Chapter 25

Doxa

"The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There isn't any other test. If the machine produces tranquility it's right."

- Robert M. Pirsig

The door to Professor Von Schlemmer's office stood ajar, and despite the exhaustion welling beneath his eyelids, Sonic couldn't help but peek inside as he past it in the hallway. Schlemmer himself laid slump in his chair, his arms flopped over his keyboard, and his eyes closed as he snored softly.

How late was it? For that matter, what day was it? Time itself seemed to have lost meaning ever since Nega had captured them both. There was no day, and despite the darkness, there was no night either, not without the moon or stars. There was only the endless, frantic running. Yet not the kind of running Sonic enjoyed, but the kind that sapped his vitality and left only dull exhaustion in its wake.

Sonic shook his head, still creeping down the hallway, carrying Metal. Metal's head rested limply against Sonic's chest, his optical screen blank. Sonic knew that Metal was only trying to conserve power, that Metal was still fine, and yet whenever he saw Metal's lifeless form, he could think of nothing else but the way Metal had nearly died. The sooner he could plug Metal in, the better.

Up ahead, light streamed into the dark hallway from another cracked door, and Sonic walked up to it, prying it open with the bottom of his foot. The room inside was cramped with papers and dusty computers, an old, gray couch stuffed into the corner. Despite the couch's stains and general lumpiness, a single pillow and blanket were stacked neatly on its cushions.

Sonic blinked. Had Schlemmer set out blankets for him?

Metal shifted in his arms, his optical screen flickering dimly to life. "You may put me down. This room has electricity."

Sonic clutched Metal more tightly despite the stiff, tired pain in his arms. "Put you down? What, and make you figure all this out even though you were nearly blown up?"

Sonic stepped over a stack of papers as he trotted to the couch. Jamming his foot into its side, he slid the couch a few inches, revealing an electrical outlet hidden behind it.

"Come on, Mets, what kind of best friend would I be if I did that?" Sonic said, gently sitting Metal upright against the cushions.

"Technically, I was not blown up," Metal said, rubbing his forehead. "But my need for electricity is urgent."

Sonic leaned on the couch's armrest with both hands. "I know. Can you shift just a little to the left? Perfect," Sonic said. As Metal turned Sonic lifted his hand, pressing his palm to Metal's side.

"What are you—" Metal started, but quietly trailed off as Sonic ran his fingers over Metal's chassis. As soon as he felt a seam, Sonic stopped and quickly pressed his fingers against it, popping open a small panel. Sonic leaned down, trying to get a closer look, and soon found Metal's power cable. He unwound it from its harness, pulling it free then snapping it into the outlet by the couch.

The overhead lights suddenly flickered and cut out, leaving the room in darkness. Sonic blinked. Why were the lights out? Would there be enough power for Metal? He jerked his head back at Metal but then noticed the brilliant glow of his companion's red eyes.

"Better?" Sonic asked hopefully.

Metal nodded. "Yes, though as you can see, or I suppose, rather not see, the voltage in this building is weak. It will take longer to recharge myself, and it appears as if other devices that require electricity, such as these lights, will not operate while I draw power from the grid."

Sonic let out a sigh of relief. He stood up, shuffled a few steps toward Metal, and plopped down on the couch by his side.

"So you're good? You need anything else?" Sonic said with a yawn. He eyed the pillow next to him. It really was thoughtful of Schlemmer to leave it out, and Sonic couldn't wait to drop his face into it.

"Do I need anything? Sonic, I do not mean to be...what is the word? Insistent? Overbearing? You appear as if you are ready to collapse. You need rest far more than I. Do not worry yourself over my condition," Metal said, rising a few inches up from the cushions. "I will now relocate to the floor."

"What? No!" Sonic said, pushing Metal back to the couch. "You're not gonna sleep on the floor. There's more than enough room for both of us up here."

The room was dark, and the only light source beamed from Metal's eyes. They glowed softly, the red light giving the ordinarily blue Metal a violet tint. Sonic gazed at Metal's form, at the dents in his armor and the cracks in his engine panel.

The two of us...both of us...we've both been through so much, Sonic thought, rubbing the burns on his arms. And yet...the only reason we're both still here right now...is because we had each other.

