Summary: Sonic received a train ticket for a trip. He's been planning everything out for this trip, but some of the odd decisions he's been making— including planning something— are starting to worry the people around him.

But the horns keep blaring, signaling to Sonic to climb aboard.

Warning: Post-Sonic Frontiers

Trigger Warnings : Suicide attempt, hallucinations, unreliable narrator

Ships: Minor Vanilla x Vector (barely a line)
Minor Sonadow (I tried not to—)

Part 2 of 3

—

The cold night air blows through his dull blue quills, drawing a shiver to spread across his spine. He hunches over his legs at the same moment he wraps his arms around his upper body. His attempt to retain some heat is thwarted immediately by the wind strengthening in intensity, but he doesn't unfold his body as he balances precariously on the balcony's railing. The streets far below him are illuminated by street lamps and the minimal traffic driving through the city even at this late hour. Those lights, however, are nothing compared to the skyscrapers all around him. They are so bright that they almost turn night into day. They also pollute the atmosphere until the stars are hidden away. He wonders if he would feel any better if he could see the stars. He doubts it. He would probably just be reminded of the headlights of a locomotive barreling toward him.

He hears a door sliding behind him. He glances over his shoulder. Rouge's turquoise eyes are bright with concern, and her lips are drawn into a tight line. Her footsteps are quiet as she steps onto the balcony in her slippers. Rouge's arms wrap around her chest, pulling the edges of her silken robe closer around her to protect from the chill. "Sonic, hun, what are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep," He shrugs. He unfolds his body. He puts his hands on the railing beside him. His legs swing back, and his feet hook on the metal beams holding up the railing. Sonic's grip tightens on the railing. Some primal fear ricochets through his body, but he's left floundering about why he's afraid right now. He looks around curiously, only to find nothing but glass panes. Some have a light shining behind them. The majority are dark, only reflecting back preexisting light.

When Sonic looks back, Rouge is standing beside him. She puts her forearms and elbows on the railing. She leans forward. Her eyes examine everything thoroughly, but her gaze eventually lands on him. She looks at him with the same intensity as the wind. The only difference is the temperature. The wind is bitterly cold, enough to drive a healthy man to sickness. Rouge's eyes are warm, yet Sonic still feels like he's being burned over a large fire. "Why couldn't you sleep? Was the couch too uncomfortable for you?"

"No, it wasn't that," Sonic shakes his head. He glances at the living room on the other side of the sliding doors, visible through the glass. Rouge turned a lamp on as she went through the living room, and Sonic can see the couch in all its glory. All things considered, it isn't the worst place Sonic has ever slept. It doesn't even make that list. The couch is genuinely pretty comfortable, and Sonic knows that he could take a dozen naps on it without ever uttering a word about discomfort. Even if it was uncomfortable, Sonic wouldn't say anything because he insisted on sleeping on it even when Rouge and Shadow both wanted him to sleep in a proper bed. Sonic didn't want to take any of their beds— he didn't even want to stay here but he quickly lost that argument— so he swore he'd be fine on the couch.

Sonic turns his head away from the living room. He stares at the building across from the apartment complex a lot of GUN agents use (apparently, Sonic wasn't paying much attention). As his eyes move from one lit window to the nearest, he wonders if he's breaking his promise. He gets the feeling that Rouge and Shadow would not count his current behavior as being fine on the couch.

"Was it the city, then? Shadow had the same problem when he came to stay with me. He was so used to sleeping in near absolute silence that all the cars and other noises kept him awake," Rouge explains. There is a light teasing tone in her voice as she reveals one of Shadow's 'weaknesses' (in the loosest sense of the word).

"Nope, not that, either. I don't mind noise. I used to sleep in the forest, and then I moved into a house with Tails. In both cases, complete silence meant something was wrong," Sonic shakes his head with a half-smile appearing on his face. The forest is obvious, of course. Nocturnal animals should always be making noises, so silence was wrong. In Tails' case, it was because the kit had the worst sleeping schedule. If the house was silent by the time Sonic was flopping into his bed, Tails was either gone or something awful happened. Sonic sleeps soundly to nature at night or the hammering of metal. It's silence that keeps him wide awake.

Rouge's lips move once more, so Sonic decides to just give her the answer. He gets the feeling that it isn't a surprise for either of them when he tells her. "I couldn't sleep because of the horn."

"Did the train come by?" Rouge asks with an unusual edge of hesitation in her voice. Sonic arches a brow in her direction. She doesn't look away from him, so he comes to figure out that her uncertainty comes from some place on the surface. Deeper down, she isn't confused at all. Only wary, he would wager.

"It did. It was right here. I was going to get on, but I thought you and Shadow would be pretty mad at me if I did. I was only worried about you, though. Sure, Shadow and I can get into a physical fight because one of us is angry, but I know you'd reveal my search history or something to the world. I can't have that happening," Sonic laughs, completely blowing past the train that rolled into this makeshift station earlier in the night. The horn had steadily been getting louder ever since Rouge and Shadow disappeared into their rooms. Sonic was going to ignore it as he usually does at night. He was hoping to catch a few hours since he hasn't been sleeping well recently (obviously—there's a literal train horn constantly bombarding his senses). He knew sleep was beyond his capabilities when the horn was replaced with the train settling into place right on the other side of the glass. Sonic moved closer to see the details about it. He was tempted to get on, but, like he said before, he would upset his friends if he did that.

