Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ivo would rather admit he was the stupidest man alive before admitting the fondness he had for Agent Stone. Somehow, he had needed the man the way those alligators in documentaries need a bird to clean their teeth. Which was why he stood in front of a cloning machine with a vial of spit in his hand.

What, did all bosses not require their employees to do that?

The cloning machine was a rather fine piece of equipment, though, admittedly, not his best work. No, his best was most likely the Badniks (which were currently inspecting the machine with their scanners), with points for versatility and programmability. The cloning machine had one shiny metal opening in order to place a piece of DNA from the clonee (in this case, the saliva), and the other end had a grand metal opening in which the clone would emerge.

For a few minutes, Ivo had an internal debate on whether this Clone Stone and the Real Stone would have any variations in personality, as they are both the same person, but, simultaneously, they are not the same people. His conclusion had been that there might be slight variations, but they weren't anything he couldn't perfect through trial and error.

Ivo dropped the bottle inside the slot, waiting for the machine to scoop it up and give him a green light. From there, it clunked around and started to sound like a train was steadily approaching the area. He had a right mind to peek out the window and confirm one really wasn't, because the machine kept growing in sound and smoke.

Then, it beeped three times. Like a microwave.

"Oh, it worked! On the first try too!" Ivo said, to no one in particular. He almost skipped over to the door, opened it, and was met with a whole lot of nothing. Until he looked down.

A just-as-confused, somehow clothed kid stared back up at him. He was brownish, average height for a child, and looked older than a toddler but definitely not a middle schooler. Maybe five, six years?

Ivo stared at the kid on the floor. What the hell. This was NOT what he had in mind. That machine was going in the trash.

“...Hey.” He muttered. The kid looked up at him. He really did resemble Stone, and the attitude radiating off of Junior was remarkable. Ivo bent down to pick him up out of the machine.

“Dad.” The kid stated, and Ivo almost dropped him.

“NO.” He was NOT becoming a father to a failed experiment, let alone one that looked at him with his agent's eyes. He put Stone Junior on the laboratory countertop.

He looked over the kid, trying his best to not be rough (as the last thing he needed was a crying child, on top of the child part) until he was absolutely, positively sure this was a real child and not some sort of twisted insomniac hallucination he was having.

"Uhm. Hi. Let's play a game." Maybe he could keep the kid occupied until he could call somebody. "I'm Doctor Robotnik. And you are?"

"My name is Aban." The kid sheepishly muttered, looking around the room, vision lingering on the Badniks before returning to the doctor. Okay, so the cloning part didn't go wrong, he was just stuck with a mini Stone. This was going to be hard to put on a report.

"Okay, Aban," Wow, had he ever called Stone by his first name like that? "Listen. I am going to be right back. You do not move from here, or else you might die death by explosion, electrocution, or about ten other things I don't feel like listing off right now. Understood?" Stone Junior nodded.

Good. Ivo slipped out of the lab into the kitchen, and drew his phone from his pocket.
Ugh. Was he really going to resort to this? He could easily manage a failed experiment on his own. He took a peek at Pebble over in the lab and clicked the call button, bringing the phone up to his ear and bracing it with his shoulder.

One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings. If Stone didn't answer, he was being fired.
Four rings.

"Hello?" Stone's voice came clear through the speaker. Ivo almost sighed out of relief.

"Be inside the lab in twenty minutes. I'm not paying you for the day off."

---

Whatever Stone expected to see when he walked into the lab, it absolutely was not this. It was a lot to take in. First, there was the large machine smack-dab in the middle of the hallway, which he squeezed past to see the Second Thing, which was a small child sitting in a spare chair with a Badnik in his lap, almost as if to weigh him down. The third and final sight was Robotnik leaning over, talking to him using vocabulary the poor kid probably had no idea about.

"Good afternoon, Doctor." Stone said as normally as he could. Ivo jumped, and the kid looked at him. He gave Stone an uneasy feeling; the kid resembled someone, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Who's the kid?"

"You." Robotnik said bluntly. Stone raised his eyebrows, put down his bag, and made his way over to, apparently, mini him.

"I tried to clone you. Didn't work." Stone couldn't help but feel flattered. He waved at Junior, and he waved back, petting the robot in his lap.

"Aw, he's a Mini-Stone. A pebble. Rock-ette. Rocket." Stone moved the Badnik off the kid and watched him stand up, still staring at the agent wide-eyed. "You can be Rocket."

"Don't get too attached, sycophant. He's just a failed experiment. Name him if you want, I don't care." Robotnik grumbled.

"Why would I wanna be Rocket? My name is Aban," The kid insisted, walking around Stone.

"Because we already have an Aban." Robotnik snapped.

"Sir, uhm, permission to speak freely?" The gears in Stone's head were still turning about the whole cloning-thing - how the hell do you mess up so badly? But he wasn't about to say that.

The doctor rolled his eyes, then the kid did.

"What are you going to... do with him?" He had a slight worry that Robotnik was going to just dump him off somewhere, or worse, try to fix him or something.

Robotnik shrugged, looking uncharacteristically confused. "I don't know. Probably gonna have to report this to GUN. Hopefully they can take him."

--------

After a lot of persuasion, Ivo finally decided to bring Rocket - Stone had started calling him that, and he wasn't about to argue - to GUN. Rocket insisted on holding his hand as they walked to the door of Walters' office.
Stone knocked on the door. "Commander?"

Commander Walters opened the door after a few seconds, rubbing his eyes. "Why are you two here without an appointment? I'm a very busy-" He looked down, and shut up immediately.

"Come in." They obliged, and the Commander shut the door behind them and pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. Ivo sat, handing Rocket to Stone to sit on his knee.

"Agent. Doctor. Who the hell is that?"

Before Ivo could even open his mouth, Rocket was already talking. "My name is Rocket... I think you're really old."

Commander Walters raised his eyebrows, looking at Robotnik. "I'd like an explanation."
Okay. This was a great place to continue from. "Rocket is what happens when you give a scientist cheap materials for a cloning machine."

The Commander looked like he was about to ask who Rocket was a clone of, until he saw Stone.

"Well, I guess he'll have to get all the usual paperwork they do for newborns... if that's what he counts as." Commander Walters placed his elbows on the desk, dragging his face through his hands. "Listen, I'll give it to you two, just see what you want to do with it - him, and get the forms back to me by tomorrow."

Chapter Text

As soon as they got home, Stone placed the stack of papers on the kitchen countertop. Rocket stood directly behind him, and he was trying to not bump into him.

"Kid, can you please move from behind me?" Stone went to the coffee machine. Robotnik was probably tired. He knew he was. It was only 11 am, and he already had his cup of espresso shots for the day, but he was STILL tired.

Rocket peered over the countertop. "What're you doing?" He reached for a porcelain cup, and Stone quickly grabbed it from him.

"Making coffee. Why, you want some?" He jokingly offered, scooping the doctor's coffee beans into the machine.

"Yeah." Rocket reached for the cup again, this time getting to hold it before the agent could stop him. He looked at it, admiring the way the white shone in the light before putting it back on the counter and looking up at Stone.

Stone grabbed the cup from where he put it down and set it underneath the machine, turning it on. "I don't think you'd like it. It's bitter." The machine grumbled before slowly beginning to dispense the latte, smelling strongly. Rocket stared intently at it like he had never seen a coffee machine before.

Well. He hadn't.

"I don't care..." Rocket averted his gaze from the machine to Stone, putting his hands in his pockets. Stone watched the coffee finish dispensing, and the goat milk began to froth, steam lazily billowing from the top. "That stinks."

"Don't let the doctor hear you say that," Stone smiled, removing the hot cup from the coffee maker and setting it on the side, putting his coffee to brew. He took out the hot milk from the side of the machine and tilted the cup. Stone was only slightly worried about spilling it, in case Rocket moved and startled him. He started pouring it into a simple heart design since he wasn't sure if the doctor wanted it or not. If not, he'd drink it. Maybe give it to the kid.

Once he finished with the art, he leaned over and showed it to Rocket. "Do you like it?"

Rocket shrugged. "It's nice, I mean, I woulda done something better, but, you do you..."

Stone raised his eyebrows, making his way to the laboratory art of the lab where the doctor was bound to be. Rocket looked at the coffee that was still pouring from the machine, before trailing behind the agent as per usual. Stone liked him so far, even though he had only known the kid for about four to five-ish hours. Rocket talked a lot, was blunt, and also had a habit of calling the doctor 'Dad'. He hadn't called him anything besides "Hi" yet, but to be fair, he would also be a little hesitant to talk to the person he was supposed to be a clone of.

