Chapter Text
The Wachowski’s always kept a tight check on their trash and compost disposal.
Living in Green Hills was amazing, don’t get them wrong. The lush forests, pristine lakes, and lovely town were a hidden jewel nestled in Montana. It had been home to the Wachowski name for generations.
But the raccoons sucked.
They got into everything and left a mess. Anything that smelled even remotely like food became their next target, and they didn’t care what remained on the ground when they were done. It got to the point where they had to buy trash and compost bins that had so many latches and clasps that surely nothing but a human could get inside.
For a long while, the raccoons left them in peace. It felt nice to walk outside in the morning to not have garbage everywhere or the stench of compost filling the air.
The bins caught the eye of Maddie Wachowski as she was washing up after dinner one night. She smiled to herself at the peace that the bins entailed. She’d just put in some scraps from dinner into the compost, and knew it would be safe there until it became soil for the garden.
Only, in the morning, when she went to check on it just to be sure, the scraps were gone.
“What?” Maddie muttered to herself. “That’s weird.” Food didn’t just disappear. And the entire bin looked untouched, so nothing had gotten inside.
She shrugged and forgot about it within the hour.
Then it happened again two days later.
She’d thrown out an old apple and the unneeded pieces of onion from dinner. The apple was gone and the end of the onion seemed to have a bite taken out of it before it was left in the bin.
Confused, Maddie deposited a banana peel and firmly closed the bin, double-checking that it was firmly locked in place.
The next day, the peel was still there, but any scraps of fruit had been scraped off.
“Tom,” Maddie called later that day, “I think something’s getting into the compost.”
“Still?” Tom demanded incredulously. “Even with the new bin?”
Maddie nodded and explained what she’d seen. Tom seemed just as confused as her, which reassured her that she wasn’t crazy.
They decided to keep an extra-close eye on it, and not throw anything out, just to be safe.
A week later, with no incident, Tom off-handedly mentioned how Crazy Carl said he hadn’t seen any signs of his ‘Blue Devil’ in over a week. While it was nice that the guy wasn’t talking about his alien friend every time someone opened up to conversation, Tom asked if he was doing okay now that he wasn’t focused on the one thing. Carl reassured him that he was fine.
So they brushed it aside.
They forgot about keeping food out of the compost.
They’d hosted a small party with the families to celebrate a birthday (unfortunately inside and not outside since it rained), and there were more food scraps than usual. Maddie dumped the food into the compost and put the containers used in the recycling (also as locked and as raccoon-proof as the trash).
That night, as she was trying to fall asleep, she heard a quiet banging and a softer ‘ouch!’ noise.
Carefully, so she didn’t wake Tom, Maddie slipped out of the room and padded to the kitchen. She didn’t make any noise, as to not alert whatever was out there, and peered out the window.
The compost looked like…the compost.
But the recycling had tipped over, spilling its contents onto the ground. Open.
Maddie stepped outside, more confused than annoyed, and hefted the bin upright. Only when she’d finished putting everything inside did she realize the food containers from earlier were gone.
And in the muddy ground was a tiny imprint.
Maddie leaned closer, squinting into the dark, trying to figure out what animal made the track. It looked elongated and oval-shaped, but other than that it was hard to see details in the night lighting.
A large drop of rain landed on her arm and she flinched away. With a tired sigh, Maddie retreated inside and out of the coming storm.
She almost forgot about it the next day, but when Tom mentioned the recycling, it popped back into her mind. “Something opened the recycling last night,” she told the officer, “and left a print.”
“Seriously?” Tom groaned, sharing her irritation. “We just got those.”
They walked out together, and Maddie scanned the ground for the print, but the rain had washed it away. Her lips pressed together in disappointment.
“The ground’s still soft,” Tom reassured. “If we leave bait, we could get another print.”
“That’s a great idea,” Maddie approved, giving her husband a winning smile. He eagerly rubbed his hands together and brought out a single apple from inside the house.
At Maddie’s raised brow, he shrugged. “It liked the first one, right?”
