Chapter 16: Hedgehog From Outer Space (II)

Sonic drifted out of sleep, eyes honing in on an unfamiliar wooden couch table where someone had placed a glass and a bottle of water. It took a moment for his sluggish mind to catch up as he took in his new surroundings.

He was at Allan's place.

The room was small. Smaller than Jen's apartment, anyway. The house itself looked a little less modern, too—as far as Sonic could tell—, but Allan clearly made up for it with far more efficient furnishing. There was no bed in sight (only a TV on a shelf across) but a door and corridor to its left suggested there was a bit more to the place than what Sonic saw at the moment.

Allan had his back to him, sitting to the right in front of a computer and wearing a large pair of headphones. The table and the surrounding floor were covered in neatly arranged paperwork, creating the most orderly mess Sonic had seen in a while. Barely any light came through the windows' drawn curtains behind the desk, but it was enough to tell that it was still daytime and that they were apparently at ground level.

Sonic scoffed. He could've gotten in here on a broken leg.

But at least he was out of that stupid bag. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd woken up still inside—zippers closed. Allan wasn't that bad, of course, but sometimes…

Sonic untangled himself from the blanket and sat up, blood rushing to his legs. He felt as if someone had stuffed him with cotton, but apparently that was what you got for falling asleep on a sunny roof and waking up again covered in snow…

He rubbed his eyes and kicked off his shoes, then poured himself a glass of water.

Allan took a peek over his shoulder, then turned in his chair, sliding the headphones off so that they hung around his neck. He looked as if he had to brace himself before stating the obvious: "You're awake."

"…Something like that," Sonic said, pushing himself back into the couch's backrest, balancing the glass of water in his hand.

"You could've said something."

Sonic shrugged. "You looked busy."

Allan regarded the notes on the floor for a moment, then nodded to himself. "I'll look busy for a bit longer then." He gave a push with his foot, causing the chair to spin, then reached for his headphones only to pause and face Sonic again. He seemed to have an inner debate.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good." Sonic took a sip. "What're you doing?" he added.

Allan looked taken aback for a moment, then he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"So?" Sonic shrugged.

He gave Sonic a long look, then put his headphones down again and leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "Well… I'm working on my doctoral thesis in biochemistry. I've been trying to figure out the genetic disposition for—," he waved a hand. "—let's call it a disease. Obviously, I want to get to the point where I can start researching basic approaches for treatment, but there are still a lot of things to learn about the way it causes certain reactions inside the body, and most of the tests I've run so far have only revealed stuff that doesn't work—which is worth documenting on its own, of course, but not exactly substantial enough to—"

It was at about this point Sonic began to zone out. He hadn't genuinely expected to grasp anything of what Allan was still rambling about (especially when he didn't even understand half of the words the guy used), but he did have a bit of experience with enduring long sciency talks—or rather 'technobabble' in his case—and he'd often managed to actually be useful simply by being the 'wall' to talk at—even if it generally meant dodging a couple of 'were you even listening?'s afterwards.

#

Allan fell silent. The hedgehog's gaze had gradually grown distant, and Allan had realized sentences ago that explaining his research to a sentient but not particularly academic being was a rather futile endeavor, no matter how generic he tried to keep it. All that talking, however, had given him a couple of ideas. Hadn't the structure of that enzyme looked a bit off in that one result? Damn, he had to jot that down.

When he looked up from his notes, Sonic still seemed absorbed in thought. He had a faint smile on his lips, though.

"What're you smiling about?" Allan asked, already mentally scolding himself for potentially wrapping himself up in conversation—if talks with Sonic could be called that, anyway. Up to this point Allan wasn't sure if the hedgehog could stay on topic for more than two sentences; and, unlike Jen, he didn't feel patient enough to find out otherwise.

Sonic's smile turned into a grin—the kind of grin that might've been entirely genuine but still came off as just a bit cheeky. Maybe it was the teeth. "Just reminded me of someone," Sonic said, still looking amused. "Hope he's doing fine without me."

Allan was about to inquire, then remembered something Jen had monologued about. What was the name again?

