Miracle on Sonic's Street

Everyone who was anyone knew who the greatest Santa Claus skeptic on Mobius was.

Sonic the Hedgehog had never believed in anything he couldn't see, which included God, ghosts, and Santa Claus. He tried very hard not to laugh rudely at children who stood in line for hours, waiting to sit on Santa's lap at all the malls, the endless giggling on schoolyard playgrounds of what Santa was going to bring…just as he laughed about people being afraid of ghosts on Halloween.

Sonic didn't hate Christmas. He was no Scrooge. He loved Christmas. You might say that the holiday season is a time when heroes thrive, because love and joy and giving surround us. Sonic loved Christmas not only because of the love and joy and selflessness alive in all hearts, something he held all year round on his good days (which overwhelmed his bad days by far), but also for the same reasons children liked it—presents, sweets, and Christmas ham. Yes, he loved a good Christmas feast, and was the last person to turn down seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths.

That's why his mind was elsewhere as he stood in line with Cream, Tails, and Amy to see Santa Claus. Sonic was not one to stifle his friends' enthusiasm. Vanilla was off shopping for presents, he knew Amy was on top of things. No, Sonic's mind was on the chilidogs he could distinctly smell from the food court on the next floor. His belly gave a long, low rumble, and he bit his lower lip against a groan as he covered his stomach with his hand. How long had they been standing here? Hours? Minutes? Sonic wasn't good at judging time, and he never wore a watch, which probably counted for his unintended fasts and lateness to appointed dates. He yawned, scratching himself.

Cream was bouncing up and down excitedly, looking cute in a red dress with green bows in her hair and white feathery trim on the wrists of the velvet dress and around the hem of the skirt. Amy had much the same look, except the reverse on colors, looking stunning in green—a color she rarely wore. It really brought out her eyes, Sonic thought. Tails, meanwhile, sported green gloves with little mute bells on the cuffs. Sonic did his part—Cream had given him a pack of festive shaped rubber bands, the two most interesting sported on his cuff. But he didn't see the need to stand here any longer. He began to tap his foot impatiently.

Amy saw him and rested a gloved hand on his arm, throwing him a pleading look. Sonic huffed. The line wasn't all that long…he could stand to be patient for twenty minutes.

He leaned towards Amy to converse, simply out of habit to keep his mind off impatience and the nagging hunger that was building in his chest. "Done with all your shopping?"

Amy smiled. "I never know what to get you."

Sonic gave a muted chuckle. "What's the fun in asking me what I want? You're my stalker. You figure it out." He poked at her in a friendly manner. She giggled, taking his hand.

"How about you? Are you all done?"

Sonic grinned. "Think I've got everyone. Except Vanilla. Any hints?"

"She's looking for a new whisk this year."

"Remind me what that is again?"

Amy sighed, pointing to a sign on the William Sealona store window. Sonic nodded. "Oh. Okay. What did you get her?"

"A cookbook."

"Again? How many of those things do girls need to own?"

Amy laughed softly. "To keep up with two growing boys with hungry stomachs?"

"Good point," Sonic frowned. Thinking about food was making him hungrier, and he wasn't all that happy about it. "Think we can snag a muchie after we're through with this?"

"Think the kids could go for that fancy hot chocolate they have at Beverage World. Why? You need a chilidog?"

"Running around the world certainly charges for gas mileage."

"I guess that gives you an excuse for eating like a glutton."

They shared a laugh at that. The kids each got a chance to sit on Santa's lap and ask for what they would, while Sonic and Amy watched. Both of them were acting as Santa to the younger ones, and didn't need the comfort of a stranger's knee. Some older teens bustled past Sonic and co as they were heading to the food court and settled next to Santa on the couch. The hedgehog's fur bristled. He didn't believe himself, but he hated it when people his age and older made a mockery of childhood hopes and dreams. It was villainy, in a way.

