Work Text:
He was driving a truck.
His hands trembled against the steering wheel, eyes completely unblinking and stinging in the wind, which whistled in his and Maddie’s ears — she was here too, he eventually remembered — and he was pretty sure he could feel his heart pounding in his throat. Maddie’s eyes were also entirely transfixed on the jagged terrain in front of them as they navigated through the outskirts of their little town into a desolate clearing, scattered with even littler flames.
The bridge leading into town had collapsed — that wasn’t going to be fun to fix, he was sure. Folks were gonna have to go somewhere else for some of their other groceries. Local sporting events would be canceled, and things in Green Hills would probably be a bit delayed for the time being. Despite all this, and the tremendous work that would have to be done downtown, Tom and Maddie Wachowski worried about one thing and one thing only.
Sonic.
Their kid — all three feet and seven inches of him — was in this clearing, right now, having lured a particularly deranged (and… electric?) Dr. Robotnik and his giant robot away from the center of Green Hills. They didn’t know where in the clearing their son was, but by the looks of it, he probably wasn’t faring too well. Worry about finding him first, Tom had said to himself.
Another large crash suddenly rumbled throughout the clearing, and a sharp turn around a corner revealed that Robotnik’s giant robot had collapsed, though it didn’t take long for it to be standing again, stomping toward—
“There he is! Go! Go, go go!” Maddie exclaimed, pointing to Sonic, who was limping toward something glowing magnificent green on the charred ground. Tom had recalled something about an emerald. That had to be it.
Pedal to the metal, the truck lurched forward, or so he thought. Sonic was right there, but the truck did not move. He pressed his foot on the gas, harder this time, (it was an older truck, maybe it needed a little extra time to get to speed…?), but the truck remained static. What the hell?
Tom frantically tried to unbuckle himself, figuring that his and Maddie’s best bet at this point was to just run to Sonic and hope they caught him in time, but he also couldn’t move. He and Maddie and the truck were completely frozen in time as they watched their son stagger toward the emerald. Tom wanted to scream at Sonic to run as they watched him collapse onto his hands and knees, finally collecting the emerald in shaky hands. A shadow fell atop Sonic, and Tom couldn’t even close his eyes to avoid the horrible sight of Robotnik crushing their son under metallic feet.
Tom then blinked, and he was suddenly outside the truck, in the same clearing. The sky was devoid of any color, or maybe it was an ashy brown. Maddie was nowhere to be seen. He hollered her name regardless, but received no answer. Everything was eerily quiet. The foliage surrounding the clearing was completely scorched, and ash slowly rained down from the sky. Tom felt sick to his stomach at the realization that the rest of his hometown might also be this barren.
The giant robot was gone, or maybe it was crumpled somewhere else in the clearing. Maybe it took Robotnik out, too. Good riddance. He called for Maddie again, his voice pathetically echoing against the mountains. Okay, seriously, what the hell?
A shaky hand ran through his hair, and through his panic, eventually spotted something not too far off in the distance. Something unmoving. Something dirty and blue.
Oh, God, no.
“No, no, no, no, no!”
He sprinted forward, and this time he could move with ease, and skidded hard on his knees next to Sonic, who laid on his side, horribly still, eyes shut. Tom remembered California as he carefully pulled the boy — his boy — into his arms, and felt nauseous at just how cold Sonic was. He pressed an ear to his chest, searching for his heartbeat again, but it was nowhere to be heard.
“Sonic, hey,” Tom pleaded with a quiet, wobbly voice, gently trying to shake his son awake. “It’s me, it’s your dad.” His voice caught in his throat, and he took in a sharp inhale. “Open your eyes for me, bud. C’mon. Open your eyes.”
Sonic did not answer. His eyes did not open.
Tom’s eyes burned with sharp tears, and he shook Sonic again, begging for him to wake up, to no avail. He desperately cried to Maddie one more time — she saved him before, she would do it again — but his only response was his voice cracking and echoing off the mountains once more, mocking him.
Horrible, heavy sobs racked his body as the realization hit him, and all he could do was succumb. Tom cradled Sonic in his arms, his face buried into the top of Sonic’s head. He was completely limp. One of Sonic’s arms dangled uselessly.
