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borrelia · 1 year

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hmmmm not sure if i will add to this part or start a new one between this and the last one i had planned; i kind of like where it leaves off but theres some beats i still want to hit.

anyway heres about 3000 words of pt 4 of my silly little fleetway super sonic storey. prev part here, first two parts here

Rejoining a whole.

A cacophonous roar filled Super’s ears. A chaotic mess of his buzzing humming power, the screams of Sonic’s little friends, the thrill of the kill rushing through his veins. Sonic struggled weakly before him, his fingers interlaced with Super’s as he loomed over, pressing Sonic into the ground.

Super was giddy.

Sonic’s arms shook under Super’s power, he flinched at the sting of his crackling whips of electricity. Weak, weak, weak! And here he was! Super, with all the power of the emeralds, radiant and fiery and powerful!

He leaned down inches from Sonic’s face, following the momentum as Sonic dropped to a knee with a gasp. He was doing a remarkable job of schooling his expression into one of fierce defiance, but Super knew it must be hard. Looking straight into the eyes of your better self, of the power and perfection you could never have, oh that must be tough! And still trying to fight back, to prove he was worth something on his own…a fool might call that admirable. Super, of course, would just call it annoying.

He bared his teeth and locked eyes with his prey. Green, how strange.

“I’ll give you this one chance for some dignity, Sonic,” he growled. Sonic’s arms wobbled under him, but he still met Super’s gaze. “Go ahead, I’ll let you choose exactly how I’ll kill you!”

He expected some cute little retort, some feeble attempt at denial of his immediate fate. But no, Sonic grit his teeth and yelled, “Now, Ebony! Now!”

Ebony…that was—.

A cold wave bowled him over, distorted light surrounding him and Sonic. His extremities tingled with a foreign power as he whirled around, looking for the source.

Ebony stood atop a crest of rubble, her striking silhouette looming over the two small hedgehogs. She held her arms up high in front of her, sharp grey geometry radiating from her fingertips. Her gaze was hard and cold, focused on Super, her tail lashing behind her. Super’s ears flattened and a small part of him shrank at the sight.

His attention snapped back to Sonic at the sound of his feeble wail. The boy was curled in on himself, quills limp, body sagging. Crumbling, fading…

“Hah!” Super all but shrieked. “Looks like your little spell backfired!” He stepped into the sizzling cloud of magic that ate Sonic’s body into a lovely little powder. “You destroyed the wrong hedgehog!”

He laughed, twirling. Stupid bitch! Stupid brat Sonic! The disintegrated hero’s friends were watching in horror and their faces oh the faces they were making—!

Something abruptly caught in his throat and he stopped. He felt a tug and a tightening around his throat, his chest; a tingling and numbness around his fingers and toes and ears. The vibrant thrum of his power began to quiet, began to dissipate at the edges until he couldn’t feel it—couldn’t feel it!

His breaths came quick. “No, what-what’s happening?” He frantically patted himself down, checked himself over. He couldn’t feel in his fingers, could barely hear the shuffling and talking around him. Wretched witch did something, took advantage and ruined—!

He finally saw it, the blue wave flowing across his body.

“No. No, no, no!!” He wanted to scream, tried. But the words died in his throat, his tongue wouldn’t move. Things became dark, and distant. Cold. He heard Sonic speak from his mouth.

And then he felt a tear and a snap.

Everything pressing in around him. Heavy, dark, formless. No, he wouldn’t let Sonic overrule him, he wouldn’t be shoved away again! Not again, not ever! He lashed out with his powers—tried to. Tried to break through any cracks, feel his way to consciousness—.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what it felt like when he wasn’t in control. It didn’t feel like anything when he wasn’t in control. He shouldn’t be thinking now, shouldn’t be aware. Should only be a dream, a nightmare lurking behind Sonic’s eyelids.

Super took stock of himself. His blurry and disoriented mind locked in a hazy awareness. His body was unresponsive, but he wasn’t unconscious. This was something else…

Sonic hadn’t taken over his body. This wasn’t the way things used to be. This wasn’t some kind of horrible reunion. This was…

Becoming a ghost.

No, no, that wasn’t right. He imagined that would involve floating over everyone else and blowing raspberries at their little mortal bodies. He’d probably keep living as chaos energy, if anything. No, this wasn’t death. He could still feel the heat of life.

He was dimly aware of his body moving, the sensation of balancing over gravel, the distant rustling of other bodies. Used to be he saw as Sonic, he was Sonic, but this… If he focused, he could see outside, see Sonic’s friends moving through a dreamlike haze. He still had senses, though faint, so maybe he was—

Being absorbed.

Losing a body.

Moving dimensions.

