Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The world that has the legendary Sonic the Hedgehog running around has seen quite a lot. Of course it’s been the site of some legendary incidents, but one must never forget that for every speedster running around, genius inventing the next great device, or madman trying to cause trouble, there are thousands, millions of normal, everyday citizens. Those with no great speed, or strength, or anything in particular. They are simply…people. People trying to live from one day to the next in peace. Perhaps not important to anyone but their families and friends…and for many, dare one say most, that is more than enough. They are happy being normal citizens, and having only that.

But what of those that do not have such things? Perhaps they would at least have the memories, or mementos of the past? But what if, just what if…

…they didn’t have those, either? What would they be? Such a creature would be less than a ghost, wouldn’t you say? There are rumors, from time to time. Tales told by those who’ve heard tell from whispers on the wind, or maybe taken by conspiracies, or maybe just a good story. Rumors of people without such things. Not just orphans, no. But of people that exist that…don’t. Not really. No family to speak of. No lineage to pursue. None who remember anything- because there is nothing to remember at all. 

And yet they are there. They exist, when they did not. Should not. In a way, still do not.

These are tales of just a few of these individuals. That people see, interact with, but do not, cannot know. Not truly. 

These are tales of the Ghosts With No Pasts.

Central City. One of the most populated cities on the Islands. A metropolitan melting pot of young and old, where everyone who’s anyone congregates! Where dreams can be made…

…if you had them. Some people did, hoping for stardom, and some did not, merely looking to avail themselves of the many amenities therein.

However, the mongoose rummaging through an alleyway dumpster had nothing to say about that. She was busy trying to dig out a perfectly good backpack she’d just seen tossed away. Sure, it only had one working strap, and it looked a bit stained, but it was perfectly fine! She could use it to carry her belongings just fine…the few she had. 

It had been…she hadn’t been sure. Several months since she’d shown up. Disheveled and confused. So very very confused. She hadn’t had a lot of time to sit there and be confused, however- something had been causing a lot of panic, and a lot of trouble. She’d never seen what it was. She’d instead ran off, far away from the sound.

She was good at running, fortunately. And it had taken her only a few seconds to realize that she was in a city she didn’t recognize. ‘All I remember was that weird white light…’ and then she had been taken from her home to…here. Wherever here was.

Oh, it had started out alright, if shocking. She had felt something was wrong from the start, so when she investigated a nearby newsstand, it wasn’t the most horrible shock to not recognize much of anything. Though it did rattle her for quite some time. But, regardless of her feelings, freaking out wouldn’t do anything. Running away would be…bad, especially when she recognized absolutely nothing. So she tried to take it slow, and ask some questions. 

She’d quickly learned that asking about the Freedom Fighters, or the Kingdom, had people look at her like she was a bit addled. Which, considering her state, perhaps she was. But that wasn’t important. After some time asking questions which got nowhere, barring confirming the existence of some friends she couldn’t reach right now- they were away doing something important apparently on some islands- she’d sought to find some manner of employment. Nothing long term, just something to survive in this strange city while she got her bearings and waited. Nothing was like it should be…but all she had to do was wait while her friends did their thing, right?

That had been months ago. And one thing she’d quickly learned was that as nice as people could be, no one was willing to hire someone off the street, with no viable experience, no history, no credentials, no documents as to who she was…just a name and a face. A name that she was finally beginning to acknowledge had no meaning to anyone.

The Mongoose finally yanked out the stubborn backpack with a last grunt of effort. “Oof!” she grunted as she fell flat on her backside- but she had a small grin of victory at her prize. “Ha!” Her hair was matted and stuck together in clumps, having only been able to wash in fountains under cover of night avoiding any policemen. Of course, no job meant no money. No money meant no place to stay. She had spent more than one night under the stars, but she’d also spent more than one night in comfortable bedrooms. She missed them…

…but she also missed everything else. Her grin faded as she realized how far she’d fallen. ‘Getting happy over…this? What’s happening to me?’ She let out a sigh as she allowed herself to flop back, looking over at the few meagre possessions she now had- all scavenged from various junk or throwaway. Some old shoes that fit her, the remains of her old vest, now tattered and torn…a small ring, likely a faux jewelry piece she could perhaps pawn off for a couple of bucks somehow. A rubix cube she’d picked up just to have something to entertain herself with.

‘I…is this really it?’ she lamented to herself. ‘I’m so stupid. I should’ve been out there trying to…to do something! Find my way back home…’ But- ‘But here I am. A 'superstar' vagrant,’ she mockingly said inwardly, cutting off her own inner response. ‘I…I’m not sure what happened, but it’s taken them so long…’

‘...what if they never come? This place is so different from the world I remember…could they even help? Would they want to?’ With her speed, she could try to find them. It’d make waves. She could get their attention one way or another, couldn’t she?

She could. So then, why didn’t she?

Sullenly, she lifted herself up. Began filling her strange pack. Deep down, she knew why. She knew exactly why.

‘I’m such a coward.’ And that was the truth of it, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to risk confirming that whatever strange adjustments had taken over in this weird, less-threatened world, they had taken Sonic over, too. Taken Sonic, and Tails, and everyone who WAS here. That there was no search and rescue attempt. That everyone had forgotten. That…

‘...that everyone’s gone.’ She wasn’t sure how. It just felt so sick, so ultimate, so final...but even as she wanted to believe otherwise, the little she knew about Zones, universes and all that usually mentioned some kind of counterpart? Maybe there was a version of herself here, but…if so, she was no superstar. She had at least the library to thank for that. For all it was any kind of ‘thanks’. 

No line of a ‘Mongoose’ family that she recognized in any public data. No nothing. As far as she could tell…

She, in no way noticeable, existed here. If she did at all. Her old home didn’t. Her kingdom didn’t. Her family, only some of her friends…

…and no Ash. She quickly dashed that thought away before the tears began to flow again. Picking herself up, she slung the old backpack on herself, and began to trundle off. 

There was a nice little restaurant a few blocks down that usually did alright enough to give her a couple of leftovers if she looked sad enough. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get a snack.

Walking while doing her best to ignore the concerned stares around her, she soon came around to a large four-way intersection. It was the throughway to downtown, she’d learned soon, and often had a number of…interesting sorts milling around. Doomsayers, vendors of…questionable repute, and other sorts. It was…colorful. But she had to get to-

Suddenly, she was taken off guard by hearing something she hadn’t in a long while. The dulcet, sweet tones of a live instrument. ‘Whoa…that’s a heck of a sax,’ she realized. She paused, almost immediately closing her eyes to let the sound through her. It was something soulful. Something powerful. It was only moments before she pinpointed the source.

To her surprise, it was an Overland- no, Human. She had to remember that. Here they were and only were humans. And this one in particular…dark skin, scraggly hair with a thick beard…he looked a touch tired around the eyes, too, but she could see a resilience in them. Dressed in a long coat as well as rundown sneakers, he looked just as vagabond as she did…

…but it was clear that he knew himself in that music. That saxophone sang so beautifully, and before she knew it, she had sidled up to him. She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed, but before either could, or say anything, she’d started joining in without even realizing it.

He’d been playing for some time today, but the tips hadn’t been flowing. Something was taking him off his game, and he wasn’t sure what. But a dollar earned is a dollar earned, and while he had nothing but his daddy’s saxophone and the clothes on his back now, for him that was enough to keep powering through day by day.

To his credit, he’d barely jerked for a moment when he heard the rhythmic, incredible scat tones that she let flow up, down and around them- it was something else. She carried the tone when she needed to, she let back when he was ready to push and let it out all as he did when the finale came. The energy he had was something he hadn’t felt since his prime!

But all too quickly, it was over, and the man made sure to look at his partner properly. He wasn’t too surprised to see an islander next to him, but what did take him off-balance a bit was her appearance. She was just as destitute as he was, clearly- but the look on her face told him she wasn’t just trying to horn in on his tips. No, no. That smile…that was someone who loved what they were doing.

…well, he certainly couldn’t be mad at that. Especially not when her singing had gotten him a sax case full of bills. “You’ve got a heck of a voice there, miss.” He spoke in a low timbre, this voice a light bass compared to his own saxophone. “Not quite sure I’ve heard anything like it before.”

“...thanks.” The smile on her face turned from content to sad, and she looked at him with her own tired eyes. “Y-your music was really good. Do you mind if I…?” she motioned next to him.

“After that? You go right on ahead,” he offered graciously, and she slumped down next to him. They were out of breath, but even as the glow started to fade, the feelings remained. “You sing often?”

“Used to.” Not like she could say she was a star performer. She wasn’t, not here.

Hank wasn’t the best at reading people, but he could tell there was a story there. One that wasn’t the happiest. Well, for someone that’d gotten him this much in less than a day? He could do something to help. “Well, used to or not…think my dad would have my hide if a lady helped me out like that and I didn’t at least treat her to dinner.”

She turned to him in mild surprise- had she really not expected anything? “Me?”

He nodded, patting his full case, which he quickly closed now. “Don’t see why not. Whatcha got a hankering for? I’ll pay.”

She huffed, and this time the smile she wore was a bit fuller.

Chapter Text

Snip, snip, snip. The sounds of the scissors was kind of soothing. ‘This ain’t so bad.’ She thought. Especially if the young squirrelette in the chair was any indication. “Thank you SO much for this, Ms. Rabeau,” the customer gushed. “You’re the only one who gets my bangs just right. I need tonight to be PERFECT.”

The young rabbit touching up her hair just smiled easily. “Not a problem, shug. You just make sure that guy of yours knows you put in the effort to look good for him, am I right?” They both shared a laugh, and the young rabbit resumed her duties. Never did she, really, think she’d ACTUALLY get the opportunity to be a hairdresser, but here she was. It wasn’t quite with the people she wanted, nor in the context she wanted, but it was a chance to ‘live the dream’ for a bit. After all, you never knew when it’d be over. 

‘They’ll come find me. They’re strong enough.’

A ferret girl named Winifred had found her on the street one day. Lost, confused, and according to her, babbling ‘weirdness’. Winifred, better known as Winnie, had taken a bit of pity on the girl and had allowed the rabbit to room with her, turning what was her old ‘computer room’ into a bedroom for the lost young lady. Naturally, the young rabbit was grateful, and when discussing a way to repay her, had started simply cooking for the both of them- to which Winnie was quite surprised to learn that the rabbit knew her way around a kitchen; a welcome relief to the hairdresser, as she had, by her own admission ‘survived mostly on take-out and instant dinners’.

It had given the young rabbit time to acclimate, to understand. She had been…distraught for a while. Disoriented? Not really. She’d been involved in enough weirdness to deduce she wasn’t home. Not nearly. But recent events had told her the truth of how trying to push forth as she was would shake out. 

So, she decided to wait. ‘They’ll come find me.’  Winnie was pleasant company, even. She was funny, and empathetic, and when she had mentioned needing a job, Winnie had immediately suggested she try her hand at Winnie’s own place of work. They could at least use a cleaner, and they were shorthanded.

Imagine their delight when she mentioned that she could do hair! They’d tested her on a mannequin- and hired her then and there. Off the books, technically, but that was their little secret. The young rabbit couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t like it was a bad part of town- the whole place was rather lovely, actually. Sunset City was its name, and it indeed had lovely views out over the water in the evening. However, that didn’t mean that everyone and everything was hunky dory. The owner had pricey bills to pay, and so paying a new employee ‘under the table’ was quietly ignored. It saved a bit of money to keep the business afloat, and the young rabbit still got a bit of spending power.

Honestly, she wasn’t used to currency. Back…then, she never really had to deal with it as part of the Freedom Fighters. She more or less just asked for things and got them, usually with gratitude. She wasn’t a spendthrift OR a miser, just… ‘I don’t even know what I’d spend it on. I’m not confident in alla that. I’m not…’ she quashed that thought before it could rear its ugly head again.

The fact that she didn’t have anything to her name meant that she kept it stowed away the old-fashioned way- in a lockbox, under her bed. Not like Winnie would ever take it. She hoped. She doubted. But either way, the young rabbit was doing alright.

She was surviving. Roof over her head, place to get money, dare she say even the start of friends. The other hairdressers had learned her name easily enough, even praised it! Said it sounded ‘classy’.

Not that they’d find anything if they searched. She’d know. She tried, online. What she saw…she wasn’t strong enough to keep trying. Just like she wasn't strong enough before.

But that didn’t matter. Not really. Because she can’t go out looking for answers by herself. It’s dangerous out there. Well, it was always dangerous, but for her now, especially. She knows the truth now. It hurts, but not as much as it hurt when-

“Miss?” Oh. Gracious, she was off in her own world for a moment there- but somehow she’d still managed to do the squirrelette’s hair flawlessly. 'I've done it enough times by now- muscle memory, must be.' “Something wrong?" the girl asked. "You, uh, kinda finished up and just started, uh, staring quietly for a bit there…”

“Oh, sorry there, hun,” she quickly dismissed. “Just…some old memories come back to me, is all.”

“Oh? Well, um…I hope you feel better?” she proffered shyly. “I mean, you looked kinda sad there, so-”

And just like that, the smile was back on her face, and she shoved the feelings down. “Oh, don’t you worry any,” she dismissed. “A little melancholy happens from time to time for me. I’ll be fine, you just focus on winning over that crush of yours, aight?”

There was a brief pause as the girl searched her face- she was a sweetie, exacting desires about hair care or not- and the hairdresser put up as calm and smiling a face as she could bring herself to make. It didn't seem to fool the girl, though. “Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it any?” she asked, worried.

