Chapter Text
Flailing limbs suspend in leaking time, its moment trickling as sand, depositing each grain of its whole into an hourglass. Straightening his gait means nothing when a hitch lodges itself in his throat, gloved paws shakily reaching to clasp onto the shimmering afterimage. The last wisps of the golden ring dissipate into nothing, flickering in fallen grains. His paws catch nothing, feel no weight as fading lights weave carelessly between each fabric covered paw pad. Only mere glimpses remain behind his eyelids, tears welling and projecting missing gleams of what he wishes he could hold onto, grip on with desperate care. What could hold him in turn, soft wingspans closing around him and encasing him in their affectionate shield. Confusion wrecks his form, distressed twists to his neck as he looks along the clearing he resides in. Nothing. There’s nothing here, pointlessly searching with quick fluttering blurry eyes.
The scene clasps its grip atop his threat, squeezing it with aching precision. The situation fails to dawn on him in its entirety.
Fading darkness approaches, eyes squeezing shut. The gloom waits for no one, capturing him swiftly and without gentleness.
Dream. A flashback. The little hints of sleep he’s selfishly taken unburdened haunt him in his waking moments. He wakes quickly, his mind tumbling over itself in an attempt to collect awareness. He allows enough of it to cover him in its laden state, pulling himself to his shoed paws. The tight ache presses down on him in the waking world, ignorance to the abnormality of it existing. His heart beats quick and fast, a normality if it wasn’t backed by diminishing flashes of remembrance.
He clasps the bag of rings, making sure they’re still there in hope of relieving some of the tension in his chest. The solution is slim, his belief in it small. The azure hoglet shakes his head, plastering on a few notes of a fake determination. He takes off, a blue flash left in his retreating steps. The time of day is given a brief glance, the sun’s bare lights scarcely catching on the earth, and then no other.
Since that passing day, he holds a goal over his furred head: become fast enough to outrun anything. If he strives to continue, he’ll reach it. But that’s not a guarantee, he has to keep pushing, sweeping his way along the landscape over and over. No matter what, he has to keep moving
Longclaw told him that there will always be someone that wants him for his power and he can’t afford to make that true, can’t allow himself to stumble into awaiting jaws. Jaws that will hold tight and grieve over ever letting go.
The only way to stay safe is to stay hidden.
Repetition. A mantra. Again and again, over and over, 1 and 2, reoccurring.
The words manifest behind his eyelids, a blanket of covered thoughts pressing below. If he runs, he has to stay hidden. Every part of him, for his safety. No one can see him, can spot a lick of his quills or fur. He sticks to the shadows and he doesn’t go out often, it can work.
Doubt sets in.
Who won’t see him? No matter how fast he could learn to be… He’s bright colored, eye searing in point blank viewing. Even in dimness, he’s quite hard to miss. The first time, it failed.
I’m too fast to be seen
What a childlike hope. He wasn’t fast enough then, he never will be. He can’t be careless, get too invested in one area. Staying in one place, even if he itches to explore— it’ll come back to bite him. He forbids himself from breaking that rule, impeaching upon the one thing he can’t mess up.
However… eventually, he’ll be spotted somehow. He doesn’t have high confidence in his ability to not be perceived. His doom will be spelled out, a mess up of his own making. Either by his bright fur or azure licked powers flickering in tandem. His coordinates will be laid bare, unbidden to the world against his wishes. No matter how much he tries, attempts— he’ll be found.
Never stop running.
That’s it, his goal. He has to run, continuously stay on his paws, and streak through the air as though a faded afterimage of forgotten energy. Unimportant, easily misplaced. Chaos powered prickles of light that shouldn’t be on this planet. He, as a being, shouldn’t be on this planet.
Perhaps he can hold more value if he isn’t alone. Unfortunately, the one who could’ve filled the void, added worth to his person, isn’t here. The only deserving, Longclaw…
He wants to stop, sink down to his knees and sob under the crushing weight of guilt. Wishes upon wishes coming forth as utters into the air, soft and choked whispers and high keens.
No, he can’t stop. As much as he wants to indulge in the daydreams, he won’t. If he’s forced to one spot, he’ll have to face what he’s been ignoring for days. His eyes would leak, his tears’ three layers falling open down his furred cheeks. A hiccup, a hitch in his breath, a stumble in his gait and he’d fall apart. Crumpling to the Earth, to the soft dirt beneath him and squashing the stray dandelion as his sobs would rack the air amidst his person. His cries would echo in the clearing he typically avoided, he’d become attached to the grounding of being in one place. The dirt beneath him warming at his body heat, his liquid clear escapes of sorrow would make imprints of circles in the soot. His tail tucked, ears pinned to block out all that only existed in his thought box as the green stems licked at him.
The smell of fresh rain, the taste of the salt laden in his tears, the texture of the soft earth under him… and the grief pressing down on him. The guilt and regret.
Goodbye, Sonic.
Then and presently, the words rip him to pieces. Exchanging goodbyes never once crossed his mind, he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to say goodbye, face the reality— He couldn’t afford to lay waste to anything else in his breakdown. He’d caused enough as it is. Streaks of police strobe and aqua flitted along his person, his core energy keeping him moving past the lapse in fantizations and the clearing that had beckoned it. The dandelions were trampled upon, a sad site that brought forth the mental remembrance of the abandoned sunflower he had initially plucked with care and thoughts of returned affection.
Awaiting high praise, as if he deserved it. Why did he bother? He basically aided in their separation in the end, all because he didn’t listen. All because he chose to be independently reckless.
He grips the bag of rings close, the threaded handle longer than needed for his small frame. It feels like a heavy weight on his shoulders… It won’t be too big for him someday, far in the future. Longclaw won’t be there to see it, to welcome him in along with winged hugs and soft chitters.
The thought brings a pained misery to his heart, his chest squeaking in displeasure. He doesn’t want to think about that.
That future is long gone… The future he has will be without Longclaw. No matter how much that hurt, he has to keep running.
With her, without her— he’ll mess up again and again. Why is he selfish enough to wish for her presence, to wish for a world that couldn’t happen?
He misses her, so much. His mind in rampant in screwing up on deciding. Does she miss him, wherever she is?
…
No, she doesn’t. Of course not, Sonic. He has caused her so much trouble, became a problem no one could miss. Not one individual should hope to see an issue return to them. He’s stupid for thinking otherwise, half heartedly believing she shares his sentiment. A problem can’t fix itself, doesn’t he know that.
He needs to get far away, far away from anyone who could ever be thrown into his misfortune. He can’t be spotted, he mustn’t. He’ll force it if he has to, he has to get fast.
Keep running, Sonic.
He will do it, make Longclaw see that he isn’t a bad kid. That he doesn’t mean to be such a problem, to mess up so badly. He’ll stay safe, hidden and away from prying eyes.
She doesn’t miss him, so she’ll be happier if the problem listens. If her last wish is granted. She’ll never have to deal with him again.
She is so happy to hear this… He wants her to be happy, without him.
I wish she’d tuck me under her wings again.. But I don’t deserve it, not yet.