"I like your house..." Rocket mumbled behind him, the Badniks following the kid. Of course they did. When Stone started, those robots had watched his every move and followed him everywhere. Now they just tailed him around like a cat would, occasionally bumping into him if they wanted attention or needed repairs. Maybe that's why Robotnik hadn't gone mad from loneliness - his machines were pets enough.

Speaking (thinking?) of Robotnik, he was parked up at his desk as per usual. If Stone didn't know better, he'd say he saw him Googling "i tried to make a clone of my assistant but i made a kid instead reddit", but he closed it out as soon as the agent entered the room, spinning around in his chair to face him.

"Hello, Doctor," Stone beamed. "I thought you might like a latte." All the agent was met with was an eye twitch and the coffee being snatched from his hands.

"Rocket? Go to the other room." Robotnik ordered, and the kid looked like he was going to protest, before the doctor said "Now.". Rocket rolled his eyes - when did he start doing that? - and begrudgingly trudged into the kitchen.

"Agent."

Stone was going to get his ass handed to him. He felt it in his bones already, though he couldn't fathom what he had done wrong. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Cancel everything we have planned for today." Stone almost backflipped - 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘞𝘌! - "I have decided that we are going to the mall. The kid needs... stuff. We still have that laundered money somewhere, use it."

He had almost forgotten about that. "Yes, sir."

– – – – – – – –

They didn't have a car seat, so Ivo had just strapped the kid in the back and hoped they didn't run into any cops. Stone would probably want to get the kid a motorcycle helmet and gear. Maybe he already had some from when he was that young. Anyway, he had never bothered to ask Stone anything about his personal life that he hadn't already found out from his files, and he wasn't going to start now.

Ivo stared directly at the road, trying to not look to his left. Stone was driving, and for some reason, he didn't feel like antagonizing him. Rocket had most likely done that enough for the day, and it was only noon.

"Dad?" Rocket asked, and Ivo's eye twitched. He glanced in the rearview. The kid was stretching to see out the window, and yet his eyes barely peeked over.
"I'm NOT your dad."

"Can you just talk to him?" Stone snapped. He hit the blinker and it started beeping - the noise was going to drill through Ivo's head, but he STILL didn't feel like fighting his agent. Good grief. He was getting soft.

Ivo huffed and turned around. "What is it."

Rocket was halfway through the car door as Stone turned right. When he was sitting straight up again, he started talking, only to hang on to the seatbelt as the car turned left.

"Uhm. Where are we going?" The kid was still trying to peek over the car door. The only view he would have got was a concrete parking lot and some pathetic-looking pedestrians, so maybe it was good he couldn't see.

"The mall," Ivo stated bluntly.

"Why?" Rocket held on to the seatbelt again as Stone turned into an empty row, then got slammed back into the door when he went into a parking spot.

"Because you need stuff." The doctor rubbed his eyes, sneaking a glance at Stone, who had his full focus on parking straight. Or maybe he was trying not to look at him.

Rocket was close to sliding off the front of the seat. "Why?"

"Because you don't have anything." Ivo unbuckled the seatbelt Stone had insisted he wore - something about being a good influence. The car grumbled as the agent shut it off, and both of them got out. Ivo opened Rocket's door, waiting for him to get out.
"Come on." It only occurred to him that the kid couldn't get out no matter how much he stared at him; for him, the floor was probably three feet below.

Ugh. Ivo didn't want to pick him up. Nevertheless, he awkwardly grabbed the kid like a box and set him down on the pavement. "Better?" He asked, slightly sarcastically. Rocket nodded and grabbed his hand, dragging him over to Stone, who he could tell was trying not to smile.

"Sir, where are we going first?" Stone held the door open for him, the air conditioning hitting him in the face like a brick. He heard Rocket sigh like Stone did when he entered behind him. So all the clone-ness wasn't gone.

"Clothes." Ivo declared. He HATED this mall. Well, any mall in general, or any place that had a large collection of mouthbreathers. All he wanted was to get in and out. Why didn't he send Stone with a list?

After walking around for a few minutes, they found a store that displayed kid's clothes in the window. Ivo all but yanked Rocket in behind him before prying his hand out of his. "Okay. Go find some clothes or something." He watched the kid meander around, and he followed him around as he explored. It was like he had never been in a mall before.

Well. He hadn't.

"He's cute, isn't he?" Stone appeared beside Ivo so quickly he almost flinched. Ivo rolled his eyes and walked a few more steps behind the kid, who was currently holding a shirt with some cheesy motorcycle joke on it. His face was scrunched up in concentration as he tried to read it.

"Don't go soft," Ivo told his agent before he walked over to Rocket and held out his hand for the shirt. "Can you not read it?" He asked, though it came out more as a statement than a question. The kid shook his head. "I only picked it up because there was a bike on it..."

Ivo heard Stone laugh behind him, and he turned around. "Was this how you were?" Rocket handed him the shirt and started to look around again, this time ruffling through another shirt pile. They'd have to find pants or something for him because he didn't seem too interested in looking in that part of the store.

It took just about half an hour until Ivo determined they probably had enough clothes until he figured out what he was going to do with Rocket. Stone held one pair of jeans (he could wear it twice - he didn't seem the type of kid to start rolling around in the mud), a pair of slacks, two shorts, and some other stuff Stone had said a kid would need. Rocket held his clothes that he picked out - two shirts with motorcycles on them - and two polos Ivo had told him to pick up.

"This is a lot of money," Rocket said, drawing out a laugh from some soccer mom and her kid. Ivo glared at her, and she quickly shut up.

"Don't worry about it." He made his way towards the cash register (no line, thank goodness,) and Stone greeted the clerk before putting the clothes down. Rocket did the same, and the clerk greeted all of them, praising Rocket for "being a big boy." Ivo almost rolled his eyes again, but he stayed stoic.

“Is that all?” The clerk asked, and he grumbled a “Yes.”

“Alright, that’ll be $75.09... If you create an account with us, you’ll get twenty percent off this purchase.”

He ran the calculation in his head. It wasn’t a bad deal, and he didn’t know how often they’d have to come back here. “Sure.”

"Okay... would your partner like to create one as well?" The clerk asked, and before he properly wrapped his head around those words, he said "No." She nodded and handed him the receipt and the clothes, and he mumbled a thanks.

Ivo handed his agent the bag. "What are you looking at, Stone?"

-----

Four hours. It took four dreadful, slogging hours in that mall. Stone was juggling about six large bags and a car seat as he fumbled for the car keys, opening the door to drop in the seat. Ivo stood beside him, as per usual, and when his agent went to put the bags in the trunk, he once again awkwardly lifted Rocket up into the seat.

“Is it satisfactory?” He asked, and Stone said, “Rocket, does the seat feel fine?” from the trunk. The kid nodded. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
“Good,” Ivo stated, buckling in the seatbelt and then tightening it. “Is it still... fine?” Rocket nodded.

The drive back was a silent one. Rocket didn’t talk a whole lot, for a kid at an age range where they usually never shut up. He occasionally mumbled something silently to himself as he peered out the window, but nothing was directed towards him or Stone.

-------------

9 PM. Ivo had since gotten Rocket to eat some food Stone bought a few days ago, and kept him busy with a workbook they had picked up from the mall. He looked dead focused on it, writing out the alphabet like there was no tomorrow, then doodling on the side.

"...Are you tired?" Ivo asked, watching the kid rub his eyes.

"No. I'm fine." Rocket insisted, and the doctor didn't order him to go to bed. Did he want to stay up late? Fine with him.

Ten minutes later. Another yawn.

"Not tired..." Ivo rolled his eyes, scribbling at the leftover schematic.

Rocket shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

Within another twenty minutes, Ivo looked back up at him. Rocket was passed out cold, his head on the table. The kid snored.

Ivo pushed the schematics to the side and got up, walking over to him. He didn't know how to pick him up, Stone did that. It was from the arms.. right? He reached out and gently held him, before managing to get a grip on the kid, delicately picking him up and resting his head on his shoulder.

Rocket still slept. Good God, this kid could sleep through an earthquake. Ivo pushed in the chair he was sitting in and practically tiptoed to his room since it was the only soft area in the house.

It was a mess. Rocket probably wouldn't care. Ivo precariously set down the kid on the bed, and he still slept. He pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, squarely tucking it in.