Sweet thing, she was. Strong spirit, or at least she cared. “Naw, I’ll be alright," she waved off. "You get along now, okay? Make sure to pay at the front!” Watching her go, the young bunny couldn’t help but sigh softly. She hoped that girl got her fella and stuck by him so long as he did her. Didn’t abandon him like she did, didn’t lose everything she had out of some vain desire to be less than she was because she was too weak to-

“Bunnie?” she heard one of her workmates call- an older, pink mouse that went by Gertie. She was one of the more experienced hairdressers here. “You need some time alone?” She always was perceptive, too.

Bunnie Rabbot sighed, and nodded. “I…I’m gonna take my break.” The thoughts were creeping back up on her again.

Gertie simply smiled softly and nodded. “We’ll be right here when you’re ready.” Gertie was a soft soul, who’d apparently had a number of experiences in life that let her read people all too easily. She’d backed Bunnie’s ‘application’ when she’d first approached alongside Winnie, apparently guessing well that she needed it. She’d also wagered that Bunnie had ‘suffered a lot of loss’, but she hadn’t guessed at more than that, stating it wasn’t her place to pry- which Bunnie appreciated. She wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to withstand any more questioning.

She went around the back, into the rear exit that went into a small alleyway. It wasn’t even a dingy one; it was pretty clean- despite the dumpster that was nearby. The girls and the small bakery a couple doors down were the only ones that really used it, anyway, and them only at the end of the day. So, it was perfect for being alone at times.

Which is why Bunnie allowed herself to slump down on the wall, taking a deep breath of air as she closed her eyes for a moment. 

‘Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything’s so wrong. Everything I do is wrong. Everything I SEE is wrong, I just-’ He hand balled up into a fist. Her normal, flesh and fur, left hand.

She didn’t want to look at it anymore. Often wore an arm sleeve and thin gloves so she didn’t have to. It was just fine, especially with this job. Call it ‘safety’, or ‘not getting loose fur on herself’. It made sense.

'It's also so gol-dern wrong.'  And it’d taken her everything to realize that. Taken her skills, her world…

…her love. Everything. She’d gotten what she wanted all this time- what she THOUGHT she wanted…and immediately regretted it. It’d gotten her husband near killed.

Because she had been too stupid to accept what she was now. Too weak. Too helpless. Too…standard. ‘I ain’t no great strategist, I can’t use a sword any way like…him. I ain’t too fast, I’m no genius…heck, I can’t even really fight too hot like normal folk.’  She couldn’t help but ball her fist tighter. That stupid, stupid… ‘Everything I was was in mah parts. That’s what made me strong, and hun, bless you, but I don’t know if I can do like you said. I’m not…I’m not strong enough.’

And that was the truth, wasn’t it? Everything she’d done was thanks to that fateful accident. She’d thought she’d gotten used to them, made them a part of herself. But she hadn’t. Hadn’t REALLY understood the gift that had been given to her. Hadn’t understood that she’d been more than most could be. She could match up against Sonic the freakin’ Hedgehog with how she was! Now?

She was no better shakes than the average civilian. ‘I hate this. I hate this, and I hate thinkin’ like this, but what in sam hill am I SUPPOSED to think?!’ She could barely hear herself groan, didn’t realize she was grinding her teeth, didn’t realize that her left hand was starting to bleed a little she was tightening it so hard- not until she felt wetness.

The little pricks of blood she felt coming out as she uncurled her hand…both fascinated and mildly disgusted her. Taking off her glove, she allowed herself to see the proof. And the more she looked at it, the more her expression darkened. ‘...I hate this stupid arm,’ she admitted to herself for not the first time as she curled in on herself. ‘I hate my stupid legs, I hate myself, I can’t be comfortable one way, I can’t be comfortable another way- what the hells do I DO with me?!’ She started to tear up, feeling that pit inside begin to widen- she wished sometimes she could just rip -

“Bunnie?” the soft voice of Winnie caused her to jar. “You…you out here?”

Oh, dangit. This wouldn’t be the first time Winnie had caught her spiraling. She was sure she came off as a loon to the girl, but she was nice enough to be patient about it, being willing to listen whenever she needed, and never seemed to begrudge her her little ‘moments’. Sometimes she hated being treated like spun glass…

‘...but I’m weak enough to need it, I guess,’ she thought, resignedly. “...over here,” she said with hardly any volume.

The sound of footsteps came from the other side of the dumpster, and a small noise of concern came from Winnie. Bunnie refused to look up. She knew the expression the ferret was wearing; concern, with a hint of pity. “Hey…you need to step out early?” The girl deserved better than her. Much better. “We’re not very busy. Want me to-”

“No.” The word came out harder than she wanted, and Bunnie forced herself to look up, knowing full well she looked like a mess. Yup, Winifred was wearing that expression, with no judgement, no fear, no derision…just sympathy that Bunnie wasn’t sure she deserved. “...sorry, Winnie, I’ll get back to work soon, I’m just…” she sighed, shaking her head. “...maybe I am kinda messed up,” she admitted softly. “My life’s been…a lotta downs before you showed up. An’ not much ‘up’ in sight.”

Winnie just smiled softly, gently taking a seat next to her. “You don’t think?”

“...” Bunnie just shrugged. “Dunno. Prob’ly not up to me. I…” she sighed, leaning back. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I ain’t got much o’ nothing now. I’m just…just waitin’ on something what might not happen, I guess. An’ wonderin’ if it’s my own fault. Wonderin’ if I was stronger I wouldn’t be…well, like you found me, I guess. It’s like…” she paused, trying to grasp a meaning. “...like I’m in front of a mountain, an’ I dunno the first thing about climbin’. An’ none of the people that used to help me up are here now. Everyone’s just…gone. And I dunno if’n they even care enough to…to…” she couldn’t use the words ‘get me back’, that would be insanity. She let the sentence trail off, uncertain how to keep going.

Even so, Winnie paid attention the whole time, never once looking away. Bunnie was effervescent at times, but the girl obviously held a deep sadness. One she was clearly reluctant to let anyone know about. This was as much as she’d ever told anyone about anything related to her past. And it was clearly unpleasant.

Which is why Winnie gently, carefully touched her right arm- she’d long noticed that for whatever reason, Bunnie preferred to use it even in situations where her left arm would be closer or easier. How she always seemed to hide her left arm entirely while her right was often free. She wasn’t sure of the reason, but she couldn’t help but worry about this all-too-selfless rabbit that had stumbled into her life asking about such strange things. “I think that if you need someone to help you climb that mountain…well, I’ve gone hiking before.” she offered. “So…maybe I could help pull you up?” She grinned shakily, before sighing, and shaking her head. “...that was so lame.”

“Heh. Naw, I get what you mean. And…thanks.” She looked up at the ferret, grateful that at least that was something she had here- one person who offered to be some of the strength she lacked. “I’ll be back in ‘fore long. You go on ahead now.”

“You sure?” she nodded. “Alright…just lemme know if you’re not feeling up to it or anything.”

As she left her alone again, Bunnie could only sigh, and shake her head. It was a good thing that she had someone to rely on at all. At first she was worried when Eggman popped up in the news. There was no way she could do anything against him now. But hearing that Sonic and Tails were around, and was stopping him clean and easy? That put her heart at ease. They didn’t need her here. They loved her, sure, but they didn’t need her. No one needed her. Not without her limbs. 

She got that now. So having someone that could help carry her through the day was…appreciated. And in a world like this, where Sonic and his weird friends can keep Eggman at bay, where there’s a whole organization- some Restoration or some such- making sure anything he does is fixed right up?

She got the picture. The message. ‘I ain’t much needed. Just gotta...accept that.’ In this Zone or probably hers, really. They wouldn’t just LEAVE her, no. Too nice for that. But she wasn’t NEEDED. And she was too weak like this anyways- wouldn’t be any help. 

‘I’ll just sit pat and wait,’ she resolved to herself again. Maybe Antoine will have healed up by then. Maybe he’ll come if he’s not too disappointed. Or our Sonic, like always. Maybe Rotor will find some scientific way.’ It wasn’t the first time she’d reassured herself like this. As she lifted herself back up to continue her workday, the denial settled in, hiding the truth of her fears once again under their toxic shroud.

‘I’ll wait. Like I oughta. Someone will come. When they can. No rush.’

It would not be the last time this happened.

Chapter Text

When he woke up, everything was so white and the sky so shimmering he’d thought he’d passed on.

In a way, he might as well have. He had been found outside of a building, and some well-meaning citizens had found and taken him in, out of the cold and snow. He’d been given a bed, medical attention, all of it. For the first few weeks, he’d felt confused. Concerned. It was appreciated that people would help him, but where was he? This was clearly a hospital- but not the one he’d expected to find himself in.

For one, no one knew a ‘Tommy Turtle’, nor did they know of a ‘Dr. Quack’. That immediately pinged to him that something was wrong. He wasn’t home. Worse yet, he couldn’t move well- though he could move better than he’d thought he’d be able to before taking the explosive doppleganger off of his king. Which was not at all. In fact, as he’d taken his state in, he’d found himself to be in remarkably good condition, all things considered. His limbs felt particularly weakened, they still stung when he moved them, and there was a bit of a haze in his left eye he hoped wasn’t permanent. Overall, however it seemed he’d be making a solid recovery. He’d thought himself lucky.

And then he’d asked about how the royal family was doing, and no one he talked to had any idea who he was talking about.

From there, something had vanished within him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but a chill ran through him for reasons he wasn’t certain of. He recalled something about Eggman and how Sonic stopped him from…resetting the cosmos, or something? Could it have been that? He refused to entertain that idea beyond the initial thought- more than likely it was another Zone. He’d been trapped in one for around a year before- barely surviving by feigning cruelty at times and staying reclusive so as to not anger THOSE villains. 'Would I have to do so here as well?' he wondered initially. Because it couldn’t have been that he’d been lost for so long that time had forgotten them; he obviously wasn’t that old.

‘At least I do not ‘ave to play ze part of ze blackguard,’ he’d thought to himself after a few more days. The people that took care of him were kind, and soon he’d learned of his location- somewhere called Winterburg, a small town that nonetheless had a surprisingly capable hospital. It was…refreshing, almost, in a sense. He’d hoped he would be treated well during this whole stranding, and he was. They were still recovering from some hardship themselves, it seemed, and were he healthy, it would’ve been easy to distract himself by offering to assist however he could.

But he couldn’t. And because of that, he could only lament the loss of the things he loved, yet again. Only now it hurt worse. 

He had been married. Largely, happy. But his duty came first. Always came first, he knew the score, whether anyone wanted to call him a coward or not. And he’d apologized in his head to her as soon as he’d made the decision. ‘Eet was too short. How I long to hold ‘er again…’

A few weeks passed. He was able to get up properly, if barely, and they’d recommended him a course of physical therapy. He’d agreed- he was in no shape to do much at this moment. Though they’d mentioned he seemed to be taking a long time to recover. While he’d at first been worried, he’d gotten the average estimate, and to his surprise, it sounded relatively accurate to him- worrying about danger also meant knowing about the consequences of that danger, after all. But when he’d tried to gently ask after such, they seemed to be surprised. “My word, no, that’s not normal at all,” the lizard doctor stated. “Only for folks with weaker bones or structure and the sort. You should’ve been cleared up in a week or so, so we’d like to take some further tests after you’ve shown a bit of improvement,” had been the lizard doctor’s order. He’d been baffled, but accepted.

That had been a month ago, and now the coyote who was once a member of the core Freedom Fighters STILL walked with a limp. STILL had trouble lifting anything larger than a wooden chair.

STILL couldn’t go out to find his way back home. Back to Bunnie.

He’d listened as best he could. Gotten to play questions and answers with a number of well-meaning nurses and doctors. They’d believed him to be from around Spagonia- a place he only faintly remembered on the atlas. He’d decided it was easier than saying he was from a different dimension. They’d accepted it, though unsurprisingly they’d had no idea who he was otherwise, or how he showed up. There was no one by the name of ‘D’Coolette’ that they knew of, and initial searches turned up nothing. But as he'd continued his therapy, he’d been starting to hear whispers, even as he tried his best to recover daily. 

‘Ligaments are still damaged, likely permanently to some extent…’ Those possibilities that they were reluctant to tell him outright, but he could hear bits and pieces of. That he’d never walk like he used to. Fight like he used to. Not that they knew his past. Not that he wanted to TELL them, either. He knew no one would believe him, believe his struggles, his loss. 

And so, Antoine sat presently within a small, heated hotel lobby, with some other non-critical patients. They’d given him a small place to live for medical observation after the hospital had proven unnecessary, and a young gazelle that was looking to obtain her medical license had been placed to work with him. She'd gone by Verity, and was a slight thing who seemed almost as nervous as he used to be- though also dedicated. Even now she hovered nearby, talking with a doctor- whether about him or some other patient, he was uncertain of. He had a small blanket sheltering him from the worst of the cold that still seeped in despite the central heating, and a cane resting on the couch he was on, as he could only walk for any length of time with one now. Just another thing taken from him.

He sipped at his coffee as he sullenly observed the goings-on around him. Part of him was glad. They looked fairly peaceful, despite having purportedly recently escaped a great deal of hardship themselves. Something about a Metal Virus- not that he knew exactly what that was, but it sounded horrible from what people told him. Sounded far too similar to robotization. However, Sonic and Silver both managed to cure it. He applauded them on that matter, he supposed…

But somehow, he just couldn’t bring himself to work up the will to care beyond that. He’d so hoped that his sacrifice would’ve been worthwhile- that he would’ve been able to go on knowing that Bunnie was safe, that ALL the reasons for his sacrifice had continued to be safe.

