For an October writing prompt list. I'll try my best to update this story everyday until the end of the month!
i. angels
"Well aren't they little angels?"
It came out as more of a quiet statement than a question, not at all pompous as he'd planned it to sound.
The older scientist continued to stand quietly besides the cribs lined up in a neat row, taking up a small portion of the otherwise large, carpeted room. A book case towered from across the room, filled to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes, a multitude of toys peeking out from a box to his right that would've otherwise matched the bright colors of the room.
A lone rocking chair stood to the side.
The lines on his face only creased further at the reminder, making him look older than he felt.
"So these are my niece and nephews." Eggman gave a deep sigh, the moonlight reflecting off his spectacles and giving him a more somber glow.
Carefully placing a gloved hand on one of the cribs, a slight frown made his way to his lips, at war on what to feel. One life had been sacrificed for theirs, and while logically it should sound reasonable, it still didn't help that even as he watched the sleeping babes rest for the night, he didn't feel a single ounce of remorse for thinking it hadn't felt like a fair deal.
He came here looking for closure, he admitted to himself sardonically, but instead he only felt...incomplete.
But there was nothing else he could do besides stare, as if willing for some sort of epiphany to manifest itself from the small bundles of life and tell him why she wasn't here anymore.
As he proceeded to exit the room, he stopped for a moment upon noticing that the small figure that still stood with his arms crossed, shoulders still remaining taut and demeanor on the defensive side. It was obvious he'd been watched the entire time, the hedgehog more than likely ready to strike from behind at one wrong move despite the obvious signs that the grim situation was weighing heavily on even his shoulders, but at that moment the older male didn't care much to lay a sarcastic remark.
For once in his life, the scientist felt pity for the creature. Maybe even empathy, but he couldn't show it; years of seeing the red-striped anthropomorphous as an enemy had hardened him too much, and no cousin of his, dead or alive, could've ever changed that.
Matching his gaze, the, once again, solely living Robotnik muttered gravelly, a strange sort of understanding passing between them, "You take care of them, Shadow", before heading down the empty corridor and leaving the silent home without another word.
Kind of don't like how this turned out, but let me know what you think! :)