Hey!

I'm not too sure if there's even a lot of interest in this story. I've certainly been enjoying writing it, but if no one is enjoying reading this story it feels silly to keep updating it. I may upload the next few chapters, but if there's no interest I'll stop.

There's a little more jumping around in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it.

-Fortune

Chapter Four

Maurice sighed as he sat down at the table in the kitchen. His uncle had called in to work and taken the rest of the day off, despite how much he had tried to protest. Now he felt three times worse than he had before. He folded his arms on the smooth wood of the table and leaned his chin on them, relishing in the cool feeling of it against his fur. His bag had been discarded by the door, if his uncle was bothered by it he didn't say anything. They'd already had an argument on the way out of school about him having to stay home tomorrow. Maurice had only agreed after his uncle promised not to take time off from work tomorrow for him. He could look after himself.

His uncle leaned against the doorway, "You alright?"

"Yeah Unc, I'm fine." He mumbled into his arms.

Truthfully, he was beyond furious with himself. One lesson in, and he had a panic attack? How was he supposed to live that one down? And his new friends… what did they think of him now? He wasn't too bothered by what the other students thought, at least, that's what he told himself, but he couldn't bear to think that his little episode in History might have just cost him two new, very nice friends.

'They probably won't want to hang around with the kid who had a bloody breakdown on the first day.' He thought bitterly, fighting back a shudder at his brain's poor use of adjective.

He didn't even realise that he had let his anger show on his face until the older hedgehog looked at him funny. He quickly corrected his expression and gave his uncle a smile.

"I'm fine, really. I think I just need to clear my head." He assured his uncle, hoping to at least get some time to himself.

His uncle frowned but nodded, "I know you're probably itching to go for a run," He sat down across from Maurice, "but Sonny-boy, I'm always here to listen if you need me, you know that, right?"

"I know, Unc," He reached his hand across the table to hold the other's hand reassuringly, "I know. But there's some things I'd rather… deal with, myself, you know?"

"I understand, you always were an independent kid. You prefer to handle things on your own, but don't forget that whether I'm at work or not, you can always call me." His uncle sighed in defeat.

Maurice stood up and turned to leave, "Just don't take too much time off work for me, ok Unc?"

"No promises." Charles chuckled, "Oh, and Sonic,"

Maurice paused and turned to face him, taken aback by the sudden address with his old nickname, "Y-yeah, Unc?"

The light blue hedgehog smiled, "Be back by eight."

Maurice was a lot chirpier after he left the house. His uncle always knew what to say to lift his spirits. It had been a while since he'd heard that name… Sonic. It just felt right. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed that name until his uncle brought it up. It made him feel more like himself, more significant.

As he was about to full on sprint into the city, he stopped himself. The people here didn't know him. He knew he could reach insane speeds that no other mobian could, he knew he wasn't normal. Would he freak them out? Should he risk it? Maurice frowned. He'd never had to think about it before; everyone in Robotropolis was used to seeing the tell-tale signs of his presence when he was running, but the people here were not. He also was not too keen on bringing attention to himself and zipping around the city leaving a blue trail in his wake might just rouse some interest. He'd have to be careful from now on… he didn't like it.

Mood ruined, somewhat, he decided to jog until he was on the outskirts of the city. Once he hit the forest just outside the city, he knew he'd be free to go whatever speed he liked. He made a mental note not to break the sound barrier though. It would also be an excuse to explore since he hadn't had time to yet.

Gradually, stone pavement became dirt pathways beneath his feet. He sped up, starting off at a light sprint, still visible to the eye and not too fast in case he could still be seen from the city. Then, once he was sure he was far enough, his feet became a blur. He sidestepped to avoid any and all trees that stood in his way, weaving a path through the woods. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump of his feet against the ground was such a familiar and welcoming sound. He felt his quills lie a little flatter against his head, a sure sign that he was relaxing.

It had been a while since he'd been allowed to properly run, what with the whole moving-to-another-city thing. Between the actual move, helping out his uncle, and the worry of drawing attention to himself, it had been a good while since he'd been able to stretch his legs. It was freeing, feeling the wind whip around him.