What he didn't say is that it wasn't that he was upsetting someone that kept him off the train. It was Rouge and Shadow specifically. Rouge has been his friend for a while now, but he thought the extent was the two of them teasing each other and doing some favors here and there that were expected to be returned. Sonic could probably rationalize her offering her apartment to him and her coming out here with that worried expression on her face, but there is nothing in his mind that can comprehend the expressions that flitted across Shadow's face late last night. From the moment that met at the station to the moment Shadow finally walked away from Sonic to get some rest, he has baffled Sonic with the way his eyes keep lingering with emotions familiar on other people's face but unfamiliar on Shadow's face.

"That's good. We have to stay off the train. It isn't the time for a trip," Rouge nods slowly. She looks away from him. She stares directly at the air in front of them. Her expression hardens somewhat. She moves her hand through the wind, letting it ruffle the thin fur around her wrists. "Is it still here?"

"No. It left earlier. I can still hear it, though. It isn't that far. I'm sure I could run after it and find it," Sonic offers, gesturing into the distance. He's gotten really good at pinpointing where the train is based on sound. He doesn't know if this skill extends to other noises. He'll have to test that out.

"It's fine. As fun as a train heist sounds, it's too early in the morning for that. I am going to need several more hours of beauty sleep. You could use it, too, Blue," Rouge tells him, pushing away from the railing. She takes two half-steps back, amounting to a single step. Rouge lifts her hand in his direction. He stares at it for a long moment. He registers after a moment that she wants him to take it. Sonic hesitates. His attention slides away from Rouge to the distance. The train horn blares one more time, long and hollow and shrill. Sonic forces his eyes away as he takes Rouge's hand. She tugs on it, bringing him off the railing. He follows her back into the warm apartment. He pretends he doesn't notice the way Rouge locks the balcony doors and slides the curtains to cover the glass completely.

Despite saying she needed more sleep, Rouge doesn't return to her room. She sits on the edge of the couch with the remote in her hand. She nestles against the armrest. The television light illuminates her face in cold shades. She pats the space beside her. Sonic drops down without a verbal invitation. He grabs the blanket he was loaned a few hours ago. Rouge keeps her attention on switching the channels as she forcibly moves his body. He lets this happen mainly because he knows that it will regardless of how much he complains or argues. Rouge moves the blanket around him, and she sets his head against her shoulder. She moves a hand through his quills until they are smoothed. Like dominoes falling, Sonic's relaxed body eventually settles into a relaxed state of mind. Between the droning of the television and a steady heartbeat remarkably close, he can't hear the train anymore.

Unfortunately, sleep does not come to him. At least, not completely. He dozes off, half-aware of the world around him and half-lost in a station that smells like the ocean. He is never fully gone for the waking world, but his consciousness does wax and wane in the sensory input department. He feels like he's losing seconds rather than hours, which is what he usually feels like when he's napping. The process is borderline maddening, but Sonic doesn't have the heart to complain when this is the most sleep he's gotten in days. Life has taught him a few lessons, and one of them has been to always take what he can get.

Rouge falls asleep at some point or another because the remote is on the ground and the television is asking if someone is still watching. Sonic stares at the colors moving behind that question. He can hear voices chattering, but he has absolutely no idea what is happening on the television. He doesn't mind it so much, though, since he probably wouldn't be able to follow the plot, anyway, with his half-sleeping habit.

It's, for lack of a better word, nice.

—

Sonic stares at the living room ceiling. The couch cushions beneath him readily accept his weight, and he fears he's going to make some sort of impression on them that cannot be reversed. It's an unfounded worry since he has only been lying here for a night— less than 12 hours, probably. He's only been lying on his back for a few hours, too, so there isn't anything he could do that cannot be undone. Still, he continues to entertain the thought about the cushions molding around his body. It is a funny thought that keeps him amused for the duration of time he spends on the couch.

He isn't alone on the couch, though. Shadow sits at his feet. The ebony hedgehog is focused on the book in his hands, but his ears are constantly twitching at every noise in the apartment as if he is waiting for the one that does not belong. Sonic wonders how Shadow would know since Rouge is making a lot of noise in the kitchen area. Pots and pans are slamming into each other, and the interim are filled with alarms and ringtones from her phone. Any moment that could be claimed by silence is broken apart by her heels clicking on the tiles.

"Breakfast is ready!" Rouge calls out merrily. Sonic wonders where her excitement comes from. The early morning and lack of appreciation for her food should upset her, but she keeps a positive attitude even as the morning seems to be preluding a rainy day.

Shadow rises from the couch in one fluid motion. He sets his book on the lampstand beside the couch. He glances over at Sonic. The blue hedgehog gives him a smile and a thumbs up, but this does not satisfy Shadow. It merely paints an unamused expression on his face. Sonic giggles at him until Shadow grabs onto Sonic's hands, dragging the Hero of Mobius off the couch. Sonic has half a mind to sprawl out on the floor like a child throwing a tantrum, but he can't bring himself to drop from his feet once he's on them. He does, however, give Shadow a decidedly petulant expression that only momentarily amuses Shadow, most likely because he's inconveniencing Sonic.

