Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Michael got the security ping.

He’d been minding his own business. Doing his job. No one had bugged him yet, thankfully, and a sweep of the entrance to FazerBlast was somehow dull despite the flashing lights and excited laughter of children that forever permeated the Pizzaplex. He figured he’d grown used to it. Neither the buzzling crowds of the day or the empty silence at night phased him much anymore, not since he spent so much time in the premises, waiting for a worst that he prayed would never come. It was getting boring and repetitive. Perhaps he’d take Yumi up on that offer of ice cream downtown.

But that was besides the point. He wasn’t dully pacing around anymore. As boring as that was, he much would have rathered it had stayed boring, because half-way to the elevator he got a security ping, Code Red. A Staff Bot had apprehended a hostile guest. Which, brilliant. Another Karen, surely. It was by the Customer Convenience Counter, and more often than not, he got radioed over there because some snotty guest was throwing a fit over expired coupons or non-stackable promotions. Things often got… more heated than he would like to believe it could get over some bloody coupons, but what could he do?

Except that a moderately fast, resigned pace developed into a full sprint when GlichtTrap started screaming over the radio, basically begging someone, anyone to come:

“ Code Black! ” There was no mirth there. Just a shocked stupor. “Downed animatronic. And I mean downed. ”

Michael started sprinting. For a second there was a spark of horror, at the prospect that it could be anyone of the Glamrocks, Freddy, Foxy, Bonnie, Cosmo, anyone , so that by the time that GlitchTrap clarified it was a Staff Bot, Michael was already down the length of the atrium and diving into the elevator leading to the Lobby, noting somewhere that the downed Staff Bot was apparently the same one that had apprehended the guest only seconds prior to the alert.

“ Nett’s on the scene. ” GlitchTrap clarified. Michael fumbled for his radio, to ask if they even wanted him to show up at all, when a high-pitched crackle of static spilled out.

“Nett!” Barely indistinguishable through the interference. Michael’s blood would have run cold if he had had any.

“Code Dash! Requesting back up! Urgently!” Horror. Michael was pushing through the guests around him and bursting out into the Lobby as soon as the doors had parted enough to let him through. “The guest atte– Nett look out!” More static. Michael dashed down the stairs so fast he almost tripped. “Code Red. Guest is unarmed but highly volatile. MICHAEL GET YOUR BRITISH BUTT DOWN HERE.”

“ Can’t help. ” Moon’s voice crackled through the speakers. It was a frustrated, worried sound. “ Got a situation here. Sunny’s fronting. Will go as soon as we’ve got this cleared up. ”

Code Dash, Code Black, Code Red. A horrible mix of codes that Michael never realized could get jumbled together, but in hindsight, he should have. He pushed past the turnstiles at the front of the Lobby, looking up in time to see Nett retreat in a hurry over the heads of a gathering crowd, just barely clearing the tallest of the guests as his wire pulled him up and towards the ceiling.

He appeared fine, thank God, but that didn’t stop Michael from shoving his way through the crowd, muttering “Security” under his breath as he shoved past, as if that would make them all clear out faster.

Nett was on the scene again, tossing out his free palm. Michael had barely even cleared the crowd when a net went sailing, and he looked up just as whoever was caught shrieked , a sound more appropriate for someone being struck than a misbehaving guest tangled up in a net.

And Michael froze.

It was, as bluntly as he could put it, a massacre. There was what must’ve been a Staff bot on the floor. It had to have been, but it wasn’t anymore . A mess of oil and shredded plastic casing and sawed metal supports and sparkling wires was a better descriptor. A mangle that looked as if someone had taken a saw to it with the vigor of only true insanity. Michael felt as if his stomach had dropped, had he had one. A distinct wave of nausea, a want to be sick, washed over him, and it was harder than it should’ve been to convince himself he wasn’t looking at a murder scene. His eyes finally slipped off the shredded remains, and he looked towards the culprit, eyes landing on the net just in time to see it ripped to bits.

“Stay away. ” The customer–a mobian, surprisingly. They didn’t get many mobians around here–hissed. Their teeth barred, ears angled back, they glared at Nett, who halted his descent once again, no doubt trying to calculate how to best handle the situation. There was… a fury in their eyes, the likes of which Michael typically associated with unreasonable customers that could only see the world their way. It was only the fear that, somehow , this tiny, foreign customer had somehow shredded a Staff bot that kept him from rolling his eyes and letting out a sigh as he started forwards.

“Hey!”

Green eyes snapped to him. For a second, the full might of that fury was directed at him, a glare capable of slaying even God and tearing down the heavens. Michael’s steps faltered– perhaps it was only because he was already dead that he didn’t drop under the intensity. And yet, some part of him in that moment was present enough to recognize that fury… was unfamiliar. Or not. It was unfamiliar anywhere else but the mirror, a hostile anger fueled entirely by horror and instincts and–

But all at once the guest blinked. The glare fell away. There was a flash of shock and then those green eyes snapped to the mangled Staff bot and they took a step back, hands gravitating closer to their chest, mouth agape as if for the first time realizing where they were.

Michael found it in himself to speak. “You have–”

“Ah shoot, that’s my fault, isn’t it?” They laughed. The shock was gone and they turned to Michael, scratching at the back of their head sheepishly. Embarrassed. Hostility gone. What? “So sorry, I– It startled me. Chaos.”

“It–”

Nett landed beside Michael, but he barely even noticed. In his stupor, all he could find himself to do was stare, at the mangle of the robot, and at the blue mobian, who’d been burning with hostility only seconds prior.

“You have damaged Fazbear Entertainment property.” Nett announced. Michael recognized the tone as one of a pre-recorded message. If how lost Nett looked was any hint, the sudden compliance and apologies were just as unexpected, and what protocol demanded was the only way he could think to reply. “Please do not resist. You will wait for police to arrive and will be escorted off the premises. Legal charges shall–”

“N-no, wait!” They reached into the… spines? On the back of their head, fumbling with what looked like a red wallet. They looked up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I– I’ll pay. I’ll pay for the bot, I’m sorry. Just–” They were more muttering now. Ears down in a way Michael could only compare to a kicked puppy, they were counting the bills out in the wallet, brow furrowed. “It startled me. It startled me. I didn’t mean it, I–”

“It startled you?” It sounded ridiculous. It sounded like an excuse, the kinds of which Michael had heard time and time over. A cover for some initial, entitled wrong. And yet, the mobian sounded so flustered. Michael couldn’t bring himself to be angry. Just… confused? 

“Yeah.” They explained. Their eyes drifted over the crowd still staring. A lot of people had dispersed. There were still some others hovering about. “I was just… in line. I just wanted to book a party. And then it grabbed me out of nowhere and I– I probably could have reacted better, but it caught me off guard.”

“You must’ve been doing something.” Michael finally managed. Security bots didn’t just go grabbing people willy-nilly. They relied on scans of both body language and expressions to recognize when a guest was presenting a threat. More often than not they missed threats because of that. That a security bot had just nabbed a guest for no apparent reason… it dug an uneasy pit in Michael’s already hollow chest.

He fumbled for his radio. “GlitchTrap–”

“Uh, there was no physical altercations, if that’s what you’re gonna ask. He must’ve said something.” The rabbit cut in. Still watching the scene like a hawk, apparently. 

“I was just asking about some coupons!” The mobian defended. They seemed to pull out the mentioned pieces of paper from nowhere, and showed them to Michael and Nett. Three slips of crumpled cutouts from newspapers or printed from somewhere. They gestured at one of them, which looked particularly worn and sported a picture of the band in addition to Foxy, announcing a discount on a party with any of the non-GlamRock animatronics. “This one has expired. I didn’t know. But I didn’t put up a fuzz! I just asked if there was any other discount.” After a moment, he chuckled nervously, looking down at the floor. “And maybe I got a bit frustrated? Because without the discount I wasn’t sure I could pay with the money on me?” Green eyes snapped back up to Michael and Nett. “But I swear I wasn’t threatening anyone. I don’t know what I did.”

Michael wasn’t sure what to do. He’d come here ready to drag out a guest kicking and screaming and spouting out all sorts of foul insults as they resisted. He wasn’t ready for genuine begging and confusion, desperation of the guilty kind.

Clearly, Nett was just as blindsided by the situation. “GlitchTrap, can you alert Mr. Watkins?”

“Uh, sure.” And surely the rabbit was making quick work of alerting the poor man. Which was all fine, because for once, Michael wasn’t sure what was the best way to go about this. Surprisingly, being met with no resistance… made dealing with an unruly guest harder. And here he’d been thinking it would be a dream if everyone just cooperated.

“If it helps…”

They turned around. The crowd had mostly cleared by now, just those who had been in line for the Customer Convenience Counter lingering nearby. The speaker was a dad, holding his little boy’s hand as he stared at them all with big, wide, thankfully not teary eyes. He spoke up once he noticed them looking. “I was behind him in the line. He really wasn’t doing anything wrong. Nothing more than any regular guest would be doing. I thought perhaps the Security Bot was just patrolling when suddenly it grabbed his arm for no reason, and rather roughly.”

“Thank you, that–” Michael hummed. Then, his eyes drifted to Nett, and he looked back at the man. “Actually, sir, would you mind being a witness? Just in case legal action is taken.”

“I’m not planning to sue! Or dispute anything!” The mobian called. He sounded offended, almost. “I already said I’d pay!” 

But still, a witness would be useful, Michael supposed. Because if robots really were going rouge and grabbing guests for no reason then… then, well, he wished it was an isolated incident. He really did. But what if it wasn’t? What if it happened again? It was best to be prepared from now. Whether they had to take legal action or… some other kind of action, it didn’t really matter. So Nett got the man’s guest profile marked, and after he was handed a coupon for one free Fizzy Faz, he went on his way. 

They figured they should stop obstructing the line, so after Michael gestured some of the PatPat’s to block off the mangled Staff Bot, they guided the mobian off to the side, where they could keep an eye on him and wait for Mr. Watkins to arrive.

Nett turned to the mobian at that point, and after a second, he asked. “Do you have a guest profile?”

“No?” The mobian shook his head. “I’ve never been here before. I just heard of the place. Y’all keep guest profiles?” Both Michael and Nett nodded. The mobian snorted a laugh. “Well, that’s creepy.”

“What’s your name?” Michael pressed. If given any information at all, Nett would be able to compile a temporary profile for the Mobian while they got all of this sorted out. And while they did have a point about all the data hoarding… Michael would be lying if he said it didn’t come in useful. 

“Sonic the Hedgehog.” They supplied. Struck a little pose, and everything. The way they said it, it sounded more like a title than a name. “Nice to meetcha…” They squinted at Michael’s uniform. “Michael.” And then they turned to Nett. “And you are?”

“I’m Nett.” And then Marry popped out of the backpack, waving eagerly. Sonic jolted back, but after a second, laughed and returned the wave just as cheerfully. 

“And I’m Marry!” 

“Heya Marry!” Sonic’s smile was bright. It was almost hard to believe they were waiting here for Mr. Watkins to tell them whether they should kick them out or not. “And nice to meet you too, Nett.”

“GlitchTrap called. I saw the Staff Bot.” 

And there it was. The urgent voice of Mr. Watkins as the man emerged amongst the crowd, face flushed, as if he’d ran over part of the way. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yeah, we’re fine!” Marry supplied. She gestured at Sonic with a big flourish, and Mr. Watkins halted in his tracks. “We’ve apprehended the culprit!”

Sonic barked a dry laugh. And yet there was something fond beneath that. “Woo! You’ve caught me!”

For a second, Mr. Watkins didn’t say anything. Michael watched him stare at Sonic, eyes narrowing, if just a bit. Sonic looked over and cracked a small smile, not really appropriate considering what was going on.

“Explain.” Mr. Watkins begged.

So Michael did. Explained what his side of the story was, anyways. Security ping, show up and there’s a robot trashed on the ground, and then Sonic ripped through Nett’s net before suddenly switching moods completely and offering to pay for the damages. GlitchTrap explained how he’d watched Sonic be apprehended for what must’ve been something he said, before he turned around and drove his quills into the robot like a spinning buzzsaw –Michael had thought those were just for show, bloody heck–ringing the alarm for Nett to arrive on the scene. And Nett had arrived, but upon attempting to speak to Sonic, the mobian had lashed out as well, forcing Nett to retreat multiple times before he finally used his net.

Mr. Watkins nodded along. His lips were pursed, brow strained, and it struck Michael that that Code Dash must’ve still been bouncing around in his head. A worse case scenario, all hands on deck. A hostile guest. Their story certainly painted Sonic as dangerous. The fact the police had not yet been called was really ridiculous when faced with the facts.

“Why was he originally apprehended?” Mr. Watkins eventually asked. “You said it was because of something he said?”

“A man said it was for no reason, actually!” Marry chimed in. “He said the Staff bot drove in and just grabbed him out of nowhere!”

Mr. Watkins turned, and finally, he looked at Sonic, who had been watching the guests walking by almost desperately. “What’s your side of the story?”

“Me?” Sonic blinked, laughed. Rubbed his head sheepishly. “I, well. I came over to try and book my little bro’s birthday party. He loves robots, y’know? And I’d found a few coupons, so I figured, heck, why not? But then, one of the coupons expired. And while I’m trying to figure out whether I have enough cash at hand to pay for the party or whether I’ll have to come back, nuts-and-bolts over there grabs me out of nowhere and–” He chuckled, a sorta dry sound. “–And I guess I reacted.”

Michael's eyes were wide. Because it was finally sinking in. Reacted. Reacted? The robot was bits and pieces on the floor now! He’d seen guests launch themselves at Staff Bots before. A dent was the best they’d ever managed. “You killed it. And that’s just a reaction ?”

“Michael.”

It was Mr. Watkins. His voice begged for some patience, as he stepped forwards. His eyes wandered around the Pizzaplex, hovering over every Staff bot, a grimace on his face as if remembering something truly unpleasant. Eventually, he turned towards Sonic with a small smile. “Was it the robots?”

There was a pause. Sonic met Mr. Watkin’s patient smile with a blank face, just green eyes fixed in his general direction. But eventually, after a few seconds, he sighed, and his gaze slipped downwards, clutching his arm in his hand. “Yeah. Yeah, it was. It startled me. I reacted. S’kinda my job, y’know?”

