Archive of Our Own ^beta

The day, insofar, had been just like any other. Stone awakens at the crack of dawn, exercises and readies the Doctor’s hefty breakfast for the day before them. 

It’s become ritualistic, the days spent with Eggman, of course Stone himself maps out the Doctor’s day, his life, his very movements for maximum efficiency. He begins, naturally, with breakfast along with his usual coffee order, the most important meal of the day — and usually something high calorie to add some more meat to the Doctor’s bones, Ivo’s gut has been growing nicely indeed Stone notes — after is recon, it’s important to know your opponents moves before heading straight into battle, and the plans move forward. The Doctor plans out the attack on his nemesis whilst Stone brews them more coffee and commits to time keeping, and after the plan is completed the final adjustments are made — such as fixing any broken Badniks and brewing yet another coffee into a flask for the road. Then, finally, the attack is launched.

Currently, they’re in the recon phase of the day, Eggman is currently in the HQ room keeping tabs on Sonic and his pesky friends while Stone carefully creates loving latte art with his own two hands — the usual deep brown drawings of the Doctor’s and his own face surrounded by small hearts — and Stone, as soon as his wristwatch alerts him of the Doctor’s mid morning coffee break before his battle plan preparations, brings the two lattes into the HQ room where he finds Eggman seated at his desk, engrossed in the holographic screen before him.

Except, the Doctor’s not surveying Team Sonic, instead he seems to be reading some sort of file or Documentation, the Agent thinks he sees his own name written a few times.

“Doctor,” Stone greets as he approaches Eggman’s desk — he’s seemed to have developed a habit of scaring the living daylights out of the Doctor if he doesn’t make his presence known first being naturally light footed due to his extensive training, and the Doctor has threatened to tie a bell around his neck if he carries on, not that Stone would mind of course, he’s even tempted to do it purposely to gain that little bell; another statement that he belongs to Eggman. “Your latte.”

The Doctor grumbles beneath his breath as he takes the cup offered to him, he sips heavily from his brew and warps the art without even looking at it first, the Agent frowns from behind his red tinted glasses. It’s unusual for Eggman to brush him off like this nowadays, he’d thought they’d gotten over that particular hump, but it seems with the less than enthusiastic greeting and cold regard for the oh so lovingly curated latte art he had been wrong, or perhaps something is wrong with the Doctor himself. Certainly that would make more sense than a sudden backpedal in the progress of their relationship.

“Is everything alright, Doctor?” Stone asks, a visible line of worry creasing between his brows.

The Doctor tilts his head toward him, his mouth is formed in a frown like when a clock strikes twenty five past seven — a time which has currently only an hour and five passed — and his overall expression shows some semblance of annoyance mixed in with a faint anger. Stone gulps, mind racing through the progress of the day to figure out what has happened to have caused such an expression. 

“I’ve been looking into your old government files.” Eggman says eventually, and Stone’s frown deepens — what could possibly be in his file to upset the Doctor in such a way?

“I see.” Stone replies, his eyes flicker to the holographic screen, injuries, the Doctor’s looking into his past injuries in the field. “Any particular reason, sir?”

“Since you told me about your injuries and the people who put them there, I’ve been compiling a list of new enemies.” Eggman explains, the Agent’s lips curve into a slight smile, of course back in the labyrinth when Stone had confessed he’d been shot, stabbed and even tortured back when he’d been a proper government Agent. That certainly explains the Doctor’s current displeasure. “I’ve read your entire file, including this.”

He uses the scroll wheel to navigate the pages, years worth of government work neatly laid out for consumption in one particularly large file (Stone supposes there must be better reading material out there than his own file of his old life) and finds the very first. Basic information regarding the Agent. It illuminates his face and reflects his own name and government photo in the red of his glasses.

“Stone, Aban.” The Doctor begins, reading from the first page what Stone can already see for himself. “Race: Arabic. Nationality: Canadian. I.Q.: three hundred and one?!”

“Oh, well.” Stone ducks his head minutely, a faint flush creeping to his cheekbones. “I don’t like to boast, sir.”

“As you shouldn’t!” Eggman barks, the Agent’s smile drops as it becomes evidently clear that the Doctor’s not upset over his past injuries at all. “I’m the genius here, how is it that your I.Q. is one point higher than my own!”

The Agent’s lips flap slightly, forming words that make no sound, he must be careful with his tongue lest he incur the Doctor’s wrath — the heat of his rage has licked him like flames before but he’s always come out on the other side miraculously unscathed. “You are a genius, sir.” Stone cautiously insists. “A single point makes no odds to me, you still are and will always be magnificent and it’s a privilege to work for you.”

Eggman merely grumbles in return, petulance rather than indignation and folds his arms across his chest with a slight huff that reminds the Agent of rebellious teenagers sitting there in a brooding angst while their guardians yell at them for being late on curfew again (that sort of thing happened a lot back in the orphanage of his childhood, nuns never were a fitting substitute for the love of a parent).

