonic's ears drooped. "But that feels— it feels awful."

Because it did. He'd never voice it, he'd never told a soul, because it was a new development, and how could he complain about ascending to become a god on a wish and a prayer? But it felt awful. The positivity, choking him up. Consuming him. Eating away the things that made him him to just… well, to only leave room for Sonic the Hedgehog, he supposed. Maybe the problem was that he didn't actually know who he was.

"…I know." Fleetway managed. "…but you wouldn't be able to hold on to it otherwise, even though you have enough energy to just go Super on your own."

There was a moment of silence. Sonic stared down at his hands. Too much. It was too much. He wanted to claw out his quills but like hell that would fix anything. So he wasn't even special. He couldn't go super on his own, he had to have a demon helping him with The Emeralds in order to manage it.

Suddenly, and numbly, a lot made sense. The voice of the Emeralds. The ways they sometimes seemed to be holding his hands. Their apology, one? Two? Attempts ago— That wasn't the Emeralds. It never was. It was Fleetway. He didn't even need to ask, he looked to Fleetway and they nodded quietly, ashamed, movement minute. Everything he'd ever done with the Emeralds, it wasn't him. It was a demon holding his hand through the motions without him even knowing and he couldn't even be upset because…

Because Fleetway was right. He'd have been dead long ago without them.

He couldn't do it on his own.

So then what was… Fleetway talking about?

"…enough energy?" He asked, quietly.

"…like I said, you have a lot of energy." Fleetway reiterated. Worried the cuff of their glove. "I… wouldn't be surprised, honestly, if you had enough energy to go super without the Emeralds."

Sonic looked up, ahead, at the empty blackness of the un powered TV screen. "Without the Emeralds."

"…Maybe." Fleetway agreed, quietly. "…i can't imagine it'd be safe, or pleasant, though. With the Emeralds it's already hard enough."

Going Super without the Emeralds. No more races against time to collect the Emeralds before someone who would miss use them, no more waiting to have them all before he was strong enough to take on the challenge at hand. He wanted to demand why Fleetway had not suggested it before. Had not spoken to him at all before. But… something about the proposal felt fragile. Unsure. Terrified. He didn't know if he liked it. The pit in his stomach grew. It felt unbearably heavy. A new choice was suddenly before him. If he could go Super to solve something, on command… would it be wrong not to? Would it make him a bad person?

It probably would.

"…Spark?" Fleetway asked, quietly.

"…we can stop pretending." He replied, emptily, numbly, to their original question. "…you're real."

They relaxed, almost seeming to slump. "…you're not upset with me?"

"…I don't… I don't know." Sonic returned. "…I don't… If you've been stalking me all this time you should know I don't know."

Fleetway shrunk, again, but nodded mutely.

Sonic looked back at the chili dog. "Just… promise me you'll help me in any way you can. Promise me."

"…I will." Fleetway assured. "I promise, Spark."

He hit the ground so hard that his vision went black for a second.

The sounds of gunfire and battle where muffled in his ears. He let out a broken groan, fumbling to sit up, and gratefully took the help from the arms that suddenly found their way around him, helping him get up as much as he could. He blinked away tears and blurriness, squinting up the distance he'd fallen from the top of the ravine to down here.

"…are you okay?" Fleetway asked him. He looked over, startled only for a second by their presence. They'd followed him into battle with the promise to help while swearing to remain unseen. They'd done pretty well so far, he wanted to believe. He felt like the battle had been going on faster, less of a drag, and everyone up there thought it was just him being him.

Then again, everyone up there was a bunch of G.U.N soldiers who had meddled with an Eggman base when they shouldn't have, but whatever. Point was, Fleetway was helping, and he didn't feel as overwhelmingly alone even as he frowned at the steep, uneven walls of the ravine.

"M'fine." He mumbled in reply. Made to stand up. "It's not too far of a ju—"

He was about to say he could just run up the walls and jump out. But all at once his words collapsed into a pained yelp as his leg buckled with them, a flash of agony concerningly coming from his leg and almost knocking Fleetway over when suddenly he was leaning his full weight on them.

"Spark?" Fleetway asked, in concern, helping him to his feet better as he fumbled to adjust around his leg. He looked down at the offending limb.

