PERILOUS BEAUTY

Sonic the Hedgehog and other characters in this story are copyrighted by their owners. All other material, which may include: places, ideas, themes, terms, ect., are also copyrighted by their owners.

This tale is set far into the Post-Doomsday era of the SatAM series of Sonic the Hedgehog.

UPON a time of bitter, upon the horizon and everything beneath, where warm diminished, cold persisted, moistness lived, and dryness slept. Upon death, where suffering, calamity, and dismay endured. For the longest time in the universe, and in the shortest time of nothing, broadcasting ubiquitously from here and there, illuminating from the rest of the surroundings, the fall of summer occurring met with the eyes of an elderly woman. At her home standing on the cold porch steps she could not help but gaze into the front lawn, past the picket-like fence viewing decayed auburn and dead trees with a line of dull pine trees standing behind them. With her gaze fixated in the direction of home for many years, before she had retreated to this lonely home some distance away, the capital city of Mobotropolis had been where she ruled as Queen of all Mobius, a position achieved after an adventurous time of her life.

Many decades have passed since he had been at her side, since that adventuresome time; many years of solitude, of tears, of wonder, of enigma of the soul. A dream during her youth revealed that the end shall emerge at the beginning of the snow, but how wrong are dreams at times? She knew, however, that there are dreams for every one, even for her; a dream where she would awaken and see him, a dream where he would be there again, but dreams sometimes enjoy only tormenting the souls of many instead. Whenever days like these came around–sometimes just any day–but especially a day like this one, memories of him resided, on that last day she saw him he had felt the same as this bitter day, these, cold lonely, eternal days.

He needed to be there to give the rest of her life meaning and truth she knew as she went back inside the house. A house permeated with many objects of greenery, the windows, the ceils, the blatant exterior, the comfortable interior, just about all the house had a natural sophistication throughout every season, also many objects have rested in their designated places for the longest time. With a few new items each year, after all, she had been Queen, but the time came for some one else to rule and stepping down came one soon day. Her eyes fell upon thing to thing, from ancient to modern, to young and old: pictures, painting, plants, and candles lived about. The ceiling was practically empty except for a fan or a plant, the floors of this two-story house featured what many houses had–chairs, tables, couches, mats, all lived in this house with her sharing solitude in common.

Next to the kitchen a special brownish bookshelf stood out from the pastel white walls where she had moved herself. On all the shelves and at the top rested pictures, older pictures of memories, figurines, older books, which she felt like grabbing, she read time and time again during her youth, but sometimes the objects induced painful memories of the past. She had grown weak, virtually no color sparkled in her hair, and in this house of solitude, how much time was left? How long before the end came and took her away? How much more enduring of this loneliness?

But with a knock on the door, maybe this loneliness would vanish. If only you had kept looking out for them a few minutes longer on the porch. Importantly, however, the long awaited day had just arrived. A day when the crowd moved out of the way, when the clouds parted, or when the rain stopped just for her. Many years had been put into this miracle of a day, which had been inexplicably forgotten with the years that traveled by only with the remnants of his remembrance.

She stepped out onto the porch to see some one had walked down to the picket-like fence and stopped. This person probably thought she had fallen asleep. Over seventy with a new century to come this year, she knew that it would be the last century of the war, ample sleep was required for her body that she managed to keep remarkably healthy over the years. She needed him to stay and she found herself calling out his name. When he turned around single beams of twilight broke through the clouds hiding his figure in the shades of the dim day. He was her age too, his wrinkled and droopy face, his rusty tusks, those ancient eyes revealed all what life had taken out of him, however, a smile crept along his face when he saw her. She returned the smile and called out, “You’ve changed,” Sally said. Rotor’s smile became laughter, which filled the front yard, and the twilight made itself prominent over the house.

“Yeah, I have one more wrinkle than I did last month when I saw you, and one less hair too,” Rotor said, pointing to his scalp. The reason for his arrival was of great importance. Something divine and grandiose had been discovered, and because of this, hopes had felt renewed. Rotor waved to a hover unit Sally had missed in the background. In an instant the hover unit lifted from the ground, floated through the air, and landed quickly back down just outside the fence. Sally approached the fence where Rotor stood, and knew the craft’s pilot was Antoine because he maneuvered the craft excellently like many had witnessed in the HU races. No sooner did she complete that thought, Antoine stepped out of the hover unit. He looked back inside the craft after having moved away from it. A look of bewilderment fell upon his face from realizing some one was having difficulty inside the hover unit. Antoine walked back over to the hover unit; Rotor turned around and let go of the fence gate.

Before they knew it and with more meaning this time, Rotor and Sally embraced in a hug, and both of them remembering how scarce they have seen one another, and they have nearly forgotten the handshake like they once did as Freedom Fighters. Sally closed her eyes as the wind picked up shutting the gate with a loud click. The click went ignored and the two kept on hugging. When the feeling had just about subsided, Sally opened her eyes to see, coming to the fence walked a person–no, it couldn’t be him. She let go of Rotor and stepped back. He continued to look at her because he had already seen it. Antoine and Tails struggled to get some one to the fence. This person the two were holding acted much older than any of them. Sally stepped back once more, covered her mouth, as a tear fell from her eye. A bombardment of memories and experiences flooded her mind. The tear reached her chin and eventually fell off it to the grass.

