So this is Stay Sonic continuity, that old-school early 90s canon where Sonic was a normal brown hedgehog before using the treadmill that turned him blue. I wrote this some years ago, lost it, found it, and thought it would make an okay one-shot.


Bodyguard


A regular day in the western Green Hill forest consisted of foraging, foraging, and more foraging. At least, for the most part. With Sally Acorn, it consisted of yelling, yelling and more yelling at Johnny Lightfoot to quit chucking water balloons at her while she was doing a great deal of the aforementioned foraging.

"I don't know where you got those from, Lightfoot," she growled down at him from up an apple tree, "but when I find out..."

From the ground, Johnny snickered, still remembering the time he'd switched her cherry cake for an exploding one.

"And you!" she snarled at Flicky, the bluebird hovering next to her. "You're supposed to be my bodyguard! Not stuffing your face!"

Flicky almost choked on his apple at Sally's outburst; he hadn't been paying attention, and she could be pretty scary when she was angry. "But I'm hungry. How can I catch Johnny if I'm running low on steam, eh?" Johnny definitely lived up to his name: he was light on his feet, which made him very annoying to catch.

"I have to do all the work around here," Sally grumbled to herself, angrily shoving apples from the tree into a small basket. "No-one appreciates me for it … And yet, when winter comes, you're both scrounging for the food I worked so hard to save. You two are a couple of useless bums. Why couldn't I have someone more useful for neighbours?"

Flicky usually ignored Sally's rants. Truthfully, they were all good friends. They were all orphans, but since Sally was the eldest, it meant she tended to be the most responsible, and was always hard at work while the others played. She had acquired a rather short temper as a result, but she meant well and she did care about them… it just rarely showed.

Right now, he had a good reason not to pay attention. He was looking across the clearing at a group of newcomers, who had just crossed the river. Two of them he recognised; the other he did not. There was Joe Sushi, a fat walrus with a silver whisker-like moustache, Chirps, a young chicken who also lived here under Sally's "care", and a small penguin.

"Don't look now," he said quietly, "but here comes Joe. And it looks like he's brought a new friend."

"Joe?" said Johnny seriously, sitting up suddenly as he realised something. His rabbit ears pricked up in alarm. "Uh oh…"

Sally's reaction was a little more controlled. Joe was from the Labyrinth Zone but it was rare to have outsiders visit the western forest. There were only a few creatures living here, a tightly knit group of animals residing in burrows and caves. There was a town further east, full of shops and merchants – and people. Though Sally, Johnny and the others preferred the sanctity of the forest, every other Mobian visited the Green Hill Zone to see the bustling town. Why Joe chose to hang out here instead was anybody's guess.

Probably because he's too fat to make it all the way into town, Sally thought dryly. She climbed down the tree, as Flicky flew to greet Joe and Chirps. Now that they were closer, she could see that both Joe and the penguin were carrying a curled bundle of brown spines between them. Initially she thought it was some kind of cactus-like vegetable, or brown weed. The penguin introduced himself as Tux, and rolled the mass off Joe's back, gently onto the grass next to Johnny. Sally bent down to inspect it.

"Why… it's a hedgehog!"

"Uh-huh!" affirmed Chirps.

"Is it breathing?" Flicky asked.

Tux nodded. "I found him by the river, while I was on the way to meet Joe."

"Yeah," said Joe, "We kinda figured here would be a good place to bring him."

Tilting his head sideways, Johnny looked at the hedgehog thoughtfully as Sally unfurled it from its protective ball position. Quite young, perhaps younger than Chirps – who, at five years old, was the youngest out of the Green Hill group.

"Jeez," said Johnny, "picking up strays, are you now?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you're all strays," snapped Sally. She stood up, stubbornly folding her arms. "I don't know who made me den-mother. I most certainly will not be looking after this guy too."

"I can't do it," said Joe, "I live in the water."

"Same here," agreed Tux. "Hedgehogs are woodland creatures, not water ones. Besides, my parents would kill me."

"Maybe he has parents too?" said Chirps hopefully, though it sounded as if he didn't want the hedgehog to have parents.

"I don't think so…" said Tux, and Chirps grinned with delight. "I've seen him before sleeping rough on the streets in the Spring Yard Zone. Maybe someone decided to bump him off."

"Poor thing," said Johnny sadly.