This felt weird to Ivo. Unnatural. He didn't know how to do any of this shit, and he was horrible at it. He looked at the kid, peacefully asleep. Rocket deserved better than whatever he had to offer. A good family, not someone who had none. And what if Ivo died or something? What if he had to go on a mission and Rocket couldn't come along with them? The kid would be alone, just as alone as he had been at his age.

Ivo pulled off his glove and reached out to smooth Rocket's hair. He stirred slightly but stayed asleep. The touch on his bare hand was new - he was pretty sure he had only ever held the kid with his gloves on - but still, he couldn't let himself get emotionally attached.

The kid had to go.

----

Robotnik came back out of the room, wordlessly sitting down by Stone. He wanted to say something, but the doctor seemed... sullen. Kind of odd, but it was probably because Rocket was in his bed. Stone knew Robotnik would sleep in the chair anyway.

Since they had been putting off the paperwork for so long, Stone grabbed the stack and put it in between them, grabbing a pen from inside his suit jacket. Robotnik huffed and did the same, taking a few papers and putting them on his side. It couldn’t be that complex. Right?

Wrong. On the second question, he hit a roadblock. 'Child's Last Name'.

"Doctor." Stone started, looking nervously at the paper. "Uhm, what will his last name be?"

Robotnik leaned over, tilting the paper towards himself. “Well, since he’s my experiment, I’d say he’s a Robotnik.” Seemingly, that was the final choice, before he started up again. “He is your clone, though. What... What do you think?" He said, almost hesitantly.

“We could just hyphenate our last names. If that’s alright with you, I mean...” Stone added quickly. Why did he think that was a smart suggestion?? The doctor wouldn't want both of their last names on Rocket -

"Good. I'll put my name first, then yours." Before Stone had any time to protest, he had already written 'Robotnik-Stone' on the paper, moving to fill out the other boxes.

Chapter Text

Ivo woke up, head on his desk. Ow. His neck hurt. Achingly, he peeled himself off of the desk and rubbed his eyes. Why the hell did he sleep there?
The memory of the day past flowed into his head as he got up, nearly every joint in his upper torso popping. He needed to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. But, Ivo did remember who was occupying his regular bed. Rocket.

Okay. The kid was probably still asleep. He walked into the kitchen to down a glass of water, only to be met with the sight of Rocket sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling away at his sketchbook.

"GOOD MORNING!" Rocket said happily. It was like if the sun could talk and was inhabiting the body of a five-year-old clone. "I'm hungry."

“Morning. What do you want to eat.” He asked, looking over at the kid, who tilted his head and averted his gaze from him. “What do you have?”

Ivo peered inside the fridge. There was leftover Chinese from two days ago (they had ate that for dinner last night), a bottle of store-brand cold brew, and a few packs of cheese. Maybe he should send Stone to the grocery store.

“...Chinese. You ate it last night.” Ivo wanted to wait for Stone, but he couldn't leave the kid hungry. Luckily, the kid nodded and went back to doodling. Note, if Ivo was going to keep him around, he’d have to have food. Normal kids needed to eat, right?

Ivo reached for the plastic box and opened it to smell it (it wasn't expired yet) and put it in the microwave. He waited for it to beep, then took it out, put a fork in the container, and set it down in front of the kid, who looked at it, then him, and smiled.

"This still smells good," The kid said, and started downing it in a way that was reminiscent of the average perpetually starving teenager. Ivo watched as half of the lo mein disappeared in about thirty seconds.

"Try not to choke. Throw out the container when you're done and put the fork in the sink." The doctor sat down a chair away from him and reached for the stack of papers him and Stone had filled out the night before, half to busy himself and half to avoid starting a conversation. He needed a latte.

Just about half an hour later, Stone's keys came jingling in the front door lock, and Rocket looked up raptly from his drawing. "It's just Stone." Ivo said, and the kid looked a lot less worried.
The agent in question finally got the door open, and he came through with a few reusable bags in his hand. He set them down on the counter, looked over at them, looked away, then looked back like he had thought he was alone.

"Oh. Good morning, Doctor, morning, Rocket." Stone smiled, and Ivo grumbled out a "Morning," which was largely overshadowed by Rocket's enthusiastic "GOOD MORNING!" and the way he jumped out of the seat like it was on fire to go stand by the agent.

Rocket peered over the counter, eyeing what Stone had brought in. "What's in the bags?"

"Groceries. Did you eat, yet, kid?" It was nice to reconfirm Stone still had sense once in a while.

"Yeah. I had Chinese food. Dad didn't eat." Ivo had all but given up on stopping the kid from calling him that, but to no avail. Whatever.

Stone started packing away the groceries as he put the coffee machine to prep itself. "Sir, do you want anything? I ate at home."

"I'm fine." He insisted as the agent put a cup underneath the coffee machine and waited.
"Can I have coffee?" Rocket asked, to which he was met with a synchronized "No."

---------------

It was almost pathetic how quickly Ivo had folded into dropping the kid off at GUN (more like handing him to Walters with a bag stuffed with workbooks and a pack of crayons, saying "We'll be back.") while they completed another duty that was on the form - putting the kid in kindergarten.

𝘚𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭. When was the last time Ivo had thought about THAT. He hadn't even been in elementary for a year before they threw him into middle school at 7, then high school at 10, and then college in one whopping whirlwind he called his 'childhood'.

Ivo sighed. It wasn't that he had hated school, he hated the kids in it. Every subject was boring, not because it was stupid, but because the skills came so easily to him that he could learn an entire subject in a day. He turned his head to look out the window at the strip mall Stone was driving by.

"Sir?" Stone asked.

The doctor didn't look over at him.

"What, Stone."

"Do you think it was smart leaving Rocket with Walters?" Stone turned into the parking lot of the school, which was mostly full. "I mean, he's... okay and all, but what do you think he's going to do with him?"

"What could be the worst to happen? He tries to get a five-year-old to join the military?"

-------------

Walters huffed, looking at the kid in his office who was currently scribbling something out with crayons. Not another goddamn Robotnik. Well, Robotnik-Stone in this case. He had had enough of them in his lifetime, and now there was a fourth (?). And he wasn’t even a blood Robotnik either, he was some weird clone of Aban.

"Rocket." The kid looked up, almost as if he was annoyed by being interrupted. Then, he looked back down, continuing to do whatever he was doing. “Yeah?”

Walters didn’t know what to say. All his years in the military, all his years in the army, all the time he spent with Ivo and Maria when they were teenagers, and he didn't even know how to talk to a little kid. “What’re you drawing?’ The kid sighed.

“A bike.” He said, pulling the paper even closer to him as if the commander would take it away. “It’s got - it’s got really big, uh, engine, so it goes super fast, and I can ride it to go wherever I want.” Rocket didn’t show the paper to Walters. He didn’t even look up once while saying this.

“I see.” The commander murmured. Anyway, he had his stuff to accomplish, and he couldn’t do it with this kid tailing him the whole day. GUN used to allow kids to follow their caregivers around where they worked but... yeah. That wasn’t a thing anymore. No one there, at least, brought their children. Mostly because they were either fresh out of high school themselves or since the base was close enough to Green Hills, they could put their kids in daycare or something there.

“Did you want to walk around, bud?” Walters offered.

“Don’t call me ‘bud.’ I don’t like it.” Rocket snapped. Okay, sore spot, noted for later.

“Sorry. Did you want to walk around? See some of the other workers here? Maybe even run into some other kids?” Walters hoped the kid wanted to. Maybe this place did have a daycare or something he could leave him at. Not that he wanted to abandon him, but he had things to do that would be hard to do with a little kid.

Rocket sighed and stopped drawing. He glanced at the commander, not nervously, but more tentatively, as if he was reluctant to answer. Or annoyed. Probably annoyed. “...I guess.” He started to put away his crayons back into the box, and folded up his paper, grabbing his oversized bag and putting it inside.

Walters watched him. This was so weird. He had wanted to ask Ivo why the HELL he had tried to clone Aban, but he felt the answer would be even weirder than the question. When had he even given him the materials TO MAKE a damn cloning machine?! And it worked. Walters had never known Aban before he had come to work with GUN, but if he had been told this was him as a kid, he would have wholeheartedly believed it.

Besides the small waves that curled the kid’s hair, everything just looked like Aban - but lots of people had different hair as a kid, though, so he couldn’t say that was weird - or the agent just straightened his hair now. But the eyes, the nose, the sidelong glances and the snappy way Rocket answered authority, it was all just reminiscent of Aban. How much of that was the kid’s own personality, and how much was leftover from cloning?

