Chapter Text
Stone’s desire to become one of his doctor’s inventions came to a head not three years into working for the man.
Stone had just returned from a mission with G.U.N, by all accounts a suicide mission the agency didn't expect him to come back from. They hardly ever expect their agents to return from missions.
But Stone had dragged himself out of the mess he was sent into, beaten half to death by the men who had managed to capture him. He had all of one night to patch himself up before he was expected to return to the lab the next morning. Robotnik had already thrown a fit when he was given the last-minute notice of Stone's mission; he would hate to leave the doctor waiting any longer.
So, with bruised ribs and a dozen bandages hastily wrapped around his abdomen, Stone managed to make it to the lab an hour early and went straight to the mini kitchen, making the doctor's usual latte order and pushing through the pain.
He saw it when he entered the main lab. Sitting on the large workbench in the middle of the room was a new model of badnik. Ordinary by all accounts, identical to the others, except that this one was much larger than the others, about the size of a child's bed. The insides were exposed, the top half taken off and placed on the floor haphazardly. The large red eye on the end was powered down and dark, giving it a silent threatening look. Like a sedated wolf.
It seemed G.U.N had finally greenlit Robotnik's ideas for a larger drone series while Stone was away. Something to keep him busy and from blowing up the building in frustration, no doubt.
Stone carefully placed Robotnik’s coffee on a nearby chair, gaze glued to the drone the whole time. He held his breath as he took it in with awe, and maybe it was the blood loss, but Stone began to feel a jealous rage start to form in his chest.
He ran a hand along the shell, feeling the smoothness under his numb fingertips.
He drew his hand back and stared at the smudges his fingers had left behind.
Stone felt his breathing get fast, his eyebrows creasing as frustration built in his chest. He felt ashamed. Of course he had left a mark behind on this perfect machine, dirtied and disrespected it in this way. He was bound to as an imperfect human.
Stone had realized a long time ago he harbored a deep jealousy of his boss's inventions. He'd often found himself staring at them as he worked. All those drones lined up in neat rows, their shiny outer shells taunting him. It made him sick some days.
He ached to be one of his doctor’s inventions. Desired nothing more than to be a mass of wires and programming made by Robotnik to perform whatever duty he needed to.
Distantly, he felt something wet begin to trickle down his side. Probably blood.
He continued staring at the smudge he left behind, his reflection on the shell distorted by the mark, making him look as dirty as he felt.
I should wipe that off, a small part of his mind whispered. The doctor would already be in a bad mood when he got back, he wouldn’t take kindly to Stone messing with one of his inventions. But the thought was so quiet, it was easily buried underneath the blood rushing through his ears.
Slowly, he climbed onto the table and knelt beside the machine. His chest heaved with his breaths, and he figured he should try to rebandage his wounds before the doctor got into work.
The wires looked a bit loose. The mechanisms inside weren't finished; weren't as tightly packed as they would be once the doctor finished. Stone dug his hand around inside, pushing the wires around to test how much room there was. If he had to guess, the machine was large enough to fit a grown man if he curled up.
He was forcing the breath from his lungs as he tore off his blazer, letting it fall to the floor. His hand tangled in his tie, shaking slightly as he loosened it.
Quickly, Stone unbuttoned his shirt, struggling as his hands refused to cooperate. As soon as it was open, he looked down at his bandages, and yes, there was the blood. He finally pulled his tie from his neck and used it to wipe up the worst of it before throwing it and his shirt to the floor, falling next to his blazer.
The badnik shook as he climbed inside it. It had supports, but they were crude at best. Robotnik never prioritized keeping his inventions still. He moved too much while working on them for it to be useful.
The wires shifted around and under him as he climbed inside as if welcoming him with an embrace. Some of the circuitry dug into his sides, poking at his wounds, but he could hardly register it over his euphoria.
He curled up like a fetus, cradled perfectly inside the machine and feeling for all the world as if it were built to hold him.
Stone distantly registered the machine activating, the top of the machine flying to complete its bottom half with Stone inside. His vision went black as he felt the blood begin to pool beneath him.
…
Later, the doctor would storm into work shouting for his assistant.
When Stone didn’t answer, Robotnik went on a tirade around the lab, trashing it in his fit.
