Disclaimer : Sonic the Hedgehog is owned by Sega Corporation. I do not claim ownership of Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic Adventure, or any characters, locations, or concepts contained therein. I do assert ownership of any characters, locations, or concepts originating within this work.
I would like to thank my Beta-readers, The Great Gonzales and Bruce Pendragon. Never could have done this without you.
Chapter 3: Empty Words
"The rest is silence."
Hamlet
Sonic the Hedgehog, undisputedly the fastest living thing on the planet, savior of the Earth several times over, and general all around hero, braced himself as he allowed his words to sink in. The listener, who had been busily disassembling what Sonic guessed was a car engine, suddenly froze, the pieces he'd been handling dropping from nerveless hands. The twin tails for which he was named abruptly stopped the rhythmic twitching they normally assumed and lay limply on the ground as if transfixed. Then abruptly the listener turned to face him, and the fact he was only six years old made the look of utter horror on his face even more pronounced.
"You're leaving?!"
Sonic winced as the panicked shout pierced through the ambient noise of the Workshop to batter at his ears. "Just for a few days, Tails," He said quickly. "A week at most. I have to clear up something with the bank."
Tails stared at him as if he'd been struck between the eyes with a hammer, and Sonic fought the urge to laugh at his friend's expression, knowing it would only make things worse. His mouth worked soundlessly for several more seconds, then closed slowly, and Sonic could visibly see the shock wearing off, changing to worry. "Why?" Tails asked anxiously. "Did I do something wrong?"
Sonic sighed at Tails' knee-jerk response. Over the last two years since they'd met, he'd heard more of that than he cared to. He could only guess as to where the fox had picked up the habit, but it had probably developed during the time he'd lived on the streets. "No Tails, you haven't done anything wrong. I just wanted to get out for a bit and do a few things, that's all. I'm sure you'll-"
"Can't I come?"
"I'm gonna be pretty busy out there, buddy," Sonic replied smoothly. "It'd get really boring for you if you came."
"But I want to go!" Tails objected with a trace of desperation. "Can't I go with you?"
"I kinda wish ya could Tails," answered Sonic sincerely, "but I have to be in Central City by tomorrow, and-"
"-and I'll only slow you down." Tails eyes flashed with annoyance and not a little bitterness as he finished the sentence Sonic had started.
Sonic bit his lip in the process of apologizing to his friend. Instead he kneeled down and put a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Listen," he said softly, "I know you're upset. I would be too. But this is something I've got to do myself. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Besides, I'll only be a phone call away!"
Tails nodded glumly. There was a hurt look in his eyes as he turned away, his shoulders limp with disappointment, and for the hundredth time, Sonic reminded himself it was for the boy's own good. With that firmly in mind, he squeezed Tails' shoulder once more before getting to his feet. He walked over to the door, stopping along the way to grab his travel pack, which he'd carefully filled the previous day. When he reached the door, he turned once and looked back at the fox, who poked with seeming indifference at the parts around him, before opening the door, stepping through, and closing it firmly behind him.
As soon as the door latched, Sonic sighed and leaned against the wood wearily, letting the afternoon sunlight soak into him where he stood. It had been as easy as he'd expected to allay the kid's suspicions, but considerably more difficult than he'd expected to actually say the words. He hoped Tails would calm down by the time he got back, and Sonic almost smiled as he imagined the scene playing out in his head. Tails would come to the door when I knock, probably disgruntled and upset at being left behind. Then his eyes will widen when he sees what I brought back.
Fumbling his pack open, Sonic reached in and extricated a small magazine advertisement, carefully cut from its parent binding to accompany him. On it, a shining monster of a computer could be seen, emblazoned with the letters X16-7 on its side, accompanied by a long list of performance numbers that made no sense to him, as well as one very large number with a dollar sign in front of it.
Tails had practically drooled over the advertisement when he saw it in a magazine Sonic had ordered for him. And while he was still naïve in many things, he knew that things cost money, and that the computer was too expensive for Sonic to buy. So, even though the kid in him had probably wanted to ask for it, he never did. However, he didn't know about the small fortune in precious stones Sonic had been gifted with by the Flickies the previous year. He'd already put the majority of it in trust for the young fox, and a fair amount had gone towards building their new home/workshop, but what was left could still pay for the computer as if it were a drop in the bucket.
After, Sonic reminded himself, I've gotten to the city, made the withdrawal from the bank, headed on over to West City to pick it up, and brought it back. He could have made all those stops in a day unhindered, but it would take him the better part of the afternoon to get to the city, where he'd wait until morning for the bank to open. Then he'd take the money to the only store within two thousand miles that would stock it before taking the long, three-day ride back, through the irritatingly round-about route to Central City, and from there back home.
