Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the farthest room from the apartment’s front door, there is a cocoon. It is made from black and red tendrils coiling over one another, braided so thickly that nothing can pierce through it. This cocoon hangs from the ceiling from a thinner bundle of red-black tendrils. It is also supported by a similar bundle holding it up from the carpet. Together, these bundles keep the cocoon from falling over or spinning due to the air conditioning. The cocoon remains upright and imposing, casting shadows against the wall behind it and the nursery items—like toys and a cradle—in the room alongside it.

Two figures sit on the ground in front of the cocoon. The one closest to the window—and sitting in the sunlight pouring through the glass—is Sonic the Hedgehog, the Blue Blur and Hero of Mobius. He does not sit in a singular position. He constantly flits around, putting his limbs in new and increasingly weirder arrangements in order to expel the energy building inside of him. The only constant is the hopeful look in his viridescent eyes and the expectant smile on his face. He stares at the cocoon, constantly drifting closer towards it.

The reason he has reached the cocoon already is because of the second figure—the one sitting beside him. Shadow the Hedgehog sits on his haunches. His paws remain flat in his lap unless he needs to grab Sonic’s shoulder to pull the cerulean hedgehog back a few feet. The expression on his face is not easily decipherable, but there are subtle clues including a prevalent tension in his limbs and the constant narrowing and relaxing of his eye muscles as he stares at the cocoon. His hope is a softer, dimmer thing than that of Sonic’s, but it stubbornly persists in the spaces of his carmine irises.

Although they have already waited five weeks for this, they are both brimming with impatience for the final stretch. Shadow decidedly hides it better than Sonic does, but it wouldn’t be accurate to say that he does feel the pangs of frustration at having been made to wait for so long. He tempers it with the knowledge that those five weeks were necessary. Any sooner, and he and Sonic would be worrying about a whole different situation.

But it can’t be longer than five weeks, either, which is likely why a quiet, relieved noise leaves his lips when the tendrils begin pulling apart. Sonic’s noise is far louder, and his paws reach up to cover his mouth when his twitching ears notice the noise. Shadow reaches forward to take one of Sonic’s paws. Sonic lets it happen, squeezing back to show that he’s aware of Shadow even if he won’t turn away from the cocoon. Getting angry about this would be hypocritical since Shadow, too, cannot pull his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of them.

The tendrils pull in opposite directions from each other as if a pair of invisible hands were unbraiding them. As soon as enough of them are gone, a green liquid begins spilling from the numerous holes. It drops onto the floor, soaking into the carpet. The smell is atrocious, and the stain is going to be tedious to get out, but neither Sonic or Shadow pull away. Sonic even tries getting closer, but Shadow, again, holds him back. They have to let the process happen on its own, no matter how much they both want to help.

While a majority of the tendrils are moving, they start to form an opening. The green liquid leaves in a rush, hitting the ground so hard that it splashes against Sonic and Shadow. The latter, at least, has a moment where he tries wiping it off his fur. He freezes when his ears twitch with a noise. It isn’t coming from him or Sonic; it’s coming from inside the cocoon. Sonic must have heard it, too, for his eyes search the darkness inside the cocoon for the exact source.

Shadow’s mind suddenly understands what the noise is. It’s crying. There are clicks interwoven between each wet noise, and eventually, screaming is thrown into the mix. Sonic jolts forward. He removes his gloves in a flurry, throwing them over his shoulder without a care. With his bare paws, he reaches into the hole between the tendrils. He is unafraid of the darkness, and his only reaction to touching the green liquid are his facial muscles twitching, trying in vain to look disgusted. He never manages this emotion because his eyes suddenly widen. He sucks in a tight breath, and an open-mouthed smile pulls his lips upward. Sonic rocks back onto his heels, and there is now something in his paws—there is someone in his arms.

Shadow shuffles forward. He moves an arm around Sonic, setting his chin on blue and peach-colored fur. Shadow looks around Sonic to find a tiny hoglet settling in the crook of Sonic’s elbow. Although the hoglet is covered in the green liquid and their eyes have not yet opened (nor will they for a while longer, same as the hoglet’s ears), Shadow is already able to notice a few similarities between him, Sonic, and the little one including a dark color scheme (Shadow) and a loud voice (Sonic).

“It’s a boy,” Sonic whispers under his breath. He starts gently moving his fingers around the hoglet’s face, trying to wipe the green liquid off as best he can. After a moment, Sonic simply lifts the hoglet to lick it off. Shadow narrows his eyes slightly, but there’s nothing he can do. It’s a hedgehog instinct, and Sonic is nothing if not connected to his instincts (unlike Shadow, but that’s a matter for another time).

“We’ll have to pick a name now,” Shadow says. Sonic hums in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t offer anything. They were putting off naming the child until after they came out of the cocoon, both because they didn’t know the gender and because their names came from characteristics about themselves so they thought the naming convention for their child should follow.

Sonic moves the hoglet away from him. He turns to Shadow with an actually disgusted expression now, but there’s an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes. “That stuff tasted terrible. We’re definitely having chili dogs tonight.”

“Focus,” Shadow reminds him, rolling his eyes. Sonic chuckles, and Shadow gets the feeling that they’re eating chili dogs tonight whether he wants to or not. Shadow isn’t in the mood to argue, however, not after what just happened—after the birth of their kid. Shadow is going to have trouble wrapping his head around that one even though he was the one to mix their DNA and make the cocoon in the first place.

There are many conversations to be had, but something happens before one could be started. A jingling noise fills the air, similar but ultimately different to the chaos emeralds. Seven gemstones—hexagonal, not diamond-shaped—suddenly appear in the air around Sonic and Shadow. Sonic pulls the hoglet closer to his chest, trying to protect the little one. Shadow moves his arms around them both. He stares at them as they continue spinning faster and faster around them.

“The Time Stones?” Sonic murmurs, recognizing them from a past adventure.

The Time Stones spiral inward. Instead of going into Shadow or Sonic as most mystical items are wont to do, they simply pass right through them to enter the hoglet. Both of them stare down at the hoglet as he starts crying. His dark fur glows brighter and brighter, flaring into a brilliant, snowy white. In the next instant, he’s gone. There isn’t anything more to it. In one second, there was a hoglet in Sonic’s arms, and in the next, there’s only empty air. 

Disbelief and panic radiate through both Sonic and Shadow. For a long moment, they are incapable of doing anything other than processing. Sonic moves first. He launches himself onto his feet, his jaw setting and fingers closing into fists. Before he can run off, Shadow grabs his wrist. In a voice that’s harsher than he intended it to be, he demands, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find our kid,” Sonic declares, tearing his wrist from Shadow’s hold. Blue light silhouettes his figure before he’s running off, leaving Shadow behind.

In an undocumented location known as the Nebula, Doctor Lyra sits in a spinning chair at a desk stretching from one wall to the opposite one. The chair faces toward one of those walls rather than the edge of the desk, giving Lyra enough room to cross one leg over the other. This allows her thigh to hold up the tablet she’s taping a gloved finger across. Her other elbow rests on the desk’s flat surface, allowing her fingers to hold up her head by her chin.

With a heavy sigh, she places the tablet on the desk. The human rises to her feet. She winces as her chaos-poisoned legs are forced to support her weight. She braces herself against the desk with one hand, but this doesn’t do her any good. Her hands are as fallible as her legs, and the pain ricochets throughout her entire body. 

Lyra pushes off the desk when she feels her pathetic behavior has gone on for long enough. An extraordinarily high pain tolerance permits Lyra to walk from one side of the room to the other. She turns her back toward the desk and the many, many papers and machines stacked haphazardly on top of it. Her eyes, instead, glance at the many glass containers on the wall behind her. Each one is filled with a transparent liquid and an organic lifeform. Each lifeform is at a different stage of life from conception all the way to a hoglet.

Unfortunately, they are all dead. They are, for lack of a better word, failures. There is no shame in it. Lyra knows that there are bound to be many failures in projects such as this one. In fact, Project Aether was estimated to have many of them. Lyra told the Scions of Chaos that when they came to recruit her for this project. They claimed to understand, mentioning how Gaia and Sky weren’t compatible and Chaos would want a perfect vessel.

Despite being a scion herself (as evidenced by her new name, ‘Lyra,’ the constellation named after the tool Orpheus used to enter and leave the Underworld alive), Lyra does not believe in their religious doctrine about Gaia, Sky, and Chaos. She only joined to get access to their resources. She was also fascinated by their ideas for Project Aether. She’s done her own research into Sonic the Hedgehog and Shadow the Hedgehog. She knows they’re two powerful entities with extreme, precise control over chaos energy. She’s always longed to study them—especially after the chaos energy she was constantly working with poisoned her body—but she will settle for studying their DNA.

And if Project Aether will finally prove successful, she will be more than satisfied with studying their offspring.

Lyra moves away from the glass tubes. At the far end, there are several machines including a switch that will clean out the tubes. Lyra will need to begin anew. She has better ideas this time, however. She’s learning from her failures by studying their DNA and figuring out what went wrong—what wasn’t coding properly. Lyra even has a means to fix minor issues now, though it won’t be effective on major ones. Lyra doesn’t like putting her trust in hope, but that’s all she can do in instances such as this one.

Lyra starts the walk back to her desk, but she notices something in her peripheral vision. She turns around slightly, narrowing her eyes. All of the tubes have been cleared except for one. It’s at the very end of the line-up. Lyra draws closer to it. She puts a gloved hand on the glass confines, flattening her palm. There’s an organic lifeform inside the glass container. This one has matured to the point of looking like a hoglet. It would have already been born if it were inside a regular womb.

Lyra grabs her tablet. She returns to the glass tube. Her eyes flick up to it and back down to the screen several times. Finally, she pulls the correct information up. This one is still alive. It is the first one who has matured to this rate. Lyra frowns, wondering how she missed that. She notices, then, that the hoglet was dead for a little while. Either the machine was faulty, or the hoglet’s heart did stop and restart somewhere along the line. That is a curiosity Lyra will have to look into. For now, however, she needs to send word to her subordinates and the Scions of Chaos’ inner circle.

After the message is sent out, Lyra will start analyzing everything she can about this one. There’s no guarantee that it will make it to the Scions of Chaos want the vessel to be; there’s a chance it won’t even survive the night. But it has survived this long, and there’s valuable information that can be gleaned from that for future attempts.

Lyra tilts her head back to the glass tube, staring right at the hoglet floating inside the transparent liquid. She regards it quietly before saying, “Congratulations, subject. Keep up the good work.”

Chapter Text

A vibrant blue light streaks across the landscape. It weaves between the trees, ascends and descends with the hills and valleys, and skirts along any ponds or rivers cutting through the environment. It is faster than the wind and the sunlight, running alongside both and rarely letting a shadow join it as it moves. This streak belongs to none other than Sonic the Hedgehog. He is a Mobian with many titles, but none of them seem to matter when he’s running through his homeland at speeds that very few are able to match and no one can overcome. They certainly don’t matter to him much even when he’s standing idle, but like this, it feels as if he could outrun even the expectations laid so heavily upon his shoulders.

Sonic, however, is not running right now because he wants to have fun or escape responsibility. He’s running with a goal in mind; he’s running toward something specific.

It starts with the air around him. The wind is sharper and colder as it switches which direction it’s hitting him from every few seconds. This alone would be cause for concern, but Sonic immediately senses how charged the atmosphere is. It’s similar to thick electricity, but there’s something different about it. More than that, it’s something familiar. The same chaos energy that thrums throughout his body is swirling around him. Except, there are nuances in the energy that tells Sonic that whatever is happening inside of him is distinct from what the surrounding environment is going through. Someone else is filling the air with their chaos energy, letting it spread out in a wide radius.