Stifling the sudden bout of laughter brought on by the imagery of a teenaged Ivo, Lord knows he must’ve been filled with angst back then, Stone pushes the Doctor’s chair out from his console and presses himself between the minuscule space he’s created. He stands before Eggman, smiling dreamily at his maestro, and runs a single digit down the brass buttons of the Doctor’s military style jacket teasingly.

“Ivo, you have an incredibly large… intellect.” He purrs and reaches the final button near the hemline, he segways then and reaches for the Doctor’s still crossed arms, unlinks them and places them neatly onto his own waist. A shiver wracks him, Eggman’s always had the capability of making him feel so small. “Larger than any I’ve ever worked with before.”

Stone closes in on him, a knee balanced on the rolling chair between open thighs and steadying hands on broad shoulders, his face hovers no more than two inches from the Doctor’s own with bated breath. He cannot gleam the look of Eggman’s eyes behind those dark spectacles, he wonders what colour they are, if they reflect the same anxious excitement behind Stone’s own though by the trembling curve of Eggman’s upper lip the Agent knows he must be feeling it. 

Good Lord. It’s finally going to happen. The tension, unspoken and buried deep where the light of day shall not touch it, will finally end with this one glorious kiss and together they shall be, forever, the ultimate villainous power couple. “I’m gonna help you rule the world.” Stone murmurs between the shrinking millimetres of their lips.

“What? Like I need help ruling the world?!” As simple as that, the minuscule distance becomes a gaping chasm as the Doctor pushes him away — not just physically, Stone can see the walls Ivo has built around himself, carefully demolished by the Agent’s own two hands being rebuilt before his very eyes as he regains his balance against the console and Stone can no longer see him, only the façade Eggman has created for himself like a mask which hides all of his insecurities and pain behind a hardened, angry exterior away from the prying eyes of a world that has turned its back on him long ago.

“Ivo, that’s not what I meant.” Stone tries, wishing now he’d never spoke, never confessed to all he had in that damned labyrinth but regret for what has already happened is fruitless, as fruitless as attempting to convince the Doctor a single point matters not, he can wish for parents, a better chance at life, meeting Ivo sooner all he likes but regret for the past has always been useless to him.

The petulant form returns, arms folded again as Eggman huffs indignantly. “No, no, since you’re that much smarter than me I must need help ruling the world.” 

“I don’t think you need help, sir.” The Agent says in vain hope that the validity of this testimony will be believed, it’s true while Eggman hasn’t held victory in defeating Team Sonic (though whether the cat and mouse game they play is continued through a mutual liking of the chase or a genuine disability to defeat that blue menace is yet to be revealed) he is capable of ruling this world.

‘Think of it, Stone!’ The Doctor had told him one night, an arm around Stone’s waist while they reconfigure battle plans late into the midsummer evening. “A world run by machines! A mechanical utopia where I would rule.’

‘It sounds wonderful, sir.’ Stone had sighed dreamily, thinking of the world at their hands.

‘I would fix all the world’s problems, not even Mother Nature herself would have to worry about the hole in the o-zone layer or climate change. I would fix it all by replacing her with a world of my own design and she could die a peaceful death, la petite mort… yes, I know French.’ Eggman grinned, a certain gleam he gains in his complexion when he talks of world domination, it enraptures Stone unable to look away like the sun drawing your gaze and burning into your retinas. ‘In my world the machines will take over.’

‘And what of the people, the humans, the mobians?’ Stone had asked, an evil grimace upturning his lips. ‘Will you destroy them all?’

The Doctor laughed. ‘You get ahead of yourself, Stone, after all a ruler needs its unwilling subjects. Who would bow to me if I destroy them all?’

‘I would, sir,’ Stone offers, like a martyr offering themselves as the sacrificial lamb. ‘I would bow, willingly.’

Now, as he looks Eggman in the eyes, unable to register the emotion behind those dark glasses but able to see his own heavy one reflected from them he says, “I want to help you because I know you would do it perfectly.”

The Doctor harrumphs, a largely overdramatised thing as Eggman is often want to do. “But only with your help I suppose.” He accuses, points the finger and all. “Or perhaps it’s because you want something out of me, a manipulation tactic from your superior intellect to follow me like an obedient little dog until you can take over from me. I know what you are, Stone.” 

Stone’s heart sinks, he’s heard that line before — I know what you are the kids in the playground would say before calling him a queer boy — but those insults never stung Stone knows his inclination to men, has known it for so long, what stings is that after all this time the Doctor still thinks of him as that sycophant, the barnacle on his hull, only want for something greater from the Doctor than just his love and attention.

“No!” Eggman suddenly shouts, the noise makes Stone jump as stuck in his forlorn train of thought he had not been expecting the outburst. “We’re taking an I.Q. test right now.”

That would put them behind schedule, less time to go through the battle plans, less time to prepare, they’ll be late for their attack on Team Sonic. “Sir, that’s ridiculous, we’ll be behind schedule." The reply borders on insubordination, Stone knows this, but the further they can get from this argument the better.

