Notes: Heeeey, how's it going? Happy October everyone!

So, I left the Sonic fandom a little over three years ago (in case it wasn't painfully obvious), because of multiple factors that I won't get into here, but through the efforts Katiemonz, I think I'm back. For a while there, I was updating my stories because of a sense of obligation and not because I wanted to, and that's not a way to live, my friends. So, I'm beginning afresh with something new. I hope you don't mind if I add one more story to my pile.

Y'know, I considered holding this story until I had written more for it, but today is my birthday so I'm feeling indulgent. I don't know how often updates will be, considering I still want to write ahead, but they'll probably depend on reader response. If you like, review, you know?

This is a sort of alternate take on Sonic Underground. Sonic has a different past and Tails is here because, as anyone who reads my stuff can tell you, I have a wheelhouse and I don't stray. This is a new experience for me because this is the most linear story I've ever planned out, it's a bit grittier than my other stuff, and it's also the most action heavy. Take it easy on me, yeah?

Disclaimer: Eh.

Now, I'll leave you be. Please forge ahead!

Survivors

Chapter 1: Day 97

They were hiding under a collapsed overpass crawling with SWATbots when Tails's stomach growled. In the fragile silence of the hunt, it sounded like a runaway train, all woo woo we're over here! and Sonic nearly cursed as Tails made a small yipping noise in fear, glancing down at his belly like it has personally offended him. Fair enough—Sonic was really offended right now. How dare basic needs get in their way now, especially when fight or flight was supposed to suppress that kind of thing...!

He grabbed Tails and threw him over his shoulder as robot heads swiveled in their direction. Sonic was close enough to one to see its scanners flip to thermal mode, and he knew that it was definitely time to go. A quick glance around found at least twenty robots spread evenly, methodically, across the overpass, blocking access to the road and the city beyond, seeing as they were backed on to the water on the other side, and Sonic took about .2 seconds to decide which to hit first before springing.

It was after he had ground his feet into the bot's head, Tails screaming in his ear about alloys and their general springiness, that he realized he had miscalculated how much lift the resulting forces would give him. He fell short of the next robot and was forced to roll or else break his ankles, tucking Tails's head into his chest. The SWATbot, meanwhile, swung at him, arm falling like a metal club, and Sonic was forced to slide under, heaving Tails into the air when he realized that the clearance was too low. The fox yelled, unable to get his namesakes working in time, but Sonic was there to catch him, bouncing off the robot in a patented parkour move that allowed him to intercept Tails and slam his foot into the next robot.

His brain kicked back on after that, shock and surprise falling away to give in to a more calculated numbness. Trajectories formed his mind, allowing him to tag each robot and bound from one to another like a pinball, digging his quills into their exoskeletons, spraying oil every which way. It was quick work, especially now that the robots were panicking, heads swiveling around, unable to pinpoint him as their brethren fell to pieces around them. Tails was yelling again, numbers and equations that didn't make much sense, analytical brain putting together patterns faster than Sonic himself. He smashed his fists into the hedgehog's back, alerting him to a robot that he couldn't see and Sonic whipped around, kicking a leg out to sweep it off its feet. It toppled and exploded, just like that, taking one of its friends with it.

And then, it was quiet again.

"That was close," Sonic muttered, voice far too even for all of his acrobatics. Tails struggled in his arms, wriggling in a way that meant put me down and the hedgehog dropped him on his feet, watching as the tiny kit gazed about with wide eyes.

"I've never seen so many before..." he breathed, reaching out to touch a stray helmet. Sonic tutted and kicked it, sending it spinning into the water.

"Robotnik's getting desperate. It's about time we jumped ship and moved camp."

Tails, five-years-old and equipped with terribly manipulative eyes, looked up at him, astounded. "But you can't swim."

Sonic resisted a sigh and rubbed the kid's head, chuckling. "It's just an expression, kiddo. C'mon, let's go get you something to eat so you don't give us away again."

"M'sorry about that..." Tails looked properly abashed, as if he could control his stomach, and Sonic felt like a cad for even mentioning it.

