Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ten years ago, Green Hills, Montana was the middle of nowhere. With a population of less than 5,000, located in the depths of rural Montana, the township experienced little of note in its 156-year post-settlement history. It was the last place anyone would look for anything important, which is how it became the refuge of one Sonic the Hedgehog.

It was how for a decade he remained, if not completely unnoticed, unannounced (except for the Green Hills police blotter, which was not widely read by those 'in the know').

But that is about to change.

If you were watching from a satellite-

Well, in about ten seconds, aboard a satellite with line of sight to Green Hills, Montana would probably be the last place you'd want to be.

If you were watching it from, say, a defunct military space station, you would see the flash of light spreading across the western half of the country before lights started going dark (spilling over into Canada and Mexico, because power outages don't stop just because you hit the border).

If you were watching very carefully, or had a very specific, finely-tuned sense possessed by only one person on the planet (well, in orbit around the planet), you would see tiny pinpricks of light flickering in and out of existence - not just centered on Green Hills, but all across the visible hemisphere.

If you had any idea what those lights mean…

You would understand why, in time, Green Hills, Montana would become, in some ways, one of the most important places in the world.

Chapter Text

"Dad!" Wade rose from his desk automatically before he forced himself to sit down again. A moment later a silver hedgehog floated around the stack of filing cabinets that gave the illusion of the station having a bullpen separate from the public space. "Dad!" the hedgehog repeated, dropping to the floor to cross the rest of the way to Wade's desk on foot, before he paused, frowning, and floated up to sit on the edge of it (a compromise on the rules against sitting on tables and counters, because it was impossible to hold a conversation with the top of someone's ears, which had for a long time been the most of his son he could see from across the desk if he were sitting in a chair). "There's a new kid at school, and he's an alien."

Wade decided to be glad he hadn't bolted out to meet Silver; it took a careful ear to distinguish between Silver being excited and Silver needing immediate intervention from his father, one it had taken over a year to develop.

And then Wade's brain caught up with what Silver had actually said and his hand spasmed, sending his pen flying from his grip. Silver reached a hand out, hand and pen surrounded by pale blue auras that stopped the pen before it could go anywhere.

"What?" Wade demanded, reaching out to grab the suspended pen. "Thanks, buddy. And what?"

"He's like me," Silver replied, kicking a heel idly against the desk. "I mean, he isn't a hedgehog, but he's an alien. He's purple!"

"That's…uh." Wade glanced at his desk, hoping there was a post-it note indicating Commander Walters had called, disappointed but unsurprised when he found there wasn't. "Unexpected. Did you talk to him?"

"No," Silver groaned, letting himself fall dramatically back on Wade's desk. "Everyone says he's too cool to talk to anybody, and he isn't even in any of my classes, except lunch."

Wade ruminated on that, briefly. He vaguely remembered being called 'stuck-up' in school sometimes when kids really got into bullying him, so was aware Silver's assessment might not be totally accurate. "Well, he might be shy. He's not from around here, and it can be a big adjustment, moving…to the country."

It had been an adjustment for Silver, to be sure, who by all evidence hadn't grown up on Mobius like Sonic or Tails or Knuckles, so didn't even have anyone to commiserate about the things they remembered from back home.

"He might need someone who doesn't think being quiet means…he isn't lonely," Wade continued. "He might really want friends, here. And he might be looking at you hanging out with all your friends and think you're too cool and popular to hang out with a guy like him."

Silver's right ear twitched. "I'm not cool," he replied. "I'm a band geek. Sonic said band geeks are, like, third from the bottom on the coolness ladder."

Wade frowned; he liked Sonic, and while he tended to zone out every time someone tried to explain, the crux of it seemed to be that none of the rest of the Mobians (and Silver, whatever planet he was from) would be here if it weren't for Sonic's zippy-energy thing. But Sonic acted like an authority on how things worked on Earth when all he had was years watching TV through people's windows.

"Well, the important thing to remember is that Sonic doesn't know everything," Wade said, which was the closest he could get to criticizing Sonic the Hedgehog around either of his sons. "This new kid might surprise you." His dad had always said 'it can't hurt to try', because his father had had a very different childhood from Wade, so Wade had tried to suggest his kids take chances without saying that.

Silver hummed in response, which Wade had long ago realized meant Silver didn't agree with him, but knew arguing would just cause trouble; since Wade didn't want to argue about whether his son was obligated to try to make friends with other aliens just because they were both from space, he let it go, reaching out to rub along the grain of Silver's quills, earning a quiet rumble that was 'sort of' like a purr for the alien hedgehogs and foxes running around the planet (the main distinction between this sound and a purr being that none of the boys would consent to it being called a purr).

"I'm here for another hour or two," Wade said. "Do you want to watch Tails for me?"

"He doesn't need a babysitter," Silver groaned.

"He's eleven," Wade retorted. "And besides, you know how he tends to forget house rules if he gets too excited about a project. Come on - up."

"I deserve a treat for this," Silver protested as he hopped down to the floor with a flare of telekinesis.

"I'll think about it. Do you have homework?"

"No." Silver was grinning, despite his earlier protests. I've got the whole weekend off."

"Then you can help me rake the lawn."

"Awgh nooooo," Silver complained.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to be able to use psychic powers around the house, you gotta accept the responsibility of keeping the lawn clean. Besides, the compost pile is your project."

"Fiiiiine," Silver agreed, floating dejectedly toward the exit (it was the ears, mostly, that enabled them to project their feelings from across a room - the slightest flick or droop of an ear, or both of them, the twitch of something catching their attention, and the like). Wade watched after the hedgehog, smiling despite the lukewarm argument and his faint worry about the unexpected appearance of aliens in Green Hills.

More aliens, that is - with upward of six running around the place already, they could hardly be said to unprepared for dealing with visitors from beyond the stars.

He gave it a minute before standing, wandering over to Tom's desk. Tom was transcribing their blotter into his computer to transmit to the state (and G.U.N., who Tom routinely complained could get the report on their own if Walters wasn't desperate to remind them he was the big man on campus).

"Was that Silver?" Tom asked, not looking away from his screen.

"Yeah, just swinging around before heading home." Wade gave it a moment, and when Tom didn't add anything, continued. "Walters didn't leave a message about any new projects, did he?"

"Nope!" Tom typed out a line, squinting at the notes spread out in front of his computer, before looking up at Wade. "Why? Someone from G.U.N. didn't call you, did they?"

"No, but Silver said there's a new kid at school who's pretty clearly an alien."

Tom's brow furrowed. "Did someone else tell him that, or-"

"He's purple."

"O-kay." Tom frowned, glaring a little more intensely at his computer as he drummed his fingers against his desk. "We're not telling Walters anything. If he gets mad later, we'll say we assumed he knew and just thought we'd misplaced the message about it somewhere. Does Malcolm still say he doesn't take messages when you ask if anyone called?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there you go - tailor-made excuse." Tom sat back and sighed. "He's at school - so that means there's an adult involved somehow."

"I could ask-"

"No, I'll go." Tom waved a hand at Wade. "It'll be easier to convince them they've got someone in their corner if the guy in charge is the one saying it. Can you cover me tomorrow afternoon?"

"Silver's got band, so someone would need to watch Tails. Is Shadow free?"

"Probably. I'll check and get back in touch with you."

"Thanks," Wade murmured, though the moment stayed with him as he drove home later. Tom hadn't needed to get babysitters much, even when Sonic (and, later, Shadow) were younger. It was because he had someone to help juggle the schedule, the unexpected events, the emergencies. So while Wade had no particular desire for the partnership, he did envy the fact that Tom had only ever really needed a babysitter when he and Maddie wanted a night out.

He arrived home to find the house in one piece, nobody building a nuclear reactor in his garage (again), and, shockingly, dinner in the oven.

Silver threw himself at Wade the moment he was through the door (he kept waiting for the teenager to get embarrassed by him, but maybe Silver had embraced Sonic's labeling of him as uncool and skipped over that stage), hugging Wade's waist before he pulled back, eyes bright. "Did you bring me anything?"

Ah, Wade thought. That wasn't an affectionate hug - it was an opportunistic one.

"No, I didn't have time to pick anything up on the way home. I didn't promise you a treat, anyway."

"But I made dinner!" Silver protested, trailing after Wade as he pressed further into the house. "And I helped Tails with his homework, even though I don't have any."

Wade paused, turning to glance at his elder son, who was smiling hopefully, ears drooped slightly, and felt some of his earlier weariness subside in the face of Silver's (admittedly manipulative) earnestness. "Don't they give him like - unsolvable math problems to go along with his algebra?" he asked.

"His English homework," Silver clarified. "They're reading 'Huck Finn' and I had to explain what happened in 'Tom Sawyer' to him, and also apparently Mobius didn't have slavery so I had to explain that, too."

"Well, thanks, sweetie," Wade replied, tugging Silver into a loose one-armed hug before entering the kitchen to check on dinner. Silver, despite boasting he'd handled dinner, hung back when Wade opened the oven.

"So I think I deserve a treat," Silver continued.

"What sort of treat? You've got Halloween coming up, and people still think you're cute enough to go trick-or-treating."

"There's a new Mario game coming out-"

"Alright," Wade agreed, earning a delighted full-body shiver before Silver bolted off toward Tails' room, presumably to share the news. Wade then pulled open the refrigerator to see what they had in vegetables, because the boys had somehow omitted that part of dinner in their preparation.

He ran through vague memories of conversations with Tails, hoping to get some idea what Tails might try to guilt him into buying since Silver was getting a present.

(Technically Tails wouldn't do anything as obvious as tell Wade that he should get a present if Silver was. He'd picked up subtlety from somewhere - no one Wade knew, certainly - and would merely comment how much he was struggling with his projects, what one tool or device would make all the difference in the world, until Wade gave in. Silver's puppy-dog eyes Wade could resist, but Tails' endless lamentations about how a power sander was the only thing standing between him and some sort of drug habit he couldn't.)

And then of course there was the new alien at school.

Tom was right there had to be an adult taking care of them, because he couldn't imagine how else a kid would get enrolled, but that only raised more questions.

"Dad Dad Dad Dad!" Silver landed at the edge of the kitchen tile, almost vibrating in excitement. "Tails said there's a new kid in his school, and he actually talked to him! He's from Mobius and his name's Charmy and his dad's a detective like Sherlock Holmes! Isn't that cool?"

"I suppose," Wade agreed mildly.

"You wouldn't get it," Silver declared after a moment. "But Sherlock Holmes is awesome."

Wade rolled his eyes. "You're aware those books are over a hundred years old? I read them when I was in college."

"Yeah, but there's a cartoon Sherlock Holmes where he's a dog."

"Hm," Wade replied, which was usually good enough of a reply to encourage Silver or Tails to keep going (Tails didn't even need a reply, but it helped reminding him occasionally there was someone else in the room).

"I bet if I met him I could convince him to let me be his sidekick - like Batman and Robin."

"Not until your homework's done."

"Dad, I told you I don't have any homework!"

"Well, this weekend you can be Batman and Robin. Next weekend you need to get your homework done first."

Silver huffed and stalked off toward the couch, apparently done with Wade intruding on his fantasies of being a world-famous detective with reality. It thankfully gave Wade a minute to wonder about Charmy and his dad, who he was going to assume was the other Mobian's father, as well.

A detective? There wasn't enough in Green Hills to keep three regular police officers busy, much less a private eye. And he'd enrolled his kids in school, which meant he expected to stay (Wade would be more worried if this detective, whoever he was, was just hanging around town - there were enough secrets they were keeping from G.U.N. that they'd prefer less scrutiny rather than more).

But he wasn't going to get answers puttering around his kitchen thinking about it, so he focused on getting the rest of dinner together because thinking about it was just going to get him worked up imagining the worst-case scenario (they were advance scouts for some sort of invasion force - possibly whatever had ruined Silver's planet, was what Wade decided on being the 'worst' option).

"So how was school today?" It was the usual opener for dinner, and could reliably get at least one of his kids talking nonstop through the meal with minimal input from Wade.

"Fine," Tails replied, an oddly terse response for someone who could talk your ear off about airplanes or quantum computers given the slightest provocation.

"What did you learn about?"

Tails shrugged slightly. "Genetics." A flick of movement drew Wade's attention; two tails, braided together, tucked away behind his chair.

"Did you learn about mutants?" Silver asked, voice bright. "Our biology teacher said that my psychokinetic powers are probably the result of some sort of mutation, but most mutations are like weird coloration or extra limbs-" He broke off, snapping his mouth closed. Tails, if possible, looked smaller than usual.

"Did anyone give you trouble?" Wade pressed, but Tails shook his head.

"No, they. Asked a lot of questions." It didn't mean they hadn't given Tails trouble; Wade was familiar enough the way kids could get in your head 'just asking questions'.

"It wasn't too much, was it? I can talk to your teachers to see if they can keep kids from pestering you-"

"I'm fine," Tails said, voice a little rough. "I just-" He swiped at his face, and Wade realized he was crying - or on the verge of tears, anyway.

"Hey, Sweetie." Wade circled the table and crouched next to Tails' chair. "It's okay, whatever-"

Tails threw himself into Wade's chest - it wasn't far, but the collision was still a little more forceful than Wade was used to (Tails was definitely taller than he'd been when he first arrived on the planet, but that of course made him heavier, too). He wrapped his arms around the fox, who sniffled quietly for a few moments.

"Buddy?"

"I'm okay," Tails murmured, pushing away from Wade, wiping his eyes clear. "Really." He smiled at Wade, expression only a little shaky. "I just - bad memories, I guess."

"Alright." Wade patted Tails' back and let him go, returning to his own seat; long practice had taught him it wasn't good to push. He knew Wade was there - to listen, to care - which was more than he'd ever had on Mobius, and sometimes that seemed to be enough. "What about you, Silver? Learn anything interesting?"

"It's school," Silver retorted. "I didn't even have band today. I already told you about the new kid-"

"If he's Charmy's brother, his name's Espio," Tails said, and Silver's whole body went tense, alert; by experience, Wade guessed his tail was wagging.

"Espio? Is he cool? Dad said he might be shy and that's why he didn't talk to anyone, but Sonic says he's probably too cool for me, but Dad says-"

"What do you say?" Tails asked, bringing Silver up short. He stared at Tails for a long minute, eyes blinking slowly.

"I don't-"

"I think, if you want to be his friend, you should talk to him. It's what I did with Sonic."

"You had a reason to talk to him," Silver protested. "All that 'come with me if you want to live' junk! We don't even have anything in common; I'm not even from Mobius. Maybe if I played a cool instrument like the guitar, or the drums, but Sonic says there isn't anything cool about the clarinet."

"Okay, I think maybe we should lay off taking what Sonic says about Earth culture as gospel," Wade interrupted. "Tails is right. You can just say hi - maybe offer to show him around. You might not have been here as long as Sonic, but you know Green Hills."

Silver hummed, clearly not completely convinced, but he didn't argue that Sonic would think it was a bad idea, which was progress.

Which was fine, because negotiating against what Sonic had picked up from teen movies watched through other people's windows wasn't a fight he could afford, if he and Tom and Malcolm were going to have to deal with three Mobians they knew nothing about (except that Charmy and Espio's dad was a private detective, that Espio was quiet enough Silver hesitated to approach him and Charmy was talkative enough that Tails could rattle off facts about him). He'd prefer having answers before Walters showed up to remind them he was always watching (luckily he had other aliens to worry about - not ones that were more dangerous, but were at least making more trouble than the Whipples and the Wachowskis - and meetings in Washington to keep him busy, but he still popped up enough it was an annoyance, a constant niggling worry).

But Tom was going to look into it, which officially made it Not Wade's Problem.

At least until Tom left to check out the school, leaving Wade in charge, and an alligator walked into the station.

…well, a Mobian alligator, which meant that he was walking on two feet, wearing heavy black boots, a trench coat like out of Dick Tracy, and wearing a gold chain around his neck, which didn't make Wade forget the elongated mouth and (presumably) incredible bite strength, but meant he'd probably get some warning before the alligator used either.

The alligator had a hat in his hand, like he'd-

Wade had a flash of memory of watching some old black-and-white movie where the guys all wore those hats and took them off the second they got indoors, and wondered if the Mobian were just copying movies (Mobians didn't, as a rule, wear a lot of clothing, except for gloves and shoes, but the kids who'd been here a while had gotten used to them, so it didn't seem surprising that a newcomer might do the same - he had on a pair of tan slacks and a white shirt under the coat, giving the appearance of someone like Columbo, if Columbo had been an alligator).

"Can I help you?" Wade asked, because with Tom gone, he was in charge, and Malcolm 'didn't help'.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Figured I should check in with the cops - you get itchy trigger fingers around unexpected Mobians."

"We're a little more comfortable with aliens around here," Wade replied.

"Well, there's comfortable, and there's comfortable," the alligator replied with a shrug. "Been places I was - welcome, but I wasn't welcome, y'know?"

"Here, or Mobius?" Wade asked, before he shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Anyway, we're a little different from some other towns. My kids are both aliens, and Tom - the Sheriff - has two kids, himself. There's - well, Knuckles is sort of his own person, but some of our more outdoorsy types have been keeping an eye out for him."

"A regular Mobian Mecca, huh?" the alligator replied. "I'm Vector, by the way." He held out a gloved hand, which Wade took automatically to shake.

"Wade Whipple. Deputy Sheriff."

"So it's you, the Sheriff, and-" Vector jerked a thumb toward Malcolm.

"Malcolm, yeah," Wade agreed. "Say, you wanna grab - we haven't had a half-decent coffee place since the terrorists that ran the Mean Bean blew themselves up, but there's a diner a few blocks away."

"Well, there's two things I've never said no to, and one of those is a free meal. Lead on!"

Deciding that Tom would want Wade to pump the newcomers for information if he could, Wade waved at Malcolm as he left, hoping the wave communicated that he was acting deputy and should actually do his job if push came to shove.

"So, uh," Vector said after a moment outside, "it gets cold around here, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess you prefer warm places. We've got this state down south - Florida - which is chock-full of alligators."

"Alligator?" Vector turned as he walked, baring his teeth (Wade was going to guess it wasn't a smile). "Where'd you get a crazy idea like that?"

"Uh - the scales? And the big mouth, that's-"

"I'm a crocodile," Vector snapped. "See? V-shaped mouth, visible teeth when my mouth's closed, and green - not grey or black."

"...Okay," Wade said, hands up. "We don't get either up here much, and reptiles haven't been either of my kids' interests. One's really into planes, and the other's a - he's got a garden out back."

"Aliens, you said," Vector said, voice calmer than it had been a moment ago.

"Yeah, Tails - he's younger, he's the one into planes. He's a genius - not the way you'll hear people talk about 'gifted' kids who have a high score on some tests, but a real genius. He's a fox. Silver - he's older, the gardener, and he's in band at school. He's a hedgehog."

"And there's - three others, right? The sheriff's and…" Vector slowed as they came to the diner. "Knuckles?"

"Yeah. So, how long have you been here?" They got a table quickly, Vector barely glancing at the menu before ordering a burger, before Wade continued the questions.

"Got in town a few days ago, Sheriff," Vector retorted. "But I get what you mean - been on the planet a few months, getting a feel for things."

"And are you really a private detective, or did Silver get things wrong?"

Vector chuckled. "No, he got that one right. We're the Chaotix Detective Agency - best detectives on Mobius."

"And you ran out of mysteries to solve there?" Wade asked, before the voice in his head that sounded like his mom informed him the question had sounded rude. "Uh - sorry, I didn't mean-"

Vector laughed - guffawed, slapping a hand on the table. "No, don't worry. I've heard worse - from people who didn't care one way or another." He shook his head, then, straightening in his seat. "We didn't run out of mysteries, exactly, but we've always loved a challenge. And Earth - humanity - I don't think there's a bigger challenge in the known universe." He was grinning, now, Wade was almost certain.

"And your kids were okay with this?"

Vector's gaze flicked to Wade - surprised, he thought. "We're Chaotix Detective Agency, Sheriff - I might be the boss, but it's not a dictatorship."

"You-" Wade skipped back through the conversation, words that didn't seem odd, and reevaluated. "Isn't one of them like - eleven?"

"And?" Vector demanded in retaliation. "Charmy likes helping with the investigation. And it's not - metalwork or heavy lifting. Most investigations are missing persons, or needing to get the right photograph. Nothing dangerous." He accepted his food when it was delivered and ate a few fries before he continued. "A kid can work at his dad's business, here, Sheriff - I checked."

Wade blinked. "So you're in Green Hills because…"

"Heard it was in a good school district - isn't that what good parents do, look for the good school districts?"

"Maybe," Wade allowed. "I've mostly just been trying my best."

"Well, a nice sheriff like you? I'm sure you're doing great," Vector said, finishing of his burger in two quick bites. He rose, patting Wade's shoulder as he passed, and was gone before Wade could say anything else.

He wasn't sure if he'd learned anything valuable, but couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about that.

Vector found Charmy and Espio sprawled on the couch when he got back to the house they were renting. Charmy was playing with one of those entertainment systems they'd bought a few weeks back, and Espio was meditating (you could tell the difference between meditating and sleeping because Espio's tail actually uncoiled when he was meditating).

"Hey hey, how was school?" Vector asked.

