here's a piping hot chapter three, fresh outta the oven! tbh i'm not 100% happy with this chapter but. i've already edited it too much and i just had to post it and move on ig.
chapter warning for minor death mentions
III.
rekindle (rēˈkind(ə)l)
[verb]
to revive (something that has been lost).
Amy groaned wearily up at the ruthless sun, beads of sweat dragging down her face; her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and her shoulders were probably well beyond sunburned by now. The shady tree canopies above did little to shelter her from the harsh daylight, and while she appreciated the little relief it did provide, she still found the heat to be miserable.
The strawberry colored hedgehog leaned back against the towering tree trunk behind her, sighing dreamily as she felt some of the tension slip away from her strained back muscles. She let her eyes flutter shut for a moment, trying to relish in the moment of ease.
"C'mon, Amy, it's not that hard. Sit up, let's try again."
She peeled open her jade orbs with subdued indignation. "We've been trying for the past hour. I think it's time to call it quits."
Across from her, the echidna's reserved look slipped into a frown. "You're just thinking too hard about it. You start focusing on the energy, but then you over-think and get too tense. You just need to relax."
"Shouldn't we be focusing on our actual mission? We still haven't found the Master Emerald," the girl said in place of an actual reply, glaring pointedly at him.
"We aren't supposed to check in with Rouge for another fifteen minutes or so. It's still early in the day. We have time."
Amy sagged a little against the tree, puffing out a breath of air in exhaustion. "Please, Knuckles, I'm tired."
The guardian's eyes softened a little, and he scooted forward, the damp soil beneath his legs staining his crimson fur. "It shouldn't be tiring if you just relax—actually, soon it'll come so natural to you it'll feel invigorating. C'mon, if you want me to train you, you need to master this first. Just—Just try one more time."
She sighed, but straightened her posture and criss-crossed her legs again in resignation.
Closing her eyes, the bubblegum warrior exhaled deeply through her mouth, attempting to lower her heart rate again. She tried blocking out any background noise—the distant chatters of the woodland critters, the gentle bristling of the trees in the wind, the trickling of a stream nearby—and honed her senses in on the feel of her chest rising and falling, and the sound of oxygen rushing in and out of her airways. She was able to let go of some of the tightness in her muscles, as she felt herself sink a little into the earth beneath her and become more grounded.
Vaguely, Amy could feel one of the large mitts of the echidna press into her back, steady and strong, and the other ease onto her stomach, light and gentle.
"There you go," Knuckles murmured into her ears, "Just breathe."
The hedgehog inhaled again through her mouth, feeling her lungs fill up, and exhaled through her nostrils, feeling it all glide out of her.
After moment, the carmine hero continued, "I'm gonna give you a little burst of energy again. I just want you to focus on that energy, just feel it. Don't try to interact with it yet, just let it do the work."
Amy straightened a little in anticipation, expecting a heavy push. She was surprised when just a small needle of energy slipped into her chest, though, settling for a moment in the pit of her stomach before expanding out and trickling across her body. She took another breath, her chest tickling a bit from the Chaos that wormed around inside of her. It felt warm and cautious, as though unsure of how to interact with her. As she exhaled again, she tried to let go of everything else, letting the Chaos merge with her subconscious. It did so tentatively.
"Good, good. Now you just need to open up your mind a little. Feel the energy all around us, in every living thing, thriving and breathing. Just… Take it slow. Ease into it," Knuckles paused. "And—when you're ready—try to focus some into the palms of your hands."
She hesitated for a second, then let the small bit of Chaos within her go, seeping steadily from her very pores and mingling with the energy in the air surrounding her. She could feel it, almost see it beneath her closed eyes, permeating through the air and pouring back into her with every breath.
And as she let herself go a little more, she could feel it's presence even further away, heavier and thicker in the air. It ran along with the nutrients that traveled across plant stalks, and weaved through the fur of little rodents that roamed the woods. It radiated across the planet alongside the sun's rays, a forever present cloud of energy that was everywhere all at once. It was so powerful, and she could feel it pressing against her, waiting for the moment when her soul died and truly became one with the Chaos as well.