Sonic stopped in William Sealona to snag Vanilla's present and borrowed Amy's oversized purse as a means of storing it from the elder rabbit's eyes. Then, claiming he was going to pass out if he didn't eat soon, to the entertainment of his clan, they all moved upstairs to the food court for some rich hot chocolate, good food, and gossip.

Tails and Cream tittered on and on about what they were asking Santa for while Amy and Sonic listened, in the hopes they'd hit the jackpot for presents this year. Sonic got his chilidogs, which made him considerably happier and warmer, and was able to safely daydream.

"I'm really hoping to get that new power wrench I've been eyeing for some time," Tails was saying. "It's got everything I need to improve the Tornado One."

"I'm hoping Santa will bring me the pair of pink gloves I've been wanting," Cream bounced excitedly in her seat, sucking the candy cane Santa had given her. "Oh! I can't wait till Christmas! Can you, Tails?"

Tails shook his head. "No way! I won't be able to even sleep tonight! I'm too excited."

"Maybe the hot chocolate was a bad idea, Ames," Sonic joked. "They're all riled up."

"Nuh-uh!" Tails protested.

"No way!" Cream affirmed.

Sonic laughed. "C'mon, there's Vanilla. It's getting late, you two. Let's go."

"C'mon, my sleigh riders," Amy encouraged good-naturedly as she hooked her arm through Sonic's unconsciously when he began to walk off.

"Let me help, there, Vanilla," Sonic offered, taking some of the bags from the elder rabbit.

"Momma, what's in the bags?" Cream asked.

"I needed more bows to lay out for Santa. He told me he's running low."

"Yeah, right," Tails muttered, fast becoming a skeptic like Sonic. But Cream believed every word; you could see it in her eyes.

"Hoo boy," Sonic remarked. Everyone laughed as they piled into the car for the ride home. Sonic hooked his headphones to his ears to help ease his carsickness, and fell into a dreamless sleep with rock music blasting in his ears.

CHISTMAS EVE

Christmas Eve at the house of Amy Rose. The tree was set up and fully lit, with dozens of assorted ornaments adorning the branches. Vanilla and Amy were performing last minute wrapping in the guest bedroom to prepare for "Santa Claus" once they could be sure the children were asleep. Sonic stuck around as long as he could, but the holidays always made him sleepy. Not long after Tails and Cream retired, he was gone, too.

Staying in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs, Sonic tossed off his shoes and laid them by the door with care. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, and made sure the children were safe in bed. He knocked on the stairwell three times, a signal the girls could begin their work.

After catching up with his favorite comic book, Sonic bunkered down beneath the covers and turned off the light. It didn't take him long to fall into the twilight zone—that darned place just between waking and sleeping.

Sonic was just beginning to get a bit uncomfortable with the visions of ham dancing in his head when his tv turned on suddenly. It wasn't a news program, nature channel epic, or even a cooking show Amy loved to watch. It wasn't even reality tv! It was static. Just waves and waves of static.

"Buuurrruzzzzzzzz…"

"Ugh," Sonic sat up halfway in bed, groggy but awake. Even though he wasn't fully asleep yet, when he intended to sleep, his body was stubborn and heavy. And boy, was it determined to stay in bed! Sure, there were a lot of reasons to stay there and go back to sleep, but there was more of a reason to get up and see what was going on. Sonic swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretched and yawned until his mouth was a cavern and his jaw hurt, and wandered through the guest bedroom to see what was up. The walls in the bedroom were a subdued orange to match the sunset-colored bedding, but in the freaky white light of static, they looked a devilish red.

Sonic peered in the light. He wasn't sure what had turned on his tv right now, but from the faint sounds of confusion coming from downstairs, whatever had affected had effected the other tv, too. Sonic tried to hit the off button on the tv, but it wouldn't work.

"Dang slug!" Sonic hissed, as if cussing at the tv would make it turn off. No such luck. "Maybe the wires are…?" He took one look at the complicated set of wires and shook his head. Impossible; and the only mechanic in the house was fast asleep. Or…no?

