Dib07: Excuse my lateness! Yeah, I know, it's terrible! LOL! Anyway, here is the next update and you are no longer kept hanging! I promise my next one won't be so late!

Storm337: You wouldn't want the donuts back! Eggman would have dribbled on them! Nasty! Yeah, Eggman is stupid in his genius! Irony!

Pandamonium: Here ya go dear reader! Sorry it is so late! Too late if you ask me! XD Sonic needs to give me a nice hard slap! Thanks for your compliment! I always try and aspire to write more and more thanks to the hedgehog in blue!

DanceDream: Ah yes, Cream will probably not understand straight away what is going on, and Amy's reaction could be anything! And Knuckles... man o man! I hope they reinforce their walls in the Thorndyke mansion! XD And yeah, Tails is getting the blow now. I just hope they can all cope later on! Oh, and you'll see how Eggman takes this all in too. So far yes, he has said very, very little since he rushed Sonic into the hospital. Either he is on a guilt-trip, he is merely taking the information in (who knows why) or he's plotting something else. But he is going to need to pay the hospital parking fee for the next day or so! XD

Hope you had a happy new year, DanceDream! All the best! And sorry for the long update!

And thank you for the reviews everybody! Yippeee!

XXxxxxxxxxxxxXX

Chapter 11:

"Sonic!"

"Hey, bud." He glanced up at the approaching kitson as Chelsey undid his straps. His little platform had appeared out the other end of the machine. The dreadful din of noise had stopped and only the gentle hum of the computer terminals against the far wall could be heard. "Second worst experience in my life."

"What was your first?" Tails smiled.

"You kneeing me in the groin when you were such a little, cute cub." He grinned right back, eyelids all droopy. The soft sedation was still in full swing. The reason why they had been so gentle introducing a new tranquilizer into his system was simply due to his terrible nausea and small size. Already Chelsey was injecting him with the immediate antidote. The act of the needle going in almost went unnoticed too, until he turned round to see what she was doing to his arm. He yelped out and flinched away, taking his arm with him. "What are you d-doing?" He asked, looking more startled and mistrustful than angry or annoyed.

"It's okay. It's done now anyway. I was just helping your system wake up a little bit more." Chelsey explained. She went to brush at the jab wound with a cotton bud, at which he growled at. With a sheepish smile, she took something red out of her pocket. It was a lollipop. "Here, as promised. The last red one I had left."

"I want a whole bag of these next time and a chocolate cake for every day that I'm still here!" He used one hand to rub at a droopy eye.

"If the MRI scans are negative for damage, you won't need to undergo any more tests. You can go home today, in fact, with a little packet of prescribed medicine."

"Sounds good." Tails watched him incredulously try to leave the table of his own accord, lollipop secured tightly in one gloveless hand. Chelsey already had an arm under his and guided him downwards. His feet scrabbled to find purchase, but as the doctor left him to stand freely, Tails readily replaced her role and took Sonic under his wing.

"Don't ever tell Knux or the others about this. Namely Amy. I felt like I was being eaten and then digested by a machine. Funny, huh?"

Tails walked him back to his room while also pushing the IV line along with them (as the bottom had wheels), stopping frequently on the way there due to Sonic almost losing his balance on several occasions. Chuck, Chris and Eggman weren't coming up to see them which probably meant they were giving Tails the private time that he needed with Sonic. Chelsey however was close behind them. Sonic was after all an intensive care patient, and was never allowed out of sight.

"Why am I still here?" His confusion was still apparent and he glared abhorrently at the long walls of the corridor in mixed revulsion and wonderment.

"This is a hospital, Sonic. You are a patient here."

"Well...I did keep being sick I guess... that was gross! Another bit of information you are not to tell Rad Red! Or Shadow! Or Eggman! Or Cream!"

"Yeah. Chuck's never used a mop so much in his life before now!"

They got back to his room after Chelsey saw the trip as too long and proceeded to plonk the hapless hedgehog in a wheelchair. He made it clear he did not like being touched. She had won part of his trust over with the lolly, but as he did not know her and naturally associated her with needles, the eating machine and any other hospital device, he tensed in her touch, utterly terrified. He did not know what she was going to do next to him, and this unknowing was the worst part of it. "How long is this stay? Why are you doing this to me? A wheelchairs usually this slow?"

Chelsey wheeled him over to his bed and Tails did the honours of helping him back in. "You are hopeless sometimes, brother." Tails answered for him, helping Sonic out of the chair. He looked first up at Chelsey, then his brother, not wanting to get back into bed but having little choice. "I know what you're thinking, Sonic. It isn't going to work."

