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undonerhapsodize · 2 years

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Domestic Burdens

Sonic the Hedgehog Movie!Knuckles the Echidna x g/n!reader TW: cursing, implies violence, injury, blood, bruised limbs, much angst, comfort and fluff, happy ending, SPOILERS FOR THE SONIC MOVIES Word Count: 10.4K

Summary: You never thought you would find yourself living in the same house as a walking, talking echidna. Yet, as you adjust to this new life, secrets begin to unravel, for better, or for worse.

Side note: I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction because I am mentally ill, I am not mentally ill because I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction.

I cannot believe this is actually one of my better works of fiction.

Living with Knuckles was an… interesting experience to say the least. “Jarring” is the word you would probably use to describe it, along with “pleasant”.

Never in your life had you ever encountered something like him. And with Knuckles being a echidna and all, that fact was pretty unsurprising.

When you first met the guy, it took a lot of self control and convincing from Tom to not go and bash your head against the nearest hard surface. The hedgehog was one thing, he was a one-off. Tails was another, he was kind, kinda cute, and helpful so he got a pass. But another one? And he's big and scary? AND he can beat the shit outta you? Needless to say, you went home and took an ibuprofen.

Jokes aside, he was off-putting at the beginning. To you, at least. While Sonic felt comfortable in forgiving the harm the warrior had caused almost instantaneously, you weren’t so easy-going. Not that you had held any kind of long lasting hatred for what Knuckles had done, but rather it was simply a matter of time and understanding. And understand you did, with the help of Sonic, Tails, and even the echidna himself. It turned out that hearing it straight from the horse's mouth was an effective way of realizing the complexity of the situation Eggman had put the lot of them in, especially Knuckles.

And with that, and the promise of friendship between the hedgehog and the echidna, suspicions of Knuckles’ character disappeared just as fast as they arrived. You didn’t plan on holding his mistakes above his head (like it would do anything remotely close to helping relations heal), for his own past transgressions are just as permanent to him as they are to Sonic and Tails, and everyone else for that matter. Knuckles was a kind being, and you knew that now. Losing his way in his endeavor to protect the Master Emerald doesn’t change that.

Your friendship with him had started out of circumstance. After the fiasco with Eggman, the gang needed to find a place to safely keep the weapon. Tom and Maddie’s place was quickly rooted out as a station. Their home was too close to the city to house it properly. There would be too many strangers getting within reach of it every single day. An accident was bound to happen with that lack of security. There was also the issue with Eggman himself, if he were to ever return. The doctor knew of Tom, but didn’t technically know you. Yes, you were indeed present for much of the chaos, but you all had a feeling Eggman didn’t pay much attention to a random stranger whilst piloting a giant robot.

Lucky enough, you had your own home outside of city limits. It was much like a farmhouse, except for the farm. Wide open space, way out in the country, and no neighbors within sight. It was almost too perfect. Feeling generous and knowing there were limited options, you offered up your humble abode for Knuckles and his emerald to stay. He thought about your proposal for a while before ultimately accepting, saying something along the lines of “I accept your offer, comrade. Let us shake on this alliance.”

You didn’t understand why Sonic had zipped up to you two, frantically trying to stop him from grasping your hand. Knuckles’ handshake was fine? Like yeah his hand (paw? foot??) is big, but it's not like it would crush yours or anything.

And with that, Knuckles became your new housemate, and you became the substitute Guardian of the Master Emerald.

At first, it was a bit… awkward. It wasn’t hard to tell that the warrior felt out of place, to at least some degree. He spent most of the time in his own designated area of the basement, quietly keeping to himself and no doubt watching the Emerald. He came out to get food, or use the bathroom, or perhaps borrow a book from the shelf in the living room. He did talk some, but not enough to you would like. Sometimes you would act more extroverted than you really were, going out of your way to ask the echidna some questions about Angel Island and his preferences on certain things. He always gave short, curt answers that went straight to the point. If you didn’t know better, you could think he’d be pissed at you for asking anything at all. If you had to pick a favorite, once you asked him what his favorite fruit was, only to get a bizarrely serious response. As Knuckles padded back into the basement, he stopped briefly, contemplating his answer for a second or two before glancing back at you.

“I enjoy grapes.”

He walked away right after.

Not letting Knuckles’ lack of social skills inhibit your progress, you still pursued. And steadily, you gained progress. First came simple things, like what the echidna liked to eat, or what he would do to pass time while watching the Master Emerald. Then, conversations started to happen, usually about what Sonic, Tom and the gang were up to. Sometimes you spoke about how work had gone for you, though in the beginning you usually held back on talking too much about that, since Knuckles never seemed to be listening. Later on, you were given a pleasant surprise.

One time, as you stood at the kitchen’s stovetop cooking up something for you and Knuckles, who sat quietly on a barstool at the kitchen island. You had started to feel as if you were rambling on about this one incident that happened with your coworkers. With no response from the red mammal, you assumed your story was starting to become a bother. So you stopped about halfway through it, instead deciding to focus on the pan in front of you. He’s a battle-hardened warrior, why would he ever want to listen to some silly story about spilled coffee? Going back to the food, you were content to quiet down, despite that annoying feeling in your chest.

“Why did you stop?”

The question surprised you. It was abrupt, coming from behind. Turning, you look toward the echidna, who now had his eyes on you. The softer, smaller quills on his brow were furrowed in genuine confusion. Fumbling for your words a bit, you reply back just as confused. “S-sorry, I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I was.” Knuckles countered, tone lowered in his earnesty. He titled his head back down to the kitchen counter from once it came, folding his arms across the hard surface comfortably. “Continue. I was enjoying your tale.”

At that, you grin, going back to the stove to finish cooking you and the echidna’s dinner whilst you recount the events from this morning at the office.

Knuckles soon became a key person in your life. He was not one for words, but you soon learned not many were needed with him. Most often then not, he understood the silence was a natural part of company. A thing others could learn from him, including yourself. He even gave advice on the simple things that troubled you. His straightforward way of communicating never failed to speak the obvious when truths were hard to say out loud. Though your friendship with him had just started, you trusted him. And just maybe, he trusted you. He was always there, figuratively AND literally.

Though you planned on changing that last part.

It wasn’t often where you would descend to the basement into Knuckles’ domain. You never wanted to intrude upon his space, his privacy and security were important to you. Though once in a while, you would have to enter to ask a question or two.

He didn’t have a door, only a long set of stairs leading to the bottom floor. He could definitely hear you coming as you stepped down, down. The stairs weren’t exactly the quietest thing. As you peaked around the corner, you knocked firmly on the wood of the wall, just in case he was preoccupied and hadn’t heard you. You greet him all the same, knowing to announce yourself when he is on guard duty. “Hey Knux?”

There you saw the echidna, laying on an older model of a coach you had given him, head propped up on a cushion while reading a book. The master emerald laid on the other end of said coach. He moved the novel away from his snout so it wasn’t obscuring his vision of you, responding to the nickname you had given him like it was own with a simple “What is it?”

Given the greenlight, you asked your question “Where'd you put all the total paper?”

He seemed confused. It was an emotion that occurred to him often when dealing with things like this. He thought for a split second before asking his own question back. “From… when I helped you in storing the supplies?”

You nodded, assuring him he was right. “Yeah when we put the groceries away a few days ago.”

Knuckles looked deep in thought as he tried recalling the event, eyes in a blank stare seeing nothing at all as he dug up the answer. It would be fitting for a buffering effect to appear above his head at this moment.