And he had no clue. That alone sapped more warmth from him than days of the winter weather. Not like that would stop. ‘I must be very north…or very south,’ he mused. ‘I hate eet when I get zat confused.’

It might not have even been the same, anyway. He’d figure that out when he escaped.

And a part of him disliked phrasing it like that. ‘Escape’. As if he was being held captive. These people had been nothing but kind to him- he was certain he wasn’t captive in that sense. But it just FELT like it. Like his heart was seized in a vice, or a cooler worse than anything outside. (He frowned at making a similar comparison twice in such a short time, but those seeing him in the lobby shirked away from his dour attitude, not certain why he was scowling.) ‘If zis is anozer Zone, zat means I’ll have to get back, some’ow. I’ll have to figure out ‘ow I got here first.’ And friendly people aside, he WAS here in this Zone against his will. So ‘escape’ it was.

And before long, he’d found a potential answer as to how. This ‘Restoration’ group that kept popping up. He had to admit, he was impressed at their reach. They were organized, well crafted. Considering it came from a resistance movement against Eggman much like the Freedom Fighters, he had to concede that their own world would’ve been well-served with the kind of force and technology the Restoration can bring to bear. Instead of small smatterings of forces striking out when they could, it was a centralized, focused, frankly, well-equipped peacekeeping organization. 

More importantly, they seemed to have access to high levels of both technology and magic. Surely one or both of those would allow them to devise a way to get him back! The thought of it almost boggled the mind, even for him. What he’d seen them call a ‘shuttle’ would’ve been equal to a warship for Knothole! It was no wonder they’d held him off so well, all things considered.

The problem was contacting them, however. Though there were clearly ways to do so, even then he wouldn’t exactly be in good enough shape to contribute much. He doubted that wouldn’t tug at their heartstrings, but it wouldn’t help. No, he needed to find his way back, with no chance for errors. 

‘Eef only I wasn’t so…invalid,’ he grunted to himself, ‘I would try to visit een perzon. But as things are now? ’ Foolish. He’d have to wait. But he hated it.

“Mister D’Coolette?” Ah. That would be the nurse. Verity walked up to him carefully. Her expression, upon closer looking, was one of bad news- he recognized it well, as it was one he often used to wear himself. “I, uh. I got some news from the doctors regarding your recent tests…” she paused, her black hair gently flowing to cover one eye, as though her reluctance was on display, and he felt his stomach drop, soon to be replaced by dread.  

That, however, hardened into resolve just as quickly, though he wished for no need of it. He felt his mouth thin into a straight line. “Tell me,” he said with more roughness than usual.

“Oh!” she jumped a bit, but he couldn’t care to be sorry, considering what he felt was about to come. “I-I apologize, but, well…” Deep breath. He couldn't hell if it was his or hers; it didn’t matter, he supposed. “It is the doctor’s professional opinion that it’s unlikely you’ll be able to recover full mobility and motor functions.” Her head was bowed low, clearly not enjoying delivering this news even as she spoke it clearly. “Your…they’ve spotted nerve damage. It’s dangerous to try and use surgery to fix. You should be able to remain ambulatory, but…”

The following words went in one ear and out the other as the cold truth of the statement settled in. It was expected, somewhat. But that didn't mean it shocked him any less. “But…why?” It was all he could ask. Why him? Why now? Why this?

The nurse paused in surprise. “Er, well, I mean…” she fumbled for an answer, but he wasn't expecting one.

“What about my wife?” If he couldn’t go out there, he couldn’t find Bunnie. Or anyone else. “ ‘Ow can I get back to ‘er?” That was all he could think on. “S-she will miss moi…” It was inconceivable. To be so close to happiness, and now to have it ripped away from him?

“Oh- I’m so sorry, but if you have a contact, we can try to look her up!” the nurse promised. Verity had seen this man struggle, had seen him try his hardest. To know that was why, she felt for him.

He sighed roughly, however, and a despondent look came across his face she already knew she hated. “Non. She would not be ‘ere,” he said bitterly. Even if there WAS another Bunnie walking around, it certainly wouldn’t be HIS, not while he was trapped here. "She is..." Not gone, perse (unless his truly greatest fear had occured, but he refused to entertain such thoughts), but...it certainly felt like it.

Her heart broke for him. “I’m so sorry, but-” he stood up before she could finish.

“Zank you for the message. May I take a walk, madame?” he said cooly. Far cooler than one who’d know him would expect.

Verity wasn't sure she could stop him if she wanted- for a moment he'd exuded a regality that made her wonder not for the first time what this mysterious coyote's past was. He carried himself like a classic knight from olden days, and she felt as though he had seen more in his life than she'd ever know. “I-I- sure! Just, please remember your cane, and please don’t wander too far off!” she warned, trying desperately to not coddle him. The coyote had seemed despondent, and knowing he had a wife? Was a widower? Oh, that was just horrible. She wasn't sure what to do for him, though she reached out to try anyway. “I- do you want any assistance?”

“Non,” he refused, standing him and taking the medical cane along with him. “I will walk ALONE.”

With that, he turned on his heel, and slowly, carefully, walked out of the building, the gazelle gazing mournfully at his back.

Only a block or two away from the hospital, he looked up through the starry night, as though checking something. Even they looked off, incorrect somehow. This was most certainly not his home. But for how long would he have to endure that fact? Surely someone would eventually come to his rescue, right? Even after everything before, they had. Why not this time?

‘Because they might be tres busy, you idiot,’ he answered himself in protest. ‘Ze king was under attack, Mecha Sally still roam-ed our lands, and ze Eggman iz still up to no good zere.’ He sighed. A soldier’s work was never done…except for now, it almost felt. There would’ve been worse reasons to retire, honestly. Most of them, really. But he had one very, very good reason to persist.

‘Ze one I love, she is waiting for moi. I must not- cannot disappoint ‘er! But…what do I do?’ Two kids bumped into him, and for whatever reason that must’ve annoyed him, because one look at the two sent them fleeing. He wondered why, only to feel his own face upon realizing that they had looked him in the eye. He was only vaguely surprised to feel a snarl on his face. Forcing himself to drop it, he sighed, turning back to the hospital to ask what’d he miss, diagnosis-wise. She had kept talking, and only now did he realize that it might be important. And in truth...the gazelle didn't need his attitude. She had been very kind, and understanding to the best of her ability.

Really, though, it didn’t matter. He’d do anything for his wife, anything it was within his power to do. That was all that mattered. He’d..

…hm. 'Do anything'. That was a simple, common phrase, and yet it gave him an idea. After all, what else could 'do anything'?

His smile when walking back was one that could only be called ‘slightly' disturbing.

As he eventually made it back, and slumped into a booth to use the public computers, he could only reprimand himself and remember his goals. ‘Zis place is BOUND to ‘ave some information about crossing Zones!’ he grumbled. ‘And zey should be front un center!’ Alas, they were not. It took him a couple of hours of searching, looking for key phrases, leads, stories. But what he DID find out... “Eureka! ZERE zey are…’

He would only return to bed much later that night- after finding out as much about what the Chaos Emeralds were in this universe as possible, along with other odd happenings around Sonic. It seemed like the hedgehog here was no less a trouble magnet than the one he’d known...

Now, though, Antoine could understand that recklessness. Understand that drive. He would do anything he could to look for Bunnie. Absolutely ANYTHING. 

…First, however, he needed to get out of Winterburg and on the road without freezing or starving to death. Then, he just needed to bide his time a little…

Fortunately, Antoine was always good at waiting.

Chapter Text

The walrus had found himself in the oddest of circumstances, all things considered. However, he’d known something bad had happened almost as soon as he woke up. Part of that was due to having been found near a G.U.N outpost, by all respects. Which, for one, he didn’t expect G.U.N. to have, as they’d only been in the United Federation, and considering he’d last been in Knothole as far as he knew…that didn’t math out correctly without a major variable having interceded. Already, his mind was whirling with questions. 

They’d been polite about it, all in all. They’d taken him in, were surprisingly kind, and explained where he was. (Alarm bells were already starting to go off in his head.) He’d of course knew of them, but it hadn’t been like he remembered. He’d explained his point of view, where he was from, what had happened, and then they’d explained they didn’t have a clue what was going on. He’d quickly surmised the possibility of Zones after hearing their debrief. The fact that they were only mutedly surprised confirmed that the concept of alternate dimensions wasn’t a new one to this variant of Mobius. (Though he refused to question why they called it ‘Earth’ instead.) 

It was the first discrepancy that concerned him. The first that made him shiver.

It had taken some careful questioning, and a bit of recovery- he’d been outside of his suit for whatever reason, and hadn’t THAT been embarrassing. But, he’d managed to recover in due time. He’d mentioned what he was up against in his own world, and the response had been…tepid. It made sense, sadly- they’d explained that they were essentially running undermanned and understrength after they’d attempted to stop what sounded like a very similar situation occurring in this setting. To his delight, Eggman HAD been repelled, stopped from his world-conquering schemes time and again thanks to Sonic- and an organization they’d called the Resistance at the time, now Restoration. It made Rotor’s heart swell to hear that at least in some world, Eggman was a controllable issue, at least to an extent. 

Although he was a bit shocked at seeing video of Tails essentially piloting a mech and mowing down various G.U.N combat bots with near wanton abandon from his custom-made vehicle’s weaponry, he tried to dismiss it as a simple variance as was often brought about by Zones.

That was the second. Tails, using firearms…

Ultimately, however, he needed to get back to his world ASAP. This place was…interesting, in its differences, and it was certainly more peaceful on the whole, which was very nice… but ultimately it wasn’t his Mobius. He had to leave.

Where would he go?

He explained his own issues, the general history of his world- and while the outpost wasn’t sure, they’d ultimately decided that with his tech understanding, perhaps a mutual aid system could be formed. While they severely lacked in manpower and couldn’t aid him militarily (nor were they particularly inclined to, which again Rotor completely understood), a bit of technological exchange would be welcome. Rotor could easily see the value in a number of innovations that this world’s Overlanders had managed, and naturally upon hearing about Power Rings and their capabilities, they were more than interested themselves. If Eggman could come from an alternate Zone and bring his own innovations from it, they could get help from one themselves to even the odds.

And so it’d been approximately 2 months in a position he’d never thought he’d be in. ‘Technically a member of G.U.N, on their R&D team, of all things. I wonder what Sally would think of me now?’ He mused, if a bit morosely. Though somewhat ‘informal’, they’d set him up with some necessities- they’d gotten him a falsified birth certificate, driver’s license, false work history, all the trimmings needed to pass as a legal agent that had existed on Earth for his whole life, if anyone knew what was good for them. Though much lessened, they clearly still had some pull in some government areas.

His time was mostly thinking up ways to translate his technical knowledge to this Zone’s. Figure out the Ring Forge, and a few other things. ‘There’s clearly a number of differences on a higher level, though some of the bare basics remain the same. But that’s the nature of Zones, right? There’s always some small differences. This is…’ He shook his head. A bit of extra learning never went amiss. He’d be fine. He just had to learn the rules, learn the way forwards. 

This is a dead end.

Just had a few things to understand that would take a while. How the Chaos Drives worked, for example. To have even a portion of the Chaos Emeralds’ power for mass use? Incredible. Surely they could figure out something similar, even if they already had rings. The differences between emeralds, too. Apparently, FALSE emeralds could be constructed now- this Zone’s Tails had purportedly made one. The idea that you could make a false emerald that even came remotely close to what the real ones could do? Near unbelievable, but there were records. The number of projects and research subjects that could help Mobius would equal out to so much paper he could swim in it.

He wanted to drown in it. Drown and never have to see the surface again.

How Chao evolution worked. How their energy projection devices functioned… There was so much to study, so much to make sure it was a help, and not a hindrance- wasn’t a factor in preventing him from going home. Not to mention doing his part in helping out G.U.N to recover the massive technological losses they’d taken in their recent war efforts. They hadn’t done well at all, supposedly, and much of their infrastructure and logistics had been wiped out, not to mention sheer manpower. Turning back Eggman had a cost, no matter who or wherever tried it. They wouldn’t be able to help anyone on his side until they got back up to speed, after all! “So much to work on…” Rotor muttered as he tinkered with another personal defense device.

Once all that little stuff was cleared up, he could whip up a couple of Star Posts and really get to work on getting home, he was positive!

He knew that he couldn’t.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his analysis, as the door to the laboratory slid open. “Yo, Rotor!” Ah, that was one of the guards coming by. He’d thought his name was William? Something like that. “Got you lunch. Pasta alla Paccico, Spagonia-style!”

“Thanks, Will,” he said evenly, taking the meal before turning back to his work. The Overland- Human was quite amiable, and guard or not he seemed to appreciate the walrus’s help and efforts. Even asked him about home once in a while. 

It would be easy to just point outside.

But he was in no mood to talk with anyone right now. This latest experiment would be vitally important, after all. Will, though, poked his head over Rotor’s shoulder, looking to see what he was working on at his desk. And what he saw was a bit…confusing. “Hey, uh…I know you’re eager to get home an’ all that, and I’m not the smartest guy around, but I gotta ask- what does chao racin’ have ta do with interdimensional transportation?”

