Chapter Text
When Stone coughed up a bright purple petal a couple of hours after watching the doctor‘s final livestream, he choked out a bitter laugh over the sound of his sobbing.
Stone couldn’t remember how he got to one of the doctor’s safe houses in London. He must’ve walked, but he had no recollection. All he could remember was how the doctor’s voice shook as he tried to put on a brave face for Stone, as if Stone couldn’t read him like a book.
It was sparse, given that it was one of the doctors' safehouses. More like a hostel than a safe house. It didn’t even have a way to access the doctor’s database, but none of that mattered anymore.
Stone had found a corner to curl up in and beg the gods that this was all just a nightmare. That he’d wake up in the morning with the doctor alive just one more time.
It didn’t work.
Stone picked up the petal and studied it in the dim light. It took him a second to place what kind of flower it was, but he felt something within him crack open like a fissure upon realizing it was a heliotrope that grew within his lungs.
The flower of ‘devotion’ and ‘eternal love’ was the symbol of his love for the doctor. A love that would consume him whole to serve as fertilizer for his death.
Laughter escaped him, verging on hysteria. “See doctor?” He called out to an empty room as if the doctor was still there to listen to him. “I could never betray you.” He laughed again, tears pouring from his eyes.
He clenched the petal in his fist.
A sudden urge for violence erupted from within him, and he screamed, lashing out. He punched the wall beside him. An unfathomable pit of rage boiled within him for failing to protect his doctor and the world for taking him away.
He sobbed.
The doctor is dead.
The fight left his body, leaving nothing but a shell in its wake. He collapsed to the floor, curling into a ball. His knuckles stung. “…why didn’t you believe me?” He asked, his voice pitifully tiny.
Stone could never be mad at Ivo for Stone’s mistakes.
He unclenched his fist, staring at the tiny petal in his palm. A sudden shiver rolled down his spine, and his stomach lurched. He quickly pocketed it, hiding it from view.
He really was dying, wasn’t he?
The broiling water felt scalding against his skin. He turned the temperature of the shower as high as possible in an attempt to boil away the overwhelming feeling of shame and grief—how dare he still breathe when the doctor cannot?
He dragged himself to the shower after he could no longer ignore the grime coating his skin from the River Thames.
Stone was unsure how long he’d been standing there, staring at the wall, but it had been long enough that the water began to turn warm. Impressive, considering this was one of the doctor’s safe houses.
It took him a while to muster enough energy to towel off. For the longest time, he debated on whether he should just curl up in the bottom of the shower and sleep.
His gaze caught in the reflection of the mirror as he was drying himself off, and he stared at it—transfixed.
The water had washed away most of the evidence of his crying except for his eyes, which were still red and blotchy. There was a sort of emptiness behind them as if the explosion not only killed the doctor, but him as well.
Stone blinked.
His reflection in the mirror smiled at him, its grin unnaturally wide. There was an oddness to its movement as if it were mimicking human behavior and not being genuine.
The surroundings fell away, leaving only the Agent and his reflection.
‘You failed, Agent.’ Its voice was taunting, almost melodic-sounding. It felt like its words were being injected into his brain.
Stone grit his teeth at the spears lodging themselves into his heart at the truth being said so plainly.
He could never blame the doctor for Stone’s failings.
Its head tilted to the side, as if studying his reactions. Its grin widened, the rest of its face stoic and frozen. ‘You were supposed to protect Ivo, not let him die on a suicide mission!’ It said, its voice rising with every syllable.
At the sound of the doctor’s name, Stone felt an involuntary rustle in his chest, and he coughed, a tiny heliotrope petal falling from his mouth.
The reflection’s grin widened like a shark, tasting blood in the water. ‘You’re dying without him, Agent. How pathetic.’ Its laughter echoed in Stone’s brain.
Stone clenched his fist, his mouth twitching. He ignored the damning evidence that had fallen onto the countertop.
‘You should’ve died instead-!’ It screamed, lunging forward—its mouth unnaturally wide as if to consume him whole.
His fist lashed out, punching his reflection. He shattered the mirror. Blood dripped from his knuckles as pieces of glass stuck to his skin.
‘You’re nothing without him.’ The reflection disappeared as the mirror broke. It’s giggling laughter faintly echoed in Stone’s brain.
Stone panted, ignoring the pain radiating from his fists.
