Hi there! :)

Irrelevant author's note: I read Prison Island Break. Best fanfic. Very hot. 10/10 would recommend it.

This chapter has no prison and it has no island breaking, but it does have Knuckles (and taxes). Not rapist Knuckles, but conflicted Knuckles.

I think I prefer conflicted Knuckles.

Enjoy!

P.S. I called Empire City "Liberty City" in the last chapter. Typo….maybe. Tomato, tomato. Will it be fixed? Probably.

Probably not.

"C'mon, let's give it one more round,"

The warrior ropes smacked against the gym mats causing a thundering slap to echo throughout the warehouse. The faster they went the louder it got. Waves of sound and straw and braided material of something. Probably paper and horse hair and plastic. Either way it hit the floor, and it hit it fast. Despite that, the Echidna encouraged the large gator to keep going.

Sweat poured from his forehead, his grip stiff, his back straight, and his arms swaying the heavy rope. "Gahhh!" He roared. Painfully so. It was a show of power, might, testosterone. It was quite the workout.

"10 seconds on the clock. Let's give it your all!" The stopwatch ticked down, the rope flinging grew more intense. Vector let out another primal bark as his arms burned and his legs gave in. The timer beeped and the rope dropped along with the beast. He was so exhausted he was huffing as much as a hungry wolf. Huffing and puffing. Breathing heavy. Ready to blow down a pig's house.

"Damn," Victor said. "That took a lot outta me," He panted.

"Yeah? Well you did a good job today. Didn't think you could manage two hours straight, no breaks, but you proved me wrong," Knuckles handed him a towel and water bottle.

"Thanks man. I haven't had much time to exercise after I tied the knot. I guess that's what marriage does to ya, huh?" Vector set up and sprayed the very last drop of water down his huge jaws. The towel was used to wipe his mouth and all the sweat. It was soaked when he was through with it.

The mention of marriage had Knuckles grinning. It was the obvious next step in any man's life; school, career, relationship, marriage. It was all laid out nice and neatly for him. All he had to do was follow said layout and his normal life would be easily achieved. Just how he wanted it.

"How has the misses been by the way," A hand was extended to the gator, Vector took it and Knuckles helped him on his feet before patting him on his back.

"She's been good. I'm still getting used to the whole daddy thing, but her daughter grew on me." The two made their way towards the shower room. The gym was fairly empty except for a few patrons scattered here and there. Knuckles had plans that evening anyway, so it worked out.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Silver hadn't showed up yet and it was an hour past their scheduled time. Looking at his screen he realized it was Tikal and not his client. The text was just a frowny face. He put the phone away. "Parenthood. I don't know how you manage it,"

"Yeah, me neither,"

A child's wails filled the crowded waiting room. It's mother doing little to hush it. It was her job; provide comfort, or at the least give everyone else a break before get dragging into the chamber of boredom. No one wanted to spend half an hour doing their taxes. Talk about making bad, worse, and something mundane, infuriating.

Most people seemed bothered by the little nuisance, but knuckles didn't mind. It was in a child's nature to state their grievances, and it just so happened that crying their lungs out was how it was done. Annoying? Yes. Adorable? Debatable. Would he complain about it? In his head, but right now he had the face of a friendly teddy. Whenever the little girl turned in his direction he would smile and provide a thumbs up. Thumbs up because she was doing just fine sitting there and being a kid—a bad kid, but kid nonetheless. It didn't stop the tantrum, but at least it gave her the knowledge that someone heard her even if it was a stranger.

"Number 473. Number 473 please step forward."

The mother got off the phone, picked up her purse, and wheeled the child's stroller towards the front desk. When she disappeared a collective sigh of relief went off in the waiting room. Finally peace and quiet.

But now there was nothing to do except stare at the television which only played the weather channel. Sunny today, sunny tomorrow, a chance at a thunderstorm on the weekend. Typical spring showers. He had nothing to do that weekend anyway. He did have something to do today, someone to meet up with, but he got a no call no show and Knuckles took that as silently quitting. That was fine. Working out definitely wasn't for everyone. Silver would manage. Silver was probably fine. Sure, the guy looked like he was seconds away from ending it all, but maybe he found a better life coach. Maybe he was sick.