“Oh, because I’m that stupid, the tasks I set are menial for you?” Eggman responds gruffly, already pulling up a search for the test he’s about to become an unwilling participant in. “We’re taking an I.Q. test right now, that’s an order!”

Stone sighs mutely. “Yes sir.”

A whole hour, the tests take; thirty minutes each. Stone’s leg bounces as the results come in through email and the Doctor opens them both on split screen, they should be at the planning stage now, instead the Doctor sits there raging as the results read:

Like a sore thumb, Stone can only focus on the Doctors upset, it’s impossible not to when the heat of Eggman’s anger bursts flames into the room and his shouts boom through the near empty space like broadcast over loud speakers and, much like the throbbing of a that sore thumb, is futile to ignore.

“How is this possible!” The Doctor bellows, the red of his face tells Stone that it must be hot to the touch if he were to reach out and brush his fingers against his ruddy cheek.

“Doctor, I promise you, it doesn’t matter.” Stone begs, still he cannot simmer down the roaring flames, try as he might. “You’re still so incredibly clever, we’re just good at different things and that’s what makes us such a good team.”

“Don’t patronise me, Stone.” Though mellowed only slightly by the compliment it doesn’t stroke his ego enough to bring his rage down to that gentle boil — there’s always some form of anger beneath the lid of that pot threatening to overspill, it’s impossible to kill the heat entirely. “You think you’re that much clever than I, you try taking over the world.”

“That’s preposterous, sir.” He says, shaking his head, he couldn’t fathom doing it; taking over the world for himself. “You’re meant to rule the world, I only want to aid you in doing so.”

Eggman doesn’t answer, the Agent sighs to himself and spies the barely consumed coffee sitting upon the console. A waste. They’re cold to the touch when Stone picks them up, having been forgotten in the heat of their argument, the faces in the foam warped and sullen much like the faces they belong to. 

“I’m not entertaining this any further, Doctor.” He murmurs into the Doctor’s forgotten cup, if he’s not careful a tear might fall into it he hangs his head lower and it falls onto the inside of his lenses instead, unnoticed by everyone but the Agent. “If we want to make good time we need to plan our attack now, would you like another coffee?”

“Suppose.” Eggman mutters, arms across his chest again, he makes no move to rise from his chair.

“I’ll meet you in the lab soon.” Stone speaks softly, and leaves the Doctor alone in the HQ room.

In the lab Eggman works quietly at his desk, it's eerie and the atmosphere so tense you could hear a pin drop though it daren’t do such a thing to anger the Doctor again. When Stone enters with a latte in hand through the lab’s main doors he’s hesitant to approach, another fight at the forefront of his mind.

A buffer between them and another argument would be heaven sent to say the least but Orbot and Cubot seem to have found themselves in far away sections of the lair, having sensed the tension after their initial encounter. The Agent clears his throat, another indicator to Eggman he’s arrived seeing as its best not to be sneaking up on him today of all days. “Your latte, sir.” Stone announces, placing the cup carefully onto the work bench where the Doctor reassembles a Motobug with faint scratches along its red painted body, war wounds of its previous battle.

“Mhmm.” The Doctor hums, like another blow to an already downed opponent the sound only serves as a reminder to Stone that this isn’t over not by a long shot, and continues on with his repairs.

A muted sigh leaves the Agent’s mouth, no reprieve for the impending, and stands dutifully by his Doctor’s side with arms held behind his back in soldiers’ at ease pose. The idea of begging comes to mind again, begging for the Doctor to see reason perhaps (bad idea), or begging the universe for solution (impractical). A quick fix to quandary is often impossible — he’s tried before, when the distaste for humanity began to sour his palate rather than sweeten and in the throes of moral quandary tried to wash the taste down with efforts to serve, not even his home turf in the end the American government had picked him up some point down the line.

“So,” Stone begins, in great effort to pick his wording from a line up, only the most disarming ones will do. “What’s the plan for today?”

The Doctor places the Motobug onto the tiled flooring and it skitters off to far reaches of the island fortress as if the Badnik, too, can sense the incoming collision. “Why? So you can think up a better one?” He snarks, not standing from his bench.

We’re really behind schedule. Stone cannot help but think. Please Doctor get off the defensive and just tell me the plan so we can move ahead.

“Doctor, I could never think of you as lesser than me, there’s no need to be so defensive.” Stone says, taking a knee beside Eggman, a submissive pose for certain but allowing the Doctor the height to tower above his henchman might just help him feel superior. The Agent even takes off his glasses for good measure for Eggman to see the whites of his eyes. “Miestro, you’re magnificent to me, I thought so then and I still think so now. It’s an honour to me that I get to bask in your presence, I am yours forever or until you have no use for me.”

Still, the Doctor regains that childish pose of crossed arms and says, “So you think I’m being defensive?”