“Yes, I figured.” Mr. Watkins sighed. “I have to apologize. I fear that our facilities were not really built with mobians in mind. Especially now with the war.” He looked around, and Michael recognized that look in his eye as the one he got whenever something with the Pizzaplex was not all it could be, when dissatisfaction for the guests and workers alike was also dissatisfaction for him. “And facial recognition for mobians is not as reliable as it should be. It is likely that the Security Bot mistook mild frustration as severe aggression and wrongly apprehended you. We… That is a mistake on our end. I apologize.”

And that– that was an answer, Michael supposed. It undid some of the knots of worry that had begun forming in Michael’s mind, about rabbits and knives. But then again… that was such a stupid reason for a Security Bot to apprehend someone.

“S’cool, dude.” Sonic offered. He really sounded completely unperturbed. “I’ll just pay for the bot and the party. S’all fine. Yeah?”

Mr. Watkins nodded. He gestured back towards the Pizzaplex. “If you’ll follow me, I believe we can get this settled fairly quickly. I just need to figure out the cost in damages.”

Sonic’s smirk was bright. “Sure!”

Mr. Watkins turned to Nett and Marry, and he smiled at them, patting Nett’s arm. “Nett, Marry, you can go back to your patrols. You did a wonderful job and handled this expertly.”

“Thanks, Sir!” Nett beamed at the praise, and Marry squealed with joy. She dove back into the backpack, and Nett took a step back, waving at Michael. “See ya, Michael” He smiled at Sonic too, waved, and then raised his hand, his wire shooting from his palm and latching into the appropriate support, pulling him into the air.

“You can go as well, Michael. Thank you.” Mr. Watkins gestured for Michael to go, and for Sonic to follow, the latter bouncing after the manager with far too much energy in each step. Michael hesitated, watching them dart past the turnstiles on the way to Mr. Watkins’ office, before he finally managed to tear himself from the spot, heading off in an arbitrary direction, not sure if he’d come down from the burst of adrenaline yet. 

Well. That was something, he figured.

Chapter Text

Usually, the kids Foxy got were heads-over-heels for pirates.

That was usually the only kind of kid that would bother reserving him for a party, instead of Freddy, or Chica, or Bonnie or Roxanne or Monty. They were the big, popular ones. Foxy was the side niche for those obsessed kiddos that cared less about the Fazbear brand and more for concepts coincidentally found within it.

And Foxy just so happened to fit the pirate phase that so many kids went through.

So… he couldn’t say he was really ready for this one.

“Do you know what specific parts they used for your joints? Are they custom made? They seem fairly silent and compact, and your range of movement is impressive. ”

It was a mobian. They didn’t get mobians often around here. Once in a blood moon, perhaps. But there was a whole crew of ‘em in the room currently, which was surprisingly not strung full of pirate themed decor but instead decalled in streamers that must’ve been bought by the kid’s family: Sky blue streamers and banners decorated in gears and nuts and bolts.

And as for the kid? He was a wee thing. Bright blue eyes and ears perked up eagerly, he had a pair of twin tails that twisted around him in excitement. He was a fox, and according to his guest pass, his name was Miles Prower, but that was for family only. He went by Tails, and Foxy would refer to him as such.

“I… dunno. Maybe?” Foxy had no answer for that. He really wasn’t used to kids fawning over his appearance, much less his design as a robot. And much, much less this kid, who was apparently just turning ten and yet was talking about things that Foxy hadn’t even heard the techs mention.

“I mean, you’re really impressive.” Tails offered. He held Foxy’s hand in his own, and was experimentally bending each of his fingers. Foxy found all he cared to do was let him. “I don’t get to take a look at non-combat robots often. It’s interesting to see what parts are optimized in comparison to that. Like, for example, your hands are much more mobile than what I’m used to.” He moved his thumb, humming thoughtfully. “Despite having only four fingers, I mean. It’s because you have to do hand gestures, right? Aside from grabbing stuff and perhaps punching, most Eggbots don’t need this level of mobility.”

“Uh, aye.” Not that Foxy understood half of that, or why it mattered. The kid let go of his hand, and instead moved to examine his legs, whistling slowly.

“I mean, I can’t see much, but I can see some things through the casing.” He explained. His namesakes swayed slowly behind him, as he stared at Foxy’s knees with far too much curiosity. “Just as impressive as your arms, honestly. I assume this is all so you can perform more complex routines? In which case, it’s not all that different from the more complex combat bots Eggman deploys. They’re a bit stiff due to the casing, but they could strike a number of poses if they had the required coding for it.” A pause. “Which they don’t.” He looked up at Foxy with amazed eyes. “Whoever worked on your coding must’ve been marvelous. The complexity of making a robot mobile always amazes me. Especially when you’re expected to perform more complex moves that we typically don’t see in combat.”

“I be… glad ye like it?” Foxy managed. The kid was flitting about him eagerly now, chattering away like an untamed parrot about all sorts of geeky things that Foxy couldn’t hope to keep up with. He exchanged a helpless glance with Isaac, who was across the room talking with an older rabbit mobian. All Issac could offer him was a helpless shrug and a nervous thumbs up.

“Yo, Tails!”

Said kid looked up, eyes flicking to the voice. Foxy followed his gaze, and found a blue hedgehog sitting on one of the party tables, gesturing at the Staff Bot that had just entered the room with drinks. 

“This thing’s like a segway, Tails!” He exclaimed.

“Wait, really?” Tails was over in a flash. He squeaked out a hurried “Thanks, Foxy.” But that was about it. His attention was now focused solely on the Staff Bot, who, if Foxy had to say, looked pretty surprised at being the object of attention for once.

“Thanks for humoring him, dude.”

And Foxy wasn’t alone for long.

The blue hedgehog had wandered over. Foxy recognized him as Sonic the Hedgehog. His guest profile was… pretty empty, especially considering that mobians were now required to have more extensive profiles to get around the faulty facial recognition. All he had on the kid was his name, his age (15 years old), his residency (some place called Mystic Ruins that was ridiculously far away), a brief description of his appearance (lack-luster and basic when compared to those of everyone else in the room), his phone number, and the glaring lack of any sort of guardians listed on his profile. Actually, the kid was listed as Tails’ guardian.

“He’s a curious one, ain’t he?”

“Smartest person you’ll ever meet.” Sonic supplied. The fond smile on his face told him all he needed to know. “That’s my little bro, for you.”

“Aye. ‘n yer the one throwin’ this party fer ‘im?”

“Yup.” He popped the “p”. He hoisted himself onto the table beside Foxy, swinging his feet. “Kid found out about this place a while back. Kept saying it would be cool to come see. So. I delivered. He deserves something good for his tenth birthday.” He shot Foxy a bright smile. “Double digits, y’know? Big deal.”

“O’ course!” Foxy agreed. But that little observation from before had his curiosity rearing to the front. “How did ye afford this?”

A shrug was his reply. “The odd job, here and there. It doesn’t really matter, ‘cause we’re here.”

“Aye aye.” Foxy hummed thoughtfully. Tails was in the process of asking Issac if he could dismantle the Staff Bot, swearing up and down that he’d piece it back together. “Why me, though? Any o' the others would've been more fit t' answer the sprog's riddles.”

Again, a shrug. “Dunno. ‘Cause you’re a fox? Thought Tails might find that neat.”

Fair enough. Foxy decided not to push it. Especially since apparently Tails had managed to sway Issac and was in the process of detaching the Staff Bot’s arm. It was completely still, either in an impressive display of obedience or simply because it was completely mortified. Isaac was approaching now, sparring glances at the whole process as if afraid he’d get fired for it.

“Don’t worry, he’s put together more complex stuff before.” Sonic offered, at Isaac’s face. “Planes, bots, blasters, you name it. You might just want to check that there aren't any added functions after it's back together.” A laugh. “There’s probably enough stuff in this room to add some extra things.”

“That’s somehow worse.” Issac managed. But then, he shook his head. And turned to Sonic nervously. “You’re… you’re the host, right?”

Sonic nodded.

“I wanted to let you know that the cake might be a little delayed. There were some problems down in the kitchen, and they’re scrambling to get up to schedule. Is that fine?”

“Oh, totally.” Sonic smirked. “I get it. Not everyone is as fast as me. They can take however long they need. Worst case scenario we cut slices and give them to everyone to go.”

And Foxy noticed the exact moment that Isaac released all that tension. When it came down to issues with scheduled parties, there was an ever present danger of an entitled parent throwing a fit and ruining the event for everyone. Sonic’s reply was just about one of the kindest ones they’d ever gotten.

Foxy cackled, placing his hook on Sonic’s shoulder. “Ain’t he–”

He drew away as if burned by fire.

Foxy had barely even registered the damage reports that flooded his vision as his eyes flew to the sharpened quills, the startled eyes. Isaac had acted faster than him this time, hand reached out and grabbed Sonic’s arm, tugging him away. Foxy looked down, and found that his hook had been cleaved right in half. His arm fared not much better, the casing scratched, pierced in some places. Nothing important had been damaged, but he still found himself startled by the amount of damage that was present.

“Shoot!” It was Sonic that spoke first. He tried tugging himself from Isaac’s grip, but the man wouldn’t budge. The alarm in his eyes was evident, though. “I’m so sorry! You startled, me, shoot–”

“‘Tis alright.” Foxy managed, after a moment. Isaac still hadn’t let go, and as Foxy noticed Sonic still tugging to free his arm, he turned to Isaac. “Ye can let ‘im go. T’was an accident.”

Isaac still seemed warry. “You sure?”

“Are ye questionin’ yer cap’n’s orders?”

“No, captain.” And Isaac let go.

Sonic rubbed at his arm. But his eyes were on Foxy again, and on the damage left behind on his arm. “I’m really sorry about that. You just… You startled me. I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t have the best of relationships with machines, yeah?”

“I already said ‘tis alright.” Foxy stressed. Even with faulty facial recognition on mobians, it was plenty clear the kid was stressed. “'twas an accident. I don't wants t' hear anythin' more about it. Cap'n's orders.”

Sonic paused. Hesitated. Then, he smiled and saluted. “Aye aye, captain.”

“Now, ye shall prolly go 'n check on the sprog. Make sure he hasn't hurt hisself or the Staff Bot.”

That was aimed at Isaac. After a moment, the man nodded, and turned to leave, weaving between the tables to try and judge what Tails had managed in that short time.

Foxy turned his gaze to Sonic. He noticed the way the kid watched as Issac left too, noticed the way he clutched at his arms. Remembered the way he tugged to be free despite appearing decently calm and apologetic.

“Ye alright, sprog?”

Sonic laughed. His hands didn’t budge from where they were on his arms. “I’m not the one who just got shredded by some of the sharpest things in the world.”

Foxy stared. “Issac grabbed ye. I wants t' check ye be alright.”

“I–” Sonic’s eyes drifted away, towards the rest of the party. The fond smile returned to his lips. “Sometimes I just don’t do well with sudden touch. It’s fine, though.”

Foxy opened Sonic’s guest profile, quickly adding a public note to it.

• Doesn’t do well with sudden touch. Always ask beforehand. Goes for humans and animatronics. Especially animatronics.

He attached a report of the damages, for good measure. And made sure to make it clear it was an accident, that the kid didn’t mean any harm. That he was a good kid, albeit a bit jumpy.

“Mighty well then. As long as ye be fine.”

“Way past fine.” Sonic smirked. He cast a glance around the party, and his eyes landed on a purple mobian, someway across the room. “Hey, wanna meet Blaze? She knows a pirate. You’ll like her!”

“Oh? A fellow buccaneer? She couldn't hope t' 'ave tales as impressive as mine.”

Sonic chortled. He hopped off the table, gesturing for Foxy to follow. “Oh, don’t be so sure about that, Captain!”

“Har! Me tales be some o' the most revered in these seas.”

So Foxy followed. Followed and talked some more, got to know the scallywags in the party. All of them there for the little kid that somehow managed to wire the Staff Bot to do a dance routine. It was welcoming. When Foxy’s allotted time was over, he almost didn’t want to go. They were an eager and interesting bunch.

Perhaps, he’d cross paths with them again some day.

Chapter Text

It had been a normal day.

It had been, until the roof of the atrium caved in , and it was only by a stroke of luck that Nett had been nearby. Processor flying into overdrive, warnings screaming at him that four separate crucial anchor points were he was heading were rendered null, he barely managed to figure out the angle needed with the available anchors to swoop down, barely managing to scoop up the poor woman who had frozen beneath the falling debris with her daughter. He had to pull back the wire–lest he swing back towards the destruction–eyes wide, and they went sprawling across the floor, the little girl crying, the woman gasping. They crashed against some of the party tables, and the world screamed as concrete chunks and glass and the big TV displays came crashing to the ground, deafening cacophony that gave way to people screaming, children crying, mass hysteria as everyone bolted for the exits.

“ Code Dash! ” GlitchTrap was wailing in the radios. There was horror in his voice, borderline mania, a helplessness that shocked Nett back to his feet. “ Code Black! Code White?! Code Yellow maybe?! Code Green and I hope not Code Adam but in this mess who knows– MAYHEM! It’s all a mess!! The roof caved IN !”

Nett turned around. He hoisted the woman to her feet, and she was barely coherent enough to tell him whether she could move, but she could, and once her child was safely on her feet, and thankfully not that injured, Nett grabbed her shoulders, pointed at the exit, and told her to run.

She did.

“Nett!” Marry gasped. She pulled herself from the backpack, leaning over his shoulder to point up. “Look!”

Immediately Nett turned back to the rubble, eyes gliding over the hole now replacing the skylights, jagged edges that showed crumbling concrete and exposed steel beams. He couldn’t see what could have caused the damage. There had been no earthquake, and outside the weather looked pristine, but the roof now laying in a pile on the ground begged for an explanation. And it was only because he was looking up at the jagged maw that he noticed the orange forms appearing over the edge, and then, jumping down. 

“ LOOK OUT!”

It was only GlitchTrap’s screaming that had Nett leaping to the side in time to avoid getting… blasted? Shot? A pulse of energy that whizzed by over his head and narrowly missed hitting anyone else, charring the trunk of a fake palm tree and bowling the ornamental plant over. He whirled on the orange figures, barely registering they were these odd, almost chunky robots with bright blue eyes before tossing his palm out, weighed net flying in their direction.

