Chapter Text
Why does it hurt...
My head aches something fierce. It’s as if someone took a mallet to it, like a jack-o-lantern after Halloween. If that were the case, shouldn’t the pressure be easing instead of worsening?
It hurts. It hurts so bad. I’ve had my fair share of excruciating pain, from broken bones to awful ear infections, but this tops all of them.
The throbbing, which may just be my pulse, runs all throughout my body, all the way down to my toes. The pain is numbed somewhat by a cold press on my head.
It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before— Am I sick? Did I get hit by a bus? I can still feel things, which means I’m alive, and since I’m alive, I get to suffer through each agonizing breath. My chest hurts like hell…
I just want to go back to sleep.
I grumble into my pillow, rolling onto my side. The cold compress slides off, and I hear it hit the floor. The sound doesn’t match that of tile, and that should have been my first hint of something being off.
There’s a small gasp and the coolness returns, “Oh, you’re waking up! Sonic, can you hear me?”
The words barely register, my mind landing on one person, “Mmgh… Mom?”
“Huh?”
That voice isn’t hers, neither is this bed. The sheets feel all wrong, and so does everything else…
I crack open my eyes, taking a moment for them to adjust. They focus, actually focus, and settle on a furry orange face in front of me.
I’m not ashamed to admit I shrieked, or startled so hard I fell out of bed, but try being in my shoes at this moment; you wake up somewhere else totally different from where you last remembered, your eyes suddenly work, and there’s Tails from Sonic staring you straight in the face.
Yeah, I think anyone would freak out in this scenario.
Speaking of Tails, he just witnessed me fumble like a complete idiot. If I wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack, I might have felt embarrassed. As it was, however, I couldn’t think anything beyond What? How? Fuck? Shit? Is this?
Rather than judge me like he should reasonably be doing, he got down to my level, holding out his hand with a worried expression.
“Woah! Take it easy! The fight’s over, Sonic. We won!” he assured me, but I just gave him a blank look.
“Wha… What the fuck?” We both look surprised by my response, but for different reasons. My fingers touch my lips, taken aback.
Whose voice was that just now? It certainly wasn’t mine.
Tails lets out an awkward giggle, “Wow, that’s a new one…” He clears his throat, offering his hand again, “But that’s besides the point. Are you alright?”
I stare at his hand for a minute, or maybe a few seconds, I don’t know. With a bit of hesitation, I reach for it.
I freeze.
Tails skews his face, “Sonic?”
My eyes had landed on my hand, which was covered by a white cuffed glove. I stare at it for a long moment, trying to figure out where it came from. Then I look down.
I’m blue.
No, not just blue. Blue fur, and I wasn’t wearing any other clothes beyond socks and gloves. The only skin that remained untouched were my arms and chest, and even that was different! Flat, featureless, and the shape of everything was just…
Wrong.
The worst part? I knew these markings. Hell, I’ve drawn them enough for his face to become engrained into the wrinkles of my brain.
“Sonic?”
That’s not my name.
Tails grabs my hand anyway and I flinch, much to his surprise.
“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Whether it was the confusion on my face or the predicament I found myself in, the fox takes pity. He helps me back to my feet, and this time I let him. I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling more lost than ever.
Tails seats himself on a chair placed next to the bed — Had he been here the whole time? — and clasps his hands together.
“Right… You might still be a little off after everything that happened. First of all, how do you feel?”
I rub my head, trying to will away the dull thrumming beneath my skull, “I… I don’t know.” His frown spurs me to answer honestly, “N-Not great, I suppose…”
He sighs, “Yeah, I was hoping it wouldn’t after a few days—” A few days? “—but it looks likes that isn’t the case.” Tails grabs a cup from the nightstand, and it was then I actually took a good look at my surroundings.
A bedroom, but not mine, that much is clear from context alone. If it weren’t for the fact Tails was here, I would have thought the room belonged to a young boy. Wallpaper depicting blue skies and fluffy clouds, glow-in-the-dark star plasters, hell, I was sitting on a racecar bed for heaven’s sake. All signs point to this being Sonic’s room.
God… Sonic. This isn’t a dream, is it? The new medication hasn’t caused me weird dreams yet, but I’m not sure if what I’m seeing is real or not. Regardless, if this is some sort of hallucination, then I hope whoever is playing the role of Tails can forgive my strange questions.
“Are you really Tails?”
Tails pauses. He was about to hand me a glass of water, but stopped when I asked him that question.
Again, he gives a nervous chuckle, “What do you mean? Of course I am!” I take the water from him and gulp it down. Refreshing, I didn’t realize how parched I was until now.