It didn't look right. It didn't look right. How did that happen? A fall didn't— He knew how to take a fall, why didn't his leg look right—

He had to look away fast. The sight, even if not gruesome, was unexpected, and upsetting. Badly upsetting. He felt like puking as panic suddenly spiked. He couldn't run on that, could he? He liked to believe he could just keep running no matter what but he got the distinct sense that if he even tried he would just make everything else.

"Spark?" Fleetway asked again meekly.

Sonic chocked on a breath. "Y-You don't-t happen to know how to h-heal right?"

Fleetway looked down at his leg. When Sonic was next able to meet their gaze, the horror in those red spirals didn't help.

"F-Fleet?"

"Demons can't… c-can't heal." Fleetway managed, a bit brokenly.

Sonic looked up at the ravine. He could still hear the fight. He had to get up there and clean up the mess G.U.N. had made before it got out of hand.

"I— I can carry you out." Fleetway offered. "I can fly."

"I need to be able to fight, Fleet." Sonic strangled.

A moment more of silence.

The question rattled around in his head. If he could go Super to fix something… would it be wrong not to?

Fleetway looked to him. In the days since they'd been hanging out they seemed to almost read his thoughts. He had to ask them if they could. He was pretty sure they could, because now they looked at him and paled.

"No." They begged. "Let's not."

"I gotta get back out there, Fleet." Sonic strangled in return. His voice came out flat. He surprised himself with it, really.

"No you don't." Fleet begged. "Let's just— G.U.N. got themselves into this mess, you don't owe them anything, you know you don't. You don't have to help them. I'll— I'll just take you home."

Home. Ha.

"Going Super would fix me." Sonic pointed out. "And I have to help."

"No you don't." Fleetway insisted.

Sonic stared straight ahead. "If one of them dies, it's my fault, Fleet."

Silence. Fleetway's fur seemed just a bit brighter. Just a bit shinier.

"You know it's not." Fleetway said. But they said it in a way that felt hollow. They knew better. They knew it was. "You know it's not, Spark."

"…you promised you'd help me." Sonic returned.

"…But this is risky." Fleetway insisted. "I— what if it hurts you?"

Sonic tried to feel fear at that. Going Super without the Emeralds, what if it hurt him, what if it messed him up irreparably?The failed attempt where it all came crashing down sprung to mind. No walking. Only one arm. All his friends, forced to stay behind for him.

…but here they were already gone, and Sage was alive. The fear was dull. A dull blade. He tried to shove it deeper and it didn't do anything.

Fleetway caught his hand. Squeezed it. "Don't do that. Don't think like that."

Sonic looked at the ground. He felt irreparably broken already. "…you want to change my mind. I'm trying to help you."

The silence that followed was thick and heavy. Pierced by gunshots, by screams occasionally. They were wasting time.

"…Okay." Fleetway managed, a bit brokenly. "I'll… help you. As— a-a test? T-this is— l-low stakes, so we'll know if it's a bad idea—"

Sonic nodded. He couldn't find words.

If it worked, if it did anything, it would always be an option. He knew that. He was opening another floodgate he wouldn't be able to close.

He hoped it was a good one.

Fleetway shifted their hold, just a little. Took a deep breath. They didn't breathe, Sonic had noted at some point. Didn't need to. They were made of energy. He wondered if they'd picked that up from him.

"…I'll pull the energy." Fleetway told him. "I'll— I'll worry about all of it. It'll… probably feel different? You just… worry about being Super."

"So like always?" Sonic asked. Even if before this he hadn't known.

"Like always." Fleetway confirmed.

Sonic looked up at the sky. It was daylight. There were no stars out. Not yet.

Time to change that.

"Let's do it to it, then."

Fleetway nodded. Sonic felt something tug. A bizarre feeling.

The overwhelming panic came an instant after. Sonic almost chocked.

Something broke.

Sonic woke up with a gasp. Panic followed. Something was wrong, a primordial part of him screamed. Something was terribly wrong.

His mouth tasted of blood. He gagged. Fight or flight, tried to get to his feet—

Chains tugged him back. He hit the ground hard. Breathing labored and fast.

"…s-spark?"

The voice was timid and quiet and he took a second to even be able to look Fleetway's way. The demon looked…

Looked terrified, really. Huddled in the corner. Away from him. Staring at him.