As he envisioned the horrifyingly slow journey back, he took solace in the look on his friend's face when he returned. Chuckling softly to himself, he took off, rustling the trees around him as his legs accelerated him to three hundred miles per hour in four seconds flat. Then his form blurred as he ran even faster, leaving a trail of dust behind him as he did.
Tails sat numbly on the floor of his workshop, absently piecing the engine he'd been disassembling back together. His hands moved automatically, placing the piece instinctively in its correct place, one after the other, like some vast metal jigsaw, but he wasn't paying attention. Just a few days, right? He thought reassuringly. I mean it's not like he's never coming back. Just a few days………
Abruptly he exploded to his feet, scattering pieces of metal around to bounce off half a dozen unfinished projects: an excavator he'd built from scratch to help build the workshop, now an empty shell, long since scavenged for parts; a plane engine he'd gotten for Christmas but had never touched; another engine he'd salvaged from a junkyard. All sitting silently on the floor of the hangar to frame the faithful, thrice repaired Tornado biplane Tails had always wanted to tinker with it, but had never been confident enough, seeing as it belonged to Sonic.
Tearing his eyes away from these things, Tails began to pace anxiously, an action that would have seemed comical for one so young had it not been for the intense expression on his face. Left behind. There it was, laid out clearly before him. He was being left behind, like usual. After all the times it had happened, he thought he should have gotten used to it, but it never got any easier to admit. Always it was said differently, but the message was always the same.
"-I really have to hurry-"
"-be there tonight-"
"-too young to come-"
"-slow me down-"
"-bring you back something cool-"
"-slow me down-"
His expression tightened as the memories of those times filled him, and he felt the same resentment, the same shame he'd always felt. That he was slowing Sonic down, holding him back.
Just a bother. A nuisance.
Deep down, he knew that wasn't fair. But for all his above-average intellect, he was only six, and like most children, could not bring himself to admit it. Even more than shame, however, there was fear. The fear that, despite all his promises, the time they'd spent together, all the things he'd done, Sonic wouldn't come back. It was an omnipresent sensation, gnawing away at his trust every time Sonic left and evaporating the moment he returned. But he wasn't just going out for a drink, or to go shopping this time; He was leaving for as long as a full week. A week when he'd be out of reach, out of sight. Suddenly the crowded workshop seemed far from crowded, as if the Hedgehog's absence skewed the fabric of reality, making the room appear larger and more spacious. More empty.
He remembered another place, another room, darkened and empty of life, and shied away from the pain of that day. Even now, it was not something he wanted to remember.
"There's got to be something I can do!" he blurted out abruptly. The sound echoed dimly off the walls, battering his ears much as they had Sonic's minutes before. For a moment he simply stood, listening as his own words rang through him. After what seemed an eternity, but could only have been a few seconds, he shook himself and sat down again, staring at the scattered pieces as if they were pieces of his mind he were trying to recollect.
The biggest problem was that Sonic still saw him as a kid, not as someone he could count on, but as someone he needed to look after instead. He had to make Sonic see him as something more than just a hanger-on, and after two years living with him, he knew that would not be easy. The one thing that truly motivated Sonic was the battle against Robotnik, and while Tails could use his two tails in several ways, there was little he could do to help him. And the only thing he really did well was-
Then it hit him. There were two things he did well, and as his eyes fell on the Tornado, the two pieces came together, and he knew what he had to do.
And how he could do it.
Standing up again, he ran across the room, careful to avoid the myriad sprockets and screws he'd earlier scattered. When he reached a pristine, neatly organized metal shelf, he whirled his tails around, using a set of muscles he long since learned to control to spin them in such a way that, when combined with his lightweight frame, produced just enough lift to raise him up. Gently hopping into the air, he floated toward the ceiling, eyes focused on the top shelf as he approached. On it, there were several pieces of scrap metal, a few cans of paint, half a hundred loose screws, and a small, lead-lined gray box. Reaching out, he took the box in both hands and lowered himself slowly to the floor with his prize. He'd spent some time working with the box's construction, lest some imperfection allow some small hole to form and release what he'd tried desperately to contain. Then the lid came off and he gazed excitedly at his prize.
Nestled carefully between pieces of stiff foam, a lustrous, fist sized blue stone gleamed back at him, seeming almost to reflect his excitement. Reaching in, he took hold of the gem and pulled it out, watching it flicker and glow brighter as he held it.
A jewel containing the ultimate power…….