"Well, at least the bed is high up. I like that. And it's comfy too. I suppose I could put up with that for another day, if I have to."

"It's certainly better than washing machines, huh?" He waited for his brother to challenge him, but he did not. Sonic climbed back into bed which took some effort, and threw the covers back over his body as fast as he could as though to secure himself away from the doctor.

"Why was I put in an eating machine?" He then inquired, looking from one to the other.

Chelsey smiled from his childish observation and put the notes down on the desk by the bed before putting on a pair of transparent gloves. "It's an MRI scanner, not an eating machine! However, it does a marvellous job of performing the duties of an X-Ray, only better."

"I remember you, now." Sonic admitted, undoing the wrappings from the lolly, "you helped me when I first came in here, I think."

"That I did. You weren't very co-operative even then. But I've dealt with cats bigger than you, and little human children who think they can pull a tantrum on me."

"I wanna see these cats." His ears were down, and he was still evidently sulky. The fatigue from the tranquilizers did not help his mood.

He was about to put the lolly in his mouth when the doctor proceeded to strip his bedcovers back. He went to curl up immediately to defend himself against her, and all Tails could do was watch. But the kitson relaxed by a margin when he saw that she was only running her hands down his back and massaging his abdomen for possible soreness. Maybe the MRI had revealed something she was not quite willing to let on yet?

"Stop it! Please!" Sonic's demands were a mix of laughter and fear. When he was tense and agitated, a mere touch became ticklish.

"Sonic, stop making a scene!" Tails hissed quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Chelsey, though gentle in her examinations, must have hit a tender spot. Sonic's innate laughter turned into a sharp whimper of pain and he snapped his eyes shut against it, curling up even more tightly than thought possible.

"I'm deeply sorry." Chelsey said at once, her fingers hovering over his flank. "I didn't realize you'd be so sore. It won't happen again."

"Excuse me," Tails cried, "but why is he sore there?"

"Inflammation." She replied instantly, though it didn't sound like the whole truth. "Still need to define the whys and the how."

"Urm, Doctor?" Tails persisted a little shyly, "we all think he's going deaf. Can you check this out for me please?"

"Of course."

"Am not." Sonic didn't look particularly pleased. "I can hear okay, just not all of the time."

Chelsey fetched a small device that looked like it had an inverted funnel at the end. A tiny torch glared to life near the end of the plastic tip and she flicked another switch on the side of the small plastic toy-like tool. It began to emit clicking noises.

Sonic peered at it with the same respect he'd use for a grenade.

Chelsey smiled. "I do love your expressions, Sonic. You have so many, all of the time!"

"I hope that thing is c-clean!"

"Always."

Tails gently held Sonic down but he did not struggle this time. He looked too exhausted to try and escape.

Her cool, delicate fingers closed over his cranium, the other upon his left ear as she carefully eased the tool into his canal. Tails watched him pull a face. He tried to draw his ears down flat to dissuade her from examining them, which of course didn't work. Tails would have laughed if not for the situation being so serious. Once she checked his right ear, she explored the other one. Sonic gripped his bed sheets with one fist, growling disdainfully. He put up with her as much as he could, remembering the evening he had first come into her care. She had helped him. She soothed away the discomfort and pain even if he had to be touched more times that he could count. But more importantly she got him to breathe again. He had been asphyxiated with his own eternal coughing. And she had soothed it all away.

Ears done and checked, she switched her tool for another and shone a bright, offensive light into Sonic's dull pupils. Eyes hooded already, it was easy for him to turn away and close them.

"I've reached your patience levels, huh?" Chelsey put the instrument down. "That's okay. I have what I needed anyway. Sonic, you have a burst ear drum, which should heal itself in four weeks, roundabout. There was some discharge in both ears, so I'll supply you with medicine to clear that up. How well can you hear me right now?"

"Okay." He returned simply. "Depends on where my ears are...pointing I guess."

"Anyway, that's it from me. I bid you both good day and I'll leave you to rest, Sonic. You've done well. You really are a hero like the news reports say. If a little sulky!"

He sat up and recovered himself with the bed sheets, looking feasibly worried. But the doctor was true to her word and muttered another goodbye before leaving the IC room.

"Why am I always the centre of attention?" He popped the lolly into his mouth, happy and relaxed now that all invaders had left the room.

"Because you like danger, and look where it put you!"

"I was only fighting Eggman." He spoke round the lolly stick.

"You know what, Sonic?"