He looked over, slowly turning his head as he drawled out his sentence. “I think… I recall… placing the package inside… the garment washing station?” It came out more as a question than anything else, holding little confidence.

You blinked, still perplexed. You spoke to yourself quietly, not directly talking to Knuckles anymore. “The laundry room? Huh.” You paused, scratching the back of your head. “I already checked it. Guess I’ll look again.”

“Have I put it in the wrong location?” Though it was just a few words, you could detect a small amount of apprehension in his voice.

You wave him off casually, wanting to ease any guilty feelings that may be developing. “Nono you’re fine. That’s where I told you to put them. I’ll just have to take another look.”

He stared at your figure for a minute before nodding, picking up his book once more and getting comfortable. “Well, if that is all, then I shall return to reading.”

You chuckled quietly at the formality. Turning to go back up the stairs, you caught a glimpse of the wall of the basement. It was barren, completely. That’s weird. You look more, craning your head to gaze more at your surroundings. As you start to properly take in the atmosphere of the basement, it dawns on you. You’ve never fully realized it before, given you haven’t had the opportunity to until now.

Knuckles’ space was lonely. Extremely lonely looking.

There were the essentials, coach, table, bed, even a box tv, but not a whole bunch else. The space lacked any kind of personality or decoration. Almost like a default Sims room. There was nothing there to define it as Knuckles’ own space, completely empty of anything he could call his own. It bothered you.

“Is there something else that needs asking?”

The echidna looks to you, the same inquiring expression as before. Had he even glanced away in the first place, you didn’t know.

You kept your mouth shut as you mentally ran through your options, not wanting to say anything rude. You scolded yourself. Should’ve known better. Knuckles came from a completely different world. Did you think he brought anything with him? He owns nothing. The only exception being his own damn shoes.

You feel you’re at a loss when suddenly, a lightbulb pops in your head. Oh.

You face Knuckles, finally answering. “Hey…” You start, a little nervy for his reaction. “What do you think about going to the store with me?”

He pauses, and looks at you as if you’ve grown another head. “The store?”

You nod.

Without missing a beat, Knuckles was once again, confused. He sat his book down on the coach, sitting up upright. “Why?”

You shrug. “Thought you’d just want to go outside a little. You haven’t done that since you got here.” While it wasn’t lying, it wasn’t telling the truth either.

Knuckles shook his head. “No.” He declined. “I cannot. I am forbidden from leaving the emerald unattended.”

Humming, your feet shifted positions, angling you so you were leaning against the wall. “Aw come on.” You say, halfway between a whine and an exclamation of annoyance. But even still, Knuckles held his ground, a stern frown set on his face. “No. I must turn down your offer.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping.

The echidna notices. “I am sorry.” He turns back to the book that had been resting face down on the coach. “Now… if you’ll excuse me, I will return to the fox’s book…”

Your mouth dropped in the shape of an ‘O’, an idea hitting you at the mention of your mutual friend. “Wait.” You exclaim, regaining Knuckles’ attention. “What if Tails can watch it?”

He starts, brain slowing a little at the discovery of this new information. “...If the fox can act as guardian while I am away?” Repeating the sentence out loud to affirm it, looking to you to see if he had heard it right. You nod, practically on the edge of your seat, waiting for him to carry out his sentence.

“Well,” He starts. “The fox can be trusted,” Knuckles looks deep in thought as he ponders this new option. “I suppose if the hedgehog does not interfere with Tails’ focus then, I guess it is possible.”

That’s all you needed to hear. “It would just be for a matter of hours. Shopping doesn’t take a whole day.”

Knuckles rubs his chin. He contemplates the idea of Tails taking over his position a bit more before he ultimately accepts, not having much reason to say no. “If so,” He makes eye contact with you, purple irises peering into your own a little intense for the circumstance. Yet, Knuckles is Knuckles, and he is determined. He speaks with that same formality he often does, “Then I do accept your offer, Y/N of house L/N.”

Oh yeah, forgot about that.

“It’s just Y/N Knux. I’ve told you that.”

It took about a week to organize you and Knuckles’ little shopping trip. Between your work schedule and Tails’ own experiments, it was somewhat difficult to arrange for him to come over. Yet, you were stubborn, and with some convincing for Knuckles, and reassurances for Tails, you got the fox over for your house. He didn’t need to do much, just keep an eye on the Master Emerald while you all were away. All it took was a quick tour of the house, showing him where the food and utensils were, a quick goodbye and you and the echidna were off.

Knuckles had asked before where you two would be shopping and what you would be shopping for. You did your best to wave him off, telling him what kind of stores you would be going to, but not so much your intention. As vague as it was, he chose not to question any further.

You took Knuckles to a variety of shops, Home Goods, Target, Home Depot. All shared one feature. Decor. Through the limited time you had spent with him, you had learned some things about his world. As confined as your knowledge was, you know it DID NOT look like the plain basement he was currently living in. And though he’d never said otherwise, it wasn’t hard to believe that the echidna could be a little homesick. You would be if you were in his position. You planned on making his home more like a home. Nothing less.

And so, you did. First, you tried looking for larger things. That way you could build a foundation, and work your way up with smaller items. This way, you could also fill up the otherwise empty space. You figured some blankets to make an overhang type thing and the hammock you found in clearance would do nicely.

“These would look really nice in your room, Knux. Whadya think?” You paused, catching yourself, a stutter falling from your lips. “I-I mean if you want to? You don’t have to- of course.”

Knuckles looked up at you. He blinked, eyes widening a slight fraction. You two were the only ones in the aisle.

“So.” He said slowly. “This was your plan?”

“Uh” You eloquently spoke. “Yea?” Reflexively averting your eyes from the echidna, you sweat dropped, waiting for Knuckles to react. How could you face him when he was gazing at you like that?

Though what you assumed was a look of offense, was actually of wonder, and even something of another nature.

Knuckles inhaled, turning toward the bundled up hammock on the rack, picking it up with a gloved hand. The silence was suspenseful. It usually happened this way: Knuckles doing much of his thinking in his own head while you stressed out internally. It would be funny if you didn’t constantly get the short end of the stick.

“Do you pity me?”

You were caught off-guard, head whipping back to the echidna. What? Why would he say that? “I- uh, no?”

He kept his gaze on the hammock as he spoke, each syllable low as he concentrated on saying them correctly. “Is pity the reason you choose to do things like this?

Mouth agape, you truly were lost. To say you had trouble finding words was an understatement. Did he- feel bad? That was the last thing you wanted him to feel.

You take your time choosing your next words, for they could either make or break this moment. “I- listen Knux, look at me? Please?” And so he did, standing a little slouched in comparison to his regular, straight posture. The lavender purple of his eyes had a guarded melancholy to them you had never seen before. Both changes spur you on to reassure your friend while also shake you where you stand. The range was astounding.

You cleared your throat. “N-No, not out of pity per say…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words as Knuckles stood patiently, quietly, never once taking his eyes off you. “I just- the other day when I asked you about the toilet paper? Yeah I uh, I realized how unwelcoming and- plain your space looked and I just felt bad because you didn’t have a single thing a-and I wanted you to feel a home- I know it's probably really hard being launched into a whole new world with nothing but some shoes and I just-”

Knuckles reached out and grasped your hand, gripping it gently appit firmly. It pulled you out of your spiraling ramble. “Slow down.” He urged. “You’re not in a race Y/N, house of-”

“Ok, ok” You laugh a little, giggling at the return of the silly title and wrangling with the fact he had grabbed you in the first place.

