Dreams, Feathers, and Stars, a sonic the hedgehog fanfic

There are times when life doesn't make sense. When there is nothing we can do but hope things turn out alright for us. Because giving up hope is losing ourselves.

tu-a-wee

Perched elegantly on the end of a tree branch sat a small feathery creature known to this world as a flicky. It was singing one of its many fine tunes, only pausing the beautiful song to dip his dark beak down and adjust the taupe fluff on his belly. A circle of saffron reflected off his sapphire overcoat that was bristling in the wind as the sun set ahead of him.

Standing under the tree was a young girl with long golden sandy hair, almond skin, and bluish-gray eyes. The shirt from her puffy-sleeved chambray dress fluttered as she admired the flicky from a safe enough distance that would not scare him away.

She enjoyed looking at it. It was her favorite color—blue—just like her dress, just like her home here on Earth, just like the water that gave everything around her life.

The girl sighed, looking at her hands. She yearned for the day she could go closer to flickies when she could hold them in her palm or sit them on her shoulders like her grandmother.

The old lady always told her granddaughter that from the second she laid eyes on her, she could see her lively, energetic nature deep in her bright blue eyes.

She could tell that her grandparents loved her very much. After all, they had taken her in after her parents disappeared on that G.U.N. mission. But she felt suffocated in their home sometimes.

She wanted to go outside and play. They wanted her inside and studying.

She wanted to see the world. They wanted her to get a decent career, settle down with a good man, and start a family.

They wanted a quiet, well-behaved, sweet little girl (especially Grandfather.)

She was only one of those things.

The flicky started to shift, cerulean egg shells peeking out from under him. She stepped forward to get a closer look, a stick breaking under her foot as the flicky looked back up, wings gearing up for the flight.

"You don't have to be afraid of me!" The girl promised, but it was too late. In a flash of blue, the creature was gone.

She followed it until it flew past the river, where the girl was barred from by her grandparents. And she just thought that was unfair. She was a whole six years old, after all. She should be allowed to go wherever she wanted.

She had almost passed it one day while her grandparents were sleeping. They had asked her to study, but she knew an adventure would be more fun, so she snuck out to explore the forest beyond her reach.

The bridge had crumbled to bits ages ago, leaving the only way to get past the river without a boat over the old log. So that's what she did.

Putting one shaky boot in front of the other, arms out for balance, the young girl made it halfway.

She tried not to think about how she couldn't swim, how fast the river was running, or how upset her guardian would be if she came home wet.

She needed to focus on her quest right now. She needed to see the rest of the small world she lived in.

She kept going. Her confidence was growing. She could see the other side come closer and closer to her.

Then she slipped.

She felt herself dip beneath the surface, and coldness drenched her. Flailing, she tried uselessly to reach the surface. Pressure built up in her neck as she tried desperately not to open her mouth, trying not to let herself entirely succumb to the waves.

She can't get up. She can't get out. How is she going to get out? Is this really how it was going to end? She didn't want to die yet. She had so much to do. She had so much of the world to see. God, her grandparents were going to be so upset they-

Something grasped her wrist. She felt the cold air hit her again.

She could breathe. She could breathe. She wasn't going to die. She would get to grow up. She could breathe. She could breathe.

Then she looked at the hand holding her wrist and wished she had let the cool water suffocate her.

It was her grandmother, the short, grey-haired woman wearing a short flaxen blouse. Her wrinkled face lowered into a scowl.

She felt herself lifted over her shoulder. Her surroundings shifted around her as the grandmother carried her over to their patio, sitting down with her in the rocking chair with the girl in her lap.

The kid froze, wondering if she would get another long, boring lecture. But instead, her grandmother did something she had often done, just not in private. She told her a story just as she liked to during family gatherings. She was the best storyteller any of them had ever seen.

"Once upon a time," She started, holding out one handful of berries and slugs for her flicky friends to rummage through. Her other hand occupied, trying to keep her energetic granddaughter to sit still, if just for a second. "A little beryl flicky lived happily in the woods alongside her other critter friends."

"Like the rest of her family, she ate bugs, chirped happily, and slept in a pine needle nest high in a tree. But unlike the rest of her family, her melody was considered the sweetest to all beings around her."

"'Good morning!' The little bird would say, flapping her wings as she got ready to start her day."

"'Good morning, Blue!' Her critter friends shouted back, excited to hear her soothing morning song."

