Hi.
Ok, so... it's been a while. I had an excuse for the first week, but not anymore. I kinda got in a funk for a bit, despite over half the chapter being ready for weeks now. I'm going to try not to let it get to that point again, but I can't really promise much. I can't gauge when I'm going to get writers block unfortunately, but I'm not done with this story, far from it. Please be patient, and thank you for taking the time to read what I upload, and to those of you who comment, it means a lot.
~Fortune
Chapter Two
Shivering in the darkness, Sonic's heartrate picked up.
He was in the Voidspace again. But, wait. He already remembered what this place was. Usually he did not when Dark dragged him here.
Why had Dark not wiped his memory again? He knew it was Dark who had brought him here, because this was Dark's domain. Super, Hyper, and Fleetway had their own "places" in Sonic's head, but the Voidspace was unique. Dark could shape the Voidspace however he liked. He often kept it pitch black to add to Sonic's disorientation and confusion. But it could do more, so much more, and only Dark himself could control it. Right now, the Voidspace was essentially dormant.
Now that Sonic recalled this fact, he was somewhat glad Dark hadn't done anything the day he took control. There were worse places to be than a dark, echo-y space.
Much worse.
Sonic got to his feet and shook out his fur. Best get this over with, whatever this was. Dark couldn't take over with the inhibitors, right? And the last thing he remembered was going to sleep. Thus, while this could really be happening, Dark had no control over his body. That thought alone eased his poor heart some.
"Dark?" he called, the Voidspace predicably answering with the same.
There was a wind-like sound behind him, then the light tinkle of feet touching the floor. Sonic turned his head to look at Dark out the corner of his eye. There was still a trace of blood staining the side of Dark's mouth. Sonic absently wondered why he hadn't wiped it away completely. That was more Fleetway's thing, not Dark.
"The blood's still there."
Dark scoffed. He stalked around Sonic like he was some sort of prey. Hedgehogs were prey animals, he supposed, but then Dark was a part of Sonic, making him essentially a hedgehog too. It was kind of a silly sentiment; prey stalking prey. Or, predator stalking predator. Prey was helpless. Sonic was not helpless. And he did not consider himself completely helpless around Dark either. When he was taken off guard, sure. When his memory was clouded, of course. When he was fully aware of what was happening, not so much. It was much easier to keep a level head. Mostly. The fact remained he had no idea what Dark was planning here.
"I still can't quite fathom how that prick managed to do it," Dark seethed.
Ah, so he was mad.
"Yeah, well, you're more of a prick than Hyper," Sonic shot back.
Was it the best idea to anger an already angry super hedgehog? Probably not. Sonic couldn't help it though. It wasn't his smartest comeback, but he had to jump to Hyper's defence. He would not have anyone besmirch Hyper's name, or Super's.
Dark stilled.
"What's the matter, Dark?" Sonic said. "You gonna sulk 'cause Hyper's better than you are?"
Dark narrowed his glowing eyes, raising his hand to wipe the thin stain from his muzzle. He took a long, drawn out step closer to Sonic. The blue hedgehog held his ground, returning Dark's glare. The temperature in the Voidspace dropped considerably.
"That stuck up, sparkly hedgehog is not better than me."
Dark's voice was so quiet not even the Voidspace bounced his words back. Dark practically spat the word "sparkly" and his sentence fizzled out with a growl. Something primal in Sonic shrunk at the acidic tone.
Sonic's gaze never left Dark's. He stood stock still, waiting for Dark's next move.
It came quick.
In one swift movement, Dark gathered swirling purple Chaos energy in his left hand and shot it towards Sonic. The hero had barely any time to react to the attack, dodging it by diving to the side. He felt the searing hot energy graze his fur. With it, the icky, prickly feeling he got around Dark's messed up energy spread through his body. He may have avoided the initial attack, but the tiny taste he got of Dark's energy was enough to make him falter as the next came.
As Sonic gasped in shock, Dark flung another ball of energy his way. This time it connected, fully. He went sprawling, the air forced out of his lungs. A shiver wrack his body and he curled up on his side, coughing terribly as he struggled for breath.
Making Dark angry really wasn't the best idea.
It felt like the energy was clogging his lungs. Sonic clenched his fists, attempting to reach out to Hyper with his energy like last time. When he tried, his energy abruptly hit a solid wall. Perplexed, he tried again, trying to find a crack. He found none. Sonic widened his emerald eyes. He couldn't call out to Hyper; he couldn't hear him.
