The sun is high in the sky by the time the bridge is finished. Knuckles is fatigued from the work – today is a bit more torrid than he previously predicted, but he is equally as satisfied with his productivity. Keeping busy has always been a good distraction, he doesn't have to think about his lamentations, and he gets several tasks out of the way.
He has double weaved everything, so the structure should not fall prey to any more rockslides or anything of the like. The fixture should last several years unless Blaze tries to burn it down. It sways just so with the wind, Knuckles breathes in the fresh air, it is quiet. He shuts his eyes, trying to parse if what he hears is the whistle of singing trees, or the whispers of the Emerald. Sometimes it is hard to tell.
A particularly strong wind blows, and Knuckles does not bother to correct his longer quills that brush his shoulders. His eyes remain closed. "I already talked to Rouge," he murmurs, closing and opening his fist.
"I know, she told us to wait for you."
It sounds a little forced coming from him, but he chuckles. He cracks open an eye just enough to see the flash of blue. "But you hate waiting, right?"
Sonic responds with his trademark grin, crossing his arms and inspecting Knuckles' handiwork. "Yup, trust me, I was patient, you just take forever." He chides, playful as he bumps Knuckles' shoulder.
His eyes fully open again, whatever the Master might be telling him drowned out by Sonic's undeniable presence. He huffs, moving his head in the bridges' direction. "I was a little busy, I do have other responsibilities besides' entertaining you." Knuckles reminds, feeling a little scrutinized.
"Yeah, well, it's not like there aren't people willing to help with… Whatever this is." Sonic crouches by the ledge, finger tugging the tied end of the weaved vines.
Knuckles raises a scrupulous brow. "I know how to build a bridge."
Straightening out, Sonic fixes Knuckles with a face so incredulous it could only be Sonic who could make it work. "Yeah, well I don't, what if one day I get stuck on a cliff or something, and I have no idea what to do?"
That actually makes him laugh, and the action feels like turning rusted gears, his heart still pangs from his earlier conversation with Rouge. It is nice to know Sonic still has this effect on him. He holds up a pointed finger. "One, building a bridge takes a lot of patience, a quality which you clearly lack," he brings up a second digit. "Two, building a bridge would not help you whatsoever, since you would need access to the other side." Knuckles brings his hand down, turning to leave the bridge where it continues to sway.
He shouldn't leave his friends waiting any longer. He feels them vaguely, scattered throughout the island, but he does not push to hard to find the finer details of their whereabouts. He knows his disappearance this morning has surely confirmed any suspicions regarding his mental health. He feels a little more comfortable approaching them if Sonic is with him, to bring some levity to Knuckles' constant storm of angst.
Sonic catches up before he takes another breath. He catches Knuckles off-guard with a hardy and endearing smack to his shoulder. Knuckles does not even jolt, but it still surprises him. Sonic sighs. "Right, I forgot you can fly." He says, tone almost envious.
Knuckles scoffs, rolling his eyes as he steps over a bush. "I cannot fly, I can glide," he corrects.
His friend raises his hands defensively, grin rictus as it is clear this is all fun to him. "Right, right, glide." Sonic pulls in front, walking backwards and narrowly avoiding an oncoming branch. "How do you do that, by the way? Don't tell me your dreads do all the work."
He has to physically stop, spluttering and struggling to decide if he should cackle or screech. "What? Where would you get that idea? Have you seen me? How could my quills somehow make me float? That's absurd." It has been a while since Knuckles has seen Sonic so effortlessly Sonic. It's nice, comfortable, and lacking any of the heaviness Knuckles knows hangs between them. If Knuckles does not acknowledge it, neither will Sonic, that's what makes their friendship work.
Stepping around a rather thorny bush, Sonic snorts. "Okay, but you have to admit it is weird. Rouge has her wings, and Tails has his… Tails. What do you have?"
Knuckles looks up, observing as the breeze pushes and pulls at the leaves above. It is particularly spirited today. "The wind," he says, quieter than he means to voice it.
With those words hanging in the air, Sonic misplaces his usually perfect poise and trips over the root of an old tree. Knuckles fights the urge to smirk, only stopping himself as he spots an invasive moss growing on the plant, he'll have to come back to treat it.
He is feeling generous, so he helps Sonic to his feet in one swift pull. Sonic lets out a sheepish laugh. "Wow, I am not heavy to you at all, am I?"
This time, he does smirk, responding with a cocky grin.
Sonic gives him a quick glance, mind working in ways Knuckles knows he will never voice. The hedgehog wipes down his jacket, although it does little to clear off the dirt and grass that stains the fabric. He looks away briefly, gaze transfixed on something far off. His green eyes do find Knuckles again, grinning fondly. "So, the wind huh?"
Knuckles nods.
He hums, shoving both hands in his pockets, whistling as if impressed. "So, how does one get the wind to listen to him?" Sonic inquires, keeping in step with Knuckles who continues to walk and step as if the tricky terrain is a morning stroll to him.
It is a delicate question, and Knuckles debates whether to answer it truthfully or not, if at all. Sonic would accept any answer, but Knuckles knows he is already being hard on the hedgehog. As willing as Sonic is to give him all the space he needs, he knows he is only worrying his friend, underneath all of that practiced cool. It makes his stomach clench to think about, worrying Sonic of all people. What a mess.
He decides on a mix between truth and falsehood.
Smiling, he answers. "You ask nicely."
Knuckles stops just short of the tree line surrounding the shrine, anxiety spikes an apprehensive energy in his veins, and he feels his hands start to shake. He wills the movement to be minimal, he doesn't like how much it projects his feelings to the outside world, when he would much rather keep them inside.
Sonic stands patiently next to him, though Knuckles does not miss him subtly shifting his weight from foot-to-foot. He is actually impressed he managed to walk the whole way here, Knuckles made sure to take his time returning, it must have been torture to the world's fastest creature. They kept the conversation light and playful, Sonic doing most of the talking. Knuckles will admit it was a little awkward, at least in his mind. By now it is surely abundantly clear that his head is not screwed on as well as previously thought, acting like all is well has proven to be remarkably difficult.
With that in mind, he lets out a long and strained breath, it weighs heavy on his chest. "Are they okay?" Knuckles asks, not bothering to elaborate further.
