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Brain Freeze, Chapter 4: Time Out of Mind

ao3

Most of these people are cartoon villains who exist to pollute the environment. They are having a great time.

Two of these characters are in a angst fic. Only one of them realizes this.

I don't know what else there is to say, folks.

Part 1, 2, 3, 5 (Complete)

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Whatever happened next was a bit of a blur for the hedgehog. Not the fun kind that came with the wind rushing past his ears and momentum pushing him on during a run. This blur was slow. Agonizing. It felt like he was staring up at a cloudy night sky, knowing that the sun would never rise and the stars had all burnt out. Yet the rest of the galaxy was moving on.

A bunch of shapes and colors made a cacophony in his periphery. Nothing and no one breached whatever impenetrable bubble had surrounded him. With one exception.

At one point, something—probably Scratch and Grounder—dragged him to a prison cell. He fought all the way there, even if what was left of his heart wasn’t in it. The robots could probably tell, since no growls or muffled curses left his lips on their short journey.

Tails stayed in the control room with Robotnik. A quiet voice in his big brother didn’t understand why. It would be better for the fox to remain within his sight. The kit wasn’t supposed to go off on his own. He was still too little. Most of the time, he followed that rule. Why wasn’t he now?

The hedgehog wanted to re-instate that ban. That way, he would at least know what was being done to his friend. As it was, his imagination was going haywire on a hamster wheel. Would Tails become little more than a servant? Waiting on his enemies hand and foot, even lower on the ladder than Coconuts? Or would Robotnik choose to mutilate him even more? A cyborg soldier or a parade attraction?

Sonic stewed in his fear and hatred for what felt like weeks. He registered that he had been tied up in a dungeon, but quickly disregarded that fact.

He was way past caring.

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The two robots danced and sang their way all the way back to the control room. They won! Really, actually won!

When they returned, their Glorious Leader was sitting on his chair. He stared at the fox brat with a hand on his chin and a contemplative look.

Scratch and Grounder saluted him. “Sonic’s tied up in his cell!”

“And there’s nooooo way he’s getting out, your horribleness!”

The announcement drew Robotnik’s dark eyes towards them. “Finally!” He turned around to face the monitor. “With that hedgehog weighed down, I can finally take over Mobius!” He hit a few buttons and the schematics for the Updated Servitude Chips came up. “Oh, how glorious is my genius!”

“Very glorious, Master!”

“Yeah! No one is more glorious than you!”

“Super!”

The last voice caught Robotnik in a snare, once again reeling his attention towards Gear.

“And then there’s you…” the doctor muttered. “I will just have to get used to it I suppose. For now…” He turned to Scratch. “The three of you will join Coconuts on sanitation duty. Go clean the bathrooms.”

“WHA-OF COURSE O GLORIOUS MASTER!” Grounder said, the chip suppressing his protests with great vigour.

Scratch bowed again. Gear nodded and followed his two superiors

Once they were out of earshot, Grounder grumbled. “Whatever Master says—I just wish it wasn’t sanitation duty.”

Scratch smacked him. “Agreed! But it’s not right to say stuff like that!”

“But you just did,” Gear pointed out from their shadows.

Scratch turned around and grabbed him by the scruff. “What did you just say to me, you little brat!”

Gear blinked. “You agreed with him.”

Scratch’s beak clanged as he clamped his mouth shut.

“Haha!” Grounder laughed. “The fox got you there!”

“You shut it!” Scratch said. “Listen Gear. Master said that you had to obey us, and that means you're even more worthless than we are!”

“And we’re scrap metal!”

Gear scrunched his brows and opened his mouth.

Scratch reached out a hand and grabbed his muzzle. “So shut it!”

Their Master’s pet frowned, but nodded.

“Now, cmon, freak! We’re gonna make you and Coconuts clean all the toilets!”

Scratch roughly dragged Gear all the way to the bathrooms. The kid never fought back, but that didn’t make the experience any kinder.

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Robotnik looked over his plans for the mass-produced chips. It was so satisfying to see it all come together. (A thought itched at the back of his brain, however, as if he was forgetting something… Ehh, his genius could figure it out later.)