It entrapped one of the robots. It halted, its companions climbing off the rubble and it froze in its tracks, before all at once it raised its arm–a blaster of some sort, Nett realized too late–and blasted clean through the net.

“It–” Marry gasped. Nett felt the same. The robot turned to them, raised its blaster, and much too late Nett raised his hand to swing away.

“ Nett– ”

A hand on his arm. And then he was away, leaning against one of the pots in shock. He looked up in time to see the robot about to blast him get shredded to tiny little bits , a blur of blue solidifying into the form of the mobian from all those days ago.

He turned to him. He had a guest profile now, after booking the party, after spending a day at the Pizzaplex. Sonic the Hedgehog, age fifteen, pronouns he/him, residence somewhere in someplace called Mystic Ruins, a whole list of information either provided by him or a few public notes made by Foxy, all tied to a guest profile that popped into the forefront of Nett’s mind the moment he got a clear enough look for a facial scan. (Which… took longer than it would have, usually. Mr. Watkin’s was right, the facial recognition for mobians was less than ideal).

What was immediately clear was that he hadn’t bought an entrance pass today.

“Go!” Sonic called. With a startle, Nett realized that Sonic was talking to him. “Those folks are gonna get more hurt getting out of here than because of these bots. I’ll take care of these!”

There was no chance for Nett to even think of discussing anything. The hedgehog was gone in a blur of blue, and it was only because what he said held far too much weight that Nett didn’t even question it, tossing out his wire and swinging himself towards where the crowds were headed, scanning the atrium as he went to make sure no one had been left behind.

“GlitchTrap, what’s the status?”

“ Weneedbiggerdoors .” The rabbit spat back over the radio. The horror had given way to a frantic helplessness, mouth running. “Freddy’s combing through FazerBlast. Roxy’s shaking everyone out of the Raceway and Monty’s got GatorGolf covered. Bonnie and Natty are trying to get a party out of Bonnie Bowl. Chica’s evacuated Mazercise. Yumi and Kishi are in the Fazcade, and Sun’s already evacuated the children from the Daycare. Foxy’s down by the front barking orders and Issac is trying to coordinate the elevators. Cosmo’s somewhere on the second floor and Ballora is down by the Lobby with Mr. Watkins. I don’t know where DJ is which is scary because he’s the hardest one to lose. ” There wasn’t a pause. There should’ve been, if Nett knew GlitchTrap at all. He was always so insistent in mimicking behaviors. A breath should’ve gone there. “What do we do?”

“Get everyone out.” Nett managed. “There’s– Don’t worry about the roof. Tell everyone to get everyone out.”

“Okay, yeah, can do!” And then there was a silence, which Nett took as the equivalent of GlitchTrap turning around and shouting at everyone with some access to the alert system to help get guests out.

Time flew by. It was a blur of what must’ve been the robotic substitute of adrenaline, hyper aware of Marry cowering in his backpack, unable to do anything because guests–rude or not, regulars and new–were in danger. There were no protocols for this. There were protocols for fires and earthquakes and tornadoes and even shootings, but certainly not for this. But evacuation was the top priority, and people never did seem to do it calmly when it mattered, so Nett went with that and focused on herding everyone out.

Mr. Watkins worried, first and foremost, about the safety of everyone.

All animatronics could do surface scans for the kinds of injuries that admittedly, humans tended to miss. Some were better equipped for it than others. The Security Staffbots, the Med Bots, Nett, Roxy, Moon and Sun– they were the most prodigious, as was the nature of their occupation. With so many Staff Bots outside, intermingling with all the guests, most of whom had not gone any further due to sheer panic, and all the main animatronics close by, it was not long before GlitchTrap reported through the radios that there was a clean bill of health for all guests. That is, no one had suffered from life threatening injuries that required immediate carrying for. A miracle that Mr. Watkins simply did not believe in, but he had to take it, because there were simply more things to be done.

There were guests trying to leave. In this mess, it would be easy to take advantage of the confused crowds to get away with a child that wasn’t theirs. Roxy and Cosmo were both already by the entrance to the multi-story parking lot, scanning anyone that went by with a child in tow, stopping them if necessary, to make sure that each child was with their parents and everyone was going willingly. It was hard. It was hard because everyone was still panicking, and the general instinct from a lot of people was just to throw themselves into their cars and drive away as fast as possible. Monty and Bonnie were by the drop-off/pick-up drive. Cars were starting to arrive, for people that had been driven here, and the two were making sure that everyone there was okay to leave as well. Sun was making a noble effort of checking out all of the children under his care manually, having the parents form a line to get their guest ID recognized before they could leave with their child. Tiffany and Issac were both in there keeping the children calm, entertaining them with some tale or other, while Foxy mingled about and casted glares at anyone that drew much too close to the children without authorization.

Michael was flitting about the entrance nervously, pacing back and forth as Nett finished ushering the last few guests out. Yumi was not far off, Kishi hovering nearby, as she pressed against the glass, making chattering noises and receiving low beeps and hums in return, and with a start, Mr. Watkins realized that she was checking in on DJ, who could not evacuate with them.

The mass panic was starting to ebb away already, as no more roofs seemed to be collapsing, and that just meant it started giving way to frustration. Angry shouting from guests fueled by fear, some with rightful concern for their and their child’s safety, some just old hags already demanding refunds. But suddenly, Karens did not seem like that big of an issue, and other employees seem to realize this too, because Mr. Watkins faintly heard Joshua telling a father to wait so they could check if everyone was alive before he asked for a rescheduled party.

“GlitchTrap, is everyone accounted for?” Mr. Watkins finally asked. Freddy and Natty were making their way over already, closely tailed by Chica and Ballora. Despite three of them being robots, they all looked equally worried.

“I’m not!” The rabbit whined back. Mr. Watkins would have reprimanded him, had it not stuck him then that GlitchTrap was just trying to cope. Jokes seemed like a reasonable, in-the-moment coping strategy for him. “I’m still in here! And– And there’s probably people in here with me. The scans didn’t account for everyone. Fourteen adults and 6 underage guests remain unaccounted for. Someone has to go and find them.”

“Understood.” Mr. Watkins had to ignore the way his hands shook. His eyes skimmed over the masses of people again and then turned to the animatronics and Natty who had stopped before him. “Chica, Ballora, see if you can round up everyone who got separated from someone. Adult or kid, it doesn’t matter.”

They both nodded off in a flash as they darted into the crowd to ask people whether they needed assistance or not.

“Freddy, Natty, see if you can help them track down whoever it is they’re missing. Chances are, they’re lost in that crowd and not inside.”

Natty nodded. Freddy’s ears dipped in concern but his expression was as stone-set as it’d get. They both turned and went off to work, and Mr. Watkins rushed over to the entrance, where Michael was now conversing with Nett.

“There’s a kid in there.” Nett managed. He remained hovering by the doorway, uncertain. He regarded the world outside with distrust, Marry perched on his shoulder looking the picture of anxiety. He sounded worried. “He took down one of the robots and told me to focus on the evacuation. I need to go back and check that he’s okay.”

Mr. Watkins felt his blood run cold. “Hold on, robots?”

Nett turned. He shifted weight from leg to the other, gaze flicking about nervously. He eventually nodded. “Robots. Orange with guns. They’re the ones that made the roof cave in.”

“And…” Mr. Watkins spared a glance at Michael. He looked just as helpless and lost, still tittering on his tip-toes as if unable to keep still. “You said a kid took one down.”

“Sonic the Hedgehog.” Nett supplied. “He was the one who damaged the Staff Bot a month ago. Aside from that, he was only ever at the Pizzaplex for the party with Foxy.”

“He isn't a guest today.” GlitchTrap chimed. “We’re still missing the same amount of people.”

“Of course.” So add an extra kid that wasn’t even accounted for into the possibly-missing-and-wounded-list. “Michael, Nett, Marry, I need you to get in there and try tracking down whoever’s still missing. GlitchTrap should be able to update you on that. Yumi–” She looked up with a startled look from where she’d been pushing a door open, blinking hard. When her eyes landed on Mr. Watkins, she smiled nervously, and he continued. “Can you go find Kevin and try to round up all the Med Bots into one place and out of the crowds? That should make it easier for guests seeking for more immediate attention to get some.”

“R-Right!” She saluted, straight and stiff and everything, before turning around and chirping a goodbye to DJ. The response was a noise akin to a reversed flute, which made Yumi hesitate, but eventually she turned and headed for the crowd, Kishi trailing after her, to try and find Kevin somewhere amidst everyone else.

Michael darted into the doorway, ducking past Nett. Nett shimmied to the side to let him through, but remained perched in the doorway regardless, and Michael stopped before getting any further, turning around upon realizing he wasn’t following.

“What’s wrong?”

Nett shook his head. “What if the building–”

Whatever else Nett said was lost to the wind. The wind. The wind that came from the inside, that rustled about them and made them all duck and brace, that tore an alarmed air horn from the DJ inside, that had Mr. Watkins shutting his eyes and bracing himself against gales befitting of the town’s name, which threatened to blow him off his feet and then died as suddenly as they’d come.

Mr. Watkins tore open his eyes, heart up in throat. He was greeted by eager green eyes and cobalt blue quills.

“Sonic the Hedgehog, Hero of Mobius.” A flourish, a bow. Mr. Watkins was faintly aware of Nett and Marry and Michael staring as intensely as he was. “Fastest Thing Alive, at your service.”

There was silence. For a moment, Mr. Watkins wasn’t sure where the mobian had even come from, much less how to react.

Nett just blurted out what seemed to be the first thing he recognized. “You’re the kid!”

Said kid promptly deflated, turning to Nett with an almost pouty frown. “Not a kid!” A whine. But then he was turning back to Mr. Watkins, smile sliding back into place. “You’re the man in charge, right?”

And then it was then that it clicked. Fastest Thing Alive. Hero of Mobius. He’d heard that before. Seen it in headlines before. A lot of articles concerning the war and all other sorts of issues that should’ve been alarming but were always downplayed by the news. He’d never understood that. Never understood why the politics of their own countries were dramas more akin to TV shows while the wars ranging outside their borders were distant whispers. But these particular whispers were always the loudest, about some hero amongst the mobians, about a threatening force, and suddenly, he isn’t sure if he’s really staring at a kid at all.

“Were you…” Mr. Watkins took a deep breath. His eyes slipped over to the doorway and into the confines of the Pizzaplex and its neon-lit lights, the Lobby pristine and not betraying any sign of the danger that had forced everyone to evacuate. “Were you destroying the robots?”

“Yup!” Sonic popped the “p”, with a little bounce to boot. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded in the direction of the Pizzaplex. “It was a smaller squadron. S’ typical of human-heavy places–no offense, but y’all don’t usually have the defense to handle Eggman’s bots. Usually a gaggle that small wouldn’t cause that many problems; stands to say I already took care of them.” He shrugged. “But typically, they don’t get sent to such enclosed, crowded spaces. I imagine the panic did more harm than the actual robots. So.” Another flourish. “I’m here! By now I’d be on my way, but people probably got lost, and it’s my job making sure that everyone is safe, yeah? So, whatcha need me to do?”

Mr. Watkins hesitated to answer. If only because it was a kid in front of him. The idea of sending a kid of all people into the Pizzaplex, when they weren’t sure of its structural integrity, made him uneasy.

But…

“Go with Michael, our security guard. Help him find the missing guests.” Mr. Watkins eventually settled. Sonic nodded and mocked a salute, and then bounced his way over to Michael. Mr. Watkins turned to Marry and Nett. “You two look for the guests on your own. It’ll be faster this way.”

“A-Are you sure?” Nett questioned. And Mr. Watkins knew the hesitance wasn’t about being sent off to find the guests. It was about the mobian eagerly bouncing into the building, Michael trailing after him almost in alarm.

Mr. Watkins sighed. “Yes. I am.”

He hoped.

“If you’re worried about the damage, don’t be.”

Everyone had been tracked down. It hadn’t taken as long as it could’ve, thankfully. And no one was majorly wounded. The stray guests were herded to the exits, and once Sonic was sure they were safe, he took his chance and bolted back into the complex, taking a good look at the hole now adorning the roof.

“We’ve got some folks who roll over and patch up damages caused by Eggman’s bots.” Sonic offered. He was already sending the text over to Jewel as he said that, sharply aware of Mr. Watkin’s gaze locked on him. “ Typically , corporations that have tons of money get put on the back-burner, because usually you folks have enough money to pay for all costs and have the damages fixed faster than our efforts could ever hope to. But there’s you folks–” He gestured at the animatronics, who had all bunched up close to the door after everyone had left “–who live here. If you think that getting the hole patched up might bring up some problems with the higher-ups, you can just tell them that we’ve got you covered.”

Sonic looked up with a smile. “I mean, I don’t directly work with them. Jewel’s the one that handles all the details. But I’m pretty sure we give priorities to places that house lots of people. The more, the merrier.”

When he noticed the nervous and confused glances everyone was exchanging, Sonic rolled his eyes. “We work with enough robots to know you folks are people. Don’t worry about that. I’ll vouch for you if anyone has anything to say otherwise.”

Mr. Watkins stepped up. “Are you sure? That sounds like an awful lot for free. I’m sure we can pay for this.”

“This is my job, dude.” Sonic laughed. “And yeah, I’m sure you can pay. Just in case you can’t for some reason, it’s always nice to have a backup.”

The man’s eyes drifted away, but eventually, he looked back at Sonic with what could only be called a professional-yet-kindly smile. “Very well then, thank you.”

Sonic smirked. “No probs. And don’t worry about Eggman’s bots bothering you again, chances were, he heard ‘bout your ‘bots and wanted to check ‘em out.” He turned to Nett. “And no offense, but if you’re the security bot ‘round here, then you put up a lackluster performance.” He shrugged. “Which is good. He’s probably not interested anymore.”

“Anyways, I should probably get going.” Sonic announced. His com-watch buzzed, announced a reply from Jewel, and he smiled. “You’ll get contacted by Jewel soon, with details on the fix-up. She’s super kind. You’ll love her.”

With a flourish, he waved at everyone there. A combination of human workers and animatronic performers, and he really hoped that the damage done to the establishment wouldn’t weigh them down much. He hoped it wouldn’t interfere with the worker’s livelihoods, or endanger the animatronics’ lives.

