"Get me blankets!"

Zip. Done.

"Someone run a bath! Warm. Don't burn his skin."

Zip. Water running.

"Heating pads, in the hall closet!"

Zip. Plugged in and ready.

He was doing all he could. Everything that he could possibly do to help his brother. He felt so helpless. But getting things they needed. That was his forte. He was lightening.

He watched as Tom scooped up the large bundle of blankets and carried it upstairs to the running bath, Maddie on his heals. He followed them up but was barred at the door.

"Honey, wait outside. I promise, everything will be ok."

He stopped and froze outside the door. Through the crook in Maddie's arm he could see Tom unbundling the blankets and lowering the form into the warm water. He got that water. He was helping. He had to.

But now all he could do was stand outside and stare at the backs of his guardians as they focused their energy on his older brother, trying to save his life. Save his life. Sonic felt sick. His breaths came shorter and his chest felt heavier.

He found himself almost floating down the stairs, his body and head light with worry. This was surreal. This wasn't happening.

They had come together. They had beaten Robotnik. They had saved the world. They were unstoppable. So how had something as stupid as snow, as stupid as cold, snuck in the back door and struck them with stealth, where their defenses couldn't fight it. It was unfathomable, it was unbelievable, it was…

He made it to the couch and sat heavily on the cushions. Just next to him was his younger brother, wrapped in a thick blanket, given to him by Maddie, and holding a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, staring at the hot liquid as if it was repulsive.

He was so proud of Tails. He knew that carrying their heavy brother was not easy. He knew how tired he was. But he had done it. He was so strong. Sonic found himself scooting closer and lifting the blanket to cuddle close, offering comfort. The blanket felt so warm, so soft. He hadn't realized how cold he actually was.

"He's going to be ok, right?" Tails asked softly. Now that the adrenaline had worn off he looked so small, so tired, so scared. He figured he looked no different.

"Yeah, Tails…" he answered, pulling his little brother closer. "Yeah, he has to be…"

Warm.

It was the first thing he noticed as his brain tried to make sense. Warm.

All he could remember was cold. Cold in his bones, cold in his lungs, cold in his soul.

But now there was warmth.

He leaned into it, sank into it, followed it. It felt safe, it felt like sun, it felt like playing on the beach on a hot day, his father watching him with soft eyes.

He suddenly became aware of his eyelids. He tried to open them, but they were so heavy. So heavy.

He was so tired.

He could hear soft voices. Friendly voices. He could not make out what they were saying.

He felt a soft touch run across his head. He felt himself purr softly.

He was so tired.

And so he relaxed back into the welcoming warmth, the welcoming arms of his father, and he knew no more.

Maddie sat on the couch, feeling the weight of her son's body on her lap. She had him wrapped in blankets, so many that she had lost count. She watched as his little muzzle peeked out from under the deepest layer. She felt his small, soft breaths brush against her hand, the only sign that he was alive. That he would be OK.

She moved her hand to his head and softly brushed his quills away from his face. He hummed a soft purr at her touch, but did not open his eyes. She smiled despite herself and pulled his body closer, not daring to allow any space between them, as if he would disappear into the chasm and never be found.

He finally felt warm.

Tom was with the other two boys, settling them in bed. They had all been worried sick all day as they waited for their brother's body to respond. As scared as she was, she was able to find the doctor, the stable, rational doctor inside of her and directed his needs to her family, each of them willing to help in any way possible. Thank God she was a doctor. She didn't want to think about what could have happened if she wasn't.

But now, with the boys up in bed, and the imminent danger mostly behind them, she felt the stability leak out of her and there was nothing left but a worried mother with a sick child. Not to mention the suffocating weight of guilt pushing her into her cushions, making it hard to breath. The only thing keeping her sane, keeping her from spiraling out of control was the weight of her boy in her lap and the soft, reassuring breaths that seemed to get more stable as each minute passed.

She stared at his young face, lost in the relief that he was safe in her arms. No one would take him, no one would take any of them away from her again.

She brought her lips to his forehead, kissing him gently between the eyes, then on the forehead, moving to his cheeks and his nose, willing each motherly kiss to take away everything she said to him and everything she hasn't said one by one. A tear fell from her cheek and landed on his muzzle, settling on his cheek while he slept.

She wished he would wake up, that she could see those beautiful violet orbs looking back at her. She didn't care what those orbs held behind them, fear, anger, hurt…she could fix it all if he would just look at her. She willed his eyes to open but knew they would not. He needed to heal, he needed to rest.

So lost she was staring at his face that she didn't hear her husband come up to her and sit, placing a hand over hers so they were both touching the boy in her lap. The boy they almost lost.

"How are the boys?" she found herself asking, never taking her eyes from his face.

"They're fine. They should sleep tonight. They are so tired." Tom answered simply. Maddie hummed in response. She suddenly felt fidgety and rearranged the blankets around his face, letting her hand brush against his cheek.