Antoine and Tails were escorting Sonic the Hedgehog, holding him up by the arms the best they could. Sonic struggled to walk, nonetheless, he was walking, breathing, giving all signs of life any being would. Sally had heard about it much earlier, but seeing the real thing, seeing the day come true–like in a fairy tale, pounded her heart harder, her mind raced to and fro more than ever. He was alive, quite alive. How she missed him.

Antoine and Tails came upon the other side of the fence. Time had manifested itself in them too. The same features of old could be seen on them. But despite them–Rotor, Tails, Antoine, and even her, Sonic looked the youngest. Now his body was limp and skinny, his head tilted down as if mourning some one who had just passed away. Sally moved to the fence again and observed Sonic. It was indescribable, but there he was again, alive and standing there with them all on this day.

Rotor interrupted because he felt the need to get inside with Sonic. Rotor opened the gate again allowing Antoine and Tails to take Sonic to the house. Sally and Rotor ran ahead to open the door allowing them to all get inside. They entered the house with the cold day behind them still escaping from the shadows.

Rotor and Sally scurried into the house to let Antoine and Tails set Sonic down on a chair. Sally closed the doors, turned around, and stared at Sonic. During that time, many thoughts, many glances, many face changes, but very little moment happened. Nevertheless, Rotor eventually squatted down to Sonic.

“Would any one like some cookies or tea?” Sally said. The scent of cookies and tea pervaded the house.

“That’s ok my princ...your majesty,” Antoine said. Age had caught up with him, but his spirit still felt young. Out of all of them standing, he looked and felt the healthiest. Being a royal guard, a successful one during and throughout his life, always gave him that extra strength and stamina.

“I‘m fine,” Tails said. He was the youngest Freedom Fighter, but still old enough to look like the others. There has always been a quietness, a curiousness, a calmness, a taming of the soul-like quality about Tails. Undoubtedly bright, however, not smarter than Rotor with mechanics, or Antoine at the military, or Sally in politics, but especially much more. He even has the gift of flying by propelling his two tails. Right now his full attention was to Rotor who still continued studying Sonic.

The staring, standing, waiting for something to happen continued. When Rotor had just about finished, Sonic begun to look around, to discern this place, to become one with the world again. Silent as ever, Sonic studied life itself, and this satisfied Rotor.

“Ok, everything’s ready here,” Rotor said, with that youthful optimism in him. Something Sally was glad to perceive.

“What happens now?” Sally said, observing Sonic.

“We’ve done all we can, now, it is up to Sonic,” Rotor said, and he stepped away from the chair as the others still watched. With their observations convinced and the time getting late, Sally’s guests desired to depart.

“If I may take my leave,” Antoine said.

“Go ahead,” Sally said. Sally missed Antoine’s company, but now was not the time to stay, not after this. Tails asked if he could leave; Sally said that he could. But not seeing them off without a hug each. Antoine went first, his uniform still smelled fresh to her nose, his body clearly stronger, and his soul felt genuine and true. Tails was next–a sternness emanated from his soul. A sternness from calmness, from quietness, from serenity. He had always been the young innocent kid in Knothole. And Sally knew deep down that she loved him. Antoine and Tails left the house chatting alone the way to the hover unit. It was required for Rotor to stay longer, this was beyond anything ever accomplished.

Rotor turned to Sally as her hand turned a knob of a lantern that brightened the room. The days turned to nights swiftly. Sally had to prepare herself for the near-constant darkness once again. They turned to the chairs and knew, that although this person in the chair had died, on this day they decided to finally amend a new longevity.

“So, how’ve thing’s been,” Rotor said. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and his arms extended out.

“It’s been, well, lonely–,” Sally said.

“It sure feels that way, it sure does,” Rotor said. He sat back in the chair.

“So, how’s it been for you,” Sally said to Rotor. She glanced over to Sonic, which Rotor did the same without moving his head. Then, the most terrible memories flooded the room; seeing that being sitting there with them was the most perilous, but most wondrous aspect to ponder. Sonic had died many years ago. The time was evening during that year Mobius had regained its freedom. Years ago Robotnik, who had done everything terrible imaginable–bashing Sally’s father, the rightful ruler the king, invading their home, pervading their lives with darkness, changing the planet into a metallic mass for what felt like the longest time, nonetheless, he eventually failed and his nephew Snively took his place, who failed, and eventually joined the Freedom Fighters. It was Wizard Naugus’s turn soon after, and he put up a fight against the Freedom Fighters, but eventually failed as well.

In the end it came down to Sonic and Robotnik again, and that last battle took the time away–well, it would have, if there was one. Robotnik went insane and vowed to destroy the Freedom Fighters at all costs. Robotnik had caught them, they thought they were done for right there, although Robotnik’s fate was seal he said he’d take them all with him. He would have been right if Sonic didn’t show up. It became clouded remembering the exact events unfold. But in no time did Sonic free them, and he told them all to leave, that he would catch with them. But once they had escaped one person knew he wouldn’t be coming back.

“It’s beyond any words I can say, really it is,” Sally said. She had turned back to Rotor then to Sonic. A sense of wrong encompassed her soul, but when the memory of solitude entered her head. Guilt diminished.