Sonic struggled to his feet. If Hyper was blocked off from him, did that mean Super was too? After a quick search with his energy, he came to the same conclusion. He couldn't get to Super either. There was one he could sense, but he wouldn't go near that sickening energy. It would no doubt end badly. Sonic's heart sank.
He was on his own.
With shaking legs, Sonic spun around to punch Dark, but the darker hedgehog grabbed his wrist the moment he turned around.
Sonic forgot how difficult fighting Dark could be. Hyper had helped him defeat and contain Dark for years, but Hyper hadn't always been with him. He'd fought Dark alone before, he knew he had. He supposed Dark had gotten stronger in isolation. How else would he have blindsided Sonic back in Eggman's base?
Sonic ears lowered. Dark's grip on his wrist was crushing and beginning to really hurt. Sonic moved his other hand in a fake-out gesture and turned to kick Dark's legs out from under him instead. Dark had seemingly foreseen this move, but had not been prepared for the fist that came next. After the punch to his nose, Dark let go of Sonic's wrist. He quickly retaliated with a kick of his own. Where Sonic's kick had only knocked Dark off balance briefly, the force behind Dark's kick sent Sonic stumbling backwards. This time, he managed to stay upright however.
He was stunned enough that, when Dark charged at him, he didn't even react. Dark's fist wrapped around his throat. Sonic's feet left the floor of the Voidspace. He tried desperately to pry Dark's hand off his neck as his windpipe was crushed.
"As much fun as this was, Maurice," Dark said. "I have stuff to prepare. So I'll be seeing you. Soon."
Sonic's eyes widened. "W-wait-"
Dark plunged his hand into Sonic's chest.
Sonic's eyes snapped open with a light gasp. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was and he shifted too far, falling off the branch he'd slept on last night. He hid the forest floor with a thud and the crackle of dry leaves. Thankfully, he'd missed the thick roots of the tree. He'd had worse falls and, other than being quite shocked, he was perfectly fine.
Except, his chest still hurt really bad. He'd landed on his stomach, so he might be able to blame the throb in his ribcage on his fall. But that didn't explain why he could still feel where Dark's hand had entered his chest. He clutched his peach fur, able to feel the echo of Dark tearing through his skin. It felt as if his hand was still in there, crushing his heart in his fist.
But he was fine. He'd just taken a fall and possibly winded himself. That's all.
No. Wait.
Shouldn't his inhibitors be stopping Dark from fucking with him? His super forms were essentially pure energy. So how could Dark reach him?
It must have been a silly dream. It meant nothing; he was just frazzled.
He wanted to scream in frustration so badly, but he would not. Could not. If what had just happened was real, any sign of weakness could and would encourage Dark. Better safe than sorry. It wasn't paranoia. It wasn't.
Sonic was feeling rather low though. Just thinking about his new inhibitors had already dampened his mood drastically.
Something lightly grazed his ear. He hopped up to his feet and growled, glaring around the clearing. He saw nothing. A falling, golden leaf fell on his nose and he flinched. He watched it's descent to the ground with a frown. Then he realised what had happened. A leaf had touched his ear. And he'd snapped.
Something so small. And he'd snapped.
Sonic frowned. His current mood wasn't far off how he felt on what Tails referred to as his "off days."
Generally, Sonic was a positive person. At least, he tried to be. Some days he had to put on a smile and act like everything was ok when it wasn't. More often than he'd like, really. But he was mostly positive.
And then there were his "off days."
On his off days, he didn't feel like himself. Those days passed slow. He would struggle through them in a weird gloom, like walking through thick miasma. He wouldn't want to do anything. It was like the weight of the world fell upon him at once on those days. He would just feel so miserable out of nowhere.
Only Tails knew he had these days. And Tails noticed the signs. He'd wake up late, which was never like him; he was usually an early riser, and that was the first sign something was wrong. Then there was the way he carried himself when he finally did get up. He'd drag his feet, his shoulders would be slumped, ears droopy, eyes half-lidded. Tails often said the spark in his eyes was missing on those days. Sonic wasn't quite sure what he meant.
