C3: Secretly suffering.
Sonic and the others return to Green Hills - but Tom is convinced something isn't right.

Tom's instinct kept bugging him.

Something, fucking something, kept hissing in his ear that something was wrong, that it wasn't adding up. Tom counted everyone at least six times before he began counting the ceiling tiles in an attempt to sleep. His gaze would flit to each of his boys, and check they were ok. Knuckles had taken his place as the oldest brother. He was lightly burned at the edges, crisp, but not cooked. His back was an interesting collection of purples and blues, and a few cuts littered about, but nothing that wouldn't heal with a few day's rest. He sat, hard off in the plastic yellow chair, almost parallel to Tom's bed. His arms were firmly crossed, but his eyes were shut. It was obvious that he'd fallen asleep while keeping watch.

His eyes slipped along the trimmings of the wall and landed on the youngest of the family - his little yellow ball of fur. Tails - the baby. He was curled up in Maddie's lap, facing the large window of the private room. How nice of G.U.N to pay the bill for this?! His wife of a decade was relaxing against the wall, snoozing lightly, loosely hugging the yellow critter. Tails was slightly more chargrilled than his older brother, but still not quite cooked. The very tips of his tails were a dark brown instead of their usual white. He wasn't quite as bruised as Knuckles, but he had very faint markings on his legs and arms. He slept soundly in Maddie's arms, his tails curling around her legs to keep her warm.

It was, after all, only one am. The window was nice, but it only had a thin set of foldable drapes that barely kept the cold out. Tom had barely left Montana, never mind America, but he'd heard stories of how cold the UK was. He'd laughed it off, joking along with the rare Brits that stopped by in Green Hills to see the infamous blue blur - but by god, they were right. It truly was miserable in the UK - cold and wet, but the Brits didn't seem bothered. In fact, they'd sigh, pull up a hood and get on with their day.

Much like the Texans with their extreme heat, Tom supposed.

His eyes drifted to the bed, where the middle child lay... well... Tom uses that word generously. Sprawled like he fell from the fifteenth floor of the hospital. But then again, Sonic was always a messy sleeper - he never woke up in the same position he went to sleep in. To be honest, Sonic hardly ever woke up in bed. He'd squirm around so much, to the point where he literally would fall out. Sonic was by far the most chargrilled of them all. Where Knuckles laid in rare cook, and Tails in medium, Sonic was firmly in well done. His fur was blackened, and most of all his quills - what was still there, at least. Most of them were there, but they were black with burns. His chest was ashy, and his face was bruised, though not quite as bad as Knuckles' back. Tom moved his hand to rub Sonic's back, trying to elicit some kind of reaction. In all the hours he'd been awake (maybe six in the last eighteen), Sonic had been asleep. But then again, so had either Tails or Knuckles. It would seem that something big had happened in the last few days that well and truly fucked them all.

Sonic twitched slightly, mumbling in his sleep, but he didn't wake.

Tom tried to play it off, but something was in his ear.

Green Hills - 1:56 pm.

Thank GOD G.U.N had transport rings. Tom would've rather died than been stuck on a fifteen-hour flight with his air-sick wife and three golden retriever children.

Tom was allowed to potter around the house, thank fuck. He was gonna go clinically insane if he stayed still for one more fucking second. Now he understood how Sonic felt. Speaking of: Tom glanced around, wincing when his ribs pulled taught. Sonic was sat on the opposing chair, skimming through a comic book, his head drooping as he read. Tom watched as he blinked harshly a few times, then rearranged himself to sit straighter. "Buddy, why don't you get some shut-eye?" Tom broached, twisting so his ribs were slightly less tight. Hey, he's still on some pretty hardcore drugs. Sonic whirled up to face him. "You're awake!" He grinned.

Tom wasn't convinced.