It gets even heavier when dark gray-black clouds cover the sky. Sonic no longer feels any sunlight against his shoulders. If not for the humidity in the air retaining the previous heat, the world would have been dropped unceremoniously into freezing cold temperatures. They are, however, making their way there, and Sonic can prove this as a shiver races down his spine. The storm has hardly just begun, yet the temperature is already dropping rapidly.

Despite this, it is not snow but rather rain that falls from the heavens like the sky is crying. The droplets are thin and sharp. Some are as cold as the air while others are a few degrees away from boiling into steam. Regardless of which extreme it’s at, the raindrops hurt Sonic all the same when they drip onto his cobalt blue fur and quills. They reach all the way to his flesh, steadily turning him into either a frozen statue or the meat tenderizing in a broth. Sonic can outrun some droplets, but there are too many of them everywhere for him to avoid them all.

The tempestuous wind, the chaos energy in the air, the darkness, the temperature, and the rainwater that feels differently would turn anyone away. In fact, when Sonic finally does stop at the summit of a hill, he knows that anyone else would have gotten violently ill if they made it to the same place he is. Sonic himself is starting to feel a tad nauseous as the storm contends against his internal systems. Sonic, however, is not someone who allows himself to puke (that would be wasting the chili dogs he ate!), so he just pushes down the bile growing in his throat. He shakes his limbs, trying to loosen himself up despite how much the storm wants to tear him down. Sonic has made it this far, and there’s a reason he’s here.

The reason is the building at the heart of the storm. At least, it was a building at one point. While the outer edges of the storm aren’t harming the environment, the center has completely blasted apart the building. There is debris everywhere in the bowl between sloping hills. The main structure is barely holding onto the many walls forming it, and the majority of the roof has already abandoned it. One of its towers attached to the building’s side has even fallen over. The storm seems specifically intent on destroying the building. That’s made abundantly clear by the simple fact that lightning is only striking the place when the storm is covering a wide area.

Sonic takes a step forward. He slides down the hill, keeping his balance so that he doesn’t go tumbling down. When he makes it to the bottom, his shoes step right into deep puddles. He can feel the water soaking through the material and his socks. Sonic’s face contorts with disgust. He rolls his shoulders, preparing to get himself out of this as quickly as possible. He doesn’t like water. He doesn’t like storms. He doesn’t like the chaos energy in the air that makes him feel ill. He’s going to get what he needs and get out as soon as possible.

And Sonic means this literally as he suddenly throws himself forward. It’s a bit difficult to grasp onto his chaos energy with so much interference around him, but Sonic is able to become the blue streak that once ran through the sunny fields earlier. His footsteps are so quick that he hardly disturbs the puddles he’s racing over. There are barely any ripples as Sonic times his entrance into the building to avoid getting struck by lightning.

Sonic decelerates once he’s inside the building. He jogs in place, looking around. He can still feel the storm, but it isn’t as terrible right now. The parts of the building that have remained standing are doing an admirable job at blocking out the rain, wind, and lightning. The chaos energy in the air, however, is almost a physical force that Sonic needs to wade through. He decides, however, to follow the currents to where the thickest, heaviest parts are. He knows that he’ll find what he’s looking for when he reaches it.

This plan of action takes Sonic to the most destroyed room of them all. In fact, it could hardly be called a room at all. The roof is completely gone. The doors are nowhere in sight. The surrounding walls have fallen over as if they were only made from paper. Whatever machinery was attached to those walls has also fallen, but the rain is too thick for Sonic to really see any details about that. 

Additionally, his focus latches onto the shadow in the center of the room—the true eye of this storm. It’s hard to tell what they are because a dark purple-tinted wind swirls around them like a tornado, protecting them from the rainwater and lightning. Through the mist, however, Sonic notices that they are clutching onto a chaos emerald. That is what Sonic came for. It is also likely the reason this chaos energy storm is happening in the first place. For his sake, for the environment’s sake, and for this shadow’s sake, he’s going to have to take it.

Sonic approaches slowly. He tries timing out the lightning bolts. They’re too random for him to do that, however, so Sonic just tries to avoid them as best he can. This is made infinitely more difficult by the wind shoving him in one direction. Sonic feels like he’s trying to force his way through solid brick walls rather than air currents. He moves his arm in front of his face. His body tilts diagonally, making his walking odd. Although he uses chaos energy to make himself faster, the wind is an equal but opposite force that slows him down to the point of genuine annoyance. 

Sonic, however, is nothing if not resilient and stubborn. He finally makes it through the wind barriers. He nearly flings himself right out the other side when there’s no more resistance against him, but he stops himself by letting gravity bring him hurtling toward the ground. The minute he lands on the uneven, cracked floor the shadow lifts their gaze away from the chaos emerald in their trembling paws to Sonic. The hedgehog smiles at them. He pushes the heels of his paws against the ground to put himself on one knee. The shadow sits between their ankles. Sonic can tell in an instant that the storm around them both isn’t what the shadow wanted to do. This is an accident—one they don’t know how to stop.

Sonic puts a friendly smile on his face. He reaches a hesitant paw forward. He sets it on their shoulder. They flinch, but they don’t pull away. Sonic continues to smile. He would speak, but the wind would capture whatever noise he would make. Instead, Sonic has to hope that his intentions are conveyed through his expression. He reaches his other paw forward. His fingers brush against the top of the chaos emerald. The shadow jerks, bringing it closer to their chest. He finds himself making a soothing sound despite knowing it won’t be heard. Sonic moves his other paw down from their shoulder. Slowly but surely, he unwraps their fingers from the chaos emerald. They don’t help him, but they aren’t hindering him either. Sonic is finally able to pull the chaos emerald from their grasp.

In an instant, the connection is broken. The storm stops as suddenly as it began. The rain disappears a second before the clouds do. The air falls motionless. There’s no lightning nor is there any energy cackling in the atmosphere. The temperature takes a little longer to warm back up, but the sun is working hard on correcting that as its golden beams fall across the wreckage and the two figures sitting in the middle of it.

Sonic puts the chaos emerald into his quills, half-worried that the other person will take it from him again. He feels bad about feeling this way when the figure collapses downward, paws bracing against the ground and shoulders folding together. Sonic wants to comfort them, but he finds his paws hesitating around them. He didn’t have the energy or time to notice during the storm itself, so Sonic thinks he should be forgiven for only picking up on certain details right now.

And there are many details that swirl inside his mind with the same ferocity as the storm from a moment prior. He vaguely knew that they were a Mobian, but now he’s realizing that they aren’t wearing clothes. That, in and of itself, is fine—a lot of Mobians don’t. But this one isn’t wearing gloves or socks, either, which is far more important. Everyone wears them. It’s part of their culture. There are implications when someone isn’t wearing them. Looking around the room, Sonic thinks that the implications right now are decidedly different from the norm.

This brings him to the second detail he noticed. They aren’t just a Mobian; they’re a child. Sonic would really like it to end there, but he realizes that they aren’t just a Mobian and a child. They’re a hoglet. They’re a hedgehog in their younger years. Sure, their quills are in complete disarray, but Sonic knows his own species fairly well. He could identify a hedgehog, and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now.

Sonic processes that for a moment. A strange building in the middle of nowhere that houses a child Mobian without gloves or socks but with plenty of machines. The storm caused by the chaos emerald is suddenly the least of Sonic’s concerns. He isn’t the best at figuring things out a lot of the time, but everything is rather obvious right now. While Sonic might not like it, he must acknowledge it.

“Hey,” He starts off, soft and quiet. He sets both of his knees onto the ground. He sits on his haunches, setting his paws on his thighs. He even turns his paws upward, trying to show that he isn’t a threat. He needs the hoglet to know that he’s here to help, not to hurt. He doubts it will be as easy as paw movements, but it’s a start in the right direction.

Sonic’s word causes the hoglet to lift their gaze from the ground. As their head tilts back, sunlight and shadows cross over their countenance. Sonic’s mouth snaps shut when they make eye contact. The hoglet has a pair of unique eyes. They have golden irises, but there are faint red cracks that resemble blood vessels spreading out toward the pupil. The red rubs off into the gold to make an orange-ish color, similar to fire. Around the iris, there is a thin ring of crimson, uninterrupted by any other color. Sonic normally would simply think the eyes were awesome and leave his awe at that. 

Unfortunately, Sonic realizes that this isn’t a normal situation because those eyes are familiar. It takes a moment for his brain to bring him the right memory, but he realizes that these eyes remind him of the Black Arms. He’s seen a few of those aliens in his time. Shadow has shown him photographs from time to time, too. In fact, Sonic has seen eyes like these on Shadow himself before. Maybe that’s why it strikes him as so familiar.

And this, Sonic thinks, is where all his troubles begin. The hoglet is still looking at him. They make no move to hide the rest of their appearance. Maybe they don’t realize that they should. Though, Sonic is glad they aren’t because it allows him to realize that the rest of the hoglet is also strangely familiar. They have black fur like Shadow, but the tips of their quills are dipped in a blue color that Sonic doesn’t need to look in a mirror to recognize. This blue extends to lines moving from their fingertips to their shoulder, or the one from their ankles to their lower thigh.

Sonic tells himself that it’s a coincidence. It must be. But hedgehogs aren’t supposed to have quills that are multiple colors. Shadow is an exception because he’s a hybrid, but everyone else? They’re just one color. This could imply that this hoglet is a hybrid, too, and Sonic decides to stick with that fact as he smiles kindly at the child. 

“Do you have somewhere else to go?”

Fortunately, the hoglet understands his words. Unfortunately, they shake their head ‘no.’ Sonic grumbles to himself, looking away from the hoglet. “That figures.”

The hoglet grows antsy at Sonic’s words. The blue hedgehog course-corrects. He offers his paw to the hoglet while putting a comforting smile on his face. “I have somewhere you can go. Would you like to come with me?”

The hoglet stares at the offered paw. There is a brief second of hesitation, but they seem fairly confident when they put their paw in Sonic’s hold. He doesn’t know if he should be thankful or not for how trustworthy the hoglet is. In the end, he can only be glad that he was the one to find them. He doesn’t want to imagine what a bad person could have done in his position. 

Sonic and the hoglet stand together, paw-in-paw. Sonic glances around the wreckage. He should probably investigate the area for clues about who this hoglet is (as if he doesn’t already know) and what the group using this base was doing. Or, more accurately, why they were doing it. Sonic, however, doesn’t think that’s the best idea with the hoglet still with him. He needs to get them out of here sooner rather than later. If this place is what he thinks it is, he doesn’t want them to stay here any longer than possible.

“Gaia.”

Sonic startles. He turns toward the hoglet. They are staring right at him with their wide gold-red eyes. Sonic’s lips twitch at the sound of their voice. “Hmm? What was that?”

“Gaia,” The hoglet repeats. The hoglet uses the paw Sonic isn’t holding, placing it on their chest. Their voice is quiet, softer than even the silence surrounding the two of them. There is also a noticeable lack of inflection placed on any of the words. “I am the Daughter of Chaos.”

Sonic squats down to look into the hoglet’s eyes. The hoglet doesn’t have any discernible reaction to Sonic’s actions. “Is that your name?”

The hoglet shakes her head. “I was given the name Astra.”

“Well, my name is Sonic.”

Astra tilts her head to the side. There’s a smidge of confusion, but she washes it away quickly with a neutral expression. She nods at him. “Sonic.”