“True,” Maddie agreed. “Okay, let’s leave it out tonight and see what we get tomorrow.”
In the morning, the apple was gone, and instead of a single print, the muddy ground was a mess of marks and gouges.
“What could possibly make that?” Maddie huffed in frustration. “It’s like someone just scribbled a bunch in the mud!”
“What about a camera?” Tom suggested. “Like they use on nature documentaries.”
They agreed, bought one in town, and set it up before nightfall. They left another apple.
It was still there in the morning.
“This thing is smart,” Tom mused, picking up the untouched apple.
“One night doesn’t mean it saw the camera,” Maddie returned. “Let’s try again.”
They left it out for four more nights. The apple vanished, but the camera showed raccoons as the suspect. They must’ve returned at the smell of food.
And they left obvious prints.
“So not a raccoon. Probably,” Tom thought aloud. “They don’t mess up their own tracks.”
This was starting to bug Maddie.
It was probably nothing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something took the food because it was hungry. If there was something out there that needed food, needed help, it would eat at her if she didn’t provide it.
So, that night, without Tom knowing—simply because she thought it was a crazy idea and didn’t need Tom to tell her to just leave it—she put out an apple and closed the curtain in the kitchen. With the lights off, she crept up to the window, pulled it back the slightest bit, and watched.
She almost fell asleep twice. No motion came from outside and the gentle sound of rain from a storm lulled her into a sleepy trance.
The third time, when she felt herself drift off and her eyes closed against her will, she heard a small sound.
Fatigue gone immediately, Maddie stared into the darkness, trying to spot movement. She heard the noise again first—it sounded like little breaths of ‘ouch, ouch, ouch.’ Which made her freeze in alarm. Was the thing taking their food a person?
And hurt?
Then it crept into view, and Maddie felt her heart stop.
A small form crept towards the apple. Wide eyes darted around, checking the house, watching the camera. Maddie had intentionally put the apple away from the trail camera so that whatever took it wouldn’t be seen. It seemed that the creature knew this.
Blue and peach fur flashed, glossy from water. A small brown pouch hung around its shoulders. Muddy white gloves were held out to its sides, as if for balance, and it seemed to have a limp to every step. It cautiously crept towards the apple, now with a desperate look to its gaze.
It snatched up the apple, but the quick motion threw it off balance. It tried to regain footing, but when the left leg touched the ground, it let out a quiet yelp of pain and collapsed to the ground.
Maddie’s heart leaped into her throat at the evident hurt in the creature’s expression. It drew its left foot to its body and nursed the ankle, apple forgotten on the ground by its side. Its eyes screwed shut and a little whimper escaped its mouth.
Well then. Maddie wasn’t about to leave anything out in the rain and cold when it was clearly injured and hungry. She slowly let the curtain fall back into place, donned her rain jacket, and slipped into a pair of boots.
She opened and closed the door with near-silence, but the little click was drowned out by the rain. She pulled her hood up and headed to the side of the house where the creature was still slouched on the muddy wet ground.
Maddie got a little closer, moving slowly, but the creature’s eyes were still shut and it didn’t see her. She knelt down to make herself look smaller, then pulled back her hood just enough to show her face better.
Now that she was closer, it became evident that the shine on the creature’s head came from long, pointy…somethings. The spiky things on its head. What even was this creature? She’d never heard of anything with blue and peach fur and human-like features, and she was a vet. She knew so many animals.
“Hey there,” she called softly.
The creature flinched hard with a screech and scrambled backwards, hand flying to its brown pouch, eyes full of fear as they pinned on Maddie. It tried to stand, wobbling dramatically, and backed away with a worsened limp.
“Whoa, hey,” Maddie held up her hands and didn’t move. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“S-stay back,” the creature stuttered with a young, high-pitched voice, and Maddie’s brows shot up. It spoke English? “D-don’t make me fight you.”
“I’m not here to fight,” Maddie soothed. “I want to help.”
The creature stopped retreating. “W-what?” Its voice continued to shake. “Why?”