"Sonic?" Tails's voice, faint, from the adjourning room.

"I copy, little bud. What's up?" Sonic had an easier time being awake when Tails was talking to him. He heard Tails get up, and correctly expected the yellow fox at his door. His best friend pushed his nightcap out of his eyes.

"You too, huh?"

"Yeah. I tried to turn it off, but no such luck."

"Do you think the wires are shot?"

"It's possible, but I only have a vague idea of what you said."

Tails gave Sonic a scolding look, and the hedgehog shrugged apologetically.

"Forgive me for not majoring in engineering before I could crawl."

"Like you forgave me for not being a track star before I was an hour old?" Reffering to times Sonic had teased Tails about being a tad bit too slow.

Sonic scratched behind his head. "Eh, heh…y'see…"

But before Sonic couls speak another word, Eggman's unwelcoming face appeared on the screen. And from the echoes beyond them, it seemed this was so in the entire house.

"Good morning, Mobius!" The obese doctor greeted with a pompous smile. "I bring you greetings from 'Santa's workshop' at the North Pole! Ah-heheheheh," Behind where he stood, Sonic and Tails (and anyone who was watching) could see Eggman's massive robot army loading billions of presents from something that very much resembled a sleigh to a massive capsule tank, like the one he kept flickies or wisps in, way back when. "As you can see, I have stolen all of the presents 'Santa' has brought you. Some of them I shall keep for myself, and the rest will be ground into oil for my robots to use as fuel." He began stroking his hairy moustache. "Soon, all of Mobius will be devoid of presents! And no one will get anything for Christmas but me! Haha ha! Or, should I say, ho ho ho!"

"Your fat may jiggle, and you may wear red, but you're no Santa Claus!" Sonic shouted. But the television turned off, and it was obvious Eggman couldn't hear him. The blue hedgehog clenched his fists and glanced over at Tails.

The yellow fox had hung his head sadly. "Now there won't be any presents for anyone," he sniffled.

"Don't cry, Tails," Sonic couldn't stand tears. He almost hated them more than waiting. Maybe he did. "Don't say that. I'll get them back."

Tails looked up at his brother, possibly the only family in his life, tears swimming in his eyes. "But Sonic! Even you're not that fast! You can't be in a hundred places at once!"

"Don't say I 'can't' do anything!" Sonic chuckled, though inside his heart, he knew it was a daunting task to complete in one night. "Go back to bed. I'll figure something out." He opened his arms, offering Tails the hug he needed. Tails welcomed the affection, trying not to ruin the rare gesture with tears. Sonic never hugged anyone, so it was rare proof of his love for his friends—his family.

After Sonic saw Tails back to bed and made sure Cream was still fast asleep, he went downstairs. Amy and Vanilla were standing, nonplussed, in the middle of the dark living room, lit only by Christmas lights.

"Sonic!" Amy cried. "I don't know how, but Eggman, he—"

"I know, Amy. I saw the broadcast." Sonic responded wearily.

"What are we going to do?" The pink hedgehog half-sobbed in despair.

"Dunno, I haven't thought that far ahead. I guess my first clue," Sonic sat heavily on the couch, "is the North Pole."

"The North Pole of Mobius is mostly ice," Vanilla reminded him softly. "You can't run very well on ice…it's a bit ineffective."

"It's a lot ineffective." Sonic admitted with a grave nod, alternating between sitting, standing, and pacing. "I don't know how, but I have to. I have to."

"There's not much you can do on an empty stomach," Amy reminded him softly. "I'll go make you something."

"Thank you," Sonic replied distractedly. He wasn't starving, but a good meal—even a small one—would make his work faster, warmer, and easier. He tapped his fingernails against his shoes, tightening their straps from when he'd put them on in a hurry he couldn't remember. The past was like a blur to him, Eggman's words echoing in his mind until his head began to thump painfully from the never-ending echoes.