Rotor did his best to resist a glare as he turned away from the video on his computer. “It’s studying the aspects of Chao and how their growth rates affect physical and mental components. They could be related to how the Chaos Emeralds utilize energy, which we could potentially use for Chaos Drives, and then to power my Star Posts.”

“Oh!” William nodded in understanding. “Gotcha. That makes enough sense. Alrighty, then, I’ll leave ya to it!” With a wave, he left Rotor with his meal, and the walrus could only sigh as he turned back to his distraction.

He knew it was all a lie.  

He’d created a Zone-detection device within a couple of weeks of being on base. Basic stuff, when he’d worked on actual transportation systems before. He knew the core concepts, and the basic conceit still worked. The common energy systems here were less powerful, but more stable, and they worked for his initial purposes. He just needed to ID where he was relatively, and then he could start work on a gate to go back. The problem was the Zone Detection Device refused to work right. It said he was in the Prime Zone. Obviously that was wrong. So he checked again.

Double checked. Triple checked. No change. He was at a loss.

He knew exactly what had happened.

Maybe there was something preventing it from getting the right readings. Maybe something mystical was more the order of the day. Maybe there was a factor he hadn’t learned about here that was causing issues. He would have to study everything he could think of, and many he couldn’t. He was particularly curious about the Wisps and these ‘Wispons’. He’d come to dislike designing weaponry, but weapons that have a conscience? That could refuse to fire on those that didn’t deserve to be hit? That was interesting to him. That and the emerging Hyper-Go-On energy phenomenon, as well- his planet didn’t have anything like that, and it seemed particularly potent.  So that was a longer-term project for him. It might even hold the key to calibrating his device properly, and then creating a proper set of Star Posts here!

It wouldn’t help. Nothing would.

There had to be some answer. Some key to unlocking the door back home. Back to his universe. Back to where what he knew could apply so much better, where he didn’t have to relearn everything all over again. Back to his friends, and family. But, he wasn’t the leader of the Brain Trust for nothing. He’d figure it out. Whatever it was about the world- about reality- that could prevent him from going home, he’d solve it. Was it perhaps maybe some latent energies of this ‘Phantom Ruby’, perhaps? Or even something else? Something not recognized in any field reports or otherwise?

He’ll figure it out. Eventually. No need to bother this Zone’s Sonic or Tails or anyone until he does- gotta make sure the calculations are correct before testing, after all.

There is no solution. The answer has already been presented. He already knew.

He refuses to admit to himself that this is it. That his calculations weren’t wrong. That this WAS his Mobius. That reality has changed to a point he no longer understands it properly. That most of his scientific and technical knowledge is moot. It is a solution that refuses to sit in his head. A seed that refuses to take root. It would not. Simply not. 

And so, he’ll keep asking that doomed question. It’s all he can do now. What could change reality back to what it was? What did he do wrong?

…was it even worth it? That was the question most pertinent to him, and the one he hated trying to answer.

He’d gotten plenty of data on the state of the world. People here were happy. They had troubles, but there were more than a handful of communities that had a real shot at having a generation that never truly knew Eggman’s rule. They had protectors. They had at least some level of security, of confidence that things could be okay. Cities, nations, continents that were full of free, joyful, friendly faces. Did he really want to revert that back to a world where Eggman held it, whether physically, mentally, or otherwise, in the full iron grip of his hand? Even for his friends? Everything he knew?

He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think so. A part of him disagreed, and he feared that part, but could not excise it entirely.

If he acted on that knowledge, he’d…he’d be worse than Eggman himself. An absolute monster, selfishly sacrificing countless for his own purposes and desires. He didn't think he could bring himself to do that.

But he can’t just…give up. Can he?

Rotor sighed. Leaned back in his chair. Flicked off the monitor. It’d stopped helping. Maybe he needed to step outside for a little bit. Get some fresh air. He’d been cooped up in here for ages. ‘I’ll just keep learning. Maybe one day, there’ll be a way to harmlessly restore my Mobius. My family. My friends. All of that without destroying what replaced it. Or maybe we could all live HERE in peace, somehow. Maybe…

He knew the odds were very, very, very small. Nanoscopic, let alone micro. But he was used to pulling out miracles. He’d find the problem and fix it.

In truth, he didn’t even believe that. 

It was all he had to hold on to. All he had to keep from breaking. The idea that absolutely everything they’d fought for all those years…gone. Completely. Many (all) of his friends, family, an entire world save for smattering bits and pieces in the abstract…all the sacrifices, personal and otherwise. An Absolute Price to pay for only a technical victory.

And to add insult to injury, there was the fact that perhaps not even Eggman could be hated for it. The fact that he, even, was likely so completely different, he wouldn’t know what they were talking about should they confront him over it was a thought that grated. That his atrocities were many, but in the cruelest injustice? The one crime they would accuse him of, he was innocent of, to a point.

What would someone like him do in that case? What was the solution? Rotor wasn’t sure. All he had were hypotheses. 

But, he was a scientist. There was likely an answer, but…

He had to accept it first. He wasn’t ready yet.

There was a lot to chew through, so he’d take his time. Just…needed to be careful, and observe. Surely he’d find a breakthrough somewhere. He just had to keep looking and learning. One day, maybe he’d find an answer to this impossible problem.

One day, maybe he’d accept the answer that he’d already learned.

Chapter Text

‘I wonder where Sally is.’ 

That has been a very common repeating thought she’s had for…a while. She hasn’t seen her for…some time. 

She refuses to say how long. If she did, she would break. She never thought she could suffer a psychological break, but she can tell when she’s exhibiting the potential symptoms of one. A fascinating phenomenon that she cared very little about. But there it was, even back when Sally was roboticized. There were…mild signs, she calculates. So there it is now, again. Only much worse. She’d lose all sense of self, perhaps fragment herself into a jumbled, likely partitioned mess. That is a simple fact. In fact, keeping track of time at all has become unpleasant. Nothing related to time at the moment appealed to her. 

That was why Nicole had deleted her internal clock feature some time ago. She still isn’t sure of how long ago it was and she thinks she is glad for it. 

‘I wonder where Sally is.’ 

She cannot do anything to help find her tortured friend, not in her current state, and this contributes to the aforementioned symptoms. She is…uncertain why she is continuing to hold her AI functionality together, but she does so anyway. Perhaps there is a likelihood Sally might be found and restored? That would be quite pleasant. Though Sally would find her in a reduced state to maintain herself. Her features are less pronounced now.

She’s deleted a lot of features, actually. Many of them she is pretty sure she set a subroutine to do so, passively. It might be why she doesn’t know exactly how she’s in handheld form again, though she has a hypothesis. She remembers that much. She’s pretty sure it’s a nanite base that just looks like her old form that she made. She has to admit, that was impressive of her. Or maybe not. Maybe something else was the cause and she simply forgot. She’s just not as concerned about that as maybe she should be.

‘I wonder where Sally is.’

She has been stuck here for…some time. She doesn't know how long. However, an analysis informed her she was not anywhere near home. For her own sake, she ended up deleting a few useless memories. Some images. Trivia data. Some tactical data. They wouldn’t be useful here. Wherever ‘here’ was. As it stands, she’s only learned through luck. Only had gotten anything through chance. Such as her current situation and whereabouts.

She had been picked up by some elderly ‘human’ coming in from a sailing tour. He’d seen her in the sand on the beachwalk, and had been surprised someone had left it- ‘it’ being her handheld form- there. She had to admit, she was thrilled, initially, before quickly realizing the problem. She was still functional, but he was a stranger at the end of the day. 

She’d decided to not show herself, or her intelligence, until they were alone. 

Needless to say, the old man had been surprised at seeing a holographic lynx come out of the handheld…though not before asking if she ate sandwiches.

She does not, but she appreciated him asking. “I would’ve loved to be able to try one with Sally,” she mutters. The old man cannot overhear- she had calibrated the statement to be beneath his estimated hearing range.

When they first met, she tried to be polite; be friendly. That had worked. Slightly. He’d answered as many questions as he could. He was honestly nice, and it was pleasing to know he was a scholar. Not a technological professor, sadly. A history professor, specializing in ancient literature. But he knew enough. She doesn’t want to delete his name. Pickle. It’s a funny name, but it’s also no one she knew already.

She is somewhere called ‘Spagonia’, apparently. That location IS in her database…but it does not match with the history he claimed it to have. In fact, very little she’s researched does, after scanning as much literature as she dared. He was kind enough to lend her many books to see, and he was more than willing to talk about many of them.

It took her very little time to determine she was not ‘home’. Or whether this was a Zone or not. It was not.

(Memory File Deleted.)

It also took her very little time (she estimates) to calculate the odds of her returning home with no aid from Sonic, Tails, or any of the Freedom Fighters. Even calculated the inclusion of this ‘Restoration’, which otherwise would be very interesting to her. The Professor promised he’d try to get in contact with Tails at least- he’d revealed that the two corresponded occasionally, which had delighted her when he told her. Likely considered that to be a path to reunite with at least some of her friends, and figure out a way home that had a higher chance of success.

‘I wonder where Sally is.’

That had been…some time…ago, presumably. Currently, he has yet to receive any word back from the fox. 

The matter was ultimately irrelevant, she’d wound up deciding. She had continued to collate data, and as she had, it was clear that Tails wouldn’t know her. She’d looked up as much as possible when Professor Pickle finally agreed to connect her to his computer, and thus the internet.

Astounding thing, that internet. It is also very horrible and she hates it. Because it told her the truth. As much information as she wanted. Very little was locked off from her, despite the fact that this...world…has a clearly higher technological baseline than what she knew. She’d had to try a lot harder than she was used to in order to crack databases and servers safely. It was…unexpected. And a bit tiring, truly. But they opened to her, as it ever was. That was only part of the problem, however.

This world’s internet is…vast. Even still, a basic scrubbing of top level history and news sites, and even Pickle’s own information had yielded…not enough. But also too much. Far, far too much. She doesn’t go on the internet anymore.

‘Everything I know is gone.’ Very likely fact. She occasionally came to that calculated conclusion at random times after that search effort. She believes she has, anyway. Why? She is fairly certain she has searched for any sign of her friends. Her allies. She would’ve scanned as many databases as she could find, repeatedly. From her analysis, only the bigger government databases were a challenge- too much of one to risk without being identified. Even then, it was…unlikely they had anything useful she couldn’t find on the open web, and she has nothing. No results, no memos to follow up on any leads. Which means that there were no matches to her satisfaction. 

She thinks she’s deleted her memory and data of that conclusion several times now. She only ends up realizing it because according to her internal logs, there’s a file that tends to repeat. Just a datafile size, not even a timestamp for...a reason. It’s always roughly the same size, too. She believes it likely that it must be the same conclusion every time, or at least within margins of error. She’s dwelled on this far too long. She must get sentimental every time it happens. Like now. She should get on that.

(Memory File Deleted.)

‘…What did I just delete? Well, it was likely useless, anyway. I wonder where Sally is?’ She decides to think no more about it, hopefully.

There is an internal warning she has now. It reminds her to refuse to calculate the odds of returning home until further notice, as defined by whatever information her past self arranged. She doesn’t remember setting this up, but she has registry logs saying that she attempted to do such calculations before. Likely taking into account recent events, the power of known world warping devices or artifacts, all aspects she knows can factor into such a massive problem. These calculations repeat for a while, then stop. So whenever that was stopped was likely when she gave herself a warning not to, for some reason.

(The odds are 1:1, because she IS ‘home’.) 

(Memory File Deleted.)

She answered any questions the professor had for her, which were few- he seemed content to let her dictate the terms of conversation, and she was grateful for that as well. In return, she was willing to help him around the house however she could. She helped organize his files, his laboratory tools. She even made a small digital model of herself inside his computer as an AI assistant. She was his anti-virus. Help system. He’d even been convinced to get a proper smartphone, though only if she would assist with it. 

She’d agreed. These things were surprisingly powerful. While not really a match for her PDA’s specs, that they were within the same ballpark was a bit astonishing- though their program’s focus had clearly been somewhere different than her own, which made sense. She still had a fairly respectable amount of room in the device, only a little bit tight compared to the roominess she normally had. “Indeed, technology is amazing, in the right hands,” he agrees, when she explains her surprise. He himself was surprised at her own technological capabilities as she showed them, but never so much that he seemed over-awed. “Now, then, where did I put that book on ancient island civilizations…?” Just like that, the moment was over, and he’d gone off to focus on something else.

Not that she minded. She was happy to help. “Two shelves up, on the northwest bookcase near the window, sir. Eight from your left.” Overall, it was…not bad. She had a purpose. She assisted with education and personal growth. Her caretaker was a good person, a kindly person. She was part of a worthy cause and institution, if only unofficially. Anyone that saw her image on any of his devices would merely think that she was another of many base AI helpers, maybe a custom one that a student coded, or the like. Sometimes she would slip into the University’s database and clean up a few things for them. Send a few forgotten emails, correct a few accounting errors, nothing major. It was work. Far lower stakes, but no less important for different reasons. 

“Ah, thank you, Nicole.” Pleased, he acquires the book, sits down at his desk happily with a cucumber sandwich and a bit of tea. In a strange way, it was something she’d be happy to be relegated to in a slightly different scenario. She believes it likely she’s already simulated the idea of keeping to simple administrative maintenance should Eggman ever be defeated on Mobius. It would mean that the fight was over. That peace had come. It would’ve been a good thing. It IS a good thing that this place no longer had quite such fears.

It was not Sally, however. It would never be Sally. It would never be Sonic. It would never be any of the Freedom Fighters. It wouldn’t be her world. Her zone. Her…anything.