He wouldn't leave the house on his off days either. He'd spend most of the time curled up on the settee, wrapped in a super soft, red weighted blanket. His favourite blanket, strictly reserved for off days. Sonic also had a hot water bottle, embarrassingly encased in a plush chao. That was a newer edition to his routine on off days. Tails bought it a few months back. No one ever saw it apart from his brother, and Sonic did love it. It was your typical hero chao; white, blue and yellow. It was also super soft. Tails said he was a very tactile person, whatever that meant. All his blankets had to be soft. Even the carpet in his room was incredibly plush. And that had nothing to do with the fact that he sometimes slept underneath his bed after a nightmare. Definitely not.
While holed up in the house, Tails would be there to cheer him up the best he could. The fox would hardly leave his side. Unless he was making food. Sonic's insatiable appetite would be near non-existent, but he would accept the snacks Tails brought him. And the hot chocolate. They drank a lot of hot chocolate together on off days. And they always drank them the same way. Whipped cream, three large marshmallows – two pink and one white every time – and a crushed peppermint for Tails. Just marshmallows for Sonic, seven small, only the white ones.
Sonic would not eat the pink ones.
He claimed the two colours tasted different. Tails wasn't convinced.
Sonic smiled.
Their routine for Sonic's off days weren't too dissimilar to their routine for storms. Except, it was Sonic looking after Tails during storms. And instead of the weighted blanket and hot water bottle, Sonic would make a pillow fort in the living room using spare blankets, pillows, and a couple dining room chairs. It was there that they'd wait out the storm, huddled up in a fort lit by the soft, warm glow of ring-shaped fairy lights.
His smile slipped away.
He felt shit, like on his off days, but he was also jumpy. And there was a lingering, roiling feeling deep in his chest. A strange mixture of anger and anxiety.
Sonic wondered if he was having an off day now. He looked through the trees, trying to gauge the time of day. His internal clock was usually flawless, but he couldn't even guess at the time today. That was also a sign of his off days sometimes.
He sighed. Whatever the time was, it was at least before midday. Otherwise, he'd probably be able to see the sun.
He could really use his hot water bottle chao right about now.
All he wanted to do was go home, apologise for running off and curl up with his brother on the settee. But he couldn't. Betrayal still occupied a bed in his heart.
He wasn't back yet.
Knuckles huffed, staring around the empty living room. He'd already checked Sonic's bedroom. He'd even checked the garage, remembering when Tails told him about when he found Sonic sleeping in the cockpit of their biplane a few years back. But there was no sign of him.
Part of Knuckles thought Sonic was being childish. The other, quieter part of him reminded him that Sonic was still a teenager.
And ambushing him had been a tad unfair, he supposed. That probably didn't help.
Ok, it was definitely the wrong move. Knuckles was starting to regret it. Like, really regret it.
Sonic was a difficult mobian for Knuckles to understand. It sometimes bothered him how easily Tails could communicate with the blue hedgehog. They wouldn't even need to speak; it was like they could read each other's minds sometimes. He'd be lying if he said it didn't freak him out occasionally. Though the two were extremely close.
Sonic hadn't been able to speak when Knuckles first met him. But even back then, Tails seemed to understand him. Down to the smallest flick of an ear, or twitch of his nose, Tails could accurately tell you how he was feeling back then. Though Tails had admitted to him once that Sonic got harder to read the older he got. Only, Tails could still read him sometimes; Knuckles still could not.
Knuckles had never truly learnt how to speak 'Sonic.'
Shaking his head, Knuckles migrated to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. He was never picky about where he sat, but Sonic and Tails had always been. They were both picky about a lot of things. They both had specific seats at the table; Sonic on the right, closest to the door, and Tails on the left, closest to the fridge. Knuckles wasn't quite sure why. If he had to guess, Tails had picked up this quirk from Sonic himself. Sonic always had to be particular about everything.
Why? He didn't really know.
Tails was still sleeping. He hadn't gone to bed until sometime past midnight. Knuckles was sure Sonic wouldn't have been very happy about that. He'd tried to coax the young fox to bed last night, he really had, but Tails was as stubborn as his brother. That was also something extremely annoying the fox had picked up from Sonic. Knuckles wasn't entirely sure if Sonic was the best influence for Tails growing up, but he did know one thing: that hedgehog had given everything to his adoptive brother. Everything.
He had to come back soon.
Knuckles heard movement upstairs. He looked expectantly at the door to the kitchen, but Tails did not appear.