The Chaos was everywhere. Her head started to pound as she submerged herself deeper, forgetting the simple things like swallowing, like breathing, like living. Discarded them. They were distractions. She could feel the Chaos burning into her skin, tugging at her very soul, wanting her to just lose herself, to lose everything, to—
"…Hey, Amy, Amy!"
The hedgehog gasped for breath, falling back as her eyes snapped open in horror. Sensations like feeling and hearing came back in pieces, and for a while everything was too blurry, too muffled, too numb. For a few moments, she just sat there, blinking rapidly and heaving her labored breaths. There was a large blob of red right in front of her, but it took a while for her mind to catch up and process what it was.
"—Shit, are you-? Are you alright? Just—Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths. In and out."
Knuckles, she heard dimly from the back of her head. She was with Knuckles. In the woods. It was early morning. The sun was out. It was hot.
She tried to find words, but her tongue was cotton and her throat wouldn't work right. Her friend eyed her worriedly, rubbing her arm in comfort. Amy leaned into the touch tiredly.
"Don't talk, just breathe," he told her, violet eyes pooling with concern.
She nodded—at least, she thought she did. Her strength was still struggling to come back to her.
"I told you take it slow. You were processing it all too fast, it was too much for you," Knuckles said, accusingly, although he really just sounded more sympathetic than mad.
The bubblegum girl swallowed thickly, startled at how dry her throat suddenly felt.
And as she relaxed, the jittery sensation tugging at her gut began to dissipate. The echidna never left her side as her muscles turned to jelly, and the last remnants of Chaos filtered out of her system. He was here. Knuckles had always been here for her—especially since the war started, and he started training her. They had to be there for each other; nobody else could.
They sat in a deep silence for a few minutes, as Amy's breathing started to return back to normal, and Knuckles held her comfortingly. Her head still pounded, and she found it surprisingly helpful to stare into his gentle gaze to ease the pain. It was strangely calming, to just know that he wouldn't leave her side.
After a while, she tried working her jaw, and spoke when she felt she could. "… So, can I take that break now?"
He chuckled. "Yeah."
They stared at each other a little longer, though, neither willing to withdraw from how strangely close they were to each other.
And she wasn't really sure what it was, but Amy felt this new feeling stirring in her chest, light and fluttery yet so heavy and longing. She found herself unable to object when he started to lean in closer and their lips locked into place.
It… It felt good. She could feel his body heat, pressing against her, his hands gentle as they slithered around her arms and gripped her lightly. She moaned a little into his mouth, her head going fuzzy from the torrent of dopamine pumping through her body. His lips were surprisingly soft, if not a little dry, and they worked slowly at hers.
But then he pulled away in a hasty motion, and she slowly opened her eyes again in a hazy confusion. And then she snapped back into reality, and withdrew in shock, jade orbs wide and cheeks hot from embarrassment.
"Oh," she stammered, "Oh, I didn't, uh—"
Knuckles looked equally flustered, and he scooted further away. "I, yeah, um…"
"It was just…" she floundered helplessly for some sort of reasoning. Anything. "… Just heat of the moment. W-We're just really tired, and, um, it just. Happened."
"… Right."
"Right."
The awkwardness was corporeal, and it was suffocating.
After a moment, Knuckles scrambled onto his feet. "Well. Um. How about we just call Rouge, and—"
He stopped, freezing up and narrowing his eyes.
Amy frowned, standing up as well. "… And, what? Knuckles, what is it?"
In response, he put his hand to his lips, and beckoned vaguely in the direction ahead of him.
She folded her ears back in apprehension, turning to face that way. She couldn't see anything. And she almost started to speak again, when the distant hum of revving motors filled her ears, and her heart dropped a little. "Oh."
Her heart dropped even more to hear even an additional buzzing from a second source, up in the sky. The noise was becoming increasingly intense as the unseen foes approached.
Forgetting their camp supplies, their walkie-talkies, and the Chaos meditations, Knuckles grabbed Amy's hand and ran.
Despite the throbbing pain all around him, despite the stupid apple that seemed to mock him from across the clearing, he felt himself freeze up and his heart stop upon hearing movement in the foliage off to the right.