“Oh my god!” Stone grits through teeth so clenched he fears they might shatter like the porcelain crockery of their companionship placed too close to the edge that threatens to teeter over and smash onto the tiles below. He’s so sick of cleaning up that mess. “That’s all you picked up from that? Doctor I am giving myself up to you because I…” love falls short from his lips as he stands in swift manoeuvre and backs away, anger seemingly attempting to swallow him whole. “And all you can think of is a single I.Q. point!”

“Correction.” Eggman states, finger raised as he spins his lab chair toward Stone, relaxed backward as if he cares not — who’s he trying to fool? Stone asks himself. “One single I.Q. point higher than mine.”

The Agent’s smart watch pings they’re late on the attack, Stone’s ready to call this day a catastrophe and go to bed. We’ll start anew in the morning Stone supposes. Still, “What does one point even matter, sir, you have five PHD’s to prove your genius, created machines beyond comprehension where most simple scientists have only just gotten AI technology to perform simple tasks but yours… they run independently of themselves.” He says, plucking the red tinted glasses he’d left on the work bench to place over equally reddened eyes. “I’m just a soldier sir, I have weapons training and mechanical engineering that is nothing compared to all which you have achieved.”

“And yet, without a single doctorate you’re able to fix up my Badniks and follow my blueprints to create new ones.” The Doctor says accusingly. “I bet you think you could destroy Team Sonic more efficiently than me.”

He could, but not for a damned I.Q. point above Eggman’s but his training would allow him to be the perfect vessel for Ivo to utilise to destroy those rodents. He could kill them all right now if asked, he’s already conjured plans to go full John Wick if the Doctor ever dies. “It is not my goal to destroy Sonic, that is yours as he’s a meddlesome rodent that gets in the way of you and greater plans, in the chess game of our lives I am the knight to your king — I might even be a pawn if you so wish — you may sacrifice me if you so need in order to checkmate.” He says and knows he means every word, he would die an honourable death for Ivo and hope to see him again on the other side if that is what is needed. “It’s true, I have devised plans to defeat them for you so they’ll be out of your way for good, I am a soldier I have killed and tortured and maimed many, of course I could do it but I would only for you so that you could rule the world, not for me.”

“Then do it.” Eggman seethes and stands so he’s once again towered above the henchman. “Destroy Team Sonic so you can prove to everyone how much smarter and better you are than me.”

The reminder alarm on Stone’s watch tells them they’re late once again but it rings like alarm bells in his mind — don’t do it, don’t do it… I have to — there’s never been such contempt for the Doctor in his mind, he damn near professed his love to him but still Eggman refuses to see past that single point difference. He's never going to get it. “You know what? I could destroy them and rule the world!” Don’t do it! “But I don’t want to, Doctor, I’ve only ever wanted you to remember that.”

“So do it!” Eggman yells.

“Fine! I will.”

“Fine.”

The latte goes cold on Eggman’s work bench.

‘And don’t even think about using any of my creations to win, Stone.’ Eggman threatens as the Agent grabs his gauntlets and places them onto his hands. ‘You think you can do what I do better than me then you will have no use of what is mine.’

That is all Stone can remember of their preparation for the late battle — no use of what is mine Stone must not truly be Ivo’s then — as if entranced by those words he hardly registers Eggman’s constant bickering, or even the battle itself, until like a smash cut from a mid 2010’s animated show he stands with his gauntlet raised having tacked the final member of Team Sonic with an electro tag, Sonic receiving first hit as per their agreement, outside of the hedgehog’s beachfront villa.

Eggman gawps, rooted to the floor in shock in the face of Stone's flawless victory. Still, the Agent activates not a single tag and the five mobians wait for the current of electricity with bated breath. Finally the Doctor yells, “Well, what are you waiting for? Claim your victory, Stone! And prove to everyone you think you’re smarter than me.”

Teeth clenched, the Agent’s raised arm shakes to press the button sequence on his control pad. Team Sonic brace themselves for the impending shock when the tags suddenly release and fall unceremoniously to the golden sand below. Though as anticlimactic as it is they continue to hold their stance as Stone turns back to face Eggman. “There is no victory if it is not your victory, sir.” Stone says, a shattered sigh escapes like the broken fragments of his heart regurgitating from his mouth. “I only wished to aid you in your grand scheme by your side as yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Ivo… you’re never going to let this go, are you? This will dangle over our heads and we will never…” Never what? Fall in love, get over this spat? Much like a spider upon its prey this will torment them and eat them whole. “I have to go.” 

With no particular direction in mind, Stone wanders as though on autopilot in the direction of the village centre. “Stone! Where are you going?!” Eggman yells angrily to the retreating form of his henchman, it’s only when he’s lost sight of him entirely that the rage fades and he realises what he’s done. “Aban?” 

“Woah,” Sonic from across the battlefield of sand whispers beneath his breath, relinquished now from the stupor of having witnessed their argument (and possible break up). “That was heavy.”