(Memory File Deleted.)

Nothing at all. It’s all gone now.

(Memory File Deleted.)

There was nothing left.

(Memory File Deleted.)

She goes over her personal internals as a routine self check-up, as Professor Pickle grades a few tests for the day. She could do it easily, but he insists on giving it a personal touch. She can respect that. ‘My, that’s a lot of files deleted. Whatever I was thinking about, I really should stop thinking about it.’

That was her safest recourse, she had realized. And in a way, it made a sad amount of sense…she was a machine, not a person. It was…perhaps not optimum trying to think of things like a living being. Like a Mobian. She felt too keenly now. It was a problem. She had hurt before, yes. But there were still people to care for her. Still people for her to care FOR. The hurt could be dulled. Now, it felt…all encompassing. And there was no recourse better for it than deletion. Erase the hurt. Erase the source of the hurt, and she could help what was left much better.

Objectively, upon further analysis, she should be satisfied, shouldn’t she? Wasn’t her entire original goal being to change the past? Change it for something much better? Well…

Mission Accomplished. At long last. 

Even if it meant the dissolution of everything and everyone she knew. 

(Memory File Deleted.)

Even if it meant that she was possibly all that remained. Of anything.

(Memory File Deleted.)

She had been considering that maybe she should eventually arrange those memory files to be deleted. Although there was a miniscule chance of not only her being present in this new realm…in a practical sense, she had no further use for them. No desire to utilize them. They were too painful. So very, very painful. Being real, being a Mobian often involves severe emotional pain. She knew that very well. Nicole withstood it for her friends, many times. But now…there were next to none. And if there was one thing that Nicole hated thinking about…

It was being alone. 

(Memory File Deleted.)

Ah, there was so much she needed to do, still. Being a professor’s assistant was busy work.

Chapter Text

When the finch had found the robot, initially she was confused. Not because it was a robot out in the middle of nowhere- those could be unfortunately common- but rather because the design wasn’t anything she had on file as far as Badniks went. Not that she had a comprehensive list, of course, but she considered herself a robotics connoisseur, and that included the mad doctor’s works, for as much ill as they brought the world. 

Still, the strange, blue and brown robot laying face down in the forest was strongly reminiscent  of Eggman-style construction, if inoperable and clearly non-functioning. She wondered when it had been created. There was no date when she managed to find her fuel casing, certainly no other major indication of designership. Not even the typical Eggman mark. All that was there was this strange ring that she HAD to presume was some type of power source…but whatever it was, it was defunct. Burnt out. The weird grey ring LOOKED like just a hunk of metal, but there was something about it she couldn’t parse. Still, it seemed like it might be something to inspect down the line, and so she'd carefully disconnected it and set it off with a number of her other ‘Sometime Later’ projects. 

Instead, she had managed to find an emergency power intake, and good old fashioned electricity was currently getting the thing going on a basic level. Just enough to access its central database, but very unlikely enough to actually let the thing move. The way its eyes blankly lit told her it was in safe mode, which was fine with her. Maybe it could’ve been powered with one of her spare Chaos Drives, but she wasn’t THAT reckless- no telling how bad this thing could be when fully powered. ‘I’m ALREADY on the edge of the village for my ‘habits’, no need to give them justifiable ammo to finish the job…’ she mulled to herself as she finished her hook up process.

She had managed to find a data port as well, and was currently doing some software work to see if she could identify anything particularly unique about this strange, chipmunk-esque construct. It HAD to be Eggman make- maybe a test run for a future high-spec Badnik? “If not him, then who?” she muttered as she kept looking at some of the easier accessed files. It had quite the armament and physical capabilities, which was frightening. She was quick to move to disable those, just to be safe.

As she did, however, she noticed that there were constant, repeated references to an encrypted, compressed file that she kept running across. A file called ‘SalA_BrnCore’ that she couldn’t crack for the life of her! ‘What is that?!’ The naming scheme was abnormal to her, nothing she was used to with standard EggTech. She’d have to do a lot more digging than normal, it seemed. 

It wasn’t much longer, however, when she realized that there WAS a primary AI base that kept getting called that most of the coding centered around. Not to mention, it was named similarly. Retracing some steps, that seemed to be one doing all of the core decision-making… and she let out a small cheer as she saw that the codeblock called upon an ‘EggAI’ subroutine- that was the smoking gun that said this was absolutely Eggman! “Gotcha!” she cheered. Now THAT, she had files on. It had been implemented differently than she was used to- that was why she didn’t spot it right off the bat! Everything was going through that weird compressed file before the AI organized whatever output it gave, allowing a level of abstraction that likely prevented typical defensive coding measures. The old man was getting more clever.

‘But never let it be said Tec was a quitter!’ The homestay hacker grinned as she cracked her knuckles, ready for the challenge. She was no Tails Prower, but she liked to imagine she was in a similar weight class, so to speak, and this was her chance to prove it. “Alright, Doc, let's see what your latest toy is all about, and if I can’t turn it on you!”

Three days later, the finch was starting to curse herself for her hubris. It proved…a trial, to say the least. This thing’s integration into the EggAI was far deeper than she had anticipated- instead of it being a runthrough for just the logic and combat subsystems, and allow other stuff like the movement to run off of its own independent code, the doctor had made sure that his AI system was involved in absolutely everything the bot did. Which meant hours and hours of checking the programming line-by-line to see what she could just comment out, what she had to modify, and what she didn’t feel safe IN modifying.

 But on the fifth day, she was finally there. “Alright, NOW I think I gotcha!” she said exhaustedly to herself, a smile managing to creep on her face. The thing had been charging all this time, and now all that was left was to start it up. She’d even finally managed to get that weird compressed layer file uncompressed- though what was in it was still baffling her. It was in no format she could comprehend, and so she elected to not even try. It being something-something ‘Core’ meant it had to be important, but Eggman having to subvert it meant it was likely non-aggressive originally…right? 

Maybe she would restart it from a distance. And in some level of safety that would allow her to warn the village if things went badly.

And thus, she was behind a steel curtain, watching it all from a vision slit. The bot was restrained as best she could with iron clamps on a rough, makeshift operating table she commonly used for dismantling bots. Taking a deep breath, she engaged the boot process, hoping that it wouldn’t immediately fly into a frenzy.

The strange, chipmunk-styled robot immediately blinked online, and Tec had to resist recoiling from seeing those blank, ice-blue eyes. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering what was going through its processor. Its movement systems were all disabled- and hopefully she couldn’t just re-engage them somehow in some way she missed, but she still couldn’t help but play it cautiously. 

Observing, the Badnik’s eyes seemed to rapidly fluctuate, blinking- whether due to disrepair or some hidden alarm or something, she couldn’t say. But after a moment, it ceased as she looked left and right, observing her surroundings. It took her a moment to realize her bound position, clearly, but once she did, its eyes seemed to widen in alarm, and already she began struggling to free herself- her limbs couldn't move, but she could he whirring and rumbling, attempting to start functions that were being countermanded as soon as the signals were sent. At least her code was holding up... 

“Hello?” Her audio systems hadn’t been messed with, so hopefully she would be willing to communicate; there was something in there that hopefully allowed her to talk! And with talking, hopefully, she’d be able to convince it to not blast her and everyone in her village to oblivion if it was still of a mind to. “Are you- can you respond to me?”

A few moments of silence. For a second she grew worried that maybe she’d made a mistake, went one step too far like in-

“Yes…yes, I can!” Huh. She sounded…excited? “I can actually speak for myself again…! Wait! Where am I? Who’s speaking to me?!” 

‘Not what I expected,’ Tec admitted. ‘But infinitely better than the alternative.’ “Weelll…I’m Tec. Aaaand you’re in my TechnoBarn, patent pending.” Sure, no one ELSE called it the TechnoBarn, but she thought it sounded cool and she was the one using it, so there. She risked poking her head out, and she inwardly sighed when the Badnik simply shifted her eyes to focus on her, not suddenly zapping her head off somehow. “I found you powered down in the forest and decided to fix you up since, uh…you’re not like any Badnik I’ve seen before. Thought you might be a fun project, y’know?” she grinned shyly- before inwardly realizing what she just said. ‘Oh, great going, birdbrain, you tell the potential killer robot she was a science charity project to her face, brilliant!’ 

Fortunately, she didn’t seem to take offense, eyes briefly breaking contact before she asked another question. “A different forest, then…? I wonder if I’m still close to New Mobotropolis…”

‘New what?’ Tec shook her head. “Never heard of the place, but I can try to search for it. Is that the name of a new base?” If this bot was feeling chatty and not murderous, she could maybe finagle some good intel out of it. Then the Restoration would have to return her emails. ‘HA! No more ignoring my three messages a day!’ she mentally cheered. ‘Oh, I’m gonna have to get back on that.’

The robot seemed surprised, however. “Wait, do you not know what New Mobotropolis is?” She paused, but started back up before Tec could confirm no. “Knothole? The Republic of Acorn?”

Tec was baffled. She’d never heard of ANY of those places. “Not ringing any bells,” she admitted. “I should warn you, though- I’m a pretty good engineer and programmer, but geography isn’t my strong suit. Not really able to get around to many places, after all.” Feeling a bit bold, she moved herself out of her cover, revealing her permanent wheelchair. “Been stuck in this bad girl since small times. Not that I haven’t made a few improvements over the years, buuut yeah. I basically found you on the outskirts of my daily roll around the forest, like I said.”

“...I see,” was the only response by the Badnik. She almost seemed depressed at learning this. Wow, this thing was pretty slick if it could display emotional range like that. Wonder why the doc would go for it? “I apologize if I’ve touched on something sensitive.”

Okay, something was OFF here. “...y’know, I’m starting to wonder what kinda Badnik you are. You-”

“I’m NOT a Badnik!” the robot yelled out of the blue, immediately sending her zipping back behind cover. “I…sorry.” there it was again. A robot apologizing. “I haven’t had a pleasant time as of late.”

“Ohhhh.” A few things began to click. “You’re really not originally one of his?” THAT was very interesting. “Okay, that explains a few things I saw when I was working through your code.” Moving back to her station, she double checked her work even as she began to undo some of it. “It was looking like the processes were running through two different interpreters.” But now that begged the question… “So…what ARE you?”

The robot seemed to pause, as though thinking. But, it did give a response. “My name is Sally. And I'm not originally a robot at all. I was-" the robot started, before suddenly her voice went very high. “W-why can’t I move?!”

“That was me,” Tec said calmly. “I wasn’t sure what you were capable of, so I combed through your codebase as best I could, but I didn’t want to take chances. I found the code to control all your movement actuators and weapons and anything that sounded remotely scary and ‘temporarily’ disabled them with a little extension of mine.” She shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“O-oh. I…I understand that,” the robot said nearly timidly. That was a switch. “But could you PLEASE give me back control of my limbs? Please?!”

Huh. That…that sounded desperate. ‘This is not what I was mentally prepared for,’ she admitted. “Well…maybe, I guess?” It COULD be a trick…

“I swear, on my honor as princess, I’m not trying to trick you!” Okay, THAT was just eerie. But…what was that about a princess?

Too many things weren’t adding up here. Saying names she’d never heard of as if they were important, calling herself a princess, denying being an Eggman product (though that one was at least more believable)...

Maybe she should take a leap of faith. “...okay.” She rolled up to the computer again. Typed in a few commands, clicked a few buttons to confirm, and that was that. “You’ve got motor control again, no pun intended.”

The botmunk’s head immediately dipped, and all of her extremities proceeded to wiggle around, as though she was testing for feeling in them. ‘ So weird…’ And then the bot spoke again, its face doing its best to look sad, as odd as it was. “C-could you please let me go? Please! I have to get back home now that I’m not under his control, and…!”

“Whoa, slow it down a little there, huh?” Okay, THAT ONE needed some explanation.

Sally wasn't sure what to think right now. Apart from the absolute horror show that was her existence trapped in a mockery of her own body for longer than she cared to recall. 

That had taken up the majority of her concern, really. She could vaguely recall a massive, flashing light right before feeling a sense of detachment and lightheadedness, as well as Sonic and someone else's voice.

Being honest with herself, she'd thought they'd finally managed to put her down. She wouldn't have blamed them one whit. When she came to, she had first feared that her torture wasn't over- that Eggman had somehow found her, repaired her. Would continue his profane domination. She had been willing to sacrifice her autonomy to protect the world, and didn't regret it…but it was no less torturous to know about the suffering she inflicted on friends and family while being able to do nothing but watch.

She had screamed for Antoine, only for absolutely nothing to answer her back. 

But this situation was…not what she'd expected. Some off the grid engineer, a finch named Tec, had found her and repaired her, giving her some actual control over this mockery of a body? That wasn't the best case scenario, but it was up there, all things considered. She’d have to reward the finch when she got back home.

At least, that had been the initial thoughts. Then she'd said blatantly she hadn’t heard of Knothole. Or the city. Or her lineage. Or-or a lot of things, really. Things That should've been obvious. Basic knowledge. And that’s when she'd said it. Sally had asked a basic question. “If we're not in or near Knothole Forest, where on Mobius are we?” ‘Wherever this is, if we can get a message to Sonic, then-’

“What's a Mobius?” Tec had asked as she released Sally's bindings. 

That had been the moment that Sally's hope had crashed and burned.