"It went wrong." They said.

He looked down at his hands. He could hear echoes of screams in his ears. His gloves were missing. He didn't remember his claws being this sharp. His arms trembled as he stared and squinted past flaky green nail polish that no one ever saw anyways and saw crusted blood.

There was laughter in his ears. Sadistic laughter. It was in his voice.

He tried to croak out a question. His voice wouldn't come. His throat felt raw from screaming and he didn't know if that's why he couldn't speak.

It had gone wrong. He didn't doubt Fleetway. He gagged. He couldn't get the taste of iron out. He wanted water to drown it. He stared at the chains around his wrists. His body shook so much he could barely get himself to just kneel. It took him a full minute to recognize the make of them as distinctly eccentric and colorful. Experimental tugs revealed more resistance than just the metal chains. The chains were probably just for show, really. What would hold him in place was something else. Eggman's work.

He felt ill.

"Hedgehog."

He turned around. He was in a cell, his mind numbly suggested, and he was. More subtle, quiet panic set in. He needed out. He needed out soon. He couldn't be trapped again.

Eggman was standing there, on the other side of the bars and glass. The man spared a glance Fleetway's glance. But it was an unsure one. He couldn't see the demon, likely. Perhaps had noticed Sonic reacting in that direction, deduced something of interest was there, but not what. Or who.

Sonic didn't usually feel small next to Eggman. Even when he'd been little and his voice had refused to come to him no matter what he tried, even then he'd been able to find some bravado with which to taunt the man. Anger, outrage, annoyance, those he could deal with from Eggman, they were expected.

But there was something else in his gaze now. Something foreign. It made him feel small. It… made him feel his… age. Thirteen. A child. He hated it.

"What did you do to yourself, hedgehog?" Eggman demanded.

Sonic opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. And with his hands chained, he couldn't even sign. Couldn't ask what Eggman was talking about. Only dread it.

Eggman frowned. Not at the lack of reply but… at the nature of why there was no reply.

"…you're lucky I got to your first." Eggman admonished. "G.U.N. is trying to stir up a storm right now after what you did. Sage is jamming their systems. You'll have to see about how you clean up the mess you've made."

He stumbled to his feet. His legs were shaking, the shackles kept him from straightening up fully. He looked down and there was blood all over his fur.

It wasn't his.

He looked to Eggman. He couldn't decipher the man's gaze.

"The shackles are for safety." Eggman told him.

For who's safety? Not to keep him locked up. His heart was pounding. It wasn't really to keep him trapped. It was… to keep him contained. Controlled. For… safety.

"…l-let me go." He finally managed to croak. It came out like a mix between air and whimper. It was basically begging. It was embarrassing. But he needed out. Something had gone wrong. Really really wrong. He felt like the walls were closing in. He felt like a monster. He'd done something bad. Why couldn't he remember?

He spared a glance at Fleetway. They were curled up into a ball in the corner.

"Tell me what you did to yourself, hedgehog." Eggman demanded.

He couldn't find more words. All he could do was stare. The world felt fuzzy and surreal.

Eggman frowned. "…if you try anything, you'll get worse than just shackles."

It was the only warning he got before there was a click, and the shackles disengaged. He threw them off in a panic, heart pounding in his chest so loud he couldn't even really hear it. They weren't to stop him, and he knew, he knew because Eggman knew that to restrain him, it was key to stop his legs. It was useless otherwise. They were to make a point. His hands were shaking. There was dried blood on the snow-white fur patterns. There was blood all over him. It was on his shoes.

It was on his shoes.

"What did you do to yourself, hedgehog?" Eggman demanded, again.

He looked back. He felt disoriented. It took him multiple attempts on all the signs from how bad his hands shook. I don't know.

"You don't know." Eggman returned. It was flat. Unamused. "Don't mess with me, hedgehog."

He tried to gather up some scraps of bravado. Of indignation. Anything. As if that would make him any less scared. Why should I tell you anything?

"Do you know what you did, hedgehog?" Eggman asked.

He didn't. No.

Eggman stared at him for a moment longer. Seemed to consider his words very carefully.

"…you finished the battle." Eggman eventually told him. "Destroyed almost all the troops."

"…w-we killed them." Fleetway's feeble voice added.