His puzzled thoughts rattled around and tangled up with other thoughts—thoughts that were foreign. Not how he thought, not what he thought about—not as him, not as Sonic. Something grieving, something stunned. Something pressing around him. A maze, a huge space. Strange and huge and all around him.

His power flared, seeking cracks to exploit, seeking an end or an exit or an answer. Something pressed around him. Something pulled at his power. Something was thinking and feeling and moving. A realization sparked within him and made his power burn hot and frantic. He focused on seeing, on feeling his body, on what was really around him.

Dimly, he could tell how far away his hands were from his body.

His power roared.

Becoming two at once.

Ebony sighed, heavy and tired. It was done. “I didn’t destroy Sonic,” she explained, stepping down from the pile of rubble. “Fleet wasn’t going to willingly move into Sonic’s body, so I moved Sonic into his. Just combined you two back together like you used to be.” At least she hoped so, but she wasn’t going to give the rattled teens another reason to worry.

The other hedgehog—the girl—tentatively approached Sonic to steady him. She looked like she’d been on the verge of tears, but was able to school her expression now that her friend was back in front of her. The young fox that scrambled alongside her didn’t seem to be as disciplined, judging by his wet cheeks and quivering lip. It was a relief, honestly, to see they weren’t all battle-worn; that they gave each other reassuring smiles and quick hugs.

Ebony twisted at the loose fabric of her off-the-shoulder collar. Why couldn’t that be Fleet, though? The sweet kid she’d been taking care of at the café, the one who went on errands with her and held her hands in crowds and whose half-eaten lunch from last week was probably still sitting in the fridge—.

She sucked in a breath. No, she couldn’t think about any of that. He’d lost control and couldn’t be brought back—not with the magic she knew. This was… this was for the best.

But the hot lump in her throat didn’t go away. The frustration built in her chest into a wailing cry, an impulse to throw herself down and scream until her throat was hoarse, smash her hands into the rocky ground until it broke beneath her, let loose a wave of reckless and wild magic that carried her grief into everyone here.

She cleared her throat. Sonic turned her way with a sharp look, his friends following his gaze curiously.

“I think I’ll be off,” she said, forcing herself to smile, forcing her voice to stay even. God, she couldn’t be here right now. “Sorry for all the trouble.”

Sonic opened his mouth to speak, but Knuckles held him back as he had when they’d first arrived. When Ebony had arrived with—.

She waved and turned, hurriedly bundled up Fleet’s discarded cloak without letting herself think about it too hard, and left. All the while that hot ball of pain burned in her chest, never faltering. She wanted to scream, wanted to tear her fur out, wanted wanted wanted to let everything out. Her grief, her pain, her fury—.

Halfway down the stone steps of the demolished castle, she stopped. Was she furious? Was she angry? Normally she was so aware of her emotions—she had to be for her magic to work. She needed to know herself and know how to control her energy. If she really… She chewed on her claw and looked back the way she came. If she really wasn’t aware of how she was feeling, she wouldn’t be able to know herself, wouldn’t be able to control her magic. And if she couldn’t control her magic…maybe she’d done something wrong.

She needed to tell Sonic.

Just the thought made her sick with bitterness.

She pressed the bundled fabric close to her chest and took a deep breath. Her thoughts refused to settle like she wanted, distracted and jumbled. The ozone tinge of chaos energy still clung to her, weighed heavy in the air. Not here, then. She’d need to get farther away—home even—before she could properly settle down and collect herself. Her claws sank into the rough fabric as she breathed out, slow, controlled. She pushed the disjointed thoughts, the burning emotion in her chest, the concerns and anxieties, down into the quiet of her mind, cleared a space for her focus.

When she got home, she’d address her emotions. For now, she couldn’t let them control her.

There had never been a time when Pyjamas’ predictions were 100% accurate. Came with the territory of being a natural-born clairvoyant, she supposed. It was easy to read too much into her visions and find details where there shouldn’t be. But she couldn’t help but try her best; a vague prediction was worth nothing more than a party trick, after all. If only she could crack the code, figure out what she could be doing better, then maybe she could be of some real help to her friends.

Ebony was such a dear, always was. Sure, she was brash and overconfident at times, but she had a good heart and always put it to use. As much as she’d tease Pyjamas, scoff and groan and laugh at her, she was never cruel. The underlying mutual respect was always understood. She’d stuck up for Pyjamas—more than once—took care to seek her out even early on in their friendship, when they’d barely known each other within their old organizing committee. Ebony was always the one to make sure Pyjamas got her invite out to dinner, the one to send her flyers for local events, coupons in the mail for things she thought the older woman might like.