"Pretty good," Charmy replied, fluttering up to hover above the couch. "I met all sorts of new people, and-"

"Come on, you're on the clock, little dude," Vector said.

"Finnnne," Charmy replied. "There's one Mobian at my school - Tails Prower-Whipple. He's a fox, but he's got two tails. I heard some kids say he can use them to fly, but I don't know if I believe it."

"There's four at the high school," Espio added, opening his eyes. "But I've only seen three. I've heard rumors, though, about the fourth - if you believe half of them, he's some sort of Indian mystic…whatever that means."

"They say Knuckles is like Goku," Charmy chimed in.

"Who's Goku?" Vector asked, earning shrugs from the others. "So how about the ones you did see?"

"Silver Whipple," Espio said. "Tails' brother. He can fly, but it's because he's got telekinetic powers. I saw him carry a lunch tray without touching it."

"And he's a hedgehog," Vector recalled.

"Yeah," Espio agreed.

"How'd you know that?" Charmy demanded.

"I met the guy who's taking care of him - the deputy sheriff."

Charmy and Espio nodded, and Vector made a note to remember Silver. A telekinetic hedgehog was bound to be way more trouble than it sounded like; it was, by all accounts, a trait common to all hedgehogs, but the ones with Chaos powers were infinitely worse.

"Then there's Sonic Wachowski - his dad's the sheriff, and he was the first one here. He's really fast."

"Fast?" Vector asked. "Not as bad as telekinetic, I guess. And the other one?"

Espio sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders. "Shadow. Wachowski - he's living with the sheriff, too. He's like some sort of - local legend. I heard people say he can fly, has laser eyes, is some sort of demon-"

"Yeah, well, remember the reports we saw - there was a big kerfuffle with the Chaos Emeralds a few years back. If he got his hands on them, he could have done all of that and more. Good job, you two - getting the lay of the land's an important first step. Either of you have any luck talking to them?"

He got twin wide-eyed blinks from them before Charmy raised a hand. "Were we supposed to do that?"

"If we wanna get this job done, yeah, we gotta talk to people." Vector shook his head. "But I might be getting ahead of myself. So how about your next assignment being engaging them in conversation?"

"That might be a problem," Espio replied. "Shadow doesn't seem to talk to anybody."

"Well, try. We'll see where everything is at the end of the week. Alright?" They both nodded and Vector clapped his hands. "Then let's see about dinner."

"Hey - Vector?"

"Yeah?" Vector paused on his way to the freezer (if there was one thing Earth had over Mobius, it was the fact he could get meals frozen and ready to reheat practically everywhere, which made feeding two kids and a full-grown crocodile a lot less stress), turning back to Charmy.

"How long are we going to stay here?"

"Til the job's done, Charmy - you know that."

It had been that way for a few years already; Vector couldn't imagine why Charmy would need to ask.

Chapter Text

Wade paused when he stepped inside the sheriff's station. Malcolm - gangly, red-haired Malcolm - was grinning at him from behind his desk. Malcolm didn't grin. Malcolm didn't smile (Malcom didn't do much of anything - oh, he did his job, in a rote sort of way, but asking him to do anything earned a flat response of 'I don't').

"Hey, Mister Whipple," Malcolm said. "You've got a visitor."

"My mom isn't back there, is she?" Wade asked.

Malcolm shook his head. "Not unless there's a lot you haven't told me about your family life."

"There is a lot I haven't told you about my family life," Wade retorted on his way past Malcolm.

"Think you would have mentioned this, Deputy!"

Wade was trying to figure out how to reply to that when he rounded the corner to where his desk was and stopped mid-step when he realized exactly what Malcolm had meant.

Vector was sitting behind Wade's desk, leaning back in his chair.

He rocked the seat up when he saw Wade, grinning at him (or maybe just showing his teeth). "Hey, Sheriff! Sorry I stole your seat. I didn't read anything or nothing-" This part he added as he clambered out of the seat, crossing around to the (admittedly less-comfortable) chair on the other side, "just savoring a chair that doesn't snap under my weight because the entire rest of the planet's half my size. How you doing, Sheriff?"

"I'm the deputy," Wade corrected as he settled in his chair.

"Eh, I'm not big on hierarchy," Vector drawled. "I mean, you gotta follow the rules or people like you get on my case, but I don't worry about the whole 'who's in charge' dick-measuring contest, you know?"

Wade blinked. "Uh. Well. The buck sort of stops with Tom - Sheriff Wachowski, so that's. It's not a contest. He's better at dealing with this - the sort of stuff that happens around here, so it's for the best."

"Aww, you'd do fine, Deputy Whipple," Vector retorted. "Handling two kids? Sheriff Wachowski's got his wife to help out, but you're on your own." At Wade's startled glance, he grinned. "It's a small town, Deputy - people talk."

And he was a detective; asking questions must come second nature to him, even when people didn't talk (especially when people didn't talk). And it brought to mind, with a startled moment, something Vector had said about his job, when they'd first talked a few days ago.

'Mostly missing persons'.

Even with kids, a private investigator had to go where the work was.

"Who are you trying to find, Vector?"

"Hm?"

"Green Hills, Montana isn't exactly - you can't have much work here."

"You'd be amazed what Charmy can do with an internet search," Vector chuckled, before tapping his chin, humming. "He might be up for a raise."

"If Silver hears about that, he'll start asking for a bigger allowance."

Vector smirked at that, before winking at Wade. "Then it can be our secret, Deputy."

Vector became a regular fixture at the station over the next few weeks; Wade regularly found the crocodile waiting for him when he arrived at work - sometimes with a box of donuts, sometimes empty-handed. If he wasn't there when Wade arrived, he usually passed through at some point - Wade had spent more than a few lunches with Vector, and once, Vector had delivered a Tupperware full of fried rice, "leftovers from Charmy chipping in at home".

So Wade wasn't surprised to arrive one afternoon, close to a month after the Chaotix had arrived in Green Hills, to find Vector lounging against the side of the building.

"Tom didn't kick you out of the station, did he?" Wade asked, slightly worried at the prospect.

"Hm? Wachowski? Charmy's got his eldest wrapped around his finger - plus I tip pretty well, and that man knows what side of his bread's buttered."

Wade nodded as if he had any idea what Vector was saying. "So why are you out here?"

"Saw it was gonna be below zero the rest of the week and decided to enjoy the last couple of days before this whole state becomes colder'n a polar bear's ass for the next six months."

"Well, I've gotta get to work, so-"

Vector shoved himself off the wall to trail after Wade. "Fair enough."

"You don't have to-"

"This is a town of like a hundred people, Deputy," Vector said. "Let's say half of them are less than twenty years old, and I get enough of that at home. Two-thirds of the rest can't get over the fact I'm an alien, a reptile, or both, making for some of the worst conversations I've had in my life. That leaves like five people I can bear to talk to for more than five minutes straight, and you keep buying me lunch."

"You brought us donuts-"

"Oh my gosh I'm not hanging out with you because you're feeding me, Deputy. You're interesting - and there aren't a lot of guys around here who can properly commiserate about wrangling two kids on their own."

It made sense, hearing it like that, so he gave Vector a hopeful smile as they stepped inside. "I haven't really had any other friends who were - single parents, either."

Vector scowled briefly. "Don't call me that. I'm - not a parent, some kid's dad."

"You've got two kids," Wade pointed out.

"I'm twenty…ish, Deputy - that's too young to be a father of two."

Wade, who was a few months away from forty and felt the same way, considered saying something about it. But he had no idea if it would help.

"It's not like I don't want them around - Espio's a great kid, and Charmy's such a - he really keeps the mood up. Just, you know…" Vector dropped into the chair opposite Wade's at his desk before letting his head fall back with a groan.

"It's a lot?"

"Of course it's a lot," Vector retorted. "You've got two, yourself - and one of them's a hedgehog."

Wade blinked, staring at the crocodile sprawled out across from him, before Vector's words hit him. "What's that have to do with anything?"

Vector raised his head, squinting curiously at Wade. "Your boss adopted two hedgehogs, you've got one yourself, and you don't know? Wachowski, maybe, I'd understand - his kids can't get up to anything without being juiced up with a Chaos Emerald, but yours is psychic."

Wade shook his head slightly. "He's - we figured that's a thing that can happen, like, one in a million-"

"For the rest of us, sure," Vector agreed, "but hedgehogs? It's more like - one in ten. Maybe higher."

"Silver's a good kid," Wade replied, feeling a little tense - defensive, he realized. "He doesn't hurt anyone, and he's got control of his powers."

"Yeah, and that's parenting. Espio's a good kid, but I needed to lay down the rules about keeping his throwing stars around the house. I love Charmy, but he has ten times my energy." Vector let his head fall back again. "At least your youngest can be convinced to stay in one place."

Wade snorted rather than explain to Vector how, exactly, dealing with Tails could be exhausting.

"What?"

"It's nothing." An odd thought occurred to Wade, then; he gave it a moment to make sure no immediate problems occurred to him before adding, "You could all come over some night. I've got a lot of practice keeping us from starving - I could make…whatever."

"Ah - couldn't do that to you, Deputy." Vector shook his head. "I might not be sticking around just because you fed me, but the kids are a completely different story. Besides, I'm something of a terror to have at the table."

Wade shrugged to conceal the sting of rejection. "It was just a suggestion," he replied.

Across the way, Vector's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. "It was, yeah. On the other hand, I'd be remiss if I passed up an offer of free food - if you're really willing to take on the bottomless pit that's the Chaotix Detective Agency."

Silver was surprisingly elated by the prospect of having Vector and his kids over.

"Don't you see Espio enough at school?" he asked after five minutes of raving from Silver about how excited he was.

Silver's ears twitched before drooping as he shrank back in his seat. "Uh…"

"He's scared of Espio," Tails said from the other side of the table.

"Miles!" Silver hissed, ducking toward Tails.

"Argentum," Tails retorted, sticking his tongue out at Silver. "Espio got in a huge fight his first week, so everyone started keeping their distance."

Wade blinked, trying to match that fact with the stories Vector told about Espio. "A fight?"

"It was just with Patrick Goode and Randall Patterson," Tails continued, "so they probably deserved it."

"It wasn't a fight," Silver protested at last. "Randall tried to punch Espio and he kept dodging, even when Pat joined in. I didn't even-" He shook his head vigorously. "And I'm not avoiding him. I just don't want to say the wrong thing."

"He's not going to hit you," Tails pointed out. "Unless you try to actually fight him."

"Yeah, I - Vector says Espio's a good kid, I wouldn't be inviting them over otherwise. I'm sure if you just say hi, he'll be happy to be your friend."

"Hm," Silver replied, and was quiet for a few minutes. During the relative silence, Wade caught a few glances between Silver and Tails, which worried him a little. They didn't - not get along, but they were different enough they didn't hang out often, much less team up. They got chummy around holidays, usually, or when something big was coming out they were both excited about, but Halloween had come and gone, leaving him with no idea what the silent communication was about.

"Dad?" Tails asked after a few minutes. "Is there a reason you're having Vector over?"

"We're friends - and I thought you two would like spending time with his kids. Why?" Wade let out a quick huff. "If you don't - if you're uncomfortable with him, we don't have to have him over-"

"No, it's fine!" Silver blurted. "Right?"

Tails' eyes flicked toward Silver before he smiled at Wade. "Yeah, it's no problem. We just - haven't met a lot of your friends."

"You've met Tom and Maddie," Wade pointed out.

"He's your boss," Tails retorted.

"You don't think Perry at Maddie's office is your friend, do you?" Silver demanded.

"Okay, fine, so I don't have that many friends," Wade muttered, jabbing a fork at his food. "I thought it might be nice to have him and his kids over - especially since you can't work up the nerve to even talk to Espio."

"It's really okay," Tails insisted. "We were just - surprised."

"Vector's really cool!" Silver insisted. "Some kids overheard him telling Alessandra at the grocery store that one time they were paid to track down an evil dictator who turned out to be pretending to be a chef, and he told some other people about this time they found a missing princess."

"So you're a fan."

"I…" Silver flushed, ducking to focus on his food. "It's cool, is all."

"Alright."

"Sonic wants to be a superhero," Silver continued. "But I think it's way cooler to be the guy people come to for help."

"Like Sherlock Holmes," Wade concluded. "Well, you can ask Vector all the questions you want when he's visiting."

Whatever Silver's plan, he abandoned it less than five minutes after the Chaotix arrived. Wade was roughly halfway through making dinner when the doorbell rang, so he called out to Silver to get it. He therefore had something of a front row seat to Silver opening to door, coming face-to-face with Espio, and freezing.

"Hey, Deputy!" Vector waved at Wade from behind Espio, a good foot above both kids' heads. "You mind if we come in?" he asked Silver, who stepped aside, still quiet, to let Vector, Espio, and Charmy (flying at around shoulder-height) in. "You're Silver, right?" he asked as Silver closed the door behind them. "I'm guessing you recognize Espio, here, and this is Charmy. I'm Vector, of course - I'm the boss of this little bunch."

"...Nice to meet you," Silver murmured.

"Do you have Mario Kart?" Charmy demanded, swooping around Silver. "Vector said if we came over here, we could play Mario Kart, but more of us can play at once if you've got it, too."

"...yeah," Silver replied slowly. "We've got a TV over here, and a Switch with Mario Kart and some other great games. Tails! We've got company!"

Wade winced, deciding not to turn this into a repeat of the 'no yelling in the house' discussion. Vector, though, chuckled as he stepped into the kitchen.

"You can have as many rules as you want, but the second they've got friends over, they go straight out the window, right?"

"I don't know why I bother, sometimes," Wade sighed.

"I got plenty of rules about how we run the agency," Vector replied, leaning back against the counter, gaze settling on Wade as he worked on dinner. "You think Charmy can remember half of 'em? Doesn't mean I give up on reminding him about 'em."

Wade shook his head, bemused. "Weren't you the one telling me you were too young to be a dad? Twenty-ish?"

"...More like twenty-something," Vector amended, before crossing to the refrigerator. "You got anything to drink in here?"

"You tell me how old you actually are, and I can let you have a beer," Wade replied.

"You drive a hard bargain, Deputy," Vector grumbled, before continuing. "...Twenty-nine."

"See, that isn't so bad!" Wade replied, walking around Vector to fetch two beers, handing one to the crocodile. "Now give me a second to find-"

Vector pulled the cap free of his bottle with a 'pop', which left Wade staring a minute before handing over his own bottle for Vector to open, which he did silently.

"So - is this gonna be any good?" Vector asked, waving a hand at the pots on the stove.

"It's macaroni and cheese," Wade replied, and when Vector just tilted his head at Wade, shook his head. "You've never had macaroni and cheese?"

"Can't say I have."

"Well I was pretty good at macaroni and cheese before I adopted the boys, and then I got some practice putting stuff in it so they get all their vitamins."

Vector stepped closer to peer into the pots, sniffing (if he was anything like Silver and Tails, his sense of smell was way better than Wade's). "I smell bacon," he said.

"Vitamins and bacon," Wade amended, stepping back in to stir the macaroni, nudging Vector with his elbow when he needed a free path to the fridge to get the butter. "So…twenty-nine isn't what I'd call ancient. Or too young to have kids - though a 15-year-old's pushing it. Do things work differently over there?"

"Mobius?" Vector asked. "Nah - just…self-conscious, I guess. A single guy with two kids, probably not related to him? It's like - what's his story? Back home I was more like - an older brother, but over here you've got all this…paperwork and shit."

"Yeah," Wade agreed, remembering the forms he'd had to fill out, and then fill out again, and again, to get everything sorted out. "Do you know - what sort of forms you-"

"They wanted to give me a work visa, but I told those chuckleheads we're the best private investigators on either planet, so we scored what you call 'green cards'." Vector clicked his tongue; Wade found himself impressed. He'd never heard of someone bullying the U.S. government into giving them green cards, but it was pretty clear that talking was how Vector made his living.

"Dinner's about ready - you can see if you can drag the kids away from the TV," Wade announced.

Food was, it seemed the only thing that could get them away from the game. Silver then spent most of the meal describing the two races they'd managed to have, lamenting Espio's incredible reflexes ("he's like a ninja, Dad"), while Charmy and Tails bantered back and forth about a show Wade hadn't heard about.

It was nice, he realized. He was used to moderating dinner (not that the boys didn't get along, just that an 11-year-old supergenius mechanic and a 15-year-old psychic who liked gardening and drama didn't have a lot to talk about), so having kids who - sort of managed themselves - was relaxing.

After dinner, the kids crowded onto the couch, returning to their game, and Wade dropped into his normal chair, waving at Vector to sit on the remaining one.

"You know, my son thinks you're the coolest," Wade said.

"Huh?"

"Sherlock Holmes - you ever hear of him?" At Vector's head shake, Wade explained. "He's a detective like you - except he doesn't have two kids, he's got this doctor who follows him around. He's got these amazing powers of deduction, and - well, Silver ranks you right up there with him."

"Huh," Vector replied. "Can't say I'm this brilliant deductor, but I'll take the vote of confidence." After a moment, he gently kicked Wade's ankle. "What about you? If I'm this Sherlock Holmes, you've gotta be up there, too."

"Ah," Wade replied, hesitant to finding the conversation heading this direction. "I'm not…a great deductor, either. I'm not a good cop, either, really. Tom's the one who stays in touch with everybody to help out around town. He stays on top of the paperwork, and all the procedures and junk. I'm just - there." He sank back into his seat. "Wade Whipple, Deputy Sheriff. Maybe not even that, if Malcolm decides to apply himself."

"Come on, Deputy," Vector replied, with another kick to Wade's leg. "You're more'n that. You've made me feel awful welcome in Green Hills."

"I could quit and start the Green Hills Chamber of Commerce," Wade muttered, flashing his teeth at Vector in what he hoped came across as a smile, a sort of joke.

"If you want," Vector retorted with a shrug.

Wade glanced at the crocodile, who had let his gaze settle on the TV screen, where Donkey Kong was being attacked by a giant blue spiked shell. He bit his lip, wondering if Vector was toying with him, or really thought-

"Do you - is this what you want to do?" Wade asked. "Hunting down - missing persons and - and-"

"You're wondering how much of my time's spent tracking down people having affairs, right?" Vector asked.

"No," Wade protested, shaking his head. "Just…"

"It's not all happy, Deputy, but sometimes people get lost, and it's nice - bringing them back together."

"And you never…" Wade paused, searching for the words he wanted. "Regret? Finding people?"

Vector glanced at the boys and then back at Wade before he sat up, drawing a little closer. "Look, sometimes…yeah. I find someone who doesn't want to be found. And you get a feel for these things. Whether emotions got high and someone - forgot they'd be welcome back home…or if they should just disappear."

"And you do that?" Wade asked. "Let them disappear?"

"What? Would your Sherlock Holmes disapprove?" Vector demanded.

"No - in fact, he does stuff like that all the time," Wade explained. "He's - it sounds like you've really got things figured out. Enjoy it."

"Yeah, I do," Vector agreed, before he glanced back at Wade. "You don't?"

"I don't know." Wade shrugged, feeling - well, not less uncomfortable, but at least glad Vector wasn't making fun or him. "Sheriff Wachowski - Tom's dad - was this really…everyone in town respected him, you know? And Tom decided to follow in his footsteps. And I…I guess I tried to do the same thing. But he's - Tom, and I'm - Wade...you know?"

"Not in the slightest," Vector said with a shake of his head. "But you could keep going if you want."

Wade didn't want to, but it was also the first time he'd started talking about this and hadn't gotten cut off. He took a breath, finding it shakier than he'd expected. "I tried to be - the guy around town who's always willing to lend a hand. I thought - maybe people would respect me. But they…don't." He shrugged. "Say la vie, or whatever."

Vector was frowning, and Wade worried for a moment he'd - gotten too real.

But then the crocodile shook his head and stood, vanishing into the kitchen to return a few moments later with a pair of beers, handing one to Wade.

"I'm not joking," Vector added after Wade thanked him. "I wasn't really sure what I'd find here, but you and Tom have been really nice to us. Your G.U.N. wasn't half as friendly as you are."

"Don't tell me you talked to Walters."

"Naw - it was this blonde lady - Agent Topaz, she said her name was. Still. She didn't buy me lunch."

"She must have known how much you eat," Wade retorted, earning a snort from Vector before silence settled between them. "I didn't mean I'm - that I resent treating you to meals," Wade said, once he'd realized the silence had gone on a little too long. "I wanted to get to know you."

"Yeah, I know," Vector replied, grinning, before tapping his forehead. "I'm an excellent judge of character - remember, Deputy?"

"I'm not."

"Sure you are!" Vector kicked Wade's ankle again. "You started hanging out with me, and your kid's imprinted on Espio, which is clearly a sign of your influence."

"Fine," Wade relented, waving Vector away before he decided on something drastic like a hug. "I've got great instincts."

"Doesn't mean you need to be a cop, Deputy, if you don't wanna be," Vector added.

"What would I-"

"No idea, Deputy - Wade. I gotta friend back on Mobius who writes. Or - you said this town doesn't have a half-decent coffee place."

"Do you know what happened to the last place?" Wade demanded. "It got shut down by the Department of Homeland Security because a terrorist staged some sort of hostile takeover. They were using it as like some sort of base of operations, and I actually got held hostage by the guy's partner."