He spent the better part of the day cleaning the broken glass. With every piece of glass he scooped up and put into the trash can, he could feel his movements becoming more and more sluggish.
After a while, he stood and grabbed the first aid kit. With trembling hands, he pulled the pieces of glass out, more concerned about time than correctness. Once they were all out, almost instinctively, he wrapped a bandage around his fist, not putting much thought into it.
He ignored the broken mirror, grabbing the heliotrope petal and stuffing it in his pocket with the rest of them as he left the bathroom.
It was night when he made his way to what was left of the crab, using the cover of night to sneak inside the ruins.
Stone looked around, swallowing down the emotions that threatened to rise in his throat at the sight of the damage.
Everything was in disarray, having been tossed around violently in the crash. The water had yet to recede, instead getting worse as time passed.
Stone wasn’t sure what he was looking for—anything of the doctor that hadn’t been destroyed by the flooding, plans of world domination, closure. He waded through the knee-high water, using a flashlight to light the way.
Stone choked out a bright purple petal at the sight of the coffeemaker he used to make the doctor his daily lattes.
It had been destroyed in the crash, floating upside down in the floodwater.
He made a desperate grab for the petal before it could touch the water, tucking it into his pocket. He ignored how his heart started pounding at the thought of losing the petal to the filthy floodwater.
He kept searching. A couple of pieces of garbage floated past him, and he almost called the search off when he saw it.
There—floating in the water—was one of Shadow’s quills.
Stones' eyes lit up, and he pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket, using it to grab the quill.
In the darkness, he examined the quill, noting that it glowed a bright crimson red, unlike a certain blue hedgehog. He let out an inquisitive hum upon noticing how the quill had been broken in half during the crash.
“The safe house doesn’t have the equipment to examine anything like you. I’ll have to head to the Arctic lab.” He said aloud, still used to having someone to talk to.
He ignored how the silence made his chest ache, focusing on the task at hand. He pocketed the quill and left the ruins under the darkness of a new moon.
Using the cover of night to his advantage, Stone snuck into London Heathrow airport. He hopped the fence, searching for any planes parked for the night.
There was no moon in the sky to help his search. Grass crunched under his feet as he walked. Cricket’s song danced in the wind.
Once upon a time, Stone would’ve called it a beautiful night.
He watched as the security made their rounds, and a part of him hated how nonchalant they were.
The doctor died for you, and you act as if nothing changed!?
Stone didn’t know why he’d thought the world would stop when the doctor died.
It seemed illogical that the death of a man so great would cause anything less. And yet, he watched as time kept ticking forward and the world moved on from the doctor’s sacrifice.
As if it meant nothing.
Stone’s gaze stopped on a plane that could get him to the Arctic without running out of fuel. He would’ve smirked in triumph, but there was an emptiness in him stealing all of his emotions.
Guards patrolled the area, keeping watch.
Stone watched and waited as a pair of guards approached where he hid behind a vehicle parked for the night. Once they were close enough, he launched himself at them. He quickly incapacitated them and pulled them behind the vehicle.
It would’ve been more efficient to sneak past the guards, but there was a need for violence crawling under his skin.
He stripped the guard of his coat and badge, pulling it over his suit jacket. He fastened the badge to his stolen jacket and started making his way to the plane. He walked, careful to keep his pace unhurried for anyone potentially watching on cameras.
Upon reaching the plane, he walked around the plane, inspecting it, as if he were a security guard checking the plane for the night. He took a furtive glance around—none of the other guards were looking. He walked up to the door and successfully lockpicked it. With a smooth motion, he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind himself.
No alarms sounded, so no one must’ve noticed.
He walked over to the cockpit and sat in the pilot’s seat, disabling the tracker and the radio. He checked the fuel gauge—it was full.
After a couple of seconds, he started the plane. As he ran through the process, he could hear guards shouting as they realized what was happening.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
He drove the plane down the closest runway, ignoring the guards’ attempt to stop him, using it to gain enough speed to take off from the ground.
The plane roared as it gained altitude.
Within the next hour, Stone was flying over the Arctic Ocean, heading north.
The flight was quiet—too quiet.
He flew for many hours, finally landing when the sun rose over the horizon. He knew where the lab was hidden; he could never forget.