The immediate thought was that Eggman had done it. That he'd managed to reshape the world to his whim. That thr madman had WON. But oddly enough, that hadn't seemed to be the case when she asked. “Eggman?” she'd confirmed. “He’s…dangerous. And a threat to decent mammals everywhere, but…Sonic and his friends can handle him. There was a war, sure, but it was only about six months, tops.”

Which left only one possibility, one that had Sally both relieved and worried for different reasons. “I must be in a Zone…”

Tec cocked her head. “A what? You're throwing a lot of new words at me today.” Sally decided that meant she had to explain more than expected.

After getting a bit more information, she was of mixed minds. The fact that the war against Eggman had been all of 6 months? Fantastic. This Zone was clearly a bit better off than her own; a bit sad, but nonetheless valued. ‘I can’t let him get to this one, too…’ she lamented mentally. This Eggman was held off by a much more concentrated effort by the populace, and just hearing about it astounded Sally. Still, in some ways, this Zone was too different. Not only did she nor the Freedom Fighters existed, neither did her Kingdom or many other notable names, be they people, places, or things she put forth. It either indicated something had done them all in early, or this Zone just went without somehow.

She needed to find a Warp Ring, or maybe some kind of Star Posts, or…any way to traverse dimensions. She’d been ecstatic to find out that a version of Sonic and Tails were present, as well as most of her heavy hitter friends- but also disappointed that they apparently were away somewhere for a while. She didn’t recognize the location. She wished Nicole were here, but…well, better she wasn’t. Likely she could help the others track her down and find her, while she tracks down a potential way to get back. ‘It’ll be fine. It has to be. I just need to find somewhere to start looking. There’s got to be some kind of lead,’ she surmised. Might as well start with the obvious. “I need to find a way to get back to my home dimension. Do you happen to know of something called a Warp Ring?”

“Nope, but it sounds cool!” Tec had said, and Sally's worry only grew deeper. She started to move past Tec. “Then I'm sorry, I have to leave and-and find Sonic or Tails or-or…”

“W-wait, you can't!” Tec quickly interrupted. “You couldn't, not without your power source!”

That halted Sally immediately, and Tec knew she had her back in. “What do you mean? Wasn’t I powered by a Power Ring?”

“Is that what they're called?” Tec asked rhetorically. “Well, yeah, if you mean that big ring in your body. I was going to look more into it later sometime, because as of now it's dead.” She motioned over to her big pile of future projects. “It's somewhere around there, but as of now you're powered purely by 3 days straight of charging via a heavy duty electrical cable plugged into your spine. Any long term plans of yours are gonna need to factor that in.”

Sally froze in shock. ‘Was that true? How?’ She darted over to the pile. It was easy to find, near on top, but it was as grey and powerless as she'd said. “...t-the power ring…dead…’ she muttered in shock.

Bad to worse. She wasn't particularly knowledgeable about this metal shell, but even she realized that standard electricity as a power source would SEVERELY hamper her movements and options. “What can I even do now?” she asked no one in a confused tone. Tec was in front of her, but she looked at nothing. Could see nothing. “I…is this how it ends?” Her entire struggle, her years and years of giving and giving and sacrifice and pain? 

“Hold on there!” came a voice. Right, Tec was speaking to her. “Y’know, I wasn't trying to intimidate you or anything. All you gotta do is figure out what your limits are first! Then using that you can plan for whatever you're trying to do or wherever you're trying to go next!”

Sally's eyes flickered as she internalized the idea. That. That was smart. ‘Right. Take stock of what’s available, organize around it. I should’ve realized that myself.’ She focused on Tec, looking at her with some concern. “That makes a lot of sense. But how do I test that?”

Tec grinned in slight amusement. “Welll…you could help me out around my village!”

That hadn't been the response Sally expected. “Wait, help you out?” She wasn't opposed to helping someone out, but this seemed a touch suspect.

Tec affected an air of faux innocence. “Wellll, in fixing you up, I've been kinda shirking on helping with some chores for the village, and I might’ve sorta kinda played you up as a potential big help to have them let me keep doing it?”

“I see.” So, she'd used fixing her as an excuse to play hooky. Granted…hooky to help HER. Although she inwardly sighed, she knew she was grateful regardless.

“Village tasks aren't my favorite thing- for obvious reasons,” she admitted, motioning to her wheelchair. It was very clear that Tec was…not exactly mobile, unfortunately. “There’s stuff out there to help out paraplegics like me, but uh…that takes a bit of scratch,” she explained shyly. “That, and, well, Iunno. I got like this for a reason, and dumb as it sounds, I’m kinda fine like this? Like, it reminds me why I got into the whole ‘wanting to help people’ thing in the first place.” Sally supposed she could understand that much. “Now with you to help me out, though, I get those projects knocked out waaay faster! Help me with stuff around the village for a while, you get to learn what your energy expenditure rates are, and I can get to work on looking for stuff for you in my newly free time!” she explained, excited. “It's a win-win-win!”

Sally wasn’t the happiest with the situation, but she could still understand the issue. Also, as much as she hated to admit it, Tec kind of had her over a barrel- though she suspected the finch wouldn’t do anything to her, it still grated a bit. Only a bit, though. Mostly, the girl’s requests seemed reasonable. As much as she disliked the feeling of wasting time, her logic had a point she couldn't argue- at least, not safely or without her risking shutting down due to power loss in the middle of nowhere. “...alright. Deal.” Metal met feathers in a handshake, and that was that.

And so Sally Acorn spent her first couple of months in this strange world chopping wood, fixing up areas of the barn and other buildings, and being allowed to explore the countryside briefly, learning whatever she could about this world and her mechanical frame from her small, safeish spot in it. In a way, it reminded her of her brother Elias- this was what he wanted, he’d HAD before the needs of the people had dragged him back. She couldn’t help but feel sorrow for her brother- what was he going through right now? Still, it was far from a bad village. This place was calm, but had been under attack before. The small village, Orchardville, seemed wary of her. She could completely understand why, and Sally went out of her way to keep contact with the larger part of the village to a friendly minimum. Although she was no fan of being held back, without Nicole or any of her usual sources to gather intel, she had to play by the finch’s rules.

She had been granted back provisional access to her motor functions - that said, she didn’t know how to use her thrusters, and a part of her rebelled at ever learning, of even more acclimation to this outer mockery of herself. Otherwise, Tec still held her weapons systems and a few other functions offline or nullified- not that she particularly wanted them. “Really, it’s probably for your own good if you don’t wanna be stuck doing what Eggman wants anyway,” she’d explained once asked. “That stuff took forever to work around since it’s integrated into even some of the more detached parts of your code. Couldn’t just comment it out.” To be fair, however, she DID do her best to search for any information on the others, and give any information she had.

Namely, that there wasn’t any. Trying to catch the attention of the legendary Sonic the Hedgehog was beyond a chore. Sonic moved like the very wind, and catching up to him, even digitally, was nigh impossible. Even trying to catch one of the others proved unviable, as most were on the move consistently. She hadn’t managed to contact the Restoration either, sadly; though even she had to admit they looked impressive from what she saw on the net. ‘If we had just one of those transport ships even a year or two ago, I’d have been doing backflips,’ she admitted to herself. ‘Heck, they wouldn’t really go amiss now.’ She'd started to get more used to this metal body, even though it wasn't hers. 

The simple, repetitive tasks she often had to do allowed her to get familiar with aspects she'd never had to consider about her true body before. But she could still only go so far without risk; a full day's work even here, of chopping wood, tending to repairs, and other small things drained her reserve battery nearly halfway. Tec had rigged up a converter for a spare Chaos Drive, which allowed her to charge faster, but trying to utilize the drive itself would take modifications to the chassis.

Sally refused to be touched in that manner unless it was for repairs. And so they were left with the only other option.

“I’ve sent a TON of emails- used to be at least 3 a day, and even though I’ve dialed it back to one a week I’ve still gotten no response!” Tec complained, nearly throwing herself off-balance to the point Sally had to catch her wheelchair. Although…

“...Tec, have you considered that perhaps they’ve flagged your attempted contact as a rogue agent or something?” she questioned.

For a moment, Tec seemed honestly offended- before closing her beak mid-rebuttal, and then suddenly blushing. “...ah.” It came out almost as a chirp, honestly, but Sally decided to say nothing about it. “...yeah, that could be considered spam, huh? I think I’m gonna need to visit personally, then. Shame I don’t have any friends that could get me in.”

“Actually, speaking of that…” Sally started, but was quickly interrupted with a soft sigh.

“If it’s about finding your other friends…no, I’m sorry. I also still don’t have anything on any kind of warp system,” Tec said again sadly. This bot, who roundly claimed she was a flesh and blood islander (‘Mobian’, whatever) who had been converted into a robot, was deadset on either locating her old friends or finding a way back to her own ‘Zone’. What supposedly happened to her reeked of the Metal Virus and sounded horrific. She liked technology a ton- but not to that extent. Full robotification had too many flaws anyway. “If it exists, it's experimental, and if it's experimental, odds are good only the Big Boys and Girls would have that kind of tech, and I’m not gonna risk being put on an international wanted list for trying to hack into government computers.”

“I-I wasn’t asking you to,” Sally said, if a bit sadly. Nicole would’ve been able to do something like that no problem- even if it was a bit…renegade. But a situation like this was not good, and she needed to get back home ASAP. That might involve a few risky decisions, but hopefully they’d hurt no one. She HAD to get home to continue the fight…somehow.

After she had finished for the day, she often found herself sitting on the top of the TechnoBarn's roof when she wasn’t recharging, watching the stars begin to show up in the sky. They weren't the same as she remembered. She knew that now. She'd had plenty of time to look and recall the more common ones. She didn’t need to sleep anymore, after all. Low-energy mode at best, where she could exist in but a haze that would seem like about an hour or two, but was a full night. Even that was more voluntary than anything, and left her alone with her thoughts far too often. She felt…muted, detached, and even though she was finding help in Tec…

…something felt all too off. She wasn’t sure what. If…if Nicole were here, maybe she could run an analysis, or if Antoine, perhaps voicing his worries would spark a realization. Her brother would do her best to reassure her, maybe her father or mother would have some wisdom or even just say something to help galvanize her. Sonic, HER Sonic, would reassure her and promise that everything would be okay as he helped search for a way to get them back…

But she didn’t have them now. She was on her own. In a body that wasn’t hers, but she had to get used to. In a world that was superficially like her old one, if only barely.

And she knew her friends would never stop fighting- for her, or for Mobius. On that matter she was certain. But then the Antoine situation had happened (which made her inwardly shudder in revulsion), and it had taken quite some time to resolve that…but she couldn’t wait that long, no disrespect to him.

This Sonic and Tails would help, certainly. But they weren't hers, and they were always so busy. Knuckles seemed to vanish unless needed. And Tec could only do so much. She could only do so much. And Sally wasn't sure what more she could realistically do. ‘ Is this where it ends?’ A simple robotic woodcutter? After everything she’d given for her Kingdom, her planet? Her people? ‘ This CAN'T be where it ends!’

Would it really be all for nothing? Everything just… vanishing in a wisp of light, and herself resigned to living in a world that wasn’t hers? Like nothing had happened? Like none of it mattered?

She stood up. ‘No. I refuse to believe this is where it ends.’ She just had to keep fighting, as always. ‘I will find my way back. And I won’t let anything stop me.’

She would have to play a little hardball, but hopefully Tec would understand.

Chapter Text

As much as the mongoose wanted to splurge on a fancy, 5-star dinner, just to enjoy the feeling of having fancy food again, she wasn’t stupid. She’d been living on literal scraps and goodwill for a bit now, and so when she’d simply said ‘anything filling’, he hadn’t questioned it- and she wasn’t at all surprised when Hank, as she’d learned his name was, had taken her to a simple, sit-down diner. Nothing too expensive or elaborate, but “it’s got good folks and good food. A place to fill your belly for the night on not too much,” so he’d claimed. Their server was a lovely raccoon lady named Marigold, and she hadn’t batted an eye at either of their decrepit states. She’d simply cocked an eyebrow and asked ‘y’all good for it?’ in a thick Southern drawl. Her amused grin and Hank’s own easy chuckle and nod back at her told her that they’d had this conversation before- maybe an in-joke? Regardless, they were sat down and gave their orders quickly enough.

Hank gave a sigh of relief after they were alone. “This is a good spot, don’t worry. One of the only ones with seats big enough for humans, too,” he chuckled. “So enjoy the extra space!”

The singer nodded, though she fidgeted a little. “...thanks. I, uh…it’s been a minute. Since, I mean…” she trailed off, unsure of how much to tell him.

“Naw, it’s fine. Same here,” Hank dismissed easily. “An’ like I said. Got you to thank for it. Wasn’t doin’ too hot until you came along.” He grinned and nodded in thanks. “Today, you were my lucky charm, lil’ miss.”

“I…I don’t think I’m all that lucky,” she demurred. “But…thank you. Again.” She let out a soft sigh of her own. “I haven’t heard anything like that in ages. And you taught yourself that?”

“Not quite,” Hank admitted, giving a sad smile. “My mom loved her some jazz. Played all sorts of tracks all the time. Pops was dang good at it, too. It’s his sax, in fact. How they met.” He let the story wash over him- his folks had told it a hundred times, maybe more. “Pops was playin’ in an old, smokey bar. One of those easy places with good drink, lil’ hole in the wall that you’d never notice if you were just walkin’. Had to know what to look for, the right door.” She could just imagine it- a subtle sign near the entrance to an alley on a cold, rainy night where people could hop in for warm drink and atmosphere… “...and my dad and his band would keep the music flowin’, smooth as you please. My mom had just stepped in to get a lil’ color back in her cheeks after a rough day. Heard the music, took one look at him on that little stage-” he snapped his fingers, a soft smile on his face at the memory. “And that was it.”