Sonic was dead. His son was—
Tom’s eyes shot open, and he gasped for air in a dark, warm room. Letting his eyes adjust soon revealed that he was no longer in the clearing. He was at home, in his bed, far, far away from that clearing.
It was rare for Tom to have nightmares. He’d gotten them on occasion, as anyone would, but it only ever took him a few short moments to ground himself to reality and settle back into safer dreams. His nightmares may have even ramped up a bit after Sonic (and then subsequently, Knuckles and Tails) entered his life, but they were still manageable. They were typical “new parent” types of nightmares, he soon learned. He’d even had this nightmare from time to time, racing into the clearing in search of his son, but never before was it this vivid.
He slowly sat up, and upon blinking his eyes again, felt hot tears spill from his eyes and down his face. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the horrible scenes still plaguing his head. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, wiping his tears away, (though they returned soon after), and forced himself to work through some breathing exercises. This, too, would pass, he kept telling himself.
(Even though he didn’t really believe it.)
Every inhale was unsteady, and he could only hold his breath for a few short moments before he had to release it again. He was starting to convince himself that he was about to work himself into a heart attack if he didn’t calm down soon, when suddenly, a light snore to Tom’s right pulled his attention away from his staggered breathing, and instead toward Maddie, the source of the noise. Watching the slow rise and fall of her chest brought him some of the solace he’d been grasping for.
Tom came to the inevitable conclusion that he wasn’t going to be falling asleep again tonight. At least, not for quite some time. He carefully pulled his covers away and stood, avoiding Ozzie asleep at his feet with practiced ease. Every instinct told him to go check on Sonic. He knew, rationally, that Sonic was just fine, sound asleep upstairs. He’d tucked him in just hours ago. He’d go check on him eventually, of course, (it was one of those instincts he couldn’t help), but until his jitters subsided, he didn’t want to be obsessively watching his son sleep for God knows how long.
He quietly cracked the bedroom door open, stepping out and shutting the door as silently as possible. He miraculously avoided every creaky floorboard, which was an accomplishment he didn’t take lightly, considering the true age of the house.
His plan was to just get himself a cold glass of water in hopes that it’d reset his nervous system. He’d take a few more minutes to breathe before going to check on Sonic and head back to bed. No one would even have to know that he’d been awake.
Therefore, he did not expect to find Sonic shoveling a fistful of shredded cheese into his mouth in front of the fridge at half past two in the morning.
“Sonic?” Tom blanched. The hedgehog’s head whipped in Tom’s direction, his already big green eyes impossibly wide at being caught in the act. “What on Earth are you doing up, bud?”
“I n’ded a m’dni—”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Sonic swallowed. “I needed a midnight snack! Is that a crime?” Even in the middle of the night, at a whisper, his dramatics refused to cease.
Tom couldn’t help but smile and release the shaky breath he didn’t know he’d still been holding. His son was safe, just as he knew he would be.
Sonic closed the fridge, the bag of shredded cheese still in his hands. He clamored up onto one of the barstools in front of the kitchen island as Tom navigated toward the cupboard for a glass.
“Can I have a glass of water, too?” Sonic asked. Tom’s response was simply grabbing a second glass.
“What’re you doin’ up, Dad?” he continued, fishing for another handful of shredded cheese. Tom felt his heart skip a beat, and not even by virtue of Sonic’s innocent interrogation and subsequent remembrance of his nightmare.
He’d never forget the first time Sonic called him Dad, and every time since, felt his heart soar upon hearing the title. He wrapped an arm around Sonic from behind and pressed a light kiss atop his quills before moving toward the freezer.
Tom then shrugged as he quietly scooped ice into his and Sonic’s glasses. He poured water into Sonic’s first, setting it in front of him, before pouring his own glass. He then sat across from Sonic at the island, who looked at him expectantly.
Tom took a while to get the cue. “It’s nothin’, bud. I promise,” he lied.
Sonic’s brows furrowed, and he watched his dad with an intense green-eyed gaze. Both Sonic and Tom were awful liars, and could usually snuff one another out in an instant.