The whole world seemed to shatter. For a full eternity, it seemed, Sonic couldn't even breathe. Couldn't think. The words didn't actually make sense, but his body knew their meaning, because his heart pounded hard, and his vision got fuzzy, and he didn't know where he was.

Destroyed all the troops. Half of them were Eggman's. Robots. Run off the mill. The others were… G.U.N was…

He wasn't sure when he wound up on the ground. His knees ached from the impact. Everything was fuzzy and wild around him. He couldn't breathe. The were was a hand holding him up. He couldn't breathe. His throat burned and he didn't know with what. Someone was screaming. He didn't know where he was. He felt filthy. He could feel all the blood. It was crusted on his fur. It was on his shoes. It was on his shoes.

It felt like an eternity. He felt like he was dying.

He was so tired.

Sage alerted him to this being a security risk at least four times as he moved Sonic.

Eggman was sharply aware that was the case. What he'd arrived to see on the battlefield was… well. It wasn't what he expected. Not from Sonic, at least. And he knew it was Sonic. He had, after all, tossed out the torn, blood-soaked gloves as soon as he had the hedgehog restrained.

And all of the footage he extracted from fallen robots showed the truth plainly enough.

But clearly, whatever had happened had not been done… with intention. The way the hedgehog shut down when he seemingly realized what had happened also made it clear enough. He didn't struggle as Eggman made to move him, and didn't react until long after Eggman had moved him to somewhere better.

If asked, Eggman did not have a blanket ready to go for him, and putting him on the couch with all the plush pillows was merely for convenience.

Metal Sonic was assigned to watch him. Eggman, of course, wasn't going to wait around for the hedgehog to become responsive again. The fact that he chose to go watch some TV instead of laboring on his latest evil plan in the room over was irrelevant.

Eventually, however, Metal pinged him that the hedgehog was moving again. And so he went to check on him. For safety.

The hedgehog looked ill, when he arrived.

"Are you back with me?" Eggman asked, as he walked in.

Sonic shifted, a little. Looked at him with bloodshot green eyes. His muzzle was wet with tears, his mouth rimmed with blood. He didn't reply, but at least he was reacting.

Eggman walked over, and handed the hedgehog a pack of wet wipes. Sat across from him. Watched how clumsy fingers with too-long claws awkwardly struggled to open the pack, and get a wipe. He tried to clean the blood from under his claws, from his hands. Wrapped in that blanket, he looked so small.

It was hard to reckon him with what Eggman had seen on the videos.

"What did you do to yourself, hedgehog?" Eggman asked, again.

Sonic stared at him helplessly. He knew something, Eggman knew he did. But still, he sounded so broken that when he said "i dont know" Eggman almost believed him.

Almost.

But he opted not to press any further.

"…well. But you know what you did, don't you?" Eggman pressed.

That wasn't me. Sonic feebly defended. He looked desperate to believe that. I didn't do it, I didn't. I would never do that.

"All the evidence says otherwise, hedgehog."

It wasn't surprising that Sonic was trying to deny it, though. Eggman could only imagine the hedgehog only looked a fraction of how miserable he felt. And he looked miserable already. Because after all, this was the hedgehog who refused to kill even him. The one who always played saint.

And now he'd gone and gotten blood in his hands.

Sonic didn't deny it.

"Whatever you did." Eggman started. He had theories, of course. About what Sonic had done. Who wouldn't? He in particular did. The dirty gold fur, the spiral red-eyes. It was like a macabre, twisted version of Super Sonic. Like the hedgehog had thrown himself through a fun-house mirror in a desperate bid to get what he needed to transform. "I don't want to see you doing it ever again."

Sonic didn't reply. Looked away. Wouldn't meet his gaze.

Eggman frowned. "…I'll cover for you this time, hedgehog. I'll have Sage pull some strings. G.U.N. shouldn't have been there anyways, so I'll get them to keep their mouth shut just this once. You can pretend you did nothing. That's what you want, isn't it? To say you haven't killed them?"

Sonic shook his head. But didn't elaborate. Didn't say anything. Eggman knew it was something along those lines. Noted that perhaps considering the innocent act an… act was a bit inaccurate. Sonic was terribly immature. Maybe he just didn't understand that killing didn't somehow make him irredeemable. He had, after all, extended forgiveness to many, many killers.