His grin widens. “That’s right, Astra! Now, we gotta get where I said you could go. If I run, I could get us there very quickly. I would need to carry you, though, to make sure that you aren’t left behind. There’s also the option of walking there if you think you’re up for that. What do you say? What do you want to do?”

Astra doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look like she’s considering her options. Sonic tries being patient, but after a while, he finds himself unable to wait any longer for her decision. Sonic opens his arms toward Astra. She shuffles into place. Sonic smiles, lifting Astra into his arms. He makes certain she’s settled into place. His expression grows more nostalgic as he remembers carrying Tails around like this when the kit was younger and sleepy from their adventures. Astra, unlike Tails, has no expression on her face as she sits there—no embarrassment, no enjoyment, nothing.

“Hold on tight! The Sonic Express is about to pull out of the station,” Sonic jokes. Astra follows his instructions even if her brows furrow together as his words. Sonic hopes it’s not because she doesn’t know what a train is.

Sonic decides to dwell on that later as he runs forward, leaving behind the ruins and the hills surrounding it on all sides like vigilant guards. Sonic knows exactly where he’s going, too, so he puts himself on the right course for his brother’s workshop.

Astra is placed on the ground in front of the new building. It’s completely different from the Nebula. It’s made from different materials which might explain why it’s so much more colorful. Astra stares at it with wide eyes, intaking all the details. She only stops gawking when the hedgehog beside her—Gaia, she was taught, but he calls himself Sonic—knocks on the door. Astra knows what knocking means, so she waits for the door to open. She wonders if Sky is on the other side. She hopes not. She isn’t ready to meet both Gaia and Sky on the same day, especially not after what happened with the chaos emerald.

The door opens. It is not Sky. It is a fox Mobian with two tails instead of one. He rubs one of his eyes with his paw. He suddenly jolts, however, when he notices Sonic. He drops the tool in his hand. The metal hits the ground with a loud noise. Astra winces, but she suppresses any further reactions to it to avoid attracting attention to herself. She doubts she would be able to, though, because the fox seems entirely focused on the azure hedgehog. “Sonic! Where have you been? Do you know how worried everyone was? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why do you smell like ashes? What—”

“Tails!” Sonic laughs, interrupting the fox. Baby blue eyes narrow at Sonic. Astra wonders what emotions are inside Tails’ eyes. She doesn’t get a chance to piece it all together before she feels a paw on her shoulder, nudging her forward. Her faith in Gaia triumphs over her weariness to being touched, so she allows herself to be presented to Tails. 

The fox’s eyes widen impossibly at the sight of her. He lowers himself into a squatting position. His paw reaches out without touching her. “Is this—”

“No,” Sonic sharply says. Astra tilts her head back to look at him. He doesn’t look or sound angry, but she understands that whatever he is feeling is equal in intensity to rage. Sonic shakes his head. He puts a smile back on his face to comfort Astra and Tails (or to hide what he was feeling for a single second). “I found Astra in this building up north. She was conjuring a storm with a chaos emerald. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, so I thought about bringing her here. We should give her a check-up, and y’know, see if we can find some family.”

Tails blinks incredulously at Sonic. “Isn’t it obvious who her parents are?”

“We should still check,” Sonic replies smoothly. He nods his chin toward the house behind Tails. “Any chance we can come inside?”

“Of course,” Tails says. He scrambles to his feet and backs away. Astra enters the house first since Sonic nudges her shoulder again. He lets go of her, however, to close the door behind him. While he’s doing that, Astra picks the tool off the ground. She hands it to Tails. He takes it with a smile. “Thanks… um, Astra, right?”

She nods at him. Tails’ releases a breathy chuckle. “That makes sense. Your quills resemble a star.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Sonic asks, turning around to face them in the mudroom.

“Astra means star,” Tails explains to Sonic. He glances back at Astra. “Did you know that?”

She nods. “The Scions of Chaos all take the name of celestial bodies.”

“Scions of Chaos?” Tails repeats. He glances at Sonic. The hedgehog shrugs, expression clearly showing that he doesn’t know what Astra is talking about. This causes a slow frown to pull down her lips. While she could understand why Gaia and Sky would never personally visit the Nebula, she didn’t think Gaia would be unaware of the Scions of Chaos. She wonders if the scions know that the primordial they worship isn’t aware of them. She doesn’t want to feel bad for the scions, but it does plant a seed in her heart about what that means about her. Gaia wasn’t aware of her at all? Does that mean she was a failure? Will she never transform from the Daughter of Chaos to Chaos itself?

Astra’s eyes slide away from Tails and Sonic. An ugly thought unspools in her mind. She pushes it down as far as it will go, but this isn’t the first time she’s asked herself if she earnestly wants to become Chaos. She reminds herself very simply that her wants do not matter. She will become Chaos for the sake of the world, and that’s all she can really hope for given the nature of her existence.

“I’m going to grab some gloves and socks that’ll fit her. You still have your old clothes in the attic, right, Tails? I’ll see if there’s something up there that might make her more comfortable,” Sonic says, pointing upward. He begins walking away. Astra’s paw reaches out to grasp onto him, but she stops herself. Fortunately, Sonic either noticed or he senses that he missed something. He turns around, squatting in front of her again. Astra isn’t sure if she appreciates eye contact or not. It makes her feel like he respects her, but what has she done to deserve that? “This is my younger brother, Tails. He’s a super genius and really nice. He’ll take care of you while I’m looking for the stuff. I’ll be back soon, so be on your best behavior for him, alright? And if he does anything you don’t like, you’ve got my full permission to kick him.”

“Sonic—”

“Full permission,” Sonic nods solemnly. Before Tails can say or do anything in response, Sonic halfway across the house. Astra feels the cold wind ripple across her face. Chaos energy lingers for a few seconds. Its potency fades, but Astra felt enough of it. If she wasn’t sure about Sonic being Gaia before, she is certain about it now.

“Don’t tell Sonic I said this, but he’s right. I’d prefer if you just told me if you want me to stop, but I can understand a kick just as well as words,” Tails says, setting a paw on his hip. Astra nods at him. Tails smiles, and Astra finally realizes how Sonic and Tails can be brothers when they’re two different animals. They have the same smile. At least, it’s similar enough for her to feel the warmth of comfort—as fragile as a spark in a storm—arise in her chest.

Tails leads Astra toward the opposite side of the house. They step into a room that Astra both finds familiar and foreign. At a glance, it’s a laboratory or a workshop—similar to the one Dr. Lyra has. But the details are completely different. This workshop seems homier. There are details specific to Tails that show off his personality and how much he values this space. The inventions, too, seem more benign than anything the scions had in their labs.

Tails sets his paws on the back of a chair with wheels attached to it. He spins it around, presenting the chair to Astra. He smiles encouragingly at her. “Would you like to take a seat?”

Astra pulls herself into the seat. She sits on the edge, letting her legs hang over the edge. She’s prepared to leap back to the ground in case she discovers this was a trick question. Astra isn’t used to questions that require her to make a decision, and she’s never sat in one of these chairs before. Dr. Lyra has one, but that’s because of her illness, so she doesn’t like sitting in it.

“I’m going to scan you with this thing,” Tails informs Astra, pulling a tablet with a thickened yellow casing from one of the drawers. Tails lifts it toward Astra. He then lowers it slightly. “Is that alright?”

Astra blinks silently at him. The two of them are stuck in increasingly uncomfortable tension until Tails just lifts the tablet again. Astra doesn’t know what she was expecting, but she was expecting something. Instead, Tails lowers the tablet again, setting it on the desk behind Astra. She turns to look at Tails and the tablet. She doesn’t feel like anything happened to her, but the screen is showing information.

Tails chuckles suddenly under his breath. “Well, we already knew you were Sonic and Shadow’s kid just from your appearance alone, but here’s the proof. It seems you also have chaos abilities like them. Huh… but it’s different. I’ll have to look into that more…”

The door opens. Astra turns to look, but Tails’ attention remains on the tablet. Sonic bounds into the room with fabrics in hand. He sets them down on the desk on Astra’s other side. Sonic starts picking stuff off of the pile. Astra doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s putting the clothes on her. Gloves and socks, first, and then he sees if she wants to wear the silver-gray jacket with a foggy reflective surface. Astra lets him put it on while he glances up at Tails. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Sonic,” Tails chides his brother, speaking as if the words were obvious. 

“Yeah, I know.” Sonic’s lips twitch with a rueful smile. Sonic meets Astra’s eyes when the smile disappears. “Well, kiddo, looks like you’re mine and Shadow’s.” Sonic turns back to Tails. “Would you mind asking Shadow if we could meet up somewhere tomorrow?”

Tails frowns at Sonic. “Why don’t you message him yourself?”

“I blocked him. I also deleted his number, and you know how I am about remembering those,” Sonic chuckles, but he decidedly looks away from both Tails and Astra. There’s that intensity in his eyes again, something that’s not quite anger. Perhaps it’s closer to sorrow.

Tails sighs. “Fine. I’ll message him. But you’re getting his number back tomorrow.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” Sonic retorts. He sets his paw between Astra’s ears, rubbing the fur. He leans close, a mischievous smile laid out across his face. “Are you ready to meet your other dad?”

If it’s Sky, then no, she most definitely isn’t ready. But she doesn’t tell Sonic that. She doesn’t say anything at all. Tomorrow will come whether she wants it to or not, and she’ll just go along with whatever her gods tell her to do. If Gaia wants her to meet Sky, she will, and she’ll be happy about it, too, no matter how much anxiety bubbles in her stomach at the prospect. 

Chapter Text

Shadow the Hedgehog sits on a bench made from metal and wood. His arms are crossed over his chest while both feet are planted firmly on the grassy ground in front of him. His head is tilted back enough for him to see the blue sky peeking in between the branches of the tree growing over the bench. This also casts a shadow across his body, but the weather is fair enough to illuminate the park around him. The sun warms the breeze as it dances across the park, keeping Shadow from feeling cold even though it’s the perfect word to describe his stare and body language. 

The breeze carries more than warmth on its back, though. There is also the sound of children squealing and parents talking from the playground some distance away. A dog barks, and their owner gently shushes them as the two of them walk down the concrete path stretching in front of the benches—in front of Shadow. Further out, there’s a family gathering on a picnic blanket, and a group of teenagers sitting along the fountain. The afternoon hour and the seemingly perfect weather have brought everyone to enjoy the peaceful day.

Shadow isn’t here for any of the reasons they are. The reason he’s sitting in this park, staring listlessly as clouds slip into his line of sight, is because of a text message. The chat is currently open on the phone balancing on his thigh. Shadow frequently looks down to check it. Not because he expects anything new to be sent in the chat, but because there’s some part of him that expects the message to change or disappear. After everything that’s happened, the promise the singular message provides him seems too good to be true, and considering his luck in life, whatever seems to be most certainly is. 

But Tails wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this, anyway. The kit barely messages him as it is, so there’s little chance he would pull a prank unless he didn’t want Shadow ever reading and responding to his messages again.

Beneath the sound of the people in the park, Shadow hears another noise rapidly approaching him. He finds it familiar, but there’s something off about it once he recognizes it for what it is. There’s a strange echo to it like the noise itself has been doubled. Shadow frowns, tilting his head down. On top of the noise being strange, he senses chaos energy. It has the potency of an emerald but none of the refinement. It is a device that is constantly generating and expelling chaos energy. While there’s an undercurrent of regulation, Shadow knows that it isn’t consistent or indomitable. The processing system is holding itself together with the equivalent of duct tape, and considering the sheer amount of chaos energy, nothing good will come from it falling apart at the seams.