“I’m just glad we were able to preserve him after we found him in the rubble,” Rotor said, “my friend...our friend,” there was a long pause, “died. I didn’t know if I could do it.” He reminisced of the hard work, and pain and agony of seeing this through; Sir Charles, Sonic’s uncle also know as Chuck, and Rotor worked hard all those years, although Chuck had died years ago–not too long after words his notes helped in Sonic’s revival. Time and time again had passed after that, and in fact, the discovery had been found years before from to-day, but with problems arising, and with many whom opposed it. This thing they were not suppose to do.

“In the back of his neck is a very sophisticated microchip, you’ve read all about it, Sally.” Rotor said.

Sally nodded her head.

“It’s what’s stimulating his vital systems, including his brain, technically he is alive.” Rotor turned his full attention to Sonic. The being sitting on the chair continued to lapse in and out of reality, although not apparent on the interior, deep down they knew his soul was swimming in an abyss of darkness.

“He’s–he’s.” Sally closed her mouth still watching Sonic. She stopped herself from crying with a good memory of their relationship. Rosie, Chuck, her father, and–Bunnie had all passed away. One night around ten years ago, Sally had been visiting Bunnie. And they had chose to sleep in separate quarters for Tails’s birthday the next morning. The first day there, Sally had enjoyed her time with Bunnie. She said Bunnie entered her room with a smile on her face, and a brightness of her soul in her eyes. Bunnie said goodnight to Sally, and promised to tell her that secret she’s kept for so long in the morning. With the happiest smile on her face and resting in a true state of peace, Bunnie was found in her bed not to wake up again.

Rotor and Sally talked for a few minutes longer until he decided to get up from the chair and head for the door.

“This is remarkable, Rotor, tha...” But she knew it was wrong. A slight nod of Rotor’s head confirmed he had heard her. He told Sally that he’d get the door. Sally stood up from the chair then tiptoed her way to the window. Antoine had come back and was waiting for Rotor between the house and the fence.

“You know what to do,” Rotor said to Antoine.

Sally’s face could be seen in the window. Rotor continued.

“You must stay in a hover unit until I know if Sonic works correctly.”

“Yes,” Antoine said. He opened the gate with Rotor.

“Lets not take this lightly, you only know how she’s been lately, that’s why she needs him.” Rotor closed the gate after he and Antoine went through it. They had brought two hover units with them. One in front of the house, another rested in a dense thicket near the house. They planned to leave then drop off Antoine close to the other hover unit.

Sally slid the silhouetted curtain shut oblivious to anything Antoine or Rotor had said, but knew what they had in mind. Sonic had ceased his observations and sat completely still in the chair that Sally had turned to and watched. And knew she wouldn’t be alone with him, and after all this time she finally had him back. The kitchen stood ready as her means of comfort. She went in to a cabinet, took out a glass and a bottle of wine, sat down at a counter stool, and poured herself a drink. She sipped her wine, and was facing into the living room where he sat, and wondered, if only he’d come into the kitchen, if only he’d join her in a drink.

After some time alone in the kitchen, the surroundings became dreary, which gave her the need to calm her spirit, her soul, her wandering mind and frail body. Something had to be around for her to find comfort–then she knew. She stood up from the stool, turned around and headed through the kitchen into a hall, which led to a door. The old handle turned slowly, carefully, and eventually the door opened revealing her to the outside. A large garden lay in front of her that filled half the backyard, and the never-ending tree line circled prominently around the house. Except for a solitary tract of road that led to a place she had visited often. Along the way lived a small grove within the forest, but beyond that, lied a site she had become familiar with. In no time, she stepped off the porch, made her way away from the house, as the nighttime pressed on, through the trail to that site. When she reached the grove the memories of how she would love to sit in it all day, reading, watching the flowers during the spring to blossom, or pondering about him or anything else brought happiness to her heart.

Soon, a new view of life broadcasted before her. At a cliff on the coast where she stood gazing into the expanse, as far as her sight conveyed, observing the entire spectacle. A tree towered near that she had got to known. Standing next to the tree, she braced herself on the side, and wrapped her arm around it the best she could; then, turned back to her original view and gazed at all–the omniscient ominous dark clouds and the twilight upon the distant horizon, the blue surface of the waves, which eventually turned into a sorrowful ebony towards the depths, were painted by the radiant golden hue of the twilight, the water switching back and forth among the colors within the waves that raced one another in the ocean and crashed into the cliff below. Lightning rushed down from the distant clouds. During summer luminous warm colors broadcasted at sunset. Tranquility, mellowness, with a gentle warm wind, and serenity would be the day. This scene, however, inexplicitly different, but some how even more beautiful.

In it all, she saw life itself riding these observations into existence, she saw herself and her father and her friends, every one she had known, her whole lifetime, all projected by this spectacle. Rosie’s wondrous figure, Chuck’s wisdom in his eyes, her father’s genuine look of love for her, and even Bunnie’s smile of curiosity gleamed.

In this scene she saw one more person, Sonic the Hedgehog was circling the distant lightning, skating on the dark clouds, and running over the deep dark blue water. He had just came from Knothole to meet her, to be with her, like they always did. This spectacular picture passed comprehension, leaping into the deepest soul of her heart. Sally took a breath as the wind picked up causing her dress to flap. All her friends and loved-ones have entered her soul to play. To-day, in this scene, she felt it prudent to let them out over the foreboding but inviting horizon. Her hair bounced around her head, her sleeves went uncontrolled, and her eyes were revitalized by the wind. A lifetime passed through her soul, those days as a Freedom Fighter, a Princess, a Queen, and importantly herself, will not happen again, but will always be remembered. The breeze continued on and captured her once more, before it let go.