Vector opened his mouth before snapping it closed with a quick shake of his head. "Sounds like a lot," he said.

"And there wasn't even - no one cared. I found an official transcript of the incident from G.U.N., and I was just some idiot who got wrapped up in Robotnik's schemes. Just a - laughingstock, the village idiot."

"Well, Green Hill's lucky, then, that their village idiot's such a smart fellow."

Wade huffed, flattered despite himself. "I'm not that smart."

"Street-smart, I guess you'd call it," Vector corrected. "Come on, Deputy - you gotta have some idea of what you want."

Wade shrugged. "I hadn't really given it much thought." And he hadn't - except for a vague sense of dissatisfaction, he hadn't imagined what he could do aside from police work. The suggestion he take over the storefront that once housed the Mean Bean was almost-

He remembered seeing the baristas at the Mean Bean (there had been others, besides Stone, Robotnik's lackey, but in Wade's memory, Stone was always working there) bustling around the shop. It had always looked frantic, but at least it was easy to know what to do when someone wanted a venti half-caf latte, at least when compared to what to do when someone was going two miles over the speed limit.

"Well, do it," Vector replied, "and tell me when you've got an idea so I can help you out."

"Help - really?" It was probably the second beer, but Wade relished the odd warm feeling in his stomach at Vector's offer.

"Sure - I always aim to look out for my friends, Deputy."

'Pathetic.'

Shadow growled, shaking his head; the television continued its promise of 'breaking news' later in the day.

"What's the matter?" Charmy asked.

"This," Shadow grumbled, waving at the screen. "They spend all day talking about the breaking news and it's the same stories every day. The government wants to take your money, you need to be scared of this or that group of people, and all your problems are really the fault of some people who are just slightly more poor and miserable than you are."

Charmy blinked at Shadow, quiet, head tilted, and Shadow realized he probably shouldn't be saying stuff like that to an eleven-year-old.

"Uh, I mean-"

"Vector gets mad at stuff like that, too," Charmy said, kicking a leg aimlessly. "People go missing all the time, but a lot of them never even get answers unless they can afford to pay someone like us. Sometimes…he takes jobs when people can't pay that much."

'Soft-hearted. Weak.'

Shadow winced at the thought, aware it was unkind. He would have been thankful if someone had been able to give him some straight answers about Maria; G.U.N. apparently didn't even know where she was buried.

"Are you alright?" Charmy asked. "If you have a headache, they've got a pill which is basically sallow powder."

Shadow rubbed his forehead; he could feel the tension there, which he knew would build into a headache if he left it too long. On the other hand, they hadn't yet found a painkiller on Earth that worked on him. "It's fine - does your dad have any coffee around?"

"My - oh, yeah. It's the kitchen. I can get it for you!" Charmy hopped off the couch and buzzed into the kitchen, returning a moment later with what turned out to be instant coffee crystals - not nearly as good as beans, but at least they crunched between his teeth satisfyingly.

"That's not how Vector drinks coffee," Charmy said after Shadow tipped out a second handful of crystals.

"It's not how you should, either," Shadow replied. "I'm…different from you and Vector."

"I know that - you're a hedgehog, and I'm a bee, and he's a crocodile."

"I mean I'm different from other Mobians," Shadow clarified. "I'm a hybrid."

Charmy's face crinkled in confusion. "Hybrid?"

"I'm part Mobian, part…something else."

"Part what?"

"That's the mystery," Shadow replied. "My - Doctor Wachowski is pretty sure it isn't human, but beyond that," he shrugged, resigning himself to dealing with this topic until Charmy got bored of it.

"Huh. Sonic's your brother - does that mean he's a hybrid too?"

"No, he's - a real hedgehog."

'You're better than a hedgehog.' Shadow squeezed his eyes closed to banish the thought.

"So how are you part-something and Sonic isn't?"

"...I'm adopted," Shadow replied. "The Wachowskis asked me to stay with them after - they found me." He squinted at Charmy. "You know what adoption is, right?" He was…vaguely aware it was possible Charmy could be Vector's biological son, but didn't want to be the first one to raise the possibility Charmy was adopted.

"Yeah, Vector had to do that when we came to Earth because I'm too young to be part of a private investigation agency here." Charmy frowned again. "Apparently I'm supposed to listen to him because he's my dad, but he's the same guy he was back on Mobius!"

"...You didn't listen to him back on Mobius?"

"Sure I did - when I didn't forget what he told me or I didn't have a better idea or get distracted," Charmy replied with a shrug. "But everyone acts like I'm supposed to, but sometimes Espio's got better ideas than Vector. How about you?"

Shadow's first thought was-

The Ark. Being confined to the lab, not allowed to touch anything. Later, when he was allowed to accompany Maria, a host of rules he had to repeat whenever Doctor Robotnik asked. He hadn't had the luxury of 'forgetting' them.

'They taught you well.'

The second, shaking off the odd, intrusive thought, was about the Wachowskis, who set down rules that…were more what you'd call guidelines than actual rules (the phrase was lodged in Shadow's mind due to too many 'pirate movie weekends' with Sonic). Oh, there were punishments for breaking the rules, but there was something softer about the lines (he hadn't discovered that himself, but through Sonic, who was cavalier about so many of the rules, had taught Shadow through example that the consequences were not so dire as what Shadow had experienced on the Ark).

"I follow the rules," he said.

"Well, you're old, of course you do," Charmy replied, rolling his eyes as he finally dropped back down to the couch. He was quiet for exactly one second before continuing. "Did you grow up on Mobius?"

"No, I'm from-" The automatic response that he was from Earth stuck in Shadow's throat. "Around here." After a few disastrous conversations, he'd found two ways to make this conversation go, and he usually only had a split-second to pick, or the person he was talking to got to choose. "I was brought in to be a girl's - service animal, I guess."

"Ooh! Do I know her?"

"No," Shadow replied. "She was sick, and now she's…gone."

"...Oh." Charmy settled slightly, gaze dropping to his feet as silence fell around them. "Well I'm sure she thought you were a great service animal."

"I'd like to think so, too," Shadow agreed.

"After everything, you haven't seen Doctor Robotnik, have you?"

Shadow's blood went to ice, his heart jittering. "What?"

"Vector said you helped stop a guy called Doctor Robotnik from hurting a lot of people, but that people like that don't give up easy. I just thought-"

Shadow remembered fighting with the man, trying to keep him from laying his hands on even one of the Chaos Emeralds, remembered the slow realization that Robotnik wasn't going to stop, and doing something stupid.

He remembered seeing the doctor's shocked face.

He remembered falling.

He remembered Maddie's voice, gentle, not intended for his ears, saying, "I hadn't thought anyone could survive that."

"He's gone, too," Shadow replied. Something in his voice made Charmy shrink back before dropping the topic, at last.

The thought stayed with him until Vector returned home, releasing Shadow from service, and Shadow decided to walk home instead of his usual Chaos Control. It was depressing, sometimes - Gerald had had such big dreams, and his legacy was now just a dead granddaughter and a grandson who'd been shoved out of an airlock by a hedgehog.

'You could do big things,' the rough voice in his head informed him, and Shadow…paused.

It had been a while since he had considered himself part of Gerald Robotnik's legacy, infuriated how the man, and Ivo, had tried to pervert Maria's memory to make Shadow into their weapon.

But he'd always been meant to be…something. The Ultimate Lifeform - you didn't create something like that without wanting more for it than to be your granddaughter's medical aide. There was no real point in wondering, though - whatever of Gerald's records had survived the Ark Disaster, and the subsequent Ark Crisis, were with G.U.N., and they weren't big on sharing.

And Shadow was a Wachowski, now - there was paperwork to attest to that - and that meant Gerald's dreams for him didn't have to mean anything.

'You're forgetting your other family,' Shadow's mind grumbled at him.

"Well, when they decide to show up and let me know what that other half of me is, I can tell them to fuck off then," Shadow snarled to the woods between Vector's rented house and home.

…Because he was sick of thinking about legacies forced on him by the people he'd never asked to make him a freak that wouldn't have a place on Earth or Mobius if the Wachowskis hadn't taken him in.

Chapter Text

Wade tabbed away from his browser when the front door to the station opened, and by the time Tom rounded the filing cabinets, was typing away at his weekly reports. Tom stared at Wade for a long moment before he scoffed.

"Okay, what were you up to before I got in here?" he asked.

"I'm doing reports," Wade replied, waving at his computer. "You said I need to get these done every week-"

"Come on, I'm not going to judge. Unless it's porn - however worked up you might get having no privacy at home, this isn't the place."

"Its not porn," Wade sputtered. "I'm not even-" He broke off rather than delve too deep into that conversation. "I've been looking at ideas for Christmas presents."

"For the boys?" Tom asked. "I would have thought Tails would have given you a list, and Silver has probably told you every time he's seen something he wants over the past six months."

"The boys are set," Wade replied. "I'm thinking of getting something for Vector."

"Mobians don't even celebrate Christmas."

"So you're not getting Sonic anything?" Wade retorted.

"Lord, the whining if we even suggested something like that," Tom groaned, settling down across from Wade. "Fine."

"Besides, I think Vector and Charmy would believe anything if they got presents every year out of it," Wade added, earning a snicker from Tom.

"Alright, alright. So what're you getting him?"

"I've got no idea," Wade confessed, the same anxiety that had plagued him over the last few weeks winding up his chest.

"A gold-plated magnifying glass," Tom suggested. "A coat. Some sort of dried meat of the month club membership."

Wade grimaced at his computer screen, currently showing the report he was pretending to be writing instead of the mostly useless searches he'd run on Etsy. "Thanks for the ideas, but I don't think Vector would like any of those."

"He'd love a meat-of-the-month club," Tom protested. "And every time I see the two of you here he's complaining about how cold he is."

Wade shrugged, finally giving in and pulling the Etsy page back up, before closing it out and typing random words on Ebay.

"Wade, I don't say this often, but you are overthinking this. He'll love whatever you get him."

Wade scoffed. "I don't know what you talk to him about when I'm not here, but he's not just going to-"

"No, hold on," Tom interrupted, holding a hand up when Wade looked at him. "What did you just say?"

"I'm saying Vector's got opinions, and he may look easy-going, but if he doesn't like it-"

"No before that," Tom clarified. "About when I'm not here."

"I'm just saying I don't know how much you talk when I'm not around-"

"What makes you think I'm talking with him when you're not around?"

"Because he spends most of his time here," Wade replied. But Tom just stared in response, silent; Wade felt an odd self-consciousness crawl through his stomach. "Tom?"

And then Tom shook his head, strange blank expression replaced with a smile.

"Tom?"

"He isn't here all the time, Wade," Tom said as he stood, turning to head back to his desk. "He's here when you are."

"Uh," Wade replied.

"I'm surprised he isn't here now," Tom continued.

"Espio's trying out basketball and they've got a game today," Wade replied, before realizing it sounded like an explanation, instead of him just knowing what Vector was up to.

"You could have gone."

"I'm not much for team sports," Wade replied. "I mean, if Espio were my kid, sure - you remember when Tails wanted to do Little League because Sonic did. But I do better with science fairs and amateur stage productions."

Tom shrugged. "I'm not saying you'd be there for the sick dunks or anything." He mimed a basketball shot and grinned at Wade. "I'm saying you could explain the rules to Vector, share a bucket of nachos." Wade blinked. "Make an evening of it."

Wade squinted at Tom, pretty sure he knew where this was going, but…hoping it wasn't. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, don't make me say it," Tom drawled. When Wade didn't reply, he ran a hand along his forehead. "Like a date."

"I'm not dating Vector, Tom."

"I know that!" At Wade's glance, Tom smiled gently. "It's a small town, Wade. I'm just saying you could."

"I really couldn't," Wade replied, biting back a sigh, because he didn't have to have this conversation, but he'd rather have it now than head off these conversations for the rest of his life. "I'm not interested, Tom. Not in Vector, not in Rachel, when your wife was trying to set us up, and not in Perry."

Tom paused, glancing at Wade, eyebrows raised. "Who tried to set you up with Doc?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm just saying - high school, college, I worked this all out, Tom. I'm not interested. In dating, sex, any of that. I've got two kids, some friends, maybe I'll give in and get them a dog."

"Mine want a cat," Tom muttered. "Shadow," he clarified. "Anyway, that's. Uh. A lot. I. Guess you won't be asking him out, then."

"No." Wade let the quiet sit for a minute before he added, "Was that an option? Dating Vector, I mean."

"I mean, I can't say for sure." Tom gave another shrug. "What do I know about signals back on Mobius? But from an Earth standard - yeah, I'm pretty sure he'd be open to it." After a moment, he added, "Which was all a roundabout way of saying I'm pretty sure he'd be happy with anything, from you. It's the thought that counts, and all that jazz."

"Is that how it works with you and Maddie?"

Tom's gaze narrowed slightly. "Well, no, but my relationship with Maddie isn't the sort of relationship you want with Vector…right?"

"Yeah," Wade agreed. "I just - I don't know, he deserves better than a - scarf I got off of Lands End." He ran a hand through his hair, finding it didn't soothe his nerves. "He's a good guy, Tom - my friend."

"If I recall correctly, you got me a gift certificate for Christmas last year," Tom said.

"Yeah, but to Charlie's in Emerald Coast, not Olive Garden," Wade retorted, before his chest squeezed anxiously. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No, I'm - get him anything, Wade. He's your friend - he's not going to be pissed if you don't get the perfect gift, which, spoiler, doesn't exist, even when you've known them for years. I can promise you, nothing you get him would make him - what - pack up and head back to Mobius?"

"A crocodile-skin handbag," Wade said; when he looked up, Tom was staring, mouth hanging open. "What? You said you couldn't think of anything-"

"Well, you've clearly got a better imagination than me," Tom muttered. "Alright, maybe not that."

Wade didn't make a decision that day, but was ready by the time Christmas rolled around. He had the morning off, and had invited Vector and his boys over to help celebrate. Silver was supervising Wade's preparation of breakfast (he could be persuaded to help mix things, but was mostly there to make sure the place didn't burn down and sample any ingredients that appealed to him), and Tails was still asleep, suggesting he'd been up all night working on some project.

So when the doorbell rang, Silver flung himself off the stool he was sitting on with a cry of "I got it!" Swooping around the furniture and tree, he yanked the door open. "Hey! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, sure, now let us in," Vector replied; a moment later, Charmy hovering in the lead, the three of them trundled into the house. They were all bundled up, and with the exception of Vector and his snout, nearly impossible to identify as Mobians. Vector was carrying a pile of boxes in his arms (Wade briefly imagined Vector agonizing about what to get him, but dismissed it as unlikely).

Charmy threw off his coat and hat; Espio caught both of them, turning to hang them up by the door along with his own coat before taking the packages from Vector and delivering them to the pile under the tree. Vector took a minute shedding his extra layers, winding past where the boys had settled on the couch, admiring the tree (and presents underneath it) to join Wade in the kitchen.

Wade passed him a cup of coffee. Vector wrapped his hands around the cup gratefully before sniffing at it. "What am I looking at here?"

"My mom used to mix spices in to everyone's coffee, hot chocolate, around the holidays," Wade replied. "Sort of forgot about it until the boys' first Christmas here."

"Don't normally drink these milky syrup things you humans call coffee, but for you I'll take a shot." Vector took a sip, giving a pleased hum as he swallowed the coffee.

"I've got some hot chocolate warming, but I don't put much sugar in the coffee," Wade explained under Vector's watchful eye. The crocodile grinned at him - sudden, wide - before shouting out, "Hey, boys, Mr. Whipple's got hot chocolate!"

Wade didn't see Espio move, but he still beat Silver and Charmy to the kitchen. He had four mugs set out in front of him, and gave Wade a slight nod. He reminded Wade of Knuckles, a little, focused, serious, quiet (except that he must talk sometimes, given his increased appearance in stories Silver told about school and his time outside it). He must have had a sweet tooth, though, because he'd gotten a mug for himself as well as the others.

And he had to be psychic or something, because Tails wandered out of his room seconds after Wade finished pouring out the hot chocolate (and before Silver could encourage Charmy to hoard all of the marshmallows between the two of them).

"Can we do presents now?" Silver asked between gulps of hot chocolate.

"Breakfast first. I've got muffins in the oven-"

"They're cinnamon chocolate chip!" Silver interjected.

"And I'm making some eggs," Wade concluded.

"I'll help," Vector offered.

"No, you're - the boys know how to help-"

"They're kids - let'em relax." Vector slid past Wade, grabbing a potholder to retrieve the muffins from the oven before Wade could continue his protest. "Tell me where you've got the plates and I'll set things up for you."

"Ah - thanks." Wade watched Vector wind his way to the cabinets, tail swaying lazily, his whole body loose, relaxed. He jerked his gaze away when Vector grabbed the first plates, yanking the refrigerator open to find the eggs, milk, ham, everything he needed for breakfast. Vector kept the kids occupied, a steady stream of banter in the background, a warning to save at least one muffin for Wade, a rambling explanation of what he thought Christmas was all about to Charmy.

He wondered, despite himself, if this sort of easy partnership was how life in the Wachowski house was like.

Despite having devoured most of the muffins (one set aside from the pan on Wade's plate - Vector's doing, Wade assumed), the boys descended on the egg scramble ravenously. Vector did, too, but that was expected; Wade had treated him to enough lunches to have a handle on how much Vector could eat in one sitting.

"Between that coffee, these eggs, the muffins, and the macaroni, you could open a restaurant, Deputy," Vector said. Silver's and Tails' heads snapped up, Tails' eyes narrow, Silver's wide.

"You don't have time to run a restaurant," Tails pointed out. "You've got a job."

"And we've got a diner in town," Wade added. "I'm not going to try to put Marisola out of business."

"Alright," Vector replied with a shrug, but there was something in his expression Wade hadn't seen before. Serious, certainly. He wondered if the set in Vector's jaw was determination, the sort of expression he got when he got a lead in a case.

"We're done with breakfast," Silver announced. "Is it time for presents?"

"I need to get these plates in the dishwasher and another cup of coffee-" Wade started, only for the plates to rise off the table and slot themselves into the racks of the dishwasher; he shot Silver a look and rose to retrieve his own coffee (Silver might be able to handle dishes without a lot of collateral damage, but Wade had a strict rule about transportation of uncovered liquids).

The boys commandeered the couch, leaving the remaining chairs for Wade and Vector, although once Wade gave the go-ahead, they became something of a whirlwind, ripping boxes open with abandon. It took a few minutes for any of the boxes to make it to Wade, and when he saw it-

"Merry Christmas, Deputy," Vector offered, his smile just as wide as his earlier grin, but different somehow.

"You didn't have to-" Wade protested.

"Course I did, Deputy. You're my friend, and Tom and Malcolm agreed this is the time of year to get gifts for your friends."

"Well, if you're sure." Wade opened the box, pulling aside tissue paper to reveal a thick jacket. The material, a dark green, felt warm, and it looked sturdier than Wade's own. "Oh, wow. Where'd you get this?"

"Had to pop over to Mobius to follow up on some consultations, stock up on emergency rings, so I tracked down an old friend and got her to whip this up."

Wade blinked, uncertain how to respond. His mother knitted, so he he knew how long something like this would take (and had a sense how much it might cost to have a friend 'whip one up'). "Well, it's great. As I'm sure you can tell, staying warm during the winter is a full-time job around here. Thanks." He stood, setting the coat down on his chair. "Now, I got a present for you, too."

"Is this where I'm supposed to pretend like I don't want it?" Vector asked. "Because I've never turned down a present, and rarely a paying job, so."

"No, that's just - how I was raised," Wade replied as he fetched the box from the dwindling stack under the tree. "And like you said, we're friends." He handed the box over with a smile that felt shakier than Vector's even as Vector cheerfully tore into it with the same enthusiasm as his kids.

"Oh, cool!" Vector declared. "A handheld computer. You know, these are pretty rare back on Mobius."

"It's actually - well, it is a computer, but it's mostly for playing music," Wade explained. "I stuck some stuff I thought you might like on it, and got you some really good headphones for it - most people use earbuds, which I figured you'd find a little hard to use…"

He trailed off, worried Vector's silence was disappointed, or worse, judgmental (he'd gotten Vector a mix tape).

But then Vector grinned, lifting the headphones to slip them on. "Wow. You know, I hear kids playing their music all over the place, but I've got no idea how to figure out what's good, so it's nice to have a place to start. Thanks!"

"Yeah - no problem," Wade got out, before Charmy arrived to show off his presents. There was a debate in the background about the two games Tails and Silver had gotten from Wade, Espio adding weight to Silver's insistence they play Pokemon first by the revelation he didn't even know who Pikachu was.

Wade kept reaching out to brush his hand along the coat, marveling at it. Whoever Vector's friend was (and of course he should have realized Vector had friends back on Mobius, whatever reason he was here on Earth - not everyone was like Perry), they'd put a lot of effort into it. It made Wade feel a little inadequate, even though Vector hadn't been the one to work on the coat.

He'd been planning to drop the boys off at the Wachowskis' when he had to go to the station at lunch, but when they begged to stay and keep playing games, Vector winked at him.

"I can wrangle four of them at once, if you want, Deputy," he said. "Even keep 'em from starving, if you'd prefer 'em in one piece."