When he was a good distance, he briefly paused to take in his environment. He did love running, but half the reason he was here was to explore after all. He thought back to the questions he had asked himself earlier that day. The wind, the flowers, the flickies… were they the same, or different? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, angling his ears to catch any sounds around him. He picked up the chirping of a flicky close by. He grinned. They did sound different here! He opened his eyes and shifted his ears in order to determine exactly where the sound was coming from.

There!

Among the branches of the trees to his left he could see the small blue body of a flicky. It stopped chirping, noticing him staring at it. He smiled and gave a soft, friendly wave to the little bird but the flicky fluffed out its feathers and flew away into the branches. Maurice's smile faltered. He had to remind himself that he shouldn't take it personally; the flickies here didn't know him. He shook his head to try and rid himself of the disappointment.

He continued on, trying to ignore the pang of sorrow that came with the reminder that this place was way different than he was used to. This place wasn't home.

He got back to the house about… an hour later than he should have. His uncle was waiting by the door when he walked into the house.

"Sorry, unc." He smiled sheepishly, "Haven't been able to properly explore yet, got carried away…"

His uncle shook his head, walking over to ruffle his nephew's quills affectionately, "I figured. Just try not to let it happen again." He chuckled.

"I won't," he wrapped his arms around his uncle, "promise."

His uncle returned the hug warmly. They stayed like that for a few moments, uncle and nephew enjoying the moment of silence the embrace provided. Maurice listened to the steady beat of his uncle's heart, not unlike the rhythm of his feet just… slower. Much slower. It was soothing in a different way to running. The sound kept him grounded. He took a deep breath and let his own heart slow for once. Once he finally felt as calm as he was when he started his run earlier, he released his uncle and stepped away.

His uncle smiled, "You seem a lot better."

"I am." He chirped in response, clasping his hands behind his back.

For the first time in the last two months, he did feel better, if just slightly. He felt more… himself. There was no telling how long it would last though, so he thought he might as well breathe and enjoy it.

His uncle turned to the kitchen, "I'm going to put on the hotdogs."

"Hotdogs?" Blue ears perked up.

He grinned knowingly at his nephew, "I thought maybe you'd enjoy some chilli dogs tonight? The chilli's almost done already."

"I thought I smelled heaven when I walked through the door!" Maurice chuckled.

Later that night he found himself staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep, but that was a fairly common occurrence these days. Still didn't mean he wasn't bothered by it though. His uncle didn't even know. Maurice didn't want to bother him; his uncle didn't need to be worrying over something so trivial. He never told him back in Robotropolis out of fear of him losing focus on the war, and he hadn't told him here because… well, he just didn't want to.

Growling as quietly as he could, he turned onto his side and glared at the clock on the nightstand. The numbers glowed a soft green in the darkness of his room.

2:17.

He sighed. At least he didn't have to do anything tomorrow. That made his frown deepen. He should be doing something tomorrow. Burying his face in his pillow, he tried to forget about it but it kept coming back up in his mind. Wasn't that something so amazingly stupid? How your brain loved to remind you of the things you wanted to forget or ignore? Like, for example, how you had a panic attack in the middle of your first class at a new school and you had to be sent home early and skip school the following day because your brain brought up things you wanted to forget.

He grabbed his pillow in frustration and covered his head with it. Maybe if he blocked out the light of the digital clock on his nightstand he could fall asleep? It was silly to hope that it would even make a difference, but at this point he didn't care.

Predictably, it wasn't working.

Shoving his pillow and red blanket away, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His socks met the carpet and he was glad for it. It didn't squeak and creak like the old floorboards of their home in Knothole; a lot easier to sneak around. There were also way more rooms and stairs in this house, massive compared to their old, humble, one-room-hut. Honestly, he did miss the simple home, but he had to admit that their new home had its perks.

As he crept down the stairs gingerly, he kept one ear perked in the direction of his uncle's room. Years of caution kept his body tensed but his steps soundless and light. He was fairly confident that he wouldn't wake his uncle. Still, it was always good to be sure.