She had left the cliff some time ago to have made it back to the grove as the moonlight glittered through the parting clouds as the evening chill still grew. Centered in the grove–stood a person right before her. Looking up, she jumped back in fear. As if a gray statue from the reflecting moonlight, its eyes were wide open, staring, its jaw hanging down, its posture limb, and its mind like in a trance. She could feel her heart disappear and reappear from the sudden appearance of it, but a more careful observation of the statue-like figure in the moonlight revealed it was him–Sonic had followed her, struggling to get there.

“Sal...,” he said.

Sally dashed into the grove, and felt sad of this calamity of a miracle.

Before she knew it, she had ran over and wrapped her arms around him.

“Don’t ever leave me again, Sonic, don’t...”

“I won’t...Sal.”

With the darkness almost in full bloom, the couple arrived at the pale house visible in the nightlight. Quiet, discernable noises that slipped through the grass made themselves heard, but had gone unnoticed by the couple entering the house. After she helped him inside, the cool night air was felt floating around, it had not grown much colder by then; but very soon, when winter showed up, the shutters had to be closed, and they had to stay indoors allowing the world to cover itself with a pure layer of dreams.

The next day arrived with breakfast on the tabled Sally had prepared. She felt honored to cook, whether it was a passing Mobian or one of her friends, having some one around made her happier.

Sally helped Sonic down the stairs to the table. He moved seldom because his motor functions still needed to develop. Nonetheless, the deeds are a task she chose to endure, she thought of this as she sat him in the chair, and she went over and sat in a chair across from him. He looked drowsy, his eyes were half way shut, his breathing slow, and bags could be seen under his eyes.

On the table orange juice, toast, jelly, fruit, water, tea, and other breads like pastries and croissants sat on it. Sally filled her plate and she instructed Sonic to do the same, but he would not comply. He was instructed again and again, until he reached for food for his plate. He grabbed pieces of food one by one and studied one if it looked interesting. Sally smiled after Sonic had filled his plate properly. She began to sip juice from her cup when an uncomfortable feeling patted her forehead. She looked up to see Sonic drinking and eating ridiculously like a little child, like he has eaten nothing ever.

“Sonic, that’s not the way to eat,” Sally said. But Sonic kept at a croissant, munching it.

“Sonic!”

He came to a halt staring right at her. Sally set down her cup and continued.

“You probably don’t care about this, but if you continue to eat the way you do, you might choke or get ulcers.”

Then, juice trickled out of his mouth and dripped off his chin onto the table.

“Sonic–” Sally said. Had he forgotten how to eat? Or was this an attempt at a sense of humor, she could only exercise her deductions. She stood up from her chair, went over to Sonic, and wiped up his mess with a few towels. Innocence could be seen in his eyes, now wide and normal. She grabbed his chin and wiped that off with a fresh towel.

“Sonic, that was not funny,” Sally said, looking away and smiling.

Sonic finished chewing the food he had bitten and swallowed it. The damp towels flew into the sink; Sally turned back to Sonic.

“You can continue eating if you don’t do that again,” Sally said. Sonic responded by licking his lips clean of the juice she didn’t wipe, Sally gave up on trying to reason with him and went back and sat down on her chair watching him closely. After waiting for a few minutes to see if he would pull another trick, Sally changed her view back to her plate after he didn’t do anything. After looking all over her plate for what to eat next, Sally picked up a strawberry, and so did Sonic, which she had not noticed. She took a small bite of the strawberry; Sonic did the same. A cup of juice went to her lips, and he mimicked.

Eventually after a few times of that, Sally looked up to Sonic and smiled. Then, something incredible happened, he grabbed a strawberry, put it in his mouth, and ate it all on his own. The length of her smile increased as she put down her utensil. The food still entered as if drifting from the plate into his mouth. She was glad to see him eating again.

Onward the morning went, for years and years Sally toiled at the chores–the weeding, the watering of plants, the planting of them, even the tiding up of small things, and to just sit around, out of the question, no–a beautiful swimming spot nearby is where she planned on taking Sonic some time in the future, with a simple walk there–until he was able to run again; a boat ride, a tree climb maybe, or even riding a hover scooter through the forest–after the daily chores though. Ideas needed sharing, experiences had to be undergone–not that a second chance felt divine either way, but, prevailing once again, the reality of experiencing the life and living with some one close again came true. Contemplating this insoluble time was undoubtedly necessary, but she had to ask herself the price. Every aspect of life inquired a universe of questions. Will this second chance by any means come close to answering any of them?

The charging morning traveled through the forest and the middle of the afternoon took over now. Sally continued with the daily routines while planning to enjoy her time with him again. Hand in hand, Sonic and Sally started for their first destination–to a small stream with a bridge over it, the simple flow of water, each small curve and unique layout of ebb and flow amazed her. She took a leaf from the flat wooden rail and dropped it into the water to watch it float down the stream, then she would smile at the stream, this time both of them did it together.