"The floor is no discomfort for me," Metal said. As Sonic looked up, he caught Metal's gaze, a mixture of concern and understanding, and Sonic felt a warmth began to spread in his chest.

"Do not worry. I will not be able to feel it," Metal added.

Sonic froze. "You...can't feel it? The floor?"

A cold horror seeped through him, the warmth evaporating. What if...what if Metal couldn't feel any physical sensation at all? Sonic had already accepted that whatever this thing was between himself and Metal, it would inevitably involve some complications, but he had never considered Metal might completely lack any and all sensation.

Metal's voice broke Sonic out of his thoughts. "What? No, of course I can feel the floor. How else would I walk if I could not feel the floor?"

Sonic shook his head and focused back at Metal. "So wait...you can feel? You can feel things?"

"Yes. Though like most robots, I am incapable of feeling pain. But I certainly can 'feel things,' even if that definition is technically imprecise."

Sonic smiled, cupping his hands around Metal's wrist, appreciating how smooth and warm they were. "Ha! So see—you've gotta stay on the couch then. Maybe the floor wouldn't make you feel worse, but sleeping up here is way more comfy. It'll make you feel better."

"If you are certain there is enough room," Metal said. He looked down at Sonic's hands around his wrist. Slowly, he lifted his other hand toward Sonic, raising it as if to embrace him, but then dropped it to his side again and looked away.

Sonic blinked. Why hadn't Metal hugged him? Metal always loved hugs.

"Mets?" Sonic asked, sliding closer to Metal. He took Metal's hand, entwining Metal's fingers with his own. "You alright?"

"Yes, it is just…" Metal glanced up at Sonic then quickly turned away again. "My condition is acceptable."

"It's not your condition. It's how you feel. Are you alright? Come on. You can tell me anything." Sonic squeezed Metal's hand, just as he had done to reassure Metal back when they had scaled Nega's tower.

Metal looked away. "It is just...it is just so ridiculous. I do not think I have ever thought something so ridiculous in my entire existance," Metal said, and much to Sonic's continued surprise, Metal seemed to flush, the bottom portion of his optical screen glowing just slightly red.

Sonic leaned into Metal, anticipation making his fur stand on end. Now he really needed to know. "I'm sure it's not ridiculous. Come on, you can tell me anything. I promise."

Red light streamed between Metal's fingers as Metal gazed at his own hand. "I...I suppose so. Do you recall, back when we were stranded in that abandoned cabin-like structure, I had to hold you all night. Remember?"

"Yes," Sonic said, his voice barely above a whisper. How could he ever forget that?

"Prior to that evening...well, you know how I had always wanted to be the 'real Sonic' and such, and it always made me wonder...what would it feel like to...to have fur. You see, I always had this smooth armor, but you had fur. And I had always wondered...what that was like. What it would feel like. And on that night—"

Metal flushed and looked away. "I am sorry. I told you it was ridiculous."

"Metal," Sonic said, leaning closer, now inches from Metal. "That's not ridiculous at all. It's only natural to wonder about stuff like that."

Metal nodded, meeting Sonic's gaze again. "The ridiculous part was not my curiosity. It was...well, once I knew what your fur felt like, I thought it was…"

Metal shook his head. "I am sorry, Sonic, but this is difficult for me to articulate, especially given I lost so much of my natural language processing data. But your fur was so different from all I known before, so different from Eggman's cold, harsh garrisons. It was...it was soft. And warm. And it felt...unlike anything else I have had felt before. It felt...I do not know the word. I cannot properly articulate this without my internal dictionary data..."

Metal's eyes flickered, and he looked away. "I do not know why I trouble you with something so trivial. I know we have more pressing concerns and—"

"You can do it again, if you want," Sonic whispered.

"E-excuse me?" Metal looked up at him, taken aback.

"My fur. You can feel it again, if you want. I don't mind at all," Sonic said, leaning closer, his face now inches from Metal's cheek.

Metal stared at Sonic cautiously, deliberately. Slowly, he lifted his arm, his hand hovering just above Sonic's shoulder. He paused.

"Are you certain there is time for this? Nega is still a threat and—"

Sonic brought his own hand up and pushed Metal's hand down onto his own shoulder. "Forget Nega. He's not here right now. It's just the two of us—me and you."

