Chaos Born

9 Minutes And A Reunion

COUNTDOWN TIL SELF-DESTRUCT 9 MINUTES 30 SECONDS

. . . . .

Quite rightly, Tails' main focus was that of the blue spiked ball, deadly still where it had been put.

"Sonic?" Tails had murmured softly. "It's me. It's Tails."

It was testement to their bond that, when the fox had spoken, the blue quills prickled and stirred.

But Sonic would not uncurl.

"What did he do?" asked Tails, referring to Eggman, to which Sonic said nothing. "Tell me. What did he do?"

Amy and Knuckles waited with their breaths held.

Silence reigned heavily.

Until...

"...He hurt me."

A couple of things struck them at that moment:

One:
The voice was muffled, a little sound emanating from within the ball of spikes, lonely and frightened.

Two:
Had that voice really been Sonic's, then everything that the three friends knew was thrown into question.

For Sonic never admitted when he was truly hurt. Never.

Having shaken himself from stupor, Tails was quick to respond. "...Where?"

Another silence.

"I don't want to show you." The blue ball tightened again, curling even further in on himself.

"Why not?"

"...It hurts."

"We can't help you unless you show us."

"You can't help me this time."

Three:
Sonic was always ready to accept help from his friends for he valued teamwork. If he couldn't accept that help now...

"What has Eggman done?" asked Tails, his voice remaining calm despite the worry and panic that had surely set in before.

The hedgehog ball gave another shudder as though Sonic were physically wrestling with his own body, wanting to both spare his friends from his misery and also welcome their love and sympathy at the same time.

"...Don't look," he practically whimpered.

Whatever it is he's hiding in there, Knuckles had privately thought, he's working hard on keeping it.

It should be known that Tails wasn't afraid of Sonic's quills. Never had been. He had first-hand experience of how dangerous they were and he respected them as much as someone would respect a wild tiger or an active volcano. 

But fear them? No. 

How could Tails possibly fear what had protected him throughout his childhood? 

Sussing the length of each quill and how often it moved, the fox was able to discern, with skill, just whereabouts his friend's head was hidden.

Somewhere, far beneath the spiked blue forest, a vulnerable face would be pressed against his chest, eyes squeezed shut, inhaling the scent of his own fur, dampening it with his breath. HIs hands and arms would be crossed over his tummy and his strong legs would be folded over the top of all of it, impossibly bending the hedgehog into a tight fetel position thanks to the creature's biological ability to stretch its spine and pull its own skin around its four limbs like a drawstring bag.