You take a breath, inhaling deeply before starting again. “I just- want you to feel comfortable. And, I thought this was a way to do it.”

At that, Knuckles’ features relax, and he looks away, thinking. “I- You are a very kind human.” He concludes, dropping your hand to take a set back from you. “But,” He says, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I cannot accept this.” He moves to put the hammock back, reaching up to set it back on the shelf.

“Wha- hey! Wait, why?” You half shout, catching his hand and stopping his movement. Though he could easily muscle past you, he chooses to stop with you. “Because,” He defends. “I do not need it.”

You huff. “Well I know that, Winter Soldier.” You go to gently pry the hammock out of Knuckles’ hand. Again, he lets you, though not without a face that screams ‘what are you doing’. “But I want you to have it.”

The warrior detests. “I don’t-”

“Knuckles, bud.” You tenderly cut him off, smiling with a benevolence that you hope conveys your honesty. “I want to do this for you.” You lean forward to pronunciate your sentence, catching eyes with the echidna that widens more and more as you continue to speak. “I don’t mind buying this, or anything else for you.” You shake the item in your hand for emphasis. “Will you let me?”

Knuckles freezes momentarily. You swear you see a hint of pink on what you would consider his cheeks as he somewhat suddenly turns his head away, wrestling with himself and with your proclamation.

“I-” He’s stuck, and he has to give himself a mental kick in the rear to get him going again. “I guess… I would like the hanging blanket.”

You let out a sigh, relieved you both are on the same page. “Awesome.”

After getting most of the larger decorations, you then focus your attention on smaller things. What those smaller things would be is now up to Knuckles, who has grown more open to the whole ordeal as the hours passed. A large variety of things were considered, such as candles and fairy lights, even some abstract art pieces that would be fit for a garden. Though the things that were favored above all, and the things that you kept catching the echidna staring at, were the plants. His eyes would linger on the greenery, especially on some of the more exotic ones. Those didn’t take much convincing to let you buy, the warrior only giving a few words in approval: “This one will do…” “...Possibly this one as well.” It wasn’t hard to tell that Knuckles felt weird doing plant shopping of all things, he’s never done anything like it before. And because of that, you did everything with your power to talk to him, to make this as casual and as pleasant as an experience can be. Normalizing domesticity in one of the most powerful fighters in the galaxy may sound difficult on the surface, but as you two approached the end of your short adventure (store worker looking as flabbergasted at your friend as a person could), you found no trouble at all leading Knuckles to check out at the last shop with your abundance of wildlife greenery, and onto this new kind of life you’ll be sharing with the echidna from now on.

It didn’t take long to set all the decor up back at home. With Knuckles’ help, you all made quick work of it. The hammock came first, finding a secure way to hang the thing was a little tricky, but once you broke out the power tools, installing it went by with a breeze. Same case for the fort. You looked up some ideas on pinterest, but you quickly learned that there is actually some strange red mammal in the house who can make a really rad blanket fort by memory. You’ll have to ask him for advice sometime. As for the plants, the one space was filled right up, the emptiness being replaced with a vibrancy that definitely made you feel welcomed. As for Knux, well, he was happy. You knew it. Even as he tried to keep a straight face as he walked around admiring the hanging plants, which branches gracefully cascaded over the rim of their pots.

“While nothing could ever replace my home,” Knuckles said remorsefully as he adjusted a small potted fern, angling it in the most eye-catching way, “This does make the space feel… different.” He trailed off, looking down as he thought of a history and sentiment not unknown to you.

“A good kind of different?” You ask with a hint of a coy tone.

Knuckles looks at you, your playfulness gone completely over his head. Instead, his face is pleasant, approving in some way. “I think so…” He remarks, words sounding confident to your ears. Though his expression changes to something more reluctant as the next thought pops into his head, slipping out his mouth before he can stop it. “You did not have to provide this…”

It takes a good amount of effort to steel yourself from rolling your eyes in the back of your head. You ‘tsk’ in frustration. “Knux, I know. But I chose to. Understand?”

He nods, though hesitant to fully accept the finer feelings, “Yes... It is a lot like the echidna’s honor code in battle.” Seeing your perplexed face at his random reference, he elaborates. “Even though my tribe held proud independent warriors, we helped our comrades at our own discretion. Whether they wanted the aid or not.”

At that, you made a sound of realization. “Ohhh okay, okay. I get it.” You smile down at your friend, who had seemed satisfied in how his room now appeared. It brought you great joy to see the typically stone-faced tank with a softer, more relaxed look. It gave you the confidence to ask one more borderline teasing question, “See, some things aren’t so different, now are they?”

Once again, the intention passes Knuckles by. “No,” he notes, too preoccupied with his own brain to give back any more of an answer. “No they are not.”

You take no notice, grinning in genuine joy for Knuckles. “Good.”

It's during the most unsuspecting moments in which the most unexpected events take place. Shouldn’t you know that by now?

What the fuck. I should go to the ER. No that’s a stupid idea. What the fuck are they gonna do, put ice on it? I can do that. What the fuck. Well I’ll probably need something more than ice. Ibuprofen? Maybe. A shot? Yeah. What the fuck. Why? Why did they do that? I don’t understand. To me? Why to me? I’m sorry. What the fuck. I’m tired. I wanna go to bed. What if I wait till the morning? Can I sleep like this? I can try. Probably not. What the fuck. Should I call my friends? No they’re probably busy. I can take care of it. What the fuck. Was it really that special? Was it worth that much trouble? I should’ve been more careful. How old was it? I’m sorry. What the fuck. That bitch. What a fucking piece of shit. I’m sorry. What the fuck.

The calculating rationality that most healthy-minded people would have in these situations was lost to you. Sometimes you thought of it as a gift from god himself: the ability to see things in such simplicity that the problem itself never even posed an ounce of a threat. Never in your life have you had that. Though, never in your life have you ever been healthy-minded, so the math kinda works out in a weird, twisted way.

The hole in your chest remained through it all. Never once subsiding in its outrage. It held every emotion possible as it freely expressed them all, only confined to your heart. Unwavering in every roar, it made such a ruckus. If only it felt just as exposed as you did, then maybe it would shut up. Maybe it would silence itself, just as you were now. Instead, you would have to deal with its burden, as well as the aching that started from your forearm, leading up to the triceps of your shoulder.

It was still daytime. The sun had not yet set, though it was about to. The sky’s vast shades of pinks, purples and blues lit up the darkening landscape of the range, the green and the brown of the earth ever so slowly growing into one cool shade of black. The air was as crisp as ever. It felt mocking in how pure it was, untouched by the will of others beyond its reach. It was the only thing pushing you to walk up your own porch’s stairs, for every bone in your body absolutely refuted the idea of entering your home in the condition that you were in. And only because of one thing. One, small thing.

Your melancholy seemed to express itself through the stomp of your shoes on the old wood. Bump bump bump. It was quiet, not wanting to be heard. Though it was, as there were no sounds to go with it besides the giggling of your keys and the distant sounds of crickets coming to life. Though the adrenalin had since worn off, the nerves had not yet seized. You’ve only got through half the battle. And who to say it had even begun in the first place?

The key was a little difficult to find with one hand. With a shaky arm, you plucked it from the batch, loudly shaking it to rid it of its neighbors. It was slotted in with a good push. You didn't have much trouble turning it. It was with a weighted heart you entered the house, stepping one foot, and then the other past the threshold, the door letting out a loud creak to welcome you home. You didn’t appreciate it. Just as quickly as you were cleared, you gripped the edge roughly, firmly shutting the door back up, locking it, therefore silencing it, for the night.