Shadow moves to the kitchen. Rouge has already made her plate. She eats on the other side of the bar. She scrolls on her phone as she feeds herself. Shadow moves behind her to fix a small plate for himself. He has stated numerous times that he can subsist on only chaos energy, so Sonic isn't entirely sure why he makes himself eat. Does he like to do it? Does he want to eat what Rouge seemingly prepared for the both of them? Is it a habit he retained from his time wherever— the ARK or with Eggman? Sonic doesn't know. He could ask if he wanted to, but he finds his voice stolen whenever he wants to ask questions these days (what's the point of knowing, after all, when he isn't going to be here much longer?).

Sonic plops himself onto a barstool across from Rouge. She glances at him with a frown. "You can make a plate, dear. I assure you, Shadow isn't going to eat everything. If he somehow does, I give you full permission to fight him."

Shadow makes some noise of disagreement, but Sonic doesn't hear it over his laughter. When he finishes, he meets Rouge's eyes with a smile on his face. "Good to know I have your permission when I need it. Fortunately, Shadow can eat as much as he wants. I'm not hungry."

Rouge and Shadow don't hide the look they share with one another. Despite this, Sonic doesn't lose his smile or look away for politeness' sake. He can't say he doesn't fully understand them. He has been told several times by a multitude of people that he eats a lot. It isn't his fault since he's constantly running around at top speeds. He burns through so much energy, and he has to get it back somehow. Sonic just hasn't been hungry in a while. He'll force himself to eat here and there out of habit (or because some part of him knows he should be hungry), and all he manages to do is make himself sick. He did just that yesterday, and he had enough pride to be embarrassed about Rouge and Shadow listening to that. They were good-natured about it, at least— only a few snide remarks from Shadow here and there.

Sonic has been here for two nights and one day. This is his second day here. He has only eaten once. Anyone who knows Sonic intimately would be afraid he was at death's door at this point, and even those with a passing acquaintanceship with him are aware that it's unnatural for Sonic to refuse food. He always accepts snacks, and he accepts payment for his heroics in meals. To deny the chance to be fed? Sonic, even in all his wobbly thoughts, knows something is fundamentally wrong with him.

Unfortunately, Sonic really doesn't like being sick, so he isn't even going to try to eat.

"I'm going to head back home today," Sonic says once he realizes that no one is talking. Rouge is still on her phone, and Shadow seems to be thinking about something. Sonic's words, however, effectively draw them both from their mindless eating.

"What?" Rouge asks dumbly, a frown pulling on her lips.

"I'm going to head back home today," Sonic repeats without explaining further. He doesn't want to tell them that he feels like he's using their kindness. It would be too strange, especially if one of them were to bring up the point that Sonic stays on his friends' couches all the time. At least, he used to, but that was before the Starfall Islands. There are a lot of habits that didn't survive those islands like he did. Sonic isn't in the right mindset to document each one.

Sonic knows Rouge and Shadow are friends because of the way they communicate without words. Sonic is the same way with his closest friends, especially Tails. At the beginning of their relationship, Sonic didn't talk at all, but Tails somehow knew what his new best friend was trying to get across. Sonic later figured out how to communicate verbally, but it never felt like Tails' intuitive comprehension of him suffered for it. Sonic, too, knew what his buddy couldn't bring himself to say but wanted Sonic to understand.

Sonic thinks it's interesting to see this same process enacted by two other people. It's less interesting when he realizes that he's the subject for their silent conversation. Sonic snorts to himself. "Come on, you guys know I don't stay anywhere for long. I mean... I can leave, right?"

Shadow's expression immediately means that Sonic cannot, but kidnapping is not one of Rouge's usual crimes (though, she isn't above it). She sets her phone and fork down. She walks around the bar to stand behind Sonic's barstool. He spins around to see her face. Rouge smiles at him. "You can leave whenever you want, Blue. It was a pleasure to have you stay here. Come by any time, alright, hun?"

"Thank you," Sonic tells her with a wide smile. He decides to put this apartment on the list of places he will crash on the couch of... when he gets back into the habit of doing that. It will be after Tails, Amy, and Knuckles return, though. Unless he's already gone on his trip by that point.

As if hearing his thoughts, Rouge adds on, "Don't get on the train. At least, come tell us before you get on. We would hate to miss our chance to say goodbye."

"Of course! I'll make sure you don't have to track me down at the station," Sonic answers firmly with enough confidence that Rouge's expression softens. Shadow looks away. Sonic glances between them both. On the edge of the countertop, he sees a stack of folders. Sonic originally assumed they were from GUN, but the symbol on it is from the Chaotix Detective Agency. Sonic's train ticket is inside one of those folders. Shadow put it there, and neither him nor Rouge will let Sonic retrieve it. On top of saying goodbye, he'll have to come back for it when he wants to head off on his trip. That, or he gets a new ticket. Though, Shadow does owe him a new ticket since he made Sonic miss the last train.

"Well, I'll head off now. No point in lingering. Thanks for letting me stay. These past two days have been nice!" Sonic hops off the barstool. He gives them both a signature smile with a wink and a wave. He doesn't get to see their reactions as he speeds away, using the chaos energy inside of him since there hasn't been anything in his stomach for a little while.

