Episode 1:

A Hero's Homecoming

"You don't know a character until you've seen what they do when they're out of the danger; you don't know a character until you've seen what they do on a normal day..."

This is the quote I'm going with. After having worked a bit more on Deprivation, I've decided I need some thing fresh. The commitment of a full fic is overwhelming after a while and always returning to the same plot has come to bore me. Thus came the idea of this series. So far on this site, I have failed to see any real depictions of normal life. The stories are always about what happens to our heroes when 'Robotnik' strikes or the world is in danger. The only normal stories I have seen are romances and life isn't about that. That is why I'm trying something new. Every 'chapter' I add here will be a fresh start; every chapter will be a different story, branching off of this one right here. This story is the answer to those of you wondering about the motivation of Forgotten? and A Collection of Misplaced Feelings. In a sense, all of the Sonic stories I've done for this site will be connected in this. This is an exciting project to me, and I myself am excited to see where it goes. This isn't going to have high drama like my other stories do, making it different for me. I may even go so far as to include characters like Amy, depending on the direction this goes.

This is far future SatAM, folks and my interpretation of it. This episode will be longer than the others as well, seeing I spend a good amount of it developing what has happened to the three main characters up to that point. The title on this series is also tentative, so don't be surprised if it's changed in someway or another. Nonetheless, enjoy everyone! I'm hoping to snag a review or two on this one.

(I will post an editted version (meaning for spelling and grammar) of this story later, unless I find there aren't an overwhelming amount of errors in it.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sally, Tails, or Sonic.

The city of Mobotropolis was a wondrous achievement in Mobian history. Had someone visited the location as little as two years prior, it would've been a wasteland; three, a hideous, smog-infested factory. After a remarkable recovery, however, it almost resembles what it had been. Quaint little townhouses crowded the streets. Small shops and businesses were dispersed everywhere. Bright whites and pastels filled the area.

Mobians rustled and bustled to and fro. Some had jobs to do; others had homes to make. The city was an ongoing recovery project; so much had been done yet so much had yet to be finished. New businesses were opening daily. Government was slowly but firmly being reestablished. Schools were being built; trees were being planted; routine was slowly unfolding. There was no such thing as serenity in a developing city either. To say there was a such thing as peace in Mobotropolis was a complete fib; if anything. Life was always moving. Life was always speeding ahead. Life was always trying to catch up…

For all those lost years.

Nevertheless, excitement filled the air. It was late spring and after about three years of restoration, the city was finally having a formal celebration. The summer solstice festival was being advertised for miles across; banners with the bright yellow sun and orange letter were lie on every light-pole; every empty wall; every bulletin board. Rumors of the celebration scattered to every crevice.

And then there was some speculation, merely some; but all the same some; that a certain someone may be coming back. A hero that had been gone for so long the entire town couldn't help but be fascinated with him.

"Where is he?"

The same lines echoed back; the same lines had been used in the past. For a different person; for a different time; and then again, sometimes she could just see herself there; still waiting by that junk pile; forever waiting…

But times had changed. The days were different. What had once been a pile of paper of military plans was now a pile of new bills; of the new political excess paperwork that confined much of her time to her desk. The time she spent at her desk; studying, reading, signing, and occasionally, when there was time to spare, writing. It seemed to be the only place she had new authority. It seemed to be the only place there was complete respect and cooperation towards her words.

Nonetheless, she always seemed to find some way around her work to escape. She laid more reasonable excuses than any of her former colleagues had during that war (there was one in particular who she thought had a near dictionary of useless phrases to get out of certain jobs); she laid more reasonable excuses on her father than anyone else did in the kingdom. Ever since his restoration himself, she had at first been unusually close to him; nearly clinging to him; begging for the childhood she could've had…

She wanted to be his little girl for a while mentally. She wanted to be his child for a while sub-consciously, and he had full-heartedly accepted her company. He talked to her; they talked about useless things; her life during the war, her plans…

But never her dreams…

She didn't have the heart to talk to him about that; she didn't have the heart to talk to the King about anything of the sort. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem natural. And even with all that intellectual blabbering, there was a feeling deep down in her heart that couldn't talk to him. Though words poured out like a storm, she couldn't say the things that mattered; the things that were at the top of her heart. All in all, their relationship was cherished, but mute. There was some closeness but not a sufficient amount.