Inhaling sharp, Sonic clicks his tongue. "Not really, Amy is definitely going to smother you when she sees you." Sonic replies, honest as Knuckles always expects him to be.
"And Tails?"
Sonic visibly softens at the mention of his younger companion's name, and Knuckles feels a warmness spread as he sees his friend smile. "Probably panicking, but he'll be okay." In the same place he hit earlier, Sonic places an affectionate hand. "Once you are, obviously." He adds with a knowing wink.
Knuckles chuffs, trying to deflect even now. "I'm alright."
Sonic gives him a look.
"Okay, less fine than normal, but it's… it's not that bad."
Again, Sonic raises a brow, and Knuckles watches the cogs in his head turn. He feels a bit like a specimen being studied, but Knuckles allows the feeling to linger in favor of running away again. Guardians shouldn't run, even from unpleasant – although well-intentioned – interactions.
Finally, Sonic shakes his head, eyes drawing to the hut in the distance. "Okay, buddy, but can I remind you of somethin'?" He inquires, face taking on a gentler expression.
Knuckles softens just a tad, eyes widening in silent confirmation.
His friend smiles, that same knowing one he always gets when he's passionate.
"You're a tough guy, maybe tougher than all of us," The hand on his arm closes just a hair, trying to ensure Sonic has Knuckles attention. He does. "What you think is not that bad might actually suck, super super bad. But, because you're the tough guy, you think it doesn't, or at least you think it shouldn't. Like you should handle it alone." He lets go, sighing a tired sigh. It is a little jarring coming from Sonic.
"But, that's not the way it works, is it?" Sonic challenges, tone just questioning enough that Knuckles can't tell if he is meant to respond or not.
Briefly, Knuckles glances to his crest, then to the Emerald that hums loud to him, even from here. Then, he looks to Sonic, who is still giving him that insightful look. Knuckles sighs, feeling some tension leave his chest. "No, it's not," he mutters, mind distancing as he tries to gain perspective.
Muted frustration bubbles under his spines. He breathes the feeling out in one long exhale. "It's just hard, Sonic. I forget, truly I do," Knuckles admits, and his heart breaks to see Sonic soften with the confession. "I don't mean to be difficult, or standoffish, it's just…" I don't want you to worry, he thinks, but doesn't voice.
Sonic gives his bicep another comforting squeeze, before letting go to hide his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I know, red, we get it. I get it," he emphasizes by bringing a hand out to point a thumb at himself. Then, his ears fall back for a moment as he contemplates. Several thoughts pass over his expression, but they move to quickly for Knuckles to translate their meaning.
He makes a conclusion, looking out towards the field, eyes far away. "Do you remember when I was first rescued?" Sonic asks, and the question is so far out of the field Knuckles was expecting.
Of course he does. He remembers the tears, the new scars, and the absolute relief. Relief that maybe he wouldn't have to hold all of the resistances' weight, that perhaps he could share a small load with his newly recovered friend.
But, he also remembers deciding against that. Knuckles half expected Sonic to take control as soon as he was found, but when he didn't, Knuckles couldn't say he was entirely surprised.
He wouldn't force a victim to lead a revolution against his captor.
Knuckles only replies with a subdued, "Yes,"
Sonic nods, chuckling to himself as he thinks of the right words. "Well, then you also remember me wanting to get straight to fighting after I got back."
"I do, I told you to wait, but you didn't listen to me."
The hedgehog finds Knuckles eyes again, and he is a little startled by the conviction he sees in his expression. "No, I didn't – sorry about that by the way," Sonic amends with a laugh, Knuckles rolls his eyes. It's not like he cares all that much, nothing can stop Sonic for long, Knuckles wouldn't purposefully hold him back.
"Anyway, I'd been cooped up for…" He begins counting on his fingers.
"Six months," Knuckles supplies.
Sonic snaps, pointing a finger his way. "Right, so a long-ass time, right?" Knuckles nods. He knows. "So small, tiny little space like that? Not so great for me, at all." He says with a nervous chuckle. Something tight and hot twists in Knuckles' gut. An undefined rage, one he can never quite be free of.
"So, when I got out, all I wanted to do was move, I had to, or I might've lost my mind. So I fought, and ran, and did whatever I could to avoid sitting still. You remember that?"
The guardian laughs. It's not funny, the heart of his words, but Knuckles knows Sonic doesn't like pity. He doesn't, either. "How could I forget; you wreaked havoc all over my headquarters."
"I sure did – I didn't stop until we'd won, you know why?" This time, his question is delivered a little slower, almost careful.
Knuckles gulps, the tremors in his hands worsen. "Yes, I do."
He tilts his head. "Why?"
This is something he truly does not want to answer. Hesitation and empathy coarse through him like harsh waves. Sonic doesn't like speaking about things of this caliber. He and Knuckles have that in common. When his pause lasts longer than he means, Sonic tilts his head with an encouraging smile. It's okay.
"You were trying to distract yourself," Knuckles mumbles, hushed without fully being a whisper.
Sonic hums, and Knuckles will always be amazed at how well he can handle things like this. Knuckles shouldn't dare complain when he knows what Sonic has been through. Nothing in his life is worth complaining over. His sorrow is wasted on him.
"Exactly, I didn't wanna think about it, y'know? Thinking about it hurt, and I wanted to pretend everything was okay," smile still holding, Sonic says it slow, like a parent has just told him no to a request.
"But it wasn't," Knuckles adds, knowing where this is going.
"—Right again, buddy, it absolutely was not," Sonic laughs, soft and tired in a way Knuckles rarely hears from him. Like he is waking up, still in the throes of a dream come to claim him. "Yesterday, I told you I wasn't used to feeling that way, like I couldn't just deal with things that happen, not the way I usually do." Knuckles tenses, he does remember, he also remembers being rescued from this conversation by Amy and Tails.
He'll find no such luck this time.
"And I told you how I deal with that, now, right?" Another nod. "Well, at first I didn't do that, at first I totally did not even wanna think about letting other people in," eyes faded and far away, Sonic says.
Images of frightful eyes and jolts of surprise flash in succession, Knuckles remembers. And god, it is painful to recall. Sonic, the picture of light and chaos in the best possible way, struggling to hide his new scars in the shadows.