"How's he doing?" Tom asked, voice laced with apprehension.

"He's going to be ok…" She answered softly, more for herself than for him.

She felt his eyes boring into her, studying her, worrying about her.

"You can't do this to yourself." Tom said, running his hand over hers. "You can't blame yourself. This has been hard. Hard for everyone. There are going to be rough patches. There is going to be adjustment…"

"You didn't see his eyes…" she interrupted, her voice sad, thick. "You didn't see his eyes when I yelled. He normally doesn't give me anything, he is normally so guarded…but yesterday, he was lost. He was lost, Tom, and I didn't help him home. I pushed him further into the dark. I didn't help him home…" she trailed off, sobs forcing themselves from her chest without warning, like a volcano erupting from the pressure within.

She felt Tom pull her close and she turned her head into his chest, wetting his shirt with her tears. She cried for her son, she cried for her family, her little family that felt like it could fracture at the slightest pressure. She pulled his little body closer and felt Tom wrap his other arm around them both, enveloping him in his strength, in his love. She cried. She cried until her eyes were dry. She cried until her eyes closed. She cried until she fell asleep.

When Maddie opened her eyes the first thing she noticed was that Tom was gone. She was lying on the couch, her son still situated in her lap, nestled against a pile of pillows. The next thing she noticed was the strong smell of coffee and breakfast wafting from the kitchen. The next thing she noticed were half lidded violet eyes staring up at her.

She gasped.

"Knuckles!" she breathed, and immediately pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling her face in his forehead. "Oh thank God…I was so worried…"

She felt his body shift slightly under the weight of the blankets. She could imagine his muscles were tense and stiff but she didn't care. She needed him to know he was loved. She needed him to know she was here.

"Miss…Miss Maddie?" she heard him croak, his throat dry. "Miss Maddie, are you OK?" His voice was soft, weak, vulnerable. She pulled her head back so she could stare at him, meet his eyes.

"Yes, baby." she answered softly. "Yes, baby, I'll be OK."

"I am sorry." he murmured, so low she barely caught the words. His eyes closed softly and she imagined, if he could, he would be pulling away. But the large swaddle of blankets kept him close to her, and she loved blankets more than ever for that.

"No, you will not be sorry." she said firmly, her voice causing his eyes to crack back open and his violet irises to meet hers. "I am the one who is sorry. I over-reacted the other day. I am so sorry that I hurt you. I'm so sorry…" She brought her forehead to his and closed her eyes, willing her feeling to transfer to him, to convey how truly sorry she was, and how much she loved him.

"This world is a weird world." she continued, taking advantage of the continued silence. "I forget that sometimes because this is the world I grew up in. But you, you were thrust into this world with no warning, with no time, with no choice. I can't imagine how hard it has been for you. Losing everything you love, living alone for so long, then being forced into a world that is scary and new. But you have done so well. You are so brave. We…I…am so proud of you."

She felt his breath quicken under her arms and when she chanced a look back down to his face she found his eyes were closed, his muzzle furrowed. She could not guess what was going through his head, but she wanted to make sure he knew that she was telling the truth. She ran her hand through his quills and watched as he almost unconsciously leaned into her touch. She smiled.

"What if I cannot do it?" he voiced, a hint of fear lacing his voice.

"You will, and we will help you. Knuckles, you are their brother, you are my son. We will be here to help you. We will never leave you."

Something about those words caused his breath to hitch. She felt him shift slightly again and his face rested against her chest. She continued to run her hand through his quills, willing him calm, willing him to understand. He was so afraid of loss. And why wouldn't he be?

"You mean this?" he asked, his voice sounding so child like.

"Of course, baby." she cooed, squeezing him again. "We are your family."

He became quiet then, the only sound was his soft breaths as he puffed into her chest. She could tell he was still weak, still so tired. She didn't want him to overdo it. He needed rest.

"Close your eyes, get some sleep." she murmured softly near his ear. "You are OK. We have you."

She watched as his eyes closed and his face nuzzled further into her side. She thought he had fallen back asleep when his eyes suddenly flew open and he turned back, his eyes meeting hers.

"The hedgehog…Sonic…He is ok?" he asked, with a lace of panic.

"Yes, sweetie." she answered smiling. "Yes, he is fine…because of you."

He relaxed back into her again, letting go of a deep breath. His eyes closed again and his breath evened out. She ran her fingertips over his closed eyelids.

"And someday you will realize that your life is not less than theirs…" she thought, taking comfort once again in his weight on her lap. "Someday…" she promised to herself.

Tom walked in then with coffee and eggs on a tray, bringing it to her on the couch, understanding that she was not moving, not letting go of her son. Not yet.

"How was he?" he asked. She looked up, meeting his eyes. He must have heard them talking. He must have hung back, as hard as that was, to give them space. She smiled. She loved this man so much.

"He is going to be ok." she said firmly with a soft smile, pulling Tom's head to hers. "We are going to be OK."