“I’m done.” Rocket announced. He stood up and put the too-big backpack on, still looking at the Commander like he inconvenienced him. What was his PROBLEM?

“Alright b- uh, Rocket.” Stupid name, too. At least Ivo had sounded nice. Rocket Robotnik-Stone. Didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

They left his office and Walters started on routine checks, the kid tailing him. He had loudly denied his offer to hold his hand, so the commander had to trust that he wouldn’t bolt off or get lost. The occasional “Who’s the kid, Commander?” was responded with a loud “Who’re you?” from Rocket.

After about twenty minutes, Walters had finished with the first round of checks. “How you doing, kiddo?” He said, hoping that nickname didn’t agitate the kid. If it did, he didn’t show it. “Fine. When’s my dad comin’ back?”

Dad? Oh, he must mean Robotnik, right? “I don’t know, but he shouldn’t be too long.” Walters turned the corner and was met with the sight of two kids who looked to be a bit older than Rocket. He looked down to the clone, pointing towards them.

"Rocket, you wanna play with them 'til the doctor gets back?" The kid tentatively nodded, walking towards them.

////

Rocket hadn't seen another kid yet. He had only seen adults, but the other kids seemed pretty happy to see 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

"Hii! You wanna play with us?" Kid #1 asked. Rocket smiled and nodded.

"Yeah! What'd'you wanna play?" Rocket said enthusiastically. He hadn't had friends before. Hopefully he could see them again.

The two kids looked at each other, before one leant over and whispered something that the other giggled and nodded at. "Hide and seek?" They offered.

Rocket nodded, and stepped back a bit. "Are you gonna count?" Other Kid #1 nodded, and Other Kid #2 went to stand by him. "Turn around, cheater!" Kid #2 yelled at his friend, and he was met with a "Go away!" before he started counting.

Quickly, they scrambled down the other hallway. "Where'd'you wanna hide?" Rocket asked.

"We should split up, so he doesn't find us both at the same time." Kid #2 stated. Before Rocket could blink, the other kid reached up behind him, opened the door he wasn't aware was there, and shoved him in.

Rocket hit the closet door. "Hey. Hey, come on, let me out!" He couldn't see anything, but he knew it was a cleaning supply closet only from the flash of light he had seen before he was shoved in here. The giggles of the kid emanated from outside the door.

"This isn't funny. Come ON!" Rocket banged on the door as loudly as he could before his hand started aching. He was going to die in here. No one would come looking for him. No one knew he was gone. His dad would probably blame the commander, but it wasn't entirely his fault.
Rocket sat on the floor, trying to figure out his options. Opening and closing his eyes had no difference. It was pitch black in there, not even a crack at the bottom of the door, and he doubted he could've even reached the light switch if there was one. He could feel tears beginning to push their way out of his eyes, and he tried his best to push them back - he didn't have time to cry.

But they still fell. Rocket sat there and sniffled, wiping every single tear from his face for about five minutes, before trying to re-collect himself. He wasn't a baby, he could be alone in the dark for a little while.

------------

Luckily, the front office was empty. The room stunk of air freshener, and the obnoxious tapping of a keyboard emanated from behind the desk. Ivo approached it, and Stone followed behind him.

The woman looked up, silent for a moment. “Can I help y’all?” She asked, a drawl lacing her voice.

Ivo looked at Stone (who had preemptively agreed to do the talking because he often came down to Green Hills and, therefore, might know some people here and vice-versa).
“Hi, we’d like to enroll our son in this school, how would we go about doing it?”

The woman looked taken aback for a quick moment, before getting up and ushering them through a door on the side of the office. Then, she led them into another room, which was boringly boring compared to the rest of the hallway, which was decorated with things kids would probably be interested in.

"So, y’all wanna begin the enrollment process for your son?" The woman asked.

Before Ivo could push out the old 'he's not our son, he's a failed lab experiment' explanation, Stone said "Yes," and pulled out seats for both of them. "We, uhm, heard that this was one of the best schools in the area, especially for STEM." There was a nervous lilt in Stone's words, but it wasn't anything the woman picked up on or reacted outwardly to.

"I see." The woman said. "Okay, there are some forms you two will need to fill out, let me go grab them." She got up and pushed her chair in, before disappearing through the door. Ivo reached up and dug his nails into Stone's shoulder, forcing the agent to look at him.

"Sir?"

"𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘯?" Ivo said, not accusatory, but more perplexed. Sure, he often blatantly stated that he was NOT Rocket's dad, but he still thought of himself as his creator. Albeit, he did have Stone's DNA and name, so it wasn't a completely unjustifiable statement.

Stone looked like he wanted the hand out of his shoulder, but he just shrugged. "It's easier to say that then explain to her the whole... situation." He could almost feel how hot the agent's face was getting all the way from his shoulder. "And it might make them respect us more, sir. You know, saying we're a wealthy scientist couple with a smart kid might give us the upper hand because they know we work for the 'government'." He said the word like it was a slur.

Ivo was going to respond, but the woman returned with a fat pile of papers, which she set down on the desk in front of them. "Now, you two can begin filling these out here, or you can take them and return by the end of the week, to which I will see that your child can begin on Monday - which, nine times out of ten, they can, and if they can't it's by Tuesday." She said lightheartedly, as if expecting a laugh from either man in front of her. The most she got was a strained smile out of Stone, whose patience, Ivo could tell, was spread pretty thin by now.

"We'll return with them. Thank you for your time, ma'am." Stone extended his arm for a handshake and got up, picking up the stack of forms neatly. Ivo just stared at her before following his agent outside.

Ivo was 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴. It was a first for him. Usually, his self-assuredness would balance out any doubt he had, but this wasn't a test on a robot or a presentation in front of all of GUN, this was about a KID. He hadn't even meant to create him, and now he was already being shoved headfirst into all this parenting shit. He wrung his hands as Stone opened the car.

"Stone." Ivo started, sitting down in the front seat, not looking over at the agent when he continued. Ugh. He didn't want to ask this. It felt so stupid, and he was being too honest, but he wanted to know. "Don't you think the kid would be happier with someone else?"

Stone looked like he was going to say something, but he kept going. "I mean, like, the regular nuclear family, you know? Just because I made him doesn't mean he has to be stuck here." He sounded so stupid, but it seemed like common knowledge; a kid deserved better than a scientist and his henchman.

Ivo glanced over at the agent, who looked to be carefully planning out his words. "Doctor, he sees you as his dad. I think he likes us well enough, at least, I hope so. And, even if he does end up going away, who would take in a clone of someone they've never met?" Stone began backing out of the parking spot, expertly avoiding eye contact.

Ivo hated when Stone made sense.

-----------

Nearly as soon as they returned to the lab, they began working on the thick stack. The school needed everything from a birth (creation?) certificate to a list of favourite colours. Stone and Ivo sat side-by-side so each could hand the other forms that needed their writing. Rocket sat across from them, drawing a "schem-tatic" He had been quiet and uncharacteristically terse since they picked him back up. A Badnik hovered over him, affectionately bumping into him like a cat, which seemed to loosen him up a bit.

"'Parent/Guardian #2's Profession'" Ivo read incredulously. "Why the hell do they need to know what I do?" Stone jabbed him in his rib for that, and he had a right mind to knock him on the floor like in the old days. However, Rocket's new (well. not-so-new, but it was becoming more common) thing was imitating whatever they did, said, or designed, so they had to be wary of what they said around him.

"Just put 'scientist'," Stone replied.

Rocket started scribbling even harder at his page, and he leaned over to look, only for the kid to glare at him in a way that pretty much reflected the doctor. "What're you drawing, Rocket?" He asked, getting the hint and returning to his own scribbling.
"I'm drawling - I'm drawing me and Walters." The kid said, and from the glimpse he got, it was an average photo you'd expect from a kindergartener - stick figures, a blue sky, ec cedera. "I think I was mean to him."

Ivo stated a "Good." Stone glared at him, before telling the kid "That's nice. You wanna see him again? You'd be the first." He laughed. Rocket didnt, and coloured in the blue sky even harder.

----------------

Since the Doctor had tucked the kid in the night before, Stone took it upon himself to make sure the kid did everything he was supposed to; brushing his teeth, etc. He bought the kid most of the hygienic stuff he had used, so there was a guarantee he'd like it and wouldn't have to hunt for some random brand.

