One, Two, Tree

One

"One! Two! Three!"

Sally Acorn laughed as her mother lifted her up on her shoulders to the apple tree. Within her three year-old mind, there was a realization, however faint, that the queen didn't need her help to pick any apples. That she was tall enough to pluck them off the branches herself. But within the bulk of her mind was the simple joy of being lifted up to drop those apples down into the basket beside them. Of being able to spend any time with her mother at all. Of being able to walk inside the Royal Gardens of Castle Acorn, and forget that there was a war going on outside the walls.

"Well done," her mother said, as she popped her daughter down by the basket. "I think the cooks will be most grateful."

"Cooks?" Sally asked. "Aren't we having the apples ourselves?"

"Of course, my dear, but these trees aren't just for us. And besides, Chef Sidney is going to make us a nice apple pie for dinner."

"Us?" Sally asked. "You mean, like, you, me, and dad?"

Her mother remained silent. And even as she picked a pair of apples, and gave one to her daughter, Sally noticed that the shadow over her face had yet to pass.

"Not tonight, my darling. Maybe one day…"

"When?"

"One day, Sally."

"When?!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot. "I don't want apples, I want my dad!"

"Sally, be quiet."

"No! He's always fighting, or working, or-"

"Sally Acorn, you will be quiet this moment, or you'll go to bed with no supper!"

There was a retort on Sally's lips that she only just managed to bite back. Something about having a big lunch instead, or running away, or repeating what Sir Northbridge had said before one of the maids covered her ears. She bit it back, not because the frustration wasn't there, but rather than the shadow over her mother's face had spread. The sadness in her eyes shining through the gloom.

"Sorry mum."

Queen Alicia sighed, smiled, and ruffled her daughter's hair. "I know you are." She clicked her fingers, and as if out of nowhere, a servant appeared and took the basket away, headed for the palace kitchens.

That was the thing about living in a palace, Sally reflected. There were always servants, maids, cooks, gardeners, and soldiers about, ready to serve her every whim and desire. But never her parents. Her father spent most of his days outside Mobotropolis, and her mother spent most of her days in the throne room dealing with matters of state, shushing her out whenever she tried to visit. Days like this, where they could spend time together, were rare. Days where the three of them could be a family again? Those were rarer still.

Her mother took a bite of the apple. Sally followed likewise. Biting into its crisp red skin, chewing like a chipmunk (which she was, in fairness), and…

"What?"

Her mother was smiling at her.

"What?" Sally repeated.

Her mother sighed, squatted down, and after drawing out a handkerchief, wiped her daughter's mouth. "Sally Acorn," she said. "One of these days, you're going to learn how to eat properly."

"What, with knives and forks? Yuck!"

"With those," Queen Alicia said, getting back to her feet. "And with spoons, and other types of knives and forks, and with all manner of dishes, as you discuss affairs of state with all manner of visitors."

Sally's eyes fell. "That sounds boring."

Her mother sighed, and looked up at the tree. Where a pair of birds had landed, and were starting to sing. "It is, my dear, it is." She looked back at Sally and smiled. "But that's not today. And do you know why?"

"Because…" Sally drew it out as long as she could, before smiling. "Because it's our day?"

Her mother kissed her on the forehead. "Because it's our day."

Sally wrapped her hands around her mother's waist, hugging as long as she could. Wishing that the day would never end. That she'd never have to let go.

There was a time that she could barely remember when she didn't have to worry about those things. When she was learning to walk. When both her parents were there for her. Before talks of "war" and "the enemy" started popping up. She didn't know what a war was back then, and didn't really understand why it had to continue. She knew that a war was bad, and that the closer "the front" got to Mobotropolis, the badder things became. That because of the war, her father had to spend so much time on "the front," fighting against the Kingdom of Chestnut.

Why they had to fight, she didn't understand. When she'd asked her tutor about it, he'd started waffling about King Nigel of Cherrystone never respecting the border between the kingdoms, about violating the Treaty of Soldard, and that, after five minutes of using terms that she didn't understand, suddenly exclaimed that the princess had diverted his attention long enough, and that it was back to mathematics. When she'd asked her mother instead, Queen Alicia had sighed, and said that "some people are foolish, my dear. They fight, rather than think, and we all suffer for it."

"Not when I'm queen," Sally had declared. "When I'm queen, I'll be smart. I won't let there be any wars. I'll make sure that everyone's nice."

Her mother hadn't said anything. She'd just smiled, and went back to her parchments. Signing one after another. Hopefully, Sally had reflected, it was her being nice, and making sure that this war didn't go on any longer than it had to. That one day, the people of the Kingdoms of Acorn and Cherrystone would be friends again.

That had been months ago. In those months, the so-called "Great War" was still going on, as it had been since before she was born. Many things remained the same.