"No, it's not your fault. It's mine for not getting food into you sooner. Won't happen again."

Tails didn't say anything to that, just turned to look at the robots again. Sonic could practically see the little wheels turning in that big brain of his. "Do you think... Could I— Y'know, look at one?"

"No." This came out hard, and the fox's ears fell, expression following. "Robotnik might have built some kind of anti-tampering device into them. If it blew up while you were inside, tinkering away, I don't know what I'd do."

"Probably punch Robotnik," Tails answered cheerily, as if the prospect of his own death didn't scare him one bit. "Then you'd be a hero and everyone would love you and you'd forget about me."

Sonic sighed and reached out for him, waited until a little hand wormed its way into his, and started back toward the city, towing Tails along. "I'd never be able to forget you, Tails," he answered as they walked, ignoring the bright eyes that peered at them from dark alleyways. "You're my only friend."

"Nah uh, what about that one kid—Cyrus! He's your friend!"

Sonic could feel a headache building just behind his eyes from the stress and Tails wasn't helping things. Of course he would choose today to be difficult. "I haven't seen Cyrus in a long time."

"Oh..." Tails trailed off, clearly unable to think of anything to say. His stomach rumbled again, saving them from the silence, and he grinned sheepishly at Sonic. "What're we eating?"

"I was thinking chili dogs—easy to grab and run."

"And you love them," Tails added at a mumble with something in his voice that Sonic couldn't pinpoint. Was is spite? Did Tails just scorn chili dogs?

"Whoa, whoa, bro, you wound me. We haven't had chili dogs in a few weeks!"

"Yeah, but we ate them nonstop for a month once and I can still taste them when I burp sometimes. Sonic, can I get something different? Please?"

Sonic could never say no to that face and Tails knew it, the conniving five-year-old. Really, it was a crime, someone that smart being that cute. "Fine, what do you want? Better pick fast—the shops are gonna close soon."

"Hmm..." Tails placed a hand to his chin, brow wrinkling in concentration. Sonic had to glance away or else be blinded by the sheer adorable. "Cake!"

Sonic made a loud err-err noise, the universal sound of wrong. "Cake's not food. Try again."

"Sure it is! You put it in your mouth and chew! It's got calories! Lots of them!"

"How are you five-years-old, know what calories are, and still insisting on eating cake? You're a study in contradiction."

"I'm just pointing out your logical fallacy. Cake is food, therefore I can eat it!"

"You're right," Sonic conceded, causing Tails to beam at him. "But, just because you can eat it doesn't mean I'm gonna get it for you. You better make a new choice, or else you've got a one-way ticket on the chili dog express."

"Chili dogs aren't food either then!" The fox cried petulantly, stubborn to the end. "They're not nutritional at all!"

"Ah, but they're not pure sugar either, my friend."

Tails's mouth snapped shut at that, stumped, and Sonic paused in their trek to let him think. Sometimes, the kid needed a chance to sort through all the information knocking shoulders in his brain, begging for attention. If Sonic's brain was a rolodex, thoughts flipping one after the other, then Tails was an abacus, thoughts sliding back and forth and crashing into each other; he needed more quiet time to think. "Fine," he sighed then, coming back online, "I'll just get a burger then."

"Glad we could come to an agreement! We better run though, or else we won't make it."

Tails sighed like an old man and offered his hand again. Sonic grabbed it and sped up to half speed, landscape blurring around them as he zipped down the familiar streets of the city. It was late enough that there weren't any people around, so he was pretty much unhindered all the way through. He even took some bots out on his way.

Sonic actually knew of a pretty decent hamburger joint. It was a bit of a dive and the chili dogs weren't all that good, but the owner was kickin' and the clientele unobtrusive and reserved; no one cared who you were or what you were up to, as long as you didn't cause any trouble in the diner. It would be perfect for a night like this, when Sonic was a bit high on adrenaline and Tails was feeling a bit antagonistic, both of them itching to bicker.