He spent the next few hours pacing from room to room downstairs. He was surprised he hadn't worn a trench through the floor yet. He had too much energy to go back upstairs, the sun would be rising soon anyway. He stopped pacing for a moment, ending up by the door to the front room.

Leaning against the frame, he took in the room from where he was. Despite the low-light, he could just make out the outlines of the settee, television and coffee table. That was partly how he hadn't walked into anything yet. Maurice had kept the lights off, but his eyes were trained enough to pick out the objects in each room. He slunk over to the settee and let his body fall into the plush cushions. It felt… wrong somehow, but he couldn't deny he enjoyed the softness. In a moment of weakness, he allowed himself to curl into the cushions.

After what seemed to Maurice like an oddly long blink, he opened his eyes to a bright room and the lingering smell of bacon. He blinked. What happened?

He heard footsteps approaching and spun in place in his seat. His uncle was standing in the doorway, smiling.

"You came downstairs early this morning. Too early by the looks of it." The lighter blue hedgehog shook his head, "What time did you wake up? The first time I mean." His uncle added with a smirk.

"Early enough to beat you." Maurice smirked back, answering vaguely enough to divert the question but also imply he didn't need to worry.

"Well, I'm about to head off to work. There's some breakfast on the table in the kitchen for you. Anything else you need before I go?"

He shook his head, hopping to his feet, "Nope."

"Ok, I'll be off then." He ruffled his nephew's quills, "See you later."

"Okie-dokie, bye Unc." Maurice wasted no time, he was already at the table, half a bacon butty in his hand.

"Oh, and Maurice?" His uncle called form the hallway.

He paused, mouth open, sandwich millimetres from his face, "Yeah, Unc?"

"I might be home a little late tonight. I left some cash on the counter, order whatever you want for tea."

'Pizza!'

"Ok, thanks Unc!" Maurice called, hearing the door close a few moment later.

He stared at the empty plate, willing more bacon into existence. It wasn't working. It hadn't been working for the last hour either.

'Boo.' He pushed the plate away and leaned on his folded arms.

What was he supposed to do now? There was no bacon left, he had nothing to do and he was starting to get this odd, foreign feeling. He could go for a run, but he wasn't feeling it for once. His disappointment with the flicky yesterday had left a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of going back to that wood. He scowled. Never mind, he didn't want bacon anymore… And he couldn't exactly run how he wanted in the city.

His chair shrieked against the tiled floor. What to do, what to do…

He always seemed busy when he was in Knothole. There was always something to do. But here, there was nothing. As he thought, he kept his body active by pacing. Pacing was not new to him, he'd been doing it for years now, but this kind of pacing was. It used to be worried pacing, panicked pacing, fearful pacing. But this? This was indecisive pacing, this was nothing-to-do pacing, this was… this was boredom.

That's what it was: boredom! That was this foreign feeling. Boredom wasn't something you got in Knothole, in Robotropolis. There, you would get antsy in anticipation, not boredom. He didn't know how to deal with boredom. The only solution he could find was to run, but that was already off the table. He was slowly learning that boredom led to frustration.

He growled and started to scour the house. He needed to find a distraction. TV? No, he really didn't know how people could sit and watch these things. Reading? Well… he was surprisingly fond of reading, but it wasn't an active thing. Reading, he found, was something to do to unwind before you went to bed or to block out the world around you. That's not exactly what he needed right now. He needed something to do that would keep him active. He found some paper upstairs and thought of only two things – writing or drawing. Both of which, like reading, required sitting still for extended periods of time. Excellent for relaxing, perfect for a hyperactive mind, not helpful in the need-to-move mood he was in. He continued to pace. The only idea that kept coming up was running.

He sighed. He better not have another panic attack in school. Maurice didn't know how many of these stay-at-home-alone days his mind could take. He'd only been alone for, what, two hours now? He was already losing his mind.

Maybe he could go further out, away from the city…?

He dashed for the door, grabbing the spare key on the way out. He paused outside only to turn the key in the lock then he stashed it in his quills and began to jog, maybe a bit too fast, for the outskirts of the city, in the opposite direction of the school and the woods.