Metal nodded. Slowly, Metal's fingers relaxed around Sonic's shoulder, brushing into the fur on Sonic's back. Sonic shivered, though not from cold, as Metal's hand pushed through his fur, and Metal's warm, smooth fingers brushed his skin.

"It is just as I remembered, though I am still in awe. Your fur is so versatile," Metal said, drawing his hand down the fur of Sonic's back, smoothing it. "From the outside, your fur appears coarse, as if engineered to keep out the water and cold."

"But against your skin," Metal said, slipping his hand into Sonic's fur again. "It is so soft and warm. It is a such remarkable thing."

"Metal…" Sonic murmured. Metal was now tightening and relaxing his grip as he massaged Sonic's shoulder. Sonic sighed softly, rolling his shoulder up into Metal's palm.

A part of him insisted he stop. Metal was a robot! Worse, Metal was supposed to be his robotic clone. Of course, Metal wasn't really Sonic's clone—he was his own person, his own wonderful, beautiful person and yet—what even was this thing between himself and Metal? What would everyone think if they knew?

And yet somehow, these thoughts only forced him closer to Metal, to relish the skill with which Metal massaged his shoulder.

Sonic leaned forward, further and further, until his chin slipped over Metal's shoulder. His hands wandered up, finding their way to Metal's waist and wrapping around him. With a single tug, Sonic lifted himself onto Metal's chest, hands still clasped to Metal's back.

"Sonic," Metal said, his muzzle hovering above Sonic's ear. "Should I stop?"

"Don't stop," Sonic said breathlessly. He pressed his face to Metal's cheek, letting the heat wash over his face. He inhaled deeply, taking in the true complexity of Metal's scent. The tinge of ozone was still there, but now he could smell so much more. Scents he had never noticed before, and yet, he somehow knew what they all were. The sweet steel of Metal's armor, the tang of lead in his electronics, and many other alloys he had yet to taste.

Metal's hands wandered down to the small of Sonic's back, wrapping around him and pulling Sonic into his chest. Metal slid backward, bringing his legs up to the couch and laying down on his back. Sonic followed him, slipping down until he laid over Metal's chest with his face still pressed to Metal's cheek.

For a long moment, they simply laid together, Metal's arms wrapped around his back and Sonic's hands tucked around Metal's chest. Sonic let himself stop, for just a second, and forget the world around him. It was just he and Metal on this couch, and despite the lumps in the cushions, despite the burns on his arms, despite everything that had happen, Sonic had never felt so comfortable in his entire life.

Metal brought his hand up, running it down the fur of Sonic's back. Sonic's eyelids grew heavy, his need for sleep pressing in his mind. Sonic sighed as Metal brought his hand higher, gently brushing the fur at the base of his neck.

"Sonic, what happened here?" Metal said, running his fingers across the cracked, metallic scar on Sonic's back. As his fingers touched the scar, a tiny, electric pulse, almost like static, jolted Sonic's skin.

Sonic gasped. Unlike static, that hadn't hurt at all. In fact, the shock had felt quite pleasant, like Metal had just massaged the most tense part of his back.

Sonic blinked, now slightly more awake despite his exhaustion. "That? Well, after you...died, Nega threw me in the roboticizer. It didn't work, though. I got out, luckily with nothing more a scratch."

"This is where your wound was. It appears partially roboticized, but I suppose that at least means there is no longer a risk of infection." As Metal scratched his scar, the electric pulse returned, vibrating along wherever Metal touched.

"Fascinating. Can you feel that as well? The shock?"

Sonic lifted his head just enough to look up at Metal. "You mean you can feel it too?"

"Of course," Metal said, his hands trailing up to Sonic's shoulders. "It is as I already explained."

"Metal…" Sonic said. Metal's hands had moved up, and now he was gently pushing his fingertips into Sonic's neck.

Sonic closed his eyes. He was tired, so tired, too tired to think. All he knew was that Metal was safe, that Metal was holding him in his arms, that Metal's muzzle was so close to his own.

Sonic opened his mouth and slowly let his own muzzle drift toward Metal, feeling his own breath misting back on his face. So close.

"Sonic?"

"Mmm?" Sonic muttered, partially broken from tired trance.

"Your heartbeat—I cannot feel it. It is simply not there."

"Wha—" Sonic said, still trying to awake to mental clarity.

"Sonic, listen to me. You have no pulse."