Knuckles should give him a call.

Maybe he would give the guy until the end of the day. The depression caused people to sleep in. He was probably sleeping in and not debating suicide. It wasn't like Knuckles involvement would be the one thing that saved the guys life. His brain needed to stop thinking. Focus on the forecast he told himself.

Damnit! Was some feedback that everything was okay too much to ask? Silver should be calling him. He hoped he would soon.

"Number 474. Number 474 please step forward."

"Gooooooooood Morning! Daddy-os and dudettes, you are now listening to Radio Racket; your one stop shop for the best 90s hit. To start the night off, why don't we play something slowwww. This song goes out to all the single ladies tuned in,"

The late evening sky glowed a soft pink as the sun slowly fell below the horizon. The lights from the traffic shimmered like artificial stars. Horns honked, music played, engines roared. The bustling streets of Empire City shreeched at the top of its mighty lungs like a crazed banshee, yet it was beautiful.

The radio bumped an old 90s RnB slow jam. Knuckles rested his head in his palms, his elbow propped up from the open window. He was behind the wheel, stuck in rush hour and the music wasn't exactly helping. If it were any other day he'd happily sing along, hell he'd put on a wicked performance for his fellow car mates sharing the road. Today just wasn't one of those days.

As the traffic steadily moved forward, only by what felt like an inch, Knuckles messed with the switch. Tuning it over and over again as it switched from station to station, to static to static. No rhythm and blues for him today, the romantic mood was all but lost. He was at the verge of simply turning off the radio when he landed on something interesting.

"—Detective Hill was the lead investigator in the Infinite Manor case, devoting nearly two decades of her career uncovering the horrors that took place on the property." A studious man spoke over quiet, ominous, violin strings. Knuckles turned up the volume. True crime had slowly become an interest of his. It was terrifying realizing how evil the world could be, but a normal evil. Not earth shattering evil, or end-of-time evil. As morbid as it may be, that is what he liked—preferred. Robbery, rape, abuse. It was the ugly that the average person put up with, and spending his teenagehood as a hero made him realize how much he missed the simpler crimes. But crime was still crime, and all crime deserved to be punished—just not by him. He'd join the police force if he cared to take down the big bads. He didn't care to take down the big bads. Now obesity? That was the dragon he'd love to slay.

The music slowed down as a new voice replaced the other. She sounded worn, tired, like a muffled tape recorder. Rusty. As rusty as the dusted keys of a neglected typewriter. "I've been working as a detective in Empire City for the last 30 years and that case by far is the one that still sticks with me. 10 months after we finally put it to rest and I still find myself waking up in the middle of the night with grief,"

The evening breeze blew past the open car window. Knuckles ran a spiked hand through his red fur. The vehicle in front of him moved another inch. He followed suit.

"It was a massacre. The whole property was a bloodbath, I'm talking big names we have been trailing for years; killed. These weren't weak men either, most of them Mobians with unique abilities that had our squad unable to tackle a raid leading to the least casualties as possible," The more the narrator spoke the more he could envision the scene. As if he were sitting in front of a television; clips of the crime flashing on screen, the detective looking just beyond the camera so as not to break an invisible fourth wall and cause the viewer some discomfort. Text below her flashing credentials. The whole nine yards.

"Yet when our units arrived, there stood the two kids. Completely untouched. We recognized the pair from the hundreds of exploitive material we've gathered in the years. The two damn near made up our whole case. The boy, a hedgehog, was particularly popular in what they would call the '*child sex industry*'—it's all a load of bull and just videotaped abuse, but these sickos don't see it that way,"

Knuckles sat up at the mention of a hedgehog. His first thought was to his friend; Sonic. Obviously they weren't referring to him. Sonic was the last guy that could ever get caught up in a sex ring, not to mention they had been friends for years and fought together for just as long. It could've been anyone, a random hedgehog totally unknown to him. It probably was a stranger—

"There was also a girl with him. She had been seen in a lot of illegal movies doing things no person, let alone a child, should be forced to endure. She was a fan favorite and often paired with the boy. They referred to them as the dynamic duo because the viewer base would spike whenever the kitten was on screen." The voice went on and as she did it started to feel more personal. A hedgehog was hardly a thing to write home about but he had this gut feeling, this itch in the back of his head, to try and pair it to who he knew. Where had he heard dynamic duo before? Sonic and Tails, but that could be coincidence. Besides, Tails was a boy.