Knuckles tried to be solid in lieu of Sonic's newfound vulnerability, tried to keep the resistance together by sheer determination alone. Because truly, at the time, Knuckles was so utterly unequipped to be of any real help to a friend struggling in such a way as Sonic. The guilt of that realization had been completely agonizing, and only really settled to make him sink lower. There was so much he just… Could not do.
He couldn't save the world with ease, all while spouting witty wisecracks like it is his own language, nor in the same could he save any of the rebels lost, no matter how emblazoned his heart was for them.
More so, he could not comfort the families, words written out in gold like poetry on his heart, but coming out as nothing more than crude condolences when they rise to his lips. Sonic's condition only served to prove his point to himself.
So, Knuckles helped the only way he knows how. He protected. Knuckles did just about everything outside of keeping him cooped up (never, ever, not in a thousand millennia,) to make sure Sonic was secure. Always.
Always go with someone if you go on missions. Check in every hour on the dot. Bring lunch with you. If you get tired, please, please come back.
Whatever he felt was best, he made sure the rules were loud and clear to Sonic. Brazen and so harsh in a way Knuckles knows he can get away with, only by virtue of his usual persona. He doesn't know if the effort was appreciated, if Knuckles was like a rock of security, or something stifling at made his friend's recovery all the more daunting – but Knuckles isn't sure he has much else to give, besides that.
Security and strongholds are all he knows.
Regardless of what the answer may be, Sonic has never said anything on the matter, one way or the other. In a way, Knuckles is grateful. Crossing this bridge is dangerous. A barely scabbed over wound for both of them, if it has healed at all.
With that in mind, Knuckles clears his throat, Sonic appears almost relieved when he replies, "I remember Sonic," there is more to be said. Several regretful, bleeding apologies form in his head. I'm sorry I didn't look hard enough. Sorry I let something hurt you so badly. Sorry I let it hurt Tails.
None of it exits the door in his mind, he has never said what he needs to, but he hopes his tone of voice is enough. It never is, but he prays this time it is.
Sonic's gaze wanders and locks onto something and he smiles. Real this time, not his perfectly practiced one. The one that only those close know if it is counterfeit or not. Knuckles traces Sonic's stare, squinting to find the only flash of bright and fantastic pink in the entire field. Amy.
He keeps his eyes trained on the fleck of her, continuing softly, "I was surrounded by people who love me, but I'd never felt more lonely in my life."
The admission is like a punch to the gut, and Knuckles feels the air in his lungs momentarily evaporate in his chest, before his body reminds him to breathe again. It should not be surprising; Knuckles was always aware of Sonic's silent struggle during the remaining months of the rebellion. But hearing them uttered aloud by the blue blur himself is jarring, to put it lightly.
Sonic was never the type to have to act strong and hide his pain, mainly because Sonic just is strong – mentally and physically. His younger friend has never had to hide anything, Sonic just is. Impossibly hopeful and more buoyant than a shooting star, Sonic faces odds no one would even pray to beat, and laughs.
On the very, very rare occasions when he burns a little dimmer than usual, he's never hidden it. At the very least, not from Knuckles.
Even still, Knuckles knows the expectation is there, and in a way, he feels bad for it. The expectation to always be that source of hope, never bending to the unceasing waves of hardship – Knuckles can absolutely see why Sonic would try to hide it now. He's never been broken before, why start now? In the heat of a war that has stolen so much from everyone? Sonic would never put his inner torment first.
So, to hear it now, months after the damage has already been done, consequences thoroughly reaped, Knuckles chest twists with guilt and his guardian crest burns like a brand on his skin.
Eyes falling low to the patch of dirt he has scraped up with his combat boots, Knuckles mutters, "I'm sorry," as quiet and meaningful as someone with a booming voice can manage.
Sighing, Sonic shakes his head, but doesn't let his eyes go free of watching their pink friend in the distance. "It's not your fault, red," he returns, sounding so completely sure of it. "It's not anyone's fault," Knuckles opens his mouth, and Sonic quickly amends, "—except the people who are obviously at fault."
Robotnik's name goes unsaid and part of Knuckles can't help but be thankful for it. Sonic exhales, finally tearing his gaze away from Amy, who has wandered to the shrine. Pinning Knuckles with an utterly Sonic expression, he shakes his head. "I'm just saying that I don't know what I would have done without you guys, with you, Knux," Sonic emphasizes, in such a way that he leaves no room for debate
"I reached a point where no matter how far I ran, all of that – that stuff was still just inside me, slowly rising like some sort off—" he grimaces, shuddering under his own thoughts. "—like some sort of rising tide or something. I had to make a decision."
Knuckles wills himself not to jump when Sonic's arm magically appears on his shoulder, the kickback from his undeniable speed tussling Knuckles' quills like a passing breeze. Sonic searches for something in the tired lines etched into Knuckles features at this point, and he is clueless as to whether he finds something.
Voice mellow, yet still confident, Sonic gives his shoulder a squeeze. "I had to choose whether or not I wanted to drown," he gives Knuckles a gentle tug, and it shouldn't move him or make him budge in the slightest, but he does. "… Or if I wanted someone to pull me up."
And he gives Knuckles such a powerful look it leaves him a little winded. It's so muddled and contradicted, as if Sonic has no idea what to make of him. Something so caring and considerate fighting against the slight creases that tell of deep worry. Worry for him, that is deep. It's very nearly like a kick in the teeth, and Knuckles has to remind himself that this is part of friendship, this is a part of it. People are allowed to worry for you – just as he is allowed to worry for them.
A feeling, black and viscous, and mean still lingers, and he just feels bad that he cannot fully let it go, but he exhales softly and shakes his head. It releases some of the hurt, in a temporary way. "You made the right choice," trying for reassuring, he isn't sure if it comes across well.
The sadness and upset infecting Sonic's frame in the subtle way it does shifts a little, and Knuckles kicks himself for being unable to tell how it has changed. Perhaps he is coming up with the best way to call Knuckles out on being a hypocrite – and he knows he is, despite how shameful it makes him feel.
But, Sonic only grins a little wider, a pleasant and crooked thing, as it sometimes is, when there is not mischief hiding in his eyes. It fills Knuckles with a conflicting sense of warmth and dread all at once, something Sonic is extraordinarily good at doing to him.
"Knuckles," Sonic starts, mild and urgent at the same time, and the use of his name without any sort of affectionate moniker has him trying not to panic. "I wouldn't have made it without all of you, and I know you'd rather eat chalk than take any credit for it, but I need ya' to know that I feel better – so much better," chuckling, he gives Knuckles arm a squeeze.