The hedgehog was in such a state of disrepair that it would make Mama Robotnik look sound of mind, his Freeze-o-matic was ready, and the mass production of his free tickets to world domination were within sight. The doctor was ready to pass “Go” a million times over and collect two trillion Mobiums!!!

Even with his excitement, he couldn’t help but pause as he looked over his original plans. The ones he made before realizing Sonic was at Mount Splatterhorn.

Now that his main problem was gone, he was presented with a new opportunity. A chance to truly enjoy his meal as he gobbled up the planet.

Where was the fun in everyone just immediately falling in line? Why not incite a few fruitless little wars to enjoy? He could turn the entire world into his own personal board game, and he had some excellent pieces to experiment with.

.................................................................................................................................

Coconuts could hardly believe his ears or eyes when he found out.

“He’s actually on our side now?” he asked, looking the fox up and down.

“Mhm!” Grounder nodded enthusiastically. "This is Gear!"

It wasn’t long before the three robots had shoved all the work on the little kit. They did the bare minimum by scraping a wet sponge across the floor, before telling the mutant to mop it up. Then he had to polish the toilets, clean out the pipes, dust the ceiling fans, sweep up the dust, and pull the flowers and non-invasive species out of the garden. The robots poked and tripped him up whenever they could. He took it all silently.

Gear’s final chore was to pour expired egg whites and waste from the labs into the garden’s water supply. He was left with bruises that were impossible to see under all the mud caked into his fur. By that point, it was a few hours past midnight and the kit was as exhausted as he was dirty.

Coconuts sighed, crossing his arms. Staring sadly at the wobbling fox, he said “I guess there isn’t anything else to be done tonight.”

Gear passed out on the spot.

The robots stared, somewhat confused.

“Uhhhh,” Grounder said.

“Should we just–” Coconuts mimed sweeping.

“Ohh!” Scratch snapped. “I have an idea!”

He raced back into the fortress. After a few awkward and quiet minutes, he came back with a tiny metal cage. Picking up the kit by a tail, he shoved him in.

“There! This can be his first bedroom!”

The robots chuckled and made their way back inside, Gear in tow.

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The next morning saw Robotnik yelling and banging against the door to Scratch’s charging room.

It quickly flew open, and Scratch threw himself across the threshold. “Terrible morning, oh glorious leader!”.

Pointing to the floor, the doctor remarked, “What is terrible is the mud on my floor! That leads straight to your room!”

Scratch’s beak fell open as he finally noticed the tracks. He stuttered cluckingly for a moment. “But Gear—I mean we all cleaned up so well yesterday!”

“Like I have any reason to believe you! You're my creation and I am as dishonest as they come! Now tell me, where is the source of that stench!”

Scratch pointed behind him to the small cage dangling from his ceiling. Gear let out little uncomfortable gasps from behind the bars.

“Right. Him. Why is he in your room?”

“We-well, your evilness, he fell asleep last night.”

“I can see that, you nicombot. Bring him to the lab. And tell Coconuts to clean this up, and you and Grounder need to get started on those eggs!”

Robotnik sighed as he looked at the fox’s prone, disgusting body. This was extremely annoying. Thanks to those dumbots, he now had to worry about his pet getting an infection. It would be a lie if he said he was not a little pleased with the abuse, but this was a long-term investment! What’s the point if the brat gets crippled or killed because his other slaves are too stupid?

He slapped on some surgical gloves and inspected the kid’s wound from the chip operation. It was rather small, and it didn’t seem like an infection had fully set in. Robotnik may have not been that sort of doctor, but he could certainly muddle his way through this.

As he disinfected the cut, he firmly decided to use the freak as a part of the spectacle of his conquest rather than a petty cleaner. Some cyborg enhancements should be enough to cover for the fact that he’s not very capable without his pal. Though making everyone aware of the fact that he was once the Hero of Mobius’ sidekick may prove a tad difficult—he’s far from Sonic’s level of infamy.

Regardless, he had to be healed so Robotnik could break him in the right way.