Right then, Rocket was sitting half upright in the bed, still oddly silent and sullen compared to how he had been normally.

It couldn’t kill him to ask, right? Maybe something had happened at GUN? "You doing alright, before I go?"

Apparently, that was enough to set the kid off, because he let out a sound like a squeaky toy before tears started falling from his eyes. He moved over to Stone and buried his head in his chest, to which he awkwardly looped his arm around Rocket and held him, trying to get a proper glimpse of him.

"Hey, hey, come on, what happened, Rocket?" Stone asked, looking down at the kid who had latched himself onto him. In the day-and-three-quarters Rocket had been alive, he hadn't been this clingy. Or sad.

"Can you stay?" The kid muttered, like he was embarrassed to ask, letting go of the agent, before looking away and wiping his eyes. He looked so sad. Stone would have to press more later, but it was already pretty late, and he just wanted the kid to sleep.

"Yeah, sure." Stone scooted down on the bed and made sure the kid was comfortable under the sheet before laying halfway down. He was halfway off the bed - how did the doctor ever sleep here - but he could hear the kid, and he could see the kid, and that was enough to make him relax. At least he was okay.

Chapter Text

Two days had passed since they registered Rocket in school. The woman had called Ivo and said he was able to start on Monday, thankfully. He might get a little quiet time around the lab. Not that he hated the kid as much as he used to, but he already nearly destroyed two projects that he was supposed to bring to GUN.

Stone had since been staying overnight, dropping by his own house everyday when he needed something, which he had brought a lot of stuff. Rocket seemed to sleep better when he was there, so the agent had obliged. The bathroom that was originally just Ivo's housed products ranging from kids flavored toothpaste to cheap cologne. It was... new. He had never had this many people WANTING to be around him like this since, well, never.

Rocket's stuff was also spread throughout most of the lab. Not the parts where they worked, but the kitchen housed a small container of his drawing materials. Stone had hung up a drawing he made on his end of the lab (and Ivo would never tell anyone, but he kept the drawing for him in a folder, safely stored at the bottom of the cabinet), the kid had found a few toys (he didn't know the name, but they were robots and automobiles - it was a good idea for a machine.) and they were propped up on the kitchen table, ec cedera.

Right then, he was boredly rifling through the kid's backpack (Stone ordered him) making sure he had what he needed for school. The agent had bought what was on the list the woman from the school had sent him, and it all seemed to be in order. He zipped up the bag and set it on the ground, waiting for Rocket to appear from wherever he was. They were fairly early according to Stone, but he wanted Rocket to get here as quickly as possible because they had to go into GUN to talk to some mouth-breathing officials. Ugh.

"Stone!" Ivo picked up his latte and took a sip - disgusting, it had gotten cold. "When are we going, it's 7:30 already!"

"This would go faster if 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 would let me put coconut oil on his hair!" Stone yelled, which was met with a passionate "𝘐 𝘏𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘖𝘐𝘓!!!!"

Ivo sighed and sat down, finishing the rest of the coffee just for the hell of it. He waited for another five-ish minutes until Rocket came out, looking annoyed. Stone had won the argument, and his hair shined and was tamed as best as he possibly could, and he wore the clothes they had bought for him at the store; a red polo and jeans.

"If I come back and your hair is frizzy, I'm going to find another oil. They don't make the brand I used to use." Stone said, smoothing out the kid's hair, only for him to squirm away.

Ivo sighed exasperatedly. "We're going." He picked up Rocket's bag and went out the front door, making the two of them follow him. He opened Stone's car door, put the back in the backseat, and when Rocket appeared behind him, he put him in the car seat and buckled him in. "Is it fine?" He gruffly asked, to which the kid nodded.

Once Stone got in and started the car, the drive was mostly silent. Ivo didn't want to talk, he was still dreading the presentation, thinking about having to rub elbows with those high-class snobs.

"Rocket?" Stone suddenly asked, snapping Ivo out of his daydream. The kid looked away from the window and towards the agent. "Yeah?"

"Just to let you know, uhm, tell us if anyone bothers you, right? And you're going to take the bus home because me and your father will be at GUN." Your father. Ivo had grudgingly accepted that the kid wouldn't call him anything but 'Dad'. "The Badniks will be at home to watch you, and we really shouldn't be too long, so don't worry, okay?" Stone turned the car down onto the street where the school was.

Rocket nodded. "What're you gonna do there?" He went back to looking out the window.

"Nothing interesting, just a boring presentation. I'm dreading it." Stone said, this time pulling into the school parking lot.

"What's dreading mean?" The kid asked.

Stone turned into a parking spot, luckily finding one almost immediately. "It means you don't want to do something."

"I'm dreading school." Rocket grumbled as he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached over to grab his backpack.

---------------

Rocket stood statue-still in the door of his classroom. He didn't want to go in there and he wasn't being shy about it. Stone stood to the side of Ivo, trying to reason with him.

"Rocket, it's just for a few hours, then you'll go home! Look, why don't you go talk to your teacher?" Stone pleaded. The kid looked over at Ivo, as if he would have a different opinion.

"Go inside. Now." He ordered, and Rocket trudged into the classroom.

Ivo leaned over to Stone. "He's gonna hate it here."

The agent nodded. "I didn't like school." That was surprising to Ivo, but he didn't say anything.

They watched the kid put his stuff away, guided by the teacher, and sit down at a table of kids, looking uncomfortable the whole time until he realized that they were having free time - then he eagerly grabbed a coloured pencil out of the box and began scribbling.

The teacher started walking over to them and Ivo was already dreading this. Him and Stone had put themselves as Rocket's parents, and now she was probably going to interrogate them for looking gay or something.

She didn't. Instead, she introduced herself (her name wasn't important enough for Ivo to remember - he'd just ask Stone, anyways) and asked some questions about what they did for a living (scientists), how nice it was of them to take in a kid (they had also conveniently omitted the fact that he was a clone on his school papers, instead, putting that they had adopted him and he had no birth documentation, which wasn't a complete lie), and some general questions about what Rocket liked, disliked, how he reacted to other kids (he hadn't been around many), etc.

"Alright, I hope you two have a wonderful day, I'm sure Rocket will love it here!" She said, before ushering them out. Stone had waved goodbye to the kid, and Ivo didn't get a chance to say 'good luck'.

---------------------

Rocket was NOT having a "wonderful day." He wanted to go home. No matter how much fun books he got to flip through and worksheets he finished quickly, he missed his parents.

---------------

Ivo was NOT having a "wonderful day" preparing one of his precious machines for GUN. The stupid thing had woken up while Stone was driving and hit its head on the trunk, rendering it inept a whole half an hour before they had to show it to those stupid pigs in power.

Right then, Ivo was crouched over said machine, attempting to get it working. Stone lingered behind him, ready to assist. Right as he held out his hand for a wrench, the goddamn machine blew up in his face.

"Agent. Where's the wrench." He insisted, wiping off his goggles and placing them on top of his head.

"Sir," Stone said, his voice laced with a smile. "There's soot all over your face, I hardly think this is the most professional look in front of GUN." He left the room for a moment before Ivo could tell him that GUN could stick a wrench up their asses, then came back with a handful of damp paper towels, holding them out to him.

"Agent." Ivo started. "Look around. There's not exactly any mirrors in this room, and this is now a highly volatile machine. If I leave to do something as stupid as WIPE my FACE and this explodes, you don't know how to disable it again."

Stone retracted the towels. Ivo thought he would simply throw them out, but his agent gently took his jaw and cleaned some of the soot off his cheek.

This was slightly better than being covered in dust, and he had no real complaints. As Stone worked, Ivo studied the man. He looked so focused, and his grip was gentle, as if he were fragile.
He wasn't. Stone knew that. But it was... appreciated. The gritty, powdery feeling of the dust disappeared off his face wipe by wipe, and he slowly leaned down for Stone to reach another spot.

Ivo didn't want to think about how intimate this was. And there was no order behind it, no demand, Stone was WIPING SOOT off his FACE out of his own free will. What the hell kind of maniac would do that??

"It's gone, sir. You look good as ever." Stone smiled, letting go of his face. And, oddly enough, Ivo wanted him to hold it again, but all he did was stand up and pat the agent on the shoulder.

"Good job, Stone." He said, snapping his goggles back over his face and getting back to work.