He walked past the drone twice before his mind cleared from the rage-induced haze enough to register both it and the pile of bloody clothes on the floor.
He noted that his coffee was made, and sitting on a chair nearby. And that there were small drops of blood on the lab's floor beside the clothes.
And that the top half of the badnik had been reconnected to its bottom half.
Silently, the doctor grabbed his tools and pried the drone open. He took in Stone's passed-out form inside, cradled by wires and circuitry and with his blood in a shallow pool around him.
He lifted Stone from the machine and took care of the agent’s wounds himself. He was silent the whole time, an unreadable expression on his face. When Stone finally woke up, he stayed silent.
They would never talk about what had happened, and Robotnik would throw that badnik into an incinerator within a week.
Stone buried the feelings of jealousy and desire deep inside his heart for years, finally telling himself how unrealistic it was.
…
Years later, when Robotnik took the liberty of placing Stone into a new android body, the first thing Stone felt was confusion, and the second was euphoria.
The second he registered that whatever body he was in wasn’t his, that it was something much more mechanical, he felt a joy so overpowering his heart felt ready to burst in his chest. He was certain it showed on his face as he comforted his doctor.
Of course his desires had been so obvious to the genius. Of course Robotnik would find a way to make Stone’s dreams come true. Of course Ivo wouldn’t dare let Stone die of something as crude as old age. Or anything, for that matter.
Stone spent his days during rehabilitation dutifully following his doctor's instructions, wanting to adjust to this as fast as he could. In the afternoon, he stood in front of his mirror, slowly running his fingers across the false skin. Once, he opened himself up and touched the chassis inside.
Tears ran down his cheeks as he realized with joy that he didn't leave a smudge or fingerprint behind.
…
Sonic would never admit to the small amount of relief he felt once Eggman returned. It had been months at this point with no attacks from the man, not even a threat of one.
He was grateful at first, the break was nice as the family helped pack Tails’ belongings and helped him move into college. But then Eggman stayed gone, and Sonic started to think maybe he had taken his advice and was simply saying goodbye to his… whatever Stone was to him.
But the hiatus continued, and Sonic started to think he was making some big new invention to destroy Sonic and rule the world. When that didn't happen and the weeks marched on, he began to feel the closest to worry he could feel for someone who tried to kill him and his family regularly.
But luckily, (unluckily?) Eggman returned and didn’t seem to have any oversized contraption or death ray for Sonic’s family on hand. He was a little disappointed to see Stone back with Eggman, however. It seemed the man really wasn't going to let him go.
Sonic and Tails, who was home from college for the weekend, were too busy dodging bombs and bullets shot by Eggman and his henchman to notice at first.
“Hey, Sonic?” Tails called down to him from where he was flying.
“Little busy trying not to lose my face here, buddy, what is it?”
“Well, don’t you think it’s weird that Stone’s back?”
Sonic ran past a bullet and flipped a rocket back toward Eggman.
“Well, yeah, but I think Eggman just yelled at him to come back and fight some more.”
Tails still looked concerned, however, and Sonic sighed.
“I’ll go ask what’s up,” Sonic said as he ran up the side of a tall tree and kicked off, landing perfectly on Eggman's drone, and sitting down casually in front of the man. Tails flew up beside him.
"Hey, Egghead, why's Stone back? Wasn't he kinda ready to retire?"
It was Tails who finally got a good look at Stone, seeing that the man in front of him had suddenly lost all of the gray hairs and wrinkles he had accrued over the years. It seemed that, overnight, Stone had become the man Tails knew ten years ago.
"Uh, Sonic?" Tails’ voice wavered, sounding troubled.
Sonic finally looked over to Stone, ignoring Eggman's spluttering in front of him, and noted the same things Tails did.
It looked to Sonic like a ghost was staring back at him.
A distant fear took over Sonic as he noted a small red light in Stone's eyes that he was sure had never been there before. Slowly, the agent smiled at him. Polite by all accounts, as he had always been, but showing a few too many teeth to truly be so.
Suddenly, there was a small visible spark in Stone’s eyes and Sonic jumped back.
Sonic quickly grabbed the front of Eggman's suit and pulled him forward, snarling, "Eggman, what did you do?"
Stone grabbed Sonic in return, crowding into his face.
"Nothing I didn't want him to."
With that, Stone threw him off the side of the drone.