IMPENDING DOOM

03

✥
THREE
Sleeping
____________

៚ THE CHILD SLEPT.

And slept.

. . . And slept.

So much that Agent Stone felt the need to keep checking his pulse at every red light, concerned, but everything was fine: the hedgehog child gently rose and fell beneath the warm jacket in the back, sleeping on.

Eventually, Agent Stone stopped checking the child's pulse and focused entirely on driving. He was afraid to stop, afraid of being caught, afraid of the hedgehog being seen, afraid of the hedgehog waking up and maybe slitting his throat.

Cute or not, Agent Stone was one hundred percent certain this boy was nothing like that annoying Sonic. This boy was dangerous—and if he wasn't before, he would be now. He would definitely be violent after years, possibly, in captivity.

But then again . . . If the government had gotten their hands on Sonic—sweet, innocent, bouncy and harmless (and annoying) Sonic—they would have locked him up and experimented on him. There was not a doubt about that. Sonic would be violent and vengeful, too, no doubt.

The cold sting of dread refused to leave Agent Stone's chest. Clearly that was this hedgehog's fate. Hidden away, labeled an alien, a threat, locked up like a freak, chained. The government always has to stick their stupid nose where it doesn't belong. He couldn't believe he once worked for them.

The dark hedgehog coughed in his sleep—a dainty, polite thing. Some relief kissed Agent Stone's shoulders; finally, a response. Something more than just slumber.

The sun was beginning to rise, but the dark hedgehog continued to sleep and Agent Stone continued to drive.

⋆ ═══ ★ ═══ ⋆

The Mean Bean was just as he left it: locked up and dark, hiding all his secrets. Closed for the week due to death in the family—a lie, but a fabulous one.

Agent Stone pulled in the garage, closing it behind him, making sure not a soul laid an eye upon the secret he had stolen under the consent of the United States government. He slipped his bag over his shoulder and opened the door to the back seat where the dark hedgehog continued to sleep. He paused a minute just to reflect, just to be.

Again, he doubted. This guy—deadly? With that pretty face? Agent Stone found it hard to believe, as far as looks go, but he knew even Sonic was dangerous, that cute face smiling as he electrocuted you. Agent Stone was curious to what this hedgehog's ability was. Sonic had super speed, Knuckles super strength (And super idiocy, he added to himself), and the fluffy yellow fox (Agent Stone was embarrassed that he didn't know his name) was super smart. He shrugged, dismissing the thought, and scooped up the dark hedgehog gently in his arms, keeping his head up as he carried him inside to his living quarters upstairs.

. . . Which was nothing but a mess, much to his dismay.

The Doctor had two bad habits: staying up all night whilst listening to angry music and being a complete disorganized mess.

Robotnik was passed out on the couch, snoring away, mustache tangled, and gadgets and tools were everywhere. He was sleeping in his own mess of blueprints.

Agent Stone left him to sleep and carried the dark hedgehog to his personal chambers where he lay him down, removing his shoes and gloves before tucking him in. The child curled up in the fetal position, brows creased whilst he still—slept—on. He moaned quietly, but nothing else. Agent Stone was glad for it because the hedgehog really did look dead. Thin, cold, marked up, and so still.