He really, really hoped that his hesitation earlier on, when he’d seen the robots but decided they weren't that big a threat, hadn’t ruined everything for everyone here so fast.

“See y’all!” He chirped.

And with that, he turned on his heel, and as always, ran.

He really hoped.

Chapter Text

Moon had forgotten about Sonic, by then.

Well, not “forgotten”. He hadn’t ever even met the kid, to begin with. The only ones who really had were Michael, Mr. Watkins, Foxy, and Nett and Marry. But he’d known enough to know it was the same kid who had prompted Mr. Watkins to update Mobian profiles to try and mitigate the dangers of faulty mobian facial recognition. Known enough to know he was the kid who had rented out Foxy for his little brother, an event that had seen around twenty mobians arriving at the Pizzaplex, from all sorts of places. Known enough to recognize him after a few failed scans as the mobian talking to Mr. Watkins following the evacuation, promising a backup repair job if for some reason they couldn’t afford it. And he still had access to his profile, just like any other guest profile, and it had information on him.

So. Moon hadn’t forgotten. He just… hadn’t thought about him.

Not until he saw him today.

It was during his patrol. The company Mr. Watkins hired to patch up the PizzaPlex only came by during the day, and only four days a week, but they promised to get the damage patched up in three months, at the most. The damage had thankfully turned out to be limited only to the hole now on the roof and the damaged floor, and the rest of the Pizzaplex had remained intact and was technically functional. Of course, they couldn’t open with a big huge hole on the roof only covered by a tarp to prevent rain water from streaming inside, but it was still safe enough that Mr. Watkins settled that the animatronics could remain active while repairs were going on so long as they didn’t interfere.

And Moon was in the middle of his hourly patrol, at two in the forsaken morning. And there was someone that was painfully not a Staff Bot sweeping the floor .

He dropped down nearby. He couldn’t swing the full way there due to the damaged roof, and as such he had to walk. But being down on the floor allowed him to see that the figure was tiny , three feet tall, and oddly shaped despite being humanoid. The ringing of his bells alerted them to his approach, and he was met with glowing green eyes as he attempted to run a scan, growling lowly when it came back failed.

Mobian, then. A human would’ve been recognized even in the darkness of the power-rerouting hours.

“Hi?” They offered. They didn’t seem hostile, which was a plus, but another scan came back failed and Moon began to realize why Mr. Watkins was suddenly so adamant in getting a mobian-related update rolled out.

“What’s your name?” Moon asked. He couldn’t even be mad at them, if he wanted to. They sounded sheepish, embarrassed almost, and that coupled with their size made Moon think of the children of Daycare, shuffling their feet together awkwardly when they’d been caught doing something embarrassing. 

“Sonic?” They offered. It was such a distinct name that immediately it flagged the corresponding profile, and Moon blinked as he realized who it was.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. The Staff Bots around them were patrolling diligently, and it struck Moon that Sonic had deliberately placed himself in a blindspot that would usually have been covered if not for the pile of debris still in the middle of the atrium. It hadn’t been cleaned up, simply because the repairs on the ceiling would undoubtedly make a mess, and as such, the company had resolved to clean it up after repairs up above were done.

But now that Moon thought about it… the pile seemed to be getting smaller. And there were a few new skid marks on the floors that hadn’t really been there before.

And there was a hedgehog sweeping up the floor in front of him.

“Uh… I was just finishing up now.” Sonic gestured vaguely. Broom in hand, he nudged a pile of dust and rocks and pebbles by his feet. “Piles up every day, y’know? The robots that have the brooms can’t seem to find this stuff, either.”

“They’re not supposed to be going close to this.” Moon offered. He had to admit, this was… the weirdest possible reason to be breaking and entering. “It isn’t getting done until repairs up there get finished.” He gestured at the ceiling. Sonic looked up. Moon shook his wrist, and the bells jingled, and Sonic looked over. He tilted his head. “How did you even get in here?”

Sonic pointed up. Clearly, he was oblivious to the pang of horror and worry that that sent shooting through Moon as he frantically scanned the hole to see if there was any proper way that could be deemed safe to enter the PizzaPlex through there. There wasn’t. All repairs were still outside.

“Big ol’ hole in the ceiling. How wouldn’t I get in?” Sonic offered. When Moon looked back down at him, he was sweeping again. 

“What are you doing? ”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” But he shrugged. Between that second and the next he had a dust pan in hand, and Moon reeled back, unsure of how that had gotten there. His optical feed didn’t report any stutters but that hadn’t been there before. Sonic just chuckled to himself. “Cleaning up. Figured I could lend a hand. Break up this stuff, get it out. It would speed up the time it takes for repairs.”

So the pile had been getting smaller. It wasn’t just Moon not paying attention. “Why?”

“Uh.” Sonic paused. He hesitated before sweeping up into the dust pan, eyes on the floor, before he finally sighed. “This was… kinda my mess. I saw the ‘bots, but I ignored them. ‘Cause I wasn’t… really feeling it, yeah? But then I heard the screams and–” He swept the dust into the dust pan, and straightened up. “And by then the damage was done. Least I can do is help clean it up.”

Moon sputtered. He double-checked the guest profile. Sonic was fifteen . He was a kid. How– “How would the robots even be–”

“Sonic the Hedgehog. Hero of Mobius. Fastest Thing Alive.” Sonic offered with a shrug. He started towards a trash can with the dustpan in hand. He sounded simultaneously proud and ashamed. “It’s kinda my job , man. Like, I don’t know how much you know about the world outside, but I essentially bop bots for a living. I should’ve handled them when I saw them. Would’ve taken a couple of seconds, tops.” He sighed. “So. M’ here now. Gonna help ‘cause I hear a lot of people love this place and it shouldn’t be closed because I got careless, you get me?”

No. Moon, did in fact, not get him. He couldn’t understand how it could be a kid’s job to destroy robots, but perhaps he just wasn’t understanding. And he wasn’t all too sure he wanted to push it either. There was something about the kid that made him feel as if he should’ve known this stuff.

“Well, you’re trespassing.” Moon finally managed. Not that he wanted to kick the kid out. It’s just that his security programming was still bugging him about it and the only way he could think of easing the throb was to talk about it.

“Oh!” Sonic jolted, blinked. The next second he wasn’t holding a broom or a dustpan, casually strolling in Moon’s direction, scratching at the back of his head. “Sorry. I’m kinda just used to… showing up wherever, whenever. Not many people can do much about that. Kinda hard to stop me.”

Before Moon could even try and process what that would entail, Sonic clapped his hands, eyes widening a bit.

“Oh! Gosh dang it. I never even asked!” He shook his head, and smiled up at Moon. “Sorry, I never even caught your name. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you before. You weren’t there when everyone evacuated.”

“Was.” Moon corrected. “Sun fronts when it’s bright outside. I take the darkness.”

“Ah.” Sonic smirked. “I think I remember a sun robot. And if they’re Sun, then… you’re Moon, right?”

“Yes.”

“Cool!” Sonic laughed. Between one second and the next suddenly he was gone, and Moon whipped around, feeling his eyes widen when he spotted Sonic settled at the top of the pile of debris. How did he keep doing that? It wasn’t normal.

“Well, Moon, I’ll get out of your metaphorical hair.” Sonic announced, with what must’ve been a flourish. “Got stuff to do, places to be and see, more bots to bust. Super nice to meet you!”

“I–” What was the appropriate response in this situation? It was so far out there that all that Moon could strangle was a “nice to meet you too.” And in the next second a gust of wind shook the atrium, and Sonic was gone, only the slight flapping of the tarp any hint as to where or how.  

 And yet, Moon had a feeling that this wasn’t the last he’d see of the kid.

Chapter Text

Sun, eventually, determined that this just wouldn’t do.

The boy kept coming back. Moon kept seeing him, during his patrols, sweeping up the floor, cracking the debris up into smaller pieces and carrying the remains off towards the garbage chutes. And he did nothing. Despite Sun’s eternal insistence to pick up a mop and lend a hand, Moon just settled that the boy… probably knew what he was doing and he wouldn’t bother him so long as he didn’t do anything illegal.

So. If Moon wasn’t going to do anything during his patrols, then Sun would just have to lend a hand during his time.

“Hello, friend!”

Which is why he was standing here now, cleaning supplies in a neat stack beside him, as he watched Sonic approach with confusion on his face.

“Uh, hi?” Sonic tilted his head. Perhaps he would’ve waved, if he hadn’t had his hands full of broom and dust pan. The confusion was evident in his voice. “You’re… Sun, right?”

“The one and only!” Sun announced. He turned around, fetched his own broom from the collection, and gestured at the pile of debris. It was certainly getting smaller. Perhaps everyone else thought the workers were cleaning it up. “I’m here to help!”

Sonic stopped. He stared at Sun, eyes flicking to the pile. And then he stuttered a laugh. “What?”

“This isn’t a job for one!” Sun explained, gesturing at the mess. “I mean, look at this! You’re doing us a great service by cleaning this all up, friend, but it isn’t fair to leave all of this for your lonesome! So! I’m here to help.” He tucked the broom under his arm, and clapped his hands. “Moony didn’t want to help during his time, so I figured I’d come here early to help you from the start.”

“Oh.” Sonic blinked. He looked between the debris and Sun, and then set the dustpan down. He scratched at his head sheepishly. “Uh, you and Moon share a body, right? I don’t know how much he told you, but this is kinda my mess. Just, taking responsibility for my actions, y’know? No need to help me, I’ve got this covered.”

“Oh, Moony told me!” In severe confusion and concern, Sun might add, but he figured that was probably a discussion for later. Sonic already seemed flighty. “That doesn’t mean I can’t just want to help. I love to clean, friend! This all sounds so fun to me. So I came to help!”

“I mean–” Sonic shrugged. “If you say you like to clean, then I guess I can’t stop you. Just, uh–” He eyes the debris. The concrete and steam beams and broken TVs. “Stand clear when I tell you, yeah? I can break this stuff down but usually it goes flying. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh, then… are you sure it’s safe, friend?”

“Perfectly. For me, at the very least.” Sonic smirked. He flipped onto a piece of debris, and Sun felt a spike of anxiety when it shifted beneath Sonic’s feet. The hedgehog didn’t even seem to notice. “I guess, just, uh, sweep the floor and get the smaller stuff off, and I’ll get rid of the big chunks.”

“Uh, sure, friend!” Now that Sun looked at the floor, it was awfully dirty. Not as dirty as it could’ve been, no doubt thanks to Sonic’s efforts, but certainly not up to any sanitary standards. He grabbed the broom, and after a moment of deliberation on where to start, he began working away at the areas furthest away from the pile, as that was the least likely place to get dirty again.

At multiple points, Sonic darted past him, with chunks of rock almost as big as his head on hand. Every singular time, Sun paused in concern, watching Sonic lug the no doubt heavy boulders around, and he always asked if Sonic wanted help. The hedgehog always replied with a no, smiling as he continued on his way to… Sun figured he must’ve found a kitchen garbage chute big enough somewhere to drop off the sizable stones. That, or somehow he was running them down to the garbage disposal area and back in less than five minutes for each trip, and Sun really doubted that was possible.

Eventually, though, Sonic seemed to run out of free chunks to just pick up, and Sun paused his sweeping to watch him contemplate the pile.

“I think you should leave the rest to the professionals, friend.” Sun encouraged. He was half-mortified that Sonic would attempt to dislodge one of the chunks that was very clearly bigger than him, and quite possibly end up getting buried beneath the pile if it came tumbling down the wrong way.

“Nah.” Sonic returned. He strolled around the pile, pushing and shoving at it to test its stability, before he eventually found a spot that seemed relatively loose. “This is when you step back.”

Sun did as instructed, but fear seized him as he watched Sonic crouch down into a position resembling that of a runner about to start a race. Was he about to ram the pile? “Friend–”

What Sonic did next could only be described as turning into a buzzsaw. He curled up, spun in place, and suddenly it clicked that he had spikes on the back of his head as he launched himself at the debris, and did a better job than any powertool ever could at breaking up a good portion into smaller debris that, true to his word, went flying everywhere. Sun took an alarmed step back when a chunk landed close to his feet, and he looked up again in equal parts horror, equal parts amazement as Sonic kept going.

Eventually, he uncurled, and landed on the ground gracefully. He shook like a wet dog, sending little pebbles flying everywhere, and once that was done, he turned to Sun, and offered him a deep bow. “Thank you, thank you.”

Sun, despite Moon’s incredulous sputtering the back of his head, decided that he much rather be amazed than horrified, since Sonic seemed fine anyway. He clapped eagerly. “Wow, friend! That was so impressive! I didn’t know mobians could do that!”

“Not all mobians can.” Sonic explained, with a sheepish laugh. “It’s a move I invented. It’s called a spindash. Typically, it’s most effective when you’ve got quills.” To demonstrate, his quills sharpened visibly, before relaxing again. “But I’ve got some friends who can make it work without quills. The main gist is just hitting something a ton of times really fast.”

“That is so very cool, friend!” Sun praised. “But just to check, you didn’t get hurt, right?”

“Nope.” Sonic posed. Gestured at himself. “Not even a scratch. Ain’t I the coolest?”

“You are very cool indeed.” Sun agreed. He then eyed the new debris that littered the ground, and walked over, selecting one of the bigger ones. He gave it a few experimental tugs, before lifting it up into his arms. Too late he considered the possibility of scratching his casing, but he settled that it would be worth it to help Sonic. The rock wasn’t even close to his weight limit. “Let me help you get these out of here, friend.”

Sonic stopped. Hesitated. He watched Sun as if seeing him for the first time. “I mean, sure.” He bent down and gathered another boulder, holding it easy despite the fact that it must’ve been at least half his weight. “It’ll take longer, but if you want to…”

“How could it possibly take longer, friend?” Sun asked. Sonic darted past him, and he followed easily, a single step of his equal to four of Sonic’s. “You’ve been getting rid of them really fast!”

“Super speed.” Sonic offered suddenly. There was a smirk on his face. “Been running back and forth. Really handy.”

Super speed. Of fazing course. Moon said. Sun couldn’t tell if it was sarcastic or not.

“Super speed?” Sun asked. “I thought that was only in movies!”