Amy nudges the blue hedgehog suddenly with her elbow, the action causing Sonic to wince from the bony point being dug into the sensitive area of his ribs, she gestures to Eggman who seems to have slumped like a ragdoll forlornly onto the sand. “We have to help fix this.” She insists in a stage whisper to Sonic.

“Uhh, why?” Sonic scrunches his nose at the mere thought, helping Eggman — his greatest enemy — win back his boy toy? “He’s our nemesis, remember? Trying to take over the world and whatnot, why should we help him get his boyfriend back when it’s clearly his fault this has happened in the first place?”

Amy produces a handkerchief, seemingly from thin air, and wipes her eyes with it as though the parting of her favourite ship has greatly affected her having hoped it would set sail in a glorious maiden voyage rather than sink before even leaving the bay. “Because it would be too sad to watch a romance dwindle when it’s barely blossomed.” She whimpers, tears catching and soaking into cotton. “Plus, Eggman will be so much more annoying without Agent Stone around, like before they met when Eggman would find excuses to hang around, remember when he stayed at your place for a while?”

Sonic's eye twitches, like flashbacks to Eggman B.S. (Before Stone) play behind his eyeballs before he pulls himself out of it and shivers through the post traumatic shock of life before Stone came along. “Amy! You’re right, we have to fix this.”

If not for Eggman and Stone themselves, Sonic must fix this for his own piece of mind. Certainly Eggman hangs around a hell of a lot less now that he has Stone, there had been a loneliness to the Doctor’s life before the Agent had entered the scene like the unsung hero of act two relieving them all from the burden of Eggman’s lonesome loitering that none of them ever want him to return back to, even if it is for their own personal reasons rather than that of worry for their nemesis.

“Tails and I will find Stone.” Sonic suggests, willing to bear the burden of approaching the Agent in this state and convincing him to return to Eggman. “You and Sticks get Eggman home, try and get the sitch from him too, we might have better luck fixing this if we know the full story.”

“What about Knux?” Amy questions, jabbing her thumb in the direction of Knuckles, where he is currently plucking Stone’s electro tag from the sand and inspecting the small object… with his tongue.

The resulting contact causes a small shock from the residual electricity running through it, the echidna recoils and slaps a hand over his numbed mouth. “Ouchie.” He mumbles through fingers. “My tongue.”

“I think it’s best if Knuckles stays out of this one, he’s not really on best terms with Stone anyway.” Sonic replies, to which Amy can only nod in agreement. “Tell him he's gonna hold the fort and we’ll meet back at Eggman’s place hopefully with Stone.”

“Okay,” Amy says, and waves Sonic off with the handkerchief still clutched in her hand like the love interest of her own personal romance novel bidding farewell to the main protagonist as he sets off on his epic journey to save the day. “Good luck, my love.” She murmurs only to herself.

“How in the hell are we supposed to get this oaf back to his lair?” Sticks comments, gesturing to the lone human slumped in the middle of the sand, drawing shapes in the dampened texture, damp from the sea salted like tears that threaten to spill any moment, with his pointer finger the grains stick to his glove he doesn’t bother to wipe them off. “I mean just look at him.” The Doctor falls backwards into the sand with a withering groan, Sticks winces. “It’s kinda sad actually.” 

“I don’t know.” Amy sighs, tilting her head to gaze forlornly in the direction which Sonic had headed. “I only hope Sonic has more luck than we do.”

Meanwhile, Sonic and Tails follow the trail in which Stone had taken not too long before, the direction being that in the way of the village centre. “I wonder where he’ll be.” Tails says, the jungle roots gnarled in foreboding warning beneath their feet, they seem to beg the pair not to chase the unpredictable Agent.

“Well, either we’re gonna be walking into bloodbath and beyond in the village centre.” Sonic states, which causes Tails to send a worried look his way. “Or he’ll be where he was first found, I’m hoping for the latter.”

“Hey, Sonic?” Tails asks after a moment’s hesitation, slowing his pace as they reach the village centre, no bloodbath a relief. “Should we even be helping Eggman and Mr. Stone get back together?” He ponders, because sure while it’s convenient for them that Stone has taken up the mantle of primary Eggman babysitter, there’s a certain moral aspect to standing idly by while the relationship continues on. “I don’t know, you’ve seen them, don’t you think that what they have is like really toxic yaoi.”

Sonic stays quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder this too. “First of all, who taught you that term?” He says, Tails shrugs, so the hedgehog glosses past it. “I mean yeah, maybe in the real world it’d be toxic.” He mutters beneath his breath. “But Eggman’s, well, Eggman you know? He’s not exactly a well rounded person unless you’re counting his shape!” 

While Tails mulls this over, Sonic laughs at his own joke. “I guess.” Tails concedes. “But don’t you think we should maybe save Stone? I mean their relationship did kinda begin with a kidnapping after all.”

“I think… under normal circumstances I would be on board with that idea, Tails.” Sonic replies, and it’s true, they’ve saved many a denizen whether that be imminent danger, kidnapping or even the odd threat of total world annihilation all at the hands of Eggman’s terrorisation of the Island’s inhabitants. “But I don’t think Stone wants to be saved, he’s exactly where he wants to be.” 

