Chapter Text
It started as a simple itch, something in the back of his throat like a hair. He woke up with it in the early morning, even earlier than he normally woke up to get ready for work, but despite drinking water and forcing a couple of coughs it appeared it would simply be an annoyance for the day.
Stone quickly cleaned the small glass he used for water and set it back up in the cabinet—it had become a force of habit to clean dishes as he used them when he was a kid, make less of a mess and all. He had himself dressed, cleaned up his bed head, and was on his motorcycle riding to work in under ten minutes. He’d be early, waking up an hour before his alarm was even supposed to go off and having nothing to do at home gave him no choice.
Stone parked his motorcycle at the back of his coffee shop and went inside to do a bit of—somewhat unnecessary—cleaning. When he managed to kill the excess time he kept to his normal schedule of making himself and the doctors steamed Austrian goat milk lattes, this time with Stone's idea of what they would look like as cats made into art on top. Unfortunately, that itch still hadn’t gone away.
Stone tried a few small coughs, just biding time until Robotnik showed and something could happen to make the time pass.
A tall, slender shadow walked towards the doors, blocking the early morning light. The doors burst open as they usually would and in walked a very… tired looking Robotnik.
“Agent Stone, coffee now.” He demanded with his usual, though slightly more tired, grandeur.
“Coming, Doctor.” Stone cleared his throat slightly and whipped around the counter with Robotnik's coffee in hand.
Robotnik took a sip, “Delicious as always.” He hummed, starting to wake up a little bit more.
Stone smiled at the compliment though didn’t fall for the trick and began preparing himself for the hell that might be brought today. Agent Stone had learned how to tell when the erratic doctor might be a bit more violent in his ways after only a couple weeks, the two signs being obvious—a drag in the doctor's step and minor tiredness in his speech. Something probably didn’t go quite as planned after Stone had left the prior night.
Robotnik snapped and within seconds the inside of the building had gone from a quiet comfy cafe to an only-somewhat-secret lab. The countertop flipped into a panel with all sorts of controls, the wall behind it turned into a giant screen and the lights became blue and pink. Off to the side of everything, a tall pantry-like door opened to reveal an elevator.
Robotnik had felt that after the whole green emerald fail, what better place to set up camp and watch the “stupid blue rodent” than right in his hometown. Now of course Sonic knew that Robotnik was there as the main base of operations, but Robotnik was at least smart enough to not pull any attempts there until he had something big up his sleeve again, so it had become an unspoken rule that they left each other alone. Robotnik only tried to go after Sonic and his friends when they left town.
The doctor had a wild superstition that all his failures going against sonic was because the two humans had to secretly be some kind of other species, and that’s how the man named Tom-whose-dentist-calls-him-Tim had managed to punch him so many times. It was a stupid excuse but Stone found no harm in letting him believe it because it’s what kept Robotnik from fighting Sonic in town and possibly destroying Stone's cafe (again).
Stone followed closely behind Robotnik as he headed for the elevator where the doctor stopped just before, letting Stone step inside the small elevator. Small was sort of an understatement since it was put in last minute and really should only fit one person but Robotnik had insisted they ride down together.
He took a pencil-like form and sucked in his chest as best he could so Robotnik could squeeze in in front of him, doing just about the same except for a hand out of the way holding his coffee, so the elevator door could close. Down it went for about ten seconds, playing rather normal elevator music, both Stone and Robotnik completely silent.
Meanwhile, the cafe reverted back to normal, the sign flipping from closed to open and a poorly disguised badnik replacing Stone's role as barista. Of course no one was stupid enough to fall for it, but after the first couple days people just began to accept it since the robot made decent tasting coffee that wasn’t much of a downgrade from Stone’s.
Finally the elevator stopped, Robotnik stepping out valiantly like that wasn’t an awkward ride, and Stone catching his breath.
“Agent Stone.” Robotnik frowned, looking back behind him at the man, “You can’t take breaks after we just started, imbecile.”
Stone smiled, amused despite the insult being on him, “Yes, doctor.” He nodded and fixed his suit.
Something about the lights hurt Stone's eyes as he stepped out of the elevator, a small pinch to the front of his brain. That itch in the back of his throat and now an oncoming headache would not make the day pleasant.
Agent Stone was right on all fronts, Robotnik's machine had failed, meaning that the anger would be taken out on him, and that headache meant no good.
Robotnik had yelled, thrown insults and objects around—a few only missing Stone by the skin of his teeth—but still despite all that Stone couldn’t help but see the magnificence of his genius. By the end of the day though, the small pinch had turned into what felt like a punch to the face, and that itch had turned into a sore throat, leaving Stone a bit tired and ready to go home.