"I've been awake for a while, bud." He replied gently. "I saw you falling asleep over there." Sonic flushed slightly. "Yeah, that's my bad. I was up catching up on my comics till late." He rubbed his neck, then stopped with a light hiss. Tom nodded in his direction. "Stiff neck?" He asked. Sonic hummed. "Yeah. You'd think being an alien means I wouldn't break as easily as you fragile humans." He joked. Tom gasped in fake offence. "I was gonna offer you a neck rub, but you can - as the Brits say - get stuffed." He looked away petulantly. Sonic huffed. "Get stuffed? Dude, you were in London for less than two weeks. You don't have enough loyalty points to speak their language yet." Tom scoffed. "They still speak English, buddy. Just... posh, I guess." Sonic hummed. "I'll admit you're right there. Spot o' tea!" He snickered.

Tom snorted. "Maddie and I joked about that and we got the foulest look from the charge nurse. They do not speak like that and will probably kill you if you ask them it." Sonic giggled. "I wish I could've seen more of London." He sighed lightly. Tom shifted upright, chewing lightly on his lip as Sonic rubbed his neck again. "Still want that rub?" He asked. Sonic glanced up briefly, hesitation dancing in his eyes. "Are you allowed?" Tom shifted further upright. "I can sit up, Sonic. I'm rubbing a neck, not running a marathon." He gestured to the ground, ignoring the painful grinding of his mending ribs.

Tom began rubbing the tops of his shoulders, moving steadily to her mid-neck. Sonic hunched over, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. A few minutes passed before Tom approached the subject that had been eating away at his mind for over six days. "So I talked to Knuckles the other day," He began. "About what happened," Sonic hummed. "After I was Shadow-ed." Tom apparently found a sore spot on the neck, for Sonic released a low hiss, reminding him of the ever-present fact that he wasn't of Earth - something only an alien could do. "Dad," He ground out. "Please don't touch my quills. They're black for a reason. They hurt." He hissed. Tom hesitated slightly, but after a few beats, continued to try and relax the tense muscles. "Sorry, buddy. I didn't realise." Sonic returned to his slouched position. "What do you mean? Like, after Shadow fucked up your ribs?" He asked quietly. Tom chose to ignore the slip. "Yeah."

"What did he say?" Tom pulled his hands back, clenching and unclenching his fingers to fight off the cramps. "Not much. Just enough to answer, but not enough to answer, you know?" Sonic nodded. "Yeah… um… well… a lot happened. What specifically?" Sonic's remaining quills bristled, either in pain, agitation or simply just because Tom didn't know. "From the moment Shadow hit me, I have nothing until I woke up in the hospital. What happened?" Tom asked.

If it were possible, Sonic's body grew even tenser. "Um… I'm not the guy to ask about that. Mom went with you. We stayed behind." Tom nodded. "I know. Maddie can tell me that much. It's what you guys did to end up so bruised and, well, burned in your case. Did you go and fight in a volcano or some shit?" Sonic chuckled. "Or something." Tom poked his shoulder. "Hey, come on. I'm trying to talk to you like an adult." Sonic sighed. "We... neutralized Eggman." Tom snorted. "I'd gathered that much, but the way you're wording it makes me feel like there's something else to this."

Sonic's quills twitched beneath his hands. Tom's eyes narrowed.

"How much more else is there to this story, Sonic?" The blue blur shifted. "Nothing." Tom shook his head. "What aren't you telling me, Sonic?"

His body tensed. "Dude, seriously, nothing else happened, ok? I don't wanna talk about it." Tom huffed. "Well, that statement's already changed. So what is it? Nothing, or something, and you just don't wanna say?"

Sonic lept up. "Nothing, ok!? Get off my fucking back!" His body crackled with electricity. Tom raised his hands. Sonic yelped as he glanced down, frantically patting his body, trying to send off the bolts of lightning. When he glanced up, his eyes were wide and fearful. "Sonic-" Tom began. "I'm so sorry." The cobalt speedster rushed out, his body living up to the aforementioned nickname, and speeding out of the room, leaving Tom's head reeling twice as fast.