Sal's, as it was called, was off the beaten path, pressed between two larger buildings. There was no signage out front, just a few tables set up on a small wooden porch that were never occupied, and the windows were covered with flyers and posters, all shady and written in thief's code. Sonic pushed the door open, causing the bell to jangle, and poked his head inside to see three or four people, each nursing their own food, staring straight at their plates. This wasn't a place where you made eye contact.

The hedgehog felt Tails press close to his legs, fur a bit puffy, and placed a hand on his head to keep him calm. It was a bit of a struggle to jostle his way up to the counter with Tails clinging to his knees, but he managed it, and he hoisted the kit onto a barstool before jumping up into the adjacent one himself. There were a few menus on the counter, so he slid one toward Tails to keep him quiet and glanced toward the kitchen, ears perked for any signs of life.

It took a few minutes, but the owner eventually toddled out. The titular Sal, she defied expectation: a young, suspicious zebra, she stood tall and proud, clearly unintimidated by her dangerous customers, and they respected her for that. She slapped around thieves and gang bosses alike, and they paid her afterwards, thanking her for the privilege. Sonic liked her, even if he was a little terrified of her.

"Sonic!" she called once she spotted him, drawing Tails's wide eyes. "Haven't seen you in a while, kid! Where you been?"

Sonic waved a flippant hand. "Around. You know how it is."

"Still on Robotnik's hit list?" Her voice was loud, but no one reacted—refreshing.

No one except Tails, that was. The fox flinched, as if the reminder that they were at the top of countless kill lists wasn't constantly on his mind. Sonic knocked his foot into his friend's, jostling him a bit in his seat, and was rewarded with a bit of the tension seeping out of the kid's shoulders. "Yeah, well, until they find the royals, every hedgehog is priority one, y'know?"

"Don't help that you're also a Survivor."

There was something about her voice that added gravity to the word, made it capitalized, and Sonic shifted in his seat, trying to push back the heat that rose from his memories, flames licking, making his vision go a bit black around the edges. "Yeah," he muttered, mouth suddenly dry. "A survivor."

Survivor was the underground's name for those marked for death by Robotnik—people who escaped village slaughters and systematic execution but were still on the list, constantly hunted; they received a special sort of treatment in the underbelly, reverence almost. That fight for life was something to be respected, and no one bothered known survivors. Sonic, and Tails in conjunction, just so happened to be the most famous survivor, which was why he felt pretty safe waltzing into places like this. If worst came to worst, someone would help them get out, even with SWATbots breaking down the walls.

Sal had a good read on people so she let Sonic go for a second, turning to Tails. "What about you, cutie? You been okay out there?"

Tails blinked in surprise, clearly trying to place this woman's face with one in his memory. When he came up blank, he could only nod, dumbly. "Uh, yeah, I guess. Sonic's really good at keeping me safe."

She smiled, a soft thing that put Tails at ease, and Sonic nudged him again to get his attention. "You don't remember, but I brought you in here a few weeks ago. You were half asleep but I was too jazzed so Sal let you sleep upstairs while I went for a run."

Sonic expected astonishment, but Tails's expression opened into understanding. "I was wondering why this part of town was kinda familiar."

"I never got a story for you, kid," Sal cut in before Sonic could reply. "Where you from?"

Tails glanced at Sonic in a way that made the hedgehog uncomfortable, so he jumped in. "We're from the same village," he answered shortly.

Sal's expression closed off, hardening as the gravity of that hit her and she nodded, solemn. "I see. Then you're up the same creek without that paddle."

"And Sonic can't swim," Tails added, staring down at his menu. "And I'm not sure where the current's going."

They sat in silence for a few beats, Sal letting them fester in their own sad situation, before she sighed to get their attention.

"What can I get you? I need to get the cook off his ass and into gear."

"A chili dog with the works for me. Tails?"

"A burger," the fox answered, distracted, "and a shake?"

Their lives were so miserable at the moment and Tails's voice so hopeful that Sonic couldn't tell him no. He nodded at Sal, who grinned back at him, and received a brilliant beam from Tails. It was always the little things with him, the tinniest luxury that made his day. Sonic could get behind that kind of optimism.