"…and I promise you that you have every bit to do with it that Amy or Tails do, you make me feel better, Knuckles," he admits, and he might as well have pushed Knuckles off a cliff with that statement.
Because what is he meant to say to that? His mind has been a flurry of hatred, and now he is being bombarded with praise and credit for something Knuckles hadn't even meant to do.
He lets go, and Knuckles shivers. Sonic has never been especially touchy with Knuckles, they usually get by with the typical fist bump or a hug when time and life has kept them apart, but it has never bothered him before. It's not like Knuckles knows what is to be expected of physical affection with your best friends. Anyone, really. It's fine, Sonic shows his affection in different ways.
Now, that they've been separated for far longer than it has been in a while (besides the looming "Eggman tortured you," elephant in the room,) Knuckles notes how Sonic has flipped the script of their usual antics.
Something falls into place, and Knuckles fights the small smile from appearing on his face as lovely warm affection fills his every limb like a bonfire.
He's doing it for me, Knuckles thinks. God, how much of this has he planned? Knuckles partly does not like the idea of making his friend – his friend who very much values his personal space – feel the need to move out of his comfort zone.
But the greater part of him knows you can't make Sonic the Hedgehog do anything he does not want to do. The entire world could shriek a command and still he would stand, unbothered and defiant as a smart aleck like him can get.
He also knows that Sonic does not back down from a challenge – and Knuckles is certainly being a challenge. He's not stupid, he knows what this is, and shit, he has no clue what to do.
For the first time since his visit, Knuckles aches to hear from Tikal, just one little utterance of her wisdom.
He swallows, "Sonic…" Cornered, Knuckles warns. His stomach is doing flips in his middle, he hates how he feels. There is no danger to be fearful, nothing to have need of his guard. And part of him is so moved by how much effort Sonic is putting in, he is trying so much harder than Knuckles would ever even think to ask of him.
But against reality, Knuckles is tense.
And it must be the most pitiful thing to witness. Sonic tilts his head sadly, examining the sudden apprehension Knuckles knows is gleaming in his eyes. The Emerald presses harshly into his middle, trying to get through to him in some way. It only serves to stress him out more, an unwanted presence in his mind when all he wishes for his quiet.
Easy, and very careful, like his words might set off landmines if he says them wrong, Sonic utters, "Knuckles, I want you to feel better, too."
The air is thin up here, it always has been. The Emerald surely tries to keep breathing as comfortable as possible – there would not be so much beauty and green and life if it didn't – and it has never bothered Knuckles before.
But now, with Sonic's words absorbing like poison seeping into his bloodstream, he feels lightheaded.
"Sonic I…" he begins, but so much has happened, so fucking much. Knuckles doesn't even know where to start. Rouge would know how to state it, with perfect eloquence. It feels wrong, to spill his guts to a friend with so much going on already. Not the same busy as Amy, no, but still equally as important.
God, this is so unfair. They were supposed to leave yesterday. Stupid, insightful, amazing friends.
And he is about to say something, about to be brave or maybe stupid, because he does not want to share whatsoever – he already had to pull his own quills out to say anything to Rouge, but Sonic is trying. Really, really trying in a way that Knuckles knows can be hard for him. So it is purely out of that obligation that he tries to find something to admit.
That is, before he lurches to the side with an uncomfortable jolt. Alarm and panic briefly pass over him as it tightens around his heart. Stumbling back a few steps and grabbing at his head – trying to untangle the sudden sensory overload.
It is likely very bad that his first thought is danger, but he can hardly focus on the thought over the three different hums filling his brain.
Sonic is by his side, and Knuckles is vaguely aware of his hand that has found his arm again, and he shoots him a look with wide eyes.
"What's going on, buddy?" Sonic pushes, calm enough to hide the worry in his eyes.
"There's people," Knuckles grinds out, and normally he can tell within seconds who and where, but uhg, if he had not been so distracted – he would be able to decipher the three wavelengths that have seemingly just appeared out of nowhere.
Sonic looks a little lost beside him, and Knuckles feels bad for it. "Oh, they're early –" what? Who? "It's alright, Knux, just take a breath."
That advice is sound, and it is a comfort to hear the nickname from Sonic. The relief is instantaneous, and Knuckles feels rather foolish for panicking at the flip of a dime like that. It's a minute before his head fully clears, and he's kneeling by the end of it. Sonic is unusually quiet, and it is telling. It's not often that the Emerald and his senses connected can bring him to his knees like this, and he isn't sure if he's ever faltered in front of Sonic.
"Sorry, I'm okay," he mumbles, shaking his temple and feeling some pressure thankfully flow out with the gesture.
There is hesitation as Sonic retracts his hand, and Knuckles can tell it is because his friend is trying to tell if he is telling the truth or not. He is, although he is a little embarrassed. Those three auras suddenly feel so familiar that they seep warmly down to his bones. He admonishes himself, normally he doesn't even have to think about it, but this time it startled him.
Though, perhaps if he'd been getting a little more sleep, would he have been a bit more equipped for unexpected visitors. He gives Sonic a weary, confused stare.
"Sonic… why are the Chaotix here?"
Once Sonic gives him the okay (he can be surprisingly protective sometimes,) Knuckles takes off into a sprint towards the direction of the Chaotix' ship, which landed somewhere near Mushroom Hill. Knuckles has no clue why they would land there, Hydrocity has always been the go-to landing area for his friends, Mushroom Hill has very little space for a safe landing, especially for their plane.
Even then, Knuckles doesn't even know what the heck they are doing here. Sonic was vague and only shrugged when he'd asked, and Knuckles got the distinct impression that he didn't even know, so he took off. For whatever reason, Sonic does not follow. And, he does feel guilty about it, but there is some relief in that.
Now, Sonic will always be the quickest thing alive, bar none, but Knuckles is still very fast. His natural agility and feel for the terrain make quick work in the way of covering ground, and he is past Hydrocity in less than twenty minutes. He would be even swifter if his stomach wasn't empty. Upon inspection, Knuckles can feel his friends already moving in the general direction of the shrine, although rather slowly in comparison to his brisk pace.