Shadow is right on the cusp of acting on his instincts when a figure running at a high enough speed to create a blue streak behind them decelerates in front of him. Sonic the Hedgehog stands there in all his glory, a smile on his face to hide the tension in his viridescent eyes. A wind slaps Shadow’s body, but that is decidedly not the reason he goes cold at the mere sight of the hedgehog he once—and still does—love.

Shadow isn’t one to speak first. Even if he did have something planned to say, he can’t find the moment, too. As soon as his shock at Tails’ text message to him being right, something else happens. A midnight blue—almost purple, almost black—streak appears next to Sonic. It would fly right past him, but he reaches down to grab onto it. From the more dark-aligned aura, a… young hedgehog condenses into a solid form. Sonic squats in front of the hedgehog, smiling at their face. “That was awesome. It seems we’ll need to work on slowing down and stopping, though, huh?”

“Sonic.” Shadow says the name definitively, like that is all he needs to say. Perhaps it is because the hedgehog in question raises his gaze from the young one he’s talking to in order to make eye contact with Shadow. Nothing is audibly said, but an exchange happens within that silence. It has been weeks since they’ve last seen each other. It’s been months since they’ve actually talked to each other. Their last conversation left them both scrambling in opposite directions, and perhaps that is the reason Sonic disappeared off the face of the planet.

“Sky.”

Sonic looks away first. Shadow follows the azure hedgehog’s gaze to the other hedgehog. Shadow wants to call them a stranger, but that wouldn’t be true. The eyes, for one, are familiar. He recalls the times he was facing down the Black Arms—the numerous occasions those creatures have resurfaced to give him trouble—with their eyes merging shades of yellow, orange, and red. The pattern in the iris is too identical for Shadow not to suspect, at least for a moment, that this little hoglet is a Black Arms in disguise.

This assumption should be proven wrong. Shadow should have permanently defeated the Black Arms; he should have made it impossible for what remaining few managed to survive to return to this planet. 

But then, Shadow’s eyes sweep across the rest of the hoglet’s appearance. While the hoglet doesn’t carry any other resemblances to the Black Arms, it’s clear that the rest of their face and body is a mixture of him and Sonic. The coloration, the quill shapes, and the one trait that really proves it to Shadow, the chaos energy. He noticed it before, but it’s stronger now that they’re motionless and standing in front of him. It radiates right off of the hoglet, thickening the air around them. Obviously, it’s dangerous, but it also carries enough familiarity that Shadow realizes why his mind immediately jumped to this hoglet resembling him and Sonic.

“Is this—”

“No,” Sonic says, quickly and quietly. Shadow narrows his brows at the interruption, both in irritation and some understanding for Sonic’s evanescent emotional states. Sonic meets Shadow’s eyes for a fraction of a second before he’s looking back at the hoglet who stares at Shadow with reverence and awe and even a tinge of fear. “This is Astra. I found her in a lab in the north.”

“A lab…” Shadow murmurs. The words loop at the forefront of Shadow’s thoughts. The rest of his mind processes everything about Astra—her appearance, her chaos energy, her origin. It stacks, one after another, different conclusions that either hold enough weight to stay or float away with their absurdity. Understanding comes in waves, a flimsiness that strengthens into comprehension. He can assume so much from the little he’s been given, yet Shadow holds off on grasping anything too tightly at the current moment until he’s learned more.

“Sky,” Astra repeats. She doesn’t point at Shadow, but her eyes are so focused that Shadow knows she’s talking about him. She might be outright referring to him. She’s so certain and serious about it, too. There’s a solemn quality to her words and expression, more similar to him than to Sonic (and how dangerous it is for Shadow to already be in the process of comparing her to the two of them, searching for additional evidence for the one conclusion that stubbornly persists).

“No, no, this is Shadow. He’s where the rest of your DNA came from.” Sonic rises from his squatting position to a standing one. He shifts his weight to stand to the side of Shadow and Astra but still between them. Sonic gestures toward Shadow. It almost feels like presenting. Shadow glares at Sonic, but it’s weakened into a hardened stare when he realizes Sonic isn’t paying attention but Astra most certainly is. Sonic, of course, is looking down at the hoglet he’s communicating with.

Sonic pats Shadow on the shoulder. There’s a friendliness in the gesture that causes Shadow’s heart to squeeze painfully tight. He grits his teeth, looking away from Sonic. No matter how he acts, Shadow knows the truth. There’s a wide chasm between them filled with nothing but tension and hurt. They can both mask it for a while, pretend it doesn’t exist, but that will not last forever. And perhaps, that is the reason why Sonic grins at Astra and says what he does next. “You’ll be staying with him from here on out. Call Tails if you need anything. I’m gonna get going now.”

Shadow turns toward Sonic incredulously. The azure hedgehog refuses to look at him. He turns, but before he can run away as he usually would, Astra grabs onto his leg. Although there’s clearly an effort put into holding as little of him as possible, she tightly grips what she’s allowed herself to touch. She squeezes tightly, pulling herself closer to him than to Shadow. Despite this, she stares at Shadow with all of her attention. There is fear in those eyes, in the irises that look far too similar to the Black Arms.

It is not a personal fear, though—not exactly. It is more like fear for fear’s sake. A fear rooted in respect or possibly reverence, this understanding that Shadow should be feared and thus she’s trying to be. The abstractness and her distance from the fear eases his heart, but the simple fact that she was taught (trained… forced… conditioned…) to be afraid of him doesn’t sit so easily in his chest. 

Sonic swivels around to face Astra. He looks between her and Shadow for several seconds. He exhales, and Shadow knows from their years together that he’s holding back a sigh. Sonic kneels beside Astra, getting right back on her level. This causes her to tear her gaze away from Shadow. She doesn’t carry as much fear now that she’s meeting Sonic’s eyes, but Shadow can’t truthfully say that it disappears. It only resembles the reverence he thought the fear originally came from more. There’s no telling what exactly happened in the laboratory she came from—what they told her about him and Sonic.

“Look, I know he looks a little scary, but I promise that he’s got the gentlest heart in the whole wide world,” Sonic tells her. Just as Sonic kept himself from sighing, Shadow refrains from hitting Sonic for his comment or even grumbling about it. He needs to be as non-threatening as possible. That’s rather difficult when nearly everything about him was made to be a weapon, but two of the most important people in his life have told him that he’s only what he chooses to be (and how heartbreaking it is for two people to be so similar yet never able to meet each other). “He’s going to be way better at taking care of you than I am. He actually has a place to sleep at night, for one. He probably also has food. And, I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but he was made in a lab, too. You two can relate to each other more than I could.”

As if his empathy isn’t strong enough for him to connect with those in situations completely opposite to him. If anyone is going to be good for this kid’s emotional wellbeing and growth, it’s going to be Sonic.

Astra, however, can only take Sonic at his word, and she doesn’t seem quite convinced. Sonic rolls his shoulders, tapping a finger against the ground beneath him. He wants to run, but he’s staying, and Shadow isn’t certain if he’s still able to accurately guess the reason why Sonic does anything. “Would you rather stay with Tails? It wouldn’t be for too long. Just until I can figure something else out.”

Astra has no reaction to that. Shadow shifts where he stands. Astra’s eyes flit toward him. Despite her fear, she doesn’t hesitate to make eye contact. Sonic, ironically, does take a moment, dragging his eyes upward like he’s a dying man staring at the grim reaper. Eventually, however, a connection is made. Through this bond, a conversation seems to pass. It is nothing dramatic or grand, even if Sonic’s expression nearly transforms into a scowl. Shadow’s lips twitch upward into a smirk, knowing that he’s gotten what he wants.

Sonic looks back at Astra, carefully composing himself. “How about this? You and I will stay with Shadow for a few days.”

In that time frame, Sonic will try to get Astra to be comfortable enough with Shadow that she’ll be fine staying with him alone. Shadow, of course, will also be putting in the work to put Astra at ease around him, but he has the added mission of… Well, he’s not quite sure yet. He only needs Sonic to stay for long enough that they’re able to talk. After that… After that he’ll figure out if there’s some way to salvage their relationship or if it’s better to cut his losses (unfortunately, his heart is not as selfless and pragmatic as his mind; it demands that he do whatever it takes to not lose Sonic again. Shadow has never been interested in following his heart after it’s left him damaged so many times, but could this—him and Sonic—be worth fighting for in this case?).

Astra doesn’t nod or shake her head. There is no agreement, but neither is there any resistance to the idea. She wears neutrality well. Shadow can’t tell if she’s truly feeling nothing or if she’s buried it so far down that it cannot be seen by an observer. He will need to learn more about her if he wants to get as good at reading her expressions as he is with Sonic or a select few others in his personal life (though, he’ll never be as good at it as Sonic, or Amy, or especially Rouge).

Sonic shoves his paws against his knees. He rises back into a standing position. He bumps his shoulder with Shadow. “Race ya to the apartment?”

“I don’t live in that apartment anymore,” Shadow admits. Sonic’s eyes widen, blinking blankly. He steps around Sonic (away from Astra so as to not spook her). Shadow glances over his shoulder while walking toward the entrance to the park. “I also drove my bike.”

“So, that was yours out there,” Sonic murmurs. He follows after Shadow. Astra lets go of his leg as she walks right behind him. From what Shadow can see, she’s staring up at him in something akin but still not quite fascination. Though, she regards the world around them with a similar expression. Sonic distracts Shadow from his passive observation, “Where do you live now?”

“You’ll see,” Shadow says. He turns forward to find his motorcycle parked outside the park. He hears Sonic audibly groan. The azure hedgehog’s conversation with Astra is muffled in Shadow’s ears because he stops paying attention. He instead gets himself into position on the motorcycle. When he looks up, Sonic and Astra are standing beside him. The latter peers into her reflection from one of the metallic parts. Sonic’s paws are on his hips. There’s a strange expression on his face as he gazes at Shadow on his motorcycle. It almost looks like homesickness—as if he’s missed this. Shadow turns away, momentarily wary that his own countenance will be similar.

“Try to keep up,” Shadow says, already pulling away from them. Sonic yells something cocky back at him. Shadow looks in his side mirror to find Sonic and Astra following after him. He knows Sonic isn’t running as fast as he could. Shadow isn’t certain if that’s the case for Astra, but it’s good that she’s getting the chaos energy out somehow. They’re going to need to get inhibitor rings for, though, else she’ll burn herself or the world around her up.

There’s a lot they’re going to have to do. Shadow’s eyes return to the road, but his thoughts are locked into an ever-growing list of what must be done, what can wait, and what needs to change. Logically, he’s more prepared for this than he thought he would be. It wasn’t that long ago that he was mentally preparing for a child at the same time he was arranging his circumstances and environment to support this conclusion. 

Emotionally, though, he knows he’s going to struggle. He was prepared for a child, and he was taken from Shadow. This loss fractured his relationship with Sonic. Without a major supporting pillar in his life, things went awry fast. Shadow has picked himself up for the most part, reassembling what pieces he could, but he feels a few more shards hit the ground as he considers how Astra is going to fit into all of this. It’s not like Shadow can abandon her. She has his DNA. She has a fraction of the Black Arms in her and an overwhelming amount of chaos energy. That makes her his responsibility. But even if it didn’t, who else is going to take care of her? It isn’t her fault that she was made, but she does exist now, and someone has to guide her. It doesn’t feel right to merely shove that onto Sonic or anyone else. 

Yet, he thinks, if he could give her up without any repercussions, would he be able to? Shadow doubts it, and oh, what a terrifying thought that is.