The (very much not a medical) doctor left his pet prone in the corner of the lab once he was done with tending to the wound. Gear was bound to wake up soon enough; it wasn’t like Robotnik gave him anesthesia or painkillers. He wrote a note saying “stay here”, left it right in front of the brat, and went to enjoy his eggs.

And they were delicious. While eating, he ordered Scratch and Grounder to patrol the lair until sunset. He also told Coconuts to get back on sanitation duty alone.

Once he finished, the mad scientist returned to the lab. He found Gear resting his head on his hands, still lying belly-down on the table.

Gear focused as the doctor entered the room. His hands fell and he bowed his head. His Master ignored him and returned to his workstation.

He performed some routine inspection and inventory on all his greatest inventions. The Slow-Go Beam Weapon, the Super Supreme Stopper Zapper, and his Eggmobiles, among others.

There was a missing bolt in one of the Eggmobiles. The bin holding that type of bolt was located in one of the storage closets attached to the lab. And it was the worst one.

Robotnik sighed as he opened the door. This storage room was a quirk of the building’s design. It was tall and narrow, dropping down to the floor below. Old, forgotten projects, discontinued products, and rarely used parts were kept here. There was also a rather outdated control panel for the entire base hooked up to the wall opposite of the singular entrance. It was difficult to see through all the junk.

With all of the storage bins, there was no room for walkways, so the doctor installed a mobile ladder that hung from the ceiling. As long as he had a sturdy grip, it could bring him anywhere in the storage room. It was still a pain to rummage around until he found the right parts.

However, there was a way to sidestep the process this time.

“Brat! Get me an elescalator bolt from that shelf!”

Gear jumped off the table. The wound on his back was close enough to his tails to give him a little trouble. Regardless, he drifted into the supply room and down to the bin. He rummaged around before silently holding up two types of bolts.

“The one on the left!”

The kit gave him a confused look..

Robotnik glared. “If you have something to say, say it!”

A small smile slipped across the kit’s face for a fraction of a second. “My left or your left?”

“My left!”

Gear nodded and brought him the right bolt.

Robotnik was far from impressed, but at least he didn’t have to go in that damned closet.

He sent the kid on a few more errands. Gear’s knowledge of tools was sorely lacking, but he occasionally surprised Robotnik with his initiative, grabbing the right part before he could ask.

All in all, he was… not a terrible lab assistant.

By lunchtime, the kit had earned enough of Robotnik’s faith that he was sent to deliver Sonic one of two meals for the day.

A few new rules were installed in Gear for this task:

You are extremely happy to do this because you hate Sonic the Hedgehog, and watching him suffer makes you warm and giddy inside.

You will not speak to Sonic unless he refers to you by name or as Robotnik’s belonging.

If he calls you “Tails”, rip out one of his quills.

And Robotnik made sure to emphasize the first rule he ever gave the fox after inserting the chip: Your only loyalty is to Robotnik and his empire. You are to obey no one else.

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The hedgehog’s stomach rumbled. He did not register this, too caught up in the slow, shaky pumping of blood in his head and shoulder. He wasn’t sure how much he slept last night, if at all. The bite on his shoulder ached, itched, and burned all at once. There was nothing else to distract him but his fear, so he would take the pain and the cold, stale cell.

He had heard spooky stories before. Ones about creatures of the night that terrorized and entranced their victims before sucking out their life force, leaving them as empty husks or worse. The fangs that dug into his flesh did not belong to a horror movie monster, but the results were certainly similar.

Robotnik was truly a plague.

Sounds from the cell’s locks releasing echoed through the sterile prison. Sonic ignored it, preparing to tune out any of the tyrant’s taunts.

Then, familiar, pattering footsteps approached him.

The hedgehog shrunk into himself as much as possible. It wasn’t much, since chains and weights circled around his limbs and bolted him to the floor. Sturdy metal, designed to withstand his power and prevent him from spin-dashing. He couldn’t escape this, even if he was willing to try.

And the tether binding the remains of his will to this fortress was approaching him with plain bread, water, and a few raisins.