“Nope, here–” And Sun halted in as suddenly the hedgehog beside him was gone in a gust of wind, the staff door they’d been heading for opening and slowly creaking to a close but no one was there. Sun had barely even gathered the resolve to continue forwards and investigate when suddenly Sonic was there, leaning against the now closed door, rock nowhere in sight, waving with a smile.

“Real as me.” He offered. “I’m not the Fastest Thing Alive for nothing.”

Sun stared. He swore the sound of his processor trying to adjust to the sudden revelation must’ve been audible.

So… powers were just… real? That was a thing?

…

“Oh, the children in the Daycare will love that!”  He eventually settled. He jingled his way over to Sonic, who opened the door for him and then disappeared when he was through. He reappeared not long after at his side, with another boulder. “‘I’ve got a friend with super speed!’ I’ll tell them, once we reopen. ‘He’s really cool, and his name is Sonic!’ And they’ll love it! I didn’t know superpowers were real! Oh that’s going to make them so happy!”

Sonic laughed. He bounced his way down the hall, pushing a door open with his leg and holding it that way for Sun. “You flatter me. But yeah, I’m awesome. And there’s a Daycare here?”

“Yes, there is! The SuperStar Daycare. Moon and I are the Daycare Attendants. We watch over all of the kiddos and make sure they have the time of their lives in a safe and educational setting.” Sun squealed. “Ooh, you should come and see it, friend! It’s a really fun place and– Ooh! We could play some games! We can finish cleaning up, and then we can have some fun as a reward! How does that sound?”

“I–” Sonic hesitated in front of a dark hallway. Sun hesitated too, but it was mostly to wait for Sonic. He knew Moon would help. He wouldn’t just leave Sonic hanging.

“Sure.” He offered. There was something off about his voice, but he sounded decently cheerful, so Sun opted not to comment. “We can do that.”

“Well, then, let’s finish cleaning up!”

The pile was very visibly smaller by the end of the night. And if it kept shrinking over the next few days, no one seemed to notice. Except for Sun.

He just couldn’t wait for it to be gone.

Chapter Text

“This… is the Daycare?”

“Why, of course, friend!” Sun replies.

They finished cleaning the atrium. The others must’ve noticed, by now, that someone was cleaning it, that it was clean. It wasn’t exactly easy to miss. But by all means Sonic was still trespassing and… Sun and Moon had grown fond of him. It was hard not to! The kid was clever both in mind and tongue, treating them like an old friend despite only having known them for a few days so far. He was eager at the prospect of helping, listened to everything they said and willingly returned the conversation as if everything in the world was the most interesting thing. And… he was trespassing. He wasn’t supposed to be here. If the others saw him, surely they’d kick him out! Moon had refrained from doing so, but he’d confessed that he was purposely switching from security mode to naptime mode when around the kid, to avoid the responsibility that was having to… to ban him.

So… if they’d whisked Sonic away to the Daycare the moment they were done cleaning, ushering the kid down a number of staff hallways to try and avoid running into the others, then, they had a reason.

“It’s really… colorful.” Sonic blinked. He stepped onto the mats, bent his knees and hopped a couple of times on them. There was a childlike wonder in his eyes as he regarded the play structures and celestial themed decorations. 

Sun contemplated the dust they dragged into the mats, both him and Sonic, and after a moment of deliberation, he decided it didn’t matter. The Daycare was closed for the next couple of months, anyways. 

“So, what do you want to do, friend?” Sun asked. “We have arts-and-crafts, puppet shows, snacks, fairy tales, movies, games–”

“Wait wait wait–” Sonic laughed. A little laugh tinged in nerves. “I’m not a little toddler. I don’t– This is a Daycare, Sun, I shouldn’t–”

“Even adults can have fun!” Sun corrected. He’d seen that train of thought from teenagers way too many times. “My friend, Tiffany? She’s the worker here. And she plays with me plenty! And Michael, our security guard, he’s also played with me before! Or you can just hang out. Look around! It’s all good, friend.”

We just don’t want you getting caught. They left out. We want you to stay just a little longer, but we don’t want you getting caught.

“I–” Sonic shuffled his feet. “Sure. What games do you have?”

“Oh, come look!” Sun urged. He bounced his way towards the game’s closet. “We’ve got all sorts of games. These are board games, and card games, but we can also play other games like tag or hide and seek or red light green light or–”

“Is that Jenga?”

Sun paused. He reached into the closet and fetched the orange box, holding it up for Sonic to see. “Why, indeed, friend!”

“Can we play that?” Sonic asked. “Not much chance of winning when you play against a super genius, y’know?”

“Super genius?”

“My little bro, Tails!” Sonic replied. “Smartest kiddo you’ll ever meet!”

“A, yes, I think I remember Foxy mentioning him!” Of course Sun remembered. The pirate had gone on about the odd yet bright little fox from the mobian party for days it seemed. Especially since apparently the Staff Bot he’d touched could now blow balloons and no one had been able to track it down.

“So, can we play?”

“Of course, of course.” Sun bounced back towards a table in the arts-and-crafts area, and proceeded to pull out the game. “Come on, come on! I promise you’ll have fun.”

“Looking forward to it!”

And so they played a game, and then another. And then a third. Even Moon played, before fleeing off to his patrol.

When they came back, there was a brand new jenga tower set up, twice as high, and Sonic beaming at them with the brightness to rival a star.

Chapter Text

Chica knew of Sun and Moon’s little smuggled child.

How could she not? She’d walked out of Mazersice one of these days and had seen them working together to clean up the mess. They’d been darting out of the atrium, so she hadn’t gotten a word out, but she’d seen them. A toddler sized kid and a Daycare Attendant, odd duo, darting into a staff hallway with chortling bursts of laughter.

On one hand, she couldn’t judge. The plex being closed was getting to them all. Chica itched to eat, but the kitchens weren’t making anything, and while she could just eat some of the raw ingredients–they had enough food in here to last for a couple of months before it went bad–it wasn’t nearly as gratifying as eating a full meal. She figured, perhaps, the others felt that itch too. That itch to perform and entertain. To sing and golf and bowl and dance and race. For Sun and Moon, perhaps it was an itch to just have someone for whom they could care.

So, there was a smuggled child.

On the other hand, however. There was a smuggled child! Their parents must’ve been freaking out! Chica knew Sun and Moon weren’t the kind to break the rules–they were the strictest about them, actually–but the idea that they were keeping a child here had her mildly panicking. She didn’t see much of them, so she figured perhaps they weren’t staying, but she swore she caught glimpses of them every night, darting from the atrium to the Staff hallways, and if someone was dropping of their child here so late , and Sun and Moon were letting them …

“Sunny?” Her voice was greeted only by the cheerful sounds of the Daycare’s song. She’d gathered her nerve, and was finally here to see. To make sure that in fact, Sun and Moon were not smuggling a child in every night. Her hand landed on the big wooden doors of the playpen. “Moon? I– I have a question–”

The door swung open soundlessly. She’d thought perhaps it would creak, but it didn’t and she stepped inside the playpen, half-expecting Sun to be obsessively cleaning the play structures.

Sun wasn’t there.

But the kid was.

He looked up with a startle, from where he’d been in the process of putting away a Monopoly board. The first thing Chica noticed was that he was a mobian, a brilliant, vibrant blue. And the next thing she noticed after a delayed scan was…

Not a toddler. He was fifteen. His name was Sonic.

It was him.

“Oh!” Chica blinked. “Uhm, hi, chickadee!”

“Heya!” His hands immediately left the board. He took a couple of steps back, greeted her with a smile. There was something odd about his posture, but Chica’s processors refused to acknowledge what exactly. “You’re, uh, Chica, right? Sun is out right now. Said something about Nett and pathing.”

It was the boy . The one who had talked with Mr. Watkins after the incident that had them shut down to begin with. The one who went in and found a ton of missing people and came out laughing and with a big, bright smile. It was him. Chica couldn’t begin to phantom what he was doing here.

“Oh, uh, Nett? He’s probably asking Moon for tips. He’s still a bit new, and Moon used to be the main security bot before him. So sometimes he asks Moon for help.” Chica wasn’t sure what the appropriate reaction was. She’d been expecting a little kid, more like the ones usually under Sun and Moon’s care. Not– Not Sonic, who could apparently take down robots that sent Nett fleeing. “And yes, I’m Chica! Nice to meet you, chickadee. You’re… Sonic, right?”

“Yup!”

Good. Chica wanted to make sure. While the mobian recognition wasn’t that faulty, verifying was always a good idea.

“What are you doing here so late?” So she might as well ask. Sonic was more than capable of answering. She could get more details from Sun and Moon later. “We’re closed, chickadee!”

“Uh.” Sonic chuckled, nervously. He scratched at his head sheepishly, and his foot slid backwards, just a little. “Well, originally, I was here to finish cleaning, yeah?”

Chica wanted to protest that cleaning the mess in the atrium should not have been a kid’s job. But then again, the mess in the atrium was gone now, and she was certain it would’ve taken much longer if the company had done it. Somehow, Sonic and Sunny and Moon had managed to get it cleared up all in a week.

“But… well.” Sonic laughed. “Sun said he was lonely, a bit. Said the place is gonna be closed for three months. And– And that’s kinda my fault, y’know? So I figured I could drop by, once in a while. To make up for it.”

How is it your fault, chickadee? Chica wondered. She shook her head. “Oh, that’s very sweet of you! But, we’re still closed. Guests aren’t supposed to be here! It’s not safe!”

She took a step forward. Too late she realized what that odd thing in his posture was, because next thing she knew, he was gone , and when she looked around, she found him perched on the top of one of the play structures, laughing.

He’d been ready to bolt.

“Sun also said that I shouldn’t let anyone else see me, because they might try and kick me out.” Sonic offered. The laughter was nervous. “Which, I mean. There’s not much you can do to keep me from coming back in, but– But if you really do ban me, or something, I guess I would stay away.”

Chica stared. Only then did she think to check Sonic's profile. She found that not even Sun had been good at keeping quiet about him, because there was a new public note, which had been added sometime around 11:38 PM:

• He has super speed! Don’t be surprised if he disappears and reappears somewhere else! He’s just doing something really cool!

Which, yes! It was really cool, and kept Chica from panicking about whether he’d climbed up the playstructure to get where he was that fast. But also, it got her looking through his guest profile, to see if there was anything else she’d missed. There was. Or, more accurately, there wasn’t . He didn’t have any guardians listed at all.

“Aren’t…” Chica took a couple of steps back. She wasn’t sure that would help. Now that she looked at it, Sonic still looked ready to dash past her somewhere even safer. “Isn’t whoever takes care of you worried?”

“Pfft. I take care of myself.” It seemed like the idea was ridiculous to him. “I ain’t a kid. I decide where I go and when I go there.”

“Oh.” That… didn’t sound right. It really didn’t. But Sonic sounded so confident in it that Chica couldn’t find it in herself to argue. 

“I mean. If you’re going to kick me out, you’re taking awfully long.”

And it was that moment that Chica sputtered, and she shook her head. “N-no!”

Sonic blinked. “No?”

Some part of her felt rightfully terrified at the idea of kicking out a kid with no parents. Even if Sonic seemed to apparently have everything covered, and seemed to be relatively fine. Another part of her just hadn’t wanted to kick him out to begin with. She’d come here hoping she would find nothing, after all. Hoping she could turn a blind eye. 

“I’m not going to kick you out, chickadee.” She offered. She pressed a finger against her beak. “In fact, I won’t tell anyone else! You have my word.”

Sonic blinked. “Uh, why?”

“Because, clearly, you’re having fun with Sunny!” She gestured at the abandoned Monopoly. “And Moon hasn’t kicked you out, yet. He’s probably the first person I would’ve expected to do that. But he hasn’t. So he trusts you. And that means I trust you too!”

“Oh.” Sonic smiled at that. In a flash, suddenly he was in front of Chica, beaming. “Cool, then! I was a bit worried there. But if you’re cool with me breaking in, I’m chill.”

“As long as you don’t get up to any trouble, I think it’s fine, chickadee.” Chica sat down, and tapped at her knee. “Just… don’t let any of the others see you, okay? I don’t know if they’ll be okay with this. They might be! They could be totally cool and happy with it! I’m just… not sure. You’ll be our little secret.”

Sonic stared. After a moment, he nodded, and then tossed a thumb over his shoulder. 

“Wanna play Monopoly with us?”

Chapter Text

“And this is Mazercise!”

Chica had “borrowed” Sonic for the night.

He wasn’t sure how that worked, exactly. She’d shown up and basically whisked him away before he entered the Daycare, claiming a wild variety of things but most importantly “come check out Mazercise!”. He couldn’t be mad at her. There was an almost desperate air about both her and Sun and Moon. He figured it was only fitting. They were made to entertain children day in and day out. The mall rested empty now, no one to visit. He was the closest thing they had to a kid, so might as well perform, right?

“What’s Mazercise, exactly?”

Chica went about merrily flicking on the lights, revealing a room scattered full of pretty decent… exercise equipment?

“It’s our gym here! Technically a fitness program.” Chica explained. Sonic nodded along, as Chica gestured around the room. “I run it.”

“You’re also the main advertiser for food.” Sonic pointed out.

“I can multitask.” Chica announced. “But I want to offer you an exclusive one-on-one workout with me! My treat!”

She’d thought he’d say no. She’d thought he’d go and say “a workout? No thanks.” And she had a whole plan around it. She was planning to hear his “no” and return with a race around Mazersice (bad idea now that she thought about it) and then she was going to take him down to her Cupcake Shoppe and power on one of the Staff Bots and let him order a custom made cupcake and–

“A workout?” Sonic clapped. He looked positively over the moon. “Heck yeah! Here? When do we start? Running is involved, right?”

Chica blinked. But she beamed, and rolled with it. “Sure! We’ve got a bunch to choose from. Here, let me show you!”

When Chica showed him the pamphlet with the options, Sonic picked out a workout, from the ones they had. Chica got the equipment, started the music, and they worked the night out.

And really, Chica had to admit. She hadn’t had that much fun in ages.

Chapter Text

“So.”

Foxy felt like he was scolding that rowdy bunch of scallywags in his crew. Considering the situation, and his occupation, it wasn’t pretty far off.