"It's Tails, …right?" Ha. Sometimes he did listen. Now he also recalled her talking about this 'Tails' resembling a fox or somesuch. The idea of Sonic's planet being shared by multiple sentient species had admittedly sparked his interest that day. But most of the time he had enough of the subject before they even started.

He regularly felt like an ass when his first instinct was to disapprove of everything. But seeing Jen pour so much of her time and money into housing this… this hedgehog, along with the risk of being discovered at some point? It just didn't sit well with him. She had about as much work on her hands with her final thesis as he had—albeit on a different scope—and he just couldn't stand seeing her being so royally distracted all the time.

Sonic chuckled. "His name's Miles, actually. But 'Tails' sounds perfect. I'll tell him when I get back."

"When you get back? That sounds awfully confident."

"It'll happen, or it won't." Sonic shrugged, not seeming particularly fazed.

Right. It wasn't enough that Jen had to deal with Sonic's presence. Sonic also appeared to be perfectly nonchalant about everything. For all Allan knew, Sonic was stuck on an alien planet. Being virtually indifferent about his situation could hardly be considered appropriate behavior.

Of course, Jen kept trying to assure him that Sonic was supposedly very mature for his age, but there was never a situation that had managed to convince him. Plus, much to Jen's trouble, Sonic also didn't seem to put in any effort to change Allan's impression whenever it came up. It was nothing short of infuriating. If Allan hadn't seen Jen's mother enter the door today, and if Sonic weren't sitting here on his couch with a genuine cold (and no pants on, again), he was sure Jen would've eventually come up with a plot to lock them both up in a room together, forcing them to interact. Somewhere in the back of his mind Allan knew it was more than overdue, but he would've liked some time to prepare. Now he had to waste a perfectly good day of research doing shallow conversation.

He braced himself, trying to pick up where they'd left. "So… this friend of yours is good with machines, I heard?" Allan said.

Sonic looked at him. "Hey, so you do listen," he said, sounding strangely excited. "Jen always thinks she can't talk to you. I gotta tell her som—" He faltered, coughing for a couple of seconds, then drank half of the glass's contents. »Damn,« Sonic mumbled, wiping his lips.

Allan cringed. It was one thing to recognize his own flaws, but to hear that Jen complained about him to Sonic? Ouch. He had to get to Jen about this before Sonic did.

"Anyway," Sonic said before Allan could find a response. "He's better with computers and machines and stuff than anyone I know. I think Jen called him a—" he paused, apparently searching for the word. "A child prodigy? Kinda forgot what that means, though…"

"It means he has exceptional skills for his age," Allan said automatically.

"Oh, yeah, that sounds about right."

"Really? What does he do, exactly?" Allan asked, mentally frowning at himself. A part of him still wanted to tell Sonic to leave him alone until he'd finished today's portion of writing, another part, however, apparently wanted to quit with his idiot inner debates and finally staunch his curiosity.

"He mostly repairs things for others," Sonic said. "Tries to figure out how they work and such." He paused for a moment, thinking, then smiled. "He's doing all sorts of crazy stuff to my father's old plane, though."

Allan wasn't sure which of the two he found more strange—Sonic mentioning a father, or Sonic mentioning a plane of all things.

Even though Allan technically knew that their planet had to be just as advanced and developed as Earth was, his mind always defaulted to imagining some kind of one-with-nature, Ewok-style society—right up until the point when he tried to picture Sonic strolling through the woods, equipped with a small satchel and picking mushrooms or something. Because at pretty much exactly that point said Sonic got annoyed, grabbed a phone and started ordering takeout.

"…Is it common to own a plane where you come from?" Allan asked.

"Not really… My father was a pilot. He kept the old plane as a hobby, I guess." Sonic drank the rest of his water, then sat up straight and poured himself another glass. "Thanks, by the way," he said, before sitting back again, cross-legged, blanket draped around his torso.

"…No problem," Allan said, struggling and failing to picture a uniformed dad-version of Sonic inside the cockpit of a modern-day passenger plane.

"Do you think your parents know where you are now?"

