A/N - I initially released this as a sequel to Five Things... but it didn't sit well. Nobody seemed to know what it was about, nor care to find out, so I've now taken the road I probably should have walked at the beginning and appended these five mini 'conclusions' (although how much they fit this title is entirely upb to you) to the original fic. Hopefully this clears up any bother there was before. The numbers at the head of each correspond to the previous chapter they deal with. All reviews welcomed.

Happy trails, people.


Coda

© Scribbler, (Originally published in) March 2005


1.

"I'm not … entirely sure how this is meant to go."

"You ain't the only one."

"Ain't?"

"Long time since my last elocution lesson, sugar. Cut me some slack, hey?"

They were stood in what had been the House of Rabbot throne room, once upon a time. The only thing reminiscent of that purpose now was a large metal chair, somewhat like a throne, but wide enough to accommodate Robotnik's enormous girth. It stared at them from the centre of a control array, accusing, waiting for a master that would now now never return.

"It's so different," Bunnie murmured, touching one of the cables that streamed from the ceiling. She hadn't even the faintest inkling what it was for.

Knuckles returned the chair's glare and kicked a lifeless conduit on the floor. There was no fear of repercussions, since they had cut power to the entire of Mobotropolis – something they never would have been able to accomplish without the help of Sonic and his emeralds.

"Knuckles?" Bunnie turned to where he had his palms pressed flat against a huge keyboard, forehead resting against an equally huge monitor. Everything seemed dead and damp, choked with lingering sweat and the exhalations of a madman. The only light came from a torch they'd each brought with them.

Knuckles lifted his head and looked at own reflection in the glass. "Just taking a moment." He turned to look at her, eyes perhaps a little overbright. "We did it. We really did it. It's over."

Bunnie thought of the legion of suddenly masterless Robians, the acres of corrupted city, not to mention the far-reaching implications deposing Robotnik would have. His empire was more sprawling than any of them had first thought, and there was no guarantee his generals would cease to operate just because he had.

"No," she said softly. "It's just beginnin'."

"Bunnie?"

"Yes?"

"Can you hold back on the happy act? Okay? Just this once?"

She blinked. Then she smiled – weakly, but it was still a smile. "Give me sumthin' to keep me goin', an' I'll think about it."

In seconds Knuckles had crossed the room, rolled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was quick and hot and fervent, full of all the elation and the apprehension he wasn't able to put into words. When he pulled away her mouth felt quite bruised.

"Deal."


2.

"Uncle Miles, you're being a jerk!"

Tails looked at his godson and goddaughter and drew in his chin. "I think I should feel insulted by that."

"Please don't." Princess Alicia shot her brother a poisonous look. "We just want to know where you're taking us."

"Someplace special."

"Is it the dragons' temple?" It was said with some hope. Alicia loved visiting Dulcy and her kin, and especially liked riding around in the dragoness's pouch.

But Tails shook his head, pulling back slightly on the airpod's control stick. They skimmed smoothly over the tops of the trees and arced into the desert's coffee glow.

Prince Carl's brow knitted. "It better not be anyplace dumb," he threatened.

Alicia threw a grape at his head. She was two years his junior, but already the height difference between them was almost insignificant. Carl responded by sticking his tongue out and kicking the back of her chair.

"Hey," Tails turned in the cockpit, "stop that, or I'll tell your parents you misbehaved." He would do no such thing, but the warning was enough to quieten them down.

At least for a moment.

"Can you at least give us a hint?" Carl pressed.

"Hey," Alicia broke in, "I can see the Knothole watchtower from here!" She pointed out of the enforced-glass window. "See?"

Tails nodded, but continued on his path out towards the badlands. After fifteen minutes he yanked a handle to cut the thrusters and sent them into a controlled descent. "Here we are."

"Where?" Carl asked, disgusted. "We're in the middle of Dead Country. There's nothing interesting here."

The airbrakes kicked in, sending up clouds of fine sand that obscured the landscape around them for a moment. When it had cleared, Tails pressed a button to release the airlock on the door. It hissed and folded out in a ramp for them to walk down.