"Hmmm? I know plenty of things."

"You seem... I dunno. More yourself lately. Like, your thoughts are a bit more stable. Either that or I am imagining it. Now, when we get home, where will you sleep? Roof or the comfy cot in Chris's room?"

"That laundry machine. The one I shoved blankets in."

"That's the washing machine. It's used to contain water! Besides, why do you want to sleep in that old thing?"

"I couldn't smell water." He popped the sweet out of his mouth. "You can burrow it if you want."

"That's not what I'm asking. Forget it." He huffed out a sigh. "Sonic, I want you to do something for me."

"What, buddy?"

"I want you to rub the tip of your nose with one hand, and rub your tummy with the other. Can you do that for me?"

"Urm, okay...sure." He placed the lolly on the table beside him, and proceeded to rub his nose. However, Tails stopped him.

"No. At the same time."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it. Please."

His confusion kept sending Tails shards of ice cold worry. "Like...this?" He was attempting it, kind of. One finger swirled away on the tip of his nose, but only when he stopped performing the same pattern on his tummy. He could not do both tasks at once, no matter the encouragement.

"Never mind, Sonic. Finish your lolly, then you'd better take a nap. You'll be home soon, I promise."

"No more tests?"

"No more tests."

But there was. And quite a few too that Chelsey had got setup. Some hours later, after he had had the briefest of naps, she gave him a sheet of white A4 paper with the simple instructions to draw the straightest line across the page he could possibly manage. With the pencil given to him, he drew that line. Only the line curved erratically upwards. Almost childishly, he drew the remaining line on paper back down again as if this could make up for it. Chelsey ticked the test off as a clear fail on paper.

The next one resulted in him passing a ball to another and then catching it again. Because his legs were rebellious to his commands, he sat down to perform this activity with Tails on the floor of his ICU room. With three metres of floor separating each other, Tails cross-legged on the carpet, he threw the basket ball as softly as he could at his brother. The ball was big enough to grab and catch. But the ball bounced from Sonic's desperate reach each and every time. The hedgehog could throw the ball back, but his hands tried to catch the ball too early or too late. He overcompensated and did not have the accuracy to catch the ball at any one try. This too was a fail.

To keep him active, Chelsey guided him over to a painted white line that reached down to the other side of the room which was a fair five yards. His only instructions were to walk along the line and not stop until he reached the end. Tails and Chris were posted very close by in case he fell. Leaving Chelsey's hands of support, he made for the line. But as he could not walk straight, this proved to be the hardest of the tests despite its simplicity. He wondered accidently to the left and had to go all the way round to join up with the line again as he seemed unable to turn right. Sometimes he looked like he was going to fall, as though he were balancing on a rail and not the flat surface of floor. He whisked his arms out for balance, but even this resulted in wonky walking.

The outcome of the test was his third fail.

His next trial was to go up the stairs and then down it again without help. Sonic cheated and went up on all fours, refusing to walk in his normal bipedal gait despite Tails' yelling instructions. Coming down was a difficult challenge, even more so using all fours. He got stuck half way and so Chuck had to resort into carrying him down.

Another fail hit the list of fails.

Tired of tests and instructions, Sonic was allowed to sit at the table for the last set. Again he was given paper and a pen, told only to write his name and his home address. His handwriting was usually elegant, if a little scrawled because of its delivered haste, as he usually never wrote. But as he wrote his name, being careful how he drew the S and the o, it was clear how much slower he was writing. The usual style of handwriting was still intact, but the speed at which he did it was a little saddening to watch. Tails wanted to reach out and help him, but he knew it wouldn't be allowed and would result in an automatic fail unless Sonic retried.

Next came the address. Sonic leant back in the chair, remembering only his home address back on his own planet.

"It's 72, Maple Street." Tails whispered as quietly as he could.

"62 Vable Sleet?"

The very last test was to pick up objects that used both hands. The objects were numerous, from plastic cups to soaps, cloths or heavier items such as a small stool or fruit bowl. He picked them all up with ease whilst keeping himself balanced for the heavier objects, and repeated the task a few times as if to mock them. Chelsey ticked off the Pass box. It was the only test he was successful at.