The kitchen was silent then, save for the occasional sounds of ice clinking against glass.
“Was it a nightmare?” Sonic dared to ask.
Cover blown, Wachowski. “You’re a pretty smart kid, you know that?”
Sonic smirked, clearly very pleased with himself. There was silence again, but it hung around a little more comfortably.
“What was it about?” Sonic continued, blissfully innocent.
The horrible scenes of Tom holding the cold, limp body of his son in his arms replayed in his mind. “Nothin’ you need to worry your little head about, bud. I’m fine, I swear. Just some work stress, that's all.”
Sonic’s brow furrowed again. He wouldn’t push the matter, but he didn’t like Tom lying to him when it was so obvious that he was very much not fine, and it was very much not just work stress. There was hardly any work to even stress about.
Tom could sense this, but there was absolutely not a world where he repeated his nightmare verbatim to his son. He was unsure if there was even a world where he repeated his nightmare to Maddie, but he’d worry about that another time. Instead, he settled with something else.
“Alright, I’m gonna ask you one of those big, serious questions that I know you hate, but I just need you to give me an honest answer, okay?”
Sonic stared back at him, a little confused, he’d admit. “Okay.”
“And, seriously, be honest. Don’t worry about upsetting me. I’m a tough guy. Okay?”
Sonic simply nodded.
Tom took a beat to find the right words. “Am I doing a good job at… being your dad?”
Sonic looked a little dumbfounded, but answered almost immediately. “Uh, am I a blue hedgehog?”
Tom wanted to laugh, but bit his tongue. He watched closely as Sonic searched for the right words of his own.
“I mean, sure, sometimes I dread your big lectures, and it’s honestly a crime that you and Mom don’t let me have chili dogs for dinner every night, but I know it’s because you care. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot.” That got a small exhale of a laugh out of Tom. If it weren’t for the late hour, he wasn’t sure if Sonic would be this earnest.
Sonic paused for a brief moment, tapping idle fingers on the side of his glass before continuing. “There’s a reason I looked up to you for so long, and I think it’s because I knew that you were always meant to be my dad.”
Tom could’ve melted into a puddle of his own tears right then and there. “Well, thank you for your honesty, bud,” he nodded, his voice a little shakier than he would’ve liked.
“And I’d be shocked if Knux and Tails didn’t feel the same way,” Sonic added absentmindedly. He even dug his little gloved hand into the bag of shredded cheese as he said it.
Silence enveloped the kitchen again, but there was a sense of finality to it. The pair returned to their glasses of water, and Sonic eventually decided he was done with his midnight snack, returning it to the fridge. Exhaustion was beginning to set in for them again. Sonic’s words hung in Tom’s mind, and he mulled them over as discreetly as he could, breathing back the tears that so desperately wanted to flow.
Once both had finished their glasses of water, Tom quietly set them in the sink, and Sonic hung back to wait for Tom, leaning against the entrance to the kitchen.
“Can I sleep with you guys tonight?” Sonic had eventually asked, right before he and Tom trekked up the stairs.
“Of course, bud,” Tom grinned. He hurried ahead of Sonic in order to make room in his and Maddie’s bed for him. By the time Sonic had made it into the bedroom, his spot was complete. He gave a little pet to Ozzie before clamoring up, careful to not disturb Maddie too much.
Tom pulled the covers over Sonic’s shoulders the moment his quilled head hit his pillow. Sleep was taking him fast. “Goodnight, bud. Love you,” Tom whispered, a heavy hand momentarily resting atop Sonic’s head.
“Goodnight, Dad. I love you forever.”
And that’ll do it. Tears spilled freely from his eyes now, and he let them. He cried silently, but this time, fear didn’t pang at his chest.
As he closed his eyes, the scenes from his distant nightmare were not what replayed in his head. Instead, he saw all the joy Sonic had brought to his life. He saw himself and Maddie getting to be parents together, forever remaining each other’s biggest fans. He saw Sonic getting to be a younger brother and an older brother, and all the laughter and love that accompanied it.
Before he knew it, sunlight was pouring into the bedroom. The word forever rang in his mind.