"Uncle Miles?" said Alicia, the question evident in her voice. They were, it seemed, three miles left of nowhere in nature's equivalent of a giant sandbox. There was nothing but sand and rocks in every direction, with not even a cactus to break the monotony. On the horizon, a greenish-brown smudge that signified the Great Forest, and, beyond it, Neo-Mobotropolis.

"You'll see," was all Tails would reply, ushering them down the ramp. "Now, it should be somewhere around here…"

"What should?" Carl demanded, folding his arms with a petulant noise. "This is so dumb. I could be playing bobstones back at the palace right now."

"You always lose at bobstones anyway," Alicia retorted.

"Only because I let you win!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Kids, pipe down a minute, will you?" having found what he was looking for, Tails pointed a small device that could have doubled as a remote control at a sandbank. It buzzed, a single red diode lighting up on its tips. At once there was an answering beep from the sandbank, and a previously concealed door lifted, revealing a silvery corridor leading underground.

"Wow," Carl exclaimed, impressed and beginning to reconsider his aversion to the trip.

"Is that one of Robotnik's old bunker's?" Alicia asked, quoting from her history lessons and drawing closer to Tails's side. She referred to the hundreds of secure emergency bunkers Robotnik had created in case he ever had to underground for some reason – in this case, literally.

"Yup."

"Cool." Carl went closer. "Well? Aren't we going to go in?" he asked over his shoulder.

"The occupant might like it if we introduced ourselves first."

"Huh?"

"Hello, Tails," whirred a voice.

Carl jumped at the figure that had seemingly appeared from nowhere, which now stood in the mouth of the corridor.

"I see y'all brought me some visitors this time." It was not said unkindly, but her inflection had never been quite right after her vocal receptors were damaged in the final battle against Robotnik. Bunnie twitched her one and half ears the way any Mobian might do, and even though he knew it was only a minor fritzof her systems, Tails felt comforted by the movement. He could even ignore that while he had grown to adulthood, she was trapped in her teenage body, and how she had forgotten to tuck her upload cable behind her skullplate again, because it was just such a Bunnie thing to do.

"Yup," he said, bringing Alicia out from behind him and presenting her to his old friend. "Say hello to Prince Carl and Princess Alicia, of the House of Acorn."

"Sonic and Sally's kids? Well, don't time fly? Last I saw you two, you was ultrasounds or babes in your momma's arms."

Tails pushed them in the smalls of their backs. "Kids, meet Bunnie Rabbot."

"Formerly of the Mobotropolis Secret Service, computer division." Bunnie clicked her heels together with a metallic chink. "Now of the recluse club, at your service."

Alicia and Carl's mouth were so wide they could each easily have garaged an airpod. After all, it wasn't every day you got to meet a living legend – and that was saying something with the parents they had.

Tails's stomach rumbled loudly.

"I think," Bunnie said, "y'all had better come in an' have sumthin' to eat. Provided y'all don't mind freeze-dried foodstuff. Don't got much call for vittles, m'self."

Tails smiled. "That'd be fine, Bunnie."


3.

"Why don't nobody come to see me no more?"

Pretty Blue passed her a buttered cob and broke an unbuttered one for herself. "They're just busy. It's nothing to worry about."

"Oh." She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, and then spat the bread onto the floor.

"What's wrong?" Pretty Blue asked, swallowing her own mouthful. "Didn't you like it?"

"There was a genie inside it. He was cryin' to get out."

Pretty Blue's expression became that blend of grim and sad she'd come to know so well. It had only increased since she and Spiky-Spike came back from visiting the old legends. Pretty Blue had cried a lot after that, and come to see her with puffy eyes and lank hair. She'd even let her hug her, once, though she hadn't returned it, and she hadn't let it happen again.

Pretty Blue took another bite of her own cob, perhaps a little defiantly, and ate the rest so fast that conversation was impossible.

A knock sounded at the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Pretty Blue called back.

The door opened and a small figure with a basket under one arm slipped through, closing it firmly behind her.