Sal disappeared back into the kitchen and they heard her yell at the cook, then a male voice hollered back, followed by the banging of pots and the rattle of cutlery. The door jangled again as someone left, money laid bare on the table, and an unseen waitress appeared from the shadows to collect it and begin clearing the table. Tails pushed the menu back towards Sonic, who placed it on the stack and moved to straighten them to keep his hands busy, tapping them against the lacquered counter.

Sal returned soon enough, loaded with a chocolate shake and a glass of water, which she slid to them. Tails fell on his shake like a starved man, sucking on the candy cane straw with a look of concentration on his face. Sonic figured he was trying to protect himself from a brain freeze; with a hard drive that big, a freeze would be lethal. Sal, meanwhile, set Sonic with a look that made his skin itch. That was a look that got him into trouble, most of the time.

"I think you need to find your way to Sanctuary."

Tails choked on his ice cream and Sonic snorted, unsure if it was in reaction to his friend or the woman on the other side of the counter. "Don't you think I know that? I've been doing everything to get their attention—killing bots, infiltrating bases, wearing dresses on the street and rockin' it, but they're not pickin' up what I'm puttin' down. The resistance doesn't want us; we're too hot."

Sal shrugged, picking up Tails's glass and running a wet rag across the counter there to clean up his mess. "I've seen them grab kids with ten times the heat. You need to think bigger."

"You kidding? What's bigger than a pair of survivors from Cocoa, one a hedgehog and the other a mutant—sorry, Tails, but it's true," he broke off when Tails stiffened slightly in his seat, "—who target supplies and SWATbot plants for fun? The only way to push ourselves more into the red would be to break into Robotnik's main base and have dinner with him!" Sal's face turned contemplative at that, as if she were actually considering it. "No, Sal! We're not doing that!"

"I didn't know you were from Cocoa," she answered instead, avoiding Sonic's prickly anger. "That's worse than I thought."

"It was a slaughter," Sonic growled, Tails frozen into a rigid pole next to him. "And I won't make Tails go through that again. We were the only ones who got out."

She shook her head slowly, expression closing off. "I'm sorry. Really. You don't deserve what happened."

"No one does," Sonic shot back, crossing his arms, "which is why I'm working so hard to get Tails into Sanctuary. He deserves a peaceful life. He's only five."

"So do you!" Tails cried, finding his voice for the first time in a while. "I don't want to go to Sanctuary if you're not there too! You've gone through just as much as me!"

Sonic let out an agitated puff of air, leaning his elbows onto the counter so he could cradle his face in his hands. "Tails, we've talked about this. I can't—not until Robotnik pays for what he did—what he's doing. I need you to be safe and then I need to help stop him."

"I want to help too!"

"And you are!" Sonic pressed, looking up, voice no longer muffled by his gloves. "Without you, I wouldn't have been able to take out half of those bases by myself, but how many times have we nearly been caught because I wasn't fast enough? I already told you—I can't lose you!"

Tails's jaw clenched and Sonic was half afraid he was going to cry, but he only narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Why? Because I'm the only other survivor? I want revenge too, you know!"

"No! Not because you're the only other sur— Tails! Is that what you think? That I only hang out with you because you remind me of home?!"

"No! Well, yeah, but you also feel like you have to take care of me!"

Sonic groaned and thunked his head into the counter. "How can you be so smart but so dense?" Sonic grumbled to the floor, eyes shut against the world. "You're like a little brother to me Tails, and family—They keep each other safe!"

There was a ringing silence after that, and Sonic looked up, half afraid that he had said something wrong, but Tails was staring at him, mouth hanging in a small oh. There were tears beading in the corners of his eyes, and Sonic felt his stomach drop open. "What? Tails, I'm sorry. What?"

The fox lunged, nearly landing in Sonic's lap, pulling him into a hug as he shoved his face into Sonic's chest, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "You're like a brother to me too," he whispered, just loud enough for Sonic to hear. "You're all I have left and I don't want you to die!"