The house was just as quiet. The thunk of the shut door echoed through the house, disturbing the void. You found yourself unwilling to move forward. The feeling in your heart didn’t want you to. It weighed you down to the floor, outright sticking the soles of your feet to the carpet of the doormat. If it wasn’t for the consistency of your arm’s pain, it was possible you would’ve been standing there all night. It keeps you motivated, reminding you of its presence with every throb.

You toe’d your shoes off where you stood, setting the keys down softly onto the table beside it. Eyeing the kitchen sink that was visible from the door, you padded towards it quietly, evading any spots prone to creek. One by the TV, another by the dividing wall, another by the knife drawer. You subconsciously counted them whilst listening to your quiet feet step one, after the other, after the other.

You nudged the water on with your elbow, the liquid coming out the tab in an easy trickle. Putting your hand under the stream, you felt the water for its temperature. You found it was tolerably lukewarm. That should be fine. Muscling the appendage up from its hanging position below the counter, you bent your arm at the elbow, angling your forearm to get the brunt of the water’s force. You winced when it made contact. It wasn’t pleasant at all. As soothing as it should feel, the area was still sensitive, even to the gentle stream. You watched uneasily as the sink was turned a maroon, the red coloring the once clear liquid. From there, you started to gently rinse off the wound, trying to wash away the blood that had since dried and scabbed over. It was a tedious and aggravating task. The blood was stubborn. You had to really scrub to get it to leave, irritating both you and your skin. You started using some of your fingernails when you became impatient, ignoring the pain that came with it. Anxiety started to bubble within you the longer you stood there, the old clock in the living room doing nothing to ease your nerves as it boldly ticked away. Tick tick tick. You swear this was sabotage. Karma has come to get you. If only this would go faster, then maybe you wouldn’t be out in the open so-

“You’ve returned early.”

Whatever you ate from lunch that day immediately tripled in weight, making your stomach drop at the sound of his voice. You stopped rubbing at your arm, freezing the movement entirely. Your posture went rigid, though you tried masking it with a shift in your stance. You refused to turn around to face him. You couldn’t. Not now, not here. You wouldn't risk it. You didn’t trust your poker face at this moment, which was too caught up in showing you trying to figure out a response that remained calm.

You let out a humorless chuckle. It was so unnatural and disingenuous it made you cringe. Not dissimilar to nails on a chalkboard. “Ha ha yeah, we uh- finished up pretty quickly.” You say this while still facing the sink. Though you were no actor, you felt comfortable resuming your washing, this time slowing down with slower, more deliberate strokes as to appear with a facade of calmness.

“I suppose that is good.” Knuckles shrugs as he says, “Based on what you said before you departed.” He begins to walk closer and off to the right, edging his way to your side, unaware of the person on the edge of a mental breakdown right in front of him. Hearing his footsteps grow nearer, you shift your weight to ensure your back is to the echidna, even as he tries to change that. It almost makes you forget what he had just said, not expecting the remark. “Oh- uh, right.” You say, feigning an agreeing attitude.

You recall the event. You loosely remember telling Knuckles you were heading out. When he asked you why, you didn’t want to lie to him. Poor guy has already had enough of that happen to him. So you told him the truth, adapt a vague version of it. “Just something I promised I’d help someone do. Ha ha… I mean, I don’t really want to, but I’d better.” He watched you leave, silently questioned your weird act as you begrudgingly gathered your things. Yet he knew the importance of promises, he himself taking them very seriously. So he let you go without much fuss, despite the twinge of suspicion in the back of his mind.

He seemed to be satisfied with the closed proximity. About 5 feet away from what you could tell just from your hearing. The sound of the water running still remained in the air, serving as the white noise to this one-sided conversation. You couldn’t even imagine how sore your jaw would be after this from how hard you’ve been clenched it. The emptiness laughed at you as the seconds ticked by. What you wouldn’t give to just seal it away, to just find some semblance of peace, to just be and exist normal in this moment without having to breathe fucking manually just to appear fine.

“How did it go?” Knuckles asked, taking up the mantle as the conversation starter. You would have room to think ‘hey he’s not so bad at it’ if you weren’t a little busy. Yet as it all things go, busy turns into anxiety, anxiety turns into panic, and panic turns into bad. Fucking. Choices.

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Now why did you say that?

You could feel your face flare up with heat. Out of fear or anger, you couldn’t know. The only thing you did know, was the suffocating sound of silence that followed. It was so loud. You stopped your scrubbing a little bit ago.

“What are you doing?”

Fuck.

You hear the question, but not really. It’s odd coming from the warrior, you think. Though you don’t really think as you have to figure out something, and fast.

“U-uh, dishes.”

You spit it out before you really have a chance to think about it. You’re proud for a half-second at your white lie, but the celebration is short-lived when your insides move in sickening ways for the second time while in the conversation.

“I’ve already done them. There are none.”

Fuck.

The silence finds some way to be worse than before. It’s brutal. Never ending its assault on your hammering heart, and never yielding to the vulnerability of your mind. Oh my god could you please just-

“Is there something-“

“…”

“What is on your arm?”

FUCK.

The dread is immense. The impending doom of that singular question is incredible. All senses are blocked from you like a deer in headlights, unable to make out the true meaning of the ask. The hole in your chest becomes invigorated in its bloodlust, your own panic spurring it on to mobilize it while also paralyzing you.

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it is.” You miss the way he says it. It’s calming, concerned. His eyes are careful. A completely opposite force to you. But it all completely passes you by in the current state you are in.

He takes a set forward, just one. You recoil, just enough for the echidna to notice. He doesn’t take another one as he continues to speak clearly, yet deeply and seriously. It doesn’t help ease you much at all.

“Let me see.” It's more of a demand than a request. It makes you shrink back, lip curled down in displeasure. You knew he meant no harm, but it doesn’t stop the back of your mind from taking it in a negative connotation.

“No! It-It's fine!” You grasp your injured arm, still futilely trying to keep it out of sight from Knuckles. Your heart beats away in your chest, boiling like a pot of hot water about to spill over. You’re scared, you realize that now. Of what, you haven’t got to that part yet.

He takes another step, undeterred by your protests, which spur him on further. “No, it is not.” He reaches a hand up, open and waiting to grasp yours.

“I’m fine. Knux, really.” You stress, your voice becomes wobbly as do you. “It’s o-ok, just-“

“No.” The echidna says, the tone he uses sounds final, yet soothingly firm. It makes you stop your panic, just a little. Every word that comes next feels like magic, doing almost supernatural things to your head to make you hear them, to really hear them, for what they are. Each is punctuated with a softness unlike anything your friend had ever used before.

“Y/N, let me see your arm.”

“Please.”

You stop. Taking a deep breath in, you take your time to let it back out. It allows you to see things the way they actually are. There, Knuckles stands. Arm raised, palm open. His stance is mostly relaxed, though if you look closer, a hint of anxiety is there. His eyes were kind, sympathetic, the crease of his eye wrinkled with a stress you’ve never seen from him. In battle it was a harder line, strengthened with anger and determination. Here it was nothing like that. It was fragile, gentle, and even looked painful to wear for long.

Moved by the look, you evaluate yourself as you were. As defensive as you are now, in hindsight, what were you defending against?