"I'll go help," Vanilla exited quietly, seeing he needed to be alone. Sonic wore down the carpet with his pacing for a bit, thinking as hard and as fast as he could until words were spinning around his head like a tornado.

Snow. Ice. Cold. Fast. Snowshoes? Ice skates? How to run without wearing out the blades…figure or hockey? And how to carry all those gifts…

His mind raced until he couldn't think anymore, until the snack Amy had made him—a simple ham and three cheese—had long ago gone cold, until his head hurt from the endless flow of words and his legs ached with the strain of repetitive movements.

Sonic sat down at last, rubbing his legs to warm the muscles. As he did so, though, he noticed something glowing just beneath the chimney in the false fire place. The glow was soft and golden, almost like a lit ember. Sonic hesitated a moment, before he picked it up. It was a letter, shut with an unidentifiable wax seal.

Of a reindeer that appeared to be…flying.

Sonic tore open the letter and looked at the elegant script in a reflective gold ink. Even in the dim lighting, it shone as if giving off its own light. Sonic didn't think about it too hard and concentrated instead on the words written on the page:

Dear Sonic the Hedgehog,

For tonight, I will lend you my powers of magic I know you'll never believe. You will find my hat, my coat, my sack, and my boots to be at your disposal tonight. It is up to you to save Christmas, and I know you will.

The boots will amplify your speed enough, and will support you on ice, besides. The coat will keep you warm and keep ice and snow from your eyes as you travel. The sack will hold as many presents as necessary and never be heavier than you can bear. It also knows which presents go where. The hat will serve to hide your identity when you need it and keep your ears warm besides.

With love to a hero,

S.C.

Sonic looked up from the letter and saw the items mentioned. The warm red coat trimmed with white rabbit fur, the boots as black as soot, the white bag that could carry a million presents and more, and the telltale red hat with the white trim and merry pompom Sonic saw on all of the dime store Santas that were everywhere this season. He didn't stop to think about the letter he had red. He only tucked it into his sock to make sense of later. As he pulled on the gear, he felt it tighten to fit his body, and breathed a sigh of relief. Eggman was no Santa Claus, but he was certainly fat enough to be one!

With that, Sonic set off to save Christmas, his head still swimming from the impossibility of it all.

CHRISTMAS EVE, NORTH POLE

"Ahhh," Eggman was sipping a steaming mug of hot chocolate, relaxing in his hover chair as he gazed upon the work his robots were doing. "What a most wonderful night to be rotten! I do love irony."

"Hey! Eggman!"

That voice made him start so suddenly that he very nearly spilt his cocoa on himself. "Sonic? It can't be!"

But yet, there he was. Dressed as a Santa Claus, no less! Eggman grinned slyly, wishing he had a camera. "The biggest Santa skeptic on Mobius…posing as one?"

Sonic was tapping the snow off the shiny black boots he was wearing. "I'll need a disguise when I'm delivering the presents…" he offered a sly smile of his own, his green eyes a live wire beneath the white fur trim of his hat, "…after I'm through kicking your butt."

"You wish." Eggman laughed. "Scrooge-bot! Attack!"

Sonic stretched as a black robot that resembled the Grim Reaper appeared out of the shadows. Eggman jumped into his hover craft to pilot the massive beast. The creature lashed out with its silvery scythe, but Sonic was faster. Even weighed down by clothes (which weighed almost nothing now as he battled), he still enjoyed the same freedom to move. Try as the robot might to shoot its lasers and get a grip on him with its spidery hands, no way it was catching this hedgehog! Sonic toyed with the robot a little longer, dancing away from lasers while humming Christmas anthems, and then aimed a spindash at its glowing center and attacked.