Without hesitation he picked up the wispon by his feet, springing up off the log he sat on and making his way to the thick wall of underbrush. Whatever was in it was moving fast, and made no effort to muffle the noise of snapping branches and ruffling leaves that trailed behind it. He aimed the weapon, shaped like a bulky pistol that was painted a fiery red, and poised his finger over the trigger.
For a moment he almost thought maybe it was just some animal roaming about, that he was being foolish. And then a red mobian leapt out, frazzled and frantic, and stopped just before the weapon that was conveniently pointed right at his face.
It was a wolf, tall and lanky and relatively young. He fashioned a pair of glasses, large and rectangular, loosely fit on his muzzle; one of the frames was fractured. The canine also wore some hefty, sand green boots, and gloves of the same color. There was a tan sash and belt strapped around his torso, like he was some sort of rebel soldier from those old movies.
He mused to himself that the guy probably was one, considering the circumstances nowadays.
There was a beat of silence, before the crimson wolf held up his hands in surrender, shaking a bit from probably just adrenaline, maybe fear.
(From the way the stranger gasped for breath and seemed to have been in a rush, he would have guessed the former. Although anybody would be scared from being held at gunpoint.)
"H-Hey," the newcomer stuttered, still shaking like a leaf. His golden orbs were trained mostly on the nozzle of the gun, but they occasionally flickered up to the one who aimed it at him. "Look, I'm not the enemy here, I promise, I-I just ran into some of those creepy robots a-and—oh. Oh, wait, if you're with Eggman, I swear I just—I—"
He almost felt a twinge of sympathy. This guy was just a scared civilian, no doubt. (The sash he wore looked older than the wolf himself, and it probably didn't carry any useful supplies or ammunition. In fact, he'd bet this guy had never even held a gun.)
Nevertheless, he kept his aim steady.
But the wolf stalled for a second. Blinked. Furrowed his brows. "… Wait, you—you're just a kid, aren't you?"
Something cold and hard sank in his gut, and he snarled. "No I'm not. I—I'm almost fifteen."
Way to go, idiot. That'll definitely help your case.
The wolf let his lips twitch up into a grin, and a fang poked out of the corner of his mouth. "I'm pretty sure that still makes you a kid."
He narrowed his eyes threateningly, and tightened his grip on the wispon in his hands. That seemed to wipe off the amusement on the stranger's face pretty quickly. "What do you want?" he bit out.
"N-Nothing! It's just…" the red male's eyes suddenly became misty, and a vague frown marred his muzzle. "… I just lost all my friends, a-and those killer robots chased me out of the city, and… And I don't have anywhere else to go."
His grip on the gun subconsciously loosened.
The wolf smiled uneasily. "I-I mean, it looks like you're all alone out here, too, right? Surely you could use a friend?"
"I'm fine."
"… Where are your parents?" the canine pressed, hesitantly, (and, shit, suddenly his arm was shaking and he couldn't hold the wispon steady anymore) "Or—or your friends? A sister, or brother?"
At the last word he felt something icy and bitter stab into his heart, and he bit his lip to try and restrain the burning sensation of welling moisture in his eyes. "Stop. Talking."
The wolf stiffened. "O-Okay! Yeah, uh, no problem."
They stood in silence for a moment, before he pinched the bridge of his nose and finally lowered the weapon. He bobbed his head in some vague direction off to the left. "Just go."
But the stranger wavered. "A-Are you sure?"
He glowered at the wolf. "What."
The wolf rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I mean… Maybe we could, uh. Help each other out? Clearly we're both on our own, and, um. It's better stick together, what with the way things are nowadays, right?"
He didn't really have anything to say. H just continued eyeing the wolf warily, and rose a brow in bemusement.
The older male held out a hand, and grinned nervously. "I'm Gadget."
He stared at the hand. Back up at the wolf. Back down at the hand.
… What the hell. "I'm T—" and he stopped himself, because he wasn't quite sure he was ready to hear somebody calling him that name just yet. "… Miles." He never accepted the handshake, just eyed it impartially.
After a moment, Gadget dropped his hand back to his side. "Nice to meet you, Miles."