Tails stands to adjust a rack near the bed, which I now see to be an IV stand.
With everything else that is unraveling, I process a sting in my arm. How did I not notice ripping a needle from my arm? It must have happened when I fell. My nerves were shot in that moment, and the feeling still lingers even now.
“Guess we don’t need this now,” Tails says before noticing the trickle of red down my arm, “Oh! Right! Hang on, there should be some gauze in here…” He digs through a first aid kit lying open on the nightstand and cleans up the smeared blood. The sting of the alcohol wipe barely registered.
He wrapped up the injection site and pat my arm, “There, all good!” I simply stared at the bandages with numb disbelief. A part of me knows I should respond, but…
How… is any of this possible?
“Maybe I’m still asleep…” I mutter to myself, to which Tails denies.
“Uhh… no? You’re awake. I don’t know how to say this, but…”
You’re not Sonic.
“…You’ve been out for a week.”
I blink at him, not expecting that response, “O-Oh…”
Tails sighs, “Yeah, the last fight with Eggman didn’t end in the usual way…” He hugs one of his namesakes, “But it doesn’t matter now. We won! And the Master Emerald’s safe.” I have no idea what he’s talking about.
I tell him as much, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His eyes widen, “Really? Th-That’s…” He scratches his head, “…more than a bit concerning. Wait, hold on.” He shakes his head, “How much of the fight do you remember?”
How about… “None of it?”
“Wow, okay.” Tails lets out a long breath, “I’ll tell you about it later, when you’re feeling better. Everything has been quiet on the Egg front since then, but that’s not what matters right now.”
He gives me a good, hard look, “Sonic, are you really feeling okay? You’re acting kind of… well, not you.”
Now is the best time to tell him what’s really happening. Clearly, he doesn’t have a clue, and I am NOT cut out for this sort of thing…
But fear gets the better of me.
“Yeah.”
I want to kick myself as soon as it left my mouth, but all I can do is curse my anxious thoughts. You idiot, why would you say yes?
Of course I know why. I just don’t know which is the safe answer.
Even Tails is confused, “‘Yeah’, as in… yeah, I’m good? Or…?”
I scramble for one, “Yes— No, not like—maybe? I just… I’m not—” I huff, putting my face in my hands in resignation, “I don’t know.”
Tails hums in disconcertment, “I think I get what you mean.”
I lift my head, “You do?”
“Yeah. It was dumb question to ask. I mean, of course you’re not feeling your best!” He laughs nervously, “You took a blast from the Master Emerald! That sort of thing would knock you down a few pegs.”
I blink blankly at him.
“I what.”
Tails looks like he’s about to harbor a headache of his own, “Long story short, it’s what ended the fight. I’ll tell you more later, but I think we should do a checkup now that you’re awake.”
I can’t argue with that logic. I’ll get another chance to tell him who I am, or maybe his tests will discover it for himself. I’m not sure which is easier.
As it turns out, Tails’s idea of a checkup was to hook up a bunch of electrodes to my body and tell me to jog on a treadmill for a few minutes. Surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly), I was able to complete fifteen minutes of brisk jogging, though Tails seemed to think otherwise of this feat.
Tails contemplated over the results, “Your stamina has waned, but that’s to be expected after a week of inactivity.” He further concludes, “Though, your Chaos Energy seems weaker than before. I wonder if the blast sapped it? Or maybe… hmm…”
I’m starting to feel overwhelmed by it all, from the prodding and testing to the situation I’ve found myself in, “Can I go now?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’ll need time to go over these anyway.” He points to his bulky tablet, “In the meantime, why don’t you try eating something?”
I gave him a nod and left the workshop. I didn’t stop by the kitchen. Instead, I went straight up the stairs and to the bedroom I woke up in.
The door clicks shut behind me, and I finally release the breath I’ve been holding.
I’m alone.
With that, the weight of it all drops on me like an anvil. I sink to my knees, a disbelieving laugh falling from my lips, because honestly, what else could I do in this moment?
This has to be some sort of dream. This scenario is impossible. I CANNOT be Sonic, and I’m not! I’m just me!
God… what the hell is going on?!
Laughing turns to crying turns to gasping. I can’t get enough air in to support my racing heart, nor the streamline of thoughts running through my head.
I’m panicking. I know I am, but I can’t stop it. The fact I’m hyperventilating comes second to the fact I am no longer in my body, and now this? This… What do even make of all of this? Where do I start?!