Shadow has more of these thoughts and draws more conclusions. Thankfully, they all come to an end when they finally reach their destination. A rather lengthy distance out of the city in the forests, there is a house. It isn’t new, but it has been worked on in recent times to modernize it. The garage, too, was added on long after the building was initially erected. It was specifically designed for Shadow’s motorcycle because he was, after all, the one who built the garage. He’s also the one who fixed up the rest of the house—bringing in new appliances, fixing any leaks in the roof, removing any mold or rot, painting the various rooms, activities like that.

“What is this?” Sonic asks, pulling up to a stop inside the garage. His voice echoes. Shadow winces, adding that as a problem he needs to fix on his to-do list.

“I bought a house,” Shadow answers, avoiding looking at Sonic or Astra.

“The apartment too small for you?” There’s a touch of amusement in Sonic’s voice, but he doesn’t allow himself to actually say the joke he has in his mind.

“Something like that,” Shadow shrugs, opening the door that connects the main part of the house to the garage (he doesn’t mention that it was too small. Shadow couldn’t go anywhere without seeing or hearing memories that he honestly doubted he was going to get back at the time. He couldn’t even walk into that damn nursery—he needed Rouge and Omega to pack it all up when he moved. He didn’t choose this house because of the size, though. He chose it because it was a project he could spend his free time on. That reason was for himself. The other reasons were not. He chose it because it was out of the city, because it was in the woods, because it seemed like the kind of place someone could come and go to as they please—everything Sonic would’ve wanted in a house).

“Gonna give us the grand tour?” Sonic steps into the house. Astra walks underneath his arm. Sonic closes the door behind them. Astra stares at Shadow. It is only when he looks away from her that he notices her looking around. He keeps Astra in his peripheral vision, gauging what she thinks and what she’s focusing on in the blurriness. His focus solidifies on Sonic whose eyes constantly flit between Shadow and something that’s trying to grab his attention.

“This is the dining room. Kitchen,” Shadow responds, pointing at the different areas of the combined room. Neither are ‘complete’ in a word. They have everything they need to qualify as a dining room and kitchen, but there’s nothing personal about them. There are no decorations or even ingredients left out on the countertops that could show what kind of person Shadow is. It’s too clean, mainly because Shadow hasn’t used either of them. He eats more at the G.U.N. offices or Rouge’s nightclub than he does his own house, and he’s never once sat at the dining table despite spending so much time setting it up (he could have finished in a flash, but he did it step by step without any chaos energy. It reminded him of how he built that crib. It was one of the few times the memories kept him grounded instead of pushing his mind out of his body).

The living room is connected to the kitchen, too, but it requires walking around a small wall with a few appliances. The living room is spacious, but that fact is hardly a concern when it is lacking even more than the kitchen and dining room is. The television is on the floor in front of a fireplace. The blankets and pillows meant to go on the couch and chairs are still folded and balanced on the coffee table. An entire wall is dominated by cardboard boxes. Some have writing on the side, but the majority are blank. Shadow knows, however, that they’re all filled with Sonic’s stuff—whatever he happened to leave at the apartment over the years. He was supposed to bring everything he owned from his friends’ and brother’s houses, but… it just never happened.

“You really kept these…” Sonic says under his breath, lifting the flaps of one of the boxes. He picks up a comic book from the stack. Shadow doesn’t recognize the superhero, but it’s familiar enough that he thinks Sonic has read about them before. Either way, Sonic turns to show Astra. She’s even more lost than Shadow would have been, but she, unlike Shadow, doesn’t push the comic away or tell Sonic to ‘shut up.’ In fact, she seems quietly curious about both the comic and whatever Sonic is muttering about it.

Shadow watches on. He doesn’t know what to say, but thankfully, he doesn’t want to say anything. He watches the moment with a terrible mix of fondness and hurt (where is his son right now?). Before Shadow can spiral, Sonic turns to put the comic book away. Shadow takes the opportunity to cough into his fist. Astra and Sonic look toward him. Shadow nods his chin toward the entrance to a hallway on the opposite wall from the boxes (there’s another hallway beside the fireplace that leads to the front door, and the back door is on the very last wall of the living room).

Shadow leads the way for Sonic and Astra. The rooms are exactly the same as the first few they went though—furnished but impersonal. Even the master bedroom doesn’t have much, and that’s the room he lives in. The guest room is completely empty save for some scattered boxes on the hardwood floor. Sonic narrows his eyes at it. Shadow tenses, realizing that this is the last room. He opens his mouth, but Sonic beats him to it. “Do you get rid of it all?”

Astra tenses, sensing the weight behind those words. Sonic might not speak with any emotion in his voice, but this lack is enough to show that he feels very strongly. Shadow leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “I put it in the attic. I can show you if you want.”

“He’s not dead,” Sonic hisses, glaring at Shadow from the corner of his eye. He sounds genuinely angry. No, he doesn’t just sound it; he is angry. He’s beyond pissed at Shadow right now. Shadow’s gut-reaction is to get angry in return. He stops himself because he doesn’t actually feel that way. Sonic doesn’t even feel that way; he’s only upset. The stubborn fool refuses to process his genuine emotions, that’s all.

“I know. I just couldn’t—” Shadow cuts himself off. Astra looks between them both. Shadow exhales. He doesn’t think it’d be right to get into this now in front of her. She’s already scared enough as it is of him. He doubts there’s been much time since she’s left the laboratory, too, so everything must already be more confusing than she should be expected to handle.

Sonic notices Shadow’s gaze. He meets Astra’s eyes. Sonic’s lips rise into a half-smile. He starts walking back down the hallway. He doesn’t need to do anything for her to follow after him. “C’mon. It’s dinner time. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got to be starving. I’ll make us something since Shadow is terrible in the kitchen.”

“I am not terrible,” Shadow argues, marching after them. They quickly cut through the living room to the kitchen. Shadow takes his time, eventually stopping between one of the chairs and the coffee table. He glances over everything he’s left here. Shadow hasn’t spent time in this room, either. He’s never entertained guests, not even Rouge and Omega. The only time they came was when they were helping him with boxes. 

Shadow looks away from the dimly lit living room to the kitchen when light flares in his peripheral vision. Sonic has flipped on the light. Shadow didn’t even know the bulb worked. Astra stands in the middle of the kitchen. She seems a little lost as she follows after Sonic’s movements with her eyes. He’s busy grabbing tools and what ingredients he can find. “You know how I know you’re lying? There’s barely anything here! Oh, wait, I think—” Sonic opens the fridge. Its pale light covers him. He steps away from it with his prize in hand. Shadow refuses to meet Sonic’s eyes. “You have weenies! Oh, please tell me you have buns and chili.”

Shadow remains silent. Sonic finds what he’s looking for, though. The azure hedgehog laughs with his entire body as he holds the ingredients for chili dogs in his arms. He drops the can of chili. Astra catches it on his behalf. She studies it carefully, confused by its appearance. Sonic doesn’t notice as he grins cheekily at Shadow. “I always knew you loved chili dogs! Astra, you are going to love this!”

Shadow wonders if it’s more embarrassing to let Sonic believe he likes chili dogs or to admit that he only bought the damn stuff because he thought, for a split second, that it could somehow bring Sonic back to him. It was a moment of weakness, but at least it happened recently enough that Sonic isn’t going to give himself or Astra food poisoning.

“We’ll need to go to the store tomorrow. If I’m staying here, we’ll have to actually stock the kitchen. We should also get Astra some stuff, too. She kind of has nothing to her name. Unless the ruins of that lab count as belonging to her. How does that even work? I’m probably better off not knowing,” Sonic begins his rambling, his preferred pastime when he’s cooking. It’s as annoying as it is endearing to Shadow, and he’s struck by how much he just… missed this. There’s a new level to it, however, as Sonic ropes Astra into helping him. She’s good at carrying out orders, and while that’s certainly a concern, it’s also adorable in a bunch of small ways (how she looks to Sonic for guidance or praise, how she concentrates on something so simple and stupid with her entire being, how she’s more relaxed now than she has been the entire time while here).

Shadow just watches from the darkness of the living room, standing in the light borrowed from the kitchen’s bulbs. Sonic and Astra’s movements reflect in his eyes. Sonic’s voice—and Astra’s occasional response—echo in his ears. He does not intrude, but he soaks up the warmth that overflows from the simple domesticity. In his mind, he continues reiterating his to-do list. He adds going to the store, as Sonic said, with everything else that must be done.

Sonic and Astra don’t head toward the dining room when they’re done. They come into the living room. Astra holds two plates. Sonic holds one, allowing him to flip on the light. Shadow glances upward at yet another bulb he wasn’t certain worked. When he looks back down, Astra offers him one of the plates. She doesn’t say anything. Her arm trembles faintly at the strain. She looks right into his eyes, lacking that earlier fear. There isn’t any emotion (better than negativity, he supposes). Shadow takes the plate. Astra holds her own plate with both paws now. She looks to Sonic once more for guidance. He plops down on the couch, patting the space beside himself for her. Astra bounds over to him. She sits on the edge of the couch. Sonic leaves his plate on the coffee table, letting him teach Astra how to eat a chili dog with both paws. Because of him, they’re both soon covered in chili.

“Let me,” Shadow says. He sets his plate on the edge of the coffee table. He pushes back the pillows and blankets. One pillow falls to the ground as Shadow sits on the wooden surface. Sonic arches a brow at him. Astra blinks up at him. The chili is smeared all over her face, reaching places that it really shouldn’t. Shadow huffs through his nose but smiles faintly with his lips. He guides Astra’s paws to hold the chili dog without getting any of it on her. She follows his directions as smoothly as she did for Sonic. The azure hedgehog is watching them with a softened expression. Shadow ignores it (he tries to, anyway).

Once Astra is eating correctly, Sonic starts inhaling his own chili dogs. Shadow idly eats the one on his plate. He finds the flavor and texture to be fine, but the taste of nostalgia lingers in his mouth. It remains even when he finishes. His slow eating speed has allowed him to finish around the time Sonic and Astra have with their multiple chili dogs. 

Sonic helps Astra get onto her feet without getting chili on the couch. Shadow remains seated on the coffee table as he watches Sonic guide Astra to the bathroom attached to the master bedroom (as opposed to the guest bathroom in the hallway). He hears Sonic asking her about how the chili dog was. Shadow doesn’t hear the answer.

He goes to clean the kitchen, half-marveling at the mere fact that he needs to. Once he’s finished with wiping everything down and washing the dishes, he turns off all the lights. The house is bathed in darkness, but his eyes adjust. He notices a sliver of light coming from the hallway. When he approaches it, he figures out it’s coming from beneath the door to the master bedroom. Shadow pushes the ajar door open further. He immediately freezes, remaining motionless.

Sonic lies on the right side of the bed (his side, so to speak) on his stomach. He’s already halfway to drooling on the pillow. Astra sits beside him in the middle of the bed. She’s close to the headboard, but she doesn’t lean against it, instead favoring to keep her spine ramrod straight. She was openly staring at Sonic with curiosity and fascination before, but that emotion is shoved aside when she notices Shadow. She tilts her head toward him. The light from the lamp Sonic undoubtedly turned on splashes across half of her face. The other half is held in darkness, except for her eye. Like many of the Black Arms, the irises glow faintly. She can likely see in the dark.