They approach the doors of the old Mean Bean café, the glass dirty and smudged a far cry from pristine and polished as it had been back when Stone had run the coffee shop. They feel like the gates of Midian, the hinges squeal as they open the double doors.

“Welcome to the Mean Bean.” A voice calls out to them.

Meanwhile, the opposite side of the island, Sticks and Amy manage to wrangle Eggman back to his lair — the Doctor had run almost as if on autopilot as he flew back to his fortress, it had taken a while for the two to even pull Eggman up from his slumped position in the dampened sand — they lead and push until they reach the living room where they deposit Eggman onto his couch, Orbot and Cubot having already been in the living room as they entered give one another worrying looks as the Doctor tilts his head to the indented unoccupied sofa cushion and runs his fingers gently across it, muttering something about, ‘Stone and I would sit here watching telenovelas.’

As he mutters to himself Amy grabs a hold of Stick’s upper arm and motions her to follow out into the corridor, once in privacy Amy sighs. “I’ve never seen him like this, we need to figure out what started it all and find a way to help them.” She mulls the plan of action over in her head, the results could be explosive, a ticking time bomb set to detonate at any moment. “We’re gonna have to handle this delicately.”

“That’s on you then, girl.” Sticks replies, gentle and delicate not exactly being her forte after all. “You practically ooze delicacy and if anyone can help Eggman, it’s you.” 

Amy smiles. “Thank you, Sticks.” She utters bashfully, however the vote of confidence grants her the strength to carry out this mission to find the truth and repair what had been fractured. “Let’s get back in there, Sticks, I have a feeling this will take a while.”

Heading back into the living room a surprise awaits them, Eggman seated in the exact position they’d left him in; however now he dons his pink footie pyjamas and a particularly large tub of chocolate fudge ice cream already beginning to melt and drip onto the soft cotton blend, a telenovela plays in the background of his depressive murmuring. 

“He’s got the ice cream out.” Sticks says monotonously as more runny melted ice cream drips from the spoon to the space between the already half finished tub and Eggman’s mouth. “This is just gross.”

“When did he even have time to change?” Amy asks, turning to face Orbot and Cubot to answer her. 

“Ahh, yes, he asked us to fetch them for him and he changed while you both were out there talking.” Orbot explains courteously. “I’m afraid he’s inconsolable.”

“And he’s really sad too!” Cubot adds helpfully.

Deciding to disregard that last comment, Orbot continues. “We’re really quite worried about him, and Stone too, do you know where he has gotten to?”

“We’re not too sure.” Amy responds honestly, though with Sonic and Tails on the case she feels confident enough to console them. “But Sonic and Tails will find him, I promise, everything’s gonna be okay.”

From beside them, Eggman suddenly lets out a disbelieving breath of air from his lips. “Nothing is okay, you single minded lifeforms always believe everything will be just hunky-dory through the power of friendship.” He mocks, voice pitching higher to imitate those he insults, the protagonists of the world always beat that dead horse but a realist such as himself knows. “He’s not coming back because I drove him away, it’s all my fault, how will I ever rule the world now? My life is over!”

“It’s been like twenty minutes.” Sticks says, unable to stop her eyes from rolling due to the Doctor’s overdramatisation of events.

“Just calm down a minute, Eggman.” Amy takes over, knowing that Sticks’ bluntness won’t get them the answers they need, she sits herself upon the coffee table in front of the Doctor and smiles patiently. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

“This all started because that insubordinate henchman of mine had an I.Q. point one higher than my own.” A tangential mix of emotions pass through the Doctor’s face, anger sadness madness, as though he can’t pin one down and allow it to take over instead they wash over him like waves of the sea. “My stupid! Smart! Beautiful Agent Stone. I’m absolutely furious that he’d have the gall to be more clever than I! And now he’s gone for good.”

“You guys are seriously fighting over an I.Q. score?” Amy tuts at the ridiculousness of their collision with a shake of her head. “Eggman, one point doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things! You’re both incredibly clever and instead of utilising the fact that your henchman is just as smart you get angry at him.”

“Stone said it didn’t matter either.” Eggman responds forlornly, as though in a daze, slumping back onto the couch and digging his spoon into the slop of ice cream again. “And just look at what happened, he’s right I couldn’t let it go… but I allowed him to.”

“You got defensive, said some things you probably shouldn’t have, but instead of wallowing here don’t you think you should go find him and apologise?” Amy recommends, though not in this state, perhaps a change of clothes first… and a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, how romantic — before she can get too ahead of herself however Amy reiterates, “Agent Stone cares so much for you, Eggman, one singular point isn’t ever going to change the way he feels about you.”

Eggman huffs a self deprecating laugh. “Oh, but it already has, Amy Rose, I’ll never see my Agent again and my entire life will fall apart.” He jests, a comment which causes Sticks to yet again roll her eyes at his dramatics.