"Vector, you don't-"

"Okay, first of all," Vector started, counting on his fingers, "I've got plenty of idea what I do and don't have to do, so you can probably stop reminding me. Second, we don't do this Very Serious Solstice thing on Mobius, so you're not exactly keeping me from my big plans. Third - you have treated us to two great meals, and me to plenty of half-decent ones, so even if I don't have to, I sort of owe it to you. And lastly - we're friends, Deputy. It's part of the package, right?"

"R - right," Wade agreed. It was easier to text Tom and Maddie to let them know Vector was handling things than keep debating, so he slipped on his new coat before heading to work, and basically didn't think about anything until Tom showed up to relieve him.

"New coat?" he asked.

"Yeah - Vector had a friend send it over from Mobius."

Tom whistled.

"What?" Wade demanded, heart tripping slightly.

"A what, hand-made coat, from Mobius? You know what that's worth?"

"Yeah, I'd pay hundreds of dollars to get someone to make something like this-"

"No, thousands, Whipple," Tom corrected. "The only hand-made Mobian goods on the planet are being worn by Mobians. I wouldn't be surprised if the big fashion names are trying to find some Mobian designer they can partner with."

Wade ran a finger along the sleeve, trying to imagine someone paying thousands for what seemed to be a pretty standard winter coat.

"Not for this one…probably," Tom said. "They'd obviously fancy it up, make it with one-tenth the fabric…"

"Yeah, alright," Wade said, waving Tom away. "I gotta get home and see if Vector lived up to his promises and didn't actually burn the place down."

He'd done two better than that - the house was in one piece, the kids were fed, and were unconscious on the couch.

"How'd you manage this?" Wade asked when Vector answered the door.

"Trade secret," Vector replied. "Come on - you get Charmy and I'll get Naruto over here to the car."

"Naru…"

Vector chuckled. "Oh, didn't you know? He had some early difficulties here - kids called him a 'weeb' and 'knock-off Naruto'. There doesn't seem to be a lot of respect for ryuurekugato around here."

"Ryuu-"

"The art of invisibility, information gathering, and surprise combat."

"Oh! Like ninja."

"Yeah, heard that word got thrown around a bit."

The kids deposited in Vector's car without having stirred, much less woke, Wade tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. "What was he doing at school people figured out he's a ninja?"

"Ah, who knows?" Vector replied as they drifted back toward the front door. "Kids, you know?"

"Thanks for, uh." Wade waved at the house, paused, and then waved at his coat. "You know Tom said, about the coat-"

"Vanilla's not in the market to partner with Louis Vuitton, Deputy." When Wade didn't reply, he added, "It's a fashion brand. Not sure if there's a real guy named Louis - I've been told there was a Chef Boyardee, but not a Betty Crocker, so who knows?"

"Anyway, uh-"

"Thanks, you said," Vector said, nodding, as they neared the front door. "Look, Deputy, you might have gotten used to people not, I don't know, respecting you, but you're more than they're seeing. You're a good father, a good guy, and…" He was standing very close to Wade, now, enough to highlight he was actually slightly taller than Wade. And Wade found a part of him that usually didn't notice, usually didn't want…take notice. He lifted his chin, wondering-

"A coffee shop, maybe," Vector declared, taking a step back, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"What?"

"You don't wanna put Marisola out of a job, but there isn't a coffee shop in town, anymore. You could make muffins and little cakes to go with it. Just a thought."

"Uh."

"See you when I see you, Deputy!" Vector called, turning to head back to his car. "Thanks for the gift!"

"Yeah - thanks," Wade repeated, staring after Vector until his car was gone, and then - gave it another minute before he headed back inside. Tails was sprawled across Silver's lap, drooling into the legs of his pajama pants. Silver was flopped back, mouth open, snoring quietly.

Wade hadn't been missing anything; his family was more than enough. And he wasn't sure what he'd felt back on the porch, whether he'd wanted or just…noticed. He'd noticed before, and reacted because he thought he was supposed to. But now…

He needed advice, and wasn't remotely certain who was qualified to give it to him.

"So," Vector said when Perry stepped out of the examination room, "everything's okay?"

"Your son has a mild cold - a rhinovirus, less dangerous to Mobians than even to humans. Make sure he gets rest, fluids, and I've got an amino acid supplement tailored for the Mobian physiology we can provide you." The man - a bird of some type, by all appearances - clicked his tongue. "Don't worry - Doctor Wachowski has signed off on the formulary, as have my partners at the Roubíček Foundation."

Vector blinked at Perry. "The Ro-"

"An organization dedicated to the study of immune disorders. They are collaborating with me and Doctor Wachowski to develop a program of accreditation for diagnostics and treatment of Mobian health so the growing population of Mobians on the planet can access something approaching competent medical care."

"Huh," Vector concluded. "That's - uh, how are we sure they're on the level?"

"I did my homework, Mister Chaotix," Perry retorted, voice sharp. "Prior to our species' arrival on this planet, the Roubíček Foundation invested a great deal in combating, and all but eradicating, a virus that causes a nasty breakdown of the human immune system. Their treatments of congenital auto-immune disorders are cutting-edge - so it is quite reasonable to conclude their interest in the Mobian immune system is entirely philanthropic…for their own defense, at the very least. They have a story, here, about a race that attempted a large-scale invasion without proper infectious disease controls - a disastrous endeavor, by all accounts. They have, as I understand it, taken it as a cautionary tale when it comes to contact with extra-terrestrials."

Vector nodded, because it was usually easier to pretend like you understood what smart guys like Perry (he'd curtly clarified he lacked the necessary credentials to go by 'Doctor' Starline, so Perry would do) were saying rather than ask questions and risk an explanation that made less sense.

"So Charmy'll be fine?"

"Almost assuredly. He is resting; I gave him a mild dose of a pseodophedrine-based decongestant, which has a mild sedative effect on our physiology. I'll provide a fact sheet for how to appropriately dose commercially-available medications; my hope is eventually the credentials we build will be sufficient to grant me authority to provide prescriptions pharmacies will honor, but for now you'll have to work around the inane restrictions they put on basic treatment options. Any questions?"

"Yeah, uh - and this isn't about Charmy, I think you've been pretty clear about that. Uh. What's Deputy Whipple's deal?"

Perry stilled for a moment, and Vector hoped Perry wasn't going to laugh at him. "His…deal?" Perry asked. "I possess perhaps the second highest proficiency with the English tongue out of any Mobian on this planet, and that inquiry is complete nonsense."

Vector sighed; he'd hoped, on discovering another adult Mobian living in Green Hills, that he might be able to get some useful advice, but Perry was proving incredibly frustrating to communicate with.

…In English, at least.

'I mean - what's his deal?' Vector repeated in Mobian.

And Perry stared at him, eyes steely, before he rolled his eyes. 'I cannot say I have invested a great deal of thought in Whipple's relationships.' After a moment, he added, in English, "As near as I can tell, his family consists only of his children and parents." He turned as if to step away before pausing. "Is your interest a personal one, or a professional one, I wonder?"

"Ah - personal," Vector allowed. "I'm-"

"Uninterested," Perry snapped. "Come along - your son should be waking soon."

"Say, Doc?" Vector asked before Perry could open the door. "I found myself thinking about an old bounty I looked up just before I left Mobius - a doctoral student who was expelled from the Royal University at Knothole for unethical biological experiments. I figure - Earth might seem like an attractive place to hide out, if you've got a past like that. You ever hear of someone who might fit that description?"

"...First, a point of clarity," Perry replied in a clipped tone. "The student in question was expelled for seeking volunteers for a proposed study the ethics committee had already rejected. He was disciplined before he could secure test subjects - so no one was actually hurt. But if you found him, you would have to consider if the reward - which I imagine is minimal - is worth the cost. If you find this renegade working tirelessly to advance the joint understanding of Mobian health, under the supervision of no fewer than two government agencies and an international health nonprofit, it might do more harm than good. And you might also consider whether dragging that renegade out of the community in which he'd made his home might damage the goodwill - professional and personal - you so sorely need to complete whatever mysterious mission has brought you to this planet."

"Yeah," Vector agreed. "I figured it was something like that." He pushed past Perry into the examination room to find Charmy blinking blearily at him from the table. "Hey, buddy - how we feeling?"

"Tired," Charmy muttered, before sniffing. "But my head feels less stuffy."

"Well, that's all thanks to Doctor Starline, here. So let's thank him and let him get to the rest of his day."

"Thanks, Doctor Starline," Charmy murmured before sliding back into a drowse.

"It would behoove you to remind him I am not a doctor," Perry pointed out as Vector picked Charmy up. "For accuracy's sake, at least."

"Sure, Doc."

He expected that to be the end of it, but Perry cleared his throat a moment before Vector could leave.

"Doc?"

"Let me ask you a question, Mister Chaotix. What is it that has brought Mobius' greatest investigative mind to Green Hills? There are a few possibilities that have crossed my mind. You might be pursuing the Master Emerald - for your own, or a benefactor's profit. I assure you such an endeavor would be doomed to failure; however, you might be able to talk the other Mobians into forgiving that, presuming you survived.

"You might be looking into Green Hills' other Mobian inhabitants on behalf of the various powers that have interest in them - enemies of the echidnas, those who have an interest in Sonic, whoever destroyed Silver's homeworld. Acting as the eyes of those who would do them harm would earn you little sympathy here.

"Or you might be looking to reconnect them with their families, although given their backgrounds, I doubt it. So. Which is it?"

Vector stared at the (not) doctor for a minute, wondering how much of this Tom and Wade had worked through already.

"Your silence speaks volumes," Perry continued.

"It doesn't, really," Vector protested. "I was just startled. I…I don't want to hurt anyone here, Doc, I just can't - talk about it."

"I would have thought G.U.N. had better things to do with their money than send contractors to keep an eye on us," Perry muttered. "I can't blame them, of course - the Wachowskis alone have adopted enough firepower to conquer a small nation, Miles is my intellectual equal, and Silver…well, I've my hypotheses about his origins, but it would be best to know for certain. The wreckage of his world doesn't sound like the Black Arms' modus operandi, but you never can be sure."

"Wait, black what?" Vector demanded, anxious, as anyone would be at the mention of words like 'wrecked world'.

"Unimportant," Perry replied. "Unless it is. Regardless, worrying about it is largely unproductive without further data. But tell me at least: who is it in Green Hills that has attracted your mysterious employer's attention?"

"No one," Vector replied truthfully. "Or at least no one who should be here. Look, can you just pretend-"

"Pretend what, Mister Chaotix?" Perry asked. "I provided medical advice regarding your son. I sent you on your way."

"Thanks," Vector replied, turning back to the door.

"And Mister Chaotix?" Vector paused again, hand on the door. "Mister Whipple is greatly attached to his charges - if you were looking for a way to further endear yourself to him."

"Thanks, again."

"I haven't done anything," Perry retorted. "Just musing aloud. Now go, I've got research to complete."

Chapter Text

Wade didn't see Vector much until the third week of January. Charmy had apparently picked up a cold, and spread it to Espio and Vector in turn, so the most contact Wade had with them was texts, and dropping off some soup to make them feel better ("still think you could open a restaurant, Deputy, but a coffee shop'll do", was what Wade got in reply).

When he finally did, it was to walk into the station to find the crocodile sitting at Wade's desk, earphones tugged over his head, presumably listening to the music Wade had downloaded to the mp3 player. He paused for a moment to watch Vector bob his head along to the music, trying to capture the odd moment on Christmas when he'd felt-

Something.

The moment didn't repeat itself, so Wade ambled to his desk and rapped his knuckles on his desk to get Vector's attention.

Vector twisted his head around, giving Wade a sheepish smile (it seemed impossible, looking back several months, that Wade could tell, given that Vector's smile was mostly teeth regardless of his mood).

"Sorry, Deputy. Just sat down a minute and lost track of time."

"It's fine. At least you're using your Christmas present."

"As're you - though I suppose there's no getting around it until it warms up. Which, by the way, when can we expect that?"

"Another three or four months."

Vector groaned. "Why couldn't you live in - where's it warm around here?"

"Florida."

"You said that's where alligators live - I'd get shot by someone who thinks I'm lurking around their backyard to eat their dog. Nah, I'll stick with Montana."

Wade almost asked why Vector couldn't just choose - why he was here, in Green Hills - but couldn't bring himself to press.

"So…what's on the agenda for today?" Vector asked, leaning back in the chair.

"Manning the station," Wade replied, dropping into the seat across from Vector. "Helping out if someone needs it. The usual."

Vector didn't say it, but Wade thought it: sounds like a waste of time. And Wade knew Tom had come to believe otherwise, but Wade didn't have the instincts to figure out how to help people. He didn't even know when to ticket people for speeding (one mile per hour over the limit was too strict, but five was apparently too lenient).

He never got smiles like the one from Vector when he'd tasted Wade's Christmas coffee at work.

"Come on," Vector said, leveraging out of the chair, "let's get out of here."

"I can't. Malcolm isn't even going to be in for a few hours." Wade gave it a moment before adding, "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Cabin fever, probably. That's what you call feeling cooped up when winter's only halfway over, right?"

"Something like that," Wade agreed before biting his lip. "Look, I-"

"How about I head out and bring back lunch?" Vector said. "I probably owe you for all the lunches you've bought me."

"You don't-"

"You know what?" Vector retorted as he backed toward the door. "I do. I absolutely feel I have to, and nothing you can say will change my mind. What've you got to say to that?"

The door slammed behind him, leaving Wade in silence, except for his thoughts, which were…

It was hard to argue he wasn't attached to Vector, when he was aggressively treating Wade to lunch. It was harder to figure out if that meant he was attracted to him, when he hadn't been attracted to anyone since…ever.

(Harder still was figuring out if romantic feelings were tied up in this, given how many of the things he'd heard people say when talking about romance didn't sound too different from having a really good friend you liked having around all the time. So it was easier to just ask - if he wanted to pin Vector to a wall and-)

Wade's face grew hot; if someone else were here he was certain they'd make fun of it, but alone…well, he felt more embarrassed, somehow. It wasn't even as if he were pleasuring himself to thoughts of Vector, just…having thoughts about Vector. Which - if Vector returned before he got his thoughts under control, Wade wouldn't ever be able to meet his eyes again.

So he shoved the thought aside, even if that left him with the other thought that had been on his mind lately - his job, and Vector's suggestion that he throw it all aside to - well, the idea of setting up a coffee shop was stuck in his head, and he couldn't come up with another idea. The thought of quitting and starting up something as uncertain as a business of his own. He wouldn't even know where to start-

His phone rang, and Wade answered it without thinking.

"Wade? Baby? Is that you?" His mother's gruff voice came through the phone.

"Oh - yeah, Mom. It's my phone - who else would it be?"

"You've said Miles gets into anything electronic you leave around," his father, voice smoother, more even, chimed in. "So he could have picked up."

"He's got his own stuff to work on, and he knows to leave other people's belongings alone, now," Wade protested. "And he prefers to be called Tails - I've told you that."

"But Miles is such a nice name," Wade's mom continued. "Don't you agree, Logan?"

"If the boy wants us to call him Tails, we call him Tails, Mildred," Wade's father grumbled in reply. "So how are the boys? You said Silver's taken up acting?"

"Sort of," Wade replied. "He was an extra in a play at school. He's still playing the clarinet; the doctor says it's good for his lungs. They keep suggesting letting Tails take - advanced science classes, but I don't know what to think about that."

"Send him to what - high school? College? He's a baby, Wade."

Wade grimaced, irritated to be agreeing with his mother on that point. "Yeah, that's what I - part of me thinks he should be spending more time with the other kids his age. He's got a little rival in his class - Patricia. He maybe has a crush - he took her to this winter dance, but I also think he might have been trying to pump her for information about her science fair project."

Wade's dad chuckled. "Sounds like he's got your smarts, son."

"My - what?"

"Oh, not books, I know you had trouble with those, but you remember, Millie, his lemonade stands? You always seemed to know when people would most want lemonade. You always showed up at the Little League games, and never let you get away with buying him that powdered junk, Millie. And you always gave away free pretzels - you remember that, Millie? Anyway, not surprising Tails got those smarts from watching you."

Wade frowned; he remembered the lemonade stands, but hadn't remembered this sort of praise around it. He remembered his father suggesting he get a more adult hobby at some point - which he supposed was his father's way of suggesting he try to replicate his success with lemonade at something else.

"You know, a - friend of mine has been suggesting I make a change," Wade said, voice cracking slightly.

"What sort of a change?" his mom asked.

"A - sort of a change in career?"

"Oh, you should!" his mother declared. "I always worry about you patrolling out there, where there's-"

"What, Mom? It's Montana, the worst we get is-"

"That terrorist who tried to crash a military satellite into the Pentagon," Wade's father said.

"It was a space station," Wade corrected, aware it didn't make much difference one way or another.

"But you wanted to change jobs?" his mother prompted.

"I don't know - maybe. He keeps suggesting I open up a coffee shop-"

"Oh, Green Hills could use one of those! Right, Logan?"

"It's more effort than police work," Wade's father mused. "Less downtime, and you'd have to be on top of all the paperwork yourself."

"But more consistent," Wade's mom pointed out. "The boys might like knowing you'll be home every night."

"So you think it's a good idea?"

"It's a fine idea-"

"It's a lot of work," Wade's dad interrupted. "Not just work, but attention to detail, paperwork, planning. If you're willing to do that - yeah, like your mother says, it's a fine idea."

"...Well, thanks for the advice."

"Anytime, son," his father replied. "And remember to check in about spring break - we'd love to see all of you if you can manage it."

"Yeah, we'll see. I gotta go."

"Love you, Baby," his mother chimed.

"Yeah, love you, too."

Vector pushed his way through the door just as Wade hung up, carrying several large bags. "What's up? You don't have to rush off to rescue a kitten from a tree, do you?"

"Talking to my parents," Wade replied.

"We really gotta get one of those worldwide satellite networks on Mobius - it makes keeping in touch with family so easy."

"You don't talk much with yours?"

"Oh, letters, occasionally. I'm on the move enough their return letters sort of chase me unsuccessfully around the world." Vector shrugged as he sat in the visitor's chair, handing over one of the bags. "Cheeseburger, no mustard, and onion rings. It took awhile because I watched 'em made to make sure they're extra crispy."

"Oh, wow, thanks," Wade said, which was not his first thought.

(His first thought was 'I love you', despite the fact he had no basis to figure that out one way or another, that none of this was anything more than what an attentive friend would do.)

"So how's your parents?" Vector asked.

"Good. They, uh, sort of agree with you. About the coffee shop."

"Well, there you go!" Vector exclaimed, holding up a bottle of soda like a glass, as if to toast, before scrambling for his bags. "Wait, I got you a drink, too-"

"Thanks."

Vector jerked his head up, staring for a moment before giving Wade a wide grin. "No 'oh you don't have to', no 'i don't deserve it'? Just a 'thank you'? I must be finally getting through to you, Deputy."

"Something like that," Wade agreed.

When he got off work that day, he took a moment to check the 'For Lease' sign outside the currently-abandoned storefront, and called Ruby Whitehead on his way home - just to ask questions.

The questions apparently required Ruby to ask him questions in return - the list seemed endless. She gave him what felt like a thousand other numbers to call, to figure out an endless list of things he'd need - suppliers, utilities, inspections, permits…

But the list felt - certain, definite, moreso than anything having to do with his day job, which always seemed to involve quotas that weren't quotas, directives that weren't directives, and paperwork he could never get the hang of. Though overwhelming, it wasn't bewildering the way his day-to-day job was, which felt more promising than his initial reactions to Vector suggesting it had been.

And for all it seemed like there were a million calls, after two days of spending every free moment on the phone, everything was suddenly rolling forward. He had a lease (practically nothing, Ruby promised, with electricity and heat thrown in for the first three months), a meeting to get a line of credit, whatever that was, a coffee supplier, a pastry supplier (he wasn't ready to commit to Vector's suggestion his baking was good enough to sell), and a promise from Kevin they would start work on bringing the place back to code for food service.

What he didn't have was a plan on how to tell Tom he was going to leave.

Which was why, a week after his first call to Ruby, he showed up at Vector's house after work with a six pack of beer under his arm.

(The Wachowskis, because they were insane, were hosting a massive sleepover at their house - their kids, Wade's, Vector's, even Knuckles.)

"Evening, Deputy."

"Not for much longer," Wade retorted, raising the beer. "Come on, celebrate with me."

"Alright, but I've drunk better men than you under the table, Deputy."

"I'm not trying to-"

"Oh-ho! Backing out?"

"No, I just - I haven't talked to Tom about this. I haven't talked to the kids about this. And it's - it's real, Vector. I've signed contracts, and I'm taking out a loan, and - do I need to make business cards?"

Vector's smile softened. "Couldn't hurt. But - come on in, Deputy. Can't promise the food'll be up to your standards, but I got a nice bottle of whiskey if that isn't enough."

Wade followed Vector into the house, where they settled on opposite sides of his couch and cracked open the beers.

"Sheriff Wachowski I get - hard to tell a man you won't be working for him anymore, but this feels like something you might want your kids to know about," he mused after they'd settled.

"I know," Wade replied, biting back a groan. "I just - they're going to have a million questions, and things are happening so fast I have like, negative twelve answers."

"Aww." Vector slung an arm around Wade's shoulders, dragging him closer. "You're overthinking it, I promise, Deputy. They're kids - they'll adapt."

