Chapter 2: Parts of the Past

Sonic lay sprawled on the roof later that afternoon, drifting into a light slumber.

Running at full speed and thwarting Eggman's latest schemes were his usual pastimes, but

soaking up the sun's rays was a close second. It was the perfect way to unwind and ease his

mind… or it usually was. This time, though, it didn't seem to be doing the trick. But then again,

this wasn't a usual situation.

Normally, Sonic knew what to expect. He was no stranger to dealing with kidnappings, chaos

emeralds, shady government agents, chili dogs, or the ever-present threat of Eggman. Those

were all things he could handle, problems he knew how to fix. But today, something was

different. Today, the issue was something he'd never really had to deal with—and he wasn't sure

how to approach it.

Chris was keeping a secret from him, and that was rare. He had no idea what it was, but

something about it felt... off. The worst part was that, in Sonic's experience, whenever Chris

kept a secret, it was usually tied to something huge—something important in a way that couldn't

be ignored. Family drama, covert operations, Sakura... those were just a few examples of things

Sonic would consider monumental. So why was Chris hiding something now?

What's going on with him? Sonic wondered. What could possibly be bothering Chris this much?

I mean, this kid's faced robots, aliens, deadly traps, the government... even Eggman wielding

chaos emeralds! What could scare him more than that? And why is he covering up Sakura's real

identity? It's not like it's the happiest memory to share, but... why hide the truth?

"UGH! All this thinking is giving me a headache!" Sonic groaned, massaging his temples.

"Then maybe you should stop. After all, everyone knows thinking isn't your strong suit," came a

gruff voice from behind him.

Sonic shot up instantly, his body poised for a fight. But he relaxed the moment he saw his old

friend, Knuckles, standing there with an amused smirk on his face.

"Hmph. You're one to talk. To be honest, I forgot you even knew you had a brain inside that

head of yours," Sonic quipped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Knuckles growled, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing important," Sonic teased.

"Is that a jab at my intelligence?" Knuckles's voice dropped, and a defensive edge crept in.

"Because I'll have you know, I've got above-average street smarts."

"And where exactly do those 'street smarts' come from?" Sonic raised an eyebrow. "Wherever it

is, I'm making sure I never go there."

Knuckles glared at him, but Sonic only shrugged. "So, what brings you here today, anyway?"

"I was looking for Chris. Is he around?" Knuckles asked, his gaze scanning the roof.

Sonic's attention snapped to Knuckles. "Depends. Why do you want to know?"

"That's none of your business. Is Chris here or not?" Knuckles asked, his tone turning impatient.

When Sonic didn't respond, he began to walk off. "Okay. I guess I'll just find him myself."

But before Knuckles could take another step, Sonic's hand caught his shoulder, stopping him.

"Sonic! When did you… what are you—" Knuckles faltered, surprised by the serious, even

troubled expression on Sonic's face. "What's going on?"

"Knuckles…" Sonic's voice was quieter than usual as he looked down at the ground, struggling

to find the right words. "If you notice anything... off about Chris, you have to tell me.

Immediately."

Off? What do you mean? Has something happened? Knuckles thought, but he kept his voice

steady.

Sonic shook his head. "Not that I know of. But he's been acting strangely since this morning. It's

not like him… and I'm worried."

Knuckles grunted, crossing his arms.

He's a kid, Sonic. He's probably just stressed or tired. He's been through a lot for someone his

age.

Sonic nodded, but his eyes stayed fixed on Knuckles. I know. But there's something about today

that feels different. I don't want him to slip into a funk that he can't shake. So, just... keep an eye

on him, alright?

Knuckles paused, his gaze softening. "Sure. But you're probably overthinking this. We all get

weird sometimes."

Sonic watched as Knuckles turned and headed down the street, the burden of his concerns

lightened slightly knowing that someone else would be looking out for Chris.

Chris was a good kid—maybe too good for his own good. He had dealt with more stress than

any kid should, and while Sonic had always admired his resilience, it wasn't lost on him that

Chris had missed out on some of the simpler joys of childhood. Most kids didn't spend their time

worrying about the world's survival. They worried about school, friends, and how many chili

dogs they could eat in one sitting—not life or death situations that would make any adult break

into a cold sweat.

What would it have been like if Chris didn't have to deal with all of this? Sonic thought. If he

could've just lived a normal life, no deadly stakes hanging over him?

The more Sonic thought about it, the more he realized how much Chris had sacrificed in the

name of saving the world. And yet, through it all, Chris always found time to worry about others,

to care about them. Sonic couldn't help but wonder how he did it. He spent his own days

rushing to save the day, but even he couldn't compare to the level of compassion Chris showed

every day.

How does he do it? Sonic wondered. I spend my days saving people from danger, but I still can't

compare to how much compassion Chris has for others, or his ability to think about them first

before myself sometimes.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Sonic returned to the roof, lying back down in his previous

spot. Within minutes, his body surrendered to the pull of sleep.