Sun shuffled his feet nervously. Chica barked a nervous laugh, shifting closer to Sun. The kid he couldn’t really see remained between them, hidden behind Chica’s cleverly positioned legs and Sun’s poofy pants. Just about anyone else wouldn’t have been hidden behind the lanky frame of the Daycare Attendant, but whoever it was that they were harboring was covered perfectly by the fabric.

“When was ye plannin’ t’ tell anyone about ‘em?” 

Sun and Chica exchanged glances. Picture perfect of a bunch of scallywags being told to fess up or walk the plank. Eventually, Sun seemed to gather his nerve, because he stepped forwards, ever so slightly, bells jingling, shifting in such a way that all Foxy saw of the kid were little perked ears before he was covered once again.

“Uh, well. Moon said… maybe it was best not to?” At the face Foxy must’ve made, Sun sputtered. “Because he’s not doing anything bad! He’s a nice kid and so obedient and all he’s really doing is having fun so Moon figured perhaps we should just not bother anyone about him because he’s really nice–have I mentioned he hasn’t broken any rules?–and we really don’t mind him being here–”

“Sun.” 

That shut the Daycare Attendant right up. Chica stepped up, but Foxy shut her up with a glance.

“Alright ye stowaway, come out ‘ere where I can get a good whiff o' ye.”

Chica turned to the kid, briefly. There was an uncertain look in her eyes mirrored in Sun’s posture, but after a second, she seemed to relent, because she stepped to the side.

The kid peeked out from behind Sun. It took a second’s delay, but in the bright lights of the Daycare, Foxy realized who it was.

Sonic.

“Sonic? What be ye doin' 'ere?” Foxy asked. He was… at a loss on the kid. Checking his profile revealed the addition of… an admittedly outrageous note about superspeed. “It be closed an' ye don't 'ave an entrance pass. Ye shouldn't be 'ere.”

“They were lonely.” He offered, as if that alone would manifest an entrance and VIP pass from nothing. “And I don’t have anything better to do. So. Here I am.”

“Ye was lonely.”

The deadpan tone didn’t get lost on them, it seemed. They both cringed, Chica’s face scrunching up, Sun’s posture crinkling up like a wrapper.

“The workers be still visitin'. Ye see them everyday . 'ow be ye lonely ?” 

Chica winced. “It’s not– It’s not the same as the children.”

And Foxy felt some of that anger melt right of him. Of course. It wasn’t the same as the children. It really wasn’t. Sure, the workers brought them things to do and it was a whole other experience to see them everyday and just… hang out , but they weren’t children. It was an essential part of their core directive missing, and looking at the kid…

“Well, I’m not a kid.” Sonic barked. But then he shrugged, all smiles. “But I don’t mind, if it helps you guys. I’m the one who screwed you over right now. And, again. I literally have nothing better to do.”

“‘ow did you ever get in?”

Sonic dismissed him with a wave. “Big. Hole. Hard to miss. Jumped on down. Pretty simple.”

At the horrified look that Foxy shot the others, they both shrugged helplessly. Evidently, he wasn’t the first to ask this question.

“Well then. Guess I will let ye stay.”

Foxy hurried to speak over the almost cheers that everyone started. “But! ye 'ave to promise that ye be goin' to keep yer good eye on 'im. If the others a whiff o' 'im–” 

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Chica and Sun chimed, simultaneously. 

Sonic chuckled. “Don’t worry so much, Ca– Captain. I can take care of myself. No one is going to even see me.”

“Super speed?”

“Super speed.”

“Very well then. If ye ‘ave got it covered.” Foxy nodded. He met Sun’s eyes, nodded, met Chica’s eyes, nodded, and then finally his gaze drifted down to Sonic. He held his hook out. “Now. Do ye want to check out Kid's Cove?”

Sonic beamed.

Chapter Text

“Like it up there?”

Foxy was really, really tempted to bring Sonic down. Problem was, he wasn’t sure how Sonic had even gotten on top of the buoy to begin with, but watching the kid cling to the metal bars around the lantern was sending all kinds of “child in danger” signals through Foxy’s systems.

“Yup.” Sonic swung, letting his arm pivot his weight as he leaned back towards the edge. “High vantage point. Kid’s Cove is… nice, I suppose.”

“Ye suppose?”

“I’m sure tons of people love it, but it’s too… water-themed, for my tastes.”

“Ye don’t like the ocean?” Foxy asked. It was… never something that had never crossed his mind. Most kids he saw were absolutely awestruck when presented with the idea of seeing a beach. They mostly hadn’t ever been to one, after all. “That be new.”

“I just don’t like any body of water big enough to drown in.”

“There be no water here.” Foxy offered.

“Still themed around it.”

Foxy hummed. After a moment’s hesitation, he added a note to Sonic’s guest profile:

• 'e doesn’t like big bodies o' water, or stuff in relation to the ocean, fer some reason. Just a 'eads up.

“Well, whaddya wanna do? Surely there’s somethin' 'ere that there be o' yer appeal.”

Foxy had invited the kid over to have fun , after all. Not to stress him out and have him hide at the top of the buoy the entire time he was in the room.

“I don’t know? What’s something pirate-y that doesn’t involve water?”

Foxy scrambled for a compromise. Because he didn’t want a child left out in his cove simply because of the imaginary concept of water. What was like an ocean? Vast and endless but decidedly lacking in water? 

“Well. 'ow about... we play sand pirates?”

Sonic stared. “Play. Sand pirates.”

“Like regularrr pirates, but in a desert instead.”

There was something off about Sonic’s expression, as he regarded Foxy. “That’s play pretend."

“Aye, it be.” 

“That’s for little kids.” Sonic returned, in a tone that seemed to insist he was decidedly not a little kid. “I’m not playing pretend.”

“That be mostly what we do 'ere.” 

“Not a little kid.” Sonic spat, and swung around again. “I don’t know. Can’t we like, talk, or something? You’ve got good stories, right? Tell me one.”

“Ye sure?”

“Yeah. It would be neat to hear someone’s stories for once.” Sonic returned. He tossed his head back, lifted his legs up and wrapped them around the pole, leaning back and resting his head against the edge of the buoy. “So… you got one?”

“Aye! O' course I 'ave one.” Even after offering the idea himself, Sonic didn’t seem as excited as he had been upon first hearing about the cove. But Foxy obliged. “'Ow about... when I gathered me crew to best the foul beast threatenin' the integrity o' our master plan?”

“Sure!”

And so Foxy told a story. And then Sonic shared such a wild collection of tales in return that Foxy couldn’t help but doubt their authenticity. But they got the kid excited, and he looked… marginally happier than he had when he’d first come in, so Foxy would count it as a win.

He’d figure out something else the kid would like later. After all, it seemed like he would keep coming back.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this?”

Moon nodded. Sonic trailed after him with light steps, noiseless against the ground. They’d taken mostly utility tunnels to get here, although Sonic had expressed an interest in navigating the actual Pizzaplex.

Not yet. Moon had said. Because everyone kept finding out, and he was starting to worry that someone would find out and actually do as Moon should’ve done. Flag Sonic for breaking in, and dish out corresponding punishment. What if it was weird, that Sonic kept coming back, and they all looked forward to it? It was fine, this time. They were safe. There wasn’t a danger in the Plex. And if Sonic kept sneaking in, and if they couldn’t just stop him… well. They could just… enjoy him being here.

And well. Moon really, really didn’t want to keep that from someone he knew he could trust.

He pushed the door open with only a slight jingling of his bells. Sonic darted under his arm and past him, contemplating the supplies closet they had just stepped into. The other doorway, the one that led out to their destination, wasn’t covered by a door, rather, hidden behind velvety pink curtains.

Moon strolled over, and pulled the curtains aside, squinting at the bright lights on the other side. The closet was dark, because it was unused, and because, really, this wasn’t the first time he had shown up here.

“Ballora?”

There was a moment. Only the soft notes of a music box drifted through the air, and Sonic squirmed beneath Moon to step into the room, darting under the red stanchion to behold the shinned, wooden floors, and big, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling mirrors framed in blue curtains.

“Moon!” 

And there she was. The lights flicked out, and Ballora appeared from behind the stage set on the left wall, where she had been hidden by the curtains around it. She was smiling, eyes instinctually moving to land on the entrance of the closet. But she halted halfway through the room, eyes instead landing on Sonic, wide.

Sonic just waved. “What’s up?”

“Oh my–” Ballora contemplated Sonic, and then she turned to Moon, more curious than anything as he stepped past the curtain. “Who’s this?”

What’s he doing here? Went unspoken.

“This is Sonic. He’s been visiting.” Moon offered with a shrug. Sonic was busy, staring at himself in one of the mirrors, contemplating his glowing green eyes, and Moon couldn’t help but find it adorable that he was just about as tall as the ballet barre. “He’s the one who helped clear out the atrium.”

“Really?” Ballora turned to Sonic, and his eyes drifted up to her own in the reflection of the mirror. “Thank you, dear.”

“S’ no biggie.” Sonic returned. He grabbed at the ballet barre basically above his head, and leaned backwards, head upside down. “I was just cleaning up after myself.”

Ballora cast Moon a worried glance. “Cleaning up…”

“He says it's his fault. Somehow.” Not that Moon knew how. Or that he was keen on Sonic telling everyone about it. Because he found it hard to believe it was true, even though Sonic seemed convinced it was.

“Who’re you?” Sonic cut in. Somehow, in that short time, he’d wrapped his knees around the bar, and now he was drifting his fingers against the floor as he dangled upside down. “All that Moon would say is that you’re a friend.”

“Oh!” And Ballora drifted over, with all that grace unique to her. “I’m Ballora. I run the dance studio here.”

“Neat!” Sonic chuckled. “They have ballet classes here? I’d tell Cream, but she can’t exactly bolt over here whenever she feels like.”

“And… might I ask what you’re doing here?”

Sonic shrugged. A gesture that was almost lost as he dangled upside down. “Dunno. Moon and Sun said they were lonely. And then Chica was lonely too. And then I think Foxy is lonely as well. So… I guess I’m here to keep everyone from getting lonely. S’ kinda on me that everyone is like that to begin with.”

“Lonely?” Ballora questioned. It was but a concerned whisper as her eyes drifted to Moon, who looked away almost sheepishly.

“Code.” Was what he supplied.

Ah.

“Then… I assume… given I haven’t heard anything about this.” Ballora hummed. “That we’re keeping this a secret.”

Sonic unhooked his knees, transitioning into handstand, one leg bent close to his chest and the other stretched out far. “That’s what I understood, yes. Moon said I’d get banned.”

“Yes, I believe that is the rule.” Ballora hummed. “It was because…”

“A boy got stuck after hours and his life was at risk.” Moon stressed. “It’s to dissuade kids or anyone else from staying after hours just because. Only exceptions are legitimately getting stuck. Sonic here–”

“You’ve been sneaking in.” Ballora determined.

“Yup.”

Ballora turned to Moon. She scanned him up and down, expression unreadable. “I assume you’re okay with this, then?”

“I… don’t have the power to authorize it. But the sentiment is there.” Moon offered.

“Very well then.” Ballora turned to Sonic. Sonic flipped himself back up right, offering a small smile, which she returned tenfold. “If Moon trusts you, then I trust you as well.” 

 “Cool!” Sonic exclaimed. He did a mock twirl which ended in a deep bow. “At your service then. If you’re feeling lonely, or whatever, I’m here.” 

Ballora giggled. A thing filled with mirth, and she turned to regard her dance studio, offering Sonic a smile. “Then, since you are here… care to join me for a dance?”

“Sure!”

Chapter Text

Moon had left. Mostly because his hourly patrol had rolled around, and apparently someone had been pinging him to come check out something.

So it was just Sonic, and Ballora, and the classical ballet music playing through the speakers as Sonic watched Ballora twirl and dance.

“You’re really good.” Sonic offered. While he didn’t know much about robots, he knew enough to recognize the fluidity in Ballora’s movements as impressive. Even Metal Sonic–aka Eggman’s best creation–didn’t have such graceful movements. Granted, that might’ve been the bot’s own choice in movement, but still. And Ballora could leap and land just as gracefully as a professional dancer could!

“Thank you, dear.” The music reached an end, and Ballora stopped along with it, a graceful bow marking the end of her performance. Suddenly, Sonic could imagine her performing for a bunch of little kiddos, all eager and awestruck by her dance, and then showing them the trick of the trade so they could dance that way as well.

Which is why it didn’t surprise him when…

“Do you want to learn?”

Sonic chuckled. He pushed himself off where he had been sitting on the bare, and after a few experimental hops, he pulled what he hoped was a pretty decent imitation of a ballerina’s spin. Then he did a leap, and just for kicks and giggles, he dropped down into a split, getting back up with mock gracefulness and doing jazz hands. 

“I’m pretty agile already, I think.” He offered. Ballora was clapping politely, eyes alight with excitement and joy. “Besides, I don’t really do ballet, when it comes to dancing.”

“Oh?” And Ballora seemed so genuinely interested. “What kind of dance do you prefer?”

“Here, lemme show you!” So interested. So interested that Sonic couldn’t help but offer, even if he never really did, pulling out his dingy phone and cranking up the volume on it as high as it would go, rushing to select a song that he could maybe dance to. Once he was done he placed it on the floor, rushing to get some ways away so he wouldn’t send it flying with a kick.

And then? Then he started breakdancing.

It wasn’t even all complex moves. He actually hadn’t ever really stopped and just… danced, before. Most moves were his attacks more than anything, the only time he used them high in the heat of battle. Going through a full song, not just five seconds, for kicks was… a different kind of exhilarating.

The song ended, and he flipped out of a spin into a backflip, landing easily. An exaggerated bow was the cherry on the top, and when he looked up, he beamed.

Ballora looked blown away.

“You dance so well!” She congratulated.

Sonic chuckled, and scratched at the back of his head sheepishly. “Thanks. S’ really not much though. I don’t dance often.”

“You should.” She encouraged, strolled forwards, and kneeled down in front of him. He met her eyes and he swore she was… proud?

“You’re really very good. I always love to see when someone does what they enjoy. You looked so happy there.”

Proud. She was proud.

Sonic stuttered. “U-uh, yeah. I–”

How does he answer that? How the heck does he answer that? People— People shouldn’t–

They shouldn’t be proud of him.