"Make way, make way!"

Others hadn't. As they walked across the garden, Sally heard the voice of Sir Percival. A pigeon with a sword in his waist, a baton in his hand, and five robots marching behind him. The people on the stone pathway that surrounded the gardens indeed made way for him as he led the robots down.

Sally gripped her mother's hand.

"Sally?"

She couldn't take her eyes off them. Their big metal bodies, clanking with every step. Their red visor eyes…the rifles magnetically attached to their backs…the white and grey painting of their bodies…not armoured, but built from armour themselves.

"Sally, are you alright?"

She knew it was bad form for a princess to show fear, but alongside her mother, she couldn't help it. "I don't like them," she whispered.

"The Peacebots?"

"Yeah, the peas-bots," Sally whispered. She looked into her mother's eyes. "They scare me…"

"Oh, Sally…" Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing to be afraid of. The Peacebots are programmed to serve the kingdom. They wouldn't lift a finger to hurt you."

"I don't like them," she repeated. "They're peas-bots, but they're not peas. They're not even green. And the guy who built them is so fat, and he talks funny-"

"Sally…"

"And his assistant…he barely has any hair! Like, the doctor doesn't have much hair either."

"Sally, it's not nice to comment on Doctor Kintobor's appearance."

"And what is he, anyway?" Sally asked. "Professor Moxus said that they're humans. Like, what's a human?"

"Sally, all that matters is that Doctor Kintobor is developing the technology needed for us to win the war."

"But I don't like him!" Sally exclaimed, stamping her feet. "He's a stinky poo! He's fat, and he's ugly, and-"

"Sally Elisha Acorn, you will be quiet right this minute and remember your station!"

Sally fell silent immediately. Her mother rarely raised her voice, but when she did, she knew to obey her. Furthermore, she saw her mother put a hand to her chest. As if she was struggling to breathe.

"Sally Acorn, you…" Her mother took a few long, drawn-out breaths, before continuing. "Sally, I won't hear you use such language. Not in front of me, not in front of anyone. Understand?"

"The knights use them. And other words," Sally protested. "Sir Lionel once called Sir Jackson a son of a-"

"Sally!" Alicia exclaimed, once again putting a hand to her chest. "You will…I…" She took more breaths. Slower, and deeper than before. Sally waited for the inevitable tongue lashing. But none came. No forked tongue from her mother's lips, but instead, a smile.

"Now then," Alicia said. "It's our day. And you know what we've left to do?"

"Plant the tree?"

Alicia nodded. "That's right. Plant the tree. So…" She took a breath. "So let's get to it."

Sally could swear it was her imagination, but her mother seemed to be walking slower across the grass now. Like she'd got a hundred years older or something. Which didn't make sense, because no-one lived to be a hundred. Maybe ninety-nine, but it was weird. The way her mother walked. The way the birds sounded. The echoes of clanking from further within the palace, as the Peace-bots were given on a "drill patrol," or whatever it was.

"Mum, are the robots always going to be here?" Sally whispered.

Alicia remained silent.

"It's not like I'm against science stuff," Sally said. "I mean, you gave me Nicole for my third birthday."

Alicia chuckled. "Last I heard, you accidentally uploaded a virus."

"Hey, it was a joke, and Nicole laughed," Sally said, omitting that the laughter came after Nicole's reboot. "And Sir Charles. I like him."

Alicia looked at her. "Sir Charles?"

"Yeah, that hedgehog. He's…nice."

Alicia shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Yeah. And…" Sally paused – something was telling her that her mother wanted quiet, but she'd wanted to talk to her mother about this for weeks, and this was the first time she had the opportunity. "And his nephew. He's…funny."

Alicia looked at her. "The brat who won't stop running?"

"Yeah. I mean, isn't it cool, the way he runs? And talks. And…mum?"

Alicia sat down on a bench, once again putting a hand to her chest. Once again taking long breaths.

"Mum?" Sally took her hand, her eyes widening as she felt how cold it was. "Mum, are you alright?"

"I think…" Alicia's eyes met Sally. "I think…you need better friends than that boy."

"Who? Sonic?"

"Spend too long…with the lower…classes…and they'll…wash on you…"

Sally stared. Partly at the words. Partly at how her mother had said them. "Classes?" she asked. "I have classes. But he's not in them. We're not in the same class."

"Exactly," Alicia said, getting to her feet. "So don't think about him."

Sally bit her lip. If she was told to not think of something, and remembered not to think of something, then wasn't she still thinking of the something? Was that a…what was it called…a pallydox? She wanted to ask her mum, but…

"Now then," Alicia said. She reached into her dress, and pulled out a small acorn. "Do you know what this is?"

Sally's eyes widened. "An acorn?"