"Tu-wee-wee."

"Once she finished, her mother flew into the nest."

"'You are grown now. Time to go!' Her mother nudged her to the edge of the nest, then off into the air.

"The young blue flicky flapped her wings just as they practiced, and up into the air she went. And off she went just as the mother to explore the world and share her sweet melodies. Fluttering through the trees in search of food was an instinct, but sharing her gift was her obsession."

"Tu-wee-wee."

"But, one day, she flew too close to a nearby castle despite the warnings from her friends. So, once her song reached the ears of a proud old king, he declared that he must have her for himself."

"Men were sent out for the blue flicky. She saw them following her from the skies. Never before had she been around so many humans. She did not know what they wanted."

"Little sticks started flying past her. Dread was building up in her little beating chest as she flew faster, never quite shaking the persistent blows. She had never seen but heard of this kind of weapon before."

"Flying rocks her friends had described to her. Humans called them bullets. They meant to take her out of the sky. To drop her down to the ground for the humans to collect her stiff body."

"But she didn't want to fall from the sky. She wanted to be free. She had yet to see or do enough. It couldn't happen like this. It couldn't-"

"But it did." The girl, still in the storyteller's lap, guessed. The older woman nodded, shivering as a frigid wind rushed past them. The girl longed to be as fast as it, to ride with it one day.

"She was no match for the skilled men sent out for her. And soon, the king had his new pet."

"They placed her in what would seem like an enormous silvery cage, but to her, who had bred in the forest, she might as well have been stuffed in a matchbox."

"Set by the window overlooking the terrace so she could watch the outside world, freedom was mocking her. It was hopeless, but she kept singing her song, hoping one of her friends would hear and come to set her free."

"And did they?" The girl interrupted, despite herself.

"No, no one came." The elder frowned.

"Over the years, her voice grew faint, and the king forgot about her. His young son, the prince, always came by and assured them that even though the king would not free her, she would always be comfortable and fed."

"Then, one day, news of the king's passing rang out through the land, and the prince became in charge. And his very first decree was to set the bluebird free."

"The blue flicky, who had grown old and weak by that time, was so grateful that she perched herself on the new ruler's pointer finger and sang him the most enchanting tune the kingdom had ever heard. Then they wished her goodbye as she took to the skies. She had but one day of freedom before withering away."

"But even though she has departed from this world, they say a part of her remains. The memory of her last melody. They say those who listen for it, those who deserve to hear it, will."

They were silent for a while, birds squawking from above as they looked toward the dark forest stretching to the front of them. The citrusy scent of pine needles and cedar trees danced around them, and a sense of calm consumed the two family members.

The girl had never felt more loved than this moment, a heartbeat pumping in her heart.

"Can you hear it, Maria?" A soft, calm voice said into her ear.

"I think so, Babushka."

Creak.

It had been ages since Maria had heard that melody or even seen a real-life flicky.

Drawings? Yeah.

Photography? Sure.

Movies? Sometimes.

Creak.

But not the real-life, breathing little critter she could press into her palms.

Creak.

Or any animal, for that matter.

She kicked her feet higher in the air, the cold metal of the swing pressed against her as she stared at the stars from beyond the glass ahead of her. The speckled rubber carpet ground against her bare feet as she moved to push herself higher.

If Maria went super fast, she could pretend that she didn't need to see a flicky, that it wouldn't matter because she was one. But alas, every movement she made already hurt like hell, and she was only going one-fourth her usual pace.

Creak.

The only animal Grandfather let her be around these days was Shadow. A creation- an ultimate Lifeform- meant to save her, who became her best friend/little brother. But even he didn't count, as much as some would disagree, mobians had minds as intelligent as humans.

Creak.

And even if he did count, she couldn't exactly see him right now. They took him in for testing four days ago. Everytime she asked, she was informed he was alright but couldn't see her. She couldn't bare think about the things they were doing to him.

They were torturing her best friend.

To save her.

But it wasn't just the thought of Shadow in pain bothering her, though the unimaginable things they must be doing made her want to rip her hair out.

But they've also been a lot more persistent with the testing lately. Did they suspect it, too? Are they buying their time to keep her heart beating until the cure is ready? To finally finish this five-year project before one of the main subjects—she shook her head to push the thought out of her mind.

Gripping tighter at the chains adjacent to her, she listened to the sounds of the teeter-totter, the dragging of metal made as she lifted and tucked back her legs.