He was a fair distance from the city now. He could still see the buildings from the tree he was lying in, but they were tiny against the horizon. As he watched the sun set, marvelling at the orangey-pink colours it painted across the sky, he relaxed. He'd been out for hours, but he already knew he wouldn't have to worry about making his way back yet – his uncle was still at work.

The landscape out here was beautiful. The long grass danced in the light breeze. All around him, the flowers were just starting to close, getting ready to sleep out the long night until they could greet the sun again with their spectacular colours. Tall trees were spaced out across the meadow, few but mighty. Their branches were reaching for the clouds, green leaves swaying softly. The young hedgehog watched the sky as auburn gave out to navy blue, searching for the first stars that winked down at the planet from their galactic web of space.

Leaning against the tree trunk, one leg hanging down from the thick branch he'd picked as his perch, he closed his eyes and breathed in the clean, cool air.

His ear twitched as he heard a familiar, high-pitched beeping. Emerald eyes opened to a startling darkness. Did he fall asleep? Moving the cuff of his glove, he looked down at his old communicator, wrapped tightly against his wrist. He wore it now out of habit more than necessity. It also meant he didn't need to go buy a phone or anything for his uncle to contact him. Staring at the call screen, glowing a dim blue, he folded his ears back slightly. Above the words Uncle Chuck flashing on the screen was a small digital clock, the numbers reading 21:47. He had fallen asleep.

Letting out a breath, he tapped the answer button on the screen.

"Maurice? Where are you? Haven't you seen the time?" His uncle's face stared at him through the screen, a worried frown etched on his features.

He felt guilty. He hadn't meant to make him fret. He hadn't meant to fall asleep out here either.

"I…" He sighed, "No, I didn't see the time until now, Unc, I'm sorry. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He reached to end the call when the older hedgehog asked again, "Where are you?"

"Just outside the city. I'll be back in a few minutes."

His uncle's frown didn't go away and Maurice knew he'd disappointed him. Regretfully, he hung up the call and jumped down from the tree. Using the light from the city as his guide, he sprinted until everything around him blurred away into dark blue and black smears at the edges of his vision. He knew he wouldn't be able to run very fast through the city, so he had to make up time by running close to top speed now. In roughly a minute he reached the city's edge. From there, he quickly decelerated into a sort-of-normal running speed as he ran across the pavements, dodging a couple of people still out late and making his way through the streets until he stopped in front of the house.

The lights were on downstairs in the kitchen. Maurice slowly made his way to the door, his feet growing heavy with every step. Some strange part of him was compelled to open the door quietly as if he was afraid of alerting his uncle, which was ridiculous.

His uncle was sitting in a chair at the table, back to him, "Just yesterday you promised not to come home late again, Maurice."

He winced, he'd never broken a promise before, "I know, I'm really sorry, Unc. I fell asleep. I'm sorry…"

"It's ten to eleven." Maurice could not tell if his uncle was mad or upset, his tone betrayed nothing.

He played with the cuff of his glove, not used to this bizarre toneless voice his uncle was using, "I… I know…"

"Have you eaten?"

"Yeah, I got something to eat in the city earlier." He lied.

"Then why is the money I left you still on the counter?" He asked, turning in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

Maurice looked down, a pit forming in his stomach.

"Did you even eat lunch, Maurice?"

He didn't answer. He hated lying to his uncle. It was better to hold his tongue than to lie. He hadn't eaten since breakfast today. He didn't feel like eating now either. His uncle sighed and Maurice snuck a quick look in his direction. He seemed… sad, disappointed. That was way worse than anger. Maurice wanted him to get angry at him, to yell. Anything was better than his wretched quietness.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered and fled upstairs, he wanted to get away from that heartbreakingly disappointed look on his uncle's face.

He closed his bedroom door, kicked off his shoes, tossed his gloves on the nightstand and let his collapsed onto his bed. He felt like he wanted to cry, but he wouldn't let himself. Crawling under his blanket, he hugged his pillow and curled up into a tight ball. He felt awful.