Shadow and Astra stare at each other for a little while. Neither are speaking, yet Shadow feels like something is being communicated. Shadow just isn’t certain what yet. Either way, he’s compelled into motion. He walks over to the bed. He is about to say something to her when he notices a spot of red on his bed. He glances down at it, muttering an ‘unbelievable’ under his breath. His attempts to wake Sonic up fail—just pushing Sonic further into his sleep—so Shadow yanks off the little shit’s shoes himself. He doesn’t even try to make it gentle. He hopes Sonic wakes up in pain.

Noticing what he’s doing, Astra pulls her own shoes off. She crawls to the footboard. She looks over the side. When she realizes that Shadow has set Sonic’s shoes at the base of the bed, she moves her arm over the side to set her shoes beside his. Astra tilts her head back to look at Shadow, seeking approval for her actions. Shadow nods at her. Astra nods back, returning to her position beside Sonic.

Shadow moves around the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed on the left side. His legs are hanging over the side. He reaches his paw to the lamp. He doesn’t turn it off, though, just rests his paw. The list plays over in his mind. There’s so much he needs to do tomorrow alone, things that can’t be postponed longer.

Shadow’s thoughts are interrupted by pressure against the paw he left on his thigh. He looks down. Astra has grabbed his paw. She pulls it back. Shadow shifts to accommodate this action. He realizes that she’s holding both his and Sonic’s paws in her lap. She frowns down at them. Her brow furrows together. She shakes their paws slightly. Shadow arches a brow, unsure what’s going on. He tries looking into her eyes. Astra finally glances at him. “Isn’t something supposed to happen?”

Shadow blinks. “What’s supposed to happen?”

Astra wears a tiny frown. Shadow doesn’t think her frowns can go deeper than this one is. “I don’t know. I thought I was supposed to become Chaos now.”

The Ancient One who was sealed in the Master Emerald and nearly destroyed Central City? Shadow remembers Sonic telling him the story. Somehow, he doubts that’s what Astra is talking about right now, though.

“How about we get some rest? I’ll stay here to protect you and Sonic,” Shadow says, turning further toward Astra. She doesn’t fight him when he helps get her under the blanket and onto one of the pillows. She stares straight up at the ceiling.

“Do you want me to go to sleep?”

“Yes. We have a lot to do tomorrow. I–” Shadow doesn’t finish his thought. Astra isn’t listening anymore. Her eyes are shut. Her chest is moving slowly. Shadow can’t confirm that she’s asleep, but all signs point toward it despite what little time it took for her to get there. This has something to do with the laboratory. 

Shadow shuffles, pulling a phone from his quills. He dials a number. He speaks softly (though he knows that he won’t be able to wake Sonic and he doesn’t think he could disturb Astra, either). “I need an investigation launched on a recently destroyed building in the north… The one with the heightened chaos readings…”

Chapter Text

The fair weather from the previous day has not continued into the burgeoning morning of today. There is a faint chill in the breeze from how many clouds have built up over the sky. There are a few cracks of blue, but the sparse sunlight is not enough to warm the city streets; there is only enough to illuminate them for the pedestrians and drivers who’ve chosen Central City as their destination of choice on this cloudy day. 

Sonic is unbothered by the weather. While he is a well-known fan of sunshine, he enjoys the sky no matter what state it is in. He only gets prickly when the clouds start raining, but that’s only if he’s still outside without shelter when that happens. He doesn’t mind watching the rain from the other side of a window or in the shadow of a large tree. The taste of an approaching storm is actually one of his favorites, even though he knows that his brother isn’t a fan of lightning and thunder (although, Tails has gotten better about it, turning his childhood fear into a teenage wariness). As for the temperature itself, Sonic’s fur is thick enough that he doesn’t feel like a jacket is necessary. He’s been in colder environments than this one with the same amount of clothing on. The denizens of Holoska gave him a lot of trouble for it, of course, but he was fine with the snow falling over his body.

Shadow and Astra seem to be in the same boat as him. Neither of them have complained about the weather or temperature once. He hasn’t seen them shiver, either, or their teeth chattering. Then again, Sonic isn’t entirely sure what he believes about them. He knows from proximity that Shadow is a furnace, especially when he’s overflowing with chaos energy that he needs to release somehow. His creators made certain that temperature wasn’t going to be a problem for him. In the case of the weather, though, Shadow sporadically moves his paws through his quills, straightening them or fluffing them out. While he might not hate the weather, he certainly doesn’t like the wind and static electricity throwing his quills into disarray.

Astra  doesn’t show any indications of even being aware of the weather and temperature. She, too, could have been created or trained like Shadow, or she doesn’t have time to notice how cold she is since she’s too busy looking around at everything. It’s blatantly clear that she didn’t have many experiences before this one, and Central City is filled with sensory information that would knock someone out if it was unleashed all at once and unexpectedly.

Sonic decides not to question her. They’ll just get Astra a jacket (or reuse the one Sonic stole from his younger brother the other day) and let her decide if that’s something she wants to wear. Sonic isn’t going to force a wardrobe on her, especially since she doesn’t seem too familiar with wearing clothes herself (she isn’t foreign from the concept altogether, though. She’s likely only seen other individuals wearing it).

“Where are we going first?” Sonic asks, plopping down on one of the city’s benches. He stretches his legs in front of him, crossing his ankles over one another. He moves both of his arms back, balancing them on the back of the bench behind him. He tilts his head to look at Shadow. The ebony hedgehog remains standing, putting himself on one side of Sonic’s legs. Astra stops on the other side. She stares at Shadow for a long moment before mimicking his actions with crossed arms and a furrowed brow. As amusing as that is to see, Sonic can’t have his kid being more like Shadow than him. He nods his chin at the spot beside him. Astra uncrosses her arms. She pulls herself on the bench. She scoots all the way to the back, revealing that her legs are too short to reach the ground. She still, however, crosses her ankles, though she doesn’t tuck her arms behind her. She just leans against Sonic’s forearm. Before she turns to look at him, Shadow rolls his eyes at Sonic’s antics. The azure hedgehog snickers, pretending to be innocent when Astra looks away from him to stare at Shadow.

“We are waiting for someone,” Shadow informs Sonic and Astra.

The hero keeps a smile on his face even when confusion descends across his features. “Why are we waiting for someone? We just need to get clothes and groceries. I’m sure the same hedgehogs who’ve broken the sound barrier can manage that.”

“You have never purchased clothes for yourself. I buy my clothes online. Astra doesn’t know anything about clothes, her size, or her style,” Shadow notes, pointing at each of them when he says that individual’s name. Sonic follows his pointing. Astra blinks blankly when she’s referenced. She shifts on the bench, looking at her borrowed boots and Sonic’s bright red shoes. Sonic wonders what she sees—what she thinks about all of this. Does she even want clothes? She hasn’t argued with them at all about the matter. She doesn’t display any characteristics of being for or against this. She doesn’t seem to have many opinions, though. That’s something they’ll have to develop.

Or, well, Shadow will have to do that. At least until Sonic gets back—which he most definitely will with their firstborn in tow. When the four of them are together, Sonic will absolutely be there to help Astra self-actualize in any way he can. Usually, he just needs to believe in people for that to happen, but he is willing to put in a little more work in this particular case.

“Who did you even invite to help us?” Sonic asks, pulling himself away from those thoughts. It doesn’t mean he is left floundering, though. There are a lot of thoughts that he moves around in his mind. The current ones involve who Shadow could have possibly called for help in a matter such as this one. Shadow doesn’t know many people, and there’s even fewer that he is close enough with to invite them to go shopping with him for the majority of the day. Depending on how protective he is of Astra, that list might shrink even further. But there are still people on that list, and Sonic isn’t keen on interacting with any of them. He doesn’t need the judgement or questions about where he’s been for the past few months, or if they grill him over the last argument he and Shadow had (the one they still haven’t technically reconciled).

Shadow does not answer verbally, but his lips ever-so-slightly lift into a smirk. Sonic’s stomach drops. His arms slide off the back of the bench. He is about to learn forward to demand who Shadow invited when he hears a very familiar noise. A few seconds later, a pair of arms sling around his neck, completely pulling him back into a hug. He doesn’t need to see the pink in his peripheral vision to glare at Shadow. The hybrid has the audacity to make his smirk more prominent on his face, knowing damn well why Sonic wouldn’t want to be anywhere near his closest friends at the moment (it was hard enough going to Tails the other day to confirm that Astra was both his and Shadow’s).

“Sonic!” Amy’s voice is light and airy, akin to a flute playing a wondrous melody. Sonic’s heart twists at the  mere sound of it. When she sounds like this and hugs him close enough that he can feel her warmth, he almost feels bad for abandoning her in the same moment he abandoned everyone else—the moment he abandoned the world itself, really.

Amy pulls away from him. She braces her paw on the back of the bench. Instead of walking around it, she leaps over it. She lands on the thin wooden planks beside Sonic. She pulls one thigh and knee into the seat while turning to face him. She’s far closer than he lets most people get to him. As usual, she smells faintly of flowers. It isn’t just roses, but that’s always the underlying scent in whatever perfume she’s sporting on this occasion. She doesn’t look any different from the last time he saw her—quills pulled back into a short ponytail, peridot green eyes bright and glittering, and one of the widest smiles in the entire world. Gentle and kind in all the ways Sonic has never deserved and especially doesn’t deserve now of all times.

“It’s good to see you,” Amy tells him. There’s no sarcasm in her tone. There’s no hurt. It is a simple, genuine statement that Amy means with her entire being. She reaches a paw to grab onto his chin. She tilts his head in several directions. A tick of concern appears in her eyes, translating well into the barest furrow in her brows. “You need to eat more.”

“No one’s ever told me that before,” Sonic chuckles. He kind of means it. Most people don’t talk about his eating habits, and those who do usually tell him that he eats a lot (in both nice and rude ways). It’s only people like Amy and Vanilla (and Shadow on occasion) who tell Sonic that he doesn’t eat enough because they know what it looks like when he’s eaten enough to sustain his adventuring lifestyle.

“You should be grateful I got him to take a shower this morning,” Shadow mutters when he notices Amy getting closer to Sonic. She’s trying to decipher every detail from his appearance as if that would tell her exactly what he’s been doing these past few months. 

“I knew you smelled different,” Amy adds, leaning away.

“It’s creepy that you know that,” Sonic tells her. He’s being a hypocrite since he also knows what she usually smells like. It might still be creepy, but they’re best friends. They got really close after Amy’s individual adventure when she decided to refocus her love for him into a love for the whole world (she even dabbled in matchmaking for a little while, which was a unique career choice among their friend group). More than that, Sonic and Amy have been best friends through crises and disasters. Sonic memorized what she smells like normally because he realizes he knew the scent of her blood but not her natural scent. He hopes Amy doesn’t have an as morbid reason for knowing what he smells like as he does, even if it’s only a carry-over from her more… stalkerish days.

Amy suddenly gasps. Sonic startles, looking around for danger. He doesn’t necessarily find any, but Amy does look at Astra like she’s going to squeeze the hoglet to death in a hug. Sonic will save Astra from that (he had to save Tails and Cream—and himself, on occasion, but never Knuckles because he can save himself as far as Sonic is concerned—from Amy’s hugs in the past), so he lets Amy jump over his legs to squat right in front of Astra. To her credit, the hoglet doesn’t have a visceral reaction to Amy. She doesn’t seem wary or fearful. She’s just as curious about Amy as she was about Central City, but that also means she’s not personally interested in Amy. Sonic hopes that will change because he doesn’t want his kid having problems with his friend group (even if he himself is having a lot of problems with them at the moment).