The teenager nodded uncertainly, before turning his back to the wolf and heading back to his log. He grabbed his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. While over there, his sky blue eyes almost caught on the apple, still simmering in the summer heat just a ways away, but refused to let himself linger on those thoughts. Besides, maybe this wolf guy would provide some distraction from the bad feelings (the guilt, that always seemed to reemerge from the crevices of his mind, no matter how hard he shoved it away).
Clearing his throat and turning back to Gadget, he noticed the wolf was staring at his… extra tail a little strangely, and his words got stuck in his throat for a moment, expecting nasty insults. But the red mobian just disregarded it after a second, and smiled at him.
"So, uh," the wolf started, unsurely, "Do you have, like, any sort of shelter?"
Miles shrugged after a moment. "Yeah."
Gadget looked almost painfully uncomfortable, and his smile was tight. "Um, could we…? Could we go there?"
The younger boy narrowed his gaze in scrutiny, and the wolf squirmed uncomfortably under it. "Are you gonna ambush the place with your secret gang of bandits and steal my stuff if I take you there?"
"No! Of course not!" Gadget exclaimed, holding up his hands defensively. "I-I told you, I lost everyone I know. And I'd never do that anyways, I swear. It's just… Really hot out here, and—and those robots might, uh, might come back soon."
Miles eyed him curiously for a brief moment, before starting to head back into the foliage, towards Westopolis. "C'mon."
"You—" the wolf startled, "You live in the city?! How? It's swarmed with robots, you can't—"
"Just follow my lead," the teen said, beckoning for Gadget to follow. He added on for good measure, "I'll protect you."
The canine's face reddened, and he bowed his head. "I don't-! … Um. Thanks."
Miles snickered, and the pair made their way towards the city.
Eventually, he had just sort of lost count of how many days he'd been here.
He gave up after around four months. And not too much time could have passed since then, but every day was still relentless and they dragged on too long for him to bear. It was getting harder for him to retain any optimism. Retain any hope that they were still looking for him.
And, really, he couldn't blame them for giving up. Because they probably did. He was a lost cause. And if what Infinite told him was true, then they all had bigger problems to focus on, like staying alive and saving the world. It'd be a waste of precious resources to keep looking for him.
(It still kind of hurt, though.)
He was just… Tired. So tired. And some days all he wanted to do was just close his eyes and give up. Stop breathing. Stop trying to mend the new wounds he gained each day.
But if he was anything, he was stubborn. And there was this faint glimmer of hope in the deepest depths of him that still pushed through. Told him to never cave to the beatings, or the torture.
It was probably the engagement ring that kept that glimmer alive. After the hours of pummeling, and unnecessary surgeries, and water boarding, it still remained smooth and polished, snugly fit on his finger. He'd admire it for hours, stare deeply into the ruby gem embedded into it; it made him forget about his insomnia, about the tears drying on his muzzle. The ring told him stories of what could have been. It told him stories of gentle kisses, of a honeymoon, of growing old together.
A real shame he'd never get to have that, now.
But he could still dream.
When the jackal entered his cell, with a few Egg Pawns tailing behind, he didn't even acknowledge them. He didn't care much where they were going to drag him off to, at this point. He faintly wondered if they were finally just going to off him.
Strangely enough, though, they didn't try to drag him out of the cell this time. Instead, they stabbed his arm with a needle that made his muscles get tingly and his head become cloudy.
It was a pleasant feeling, really, considering how it numbed the horrible wound on his arm. It had been caked in blood, constantly filtering out of the gashes for the past fifteen minutes, spilling into a warm puddle of the carmine ooze beneath him. Metal Sonic had gotten a little out of control in his last beating, and his steel talons had dug a little too deep into his flesh.
This injury was one of the more serious ones, and he'd probably bleed out soon. Normally Eggman stitched him right up, because they couldn't have their little toy break, but the injection of drugs? Now that was different. Typically they wanted him conscious for the operation. It was probably more fun for them that way.
Maybe this is their way of finally just killing me, he mused to himself as his vision grew dark around the edges.
No, it couldn't be. It was too merciful.
Sonic was lost to a numbing darkness before he could think anything else.
…
His body found bliss in the brief period he was finally able to rest.
…
And then he woke up again.