What shock he couldn't give it to himself.

"If this happens again, you'll have to deal with the fall out, hedgehog." Eggman threatened. "So. You know."

Nothing. Silence.

Eggman frowned. "Can you walk?"

Sonic didn't respond for a second. He was staring at his hands. At the claws. They were too sharp for a hedgehog, Eggman knew. Sonic probably knew too.

"…can you… give me the video?" Sonic numbly asked. "I know you have one."

"…are you certain you want to see it?" Eggman doubted the hedgehog was. He'd go watch it and shut down all over again. But he figured at that point whatever the hedgehog did was none of his problem.

"…yes." Sonic confirmed.

"I'll have Sage hand you a copy when you get to the exit." Eggman told him.

As long as whatever that had been, whatever Sonic had done, was never turned on him, he could care less.

Sonic stood, slowly. He was shaky. It was a foreign sight, because if anyone was ever steady on their feet, it was Sonic. He shrugged off the blanket, held himself with sharp awareness of the blood on his fur. Stared at nothing for a second, before stumbling off and finally managing a run. Eggman knew he'd find his way out. And he wouldn't leave without the video.

For his own part, he had research to do. He had no interest in using whatever the hedgehog had unleashed to his advantage, really it was likely it was some dumb adventure irrelevant to him that Sonic had once again gotten in, and that it would get resolved within a week or so…

But he could always prepare for the worst.

"I'm sorry."

The laughter still rung in his ears.

"I— i swear i— i didn't mean— i didn't know—"

He'd scrubbed off the blood so hard he was missing patches of fur.

"—i-it wasn't your fault, y-you didn't k-know either—"

His claws left groves on the sink. His hands were shaking too bad to use the clipper.

"n-no one has to k-know I promise I won't tell—"

His mouth tasted of blood all over again because he bit his tongue with too-sharp teeth.

"y-you're not a monster, S-Spark. W- we're not monsters."

He looked at Fleetway behind him through the mirror. They looked to be as much of a wreck as he felt. He remembered them curled up on the corner of cell when he woke up. When he went to play the video they said they didn't want to see it again. They remembered what happened.

He didn't.

They'd both done that.

"…what happened?" He brokenly asked. "…w-what was that?"

"i… i-i don't know." Fleetway managed, immediately. They didn't bleed. They'd been clawing at their arms, though. Perhaps Sonic should be more alarmed. But he felt like doing that too. Felt like biting. The foreign feel of his teeth and claws stopped him, however.

But you remember? He signed, after he managed to get himself to let go of the sink.

"I…" Fleetway's voice got small. "y-yeah. I— i felt like i was screaming for help but my voice wouldn't work. L-like someone was laughing through… through m-my mouth… I— Y-you were g-gone? T-there? I- I was afraid I'd—"

That something had happened to Sonic. And that it was his fault.

Sonic stared at the sink, for a second. The ghosts of screams echoed in his mind. Of laughter. Screams shouldn't be followed by laughter. Not laughter in his voice. He was going to be sick. Ill.

He wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon.

"…i…" And what did they even do? They'd tried something no one else had ever tried before. Already super was rare, and they'd tried it without the Emeralds, and it felt like some sort of dumb divine punishment that they'd become something else.

Something wrong.

"i— i'm sorry Spark." Fleetway managed. "I— I think it's— it's my fault, b-because I'm—"

Sonic shook his head. Held up a shaky hand for silence, and then clumsily clasped his fingers around Fleetway's own. Stared at the ground.

"…s'not your fault." Brokenly the words spilled out. Whenever he closed his eyes he could only see his own smile staring back at him, jagged and sharp, red spiral eyes, claws digging into metal and tender flesh alike. The video was all shaky. Clumsily strung together from different recordings. But he knew he wouldn't forget it. "…l-lets… hope we never have to… again."

"We won't." Fleetway returned, almost immediately. Then seemed to realize the weight in his words. "We… we won't. Right?"

Sonic didn't reply. Stared at the ground.

"S-spark?" He hated the fear in their voice. "We won't, right?"

Silence. Fleetway squeezed his hand. He squeezed back. They pressed a little bit closer. He couldn't help the tears.

He'd opened the floodgates, alright.

And they weren't good ones at all.