—

Sonic knows distantly that he should be going home right now. At least, he should be going to the house that he's been staying at off and on again for a few years now. It is Tails' home more than anything, but Sonic doesn't frequently get into the specifics of the arrangement. At least, he didn't when Tails could usually be found in the house, either his room or his workshop or the kitchen or living room or really anywhere. It was Tails' space as much as it was Sonic's space, and Tails could go anywhere he wanted. He did that, too, but now he isn't there. Instead, silence has permeated the space that belongs to Tails— belongs to both of them. Sonic pretends he's fine with it, but he's really not. He can't stand the silence, and he knows it will be the only thing he finds in that house. He knows because he's been stuck living with it for weeks now. Months, technically, now that he's thinking about it, because time doesn't really exist in the silence. It stretches on too long, yet Sonic always underestimates how much of it has actually passed.

The horn has been filling the silence. Sonic has been listening to it. At the beginning, it helped him sleep. These days, it keeps him awake. It isn't any better for him than the silence is. Sonic prefers the horn over the silence, but he would rather not hear either one. In the city streets, Sonic hears half a million different sounds. Some are close to the train horn or the silence, but there are differences. It is these differences that not only keep Sonic from losing his mind but keep him moving. That, ironically, also keeps him going slow as he walks through the streets instead of blitzing through. As if motion is a process that requires thought for him, he puts one foot in front of the other.

Considering everything, Sonic continues walking through the streets with the fuzzy feeling that he has a destination he never wants to reach. Part of him, he thinks, is looking for that station, but it's only a small part. Every other part is reminding him of his promise to Rouge and his lack of a ticket. He also thinks he needs to postpone a few things regarding the party. He had a strict schedule. Now that it's broken, he has to change everything. The party was meant to be two weeks after Sonic's departure to ensure that everyone had time to adjust to his absence. Sonic thought he was being reasonable. He still thinks that was reasonable, which is probably why he should get everything moved back by a few days. Unless, maybe a little less than two weeks is also good enough. It's only been two days since his planned departure, after all. The others could adjust quickly in that time. At least enough to attend the party.

Sonic's mind disconnects from his body as he turns into an alleyway. He doesn't mind too much. The alleyway is fairly wide, and it isn't that much dirtier than the streets are due to them being outside. Sonic has been cutting through alleyways and side streets throughout the day as morning bleeds into the late afternoon without his eyes picking up on the shifting hues of the sky.

Sonic's thoughts fall to a standstill as he hears someone yell at him. He knows he heard what they said, but his mind pushes the specifics to the wayside as his eyes register the appearance of the person. A Mobian stands at the entrance of the alleyway with an angry expression on their face. They march through the alleyway, footfalls causing the puddles beneath their boots to splash. Sonic squints as he tries looking at them. It takes him a minute to figure out what they are wearing. This leads him to realize who they are. This is a conductor for a train. Based on the way they look at Sonic, they must be the conductor to the train he's been trying to get on for weeks now.

Sonic opens his mouth to explain himself when he feels dull pain spread across the side of his face. He shuffles to the side out of surprise. His emerald eyes widen as they look back at the conductor. They are heaving with a fist prepared to strike Sonic once more. He lifts his hands to placate their anger, but they are far too livid to listen to reason. They, instead, hit Sonic a second time and throw in a kick to his shin for good measure. Sonic feels the pain, but compared to everything he's felt in his life, this is practically nothing. Still, Sonic lands on the ground as he realizes how much the conductor wants to hurt him. Sonic doesn't know if it's patronizing or not to pretend he's getting hurt, but he doesn't want to make them feel bad when their chest is heaving with exertion and Sonic can barely feel the bruises blooming across his skin.

Tears fill the conductor's eyes as they grab onto the fur on his chest. They squeeze it between their gloved paws. The tears slide down their face. Sonic stares wordlessly. The conductor lifts their gaze to Sonic, "Why are you still here? Why can't you just leave?"

Sonic opens his mouth to explain that he wanted to get on the train but other people told him not to. He just makes a surprised noise as the conductor pulls at his fur and then shoves him harshly into the brick wall. They do this a few more times, trying to transform the sorrow on their face to anger. "You saw that paper on your door, didn't you?! Why didn't you do anything about it? You didn't report me. You didn't— What the fuck are you doing?"

The conductor releases Sonic's fur. They rise unsteadily onto their feet. They kick him a few more times for good measure. When they are satisfied with what they've caused and not with what they've heard (for Sonic has been given no chance to speak), they seemingly deflate on themselves. They say something else, quiet and hard and filled with so much emotion that Sonic regrets being unable to comprehend it. Or maybe he does know exactly what they said. It was something along the lines of 'get on the train,' but Sonic somehow knows that wasn't it. It was similar enough that Sonic's mind must have construed it that way, though.

Sonic is left alone in the alleyway. He leans against the back wall. His body aches in minor, negligible ways. There are a few areas he may need to ice later, but it isn't anything he won't bounce back from. He's fought harrowing villains with much worse injuries plaguing him, after all. Despite this, Sonic just sits on the ground. He knows it's dirty. He can feel muddy water soaking into part of his fur. His gloves probably look like he's dragged them through a storm, too. He should get up. He should continue walking around. He should chase after the conductor to either explain himself or demand answers for why his head is so jumbled up. He should make them say their last words one more time so his brain finally realizes what he's being told.