There would never be the closeness she had with him…

Memories played on in her head like a music track. A beloved song playing over and over; the same broken record going on and on on her jukebox; that same enchanted melody replaying in her mind. And somehow, through all the repeats, she never grew tired of hearing it. The idea never grew exhausted at all.

And through all those days hoping he'd come back; through all those letters that were never sent (and the ones that did, only to be returned a week later by the newly formed mail service, complaining the address on them was no longer sufficient), she still maintained hope. She still waited for that reply. She waited, with fading motivation, but nonetheless waited. She always boasted she had more patience than he did, anyway. Since when was she to be hypocrite to it?

Times had changed, and that was no understatement. Her blue boots swung back and forth understand the booth she was sitting at. Her matching vest was still done the same way as it had been years ago. Her auburn hair, tied up into that perfect ponytail, although slightly longer, was still the same; her bang were still a predominate asset of her face. The longer hair was a symbol to her, at least. Allowing her hair to grow longer was a sign the war had ended; was the sign something could go free. Out of preference, however, she hadn't let it grow completely. Functionality was no longer the motivation behind her hair style, though it was the reason for her ponytail. The motivation of her hair could be summed to four words; she kept it longer for herself, but more importantly, her friend. Those evenings when there were events at the castle, it always gave her yet another reasonable excuse to slip out and visit someone old. It was her friend's smile, her friend's chuckle that always made it worth it.

'Wha' am 'ah goin' do with you, Sally-girl," weren't those the words that were typically said?

It always seemed to warm her heart hearing them; promptly and typically. Her blue eyes took on more of a mysterious, distance gaze as she stared outside the big glass window; the giant glass window their favorite booth was always at. It was the reason that had attracted her before; the fact that staring out it she could see everything that was going on; all the people running about.

She could see right out that window everything she had fought for; everything she was continuing to strive for and it was well worth it. The dull, earth tones of the Twilight Café had slowly won her. The brown panels on the window were always a landmark site for her eye. The mustard color on the walls was always a relaxing sight; the key lime signs advertising new flavors; the chalkboard with the neatly written 'blends of the day'; the smell of coffee beans and herbal tea always seemed to serenade her. Calm piano always softly played over a loud speaker, but it was classic music that struck her. It wasn't formal; it was modern. It wasn't the elaborate, string pieces that were played during her father's 'regal' affairs. It was youthful; it was luring; it was new.

The Twilight Café had become Mobotropolis' most overlooked and neglected businesses. While most Mobians her age; ripe in youth preferred the newly-built dance club; the tall gray building with the flashy rainbow neon lights, it was easy for Princess Sally to say she'd prefer an evening spent drinking tea and chatting with an old friend, keeping low-profile in the small café. The building had become a second home to her. She brought her work there; she ate her lunches there after morning political meetings.

It was the first place she turned to in the town, and one of the places she spent the most of her time at; second to the castle. The restored Castle Acorn had been everything she could've dreamed or hoped for. It was beautiful; it was refined; it was elegant. The Mobians there all fit those three adjectives; the Mobian she was there perfectly fit those three adjectives. There was a fourth adjective, however, when all three were in combination. It was one word; in the castle, Princess Sally was positively and absolutely fake.

It wasn't out of preference, it was out of obligation. All for duty; that is. The word 'princess' never seemed to strike out more in her name. Everywhere she went she was recognized as it; no longer a person, merely a title. And through it all, it was the one aspect she chose to ignore.