----------------

Home. Thank goodness. Hopefully Rocket didn't have to return there again tomorrow. He looked up at the Badnik at the front door, which chirped happily upon seeing him.

"Hi. Will you let me in?" He asked, and it opened the door. Rocket walked through and pushed it closed behind him, setting down his backpack by the door.

The house was hauntingly empty.
"Helloo?"
No one answered. Stone did tell him that they had some work at GUN (and that he'd give Walters his drawing!) and that they'd be back as quickly as possible, just to busy himself while they were out. The Badniks would watch him if he got into any trouble, Stone said, so be good.
Rocket made a beeline for his sketchbook sitting on the table, and the Badnik followed him again. He giggled, sitting down as it came down to eye level and scanned him again. "Hi!" He turned around to open his box of crayons before the Badnik dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. The other ones lingering in the other rooms did the same, and he was going to get up to investigate before the lights went out.

Great! Just what he needed. Before Rocket could freak out too much, they turned back on and an ANCIENT looking old man appeared behind the countertop of the kitchen. He looked around, as if expecting to be alone, before his eyes settled on the kid. Rocket felt uneasy at his presence, but didn't break eye contact. He should call the cops.

"Ivo! It's so nice to see you! I'm your grandfather, Gerald, but you can call me Grandpa." The old man said, not moving from where he was but waving his arms eccentrically.

"I'm not Ivo." Rocket stated.

"You're not Ivo." Gerald grumbled, looking down at the kid with disdain. "What do you mean, you're not Ivo?!"

Rocket huffed. "Nuh-uh." He crossed his arms and eyed Gerald, mirroring his hate for fun. "My name is Rocket. You wanna - you wanna know my full name? I just got it, y'know, it's Rocket Robotnik-Stone." He said proudly.

The old man sighed, rubbing his face. "All this trouble I went through, and you're not even him. You're a Robotnik? Bullshit. You're not even a genius. Everyone knows Robotniks are smart."

"I AM a Robotnik!" Rocket shouted. "I am, it's in my last name! You're a big fat JERK!" His chest heaved with every word, and it was his first time in his five days of life being this... mad. And he didn't want to be.

Gerald went into the fridge, removing the probably-expired white rice from the Chinese food. "Who the hell is Stone, then? Wife? Girlfriend? Old flame? He opened the rice box, smelled it, and promptly threw it in the garbage.

Rocket was quiet for a moment, resuming his ever-growing collection of motorcycle drawings, pressing so hard on the crayon the wax went crumbling over the paper. Who was Stone to him, anyways? The older version of him? The person who tucked him in, who slept in his bed when he was nervous, who dropped him off to school, who talked to him, who made his life somehow... better? He liked Stone. He liked Stone a lot. Stone did what his dad did, so was he not Dad #2?

"I'm a clone of- of him." Rocket said, pressing his finger into the crumbled black crayon to smudge it into the bike. "And he takes care of me, and Dad does, too, so he's, like, my other dad." This prompted a dry coughing fit from Gerald. Ew.

"So who's your mom?" Gerald said, wheezing. "Don't tell me they're fags,"

"I'm a clone, I just said that!" Rocket stated, wiping his crayon-stained finger on a napkin before grabbing a blue crayon to colour the sky. "I don't have a mom. What's a fag?"

Before Gerald could say anything else, the jingle of keys along with his dad's ranting was was audible from the door, and when it opened, Stone was turned around, saying "The cameras just went out, sir I'm sure nothing happened-" before seeing Gerald. In one swift motion, he dropped the folders he was holding on the floor, reached inside his jacket, pulled out his pistol, and aimed it at the old man.
That was the coolest thing Rocket had ever seen.

--------------

One normal day. One normal day was all Stone wanted. One day without GUN telling him the kid might not be able to remain in their custody, one day without Rocket saying he was being bullied at school, one day without the Doctor's wonderful machines breaking down and almost killing them. One boring day was all he wanted.

But no-o-o! This day had been turning out great, besides the fact that they had a presentation (that usually just ruined his whole day, but Stone wanted to stay somewhat positive, even if it almost killed them.). He had spoken to Rocket's teachers about him being picked on, they had managed to work out the problems with the Doctor's machines so they would stop exploding randomly, AND his latest order of coffee beans had come in the mail.
Now he was holding a gun to an old (well, nearly ancient) man's face in front of his kid. This type of thing probably caused trauma, right?

"Stay still." Stone ordered, slowly walking towards the man. "Who are you?"

"I'm looking for my grandson." He announced, and Stone started to ask who he was again, before he said "Doctor Ivo Robotnik. Does the name ring a bell?'

The doctor, behind him, let out a dramatic gasp.
Thank goodness. Stone was scared Rocket was starting to make him normal.

"Agent, lower your weapon." Robotnik ordered, and who was he to protest, no matter how much he didn't trust this man? All he did was SAY he was the doctor's grandfather, there was no proof. And wasn't all his family dead?
Stone lowered the gun. He watched the doctor tentatively approach the old man, and he realized they did look familiar. Almost the same.

"Same hair - or lack thereof," HIS Robotnik mused, circling this 'grandfather'. "You were able to decode my technology... same mustache...." This went on for a few more minutes, and all Stone could do was stand there awkwardly. He glanced at the kid - who he forgot was there - and he seemed oddly calm. Like some man breaking into their house happened every time he came home. Maybe it did and he never told them.

"Grandad?" His doctor said, and he latched onto the old man like a lifeline.

------------

It had been three hours since Gerald had entered their house, and Stone was sick of him already. He never stopped talking, asking questions, and he had said about 4 different slurs, most of which were directed to the agent.

"So. Who are you to my grandson?" The old hag asked, standing up behind him as he sat at his desk, reviewing some of his doctor's redesigns.

Stone pretended to be deeply interested in his work. Well, he was, but still. "I'm the doctor's assistant."

"Why is there a clone of you across the room, then?" Rocket was currently bothering Robotnik, and his doctor was explaining how to find power with a formula. There was a good chance Rocket had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but he still seemed very interested. Or maybe he just liked spending time with his 'dad'.

"...Because the doctor attempted to clone me and the age part of that failed." He wanted Gerald dead in his grave. Good god. "Is there anything you need?"

"Can I not ask questions to the man who lives here with my dear grandchild?"
No! He couldn't. What he could do is go in the corner and shut up.

Stone just shrugged. "I'm just a bit preoccupied right now."

"What do you get from working for him?" Gerald asked, putting a hand on the back of his chair. Gross. Stone didn't say anything.

"A paycheck, gratitude, and a nice kid? What more do you want me to say, he's paying me to be here!" Stone told him. What a lie. He'd be here if there was no pay at all, no work for him. He liked the doctor, he liked his machines, the coffee, his eccentric manner, his taste in things, ec cedera, but that sounded gay, and he wasn't in the mood to be called a faggot again.

"...I see." Was all Gerald said before snapping the back of Stone's chair, sending lurching him forward about an inch, and walking away.

--------------

"Doctor?" Both of them turned around, and Stone shot a glare at Gerald.
"𝘔𝘺 doctor? Can I have a word with you? In 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦?" Stone asked, and HIS Robotnik nodded, telling the old hag to wait for him. He joined the agent in the other room and slammed the door.

"What, Stone." Robotnik lamented, taking off his goggles, which left a red mark around his eyes. It was.... cute.

"Sir, I was just thinking-"
"I'm shocked."

Stone rolled his eyes. "Is there anything else I can refer to you as besides 'Doctor?' Every time I say it, the two of you turn around, and it's inefficient to keep specifying I'm talking to you, sir." Stupid-ass question, and it sounded worse the moment it left his mouth.

Robotnik groaned exasperatedly. "Inefficient..." he mumbled. "Every title IS the same. Just say Ivo. I don't care."

Ivo??? IVO???? He wanted Stone to call him by his first name???? He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it wasn't that. That was a level of openness Rob- Ivo would have personally killed him for a few months ago.

"Yes sir. Ivo." The name rolled off his tongue foreign but familiar, like a language he didn't realize was easy to learn.

"Is there anything else you need, Agent?" Ivo asked impatiently. Stone avoided his gaze, unsure how to phrase the question.

"Yes, sir, uhm, I'm under the impression your grandfather is... staying here, right?"

Ivo nodded.

"....Where is he sleeping, then?" Stone nervously wrung his hands together. Ivo stared at him like had asked the stupidest question ever. "The couch is pull-out, if he even decides to stop working, I will 'bunk' with you and the kid."