He should, he should, he should, and yet—

And yet he does nothing. He is inactive, not exactly resting. It is very strange for him. It does not help his thoughts in the slightest as they move through his head with a speed and intensity that makes him nauseous. He refuses to puke, however, so he just folds his dirty gloves over his stomach. He shuts his eyes to lessen the amount of sensory details flooding him. This might have the opposite effect as his ears twitch with more sounds than he heard a moment before. No train horns or silence, thankfully, only Mobians calling out to each other or animals screeching or water pittering on the ground or tires squealing. The noises that define a city as an inhabited location.

"Mr. Sonic?" A voice much closer than the other noises. More personal, too. Sonic's eyes flutter open as he recognizes the voice trying to grab his attention. He tilts his head to the side to see Cream standing at the entrance of the alleyway. She is holding Vanilla's hand, and Cream has stopped her mother by digging her heels into the concrete sidewalk. Cream pulls at Vanilla's hand. When the rabbit woman looks around the alleyway skeptically, Cream releases her mother's hand. Vanilla makes a noise as she reaches for Cream. She misses, and Cream is bounding down the alleyway to look at the blue figure she knows to be her friend. Cream wears a troubled frown even as her eyes light up with recognition. She turns on her heel, cupping her paws around her mouth. "Mommy! Mommy! Come look! It really is Mr. Sonic!"

Regardless of if she believes Cream or not, Vanilla has to enter the alleyway to grab her daughter. She does, however, learn that her daughter was right when she sees Sonic sitting on the ground. Cream grabs her mother's hand to pull her closer. Vanilla lets herself be led as she looks into Sonic's eyes. Sonic stares right back at her with a half-smile. He doesn't lift his hand from his lap as he moves it in the motion of a wave. Vanilla's eyes flicker between Sonic and Cream. While Cream has enough sense to be a little concerned, Vanilla is downright upset by what she's looking at. Sonic can't say he's surprised. He must be dirty and bruised right now, not even counting how sleepy and hungry he must also look.

"Sonic, dear, are you—" Vanilla starts. She stops herself with a glance at her daughter. Vanilla swallows thickly. She reaches her hands out to touch Sonic's shoulders. She helps him onto his feet with a smile on her face. Sonic can tell that it's forced, but he also thinks it's good enough that Cream won't notice. Sonic suspects he can tell only because he knows the smile well; he wore it a lot around Tails. "Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?"

"Really?" Cream asks. Her eyes widen with joy as she looks at her mother's face. Vanilla doesn't look away from Sonic even as she nods. Cream is entirely unbothered by this. She reaches forward to grab Sonic's hand with both of her own. She squeezes and starts tugging Sonic with her. "Oh, please, Mr. Sonic! Please, please, please, please, please—"

"Sure," Sonic says, cutting Cream off when he realizes that Vanilla won't. Vanilla only wears a kind smile. Cream audibly cheers, leaping into the air. Her wings swing around for a moment to keep her airborne, but she lands right back on her feet after a few seconds. Cream grabs his hand and her mother's hand. Cream leads them forward, babbling about random subjects. Sonic listens to her, pretending he doesn't notice Vanilla staring at him with blatant concern.

—

Sonic lies on a dozen pillows. He stares at the sheet forming a ceiling for the pillow fort. The nightlights hanging from the actual ceiling shine through the thin sheet, creating fuzzy shapes that resemble clouds made from light on the light blue material. Sonic lifts his paw to the sheet. His fingertips brush against the material. He draws his paw away quickly to make sure he doesn't knock the entire fort down. Cream spent so long on it that Sonic would hate to do that to her.

"Mommy said she'll join when she gets finished with the dishes," Cream informs Sonic as she enters her bedroom. Sonic tears his eyes away from the lights. Cream stops by her doorside. She stands on the tips of her toes to turn the light switch off. The room descends in partial darkness. Cream pushes off the wall. She races through the shadows to reach the pillow fort. She throws herself against the pillows, flopping onto her stomach. She makes a quiet noise, but she doesn't look to be in pain as she crawls toward the pillows where Sonic is lying. She grabs onto the comforter and a stuffed animal as she settles into the space where she'll be sleeping for the night.

"I would have done the dishes," Sonic murmurs. He doesn't like doing the dishes, of course. He hates water, and he isn't the biggest fan of cleaning. Still, he ate Vanilla's cooking at her dinner table, and now he's staying the night at her house. Sure, he's only staying here because saying no to Cream is as difficult as saying no to Tails is, but Sonic is still abusing the woman's kindness. He should do more to justify his staying here for a night.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sonic. Mommy likes doing the dishes when she has that funny look on her face," Cream tells him, her voice growing quiet like it correlates with the dimness of the room. Cream reaches a paw out to poke the space between Sonic's eyes. His focus centralizes on her. "She kinda looks like that."