“I like moving, I guess.” He offered eventually.

Ballora smiled. “That’s really nice.” And then, after a pause. “Oh! Have you met Chica yet? I’m sure she would love to see you dance. She’s always had a liking for the more wild styles out there.”

“I– Yeah! I’ve met her! She can probably come over, I’ll show her.”

Ballora was proud.

He kinda liked how it felt.

Chapter Text

Roxy had the best eyes in the building.  

Simple as that. She could see where everyone was, at any time. Nothing got away from her easily. It’s why after Nett and Marry, and Moonman, she was best suited for the role of security.

And it's why she was waiting here, today, arms crossed as she beheld the atrium.

She wasn’t waiting long. That little ping that had been popping up, in the edges of her vision, over the past week and a half or so, popped up once again, and stepping out from behind the photo booth, she saw him.

Mobian. A child. She started a scan, to try and figure out who it even was.

A pair of emerald green eyes turned to her, and next thing she knew, the kid bolted.

“Hey!” She roared. A blink and the next and they were on the other side of the atrium, looking at her like a deer caught in the headlights, despite having put so much distance between them in such little time. She started towards them. “You’re trespassing, kid!”

“I know!” They called back. 

She didn’t want to run, for fear of them bolting again, but the distance between them was ridiculous. At least they seemed content to wait.

“It’s not safe here. You should go home.”

“I know.” They called back, again. The way they regarded her was much too calm, and she realized too late that he could still run when he disappeared again upon her drawing nearer.

“Over here!”

She looked over. They were hovering near the entrance of Kid’s Cove, a smirk on their face, beckoning her closer. “Come on! Aren’t you supposed to be the fast one here?”

Oh. Oh. They wanted a race? Fine. Roxy would give them a race.

“Come here you little gerbil!” And Roxy lunged. They danced out of the way of her reach, vaulting past her and sliding under the barely opened shutter for Kid’s Cove, which had begun its accent upon Roxy getting close.

She bolted over, and gripped the still rising edges, hefting it up high enough she could duck beneath with a growl.

It revealed an empty Kid’s Cove, with no one to be seen amidst the pirate decor, except for a fox that looked up from where he was no doubt “swabbing the deck”.

“Foxy!” She called.

The pirate looked up, tilting his head in greeting. “Ahoy. What be ye doin' 'ere?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Because there was no way the kid had slipped past Foxy, not with the pirate standing smack dab in the middle of the room. “The kid, where did he go?”

“Sprog?” Foxy stared. “What sprog?”

“The one that ducked under the shutter? ” Roxy gestured. “The mobian? Bright blue, not easy to miss? The one that shouldn’t be here?”

“I don't know what ye be blabberin' ‘bout.” Foxy put down the mop, carefully. He stared at her as if she’d blown a few wires. “We be closed, Roxy. There can't be a kid 'ere.”

“That’s exactly why I need to find him!” Roxy stressed. She spared a glance around the room, squinting to try and see if she could see anything out of place. “It’s dangerous and it’s late, and he shouldn’t be here.”

Too late she saw something. A ping in her hud, a moon and sun icon, combined into one. She looked up, spun around with wide eyes, just in time to see Sun lower himself beside the shutter, flicking the little switch at the very top and locking it in its current position.

Closed.

“Sorry, Roxy, can’t have you leaving right now.” Sun apologized, ever as energetic. He hovered above the shutter, clinging to his wire, no doubt very perceptive of the fury shining in Roxy’s eyes. “We… we kinda need you to promise you won’t ping anyone about the kid.”

“What.”

“Ye said it yerself.” Foxy called. Roxy whirled on him, but he held her glare. ” 'e's not supposed to be 'ere.”

“Where is he?”

“Promise you won’t ping first, Ms. Roxy!” Sun called, flinching away when Roxy whirled on him once again with her glare.

“ Fine. ” She spat.

Sun drifted over to where Foxy was, lowering himself to the ground. Before detaching his wire however, he looked up, and it took Roxy a second to realize why when the kid came sliding down the rope as if it was a fireman’s pole.

Evidently, Foxy hadn’t actually known where the kid had been hiding, because he startled, hard. “That be not safe!”

“Get him down!” Roxy yelped.

The kid just laughed, as with a single swing they sent themself somersaulting over Sun’s head and landing with a flourish, ignoring the fact that Sun had been raising his hands to help them off.

“It’s the only thing I could think off.” Sun tried to defend, meekly. He unlatched the cable, and it ascended off into the ceiling. 

The kid smirked. “Was my idea. Don’t get mad at him.”

And finally, finally , Roxy was able to get a good scan of them. The moment their profile turned up, her eyes widened.

“ You’re the kid.”

“The one that busted the bots and the ceiling in the process?” Sonic offered, with a laugh. “Yup. The one and only. Nice to meet you.”

Roxy shook her head. “What’s he doing here?” Fixed her gaze on him. “What are you doing here?”

Both Foxy and Sun exchanged glances. 

“Keeping us company.” They answered simultaneously.

“Us.” Roxy stared. “I assume “us” is not just you two.”

“Nope!” Sonic answered for them. “It’s Sun, Moon, Chica, Foxy, and most recently Ballora.”

“Oh my faz coins.” Roxy groaned. She rubbed her face and gave Sun and Foxy a deadpan. “This has been happening for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Aye.” Foxy informed. “Don't even ask 'ow 'e's gettin' in, we've asked an' 'e won't elaborate.”

“I have explained!” Sonic defended. “Through the hole! In the ceiling! What is there not to get?”

Roxy wasn’t sure if it was alarm or confusion or a concoction of both that resulted in a deadpan that kept her voice so flat. “The how you get down? ”

“I jump! How else? ”

Roxy could pinpoint the exact moment both Foxy and Sun dismissed the red flags that statement raised. She could, because she dismissed them too, the complete lack of worry from the kid being the only thing that convinced her to do so.

“I… I encouraged him to stay, Roxy.” Sun explained, meekly, as if fessing up. “Me and Moony. He’s just so nice and you know… it’s awfully lonely here. You know how I mean.”

Stupid jester and being right. Of course Roxy knew exactly what he meant. Of course it made sense apparently half the Pizzaplex was trying to smuggle a child. Because what if one of them didn’t get it? Not likely, but possible. What if one of them didn’t get the itch in their code to fulfill the need to entertain children?

Except that itch could be sinister, so easily. They all knew.

“What if it isn’t safe here?” Was what she wound up asking.

Sonic scoffed as if the notion was outlandish. “I can take all of you at once.”

“He can!” Sun offered, eagerly. Stressed as well, because he was wringing his hands together hard enough to get squeaks from the rubber pads. “He’s told me all sorts of wonderful stories. I… I believe them.”

Roxy scowled. But she couldn’t dispute, not when the kid had taunted her as she chased basically after him at full speed.

“Fine.” She eventually huffed. She pointed at Foxy. “I bet you’ve been keeping tabs on him, no?”

Sonic rolled his eyes, muttered something along the lines of “I am right here.” Foxy just nodded. “Aye. If no one be responsible about this here, then at least I can keep them accountable fer it.”

Roxy nodded. “Then keep a tab: Me and the kid are about to have a night out.”

Sonic blinked. “We are?”

“Of course we are!” Roxy laughed. “How would you like to see the raceway, kid?”

Chapter Text

Roxy had never tugged on the steering wheel that hard. She never had. Sure, she loved to say the pups that wound up in her raceway all had the souls of racers, but they didn’t quite pose a challenge to her. Most races were her keeping to the front of the pack and sneaking glances back to see the kiddos have fun. On some occasions, some hardcore, faithful fans of the raceway would give her a run for her money. It would be close, but she would come out on top. 

Because this was her Raceway, and she was always the champion here.

Except that now–

Sonic blasted past her, swerving like his life depended on it and hard enough to send red flags flying up that she promptly ignored. She wouldn’t have ever taken a turn that hard. He took it like it was the only way to. She was already stepping on the gas as hard as she could, to get back up to speed, but by now she was more than certain that Sonic kept his foot on the gas pedal the entire time. The only thing helping her here was that the go-kart was just a bit too big for him, and that this was her turf.

“Get back here!” She howled.
He cackled, and leaned forwards. He was already going as fast as he could though, and even then, she got the impression he was leaning on the gas pedal as if he could somehow go faster. “Nuh-uh! I’ve never lost a race and I don’t plan to start now!”

He’d taken a yellow go-kart. She’d thought he’d go for blue. Or for red. But instead he’d stepped into the raceway, eyes full of wonder at the prospect of a race, of a full racetrack within the pizzaplex, and upon realizing that the go-karts came in different colors, he’d beelined for a yellow one in the back. Her best guess was because it was themed around Sun, covered in sun icons and sparkles and white and red lines. The spot in his profile dedicated to his favorite character was empty, though, so she wasn’t quite certain.

Hers, of course, was the stellar purple one themed around herself. Her lucky go-kart. Which felt awfully lucky right now.

Because when has she ever had such a fit challenger?

Coming into the last turn on the track, she knew she wouldn’t be able to catch up before he blasted past the finish line and won the race, so of course, she decided to play risky. She always played risky after hours, and usually it was when Kevin wasn’t here to scold her as well. Like… right now. So with a jank on the steering wheel she turned the opposite way of the turn, reaching out powerful legs and pushing off the ground with enough force to clear the railing, just as he righted himself out that ridiculously narrow turn of the final spiral. She landed just in front of him, giving a kick as he cried “hey, that’s cheating!” to get back up to speed.

And the winner was–

“Tie!” The speakers declared, like every last race. The cheering crowd sound that was usually lost beneath the actual cloud filled the empty space, as both go-karts automatically began slowing down. “The winners are: Roxanne Wolf– and Sonic the Hedgehog!”

She’d barely managed to convince him to log in with his guest profile so she could save the race records. She was glad she did. Hearing: Guest! Over and over would have been grating.

He cheered. No frustration at her supposedly cheating was anywhere to be found, as he hopped out of the go-kart and did a short victory dance. She laughed as well, getting out of the go-kart and strolling over, placing her hands on her hips and peering down at him with a smirk as he got up.

“You’re good, kid.” She congratulated. Not for the first time that night.

“I’m the Fastest Thing Alive!” He returned, with a laugh. Also not for the first time that night. “Of course I’m good at racing!”

“Yeah, yeah.” She smirked, flicked her hair. “Not as good as me! ”

He smirked right back, hoping up onto the go-kart. “Wanna test that? Your luck won’t hold out forever!”
She kneeled down to him, smirk still in place, challenging glare playful, noses almost touching. “You’re on.”

Chapter Text

Chica had noticed something off about Sonic today.

It was hard, given that their sensors just… really didn’t like reading Mobian body language or facial expressions clearly. All she could really interpret clearly were his speech patterns and the tone of his voice, which… had really all been sugar sweet excitement for as far as she had known him.

He’d developed a bit of… a schedule, to spend time with all of them. Chica wasn’t sure if it had been his idea, Sun’s compulsive organizing, or Foxy’s desire to keep an eye on him, but somehow it had happened. Typically he started his night with Sun and Moon, then Moon dropped him off with Ballora, who then lent him to Chica, and then she brought him to Roxy’s Raceway, where she was pretty sure Nett was going to catch him at some point because despite Roxy’s insistence, they could only have so many races before someone noticed the raceway was in constant use. Apparently the kid didn’t like the ocean much, so he never stopped at Kid’s Cove. Foxy just compromised by visiting him in the Daycare.

And well, that routine happened just as usual today! Really, Chica wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual… If she hadn’t grown used to his constant chatter.

He was quiet today. Way more than usual. He was still sugar-happy, but he didn’t speak without prompting. Stepping out into the bright halls, as she promised him a cupcake, he was especially quiet. She didn’t need body recognition to see the way he looked at every light as if it would jump at him, the way he flinched at any sound that was just a bit too loud, too fast.

Which was… a lot of sounds in the Pizzaplex.

He looked… overwhelmed.

She realized that walking him all the way down to Cupcake Shoppe, amidst all the noises and bright lights all trying to tear your attention one way or another probably… wasn’t a good idea. He was still cheerful as ever, but given that it was a drastic enough change in behavior that she noticed… She’d feel better if she could give him some time to relax. Somewhere that wasn’t actively trying to tear his attention every which way when his attention span seemed to be so frayed already.

She’d pinged Sunny, had told him she was going to bring Sonic back to the Daycare. Sunny had returned with an alarmed no, because apparently Bonnie and Monty had picked then to go and check in on him and Moony.
But she desperately needed to get Sonic out of the main atrium and just places with bright, flashing fancy lights in general. So…

“We’re going to meet someone new.” She told Sonic, softly, so as to not startle him.

He still turned to her. Perhaps his eyes were too wide? It was hard to tell. “Oh, who? Shouldn’t we ask Foxy first?”

“I pinged him already.” Chica assured, and sent Foxy a ping right then and there begging for forgiveness, because it was way easier to do that than ask for permission. Then she sent someone else a ping, explaining the situation and begging, begging that they didn’t ping anyone else.

Then she led Sonic down the hall, feeling guilty every moment she saw his attention snap to something else with alarm, until they were in front of the place.
“Here we are!” She offered, happily.

Sonic turned to it, looked up at the sign, and then at the opaque doors that didn’t betray what was inside. “Cosmo’s… Nest?”

“Yeah!” She assured him, and stepped up to the doors. She pushed them open. Inside was the calm and cozy atmosphere of the Nest, which she hoped would be leagues better than the hectic Pizza Plex. 

Sonic strolled in, curiously. Chica followed, looking up in time to see her object of interest appear from another section of the Nest. She met Cosmo’s eyes, and they met hers. The gaze told her “we’ll speak later” in a tone she was kinda scared off, but then they were smiling at Sonic, who had noticed them and offered a wave.
“Are you who Chica told us we would meet?” Sonic asked, with a smile.
Chica shut the door behind her. The sounds of the Pizzaplex drifted off to nothing.

“Indeed I am.” Cosmo offered, beak quirking in a smile. They approached, gesturing to one of the many soft chairs scattered around the cozy tree-themed lounge. “My name is Cosmo. They/them, please. You are?”