Sonic, dumbfounded, wrapped his arms around the kid, ignoring Sal as she turned to retreat into the kitchen to give them some space. "I know, I know. It's okay, Tails. I'm not going anywhere."

It was incredible, how earth changing something as simple as that little reveal could be for a child Tails's age. A brother was probably all he wanted out of life, especially now that his parents were dead, and to have Sonic say that... His brain couldn't take it. His IQ may have been huge, but he still only had the emotional capacity of a five-year-old. Sure, he could comprehend things far more complex than Sonic himself occasionally, but he couldn't rationalize them sometimes. For him, the world was very much black and white, with the good here and the bad there. It would be a while until he could understand what revenge entailed, and, until then, Sonic would have to guide him, especially now. If they ever got into the resistance, it was going to be a fight to keep Tails from following him. He was extremely good at it.

Sonic wasn't sure how long they sat like that, Tails half in Sonic's lap, Sonic rubbing soothing circles in his back, but Sal eventually backed out of the kitchen, two plates balanced in her arms. Sonic gently coaxed Tails back into his seat, wiping the tear tracks from his face in a moment of private condolence, and bopped the kid on the nose once to make him smile. Thusly rewarded, he turned to his food, taking a deep, exaggerated sniff.

"Oh Chaos, Sal," he practically moaned as he grabbed the chili dog, "this smells like heaven."

"I try," she replied, leaning on hip on the opposite side of the counter. "Extra cheese, just how you like it."

Sonic made another deep sound of appreciation and took a slow bite, just to enjoy it. It had been far too long since he had had one of these.

Tails meanwhile had devoured half his burger in two bites and was taking a break to toss back a few fries. Okay, maybe Sonic should feed him more often.

"Dang Sonic," Sal remarked as Tails returned to his sandwich and practically swallowed the rest of it in one bite, "do you ever feed this kid?"

Sonic actually put his chili dog down to answer her, that was how serious he was. "Hey! It's not like we've got time! Robotnik's practically stalking us!"

"Actually, and don't ask me how I know this—doctor-patient confidentiality and all—but—"

"You're not a doctor."

"Whatever. Word on the street is that Robotnik has an army of bounty hunters. Odds are, it's not him stalking you; it's some of his cronies."

Sonic sighed, a deep, dark sound that came from his tired soul. "I thought he didn't trust organics."

Sal shrugged and took the time to push Tails's milkshake towards him when he started to cough and choke on some fries before answering. "His robots aren't smart enough to track people yet. He has to rely on good ole mobian smarts for that. And, from what I've heard, you're particularly hard to follow. You're unpredictable."

"And fast," Tails put in as he took a break to breathe. "They probably can't find him on camera."

Sonic raised his glass to that before taking a sip. "Whoever it is, they're pretty good. They always manage to find us."

Sal's expression hardened a bit. "I think you've got it backwards, kid. You're the good ones. I haven't seen anyone slip and slide their way out of trouble like you. How long you been on the run?"

Sonic shifted uncomfortably and pointedly took a bite of his chili dog so he wouldn't have to answer right away.

"Little more than three months," Tails answered for him, done with his food.

Her eyes widened slightly. "Jeeze boys, that's incredible. The longest I'd heard of before now was a few weeks!"

"Yeah, well," Sonic groused, sound like an old man, "the bots are slow and clunky, and we ain't even seen any bounty hunters. It's not that hard to get away."

She shook her head. "Don't sell yourself short, Sonic. You're challenging Robotnik's rule just by surviving."

Sonic made an indescribable, exasperated sound at that. "Great, that means he'll just come after us more. Just what I need. How long do the bounty hunters have to track us before they get sacked anyway? You'd think we would'a gotten a new one by now."

She shrugged again, glancing past his shoulder and into the restaurant, probably making sure there weren't any unsavory ears. "I can't tell you. I assume Robotnik gives them a bit of a bubble to get to know their targets, but he's not the most patient man in the world. Odds are, you've gone through two or three already."