Sonic's lips twitch with a smile. He, unfortunately, has some idea what Cream is talking about. Sonic knows a few people who clean when they're stressed. He isn't one of those people, though he's starting to get the appeal. Before his set departure, Sonic was cleaning the entire house to make things easier on Tails. Sonic won't say he's joined the ranks of people who like doing it, but he does think having something to do with his hands is comforting when his thoughts are being pulled into a million different directions. Cleaning also takes less focus than reading does, so Sonic might try it out again when his feelings spiral out of his control.

"Mr. Sonic?" Cream asks. Sonic hums in response. Cream doesn't wait for a further response as she asks, "Are you still going on your trip?"

Sonic's lips pull down into a frown. His eyes clear as he looks at Cream. The edges of her features are blurred by the low lighting, but Sonic can tell that she's saddened right now. "How do you know about that, kiddo?"

"Mommy and Mr. Vector said you were going on a trip," Cream explains. Her body shimmies as she gets comfortable in her position in the pillow fort. "You can't go on the trip."

"Why not?" Sonic asks. He immediately regrets asking. He was only trying to give Cream the opportunity to keep talking, but he realizes once the words leave his lips that they are coated in emotions too heavy for a child to hear. Sonic looks away from Cream. He puts a hand over the side of his face. He needs to get his act together. Cream doesn't know anything. She's only repeating what she's heard. Sonic needs to remember that, and he needs to make sure that his voice and words reflect this understanding.

"You still haven't gone on an adventure with me!" Cream petulantly says. She crosses her arms over her chest, though her anger loses some of the effect when her stuffed animal is caught up in this action. It looks like she's hugging it close rather than trying to look at Sonic sternly. "Mommy didn't tell me, but I know your trip is going to take a long time. You promised to take me on an adventure."

"I did promise that, didn't I?" Sonic whispers. He had forgotten about that. The memories come back to him in pieces. Cream wore a similar expression that day, too, before he promised her that they would go on an adventure together. He wanted her to get a little older, just enough that he wouldn't feel so guilty dragging her into what would most likely become mortal danger. When the nights are cold and long, Sonic feels guilt for bringing Tails into this life when he was so young. It isn't all the time, of course, and Sonic really is proud of Tails. It's just when the kit climbs into Sonic's bed after a dreadful nightmare that Sonic gets the feeling that for all of their lives, he's just been tying a noose around Tails' neck.

"You did!" Cream nods firmly. If Sonic wasn't remembering his promise, he would have thought she was lying with how adamantly she's trying to convince him. "You can't go on your trip unless you take me with you."

"I can't do that," Sonic immediately says with a panic in his voice that startles them both. Sonic swallows. He tries wearing a calm expression, and his voice somehow follows suit. "This trip isn't like my other ones. It isn't really an adventure. It's more like... There's a train that I have to get on. It's been following me around. I want to get on it, but my friends and your mommy don't want me to. They really wouldn't like you getting on the train."

"A train? I saw one of those in my book! But they don't follow people, silly. They follow the tracks," Cream explains to him with a giggle. Sonic chuckles alongside her. Her words, however, scratch against his mind like sandpaper. Why did he think a train was following him? Cream's right; they don't follow people. "What does your train look like, Mr. Sonic?"

Sonic shakes his head. He pulls himself away from his thoughts to look at Cream. He takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes, trying to picture the train in his mind's eye. "Well... It looks like a normal train. The top is black... or, a dark blue, actually... Maybe even purple. Dozens of tiny, white lights cover the top. The bottom is definitely black, but there are sometimes flashes of white. The stairs are dark brown. Hard. With tiny flecks of green popping up from it."

When Sonic opens his eyes, Cream is frowning at him. "The train in my book doesn't look like that."

Sonic shrugs. "It's a special train. Probably why it follows me around."

"Not fair. I want a magic train to follow me, too," Cream huffs, burying her face into the head of her stuffed animal.

Sonic chuckles. "No... You don't. It isn't that fun."

Cream looks at him with a complicated expression. Eventually, she sighs. "If you say so, Mr. Sonic. But you can't get on your train until you take me on an adventure! You promised, remember?"

"I did promise," Sonic confirms. He thought he'd taken care of all the business he needed to before leaving, but it seems he has one last obligation to fulfill before he can get on. "I'll take you on that adventure soon. But no more of this mister business. I'm Sonic to you, little missy."

Cream giggles. She shoots forward like a viper instead of a bunny. Her arms wrap around his chest, leaving her stuffed animal between them. She moves her face to the space underneath his chin. This is Tails' personal favorite spot, so Sonic's body moves of its own accord to hold onto Cream. She sinks into his embrace with a pleased sound. "Thank you, m— Sonic." She yawns. "I'm going to sleep. Tell Mommy I love her and goodnight when she comes back. Oh, and goodnight to you, too, Sonic!"

Sonic hums in response. Absentmindedly, he moves his hand over the fur on the back of Cream's head, another habit Tails instilled in him. Sonic's lips pull down with a frown. He's been thinking about his brother too much lately. Tails is fine right now. He's having his own adventures independent of Sonic. He's learning about the world and gaining confidence in himself. If Sonic truly did tie a noose around his neck, Tails is shedding that rope right now. Sonic doesn't need to think about him so much.