"And how do you think the two managed to kill them all?" The host spoke again. His voice soft, alluring, almost to calm the listeners as the gut wrenching subject matter went on.

Knuckles found himself at the edge of his seat. He too wanted to know how they managed it. A secret government agency, or perhaps vigilantes, an act of god striking the offenders dead? A horn honked behind him as the flow of traffic moved.

Knuckles did not.

"The boy possesses powers. From what he told us he couldn't take it anymore, so he made their heads explode,"

The sliced chicken breast sizzled in the pan. Oil popped below it, heating, cooking, burning, yet Knuckles found himself staring beyond the food rather than at it. His mind wandered to an unknown place and it took the sting of jumping oil to pull him back to reality. He winced in pain. Rushed to run his arm under cold water.

It hurt yet he found he didn't feel it, almost as if the pain simply didn't matter at the moment. All day he had been wrestling with the thought of putting his new client behind him, he didn't show up for the first day of training? So what? Life gets busy for most people, it got busy for him. They can try again tomorrow and see if he shows up.

Normal procedure. Nothing to write home about.

Yet there he stood in front of the sink as bothered as a death in the family. There might as well be a funeral. His mood had one foot in the grave.

The rice boiled over and the chicken sat burnt. Were the vegetables better off? Nope. They were a soggy mess of greens and totally devoid of all flavor. This was exactly why he left the cooking to Tikal.

With a quick clean up, dinner was served in under 10 minutes. The table was set. It was a matter of playing the waiting game now, so he waited. And waited, and waited, and waited. With all the silence it was easy to slip back into his head.

Right now he was caught up on the podcast. Right now it was a balance between Sonic and Silver. A big pain in the ass but one he wanted to address. The need to hear the rest of the story weighed heavy on his shoulders. Despite knowing better he couldn't help but see Sonic as the mysterious trafficked boy.

It all just added up.

Sonic was a hedgehog, he was male, and he knew and fought Infinite. What more evidence does one need? Case closed. He solved the DaVinci code. Not only that, but it would explain the odd behavior he's displayed in the past few days.

Knuckles slammed his palms on the table, startling his cold meal, as he had an eureka! moment. He rushed to find his phone before scrolling through his contacts. Sonic probably wouldn't pick up, all his other calls went straight to voicemail, but maybe if he made it very clear how urgent the—not so urgent—situation was, maybe he'd get a response? Amy got a response. Sonic didn't even like Amy. Whatever the fuck the enchidna did to get the silent treatment was beyond him. This was high school level bull if he ever saw it.

The dial tone rang. Then it rang some more. The anxiety waiting for a call to pick up was an odd one. Like a person was left in unintentional anticipation. Like your heart was racing despite trying to call grandma to see if she took her meds on time, and when the response finally came that breath you were holding in can finally get released, or if it didn't get through, well, then started the fit of kissing teeth and grumbling under the breath.

Sonic didn't pick up.

Knuckles leaned against his dining room window overlooking the city. "Hey man, when you get this message give me a call. I haven't seen you in a few days and I get it if life is kicking ass right now, but I just wanna know why you bailed on the party and if—you're outside?!" As he looked down at the dark empty streets, who else did he spot but the devil himself? Sonic was just outside the gym trying to peek through a crack in the garage door, or that is what he assumed. Who the fuck knew what he was doing all hunched and barely out of view. It was suspicious but went ignored. Knuckles lived on the third floor of the building just above his place of business, and did it have a lot of cons, but right now he was looking at a pro.