The panic had made her forget some of her pain, and now she was going faster, finally. Leaden walls blurring beside her as she wished they would finally get around to commissioning a mural for it.

The playground she had had since a few tedious months on this ship was a replica of the one she had at the park close to her home. She made it the area she could go to when she wanted to be a kid again. To not have to worry about dying again. Yet, it still felt like she was in any other place on this stupid ship.

Everything about it appalled her.

The platinum achromatic interior. The flickering fluorescent lights. The grim-looking guards. The relentless medical staff. The callous research scientist. The halls are void of any friendly face. The lack of warm sun on her skin. The scarcity of flora that was too inadequate to frolic around in.

And she despised this sickness ruining her life.

The way was keeping Grandfather up all night, trying desperately not to fail her the way he felt he failed his dear wife. The way Shadow blamed himself whenever another treatment either fell through or left her getting sicker. The way outsiders (welcomed in for various tasks such as fixing or cleaning, only after a thorough inspection to prevent her compromised immune system from developing a disease) looked at her with pity. The wary looks from doctors who graduated with honors in the hardest of universities yet still were stumped on how to cure her.

The deep ache in her bones. The tiredness was felt every time she did as much as standing up. The C.A.T. scans. M.R.I.s. The blood draws. Physical therapy days that made her want to vomit. The anxiety of her heart-stopping at any moment—the enormous amount of pills she had to guzzle down. The constant injections of foreign substances made her feel like more of a pincushion than a girl.

Heh. Pincushion, just like Shadow.

It would be cool to be a hedgehog and as cool as her brother.

He had only been around for four years (physically, he was fifteen) and was already the most compassionate, protective, and fastest person she knew.

If she lived to be an adult, she wanted to be just like him.

If.

Everyone here knows that's not going to happen, though.

Everyone knows except for her poor, dear Grandfather.

Creak.

He had so little family left.

Creak.

If he loses another, she thinks he may go mad.

Creak.

Gripping the chains adjacent to her tighter, she listened to the sounds of the teeter-totter, the dragging of metal made as she lifted and tucked back her legs.

When she got better, going for a walk in the woods was the first thing she wanted to do.

That was if she got better. Suppose her heart didn't start to falter before then, eventually stopping its harmonious beating.

If Death didn't pull her away first.

Because everyone on this ship knows it could happen and that it may happen soon. Everyone except Grandfather and Shadow that is.

Grandfather always thought that this was entirely in his hands. After all, he was highly respected in his field and the only one with the resources for this type of project.

Shadow's primary purpose was to cure her and save everyone who got sick like this. She hoped he would be okay if anything happened to Maria, but she wasn't sure he would.

And also, she didn't want to die. She just wanted to go home.

She wanted the research scientists to stop wasting their precious time on a lost cause, her doctors to stop sighing in exasperation every time there was a complication, Grandfather to get some rest and enjoy his elderly days, and most of all, Shadow to see Earth just as she did.

She wanted to feel the grass between her toes, listen as the wind whistled through the trees, and gaze at the sun disappearing beyond the horizon, breaking the sky into perplexing, gorgeous colors.

To not carry the weight of someone's life on their paws.

And maybe she could go with him, live out the rest of her minimal days introducing him to Earth, and die at home instead of this hunk of metal and wires in the sky.

Or maybe she wouldn't die. She may get to grow up and go on adventures with him.

God, would that be something?

Maria looked at the empty swing set to her right. With Shadow gone, she had no one to play with or talk with.

The guards at the doors protected her, and the nurses, doctors, and scientists were just as busy. The other staff working around the A.R.K. were wary of her and treated her like the thinnest of glass when they weren't busy patronizing her.

She rocked her legs faster, hoping it would fly her out of there and let her dive into the stars until she could land in the soothing atmosphere of her home planet.

It was hard enough pretending to be a well-behaved child as it is, but to be a Robotnik with the highest expectations for success, to be gravely sick, to be stuck on this metal box going through space.

Other kids didn't have to deal with nearly this much, didn't have to think about almost this much, and didn't have to feel like such a burden that needed an entire army to keep her alive.

She sighed, thinking about how tightly Shadow had hugged her before he left. Before he went off to go through some more unimaginable pain for her.

It was her fault. It's all her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault.

She had been so distracted thinking about it that she bombed her latest math quiz, and her teacher had to inform her guardian.

