When the Night Holds You — MOTM
Summary: You care for Sonic as he hides his injuries and exhaustion after coming back from a dangerous mission.
You tend his wounds, offer comfort, and cling to him through quiet moments of vulnerability, all while fearing the worst — until a sudden, tragic moment leaves you holding him, unsure if he’ll survive.
Pairing: Myth Sonic x Reader
Genre: Romance (Queerplatonic/Emotional Intimacy), Comfort/Hurt, Angst and Emotional Drama
Trope: "I’m Fine (Lie)", Post-Battle Vulnerability, Caretaker x Hero, Home Is a Person, Quiet Confessions Through Actions
The city was quiet, washed in the soft aftermath of rain. Streets gleamed with reflections of dimmed lights, puddles trembling in the night air like the world itself hadn’t quite steadied yet. The chaos of the mission had ended, the people safe, the danger subdued — everyone celebrating a hero who walked beside you now like gravity had finally found him.
Not just tired. Not just sore. Slower in a way that didn’t belong to him.
His usual cocky grin was still there, but it looked carved on, stretched thin over something fragile underneath. It didn’t reach his eyes. It never did when he was hurting like this.
“You look… tired,” you said gently, like saying it too loud might make it worse.
“Pfft,” he laughed, leaning back as if the weight of the world was still nothing. “I’m fine. Really.”
The word fine landed between you like something already broken.
You watched his hands. The way his fingers kept flexing, like he was testing whether they still listened. The careful way he breathed — not deep, not full. The way he kept shifting his weight, like standing still hurt more than running ever did.
“You always say that,” you murmured. “And then you end up limping. Or worse.”
Sonic shot you a sideways glance, grin flickering. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta keep the hero image up. Can’t have the city thinking I’m…” His voice dipped, just barely. “…fragile.”
The word didn’t sound like a joke.
“Fragile isn’t the problem,” you said, stepping closer. Your hand hovered near his arm, afraid to touch and afraid not to. “You don’t have to pretend for me. Not here. Not now.”
Something in him gave, just a little.
His eyes softened, that fleeting, unguarded look only you ever got — the one that felt like being trusted with something breakable. “You… notice everything, huh?” he said quietly.
“I pay attention,” you said. “Especially to you.”
He exhaled slowly, like that cost him. His eyes closed for a heartbeat — too long — and when they opened again, there was something raw there. Not fear. Not exactly. Something closer to exhaustion at the bone.
“Okay… fine,” he said, trying for lightness and missing. “You win this round. But don’t start crying on me, alright? I’ve got a city to save, and that’s harder than it looks.”
“I’m not crying,” you whispered.
But your voice betrayed you.
“You’re too obvious,” he muttered, softer now. “But… I like it. Don’t stop noticing.”
Your hand brushed lightly over his chest.
Not the wild, energized thrum you were used to — this was uneven. Stuttering. Like it couldn’t find its rhythm again.
“I won’t,” you said, and it felt like a promise you didn’t know how to keep.
You knelt in front of him, not caring about the wet pavement soaking into your clothes. Your hands were steady even though your chest wasn’t.
Bruises spread under his fur like something blooming wrong. Dark. Deep. A long gash along his side had clotted, but the skin around it was angry, swollen. He’d been running on this. Fighting on this.
“You’re… taking this seriously,” Sonic said quietly.
“I always do,” you answered, pressing gauze to his side, trying not to think about how warm the blood still was. “Especially for you.”
He smiled faintly, but it didn’t hold. “I’d be fine on my own.”
The lie didn’t even sound convincing to him.
“No,” you said, firmer now, hands settling on his shoulders. “You don’t have to be. Not with me.”
His fingers brushed yours — hesitant at first, like he was asking permission to lean, then firmer when you didn’t pull away.
“I… I know,” he said, voice low, smaller than you’d ever heard it. “And I like it. You make it easier to keep going.”
That hurt more than it should have.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” you whispered. “I’m here. Always.”
His chest rose under your hands.
Rose again — but shallower.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, and the contact felt less like affection and more like someone trying not to fall.
“Yeah…” he murmured. “I’ll stay. For now.”
Like staying was temporary. Like everything was.
The world shrank down to your hands, his breathing, the quiet between words. Sonic, who was always motion, always speed, always momentum — was still.
You wiped dirt from his fur. Cleaned cuts. Rewrapped bandages when they soaked through faster than they should have. Every touch felt like trying to memorize him through your fingertips.
“I’m scared,” you said at last, because holding it in felt like drowning. Your hand pressed to his chest again, as if you could keep his heart in place. “Every time you go out there… I’m scared I’ll lose you.”
His grip tightened around your hands, but there wasn’t strength in it. Just need.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said automatically, but the edge was gone. It sounded tired. Fond. Sad.
“You mean it in the best way,” you replied.
He exhaled, and the sound shook. “I’ll try not to die before you notice,” he whispered.
You leaned into him, forehead to his chest, listening to that uneven rhythm like it was a countdown you couldn’t see.
“I can’t promise you’ll never get hurt,” you said. “But I’ll always be here for you.”
“I always aim for you,” he murmured, fingers brushing weakly against your cheek. “You… you’re my cure.”
Your breath hitched painfully. “And you’re mine,” you said. “Even if I’m scared.”
He smiled — small, tired, real. “Good. Because I’m not done yet… not until I get back to you every single time.”
You wished that sounded like a promise.
And hope had started to feel fragile.
When he stood, he leaned on you more than he meant to.
“Thanks… for being my anchor,” he said softly.
“You’re mine, too,” you answered, wrapping your arms around him before he could pretend he didn’t need it.
His hand came up to your cheek, thumb brushing there like he was trying to remember the shape of you. “Then… can I?”
His arms wrapped around you — careful, but tight. Desperate. Like he was holding onto the last solid thing in a world that wouldn’t stop taking.
“I should go,” he whispered. “But… I don’t want to leave you yet.”
“I don’t want you to go either,” you said, and your voice broke this time.
He pulled back just enough to look at you. His smile was faint. Wobbly.
“Then let me stay… for a second more.”
The moment everything tipped.
His weight collapsed into you, and you barely caught him. His breath hitched — sharp, wrong.
“I… I’m… okay,” he gasped.
“No, you’re not!” Your voice shattered. “Please—please don’t—”
But this time it trembled. His eyes lost focus, light flickering like something burning out.
His hands found yours, weak, barely holding on.
“I… always… try… for you…”
The words fell apart between breaths that didn’t come back.
No joke. No grin. No movement.
Just stillness where there had always been motion.
“Sonic?” Your voice came out small. Broken. You shook him gently. “Sonic. Please. Please wake up.”
The city lights kept shining.
And you stayed there on the wet pavement, holding the hero who saved everyone — and might have left you behind.
“Please…” you whispered against his chest, where his heart had been racing minutes ago.
Author's note: Hello Sonic fans, how are we feeling after the new update??
I, personally, am feeling terrible.
This fic was inspired by the song Cure from Alien Stage, mostly the instrumental, the ending of the song gave me a lot of motivation to write this.
I really don't like how I wrote this one but I hope you guys enjoyed it <3
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