His drive home was quick, having just rented an apartment in town until they would inevitably have to disappear again. It wasn’t a bad apartment, just enough space for him though since Stone hadn’t really bothered with the decorating—past the essentials of a home like a couch, stand, tv, bookshelves, and of course his bed and bedside tables—it felt a bit quiet and lonely.
Stone made himself a quick yet tasty dinner—chicken thrown in with rice, eggs, and some fresh veggies—before partaking in his nightly run, showering, and then finally trying for sleep. Unfortunately the last part wouldn’t come so easy.
He’d managed to doze off when he first laid down and got comfortable but about every hour it felt like he was waking up feeling even more tired than the previous time. Over and over again he’d wake up and doze right back off until his alarm spooked him awake for a final time.
Stone rolled out of bed sloppily, throat dry and aching while his head was pounding. He stumbled to his kitchen, pulling out the same glass from the morning before and outing himself water from the brita filter inside the fridge—he never much cared for the taste of straight tap water. Stone took advil with his water, hoping the headache would go away before he had to work, and cleaned the glass again.
“Motherff-!” Stone gasped, his hand having hit the side of the sink in such a way that the glass broke, cutting into the palm of his hand.
Blood began to pour as Stone dropped the broken pieces of glass into the sink—luckily none of the glass dug into him in a way that stuck—and walked quickly off to his bathroom. In what must have been the sheer shock of the incident mixed with the headache, Stone felt nauseous and lightheaded, having to stop at the bathroom sink with his bleeding hand held over it so he could breath.
The nausea went away after a few deep breaths, letting Stone take care of the cuts. It totaled to four individual cuts on the palm of his hand, only one of which was the cause for the excessive amount of bleeding though luckily it didn’t call for stitches. A quick clean and wrapping of his hand let him continue on with minimal pain.
Unfortunately though, the headache and then the accident had distracted Stone from the time and now he was definitely gonna be late. He rushed to dress himself, racing out of his apartment while still doing up his tie. His hair was messy, suit wrinkled, dress shirt buttoned wonky, and his gloves entirely forgotten.
Stone, by the time he arrived at the cafe, was only a total of seven minutes late to when he was technically scheduled to be there—the schedule having been made by himself—but in reality that put him thirty seven minutes late from when he usually would get there, and a total of five minutes late in comparison to when Robotnik always showed. Put in short, he was fucked.
He raced in through the back door and to the counter, clothes all disheveled and looking like he had had a rough night out instead of what really happened.
“Agent Stone.”
Stone hadn’t even realized the front door was wide open, with Robotnik just standing there, staring forward at the counter where Stone should have been.
“Doctor?” Stone gave a forced smile.
Robotnik kept staring at him, “Come here.”
Stone tried his best to keep his smile, walking towards the doctor to stand in front of him.
“Closer.” Robotnik said blankly.
Stone got as close as he could, tips of his boots touching the tips of Robotniks, still trying to keep cool. Robotnik's hand swiftly grabbed at Stone's tie in an attempt to pull him in closer but instead of what was intended, the tie simply gave way and pulled off of Stone's neck.
Robotnik blinked blankly, leaving both of them standing awkwardly for a few moments, Stones tie still in Robotnik's hand.
“Agent Stone…”
“Yes Doctor?”
Robotnik took a breath, “What is it, exactly, that I pay you for?” He asked.
“I-I’m not sure, sir.” Stone stuttered, not sure what or even if there was a right answer.
Robotnik dropped the tie, this time grabbing at both sides of Stone's jacket, rather softly though, “You do as I say, no? That’s what I pay you for. Do you know all that that entails?”
“No… sir.”
“Everything. It entails everything. And do you know which part of that you failed?” A small smirk had shown on Robotnik's face but it was not a pleasant one.
“E-everything.” Stone cleared his throat, forced smile starting to fade.
The smirk on Robotnik's face had grown into a full creepy grin, “Yes… EV-ERYTHING!”
Robotnik violently shook Stone as if he wanted to cause brain damage, Stone falling backwards and onto his ass once the doctor finally let go. Whatever bit of the headache that had gone away from the advil was right back and possibly worse, but now his tailbone also hurt.
“Imbecile.” Robotnik groaned and snapped his fingers, walking right over Stone who was still laid on the ground.
The cafe lights became blue and a pink-ish red, shutters closing as the lab formed.