The dread head growled as he hung up the phone and opened his windows. "You son of a bitch! So instead of answering your phone you rather bother me at the odd hours of the night?!" He yelled, surely disturbing a few neighbors.

Sonic backed away from the door as he looked up at his friend with the biggest, cheekiest, shit-eating, grin on his face. "I didn't know you missed me that much, baby girl!" Then a kiss was blown his way and Knuckles couldn't help but shake his head.

"You're lucky I wanna talk to you otherwise I'd leave your ass in the cold for that comment!" Despite the words of vitriol, Knuckles also grinned. He was happy to finally see his friend after all these years—3 days. It's only been 3 days, but Sonic being the social butterfly that he was, radio silence for even a day was cause for concern.

"You wanna unlock the door for me, or am I busting in SWAT style?!" Sonic couldn't seem to stand still in one spot . He was a child on a sugar rush; jogging in place, stretching, bouncing. An ADHD baby. One with a bastard face and a mile wide smile.

Knuckles didn't give him a verbal reply, he simply got up, headed outside his apartment, down the stairs, and opened the side door. Again Sonic was fidgety. Almost like an addict.

"Are you on drugs?" Knuckles asked flat out. There was no amusement in his tone. He was serious.

"Wha?" There was a brief moment of confusion as the hedgehog got nearer to the door and as they made their eye contact. "Am I on drugs?" Sonic repeated. He chuckled to himself. It was clear he didn't take the question to heart.

Knuckles held the door open then shut it when they both entered the building. He guided him towards the steps. Sonic's been there a million times, he knew where he was going, yet he followed as if trekking new territory.

"Nah. I thought about it, but once I realized it'd mess with my dashingly good looks I dropped the thought faster than a hot potato. Are you on steroids?"

The question was warranted, and Sonic appeared to give an honest answer, so Knuckles would return the courtesy. "You'd know if I were on steroids. Barely got the muscle mass for it now,"

"Yeah and you'd be beating the shit outta Tikal. Unless you already do that,"

"Haha, very funny," Eye rolls and sarcasm. Two things that went better together than peanut butter and jelly. Knuckles left his apartment door open. Sonic kicked off his shoes and threw them haphazardly near the wall. The place was clean and overly organized. One would think it happened after Tikal moved in, but the flat was far more neat before her.

"As a hedgehog who respects women, I don't find domestic violence very funny," He took a seat at the table and picked at the cold food. It looked gross but he was starving, so a piece of burnt chicken was thrown down the hatch.

"Yet you beat up your brother right in front of your younger sister. You wanna tell me about that,"

Sonic paused. Then he let out one short chuckle.

"Nah. I don't wanna talk about that. I came here because I have a problem and...uh.. well you're my best friend beyond Tails, but he's a kid, so..."

"Yeah I wouldn't consider a kid as my best friend, but I get that you guys have history. Go on," Knuckles returned to his own seat. The food remained untouched.

Again Sonic paused. He no longer looked so confident and that smirk of his died down like a smothered flame. "I'm just scared I'll do something very bad, and I was curious how you would handle it if in my situation?" The way he deliberately tried to evade looking in Knuckles general location told of his discomfort. The avoidance, the rise in the forehead muscles, the bags under the eyes; all telltale signs. "I guess I just want a level head who's 100% on team good guys, Y'know? No one neutral. No one who would encourage one bad thing simply because I do a whole heap of...hero stuff."

And there he had it. The confirmation was given to Knuckles on a silver platter. The boy in the podcast had to be Sonic and this whole dilemma had to be related. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. God, if only he was good at the mental stuff, then he would manage to really offer decent help for the horrific struggles Sonic was going through.

The hedgehog turned his back to him, and it was when he heard faint sniffling did it become clear why.

"I don't want to hurt anyone, Knux. I just want to be normal again and not have these awful thoughts. I'm telling myself—I keep hearing it's inevitable, but that's not true. It can't be,"

To lessen his friend's embarrassment Knuckles refrained from patting him on the back or treating him like a defenseless woman, Sonic was not. He was perhaps the strongest man Knuckles knew. He'd argue much stronger than even himself. To cry was not to show weakness, but a call for help, and everyone needed a hand at times.