He wasn’t ready for this. He could never be ready for this. Some part of him would always be waiting to wake up from this nightmare, or just die once his body finally figured out that there was a cavity where an essential part was supposed to be.

The hedgehog’s need to check on his little brother eventually won out.

The kid looked… not great. He was clearly in need of a dunk in a river, a good night’s sleep, and a few extra meals. There were no new (visible) wounds, at least.

“Tails…”

Despite the scratchiness in his throat, the name snuck out.

The fox emotionlessly set down the food out of arm’s reach. He walked behind Sonic and roughly yanked out two of his quills.

Sonic hissed, and didn’t say anything else. He stared at his little brother, unsure what to do with the grief filling his lungs.

Tails picked up the food tray and sat across from his older brother turned enemy. He glared and held out the piece of bread for him to nibble on.

Sonic’s stomach rumbled at the moment he most felt like puking.

“Please… please…” he whispered. There was no hope left in him, not after seeing his brother’s spark die. He didn’t know what he was saying. Some sort of muscle memory or echo of the person, the hero, the picket fence he was before used him to speak to the empty shell of his home. “You’re not a follower, kid. You have more potential than anyone I know. Don’t let him convince you that you can’t do anything by yourself.” Sonic huffed out a humorless chuckle, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. “I know that you have more greatness in you than anyone—even I—can see. Just… listen to yourself.”

He didn’t look up.

The coarse bread bumped his nose. The hedgehog’s awareness jumped to the forefront, but his reflexes were lacking at the moment. He raised his head to look at the fox, his breath stuttering.

The offending piece of bread pushed on his lips. It was hard enough to be a bit painful, so the hedgehog finally bit the bullet.

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The doctor allotted Gear a short amount of time to eat his own lunch before he returned to the lab.

Then, Robotnik gave him a few small tasks to handle while he made plans to set up a casino on Mount Splatterhorn. Once the snow finished melting, he could use it to drain the pockets of both residents and tourists. From there, he could expand his influence, draw some attention from the world leaders, and incite absolute carnage. He looked up from drawing out his plans to find that hours had passed in his fervor.

He deserved a treat for this much evilness! Perhaps he should have a long, luxurious bath this evening. Ahhhh, now that sounded nice.

Tempted beyond all reason by this idea, Robotnik snapped his fingers to grab Gear’s attention.

“Follow me.” Robotnik strode towards the door, grabbing Gear’s cage on the way out. The kit trailed closely behind.

Robotnik showed him to his residential quarters. He set the cage down in the corner of the living room and pointed out the doors that led to the dining room/kitchen, his bedroom, and his bathroom.

“Draw me a bath and then don’t bother me for the rest of the night. Try to not get caught by the nicombots, I don’t want to deal with another infection. Just go entertain yourself. Don’t come back here until you're ready to go to bed.” He pointed to the small cage, making sure his pet understood his orders.

Gear left to prepare the bath. It was a large tub. Even with Robotnik’s advanced pipes, it would take over twenty minutes.

The tyrant knew just the way to pass the time.

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“I’m feeling rather generous today, hedgehog.” Robotnik’s voice grated against his ears. The human remained standing. He held a medium sized plate with a metal covering hiding its contents.

The prisoner grit his teeth at the sight.

The doctor clicked his tongue to the non-reaction. “As I was SAYING, I felt like giving you something nice for your second and final meal of the day: a chilidog!”

He lifted the covering revealing a steaming, wondrous chilidog. As much as the hedgehog hated it, he had always been a fan of Robotnik’s recipe. It was simply too good. The smell alone normally brightened his day, ‘cause it meant that they would get some food and fun.

The cell was too dark and cold for any such joy to reach it. The hatred, the disbelief, the happiness at the meal was simply not there. The prisoner’s stomach filled with lead that numbed the rest of his body. He didn’t react outwardly to the chilidog, much to Robotnik’s delight.

“Ah, well if you don’t want it, I suppose I could eat it.” No reaction. “Or hand it off to my little buddy.” A finger gave the faintest twitch. “He did quite well as my lab assistant today, perhaps that deserves a reward.”