Stone knew it was easier to just play dumb and nod along, the last person who spoke up for themselves was fired on the spot and Stone didn’t want that. He admired Robotnik, being able to watch his genius was worth the insults—not to mention Stone knew that all the insults and violence were empty, a simple shield for a wonderful yet closed off man. Stone held on to the idea that eventually the doctor would open up to him, be his friend or maybe even more than that.
He finally sat up, trying his best to ignore the pounding in his head.
“Agent Stone, either fix yourself and bring me a latte or I’ll shove your head in a toilet for my amusement.” Robotnik huffed and stepped inside the elevator, taking it down by himself for the first time ever.
Stone found himself frowning, disappointed in himself for messing up this bad. He needed to get a grip, he couldn’t let down the doctor again, if he were to be fired he might as well dunk his own head in a toilet and drown himself there—though in reality he would probably just go on as a sad lonely barista and maybe buy a cat or two for company.
Somewhat slowly, Stone picked himself up, grabbing his tie off the floor and making his way to the bathroom—the bathroom had stayed a bathroom even in “lab mode” for obvious reasons. Stone cleaned himself up, fixing back his hair with water and actually doing up his all black suit properly and with care this time.
Back on track, Stone made up the doctor's steamed Austrian goat milk latte and put it in a to-go cup since he didn’t have the time for the art, going down to the underground part of the lab with a smile back on his face despite the growing unwellness he refused to acknowledge. The cafe opened a little later than normal, with only a few random people waiting impatiently outside.
“Sir, I have your latte ready.” Stone smiled, walking up behind Robotnik who was sitting in his chair seemingly doing nothing.
In the time it took for Stone to get down, Robotnik had accomplished absolutely nothing. The only thing that could have been accomplished was for him to go back up the elevator and make sure Stone wasn’t dead like he had been planning to do in just a few minutes had Stone not come down.
“Thank you.” Robotnik said with a slightly aggressive tone before his eyes focused on Stone, “What happened to your hand?”
Stone looked down at the bandage, blood splotches showing where the big cut was but not enough for concern, “Oh, I accidentally broke a glass this morning while cleaning it.” He explained.
“Maybe you should cut down on the drinking, idiot.” Robotnik chuckled smugly.
Stone internally sighed at the doctor.
“Now, no more wasting time, I must get my machine working so I can finish off that feebleminded rodent and his pals.” Robotnik sipped the latte and let out a small pleased giggle.
Stone at this point could do whatever he wanted until the doctor called on him to show off something or hand him something, so he decided on emails. Most of the emails were junk, some updates on websites that Robotnik had subscribed to to use for his experiments because he was occasionally too lazy to create his own tools, and others were either random threats from the government or the periodic “fan mail”. To most the fan mail was completely surprising—no one in their right mind would fall for Robotnik—but to Stone it made sense, if he admired Robotnik so much was it so out of place for others to also?
Stone went through each email as he was supposed to except for the fan mail, those got deleted on sight when Stone was the one going through. He was about halfway through though when an uneasy feeling crept into his stomach, a nasty heaviness. Part of Stone knew that something was not right with him—the sore throat, the headache, and now this—but the rest of him that was devoted to Robotnik told him it was probably from just not eating that morning.
“Doctor, would you like me to order some food?” Stone stood up and turned towards Robotnik, their separate desks only a few feet apart.
Robotnik didn’t stand and instead just spun around in the chair, “Hmm, waffles do sound quite delectable. With fresh strawberries but no blueberries, I hate blueberries… oh and-“
“Fruit syrup and extra butter on the side so the waffle doesn’t become soggy.” Stone had taken food orders from Robotnik so often that he remembered just about all of them.
Robotnik grinned, “You know me so well, sycophant.”
Stone's eyes lit up, taking the compliment and ignoring the insult like he usually did—almost like a dog you could throw insults at all day but as long as you're using a baby voice they think it’s praise.
Personally, Stone would not be having waffles. The thought of anything sweet upset Stone's stomach more than it already was, he just wanted a nice light sandwich with minimal condiments. So, while Stone headed for the usual diner, he called to have his food made and then delivered there.
By now the waitress was used to the order and simply put it in, letting Stone know the wait would be about five to ten minutes. He found himself an empty seat by a window though today he didn’t get to enjoy the view; the moment he sat down his head screamed at him, stomach in a whirl like a rollercoaster. Stone groaned and simply put his head in hands, eyes closed and hoping this would settle.
This time it did, a few deep breaths and while the headache didn’t get much better, the unease in his stomach did—next time though he probably wouldn’t be too lucky.