“Because you’re hurt,” Maddie replied. “And hungry. It was you taking food scraps, wasn’t it?”
If someone told Maddie that she would be having a conversation with some kind of alien creature in the dead of night while it poured rain, she would’ve called them crazy. Not so much anymore, though.
The creature’s ears folded back and it glanced away.
“We have lots of food inside,” Maddie explained quietly. “I can get you patched up, fed, and out of this weather. Does that sound okay?”
The creature hesitated, clutching onto its bag like one would a stuffed animal. By now it leaned fully on the uninjured leg, arms folded protectively across its body—or perhaps for warmth, the poor thing looked soaked through by now—and stared longingly at the abandoned apple between the two. But when it blinked, the emotions were gone, and it hopped back a step. “I-I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I c-can’t be discovered.” The creature was definitely shivering, Maddie realized. “N-no one can know I’m here. I—I have to go.”
It turned towards the woods, took a step, and immediately crashed to the ground. Maddie rushed forward before it could stand and pressed a gentle but firm hand on its shoulder to keep it on the ground. It shrieked in alarm and, suddenly, the spikes on its head lit up in a bright electric blue.
Maddie gasped and jerked backwards. They stared at each other for a long moment—Maddie in shock and awe about the electricity dancing between the spikes, and the creature with utter fear.
Then, slowly, Maddie approached again. “I want to help you,” she hushed. “It’s cold out here. Come with me and get warmed up. I promise no one’s gonna hurt you.”
She offered her hand between them and let the creature come to her.
It blinked slowly, and the blue faded from its spikes. Longing filled its green gaze. Terror pushed it away. Back and forth like an emotional dance. Its grip on the bag tightened.
Maddie waited patiently, rain pattering off her jacket.
Finally, a cold tiny hand slid into her own.
Maddie’s fingers curled around the glove. Not too tight, but enough to lift the alien to its feet. She could feel it shaking. It pulled heavily on her hand to use it for help walking, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping the creature from running. The other hand remained clutched around the little brown bag.
“What’s your name, kiddo?” Maddie asked as she led it back to the house.
After a brief moment of silence, she got a quiet reply: “Sonic.”
“Sonic,” Maddie echoed. “And how old are you, Sonic?”
“Ten.”
Maddie internally winced. So little to be out here alone. “You’re pretty young to be digging for scrap food, buddy.” They reached the front porch, dry from the rain, and Maddie kicked off her muddy boots.
Sonic didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her. It—he—stared into the house like it was haunted.
“It’s okay, Sonic,” Maddie murmured. “The only people are me and Tom.”
Sonic seemed to shrink into himself, but nodded, and let her lead him inside.
“Okay,” the vet whispered as she shut the door and removed her rain jacket. “Do you think you can take off your shoes for me? We’re gonna try to track as little mud in as possible.”
Sonic hesitated, then reluctantly lowered himself to the ground and pried off the right shoe. Maddie saw the soles for a brief moment before they were on the ground. There was a giant hole in it.
Sonic wrapped his hands around the second one but paused. “I-it hurts,” he whimpered.
“That’s okay,” Maddie reassured. “We can get it off later. Let’s get you some food first, then how’s the sound of a hot shower feel?”
Sonic’s brow furrowed. “I dunno. I’ve never taken a hot shower.”
Maddie’s heart ached. “They’re the best,” she told him. “I’ll show you how it works. But don’t worry about it right now.” She offered her hand again, and this time, Sonic accepted the help much quicker. “I’ll heat up some soup.”
She helped a now-silent Sonic onto the barstool at the kitchen island. He watched her every move, ears perked and swiveling around, eyes darting to every nook and cranny of the house. She kept watch over him even if she wasn’t looking to make sure he didn’t run off. But he seemed content to sit at the table at least for a little while.
Once the pan of soup made it onto the lit stove, Maddie turned back towards Sonic. His head rested on his arms, which folded across the table, still painfully muddy and wet. His eyelids drooped and fluttered as he struggled to stay awake.