“Are you Astra?” Amy asks, her voice only slightly softer than usual. There’s even an edge of reverence. Sonic would hit the back of her head to get her to knock it off if he wasn’t certain she would smack him with her Piko Piko hammer or give a thousand cuts with her cards. Astra isn’t bothered by Amy’s attitude, though, as she nods in confirmation. Amy’s smile widens at the communication. She claps her hands together, leaning her cheek against the back of one hand as she tilts her head and closes her eyes. “Shadow has told me all about you!”

“What has he told you?” Sonic asks skeptically, eyeing the ebony hedgehog rather than Amy herself. Shadow stares right back at him, unafraid of eye contact and everything Sonic is implying. Astra is not their firstborn. She isn’t a replacement, either. Sonic isn’t going to treat her like one. He isn’t certain if Shadow is going to do that, though. Sonic doesn’t even believe that Shadow thinks their son is alive despite Shadow plainly saying that he does when they were talking about where the baby stuff went.

Amy sets her paw on Sonic’s knee. She squeezes with just enough pressure to make him look at her. She doesn’t stop smiling, but there’s a definitive somberness wrapped up in what it means. “He told me the truth.”

Sonic exhales out his nose, letting his eyes slide away from both her and Shadow. He unintentionally ends up meeting Astra’s eyes. They aren’t like his own. They aren’t black like when he was a child, nor are they green like they currently are. Astra’s eyes are more like Shadow’s eyes—more like the Black Arms. It is a fleeting thought, but Sonic wonders what color his son’s eyes are. He never got to see them. He doesn’t even know if those stones changed them.

Astra looks away first, distracted by Amy telling her what clothes they’re trying to get today. Sonic half-heartedly listens. He reminds himself that he needs to care about this, but he just doesn’t have the spirit for it. A part of him feels like simply letting Amy and Shadow take care of this. He needs to be leaving soon, anyway, and it might be easier to slip away while Astra is distracted. If she spends the entire day with Shadow, she’ll grow acquainted with him. They’ll develop a bond, and Sonic won’t have to feel compelled to stay. He can finish his mission. He’ll come back, and he’ll have their son, and it will be—

Sonic’s thoughts come to a screeching thought when he feels pain in his wrist. A noise is already leaving his lips as he lifts his gaze from where he had been aimlessly staring. Amy and Astra are no longer with him. Shadow is, however. He’s the one squeezing Sonic’s wrist like he wants to break it. He braces his other paw against the back of the bench, putting his forearm close to Sonic’s neck. Their faces are extremely close. Sonic can hardly see beyond Shadow’s eyes, and he feels Shadow’s heated breath against the bottom of his face as the hybrid hisses, “Stop doing that.”

His tone, his demeanor, his expression, and even the fact that he’s putting himself above Sonic and squeezing Sonic’s wrist mean that Shadow is angry. Anyone could make that assumption, and that would, for the record, be correct. Shadow is angry right now. But Sonic knows Shadow. He has known him for a long time; he’s understood him. That makes all the difference, letting Sonic know that Shadow is, to some degree, afraid right now. It’s not the scream-in-terror, flashing kind of fear. It isn’t the childhood-trauma-turned-phobia kind of fear, either. It is one rooted in emotions, something deep and true and entirely too personal. It is intertwined with the anger, so entangled that Sonic can’t tell if the fear is causing the anger or if it’s the other way around.

It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t get what the origin for either of these emotions is. He tears his wrist from Shadow’s paw and shoves the hybrid away from him. Sonic rises onto his feet, glancing over his shoulder. Shadow might have stepped away for a moment, but he doesn’t stray far from Sonic’s personal space with the same damn expression. Sonic narrows his eyes, trying in vain to make his confusion look like anger. “What are you talking about? Does my spacing out bother you that much?”

Sonic can almost see the ‘you know that’s not what I’m talking about’ resting on Shadow’s tongue (even though Sonic genuinely doesn’t know). Shadow doesn’t need to say it, so he doesn’t. He just clenches his jaw. He marches past Sonic. As they’re passing, he grabs Sonic’s paw. It isn’t the first time they’ve held paws like this. Obviously not, considering the nature of their relationship. Still, this easy gesture is something Sonic was certain he lost. His disbelief at having it again—his need to savor what he thinks he’ll lose again—compels him to let Shadow have this…

…to let himself have this.

Although her phone displays the time as a little after noon, the sky has not cleared. The clouds are still thickly veiling the brilliant blue. Fortunately, the number of cracks is gradually increasing, both in amount and size. This allows for a greater distribution of sunlight to warm the earth below, and between all the reflective glass, metal, and concrete, Central City’s ambient temperature is beginning to rise. The wind, however, is still a problem, which is the reason why Amy keeps her thin jacket on. It is only partially the reason why she links arms with Sonic, forcing them to walk closer together so that they might share body heat.

Sonic suddenly sighs. It reminds her of all the times in the past when she would try to physically connect them, whether it be holding paws, hugging, or, like in this case, linking arms. Sonic did not appreciate her affectionate touches in those days; a cocktail of conflicting emotions mixed together by his touch aversion and unwillingness to accept or unilaterally reject her feelings (his belief in freedom has always been something she admired, though it was taken down a few notches by her realization that ‘letting people feel any emotion they want’ is frequently synonymous with ‘leading them on,’ to an extent, anyway). Amy was too blinded to understand it at the time, but numerous experiences in the greater world lead her to being a person who did more than encourage others, she learned to understand them, even someone as chaotic as the hedgehog beside her.

There are, however, subtle differences in the way Sonic sighs this time. He doesn’t push her away nor does he look at her. When he speaks, he does so in the area in front of him as if he’s talking to their fellow pedestrians on the sidewalk around them. “Out with it, Ames.”

“Out with what?” Amy asks. For a moment, her surprise keeps her from realizing what he means. Once the moment passes, however, she realizes that he’s caught on to her true intentions.

“Come on,” Sonic says with a tone that also says ‘the charade is up.’ He shakes the arm that Amy is holding. This shakes her and causes the bags hanging off his wrists to hit against each other. Luckily, it’s only clothes and plastic, so the noise isn’t terrible (what little of it can be heard over babel and traffic) and nothing breaks. “You only grab onto me like this when you want to talk about something important.”

“You’ll run away otherwise,” Amy defends herself. Sonic doesn’t answer, informing Amy that she’s right even though she already knew that she was. Still, she permits a beat of silence between them to give Sonic a moment to process his thoughts and prepare anything he might want to say to her. 

In the meantime, Amy considers what she should say, too. Amy Rose is many things, but she is not stupid. She understands that this situation is very complicated. There are too many emotions involved among too many parties for no one to get hurt. That fact pains her, but once she weighs the scales, she realizes this is a necessary evil. Any pain inflicted now is going to hurt badly, yet it will be so much better than leaving this matter alone. It’s already an aching wound. The only way to heal it is to tear it open just a little more, only so she can clean out the infection. Or something like that. She doesn’t like this metaphor; she doesn’t like hurting people, especially not one of her closest friends. But it needs to be done by someone, and Amy trusts herself to have a gentle approach that hopefully won’t spook him.

That’s why she’s doing all of this now. She has their arms linked together to—as she put earlier—keep Sonic more running. She chose to start this conversation after Shadow took Astra to get the hoglet’s inhibitor rings from Tails’ workshop. That is another topic of discussion for the two friends. Both the new child and the pseudo-argument Shadow and Sonic had before they split ways. Amy has seen them argue before, of course, but this was different. Shadow was, at first, hesitant to leave Sonic to go grocery shopping alone, and he only managed to walk away once Amy promised that she would stay with Sonic—and she didn’t fail to notice Sonic’s disappointment at that. She could chalk it up to Sonic not wanting a ‘babysitter,’ but she gets a feeling that this is about something more; it’s about whatever reason Shadow doesn’t want Sonic alone for.

Then again, Amy is starting to think she knows what that reason is, which might be another reason why she’s clinging to Sonic.

“You disappeared, Sonic,” Amy says once she’s deemed the silence to have gone on for long enough. This is the easiest place to start. It is a factual statement. It is one that Sonic cannot easily refute. It is connected to every other problem while simultaneously being the lightest one of them all. Amy thinks they can easily work through this one, and that will lead them to where all the difficulty resides.

“I disappear all the time.” Sonic has the audacity to argue with her. He already sounds defensive! Amy takes a deep breath. She expected this (she should have, anyway). Amy needs to be the grounded one. Being anything other than is only going to hurt Sonic more than necessary, and that is something Amy refuses to do at any cost.

Amy moves her other arm. The bags she was carrying slide down her arm against her inner elbow. She sets her paw on Sonic’s forearm. With this comforting gesture, she softens her voice but does not allow it to waver. “Never for this long. Never all by yourself. Never without telling someone first. You were gone for months, Sonic. No one knew where you were, not even Tails or Shadow. You didn’t contact anyone, and you didn’t let anyone contact you. It scared us, you know.”

Sonic is so close to responding. There’s hundreds of words in his head, and at least a thousand already loaded onto his tongue to be thoughtlessly spewed. Sonic, however, catches himself before he admits anything. His facial features tighten together, not quite getting close to any recognizable emotion. His eyes, too, are depthless and enigmatic. This is something Amy remembers. At a glance, Sonic wouldn’t be considered mysterious, but he’s in such control over his expressions that no one knows what he’s feeling at any given moment. At least, this is the case when it comes to negative emotions. There was a time when Amy foolishly thought he was incapable of them, but she’s since learned that Sonic, like everyone else, possesses a heart capable of great sorrow and rage and emptiness.

All Amy is able to read from his face is that he’s going through an intense moment within the prison of his own mind. He won’t let her see what he’s struggling with; she’s barely able to tell that he is struggling at all. Eventually, however, Sonic opens his mouth to tell her something that he’s spent this entire time wrestling with. That contemplation remains in his voice, twisting into a braid with his conviction and melancholy. “He isn’t dead.”

Amy nearly freezes in place. She stumbles over her step in an attempt to keep moving. Sonic doesn’t stop. He sets his jaw, staring straight ahead with slightly narrowed eyes and nothing else on his face. Amy, on the other hand, feels tears burn in her eyes from three simple words. She knows exactly who Sonic is talking about; they all know. And Amy, specifically, knows from Sonic’s tone alone that he’s been repeating this to himself, likely ever since he left without telling anyone where he was going (if, in fact, he himself even knew where he was going when he first bolted).

“I believe you,” Amy promises, squeezes Sonic’s arm tighter. In the back of her mind, she realizes that they probably look like a couple. She nearly snorts at the thought, trying to find amusement as she’s discussing Sonic’s son with him—the child who was kidnapped by supernatural stones mere moments after he was born (or hatched or whatever). Everyone who knows—everyone who is close with either or both Shadow and Sonic—felt the strangest kind of grief upon learning the news. Amy does believe Sonic about the hoglet still being alive, but still, it’s almost too easy to accept that he’s never coming back, and isn’t that eerily similar to a permanent death?

Amy shakes her head, dismissing that thought. She tries meeting Sonic’s eyes, reforming her earlier statement for both of their sake’s. “We all believe you. We know that he’s still alive.”

“He’s out there somewhere,” Sonic continues. Amy can’t tell if he hears her or not; she doesn’t know if he’s comprehending her words. He might just be saying all this aloud because he’s been bottling it up for too long. Amy wouldn’t put it past him.  “If no one else is going to look for him, then I have to.”

“That’s not true.” Amy told herself to remain grounded, but she simply can’t keep the emotions from melting directly into her voice. “We’ve all been looking in every way that we can. I’ve been looking, and I can promise you that Shadow has been, too. No one has given up on him.”