Sonic made another noise, this one a short of half groan, and shoved the rest of his chili dog into his mouth to keep from having to reply. The idea that there had been three different people hunting them should have bothered him, but he was more worried about what had happened to Bounty Hunters 1 and 2. Did they have a date with the roboticizer?

The fact that he was concerned about people who wanted him dead should have also bothered him, but he took it as a sign that he had managed to retain his morality. The lam hadn't taken that from him yet.

A somber air laid itself on them after that, heavy and suffocating. Sonic ate his chili dog as quickly as possible, shoving the last few bites into his mouth so roughly he barely tasted it, and threw back the rest of his water right after. One glance at Tails found that he had finished his shake and had pushed it toward Sal along with his plate.

"What do we owe you?" Sonic inquired as Sal moved to grab their dishes. The zebra paused, ears flicking ever so slightly as she thought.

"A good night's sleep," she answered eventually.

"I mean we don't have much money but— Wait, huh?"

She jerked her head toward the back of the restaurant, toward the door that led to her private living quarters. ('Don't make enough money for anything else,' she had explained to Sonic at their first meeting, months ago.) "Go get some sleep."

Sonic blinked, shared a look with Tails, blinked again. "Huh?" he repeated.

"You got somewhere else to go, kid? Maybe a five star hotel?"

Sonic threw his hands up defensively. "I don't have anything lined up, but it's nothing new—sleeping on the street."

"Haven't you been listening? You've got bounty hunters after you and you're at the top of the priority list, considering how long you've been on the run. You need to lay low for a while."

Sonic shifted in his seat, suddenly very aware of Tails's wide eyed gaze. "We can't put you in danger, Sal—"

She rolled her eyes and dropped the plates in the window to the kitchen. The cook's head appeared and he sent her the evil eye as he pulled the dishes through. "I can take care of myself, y'know. You think you're the first high risk kids I've taken in?"

Sonic crossed his arms and set her with a hard look. "I think we're the first to have such persistent trackers."

She waved a hand flippantly. "Please—and don't argue with me. You're like, what, eleven?"

"Twelve," Sonic gritted out.

"I'm five!" Tails added, just to get a word in. Sal chuckled.

"Okay, so twelve and five. I'm at least three times that. I'm pretty sure I know what I'm talking about. Now get up those stairs, or am I gonna have to carry you?"

"You'll have to catch me first," Sonic grumbled, but slid out of the seat regardless. They were better off not fighting her; Sal could be persistent, and Sonic didn't want to be on her list. The last thing he needed was the thieves coming after him too, especially only because he didn't take a bed when it was offered. "Where to, boss?"

"Up the stairs, take a right. Bed's second room down; shower's right after. And don't clog the drain with fox fur."

Sonic vaguely heard Tails make an affronted sound, but he was too busy fantasizing about a hot shower—damn, how long that it been? A month? Two? Sure, they managed to sneak into the aristocrats' bathhouses every now and then, but it was always after hours so the fires were stamped and the water cold. He shivered—just thinking about Tails's whining and the freezing, slimy water was enough to give him the chills. "C'mon, fur ball," he commanded as he held his arms up to his friend to help him off the stool. "Let's get you cleaned up. Time to evict the fleas."

Sal sent him a sharp glare while Tails moaned. "I don't have fleas, Sonic! Stop telling people that!"

Sonic only grinned in response and rubbed the kid's head, mussing his fur. "I only speak the truth. I cannot tell a lie."

"That was a lie!"

The hedgehog chuckled and ushered him in the proper direction, shooting Sal a small smile. "Thanks, by the way."

She waved a hand, glancing towards the cash register as if it had just occurred to her that it still existed. "No worries. Get a move on. I want some peace when I get up there."

...

It was surprisingly easy to get Tails to take a shower, which meant that it had been far too long since their last dip. Usually, the kid was against any sort of bath like he had a grudge, but this time he hopped right into the tub. In fact, he used up all the hot water, something Sonic griped about for the thirty minutes it took for the heater to fill back up, which only made Tails grin in a way that made Sonic realize it had been intentional.

