Falling to Pieces

A strange machine threatens the land. Not even Sonic can defeat it! Because of extensive injuries, Sonic is forced to take temporary leave from the Freedom Fighters, much to his chagrin. No one seems to see the injuries beyond the physical—can Cream heal Sonic…before it's too late?

The blood was warm against his sides and at his chest. Warm and free and red, even in the dim light. It spilled and dripped and flowed down his fur with the rain, plopping onto the grass as he walked, barely even able to anymore, to a place where he could rest and give his body precious time to heal. Even injured, he had a sense of where he was going.

"Finally," he rasped, as he looked upon the place that would save him. Soaked in blood and rainwater, he stumbled up to where he could be sheltered by the eaves of the house, and placed one bloody hand on the wall to steady himself before he dragged his heavy body up the steps. One of his gloves was torn off, and this was the bloody hand. The other was cut, so that his middle finger was the only one of these covered by glove. The torn fragments hung off the palm of the glove like willow branches. He rang the doorbell with his middle finger, and fell upon his knees on the stone stoop. "Ow." The wind howled, and he lifted his hand to ring the doorbell again. But, there was no need.

An older rabbit, not more than twenty five or thirty, had opened the door from within. Dressed in an elegant red dressing gown and pink bathrobe flung around her shoulders, she looked the tattered form over. To her surprise—and to his—she recognized the kind eyes beneath the wild, bloody fur. "Sonic?!" Her horror betrayed her—she was upset this had happened.

Sonic the Hedgehog lifted himself upon one elbow. The other was occupied holding his side. "Vanilla…" he closed one eye, creeping forward like a snake upon the stair. "Puh-puhpuhleeze…please help, please help me." He coughed, looking away. One ear was flattened against the side of his head and the other was wilting slowly like a starving flower. His one visible eye held much pain and suffering, and the other looked bruised or hurt in some other manner.

"O-of course, Sonic. I wouldn't just leave you!" Vanilla bent to grab hold of his arm and walk him against her into the house. Blood from his fur leaked and was absorbed into her robe and fur. She swung her free hand at the light switch at the entrance to the kitchen, flooding the cozy area with warm, yellow light.

Vanilla pulled out a chair skillfully with her foot and sat Sonic in it while she herself began to inspect him for damage. She didn't try to remove the arm that seemed plastered against his side. She could see it revealed a pulsating wound that was still bleeding well enough. The tan fur on that arm was nearly crimson, and Sonic was panting and couldn't quite keep his head upright. Vanilla reached beneath the sink and grabbed a rag. "Here, use this to stanch the blood flow." She directed as she threw it at him. Sonic nodded, and removed his arm. The wound was indeed deep and pulsing like a heart, but Vanilla didn't get a very good look at it, for Sonic knew what to do. "I want you to get your bearings, stop that blood. Then, I want you to tell me what happened to you."

Sonic coughed, and looked at her with pleading in his eyes. Every twenty to thirty seconds, he shivered with cold. Vanilla brought him several warm towels and placed them about his shoulders, but this didn't stop his shivering. Vanilla was about to go get blankets, but Sonic choked out: "You can't do anything about it. I'm soaked all the way to the bone. Even my innards are dripping wet."

"Well, that's good to know. Sonic, what happened to you?" Vanilla was being almost sassy in her worry—it didn't sound quite like the usually soft-spoken mother rabbit.

By now, Cream in her room down the hall, was wide-awake. She'd been drifting in and out of half-consciousness since sharp cracks of lightning had startled her from sleep, but hearing the commotion and seeing the light under the door made her curious. She got out of bed and slipped her feet into her slippers, walking towards her door to listen in.

In the kitchen, Sonic raised his head, chin coming up off his chest for the first time since he'd been here. His wilting ear pricked, the other one almost broken, lifeless. Vanilla picked up his sudden alertness, the curiosity and knowing in his single open green eye. The other one had a deep-set scar across it, and Sonic couldn't keep it open for long. He was one-eyed for now.

"What is it?" Vanilla asked softly, but Sonic only coughed in response.