Rewarded for putting up with them, Sonic was allowed to sleep back in his IC room where the chamber was darkened and a curtain was drawn around his bed to give him all the privacy and enclosed comfort he needed. Exhausted and drained, Sonic was out like a light not long after using the hospital cubicle and having mushy rice to eat. Covered in blankets to keep him snug and warm, Sonic dozed deeply on his side; head barely visible from the blankets. Tails regretfully left him to sleep. He could have sat on a chair inside the protective wall of curtain around the bed, but he was motioned by the female doctor to come with her in the open doorway. He left Sonic's room and followed her into a separate room beside his ICU chamber. "He won't go anywhere just yet, don't worry. I know the results from the MRI including the tests, and my first professional duty is to inform the patient, but this is a delicate matter and I want to inform his family first."

The first early waves of dread speared into the kitson. He did not like where this was going.

Several minutes later, they were all sitting in the room with her including Dr. Eggman. He remained at the back of the small group as always. It was strangely perverse how he was still here. At first Tails was convinced that the fat man only stayed because he gained some kind of iniquitous, sick delight from seeing Sonic suffer. A depravity born from years ago. But if that was the case, why choose to help and bring him here? And why did Dr. Eggman look calm and serious in the back row? He didn't look happy or content.

"The MRI gave us clean, clear results." Chelsey was saying, looking at them all in turn. "There's no massive bruising on his body and no broken bones or internal bleeding. His lungs are incredibly inflamed though, due to the toxic fumes he breathed in, as you told me upon our first meeting. However, I'm happy that he did all the tests and he's been very patient with me these last couple of days. Also, due to our care his breathing is stable which I am very pleased with. But..." Tails could see it coming. He felt very alone in the room. Alone and unsure with the premonition already before him after so long. "I do have some bad news. He is brain damaged. It's only going to get worse, and there is little we can do to help. The monoxide poisoning has mixed with his bloodstream very deeply, and has injured his kidneys and stomach."

The weight of the information she had given him dug into his mind like teeth gouging for the soft flesh of his mental stability. He had known, all along. But it still didn't make it any easier. All at once Tails wanted to puke, run out the room or just burst into tears. Instead a numbing chill gripped him tight, and all he could do was stare at her in open dejection and disbelief. He could not wake out of this nightmare.

Christopher looked baffled and not ready to believe her confession. It was all too sudden for him. Chuck on the other hand looked restless. Both hands cupped his cheeks. He was wise and old enough to touch on any understanding of this and the future consequences.

Chelsey continued as bravely as she could. "It explains everything, from the frontal headaches he's discussed with me, the dizziness he frequently gets and his general malaise. Damage to the brain leads to seizures and vomiting, as you have well experienced. Also, brain damage, no matter how mild or severe, tends to lead to a condition called psychosis. Now, those suffering psychosis may exhibit personality changes and thought disorder. Depending on its severity, this may be accompanied by unusual or bizarre behavior, as well as difficulty with social interaction and impairment in carrying out daily life activities. This explains the digging of holes. He may not see it as wrong or bizarre. He may exhibit these activities purely for simple enjoyment. His brain sees it as a simple action fulfilment that produces a warren."

The room got colder. Tails didn't look at the others. He was far too consumed with dread and despair. How long did brain damage last? It couldn't go on forever, could it? Sonic always got better.

"Now, him sleeping in a washing machine is common animal behaviour that I believe is not linked to brain damage." Chelsey overviewed her notes quickly before pressing on. "You told me he usually sleeps on the roof of the house. He either could not mange to get up there, or couldn't remember how to leave the house. Not feeling well, he obviously felt more vulnerable, so he made a nest in a laundry machine where he naturally felt safer."

Tails left his chair.

He was going to throw up. He felt all eyes on him, but he continued regardless. He turned the cold knob on the door and hurried out, snapping it shut behind him. The hallway air felt cooler, but didn't do much to dampen the sweat running down his fur. He could still hear her voice through the door; "his lungs are no better. Inhaling even relatively small amounts of the gas can lead to hypoxic injury, neurological damage and death." There was a flutter of paper as he could imagine her leafing through her notes again. "Carbon monoxide is very toxic, and it is easily absorbed into the lungs. Thus resulting in a shorter lifespan. He may not have lost any brain function straight after the incident. Delayed neurological damage occurs in up to 50% of poisoned patients after 2 to 40 days. His loss of consciousness during the event while poisoned sadly increases the chance of developing delayed symptoms. What you are experiencing is only the beginning of his mental breakdown."

"Speak in English." He heard Chuck retort angrily. It was clear from his voice that he couldn't quite understand what Chelsey was getting at and this frustrated him even more. "I don't fully understand. Are you saying that his behaviour is going to get worse?"