The café was relatively new. Ebony had gotten hold of it only a few years ago, shuffled through paperwork from a grieving friend after the death of his partner. Financial burdens and hectic work schedules she’d stepped in to shoulder temporarily were signed over to her officially. Pyjamas was the first one to hear about it. In that same phone call, Ebony asked how she was doing living alone. There was a second bedroom in the flat above the store, no need to pay rent. It sure would be nice to have a friend to lean on while she figured out how to fix up this business. She excitedly told her that she was thinking live music! Open mics! Redistributing the ownership and the wages as much as she was legally allowed (damn banks), doing right by everyone as best she could. She was a pretty forceful girl when no one put the brakes on her, and by the end of the phone call Pyjamas had forgotten to protest at all. Ebony would come help her pack and move in that weekend.

So when that headstrong and brilliant girl had insisted on bringing into their care one of the most frightening and powerful beings on the planet…Pyjamas really should not have been surprised.

The cynical part of her wished for this to be a hard lesson for Ebony. Not everything you want will always work out; you can’t save them all. But really, when Ebony had shouldered that travel pack of food and camping gear and when red-eyed and dizzy little Fleet had given Pyjamas one last boney hug goodbye… She couldn’t help but hope Ebony could save just this one.

She tried to run the shop normally while she waited for their return. Tried to tidy up Fleet’s room a bit while he wasn’t there to complain if she moved his comics to vacuum. She went out with a few friends to get herself out of the flat, kept herself busy. But the anxieties caught up to her anyway, kept her up late at night watching staticky sitcoms to exhaust herself.

At least, until the final day. The final day, when she felt a wave of black static wash over her—as if she’d stood up too fast—and caught a glimpse of a door opening, someone walking through. She had to know, had to be prepared to celebrate or comfort her friend. She squinted in her mind, tried to chase the image even as it faded to hazy shadows. Yes… she was certain…both Ebony and Fleet would make it home.

A spring in her step, Pyjamas cleared off the kitchen table, set a pot of chili to warm on the stove, and made her way down the stairs to wait for the pair at the door.

Ebony had felt like a live wire for the last three days. Her journey back to the Groovy Train had been much faster now that she didn’t have to slow down for tired little legs. And it had needed to be faster because every second she didn’t spend on the move was time for the wall of emotions speeding behind her to catch up and slam into the forefront of her mind.

She desperately needed to rest and meditate, but the aching screaming pain inside her refused to let her mind clear when she tried. It built a fortress around its core, nested walls and Czech hedgehogs that warded her away from her own grief for her real hedgehog. For the first time in decades, she couldn’t focus. When she was a teen first starting out learning magic, she would sit to meditate and just let her mind wander for half an hour—no centering, no self-awareness, no control. Now, as easy as it should have been for her to untangle the sensitive mess of her own mind, she found she couldn’t sit still for more than a minute before her anxieties bubbled into rage and desperation and jolted her out of her seat.

She stood at the back door of the Groovy Train with shaking hands and blurry vision. She was exhausted. She was antsy. Energy danced under her skin in a body that could barely hold up her own weight. Maybe she just needed a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Or Pyjamas could unravel the knot in her brain by hand. Hmmm or with a crochet hook, maybe. She still had that old craft stuff laying around somewhere, right?

She let herself focus on the silly visual as she stepped across the threshold. Better than thinking too hard about—.

“Fleet! Ebony! I had a vision you’d be back!” Pyjamas welcomed Ebony inside by pulling her down into a hug.

“PJ, I—.”

The old sheepdog stepped back from the hug to hang lightly on Ebony’s wrists and looked expectantly through the door, her tail wagging lazily. “Where’s the boy at? I swear I just saw—.”

“Pyjamas,” Ebony snapped, wrenching her arms away. “That’s enough. Your useless visions were wrong again. Fleet’s not coming back! It’s just me.”

Ebony winced at her own words, but the roiling heat in her chest didn’t make her want to take them back. Tears pressed behind her eyes and caught in her throat as she stared down the other woman. The stupid—she should have thought should have known better—why did she even trust her visions when they were so obviously always wrong? Her hands shook with a spiraling rage, her vision clouded and darkened, but she bit her tongue.

Pyjamas gave her a strange look, as if Ebony was the foolish one as if she wouldn’t be the one to know—.

“Well that’s not right,” she said, interrupting Ebony’s thoughts. Pyjamas looked around hesitantly. “I can feel him right here. Can’t you, dear?”

Pyjamas’ hand floated in front of her, moved around slowly as if feeling for an invisible hedgehog that certainly wasn’t there. Ebony opened her mouth to retort, to hiss at her to stop rubbing salt in the wound, but stopped as the hands found their way back in front of her, hovering over her chest. Pyjamas stiffened, her brow working into a frown beneath her curly mop of hair.

“Ebony,” she said quietly. “What did you do?”

#couch art #myaa #fleetway super sonic #anyway ummm merger au time #even after all this time with this au i still never was able to decide what the povs should be like #so if u think it should b different then it is <3

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