"Holy crap, this isn't rain, it's a flood!"

"Sonic. Sonic?! Listen to me; you're going to be fine!"

"No, man, no, I swear, I'm gonna drown!"

"Sssh! You'll be fine, just keep moving!"

"Yeah, easy for you to say! You're not the one about to die!"

Sonic awoke crying tears of panic, but he had no idea why. He extracted himself from the tangled covers, stretched, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He looked over to the other side of the room, noting Manic, Antoine, and Rotor all safe (and completely zonked out). Well, I'll let them be. Meanwhile, I've got a job to do.

Sonic rubbed his eyes to dry them, and threw on some clothes, not really caring much. Moving into the only other room in the apartment, he took the apartment key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to go out.

It was October 14th, so it was a fairly chilly morning. Sonic shivered and rubbed his arms, but it really didn't do much. Locking the door firmly behind him, he smiled, having forgotten the effects last night's dream already—though the events of it were still fresh in his mind. He unchained his bike from the house and began to cycle over to the paper vendor's office.

Sonic's job was a newspaper boy, although his main concern was taking care of his 'family'—his brother Manic, and his two friends, Rotor and Antoine. Rotor and Antoine had been kicked out of their parents' respective homes, and as a friend, Sonic gladly took them in.

Rotor had been born to a very strict religious family, and his friendship with Sonic had left a sour taste in his mouth. To be honest, the things he risked just going to school being a lower-class teenager almost forced him into the position he was in. His grades had dropped because of a constant fear of being jumped, and to make a long story short, he'd ended up at the local YMCA, struggling to find a job with almost nothing but the clothes on his back.

As for Antoine, his parents—or rather, one dad—was a serious alcoholic, and frankly didn't care where Antoine himself was as long as there was beer around. Thankfully, this hadn't rubbed off on Antoine.

It was nice to have more people in the family, since Sonic's parents had died in a plane crash many years ago. Nice, yes, but also dangerous. Sonic and his friends weren't exactly well off, and each of them had to work very hard to keep their house, and keep from staying hungry. Aside from that, there were the higher-class kids who really seemed to enjoy jumping them whenever they felt like it, without warning.

But right now, Sonic felt the wind in his quills, and more importantly, felt free. He didn't have anything to worry about. It'd be a round of newspapers, hopefully a tip or three, and later on a date with Amy, his girlfriend.

Sonic arrived home after his date to find a significant lack of Antoine. "Hey, is Antoine on groceries today?" he asked Rotor, the only other one home. (Manic was just coming home from school—Sonic had dropped out to fully support the 'family,' but had insisted that one of them have a complete education.)

Rotor looked up from his own newspaper. He was easily the biggest of the group, but also had one of the biggest hearts. "Yeah, but now that you mention it, he has taken his sweet time getting home. Think we should see what's taking him?"

"I dunno. Let's wait, and see what happens," Sonic said.

What ended up happening was an empty bottle hitting the doorknob. Loudly.

Sonic rushed to the door, while Rotor looked ready to bean someone with…his newspaper. In the doorway stood Manic, looking harried and breathing hard.

Manic was definitely the youngest, but only by a year. Also the loudest in the group, he was quick-witted, but often had his head in the clouds.

"Cripes, man, do you think you could knock?" Sonic asked. Then, seeing Manic in the state he was in, he said: "What's the deal?"

"It's Antoine. He's busy being…pant…jumped."

"Well, geez, what did you come all the way here for?"

"There were a lot of 'em, and we're close. Come on, just hurry up!" Manic shouted, running back the way he'd come. Sonic looked at Rotor, then ran out the door.

Once there, they found Antoine at the end of an alleyway, surrounded by at least four other kids with not-so-nice looks on their faces.

"Come on, dudes. Have some class," Sonic complained, punching one of the more surprised-looking ones in the face. Jumping right into the fight was Manic, Rotor beside him. This comforted Sonic, who showed his gratitude by kicking his charge in the knees.

"Filthy greaser!" the kid fighting Manic said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sonic heard Rotor say as he downed his respective punk. "You and your limited vocabulary can go stuff it!"

Sonic moved to fight the one who still had Antoine cornered, but Antoine warned: "Non, non, this one has a blade!" Antoine, though not always the bravest, still had his head on straight in this fight, trying to wrestle the blade out of the hands of his opponent.

"Pssh. I don't care," Sonic muttered, kicking Antoine's guy in the side. In retribution, a guy behind him punched him in the back of the head, but he didn't suffer any more damage. Sonic turned, saw Antoine with the blade, and smiled smugly at the retreating socialites. They'd grabbed their buddy, the one Rotor knocked flat, and were already running for their car.

Rotor was already straightening Antoine's shirt, or the tatters he'd been lucky to get away with. "Dude, try to be a little faster about groceries next time," Sonic quipped. "And buy yourself some napkins or something, you've got produce juice all over ya."

In the commotion, it was lucky Sonic didn't forget his psychiatrist appointment. After having one too many weird dreams the past few weeks, Manic had convinced him to head on over there, and finding him interesting, the local psych had persuaded him to keep coming.

Although frankly I think he's just glad to get a customer, Sonic thought. The psychiatrist, a Miles Prower, M.D., was in competition with another, more well-established psych in the next town over, but Miles' rates were cheaper. Miles—or Tails, as he preferred to be called—was still young, and Sonic suspected he just needed the money. Meanwhile, his friends were comforted by the fact that Sonic was getting checkups.

"Give it to me straight, doc," Sonic smirked as he walked into the office. "Am I gonna die?"

Tails looked up confusedly. "What do you mean? You're not going to—"

"It was a joke, doc. A joke."

"Right. Of course." Tails cleared his throat. "Let's get down to it. Have you had any dreams lately?"

"Nightly. Last night's was the weirdest by far." Sonic ran a hand through his quills.

"Alright, let's start with that one. What happened? Just close your eyes and try to concentrate."

Sonic tried to remember as best he could. "Let's see…"

There was a strange-looking forest. Maybe a rainforest? The rain pouring down made the idea seem very reasonable.

Also, there was something chasing him. He knew that for sure.

Then he felt the water around his ankles, like some sick, strange, unholy mouth. "Holy crap," he remembered saying to someone, but didn't know who. "This isn't rain, it's a flood!" He was scared out of his mind. The water kept getting higher.

"Sonic. Sonic?!" he remembered someone replying. "Listen to me; you're going to be fine!"

"No, man, no, I swear, I'm gonna drown!" That was when he'd started crying.

Hours later, after Sonic had gone, Miles Prower, M.D., swiveled his chair over to his filing cabinet. "This Amy Rose and Sonic are together, huh? I wonder if she has any light to shed on these dreams of his," he murmured to himself.

Little did he know, even she couldn't piece the puzzle completely together.