"Yes. In layman's terms, his brain will continue to disintegrate and his mood may yet further change. He can become depressed or delirious. Before you jump to conclusions, we do have medication to lighten the symptoms, though there is no cure. As areas of his brain begin to shut down, other areas of his brain may kick into gear and he may develop new ways of dealing with any given situation, as we only use 45% of our brain. But what he will mainly need is family therapy from all of you. This ranges from using pictures to communicate with, always knowing how he is feeling and if he understands and helping him to walk properly. He will also never be allowed to be in any one place on his own. He will need constant supervision. You may need to purchase toys or gear to keep his mind stimulated as much as possible to keep the injured parts of his brain alive as much as possible. The soda accident that involved you, Christopher, was a little harder to explain. It may be due to the traumatic stress he suffered. If not, his one working ear may have been oversensitive at the time and the noise distressed him."

Chuck overrode her. "Well, what kind of medicine will he need to take?"

"They are all oral medicines. These will include daily antipsychotic medicine. Anti-nausea tablets and inhalers. He will not be allowed any aspirin or paracetamol as this will induce vomiting. I'm sorry. I really am, but this is the reality you are all facing. You have to come to terms with it. The quicker the better."

Tails banged his head against the concrete wall by the door. Please stop this! Please let it be over! None of this is real!

Chelsey continued as confidently as she could in the room with the others. "Cognitive rehabilitation therapy is a program to help impaired individuals to help restore normal function or to compensate for his odd left hemisphere of balance. It's almost like he's had a stroke. Maybe he did, very lightly. But even a light stroke is enough to paralysis one side of his body depending on which side of the brain was affected. The MRI scan revealed that the left side of his brain was more damaged, affecting the right side of his body." There was a shuffle of nervous feet. Possibly Chuck's as he left his chair, perhaps overcome with emotion.

"This is lunacy!" Tails heard his voice crack in sadness. "It was just a little odd behaviour he showed! He can still talk fine! How much worse is he going to get?"

"We're not sure, but the damage has been done. He may lose all sense of logic and understanding. He may not be able to form sentences within a month or two. He may be unable to separate dream from reality. What matters is that we medicate him straight away. Give him the treatment he needs to at least slow down the process."

In Chuck's desperation, Tails heard him call out Mr Smith's real name. "Dr. Eggman, is there nothing you can do for him?"

"I am Mr. Lucien Smith, you fool. I can do nothing either. Do I look like a miracle worker to you?"

Tails left the door and raced hard to the nearest hospital bathroom for the ICU's patients. There he crashed into a cubical from the haste and puked heavily into the toilet bowl. He retched up all that was inside of him and afterwards, exhausted from the effort, he pressed on the sensor button to flush it and watched it all be sucked away. He leaned on the toilet rim, panting. If they had sought help sooner for Sonic, would have things been less...bad?

"No..." He muttered aloud, hating the taste of bile in his mouth. The warehouse explosion had set it all in motion. All it took was Sonic to breathe in that deadly gas long enough and then asphyxiate. What they did for him afterwards meant little in the long run. He couldn't blame Chris. That day had long been and gone, and the boy had been lucky to get Sonic's breathing restarted at all. He could have died that very same day.

That day Chelsey had examined his flanks too and accidently hurt him: it was to feel how inflamed his kidneys were to correspond with the MRI imaging.

He stared deeply into the toilet water, memorized by his own haunting reflection. He wanted to sit here forever, and wish time would just stop. But he had to leave the toilet. He had to get on with life. For a moment he wanted to hate Eggman more than ever. Eggman caused the explosion with his stupid machinery. But then, he had always used machinery. He and Sonic had always been at war. It had just been an unfortunate day where Sonic came out worse. A lot worse.

Even playful cubs had accidents in their games. Eevn Tails had said before to Knuckles some time ago:

'I think Sonic just got caught out. He does have this unfortunate habit of throwing himself into danger body first. Something like this was bound to happen.'

Tails sat thinking. Should he believe everything Dr. C. Clover said? Or rebuke her findings altogether? Sure, he had failed all the tests except one, but he wasn't exactly in the best of health anyway.

He left the toilet and leaned against the cold cubicle wall. With dawning horror, Tails remembered something Chuck said after Sonic's very first convulsion all those days ago:

'The major concern now is what the later effects will be for him. Carbon monoxide poisoning can create delayed neurological manifestations. This could affect his intellectual functions and give him memory loss, trouble walking. As we've already seen, acute poisoning delivers seizures, even severe shock.'

Ironic really. After the MRI scan, Sonic was agitated; yes, but happy. Much more himself. Was it because they were medicating him already though?


TBC