Author's note: Hey guys! Thanks for reading so far. Hopefully you're enjoying the story, there's much more to come in the next few weeks. If you're feeling kind, please do leave a review, it would mean a lot to me. Anyway, I made a slight correction in the opening note, specifically about episodes I consider 'canon' for this fic. It's only a minor thing! Once again, thanks for reading this far, and do enjoy today's chapter.

17:55 HOURS LEFT / THE LEAF

Rosie the childminder rocked gently back and forth in her rocking-chair, watching Tails as he slept in the bed in the corner of the small but cosy cabin. It was still quite early in the morning and the little fox was fast asleep. Rosie herself had only woken up a few minutes ago, and she was also still very tired – the other freedom fighters had been quite rowdy last night and kept her awake a little longer than she would have preferred, but she didn't blame them for their excitement, with Robotnik's defeat just around the corner. She rubbed her eyes wearily, then decided that a good pick-me-up would be to step outside and take a breath of fresh air.

The door opened almost on its down, and Rosie poked her head out, taking a deep breath in. Already she felt a little better. She took a small step outside and rested on the doorframe, looking out on Knothole. Everything looked fine, and everything felt fine. Rosie had never felt more fine. The world felt peaceful, even if the wind was a little strong as it rustled the tall autumnal trees surrounding them. The browns and golds waving to her reminded her of the happy memories of seeing her friends and family as a child. That was one of her strengths, she realised – her memories refused to be tainted by any pollution.

As she stood, smiling incandescently, a sole leaf fluttered into view on the wind and landed on the wooden patio in front of her. She bent down, a little stiffly, and picked it up. It was a Birch leaf. She knew that because when she'd been little, she'd done a leaf collection with her dear Nanny. Maybe that would be a good idea to do with Tails, even if he was getting a little old for something like that.

She held the leaf up, then let it go as the wind picked up again. The leaf majestically floated a few yards then dropped rather suddenly to the floor. Rosie smiled a little to herself, but a cold wind picked the leaf up once again. This time, the leaf was taken out of sight. Rosie shivered slightly and stepped back inside, closing the door.

The cabin was warm, and she returned to being comfortable and peaceful after a short rest back in her comfy rocking-chair. Tails was showing the signs of waking up soon, too – he was stretching and yawning. That, or he needed the toilet again. Rosie got out of her rocking-chair and walked over to the sleeping child, then stroked his forehead gently with her thumb. His eyes opened slowly and she smiled. "Good morning, Tails," she said softly. Tails yawned.

"I need to go to the toilet," he groaned.

"Nobody's stopping you, dear," Rosie chuckled gently, and Tails pushed his way out of bed to stagger his way to the toilet door. He was out after a couple of minutes. "Rosie, I've just been sick," he moaned, before suddenly falling limp. It was only because Rosie was cleaning the floor that she managed to catch him before he hit the ground.

She rested the unconscious Tails on the bed and scurried as quickly as she could to the door. Opening it hurriedly, she rushed out, looking frantically around for help. She barely spotted a small person with a long nose that she didn't recognize and immediately called out. "Excuse me! Can you help me, please, a child is very sick!

Snively was taken off guard by the sudden yelling. He squeaked and ducked behind the tree again. "Please! If you don't help, then... I don't know what could happen! Please!" came the voice. It was the sound of fear that Snively recognised all too well. He peered around the tree and saw the old squirrel lady looking straight at him. "Please!" she cried again. Her face was filled with terror. Something he didn't recognise at first, but something he realised he must look like every time Robotnik bellowed at him. He then realised that he was sympathising with somebody. It had been a long time since he'd been able to do that.

Snively found his legs moving of their own accord towards the old squirrel lady and the hut and, before he regained control, he was inside it, staring straight at Tails. The enemy. One of the people responsible for making his life horrible. And yet, strangely, he felt pity for the poor creature as it lay there, coughing and dribbling a little.

Rosie looked from Tails to the small man. "Do you know what the problem is? Can you help?"

Snively's lips moved without him wanting them to. "I-I think so..." came his voice. He cursed inside his head. 'Think' was a word Robotnik had told him to delete. It was either 'know' or 'don't know' and even then he would be bashed for not saying so before. He tensed up automatically, ready for another scolding.

"Oh, thank heavens. You have no idea how grateful I am for this," Rosie said, sighing heavily.

Snively had been thanked. A warm feeling touched his heart. It was almost pleasant, too. In fact, it felt wonderful.

17:20 HOURS LEFT / THE BARREL

Robotnik leant back in his control chair and watched the multiscreen monitors. Each of them displayed different things, but one talent of Robotnik's allowed him to absorb information easily. The first screen showed excellent progress on the new Robotisizer, and the second cut between various shots of the oil lakes that the boy had shown him. The third had a small area from the city perimeters which had been a hotspot for freedom fighter activity, and the fourth a shot of a long dark room which housed hundreds of barrels of oil on tall shelves. There were a bunch of smaller screens which displayed other vital areas, but Robotnik was focused on the fourth main screen.

The time-traveller was pacing back and forth, as he liked to do, in front of the rows of shelves, and appeared to be talking to himself. The microphones had never been made very sensitive on Robotnik's surveillance cameras, but the occasional word came through. Very little was interesting – it was seemingly just the boy reminiscing aloud about his mother.

A pair of SWAT-bot shadows were cast suddenly as they appeared in the off-screen doorway. They marched into the room and placed the barrel in a corner, as the shelves were fully-stocked. Both robots walked out the way they came. Robotnik leaned forward as the boy looked suspiciously at the barrel. Then he kicked it, and it fell over, but Robotnik thought he had noticed something odd about the kick.

"Rewind surveillance tape, screen 4," Robotnik ordered after a short moment of interested confusion. The screen paused, then rewound about thirty seconds before playing again. The SWAT-bots brought in the barrel then left, and then the time-traveller kicked it. As he kicked it, there was just as loud of a noise as when it clanged to the floor.

"Rewind again! Play at a tenth speed, and enhance volume!"

There it was for certain – a first bang as the boy kicked the barrel. There was no way that just a boot could make that amount of noise when kicking a full can, and furthermore the barrel would have weighed far too much for such a scrawny child to have just tapped it over like that without feeling some sort of pain. There was something funny about the boy's right foot. Something metallic. Something robotic.

Something which could be exploited.