“Ohh…that’s so romantic!” she cooed. 

“Sometimes, it works out like that,” he said calmly. “They had 40 blessed years together. Taught me everything I know about music.”

“T-they must’ve taught you well…” she complimented. “I, uh…I’m mostly self-taught. Singing, I mean. I just…” she wasn’t sure how to phrase it- how would he understand she came from a completely different world and how different things were there?

To her surprise, however, he waved it off. “You got into a hard situation. Ain’t gotta share your story if you don’t wanna. Bit of an unwritten code for folks on the streets.” He grinned. “Just say as much as you care to.”

She appreciated the candor. For a moment, she opened her mouth to begin talking…

…but where would she even begin? How would she make it make sense? She could try, but… ‘Would it even matter?’ 

Of course it COULD. Maybe he’d heard of something on his time on the streets, some connection that could lead her back home- or maybe he would just see her as a meal ticket he didn’t WANT to let go back home. Maybe he’d lie anyway. Maybe…

‘Maybe there IS no way home.’ She wouldn’t ever be able to guess how or why she felt that impulse- dare she say instinct- within her. But she did, and though it wasn’t a fierce, encompassing feeling, it was something that was feeling more ‘solid’ with every passing day for reasons she couldn’t place, really. Though, if she had to be honest with herself, there was a part of her that felt almost…almost like she didn’t deserve to go home regardless. Did she want to risk telling him anything? Break up the burgeoning friendship that seemed to be happening here?

She couldn’t find it in her. ‘ Always a coward, huh, girl?’ She closed her mouth, failing to meet his eyes. “...maybe not right now.” Maybe not ever.

Hank nodded in understanding. “Plenty fine. Shouldn’t be too much longer until the food gets here.” It wasn’t, and after their plates arrived they ate in companionable silence for some time. She’d gotten a pasta salad with bread and a soup side, he’d gotten a basic steak and eggs.

Frankly, it was delicious and filling, just as he’d promised. She allowed herself to savor this one thing, just appreciating the fact that she at least wouldn’t go hungry tonight. It was a sad, morbid thought that reminded her of how much she had lost- but then again, just about anything did that nowadays. And sure, she could try something. She really could. But then the icy spectre of what-if always reared its head and froze her body, her mind. ‘And now I’m here. Just…here.’ It seemed that when everything was said and then, she’d done what she did best: run.

Always run. Usually to a friend to help solve the problem, instead of trying to solve it herself. And now… “...I’m by myself,” she muttered out, her pasta only mostly done.

“That so?” Hank asked, not unkindly. 

“I…I used to have friends. Family. A boyfriend. Something I loved doing,” she lamented, and now she found herself unable to stop. “But…they’re all doing important stuff, and…and I thought I was for a while, too. And then I just KEPT. SCREWING. UP.” She didn’t think she’d EVER forgive herself for what happened with Nicole, even if the AI itself did. “And- and it’s like, I tried to fix it, or just do what I could, but now…” her shoulders slumped. “Now I’m alone. I- I don’t think I’m ever going to see anyone again, I-I don’t think anyone I k-know is here , they’re always so busy- and we hadn’t really caught up in ages anyway, and-and even if they could’ve come get me, I doubt it’s like they remember who I am!” She barely held herself back from slamming the table, but there were tears in her eyes. “I was- that was why the band was even-” she felt a hand come across hers, and she looked up to see Hank’s over heads, as well as a gentle, concerned face. “...sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he offered simply. “You need to let it out, you let it out. But maybe let’s go somewhere you can be a bit private when you do it, hm?”

Oh. Yeah. Forgot. Public place. Nice going. “Yeah, I- let’s do that.”

The young vagrant found herself walking with the man to a small side street within the city not too far away, enough to let the food and her emotions settle. She had never been in this direction, but it seemed like a decent enough residential area. ‘Why here?’ she wondered as they walked the street. If he was going to…to do anything to her, then this wouldn’t exactly be discreet…but she didn’t really think anything would happen. Not now, anyway. “So…why here?”

He grinned. “You’ll see. But for now, you were sayin’ you didn’t have anyone to back you anymore?” He wasn’t smiling at that, she could tell. It was something else- a hidden meaning in the words she couldn’t quite decipher right now.

Still, she answered. “I…no,” she sadly admitted. “I…I don’t have anyone who- who cares. Not anymore.” She wanted to cry, and considering his words from earlier, she was tempted to let it out… “I don’t think anyone even remembers me…”

But a hand on her shoulder stopped her a little longer. “I don’t know about all that,” he admitted. “Got at least one.” He thumbed to himself.

That confused her for a bit, staring at him in confusion. “But…we just met.”

“True,” he admitted, “but it doesn’t take that long to make an impression on someone. An’ you, little lady, did just that with your singing.” He continued walking, and she followed. “It might sound a lil’ mercenary, but that singing helped someone today to live a bit longer.” He grinned, looking up at the sky. “ ‘Sometimes, good music can change a person’s life’. My momma always said that, my dad believed it, an’ so do I.”

The mongoose blinked, remembering the story from earlier- and her own experiences with doing just that with her own songs. It was scary, nostalgic, and humbling all at once. But with what she’s done-

“Can’t say I know what happened to you, obviously,” Hank continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “But honestly? Seems to me like you might be getting a second chance, in a way. I think bein’ able to sing like that? That’s a gift, one that shouldn’t be locked away. Heck, it’s why I keep on playing even though I don’t have much else, myself. So if no one else, I’ll be sure to remember you.” He looked at her, and it was clear he was headed somewhere, now. “It’s like I said. Today you were my four-leaf clover, little lady, and I’ll remember that. Luck comes in a lotta mysterious ways.”

“...huh.” In a way, she supposed that was right. She hadn’t done much with it, but in her own way…well, maybe she was at least somewhat lucky. She had survived whatever it was, and while she didn’t know what had happened to everyone else…she was still here. Although, speaking of that. “Where ARE we going, anyway?”

Another smile of his. “You said you didn’t have anyone. I’m hopin’ to change that. As she was about to ask what he meant, she could just begin to hear the sounds of piano from ahead of them. Hank clearly heard as well, by how his smile stretched wider. “Ah, there we go. She ain’t finished up, yet.”

The mongoose was confused, even as the dulcet tones of what was clearly soft piano met her ears. It warmed her in the night, a soft, fuzzy feeling that she appreciated as the tones rang out clearly. Who was this?

They came up upon a small park- clearly for kids and their parents, not much else apart from some playground places for the children, while the adults talked around park tables and mingled for one reason or another as they kept an eye on their progeny playing together- a birthday party, looked like. Off to the side was a small gazebo, upon which was a classical piano. And sitting at it, eyes closed and playing, was a light-green cat. She wore a soft blue dress with a black belt, and one could see black dress pumps as well. The cat wore the expression and poise of a professional…but the fellow musician looked closer as they approached, and she could see some tells.

The dress had a few subtle stains on the front, and it was badly frayed at the hem beneath. Her gloves were dusty, ratty. The cat herself had the left ear neatly clipped at the top, but her coiffed hair was fraying as well. Even her poise, as they got closer, ignoring the stares of the once-occupied adults, she could see was interspersed with the cat occasionally opening her eyes to check her hand position before closing them and returning to the piece, a subtle uncertainty. She nore Hank interrupted her, but as the piece she was performing closed out, Hank gave her a few claps, as did his fellow vagrant.

“...Hank.” the cat greeted with an incline of her head as she turned towards them, hopping off her seat as the well-to-dos proceeded to ignore them now that it was clear they weren’t going to cause issues. Her violet eyes seemed a bit more friendly than she’d expected. “It looks like today was good for you.”

“Hey, Lily. Glad this one came through for you,” Hank responded, nodding in agreement. “You were frettin’ about this gig.”

“It’s…enough to eat off of for a couple of days,” she agreed, looking away.. And it was then she turned to the mongoose. “And who’s your new friend?”

“This here’s the lady what got me enough to eat for about the same,” he grinned. “Lucky charm for the day- I was making pennies, but this girl’s got the voice of an angel an’ knows how to use it.” 

She could tell that Lily was looking her up and down- though it seemed to hold little judgement in it, merely taking her in. “That so?” she grinned. “Pleasant. Though I really was asking for her name. ” She held out her hand. “Lily Watercrest…though, uh, don’t expect anything to come of that last name anymore.” The expression turned from amused to embarrassed- and saddened. “I’m just another street performer like you now.” The singer shook it, gently. She had no clue about the name, anyway. 'Should I ask?'

Meanwhile, Hank blinked. “Oh gracious, I don’t think I ever actually got her name.”

Lily goggled rounding on him to the mongoose's surprise. “You absolute boor! How could you-”

“We were having a good time talking! It never came up!” he quickly defended, and before she knew it the two had gotten into a squabble like they were old friends- which it was clear they were. It…it reminded her of better times. She missed Ash. She missed Sonic- her Sonic, the Sonic that would jam out with her, not this Sonic going hither thither everywhere, and she missed all of the others, as well. She missed a lot.

“And if you really ever want that band you keep talking about to take off, then-” Wait, what?

“Hold on, what band?” the mongoose interrupted. The both of them looked at her in vague shock.

Lily was the first to recover. “THIS one,” she started, thumbing to Hank, “keeps saying that there’s enough wandering musicians out here to form a decent little band to play the bars and a few other spots regularly. Maybe even some nearby cities.” She scoffed. “I wasn’t really for it because our sound would be like any random instrumental band out there- it wouldn’t be worth the effort.” The cat, however, then got a more serious expression as she looked the mongoose up and down again. “Though if you’re as good as he says…”

“Honestly, I hadn’t even remembered that,” Hank admitted. “I just wanted to get the poor girl to meet someone- she doesn’t have anyone out here,” he clarified. “Thought she could use a friend, and I knew you were playin’.”

“...ah.” Lily quieted up. “Well…yes, that does sound like you.” 

But the subject of the matter was already a bit dizzy. They wanted to form a band? With her? Here? Why? She would just… ‘Do something to ruin it. Cause a mess.’ But…she already missed singing.

She missed her mother, her friends… her band. She missed getting on a stage. She missed Sonic. She missed Ash. She missed it all.

She was also the only one who knew, or cared about them here. And that was torturous on its own. But… ‘ Maybe this…maybe singing is the one thing I can’t really run from . The thing I don’t WANT to run from.’ Though she couldn’t face it head on, maybe there WAS something else she could do. Like from before, though it had taken her a moment back THEN to realize it, too. And this time it wouldn’t be an inadvertent rallying cry.

It would be a dirge. A memorial to times gone by. She…might’ve been a bit catastrophizing, maybe. She wasn’t sure. She felt more sure than she had in a long while, however. Maybe she’d be proven wrong and ultimately, she’d just have done the cowardly thing again. Maybe deep, deep down that’s really all she was and this all was just excuses and justification.

But as she considered it, she mentally threw up her hands. ‘I’m…just getting so tired of hating myself already,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe I AM a coward, running away from doing the hard thing all the time. But you know what? I’m starting to think that’s fine with me. Maybe I’m not the best person, but…but we can’t all be Sonic, or Sally, or heroes like that. If I’m anything right now, I’m just Hank’s four-leaf…’

“Clover.” The word from her stopped the other two discussing in their tracks as they looked over to her.

Hank was the first to speak this time. “Come again, kiddo?”

“My…my name is Clover.” The Mongoose resigned to herself. ‘The name Mina doesn’t matter now, anyway,’ she mentally surrendered. ‘No one knows about it. No one cares about it. If…if everyone’s gone, then at the very least Mina Mongoose should go with them. All that matters is the music.’ After all, if no one else would remember them, or her, then carrying that name would just bring so much pain. 

Lily, unaware, then a small smile on her face. "Then let me formally say- Hello, Clover." She tilted her head slightly in greetings. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Yes. Better to be a coward. Run from it like she ran from everything else. 

She’ll survive that way. And maybe she’ll carry everyone’s memory in her singing. 'Even if it’s just on the streets, where no one still knows me- they’ll pass by. They’ll hear my singing.'

And one of my friends will be remembered in some way. That's all I can do. 

I’m too much of a coward to do anything else. “So…about that band?” she asked, pushing the admittance out of her head.

Hank smiled, and nodded. “Got one more guy to convince, but honestly? Clo, with you here, I think we got a real shot at this. We’ll talk to him tomorrow. C’mon, you two. Let’s find somewhere quiet for the night.” 

Lily sighed, but didn’t complain, and began packing up her meagre belongings in a nearby duffle bag. “Let me pick up my payment, then we can go. Can we stay in the same spot from last night?”

“The empty car shop? Might be good.” Hank agreed. Clover, formerly Mina, simply followed. Whatever this new life entailed, she would deal with it however she pleased. 

A gust of wind had a clump of her own hair slap her in the face. ‘Although maybe one of the things I’ll eventually need to get is a haircut. Or at least a good wash. Blegh.’

Chapter Text

Winnie cheered as she tossed open the door to the apartment. “Finally! Home at last.” She tossed her jacket up on the coat rack and quickly slumped down on the couch in their living room as Bunnie walked in behind her. “I love doing hair as much as the next girl, but today was insane! I don’t know how you manage it sometimes, honestly!”