Stone cleared his throat and finished waiting out his time, his sandwich arriving just as he was paying for Robotnik's waffle—having checked to make sure everything was correct first—and walked just back across the street to his cafe. Another thing that had become normal for the townsfolk was Stone walking out of what seemed like just a normal small pantry and him walking back in and staying for hours at a time, usually bringing food or otherwise in with him.
“Here you are, sir.” Stone set the doctor's waffles in its designated spot—one having had to been made after an incident involving a very important blueprint and spicy garlic chicken wings.
“Thank you Agent Stone.” Robotnik hummed, not taking his eyes away from his monitor.
Stone took his own food back away to a small table in the corner of the room where he would usually eat due to the doctor not liking the sounds of chewing. He’d ordered a ham and cheese sandwich, bread toasted with his only condiments being mayo and a thin layer of guacamole; simple and delicious. The first bite proved that, the second bite doing the same though there was a small tinge of unease, the third bite was a mistake.
By the time he swallowed that last bite, the first two were already hitting his stomach hard. When the last bite hit his stomach all hopes of sitting through it went out the window, Stone leaving the rest of his sandwich on the table and racing for a bathroom. Luckily they had one down in the underground part of the lab so Stone wouldn’t have to suffer the elevator but even this one had felt so distant.
He barely made it, locking the door behind himself and falling to his knees in front of the toilet to throw up everything since last night's dinner. The vomit came out in nasty spurts but only really lasted for about a minute before his stomach was clear—the unease still not gone but at least it didn’t feel as bad.
“Agent Stone?” A knock came at the door.
A decision had to be made, the smart one would be to stay at the toilet and admit to the obvious sickness, but of course the one that made more sense to Stone was to clean himself up and pretend everything was fine. He of course went with what made more sense to him, the idea of getting fired still burning unpleasantly in the back of his mind.
Stone picked himself up, flushed the toilet and quickly washed out his mouth as well as cleaned the sweat off his forehead.
“Yes doctor?” Stone asked in his normal cheery voice as he unlocked and opened the bathroom door.
Robotnik looked at him funny, “I had been calling for you. You didn’t answer.”
Stone stepped out, “My apologies doctor,” the lights felt brighter than they had been, making his eyes hurt, “won’t happen again.”
“It better not. What use would I have for you then?”
That fear engraved itself in him, burning more than the headache that plagued Stone.
The rest of the day went alright; the headache and stomach issues getting worse though the soreness in his throat seemed to be going away after a few glasses of water. He kept himself to a strictly water diet for the rest of the day, which was probably the only reason he didn’t have to puke again—not to mention even the idea of food now was almost enough to send him back to the bathroom.
Stone didn’t have much to do for the rest of the day, occasionally being called over to look at the magnificent machine Robotnik was building to try and fight Sonic.
It would work as a controller for the doctor, a body suit that controlled a much stronger thing than himself. A bending metal spine would hold tight but moving to his own with something resembling a ribcage securing it to his chest, metal limbs would secure to the front of his legs and the side of his arms with a glove like the ones they already used being made part of it.
What it would control was basically a smaller but much faster robot like his giant one from their last big fight, made to endure more. It was genius and although Stone didn’t share quite the same hate—or really much at all except for some lingering jealousy—towards Sonic, Tails, and the red one that Stone couldn’t and didn’t really care to remember the name of, he hoped it would work.
To be honest, Stone understood the annoyance with Robotnik's failures to catch and study Sonic but past that he didn’t actually mind the creatures. They were simply living and only fighting back against Robotnik, never starting anything past throwing some eggs at the doctor that one time. Stone had even somewhat befriended the fox, held a sort of treaty to simply exist peacefully when not held in a fight with Robotnik.
They happened into each other and as time passed, Stone and Tails had begun a weekend ritual of playing pool at the local bar. Sonic and Knuckles had begun joining in after the first few weeks and before Stone knew it, his days off of work were for the most part spent with the enemy. Luckily for Stone he didn’t have to lie to Robotnik about this since Robotnik didn’t actually ask why Stone spent all his time off at the bar—knowing through some sort of tracking chip that Stone was still unable to locate—and just assumed his henchman had a drinking problem.
This weekend would be the first that Stone would not go to the bar, in fact, after work he went straight home to spend his two days off in bed. His bike was left at the coffee shop, the idea of that rumbling in his upset stomach forcing him to call for a taxi though even that had Stone taking deep breaths.
He had stumbled back inside his apartment, blood drops dry on the floor leading from the kitchen to the bathroom, and glass still broken in the sink, pajamas laid on his bedroom floor. His shoes, jacket, and tie came off but all else was forgotten as he tiredly crawled into bed, burying himself in the peaceful darkness.
No light, no movement, just rest.