"I know that's what people say, but…what if I can't do this? What if - you and my parents are wrong and I lose the house and the boys and I end up on the street-"

"Come on, none of us are gonna let something like that happen," Vector chided, shaking Wade gently. "And look - worst comes to worst, you can stay with us. We might have to double up on rooms, a bit, but we'll manage."

Wade shook his head. "Come on, you're - everyone knows you're in town for one…big job, and then you're out of here. There's not enough - missing persons or cheating spouses or whatever to keep you occupied around here."

"That's not true," Vector replied, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"It's a small town, Vector, we'd know-"

"I mean I don't have plans on leaving town anytime soon."

"But you're leaving. Eventually."

"I-" Vector ran a head along his head, inadvertently tugging Wade briefly closer to him. "Obviously I can't say for certain, one way or another, but. It's not a coincidence we're here. I decided - the boys deserve to have a place to settle."

"And out of the whole planet, you chose Green Hills?"

"It's not the schools, obviously. Or, no offense, the charming law enforcement."

"It's Sonic," Wade guessed.

"Sonic. Tails. Shadow. Knuckles. Do you know how many Mobians live in the entire state of California? Two - and one of them spends most of her time flitting between there, New York, and wherever she's shooting that week. There's ten in New York, five in the United Kingdom, and fi - six in Green Hills, Montana."

"Nine," Wade corrected, and Vector started, eyes widening slightly before he grinned.

"Hadn't figured you'd count us as being Green Hillians so fast, Deputy."

Wade shrugged. "Well, you're on good terms with the sheriff - Tom says you tip Shadow pretty well when he babysits Charmy. And you are the town's soon-to-be beloved coffee shop owner's best friend, so-"

"Best friend?" Vector asked idly, and Wade felt his chest seize. He hadn't meant to say something so open, but even though he was only on his first beer, it has loosened some of his anxiety, and with that, his tongue, apparently.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Can't say I've had a best friend before," Vector mused.

"What about your - Vanilla?"

Vector snorted. "She's - ex-girlfriend, is, I think, the right word."

"Oh." There was - something in Wade's chest that reacted to that, but he couldn't describe the emotion (except it was, perhaps, adjacent to disappointment).

"Or…no, you don't have a succinct word for it. I asked her to, uh, date me a couple of times, and she always turned me down. So I gave up. Sometimes she asks me for favors. Sometimes I ask her."

"...Oh. You, uh."

"Shocked that there's a woman out there who can resist my charms?"

"No, I." Wade bit his lip. "I'm just."

"Alright, understood. Pasts are off-limits," Vector concluded, taking a long swig of his drink. "Anyway - the point is, I'm planning to stay, and I've made arrangements so I can."

"Arrangements?" Wade glanced sidelong at Vector. "You aren't working for G.U.N., are you?"

"You mean Walters and his bunch? Not even Chaos could make that happen." Vector elbowed Wade. "Besides, I gotta sense for what sort of people are bad clients - don't pay, change around the job a lot - and G.U.N. is a bad client."

Wade snickered. "Alright, alright. Just Tom's sister-in-law - she dated this guy for like - most of a year - before finding out he was a G.U.N. agent hired to keep an eye on Sonic."

Vector whistled - a low, long sound. "In that case, I won't blame you for being careful. Man, glad I got my sense and didn't go into business with those folks."

"In any case, I guess you're my best friend, too," Vector concluded. "By process of elimination, if nothing else."

"...Thanks," Wade muttered.

"I didn't mean it like that, Deputy. Like I said, you're the only person in this whole town over the age of sixteen who gets me. You're a hell of a chef, a nice guy. Doesn't hurt you're easy on the eyes, too."

The world around Wade seemed to slow down, like the moment he'd first - taken notice.

"Sorry, you're not - I know humans can be weird about stuff like that. Not that Mobians can't, but-"

"I'm not - weird about it," Wade replied. "Just. Surprised."

"Yeah, me too. I don't find you humans attractive, as a rule, but I guess you grew on me."

Wade took a deep breath. "I don't - as a rule, I don't. Date. Uh. Anyone."

"I never said anything about dating," Vector replied with a chuckle. "I just said you were nice to look at. Or can't a croc enjoy the view?"

Wade opened his mouth, closed it, took a moment to. Think.

"I'm not used to. People saying things like that without. Wanting to date. Wanting to have sex. I'm not used to people saying things like that not…changing things."

Vector shrugged. "We're friends, Deputy - that's not gonna change unless we want it to." He took another swig of his beer. "Besides, it sounds like right now you're more in need of someone who can advise you about running your own business than a fuckbuddy."

"And that's you?"

"Mostly. Espio does the bookkeeping, so you might want to ask him about - receipts and stuff."

"You're a pretty good guy, too," Wade said, earning one of those wide, warm grins from Vector. "And - sort of easy on the eyes."

Vector guffawed. "Alright - I'm putting that on my business cards." Silence fell between them, a long moment before Wade decided to speak up.

"Are you really planning to stick around, Vector? Even after you're done with - whatever you're up to?"

"Absolutely, Deputy. I figure once you open, there won't be a better place to get coffee on this whole goddamn planet than - what are you calling this place, anyway?"

"Chaos Garden," Wade replied, and Vector's face crinkled a bit. "No good?"

"I don't know - depends if you've got the sign made up already or not."

"Come on, be honest," Wade pleaded. "I already feel stressed enough as it is about this; it's gonna be worse if I'm worried people think the name's dumb."

"Sounds like a restaurant," Vector said. "Those places that serve a lot of dishes with that little grain, and sweet-spicy food-"

"A Chinese restaurant," Wade concluded with a sinking stomach. "Oh god, you're right."

"...Did you already order a sign?" Vector asked.

"No, it's - just annoyed at myself. What would you suggest? For a name."

"Chaos Coffee," Vector declared. "It's got that - thing where you use the same sounds."

"Alliteration, yeah. It's good. I like it."

"Really?" Vector asked, elbowing Wade again. "You're not just saying that to be nice?"

"It's better than mine, at least. I like it!" Wade insisted when Vector stared flatly at him. "I'm going with it, unless you say it was a joke name in the next thirty seconds." He waited, staring into Vector's steady gaze (noting, absently, his eyes were somewhere between hazel and - gold, maybe) for a count of thirty before shrugging. "Chaos Coffee it is. In fact-" He pulled out his phone and texted Ruby and Kevin to make sure everyone was on the same page. "It's done."

"Who knew all it took to get you to show some initiative was to get you out from under Sheriff Wachowski's thumb?"

"It's - he's not-" Wade felt the protest die off, because he realized Vector knew Tom was a good guy.

"Not saying he's trying to do it to ya, Deputy, but something about that job's stifling you, I'm sure. It's nice to see you thinking for yourself."

"But I'm not," Wade protested. "This was your idea. And I only did it because my parents agreed with you."

"So? Thinking for yourself doesn't mean you can't take good advice when you hear it." Vector shook Wade a little, pulling them almost flush against each other. "In fact, recognizing good advice is practically the definition of thinking for yourself!"

"Alright," Wade agreed, pushing Vector far enough away he wasn't in danger of falling sideways on top of him. "How much have you had to drink, anyway, Mr. 'I've drunk better men than you under the table'?"

"I'm practically sober," Vector retorted, "A condition we should rectify, given neither of us has any responsibilities for the next twelve hours."

"Yeah? I could be - I could do that." Wade gave Vector an expression he hoped was challenging, rather than dopey (he'd been told his smile could border on dopey when he wasn't used to expressing whatever emotion he was trying, but had yet to figure out what that actually looked like).

"You're gonna regret that, Deputy," Vector shouted as he rose from the couch to head toward the kitchen. "I haven't met anything that can stand up to a crocodile's liver."

Waking up the next morning, Wade had to admit he did regret it. All of his joints seemed to hurt, his mouth felt dry and cracked, and he had a pulsing headache that worsened his vague nausea.

He didn't remember ever having a hangover this bad, which probably meant even in college he hadn't gotten as drunk as he had last night.

…So the fact he woke fully clothed on the couch, Vector nowhere to be seen, seemed pretty conclusive evidence that whatever his feelings towards Vector, they didn't include 'attraction', since getting blackout drunk seemed to be the prime cause of people attracted to each other sleeping together on television.

He was just finishing making steak and eggs when Vector appeared, groaning pitifully.

"What's't?" Vector grumbled. "Eggs?"

"I would have made bacon, but you don't seem to have any." Vector didn't reply, so Wade continued. "It's a pretty surefire way to get rid of a hangover - some grease, some bread - and water. Lots of water."

"We call a hangover 'the second day of being drunk'," Vector muttered as he brushed past Wade, picking up a bottle of what proved to be Aspirin and downing a handful of pills. He then sniffed cautiously at the pan before humming. "Smells good."

"That's the hope." Wade split the food between two plates, pushing the larger one toward Vector. They ate, quiet, for a few minutes. "You know, I've read a couple books where people had hangovers, and not one has accurately described how I felt when I had a hangover."

"Yeah, that's why I never trust poets," Vector said around his food. "Damn, Deputy - still think you could've given Marisola a run for her money opening a whole restaurant, but I respect your decision not to drive her out of business. Shows some real community spirit."

"...You're not still drunk, are you?"

"No - I'm being open and sincere, here," Vector retorted. "We're friends - best friends, you said, so I can say things to bolster your spirits. True things, by the way - I'm not lying to make you feel better."

"I didn't think you were, just." Wade eyed Vector happily eating breakfast he'd made and felt-

Something.

Warm. Comforting. At ease.

It wasn't attraction, obviously. But it was something.

But they had to pick up their boys, and Wade had more work to do to set up Chaos Coffee, so there wasn't time to worry about it.

Vector was right, though; even if he hadn't figured out how to tell Tom, he needed to tell the boys about the shop. So he gave it a minute once they were in the car before announcing, "I've got something important to tell you."

Tails perked up, ears flicking toward Wade, and Silver straightened slightly in his seat.

"We're all ears," Tails replied.

"Good, that's. Good. I. Look, I've been talking a lot - with Vector, mostly, but my parents, too, and. Um. I'm quitting my job."

"Quitting?" Silver asked. "Does that mean they won't pay you anymore? Are we going to be able to afford food? Are we going to have to live out on the street?"

"No, I - I hope not. Look, I'm - I've got a plan. And some savings. And a - a loan to run the business, which is sort of the point of the quitting, I'm starting my own business-"

"Like Vector?" Silver asked.

"Not a - I'm not going to be a private detective. I'm opening a coffee shop. I'm leasing out the place that - okay, I actually don't remember what was last there, but-"

"You're renting a cursed coffee shop?" Silver demanded, voice high.

"Do you mean the place Eggman's partner was working when he was staking out Green Hills?" Tails, the resident expert on Sonic Wachowski's adventures, would remember that fact.

"Well, yes, but I'm not planning on hiring known terrorists to work there."

"Obviously," Tails agreed. "I just meant - have you considered the possibility he left some sort of monitoring device in the coffee shop? Or some sort of Eggbot?"

The Commander of the Guardian Units of Nations didn't often get calls from Green Hills. The people of Green Hills had by and large written off the contributions he could make to the safety of their community.

Local law enforcement had been particularly uncooperative - Thomas Wachowski had made some comments that were wholly uncalled-for when the Commander had suggested how they could make use of Gerald's little science project, once it had decided to help foil the madman's plan to destroy all life on Earth.

So the call from his deputy - Wade Whipple, thoroughly unremarkable in every way, except that he had adopted what could very well be the most intelligent creature on the planet - was a puzzling, if welcome, break in the pattern.

"No, Deputy Whipple," he found himself explaining, "G.U.N. didn't somehow 'miss' one of Robotnik's clever little gadgets or Stone's monitoring programs or one of their infuriatingly brilliant robots when we finished our sweep of the Mean Bean. The building is one hundred percent free of anything they may have left behind to spy on any wayward shopkeeper, or help them rise from the ashes in the unlikely event they were defeated."

"Ah - okay," Deputy Whipple sighed.

"Now - since I graciously took some time out of my day to answer your question, I think it only fair you answer some of mine." Deputy Whipple was quiet a moment. "Deputy…I don't think I'm asking for a lot, here. We've left you to yourselves, mostly, which I think is worth a little cooperation every now and again."

"...What do you want to know?"

"You haven't seen or heard anything that suggests Robotnik has been poking around Green Hills, have you?"

"Robotnik?" Whipple asked shakily. "He's dead."

"So you've said. So Project Shadow has said. So the official G.U.N. records have said."

"Why would the G.U.N. records say something different? We told you everything that happened aboard the Ark - what happened to Robotnik-"

"Not that Robotnik, Deputy. Not Ivo. Gerald. All the records say he was executed for his crimes, but after Project Shadow - after Ark, I found myself thinking…after World War II, the Allied Powers snatched up Nazi scientists, so that the world could benefit from expertise that might otherwise have been lost to Nuremberg. And somehow Gerald Robotnik was unique in deserving summary execution? No, we'd never sacrifice something so valuable. Not after - what was lost on the Ark."

"You think…Gerald Robotnik is still around?" Whipple sounded worried; Walters felt a twinge of satisfaction at that. He was right to be afraid - Gerald had done things no one could have imagined, delved into stories that could drive lesser men mad, and come out the other end…

Not sane, of course, but he'd seen things. Come to understand them. The veterinarian - Wachowski - was tight-lipped on the subject, but Walters doubted she had even the slightest idea what Project Shadow was. It wasn't Mobian, that was clear, now, and trust wasn't strong enough for the Mobians to provide intelligence that might suggest if it was something they were familiar with.

But it was a weapon - had always been a weapon - and that meant Gerald had expected to need it.

(He'd been tasked with researching immortality, but he'd made a weapon instead. But it didn't mean he hadn't found something, some key to…longevity.)

"He was a wealthy man, Deputy Whipple. He knew how to make deals - to wrangle as much profit as he could manage from his knowledge. And he was smart. Hid his money in offshore trusts and coded accounts. Even now, I doubt the government ever found more than a third of it. So if he's still out there, Deputy, he has vast resources at his disposal, a dark, unknowable purpose, and no consideration for those that stand between him and his goal.

"So keep all that in mind, Deputy, when I ask if you've seen any evidence that Gerald Robotnik is alive and reaching out to his ultimate creation."

"...We haven't seen anything," Whipple said.

"Good. If you see something, or hear something, Deputy, I'd like it if you'd call me to tell me about it."

"...Sure," Whipple agreed.

Chapter Text

Wade missed opening Chaos Coffee on Valentines Day by just over a week. He wasn't certain if it would have made much of a difference being open that day, but it was still a mild disappointment.

"But it's open today," Vector, settled at a table near the back, offered, "which is a victory the way I look at it."

Wade shrugged, trying to multiply in his head if the morning's earnings would be enough to cover rent, if he earned the same thing every day (it was not going well; there was a reason Wade had long relied on calculators in math class).

"Come on, it's your first day! You can't be worrying already."

"I'm not worrying - exactly. Just trying to…estimate."

Vector hopped up from his seat to swing around the counter and lean into Wade, grinning. "Relax, Deputy. Nobody ever made their first million on the first day. You remember what Espio told you? Check in at the end of each month, and don't worry so much otherwise."

"I know," Wade said, pushing Vector away (gently), and directing him to the other side of the counter. "And you need to remember only employees back here."

"My son's your bookkeeper - does that count?"

"Baristas, Vector."

Vector dropped to lean on the counter, frowning (but only slightly). "You should let me help out," he wheedled, a repeat of an argument he'd been making for several weeks. "I don't want you to get burned out before you have a chance to make it big."

"Like you said, I'll check in after a month and see if I need help. And if I do, I'll hire help."

"Your boys could help out, you know."

Wade leveled a stare at Vector. "If you know where I can get full-body hairnets, sure."

Vector blinked before nodding and ambling back to his table. "...Yeah, I can see that. Well-"

"You don't have to hang around trying to make me feel better," Wade protested, before biting his lip and grabbing a towel to wipe down a smear of spilled coffee he hadn't gotten earlier. "I can probably handle this even without you here."

"Well, sure, but-"

"And don't you have your last big job to work on? The one you say will let you settle down in Green Hills? You can't be making much progress hanging around my cafe all day."

Vector's snout drooped slightly. "Don't you worry about me, Deputy; if there's one thing I'm always on top of, it's my work." But there was something odd about his smile, and he seemed down the rest of the day.

Wade had enough time to close and get home before the boys were done with school, so he was working on dinner when Silver got home, floating through the doorway before zipping across to the kitchen.

"Dad! How was it? I told everyone at school about Chaos Coffee, so you should have made like a million dollars!"

"It was the first day, Sweetie," Wade explained. "People seemed to like their coffee, but it's gonna take a bit before I'm making much money."

"Aww." Silver settled on a stool at the counter, dropping his heads on his crossed arms. "I wanted you to be famous, like Starbucks."

"I'm not going to be like Starbucks for a couple of reasons, Sweetie. For one, I don't think I'm going to franchise the shop, so I doubt I'm going to be well-known outside of Green Hills."

"The Starbucks of Montana, then."

The front door opened and closed. "Hello?"

"Hey, buddy, we're in the kitchen," Wade called; Tails arrived a moment later, held aloft by his tails, before sitting on the stool next to Silver. "How was school?"

"How was the coffee shop?" Tails demanded.

"He's not Starbucks, yet," Silver complained.

"Well, obviously; I saw Espio's projections, and even those are a little optimistic. I wouldn't expect the shop to break even for at least a year."

Wade had had conversations like that with the bank, but it felt more worrying hearing the assessment from his family. "How about we not worry about that for a bit? I'm working on it, which is my job, and you two can worry about school and stuff, which is your job, alright?"

"We could help out!"

"If it were a different business, maybe," Wade allowed, reaching out to pat Silver's cheek. "But it's food service, and you two are really, really fluffy, so unless I shave you all over, you can't be working there."

"Awww," Silver's face, ears, and head all drooped; if his tail were visible from here, Wade would bet it would be, too. "I wanted to serve people coffee."

"You can help with the menu boards - my handwriting's not as nice as yours. And once I start experimenting more with the drinks like tea and stuff, you can help sample."

"Really?" Silver perked up, his whole body quivering in a way that meant he was wagging his tail.

"Of course; taste testers are vital to any small food-based business - right, Tails?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," Tails agreed. "Market research based on your target audience is invaluable."

"Awesome! I'm gonna go tell Espio - I can invite him over when you're going to do taste-testing, right? More people means more research." He was gone a moment later, leaving Wade alone with Tails.

"Today was fine," Wade reassured. "Really."

"I know. I overheard some of the teachers talking about it. They're sick of having to get coffee from the diner."

"Well, that's reassuring, I guess."

Tails didn't immediately reply, so Wade returned to working on dinner. After a minute or so, Tails cleared his throat.

"I - I'm glad you're doing this," Tails said. "You never seemed…like you were happy. Being the Deputy. You seem like. You want this to go well."

"Well, thanks for the confidence, buddy." Wade circled the counter to pull Tails into a brief hug. When he set Tails down, though, he was - not frowning, but focused. "What?"

"I - if there's anything else you want to be doing, you should - don't worry about the business or us or whatever. Just. Try it, alright?"

"Okay," Wade replied, slightly bemused; it sounded almost exactly like advice he'd given Tails in the past. "If something comes up, I'll keep that in mind."

Tails' prediction turned out to be correct, as business started to pick up over the next couple of days. Locals did seem happy to have a coffee shop, which was quicker than trying to get coffee from the diner, and actually praised Wade's house spice blend (his attempt at a seasonal blend was much less popular). He already had ideas about the baked goods, but decided to wait through a couple weekends, at least, to see what people bought when they weren't rushing to work.

Vector didn't show up at the shop for those few days, which. Of course Wade noticed right off, glancing toward the door whenever it opened in case it was him, but like how the business was doing, he set it to the side to reevaluate when he had a minute.

…But he had to admit it made things a little lonely. It wasn't just that he'd gotten used to Vector hanging around his workplace, but that it had become something to look forward to, a bright spot in some otherwise unremarkable days, like seeing Silver or Tails, losing none of its effectiveness even as the novelty faded.

He was closing up on Friday when his phone rang; he had the presence of mind to check it, and answered just out of surprise seeing who it was.

"...Rachel?"

"Hey, Wade."

"What are you - you don't usually…" He trailed off, uncertain how to ask Rachel why she was calling without making it sound like he was annoyed.

"Your son sent my daughter a birthday present, and I am checking to see if it's going to vaporize anyone or has some sort of secret jetpack mode or will zap her to the next galaxy or get her on a terrorist watchlist."

"Well, first of all, I'm pretty sure Walters has us all on watchlists. But second of all, did you read the manual?"

"Listen, white boy, every television I've ever bought, I flirted with the guys at Best Buy until they agreed to send someone over to make sure everything's plugged in and sorted out so I never have to figure it out. So if you think I'm going to read your little baby fox's three-inch-thick technical manuals, you've got another thing coming."

Wade smiled, glad Rachel couldn't see him, because it would only make her mood worse. "Well, we've set up a little system at home to avoid any accidents. There should be a colored strip on the gift - on the handle if it's got one."

"...Yeah," Rachel said slowly. "Looks like he wrapped yellow duct tape around it."