“Then, why am I the one getting the speeches?” Sonic is odd with his expressions, so Amy can’t truthfully call it a scowl, but Chaos if it isn’t a close thing on Sonic’s face.

“You’re the only one getting speeches because you’re not taking care of yourself. I could tell within a few minutes of being with you that you aren’t eating or sleeping as much as you need to. I could tell when we were walking around the mall that you keep drifting away from your own body. I can tell when you talk to Shadow that you aren’t letting yourself feel everything in your heart. You aren’t being fair to yourself, Sonic, and that’s why we’re talking to you like this,” Amy explains to him. 

They stop walking. They’re finally at her car (one of the excuses that convinced Sonic to let her accompany him is that she had a car that they could put the shopping and grocery bags in instead of trying to carry them all back to Shadow’s house). Amy doesn’t want to, but she does untangle their arms to open the trunk. She’s almost surprised to find Sonic still standing there when she turns to grab his bags. Her surprise eases away at the tension in his body. As much as he doesn’t want to be here, he wants to get this conversation over with. Or, if Amy’s lucky, he genuinely wants to get some help for himself. It’d be a miracle if it was only that, but she would believe it being a small part that Sonic’s trying to ignore in all likelihood.

Amy shuts the trunk. She glances around the small parking lot between two small businesses. There are still people walking on the sidewalk, but they are currently alone in a relatively secluded place. The emptiness of the surrounding air might be the reason Sonic lets his shoulders fold together, showing off more emotion than his face ever will. “He’s out there. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what’s happening to him. I just know that he’s out there. I have to save him before it’s too late.”

He might already be dead. He was a hoglet when he was taken. The stones could have killed him, or they could have randomly teleported him to a place where he wasn’t able to survive. The others, to an extent, have been searching so much because they know having the body will bring Sonic and Shadow closure. As far as Amy is aware, they’ve all contended with this fact and come to accept that they are equally likely to find a dead little boy as they are a living one.

Yet Sonic, with every fiber of his being, believes that his son is alive. He is so certain that he doesn’t care what happens to himself. Amy has realized over the years that Sonic is as much a creature of belief as he is of freedom. He believes in people’s potential, yes, but it extends so much further than that. And Amy has never faulted him for it. She would never, either, especially not in a situation like this. In fact, she admires him even more. She feels inspired to double her efforts in trying to find this missing boy. Because at the end of it all, Amy still has the smallest of doubts. Next to Sonic, she feels ashamed for having them, but at this distance, she also realizes that if her doubts aren’t for nought, Sonic is going to be destroyed in such a way that even Amy isn’t sure he’ll survive. 

And that terrifies her.

Amy marches forward. She moves her arms around Sonic’s neck. She pulls him tight against her, squeezing him with all the strength in her body. Sonic makes a noise that could be a laugh or a sob or some unique third option. It doesn’t matter when his arms move around her waist, hugging her back. He even sinks his face into her shoulder, and that’s how Amy knows she was right to be scared.

“I know that I can’t stop you from searching. I wouldn’t want to. I just hope that you won’t do this alone anymore. We’re all willing to help you if you let us. You always said that we can do anything as long as we work together,” Amy whispers. After a moment without a response, she continues. “If nothing less, please let Shadow help you. Help each other. He lost a son, too. And then he lost you.”

Sonic inhales deeply. Amy wonders if Sonic has allowed himself to think about it that way. Likely not, considering how boneless he goes against her. Yet, even in the midst of all his sorrow, he finally finds a voice to respond with. “I will. Thank you for this—for everything.”

Amy pulls away from Sonic. She moves her paws up to cup both of his cheeks. His arms drop to the sides as he makes eye contact with her. She smiles, hoping it distracts him from how close she is to crying. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. This is the least I’d do for you.”

Every once in a while, a song lyric or instrumental riff will leave the radio’s speakers. For the most part, however, dry static is the only noise coming from the compact, metal box. Cream bites the inside of her cheek. She has fiddled endlessly with the knobs on the ground. She has even resorted to hitting the side of the pastel-colored retro device with her palm. At this point, she’s starting to entertain the thought of using the tools in the workshop around her. Whether she breaks open the radio to fix what the internal problem is or continues hitting the radio with one of the tools is a matter she hasn’t decided on yet.

“Toss it over here.” Cream snaps her gaze away from the wall of hanging tools to the inventor in front of them. Tails sits in his spinning chair. One foot is braced on the ground to keep his chair from hitting the edge of the desk or any of the inventions surrounding it. At the moment, he’s wearing an apron. It reminds Cream of the one her mother wears, but this one is covered in ashes and oil rather than flour and chocolate. 

As per instructed, Cream tosses the radio from her side of the room to Tails’ side. The kit catches the radio in both paws. His entire body bobs downward with it, but the machine doesn’t ever touch the ground. Tails spins around in his chair to face his desk. He only grabs a few small tools, however, before he’s turning to the side. This allows Cream to both look at what’s happening to the radio and the side of his face. His expression immediately twists with determination in a way Cream has seen a million times before. This isn’t her first time hanging out with him in one of his workshops, after all, and even then, Tails constantly looks like he’s solving problems when they’re spending their time together elsewhere.

The radio has gone silent as Tails rearranges its internal organs. The rest of the workshop is filled with noise, though. There’s a beeping security system that is constantly analyzing everything to make sure nothing is overheating, malfunctioning, combining, or any number of other potential disasters. There’s a tiny Badnik Tails repurposed to clean his workshop chugging along somewhere on the other side of a shelving unit filled with former inventions that don’t currently have a purpose. The table Cream is sitting on creaks slightly as she adjusts herself on it, though she knows from a lot of testing that this table can withstand weights much greater than her own. Still, the noise is irritating in the way it makes her momentarily panic, worried it’s about to collapse beneath her.

After a little while, Cream asks, “What’s wrong with it?”

“One of the wires was—”

Tails finishes his statement, but Cream doesn’t hear it as she jolts backward. In the span of her blinking her eyes, something flashes into her field of vision and remains there. She realizes as she’s forcing her breathing to even out that it isn’t a something; it is two someones. Cream recognizes Shadow. She considers him to be one of her friends, and she knows that he has a certain fondness for her, too. Plus, there’s not many people in the world who can teleport, even if Shadow does need a chaos emerald—like the one he’s holding in his paw now—to do it.

Cream is about to tell Shadow who rude it is to suddenly teleport when it truly hits her that Shadow isn’t alone. He isn’t with anyone Cream knows, either. The paw that isn’t holding the Chaos Emerald is holding onto the paw of a… child, actually, who can’t be more than seven. The child is a hedgehog with blue-tipped quills and black fur. She looks at Cream with golden eyes with blood-red fractures as thin as veins interspersed through the irises. She wears a silver-gray jacket and boots that Cream recognizes as being Tails’ back from when they were children.

“Is this…” Cream starts. She trails off when Tails violently shakes his head on Shadow and the child’s other side. Cream doesn’t finish her question, but she does push herself off the desk to the ground below. She approaches the hoglet. When Cream is close enough, she squats down in front of them. Cream stares right into the child’s eyes. The child, in turn, stares back at Cream, nothing explicit in her facial features save for a hint of curiosity and subtle awareness. “Hello. My name is Cream. What is your name?”

The child looks away from Cream and to Shadow. The older hedgehog is currently discussing something with Tails. The fox has put the radio away to bring out the project he was working on when Cream showed up at his doorstep to spend time together (an impromptu trip she only made because Cheese went with Vanilla and Chocola on an errand, and Gemerl was in the midst of training). Cream didn’t ask what the project was. Tails didn’t offer up any information. She was content to leave it that way, but she’s definitely going to get answers from him after this.

The child turns back to Cream. She’s silent for so long that Cream decides to ask the question again in sign language. The child, however, doesn’t seem to understand that. Either she isn’t deaf, she didn’t learn Mobian sign language, or she wasn’t taught any form of it. As Cream weighs the likelihood of each option, the child finally points to herself. “Astra.”

“Astra!” Cream exclaims, clapping her hands together. Her gloves muffle the sound, making it soft enough that the child doesn’t startle. “That’s a lovely name. I really like it.”

It isn’t a name she’s ever heard of before. Mobians usually don’t go with traditional names, after all, instead opting for adjectives or nouns. Still, it isn’t unheard of—take Amy Rose for example—and Cream would never judge someone for their name. She genuinely does think ‘Astra’ is a lovely name, though.

Astra seems to consider Cream’s words, but she doesn’t respond to them. It doesn’t really seem like Astra’s shy, so Cream assumes she’s simply a child of few words. Cream smiles at her. “I can give you a tour of the workshop, if you’d like. This is Tails’—ah, the fox over there’s—” Cream makes sure to point him out. “—workshop. As his best friend, I know where all the fun toys are.”

“Wait,” Shadow says. Cream and Astra turn toward him. Tails stands beside Shadow now. The ebony hedgehog is holding two bracelets in both of his paws. “We need to put this on first.”

Shadow kneels on one knee. He raises his open palm to Astra. It doesn’t take her long to put her wrist into his paw. Shadow takes the opportunity to snap one of the bracelets closed around her wrist. Cream scrutinizes the appearance. It is shaped like a ring, as golden as Astra’s eyes or—and this comparison is more apt—Shadow’s own inhibitor rings. It makes sense why there are two of them, then. The difference, however, is that there is a gray line that follows the outside of the ring. As soon as both rings are place, however, the ring fills with a dark blue-purple color. Shadow hovers his paw around the ring while staring intently into Astra’s face. The child is instead staring at the rings with a touch more of something in her gaze.

Few words and fewer expressions, Cream is realizing. 

“How do they feel? Are they…” Shadow questions in a whisper. Tails stares down at the Miles Electric. Cream rises to her feet. She walks around Shadow to Tails. She sets her chin on his shoulder to look down at the screen with him. As expected, the Miles Electric is monitoring the chaos energy being absorbed by what Cream can only assume are inhibitor rings.

Astra nods at Shadow. She drops her arms to her sides. She and Shadow continue staring at each other. Astra breaks the silence first. “Dr. Lyra made me inhibitor rings. The scions said they were only for emergencies.”

Cream and Tails share a look. Shadow keeps his expression as neutral as Astra’s face is. He does, however, stand up. He faces Cream and Tails. They quickly clear their demeanors as if they were doing something they weren’t supposed to. “Thanks for this.”

“It was nothing, really. I’m honestly planning on making so much for my niece,” Tails says with a smile, glancing between Shadow and Astra. When he looks back at the Miles Electric, Cream mouths the last word he said. His expression screams ‘in a minute’ at her. That promise keeps her silent.

If Shadow saw their interaction, he doesn’t comment on it when he catches Cream’s eye. “We’ll have to take a raincheck on that tour.”

“Of course! And hey, it doesn’t have to be a tour of the workshop. We can go to a park or a cafe. I’m always up to babysit,” Cream offers. In between going on adventures and spending time with her friends (which is often done at the same time all things considered), Cream loves babysitting. For one, she’s good with kids, and for another, she likes helping the child’s guardian(s) get some time to themselves.

“We’ll see,” Shadow notes, encouraging neither hope nor disappointment in Cream. He offers his paw to Astra. She takes it without hesitation. With his other paw, Shadow pulls the Chaos Emerald from his quills. With a single utterance of ‘Chaos Control!’, he and Astra are gone as suddenly as they came.

The minute they are, Cream steps around Tails to stare directly into his eyes. He laughs sheepishly. Cream doesn’t need to say anything for Tails to start explaining. “So, the day before yesterday, Sonic suddenly came back with Astra in tow…”