He is a little apprehensive, if his acting has the same effect as it has on his already present friends, then it certainly won't work on the Chaotix. They can all be a bit distracted, in their own way, it is just their personalities and Knuckles would never change that for all the security in the world.
But that does not mean they can't be extremely perceptive, especially when it comes to him. They would not be detectives if they weren't, but it seems like the troupe try extra hard when it comes to him.
To his comfort and extreme horror.
He is leaping over a mossy boulder (He tripped and broke his arm falling over it when he was fourteen) when the thrum of buzzing, joyous energy bursts through him in one big explosion of childlike giddiness.
Skidding to a stop, Knuckles instinctively looks up, and he for the life of him cannot stop the grin tugging at his lips. "Where are you, Charmy?" Knuckles asks into the air, eyes pulled upwards to spot his little friend, if he has chosen to fly today.
"Everywhere, and nowhere!" Calls an energetic, far away voice.
Chuckling, Knuckles shakes his head. "Espio giving you a few lessons lately?"
A pause. "Maybe. Or I'm just naturally stealthy." The voice says, and Knuckles can tell (ignoring his aura, just to make it more fun) from how it echoes that his little friend must be somewhere above him. He's sure of it now.
With a few well-practiced grips and vaults, he stands mid-height on a strong branch, this forest area is not particularly dense – a wildfire a few years ago helped make clearing it out a little easier – so visibility should be fairly easy.
Charmy can be sneaky, if he wants to be. "I think it can be both, don't you?" leaning against the tree, struggling to spot any dash of yellow in a sea of green. "Come on, Charms, I'm not cheating, I don't know if I can find you."
"Puh-lease, Knux! You're like, the best treasure hunter in the world! You can find me easy!" A rustle not too far from his left, Knuckles narrows his eyes, trying to focus. "Oops—I mean no you totally cannot, actually. I'm too incredibly hidden and skilled."
Knuckles grins, sneaking to cross over to another branch of a separate tree. "I know you are, my friend. I'm thoroughly stumped."
A stutter, Knuckles tilts his head, trying to strain his ears. "Wait—are you actually?" Charmy asks, with some sort of confusing panic.
For all his muscles and heavyset stature, Knuckles lands on the next branch with a sort of agility that might not be normally associated with someone like him. He chuckles, trying not to breathe too hard down Charmy's neck as he creeps up behind him.
"I don't know, am I, Charms?"
The reaction is instantaneous, and Charmy startles up so fast he nearly shoots five feet in the air as his wings burst to life. The kid lets out rather juvenile squeal, and the sounds bubbles warm in Knuckles chest. Like Tails, the younger teen just keeps growing, no matter how much Knuckles protests about it. Even if Charmy will never be particularly tall (bug Mobians just don't get very big) it still hurts to see the kid grow up. In a good way.
Charmy gives him a waning glare as he tries to catch his breath from the scare, but his eyes shine with unsuppressed mirth. "Ha-ha, so I couldn't hide from the guy who lives here! I want a do-over."
"Perhaps another time, Charmy," voices Espio, seemingly appearing out of thin air on the tree limb above them. Knuckles would be surprised, if he wasn't completely used to Espio's "ninja shenanigans" (as Vector likes to call them). Espio is a special case, in that he is the only person Knuckles has ever met who can actively hide from the Emerald's detection.
To an extent at least. If he looks for it, Knuckles can find it, but it is so quiet and muted most of the time, it is just hard to feel at all.
That, paired with Espio's chosen walk of life… well, Knuckles would never doubt his friends, never in a thousand moons or suns, but he does know how bad it would be if his chameleon friend one day decided to change sides.
Regardless of that cheery thought, Knuckles finds his smile growing even wider, it nearly hurts the way the corners of his mouth curl. It has been so long since this many people who Knuckles cares about so much have all been on his island. At the same time.
His head swivels to try and locate the lead crocodilian detective, who is never too far behind. In a blink, Espio is next to him, that same kind smile spread pleasantly across his face and infecting his whole face. "He's around here somewhere," he supplies, seemingly reading Knuckles' mind.
Nodding, Knuckles hums. "I know," he pauses, reaching out to pull at a stronger tether to Emerald, reaching out for his friend. "Oh, when did he get that far ahead of you?" Knuckles inquires, somewhat to himself for not even noticing Vector's wavelength grow further and further away. He's nearly to the shrine at this rate.
Espio appears equally as surprised, but seems to mull it over in his mind before making a conclusion. "Well, he was in a rush, he'll never admit it, but he is rather anxious about this."
Blinking dumbly, Knuckles caulks his head to the right, only barely dodging Charmy's legs as he soars above. He stares at Espio, eyes narrow. "And what exactly is this? What are you all even doing here?"
The color drains from Espio's face, and his eyes flash between what Knuckles thinks to be panic and horror. His arm shoots up suddenly, grabbing onto a passing Charmy's ankle, and the insect yelps. His arm bends and shoves the younger teen right into Knuckles chest, and the force of the contact makes Knuckles start with a quiet "oof."
"Charmy said he wanted a hug," Espio offers, not at all convincing and so utterly suspicious.
Knuckles manages to catch the scalding glare Charmy aims at the chameleon, but then softens when he peers back up to Knuckles. His striking gold eyes go wide for a moment, then Charmy exhales, almost sad and defeated. He does wrap his arms around him, and Knuckles always feels a little bad when people without quills (or many quilled friends, in Tails' case) hug him, it's a tedious, and sometimes painful endeavor.
The Chaotix never complain, ever, but Knuckles still tries not to hug them too tight in case of further injury.
Knuckles hugs him back, and his buzzing, happy aura hit him at full force again, and he is trying not to giggle.
"They were right…" Charmy mumbles into his chest, holding a little tighter. His voice is low and… Sad. Sad in a way that Knuckles cannot begin to unpack, because just a moment ago he was playing with him. Smiling and giddy in a way that only Charmy ever is.
He looks to Espio, hopeful for at least a little bit of explanation. Instead, he sees that Espio has strayed further away on the tree's limb, whispering harshly into his cellphone. Despite his predicament, Knuckles rolls his eyes. Secrecy it is, then.
There is a little inkling, a terrifying idea, that circles like a whirlpool in his thoughts. It's irrational and selfish, but Knuckles can't rule it out, and god, Rouge can worry when she wants to. If she – or Amy for that matter, have something in the works, he is done for.