"Yes. Poor thing," snarled Sally viciously, making it clear from her tone that Johnny would be in the same position if he didn't quit being such a troublemaker.

"That's why we thought it'd be a good idea to bring him here," said Joe. "We couldn't just leave him. There's nowhere else … Oh, that reminds me – while I'm here," he added, looking at Johnny, "do you or don't you have that 20 Mobiums?"

"Uh…" said Johnny.

Joe sighed. "You said you were going to give it back three days ago..."

"I'm only nine," said Johnny miserably. "I live in the forest and I don't have a job. What makes ya think I have 20 Mobiums to give?"

Joe sighed again. "I was supposed to use that money to buy an antique for Mr Whiskers, but never mind… guess I'll have to save up. Did you get what you wanted, in the end?"

"Yeah. A golden carrot trophy. Plus, a box of 'Billy Thimble's 1000 Ultimate Jokes and Pranks'." Johnny blurted this out before realising his grave mistake.

Sally's tail twitched, and she glared at Joe. "Are you telling me that you're the reason my cherry cake exploded in my face?"

"Ah… well… it's not my fault!" Joe spluttered desperately, trying – and failing – to placate the irate squirrel.

"You should know better than to give Johnny money," tittered Flicky.

"He said he was going to use it to buy Sally a present!" Joe insisted.

"I did! Her cake made the best explosion ever!"

"All right – that's it!" she snapped, finally losing her temper completely. "Get that hedgehog out of here! I will not be looking after another bum!"

"Why don't you try telling that to him, then?" said Flicky, and everyone looked at the hedgehog.

He was stirring.

He sat up slowly and opened his eyes. They took a few moments to focus, but when they did, they became bright and alert. He looked around at all the strange faces around him, and panicked. For a second it looked like he was going to run away, but Chirps immediately beamed at him.

"Yay! A new friend! We can do tons of cool stuff together!" he cheered happily.

Evidently Chirps was elated to have someone nearer his own age to play with. The hedgehog looked rather nonplussed at seeing a chicken attached to his arm, but he relaxed and smiled a little in return. The emotion on his face was tangible: it seemed to say, 'Someone actually likes me!'

"Please, please, please, please, please can he stay?" Chirps asked hopefully.

Sally saw the same innocent, hopeful look mirrored in the hedgehog's face, except his was a little more tired, a little more desperate.

Oh, great, thought Sally, who recognised the signs of a child who needed a home. He really was too young to be out on his own. How can I refuse him now?

The hedgehog's stomach rumbled, and that sealed the deal.

"All right," said Sally tiredly, "but only until we can find somewhere else for him to stay. I honestly don't think we have room for one more person…"

"Great!" smiled Joe. He clearly felt his good deed for the day was done. He waddled round 180 degrees, to go back the way he came with Tux. "I'll see you guys later."

"And if this hedgehog messes up," Sally called after him, "I'm blaming you!"

Joe's smile vanished.


A little later, Chirps and his new friend munched on something to eat, while Sally resumed her apple collecting. Flicky was knocked out of the air by a humungous Johnny Lightfoot water balloon, leaving Sally to fend for herself for a while – until the hedgehog changed the rules of the game slightly by jumping on Johnny's supply of balloons before they had a chance to hit her. Unsurprisingly, the balloons didn't last very long against someone armed with so many spikes. Once the ammunition had run out, he giggled happily (even though – or perhaps because – he was wet), and turned his attention to Johnny, scrambling towards him. Johnny was half-annoyed and half-amused (annoyed because his balloons had all been destroyed, amused because he knew the hedgehog couldn't catch him), but it was easy for him to run out of the way every time the hedgehog came near.

Flicky shook his feathers, to get rid of the water, and he puffed up like a startled blowfish. "Give it up, little guy. Johnny's too fast. You'll never catch him."

But the hedgehog was determined to catch him. Johnny was far too quick and agile for the younger animal, but he made the mistake of stopping to taunt him. What happened next came naturally to the hedgehog. It was just like ricocheting off the bumpers in the Spring Yard Zone. Before Johnny could react, he took a running start, leapt up and rolled into a ball, hitting Johnny squarely in the chest. Johnny made a whuff! noise as he was downed. He was forced to stop pestering Sally for the rest of the afternoon as he painfully removed several quills that were embedded in his fur.

Sally laughed at the rabbit - a little too evilly for Johnny's liking.

"I've think I've found my new bodyguard," she said.