"You better be asleep when I get back," he ordered ominously as he paused in the doorway. "I mean actual sleep, not that half-sleep you seem so good at."

Tails's only response was a half-assed salute and an "aye aye sir" before he tumbled onto the bed and burrowed into the blankets, pulling them up to his chin. Sonic was pretty sure the fox was out before he even made it to the bathroom.

The shower wasn't anything special, but it had options for hot, cold, and everything in between, so it was practically a luxury. Sonic stepped into the scalding spray and felt the muscles in his back release all at once. He hissed and ducked his head into the water, allowing it to run between the fur on the back of his head, sliding between quills and along his skin, like small, hot fingers. It reminded him of his mother, back when she would bathe him by hand in their small metal tub, all affectionate and muttering under her breath, things like "how'd you get so dirty, son? Did you take it upon yourself to singlehandedly collect every single speck of dirt and dust on the island? Your father was like that... Rolling around with the other boys, digging holes to nowhere..."

He hissed again, this time in pain, and forced his mind to go blank. He focused on the water, the feel of the tile under his bare feet, studied the pale lines on his hands. The pads of his fingers were red from the heat, fingerprints colored like blood. He pressed them to the wall, felt the warm ceramic, and blinked away water, trying to keep it together.

He hadn't thought of home since the attack. His last glance of it had been a peek over the side of a supply ship, Tails a mewling ball of trauma next to him. It had still been on fire, Kukus patrolling, looking for life and shooting anything that moved. That had been the last ship, stolen back to the mainland by robots because the supplies were too valuable. When they snuck off in Robotropolis harbor, they were orphans and lost, newly minted Survivors. He hadn't had time to think about home.

Tails had nightmares; Sonic had nightmares. They pretended they didn't come morning. It was the order of things now. He didn't need to waste time thinking now, especially with bounty hunters on their backs. He had to keep Tails safe, get into the resistance, and help end this. One way or another, he would see the downfall of Robotnik—for his home, for the people, for the world, for everyone. He wouldn't think until it was over.

He went through the motions of showering robotically. Soap swirled down the drain, water thundered on his back, and he stared at the wall, counting tiles to keep himself occupied. His fingers were wrinkled by the time he got out, and he took one look at his gloves after he had toweled off and scowled. They were disgusting with dirt, oil, food stains, blood, and who knew what else, but he didn't have time to give them a proper cleaning. New ones were out of the question, especially since he had to save up to get Tails a new pair soon enough—the kid was growing quickly and he would be too big for his eventually.

With a sigh, he turned the water in the sink to the hottest setting and plugged the drain. The bowl was small so it filled quickly and he tossed them in, glanced down at his shoes, and decided to add his socks as well. Hell, he might as well grab Tails's while he was at it.

He darted into the bedroom and found the fox's sole clothing piled on the nightstand, shoes lined up along the wall. He grabbed and darted, not wanting to wake his friend, and didn't think twice before shoving his hands into the sink.

The heat nearly burned the feeling from his hands, and he swallowed a yell. This was the closest he would get to a deep cleaning—the heat would hopefully kill any germs or other icky stuff—and it was all he had time for. There was a bar of soap sitting on the basin, so he grabbed that and scrubbed at each glove and sock, allowing the heat to distract his thoughts.

With that done, he laid each item of clothing out to dry and turned to leave, suddenly exhausted. It was a long trek back to the bedroom now, and the floors creaked under his feet, bringing forth memories of the old schoolhouse that he never attended but snuck into on multiple occasions. School was reserved for only the richest of mobians under Robotnik and everyone on Cocoa was banned. SWATbots were posted at all the doors, but they couldn't stop a curious and trouble-prone Sonic. He slipped into windows and even crawled up under the foundation once, knocking a hole through the old floor. What he found within was disappointing, but the school became a haven of sorts. It was a safe place to practice his letters, away from his mother's judgmental eye—she was a good teacher, but he never could get his lines straight when she watched; he did better practicing on his own—to dig out books and sound words into the silence, filling the space with language and learning one last time.