But that would be stupid, he thinks. Because this – his mind's betrayal is not this much effort, it never will be.
It's just a birthday.
Stupid, caring, and attentive friends.
They take their time walking to the shrine, and Knuckles is absolutely thrilled about it. His stomach was already doing flips over having to face Amy and Tails, but now he has to face the Chaotix right alongside them. Vector was very annoyed that Knuckles dare go and investigate their unannounced arrival instead of staying put by the Emerald. Because why would a guardian do such things? And damnit, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot wall himself off the way he normally can.
Maybe it is his talk with Rouge and Sonic mixing together to create some sort of amorphous mess of devotion and tenderness tangling and gumming up his insides. There's no telling, at this point.
The first person he sees when they arrive is Vector. The croc in turn sees him, and Knuckles is barely out of the crest of the forest before Vector is barreling towards him with surprising swiftness. He is expecting to be crushed in a hug, since that is all anyone is doing to him these days, but Vector breaks the status quo be forcefully taking Knuckles by the shoulders and fixing him with a hard look.
A worry line has been grooved into the center of his face, even if he is doing what he can to hide it. Vector looks over very inch of his face, searching (why does everyone keep doing that?) before he shakes his head, frustrated.
"What are ya doin' to yourself, bro?"
The weight of the question hits him like a truck, and he knows it shows on his face. Espio grinds out a whispered admonishment and gently hits Vector in the bicep. He lets go and Knuckles tries not to seem too shell shocked. Schooling is expression into something resembling a smile (although it might look more like a grimace) and shrugging his shoulders.
"I don't know what you mean, Vic," as utterly casual as he can manage, which is not great because he knows it comes off as very robotic. Charmy has landed behind him, Knuckles can practically feel the anxiety swelling from him.
Vector and Espio share a look, then each give him a smile he knows is very, very strained. "Let's meet with the others," Espio offers, no one objects, and they walk in silence the rest of the way. Knuckles hates it, normally so jaded to the silence, now it grates on him like a bag of rocks tied to his neck.
It is just eerie to be around friends without their usual cheer. He can't help but feel like it is his fault.
They should not even be here. Now look at them, worrying and dejected, over him.
Knuckles spots Amy immediately, doing that very barely controlled speed walk she does when she is trying not to appear stressed or angry. Knuckles cannot quite tell which is the right answer in this situation. Sonic trails lazily behind her, grin present but still with that serious aura swimming around him. Amy gives the Chaotix a curt nod that sends Knuckles straight back to the resistance with her delivery.
She means business, and Knuckles is not sure he has the strength to bring forth Commander Knuckles to match her.
Giving Vector a very stern look that Knuckles can only guess means "We are going to talk about this later," but he is not confident enough in his read to be convinced. Amy stops just short of him, pinning him with her eyes. He feels some security leave him as the Chaotix continue walking as he stops, seemingly headed for the shrine. Traitors.
Sonic stands a few paces away, and what Knuckles wouldn't give to know what the blue blur is thinking right now.
Amy reaches to him, clutching caring around his wrist and giving it a gentle tug. He understands the unspoken request and kneels to meet her eye-to-eye. It is torture, as keeping eye contact usually is, but it is especially draining now.
She starts, voice melodic and naturally joyous as it always is. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" Gives his wrist another squeeze, "are you okay?" she asks, completely genuine, and Knuckles wants to break and tear himself apart before he lies to Amy, but what is he supposed to do? There is nothing, nothing worth wasting energy over. It's just him.
Waves of grief and anxiety crash over him so harshly it is suffocating. He can't run away again, he can't, but they're trying to peer into something he knows they do not truly want to see. He doesn't want them to see. They just… Keep trying.
He swallows, knowing Sonic is hearing his every word. "Did something happen, Amy?"
Smile faltering, she looks at him in silence for a long period, and every second that ticks by feels like a vein crystalizing. Agonizing and slow in how long it takes her to speak again, and he knows he deserves every moment of it.
Finally, she frees him from unseen shackles and shakes her head. "You happened, you goofball." No edge to her tone, Amy she shakes her head as if Knuckles is a puzzle she cannot put together.
Despite himself, he laughs, tired as it can get. "Was it because I stormed off to get wood last night? Because I came back. Was it the tea?" he shrugs, eyeing the wraps twisted around his namesakes. "…Or was it because I stormed off this morning? I was just fixing a brid—"
A slender finger to his lips, and Knuckles is frozen in place, voice completely left from him. Amy shakes her head. "It's nothing specific, Knuckles," her finger leaves his mouth to rest her hand on his cheek. "I know you; you can't hide from that."
That last part stings, just a little, because he knows that – in some part – hiding has hurt her feelings. They did not hide much from each other, during the resistance. They couldn't afford it. Has he really betrayed that relationship now?
"You called Rouge," he replies, not brave enough to elaborate further.
The wind blows gently around them, Knuckles watches a stray quill fall just out of place of Amy's headband. She does not seem to notice as she nods. "I did, because I was – am worried about you. I know you hate to hear but I can't help it." Her hand drifts to rub her eye. "Rouge knows you too, and you feel safe with her."
Knuckles sees the irony in feeling safe with a former jewel thief who seems to thrive under his embarrassment. He accepts that the assessment is still true. "I didn't do anything."
"It's the whole island, Knux, it feels what you feel," Knuckles is surprised when Sonic pipes up from behind Amy, who nods in agreement. He can only give them a puzzled look.
Amy sighs, and it sounds heavy. "This place is a part of you, and if you aren't doing well, and maybe this is just me pulling shit out of nowhere – but I think… maybe, the island might mourn that," her voice breaks, just the slightest bit, and Knuckles eyes go wide. She is not crying, but Knuckles feels her anguish in pungent waves.
"Knuckles, we came up here… Not… not just because we just… Want to see you, because obviously we do – but we also came up here to check on you."
Knuckles sucks in a breath; Sonic is by him before he even exhales.
She continues, "We wanted to make sure you were okay, because you've been so… Distant lately. I haven't seen you in so long, and you hardly answer my calls for too long anymore, like talking to me makes you sad and I hate that. I hate that so much." Amy sniffles, and Sonic places a comforting hand on her shoulder, something affectionate passes between them before she returns her gaze to him.