The brown door to the café swung open fifteen minutes later, and through it came a two-tailed fox. He was late for something; it was evident by the glance in his blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Aunt Sally! I lost track of time!"

"It's alright, Tails." A warm smile. "I almost lost track myself. There's been so much work that's been needed to be done on the paper. I spent most of my time yesterday helping set up the office."

"The paper? Oh! How is the paper, Aunt Sally? When's the first issue coming out?"

"We don't know. We're aiming to have it out by the first day of the festival, but right now it seems more of a distant suggestion than a definite. I've been talking to the core editor about it and-"

The fox grinned itself. It had been a long time since he saw his 'aunt' ramble on so happily about something. He always seemed to take fascination in her affairs; just the sound of her voice seemed to remind him of the days back; when he was a little kid himself. Miles Prower had grown impeccably during the time after the war. Having enrolled at one of the schools, but eventually being sent into city's developing university, he was happily working on majoring in mechanics. He was a student, but he was extremely happy to be in that position. He had a thirst for knowledge in the same way his 'aunt' did; at times she herself even remarked that he had gotten 'her mind'.

And when he'd bashfully deny it; reply he just couldn't with a slight blush, his 'aunt' would always giggle and shake her head. He may have gotten her mind, she'd say, but thankfully, he hadn't gotten that someone else's ego. Laughter would emerge from the two of them again and there'd be nothing but smiles.

It was no understatement that little Miles was the happiest around his 'aunt'. Time had pulled them apart however. Time pulled everyone apart. No longer did he hear her bedtime stories. He was lucky if he saw her daily; sometimes he was lucky if he saw her once a week. Spending a great deal of his time at the university and the rest in his workshop shortly outside the town, he was lucky if he had any time. So far he had worked up the blueprints for two major planes. So far he had built one and he couldn't have been prouder.

And upon showing it to his 'aunt'; upon her talking to him about her own worries; about her own amazement on how much older (and mature) he had gotten it had struck the two of them that they didn't spend enough time together. It had struck little Tails there and then that one of the two people he cared most about was right in front of him and that, with a little effort, he could see her more.

Thus came the idea of the meets at the café. At least once a week they met there and shared lunch. They talked about what had happened to them; they talked about the old days. Sally still gave him her Funny Kisses before he left; he'd still hug her whenever they met. It was his favorite time of the week and by the smile on her face, he could tell she felt the same. These visits typically fell twice a week and at the most, they had arranged meetings there everyday. It had been the best week the little fox had had in a long while.

"…and Tails? Tails, are you even listening to me, honey?"

His eyes shot up and he nodded. "Uhh…yeah, of course, Aunt Sally!"

"Are you feeling alright?" She laid a hand on his forehead, the same she wore her family crest on. He had always found it funny; the fact she wore a ring. He had once asked if it meant she was engaged and she replied it had. It meant she was engaged to politics. Though he had laughed with her at the time, it had never struck him before all that happened after the war what being 'the fiancée of politics' really meant. It hadn't really struck him that it really wasn't a funny thing; that politics were serious.

But maybe that was what his 'aunt' needed; some lightening up everyone in a while. The laughter was something he was always happy to share with her once in a while.

"…hmm…your forehead seems alright. I hope you're not getting a case of hedgehogitis, Miles. You know, the symptoms of it include increased appetite, ego, and attention deficit. I think you may have two…"

"Well, I am hungry."

"What would you like to eat, Tails? I'm not going to accept 'only a coffee, Aunt Sally' either. You're growing, Tails. You need your food."

"I'm too hungry for just a coffee. I can't wait until the subway system's finally finished Aunt Sally, because the fly here's exhausting…"

"From what my father told me, it's still going to be a couple months. We've been working on it for years though, Tails."

"It's gonna be so cool, Aunt Sally…"

"The word cool's an understatement. It's going to be way past cool, Tails. The opening ceremony should be in the fall…"

"The fall? We still have summer to go, Aunt Sally! That means I've still gotta fly here…"

"But you've gotten better at flying, Tails. The fact you can handle the distance on your own is impeccable. I'd take you over an airline any day."