The robot groaned as he went through it, and then it fell to pieces, the doctor being forced to retreat. Sonic landed in the hover chair Eggman had occupied a few seconds ago and sunk down into it. He took a moment to catch his breath while all the robots scattered and then, at the speed of sound and faster, he gathered up all the presents and set about delivering them in the most creative ways he could come up with. He slid down chimneys (his lean body fit the bill without magic, but Sonic supposed Santa Claus would have to use magic to accomplish that feat!), he jimmied the locks on back doors, he even climbed through windows!

At every stop, presents in the bag lit up with a soft green or red glow to show him which ones belonged here, there, and every where. He set the presents up with care, quieter than any mouse, and made his swift exit. Sometimes, when he was tempted by hunger that, for once, to him was distant and unimportant compared to the work at hand, he would snag a cookie or two left out for 'Santa,' figuring since he was doing the old man's job, he certainly deserved as much.

Before his mind could register the fact (faster than he'd ever traveled in one night), he was two houses away from where he was staying at Amy's. From bed. Sonic set up the presents that belonged at this house and lingered in an unfamiliar living room. Five stockings hung from the chimney here, a small family Amy knew. They were Flann, Fletcher, something with an 'f,' three children and a mother and father. The fire in their fireplace cackled, and the sofa invited his weary form to recline. But worst of all, the warm cookies placed here made him realize his purpose.

His stomach growled loudly, the most noise he'd made all night. He pressed a hand weakly at his chest, mad with hunger. He devoured the cookies in three bites leaving nothing but crumbs, barely tasting them on his lips. He was no where close to being sated, and he had to get going. One more house and then Amy's. His bed awaited him, and it was nearly dawn. He'd lingered far too long. Quick as a wink, he was gone.

The next house was not remarkable in his memory, though he couldn't resist taking the cookies again. It wasn't stealing—after all, they were meant for whoever was playing the part of Santa tonight—and these proved to sit a bit longer in his stomach, his body winding down from a long night.

Sonic came back to Amy's house to find everyone fast asleep. He set up the presents as fast as he could and collapsed into the couch. Only now, when he'd stopped, did he realize how tasking his heroics had been.

His heart was pounding like a gorilla against his ribcage, trying with all its might to get out, his legs and feet throbbed painfully as if a thousand needles were stuck inside them, his ears were cold and windblown, his breathing fast and labored. He almost felt like he was getting a cold! And, oh, the hunger! As if he'd been fasting for an entire year, or more! His stomach had a noisy, grand old time, and he felt he couldn't move, for worse of wear.

When he thought about it, and went to remove the borrowed clothes, they were gone. It was as if they'd vanished into midair.

Sonic chuckled to himself, finally pulling himself to his wearied feet, trembling as his legs supported his weight again. "I lost twenty pounds from that," he panted, glancing towards the chimney, "so riddle me this: how are you as fat as Eggman?"

A single snowflake danced down the chimney and landed at his feet. A faint laugh, a faint ghost of a sound, echoed through the night: "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

CHRISTMAS MORNING

Excitement and wrapping paper made a merry scene warmer. Tails was playing with his new gadgets—notably a miniature remote-controlled helicopter—and Cream was busy hugging her new stuffed toy and playing with her new dolls, dressed in new Christmas clothes. Amy and Vanilla sat surrounded by clothes and cookbooks, Sonic by gift cards and guitar strings. He was happy, but insatiably exhausted. His three hours of sleep before the children's rallying call had not been enough to expel his full night. Or the emptiness of his stomach.

In the commotion, Amy got up and crossed the room, confused. "There's one more for you, Sonic." She sounded so mystified, that Sonic had to laugh.

"Toss it here." Amy did as she was told, and he caught it with ease.

The gift tag read: A small thanks for all your help. From: Santa Claus

The End

WEEE! I GOT SONIC COLORS FOR CHRISTMAS! I'm up to the Starlight Park place. O.O

Let me know what you think of the story, or drop me a line as to how the holidays are treating you! Merry Holidays, everyone!

~Sylvie