The rabbit roommate could only chuckle. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m not tryin’ ta chat up that otter fella every time he comes in!”

“Oh, hush, it’s not even like that,” Winnie dismissed with a playful smile. “He’s got an AMAZING style, I’m not gonna shy away from getting tips!” Bunnie could only giggle, allowing her defense.

It was moments like this that let her start to think things might be okay. Being able to casually laugh and joke like this was honestly enjoyable, compared to the ‘intentional’ light-heartedness that she’d often had to give to help keep everyone’s spirits up. Bunnie gave her an amused if concerned look at her roommate as her own smile became a yawn. “My my, you really are bushed, huh?” Winnie was sweet as pie and a bit of an overachiever in her own way, and Bunnie could easily respect that. It reminded her of-

“Eh, not too much to enjoy vegging out and watching some game shows,” she admitted as Bunnie shook her head to dismiss her train of thought. ‘You just stop that right now, Rabbot.’ “But hey, you're still ready and rarin’. You've GOT to share your secret with me for how you have so much energy one of these days!”

‘Hells bells, I hope I nevah do.’ “How about I whip us up a casserole as a compromise?” she offered, casual grin in place. Winnie LOVED her carrot casserole.

Sure enough, the ferret whipped right around on her couch, eyes alight. “Oooh, compromise accepted!” That got a laugh out of her, and Bunnie moved off to the kitchen to begin. It was honestly not bad. Something to do every night. Relatively peaceful surroundings. Almost…normal. She really should be appreciating all of it, right?

‘Then why do I still feel like an imposter? A-a stranger in mah own skin?’ It was a question she couldn't ever answer to her own satisfaction, and she hated it. It wasn't even all of her, just ‘those’ parts. What was worse, part of her realized the absurdity and tried to shut it down then and there. ‘Just focus on choppin’ the carrots, girl.’ That's all she needed to worry about right now. Roommate was hungry and she could help.

‘Not like you could do much else, ya idiot.’ No. It was too late. The thoughts were starting to creep back in again. ‘Alla that Freedom Fightin’ experience and not much more useful than line chef duty now. Wonderful.’ That was a lie. She knew it was, objectively, false. Whether in her own world or this one she could likely find a niche to fill, even away from the frontline.

That didn't mean it couldn't feel true, and it certainly did for her now. ‘It’s not like I want ta throw in th’ towel, but with how I am now it ain't been the best time to try otherwise. ” Honestly, as much as she used to playfully needle him about being scared all the time, now she was getting a very good understanding for where that all came from. Maybe he was more sensible than she had given credit for even now. 

Certainly the physical toll probably explained some of his initial reluctance. She still indeed had plenty of energy, even though she was sore herself. ‘Doggone normal bits,’ she swore. ‘Hurtin’ and causing me to end up more sore than tired. Maddenin’.’ She didn’t used to have to deal with that because of her mechanical limbs. Now…now she was struggling a bit to just chop carrots.

She hadn’t been entirely idle, to tell the truth. She’d been looking into that whole ‘Wispon’ thing. They seemed cute as a button and pretty useful, all in all. Though…she wasn’t entirely certain how reliable they could be, considering they entirely had wills of their own and could differ from their user’s intent. Even then, any option was better than none. Maybe something that approximated her old limbs functionality would be as good as she could get. And even then… ‘You’re still getting help from other folks just to do what used to be the standard. Just accept it, Bunnie, you’re a weak lil’ thing, an’ you need help from anyone you can ask. Unless you got your limbs back, then maybe you’d be of some good, but what are the odds of that?’

The sound of the knife against the cutting board was repetitive and only mildly distracting enough as she washed the knife, cleaned it off, and started chopping again. Wouldn’t be long now, then came the onions, the butter…good thing this knife was sharp. ‘Yeah, it’s plenty sharp. Could take a girl’s finger off, I should concentrate.’ The knife was dangerous. ‘Yeah. Whole finger off. Maybe more, I bet.’

It would, wouldn’t it? She’d always kept the knives sharp because of how Winnie’s standard diet consisted of meat (and meat by-products, frankly), so she had no issue preparing it, but…sharp knives. Very sharp. ‘Could take a whole arm off, I bet. You swing it hard enough, bet it would only be painful for a minute. Bet it’d sting and that’s it.’

‘Then maybe I’d have a reason, call it a cooking accident. Or maybe would that be too much? Maybe nothing big for now, just below the elbow. Yeah, that’d make more sense. See if they can make something not useless and twitchy and weak like you are now you stupid, STUPID bun, you just cut it off, cut the weakness off and you can-’

“Bunnie?” a soft voice came. She blinked, and felt a hand on her right arm.

Her right arm that was in the air, knife at the ready. At her left arm that was across the cutting board. 

Waiting.

Bunnie blinked again, her mind trying to catch up to what she was seeing as the arm with the knife gently, carefully came down courtesy of Winnie’s guidance. The knife was gently pried from her hand, not that Bunnie recognized it. 

She was carefully turned around, Winnie’s face with an equally careful smile. She’d seen everything. And Bunnie was…was about to… ‘Oh….oh mah stars.’

“Hey…it’ll be okay, right?” Winnie’s voice was soft, nonthreatening. She brought Bunnie’s hands around to the front of her, held them tightly, but not uncomfortably as she waited for Bunnie to come back to the present. Good, she wasn’t sure if she could deal with any accusations right now. No talking about what she…she THINKS she might’ve been about to do. “I was thinking I’d try cooking tonight anyway, okay? You wanna take a lie-down?”

Bunnie could only meekly nod. “...yeah, okay.” She hated how fragile her voice sounded. Like almost everything else about her. “I’mma…I’mma be in my room.”

“I’ll be right there to check on you, okay?” Bunnie could only nod as she trudged along the hallway, her body and mind on separate tracks for the moment. She didn’t recognize when she got into her meagre little room, with the sparse effects she had bought besides a bed and a dresser. A vase of flowers. A few magazines on haircare. An atlas, a globe both for reasons she couldn’t say out loud. A radio for if she was feeling like listening to music. A phone, because Winnie insisted she needed some communication method. Aside from that, she didn’t have much.

It felt… ‘Like I’m pretendin’. Like I’m tryin’ to act like someone who…who isn’t like me. At this point I’m not sure who ‘I’ am, almost. Not without…’ Not without so many things. None of which she cared to say out loud. None of which she could really get back, either.

She flopped on her small bed. It was usually fairly comfortable, but now…she couldn’t think about that. She was…her arm…

‘...I’m such a doggone mess,’ she lamented to herself as she quietly cried into her pillow. She was never a heavy bawler, but this made her shiver with its pain. ‘I SHOULD be fine! I SHOULD be doin’ whatever I can ta get home! I should…I should…’

“Hey…” She felt a weight next to her, and her attention was taken. Again. She did it again. How long had she been in here sobbing? It had to have been for more than a couple of minutes. Winnie seemed to be able to just jar her out of her malaise somehow, and she was grateful for it. “Just wanted to let you know dinner was finished. You, uh, you up for it?” Every word was calm, non-judgemental. Bunnie wasn’t sure how she did it.

She wasn’t ‘up for it’, not really. “No…but I oughta.” She dragged herself out of be- ah, no. Winnie was helping her up. Supporting her like she had been since they met. Such a nice gal.

“C’mon. We’ll get something in you and then you can head to bed early, alright?” Oh, right. They did game shows together some nights. Movies sometimes, too. She’d forgotten. Ugh. Some friend. Just messing everything up lately.

“...okay.” Listless, Bunnie allowed herself to be led to the kitchen area. The casserole had finished up nicely, actually. Oh, and she’d made a small pasta with it. That was nice of her. So she might not need her even for this. That was…not a pleasant thought. Even though it was clearly done to help her.

Dinner was in silence for the majority of it. It was only when they were near finished did Bunnie take a deeper breath. ‘She deserves something from me. Maybe…maybe I could trust her a little.’ “...I had a husband.”

Winnie immediately went ramrod straight. A husband? At her age? But no, that wasn’t the point. Bunnie was opening up. She’d been a locked fortress for the most part regarding her past, and Winnie had begun to wonder if it was even worth finding anything out considering her obvious issues. She had had to repress a shudder when she’d take Bunnie to her room after that…incident. She knew Bunnie was hurting, Gertie had told her that the girl had sounded ‘...broken. Broken and trying to put together the pieces.’ Heck. she’d warned her that Bunnie might try something drastic. Had told her to stay calm, understanding. Supportive but not overbearing. 

She hadn’t expected THAT. Whatever caused her to hate her own body so…Winnie couldn’t imagine it. But she had vowed she’d try to help her anyway. Really, it was kind of just the person she was. She was lucky she’d heeded the mouse’s words. Already the ferret could tell this story wouldn’t end happily. 

Bunnie continued on, unknowing of this inner roiling from Winnie.  “We met in the war. His name was Antoine, an’ he was scared of his own shadow for the longest time,” she said, a soft chuckle coming out of her at old memories. “Yeah, we used to poke fun at him for it, but…I grew ta love him anyway. Afraid or not, he’d always do his best to fight with us.” Her forlorn expression had a wistful smile as she looked away, memories taking her back to a place Winnie couldn’t begin to imagine. “We…we got married. Part of it was kinda wild, but y’never know for certain, right? So why wait?” Winnie nodded. She could understand it. A whirlwind romance at the end of the world? Trying to carve out what affection could be had after it seemed all was lost? Yeah, she could very easily see it. Had seen it, in fact. She hadn’t done much with the Resistance, but she’d at least kept uniforms and weapons clean, quick as she was to bail after it was all over. 

“I guess now I’m gettin’ why he was so frightened all the time at first,” the rabbit continued, tears forming in her eyes now. “...a-and now that he’s not here anymore…I think he was the bravest outta all of us. I had tools ta get us through sticky situations, so I was the bold one. The cheery one, y’know? Kept everyone’s spirits up. An- an then I just…kept losin’ things.” Gaia, did Winnie hate the absolute emptiness Bunnie’s eyes shifted to as darker memories flashed behind those eyes. “Lost too many things, n’ places, n’ people.” A single, dead laugh managed to escape her. “Especially people.” Winnie didn’t dare ask for details. It was clear enough. “Next thing I know, I didn’t have just about anythin’ left, so I try to go an’ make things right however I can, and I can’t, an…and then I’m here.” The rabbit could barely lift her hands in a despondent shrug as she slumped down in her seat. “I didn’t…I’m tired of losin’ what I love. What I need. I’m just so…tired of it already. And I’m tired of reminding myself, but…but I miss it all so much, too.” She managed to lift her head, if only slightly to look the ferret in the eyes again. “...I ain’t good, Winnie. I ain’t right, not anymore. I…I might not ever be right.” Her eyes shook, and she broke eye contact with a jerk, tears falling down her face. Not as long as she was stuck here. Maybe not even if she made it home.

Winnie…Winnie took a deep breath. She wasn’t the best motivational speaker, but…she certainly had thoughts about that. “I…I’ll admit I don't feel I have the right to say ‘it’ll be okay’, but…that doesn’t mean I won’t be by your side for whatever you need.” She took the chance to get up, walk over. Put her hand on her shoulder. Fortunately, Bunnie didn’t recoil. “I know you might not like it, but…I think you need help. And I don’t know how much I can give to you…but remember? We’ll climb the mountain together. I’ll give you what I’ve got. I think…I think that, ‘right’ or not, it sounds like you deserve it. You deserve a little peace after fighting for so long.”

Bunnie blinked. Stopped, rolled the last sentence around in her head. Oddly enough, it didn’t feel like it should’ve been true. “But…fightin’s what I do. Been what I did for so long…” she muttered, seemingly subconsciously. Winnie was surprised. Another hint towards her mysterious past. Was she a mercenary or- or a pit fighter or something? Bunnie HAD been in quite good shape even when they first met…but no, that wasn’t important right now. “I mean, everyone’s got dreams, I guess, but…” Bunnie continued, trying to sound out thoughts she never thought would get past her innermost shell. “I think…I never…expected them to happen? Not really?” She blinked, then looked up at the ferret, who kept that calm smile on her face. “...yeah. I don’t think I expected to ever ACTUALLY stop fighting for one reason or another. Always wanted to be a hairdresser, but…something was always more important.”  

“Well, I’m telling you now,” Winnie said, a bit more confident- and a lot happier that Bunnie was choosing to share things about herself now. “You don’t have to fight. Not here, not for me, not anyone. Let the big bold heroes handle it. Let the Restoration handle it. You’ve fought enough already.” She paused, an idea coming to her. “I- do you…?” She spread her arms, and Bunnie all but collapsed in them, as Winnie hugged her tight. “It must’ve been rough. Real rough. But I promise I’ll be here for you.” This was all too familiar…but it was something she was happy to repeat. “You don’t have to fight anymore. You can rest now.”

Part of Bunnie didn’t get why she was being so nice to a stranger, but…well, she wasn’t a stranger to that herself, now was she? Maybe for once she could just… just receive the same. ‘I…this girl deserves better from me. I can’t just burden her with mah issues every time I feel a lil’ weepy. And…well. Getting some of it out did feel better. Maybe…maybe I can really just…rest a mite while I wait. Enjoy what’s here.’

The pain hadn’t gone away, hadn’t even really lessened, not yet. But…she felt it was just a little easier to deal with, now. Maybe she could hold on for longer than she thought. “Actually…weren’t there a movie you been wanting to watch?” 

Watching Winnie’s face light up told her it was the right decision.