"An acorn. And what type of acorn?"

"A very special acorn?"

"A very very special acorn," Alicia said. "And do you know why it's special?"

"Because we're going to plant it?"

"Yes," said Alicia. "We're going to plant it. We're going to put it in the ground, and give it lots of sunshine, and water, and love, and when you're all grown up, and have a prince or princess of your own, you're going to…" She put a hand to her chest, and with her other, handed the acorn to Sally.

"Mum?"

"Just…put it in the ground my dear."

"But mum, weren't we going to do it?"

"Mummy's a bit…tired, right now." Sally watched as the queen took one long breath, followed by a second, and then, the longest of all, a third. "Just…bury it and then we can…see…someone…"

Sally frowned. "Mum, we don't need to do it. You don't sound well."

Alicia smiled, but Sally could tell her teeth were grit beneath her lips. "Just…do it Sally. It's our…day, after all."

Sally nodded, took the acorn, and picking up a nearby spade, began to dig.

"Nice and deep Sally. Big trees grow from small acorns."

Why does it need to be deep then? Nevertheless, she continued to dig. Wondering not only about her mother, but what she'd said, about having a prince or princess of her own. Like, yeah, she got that – a lot of the books she had showed mummies and daddies having babies, and mummies and daddies had to be babies once too, right? Only when she'd asked Professor Stork where they came from, he'd said that she'd find out when she was older.

"How older?" Sally had asked.

The stork had looked her up and down, and murmured something about another thirteen to fifteen years, before letting out a squawk about saying too much and flapping off. Teaching Sally nothing about where babies came from, but that adults were weird.

Well, least I know where you come from, Sally thought, holding the acorn in her hands. Trees. She put the acorn in the hole she'd dug. And one day, you're going to be a tree too. And I'll be here with So…I mean, someone, and…

She began filling in the dirt, before getting to her feet.

"Well, all done," she declared. She turned round to look at her mother. "Whadya say we…mum?"

She rushed over.

"Mum?!"

Her mother was gripping her chest. Struggling to breathe.

"Mum, what's wrong with you?"

Alicia looked at her, and through ragged breath, whispered, "Sally…doctor…"

"Doctor Quack?"

She grabbed her hand. "Hurry…can't…heart…"

"Mum!"

Her mother collapsed, rolling off the bench and onto the grass.

"Mum, talk to me!"

People were screaming. Rushing over. Calling for the doctor.

"Mum?" Sally whispered.

Alicia took her hand in hers, and as cold as its touch was to her fur, the warmth in her smile more than made up for it.

"Don't worry, my dearest," Alicia whispered. "I'm not…going anywhere…"

Sally sniffed and hugged her. Hugged her as long as she could, before Doctor Quack and his nurses helped her onto a stretcher.

She knew her mother would be alright.

After all, she said that she wasn't going anywhere.


Two

One, Sally Acorn thought to herself, as her sword cleaved a SWATbot into separate halves. Two. Three.

There was an old saying about not bringing a sword to a bowfight. When Robotnik had taken over, that saying had changed to a laserfight. A bow would outclass a sword, and laser weapons outclassed bows. Only through a combination of stealth, speed, wits, and an incredible amount of luck, had the Freedom Fighters managed to take out Robotnik. Eleven years after his takeover of Mobotropolis, the doctor had been defeated. And now, three years after Doomsday, a D-day of a different kind was being delivered - deliverance. Where rebels from across the globe marched into Robotropolis and delivered destruction…and in no small part, received death as well.

So amid the ruins of a garden, in the shadow of steel and burnt-out trees, Sally Acorn, son of Maximillian, heir to the Kingdom of Acorn, had brought a sword to a gunfight. One forged by Rotor, despite his protestations that his prototype ring-blades would be a better choice. Despite the protests of those around her that she should be kept as far away from the fighting as possible. Gritting her teeth, she ducked and darted among the bi-pedal robots that remained in service to Snively. Moving with unnatural speed – a holdover from when she and Sonic had used the power stones three years ago. Nothing like what she'd done then, and nothing like what Sonic could do to this day, but still, fast enough.

She cleaved another SWATbot into two. Strong enough, she reflected, turning her gaze to the last one.

"Princess," it droned. "Priority-"

She brought the sword down through its steel plated head. Its red visor cracked, and died. Its body went limp. And with a grunt, she kicked the mannequin onto the dead grass. Leaving her standing around the bodies of the fallen. Alone. Victorious.

Priority, Sally reflected. Over the last three years, she'd heard the word and its designation more times than she could count. So many priorities.

