List: Darkspine Sonic759, Satora-wolf, Sonic5521, Soul Pieces, SonicWareInc., and Sonic Speed Blue Blur 23!

Thanks for the reviews guys! Anywho, this drabble was inspired by the fairly new movie, "Ramona and Beezus", which I sadly don't own. In the movie, and I'm assuming books, Ramona and her father do the exact same thing I have Samantha and Sonic do together. Those who've seen the movie probably already know what the chapter will be about from the chapter's name, haha. Anyway, enjoy, and onwards, march!

Chapter thirty-two

The Longest Picture

For usually being a cheerful and carefree child, Samantha was completely going against her nature just by frowning. But of course, if she found reason to not smile, it was a good reason. After all, she was known for her smiles and the joy she found in life.

Sighing sadly, the child glared down at herself. She was currently wearing her pajama top full of kittens, and sweats that were too big for her, both in width and length. Hand-me-downs usually didn't bother her, for they usually kept her warm on the cold nights, being too big and bulky on her frail form. But at the moment, they only made her angrier, for they were a constant reminder of the predicament she was in, being at home and what not. The blanket wrapped tightly about her had the exact same effect.

To the left of the couch she was currently sitting on was an end table, full of photos of the family and an empty plastic container, known as 'the throw-up pan' in the Hedgehog family. It had already been washed by her father once today, the toilet being ten seconds too far away for her in her sickly state. And she even wanted to be in school today. It was art day, for crying out loud!

She groaned then, burying her head into the soft pillow her father had provided before leaving her alone to go make a warm drink for her in the kitchen. It was odd for her Dad to be caring for her when she was sick. In fact, even at the tender age of eight Samantha knew her Dad wasn't too comfortable with being 'the nurse' for the day. Amy, her mother, was usually the miraculous healer in the family, her affectionate hugs, tender smiles and warm herbal tea with a spoonful of honey doing wonders. But of course, her Dad had no choice but to care for her; it was his day off, and her mother had needed to go shopping for groceries. Samantha felt bad for her Dad, in that his day off was officially ruined from the stank of vomit and groans that came all from her. If only Kyler hadn't brought home the stomach flu from school, maybe none of this would be happening to her or her father.

But no. She hated blaming others for mistakes they couldn't have helped anyway. It was one of the things about her that showed how innocent and gracious she really was.

"Hey, kiddo…" It was her Dad's soothing voice; she knew this without lifting her head or opening her eyes, and she groaned again. The urge to vomit was beginning to overpower her again, and she made sure her mouth was clamped shut even as her father set down a cup of steaming hot tea on the end table. He gazed at her worriedly, hating the feeling of being powerless, and so he reached out to her and began rubbing her back gently, hoping to bring her some comfort in the small gesture. He decided not to ask her if she was feeling any better, for he could tell she wasn't.

It wasn't like he had anything better to do, he told himself. He would've sat around the house and run aimlessly through the fields if Samantha hadn't gotten sick thirty minutes ago and called home. Of course he'd been reluctant to actually take her home, and it wasn't all because he was being selfish. He too knew today had been art day at school, and Samantha had always enjoyed the finger painting to the point that she'd come home skipping and singing cheerfully, much to her older sister Kyler's annoyance. But he'd given in when the nurse told him she had a fever marking 102 degrees and that she had thrown-up in the middle of class. He couldn't let her go back to class after that humiliating experience, so he'd come running and was at her school before the nurse had managed to hang up.

"C'mon, ya need to push fluids, hon," he encouraged softly while he continued rubbing and patting her back. She shook her head, still refusing to open her mouth for fear of what might come out of it. Sighing, Sonic situated himself on the floor by the couch, preparing himself for a long stay. If he had to stay here and pester her to drink something for an hour, he would, if it'd help like Amy said it would. "Want me to read you something?" he asked, moving towards another tactic. If he could only rouse her into the state of full awareness, maybe she'd at least take a sip of tea.

She had to answer with words this time, so she swallowed cautiously before opening her mouth enough to mutter, "I wanna color."

"I know, honey," Sonic replied gently, still patting her back lovingly. He knew she hadn't wanted to leave school today even after he'd come to pick her up. In fact, she'd hardly uttered a word to him on the way home, angered with the day's outcome. "But I can't take ya back to school now. Besides, we can have fun here at home."