“Hey, Sonic,” Maddie called gently. The creature sucked in a startled breath and shot upright, eyes wide and blinking fast to clear the sleepiness. “I need to tell Tom what’s going on. I can’t keep you a secret here, especially if you use the shower.”
Sonic’s ears flattened and his pupils shrunk.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Maddie soothed. “He’s a lovely person. He won’t hurt you.”
Only after several moments of internal debate did he eventually cave in. He slumped back onto the table and pointedly looked away.
Maddie took it as her cue to dart to her room and wake her husband.
“Tom.” She shook his shoulder. By some miracle, he hadn’t stirred despite Sonic’s brief shriek of fear from before and their whispering inside. “Tom, wake up.”
As soon as he had any sort of resemblance to the realm of reality, Tom’s eyes shot open and he sat upright. “Maddie?” He questioned sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
“So, don’t freak out,” she started, and this made his eyes widen. “But there’s…” She trailed off and frowned. “How do I put this?”
Tom, more awake now, grabbed her arms. “Maddie, what’s going on?”
She waved him off. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. Do you remember the alien that Crazy Carl kept going on about?”
“The Blue Devil?” Tom questioned. “Sure. Why?”
“I think he’s in our kitchen.”
Tom paused. Blinked. Then shot to his feet. “The Blue Devil?” He hissed back. “It’s real?”
Maddie nodded. She explained how she’d waited up with the apple outside and convinced Sonic to come in with her for care. Tom calmed down and understood the situation, then agreed to not freak out when he saw the alien. Maddie told him to wait until she was ready, then she returned to Sonic.
He hadn’t moved, staring ahead into nothing, ears drooping.
“Sonic,” Maddie called gently. The alien flinched in surprise and whirled to her, but calmed down when he realized who was talking. “Tom’s gonna come out now, okay?
He nodded once, fearfully.
“Okay, Tom.” Maddie kept her eyes on Sonic. “You can come out.”
She felt his presence behind her. She heard him suck in a breath as he laid eyes on the mythic Blue Devil. She watched Sonic’s expression change from fear to recognition and back to fear again.
“Sonic, this is Tom,” Maddie introduced. “Tom, this is Sonic.”
She headed over towards the stove, where the soup was steaming nicely and beginning to simmer. She turned off the flame and reached for a bowl.
“Hello, Sonic,” Tom said politely.
“Y-you aren’t gonna sell me t-to the government, right?” Sonic asked in a tiny voice.
Maddie almost dropped the bowl in surprise.
“Of course not,” Tom replied, sounding equally as shocked. “Why would we do that?”
“For my power,” Sonic whimpered.
Maddie spooned out some of the soup—chicken noodle—into the bowl and brought it over to Sonic. “This is hot,” she warned. “Take it slow.”
She handed him a spoon, and he gazed at it with disbelief.
“We don’t want your power, Sonic,” Maddie added, having some kind of idea what he was talking about. The bright blue in his spikes flashed across her vision. “Trust me. We just want you taken care of.”
Sonic stared at her with wide, timid eyes, then slowly tasted the food in front of him. His expression flashed with different emotions as he took the first bite. Then another. And pretty soon, he was shoveling the soup down like he wouldn’t eat again.
“Whoa, slow down, buddy,” Maddie chuckled.
“I’m not good at that,” Sonic muttered in reply, seemingly serious, but Maddie cracked a smile anyway. She saw Tom mirror her humor as well.
When he finished the soup, the kid looked even more sleepy. “…Thanks,” he said quietly.
“We can get you more after you shower,” Maddie informed him. Sonic’s ears perked at that, and he nodded in agreement. She helped him off the stool, drawing Tom’s attention to his foot.
“What’d you do to your ankle, little guy?” He asked.
Sonic and Maddie both looked down at the injury. It seemed swollen, and now that he had Maddie’s help, Sonic put very little weight on it. “I twisted it,” he mumbled.
Maddie felt a violent shiver travel through the kid. “That’s alright,” she hummed. “Let’s get you warmed up and cleaned off.”