“Ugh, this is pathetic even for him.” He mutters beneath her breath.

“What Sticks means to say is: don’t you think you’re over reacting a little?” Amy asks, pinching her thumb and forefinger close to touching to emphasise how little Eggman may be over reacting… perhaps more than a little but she really doesn’t want to chance angering the already sensitive Doctor. “Stone won’t leave you, you two are meant to be.”

“Besides,” Sticks adds. “Even if he did, your life wouldn’t fall apart, you got on just fine before you guys met.”

“Actually…” Orbot interrupts. “I believe it would, you see, since his employment began Agent Stone has increased efficiency at Eggman Industries tenfold.” A small beam of light appears from Orbot’s left eye and a projection materialises on the wall beside Eggman’s head, statistics indicating the workflow and efficiency of Eggman Industries since the Agent has been taken on, it only increases. “Stone himself compiles a day by day schedule for the Doctor, from the moment he wakes to the moment he sleeps his entire day is planned out, he controls almost everything Eggman does for optimum efficiency.”

“Wow…” Amy responds, stunned.

“Co-dependant much.” Sticks utters.

“I’m almost out of ice cream.” Eggman adds.

“Welcome to the Mean Bean.” Stone greets the two mobians from behind the counter of his old cafe, the dust piled up from lack of use dances in the light pouring in from the windows as Stone swipes it away with one gloved hand — he used to dance with Eggman like that, choreographed beautifully to the tones of the Sisters of Mercy, This Corrosion.

“Hey, Mr. Stone.” Tails replies, approaching the counter they notice the Agent’s pearly white smile fade. “Are you alright?” He asks in response to the glum composition of his features.

Stone merely sighs, he reaches up to take the red tinted glasses from his face, the eyes are red rimmed, the colour of Eggman; the way he’s affected him so. “I don’t know, Tails… he can just be so impossible sometimes, just when I thought we were making progress and I thought that he might just love me too it’s like he pulls the rug out from under me.” The frustration he’d been feeling this morning mounts once again, though it feels good to vent. “All of this over an I.Q. test and a single point difference! He can’t even speak to me without telling me how much smarter I must think I am compared to him.” Stone places his glasses back over his eyes as the tears begin to well again, though it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sonic and Tails as a single track of salted liquid slides down his cheek “I don’t ever want him to think that way, I want him to understand that to me he will always be magnificent… I just don’t know what to do now.”

“Well, you could always open the Mean Bean back up.” Sonic shrugs, grunting harshly when he receives an elbowing from Tails. “I mean if that’s what you want.” 

“No, I’m not leaving him, I could never! I just needed some time alone.” Stone shakes his head, he couldn’t imagine a world now where he’s not Eggman’s henchman, it’s not a world he even wants to live in anymore. “Besides café ownership… it’s not really for me, when I moved here it was after defecting from the American government, my intention was to lay low honestly and the only other thing I was good at was making coffee. Although I never expected to work for Eggman I could never go back to this mundane life now that I do.” He just doesn’t know how he’s going to fit into that world now that it’s fractured. “I just don’t know how to go back to the life we were living before, I should’ve just botched that I.Q. test, we wouldn’t be in this mess if I had.”

It’s then that an idea pops into Tails’ brain. “While we may not be able to botch the test itself we can always botch the results!” He grins, ready to unleash his cunning plan unto the others. 

Sonic raises a brow, intrigued. “Explain.” He says.

“Well, if I can get access to the company’s email I could always send Agent Stone an updated email explaining an error was made when calculating the test answers along with the updated results.” Tails informs them, a smug grin stretching across his face. 

Stone huffs a laugh, unsure that this plan will even work while desperate to try anything if it’ll make the Doctor happy. “I don’t even know if he’d believe that.”

“Sometimes, when we want to believe something is true the mind will ignore the glaring holes in the story to make it fit the reality we want.” Tails shrugs. “It’s gotta be worth a shot at least.”

“Exactly, Tails.” Sonic nods in agreement. “One of the biggest things that Eggman believes is that he’s the smartest man in the universe, I think he’d be inclined to believe you if the story we spin goes in his favour.”

Beneath his breath Stone mutters, “Fuck it.” And nods along with the hedgehog. “It might work, let’s do it.”

“Awesome! We’ll head over to my workshop.” Tails suggests. “I can get this email sorted in two shakes of a goats tail, and have it printed out in no time for you to show Eggman!”

Roughly an hour passes and back in Robotnik’s island fortress the Doctor himself bemoans the loss of his Agent and his imminently shattered life all while Amy and Sticks watch the pathetic display with morbid horror. “He always understood what I was saying when I spoke of the inner machinations of my Badniks.” Eggman cries.

Amy sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she turns to Sticks. “It’s been an hour and four tubs of ice cream! Where the hell is Sonic?”

Sticks shrugs and grimaces as she watches the melted ice cream cover the once white emblem of the Eggman Industries logo on the Doctor’s pyjamas become a saturated brown from the chocolate fudge flavoured treat. “Does he have, like, a fridge full of ice cream or what?” She questions in disgust.