"And it hurts, because I want you to talk to me, Knuckles. I want you to talk to me like you did during the resistance. I want you to tell me when you are scared of something or angry or overjoyed or whatever!" She throws her hands up, then deflates a little, bringing her arms down to hug herself lightly.
"You're one of my favorite people in the world, Knuckles, I don't want to lose you to your head. So please, don't shut us out. Don't shut me out." She ends with that, and tears do not spill, she is putting on a very brave face – because she is brave, and Knuckles could not be more proud.
"We want you to feel better, buddy," Sonic echoes, and it brings Knuckles back to their previous conversation, and then his with Rouge. Sonic shrugs, grin lopsided as he talks. "Even if you say we're making a mountain out of a molehill, we know you."
Amy worries her lower lip, as if she wants to say more, but she and Sonic keep sharing looks, unspoken agreements made in a matter of moments. Knuckles looks between the two, who are unquestionably patient with him as he thinks. Then, he squints to see the now blurry greens and purples and yellows that make the Chaotix. He can feel Tails and Rouge nearby as well, they must have finished whatever they were hoping to. They are all here for him. People who make the effort he would never ask of them.
That anxiety made one with his soul twists at him like a burning knife, but they came all this way, and he should really find a job around to distract himself with once more, because something in his chest wants to just give in.
He does not deserve his birthright, nor his marks, but they think he does, and he won't do them the injustice of stringing them along when they just want to help. Is that what he needs, really? Is that simply pathetic? It's just a birthday.
Why do these strange, wonderful, irreplaceable friends care so much? What has he done for these people that is so important to warrant this much care? Nothing significant comes to mind. He can't understand it. He can't, he can't, he can't.
"One day you will," he reminds himself, because Rouge would want him to.
But it is more than that to them, and they do not need to know that he'll live in shame and disgrace, but maybe they might understand more, if they knew why.
Stare remaining blank on the horizon – the sun is so high in the sky now; it will be time to consider dinner soon, he hasn't even had lunch – Knuckles clears his throat. "Saying it's not a big deal, is a futile effort, isn't it?" despite the storm of emotion roaring and sloshing within, he tries to say it with some humor. Sonic could pull it off so much better, but he hates to be the cause of this heaviness.
It seems to do the trick at least somewhat. Amy and Sonic's lips turn up just the smallest bit, but Knuckles has never been the lightest person, so the playful tone may fall flat a little. The two nod and he observes the tension visibly leak out of Amy's shoulders as if he has lifted something heavy off of her.
She blinks at him, eyes shining with that ineffable hope that the world cannot seem to take from her. "So, you'll come with us back to the cabin?"
He grinds his teeth, not too fond of the idea, but settling on it as inevitable anyways. His friends care. They care. They care enough to notice when something is bothering him, even if he is doing everything in his power to hide it. They don't deserve to be lied to.
Wilting a little, Knuckles nods affirmative. "Yes, sorry for making you have to chase me," he adds that last bit, hoping to take some edge off.
Amy releases a sigh that must relieve all the stress in her body, lips turning up to an elated grin as she hooks her arm around his elbow and starts to drag him. He lets her. "I forgive you, just don't make it so hard on me again," she chides, and Knuckles allows a little chuckle at that. Sonic hums in agreement next to them. Knuckles throws him an appreciative glance at Sonic choosing to keep pace with them.
"Okay, I won't," it comes off more tired than he means it to, but he is being genuine. It's been made thoroughly clear that his acting skills are subpar at best, he couldn't even keep his friends unaware for a day. Something does puzzle him, though. "I do have a question," he adds, trying not to sound as curious as he really is.
"Ask way," Amy replies, taking utmost care to avoid the wildflowers in the field as she walks. Knuckles appreciates it.
"Why are the Chaotix here?" He tries at asking again.
Amy hesitates with the question, looking to Sonic with a strange look on her face. Nearly, confused? He thinks?
Sonic answers in her stead. "Uh, actually, we don't know."
Knuckles raises a brow. "What? Didn't you call them here?" His eyes go to Amy.
She shrugs, huffing to go with the growing annoyance on her face. "I did, but only after Rouge asked me to. They were supposed to get here tomorrow, but they're early."
"And you just went along with it?" Knuckles sounds nothing short of amazed. It's not like Amy to let someone else make the plans, especially when it comes to situations such as this.
Rolling her eyes, the smile slowly returns to her face, almost coy. "Look, whatever happens is Rouges' idea, I promise," she says, wry and secretive like a child telling a lie.
And with that ominous warning now hanging in the air, the three arrive a few strides short of the hut before Knuckles forces a stop, Amy very nearly trips over the air because of it. Sonic grabs at her shoulder to steady her.
They are all in there, Knuckles can feel it. It's not often to have this many on the island, and once upon a time it might have been overwhelming. Now, it is in a different sense. He gulps, struggling to hold the shake in his hands still, though he knows it is fruitless.
"It'll be okay, buddy," Sonic says, seemingly reading his thoughts.
Shaking his head, Knuckles takes a deep breath. "No – I know, I'm sorry, I'm fine I just, am not sure what to say," he admits honestly, the timbre of his voice shaking despite his protests.
Amy hugs his arm a little tighter. Knuckles relishes in the closeness to ground him. "It will come to you, Knuckles."
She is right, he knows. Truthfully, that is what scares him.
When he finally gets the courage to move forward, he enters the cabin to find all eyes drawn to him. Everyone is waiting. He wills himself not to be crushed by the weight of their stares, but it is hard.
They sit in a circle, and Knuckles unwraps the invisible tape around his muzzle and begins to speak.
He tells them everything. It didn't mean to, truly. His plan had been to satiate them with whatever sort of vague explanation he could give, hopeful they might realize that things really are fine. Knuckles has just been lonely, that's all.
The rest is something he is not sure they will understand, not the way Rouge has come to.
But Amy looks so hurt for him while he speaks, heart bleeding red all over her usual bright pink. And Charmy comes to attach himself to his shoulders in a sort of side hug that he does not let go of, even after Knuckles brings up the potential injury via very sharp spines, but he hears none of it and only holds him tighter.
It starts as the planned trickle of information, careful with his words and all. But soon it becomes more like a rushing river, and he is clenching his fists tight enough that Rouge has to tell him to let go.