"Nah." Sonic grinned, gaze growing distant. "Unless… maybe ghosts can fly through space—then they know." He seemed to like the idea.

Allan blinked. This was clearly not the answer he had expected and it took all his effort not to stammer out a bewildered, 'they're dead!?', the moment Sonic's words cut through. Sonic didn't seem all too troubled by the fact.

"May I know what happened?" Allan asked carefully.

Sonic gave him a long look, face growing properly serious after all. Allan wasn't sure whether it was because he'd breached an uncomfortable topic, or whether Sonic just had to parse the question before answering. The look slid off before Allan could regret having asked.

"I'm from an island," Sonic said. "When I was a kid my parents wanted to visit friends on—ah, what d'you call it? Across the sea? Like, not an island but larger?"

Allan frowned. What now? Oh, language. "…The continent?" he tried. "Mainland?"

Sonic thought for a moment, then nodded to himself. "Yeah…, so, we took a boat across." He paused. "I mean, not just the three of us. A large boat, lots of people."

"A ferry?" Allan suggested, not really sure if he was of any help. How was Sonic supposed to know whether he'd picked the right word, anyway? Unlike Jen, he had no idea how to go about this. "It's a passenger boat. For people. Always going the same routes," he added to be sure.

"Sounds good. Yeah. Well, halfway across there was a—" He broke off again, groaning and muttering something in his own language. He frowned, wiggling his fingers in search for words. Allan couldn't help but frown again as well. Sonic had handled most daily exchanges remarkably well recently, so Allan hadn't thought much about how he talked to him. Apparently, though, there were a lot more gaps than he'd anticipated.

"Describe," Allan said slowly, although he had an idea where this was going.

Sonic set the glass back on the table, forming a fist. "There was a— well, something under water." He planted his fist into the palm of his other hand, then spread both hands out like… an explosion? No, that didn't seem right. Sonic looked at Allan somewhat at a loss, then tried again, this time holding his hands palms down and moving them parallel to each other. »Man, how am I supposed to describe an earthquake?« he said, letting his hands drop into his lap again.

Allan unconsciously imitated Sonic's gestures, then faced his computer for a quick web search. After a few attempts he found an animation depicting the formation of a tsunami.

"This?" Allan asked, pointing and moving aside for Sonic to see. He briefly explained what it was called.

"…Yeah, that's it," Sonic said, slightly mesmerized. "The boat, well, ferry, got turned over just like that. I don't remember how I made it out, but most didn't." He shrugged.

He shrugged.

Clearly a perfectly adequate response to an accident with numerous casualties.

"Do you take anything that happens to you seriously?" Allan blurted. It hadn't been the best moment. But the question had been at the tip of his tongue ever since Jen had first thought it was necessary to worry about Sonic.

Sonic's face darkened, surprisingly. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about." Allan lifted a finger starting to count his points. "You are completely unimpressed by the fact that you're stranded on an alien planet. You don't care that you're not making any progress getting back. You're using Jen's place as if it's a hotel to you: You use her shower, you eat her food, you sleep on her couch—all the while coming and going as you please. Sure, you stay away when she wants you to, but you never return on plan, so she spends her time needlessly worrying about you and is too distracted to do anything productive—nevermind that she's taking a big risk housing you. And now you're telling me that your parents died and all you do is shrug. What the hell?"

Sonic bristled (quite literally, disconcertingly). He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, jaw clenching and looking away. "I know that," he said.

"Really? Which one? Because I don't see you act on any of those points."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Sonic glared at him. "Should I whine all day? That doesn't get anything done either and then everyone else feels bad, too."

…Wait, had he just admitted—

"—And I know Jen's busy," Sonic continued. "I keep away when she doesn't need me so she has some space."

"Well, that obviously isn't going too well," Allan said.

Sonic narrowed his eyes.

"And what exactly does Jen need you for, anyway?" Allan asked, crossing his arms.

Sonic crossed his as well, holding Allan's gaze for a moment. Then he gestured vaguely at the notes on the floor. "It's for her th— thing." He said.