The next stop was the small grove, with the moderate day persisting, the couple enjoyed their stay as the continuous ivory glow of the sky overhead witnessed all, the boundless tree line reminded them of their privacy as did the small bushes and tall grass around them. Sonic plucked a blade of grass from the ground and tickled Sally’s nose with it, her old voice squeaked with laughter. Still less than a third her age, he managed to return in a way and managed to say a few words about the surroundings, about the grass, and the trees, and the bushes, and the glowing sky. The experience gloomed changing into a forbidding irredeemable passion, and if time had been stricken in a wake of sorrow, the malady of the picture pervaded around them ignored by all. Despite the recent gloom, both of them left the grove to their next destination the cliff.

The thundering yesterday had vanished by being cleansed with the flow of white purifying clouds still endless on to every horizon. The couple viewed afar by every cloud, by every aspect of existence, stood proudly together side by side on this great world called home; because of them, aspects of existence remained streaming through time, because the couple had saved this world allowing it to become what it is now.

It was some time later before they headed back observing each rock along the way, each patch of dirt, each leaf, every blade of grass. The couple came out of the tract of road, passed through the garden, and didn’t stop until they reached the porch of the back door. Sonic stood with his back to the door staring into the clouds of this world. Sally stood right in front of him where she took his attention away from the clouds. Much had happened and changed. They looked one another in the eye, it could have been for eternity, but they finally embraced. Sally held on as tight as she could; Sonic held on but not as tight. To dither on this moment could only lead to lugubrious consequences, and had to realize they had each other. Sonic felt a wetness on his shoulder–tears. She was weeping. But he ignored this thing she was doing, and did want she wanted to do most. But both of them could only hold one another, to share this life together as long as it lasted.

They had lunch, and afterwards they stepped into the living room where Sally would reminisce about the past. Knothole, the place where she had lived during cub hood and adolescences, and how it was he who saved them all, even her. She spent most of her adult life without him and always wondered if he had been there.

“...and remember the ring grotto?” Sally said, holding up the picture. Sonic glanced at the picture tilting his head slightly. He hadn’t said a word about the photos yet.

“...Rosie had a child just as our time in Knothole ended. Do you remember, Sonic? And here he is again celebrating his first birthday.” Sally held out the two pictures to Sonic still staring with a flat expression. This happened all the way until evening. One more picture came up.

“And Nicole.” Sally held out the picture of her unique hand-held device called Nicole that now floated in a museum behind a tube for all to witness, and a panel for all to learn. Sally included some personal experiences with Nicole, but Sally winked at Sonic and said she hadn’t said anything too personal, or said anything too funny to Nicole. Some things are just meant to remain in the past. Sally told Sonic.

Dinner came around, potatoes, bread, gravy, other vegetables, and wine sat on the table. By now, Sonic knew how to eat, which utensils to use, and when to drink. Through the window, outside the clouds have all but gone, and the heavens glowed brighter from the never-ending sparkling stars ruling the sky. Whenever one sparkled exceptionally bright during some nights, Sally went into her room, climb onto the roof through the attic, and made a wish. Nothing but her and the moon and the stars, but to-night would be an exception. To-night she could thank the stars by knowing she would never have to wish upon one again.

That night after a visit on the roof trying to find every pattern or constellation in the sky, the couple decided to retire. After remembering that the stars would stare down upon her world, since her birth, during her life, in Knothole where she would view the stars with him, and she did again to-night, on this night, like in Knothole, and from her balcony in the palace–alone, another great scene waiting to be transcended upon.

Sally and Sonic slept in bed together after many decades. He had slept in one of the guestrooms the day before to adapt to sleeping. Now, Sally trusted him explicitly, and they kissed goodnight with a smile. Genuine smiles in the cascading moonlight from a window shinning upon the bed, where the couple now lied underneath its covers.

“Sonic, did you like...to-day?” Sally said, yawning and turning in the bed slightly.

“Yes, Sal,” Sonic said, he remained still, with a smile still on his face.

“Good.” And sleep began to overcome her. Sonic put his arm over her waist and made himself comfortable by turning and facing away from the moonlight like her. In a hospital a newborn had begun witnessing his first moonlight, time was just beginning, just like Sonic’s; and for Sally, time was coming to an end. But before the end came, she knew they would always have their love, that after she died he would join her one day, they needed to be together now, for a completion to descend. Leaving this place from under the stars, just like many things have and will.

By this time sleep had conquered Sally, with the help of Sonic’s gentle breath on the back of her neck–her breathing slight but powerful in itself–Sonic had yet to fall asleep, and had been awake even through the night before, but chose to fall asleep this time–he let his eyes fall and whispered one last word before the darkness surrounded him.

“Sal–”

A few days had passed, Sally finished the chores again then headed into the house to see what Sonic had been doing all morning. She came over–and at first noticed the table very colorful, but a careful observation revealed he had been drawing all morning with colored pencils. She had taught him to draw a couple days ago, any ideas he saw in his mind or felt in his heart. Then she requested specific drawings, and specific themes, all the way down to preciseness, but this time he had been drawing on his own and the pictures were pleasant yet mysterious to the eye. One picture was filled with near grayness, knife-like and flat gray objects–another picture sat on the far edge of the table; she took particular interest in another one. Apparently the picture consisted of two hearts, two real hearts, as if outside of the body, the blood the right color, the look perfect, the veins flooding the whole page, and the impression that the hearts were beating. Sonic had outdone himself.