Slowly, you ease up. You wordlessly turn to face him, and without much thought, you lower your arm down and away from your body, and towards Knuckles’ awaiting hand. He takes it, tenderly turning it over to look at what he had seen a glimpse of before.

He freezes. His eyes widen, jaw literally dropping at what he’s seeing. Yet, he doesn’t say a thing. He’s just as frozen as you were a minute ago. Like a statue he just stands there, not moving an inch as all thoughts and movement cease. It makes you sweat, not doing much to quell your aching heart.

He doesn’t make eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on the sight of your arm before him. The quills on the back of his head and around his face start to raise, puffing out his features to make them appear larger. It seems as if he has a hard time saying it himself, as he grits out the question. Finally, he speaks. His eyes narrow, brow furrowing downward at his own word.

“Who?”

Though it was only one word, it didn’t fail in striking trepidation through your heart. You’re silent as the question hangs in the air, awaiting an answer that you never planned on giving.

But Knuckles still wants it, so he asks again.

“It was them… Wasn’t it?”

His voice lowers as he utters the phrase, even as he tries to keep an even tone. His anger builds as the seconds of silence tick by, seconds that do not deny the question. His mouth contorts at the ongrowing outrage, curling down into a snarl. Even he, who knows the repercussions of not keeping your anger under control, cannot stop the blooming, burning feeling so deep in his gut that it makes everything he’s ever said about remaining calm sound like a lie.

And without a response from you, there's nothing to stop the echidna’s rage.

Suddenly, and without warning, Knuckles drops your arm, which you pull back to you to hold. Then, he just… walks away, wasting no time at all as he makes determined strides to the front door. He’s mumbling words as he goes. If you listen closely, you could hear the more punctuated ones, such as ‘coward’, or ‘unworthy’.

“H-hey!” You stutter out, tripping over your own feet as you try going after Knuckles. “What are you doing?”

“Going to go deal with the problem.” He grumbles, making the situation sound oh-so simple. He’s halfway to the exit at this point.

“Hey wait!” You try again, “Where are you going?? I didn’t tell you where I went.” You take more steps to the door, not covering near enough ground to catch up with him.

“I’ll find them.” Knuckles flat out growls, getting increasingly agitated by the second. His fists tighten into intimating weapons of pure strength, just itching to get one good hit in.

An image plays over and over in his head. You, face pale at his discovery of your bleeding arm, the very real fear that showed in your body language. It angered him. Greatly.

He’s about to reach for the door handle before your feet catch up with your thoughts, legs propelling you forward. Your head spins at the possibility of Knuckles facing those responsible. That is the literal opposite of what you wanted. The thought of it alone is what gets you going faster.

“Don’t!” You shout, grabbing his shoulder to stop him from going any further. “Please don’t.”

“And why not?!” He yells right back, whipping himself around to fully face you. He sheered as he spoke, a grumble to his voice that made him appear more frightening than what he truly was. He used a booming voice that conveyed all of his frustrations pretty clearly. “They need to pay.”

“I-I know- just,” You take a minute to rub your hand down your face, already at your stress limit.

Knuckles interrupts, unable to contain himself at what seems to him is your level of complacency. “It is inexcusable!!” He roars, refusing to back down. “I will not stand for it.” He tried once more to leave, turning away from you. You stop him again, overcome with your own anxiety. You feel the incessant need to fiddle with your hands as you put your foot down.

“I KNOW!” Your scream catches both you and Knuckles off-guard. The house becomes eerily quiet with the lack of noise, the sounds of the pipes and utilities on the edges of their seats as they watch on. You were never one to get aggressive to those you cared for, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And yes, you were, in fact, desperate. Your abdomen cramps, making it harder and harder to sooth the situation like you normally could if you weren’t so caught up in your own head. Your breaths are heavy, holding the weight of everything you have done and said up until this point. You’re sure your lungs are willfully unprepared to take up the burden of what you plan on saying next.

You soon discover you’re right.

“I know-w” you pant, shoulders crumpling in on the rest of your body. “Just pl-please, please dontgo, I donwanna-” It suddenly gets harder to speak, your throat constricting around itself, preventing the words from escaping you. Even it doesn’t want you to sound weak. “I-I’m sorry…”

At this point, you’re at the end of your rope. You were frightened. Of what Knuckles could do, what they could do, what you would do… it all ran through your mind at a million miles an hour. You haven't even begun to rationalize with yourself the event that got you in this mess in the first place, and it was starting to catch up to you. You simply did not have the mental capacity to process all that it happened. And it showed on your face, lines of worry etched into what used to be smooth features. And suddenly you seem much, much older, The sheer pressure adding decades of age, your bones turning frail, matching the vulnerability of your headspace. Your eyes lowered to the ground, head drooping, ashamed of what you feel and afraid of what you've become because of it.

And Knuckles finally sees it all.

The echidna’s own worry lines grow at the realization, his own chest tightening at the sight of you. It’s a strange thing to him, a feeling he had trouble recognizing at first, seemingly forgotten from his younger days with his father. It confused him, and he didn’t exactly have anything to compare it to. How was the battle-hardened echidna supposed to know what it was? Yet with the help of his new family providing guidance and remaining patient, he was eventually able to figure it out, though only roughly. What he did discover, however, is that it often came with his anger.

He was worried. So, so worried.

And that scared him.

He didn’t like feeling worried, not one bit. He detested the idea of him being worried the moment he comprehended he was. Knuckles the Echidna, worried? How ridiculous. It was a weak emotion, he thought at first. It would slow him down, make him vulnerable, and even, worst comes to worst, allow for him to get taken advantage of again. That’s what he told himself, at least.

When he saw your arm, he felt his worry come at full force. It struck through his heart, piercing it with a sharp, clean cut. What he left out of his explanation for his dislike of worry, was the deeper meaning that had apparently escaped all he knew, even his closest friends.

It was the fact that his worry reminded him of everything he had failed to do. Every promise he broke, every vow he made to nobody but himself yet did not hold true. And even then, as he realized the how and the who to the backstory of your injuries, he failed again, once more not delivering on a promise he made to himself: to protect his protector. And oh, did it anger him. It angered him so much. To fail at such an extent, it was downright shameful.

It was easy for the madness to take hold, he often let it. And he did. He let his anger control him when he found your blood exposed to the elements, your skin inflicted with a bruise the size of a baseball. It coursed through his veins at an insane rate, setting his mind into overdrive, acting as a catalyst to every negative image that crossed his mind. A spark ignited within him, the flame erupting within his chest, the flame of revenge. “How dare they? How could they? You?! Of all people to attack? How weak, how pathetic. How dishonorable.”

And in that instance, he remembered his promise, and sought it out to hold it true, by whatever means necessary. It would be easy for him. Light work even, and he would definitely get immense satisfaction in absolutely pummeling your enemies. You wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

Though easy does not mean right. And as much as he would find gratification in solving this problem for you, your health took precedence over everything. Even this. He knew that, it just took him a minute to fully remember. Your eyes sure helped, pleading, watery, bloodshot from stress, it all came together in a heartbroken concoction, like a liquid potion ready to persuade its victim of anything. And he had fallen for it, though willingly. It wasn’t hard, you were you after all.

He takes a deep breath to settle that smoldering fire within him. “Okay.” He speaks within a new tenderness that does wonders to calm your racing heart. “I won’t go anywhere, nor do anything.”

He grasps your arm carefully, beginning to lead you to the couch nearby. “Come,” he says “let's sit you down. Your wound needs treatment.”