"How?" she murmured, obviously not believing him, which was rare for her. She usually trusted her father with everything, and just the fact that she was questioning him forced Sonic to question himself. But he shook off the rather unusual feeling, smirking at her lightly.

"What would ya think about drawing the longest picture in the world?" he asked, grinning, and the child blinked in surprise. Well, that was an unexpected proposal.

"Seriously?" she asked, a bit weary of the idea, but Sonic could tell she liked it enough, for her dull eyes began to lighten up to their usual state.

"You betcha!" he replied, showing her a thumbs up. "Think ya can stay here at home for a minute while I go buy a huge roll of paper?"

By now the girl was starting to get excited over the idea, and she nodded vigorously.

"Great!" Sonic quipped, standing up. "Oh, and one more detail." He smiled slyly. "If we're gonna do this, I want you to have drunk at least half of that tea by the time I get back. Ya got it?"

"Yep!" she answered enthusiastically, and she forced herself to sit up and gingerly pick up the mug of tea on the table, drinking it slowly.

"Thata girl!" He showed her another thumbs up, and she let out her first smile since coming home. "Be back in a flash!" he added, and then he bolted out the door, locking it behind him.

He arrived back home two minutes later to see Samantha up and gathering art supplies from her room, setting the crayons, colored pencils, paints, and markers down on the floor. Glancing towards the couch, Sonic noticed an abandoned blanket and an empty cup of tea, and he grinned. That was one way on convincing her to drink fluids, he figured.

"I'm back!" he called to her merrily. Under his arm was a rather large roll of fresh white paper, and Samantha gasped at the size of it as he set it down. It was practically as tall as Sonic himself, white as snow, and the child giggled.

"Unroll it, unroll it!" she cried out, jumping up and down, until she remembered that she was sick, and she began coughing violently.

"Try not to get too excited," Sonic advised, frowning slightly as she continued coughing. "Why don't you go to the other side of the room, an' I'll start unrolling this load."

"Okay, Dad," she replied hoarsely, her coughing fit now over, and she forced herself to walk and not run to the other side of the living room where she'd keep the paper down when it rolled up to her. Gently, Sonic set the roll of paper on its side, and he began to unroll it, loving the sound of Samantha's gasp of awe in replacement to her cough.

"It's sooo long!" she cried, giggling once again, but this time she was sure to not start jumping up and down. Instead, she grabbed the closest marker next to her and began drawing without another thought. Sonic laughed as he put four small rocks on the corners of the paper to keep it down, and then, after making another cup of tea for the child, he picked up his own marker and began to draw on the twenty-foot long paper.

For three hours they continued drawing, laughing at Sonic's poor drawing skills and the wavy whiskers on Samantha's kitten. During the time, Samantha completely forgot the stomach flu, her baggy hand-me-downs, and the embarrassment over having thrown-up in the first place. The only thing on her mind was coloring and keeping her father happy by sipping from her mug of tea with honey from time to time.

And then finally, the masterpiece was done, and the two stood back to admire their creation, Sonic's arm around her shoulders.

"Looks like we did it, hon," he murmured, scanning Samantha's drawings of cats, dogs, flowers, and little houses. He merely chuckled upon seeing his own poor art, consisting mostly of trees and hills and flowers, for that's what he often saw during his runs. A few random cat paw prints had also found their way into the picture, for the cat Kitty had decided to investigate the paint for himself half-way through the drawing marathon. Sonic had had to get up and wash the cat's paws off for fear of getting paint on the carpet. It was hard enough keeping Samantha from wiping her hands off on the carpet after smearing them in paint as it was.

"There's our family," Samantha suddenly pointed out, and Sonic tuned back into the real world as he followed her finger. Grinning, his eyes met Samantha's drawing of the whole family: He and Amy, Kyler, Violet, Dash, the triplets, Samantha, and even Kitty. They were all linked together by their hands, except Kitty of course, who sat patiently under Kyler's feet, for once looking mildly amused and not painstakingly bored.

"That's real good, Sam," Sonic complimented, ruffling her spines.

"Thanks," she replied cheerfully. "An' guess what else, Dad. I feel a whole lot better!"

"Tea did ya good, huh?" Sonic quipped, although he had a feeling the tea hadn't been the main cure. The picture, the joy, and the time he'd given just for her- that probably did most of it. A wave of love rushed through him as he realized that his day had been made ten times better by drawing a picture with his daughter, rather than running through the same ol' hills he ran through every day anyway.