“Do you like it, Sal?” Another drawing looked simpler, simpler shapes of triangles, squares, cubes, and circles all to represent the grove experience. This was a beginning indeed. Sally looked at him and rested her hand on his shoulder.

Noon strode in sooner than expected. Another cool pallid day fell upon the house. Sonic had rummaged through a closet and found something that captured his curiosity. He left for the garden with what he had found in hand.

Sally had been working about and lost Sonic along the way. She entered the kitchen to find him missing and the drawings and colored pencils alone on the table. After some time of checking around, she found him sitting on the ground in the middle of the empty garden. He was in a trace again, staring at the ground as if it were calling him. Seeds rested in the palm of his clenched fist, the memories of the garden planting seeds with Bunnie in Knothole danced about in Sonic’s mind.

“Like this,” Sally said, and she poked a hole in the ground digging her finger into the damp, dry soil; then took her finger out of the soil. A seed fell into the hole, and she dug it out with her finger. A gentle breeze picked up blowing her dress slightly as she handed him a seed. Sonic pushed into the soil slow as ever, past his first knuckle, then his second knuckle, and on. He removed his figure receiving a good feel of the soil. After observing the little bean-like object, Sonic put the seed over the hole and let go. Down it went, and he patched up the dirt. Deciding to leave this one be, Sally turned to Sonic and looked into his deep fathomless eyes, like this day, which soon felt as if preparing for the soon to be dawn of winter. Until then, actions needed consideration, like where to go, some time would have to pass before she revealed herself with him in public, and she would have to isolate herself off from the outside world, and hope no one would discover her secret; but, being with him would be worth it all.

Weeks had gone by, the ponds froze over, the grass crunched underfoot, the trees stood cold and lonely, and the soil was hard as rock. Everything had an iciness, a frostiness, as if fallen into an early winter sleep not to wake up even for the brightest sunlight. The couple spent their time together before the world reached its slumber, snow had yet to fall. The house had been sealed off, and those unaccustomed to the weather begun staying indoors. In the cold white winter days ahead plans were made, when the snow covered the world, to see the crystalline snow sparkle from the translucent sunrise, the retreat from a smooth, desolate plane, or a bleak horizon.

The onslaught of winter was only beginning, making the white nights special would be no exception with the invitation of Rotor, Antoine, and Tails. This year, Sonic would be with them again, and he had been brought back. Bringing back Bunnie came to mind, but was refuted because every one knew she had found happiness and what she was looking for. Sally knew Bunnie was ok, she was ok.

A fire roared silently in the fireplace. With this extremely cold night, the fire failed to heat Sally’s blood. During the evenings Sally and Sonic would talk, read, or relax, but right now, Sonic gazed out the window, which Sally looked to him wondering why. Over the weeks, some of Sonic’s old attitude had returned, his motor functions improved, and he could even run about a bit.

Everything began returning to normal with Sonic’s new wellness, however, Sally became indifferent. A sense of hopelessness, of depression, of that bitter solitude again entered her soul. As if she were alone in front of the fire, its warmth only to be felt by her. A strange aura wandered about, whenever she tried to share a moment with him, his mind would wander about too. His emotions came late or prematurely, as if he was out of focus with reality.

One similar even a few days later is when she wanted to find out why.

“Hello, I’m seeking Rotor Walrus,” Sally said. She had activated a monitor on a desk in the far side of the room. It enabled her to connect to the outside world, and for it to connect to her.

About a minute later, Rotor’s face appeared on the monitor.

Why, hello, your majesty, I think I know what you want to talk about, he said. Sally spoke up the best she could, “if I know you you’ll tell me how nice this weather is, I hate it!” Sally said. Rotor giggled; Sally spoke up again.

“How are things goin’ for you?” She looked straight into the monitor.

Same old, same old–everything as always.

“Well, I think you need to come over here, I’m concerned with Sonic’s emotions, he doesn’t feel well. He laughs and cries for no reason...he laughed at a wall for ten minutes the other day.” Sally and Rotor did not laugh but instead looked at one another with slight frowns. Sally looked up from the monitor to see Sonic had entered the room unseen, and held out a picture for her to see. He laughed and held out the picture closer. On the picture he had drawn all over Rotors face–giving him horns, a beard, and a long pointy nose. If he had drawn on anything weeks ago, then she might have understood, but she really didn’t, nonetheless, an unbearable empathy entered her heart.

“I think you should get over here, Rotor,” Sally said, turning off the monitor.

“He’s comin’ here, oh, goodie, way past–cool!” Sonic said. Sonic ran into the hallway and returned in an instant with more pictures that he had drawn on. They were pictures of their friends. One picture had Bunnie with an extra large nose, on another he gave Tails glasses way too big for his head, then he had drawn on a picture of Sally flowers surrounding her; but, he held out one more that made her laugh. Sonic had drawn a very long and sinister looking sword on Antoine in a very inappropriate spot. Sally nearly died of laughter as she fell to the floor. Sonic fell down and joined in her amusement. She had begun to cry, but Sonic laughed all the way through. He ceased to laugh before she had recovered and took the pictures to hang back on the wall in the hallway that led to the backdoor. He hung them all in a logical fashion paying close attention to where Sally’s picture was placed, which made it above the beating hearts picture. Sonic gave no names to his drawings, Sally did though.