You nod absentmindedly, not exactly understanding, but doing so nonetheless. You follow him one step at a time as you take your seat, Knuckles leading you down all the while. His touch isn’t something many would expect from the tough echidna. It was gentle, delicate, like a soothing balm to cover the sores on your soul. “Stay.” He spoke in a whisper, “I will return with the box of aid.”

“First aid?” You joke weakly, voice cracking with the effort.

Knuckles is either unaware of the gag, or chooses not to react. “Yes, that.”

Without another word, he quickly dashes away, returning just as fast with the kit in hand.

It took some mumbled guidance from you for the echidna to understand what to do. Though that was understandable, since the guy has never had to use the first aid kit before.

He was uncharacteristically careful in how he treated your wound. Every time the pads of his fingers brushed against your skin, it was gentle, almost feather-like. Especially around the mangled tissue of your injury. Here, Knuckles’ touch was that of a ghost. There, but not really. Its presence was felt, surely, though not nearly enough for your senses to pick it up as something harmful. You could confidently say the warrior had not caused you any excess pain. Which was already monumentally better than you.

It was quiet as he worked. It was somewhere between a comfortable and uncomfortable silence. It was hard to tell which. So many things remained questioned, so many things remain unsaid. What could you say? What good will an explanation do? Well, some obviously. You of course knew that. It was still hard though, to say the truth. Even if you’ve known it for years.

As rough as you were, the wound was clean of any dried blood or debris. Knuckles knew as well, and went straight to wrapping it up. Placing a sterile absorbent pad on the bruise he secured it with some medical tape, which he probably used an excessive amount of. But you chose not to say anything. He also examined your bruise on your forearm, though decided there wasn’t much to be done about that. However, it didn’t stop him from putting a bandaid on the area. Again, you let it slide.

Knuckles quickly gathered up the supplies he had gotten from the kit, putting them back in the box haphazardly. I’ll fix it later, you thought to yourself.

The warrior chose to sit by your side about a foot apart from you. Not too close, not too far. He held his tongue for a minute, eyes kept trained on the floor beneath the both of you. Perhaps waiting for you to speak first, perhaps muddling over the same thing you were. It was not easy for anyone to read the echidna’s mind, not unless Knuckles himself said his thoughts aloud.

Which he often did.

“How come you didn’t tell me of this?” He spoke the question in a whisper, matching the delicate atmosphere with the tone of his voice. He looked to face you, eyes missing their usual luster of purple. You hated to be the cause of such a loss.

You had to think for a second. You yourself didn’t know the answer to such an ask, even though you would be the one person who would. You fidgeted with your fingers, picking at the skin of them as your mind twisted and turned. It took several more moments before you could come up with a conceivable answer, one at least an outsider could begin to understand.

“I… I didn’t know what to do.” You started. Knuckles sat to your right, as patient as ever, gloved hands propped up on the coach, which straightened his posture to attention.

You continue as best you could, “I guess- I mean, I think I wanted to handle it?” It comes out in the question, not sure of yourself in the slightest.

“Why?” Knuckles butts in, quick to question the decision. His brows furrowed in confusion, genuinely not understanding.

“Why?” You say back, parrot-like. “Uh-h…” You had to think to yourself again. It’s astonishing how so much over thinking can go right down the drain when you need your excessive ideas the most. “Because uhh, I mean it’s my thing isn’t it?”

The echidna’s face doesn’t change, still frozen in trying to figure out what you mean, and it shows on his face. So you try again. “It’s… my responsibility.”

A deep frown spreads across Knuckles’ face, painting his features in a disapproving way. “Your responsibility?” He repeats. You nod meekly, taking hold of your injured arm to cradle it, still not knowing what to do with your hands.

Closing his eyes, Knuckles huffs out a breath. He stands, pushing himself off the coach in a smooth motion. Your heart jumps at the thought of him walking away and leaving you there alone, but the muscle soon calms to see him turn to face you, coming to stand before you. There you two are level. It's truly one of the only scenarios in which the both of you can see eye to eye, when the warrior can peer right into your eyes without having to look up or down. Just maybe, he chose this on purpose.

Knuckles reach down to your lap, oh so gingerly taking your arm into his hands to hold, looking at the bandaged injury whilst he says his piece, the smoothness of his voice just barely echoing through the home. “My father was a kind soul” he breathes out, “yet he had a habit of keeping the burdens that weighed on him all to himself.”

Your eyes grew wide at the mention of Knuckles’ kin. He’s talked about them before, though this is definitely the most personal it's ever gotten.

“You remind me of him in this way” He looks up to you, eyes with a hazy focus, thumb brushing against the cotton of your bandage softly. “A protector that refuses to be protected.”

The silence is deafening as the two of you contemplate what has just been said. You more so. You’re shocked to say the least. The sentiment of Knuckles comparing you to his own father, someone he loves and respects extensively is… overwhelming. The weight of it seems to help ease your nervousness.

“What role do you think I play in this tribe?” Knuckles asks, titling his head down to try to make eye contact with you. It kind of works, coaxing your own up to face him as well.

“Uh” You stumble, “A guardian?”

Knuckles does the echidna equivalent of a ‘uh huh’. “Yes. I am a guardian.” He continues, “What of the hedgehog and his fox friend?”

You look up to the ceiling, it now appears much more appealing as you think of a response. “Well they’re kind of protectors too.”

Knuckles nods, asking one more time “And Maddie and Tom?”

You’re on a roll, now feeling more comfortable looking Knuckles in the eyes. “Them too.”

“Right.” He says, satisfied. “In our tribe, we all have the role of guardian. And so, we all protect. Especially each other.”

Now you see where this is going. “Knux, I’m not sure if I-”

He interrupts. “Whatever you are about to say- it is wrong.”

“Knux I-”

“No. Wrong.”

“But I-”

“No.”

You give up, giving in to the echidna’s game. You swear you can see a twinge of a smile start to creep onto his face.

“But if I may,” He adds, voice suddenly becoming dimmer as he breaks eye contact to look back at your arm. “I do think there is one difference among us.”

“In what?”

Knuckles takes a breath, seemingly randomly getting anxious. You can’t fathom why. “As a guardian, I am meant to treat all I protect equally.” You nod, agreeing but not getting the point. “Though I do not.”

He slid his hands down to grip your own, head lifting to let his eyes peer into yours unwaveringly. They look to be dripping with his usual determination, along with something else you couldn’t place. Something kinder, something sweeter. “Though each of us were guardians,” he pauses, thinking for a moment “you have had a different duty ever since the EggMan’s defeat.”

You blink, trying to follow as best you can. Knuckles continues, “Your duty is dangerous. Fragile as humans are, I was surprised when you took up the task. It requires constant vigilance, not many could keep it up for long.”

His hands tighten around yours, squeezing momentarily before easing up. Perhaps a reminder for himself. The urge to squeeze back comes and goes. “I have since then grown a respect for you unmatched by any other. Both because of that, and because of your character.”

His pause invokes a special importance, pulling you in. It was captivating, doing its job in changing the atmosphere only slightly. “You are precious to me, as I have grown to know you. More so than the other members of our tribe.”

Your eyes widen, not expecting such a declaration. You have to keep your mouth from opening in shock.

Unperturbed, the warrior continues. The fiercest of his eyes growing with every passing moment. His grip becomes impossibly more gentle, every callous he ever had suddenly disappearing. “Though my focus does lie with the master emerald, it is you that keeps my attention and company Y/N, not any gem or jewel.”