My face feels prickly from lack of oxygen, I can’t regulate my breathing. I can’t… I can’t…
I need to see it.
I stumble out of the room back into the hall, searching for a bathroom. A mirror, where’s the mirror?
Even though I expected it, the sight still took my breath away. I stared into the mirror.
Sonic the Hedgehog stares back.
I huff in disbelief, and so does he. If it weren’t for the tear streaks staining his muzzle, I could have believed I was looking through a window, and Sonic was mimicking me. Never mind how ridiculous that thought was, I was more caught up in my changed appearance.
I touch my face, and he copies the action. I can feel the fabric against my cheek. I poke at the space between my eyes, where my nose should be. Pain lances through my face as if I had poked my eye, and I suppose it’s exactly that.
I pull back an eyelid and find pink against the whites, just how it should be. This isn’t some costume or figment of my mind. I was really Sonic the Hedgehog.
My chest threatens to seize once more, and it takes conscious effort to suppress another episode. I can’t lose myself here, not now. Not until I figure out why.
Okay… This is… This is a thing now.
I step back from the counter, avoiding my reflection for the meantime. My mind is a flurry of questions, all the how, what, where, when, and why’s; How is this possible? What is going on? Where is my body? When did this happen? Why?
Why…
The most gripping question of them all. Why me? Why any of this? What’s the purpose of me being here? In Sonic’s body? What happened?
Too many questions and not enough answers. The unknown only serves to worsen my emotional burden, and I have no clue where to start unpacking.
An unnerving thought crosses my mind, what happened to Sonic?
Reality is already crumbling around me, what’s another existential question to top it off? There has to be a reason why I’m here, though I question whoever made the choice. Surely, this has to be some universal mistake. I’m not fit for whatever purpose this situation serves.
What if there is no reason? What if you’re just unlucky?
Shut up, I don’t need to hear that right now.
Focus on what’s in front of you.
I look up, the reminder in the mirror meeting my gaze.
Right… Sonic.
It’s strange to think of him as anything else but a fictional character— a mascot of gaming, but here I am, and in his body no less.
Which means this is no longer the world I know.
I’ve already met Tails, but more lie in store; Amy, Knuckles, Blaze, Cream, Silver, Team Dark, the Chaotix… maybe even the Freedom Fighters, depending on the continuity. That’s all without mentioning the villainous characters Sonic has encountered. That means Eggman is out there… and he’s not the only bad actor around.
What does this mean for me? For him?
So far, no voice nor omnipotent presence has come forth with claims of grandeur or answers to my questions. The only voice I hear is my own.
Is Sonic still there? I can’t hear any of his thoughts, and I doubt he’d like someone hijacking his body, albeit unintentionally. Maybe he’s asleep? Or we swapped bodies? In any case, I don’t like it. There’s no reason Sonic shouldn’t be in Sonic’s body, and I in mine.
Unless he’s not there at all.
I shudder at the thought.
No way. I didn’t kill him. He wouldn’t just die, unless maybe I’m meant to fill in what’s missing? Is that what I am? The universe’s correction to a cosmic mistake?
Why did it have to be me?
My hands clench into fists. Damn it. DAMN IT ALL! Why is this happening?! It’s all improbable—
Impossible! Yet, I can’t deny the truth looking me in the mirror.
Desperate for control, I reach out for something, anything, that could ground me in this reality.
The gloves come off without fanfare, and with it the freedom to do as I please.
Quills have deeper roots than hair follicles, but they can be plucked all the same. I picked and pulled the fur until the anxious energy quelled, thoughts overwritten by pain like an itch being scratched.
I went a little overboard with it, but it can’t be helped. I can hate myself later. Right now, I needed this.
The sink was now speckled by a smattering of blue quills. I let the faucet wash it away, the water tinged slightly pink as it went down the drain. The plucked regions still stung from their reaping, but I ignored it in favor of the calm introduced to my mind.
I look at the hedgehog in the mirror, addressing the person behind the face.
“…You’re a mess.”
Isn’t that the truth.
Instead of facing it, I slept on the matter like I usually do, leaving it for tomorrow me to figure out.
Like any sleeping creature, they have to wake eventually.
I could, theoretically, stay in bed and let myself waste away until someone with much more sense than I changed that, but I don’t like involving others in my problems, so verticality it is.
I must have slept through the rest of yesterday. The clock reads six in the morning, and I can spot the dim morning light peeking through the blinds. My stomach rumbles unhappily, my mouth feeling equally parched and screaming to be addressed, with a full bladder to top it off. I’m reminded in that moment the downsides of being a living being.