"Red Hood!" she exclaimed. She liked Red Hood almost as much as she liked Pretty Blue. Red Hood was warm and kind and brought all sorts of delicious food. She reminded her of sitting in a warm lap and watching an open fire devour pieces of paper, though she couldn't say where the memory came from.

"I brought you some strawberries," Red Hood said, bringing out a handful of washed red fruit that was still slightly damp. She passed two to Pretty Blue, who then passed one to where she sat on the floor, surrounded by her cards. It was a good reading today. She turned over another two while the strawberry was placed in her open palm.

Red Hood sat on the bed. "Any change?" she mouthed.

Pretty Blue shook her head dejectedly, wearily.

Another card. A small frown creased her brow. She stared at it and then up at Pretty Blue and Red Hood, narrowing her eyes in thoughtful concentration. Then, before either of them could stop her, she brought both hands together and squashed the strawberry into a pulpy mess. Juice ran between her fingers, dripping onto the floor and making the cards sticky.

The eyes of the two perched on the bed rounded.

"It was a bad reading," she explained simply. "It's always a bad reading."


4.

They stood on the edge of Rosie's grave and tried not to let each other see their tears.

After a moment, Cream used her sleeve as a handkerchief and bowed her head. Bunnie just kept staring at the simple marker – all they had to remember a creature with enough love in her heart to heal a million cuts and bruises. Rosie had not died in battle, but of old age and a weak heart – quiet and dignified, the same way she had lived.

A bikkerbird flew overhead, calling loudly in its raucous voice.

"You once told me," Cream said after a moment, "that just because you can fight doesn't mean you have to."

"Did I?"

She nodded. "You know, I didn't get it when you told me."

"An' you do now?" She wouldn't be the first creature to have a graveside epiphany.

"Oh, I understood it a long time ago. It just seemed … appropriate to bring it up now."

Bunnie looked sidelong at her, this little girl who wasn't so little anymore. Cream stood taller than her adoptive parent, even with her ears flopped back, and carried with her a kind of gracious benevolence that Bunnie was certain she could never have learned from her.

"Yeah," she replied. "I guess it suits the moment, don't it?"

Cream nodded and knelt to place the flowers on the grave. There were already bunches of them scattered around, positioned in every available spot. The largest was clearly from Sally and Sonic, and was shaped like a giant horseshoe that fitted neatly around the marker. There were flowers there from people who hadn't even known Rosie – creatures who had come back to Mobotropolis after Robotnik was gone. Bunnie was just glad Rosie had lived to see that victory before she went to sleep one night and just … didn't wake up again.

They stood by the grave for a good few minutes more, saying nothing, comfortable in each other's company.

Finally, it was Cream who spoke. "It's getting late. We should get going."

"Yeah. Yeah, just … just gimmie a minute."

She nodded and walked away, giving Bunnie the privacy she needed.

Bunnie descended creakily to her knees and placed a hand in the centre of the marker. "Well, Rosie, here we are. A good deal older, an' a good deal wiser." She paused, taking a moment to organise her thoughts. "Reckon we did a good job on that gal," she murmured at last. "A real good job. You'd be proud of her, I'm sure of it." She glanced down to where Cream was sitting by the airpod with her knees drawn up to her chest, watching dirty white clouds scud through the sky. "Real proud."


5.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Not on me, you ain't!" Bettina glowered at her sister.

"Hey, don't make me separate you kids," Vector warned, eyes pressed so tight to the binoculars they'd left little rings in his scales.

"Well she started it," Bettina grumped, folding her arms.

Bunnie might have countered with some scathing remark, except that she was trying very hard to hold onto her lunch. She cupped a hand around her eyes and squinted. "Any sign, Vec?"

"I'd have said something if there was so much as a hair."

"Point."

Bettina rolled her eyes.

The fourth member of their little group scratched the back of his head and yawned.

"Burrow-bogs, Mighty, don't y'all sleep enough without yawnin' all over the place?" Bettina sniped.

"I can't help it if my metabolism's slow," he defended, stifling another. "It's this heat, too. I get sleepy when I'm comfortable."