--------------

This had NOT been in Stone's job description when he first was assigned here. Hell, if he had a time machine and went back to inform past-him that he would be lying awake on an uncomfortably small twin size mattress, his boss/co-parent snoring loudly on his shoulder and a clone of him just as dead asleep on his stomach, he would probably deck himself right in the face.

At least he might have passed out and got some shut-eye. Ivo snored at a 3/4 tempo, and his mustache pricked Stone's collarbone. Rocket didn’t snore, but he turned like a damn rotisserie chicken. He almost fell on the floor at least 3 times in the past 4 hours.

And, somehow, Stone couldn't think of somewhere he'd rather be.

Chapter Text

Rocket couldn’t sleep. Well, he could, it was just a matter of if he wanted to or not. And he really didn’t want to. Whatever the ‘grand-father’ (“Word of the day,” Stone had said under his breath. Rocket had yet to figure out what that meant) was doing fascinated him, and he was going to go crazy if he didn’t find out

Slowly, he got up from the steady rise-and-fall of Stone’s chest, making sure he didn’t wake up. Then, he swung himself off of the side of the bed and exited the room.

The ‘grand-father’ - Gerald, he remembered - was still hunched over at the desk, very reminiscent of his dad. Right then, he seemed to be attempting to pull up something on the monitor. Rocket recognized the GUN logo on the corner of the screen, but the words slipped past him.

“What’re you doing?” He appeared behind Gerald, who jumped and turned around, before sighing.

“Nothing,” Gerald said, clicking furiously on the keyboard.

Rocket looked up at the screen currently displaying a loading bar, red and creeping forward slowly. “Doesn’t seem like nothing, what’re you doing?”

Gerald took his head in his hands and groaned loudly. “If I tell you, will you LEAVE me ALONE??”
Rocket nodded, still eyeing the loading bar.

The screen finished whatever it was running, and what appeared was a machine-like blueprint that vaguely reminded Rocket of a jellyfish. “When I’m done retrieving my glorious machine, I’ll be able to exact my revenge - right where I want it.” He jabbed a spot on the desk like it was a place on a map.

“Cool! Where’s that?” Maybe they could ‘exact revenge’ at school.

Gerald spread out his hands, turning back to face Rocket. “All of Earth, clone child. When I’m done, there’ll be nothing left. A perfect world.” He leaned forward. “But you won’t tell anyone I said that, right?”

Rocket giggled and shook his head.

“Good. Now leave me alone.”

-------------------------

Stone was suffocating. The doctor was splayed halfway on top of him, his head buried into his shoulder and his arms tightly bound against him, like some kind of oversized teddy bear.

"Ivo." Stone tried to get up, his arm free for the first time in the night since Rocket had started walking around. He would go after the kid, but Rocket probably needed to be alone sometimes - it was just that Stone didn't like the idea of him outside with Gerald.

Stone, meanwhile, tried to shift out of Ivo's death grip.

"Ivo. Get off of me. I can't breathe." No response. If anything, the doctor wrapped his arms around Stone tighter when he moved.

He huffed - he had slept fine when it was just him and the kid - which caused the doctor to stir slightly. Stone looked over at him. His face seemed perpetually annoyed, still scrunched up even as he rubbed his eyes and whacked Stone on the chest, causing him to cough a bit.

"Stop making noise, Agent," Ivo ordered, taking his arm off the other man's chest and turning his back to him.

Just because Stone was ticked off, he jabbed Ivo's back.

The doctor turned to face him, his eyes half open. A nauseous, uneasy feeling swam in the pit of Stone's stomach like the sight was something private he wasn't supposed to be seeing.

"I'm going to kick you out of this house," Ivo said. rolling his eyes and shifting an adequate distance away from Stone (only about two inches) like he wouldn't roll over again.

Stone tilted his head over to the doctor, biting his cheek."You wouldn't."

No response came from Ivo. Either he was lying, or he didn't feel like answering the agent because his eyes had already closed again and his breathing had mellowed out.

-------------

The pattern of small midnight or early morning conversations continued for the next few nights. Rocket would get up from his chest to walk around for an unknown reason (Maybe he was restless. He should take him to the park.) which woke Stone up. Then, when Stone couldn't fall back asleep, he'd start tossing and turning, which woke up Ivo, who would snap at him. The conversations usually went something like this:

"Stop moving."

"I can't sleep."

"Oh, boo-hoo, do you want a glass of warm milk?"

"If you’d get off of me, I’d go and get one."

"Go back to your house while you’re up."

"You'd miss me."

"..."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

At some point, Stone had stopped complaining when he woke up to his doctor's head resting on his shoulder, his arm slung around his chest like a stuffed animal, and Ivo wouldn't pull away when he realized he was curled up against the agent. Usually, he just told Stone to stop moving around, threaten him, and go back to sleep. Stone would turn around, gently throw his arm around Ivo, and doze off with a peace he hadn’t known in forever.

Whenever Stone woke up in the morning, his doctor would be gone.

----------------

“Papa.”

Stone blearily stirred and instantly realised that Ivo was gone. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was nonetheless disappointing.

“Your dad isn’t here.” The agent rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock (6:55AM) before looking down at Rocket. He was already dressed to go to school, hair slicked down and all - and they didn’t have to leave until 7:45. Must have been Ivo to get him ready, which was oddly... nice.

The kid stared blankly at him. “I’m talking to you.”

Oh. Well, someone had a revelation during their nighttime walks. Stone didn’t protest. The kid wanted to call him his papa? Fine by him.

“...Oh. Well, what is it?” It wasn’t like Stone would be going back to sleep now, anyway.

"Dad said to get up." Rocket picked at a lock of his hair that wasn’t combed down all the way, and just stood there. It seemed like he would until Stone actually got himself up out of the bed.

Stone sighed. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up.” He motioned for the kid to leave the room, which he did, and trudged over to the bathroom.

After he showered, after he put on one of the suits he normally wore over the few ‘normal’ sets of clothing he had brought (still unworn. It didn’t feel right to wear them - he lived here, sure, but he was still just an agent.), and after he slicked his hair, he walked out into the lab and was making his way in the kitchen to make the standard 7:15AM latte.

Double the order, Stone thought. Gerald probably would want one, and they seemed to have similar tastes in everything else, so he made two the same way he always did. The espresso would stream down hesitantly from the machine, twice. The milk would froth and then frantically churn before foaming - twice.

Stone gazed at the bare, designless coffees. They seemed almost naked, but he couldn't think of any art that they BOTH would like. Now, if Gerald were gone, he would have happily drawn himself and the Doctor like old times.

He sighed, picking up the lattes and trudging over to the lab. The sight he was met with was Ivo peering up at the monitor, almost reverently, at a spinning icon of some jellyfish-looking machine, surrounded by some equations Stone couldn’t identify. Gerald was sitting there smugly (to the agent’s annoyance) as Ivo gushed about how great his plan was - whatever the plan was. And, to finish the scene off, Rocket stood clutching an Optimus Prime action figure, his vision darting between the two older men and the big machine on the screen.

Stone gripped the porcelain cups a bit tighter, and continued walking. “Good morning.” He said (more grumbled) and handed his doctor a latte, before offering Gerald the remaining coffee.
“I don’t drink that filth,” Gerald stated, and it took half of Stone’s willpower to not pour out the steaming liquid on his bald head. Instead, he took it for himself.

“...Okay. Ivo, did Rocket eat yet?” The kid nodded and jabbed him with the toy. Ivo opened his mouth - probably to say yes - only to get talked over by Rocket.

“Yeah. I had cereal with milk and - and it had the little marshmallow bits in it too.” He said, looking up at Stone.

--------------------------------

Stone assumed Ivo wanted him to drop off Rocket at school, since he had gotten him ready and fed him and everything. There wasn’t much chatter in the car as there normally was, and Stone didn’t feel the need to break the comfortable silence.

“When I get to school, I’m gonna take rev-nenge on the other kids at my table.” Rocket gazed out the window.

“It’s re-venge,” Stone corrected. “Did your dad teach you that word?” That... probably wasn’t the best thing for him to be saying, and the last thing he needed was a concerned call home from the teacher during the kid’s first week.

“No,” Rocket started, before getting distracted and pushing Optimus Prime halfway through the glass of the window. Then, he remembered he was talking. “That’s what the grand-father said. He said that he’d rule the world, and then he said he’d destroy it, and then he said there’d be nothing left, but I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, so...” He giggled.