"Yellow, okay. It means it's not a weapon, but the power source can be dangerous if mishandled. Yellow means it's really hard to mishandle it, but there's probably a defensive mode you can trigger in case someone's mugging you."

"So it's a personal assistant and a taser?"

"...Probably? I don't think he's made anything like that specifically for us, so I can't say for sure, but. You can send it back if you don't think it's appropriate."

"No, no - he clearly understands it's handy for a girl to be able to channel 100,000 volts through a would-be assailant. I'm sure she's already sent him a text, but I'll have her send a proper thank-you."

"If that's what you're doing, sure."

"So, I hear you quit the police force to run some sort of bakery," Rachel, a full second before Wade was going to ask if that was all. He snapped his mouth closed, uncertain how to respond. "Is that right?"

"A coffee shop, actually. I order out for some - cookies and muffins and stuff, but-"

"You should make your own. Even if it's only a few things, people can tell the difference."

"I…thanks? Vector sort of - well, he said my baking was alright, but he agrees with you."

"Vector? Who's that?"

"Maddie hasn't mentioned them? A whole Mobian family moved into town. Vector's - he's a single dad, like me."

"And he doing anything other than giving you advice about your business?" Rachel asked, voice lilting.

"I - we're friends? We hang out, I invited him and his kids over for Christmas."

"...Uh-huh. Is that all?"

Wade pulled his phone back to stare at it, wondering if Rachel could somehow see him. "W - what…"

"I'm just asking, Whipple," Rachel replied. "I am dying for gossip; Maddie won't spill anything about her intern."

"Perry's actually pretty boring. But…" Wade glanced around the shop and dropped into one of the few chairs he hadn't put up yet. "Look, can I ask you something? And maybe tell you a few things, first."

"...Sure."

"I - look, I'm not - I've never been really interested in. Dating. Sex. Relationships."

"Huh - I assumed you were gay when you completely ignored the signals I tossed your way."

"You what?" Wade asked, startled.

"It doesn't matter - you weren't interested anyway, right?"

"Right."

"Except…"

"Except," Wade sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Look, I can't say for sure if Vector, uh."

"Gets you going?" Rachel asked, laughing at Wade's indignant squeak. "Is he a hedgehog? I need a picture, here."

"He's a crocodile. Taller than me, even if you don't count the tail."

"Awright. A croc. Must be suffering out there."

"Yeah, uh. Can we talk about my, uh."

"Oh, yeah," Rachel replied, sounding more excited than Wade was used to with her. "Give me the deets, Coffee Man."

"So it's like. I've never been into. Relationships. I've never had a crush or."

"Virgin?"

Wade sputtered. "Not quite that. I tried to. In college. Figure out. I wasn't…I could do without it, and it didn't seem worth all the. Effort."

"Ha!" Rachel barked out. "But the way you're talking, I'm guessing there's a certain crocodile who's making you rethink that."

"He's making me rethink something," Wade replied, pinching his forehead. "I'm not talking about. Uh."

"Honey, we're not going to get through this conversation if you can't say the word 'sex'."

"Fine! I have had the odd sexual thought about Vector, but that's not what this is about. I am saying that seeing him makes my day feel a little better, that I keep wanting to share random thoughts with him, the dumb shit that happens at the shop that he wasn't around to see because for some reason he's made himself scarce the last couple of days and somehow I'm having to actively set that aside because I have a business to run and either I'm falling for him or I'm going insane and I don't know which one scares me more."

They were quiet for a minute or so after that, Wade hearing only his own ragged breaths. And then Rachel spoke.

"Honey, you've got it bad," she said.

"You think so?"

"I know so - this is literally what every movie about people falling in love is about."

Wade squinted at the dark coffee shop. "I really didn't get that at all."

"Well, it's true," and since Wade was consulting Rachel as the expert (or at least the person with experience), he couldn't argue. "So…what are you planning to do about it?"

"...Do?"

"Yeah - do. Usually when people find themselves crushing on someone, they consider doing something about it. Telling the person, or trying to woo them, or trying to get over it."

"I - sort of already told Vector I was. Asexual? Is that what it's called?"

"Oh, honey, don't ask me. Still-" Rachel sighed. "Look, I hear kids getting all worked up over putting everything - putting themselves - in all these boxes, with the right labels, so I'm gonna tell you what I told Jojo. When it comes to your life, your heart, you don't do what the label says you should do, because the label describes what you do, not - tell you what to do. So maybe years ago you didn't feel like - romance, or sex, was for you. Maybe you feel differently now. Maybe he makes you feel differently. It doesn't matter how or why, as long as it's what you want to do."

Wade huffed, letting the words settle in his brain. He wasn't sure how well they'd fit, but they felt like something. "What you told Jojo, right?"

"Well, not verbatim. But more or less. You do you, Wade - and if that changes for one reason or another, don't let that stop you from doing the new you."

"Huh. That was actually - a big help. Thanks, Rachel."

"People are always surprised, thinking Maddie got the brains, but I've got plenty of smarts, Whipple."

"Yeah, I. Obviously. Jojo had to get it from somewhere."

"That's almost a compliment. Now look, you go sleep on it, and maybe keep me up-to-date, because now I'm invested."

"Sure. Yeah. Thanks."

Wade gave it another minute, sitting quietly in the dim coffee shop, just trying to let the thoughts settle, before he rose, finished stacking the chairs, and headed out. Whether he needed to figure out what to do or not, he had a household to keep running.

The conversation stuck with him that night, not just whether he felt something for Vector that wasn't quite what he'd come to feel as friendship, but about how he could - set aside the mental picture he had of his future if what he was feeling had changed what would be in it.

The problem was, like the coffee shop, Wade was the only one who could make a decision about this (especially since he'd told Vector preemptively he wasn't interested). And in the end, if he wanted this to be anything, he had to talk about it.

So when the boys went to bed (or at least to their rooms), Wade retreated to his own and called Vector.

"What's up, Deputy?"

Oh, there was no doubt Rachel was right, the way Wade's chest hitched on hearing Vector's voice for the first time in a few days.

"Just checking in - I haven't heard from you in a couple of days, and I. Missed that."

Vector chuckled gently. "Hadn't realized you'd gotten so attached, Deputy. I was catching up on some work, but I'll try to check in more often."

"You don't-"

"What did I say, Deputy? Every time you say something like that, I'm gonna decided I gotta. So yes I do, especially when not hearing from me causes you to wilt like a neglected sunflower."

"It's not-" Wade cut himself off rather than lie to Vector, because however he might object to the way Vector said it, he had been - wilting a little over the past few days. "Look, can I talk to you about something?"

"Absolutely."

Wade took a deep breath. And then another. "I. You know how we talked. A few weeks ago, and I told you. Some stuff about me?"

"Gonna need to be a little more specific, Deputy."

"You told me you found me attractive, and I said I - don't really think about people that way."

"Ah."

"That I don't really think about sex, that I haven't really considered a relationship - ever."

"I remember. Wasn't so drunk I couldn't remember important conversations like that."

"Well, what would you say if I told you I'd been - reevaluating. Aspects of what I told you?"

"I'm a romantic, Deputy - not really built for friends-with-benefits things."

"...I wasn't talking about re-evaluating the sex thing," Wade said, trying to be as plain as he could. "I was saying I was reconsidering whether I'd ever want a…romantic relationship with someone."

"Haven't fallen for the old 'kids need a mom and a dad' act, have you?" Vector asked, lilting voice almost a little teasing.

"No, I can handle this myself just fine, whatever Tom and Maddie might think. I just started to think that my no-romance thing was…more of a guideline than an actual rule. You know, the sort of thing I'd waive if the…right croc came along."

There was quiet on the other line; it took a few moments for Wade to realize Vector could have hung up without Wade noticing. "Vector?"

"I'm hoping you weren't misspeaking there, Deputy." Vector's voice was tense, words clipped, and Wade could sympathize - his own chest felt wound-up, like a spring ready to snap.

"No," Wade said. "I meant - yeah, if I met a - charming crocodile with two kids of his own, and a - generous nature, and a nice smile, he might inspire me to consider being a…romantic, myself."

"Are you asking me out on a date, Deputy, or is all this just a build-up to some crushing disappointment?"

"Yeah, I guess I - if you'd want to go out sometime-"

"I'm not actually sure I see a point in that," Vector said, sending Wade's heart plummeting. "What's a first date? It's getting to know each other, seeing if we get along. We know all that already."

"...So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe instead we get together, talk, figure out if we're on the same page about what you're, uh, looking for, see where that takes you. Maybe over dinner."

"I don't know how they do things on Mobius, Vector, but that sounds like a date."

"Awright, awright, whatever you say - I just figure a date's got more questions in it than whatever this is gonna be."

Wade didn't think to ask what Vector meant about that until the next Thursday, when they finally managed to arrange their relative babysitting schedules to get together - forty minutes out of town, on the outskirts of Pine Grove, a town that had spent years trying to master the 'charming tourist town' vibe to little effect, but did have a half-decent Italian restaurant (in addition to the Olive Garden), which was where they'd agreed to meet.

"So, how's the bean-brewing business?" Vector asked after they were seated.

Wade snorted. "You were there this morning, pushing the seasonal blend."

Vector shook his head, a mournful expression on his face. "Sorry, Deputy, but I think the verdict's in - whatever you threw into that blend does not taste good."

"Fine, I'll drop it," Wade agreed, before glancing at Vector, who, although he'd made frequent appearances at Chaos Coffee, had been - scarcer than usual. "So, how's the professional busybody business?"

"Goin alright," Vector replied easily, scanning the menu. "But come on, we didn't come out here for small talk."

"Right," Wade replied, suddenly aware how close his leg was to Vector's. "We wanted to talk about-"

"Now I told you, I'm a - romantic, Deputy. I don't think I've ever sat down with somebody I didn't imagine, someday, if it worked out, I could settle down in a nice house with, you know? I'm not saying I - I'm picturing a wedding or anything, but if you're not seeing something that could be - permanent if it goes well, I'm gonna have to take a few steps back."

"That's-" Wade bit his lip to keep his every thought from spilling out, because it was a lot, wondering if he was gay, the way some kids who saw he'd never dated in high school said, or if was only chance that out of however few people he might be attracted to, he met a man, first. Fear that he was misinterpreting his desire to keep Vector around, that the warmth, the flutter he felt when he thought about Vector, were aspects of friendship he'd never had with someone else. Hearing Vector explain, a new worry rose, that he'd hurt Vector, in discovering that for sure.

"I'm not laying out any ultimatums, Wade," Vector said, more gently. "Just explaining what's up in my head. So…maybe you can do the same?"

"I like you a lot, Vector," Wade got out at last. "And I don't know if I've just never had a friend like this before, or if it's…if this is really what it means to like-like someone."

Vector blinked. "Not sure I follow."

"Sorry, it's - all I ever hear from people my age is if they're dating, or having sex, or in love, so the stupid kid-way of saying it's all I got. I like you, and I don't know if that's the same as - wanting to imagine a future with a picket fence, 2.5 kids-"

"We've got four between the two of us," Vector pointed out.

"Yeah, it's a - nevermind. But the thing is, Vector, I'd feel terrible if we, I - started something, and it turned out I was all wrong about all this, and you got hurt."

"Come on," Vector chortled, kicking Wade's ankle gently. "I'm an adult - I know the risks testing out any relationship. Thinking it might work out, and being wrong about that - that's not anybody's fault. And it's not your job to worry what it might do to me."

"But you're my friend," Wade protested, hand reaching out before he let it drop on the table. "I don't want to-"

"Well, that seems like a sign we might have a few points in our favor, wouldn't you say?" Vector asked, expression - so gentle, a barely-there smile, and a hand resting on top of Wade's.

"Y - yeah, I guess."

"So how about the basics, then? I, Deputy, am strictly a one-man croc. Or, uh, one-person."

"Uh? What do you - oh." Wade smiled gently at Vector. "Up until - a while ago, I sort of thought I was a - zero-person man, which means this is way more than I thought I'd - look, if I see any of this changing, I'd tell you, but-"

"Alright, fair enough." Vector waved a hand at Wade to cut him off. "Communication, Deputy, that's the secret."

"Do you really want to stay in Green Hills, or did you just say that to make me happy?"

Vector huffed. "Pulling out the hard questions, eh, Deputy?" He shook his head. "I wanna settle down to let the kids - be kids, you know? There's a lot of good reasons to pick some - bigger places, but one day they're gonna have the whole galaxy, you know? And now…I've got some attachments to the place."

"Oh. Good."

"I think that makes it my turn for answers," Vector allowed, picking up one of the breadsticks and biting through it with a snap of his jaws. "Sex - that's a - non-starter, right?"

"No, that's…" Wade shrugged. "I can have sex. And obviously, it's designed to feel good. I just - didn't pursue it once I figured out that's all there is to it."

"That's a shame," Vector murmured.

"I'm sorry, but that's just how I feel."

"Oh, I'm not sorry for me - I'm sorry you've never had anyone you could have fun with," Vector said, shaking his head. "Come on, Deputy - there's a difference between a - between oatmeal and, those dinners where they prepare the food on a stove in front of you."

"What?" Wade was feeling a - little lost.

"I mean, no one put the effort in to make sure you had a good time, and that's a shame. Because if it were me, Deputy?" Vector leaned in, lowering his voice as he continued. "It'd be about the journey, you know?"

Wade didn't know - his limited experience, and lack of interest in exploring further, had left him with very little fuel to imagine what Vector could mean. But even without specifics, he could imagine very well-

A vibe. A quiet room. Maybe laughter every now and again, because they were good at making each other laugh. Vector focused, and Wade-

Attentive. Trying to commit everything to memory, so on a repeat performance, he could bring the same focus to Vector-

"...Yeah, I do." His voice was - rough, so he cleared his throat. "It might be something worth. Exploring. In the future. To see. If the journey's worth the. Uh. Destination."

"Well," Vector said slowly, grinning that crocodile grin. "You do know how to make a promise sound - promising, Deputy. Not to say I'm out if this - particular aspect of the project doesn't pan out. Just."

"Uh. Yeah," Wade agreed. He felt flustered, the back of his neck hot, and he couldn't say if it was.

What it was.

"Well," Vector concluded, his smile just as wide, but softer, gaze less focused (less hungry - Wade remembered hearing people describe sexual attraction in terms of…hunger, a gnawing need, one reason he eventually decided it wasn't for him. If this conversation were rousing that sort of feeling in Vector…it left a staticky sort of feeling in Wade's chest). "It seems like we've got the beginnings of an…understanding, wouldn't you say, Deputy?"

Wade smiled shakily at Vector, hoping his nerves didn't come through. "Yeah. It does."

Something rapped against Tom's desk. When he looked up from his work, it was to find Perry Starline, Mobian, platypus, and aspiring doctor, glaring up at him.

"What's up, Doc?" Tom said, freeing a hand from his typing to wave at the chair across from him.

"That sounds suspiciously like one of your jokes," Perry grumbled, "for which I have no time. I am expending my lunch break for this visit, Sheriff, so I would prefer it takes as little time as necessary."

"Well, then, go ahead. What seems to be the problem?"

"We are all in danger, Sheriff."

"Danger?"

"Some months ago, an investigator arrived in Green Hills. By all appearances, his mission mundane, uninteresting. Finding lost persons. Tracking errant husbands and wives. But I have come to conclude he is here for a far more sinister purpose, Sheriff. His son is familiar with your eldest, correct?"

"Shadow babysits Charmy pretty often, yeah."

"And his other son associates himself with the Whipple family."

"I mean, they both spend a lot of time with the Whipples - Vector and Wade are pretty close."

"And it doesn't seem odd to you?" Perry demanded. "A Mobian appears in town, immediately cozies up to the saviors of the planet?"

"If I recall correctly, a certain platypus did the same thing when he came to Green Hills-"

"And I had an angle, Sheriff - or did that slip your mind? A confidence man will always recognize another confidence man."

Tom shook his head. "No, he - Wade would've mentioned something."

"If he noticed. If he weren't seduced by that snake's lies."

"Okay, do you have any actual evidence, or is spouting random allegations how you like to spend your lunch break?"

"Hypotheses, Sheriff," Perry growled. "Bordering on theories. I took it upon myself to interrogate Vector some time ago, and learned he is looking for something in Green Hills - something that shouldn't be here. He has received regular wire transfers every month since he arrived - consistent with being paid for expenses, Sheriff."

"He's told Wade he's been working missing persons cases online, mostly-" Tom stopped, finding his gaze drawn back to Perry, investigative instincts prickling at the back of his neck. "What did you do?"

"I investigated, Sheriff - something you neglected to do. And I discovered the source of those payments."

He tossed a sheaf of papers on Tom's desk; it was a printout of bank information - wire transfers, it looked like.

And one word jumped out at Tom - the same way it would have to Perry.

Kintobor

"Gerald Robotnik was a wealthy man," Perry snarled. "He likely had trusts and estates scattered across the world - enough wealth to allow him - or his progeny - to do anything they desired. I spoke to Commander Walters - there is some doubt that his predecessors executed Gerald as they claimed. Gerald nearly destroyed the world when his granddaughter died - what do you think he will do when he finds evidence his grandson did, as well?"

Chapter Text

Wade had been at work an hour when his cell phone rang; as the morning rush wouldn't start for another half-hour at least, and he had no manager to complain about him being on the phone while he was on the clock, Wade checked to see it was Tom before answering it.

"Hey."

"I need to talk to you, Wade."

"Well, here I am."

"In person," Tom snapped. "It's important."

"Alright. I can probably make a few minutes after I close up here-"

"I don't know if it can wait that long," Tom insisted. "Can you come by the station?"

"Can you come by the shop? If I'm holed up talking to you there, I risk missing out on customers, which makes it harder to do a little thing I call 'eating'."

Tom sighed. "Alright, fine. Don't go anywhere."

"Where would I-" But Tom had already hung up. Wade shrugged and returned to his prep, which was going slower than usual. With both their kids at a sleepover at Carl Turner's with Knuckles (who abandoned any pretense at not living at Carl's during the winter, when sleeping outside wasn't an option), it had been a rare opportunity for Vector to stay the night, making getting out of bed to come to work more of an ordeal than usual. It turned out Mobian reptiles were as warm-blooded as their hedgehog brethren, and Vector wasn't so much a 'cuddler' as 'unwilling to let go of whoever he'd grabbed ahold of in the middle of the night', so leaving the bed involved extricating himself from the grip of a 300-pound alien crocodile that he wouldn't want to get away from even if he hadn't been keeping Wade warm.

So he was feeling slightly less motivated than usual, especially since Vector could not, it seemed, be woken before eight in the morning, so Wade didn't even have Vector around to talk to while he went through the motions.

It was entirely possible this affected Wade's mood, because he felt a spike of irritation when the front bell jangled as Tom pushed through the front door.

"Morning," Wade said automatically. "Can I get you anything?"

"Ah, no - we're still working through this fancy coffee Maddie's parents got me for Christmas."

Wade grunted in assent, glancing out the window in case any other customers were coming.

"Wade," Tom said, drawing his attention. Tom's face was set - serious, bordering on grim, like when it had become clear their sons had, despite all sense, let an alien fox fly them into orbit to confront a mad scientist and some sort of hedgehog-based superweapon. "We need to talk about Vector."

"...okay?" Wade and Vector had not, with the exception of their sons, sat down and told anyone they were dating, but also had made zero effort to conceal anything, so Wade had technically been expecting a 'what do you see in a six-foot-tall alien crocodile?' conversation from Tom or Maddie at some point. He hadn't expected Tom to consider it important enough to accost Wade in his place of work, but he'd misjudged the level of importance Tom put on things before.

"Has he told you anything about what he's doing in Green Hills?"

"He's planning on settling down here, if that's what you're wondering. He wants the boys to have somewhere to call home."

"No, I mean-" Tom took a few steps in. "The job. He's in town to research something or find someone, and I'm asking if you know what it is."

"No? I think he takes client confidentiality pretty seriously - also, sometimes someone really shouldn't be found, you know? So he tries to keep the whole thing on the down-low-"

"Because I talked to Shadow, and Charmy has been asking a lot of questions about his past - seems really interested in what he thinks happened to Doctor Robotnik. And Sonic told me Espio's been interrogating a lot of kids about anything weird happening around town."

"...Okay? Look, Tom, I'm not involved in all this police business anymore, so I'm not really following what you're-"

"I talked to Walters," Tom ground out. "He says you two spoke. He warned you there was a possibility Gerald Robotnik was running around somewhere. Was there a reason you didn't mention it to me? Did your boyfriend tell you to keep it quiet?"

"Boyf - what does Vector have to do with this?"

Tom sighed. "He's working with Gerald Robotnik. You know the guy who tried to end all life on the planet?"

"No he isn't," Wade scoffed. "It didn't specifically come up in the 'sharing our respective values' part of getting to know each other, but I'm pretty sure Vector is anti-ending all life on the planet - even the ones he doesn't live on."

"I'm not saying he-" Tom started, circling around Wade as he tried to check the trash cans. "I'm not saying he's actively planning to help blow up the planet, Wade, but Gerald fooled the U.S. military about what he was up to. If Vector's working for him-"

"I'm pretty sure Vector is smarter than Walters - he said G.U.N. gave him the heebie-jeebies, so I'm positive he isn't working for Gerald, Doctor Robotnik, or even Stone," Wade growled, starting to feel like the conversation was going in circles. "And I'm actually a little offended you're accusing Vector of being like, a secret pawn of the Robotniks just because, what, Perry had a theory?"