“I don’t know why you would think that.” You blurred out, too caught off guard to think to hold back.

Knuckles takes it in stride, once again taking a breath, wanting to speak as clearly as possible. The effort from keeping his cool shows on his face, a little scrunched with the strain. He leans in to emphasize his next words, yearning to have you understand him. “I do.”

The staticky fog in your mind doesn’t seem so intense anymore.

“You have commendable bravery, and a personality unlike any other. Attributes I now hold dear.” Knuckles returns your hands to your lap, taking the opportunity to straighten the fabric of your shirt, which has since been crooked. The neckline is quickly fixed back into its usual spot with a quick tug upward, letting it fall back into position naturally. He now spoke with a more annoyed tone than before. It would’ve alarmed you about 5 minutes ago, though now you’ve calmed, and know the warrior doesn’t point such frustrations to you, but to the third party in question. “Which is why it pains me to see you overwhelmed in this way. Especially by those who are meant to be closest.”

You worry your palms, growing tired at the lack of things you can actually answer. “I’m sorry” You whisper, “I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright” Knuckles whispers back, in a way that differs from your own. A way that makes your thoughts coherent. That actually helps you understand that he's telling the truth. “I don’t know much of troubles such as this… but I do know they can be complex to you.”

He rolls his shoulders, instinctively resetting his posture. “But to me?” He shrugs, “Not so much.”

That earns a watery chuckle from you.

The air feels tired, almost rung out of all energy it had. It’s breathable now, and it lets you digest everything, lets the both of you take a moment to grasp with the gravity of the situation. Lets Knuckles figure out what to say next.

“I want you to make a promise.” He speaks, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a huff.

“What kind?”

“My kind.” He responds.

You sit up straight, a little confused. Knuckles takes it as a signal to proceed.

“I want you to promise to ask for my aid if something like this were to happen again.”

You furrow your brow. “Knux, I don’t think I can-”

“Let me restate that.” He rehashes, cutting you off. “I want you to promise to try to ask for my help.”

You bite your lip, looking off to the side in contemplation. Could you? Realistically. It surely was a difficult question to answer, especially with every little negative thought poking into your brain to tell you no. If this question had been asked before, you probably would have said yes just in passing. It would be easy to say yes, just to get the question over with. But now, as you hold the spotlight, you can't lie. Not to him, not right now. It's neither the time nor place. And you don’t think it ever will be.

But as you look at Knuckles now and into his stupidly sweet lavender gaze of his, your true answer starts to become more and more real. Him and that worried look of his does wonders in helping to encourage you to make that leap, to take that chance that you never knew you would be taking. It's so strange, you think, he could do anything, as mountainous as destroying death robots, or as simple as baking a cake with you on a Sunday morning, and it would all still come together into the nice little package of ‘good’ he had to offer. Nothing changed with him, even now, as that same sense of good comes in clutch to hull you away from your enemies and take on the burden instead of you. An honor like that is impossible to find, and irreplaceable once tossed away. You better remember that Y/N.

And that's when your answer becomes clear. Something so profound and special, so kind and gentle, will never be forgotten or taken for granted if you have any say in it. And it will never shake, nor ever waiver. You have a promise to uphold, and you intend to keep it. As a protector, as the protected, and as a roommate.

#rhaz’s works #sonic the hedgehog x reader #knuckles x reader #knuckles the echidna x reader #knuckles fluff #knuckles the echidna fluff #knuckles x reader fluff #sonic the hedgehog fluff #sonic x reader #sonic fluff #sonic fic #knuckles fic #movie knuckles

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donelywell · 5 months

Text

This is just a summary of how the story goes, kinda like bullet points I guess. If the time ever comes that this eventually gets written as an actual story, It would be a lot more detailed than this. Also, I don't own Sonic Unleashed or think the story is bad (I actually really like it), this is just how a strange person (me) would handle the story in their own fan universe thing.

DEATH EGG October 1

Tails helps Sonic get up to the Death Egg.

Sonic storms the Death Egg, going Super.

Super Sonic follows Eggman, he begs for mercy, but it’s a trick.

Super Sonic gets the Chaos Emeralds ripped right out of him,

Eggman fires a beam filled with the Chaos Energy to the planet, cracking it into 7 pieces, releasing a Giant Monster, but it fades away.

Sonic turns into the Werehog, only barely hearing Eggman yell something about the Gaia Manuscripts through all of the intense pain that he’s going through, and is shot out of the Death Egg with the now drained Chaos Emeralds. Tails, on the Tornado-1, sees this happen, and chases after him.

APOTOS October 1

Sonic crashes into Apotos. He notices that there is a small being passed out near him, so he tries waking him up to see if he’s okay, this ends up scaring the kid for some reason.

Sonic realizes he can’t talk for some reason, his throat feels off and his teeth feel weird, so he uses sign language to try asking if the kid is okay. The kid doesn’t understand, but assumes (probably not the smartest move) that he means no harm because his eyes seem genuinely worried, plus he’s slowly moving as though afraid to scare off the kid again.

The kid calls him ‘Mr. Monster Guy’, which makes Sonic realize he’s not his usual self. This mildly freaks him out, but he tries to act calm to not freak the small creature out. Using his claws, he writes in the dirt, which luckily the kid can read, and realizes the creature has amnesia. Sonic worries that he might have caused it, and vows to help him get his memories back. (Little Fella joined the party!)

Sonic looks at the rising sun, looking at it as something to lean on to stay optimistic, and turns back into his regular self. He finds his shoes and now drained Chaos Emeralds lying on the ground, and with a lot more pep in his step, holds onto the kid and races off to the closest city to hopefully get someone who recognizes the little creature (and see if Tails landed there after he launched Sonic into space).

>Windmill Isle Day Act 1 (plays as it normally would)

Sonic questions everything that just happened, the Chaos Emeralds being drained, the strange new form he took not even 15 minutes prior, what this ‘Gaia Manuscript’ is that Eggman was talking about; but he’s interrupted by the kid getting sidetracked from the memory treasure hunt with an ice cream stand that holds the famous Chocolate Chipped Cream Sundae Supreme! After a little begging, Sonic ends up paying for 2 cones. Sonic ends up calling the creature ‘Chip’ as a temporary nickname until they get his memories back, Chip absolutely loves it.

While they go around enjoying their ice cream and asking questions about Chip's past, Sonic ends up being given someone's pair of gloves.

Meanwhile, Tails is searching for Sonic, he’s surprised that his communicator is broken, or at least not responding, because it should have been able to survive a fall that high. He manages to get a rough estimate as to where he might be judging by where he fell, but Sonic could really be anywhere on this section of the planet with his speed.

Tails is highly concerned for Sonic’s health and safety since the last reading from the communicator reported that his heart rate has spiked dramatically right before he saw him fall from the sky.

>Windmill Isle Day Act 2 (You play as Tails as he flies around town, looking for Sonic)

As he still searches for Sonic as it’s heading into sunset, Tails gets a call from Knuckles telling him that something happened to the Master Emerald and that Angel Island has landed.

Tails tells him that he’s looking for Sonic at the moment, but promises to come over as soon as he can.

After the call is over, Tails realizes how long it’s been since he last ate and spots a local Gyro Food Truck. He ordered a bunch for Sonic to eat later if he spots him.