Rocket GIGGLED. Gerald had said he’d kill everyone on Earth and he was GIGGLING. Well, to a kid, that idea probably sounded fun - especially the ruling-the-world part (and probably even more so considering Ivo was his father).

Stone hid the flabbergasted expression he was feeling on the inside and turned into the school. “That’s, uhm, interesting.”

He could hear Rocket shuffling in the back, collecting his bag. The agent considered going into the car rider line to properly drop the kid off, but one thing he realized after doing that was that Rocket refused to go into the school if not escorted. He had no problem leaving them, apparently, but it was most likely just anxiety. Funny enough, Stone never had that problem, but he had no parents to leave anyway, so... yeah.

Stone parked the car and went in the back to unbuckle the kid, who already had all his stuff in hand. Once he was on the pavement, he put on his bag and reached for Stone’s hand, who gave it to him. When they entered the school, Rocket seemed calm enough, until he passed one of the third-grade classrooms and stopped. “My friend is in this class,” He said.

Stone tugged his hand. “You can see him during recess or something, come on, Rocket.”

The kid looked up at him, all big brown eyes and a pout. “Hold on, let me see him really quick, pleaseee-”

“Okay, okay, fine, be quick.” He let go of the kid’s hand and stood outside the classroom, giving a smile to the teacher (whom he would pretend not to notice looked away and blushed). Stone looked inside for the kid and- oh.

One of the... animals - the cute one, what was his name- Tails, was talking to the kid, quite animatedly, too. Rocket was smiling, returning whatever conversation he was having, until he heard a stupid, familiar “Hello.” and turned around. The stupid hedgehog’s father. Good God. Could he catch a break?

“Where did you come from?” Stone asked. Third grade was a bit... old to escort a kid to school.

“I volunteered to help today, they, uh, have that for the older kids,” Tom said, crossing his arms. Stone kept his watch on Rocket.

“How come yours isn’t in high school? Last time I checked, he was smart enough.” Stone asked.

“We decided it would be the best for him to, you know, get together with kids his age. Tails doesn’t seem to mind it, though.”

Tom pointed at Rocket. "He's, uh, your kid? I never pegged you the fatherly type," Tom smiled, and Stone didn’t look over at him.

"No. Well, kind of. He's the Doctor's." He didn't want to explain the clone situation, but the other man was already looking pretty confused, and it's not like Tom had anything against him directly, and it wouldn't kill Rocket to have friends - even if they were anthropomorphic animals... ugh.

"Rocket's a... clone of me. Iv- uh, Robotnik tried to clone another assistant and the machine screwed up. I just help him." Stone shrugged, watching the kid and Tails talk. He checked his watch - 8:05.

“Rocket, time to go.” He ordered across the class. “Papa-” Rocket started, and Stone wasn’t in the mood to argue, so he added a firm “NOW.”

Tom gave another slight smile. "The kid calls you 'papa.' That's sweet."

"I don't know why. To be honest, I don't think me and the doctor are very good... role models." At this, Tom looked over at him, patting Stone on the shoulder, who pulled himself away from the camaraderie.

Tom retracted his hands and put them in his pockets. "Even if Robotnik, to me, doesn't seem like the best person for a kid to be looking up to, Rocket came out of the machine with two people who cared about him already. I'd say he's lucky."

He was lucky. The kid was so lucky. How did it feel to be created and already be so loved just for existing? “I guess so.”

At that time, Rocket finally trudged over to him and gave the fox a wave before Stone practically dragged him to his class by the scruff of his neck.

“Okay, bye, have a good day!” He hurriedly said. Rocket gave him a “Bye!” before walking in.

--------------------------

When Stone returned to the lab, there was no trace of either Robotnik. Worried, he went to the desk and flipped through some of the papers they had written down, before finding a Post-It written in Ivo’s recognizable scrawl. “Gone Ruling the World,” it said, “Be Back for Agent and Kid Later.”

Stone felt the worriedness creep back into his brain like a fog. Sure, he knew his doctor would be all but signed up for ruling the world... it was the destroying part he was concerned about.

Chapter Text

       Gerald had made them trek 2.7 miles away from the lab to an overgrown, abandoned, and apparently once GUN military base. Ivo suggested they could have driven, but he didn't have his license (on him. Definitely... he surely was able to drive himself and didn't depend upon his agent to chauffer him around...) and Gerald legally didn't exist anymore, so walking it was.

      When the mech came rumbling out of the mountain, all he could do was stand there in awe. It was larger than life, it was more powerful than he could ever imagine. Gerald stepped inside, motioning for Ivo to follow. It felt like the floor quivered underneath him as the mech shot into the sky.

      “This is... really, very impressive. Out-of-this world. See what I did?” Ivo said as he ran his hands over the control panel’s smooth, shiny metal. “What is it powered by?”

     “Don’t trouble yourself over the small things, boy. With you here, I have a front-row seat to humanity’s downfall.” That didn’t inspire Ivo all too much. Ruling, sure, he could get behind - but if there was nothing to rule, then, well...

       He stood, watching the Earth from hundreds of miles away. This was the same view the Apollo astronauts had, he thought. They were in space for good - he was up here for evil. Not out-of-the ordinary for him, but then again, destruction wasn’t his objective.

     “Humanity’s downfall.” He murmured.

    “Humanity’s downfall??” Ivo jerked his head to his grandfather.

      "W-what - we can't ANNIHILATE the EARTH!!!" He sputtered, walking over to him. "By combining our superior intellect, we could rule humanity!" He linked his hands together like a prayer. "As a family!"

      He swallowed nervously before continuing. "And - and my agent is down there - if we rule the world, I need him!"

      Gerald rolled his eyes. "Agent, smagent - you won't need him when we take our revenge."

    Every word that came out of his mouth just somehow made this whole situation worse. "How the HELL does revenge benefit us if WE'RE DEAD TOO?!!"

    His grandfather got up in his face, putting his pointer finger on his sternum and jabbing him. 

        "You let them wear you down, Ivo. You're soft. Years ago, I heard about a Robotnik wanting to rule ALONE. Now he's got a boyfriend and a failed lab experiment hanging onto him. Like a sap."

         "I'm NOT a sap." Ivo pushed the man away from him. "When Rocket grows up, he can continue the legacy! I didn't co-sign on him for nothing!” Hurriedly, he added, “And Stone is NOT my boyfriend!” 

     Gerald rolled his eyes - hey, that was HIS annoyed expression! "Press the goddamn button." 

     Ivo glared at him. "You must be crazy if you think I'll take orders from you, old man.” A bit regretfully, he took Gerald by the collar and bashed his head against the windowpane. Not enough to kill him - that was already coming for both of them - but just enough to stun him.

     He eyed the timer, the one that he didn’t realize was counting down - and steered the mech away from the planet. Already, bits and parts of the machine were exploding. It felt like the very dramatic end to a James Bond movie if it was written by a telenovela director.

    62 miles above Earth - or 100 kilometers - Doctor Ivo Robotnik began his final livestream.

----------------

      The TV flicked on by itself in the lab. At first, Stone didn't bother to turn it off. For one, he was in the lab portion of the lab, not the living area. The next reason was that he liked the chatter that the announcer gave, even if he couldn't quite make out what she was saying.

     He could hear it turning on and off by itself in the other room, the newscaster's voice chopping in and out until it wasn't quite her voice anymore. No, it was more familiar.     

      "This is dedicated to one very special sy-co-parent - Agent Stone."

        Stone felt the breath get knocked out of his lungs. He tripped over his feet, running to the TV, bracing against the coffee table. He leaves Ivo to his own devices for - five hours? And he goes and pulls something like this.

       "I'll miss your lattes with-" Oh, he was getting choked up! "Steamed Austrian goat milk. Watch the kid for me."

      He paused for a second, staring silently at the camera, at the world. Stone looked into his eyes, but only the Badnik's camera reflected.

       "I loved the way you-" His doctor stopped again, staring mournfully at the camera, at Stone. "Whatever."

       "I loved you."

      Stone gazed unblinkingly at the TV screens. He loved him. He loved him. He loved him he loved him he loved him. 

      And now he'd never get to tell his doctor that he did too. 

      Ivo started talking again, all the emotion left from his voice, only his usual sarcasm remaining. "I guess there's only one more thing to say, then." He wiped his eyes dramatically with his gloves.

      "That planet was a drag. Thanks for nothing!"

       Then there was nothing left. Not of him, not of the ship. Nothing.