Looking at the faintly glowing green clock on the oven, Knuckles noticed how late it really was. From his experience around the two brothers, they were early risers. They'd definitely be up before eleven, that's for sure. It was just turning half past.
He wasn't typically an early riser himself. Truth be told, he hadn't really slept all that much last night. The spare room was perfectly cosy, as it always was, stocked with plenty of pillows and plush blankets. That wasn't what the problem was. He just couldn't seem to close his eyes. Knuckles replayed that panicked look of betrayal over and over again in his head. At the best of times, it wasn't a very comforting expression. But on Sonic? One of his first and closest friends? It made him feel ill.
And he was the main reason Sonic had felt betrayed. He certainly deserved that punch. It had left a light bruise, the phantom feeling of Sonic's fist against his cheek. Knuckles would give anything for Sonic to turn up at the door, just so he could apologise. Even if that meant another punch, he'd take it. Hundreds of times over.
'Wherever you are, you better be ok,' he thought, tapping a finger against the table top.
There was another vague creaking of floorboards from upstairs, but it never reached the stairs. He was starting to wonder if Tails was pacing or something. It certainly sounded like it.
He'd give it another few minutes before he went up to check. If Tails wanted to be left alone for a moment, he wouldn't pry. Didn't mean he wasn't worried though. Comforting people was never really one of his strengths, but Sonic, and by extension Tails, were on another level. Tails was typically easier to read; his namesakes gave away a lot if you paid attention. Pacing was something that he'd seen them both do. Again, he chalked that up Sonic's influence on Tails. Neither were particularly great with their emotions, he'd learnt. At least Knuckles could tell when he was feeling something. Sometimes, it felt like the most basic emotions were foreign to the brothers.
No. Perhaps not foreign. More like… unwelcome? That felt like a better word for it.
Tails wasn't too bad. When he was tired, he'd pretend he wasn't. But he was still a kid, so that wasn't all that surprising. The fox would not typically act on anger either. Fear… fear was something he had yet to accept. The kind of pure terror he felt during a storm was hard to hide. Fighting one of Eggman's bigger, more destructive robots was a lot easier though. Especially when you grew up with Sonic, the bravest hedgehog on the planet.
But brave didn't mean you weren't afraid. Brave meant you could fight through the fear. Brave meant you could continue fighting, even when you felt like it was hopeless.
Sonic hadn't quite grasped that either.
Despite what he may say to Tails, Sonic seemed to think brave meant you never felt fear. At least, you never let it show. He overheard Sonic telling his brother that even if you're visibly afraid, you could be brave. But he didn't live by that himself.
Knuckles knew one of Sonic's worst fears on the planet was water. It took him years to learn this fact. Because Sonic was good at pretending. Thinking back, Sonic had typically kept his distance from larger bodies of water. But sometimes, during adventures, they had to cross a few water-heavy zones. Sonic had braved them like a champ.
It wasn't until the Perfect Chaos incident that Knuckles saw how much water really affected him.
After the fact.
The hedgehog wouldn't drink water for a full week after that fight. Even then, he would take small sips. Baths had always been a big no-no, but even showers had been difficult for a long while. Whenever it rained, for almost a month after the Perfect Chaos incident, Sonic outright refused to go out in it.
But he tried to play it all off with different excuses, instead of owning up to his own fear.
Not drinking? He wasn't thirsty, he drank earlier but you didn't see. Not showering? He could go another day or two, he wasn't that smelly yet, there wasn't that much dirt in his fur. Not going out in the rain? It's cold, there's no point, he might slip in the mud – not like mud had stopped him before.
Knuckles was also at least 70% sure Sonic had claustrophobia too. There were probably more fears hidden below the surface that he wasn't privy too. It wouldn't surprise him.
It wasn't just fear Sonic did this with. He did it with every emotion under the sun, other than happiness. He typically used happiness to cover up anything else he might be feeling.
Which is why that burning betrayal in his eyes yesterday had really bothered Knuckles.
Why had that been so clear?
He rubbed at his face with both hands, ignoring the dull ache in his cheek. The floorboards groaned again, but this time he could hear the distinct squeak of one of the steps on the stairs. Tails was coming down. He had to ignore the nagging feeling that something was seriously wrong. Tails needed him now. And he would stay for as long as he had to, for as long as Tails wanted him here.