"When I used to guard the chaos emeralds I often questioned if it would be worth it to take a life if it were to the benefit of the world. It was an external conflict I'd struggled with for such a long time, and to tell you the truth, I never did come to a conclusion. I will tell you this; a bad deed doesn't negate the good that you've done, but it will corrupt you to your very core. Soon you'll start to make excuses to do it again. Soon it will become ritual. Soon the bad will outweigh the good." It might've not been the right advice but it was the advice that Knuckles knew. He had to be honest and he was never for sugarcoating. So he continued.

"And then there are things that you just don't do. Not even once. I don't know if I'd put murder on that list, but it's okay if you did take a life or you're thinking about it,"

Sonic wiped his face but still kept his back to him. His body shook. He bashed a closed fist against his dome a few times. Frustration was in his voice. "It's much worse, Knux. It's so much worse. My brain is broken and I want to do terrible things to—"

The front door opened.

Tikal placed a stack of mail on the coffee table and her purse on the floor when she noticed the extra pair of shoes. Looking up she smiled when she saw the quills of the blue blur in their dining room. "Sonic! It's nice to see you! Knuckles and I have been holding on to your birthday present and I guess it was a good thing we did since you aren't living at home anymore,"

Sonic now faced the kitchen. Knuckles could see the side of his face and he could see his hopeless attempt at drying tears without making it obvious. Tikal approached and he stopped her.

"We do have your present. Why don't we get it?" The echidna ushered his girlfriend towards their room. She quickly followed without much protest.

"Sure. We won't be long," She quickly closed the door before Knuckles could. Her face dropped its smile as she now looked equally as upset as Sonic. "You haven't been answering my texts,"

"You know I'm busy during the day. It totally slipped my mind," He was expecting another argument about made up infidelity, when instead his girlfriend covered her face in her palms. She sighed. Knuckles crossed his arms. "You okay, Ti?"

"No. Today was a nightmare." It was a disgruntled mumble followed by her body leaning against the door.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Sonic lied about Sonia molesting him and I don't know why. He isn't here because of that? Tell me if he spoke to you about it," Tikal grabbed Knuckles by the arm as she too looked on the verge of tears. "You don't look shocked so he must've,"

Again another sign. Another confirmation. "He didn't, but I think I know why he lied to you—how did that conversation even come about anyway?"

"Amy—" Tikal was cut off before she could even start.

"Of course." He was getting very tired of her shit. Most of the drama in their friend circle somehow tied back to Amy. She was a magnet for it. It would've been impressive if not annoying. "I'm not going to gossip or expose his business, but Sonic is going through a lot right now. I say we let this lie slide for the time being,"

Tikal pouted. She said "Fine." Then she gave in.

He held her cheeks and looked into her eyes. Her nose leaked a stream of clear snot. Knuckles wiped it with his glove. "I don't want you talking to Amy anymore,"

"You're not my dad," The prissy princess pulled away. Her wet nose went up defiantly like a rebellious teenage girl.

"I'm not, but your father trusts me to protect you and Amy will get you hurt one of these days, and when that happens I can't be held accountable for the things I will do,"

"Stop."

"I'm serious. I'm not above hitting women,"

"Would you hit me?"

That was a non question. Knuckles didn't want to even entertain it. "No. Let's get the gift. Sonic probably thinks we're screwing in here,"

"If you'd hit a woman you could hit me," It appeared she wanted to dig in her heels on this conversation. Tikal blocked the door.

Knuckles sighed. He wasn't in the mood to argue. "I should've never worded it like that, but I mean what I said about Amy being a bad influence,"

"Okay, daddy. I won't talk to her anymore. We aren't on speaking terms anyways," Tikal smirked as she booped Knuckles on the nose. She kissed his cheek. Again, she gave in, too quickly. It meant the moment Amy apologized would be the moment they were friends again. It meant this conversation would soon be null and void. It meant there was a slight chance Knuckles really would have to hit a woman in the future. Annoying, but for the sake of keeping the peace he let the topic die.