"Apply yourself more, Maria. I know you can. You are a Robotnik," her Grandfather had scolded her. "Think about your future."

Fine. She said to herself. I will.

When she was very young, Maria wanted to be a nurse. That was before she got N.I.D.S. and before the doctors failed to save Grandmother.

So, nowadays, she much prefers becoming a school teacher...an explorer...or maybe a botanist...

Her family would be delighted with her being a botanist. Botany is a branch of biology, a type of science. And everyone knows that Robotniks were scientists. Well—except her parents. They had been G.U.N. Agents. One day, they went off on a mission, leaving her under the care of her grandparents.

And they never came back.

Since that day, Maria had started imagining a world where they had never left, where they had taken her on adventures with them, and where she had superpowers that could help them protect the world; it distracted her from all the pain.

She also used to dream of riding on unicorns across the sky, of being a mermaid deep in the ocean, not fearing the water for a second, of being a lost princess who needed to help save the kingdom from some ruffians, thus proving herself worthy of the throne.

Nowadays, her imagination is more sophisticated.

She was a traveler, going about the world with only a pack and a map to guide her. She would sleep under the stars, help people where she could, and make friends.

There would be endless possibilities in front of her.

Her daydreams started to sept into actual dreams. She usually forgot them very quickly, but still, some stuck.

She was fast. Very fast. Like the wind.

And she was strong. She was a lot stronger than she was in real life.

She was able to battle ancient evils.

She protected those who couldn't defend themselves.

But most of all, she was happy.

Happy to be alive. Glad to be free. Happy to help others be free.

They were strange dreams.

She had the wildest imagination. Grandmother had always told her so.

"One day, Maria. You need to write down these things. You could be an author. So many people would enjoy your stories. Then it won't be yours anymore; it'll be something everyone who reads can share the experience of." But Maria never did. She was content back then, just living with the adventures in her mind.

Huh. Should she start? She could be a writer.

Grandfather would hate it, of course. Not only was it a creative field, but it was a field he had seen dear Grandmother struggle to succeed in. He always told her that while books bring readers knowledge and enjoyment, all their authors received in return was misery.

But even if Grandmother sold barely any of her work, she still seemed happy.

Happy.

That's what Maria wanted to be more than anything. She had tried hard but couldn't bring herself to be since the day she was brought up here.

Grandmother said being happy was a great gift you can give to yourself and others. She said being happiest was about being free but also safe and considerate.

But she'd never be free as long as she was up here. And as much as she appreciated being kept alive, she also wouldn't mind coming down to Earth and letting herself go. To stop this project and let everyone also be free and happy.

But she knew that wouldn't happen.

That she'd never be free again.

Shadow would be someday. He'd see Earth; she was sure of it. And she'd do anything to make that happen, to give him the chance to. After everything he sacrificed for her, he deserved that at least.

Maria's case had been hopeless from the start. The doctors had been surprised she was still kicking when she got her diagnosis. She was surprised she had been kept alive this long.

The poor people brought her up to save her. She had wasted their time and everyone's time.

Poor Grandfather would lose another person in his life after everything he did to save her.

Poor Shadow would feel he's failed her. In reality, he's saved her in so many ways.

None of them could save her when Death walked through those doors. And she knew it was coming.

It had managed to follow her from Earth, beckoning her every night. It stared at her from the window into her bedroom, calling her.

Maria.

She would hold Shadow tighter and bury herself into his shoulder, silently begging it to disappear. She didn't want to do this yet. She hadn't spent nearly enough time with him to go now.

And every night, the voice grew louder.

Maria.

She would wrap her head under her blanket while waiting for it to pass. I waited for it to get tired of calling her. And it was getting tired of waiting.

Maria was happy she had made it this long, but most didn't. The doctors said it was because of the stuff they were giving her. Grandfather said it was because she was strong.

It must be the former because Maria didn't feel strong.

There were so many things she still wanted to do and experience.

She wanted to meet people, have friends, and be someone people could turn to so that no one would ever feel as weak as she did.

Whooooo.

A guard with silver hair huffed as he put his whistle back in his pocket. Then, he pressed buttons on a console next to him to open the doors.

Playtime was over.

She sighed as she stepped over her swing, prepping herself for the grueling task of getting ready for bed in her condition.

Then she could dream of all those adventures she'd never get to go on.

Oh, well, maybe in another life.