She took a breath, finding solace in the cold evening air – Robotropolis wasn't as dirty as it had once been, as the Freedom Fighters had taken out one factory and power plant after another. Snively had tried to follow in his uncle's footsteps – tried, and failed. He'd tried to conquer Knothole, he'd tried to bring back Ixis Naugus, he'd tried everything his wretched little mind could conjure. Today, he'd tried to hold his inner circle and the command dome, using everything from SWATbots, to Hoverbots, to even newly-deployed Combots, to stop the Freedom Fighters. And even as she heard the sounds of battle all around her, Sally knew that he'd failed. That they'd won. Thirteen years after the fall of the kingdom to his uncle, and they'd won. They-

"Princess…"

She spun around. Another SWATbot, with its arm raised. Ready to fire.

"Priority-"

The SWATbot was cloven in two. Not by a sword held by an arm that was tiring. Rather, by a blue buzzsaw, separating head from torso. A laser cut through the air, heading up into the sky as the robot fell, before that same spinning buzzsaw smashed into the bot's head, destroying it. Bouncing off and posing, as if there was a surveillance orb around.

"Priority one," Sonic murmured. "Heh. That used to be my schtick."

Sally gave a smile.

"Also remember when your schtick was to let me do the dirty work, while you laid back and prepared a list of all the things I could do better." He gave her a look. "Also that you didn't like me going off on my lonesome."

Sally looked at her sword. "I've spent my whole life on the sidelines," she murmured, peering at the blade, seeing her visage be reflected back at her. "If this is the day we take back this city, then I wanted to do something more than just have others fight for me."

Sonic's look hadn't left. "So you charge off into the city and end up outside the command dome?"

Sally shrugged.

"That doesn't sound like you."

The princess sighed, and sheathed her blade. "Times change," she said. "And some people change with them."

"Yeah." Sonic looked at the SWATbots, the sky, then her. "Guess they do."

She smiled. "Just as long as you don't change."

Sonic didn't say anything, and she didn't waste any time in kissing him, nor any time in pulling back. The kiss was long enough to say everything she wanted to, not so long that they forgot where they were – a warzone. Stepping back, she gave Sonic a look – parts of his fur were singed, but they were eclipsed by the aura surrounding his whole body. At the start of this attack, he'd had over a dozen power rings with him. Clearly he'd used them all by now, but the after-effects remained.

"So," Sonic said, looking at Sally as well, and not least the sword she wielded, "fun as it is to see you playing knifey wifey…"

"Excuse me?"

"…but have we won yet?"

Sally didn't believe in fate, or high powers, or anything like that. But as if the universe had decided to answer her, her ear radio buzzed. Holding her 'knife' in one hand, she used the other to put a finger to her ear.

"Aunt Sally?"

She smiled. "Hey Tails. Holding up?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. Bunnie's smashed more SWATbots then I have fur, and Rotor's hacking the defence grid. He gets it down, all the bots go down with it."

"Good to hear." She glanced at Sonic, who was tapping his foot impatiently. "Not a moment too soon…"

"Yeah, definitely." There was a pause, before Tails whispered, "oh, and I've got Snidely with me."

"Say what?" Sonic exclaimed.

How did you even hear that? Sally pressed down on the radio even harder. "Say again, Tails?"

There was a scuffle on the other line. Exclamations about being unhanded, two-tailed freaks, and something about attention or asylum. It didn't really matter – she recognised the voice. That shrill, sneering voice that had haunted her dreams for thirteen years, and especially so in the last three.

"Tails?"

"Yeah, sorry. Had to break a nose. Anyway, to say again, I-"

"Tails…" Sally took a breath, fighting the urge to tell Tails to break more than just noses. "Bring him to the RV point. I…" She gripped her sword. "I want everyone to see this."

"Sure, Aunt Sally. Out."

The feed was terminated. Sally let out a sigh. It might have been imagination, but the city sounded quieter already. Not completely silent, but on its way there, the sounds of battle fading into the air. Almost as if the bots knew that Snively had been captured. As if they were more than autonomous drones, and knew there was no more reason to fight. Slowly, she turned to look at Sonic. Now no longer tapping his foot, but twisting it around his other leg, looking at the ground.

"So…" Sally said.

"So…"

"So…la?" She smirked. "Tea?"

Sonic gave her a look, but hey, at least it was eye contact. "Dunno about tea," he murmured. "Dunno if it's over either, but…"

"It's over," Sally said. She sheathed her sword. "It's finally over…"

She hoped. They thought it was over three years ago after the destruction of the Doomsday Project. But then, Snively had been at Robotnik's side from day one – back when he was Warlord Julian Kintobor, hero of the Great War, and soon, betrayer and tyrant. Three years after his defeat, and Snively hadn't revealed any assistant, or secret plan, or anything on the scale that his uncle had. That he'd held on for three years was as much due to his desperation as anything else.