"Oh," A voice calls out. Sonic turns his attention toward the doorway. Vanilla covers her mouth with one paw. A first-aid kit rests underneath her other arm. She smiles warmly at Sonic and Cream as she pulls her hand away. Sonic looks down at Cream. She fell asleep at some point while Sonic was thinking about his younger brother. Sonic tries not to feel melancholic as he forces his eyes to return to Vanilla. She is gesturing for him to follow her. Sonic glances at the first-aid kit. He doesn't need it, but he also doesn't want to argue with her right now with the room so dim and Cream asleep.

Sonic slips out of her grasp with the same ease he slips out of Tails' grasp. Fortunately, Cream doesn't hold on nearly as tight as that little kit does (not so little anymore, is he, Sonic?). Sonic rises from the pillow fort. Vanilla takes him back to the living room. It is mostly clean and homely. There are a few toys left on the ground. Vanilla hurriedly puts them away in a box beside the couch. She sinks into the cushion. She pats the space right beside her. Sonic, instead, sits on the edge of the coffee table. Vanilla doesn't make any sort of face about it. She instead looks into his eyes. She speaks quietly as if Cream is still in the room with them, "May I touch you? I promise that I will only look at your bruises."

Sonic could argue. He probably should since these bruises are nothing. Most will be healed by the morning even if Sonic doesn't do anything. Sonic knows this fact more than most, so he doesn't understand why he puts his arm in Vanilla's awaiting grasp. He hates the way she worries about him constantly, yet he actively sits here while she gives him that look that he wishes he could just call pity and be done with it. But it's not pity. It's certainly similar, but there's more empathy there. It isn't understanding, but there's a desperation for it there. Sonic doesn't know what he's doing with his life to earn that kind of look from Vanilla but no one else.

Would it be better if Vanilla didn't look at him like that, or if she wasn't the only one?

For the first time that day, Sonic hears it. He jerks with surprise. His eyes land on the window behind the other couch to his and Vanilla's side. The blinds are shut and the curtains are closed, but Sonic really feels like he can see the train pulling into a nearby station. He doesn't know how he'll find it when Vanilla has all the drawers locked, but he'll figure it out. If he wants to, at least, but he feels uneasy as he listens to the horn blasting through the residential area.

"What do you hear?" Vanilla asks somberly. She raises her eyes from the wrist she's bandaging to his face. She looks at him with a more extreme version of her usual look, but she also looks softer. She doesn't want to stop him; she wants to understand him.

"A train horn," Sonic answers. It takes considerable effort, but he pulls his eyes away from the closed window to look at her face. If he's going to talk to her, he should meet her eyes. "The train is back."

"You've heard this train for a few weeks now, yes?"

"Yeah.... I, um... There was a paper on my door. I had just been at the store. I kept letting food go bad because I kept forgetting to eat without Tails or Amy to remind me. I was a little upset about wasting so much food when I saw it. The ticket... I wanted to ignore it, but... It started raining later. I panicked. I brought it inside. I thought that since I did that, I might as well do what the paper told me to do," Sonic explains. It's so hard to put it into words. Sonic feels like there are two recollections fighting for dominance in his mind. One set of memories is fake, and the other one is real. Sonic wishes he knew which was which, but maybe talking about it will help him. It can't do any more damage to him than puking everything he eats and listening to horns instead of sleeping and thinking until he has a headache does.

"What did the ticket tell you to do?" Vanilla's words are patient and slow. She continues wrapping his arm from the bruise he sustained earlier.

"It told me to—" Sonic cuts himself off. It told him to do what the conductor told him to do earlier. Why can't Sonic say it aloud?

"Shh... It's okay. I understand it's a little difficult for you to say. Do you want to talk about something else?" Vanilla whispers, lifting a hand to touch the side of his face. She is smiling at him. Sonic opens his mouth. Instead of words, an odd noise comes out. Sonic slaps his hands over his mouth. Vanilla's eyes widen with surprise, but she quickly bounces back. Her face melts with concern as she leans forward. She opens her arms for him, and that is all it takes for him to pitch forward. More of those odd noises come out. Sonic barely recognizes them because he doesn't know the last time he's cried. He thinks he forced himself to stop doing that when he suddenly had someone looking up to him for reassurance and guidance. Tears do not provide that. The Hero of Mobius cannot cry, so Sonic doesn't, either.

He is now, but he doesn't feel much like the Hero of Mobius right now. He feels like a little kid grappling with things larger than himself. Little kids can't do much in such a big, scary world, but they can cry. They can sob and sob. Usually, it gets them nowhere, but Sonic is starting to feel better as his sobs softly transform into wet breaths and little whimpers.

Vanilla holds him through it all. He isn't a huge fan of touch, but once he pushes past his aversion and the burning sensation against his quills, Sonic sinks completely into her arms. He never knew his mother, so he doesn't have any experience with this, but he really thinks this is a nice experience. Maybe this is why Tails always liked to curl up with him after a nightmare. It's better than Sonic thought it would be. Not enough to convince him to touch people more often, but he'll think twice before denying Tails or Vanilla a hug from this point forward.

When Sonic finishes crying, he opens his eyes. He remains in Vanilla's arms as he pulls back slightly. He is extremely glad there aren't any mirrors in the living room because he must look like a mess. It's hard to tell when Vanilla looks at him with such a soft expression. It is the kindness in her eyes that draws a confession from Sonic's lips. "I don't think I want to get on the train."