SONIC'S DREAM

Ugh, why does my head hurt so much? Sitting up, Sonic rubbed his head, trying to quiet the

thumping in his ears. Whatever I was doing, it must've been quite a ride.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a dark hallway.

"Where am I?" he muttered. The walls were lined with doors, each one framed by intricate rose

vines, their sharp thorns glistening ominously. The roses themselves seemed to bloom as the

day passed, each corner of the door adorned with clusters of flowers. Room numbers were

marked beside each door, like in a hotel.

As Sonic walked down the hallway, he noticed something peculiar at the end of each corridor: a

large, heavy-framed painting resting on a table. Two vases of white roses flanked either side of

the painting. Each picture was nearly identical, yet subtly different. The background was the

same, but the faces were distorted, too blurry to make out any details.

What is this place? Sonic thought, his pulse quickening. Why does it feel so wrong?

At the first table, Sonic read the metal plate: Holly Catfill. He glanced at the picture and saw a

woman with long blonde hair. The next table read Bill Rayhala—the picture showed a well-built

man with dark hair. Other tables were more disturbing. Only first names, like Helen, Mary, and

Ben, were visible. The faces were obscured—just gender, barely anything more.

Sonic's skin prickled as an unsettling feeling washed over him. He wasn't alone.

I'm being watched, he realized, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

He glanced around, but the corridor was empty, eerily quiet. His instincts told him to keep

moving. Slowly, cautiously, he walked further down the hall. He could feel something watching

him, breathing down his neck, but whenever he turned around, there was nothing.

A sudden rattle echoed from somewhere in the building, making Sonic freeze. He spun around,

but... nothing was there. However, something had changed. The table and roses were still in

place, but the picture had shifted—now it was blank. The third vase on the table held a bouquet

of blue roses.

What the heck? Sonic thought, his heart racing. What's going on here?

A note was tucked inside the thorns. Hesitant, Sonic reached in and tried to pull it free, only to

prick himself on the sharp thorns. After a few failed attempts, he finally grasped the paper and

pulled it out, but not without cutting his hand on the thorns.

"OW! This is ridiculous," he grumbled, carefully untying the ribbon holding the note shut. The

neat handwriting read:

"To have and to hold, or is what I have foretold.

To keep your friends near, or let them fall to tears.

A picture can hold a thousand words, is what you've heard,

But they can hold so much more. All you need to do,

Is know what to look for..."

What's that supposed to mean? Sonic frowned, rereading the cryptic message. What am I

missing?

Turning back to the table, he gasped. The vase was gone.

His heart raced. How had I missed that? He checked under the table, then glanced down the

hall—but it was nowhere to be found.

Sonic sighed, about to move on, when he noticed something else on the table. A name he

recognized—Christopher Thorndyke. His stomach dropped. Slowly, he turned to the picture. A

shape was beginning to form within the blank frame—someone with red hair, a shorter build,

and a familiar face.

This can't be a coincidence, Sonic thought. I've got to get out of here.

"Guess I'd better find a way out of here," Sonic muttered, scanning the hall.

But just as he turned to leave, a set of double doors appeared out of nowhere, adorned with

roses. His jaw dropped.

How could I not have seen those? He darted toward the doors, running full speed. As he

crashed through, the world was consumed by blinding light.

For what felt like hours, there was only light. Then, faintly, he heard a voice.

"Sonic! Come on, now, Sonic! Time to wake up."

With a groan, Sonic blinked his eyes open. He was back on the roof, and standing over him was

Tails, grinning widely.

"Hmm? What's up, buddy?" Sonic asked, sitting up.

"Nothing really. Ella finished dinner, so I thought I'd let you know." Tails winked. "Okay, I'll be

right there."

Sonic grinned back. "Thanks, Tails. I'll be right there."

Tails smiled and turned to leave but paused, his expression shifting slightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Sonic asked, noticing the change.

"It's nothing," Tails said quickly, but then added, "Have you seen Chris lately? I haven't seen him

since he left in a hurry. I was hoping to ask him about it."

Sonic frowned. Not since lunch. He shook his head. Have you tried asking the others?

Tails nodded. "Yeah. No one's seen him for a while. I'm sure he's

just out with Helen and the others."

Sonic nodded absently, but his thoughts wandered back to Chris's strange behavior. Probably

just stressed out...

But something about it still didn't sit right.

As he headed for the house, he felt something underneath his foot. He bent down and found a

small piece of paper tied with a ribbon.

Curious, he opened it, his eyes widening as he read:

"To have and to hold, or is what I have foretold...

To keep your friends near, or let them fall to tears.

It's the same note...

But... the words are the same! There's no mistake! This is the note...

A picture can hold a thousand words, is what you've heard,

... from my dream...

But, they can hold so much more. All you need to do,

Is know what to look for..."

...This can't be good.

End of Chapter