"Well, let's hope it's over," Sonic said. He stretched his legs – ready to build up speed. "Well, anyway, see you around Sal. Maybe-"

"Sonic?"

He stopped, and looked at her.

"Can you…just stay, a bit?" she whispered. "Let it…sink in?"

He gave her a look. A long, hard look. She knew that he was fighting against two instincts that had driven him all his life – the urge to move, and the urge to not get too sentimental. Especially around her. Especially since they'd kissed in front of all of Knothole to see. A decade of trying to maintain a "too cool for you" attitude, and Sonic had realized the next day that he'd blown it in an instant.

"Yeah," Sonic said. "Sure…"

Truth was, she suspected that part of him was sad that it was over. That he might even miss Robotnik for being a better nemesis than Snively could ever hope to be. Some might call that selfish, the desire to continue a fight that had consumed a world and ruined countless lives, but Sally knew better. Sonic would relish finding confrontation. That didn't mean he sought to cultivate it, or draw it out. To let it grow…

She looked around what had used to be the palace gardens. At the dead grass. At the rotting trees. Things used to grow here, she reflected. Even after someone's life had reached their end here, things had grown. But the air pollution, the toxins, the neglect…

What even lives in Robotropolis?

It was over, but now, standing here, in the perpetual twilight of Robotropolis's skies, she was left to ask what happened now? Snively was defeated. With any luck, all of his armies would be stood down. But what of the robians? What of Knothole? What of the fact that by being eighteen years of age, she was, by all the laws of succession, a queen, and no longer a princess playing at war? Had Robotnik razed the city to the ground, that might have made it easier, but he hadn't. He'd used the Destroyer to twist and mutilate the former Acorn Kingdom's capital into an abomination. She looked up at the command dome – a twisted version of the royal palace. A cold steel shell, containing empty steel hallways. It…

"Sal?"

There was a saying that you couldn't go home again. Unlike not bringing a sword to a bowfight, it was a saying that appeared to be true.

"Sal, you alright?"

She sniffed and looked at Sonic. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Top of the world."

"Sal, you're crying."

She sniffed again, and wiped away a tear. "No, I'm not."

Sonic gave her a look.

"Can't be crying if there's no tears."

The look he gave her became even lookier.

"Anyway," Sally declared. She looked at the SWATbot parts she'd left in her wake. "Things to do, people to see. Besides, I've kept you here long enough. You have to-"

"Sal."

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked at him.

"Sal, I'm here as long as you need me."

She wanted to say something. Something sharp. Something witty. She'd joked for thirteen years that she was the brains of the outfit, and Sonic, at best, the brawn, but even then, she'd never managed to surpass his witticisms. For a second, she thought of something clever to say. A second later, she hugged him.

"Long as I need?" she whispered.

Sonic remained silent. But she knew she had an answer. And when they broke the embrace, she felt able to speak again.

"I used to come here you know," she murmured, as she walked across the grass. "The Royal Gardens. When I was three, my mum and I…" She took a breath. "My mum…she…well…"

"Didn't your mum die when you were three?" Sonic murmured.

She nodded. "Heart failure. Doctors said she worked herself to death – had to raise a daughter and run a kingdom." She laughed softly, its sound like ashes upon her tongue. "Still…least she never saw what became of the kingdom. How…"

Sonic put a hand on her shoulder. "Might not be my place to say, mean, Chuck's the only parent I ever knew, but…I think she'd be proud."

Sally smiled.

"I mean, we all are."

Sally put a hand on his. "You too, Sonic. You too."

He smiled. Even as she eventually took his hand off his and began to walk again.

"But the truth is…" Sally continued. "I don't know what we've even won. I mean…" She squatted down and put her hand into the grass – dry soil came up in her palm, and was blown away. "This city…it used to be our home. But now there's people living in Knothole who've never known this place as Mobotropolis. And then there's the robians. And there's everyone else. I mean, without Robotnik or Snively, do we stay together? Or do we go our own ways?"

"Hey, come on Sal, you'll figure it out."

She got to her feet. "You're giving me too much credit."

"Hey, you overthrew Robuttnik and Snidely. How much more credit do you need?"

"I think that credit's shared by quite a few people," she murmured. She looked around. "But everything's dead here. Dead, or dying."

"No it ain't."

Sally scoffed. "Look around you Sonic. There used to be a garden here, but-"

"Sal, come on. That tree's doing fine."

She looked at Sonic, ready to deliver a stinging rebuke. Instead, she followed his finger. A tree, much shorter than the others. Scraggly. Its trees withered. But still alive, which was more than she could say for the rest of the garden.

"So there's one tree," Sally murmured. "I…"

Wait.

She stared at the tree.

It can't be.

In a burst of super-speed, she zoomed over. Standing under its branches. Staring at its trunk.