They drifted into the bathroom, lights on now, and Maddie guided Sonic to sit on the edge of the tub. “Let’s get that shoe off, yeah?” She suggested.
Sonic gripped the tub with all the strength he possessed and nodded once.
Maddie nodded towards Tom, who came up on the other side. “You support the ankle,” Maddie coached. “Keep it from moving. I’ll get it off.”
Tom gently placed his hands on either side of Sonic’s little ankle. The alien flinched but otherwise didn’t move, spiky things raised defensively and ears flat. Maddie carefully undid the ratty laces and opened up the tongue flap.
Slowly, she pulled the shoe heel down, pushed the toe upwards towards Sonic’s body, and slid it off with little resistance. She set it behind her on the floor.
Sonic let out a quiet huff of air when it was gone. Tom guided it back towards the other one, letting it hang by gravity, and when he let go, Sonic relaxed further.
“Can we take off your socks and gloves?” Maddie asked.
Sonic’s defensiveness surged back and he pulled his hands to his chest while shaking his head fervently. “Okay, don’t worry,” Maddie soothed. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. How about you put your bag down right next to you?”
Sonic hesitated, then nodded and shrugged the pouch off from his shoulders. A little chink of metal came from the leather when he set it onto the tile floor.
Maddie reached over and pulled down the shower head. She turned on the water and let it flow between her fingers, taking note how Sonic jumped at the sudden spray of water hitting the tub. His grip on the tub tightened and he stared fearfully at the shower.
“How’s this temperature?” Maddie moved the stream of water closer and gestured for Sonic to place his hand underneath to test if it was too hot. He complied, held his fingers there for a moment, then pulled back with a nod. “Good? Awesome. Step on in, kid.”
She held the water away from Sonic as he tentatively entered the tub, struggling a little due to his ankle. Once he was standing with a hand wrapped around the handle bar, Maddie slowly brought the water to his feet, then his legs, then up his body to his shoulders. She went slow so Sonic could get used to it. He watched warily but didn’t say anything or move out of the way.
“Tom, the soap,” Maddie called. Tom immediately grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the shelf and held it at the ready. “Sonic, this needs to get scrubbed into your fur, okay? Do you want to or should we?”
“I can,” Sonic replied timidly, offering his free hand for the soap. Tom put some on the waiting glove, enough to hopefully cover the kid’s body.
Sonic seemed to know instinctively what to do as he ran the soap over and into his fur. He scrubbed it in, gentle around his injury, but struggled to reach his back.
“I can get it,” Tom offered. Sonic gave him a fearful look but turned away, a sign to go ahead. Tom carefully and slowly massaged the shampoo into Sonic’s fur, avoiding his spikes.
Maddie then ran the shower over the suds. They all watched them wash down the drain, taking mud and leaves with it. Sonic’s fur, despite being wet, lightened to a more vivid shade of blue.
“We should get your, uh…spiky things,” Tom realized.
“They’re quills,” Sonic muttered under his breath.
“Right. Quills.” Tom gave Maddie a disbelieving glance behind Sonic’s back. “What are you, exactly?”
Sonic sent him an offended look. “I’m a hedgehog,” he replied. “I feel like that’s obvious.”
It is now, Maddie thought to herself with a small smile, connecting the quills to the species. “Well, Sonic the Hedgehog,” she hummed, “would you rather be the one to clean your quills or have one of us do it?”
“No, I can,” Sonic repeated from before. “I know how.” You don’t went unsaid.
Tom put more shampoo on the kid’s hand, and he ran it through the quills with care. His fingers carded through the spines and came out brown from dirt. He had difficulty reaching the farthest ones, but this time, refused to accept help. After a bit of struggling, he glanced at Maddie.
She dutifully poured water over his head, being careful of his ears, and Sonic continued to comb through the quills to get all the soap out. He let out a subconscious sigh of relief when all the dirt and grime washed free.
Despite the warm water, though, he still shivered. Either the cold had really set in, or he was sick. Maddie decided to tackle that after everything else—more food, treating his ankle, and a good night’s sleep.