Sonic shook his head and sped up. The hallway was too dark for his tastes, and the door seemed to be getting further away, but he never let distance stop him. He forced his feet to move, pounding so hard that the world sped up, and crashed through the door, heaving for air when it was usually even and paced.

The room was as he had left it, and Tails was nothing more than a lump under the blankets. Blowing out a breath, Sonic shoved the door closed, locking the memories outside, and practically fell onto the bed, pushing Tails over toward the wall. He struggled to climb under the blankets, and immediately had a fuzzy body pressed into his own, Tails curling into the curve of Sonic's stomach. This was one of the only small comforts Sonic allowed himself, so he wrapped his arms around the smaller child and felt Tails relax, secure in the knowledge that Sonic was there to protect him. That made one of them, at least.

All things considered, sleep should have been just out of reach, but Sonic was good at pushing things away, keeping thoughts locked up, so he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep almost immediately. He didn't even have time to count to four.

...

"Sonic! Get up!"

The hedgehog jolted awake, jumping off the bed as his eyes opened, and nearly lashed out at the hand that had been on his shoulder. Luckily, his brain caught up and he took in Sal, crouched in front of the bed, still dressed from her day in the diner, lit by a flashlight clutched in her hand.

Her mouth was moving, and Sonic felt Tails shift behind him, rising from his sleep to trundle and struggle his way across the mattress, unable to really make the words out, considering the crashing noises in his skull.

Sal let out what looked like a groan and dragged Sonic close so she could press her lips to his ear, yelling straight into the tent of his earlobe. "They're here! SWATbots and fliers and who knows what else! We have to get out!"

Sonic's brain took a few seconds to consider that, thought huh, guess the crashing isn't in my head after all, and then cursed, loud and concussive. Tails made an oooh sound behind him, a child reacting to terrible language, and Sonic twisted around to jerk him off the bed.

"Take Tails!" he commanded, whirling the kit toward Sal. "Out the window! I have some stuff to grab!" So saying, he stooped down and snagged the fox's shoes, shoving them into his friend's chest. "Go with Sal, you hear me?" He stared Tails straight in the face, waiting until he nodded. "I'll catch up."

Tails looked like he wanted to argue, but Sal towed him off, sending Sonic a look that said, I hope this is worth it. She hauled the window open and didn't even look down as she climbed onto the sill and jumped out. Tails followed with one last look, and then trailed after her.

Sonic was alone.

Haha cliffhanger. I said I was feeling indulgent, not benevolent.

I'm going to be frank here: 90s American Sonic reminds me of a shark. Not only does he have a dorsal fin, but he's mean, grouchy, will bite your head off, and has to keep moving or he'll die. (Come to think of it, Boom!Sonic is the same way. What is it with western interpretation of "attitude" and "cool" meaning "rude" and "salty"?) My Sonic has and always will be a quick witted and a bit sassy, but he inherently cares about people. This devil-may-care haha you almost died but I made it here barely in time Sonic is only in the cartoons (and anime, if we're counting Sonic X), and I don't like it. Sonic is almost always ahead of everything in the games (Colors: he got a jump on Eggman well before he had his mind control ray truly perfected; Adventure: he didn't goof off until Chaos became a problem—he went after him from the get-go; hell, he even heard about Little Planet and sped his little butt over there only to find Eggers knocking all the plates off the shelf and was like STOP THAT'S THE GOOD CHINA (terrible analogy—got it).) Point is, I don't write Underground Sonic. I don't write 90s Sonic period. Manic is like the best character in Underground because he's free to be sassy and let the writers flex their quip muscles, while Sonic is dogged down with catchphrases and lingo in a corn field somewhere eating cheese (nope, this was the terrible analogy), so I just don't mess with it. You're getting bona fide SegaSonic here folks. Hopefully, I put enough, y'know, plot reasons in there to explain this away, but there's my dissertation.

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