When Stone landed the stolen plane, he looked to his right on instinct and was startled upon seeing the doctor sitting in the cockpit beside him.
The doctor smirked at him. “You’re a shitty pilot, Stone. I thought I taught you better than that.”
Stone blinked, and before he could do anything, the doctor vanished.
The airplane was silent again.
Stone had never felt so lost before.
He coughed up a heliotrope petal. He stared at the petal for a while before pocketing it, feeling like the world was mocking him for his loss.
Stone trudged silently through the snow to the Arctic base.
The doctor used to use this base as a testing ground for his more volatile creations when they still worked for the government.
It has been years since it was used—abandoned in favor of using the Crab in later years.
The subzero temperatures didn’t do Stone any favors, making him shiver violently. Still, he walked on. He was too close to give up now because of the cold weather.
He ignored how his fingers started feeling numb.
Stone stopped in front of the reinforced door, hidden within the snowy mountain. He waited.
After a couple of seconds, a robotic voice chimed out. “Welcome, Agent Stone.”
The door opened.
Stone quickly stepped inside, taking shelter from the biting wind.
The door closed behind him as lights flickered on, illuminating the dark lab. Dust coated every surface.
Stone’s chest ached at the stillness of the lab. He brushed it off, examining the abandoned lab.
Everything was as he remembered. There was the main area, the sleeping quarters, and a kitchenette. Stone walked further in and hesitated at the doorway to the doctor’s room before stepping inside.
It was very chaotic—controlled chaos, Robotink called it. Books were thrown everywhere, along with robot bits scattered around.
On a hunch, Stone opened his nightstand and swallowed thickly upon seeing the familiar book. Nestled among a variety of other things was a copy of The Martian.
The doctor had always liked Andy Weir for his commitment to realistic science.
Stone pocketed the book.
Stone opened the door to the doctor’s closet, finding a spare black trench coat. With shaking hands, he grabbed it.
He burst into tears, holding the coat close to his chest.
It still smelt like him—motor oil and his signature cologne.
After a while, he managed to control his crying, and he pulled his suit jacket off. With reverence, he put the doctor’s trench coat on.
It was too big for Stone, sleeves falling past his wrists.
He closed his eyes and inhaled. For a second, he could imagine everything was back to normal. That the doctor was in the lab, waiting for him to make his latte. He could hear the doctor’s music blasting as he tinkered with something.
Stone opened his eyes, shoving down his disappointment as the illusion faded away. He left the room, leaving the coat on.
He walked over toward the lab equipment. He took a second to locate a cloth and dust everything off, knowing how particular the doctor was about his equipment.
“Stone! How am I supposed to work in these conditions!?”
“Sorry, sir!”
Stone’s hand stalled from where it was dusting off a piece of equipment. His heart pounded loudly.
The doctor actually was dead this time, wasn’t he?
And Stone was left all alone again.
Stone grit his teeth, clenching the cloth in his hand. Fury broiled in his veins, and he screamed, throwing the dirty rag.
It lumped loudly against a wall.
Stone stood there for a moment, his chest heaving. He took a deep breath, refocusing. He forced his hands to stop trembling as he grabbed Shadow’s broken quill, still wrapped in his handkerchief. He carefully unwrapped the quill and pulled it out.
Stone let out a curious hum after running some tests on it. “Hm…how curious. Despite being completely broken in half, you still have the energy capabilities of one of the blue hedgehog's unbroken quills.” He swallowed down the emotions that threatened to rise at how unfair it was that Sonic still got to go home while the doctor didn’t.
Despite his trying his best to ignore it, a petal forced itself up his throat. He coughed.
The petal twisted in the air as it fell—taunting him.
Stone watched as it fell onto the table.
He really was running out of time, wasn’t he?
He was…dying.
Because the only man he’d ever loved was gone.
Sacrificing himself for a world that never loved him back.
He laughed at how unfair it was that Sonic and his friends still got their happily ever after, while he didn’t.
He laughed at how unfair it was that the world moved on after the doctor’s sacrifice, as if it meant nothing that Stone’s entire world had shattered again.
He laughed at how unfair it was that the Doctor was the only one who wasn’t coming home.
Stone sobbed.
It felt like a piece of him died that day with the doctor—forever cursed to be broken, missing his other half.
They didn’t deserve him.
They didn’t deserve his sacrifice.
He was going to burn everything to ash.