The hedgehog bit the inside of his cheek. The mad doctor stole and ruined everything, even when he was being “generous”.

Robotnik moved the plate back and forth trying to catalyze a bigger reaction out of his nemesis. Nothing.

He hummed, changing tactics. “Or, if you would prefer, I could make him despise chilidogs. Make him ill every time he smells one. That way, no one else will ever get to share one with him. Would you like that?” His voice was too deep to be called sickingly sweet, but the mockery of kindness was even worse.

The hedgehog’s hands clenched into fists. There was so little left of Tails. He had no way of stopping the doctor from destroying more of him and creating his own Gear from the rubble. It didn’t even matter what he said.

Robotnik faux-sighed. “I’m disappointed in you, Sonic. Here I am, offering you a gift, and you won’t even show a little thanks. I’ll give you plenty to be grateful for.” He forced the chilidog down the hedgehog’s throat and cackled when he choked.

“You really are a weakling. And I’ll make sure everyone knows it.” The tyrant smiled gleefully. “Here’s the plan: You will rot down here for however long I like. Meanwhile, I am going to violently and forcefully seize control over Mobius, with my perfect little champion at my side.”

The hedgehog tried to lower his head, but Robotnik grabbed his chin and cleaned off the mess from his meal.

Every part of him felt rubbed raw, so it wasn’t anything to write home about.

“I’m thinking of some technological enhancements, but that is less important than the cover story, in Gear’s case.” Robotnik continued matter-of-factly. “The entire point of showing him off is to highlight what a fool you are. And what better way of doing that than by making everyone aware of a simple truth?

“Gear–no, Tails has only ever been of use to me.”

Sonic tried to deny that absurdity, but the small word got caught in his throat.

“So, here is how the Robotnik Empire begins: a young little mutant is donated by his parents to the great doctor to use however he pleases. The doctor graciously allows the brat to serve him, eventually sending him out to spy on a menace causing problems. Who is that menace? Why—you of course!”

The anger and frustration building up within the hedgehog’s chest was so cold that it burned him. He could bring himself to do nothing but listen to these lies while his freedom and spirit were bound.

“The little fox lets his Master’s enemy think that they were friends. Lets the entire world think that he stood for goodness and freedom, when in reality, he was working against the hedgehog the entire time. And once the opportunity arose, Gear showed his true colors and captured the enemy.” Robotnik waved his hands about as if he were recounting a grand myth.

“It didn’t take the rest of the world long to realize that Sonic the Hedgehog’s beloved ‘little brother,’ Tails, never really existed.”

The hedgehog’s empty heart thumped. His focus wandered back to the pulsing wound on his shoulder. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could pretend the doctor was the imaginary one. That would be nice.

He stared at the grey walls, ignoring the tirades until the doctor left.

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“Patrol the lair,” were their orders. The chicken and the drill ran up and down and around. No one else was in or outside the fortress. Intruders were extremely unlikely. Even they knew that.

Scratch and Grounder decided, then, that they would keep an eye out for Gear. Tormenting him was bound to be at least a little entertaining.

Grounder made his millionth tread across the hard flooring, eyes set dead ahead. His processors were severely underwhelmed, as were Scratch’s. They had already been through every conversation topic and mean spirited prank they could think up. By sunset, their brains ran on empty.

The drill robot must have been really losing it, because he could have sworn he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing over, it was nothing. Just a brown table with a fancy looking vase set up against a blank wall.

Could machines hallucinate out of boredom?

Scratch had moved on without him, so Grounder sped up. The older one sent him an annoyed look. It fell away quickly, and they refocused on the task at hand. Rather, they lost any potential distractions.

A loud CRASH promised to give them a new one.

“What was that?!” Grounder yelled. He held his drill-hands up to his head and surveyed the room.

“It was this stupid thing!” Scratch replied. He was sprawled out on the floor, holding up a banana peel.

Grounder gasped. “Coconuts!”

“What? No, are you stupid? This isn’t Coconuts!”

“But Coconuts is a monkey and monkeys love bananas!”

The two of them argued about the potential deep meaning of the banana peel as they continued down the hallway. The argument further devolved into complete nonsense.