With a weary groan from the back of his throat, Sonic began to peel open his sunken eyes. He was greeted with an uncomfortably bright light shining in his face, and grimaced at it for a second before adjusting.
His body felt weird and floaty. His nerves were slowly awakening from their slumber, and he had pins and needles dancing across his entire form. Vaguely, he registered that his entire right side ached uncomfortably, and that there was this burning sensation quickly becoming more apparent in his right shoulder.
Hissing in pain, the hedgehog tried to shift a little and look at his arm, to see what the problem was, only finding that it made more pain flare up in his side.
But before he could try again, the speedster froze suddenly when he heard a voice from just outside the room. It sounded dull and automated; an Egg Pawn, probably.
"… Yes, sir, the operation was successful. The sedatives should last approximately fifty-four more minutes… Yes, it was correctly installed. The remote controls have already been shipped out to both of your locations. They should arrive in…"
He tuned out the bot, disinterested in hearing the rest of what it had to say. He was still stuck on its previous words. What the hell happened to him?
Vision now much more well adjusted, the blue blur was able to finally look at his arm, to hopefully get a good idea of how bad it was.
And he nearly gagged.
It was… gone. Missing. Torn off of his body.
And in its place was a cybernetic arm, composed of a shiny, violet steel that glinted a little in the lamp's lighting. Bile stirred in his stomach and started crawling sickeningly up his esophagus.
Sonic looked down at the rest of his body. He was strapped to a table with leather bindings around his wrists and ankles. Off to the left was a small stand that held various surgical tools. The cold feeling of dread sunk harder into his gut as reality started to set in.
They'd really done it. They amputated his arm off, and—and made him half-fucking-machine.
He took a moment to lift his gaze up to the ceiling, to steady his breathing and let his stomach settle. Using his left thumb, his normal thumb, he rubbed easy circles into the gold ring around his finger. He forced out a trembling sigh, closing his eyes for a second. He could do this; he was fine. He was Sonic the Hedgehog, for fuck's sake, and he could adapt. He had to.
Tentatively, the blue blur made the mental effort to flex his fingers. There was a miniscule delay, but surely enough, the metal fingers moved as he wanted them to. He almost felt relief, because hey, at least he still had an arm; regardless, he was still nauseas at the idea of what had just happened to him. Had those gashes in his arm really been that bad?
But as his mind reeled and his stomach churned uneasily, this… idea struck him. This stupid, ridiculous idea.
Because, supposedly, he wasn't going to wake up for another fifty or so minutes. Which meant they were going to leave him here, somewhat unguarded, for that span of time. Because, supposedly, there was no need to guard him. Supposedly, he was unconscious, and they didn't have to worry about him for the time being.
Despite the trauma of his arm, the dreary numbness that still enveloped most of his body, and the fact that he'd been held captive for months, Sonic felt a wicked grin spread across his face.
He wondered how strong his new arm was. And with a twist of his wrist, a yank upwards, and a satisfying tear of thick leather, he quickly got his answer. Frantically, he used the prosthetic limb to tear off the cuff on his fleshy wrist, and promptly did the same for his ankles.
There was this fluttery sensation in his chest that was just indescribable as the hedgehog stared down at himself.
He was free.
He was free from his bonds, from his cage, from his imprisonment. He could walk out right now, and nobody could stop him. Inhaling deeply, his system became flooded with newfound adrenaline. He could practically taste the fresh air and the beaming sunlight, just outside, calling to him.
Without wasting another second, Sonic leapt off the table, shoved the door open, and ran out into the hall in a magnificent feat of alacrity. And while sirens began to wail obnoxiously in his ears, and his vision was overtaken by flashing red lights that flickered that throughout the facility, he didn't falter once as he tore down the maze of monochrome hallways.
In fact, for the first time in months, he laughed.
sonic's still alive n kicking! and he's finally gonna escape (assuming he makes it out) !
plus, sparks are flying between amy & knux! and Sad Apple Guy has been revealed to be miles, a grumpy kid with two tails (wink wink nudge nudge)
i also just wanna note: the school year has officially started up for me :/ which means that while i'm gonna try to maintain the weekly schedule i've got going, there's a high chance updates are gonna slow down in the future (but no worries, i'm not gonna abandon this fic!)