"The gift is in the closet," Tikal was out of the room before Knuckles could even see where she was pointing to. He heard her greet Sonic again only this time his friend greeted back. They fell into casual conversation.

Knuckles took this moment to have a breather.

The gift was tucked away under a stack of folded laundry. It wasn't wrapped, but was a packaged camera. Knuckles wanted to give him another pair of sneakers, Tikal thought the gift was cheap. It kind of was—cheap in thought—but the shoes definitely weren't. Speedsters loved their sneakers and needed ones that wouldn't break at the seams at high velocity. Such material cost an arm and a leg, yet a camera was supposedly better?

Happy wife, happy life. Anything to keep the dearest smiling.

"...it's just going to be us. Totally cozy friend gathering, but it wouldn't feel right without you two," Sonic leaned against the kitchen island stuffing his face with soggy vegetables.

Tikal sat at the table with the gross food pushed away. Her body faced Sonic as she wore that same smile from earlier. "We'd love to go! Is it next week?"

"What's going on?" Knuckles placed the box in front of Sonic who all but shined a few watts brighter at the appearance of the gift.

"Amy planned a camping trip to make up for Sonic's birthday," Tikal explained as she rested her head on her palms while watching the hedgehog tear through the box. She was that mother on Christmas morning. What joy a present could bring.

Knuckles didn't feel joy. Already she forgot about the conversation they had a minute ago. No more Amy? Well that unsurprisingly didn't last long. He said. "Really? Hmm," Then nothing further.

"Oh don't look at me like that. I'm not going for her. I'm going for Sonic,"

"Why can't you go for Amy?" The speedster stopped as he started to read the room. The tension was squashed when Knuckles uncrossed his arms and let his back slump.

"It's nothing. I'm just being an ass. Just give me the time and date and I'll see if can clear up my schedule for the day,"

"Week," Sonic corrected. The camera was removed from its box and turned on. It was held to his eye as the hero recorded the room very slowly. "Damn it's like I'm on a movie set. I love it! Thanks guys,"

"It was my suggestion," Tikal winked.

Knuckles chuckled. "It definitely was, but I don't know if I can do a week. I got a gym to run,"

"Just close it. It's not like people can't workout at home. It's not a necessity," If only the solution was just that simple.

"And risk losing patrons? I don't know, man. I also got my first client and I'd hate to be gone for that long when we literally just got started,"

"Invite them with us,"

"I thought it was close friends?" Tikal added as she started gathering the dishes and tossing the food out.

"It is but I'll make an exception. I just really want you there, Knux, but I understand if responsibilities come first," Sonic removed his eye from the viewfinder. The camera beeped. It shut off.

Knuckles wanted to help people? He wanted to make a difference? He wanted to be a life coach? Well there was his opportunity. A two for one deal. Fixing whatever was wrong with Sonic was far more important than his gym—well sort of. It would be his last act of heroism before he went back to the normal grind of life, and helping normal issues.

Silver could come alone, maybe if the guy saw an example of someone to look up to he would know where he could be in a year's time. It just all made too much sense. It just all worked so well together. It would be foolish to pass such a chance up.

"You know what, yes. Yes, I'll be there and I'll invite my client too. You'll like him. He's also a hedgehog," Knuckles was hit with more energy than he's had in years. It was like the good old days when he was a guardian to world altering gems. Good times, but he wouldn't miss em.

"Hey! Are you saying just because we're both hedgehogs we'll get along? Because I can name a boatload of enemies that look like me, buddy. In fact I fucking hate hedgehogs. I rather be a fact running vole, or maybe an echidna,"

Tikal giggled again as she got in between the two. "Here Sonic. I noticed your hands are bare," she placed a pair of white gloves next to him. He looked at it and his whole demeanor froze.

Knuckles rolled his eyes at the previous comment. "I hadn't noticed how naked you look without gloves," Sonic's bruised knuckles were also noticed. It should be par for the course for a hero, yet at the moment it just felt wrong.

"I don't need em. Gonna let my scars heal up, Y'know?"