"Is it…?" She put a hand against its trunk. "Is that you?" she whispered.

"Um, Sal? Are you talking to the tree?"

Memories, unbidden, but not unwanted, came rushing into her head. As the tree drew water from its roots, so too did memory be drawn by her mind.

"Cause if you are, can you pass on that I think it's got great potential, but needs a facelift?"

Memories of a time long ago. Simple. Innocent. Where a child and her mother planted a tree together. How the mother told the child that big trees grew from small acorns. How that child had once quivered in fear of the machines that now lay broken around her.

"Sal? Is, um…the tree talking to you, like, right now?" Sonic asked.

She looked at the hedgehog and laughed. Thinking of what the mother had told the child about not mingling with the lower classes. How, as much as the child loved the mother, and loved her even now, mothers weren't always right about everything.

"Sal?"

The princess, nay, queen, laughed, and returned her gaze to the tree. "Yes Sonic, it is talking to me. And you know what it's saying?"

"Enlighten me."

She put a hand to the trunk. "That one day, this city can be beautiful again. That one day, this city will be home to us all. That…from small things, little things can grow." She looked at Sonic. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Um…" Sonic trailed off. "Sorry. Wasn't sure if I should say something deep, or something smart."

Sally laughed, and kissed him.


Tree

"One! Two! Tree!"

Sonia shrieked with delight as Sally lifted her up to take the tree's acorn. Putting her daughter down on the grass, Sally looked down at her, as she held up the acorn for the queen to see.

"Tree!" Sonia exclaimed. "You said tree, instead of three!"

"I did." Sally smiled. "You're so smart."

There might come a time where, in her later years, Sonia would look back at this moment and cringe. Still, she was only three years old, and the intricacies of language were still new to her. As were the wonders of fruit-bearing trees.

"We're going to plant it, right?" Sonia asked. "Out in the country?"

"Of course."

"And it's gonna grow into a big tree like this one?"

"Over time, my dear."

"And dad's gonna be with us?"

A shadow passed over Sally's face, and remained there as she chose her words carefully. "Perhaps," she murmured. "If he's back in the city…"

Sonia's eyes fell. "So that's a no then."

"He might be there, but-"

"Might, might might!" Sonia exclaimed. "You always say 'might.' Dad might be with us. You might have time to play with me. But you never do! Neither of you do!"

Sally, very slowly, very softly, whispered, "I'm here, aren't I Sonia?"

Her daughter tossed the acorn back to her. "Whatever, mum."

Sally put a hand to her chest – her heart was beating faster than she cared for, and she hadn't even gone on one of her runs. Moments where the lingering effects of the power stones would kick in, and she would, for a moment, taste super speed. Thirteen years after being exposed to the stones' power, and she could, every so often, seize it for herself. Before being dragged back into Castle Acorn of Mobotropolis, attending to matters of state.

She'd spent years learning how to lead a resistance movement. Now, ten years after retaking the city, she was still learning how to run a kingdom. And, she reflected, as she watched Sonia plop down on one of the garden benches, be a mother. Wondering what to do. All the edicts she'd made, all the treaties she'd signed, and somehow, none of it mattered right now. Choosing this course of action was as important as any of that. Borders and treaties changed. But so did people. And while her duty lay with her kingdom, it also lay with her family.

So she sat down beside Sonia. Letting silence linger between them as her daughter shifted along the bench.

"I know you're angry," Sally murmured.

Sonia didn't say anything. She just started fiddling with the acorn.

"When I was your age, when my parents weren't there, I was angry too."

Sonia didn't say anything. But she did stop the fiddling at least.

"Sonia, you…" She trailed off, wondering what to say. She almost wished her daughter would yell at her. She'd spent the last ten years yelling with so many people, it was almost easier than this kind of conversation. Struggling for words, she whispered, "we are going to plant it you know."

"Whatever," Sonia murmured.

"We are," Sally said. "And do you know why?"

Sonia looked at her.

"Because that acorn comes from a tree that my mother and I planted." Taking her daughter's hand, she guided her arm so it was pointed at the oak tree. Twenty-six years ago, my mother and I planted that tree in this very garden. She said that it was very special, and one day, I'd have a prince of princess of my own."

Sonia smirked. "No princes mum, I don't want a brother."

Sally looked away – sooner or later, the kingdom would know what she and Doctor Quack did, but for now, she only had one child to worry about. One who was physically her spitting image when she was three years old, but every so often, would go wild. Running, jumping, climbing, and eating copious amounts of chilli dogs.

"So that tree," Sonia whispered. "It's from the old garden? Back from before Robuttnik took over? Before he turned this city into Robotropolis?"

Sally gave a sad smile. "Why do you think that tree is bigger than all the others?"