“He only ever listened when I ranted about them but he always understood.” He sniffles, unaware of the other’s presence or even conversation concerning him. “And now he’s gone!”

“He wouldn’t be,” Amy, as calmly as she can, explains. “If you’d just apologise!”

Still, Eggman blocks any attempts Amy makes to bring him back down and assure him, like an intense one on one game of air hockey each of them block any chance the other has of winning out. “My life is over and it’s all my fault!” He dramatically exclaims.

About ready to tear her hair out, Amy rolls her eyes, and to curse out the Doctor’s melodramatic misery over a situation which could be remedied by a simple apology to the very man who was wronged when the hopeful sounds of the lair’s front entrance whooshes open and into the living room steps Stone, Sonic and Tails.

“Where in the hell have you been?” Amy hisses to Sonic as the Agent steps further into the room toward Eggman. “He’s been a nightmare!”

“Finding a solution to the love birds’ argument, I think it’s all about to be resolved, Ames.” Sonic smirks.

“Thank god!” Amy whispers.

Meanwhile Stone approaches the forlorn Doctor, a worried crease between his brow, yet hesitant to encroach too close given Eggman’s track record on being argumentative as of late. “Doctor?” He speaks softly, the sheet of paper printed from Tails’s workshop in his grasp remains by his side for now as he gazes at the man slumped on the sofa before him.

Finally, the Doctor seems to snap out of his spiral at the sound of his henchman’s voice. “Stone,” He replies, standing from the settee quickly, the tub of ice cream he’d already made a heavy dent into falls to the white floor the melted aftermath leaks out like the vulnerability leaks from Eggman’s voice alone. “Aban.” He amends, and takes his glasses from his eyes just as Stone had done earlier this morning for the Agent to see the sincerity in them. “I thought you’d left me.”

A sharp intake of breath from the henchman, he’s never seen the sight before, the Doctor’s eyes pitch black and bright red irises so very unnatural yet so very beautiful. Stone reaches out to swipe his thumb beneath Eggman’s left eye, it twitches at the contact. “Doctor,” He says imploringly, so inhuman those eyes are… perhaps robotic. “I could never leave you, sir.” 

Eggman takes a step closer to Stone, toe to toe and Eggman’s chest in his face, and suddenly drops to his knees, grovelling, with his arms wrapped tight around the Agent’s waist. “Please! Don't ever leave me again, Stone!” He snivels desperately into the hem of Stone’s jacket. “My life will fall apart without you!”

Across the living room the others cringe and Sonic mutters, “I think we should get outta here.” In agreement they all shuffle posthaste out of the Doctor’s island fortress undetected by Eggman and his henchman.

“Oh Stone!” The Doctor sobs as the Agent soothes a gentle hand across his smooth scalp. “My life has fallen to shambles without you.”

“I’ve only been gone for an hour, sir.” Stone mentions, however, looking around at the empty tubs of ice cream on the floor; the mess of the living room and of the Doctor himself it’s abundantly clear how much Eggman truly needs him. “I promise I won’t be going anywhere, it’s clear you need me, Ivo, you need me to set your day out for you, control your every move and thought and I’m only happy to do that for you, Doctor.”

“Yeah, that’s just what I need.” Eggman nods, wiping his runny nose against the sleeve of his pyjamas. “With your schedule I can run at maximum capacity and take over the world!”

Stone grins and nods in agreement, and as the Doctor gets to his feet he spies the paper in Stone’s hand and snatches it from his grip. “What’s this?” Eggman asks.

“It’s a printout, sir, I received an email explaining an error in the I.Q. test results.” Stone explains, though lying through his teeth, what’s a small white lie in the face of Eggman’s peace of mind? “These are the real results, I printed them off so I could show you, look.”

Eggman looks at the paper, indeed an error in calculation had occurred and the real results for Aban Stone’s test reads a score of… “two hundred and ninety nine? That’s your actual I.Q. score?” The Doctor asks to which Stone nods happily. “So all fighting was over nothing?!”

“Precisely, sir.” The Agent affirms.

“I should complain to those simpletons the grief in which they’ve caused us!” He bellows, positively fuming for the unnecessary heartache the botched test had caused for them. 

Stone only chuckles. “Already handled, sir.” He says, though in truth he’d done nothing of the sort. “Now, I’m thinking that a good meal and an early night is in order so we can be fully prepared to take on Team Sonic again tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course, Stone.” Eggman nods. “You know, I could sense that something was wrong the moment I saw those results, perhaps I should create my own test that’ll show those idiotic mouth breathers up!” 

“Excellent idea, sir.” Stone agrees with a smile. “I’ll be sure to fit it into your schedule.”

“Yes,” Eggman says, whilst Stone makes a mental note of the Doctor’s little project. “Now that that’s all sorted.”

“Indeed it is,” indeed it is and the Doctor never had to know.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him after all.