Vanilla's eyes widen. Her lips part soundlessly. She says nothing, but she does smile at him. She moves her hands to cup his face. She nods at him. Sonic's arms fall to his sides, and he sinks to the floor with a sudden weakness. It stretches throughout his body. He feels so tired. His mind doesn't want to think. His heart doesn't want to feel. And his body doesn't want to be awake. The horn has disappeared, and Sonic thinks he's actually going to sleep tonight. Especially when Vanilla takes him back to the pillow fort after she's finished bandaging him. Sonic settles on one side of Cream, and Vanilla settles on the other, and for the first time in weeks, Sonic actually sleeps.

—

Sonic arches a brow as he pushes open the ajar front door to his house. Before he can think of what to do against the home invaders, he sees the 'invaders' moving around his living room and dining room area. Charmy is standing at Sonic's calendar hanging on the wall. Espio is sitting on the edge of the couch, flipping through some files. Vector freezes near the mud room, halting his motion from the dining room to somewhere in the living room or even the hallway beyond it. All three members of Team Chaotix stop what they are doing to look at him. Sonic puts a hand on his hip. The three individuals share a look with one another. Vector coughs into his fist. "You did give us a key."

Sonic has no argument against that. He gave them a key to return to Tails, but he supposes he never said they couldn't enter his home. Sonic, personally, doesn't care, but he will be upset if they touched anything that belongs to Tails. He is a little upset about his perfectly clean house being messed up, but looking around, it seems like the house is still clean. Other than the files on the table Espio is looking through, they haven't done anything.

"Since you're here, come over here," Vector tells him. He waves Sonic over to the living room. Vector nudges Espio's shoulder until the chameleon sighs and walks away with the files. He also takes the letters Sonic left for his friends. The letters meant for the detectives have been opened. Sonic can't be too upset since he didn't tell them they couldn't read something so clearly marked for them.

Espio joins Charmy near the calendar. They start discussing the letters and whatever is inside Espio's files while Vector flops down on the couch. Sonic sits on the footrest in front of the plush chair. Vector turns to him. Sonic frowns. "Is this an interrogation?"

"I prefer 'interview,' but call it whatever you want. I'm just going to ask some questions. I need you to respond as honestly as possible," Vector tells him. "Let's get the facts straight first: you came to the Chaotix Detective Agency to ask us to deliver a key to Tails when he returns from his adventures because you were going on a long trip. You overpaid us but insisted that you didn't need the money. You also said that you were going on a train which is suspicious because there aren't any trains nearby. Also, you going on a train? Definitely suspicious. A master detective such as myself felt that this situation was... off, so we did some light investigation. Nothing illegal, mind you. Ever since that one lady, we've made sure to do everything by the book."

Sonic doesn't know who the lady is, but he appreciates the detectives not resorting to criminal behavior. While he is less appreciative of their investigations into him, he also isn't upset by it. Neutral, really, though that's probably only because he's been a 'hero' for a long time now. He's seen so many articles about himself that people prying into his past and habits isn't anything new.

"The local grocer said you've been frazzled for months now, but it really got bad roughly two months ago. From that point onward, your behavior was deemed unusual by the people you've encountered. The grocer says you're buying less and less food. The owner of the flower shop listed all of the flowers you bought from them and just how much you've bought. Town hall was talking about a plot of land you bought in the cemetery. He couldn't legally tell us anything, but there is someone anonymous who told us that a blue hedgehog may or may not be in the market for a stone that may or may not be related to graves. You've returned all your library books. Several people we talked to on the street mentioned that you completed any favors they were owed. All of that including the nature of the letters left on the desk made us detectives draw a few inferences. Since most of them were serious, we decided to tell Shadow specifically. This was mostly in case you were planning on murdering someone else since we couldn't stop you, but, um... Well, we all know what happened there."

Vector stops talking suddenly. He looks down at the ground. Espio and Charmy's conversation falls into silence as they share a look with one another, trying not to look at Vector and Sonic. The blue hedgehog stares at the crocodile apathetically. "I'm not hearing any questions."

Vector makes a noise that sounds like it wants to be a laugh, but he doesn't actually find anything funny. "You want a question, then... What's going on in your head?"

Sonic also makes a similar noise. "I have no idea. I'm just... confused, I think. I had a ticket. I keep hearing a horn. I see a train every time. I thought I was planning a trip and a party. I didn't think I was..."

I didn't think it was a note telling me to kill myself. I didn't think the horn and train were leading me to my death. I didn't think I was planning my own suicide and funeral.

Sonic wants to say that, but he doesn't. He is, however, proud that he can, in some way, acknowledge it.

"That's..." Vector starts. He doesn't finish that thought. He changes the subject. "We're trying to figure out who gave you that ticket— er, note in the first place. There might be something involved with them that caused all of this to happen. That, or..."

"My mind's fucked."

"That's one way to put it," Vector agrees.

"We will track down the jerk who did this!" Charmy calls out, floating over to Vector's shoulder.

Espio steps to Vector's other shoulder. "We will get you the help you need."

"Thanks, guys. I'm really glad to have friends like you."