She looked as thought she wanted to hit him. It was plausible that only the thought of Beryl's wrath stayed her fist. Everyone except Mighty himself knew of Beryl's crush, and the fanatical way she defended so much as the hint of a bad word said against him. She and Bettina had fought over it before, though they had been broken up before they got beyond scratches and hair pulling.

"Hey," Vector hissed, flailing a hand, "I think I see something, dawgs!"

"What?" asked Bunnie, heart, stomach, and a few other vital organs leaping into her throat.

"It's hard to make out, but it looks like…" He drew his eyes away from the lenses and blinked, then replaced them. "A dragon?"

Mighty frowned. "I thought all dragons were all roboticised."

"Well this one's still flesh and blood. Not too big, though. Maybe it ain't fully grown."

"Did the communication say anythin 'bout a dragon?" Bettina demanded of Bunnie.

"No," her sister replied. "Although, come to think of it, they didn't much 'bout any mode of transportation. The signal weren't too good, an' we didn't have much time 'afore it gave out."

"Wonderful. Perfect. So this could easily be a trap, then. Just what you got 'tween those ears, Bunnie? Cabbage leaves?"

"Maybe it's just lost and looking for someone to ask for directions," Mighty suggested.

Bettina glowered at him in a way that said: lynching follows. Start trembling.

"Uh-oh – incoming!" Vector yelled. He followed with, "Hit the deck!" complying with his own advice by burying his nose in the dirt.

A rapid burst of laserfire pursued the small dragon as it skimmed in and then out again, obviously thrown by the attack, even though Bunnie had been very specific in warning them about the SWATbot sentries in her message. It circled around for a minute, ducking its head towards its own belly in a most peculiar manner. Then it wheeled back, filling its lungs with air so that they swelled to gigantic proportions. A blast of white from its nostrils enveloped half of the sentries below them, and a second lungful polished off the rest. They glinted in the weak pre-dawn sun, and Bunnie realised with some shock that they had all been frozen solid.

"Well, I'll be jiggered," she heard Bettina mutter, also looking down at the sentries. "That must be mighty handy to have around."

"Huh? What was that?" Mighty sat up behind them. "I'm handy to have around?"

Bettina closed her eyes. "One, two, three, four, five…"

The dragon looped this way and that above them. Bunnie was considering waving the old tablecloth they'd brought out with them to use as a signal, but before she could the creature had dropped lower in the sky again. It didn't seem to want to land, instead slowing itself so that a couple of small … somethings could leap from its midriff.

A pouch, Bunnie realised. Like a kangaroo's. The dragon had been talking to someone riding in it before – the same someone who was now landing neatly in front of her little group. Two someones, actually. The first was a blue hedgehog wearing a pair of running shoes, a self-confident smirk and a glitter in his eye. The other was more familiar, despite the transition from grainy black and white image – built like a sparrow with a growth hormone deficiency, hair piled on top of her head, and intense eyes that Bunnie now saw were a blue just a shade lighter than the hedgehog's spikes. They looked questioningly at the mismatched foursome.

"Hey, Bunster," Vector whispered. "I think that's your cue."

Bunnie took a deep breath and stepped forward. Her heart was thundering like sapholopods across the wasteland, and her insides were collapsing like ice-cream in the heat. Still, she pasted on a brave face and stuck out her hand. "Princess Sally, I presume?"

The princess had a gentle but compelling smile. "You presume correct." She shook Bunnie's hand. "And I presume you're Bunnie Rabbot?"

"Y'all ain't too bad at presumin' yourself," Bunnie grinned, instantly at ease. "Welcome to the ancestral home of the Rabbot Clan."

Behind her, Vector coughed.

"An' guests."

Princess Sally nodded and held onto Bunnie's hand for perhaps a second more than was necessary. It tingled when she let go. "Perhaps we'd best get inside for the rest of the introductions. We have a lot to talk about."

"Finally," Bettina muttered as they filed in through the long-disused emergency exit. None of the Rabbot sisters had known of its existence, and it was only a freak discovery in the library by Espio that led them to locate it from old maps and unblock so they had a place to meet their visitors safely. "Some action."

The hedgehog grinned. "I'm liking this place already."


FINIS.