"Thesis?" Allan asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Sonic said, seemingly deflating. He looked thoroughly exhausted by now. "She said something about learning by imm—" He broke off with a groan. »Well, whatever it is, I'm obviously crappy at it.«

"Immersion…?" Allan said, brows now crumpled in earnest. "You're serious?"

"Eh, about half the time, usually," Sonic assumed.

Allan had a sudden impulse to strangle the kid. Instead, he forced himself to do the sane thing and leaned back in his chair rubbing his face. Jen was incorporating Sonic into her final thesis. Go figure. Couldn't she just have told him that? Midway shifting topics was a bit risky, but if she could mask it enough it didn't even sound like such a bad idea…

...But she probably thought he'd instantly disapprove of it.

Allan suppressed a groan. Did it count as progress that at least Sonic appeared to be mildly aware of his behavior towards Jen? Allan really needed a lot more patience when it came to talking about all of this stuff in general. He sat up straight again, adjusting his glasses.

"Does Jen know about your parents?" he asked. Sonic's lack of vocabulary on the matter had been a bit odd.

"…No," he said, now apparently thinking on the question himself. He drew the blanket around his shoulders again.

Interesting. She always appeared as if she knew practically everything about the guy. "Did it just never come up, or…?"

"She's… I dunno. She sometimes just stops asking. Like, she wants to, but doesn't. I think she thinks I'll get sad talking about home or something. It's weird."

"Do you?" Allan asked automatically. He wasn't earning points in subtlety today.

Sonic gave him an odd look, then grinned weakly. "Nah, I just wanna punch myself every morning for ending up here in the first place."

Allan snorted. Figures.

"I'm sorry," Allan said after a moment. "For your parents, I mean."

Sonic shrugged (again…) "'S not your fault."

Allan hesitated. "…I know. It's just something you say as a way of showing sympathy. What would you say instead?"

He seemed to contemplate. "Something like 'stay strong' or 'it'll pass', I guess."

Allan laughed. "I hope the latter is a case of bad translation."

For a brief moment Allan understood where Jen could've gotten the idea to avoid 'personal' topics with Sonic in the first place. But even if Sonic had put up a solid enough front of nonchalance to drive Allan on the verge of insanity, the things behind it seemed hardly fragile. Besides, it was usually better to be upfront about something once than to dance around a topic dozens of times.

…It would also be nice if he could manage to remember that last part slightly more often.

Allan rose to his feet, lightly slapping his thighs, then he untangled himself from his headphones. "I'll get us some food." He paused. "Unless you're not hungry." For whatever obscure reason.

Sonic seemed to think on the idea significantly longer than usual, a hint of a grimace on his face. "I'll give it a try," he said.

#

Sonic slid against the couch's backrest, digging himself chin-deep into the blanket. Behind the curtained windows he could still see snow swirling in the light of the inner yard lamps. It looked like he was going to stay for a while.

All that talk about his parents had put him into a strange mood—not bad enough to avoid talking about it altogether like Jen would've done, but it was still kind of annoying. He wasn't even thinking about his actual parents right now. His memory of them was so fuzzy, he barely felt anything when thinking about them aside from a vague kind of nostalgia when something happened to remind him of South Island or something. No, he was thinking about the guys that took him in—the ones his parents had wanted to visit in the first place. He'd mostly been… kind of a prick towards them, and even then they'd never really held it against him. It wasn't that he'd been ungrateful or something, heck, he liked the guys, really; he'd just been… difficult. First when he was still a kid and had to adjust to the new situation, and then after he found out the nature of his Flow and started to explore the numerous ways you could get into trouble by being really, really fast.

But even before he'd always had a tendency to run off to whatever he thought was interesting. Only, his idea of 'run off' wasn't a case of, 'Oh, ice cream', it was, 'Hmm, I could take a hike to Red Gate Bay after school'. Then he'd get there by night, tired to his bones, and fall asleep on a park bench or a terrace or something, only to get carried back home by a frickin' official the next morning. The thing was, it was never on his mind to run away. He just wanted to go explore on his own terms, not within, say, the confines of a family vacation. If they'd just waited half a day longer, he'd have returned by himself and everything would've been fine. …Things got a lot easier once 'a hike' meant they'd have to go find him on the other side of the continent.