Back in the living room a picture still lied on the floor. Sally wiped her eyes and picked up the picture as she stood. It was the picture of Bunnie, and as always, Sally perceived nothing from this picture because she knew that Bunnie had found her way, she had died happy, that is how it is known, that is how it is now, or she thought. Sonic came back and looked at the picture of Bunnie with Sally.

“Tails misses Aunt Bunnie, doesn’t he?” Sonic said. Sally stared as if forever at the picture unsure how to rectify an answer. Bunnie’s death seemed to be taken well, everyone said what they needed to. Her death in more than one way came to a completion, but now a sense of sorrow pervaded Sally. That he had drawn on the pictures. Not only could she find more, which Sally planned to do–but also other pictures of her family and friends rested about the house, and in her personal database. Sally gave the picture back to Sonic to hang on the wall with the others. And had to ponder how well the heart could emit the feelings of hope or disillusion, she had helped bring back Sonic, and knew there might be undesirable ramifications, and before she would have never thought twice.

The wind had picked up quickly. Sally knew Rotor had to be busy, nevertheless, he should arrive soon. Sonic had calmed down from moments ago, she saw him going about the house rapidly, until Rotor arrived, she just stared at the floor in her chair. Hot water warmed up on the stove, because of her stubbornness, Sally insisted on letting the water boil, and always admitted it tasted better if she gave it some time.

The house bestowed virtually a soundless aura minutes later, as if frozen in time from the outside world removed from all existence and stored away. No movement occurred within the house until Sonic lumbered down the stairs with a wide smile on his face.

“What is it?” Sally said looking up. Sonic pulled out from behind his back a record. Sally pushed herself up from the chair as Sonic put the record in a record player. A music both of them enjoyed as kids in Knothole started going, that is when Sonic held out his hand, which Sally grabbed onto, and they started moving about the room together.

“It was one of Rosie’s favorites,” Sally said. The calm music fit the calm dance she shared with him hand in hand. Neither of them spoke now, and she rested her head on his chest, which felt particularly strong now. Most of all, she desired to maintain their togetherness, and had gone to lengths to see this through; but, sometimes not all things go as expected, and one must realize not all things do. For now only this moment mattered, their togetherness, their bonding, with this thing called love. Feelings of this sort were felt all throughout as they continued swaying, and moved about the room to the bookshelf as the music continued, and begun moving away from it as the music ended.

Sally breathed a few words at a whisper, “the music stopped.”

“I know–Sal,” Sonic said, echoing her whisper.

Sally smiled then took a deep breath from a burning sensation in her hands. She snapped herself into reality to see Sonic squeezing her wrists.

“Sonic...what are you doing?”

“Do you love me, Sal?” His true voiced had returned, but with melancholy and rage.

“Of course...but you’re hurting, me, stop!”

“What was it Sal? What was it? What was it! Can’t I die in peace like every one else? Do I need to live, can’t I just die like the others? No, I can’t? I’m too good to stay dead, I must be alive, I must, I must I must!” His anger turned into fear, he let go of Sally, she stumbled back into the bookshelf. His hand came and slammed into a shelf next to her head. A small figurine from the top of the shelf fell to the floor and shattered. Sally tried to duck away in the opposite direction of his hand but he grabbed her shoulder with his other hand and set her back hard into the bookshelf.

“Lets just read another lousy book!” Sonic said, he took a book off the shelf and threw that into a picture. He took another book and threw that into the kitchen.

“Good, now we’ll have a place to read!”

“Sonic, don’t, you don’t know what’s happening!”

“I don’t, I really don’t? Who me, no no no no no no no no!” Sonic took Sally and threw her, his rage had overcome him.

Rotor stepped into the dim interior of the hover unit through the door escaping the roaring wind outside behind him. Tails and him came in a hover unit where they landed just on the other side of the thicket. Antoine still sat out there in this hover unit fitted for all weather conditions to monitor Sonic and Sally. Soon, however, it would be time to return home. At this moment, Antoine put down a book he had been reading while listening to music. Visual specters, state-of-the-art binoculars, by his side.

“How’s everything goin’?” Rotor said.

“I checked thee house about an hour ago, everything seems...fine.” Antoine said. He hit a button on the control console reducing the volume of his music, and marked a place in his book and shut it.

“I just got a call from Sally, has anything been going on?” Rotor said. Antoine shook his head as if oblivious to everything, even to the harsh wind outside barely audible in the hover unit. Not only that but Rotor scratched his head and knew, that although Antoine is a proven warrior during and throughout his life, his friend still some how lacked that kind of perception. Rotor took a quick glance out the window in the direction of the house. The lights from the house flickered in the pine trees violently shaking in the wind. Something felt too quiet and too uncomfortable about this setting; Rotor took no time longer to grab the visual specs and jump out of the hover unit towards the house. Antoine ran to the door of the hover unit.

She woke up to a whistling sound from the teakettle, then she remembered, Sonic! But she knew not where he was. He had thrown her across the room. She landed down near her desk where her head bumped the corner of it during her fall. It only stunned her; a bruise would appear soon. Then, she felt a cold hit her face, and she knew–the back door! She pushed herself up with her left arm and started for the back door, through the hall, into the kitchen, from the living room.