He does, and everything else comes with it. Like a body trying to expel sickness. The details are scraped out of him like a shovel to dirt and it only leaves a hole in him. It hurts his chest in a long and old way, and by the time he has moaned about the undeserving marks for the last time, the tremor in his hand has infected his arms and his shoulders, making Charmy shake with him.
It should make him feel better, the release of everything that has held him captive for so long, but it does not. Not really. Grateful for supportive and loving friends who will never tell him the truth, and he does feel lighter, but not better.
His birthday will still come, and it will still pain him the same way it had whether his friends never came at all. There is some happiness, happy that he has friends who care so, so much, and he takes the time to put himself in their shoes.
He would want to know why he has been so far away, too. Even if he can never fully comprehend the affection they feel for him, he can understand that at least.
Most are stunned into silence, Charmy sniffles, and Knuckles feels so guilty and responsible for the tears of the teen. Some part of him thinks he should cry too, maybe that might help spur his friends into reaction, but he rarely cries, and while anguish flourishes in him, nothing tries to fall from his eyes.
Rouge watches him from the kitchen, Knuckles only briefly acknowledges her as his friends all seem to reanimate at once, coming to crowd him with soft and kind affirmations of his worth. It does cause some warmth to burn comforting within his stomach, and some of his icy numbness melts, just the smallest bit.
For their sake, he tries to accept the kindness they offer him, but it is exhausting in a different way. Like lying to himself with every sweet smile. It is so frustrating, he wishes Robotnik would show up, just so Knuckles would have something to use to blow off some steam.
"You led the revolution to victory," someone says at one point, subdued and in awe at Knuckles view of himself despite this fact.
He only shrugs. What should he say? No, he didn't? On a technicality, he did, he just does not think it counts for much, not when he had so many amazing people helping him. He only stayed behind and directed the real heroes on where to go.
Emptiness aside, his friends love does infect him despite his stubborn resistance, if not only because he is just so grateful for them. And his friends are so smart, they would never lie to him, at least not over things such as this. True to him or not, that's irrelevant, because whatever they say about him is true to them.
They believe he is a good guardian, a great one, Tails even said.
They believe he is a good leader, Vector and Amy both give him a nasty look when he tries to dispute it.
They believe he is a good friend. They all pitch in on hammering that one home.
These are infallible truths to his friends, simple facts that need no questioning. It is utterly amazing how easy it comes to them, and Knuckles tries not to feel envy. Because these are things that rob his sleep from him, things that scramble and twist his mind into a tight knot he can not untangle. And yet, here they are, prattling on about him as if he has never sinned in his life. He has, but they make it sound like it is not something to even consider.
It's wonderful and torture at the same time. Knuckles is not new to inner turmoil, but this is something different from what he is used to. Normally, he might have some sort of clue of the correct course of action, the correct way to feel, thing to do, etcetera.
Now, he has no idea. Because he wants to believe them. So badly he wants to see what they see, because they are so passionate. They have to be, and he knows they love him, he knows that. People don't travel as far as they have if they don't like someone, and they certainly don't come this far to lie.
His heart flutters with an unnatural beat and Knuckles can't tell if it is his own sentiment, or the Emerald helping to push the emotions along. He must look exhausted, a strained smile on his rather blank features as someone shoves a plate of sausage and potatoes into his hands. Oops, he'd completely forgotten about dinner. He's pretty sure Amy is the only truly competent cook among them, so he'll have to thank her for stepping up later.
It's a good thing too, the appearance of food seems to help lift everyone's downtrodden spirits, and regardless of the pit of both hot and cold fighting in his stomach, Knuckles is happy in his friend's chaotic and uncontrollable presence. Sonic and Vector compete over who can devour more plates in the shortest amount of time – Sonic's whiplash metabolism makes his win easy.
Once Charmy finally detaches himself from Knuckles shoulder, he and Tails sequester to a corner to have some actual teenage conversation. He hears several mutters of a new console that has not released yet, whatever that means.
Knuckles does not care to get involved, although he does admit he would have liked to join in the competition, just a little. He is content to just breathe the same air as them. Plus, it is nice not to have everyone – though they mean well – crowding around him.
Espio, Amy, and Rouge all speak in hushed tones in the kitchen, and Knuckles does not need to hear to know that the topic of conversation is him. He does not care to know what they say. He's heard enough about himself for the next few lifetimes.
Eventually, night falls and everyone is more than a little tired. Knuckles apologizes for not having enough beanbags or cots for everyone, but no one seems to mind the discomfort of the floor. Amy drags his bed out of his room and settles in the living room, with everyone else.
"Just making sure you can't sneak off again," Amy says with a wink, and Knuckles smiles back at her.
No one strays too far, even Espio who values his privacy during sleep stays near. It is… Strange. To be so close to everyone. The pit in his stomach subsides for the moment, overcome with the joy of just being close to people! Tails, the usual night owl, is out like a light next to him, purring softly in his sleep.
Sonic is on his phone, but with the slight droop of his eyelids, he'll be gone too, soon enough. Vector is asleep like a brick on the floor by the kitchen, with Charmy on his chest, still struggling to get comfortable.
Rouge never sleeps before anyone else, she once confessed to him. So, seeing her in her pjs on the bed next to Amy with her headphones in is not surprising. Knuckles has only seen her truly tired a countable amount, all during the resistance, where everyone was tired. Amy rests with her head dangling off the edge of his bed, drool dripping onto the floor. Knuckles winces, her neck is going to hurt later.
Espio has taken the last beanbag, and his breathing is so subtle that Knuckles briefly worries if he's died in his sleep.
Surrounded by people who are no less than family – at least, what Knuckles understands about family – sleep comes easier than it has in weeks, not exhaustion taking consciousness from him, real, actual sleep. Deep and heavy like warm tar weighing him down. It's nice.
He dreams abstract. Purples and pinks, reds and blacks and yellows all swimming together. Each with a different sound to them, rough and loud, soft like a song. Knuckles listens intently to every one. Each so different but so, so special. Why, he is not sure, but god, they are so beautiful.
"They see what you can't, trust them," says a voice, and Knuckles knows it is her voice, Tikal. He does not see her, and he can't make out which color she is. It's confusing, and suddenly the whole world is spinning. The colors are gone, and they have taken their sound with them. And Knuckles blinks in alarm, unable to move or scream, or do much of anything.
Everything topples to the side with one lurch, nearly sickening.
Knuckles awakes to the world shaking.