…For him, anyway.

Despite all that, the two had managed to be more patient with him in a week than he'd been in all in his life, always making a point of welcoming him back instead of scolding him for it. But he didn't need to be a psychic to tell it had been grating on them. Finally clearing things up was a thing he'd always had in the back of his mind, but so far he'd always managed to postpone this sort of talk to another day, even when it was actually a good moment. If coming back home wasn't going to be enough for him to finally address the thing, then nothing was.

Ultimately though, it was still something that could wait. Miles on the other hand…

If Sonic's sense of time wasn't completely out of whack, it was about three months to go until the kid's birthday. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he missed the date—there'd always be a next one—but Miles was at an age when most kids had a rapid change in eye-color, which in turn was usually also the time when they, or their friends and family, decided on a new name other than their birth name. It wasn't the most ceremonial thing—at least not on Westside Island—but it was still an important day in one's life. …And, since the thing usually took place at school, unfortunately also a day with a high chance of ridicule. It clearly wasn't something he'd wanted Miles to take on alone, but unless Sonic got extremely lucky with a Star Post again sometime soon, there was nothing he could really do about it…

Somewhere inside the heap of noodles that was the current state of his brain, Sonic became aware of the clinking of kitchen utensils. Should he have offered some help? …Nah. He had a feeling Allan would rather burn down his kitchen than let him in with him.

…Okay, maybe the guy wasn't that bad.

But Sonic could never really figure out what his problem was. It had to do with him staying at Jen's place, alright. That much was obvious. But Allan couldn't just bug her about it all day without doing anything. Sonic wasn't proud of his situation, but what choice did he have? If Jen couldn't let him stay anymore, he'd understand. But it would mean he had to find another semi-permanent place to stay. Sonic was fine being called a vagabond, but that didn't mean he was the living-off-the-land-like-a-hermit kind of guy. And this planet surely wouldn't make him into one, either…

#

Allan made his way back into the living room, juggling a steaming bowl, a spoon, and a loaf of bread in each hand. He awkwardly placed one set on the table before Sonic, then sat down in his swivel chair, cradling his own bowl in one hand. The hedgehog had looked absent when Allan came back into the room, but the bowl of food had stirred him up again.

"It's goulash," Allan said. "Nothing fancy. I just sometimes make a whole bowl then heat it up bit by bit when I'm too lazy to cook and just want to study. …Which you probably didn't want to know. Anyway, I think I made it too spicy. But according to Jen you don't mind. So… good luck."

Sonic picked up his spoon, prodding at the stew before taking a bite and slowly chewing it. Apparently Jen had been right about Sonic having no appetite. Or this simply wasn't the kind of 'cuisine' Sonic was used to. But getting into a questionnaire about food was one of the many things not on Allan's schedule today. They ate in silence for a while.

"What's your problem anyway?" Sonic asked somewhere during the second half of his bowl. He seemed to be eating at a somewhat normal pace now.

"…What?" Allan asked, shifting a steaming piece of meat between his teeth.

"I mean, what's up with you? Why are you so—" Sonic gestured, apparently looking for the right word, but Allan had enough of an idea.

"If you haven't figured that out by now, I don't know what to say."

Sonic rolled his eyes. "I don't think Jen's gonna get in trouble because of me," he said. "D'you think I wanna mess this up? I like staying with her. I'm careful when I leave her place, and I never talk to anyone about you or her."

Allan frowned. That was nice to know, but… all of those points should've gone without saying. A few moments ago he thought he was getting somewhere, but now he felt suspicious for some reason. "…You talk to people? …You mean that kid in the mountains?" he asked hesitantly.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. He, too."

Allan kind of had a bad feeling now. "Who else?"

Sonic thought for a moment, swallowing a bite. "…Like, a few weeks ago I found this boy tied to a tree somewhere in the woods. I dunno what happened—guess some kids left him there or something. I, uh, did him loose, of course, then we walked back to his house. He thought I could be his friend, but then he said I'd probably leave before his parents could see me, because that's what always happens in movies. Heh." Sonic rubbed his nose, apparently gradually gaining energy from his meal.