When they were sure that all the soap and mud was gone, Maddie turned off the water. Tom handed her a green towel, which she wrapped around Sonic’s little form. “Go ahead and dry off,” she advised.
Sonic nodded in understanding and started toweling off. It didn’t take long for him to be satisfied; his fur was still damp, but he wasn’t dripping water everywhere. He quickly grabbed his leather pouch and draped it back over his shoulder like he refused to separate from it. With Maddie’s help, he stepped out of the tub and they walked back into the kitchen.
The soup was still hot, so Maddie immediately gave Sonic another serving. He ate at a much steadier rate this time, but still pretty quickly. When he was done, Tom placed the bowl in the sink and Maddie brought out her medical bag.
“Let’s treat that ankle now, yeah?” She offered. Sonic shrugged sleepily as he leaned sideways against the table, offering his ankle. “I’m just gonna wrap it with some bandage for stabilization. Let me know if it hurts at any time, okay? I do need to take your sock off for this, though, and dry the fur.” She nodded to Tom, who understood, and went to find her hair dryer.
“Okay,” Sonic whispered, curling his fingers around his bag as if preparing for the worst. His ears flattened and he pointedly looked away as Maddie gingerly removed the damp old sock. He startled somewhat when the hair dryer began blowing hot air onto the fur, but he eventually, slowly, relaxed.
When the fur dried, Maddie found some sparkly blue vet wrap and expertly wove it around the joint, not too tight but enough that the compression would hopefully reduce the swelling. She didn’t need to move his ankle once, and he never made a noise of complaint. She finished in record time and pressed the loose end in place, attached to itself.
“All done,” she declared. “Do you want your sock back on?”
Sonic nodded eagerly and helped her wiggle it back onto his foot. He seemed much more comfortable afterwards, and tested the movement of the ankle. “Thank you,” he whispered, ducking his head.
“Now that that’s settled,” Tom mused, “we should all get some sleep.”
“R-right,” Sonic stuttered with a shiver. “I-I can go now.”
Tom and Maddie both reeled in surprise. “No, no, Sonic,” Maddie pressed. “You don’t have to leave. You can sleep on the couch.”
Sonic stared at her with wide eyes. Did he really think they were gonna kick him out back into the rain? Maddie’s heart melted even more. This poor kid…had he ever been properly cared for?
“C’mere.” Maddie offered her hand again. Sonic took it with less reluctance than before, using her help to limp over to the couch. He hopped up onto the cushion and immediately let out a gasp of surprise as it sank under his weight.
“Soft, right?” Tom smiled. “One of our favorites.”
Sonic crawled over to the arm rest, where a pillow lay tucked into the corner. His eyes widened at the softness as he let his head relax, and he pulled his bag up towards his chest where he could wrap his arms around it.
Maddie chuckled and grabbed one of the blankets draped across the back. She folded it to a smaller size and nestled it half over Sonic’s body. “There’s more if you get cold,” she told him. The hedgehog alien pulled it up to his chin and wriggled slightly so it wrapped around him better. “We’re right down the hall if you need anything, ‘kay?”
Sonic nodded dazedly, already looking half-asleep.
“G’night, kiddo,” Tom called as he began checking to make sure the windows were locked and curtains pulled shut.
“Sleep well,” Maddie added, gently patting the lump where Sonic’s arm rested.
He watched them leave and turn off the lights with half-lidded eyes.
Once they were in their own room, door ajar, Tom let out a laugh of disbelief.
“No one is gonna believe us,” he whispered in awe. “This is so…”
“It’s crazy,” Maddie agreed. “But we can’t tell anyone. Not until we know more.”
Tom nodded in agreement, still looking astonished. “Poor kid. Hope he opens up more.”
“Give him time,” Maddie hummed. “He’s probably been through a lot. We can deal with it in the morning.”
“Okay,” Tom agreed with a wide yawn. “In the morning.”
Exhaustion pulled them both down into the realm of sleep quickly, despite the excitement that they had an alien hedgehog child in their living room.