Sonia looked around – from apple trees, to peach trees, to flowers, and the tiny drones treating them.

"And it lasted that long?" Sonia whispered.

"That long." Sally pulled her daughter close and put her arm over her shoulders.

"So it's some kinda…super tree?"

"Well I planted it, so of course it is."

Sonia laughed. "That's dumb, mum."

Sally smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Maybe."

Technically, there was no 'maybe' about it. That the tree had survived at all was a miracle, but then, lots of things had survived Robotnik's destruction. More than she and the Freedom Fighters had thought possible, given how quickly nature had recovered over the last decade. And Mobotropolis itself had been no exception – ten years of tearing down Robotnik's madness, and rebuilding, taking the best of his technology, and using it in service of the world, rather than against it. Electricity for the entire city using fusion. Small drones tending to the gardens, retrofitted from his surveillance orbs. And transports, equipped with hydrogen fuel cells from which they could travel from one side of Mobius to the other in less than a day.

Robotnik had left a legacy, Sally reflected. Some of it had even brought benefits. But lest history judge him with too much lenience, she reminded herself of one of her first acts as queen. Flying to where had once stood the Kingdom of Cherrystone. Where, once the people had laid down their arms at the Great War's end, Robotnik had turned his legions of SWATbots upon them. A city razed to the ground, its people butchered, or brought in for robotization. She put a hand to her chest, and closed her eyes. Robotnik could never be forgiven. Whatever amount of forgiveness she might afford was reserved for his nephew.

"Mum?"

She opened her eyes and looked at her daughter.

"Why's dad hardly ever here?"

Sally sighed. "Sonia, you know that-"

"No, I don't!" She was breathing heavily, and Sally feared she was about to have what her father called 'a hedgehog moment.' "He's hardly ever here, he hardly ever sees me, and…" Sonia sniffed. "Doesn't he love me?"

"Sonia…"

"Doesn't he care about us? I mean, when he's here, he seems to, but that's hardly ever. I…" She trailed off, and Sally watched her daughter wipe her eye. Hesitating for only a moment (she didn't want to mollycoddle after all), she put her arm round her and drew her in.

"Your father loves you Sonia," Sally said. "But…"

"But?"

She sighed. "It's a big world, Sonia. Robotnik ruled it for eleven years, and his nephew tried to rule it for another three."

"Yeah, but that was ten years ago."

"It was. But there's always something, Sonia. Places to see. People to save. Long as there's any one person on Mobius who needs help, your father's going to want to save them." She gave Sonia a small smile. "Sometimes he just forgets that means you as well."

Sonia didn't look reassured. What she did look like was terrified, if only for a moment. Not because of what her mother had said, Sally realized, but what she had seen.

"Sir Charles."

The robotic hedgehog chuckled. "Come on Sally, how long have we known each other? Call me Chuck."

Sally laughed. "Long enough to call you Chuck, yes. But I've been queen long enough to have to call you other things."

Chuck scoffed. "What's the point in being queen if you can't do what you want?" He squatted down and looked at Sonia. "And how's the princess doing today?"

Sonia hid behind her mother's leg.

"Shy type eh? Well, enjoy it while it lasts." He stood back up and looked at Sally. "One day the little tykes are sweet as sugar, next, they're bounding around like monkeys."

Or running around like hedgehogs, Sally reflected. She held her tongue though – Chuck's nephew was AWOL, not him. And Sonia was the one who was being rude. She moved her leg, trying to nudge Sonia out into the open, but instead, she continued to hide.

"Anyway," Chuck said. "Wanted you to know that there'll be a report on your desk by day's end." He gave a small smile. "A special report."

"Special?" Sally inquired.

"Oh, special enough to tell you that it's special." Chuck looked around, before whispering, "so special that we might have cracked de-robotization."

Sally put a hand to her heart – it was the only way to steady its beating.

"Course, got to work out the kinks," Chuck said, stepping back and speaking normally. "And we also have to count on Snively pulling his weight."

"He's pulled his weight for ten years, Chuck. Cut him some slack."

Chuck frowned. "I'll cut him slack when he helps me finish the de-roboticizer. After that, we can cut him so much slack that he'll be cut loose." He brushed his ears, likely to stop the steam coming out of them. "But if not, then at least I have a little twerp to torture for the rest of my days."

Sally decided not to tell Chuck that "torture" was a word that she didn't want in Sonia's lexicon yet. Likewise, she didn't inquire as to how long those days would be. Regardless, he bowed, she bowed, and as Chuck walked off, finally, Sally turned to her daughter.

"Sonia, that was very rude you know."

Sonia let go of her leg but didn't say anything.

"He's your great-uncle, not to mention a brilliant scientist."

"I don't like him," Sonia whispered. "He scares me."