"No, because he's getting paid through some foreign trust called 'Kintobor'," Tom snapped. "I've seen proof, Wade, and I'm offended you think I'd throw around accusations like that without looking into them. This is how policing works, which it seems you forgot pretty quickly-"

"You can go, Tom."

"What?"

Wade pointed at the door. "I think you know the way out. Because I've told you everything I know, which means I don't have to listen to you talking about my boyfriend like that."

Tom stared at Wade blankly for a long moment, jaw clenched (Wade wondered if Tom might actually hit him), before turning and storming out of the shop.

Wade let out a pent-up breath and sat back against the pastry display case, chest tight. He pulled out his phone and pulled up his prior contacts, since he'd mostly been talking to one person in the past couple of weeks.

"Mrgw?" Vector muttered into the phone.

"I need you," Wade blurted, before pausing. "I mean, like here, not. You know. Uh. Sexually."

There was a rustling sound; remembering Vector sprawled out in bed when Wade had left, he could imagine Vector sitting up. "Everything okay, Deputy?"

"Don't - I'm not…can you just come out to the shop?" Wade pleaded.

"Yeah, of course - you want me to swing by Carl's, see if I can pick up the kids first?"

The tension in Wade's chest loosened at the question, at the overwhelming sense of - comfort he'd come to feel around Vector, the apparent recognition that worrying about one more thing might cause Wade's head to explode.

"Yeah, sure - that'd be great. Thanks."

"See you in a bit," Vector promised. "And Wade?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got your back - so hold it together for a bit, and it'll be fine."

"Sure," Wade murmured before hanging up, closing his eyes for just a moment to steady himself. "Love you," he said to the empty air.

It had been true for a while, in varying senses of the word, but it was the first time Wade had really felt it in the - conventional sense, of when you'd say it to someone you were dating (or rather, the first time he'd crystalized the messy mixture of fondness, attraction, warmth, support, and deep desire to just keep this man around into a single emotion - no wonder no one seemed to be able to explain it, if it felt this confusing every time).

Unfortunately, Wade didn't have the time to think much about that, as the door jangled, heralding the first customers of the morning rush, and he was busy for a while - close to half an hour - before the door opened to admit his three favorite aliens, with Espio and Charmy on their heels.

"Hey, Deputy!" Vector called out, waving, and Wade felt his heart hitch in a far less worrying way than when he'd first suspected he was falling for the crocodile. Vector herded the kids to one of the tables (they were all moving a little slowly, and none of them were airborne, a suggestion they'd managed very little sleep the night before), but when he returned to join the line to order, Silver followed him, trailing him as they approached the front of the line.

"You know, you could've cut in line," Wade said when Vector arrived at the counter. "Since you're, uh,"

"Dating the owner?" Vector asked. "I considered that, but then asked myself what sort of example I'd be setting for your son, here, if I took advantage of something like that. A large house blend, black, a medium latte for Espio, two large hot chocolates-"

"With extra marshmallows, and a chocolate drizzle, and cinnamon," Silver piped up.

"Yeah, that," Vector concluded, "and, uh - a dark-roast latte with marshmallows?"

Wade nodded, recognizing Tails' post-all-nighter drink; eventually, someone would introduce him to mint chocolate mocha, and it'd be all over.

"Any pastries?"

Vector clicked his tongue. "Naw - I gotta guy who makes way better ones than the store-bought crap you got here."

Wade rolled his eyes. "Well, he's got a full morning, so you aren't getting any pastries from him today."

"I'll try to survive," Vector replied, handing over a few bills to Wade with an exaggerated wink, before ambling over to the pickup area. It took a minute to finish the order, delivering two of the cups to Vector while Silver took the other three.

"You really should get someone - to take the orders or make the drinks, at least," Vector said.

"Well, I last more than two months and I'll consider it," Wade replied, turning back to the register. Vector, though, lingered.

"You…alright?" he asked. "You seemed a little frantic, earlier."

"I'm fine." After a moment, Wade corrected, "I will be fine. Just - thanks for seeing to the boys."

"What? Anytime - not gonna be much use in me sticking around if I'm not willing to shoulder any responsibility. Anyway, as long as you're going to be fine, we'll…be over there." Vector waved toward his table.

"Sure, I-" Wade almost asked him, then. If he was helping out Gerald Robotnik. But aside from it not being the place or time, there was no good reason to ask.

It wasn't that he was afraid of the answer - Wade was in fact certain the answer would be 'no' - but Wade was pretty certain it wasn't cool to ask your boyfriend if he was a terrorist (intentional or not). Especially if you already knew the answer - knew the man in question well enough to know he wouldn't help a man like Gerald Robotnik.

(He'd said he had a sense for sniffing out bad clients, and had on occasion gotten to the end of a job and realized some missing persons should remain missing. So it stood to reason that a man like that wouldn't have let Gerald talk him into abetting his scheme, whatever it was.)

It would be so much easier if Tom were the sort of guy who'd make accusations like that without a lot of evidence, if Wade could be sure Perry's theory was based on nothing. But there was something going on, and either Wade could get answers, or Tom would badger Vector until he got them.

The boys cleared out shortly after finishing their drinks, but Vector stuck around, settling at the table by the back he frequented when he spent more than an hour or so at Chaos Coffee, waving every time Wade caught his eye.

They didn't end up having time to talk during the day, but it made Wade feel better, anyway. At least until he closed up, Vector grabbed a broom without Wade asking, and Wade realized he was going to have to talk about this eventually.

"Uh," Wade said as Vector began sweeping the shop.

Vector paused, shooting Wade a long glance, before returning to the work. "Don't say I don't have to help, Wade, or I'll do this every day for a month."

"No, I." Wade watched Vector sweep for a moment. "You might not want to keep helping in a bit."

"Hm? Why?"

"Tom…came by earlier. He'd been talking to Perry, and-"

"He isn't trying to get you to share your experiences with inter-species sexual activity, is he? I had to tell Maddie we weren't, ah, engaging in any of that, but now I don't know what to say to her, since she said it'd help her write a pamphlet for Mobians on Earth."

"She - uh. No. I - no." Wade rubbed a hand across his face, dreading that conversation. He had enough trouble talking about sex with the person he was having it with, without trying to handle Maddie asking him clinical questions that other people might read the answers to. "It's about something else. Apparently, Tom's been talking to G.U.N., and to Perry, and they all think - they're worried you might have gotten tangled up in something you shouldn't have."

Vector's motion slowed, and once he'd stopped sweeping, he set the broom aside and approached Wade, stopping - just out of reach. "What sort of…something?"

"I honestly don't know - they think one of the Robotniks survived getting executed, or being shoved out of an airlock, or that Stone's trying to track down evidence they survived, or I don't even know - maybe he built a robot who's trying to figure out who to get revenge on, and it sounds insane, and like nothing you'd actually do, except something weird's going on because they got your bank statements and found you've been paid by this Kintobor Trust, and I think you need to tell me what's going on so I can tell Tom where to stick all his suspicions about what you're up to."

Wade took a deep breath, feeling lightheaded, giving Vector a weak smile. "So that's, uh. It."

Vector let out a long breath. "That's. I can see how that'd get you worked up, worrying about me like that."

"I'm not worried about you," Wade corrected. "I'm worried they're going to make trouble for you over something that's not even-"

"Hey." Vector caught Wade's hand, stepping close, so his mouth was by Wade's ear. "I get it. Sweet how you're already leaping to my defense, but things are - a little more complicated than that."

"It may be complicated, but you're not working for Doctor Robotnik," Wade scoffed.

"And what if I said that I was?" Vector retorted.

Tom had been in a bad mood for the last few days, which tended to put the whole household on edge. He didn't let the little things get him down, usually, so when something did, it hovered over all of them, a persistent worry.

It was worse because Shadow had been short-tempered, as well. Sonic had forced him to admit he was having frequent headaches, which only caffeine seemed to help at all, but he refused to discuss what else was bothering him, even (Sonic suspected) to the family therapist.

It left Sonic feeling sick and restless, so much he barely noticed when Maddie got a call, until she poked her head over the couch, brow furrowed.

"Sonic? You don't know where Shadow is, do you?"

"Moping on the roof, probably," Sonic replied, before sitting up, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Do you need me to get him?"

"It'd be helpful, yes. Be careful, though-"

Sonic was already on the roof, hopping up and down to keep warm, because unlike Shadow, he hadn't grabbed a jacket before coming out here. Shadow was seated, arms around his legs, glaring at the snow-covered trees beyond their yard.

"Hey - Mom wants you," Sonic informed him.

Shadow didn't give any appearance of having heard, not moving from his position.

Sonic kicked his ankle gently. "Hey, Faker - Mom wants to see you downstairs. Inside," he added, in case Shadow had forgotten about the existence of the interior of their house. "Because it's freezing out here. Which honestly, I wouldn't expect you to be out here, anyway, given how much you complain about the cold."

"I don't complain," Shadow replied at last. "I'm more sensitive to cold than the rest of you - like Mom says, because whatever I am is cold-blooded."

"Awww, is that your way of asking for a hug?" Sonic asked, leaning in to grab Shadow before he could answer. But the other hedgehog (and he was a hedgehog, whatever Maddie or Doctor Starline said about what else he might be) vanished before Sonic could grab him; mission accomplished, Sonic returned inside, where Shadow was at least listening to Maddie.

"I just got off the phone with Wade."

"Just tell me when he needs me to babysit and I'll make time-"

"It's - not about baby-sitting, honey," Maddie said. "He said - Vector has something important to share with you."

"It's about what he's been doing in Green Hills all this time, isn't it?" Shadow asked brusquely.

Maddie paused, glancing between Shadow and Sonic, before shrugging. "Wade didn't explain. But he said - he trusts Vector." She crouched down, taking Shadow's hands. "But you don't have to go, honey, if you don't want to. I can call him back-"

"No," Shadow interrupted. "I want to hear what he has to say. It has to be important - right?"

"It doesn't mean you have to go - but certainly, it could be."

Shadow considered that for a moment before nodding. "I want Sonic to come with us," he announced.

"What? Why?" Of course Sonic wanted to go, but he wasn't used to Shadow being anything more than indifferent at best to his presence.

"Because you're my brother, you dumbass," Shadow grunted. "I don't know what Vector wants me for, but I'd rather you there…than not."

"Awww!" Sonic went in for a hug, catching Shadow by surprise; he flailed and shoved Sonic back, scowling when he saw Maddie watching, hand covering her mouth. But he didn't call Sonic a dumbass again, and held onto his hand on the car ride over (it was a given, somehow, that Maddie would drive them, even if they were only going to Chaos Coffee).

When they arrived, the place was deserted, the blinds on the windows drawn, and Vector sitting at a table, five cups sitting in front of him. Wade waved at Maddie when he saw her, gaze flicking to Sonic before he nodded - maybe he understood why Shadow would want company.

"Well, the gang's all here," Vector announced, while Wade, still behind the counter, fiddled with a sixth cup, filling it with Chaos Coffee's house blend. "Or almost. Go ahead - siddown."

Shadow sat carefully, dragging Sonic along with him. Maddie sat more carefully, eyeing the empty seat warily.

"Who are we waiting for, Vector?"

"My boss," he replied. "Or - client, really, I never answer to anyone after the job's done, and the job's almost done, now."

"What job?" Maddie asked. "Tom said you've been interrogating Shadow - asking people about weird things happening around town, about Doctor Robotnik. If this is some sort of - one of his schemes, Vector, I'll make you into a handbag."

"Look, I think it'll be easiest if I introduce her to you," Vector grumbled. "Doctor?"

Next to Sonic, Shadow's nose twitched as a woman stepped out of the back room. Sonic felt his blood freeze; his first thought that she was Doctor Robotnik in a wig and a dress - close-cropped silver or white hair, and a dark blue pantsuit, a lab coat thrown over it. It took a moment to see the differences - the angles of her face sharper, her body a little blockier, and her eyes dark - blue, Sonic guessed.

"...Maria?" Shadow whispered, and Sonic heart skipped a few beats, mind jumping through a thousand possible explanations at once.

A clone. A decoy. It was Ivo Robotnik - he'd just gotten a sex change operation (whether because he'd always been a woman, or was just trying to avoid notice, Sonic couldn't imagine). Time travel. A robot - why hadn't he thought of that first? Some sort of shape-shifting alien predator. Robotnik or Stone had shoved them into a virtual reality machine trying to trick them into thinking their dreams had come true. The Chaos Emeralds.

The woman's mouth crinkled up into a smile. "Hello, my little shadow," she murmured.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa," Sonic snapped, zipping to stand between Shadow and this - woman. "Maria Robotnik?"

"Doctor Maria Robotnik," she corrected. "Or Roubíček - I decided to go by our family's original name after all the unpleasantness - for obvious reasons."

"You're dead," Sonic pointed out. "Shadow said he saw you shot in front of him. So you're gonna need a hell of a story to convince us you're not a - clone, or an alien, or an evil alien clone."

Maria (or the thing pretending to be Maria), nodded, smile fading to something more somber. "You'd be Sonic," she said.

"Shadow's my brother," Sonic said, in case Maria didn't realize that, "so if you mess with him, you're messing with both of us."

"Then how about I explain everything to both of you?" Maria asked, gesturing at the empty chair. "Or - all three of you? You're Shadow's - adopted mother, right?"

"You can just say 'mother'," Maddie replied with a toothy grin. "Unless you're trying to make some sort of point."

"Oh, gosh - no! I was just being precise." Maria settled on the chair, crossing her legs. "I suppose - yes, I can see how that might have come across as…judgmental." She smiled briefly, a flash of teeth. "I never had a very good bedside manner; I mostly talk with senators and regulators, nowadays - fundraising, you know."

"Wait," Maddie murmured. "Roubíček - you don't mean from the Roubíček Foundation, do you?"

"The very same!" Maria said cheerily. "In fact, it was hearing from you and Mr. Starline that first led me to believe my brother might still be alive. I probably owe you more than a simple 'thank you' for that-"

"That's, uh, not coming out of my paycheck, is it, Doctor?" Vector asked.

Maria chuckled. "Of course not. The Roubíček Foundation is run by penny-pinchers to the last man, but I've more than enough money than I know what to do with myself. But - you wanted the story, Mister Wachowski. Since you know I'm supposed to be dead, you must know the broad strokes, how I was shot by government agents raiding our grandfather's lab, but - well, they had medics with them, and letting a little blonde girl bleed to death up there didn't sit well with a lot of people."

"Yeah? So why'd everyone say you were dead?" Sonic demanded.

"Because the medics figured the last thing I needed to put up with after all that was the U.S. military debating what to do with me - whether to stick me in a cage, or ostensibly let me go free but watch my every move for the rest of my life. They told the military I'd died, I changed my name and applied for emancipation. I began to tap my grandfather's trusts - the ones the government hadn't found and seized - and tried to figure out what to do with the few years I had left."

Sonic squinted at the middle-aged woman. "You look a lot more than a few years older than the kid Shadow grew up with."

Maria chuckled, shaking her head. "Therein is our family's fatal flaw - the belief that anything less then perfection is a failure. Our grandfather didn't achieve the perfect cure…so he wrote it off as a failure. I'm sure that sort of attitude served my cousin well - discarding every failed prototype, already thinking what he would do with his next project - but it served Grandpa poorly. He made progress, which helped me hang on a few years, and I used his money to fund further research, which helped me hang on a few more…and so on. The hardest part of it was convincing senators and ministers to provide funding - NIDS is so rare, and around that time, there wasn't - a lot of interest in researching treatments for auto-immune disorders."

She smiled, then, and Sonic was struck again, in the smug smile, with her resemblance to her cousin. "I had fun, you know, showing up in big, powerful men's offices, and explaining to them how big it would make the United States seem - destroying Death by defeating diseases no one thought it was possible to cure. And then they'd say I was too young to understand how complicated the world was, and I would bring out a folder detailing the briefings they attended on the Ark, how they signed off on the decision that led to the military murdering dozens of scientists, their families, and nearly killing a little blonde girl. And suddenly, they were pressuring subcommittees for the funding I needed, for me." She shook her head, still smiling. "Good times."

Sonic blinked at the woman, almost convinced she wasn't lying. He could see in her the brutality she shared with Doctor Robotnik, her cousin, and Shadow, her brother. But at the same time, the way she talked was like Shadow when he really cared about something. He'd told Sonic once, late at night, that she'd asked him to do his best to keep the people of Earth safe, for her, and he could easily imagine that girl taking Gerald Robotnik's money and fixing all the diseases she possibly could with it.

There was only one question remaining before Sonic was willing to believe this really was Shadow's big sister.

"So why'd you turn up now?" Sonic asked. "It's been-"

"Three years since Ark," Maria replied. "I know. But the facts were - confused. I had no reason to believe the hedgehog that stopped the Ark Crisis was Shadow, not when there were - dozens of aliens just like him, anthropomorphic animals, on the planet. It wasn't until Doctor Wachowski and Mister Starline made contact with the Roubíček Foundation that I realized it wasn't just a hedgehog, but a hybrid...just like my little brother, my little Shadow.

"So I found Vector, here, and I hired him to find the hedgehog. To confirm that it was Shadow, and not - his son, or some member of the alien race that contributed to his genes. To confirm my cousin wasn't lurking around somewhere, manipulating him for his own ends. And it seems that somehow in all of this, the facts might have gotten twisted around, because Vector told me you'd come to believe I was - Ivo, or god forbid, Grandpa."

Shadow, who'd been silent through all of this, dropped from his chair, standing shakily on his feet as he took a step toward Maria.

"Can I-" he asked.

"Of course," she said, and Shadow threw himself into Maria's lap, hugging the woman tightly, eyes closed, and Sonic could almost imagine him trying to pretend the intervening fifty years hadn't happened, that she was just his big sister and he was just her 'little shadow'.

He was happy for them - what else could he be? But it didn't mean he didn't feel a - twinge, frustration or something, seeing a ghost walk out of Shadow's past, alive after so many years of grieving her.

Chapter Text

The day was over. The Wachowskis had left with Maria (Robotnik), presumably to give Shadow and her time to really talk, and Wade had reopened the shop for the rest of the afternoon. Vector had retreated to his usual table, watching Wade, uncharacteristically quiet. This continued as Wade ushered out the rest of the customers, locked the door, and started sweeping up, several quiet minutes before Vector spoke up.

"Am I in trouble, Deputy?"

"What for?" Wade leaned the broom against a table to get a clear look at Vector, who had a slightly downturned look - snout drooping, watching Wade with wide eyes.

"Keeping all these secrets from you. Having Espio and Charmy pumping your kids for information. Feels sort of like I befriended you under false pretenses."

"Ah." Wade wedged the broom between a chair and table, and joined Vector at his table, sitting next to him. "I can sort of see that."

"Sorry, I-"

"I didn't say I agreed with it," Wade continued. "Just…I sort of get how you're feeling." He worried on the thoughts for a moment, before putting a hand on Vector's knee; Vector gave him a quick, startled glance. "You might need to talk to Silver and Tails - help them understand. But…" He looked to Vector. "What was all this about?"

"You heard the doctor-"

"No, I mean. Chatting me up. Befriending me. Dating me. You must have realized early on I basically didn't know anything."

"What do you think, Deputy? You're easy to talk to. Fun to flirt with. And whatever else I had going on, you understood me."

Wade let out a breath, unaware he'd been holding it. "Good," he decided.

"Good? I've been lying to you for months, Deputy-"

"Look, there's a difference between what you were doing and - Rachel's ex-boyfriend. For one…it's pretty clear you weren't out to get anyone hurt. And another-" He grinned at Vector. "No one told you to start dating me. That was just my - natural charm, right?"

Vector chuckled, voice still a little weak. "Yeah - that was all you."

"So maybe don't beat yourself up about it - I sure as heck don't plan on doing it."

"...Alright," Vector said after a moment. "Just - I don't want you to…resent me for all this."

Wade snorted. "Resent you? Vector, you helped give me the motivation to do something I've been - too afraid to tell myself I wanted for years. Silver thinks you're pretty awesome, and Tails loves you-"

"Does he?" Vector asked. "It's really hard to be sure."

"He helped me make your mp3 player, so yeah, he does." Wade paused, running several conversations over the last couple of months back through his head. "Or at least approves of you and me - I think he might have been trying to be my wingman."

"Damn," Vector chuckled. "I thought I'd have to do a little more work to win over your kids."

"Are you disappointed?" Wade asked. "Did you want some - family-movie-style montage of them trying to drive you away?"

"Nnooo," Vector replied. "Just - it all feels a little too neat."

"We could go have a tearful reconciliation with Tom."

Vector narrowed his eyes at Wade. "You're making fun of me," he accused.

"Not - well, a little," Wade admitted, leaning a little closer to Vector. "It sounds like you're looking for problems when - everything worked out. The boys love you - I love you - and you've earned a few points in Shadow's book for helping reunite him with Maria. Which…he won't admit it, but that probably got you a few points in Sonic's book, too. Heck, we help Starline flesh out his and Maddie's sexual health pamphlet, you could have approval from practically all the aliens in Green Hills."