Chica saw the moment Cosmo tried to run a scan, failed, tried again, and failed. Apparently, their scanners had an even worse time when it came to mobians. She pinged them Sonic’s guest profile just as the kid plopped himself down in a seat and answered.
“Sonic’s the name, speed’s my game.” He said, with a soft chuckle. Looked so tiny in the human-sized furniture. “I use he/him.”
“Wonderful.” Cosmo smiled, and sat down next to him. Not across. Across could feel intimidating sometimes. Like an interrogation rather than a conversation. Next to was safer, warmer, but also, Cosmo kept their distance. Checking the notes on the kid’s guest profile revealed his adversity to touch. That, and given what they did know…

“Aren’t you the little guy who saved everyone a few weeks back?” They asked.
Sonic snorted. “I got here late, bud. I just cleaned up the rubble a bit. But yeah, that’s me!” A pause. “And I’m not a kid. Seriously. I know I’m small, but not a kid.”

Chica would like to disagree. Foxy and Roxy probably did. Judging from the way that Cosmo shifted, they would like to disagree too. But Sonic kept saying it, actually. Over and over, whenever someone called him a kid.

• He doesn’t like being called a kid. I don’t know why. It worries me.

She added it to the public notes. Sure, their main job was entertaining kids, but really, their top priority was ensuring their safety. This… This kind of felt like a safety issue.

“What are you doing here so late, little fledgling?” Cosmo asked, softly. “Did you miss the Plex that badly?”

Sonic snorted. Didn’t immediately answer. Sat there, looking down as he swung his legs. Already his attention wasn’t jumping around from one place to the other. Less jumpy, less hectic. Still a bit quiet. Chica didn’t want to force him to speak, and she wouldn’t, but Cosmo had asked an important question that needed to be answered lest they blow their cover.

“He’s keeping us company.” Chica explained, walking over and settling in a chair nearby. “You know. Because being shut down, and there not being any kids… it's hard sometimes.”

Sonic nodded, at that.

Cosmo hummed. “Want anything, little fledgling? There’s some apple juice, we have some fidget toys…”

Sonic just kept staring down at his legs. There was a small smile on his face, so that was a bit of reassurance for Chica. Eventually, he shrugged. “S’alright.”

It wasn’t a yes. But it also wasn’t a no. And Chica was starting to think that they wouldn’t get much of a yes from him, if they offered. She hadn’t even told him about the cupcake she was planning to give him today. She had asked if he had wanted one every night before, and despite looking very tempted by the idea, he’d always said no. Just no no no. And it was worry worry worry. It seemed he only ever really said yes to spending time with them, because they kind of needed him.

But maybe she had it all wrong.
She pinged Cosmo about getting him some fidget toys regardless. Cosmo got up without protest, and they returned with a box covered in all sorts of switches and buttons, and one of those little water-oil toys that had some sort of track inside for the oil, which one could watch for hours on end. They placed them in front of Sonic, and Sonic looked up, offered a confused smile, but then took the box within the next minute and began pressing the life out of it.

He seemed a lot more at ease.

Why is he actually here? Cosmo pinged her, then, as they let the silence drift on and only the calm music of their Nest fill it.

In your Nest? Chica asked.

Yes. Cosmo pinged back. I believe you about why he’s in the Plex. You guys have been acting odd, but again, we’ve all chalked it up to you know… boredom.

Us? Chica managed.
You, Sun, Moon, and Roxy, mainly. Cosmo shrugged.

Chica tapped her fingers against the soft pillow, noiselessly. He looked stressed. Monty and Bonnie are with Sunny right now, so I couldn’t bring him back to the Daycare. Your lounge seemed like the next best thing.

Cosmo nodded, subtly. They didn’t exchange any more messages after that. Sonic seemed absorbed in the silence, and between the clicky box and watching the oil roll down its track, he seemed, from what Chica could tell, far more at ease.

And that was great, she figured.

I assume I’ve sworn into secrecy just meeting him, no? Cosmo asked.

…Yeah.

Cosmo shook their head. If he’s going to be coming here, for this, he should meet the others. I don’t think… if you’re breaking the rules, everyone might as well benefit from it.

Chica looked down. But what if…

Chica. It’d be safer if everyone knew about him. It doesn’t have to be now, and not all at once if you don’t think he can’t manage, but they have to know, eventually.

Chica didn’t reply to that. But she knew Cosmo was right.

Chapter Text

Cosmo didn’t expect to find Sonic in their Nest.

They knew the kid had gone “missing”. They’d been pinged at least once by everyone that knew about Sonic, asking if they had seen him. They’d replied no, because at that time, they hadn’t. They weren’t even sure if the others were even sure if the kids was in the Plex. From what they could understand, the kid came and went as he so pleased, and he could have easily just chosen not to come for one day.

But then they noticed one of the bean bags looked… oddly lumpy. And usually they wouldn’t have bothered to check but…
“H-Heya!”
The kid was blinking up at them with a… smile? Their scanners really didn’t want to cooperate with them. But the kid sounded a bit startled, as Cosmo held up the beanbag above him, and they couldn’t fathom why he was here, hiding in their Nest.

Or well…
They set down the beanbag beside him. Offered a soft smile. “Hello, fledgling. Are you okay?”

Sonic snorted. Scrambled to his feet, tried to hide something behind his back. “Yup! Perfectly fine! Sorry, it was just really cozy down there and…”
A tiny light. It was one of those keychain flashlights that guests lost so often. A battered pack of crayons like those handed out at El Chip’s. And a wrinkly coloring sheet stained with something, like it’d been pulled out of an old book, or a trash can.

Oh.

Sonic was still talking. Cosmo realized that… that he’d been in here for a reason. Probably the same reason that Chica had brought him over last time. Because the rest of the Pizzaplex wasn’t something he was in the mood for right now, maybe not even something he could handle. Maybe he’d already been here, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to just… leave. From what Cosmo had seen from him, he didn’t seem like a kid to just leave people out to dry, regardless of if it lacked ill intentions.

A thousand scenarios ran through their head. Sonic was still talking. Something about getting carried away and being lost and a frankly very clear lie. Like he didn’t want Cosmo to know how he ended up beneath a bean bag in their Nest, essentially hiding from everyone that knew him.

And Cosmo… well, Cosmo knew what to do.

“Sonic.” They cut in. Sonic paused mid-sentence, and tilted his head. They couldn’t read his body language at all, couldn’t verify their theory with any evidence, but just based on what they knew…

“It’s okay if you just want a break.” They told him, and gestured for him to follow. Drifted towards a corner of the room, where there was an area with more bean bag chairs, and arranged them closer together on top of the rug. They gestured for him to wait, before drifting off and returning with some apple juice and some brand of chips that they knew to be far healthier than others. They placed them down for him, and turned to offer a smile.

“You can stay here as long as you want.” They reassured. Sonic stayed put, watching them, and they couldn’t tell why he would hesitate. It was frustrating, not being able to communicate properly.

“We all get tired sometimes.” They continued. “We all want some alone time once in a while. It’s alright. I won’t tell the others you’re here. I won’t bother you unless you want me to stay with you. You can rest.”

Sonic just stayed there, face frustratingly a mystery to them. They figured, maybe, Sonic really did just need that alone time so… after offering one more last smile, they left.

And later, if they peeked in for a second, just to check if Sonic had left, and they saw him peacefully working on the coloring page… Well. They considered their efforts successful.

Chapter Text

Roxy noticed Sonic looking at the salon.

It was a hard thing to notice. She felt quite proud of herself for noticing, actually, but she noticed. Despite all the barriers they faced. It was in the way he stopped, in the way he lingered, physical location and verbal silence when they walked past the salon to get to the race track. When she’d first given him a tour of the place, she’d mentioned the salon in passing–their goal then had been racing.

But clearly, what it was about must’ve stuck out to Sonic, because he lingered and watched and considered and never acted, no, he never acted. Roxy gave him excuses, gave him ins and all manner of cues to prompt her, to ask, but he never took them. Not even the one time she said she had to go in to fetch something–he didn’t follow her.

So Roxy was done dancing around the issue.
Especially when Sonic “wandered off” and in her search for him she found him standing outside the doors of the salon.

“You wanna go in or not, kid?”

Sonic flinched. Turned to her. She got that much. He seemed to look between her and the door, and when he didn’t give her an immediate answer, she huffed, strolled passed, and shoved the doors open.
“Come in.” She offered, except she barked it to basically be an order, because she had no faith that he’d come in otherwise.

He did, in fact, attempt to linger outside. But after a moment, he strolled in after her.

“I was just looking.” He tried, tone sheepish.

“You’ve been “just looking” for an hour.” Roxy returned, with a huff, and gestured around. “I know, it’s awesome. What is it that caught your eye?”

Sonic made a noise that Roxy wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. She looked at him, and found his attention bouncing between the hair salon and the make up stations, and to the very back area they’d added just recently, for parties that wanted to rent out the salon and wanted an extra special makeover, clothes included. Roxy was pretty sure it hadn’t gotten to debut before the accident.

“It’s, uh…” He sounded… embarrassed. Roxy, the longer she watched him, was starting to think she might know what the problem was. She’d had this talk with enough little boys and parents and Karens to know where the train of thought was probably heading.

“Boys can do make-up as well.” Roxy told him, out of the get go. “Anyone who says otherwise is full of faz-trash.”

Sonic jolted. Snorted. “No, not, it’s not… It’s not that. I know make-up’s fine, I do it myself sometimes, I just…”

He drifted off. Roxy tried giving him time, she really did, but after a full two minutes of waiting, it was clear he wouldn’t continue unless prompted. She sighed. Gestured for him to follow.
“You can tell me about it over a makeover.” Roxy decided.

Sonic followed after her. “A makeover?”

“On the house.” Roxy assured. “By yours truly. Staff bots usually do ‘em but I can do it better than them. Come on. On the chair. I’ll bring out the book with the ideas and you can tell me what you want. You need to learn how to take nice things.”

Sonic hopped onto one of the kart shaped chairs in front of the mirror. It spun a bit at the movement, and briefly Roxy actually considered getting the booster seats meant for the smallest kids, because he was tiny . She didn’t get to decide on that, or even move to retrieve the book, because Sonic picked up one of the eyeshadow pallets that had been left on the table, and sighed. Turned to her.

“I– I’d love to, but Roxy, you can’t. ”

“Is it an issue with your parents?” Roxy asked, trying to figure out what the problem was. “You can just wipe it off before you leave, we can take a picture and you can keep it–”

“Parents?” Sonic sounded honestly affronted. “I don’t have parents, no. The issue is this makeup doesn’t work on mobians. ”

Roxy had to sort through rounds of alerts triggered by the statement to even make sense of it. To process the tone of it, to even begin considering formulating a reply to it.

Sonic’s profile had no guardians listed. It had been a nagging void of information. No known guardians. He’d made it himself, Mr. Watkins had allowed for the voids of info, it was probably fine, maybe, except that now the information autofilled, No Parents, and with no known guardians–
She had to dismiss five different prompts to call the police, child protective services, some form of authority to handle the issue of a child in danger.

She dismissed them. Added a note to Sonic’s profile, for whoever the next person to interact with him was:

• He’s an orphan. Don’t blow it out of the water yet. We don’t know enough. Something isn’t right.

The responsible thing would have been to call, yes, it should have been, but she knew, already, it would be a breach of trust. She knew they already suspected it, what parents would let their kid come here, this late, what parents would be okay with their son running around catering to robots when it was clear he didn’t have the best history with them?

No parents.

And his tone of voice… It was what made her truly stay her hand. 

He didn’t care. The focus of the conversation was not his parents. It was nothing more than a passing comment in his eyes. His true frustration was with the makeup.

She’d… focus on that, for now.

“What do you mean?” She finally managed to press.

He looked at the makeup pallet. Spun around in the chair, grabbed an eyeshadow brush, and demonstrated by popping open the pallet, picking up some pigment, and trying to apply it to his arm.

It barely showed. It stuck and clumped on the short fur, and understanding dawned on her.

“I’ve been… I’ve been looking.” Sonic managed, admitted. “I wanted to ask but… you don’t… none of the products you have here would work for mobians. Nail polish, maybe, but you gotta understand that bare hands are kinda… frowned upon… it’s not wrong but it’s… y’know. Not that okay. Kinda like a human man walking around with his shirt off. It’s not super wrong but… gives off the wrong vibes. I don’t have fingerless gloves handy either. Hair dye doesn’t work on quills, makeup procedures are different… you can’t , Roxy. You can’t do anything here.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage. Ignorance, was what it was, and she was filled with a frustration like no other. 

Mr. Watkins was a very hard working man. She didn’t fault him. But it was wrong beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was any chance that a mobian child could have come, to her salon , had come with hopes and dreams, and might have been denied service simply because the products weren’t right. They had plenty of different makeup brands for anyone who had allergies, products for every shade of skin tone out there, wigs which they provided free of charge when the situation called for it– And it had taken painstaking years of her doing research, submitting requests, fighting for her salon, for her children–

And now she found out she’d missed a whole thousands of children despite her best efforts, children who no doubt already would have been feeling out of place here. Her salon could have been the final nail in the coffin to a child’s ruined day. 

…it was failing a child, right now.

“I… I apologize.” She managed, after a moment. Sonic was watching her, she took the pallet from his hands and scanned it, scanned the brand, considered it before setting it down. “I… This salon is supposed to be a place for everyone, and you’re… It’s unfair that it’s failing you.”

Sonic tilted his head. She couldn’t tell what his expression was. But his voice was soft. “Roxy…”

“You said you do makeup?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me your favorite brands.” She decided, dragging over one of the chairs that were made for her and sitting down. “However many. And any others you know that accommodate mobians. The best ones. I don’t care how high-end you think they are. And any other beauty and cultural standards you know of.”

Sonic didn’t immediately respond. He was regarding her, that was her guess, before he chuckled, and spun the chair around to face her. “Are you… trying to make the salon cater towards mobians?”

She nodded. “No one’s getting left out, not here, not if I have any say about it. I’ve already fought tooth and nail for this place, and I’m not stopping until it's perfect.”

She couldn’t be quite sure, but… she figured, maybe… he was smiling.

“Here.” He offered, and hopped off his own chair, pushed it out of the way, and reached over, tugging her to be in front of the mirror with surprising strength. “How about we talk about it over a makeover?”

Oh, she didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking.

“I like the way you think, kid.”

For now, this would do.