His voice had been stolen from him, taken by his humiliating defeat at the hands of the massive robot he'd been fighting. He felt a deep hatred for his physical body, for his mind had the might to defeat it, but as he had gotten physically wounded and worn down, his body had become slower and weaker. He couldn't keep up with his forever speedy mind, and for this he was bitterly ashamed. He would not speak, for what could he say? I lost. I'm a failure to you all. I lost. I lost a battle. I let you all down. I lost.

Cream had strayed into the hallway, and Sonic leaned his head sideways against the back of the chair, resting on his arm. He closed his eyes, feeling the blood and rain soak into his fur and the tire that came with them seeping into his muscles. The backs of his legs, his thighs, his feet, were all hurting as if a thousand needles were stuck there, and embedded deep. He especially felt his in his feet, because it hurt to walk. His feet were cold from the damp, and he sneezed once, his spit bloody. Vanilla gave him a tissue, but she knew she was powerless to heal him.

Sonic was strong. He was physically able to heal on his own. Indeed, small cuts were already beginning to sew themselves up, and his pulsating wound had stopped bleeding.

"Sonic?"

His name prompted the blue hedgehog to obligatorily lift his head to look upon her. His eyes were bright, but very, very tired. His open eye was struggling to stay open, his eyelid heavy.

"Would you like a hot bath? Maybe it would help warm you up?" Vanilla smiled, to assure the invitation.

Sonic met her gaze with both eyes, forcing his other eye open. Wearily, he nodded his head.

Vanilla went down the hall to get the bath ready. She was so distracted that she nearly bumped headlong into her daughter, Cream, peeping in the hallway. Sonic, though his eyes were closed from tire, was wide-awake listening, so happy he had forced his body to come here.

"What are you doing up?" Vanilla hissed in some alarm but no anger. "Why are you peeping?"

Cream rubbed her eyes. "I heard voices, momma."

"Yes. Sonic's here."

"Is he? Can I see him?" Cream's whispers became more and more high-pitched as her excitement heightened. Sonic in the kitchen, still as a stone statue, gave a muted chuckle, a smile cracking his frowning lips and brightening the dark events of the afternoon into evening.

"No." Vanilla answered. Cream whimpered, and Sonic had to clamp his hand over his mouth to mute his laughter, which shook his aching body and made pinpricks of pain shoot blood out of cuts and scrapes and made the thick bruises on his back, sides, and belly tender.

"Awww, why?"

"Sonic is…very hurt." Vanilla picked her words carefully as she went into the bathroom. "You can help me fix a bath, but I don't want you bothering him. He seems very exhausted."

"Exhausted, momma? Sonic?"

"Yes. He's barely moved a muscle since I brought him in."

Sonic stopped laughing, and tears came to his eyes. It stabbed his ego to know that his body ached every time he moved. Vanilla restating it didn't help at all. In fact, it made matters much worse.

The bath water was running now. Vanilla had her fingers under it, bent over the tub, testing for heat. Cream stood beside her mother, selecting soaps and thinking about Sonic. She was also thinking about her secret plan to see Sonic, despite his condition.

The time goes on and on…

Vanilla came into the kitchen. Sonic raised his head. He could smell that Cream was still in the hallways. He heard Vanilla whisper to her to go to bed when she thought Sonic wasn't paying attention. But, Sonic knew. He knew that Cream planned to see him, no matter what her mother said. And that made him happy. It was one of the reasons he chose to come here, rather than go to another location for aid.

"Your bath's ready, Sonic." Vanilla told him soothingly, her voice almost pitying though she tried hard to hide it as she lifted him carefully up and steadied him. Sonic gave a yelp when she touched a tender bruise, but otherwise made no noise. Vanilla apologized profusely, but Sonic wearily brushed it off without using words.

He heard the patter of faint footsteps in retreat as they neared the bathroom and he knew them to be Cream's. Sonic smiled as Vanilla removed his shoes, socks, and what was left of his gloves (the right glove was nothing more than the cuff, the left a rag) and helped him into the tub. Usually an alarm to him, the hot water soothed the tense feeling in his bones, and the soap (though it stung a bit at first) disinfected his numerous injuries. He reclined in the bath, all his weight being supported by the water. He had no sense of time, but he knew when Vanilla left and when he was alone.

And, what must've been hours later, close to dawn, when he was in company once again.

The door opened. The water was beginning to get cold around Sonic, and he was awake now. The water around him was a faint pinkish color and, had it been shark-infested, he would've been dinner long ago. He was almost alarmed at the door, both ears pricking up as he lifted his body up out of the coolness of the wet water.