“AHHHH!”

Scratch slipped on a second banana.

“Hahahaha!” Grounder pointed and laughed.

“Shut up! One banana may have been a coincidence, but this is targeted!” He threw the browning peel down and stomped over to the closest vent opening.

“Are you in there Coconuts!?”

“Hey! I was th-“ Grounder stopped behind his older brother, staring at something over his head. “Uh, what’s that?”

Scratch turned around to deliver an incredulous look before following his gaze.

On the wall across from them was a large, menacing silhouette. A monster with eight, clambering limbs and a cavernous mouth. The black lines slowly reached across the entire wall, pausing once the beast seemingly noticed them.

“M-M-MOONSTER!!”

Grounder immediately sprinted in the opposite direction. Scratch flailed, hot on his treads.

“FEED ME.” The voice that echoed through the hallways was scratchy and powerful despite not being extremely loud. If the robots had hackles, they would have been through the roof.

Speaking of, a large bolt fell from the ceiling, nearly clipping Scratch’s tail. He screeched and sped past his companion.

“Wait for me!” Grounder cried.

“Sorry!” Scratch tripped over a rope and onto a small patch of ice. He danced a jig, throwing out his lanky limbs all over the place until he found his balance.

A beam of light zapped his outstretched arm, freezing it into a chicken-cicle (chicken cube?)

“Ahh get it off get it off!” He waved it around, eventually getting knocked into by Grounder, who slid all the way across the ice like he was hydro-planing. The two slammed into a nearby wall. Luckily for Scratch, the impact broke the ice trapping his hand. The metal appendage was still freezing, however.

“FEED ME!”

The two robots scrambled to get up. They each pushed each other towards where they thought the monster was, calling for it to eat the other.

“Wait!” Scratch said. “We should feed the fox brat to it!”

“Perfect!” Grounder agreed. “Except we don’t know where he is! And we nearly got in trouble for roughing him up last night!”

“Ahh, you’re right.” Scratch slumped.

“I’ve got another idea! Follow me!”

Grounder flew down the hall, Scratch right behind him.

They seemed to lose the monster for a little while, but before long, there were beams of energy shooting at them from every which way. One hit a vase and turned it to stone. A second hit one of many paintings of Robotnik and caused it to float off the wall.

The bombardment eventually slowed down once the robots got to the prison wing. Grounder sped towards one in particular. Scratch skidded to a stop.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna feed Sonic to the monster!”

“What will Master think?!”

“Better him than us! Plus we’ll get rid of the pest for good!”

Grounder messed around with his interchangeable limbs while Scratch pulled at his plumage and ground his teeth together so hard they let off sparks.

There was a loud, sudden movement from the doorway. Robotnik’s Super Supreme Stopper Zapper rolled in.

Without warning, it started firing at the two robots. Scratch jumped and flailed to get out of the way, while Grounder hunched over the door, still trying to get to Sonic.

After a few more desperate tries, it swung open.

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The prisoner’s ears twitched as sounds of chaos came from outside his cell. What the hell was going on…?

He looked over to the door as the lock jiggled. His ears picked up what sounded like blaster shots from outside.

The door swung open, revealing a panicking Grounder.

He rushed over to the hedgehog and released him from the weights, chains, and bolts.

Sonic stiffened, hesitating as an opportunity finally presented itself. The little spark of hope he thought was gone for good flickered. If there was even the slightest chance, he owed it to that little fox to try.

He quickly spin-dashed Grounder’s noggin, stunning him.

Then, he rushed outside to find Scratch turned to stone. A shot from the Stopper Zapper near the entrance to the prison block landed near the hedgehog. On reflex,, he jumped out of the way.

Turning back, he grabbed Grounder and used him as a metal shield. He shoved the robot towards the machine and raced around to its back, not even blinking when the robot’s shout was silenced.

As he turned the corner, Sonic came face-to-face with his younger brother. He had no idea what to make of the fact that Tails was behind the control panel, but he could make sense of it later.

Before the kit had a chance to react, his brother grabbed him and booked it down the hallway.