"Yeah, the airline system's pretty cool though, Aunt Sally! They let me inspect on of their planes once. It was AMAZING!"

"Amazing, Tails?"

"No, it was-it was-I can't even describe it, Aunt Sally! I mean, just looking at that engine…"

She let out a giggle. "I'm glad to hear it, honey. I only wish politics could be that AMAZING…"

"Well, you get to make laws and stuff…"

"The legislature does that. The legislature, meaning my father..." Shaking her head, she sighed. "I can't wait to see the democratic government finally being intact to this city, Tails. Power to the people; we've fought for the concept so long in my father's court."

"Power to the people, Aunt Sally?"

"Mmhmm, meaning a representative government. Daddy will still oversee it, of course, but a basic republic government for the city. They'll be a mayor and city delegates. You as citizens will be able to vote and-"

"And it sounds pretty cool, Aunt Sally."

"That's right, Tails. That also means less work for my father. The mayor will handle a lot of the business my father does. You know how much my father gets worked up, Tails. It isn't good for his health. Ever since the end of the war, he's had so much to handle…"

"You've had so much to handle…" A lingering frown.

"I have to do it, Tails, you know that…"

"But it's so much, Aunt Sally."

"I know…"

There was silence between them for a while.

"But I'm hoping," Sally begun the conversation again almost shyly. "That once we get the paper up and in circulation, Daddy will let me be a regular reporter for it. Being a journalist will give me another reason to get out of the castle, Tails. Can you imagine it? Being able to report on all the stories? Writing about everything that's happening in the town? I don't mean politically, sweetie, but about common people. 'So-and-So Opens Up A New Shop'; 'Ms. Someone Celebrates Her Son's Homecoming'. Celebrations of normalcy, Tails. Recognition of the average people. Acknowledgements of something good. Th-there is good on Mobius, Tails. The paper before never emphasized it enough."

"What paper?"

"Any paper, Tails. Everyone makes the mistake of always focusing on controversial matters. Everyone focuses on bad news. Everyone focuses on politics. I want this paper to be different though. Nobody wants to hear about death. Even after the war, it still scares me seeing it. I'll never get used to it, Tails, and I think it's safe to assume the rest of the public feels the same way. There's something…special in simplicity, sweetie. No one needs to know the all details of everything that's going around. Some, but not all."

"Oh?"

"Oh." Another smile. "You know, Tails, we could really use a writer like you on the paper. I meant to ask you this before, but I was hoping you'd volunteer to write a column. It doesn't have to be daily; it can maybe be even monthly, but I want to hear your voice. The paper should have equal representation, Tails, and your age is just as important as mine or anyone above it."

"So you want me write a column? About what, Aunt Sally?"

"Anything, Tails. Anything that's important to you. Anything that's important to people in your age group. Just write to a general audience, Tails-no, write to your audience. I'd love to see what you come up with, honey. I've already talked to one of the editors about it, and they'd be delighted too. I've told him all about you…" Another dazed sigh. The princess's glance narrowed. "Now all we need…" her voice took more of a murmur.

"What do you need, Aunt Sally?"

"A good…cover story, Tails."

"Why don't you write about the festival Aunt Sally?"

"That was what I had in mind, but my editor said otherwise. We need to spread the topics of the issue…and besides, there's rumors floating around, sweetie, and everyone wants to-I want to-" Hesitation.

The fox nodded. "Know if he's back?"

"Did I make it that obvious, Tails?"

"You have this way, Aunt Sally. So did you get a letter from him?"

There was this way the topic always wandered back to the same topic; how it always flew back to him. The topic brought out the insecurity in both of them; the wandering curiosity. It was the one thing they felt the exact same way on; it was the one thing they both missed.