Cream slipped in through a small crack in the door. She took a washcloth from the closet and lathered it up with soap and warm water. Taking a pot from nearby, she poured more boiling water into the preexisting water, draining some of the old water first to make way for the new water.

"Hi, Sonic," Cream whispered, her long nightgown making her look very grown-up though she still held the magic of childhood in her yet. Sonic smiled at her presence and relaxed in the warm bath. "Can't you talk?" Cream stood on a low stool and climbed over the side of the tub. Her white nightgown flowed out around her like a flower. Sonic, somewhat alarmed, backed up, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. But Cream's eyes were calm, if not a bit worried herself.

"It's okay," she said to him, showing him the washcloth. "Momma didn't say, but I guessed about your biggest wound. Let me see."

Sonic moved awkwardly in the water to expose his stomach to her. Cream gently began to wash it down, her childish hands making Sonic melt as she touched him. He was not in love with her. He had none of those feelings towards her. But her touch was indeed magic, like the love of a small child often is.

Cream loved Sonic dearly, but like a brother or father. Whatever this love was, it was enough to drive her to do this great service for him.

As she washed him down, Sonic became more relaxed. They met gazes once, Cream very close to his face. She smiled and kissed his cheek. Sonic kissed the tip of her nose in return. They smiled at each other, and then Cream went back to work.

When she was done, the young girl climbed back out of the tub. "Your skin is pruney." She told Sonic. "Momma long went to sleep. Are you going to come out?"

Sonic nodded and wordlessly stood, closing his eyes against the strain. Dripping wet, she stepped out of the tub, all wounds bloodless now. Cream handed him a towel to dry himself with and then drained the tub. "Are you coming to my room?" Cream asked. Sonic, somewhat reenergized from his bath, nodded slowly, his yes very sincere though tired. Cream giggled excitedly and took his hand. Together, they walked towards her room.

Such a long, long, long time has passed. The me that I care about has turned to ash…

Sonic felt so exposed. He didn't even have his socks. He felt so naked and wrong. He looked away as Cream changed, out towards the fading rain clinging to her windowpane and the sweet full moon that serenaded him tonight.

The numerous heads of the machine glinted gray in the blue light of the full moon, bright as day. The rain made them slippery to land on. He was tired and, no matter how many heads he cut away, there would always be more to take its place. Even if he'd had the strength to cut them all off at once…all he could think about was the haunting laughter of his evil nemesis…

And the horrid name of the beast: HYDRA.

"You haven't lost your voice forever, right, Sonic?"

Sonic jumped to find Cream sitting up in bed, surrounded by pillows and her blankets. Sonic nodded, one bare foot up upon the window seat.

"You can sleep there, if you like. If you can." Cream corrected herself. Sonic shook his head.

"I'm not sleeping." The first words he had spoken to her, the first words in what seemed like ages this evening. His voice sounded so broken and injured to him. But no hot bath could cure the internal pains wracking his body.

Cream was not surprised at his voice, though Vanilla would've been shocked he'd talked after so long. "Why not?"

"It's…" Sonic swallowed, feeling the lump travel downward into his gullet. "It's hard to explain, Cream." He admitted. "I guess part of it…are these injuries." He sighed. "I've…I've never been this bad, Cream."

"I know, Sonic." Cream's chocolate eyes perused his outline against the pale white light of the moon. Sonic knew this, even though he wasn't facing her. He stared out into the rain.

"Get some rest."

"Will…You will stay, won't you?" Cream's voice held a certain urgency, as if she feared this was all a dream and that he would disappear before her eyes.

Sonic closed his eyes, bowed his head, and chuckled dryly in his throat. "No, no. I won't move a step."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Sonic's voice was warm like a security blanket. The level of warmth should've been physical. One would've expected Sonic's breath to materialize on the window.

Cream smiled warmly and dove under the covers, giggling in the darkness. The room grew quiet as her breathing slowed. Sonic turned his green eyes to peruse her form asleep, and then he turned and pressed his forehead against the window. It was cold against his head. Sonic closed his eyes, sobs consuming him.

And there, in the child's warm comforting room, Sonic broke down and cried.

HYDRA.