Sally sighed. "Sonia, we've been over this. The robians-"

"I know mum, I know. 'They're just like us.' 'Judge someone based on their soul, not on their steel.' 'Within us all, beats the same heart.'" She looked down at the grass. "Just…y'know…"

Sally did know. Ten years, and she knew as well as anyone. Defeating Robotnik was one thing. Defeating Snively, another. But when it came to the robians, it was a rift that had refused to heal. The Freedom Fighters had slowly, but steadily managed to restore their free will through power ring energy. But developing a de-roboticizer, one in which the effects would be permanent, was another. Chuck had tried, Rotor had tried, Tails, who'd grown into a mechanical genius, had tried. And Snively, confined to Castle Acorn, and marched into a lab six days a week, had tried, even if some doubted that. Ten years of trying, and so far, a de-roboticizer had yet to manifest itself. And with every passing day, the rift between robians and mobians, between skin and steel, remained.

There was an unease, Sally reflected. These people, through no fault of their own, had been turned into mechanical slaves. Ripped away from friends and family, while the lucky ones fled to Knothole, or other corners of the world. Apart from some fringe groups, most people knew that the robians were victims, that they'd done nothing wrong. But prejudice died hard. Prejudice beget prejudice. So it was why Sally always welcomed Chuck's visits, because there was a chance that Sonia might become queen and have to deal with "the robian question." So far, however…well, Sonia could go either way. And as for her brother that would be born in eight months' time…

She put a hand to her heart. Twenty-nine years old, and she felt twice that age. She'd had a childhood of war, rebellion, and rule. For all the disadvantages the robians might have, they didn't have to worry about ageing. Wear and tear, yes, but not ageing. In that, at least, they had an advantage.

"Mum?"

Or maybe the doubters were correct, and there'd be a second robot apocalypse on their hands. In this very garden, at Sonia's age, she'd been terrified by SWATbots. Who was to say that the robians wouldn't take matters into their own hands?

"Mum?" Sonia repeated, tugging at her dress. "Hello? Mobius to mum?"

Who was to say that robians wouldn't do something stupid, or mobians for that matter? She was, Sally reflected. She hadn't been the strongest Freedom Fighter, or the fastest, or the fiercest, but damn it, she'd led them, and she was going to lead her kingdom in such a way that it didn't go off the deep end.

"Mum! Are you listening?"

"Yes, Sonia, I…" Sally trailed off, putting a hand to her chest. "I…"

"Mum?" Sonia's voice was softer, even as she kept tugging at her dress. "Mum?"

Sally slowly lowered herself onto the grass. Still clutching her chest.

"Mum, are you alright?"

"Sonia, I…" Her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes closed, and remained so. "I…"

She lay on the ground.

"Mum, wake up!"

Stayed there…eyes shut…breathing shallow…

"Mum, please…mum…"

Letting the darkness take her…oblivion take her…the words slip away…

"Mum, please…mum, get up…mum, please, you have to-"

"Got you!"

Sonia let out a yelp as Sally sprung up. It was a yelp that turned into laughter as Sally tickled her daughter's belly, holding her on her lap.

"You scared me!" Sonia exclaimed. "I thought that you…that you had…"

Sally kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Not today, my darling. Not for a long time."

She hadn't told Sonia what happened to her grandmother. Hadn't told her that what she'd done was for her own sake as much as anything. She'd lost her mother at three, and her father at five. One day, Sonia would know. But not now. Not today.

"When though?" Sonia asked. "When will you go?"

Sally, after a moment's silence, whispered, "I don't know, Sonia. No-one does." Seeing the look on her daughter's face, the fear in her eyes, Sally took her arm and guided it to the tree. "But do you see that?"

"The tree where we took the acorn?"

"Yes. I planted that tree when I was your age. And it's still here, after all these years. Still growing strong. Still providing us shade, and the birds homes, and having little acorn children of its own. So as long as that tree stands strong, I'll be here."

"And dad as well?"

Sally hugged her. "Him as well."

The pair got to her feet. Sally suspected that, deep down, Sonia knew the truth. That everything came to its end eventually. That there was no way her life was tied to a tree that she'd planted as a child. That one day, be it by the sword, or the decay of time, her mother would return to the earth as well. Children, Sally reflected, weren't as naive as they portrayed themselves to the world. Some of them had to grow up fast. And a year from now, her daughter would begin private tuition. Learning how to lead Mobotropolis back into the light. For mobians, for robians, for all who called this world home. One day.

But not today, Sally reflected, as she and Sonia began a game of chase. Today, at least, was theirs.

This day, upon the grass.

Under the trees.

Growing.


A/N

So in case you're wondering, idea for this came from an article that was about using drones for reforestation. Basically a "nice pun, I'll take it" moment.