Ever since after the war, Sonic the Hedgehog had left Knothole. He had stayed for a bit; help with the freeing Sally's father; helped with the first restoration plans for the city. Then he had stated he was going for a while; to make sure 'Buttnik' and his cronies were beat for good. He said he wanted to see the world. He said he needed that one last adventure. He said he needed to for the people, but most of all, he needed to himself.

His promises to write were hardly kept. In the beginning, Sally had received letters from him on an almost weekly basis. As time went by, they became more scattered to the point she was lucky if she received one at all. She saved them all, however, and the days they did come there would always be a mini celebration among her and the original Freedom Fighters. Somehow, she'd always manage to get them together behind her father's back. She'd read them the letters and they'd have a small party. They'd talk about the war; they'd talk about their lives now…just the way it should be.

Tails, however, was always the first person who got to read the letters. She'd bring them with her to the café and there they sat; reading and analyzing them. 'Do you think he's thinking about us right now?' he'd ask. And she'd reply with something along the lines of 'Without a doubt'.

"…no, not yet, Tails. I sent another one out a week ago."

"Oh. Where's he supposed to be now, Aunt Sally?"

"Well, according to NICOLE and his last letter, he should be relatively close to here. I was thinking, Tails, if I could strike up some coordinates that we could take your plane out to look for him."

"Look for him? Oh, Aunt Sally, could we?"

"I don't know about this week, Tails, but I'd love to whenever you have the time."

"Well, school's almost done so how about on the first day of summer?"

"During the festival, Tails? I have to be there though. I promised Daddy I'd do a speech to introduce it."

"Couldn't you get out of it?"

"I've promised him for months, Tails and if things go as planned, I need to be there for the paper too. Don't worry though, as soon as the festival ends, I have a nice big gap in my schedule with your name written across it, Miles Prower."

A smile. "So we can finally take that vacation, right, Aunt Sally?"

"Right, Tails." She gave a thumbs-up. He smiled. The relationship between them hadn't changed at all. Staring about the café, the two were treated to a nice, near silence. Sally's eyes wandered out the window, as the fox continued to stare around the café. A couple sat at a booth across from theirs. A lady munched on her sandwich in the far corner. Tails smiled to himself, watching them.

The piano continued to sooth them until the bell on the door rang as it opened. "THERE'S A ROBOT IN THE STREETS! THERE'S A GIANT ROBOT IN MOBOTROPOLIS!"

All at once, shrills. The lady dropped her sandwich. The couple exchanged glances. Out the window, Mobians began to scurry into hiding. There was a bang and mini earthquake as the steps of the metal monster continued to hit the pavement. The coffees on the couple's table began to rattle. Giant had been too gracious for the robot. It had the appearance of a SWATbot with some modifications; bigger, but not gigantic.

"What should we do, Aunt Sal-" But before the kit could even finish, he noticed something else. A blue blur spun around the robot. A blue blur attacked from every direction. People began to crowd to the windows, watching, and Sally and Tails, having front seats couldn't help but exchanged puzzled glances themselves. It couldn't be-it wasn't possible-his last letter never mentioned-

But it was.

The robot falling to the ground, a blue hedgehog stopped beside it. A sleek twenty in appearance, he smirked at it, examining it and then looking away. "Is 'dat the best you've got?"

It was like he purposely was putting on a show to an audience. All at once, people poured once, crowding him and giving him wild applause. And like the performer he was, he bowed.

"A-thank you, a-thank you. It's good 'ta be back, ladies 'n gents!"

Thunderous claps. Random whistles. Squeals. Mobius's hero stood before them, in the flesh. He wasn't dead. He wasn't injured. He was as 'good-lookin' and cookin' as ever, in his uncle's words. Sally and Tails found their way out of the café, but they soon found they were just a part of one of the other bystanders.

"Well, Tails," Sally begun crisply, with a small smile. "I think we just found our cover-story."

And through all the cheers, through all the hedgehog's boasting and bowing, all the two friends could find to do was hug.