I force myself to stand, beating back the throbbing the movement evoked beneath my skin. I recall the steps I took to the bathroom, and what an adventure that turns out to be, and one I will repeat to no one. Let’s just say I learned more about hedgehog anatomy than I care to know.
I went through the motions of washing my hands, turning on the faucet and stopping short upon seeing my hand. Right, completely forgot about that. I didn’t give them a second thought.
They were, well, hands.
Not human hands, if the blunt claws on the end were any indicator, but close enough to not immediately spark an uncanny response. Turning over the palms came with its own discoveries, namely a thick layer of skin ending in pink pads. I flex them, pressing the ends between my fingers. They squish in a satisfactory manner.
I’m not ashamed to say I got distracted with them for a bit before realizing I left the water running and hastily wash my hands.
Back in Sonic’s bedroom, I rummage around for a clean pair of gloves. I check his closet and dresser. One of the drawers held a photo album.
I close that one quickly.
I manage to find his extras next to his socks and don a fresh pair from both. I would prefer more than that, but Sonic’s wardrobe is lacking in just about everything. I’ve checked, and Sonic has a total of one jacket, two hoodies, and no pants – Which if I’m remembering right, he hates with a passion, so no luck there.
I suppose the fur covers enough, but my chest and arms still feel really exposed.
To circumvent that feeling, I throw on one of his hoodies. Better than nothing, but hey, I don’t feel quite as naked anymore.
Now, breakfast.
It’s still rather early, so I took care in not making too much noise out of courtesy. Even if Tails wasn’t asleep, I didn’t want to make a ruckus in a stranger’s house, convoluted as the truth may be.
At the bottom of the stairs is a conjoined kitchen and living room. The place is well-lived in, but not without charm. Shelves full of books and other knickknacks make up for the space not occupied by furniture or household appliances.
The kitchen was my target, and with as much silence as I could muster, opened the fridge.
Inside were leftovers from what I assume was last night’s dinner. Despite my stomach’s insistence, my nose scrunches at the various aromas coming from the food, none of which seemed particularly appealing. Seems not even swapping bodies will rid me of my pickiness…
I move on to the pantry. Cereal analogous to ones I’d see find in my own cabinet sit on display, and I go for the plainest one. I pour myself a bowl and head towards the kitchen bar before stopping short.
I was going to eat it dry, but a thought just occurred to me; the milk in the fridge. I don’t know what kind it is, but perhaps sour stomachs don’t transfer over realities?
Sure enough, I find the carton in the fridge, though I can’t compare today’s date to the one on the label. I twist the lid and give it a sniff. Smells fine…
…Fuck it, we ball.
In the silence of the morning, I eat my cereal (with milk) in quiet contemplation.
My mind hasn’t stopped running, hellbent on addressing every concerning thought that crosses my conscience, thoughts like “What do I do?”, “Where is Tails?”, or “How am I going to explain this?”, and much more. I don’t know if it’s a Sonic thing or my ADHD brain. Maybe both.
God, how screwed am I? Not just now, but wholly, I have no idea what to do.
What am I going to do?
I drop my spoon into my bowl, resting my chin in my hand. Thick hairs tickle my palm, a constant reminder of my new reality. Had it been my own body, none of this would be as scary. Exciting, even.
But no, I had to be him.
Sonic.
Maybe I’m the one who died. I died, and this is my eternal punishment; forced to be someone I’m not.
Well, it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the feeling. Life so far has been one big lie, so what’s another identity crisis to the list?
I thump my fist against my head, “C’mon, think…”
Wallowing in self-pity isn’t going to help me through this. It’s too early to fall into despair, and I’ve barely gotten my feet on the ground. The only person I know for certain is me, but even I don’t fully trust myself, so why should I trust anyone?
That’s a stupid argument and I know it. I’m just scared of what telling the truth will accomplish. Sonic’s friends aren’t deceptive like that, and they’re more than likely to help me out if it means getting their friend back.
…I’m just a stranger to them, after all.
But I’m not ready. Not yet. I need to gain my bearings before I can work up the courage to do so. And I will, because I’m a terrible liar and if don’t, then somebody else will get the wrong impression.
My fist makes a loud noise against the counter, breaking my focus. I was breathing harshly, much harder than I thought.
I exhale the tension, reminding myself not to be too loud.
I need to compose myself, not work myself up over silly fears. I need to stay focused. Everything ahead of me is one big, bold question mark.
And to do that, I have to be Sonic, just for a little while. Until I’m brave enough, and if I’m not, well…
Someone has to be.