The back door rocked in the wind and a few pictures had been blown from the wall. The pictures Sonic had drawn on still hung on the wall shaking slightly from the wind, but the frail sheets of paper could not stay up. Sally crinkled the picture of the two beating hearts in her run down the hall. She did not care, and fled the house into the piercing wind. The sun had begun to go down, a dim radiant glow over the trees rendered the backyard a sheer dimness, and the tree line was barely visible from the house, all this around–but he was nowhere.

“Sonic!” She called out over the wind.

“Sonic!” She called out again, but only the wind answered. She headed out in a direction, calling out his name again and again. Hoped he hadn’t run away, hoped he’d come back, hoped he’d–

Rotor flung open the gate and bounced into the yard, he tripped, and the binoculars left his hand and flew into the thick bushes. He ignored any attempt at retrieving that and jumped onto the cold porch; before he knew it, he swung open this door with more force than before and viewed the mess before him–broken objects, displaced books on the bookshelf with a few missing, wrecked pictures, and the shattered figurine. He heard the faint sound of a teakettle, and a clicking sound from a repeating record player. Only the wind entered the house from behind him ruffling all.

Sally kept calling out and calling out running blindly into the darkness, on and on she continued desperately calling out his name. The trees danced all around her and seemed to want to reach out to abduct her, the bushes beat back and forth as if in warning, and the grass if wanting to retreat from the ground.

Before long, she had passed the grove and arrived within view of the beautiful perilous scene. Once again, that entity of every aspect of life drew closer. The deep dark blue water, the ominous clouds, with the loud crashing of waves, and the twilight all captured upon this scene.

Far above the sky loomed unpromising, as if to collapse allowing the darkness from space to spread across the horizon where it would encompass the planet; but, she could only think of him, drop down to her knees, and peer down over the cliff to the fuming water below. Had he jumped? Had Sonic gave up on this life to transcend his scene? Had there been a divine apprehension in his heart but his soul ascending into an immortal conception? She could only wonder and begin to pout. The wind threw her hair everywhere, the distant twilight illuminated strands of her medium-length hair a faded gold and left thicker strands flowing with darkness. She soon stopped crying and wiped her eyes once again; the waves raced faster and faster, and the wind seemed to blow around her as if in slow motion but still strong. She turned around; and he had been standing right there.

“Sal–” He said, stepping closer. Sally lifted herself up and tried to run forward, but he grabbed her wrists and pushed her back down on the edge of the cliff. She saw his eyes a sweltering red, and his face in an aught of sorrow.

“No, Sonic, stop!”

“Will you forgive me, Sal? Sal, will you? I hurt you, but now you’re all right, will you forgive me?” He held on tighter than ever. Sally’s heart calmed; tears ran down her face.

“Sal–” He looked straight into her face. She turned her head, eyes closed, “lets die together, Sal.”

All her heart disappeared.

“No, Sonic, stop, we don’t have to die...I forgive you.”

Sonic didn’t seem to hear.

“I forgive you!” And Sonic fell flat onto her chest. She flinched. She worried; then looked up to see that Rotor had knocked him out from behind. Without thinking, Rotor grabbed Sally’s forearm and pulled her away from Sonic, they stumbled backwards.

“Are you ok, Sally?” Rotor said. She wanted to tell him what happened but some how knew he wouldn’t understand just yet. Then, she saw Rotor flinching, his eyes widened. She turned around to see Sonic on the edge of the cliff holding the side of his head from disorientation.

“What happened to me? Where am I?” Sonic said. Rotor saw the future before him. Sonic took a step back, too far, lost his balance, and begun to fall. He began to descend looking with uncertainty at those running towards him. He saw Sally and Rotor in front, with Antoine just behind, and Tails in the way distance, as if apparitions of friends he once knew in a dream. And they were coming for him, the same way he had come for them, but it was too late.

Sonic’s chin smacked the edge of the cliff causing him to bite half way through his tongue. Blood fled his mouth and flew apart into the raging world of the wind. He fell into the side of the cliff and flipped upside down, and as he could feel the raw wind all around him, a sudden jolt entered his body as the back of his neck slapped a small ledge. He seemed to stop, as if frozen in time, although he was falling, his flailing arms were at his sides now after being extended out from moments ago.

In the final part of his drop, the distinction and nature of life dawned upon his soul, and he knew that those above would not see him again. That he could finally rest in peace. He splashed into the cold water watching four distorted figures above trying to see him; and fainter, and fainter they became as he sunk–until he vanished into the darkness of the sea. But now he was finally free, he lived the second chance bestowed upon him, a second chance that was done for him. Now it was time to be with Chuck, with Bunnie, with his parents, and with every one else, until the rest arrived; but until then, he will be there, and waiting.

The four stood on the cliff staring into the expanse, the wind had died down, and the sunlight beamed brighter through the storm. Snowflakes began to fall, and indeed it was the end of one thing, and the beginning of another. They witnessed it all, and now it was time to come to a sense of completion. They knew what they had to do as they gazed into the horizon, into this scene with the clouds, and the sunlight, and the raging water below, and the wind, to make his remembrance inevitable–to know he will never be forgotten, he had always been there, now, then, and forever, and forever it seemed, that the clouds parted and the glow of the stars reached the eyes of those below, that he had transcended it all, and was now gone forever from this scene; this scene–of perilous beauty.

–Mark Briggs