As the sun is setting, Sonic and Chip still haven’t found anyone who recognizes Chip. Sonic gives Chip a pep talk when he sees that the kid’s down in the dumps, suggesting that there are lots of areas around the world, maybe he’s just not from here. Right when Chip feels reassured, Sonic transforms back into the Werehog. Both are stunned and Sonic realizes that he changes into the form every night (Chip needs a moment to come to the same conclusion).

Chip immediately notices that the Sundae Stand Owner is acting strange, and asks him what’s wrong, even suggesting he eats some ice cream. Sonic shoves his now too-big-shoes into his quills until daytime. Chip accidentally drops the ice cream, but Sonic manages to catch it by stretching his arm out. Both are extremely surprised by this, kinda freaking Sonic out with how strange it feels but he thinks it’s kinda cool. Chip really likes the stripes.

Meanwhile, Tails finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He’s surrounded by these strange enemies and forgot his weapon at the Tornado-1. He would normally spin dash into them, but judging by the sharp claws and spikes on them, his fur would not be enough defense from that hurting him more than it hurting them.

He could have also flown away from danger, but he’s currently trying to protect a lost little girl he found surrounded by said enemies. He knows he doesn’t have enough time to drop his defenses and fly away while carrying her before they attack, so he just has to try keeping the already miniscule amount of ground they have.

While not looking, an enemy gets a lucky hit on him, causing him to yell out in pain. Despite the pain, he refuses to stand down and keeps defending the little girl.

With his new sensitive hearing, Sonic hears Tails’ yell. Instincts kick in, realizing his little brother is hurt, and runs after the sound. Chip, with his not as sensitive hearing, flies after Sonic in confusion.

>Windmill Isle Night Act 1 (plays as it normally would)

Once he makes it to Tails’ location, all of the enemies focus on the actual threat, Sonic. The little girl uses this to run back home, and Tails hides behind a wall holding his wound from bleeding too much.

The enemies are piling onto Sonic, so he unleashes all of the energy he’s built up (and some instincts he didn’t know he had), somehow becoming more powerful for a period of time, yet feeling a little high off the energy practically pouring out of each hit he makes in this unleashed state.

Sonic Emotions Handling Scale:

Normal form- Can hide it frustratingly well and has normal emotions,

Werehog form- His face and new Wolf-like instincts make it hard for him to hide it but he still tends to try to push it off if he can + negative emotions are a lot more powerful + he’s a little clingy,

Unleashed Boost- Can’t hide his emotions to save him and they are extremely powerful + easily goes into a downward spiral in emotions + somehow even more clingy + he still is super emotional when getting out of his Unleashed state and will do things without thinking.

After the fight is over, Tails calls out to Sonic, he knew from the moment Sonic stepped into the battle that it was him, Sonic practically raised him for almost half of his life, how could he not tell? Sonic however, getting out of his Unleashed Boost daze, realizes just how dangerous and brutal he could be in this form. So once he hears Tails’ call, he books it in fear of possibly being able to harm Tails unintentionally.

Chip finally makes it over to the aftermath, he and Tails do a quick introduction (like saying, you know Sonic? You're the brother he was talking about? yep, let's go!), and book it towards Sonic. Tails is surprised that he’s actually able to catch up to Sonic, even on all fours, Tails’ namesakes spinning can beat him in a race now.

Sonic manages to hide in a barrel, in abject terror of what he is. Tails and Chip quickly catch up and sit near the barrel, trying to calm Sonic down. Letting him know that no matter what he looks like, he’ll always be by his side and his little brother. He proceeds to go on about how looking different doesn’t make you a monster or evil, having his tails sway as he talks, as a subtle reminder to Sonic that he went through that fear of being different too.

Sonic slowly uncovers his muzzle to use his hands to sign that he’s a monster who could hurt Tails. Tails is surprised by how open Sonic is being so open about his fears, he normally tries hiding it as best he can so others don’t worry for him (a bad trait that Tails is extremely relieved didn’t seem to carry over when he’s in this form). Tails gives a sad look and recounts all of the times that Tails has accidentally hurt Sonic due to not being used to touch (and the several months it took him to learn how to retract his claws), but Sonic stuck around every time and didn’t blame Tails for it at all.

Tails suggests that he runs a vitals check on Sonic back at the Tornado-1, to see if he can find out what’s causing this form. (Tails joined the party!)

That, and the smell of several Gyros in Tails’ bag, seem to be enough to make Sonic slowly walk out of the barrel on all fours. Tails notices that Sonic’s stomach is rumbling and uses this to walk him over to the Tornado-1 without having his mind drift into negativity (wow, that’s odd, Sonic’s almost never openly negative). Chip finds out Gyros are really good, almost eating 3 before they make it back to the biplane.

After eating, Sonic stands up (and is actively trying to ignore the stomach churning feeling of being so incredibly huge compared to his little brother), to sign that he can’t retract his claws or speak properly. Tails tries to make the best of it and says that Sonic doesn’t need to touch anything for the check up.

As Tails is cleaning up and patching his wound with the first aid kit he has stored in the Tornado-1 (he wanted to immediately do the check up on Sonic, but the werehog refused to even start that until Tails took care of his cut first), Chip is in awe that Tails can understand what Sonic means just by looking at his hands. He really wants to learn how to do that, so he can talk to Sonic at any time of the day. Tails tries to recall that he might still have some flashcards he’d give to any new friends Sonic made when he couldn’t speak.

Now tired and worn out from a long day of running around town, eating tasty food, fighting enemies, and making discoveries, Tails and Sonic sit on a brick fence next to the Tornado-1 to run a Vitals Check.

It’s a symphony of yawns as Chips quickly falls asleep on Sonic’s leg. Tails, being exhausted, unconsciously rests his tails on Sonic's lap (a deep sign of trust) and leans on him as a pillow (he realizes the sheer amount of muscle behind the fur, theorizing that the expanse of his arms might have stretched the communicator too far, thus breaking it), like how he sometimes would do that when the brothers ride a train late at night after a long adventure.

Sonic was in a half asleep state himself, but once he felt Tails’ tails rest on his lap, he perked right up. He’s surprised Tails can trust him so much even in this form, he thought this whole time that Tails was just bluffing it so Sonic would feel better. He might still be bluffing… using that 300 IQ brain to use this token trust sign to make Sonic relax. But Sonic quickly has exhaustion fog his brain again, letting this track of negative thoughts fizzle out at the moment.

With a yawn, Tails murmured that Sonic’s Vitals all seem normal, if not for a slightly higher than average Chaos Energy reading, but it’s not enough for it to change his form.

Tails is officially out, Sonic’s delicately soft fur and heart beat lulling him to sleep. Sonic, still not wanting to possibly harm anyone by accident, gently slips Chip off his leg, landing on his enormous paw (that’s another thing he feels off about, why are his hands so big?), and rests him on his head as he curls up as best he can without jostling Tails much. He tries his best to both find a comfortable position and keep his dangerous hands away from anyone. It’s a rough night, but they all got through it.

In the morning, Sonic transforms back to normal, with Tails handing him some spare gloves and a back-up communicator from the Tornado-1. After enjoying some Tarts for breakfast, they head out to Angel Island. Sonic accidentally falls asleep on the wing while Chip studies his flashcards in the back seat.

Angel Island

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the werehog #tails the fox #miles tails prower #chip the light gaia #sonic unleashed #Sonic Unleashed: World Reimagined #Apotos #unbreakable bond #Uahh!! The first area is done!#The whole reason I'm doing this is mainly because I want to throw brotherly fluff into unleashed >:)

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