"…So you left?"

"Huh? No, they invited me for dinner."

Allan almost choked. "Are you shitting me?!"

"…I think that doesn't mean what it means, but 'no' in both cases."

Allan groaned. "Where was that?"

"Somewhere southeast. I'd been running for half an hour or so, so nowhere close."

"If you want to be reassuring, that's not the way to do it."

"Jeez, dude. Cut me some slack. Not everyone can stay put in their room all day."

Allan stuck his spoon into the rest of his food, having a brief stare-down with Sonic and a sudden urge to get up and call Jen to 'take her hedgehog back'. But thinking of her made the feeling dissolve again and Allan suddenly wasn't so sure anymore whether Sonic's jab had really been an insult or actually a compliment. Allan couldn't see Sonic ever get any science work done after all…

He pinched the bridge of his nose while awkwardly lifting his glasses, then sighed. "What does she see in you, anyway?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Sonic scratched his head, apparently thinking about it. "You know. I think she said I make her excited about everything. That was nice."

Allan let out a dry laugh. "Oh great. And I bet I'm the one that makes her decidedly un-excited about everything. Beautiful."

"No, you make her want to be the best Jen she can be," Sonic said without hesitation, then proceeded to eat as if he'd said nothing special. He was either the most cunning or the most innocent individual on this planet right now, and Allan couldn't help but feel touched, even if this one sentence had probably only been a result of quick thinking on Sonic's part. It was infuriating how fast Sonic managed to go from downright irritating to insightful.

"Do you know I want Jen to kick you out as soon as the winter is over?" he asked.

Sonic hummed in affirmation, pouring down the rest of his food. "'S only fair, I guess." He wiped his mouth. "I'll find someone else to stay with. And who knows, maybe we can all hang out at some point." He smiled, then briefly eyed the empty bowl on the table. "This stuff was good by the way."

"…Thanks," Allan mumbled, suppressing a sigh. He was glad for the reasonable response, but for some reason he now also felt a touch insulted for being so easily replaceable. Heck, couldn't this situation be a little less…. ambiguous?

"There's still some left," he offered instead.

Sonic cocked his head, one finger scratching at his ear. "I'm not gonna say no," he said.

Allan nodded. He got up, picked up both bowls and headed for the kitchen, tip-toeing across his notes on the floor. The phone rang, and he somehow managed to scoop up the handset on the way. In the kitchen, he checked the number. It was Jen.

"Hey, Jen. What's up?" he said, closing the door.

"Just checking whether you're still alive."

"Ha. Ha."

She giggled. "No. Seriously. My mom's left. I can come fetch him now. Just a heads up."

"You don't have to go out. We're good."

Allan could practically hear her eyebrow arching through the line.

"…Yes, I know it's unbelievable. But I manage to get along with your freak. I'll survive for a while longer."

She hummed in amusement.

"What?"

"I'm trying not to do it."

"…What."

"Say, 'I told you so.'" He could hear her grin.

"Oh shut up!" Allan failed to suppress a laugh.

"I'm glad," she said after a pause.

"…Me too. Sort of. It doesn't change my idea about spring, though."

"I know. It's okay."

"…Jen?"

"Hm?"

"Did you say something about wanting to be 'the best version of yourself' around me?" Allan licked his lips.

Jen laughed. "I think I did, yeah. How did you end up talking about that?"

"Doesn't matter. But… thanks, and no pressure. Let's talk tomorrow, alright?"

"…Sure. Until then."

They hung up and Allan poured Sonic another, slightly smaller portion. When he returned from the kitchen, his gaze fell on his work notes laid out on top and all around his desk. He felt a sudden need to grow a beard only so he could stroke it thoughtfully in situations like this.

"I have two questions for you," he said. Sonic perked up from a semi-doze. "One: Could I take a tiny sample of your blood at some point? And Two: Have you ever seen Star Wars?"