With impressive speed, the kit immediately grabbed onto Sonic and took another bite out of his shoulder. Aggravating the already irritated wound. It made its anger known to Sonic, who winced in pain. The distraction slowed him down long enough for Tails to fly out of his arms.

The two of them stopped in a random hallway. It was in a state of pure confusion, if the banana peels in the distance, random stone objects, and floating portrait had anything to say about it.

Tails immediately flew down the hall. Sonic raced off in the same direction, but slipped and flipped over backwards.

The floor was icy to the touch, and even more slippery. The Stopper Zapper wasn’t the only invention that had been a part of this..

It took Sonic a few tries to escape the DIY ice rink. Tails had already vanished.

Taking a deep breath, Sonic reminded himself that he just needed an opening. He looked around the hallway, trying to come up with everything he knew about Robotnik’s base.

A shadow in the corner caught his eye. There was what seemed to be a terrifying monster dancing across the walls. Its shadow got closer and closer to the hedgehog.

Knowing a trick when he saw one, Sonic put his fingers up to estimate the angle of the light and shadow, and raced over to the nearest vent opening. It was a tad little for him. Thankfully, it’s not like he cared what happened to the fortress, so he spindashed through the system. The metal groaned and snapped as he made his way through.

After a bit of burrowing, he found a tall and thin storage room that seemed to take up two floors while having about one square foot of walkspace. There were some makeshift control panels set up around halfway up that Tails was trying to work. Near the top of the room was a door and a fold-down ladder connected to the ceiling. The storage room seemed to be a bin for all of the labs’ miscellaneous doo-dads.

Sonic grit his teeth. Scanning the contents of the room didn’t give him a lot of ideas.

Tails glanced down at him and seemed to speed up with whatever he was doing.

Tiiiiiiiiiiiiick toooooock went a clock shoved to the back of one of the shelves.

Sonic brought his hand up to his nose, desperately trying to think. He looked back up to Tails, muzzle once again a bit bloody.

It was a long shot, but maybe—

“Tails!” Sonic shouted.

The kit’s brow seemed to furrow, before he was shocked backwards. His tails sputtered as something in him forced his body down.

As the chip enforced one of Robotnik’s orders.

Scowling, the kit lowered. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed a few of Sonic’s quills and yanked.

Simultaneously, Sonic snatched the kids wrist and sprinted up the wall. He spiraled up the room so fast that the momentum destroyed most of it. Bins, the controls, forgotten pieces of scrap, and many other objects were sucked into the whirlwind. Even the ladder broke off. The cacophony did not stop even after Sonic dragged Tails into a lab.

The kit did his best to shake the grip from where he was being pulled along. And he would keep fighting.

Sonic couldn’t risk losing him, not now.

His solution was right in front of him. A large machine with three thin canons plated in permanent frost.

Before either of them had a chance to think, Sonic deposited the kit in the machine’s line of fire, raced behind it, and pressed a button. A snowy blast burst out of it, covering the Tails from his toes to the tips of his ears..

Gasping as he fully realized what he just did, Sonic dug through the pile of snow.

“Sorry, little buddy,” he whispered, barely holding off a meltdown.

A thin layer of ice enveloped the kit. Sonic picked up his no-longer squirming friend and raced all the way out of the fortress and to the closest town.

It was a few hours later when Robotnik’s bath finally turned luke-warm. He got out and dressed, humming to himself.

He finally remembered that there was a specific type of discontinued bolt used in the Updated Servitude Chip. He had a moderate stockpile, but he should probably do a tally.

Curiously, none of his robots came when he called them to carry out the errand. Not Scratch, not Grounder, not even Gear. Eventually he had to call for Coconuts, all the way down in the sewers.

Only a few minutes later, Coconuts crashed through his door shouting in a panic.

“Everything’s wrecked!”

Robotnik raced down to the lab, where there was a pile of snow on the ground. Then the storage closet, where all of the discontinued bolts and other pieces of equipment were scattered and broken. And then the jail cells, where he found two statues shaped like his servants and no rodent.

“I hate that hedgehog!”

#aosth fic

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#aosth fic