Vector scowled at Wade. "I thought we weren't doing that."

Wade shrugged. "Sorry. You're just-"

Vector groaned, head falling back. "Fine, yes, I'm getting up in my own head." He stood up. "Alright, let's clean this place and get out of here. I've got two kids to feed, and then I got a phone date with this single dad I've been seeing, because it'd be irresponsible for either of us to leave our kids home alone."

"Okay," Wade agreed, continuing to work with Vector as a pleasant backdrop. "So, what are you planning to do now? With your big payout from the Doctor?"

"I wasn't lying when I said I could do some work on the internet," Vector replied. "So I'm going to keep up the work, a bit. Maybe take some time to really parent - join the PTA, maybe." His gaze flicked to Wade. "Why?"

"Just curious." Wade shrugged.

"You aren't worried I was gonna leave, are you?" Vector grabbed Wade around the middle, setting his chin on Wade's shoulder. "May have been planning to get out of here once the job was done at the beginning, but - liked seeing the kids settle. Got a little settled myself. Found myself - pretty fond of a couple of people here."

"A couple?"

"Well, one a little more than the others," Vector amended. "Runs a pretty brilliant coffee shop - don't know if you've heard of it. Chaos Coffee?"

"Sounds familiar," Wade agreed, leaning back into the warmth of the man behind him. "Still." He broke away from the embrace to stow the cleaning supplies, but found himself lingering near Vector.

(It was way too early to suggest the - thought he'd had on Vector's complaint about having to return to his own home. Wade wasn't certain he wanted to suggest it, yet, without even considering the boys, but. It was a thought he was having about keeping Vector closer.)

"Go on, Deputy," Vector said at last. "I'll talk to you later."

Wade stepped in and kissed the crocodile, who flushed just a little, but grinned as Wade went to his car and they went their separate ways.

Silver and Tails were waiting for Wade when he got home, sitting on the couch, both examining Tails' tablet.

"Guys?"

"Hey, Dad!" Tails took to the air, gripping his tablet tightly as he circled Wade. "Sit down - we've got a few things to talk to you about."

"Oh, do you?"

Wade took his seat, giving Tails his full attention, even though he figured there was a decent chance this presentation was (he glanced at Silver, still seated attentively on the couch) them explaining why they needed a snowmobile, or a dog.

"Now, after some discussion, Silver and I have decided we want to help with the shop," Tails announced.

"I really appreciate the offer, sweetie, but like I said-"

"I wouldn't have to do prep!" Silver piped up. "I could order all the stuff for you! You said Espio's helping track all your receipts and stuff, so I could do that."

"And I could help you research decent point-of-sales systems and scan the building for bugs," Tails added.

"If I need an exterminator, I'll-" And Wade paused, remembering there was more than one meaning for the word 'bug'. "What do you mean, bugs? Walters said Stone didn't leave anything in the building."

"Mm," Tails replied, and just raised one eyebrow.

Wade's stomach - sank. "Oh. You think G.U.N.-"

"Mmhm."

"Oh God," Wade groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Vector and I - we were flirting in there, because I thought we were alone-"

"You see?" Tails retorted. "You need someone whose job it is to keep the government off your back."

"Most coffee shops don't need a dedicated anti-surveillance department," Wade pointed out, before taking in Tails' posture - ears alert, hands tight on his tablet, and realized it must have ben really bothering him. "How about we take some time after closing this weekend to check?"

"Okay!" Tails rose slightly before remembering himself and dropping back down to eye level.

"What about me?" Silver asked.

"You can sit in while I work on the ordering until you think you can handle it yourself - alright?"

Silver nodded eagerly, grinning.

"I guess I'll have to pay you something for helping out," Wade mused, "and I've got no idea what coffee shops are paying their cybersecurity specialists nowadays."

"But we get to help out, right?" Silver insisted.

"Yeah."

"Cool! I'm gonna tell Espio! And Sonic!"

Wade watched Silver zoom toward his room, shaking his head. "That kid gets excited by the weirdest stuff."

"Well, you gotta remember he grew up in a blasted wasteland constantly suffering from famine," Tails replied, setting down on the couch. "Things like inventory logistics are still a novelty to him."

"And what about you?" Wade pressed, slinging an arm around Tails.

"I don't like people messing with my family," Tails muttered.

"But Vector's okay - right?" Wade asked; Tails hadn't expressed any objections so far, but Wade wasn't willing to assume he knew what Tails was thinking, even if he thought Tails was in favor.

"Vector's fine," Tails replied, tails flicking out to the side, at ease. "I was glad you made a friend - you always said I needed to make friends with kids my own age."

"...Uh," Wade started, "I'm not sure if I was clear, earlier, when I told you me and Vector were, uh, close, but-"

"I know you're dating him," Tails retorted, rolling his eyes. "I just meant - Dr. Wachowski and Tom are friends, right? It's the same thing. Except I guess you're not married. Do you think you'll get married some day?"

"No idea, buddy," Wade replied, tugging Tails to his side. "Just because two people get along well doesn't mean they want to get married. We'd probably have to live together first, and talk about it-" He broke off before he could say he didn't even know if Vector was the sort of guy who'd want to get married, because he knew the answer already.

"Are they going to move in?" Tails asked.

"Well, that'd take some figuring out - you and Silver would have to share your rooms-"

"Or I could help design an addition!" Tails interrupted. "I was reading about architecture the other day, and it's just like designing a new device, really - all physics and materials science-"

"Let's - put a pin in that, honey," Wade replied, reaching his hand up to ruffle the fur on Tails' head. "I've only been seeing him for a little while, and we've got a loan for the coffee shop to worry about before hiring someone to build out my house, alright?"

"And you mean that, Daddy, right?" Tails asked, nudging Wade's side. "You're not just saying it?"

"No, the minute I decide we're expanding, I'm asking you to do draw up the plans," Wade agreed, pulling Tails into his lap for a proper hug. "You're the smartest person I know, so you ever want to do something like this, ask - I might have to have, like, professionals sign off on it, because you can't do some stuff if people with - licenses haven't had a look at it. So I guess, if you get certified as an architect before I decide on this, you can just do it."

"I hope it doesn't take that long," Tails said, the first indication he felt strongly one way or another about Vector.

"...me, too," Wade agreed. He may not have told Vector he was pretty sure he was in love with him, and might not have felt comfortable telling Tails about it, first, but it was a start, admitting he wouldn't mind if they got to the 'living together' part fairly quickly.

"I'm glad you met him," Tails repeated. "I'm glad he seems to make you happy. I wouldn't mind if you got married and I had to share my room."

It was as close to a rousing endorsement Wade would get out of Tails - more than enough encouragement to let him conclude the boys were on board with this relationship - something he had yet to disclose to parents, or even Rachel.

He decided to raise that particular question later that night, when, with a free minute, he called Vector.

"I mean, I've written a few letters to my parents myself," Vector replied. "Got no idea how I'm gonna send 'em, or get a response. Shame the only people who could set up a regular mail service are the last ones I'd trust with my personal mail. So I figure tell 'em - unless they're the sorts to get upset about you dating a man. At which point I say fuck 'em."

"No, they're…" Wade struggled to find the words. He'd had a few conversations with his parents over the years. It'd taken a while to get his mom to understand; his father had, one Thanksgiving, suggested he understood more than he'd ever let on, confiding there'd never been anyone before Wade's mother, and he didn't see there being anyone after. "Cool, I guess. My mom'll be pleased - even with the boys, she worried I'd be lonely if I never found someone."

"Ha!" Vector barked. "The voice of a woman who never had to raise two kids at once."

"She means well," Wade allowed. "She'll ask you if you want more kids."

"We've got four," Vector retorted. "Also, neither of us are equipped to carry children, so we'd have to adopt, and I don't know what'd be harder - finding another abandoned Mobian kid around here, or convincing the government a Mobian'd be a fit caretaker."

"...Do you want more kids?" Wade asked hesitantly.

"I'm set, Deputy," Vector replied easily. "Got no interest in giving the kids more of a numerical advantage over us."

"But the 2.5 kids, the white picket fence-"

"You humans got funny ways of saying things," Vector muttered. "But - give it a year or two, Deputy - see how things go, eh?"

"Well, if you ever want to move in, give us some warning so Tails can design an expansion to the house."

"Ha!" Vector snorted. "That kid of yours is something else, I ever tell you that?"

"Maybe," Wade allowed. "They want to help around the shop - although I think Silver just wants a chance to talk to Espio more. What do you pay a pre-teen cybersecurity specialist?"

"Whatever you think he's worth, I guess," Vector replied. "If you can keep your boys from mentioning the minimum wage to mine, I'd appreciate it."

"How long do you think that's gonna last?"

"A couple months, if I'm lucky. So - how are you?"

"You saw me - a few hours ago."

"So? You could've been kidnapped by an evil robot hedgehog Stone made to get revenge on Sonic, or learned that your son is - like, prophesized to save the world from a great evil."

"Which one?" Wade asked, before realizing it didn't really matter. "We're fine. I - is it dumb to say I missed you?"

"Probably - but I've never heard anyone claim love is smart," Vector chuckled. "I miss you, too, though part of it's just having someone around whose major concern isn't Pokemon."

"Come on - Pokemon are actually sort of cool," Wade replied. "There's a couple of ones that look like - gators or crocodiles."

"Your favorite?" Vector asked.

"Of course," Wade, whose favorite Pokemon was Vulpix, replied.

"Aww, you're lying to me," Vector crooned. "I'm touched. You're aware you don't gotta act like gators are what - does it for you all the time, Deputy. I mean - as a whole, your species isn't particularly attractive to me."

"Thanks," Wade muttered.

"Come on - you know what I mean!" Vector protested. "You are an attractive man, Deputy - I think I've made that clear. Just…a little bit out of my orbit."

"Fair enough," Wade agreed. "I was - joking, a little."

"The rest of you was worried, though," Vector said. "It's alright - I got my own insecurities."

"What insecurities?" Wade demanded.

"That's for another night, Deputy. Just rest assured, you're helping - being yourself, caring about me…the amount you care about me."

"You do the same," Wade admitted. "Caring about me…the amount you care about me."

"Good to hear, that we're…on the same page."

Wade grinned at the phone. "Yeah - good."

"Come on, Deputy - I know you got polysyllabic words in there somewhere," Vector wheedled.

"I've got a name."

"Alright, Wade Deputy Whipple-"

"That's not my middle-"

"I wanna know how you're doing, what you're thinking-"

"I'm thinking I had no idea what I was getting into, agreeing to date an alien crocodile," Wade retorted, rolling his eyes. "Everyone would assume those teeth are the problem."

"Well, it's all metaphorical," Vector said. "Once I get my teeth into something-"

"That and your terrible sense of humor," Wade concluded.

"My heart!" Vector protested. "An emotional attack by my boyfriend!"

Wade snickered.

"Just you watch," Vector growled, "one day I'll pinpoint a flaw you have, and never let you forget it."

"It's not a flaw, it's an - idiosyncrasy," Wade protested. "One of the reasons I love you."

"...Ah," Vector replied after a moment just too long for either of them to pretend Vector hadn't heard it. "Good to know. I suppose, in light of that, I'd be forced to admit you've got…idiosyncrasies, as well."

"G - good?"

"Now, I suppose I'll let you get back to the very important things you've got ahead of you tonight," Vector continued, "and I'll see you around, Deputy."

"Good night," Wade replied, too cowardly to repeat what he'd said earlier; in his defense, Vector didn't say he loved Wade back, even though Wade was pretty certain he did.

But that was a problem for another day, another adventure - it was good enough that they'd found each other, and ended up where they were now.

Chapter Text

Amy Rose

Amy took a deep breath, and when her thoughts refused to settle, another.

"I think it's hilarious that you do this," Rouge said from the couch.

"Shush," Amy replied, taking another calming breath.

"No, seriously. Everyone wants a piece of Amy Rose, Earth's first alien actress, but it doesn't matter how good or bad their ideas are, the deciding factor on whether she's on board with your project is the result of a Tarot reading."

"That's not true," Amy replied, picking up her deck so she could shuffle the cards. "They have to get through my agent, first, which weeds out all the skeevy directors, and, uh, Disney, apparently?"

"I've done some reading," Rouge said lightly, waving a hand at Amy. "I just think you don't want to be hooking your wagon to that star."

"I'm not complaining," Amy reassured, deciding she'd do a quick layout - nothing complicated. It was usually good enough for a first impression; she usually only followed up with a more in-depth reading if the reading was ambiguous. "I was just making a note of it."

"Speaking of things we're making a note of," Rouge added as Amy continued to shuffle her cards. "We've said no to a lot of projects lately - like the last month or so. I thought you weren't taking breaks until you figured out if you're going to college or want to do something more productive with your life. Not that I'm complaining - I'd just like some advance notice before I return to a life of crime."

"It's - my readings weren't good," Amy explained, turning over her first card.

The Moon.

Not the worst card, but one that had made frequent appearances in her recent readings - and since the Moon could represent deception, error, and hidden enemies, Amy had decided there was no such thing as an excess of caution, here.

"Not good? How?"

Amy flipped a second card.

The Devil.

"Well, this, for instance," Amy said, waving at the card.

"Aren't these all metaphorical?" Rouge asked as she ambled over to peer over Amy's shoulder. "Like - Death doesn't mean 'death', and all that?"

"Sure, but the Devil is giving me some bad vibes, here. With the Moon, it's doubling down on impending disaster. In the right context, sure, it's about empowerment, but I'm seeing - I don't know, a male figure who's both excessively controlling and wildly unrestrained in their passion."

"...The director and producer of this project are women."

"Well, maybe the - uh-oh."

"Uh-oh? What's Uh-oh? You didn't get Death, did you?"

"I mean, it's not exactly - although, given this whole reading it wouldn't be good, but…no. It isn't. It's sort of…worse?"

Rouge squinted at the third card. "The Tower?"

"Upheaval. Catastrophe. Destruction."

Rouge's brow furrowed. "So…a career-ender?"

"I don't know!" Amy protested. "I've been getting readings like this all the time for over a month!"

"...Like all the time, or just when it comes to new projects?" Rouge asked.

Amy let out a long, shaky breath. "...All the time."

"And you don't think we should be worried about that?"

"What good would that do?" Amy retorted. "If it's not going away, I doubt there's anything we can do about it."

"Well - tell somebody. The…well, obviously not G.U.N., they're clearly not equipped to handle problems, but somebody. Didn't a couple of Mobians deals with the doomsday weapon the U.S. government put in orbit? We could get in touch with them…wherever they are."

"Maybe," Amy agreed, picking up the cards and shuffling them back together. "But all I've got are - impressions. Destruction, the Devil, and a celestial object? How do you put that all together into a coherent threat anyone can do anything about? No, I'm - we'll try not to worry about it."

"If we're not worrying about some impending apocalypse, can we consider picking up one of these Netflix projects so we can eat?"

"Alright, sure - did you have good feelings about any of these?"

And they moved on from the conversation, because like Amy said - what was the point in worrying?

Eclipse the Darkling

Shadow Wachowski shoved a handful of coffee beans in his mouth and crunched them aggressively as he stared at the sky. It was finally warm enough to sit on the roof at night, which was always a relief, as it was the most reliable way to avoid the rest of his family.

He loved them, he did, and there was no getting around the fact that Sonic was one of the few people on the planet who could understand what he'd been through.

But he'd been short-tempered lately, ever since shortly before Maria had tracked them all down and made a reappearance. He'd had near-constant headaches, inexplicable mood swings, and these horrible intrusive thoughts.

So at the end of a long day of school, and Sonic, and the rest of his family, he wanted nothing more than some time to himself, doing the most he could for his headache, and just turning his brain off.

Except even that wasn't working right now, as his thoughts wouldn't quiet down.

If he were, say, twenty percent more reckless, he'd ask Sonic if he knew if there were any parties this weekend and see if he could be affected enough by alcohol to shut his brain up. But that would involve a party, which meant other people, and Shadow usually had to ignore the non-intrusive urge to punch his peers in the dick when he got tired of being around them, so he wasn't about to mix a potential loss of self-restraint with the dismissive, selfish, occasionally violent whispers that kept popping up in the back of his thoughts.

He was this close to asking Maddie to get him an appointment with the therapist she said they could talk to whenever something was bothering them.

But it would require admitting to someone he was going crazy - not just having difficulty dealing with life, but hearing voices and wild mood swings and oh god weren't those the symptoms of schizophrenia?

He was broken, not even capable of claiming the title of 'Ultimate Lifeform' the Robotniks had saddled him with, because he was crazy, flawed, failing his creator and his family-

'Untrue,' the thought came to his mind. It somehow sounded the same in his mind as his other intrusive thoughts, except its tone, usually dismissive, self-centered, and violent, was gentler. Kinder.

"Please stop," Shadow muttered. "I don't want to have an argument with the voices in my head. I want to have normal teenage problems like whether I can fit Shop class in the rest of my schedule and my brother being annoying-"

'Pft, your brother's awesome.'

"I am trying to wallow, here, so if you could stop arguing with me about Sonic-"

'Sonic? Who's Sonic?'

Shadow sat up slowly, his general frustration with the voice in his head giving way to a wary suspicion, that the voice wasn't quite as imagined as he'd come to conclude.

"My brother."

'He isn't your brother - you're not even the same species.'

"Yeah - and what species is that?" Shadow demanded, now almost certain. If the voice could tell him new information, something he didn't know-

'Black Arms - like me!'

"...And who are you?"

'Your brother, obviously. My name's Eclipse.'

Doctor Ivo Robotnik

When Ivo came to, he was on his back, and a child was hovering just at eye level. They had silver or white hair, glowing red eyes, and a black robe or dress that billowed ominously around them.

"Okay, who are you and do you look like you escaped from some insufferable anime exploring the philosophy of Cyberspace?" Ivo demanded.

The child bobbed in place, frowning slightly. "I was supposed to provide you guidance to allow your transition to understanding your circumstances to pass as peacefully as possible," they replied.

"Well, whoever gave you that job vastly underestimated the speed of my train of thought," Ivo retorted, rising off the bed he'd apparently been lying on. The child bobbed back up to eye level, still floating with no sign of support or propulsion. "Still haven't gotten a name from you - unless you want me to call you Lain. I could do that - might even save the effort of having to remember it."

"If that is your desire, I will have to acquiesce, but my designation is Sage."

"Sage?" Ivo chuckled. "You know, Sage was the name I gave to my…experimental artificial intelligence design."

"Yes," Sage replied, bowing. "It is an honor to meet you, Father."

"Fa - oh, okay, someone else obviously handled your programming, because there is no way I would program you to call me 'Father' unless my plan was to abandon you on the Club Penguin forums to fend for yourself. Still…" Ivo looked around his surroundings, which could have come from any repository of generic hospital room assets for some cut-rate VR headset. "Why have I been dumped into what looks like the backrooms of a poorly-made Metaverse neighborhood?"

"Ah," Sage murmured, drooping slightly in an affectation of - remorse, Ivo guessed. "That was the purpose of acclimatizing you to your environment, here. To-"

"Provide information in a measured way to prevent the subject from being overwhelmed when you reveal his awareness is being filtered through a virtual-reality platform. I know; I built the framework for this protocol. Why is my awareness being filtered through a virtual-reality platform, Sage?"

"...because there was no longer a viable biological platform through which to filter your consciousness," Sage admitted.

"I figured," Ivo muttered. "I wake up, my last memory being preparing to face that hedgehog and his buddies on the Space Station Ark, and my surroundings are this half-Matrix, half-Truman Show bullshit, and the conclusion practically wrote itself. So I'm dead."

"From a philosophical standpoint-"

"The body containing Ivo Robotnik's original brain is kaput," Ivo corrected. "Gone. Done. An ex-Robotnik. Correct? Did I at least murder a couple of the hedgehogs? Or the fox, at least? The blue one seemed especially attached to him."

"I'm afraid all of the members of the party that congregated to interfere with your plans for the Space Station Ark survived. Project Shadow and the Echidna survived, as well. You were, in fact, the sole fatality of the Ark Incident."

Ivo rolled his eyes (or the representation of his eyes in this VR environment). "So Stone - I'm presuming Stone is behind all this - gathered all the electro-chemical records he had of my consciousness and ran them through my AI platform to get a computer program which will act something like Ivo Robotnik, if Ivo Robotnik no longer had an endocrine system to influence his thoughts. Am I right?"

"He also constructed a physical vessel you could pilot with your consciousness," Sage said. "We - I - dubbed it the Robo-Robotnik. Part of my programming was to guide you in learning how to integrate with it sufficiently seamlessly to control it as if it were your natural body."

"No," Ivo muttered. "Robo-Robotnik? It sounds like something out of a bad comic book. Ivo Robotnik is dead - there is no doubt whatever about that. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate."

"Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol," Sage said.

"Yes," Ivo agreed. "Good to hear you're on the ball, at least. So if Ivo Robotnik is dead, let him stay dead. They called me the Egg-Man at G.U.N. - let's stick with that. Let the Egg-Man rise from the ashes of Doctor Ivo Robotnik and become the nightmare those clowns with the U.S. military always said I was. Now! Where's the exit? I want to get started learning how to pilot the prosthetic body you made for me - nothing's worse than embarrassing yourself during a big entrance because you don't know how to work your legs."