Archive of Our Own

 Stone was gone.

 Well. Not gone. Simply absent for the foreseeable future

 The Agent had been sent away on a reconnaissance mission with little to no warning, just an urgent email at three in the morning, making his phone ping incessantly until he opened it, glossing over the lines of text and information with barely open eyes and an exhausted groan leaving his lips. With little time to shower and eat, the Agent left his apartment in a hurry, nothing besides the mission on his mind.

 It was only after getting on the plane that Stone realized he’d not warned Robotnik at all, a pang of panic and guilt swarming his chest as he looked at the ground below through the tiny window. With no signal, there was no way to communicate with his boss until the landing, roughly twenty hours away. The Agent only hoped the tracker in his watch would mollify the Doctor, knowing his Agent wasn’t dead in his apartment but away on another inane mission. He fiddled with the leather strap of the watch with anxious fingers incessantly.

 There was no latte at his desk. Not even a whiff of coffee or that stupid, pleasant cologne the Agent insisted on wearing every damn day. No bag besides the small desk, no chrome water bottle just out of reach, nothing.

 Robotnik stood frozen at the laboratory’s entrance, eyes frantically scanning, searching for any trace of Stone’s existence, finding none. Shock was quickly replaced by anger, his footsteps sounding like heavy machinery hitting the ground as he paced, shoving away anything in his path to the console and sitting with the air of a man ready to kill the next person who walked through the door. With the Badniks still asleep and no click-clacking of a nearby keyboard, the silence was nearly oppressive, closing in on him to the point his fingers automatically pressed play on a random playlist, distracting but still allowing coherent thought.

 Why isn’t he here?  He pondered, unease twisting his stomach into a knot until he was almost grateful for the lack of caffeine in his system. Has he had enough? Did Walters take him away? He grunted with disgust, stopping short when another possibility appeared, terrifyingly possible.

...Is he safe?

 Fast as lightning, he rose from the chair and made a beeline for the Badnik charging ports, waking a handful with taps to the hull, their confused beeping from being online out of schedule turning to happy thrills when their creator appeared before them.

 “We’re breaking and entering today, my darlings,” he grinned, watching proudly as the drones floated out of their ports and moved to stand in formation, ready to receive their orders.

 With renewed energy, the Doctor marched out of his secluded laboratory and into the nearest black SUV, refusing to even touch the Agent’s motorcycle parked right beside it. He might pilot planes and hovercrafts in his spare time, but that death machine Stone called a bike was off limits entirely, even if it was faster than the standard government cars available. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Robotnik took a deep, controlled breath before hitting the gas with a heavy foot, expertly driving to Stone’s apartment with a cluster of badniks in tow.

 Piloting had always calmed his nerves, be it above clouds or zooming between scattered vehicles; the fast thinking required for such a task was stimulating and exciting in equal measure, and, sometimes, when their moods were sour and in need of a boost, Robotnik would challenge Stone to race, reveling in his Agent’s laughter through the Prototype’s intercom. Now, with the looming possibility of Stone’s demise, the laughter ringing in his ears sounded distant and distorted like a fading memory.

 Soon enough, the SUV came to a screeching halt in front of Stone’s apartment building, tire marks etched into the asphalt and more than a few startled pigeons taking flight upon his arrival. The drones wasted no time floating up to the Agent’s floor and finding an unlocked window to pass through. One by one, they entered the apartment in complete silence as Robotnik climbed the stairs up to the door, jumping two steps at a time.

 Precise as always, the door opened for him the moment he walked through the long corridor, a cheery badnik holding it open with an extendable arm. “Good job, everyone!’ He announced with a smile before sobering up and stepping through the threshold, the door closing behind him with a faint thud. In complete silence, the Doctor walked with measured steps across the apartment as the badniks trailed behind him in synchrony.

 A sharp bang sounded to their right, startling a shrill scream out of Robotnik and triggering the drone’s defense systems, their guns drawn instantly, searching for the cause of the noise. “What the hell was that-”

 A loud bark came from up close, and on a whim, Robotnik decided the couch was the safest place he could be to get away from whatever hell-spawn Stone had in his home. Scrambling, the man jumped to the couch and grabbed one of the throw pillows, ready to launch it into the creature’s face if it dared come close. There was silence for a second before the pattern of nails clicking on the ground travelled around the sofa until an old German Shepard appeared before him, tongue lolling out and tail wagging violently, brown eyes staring at him expectantly in a most familiar way.

 The badniks had long disabled their weapons, now moving close to the dog with curiosity rather than murderous protectiveness. It barked playfully at Robotnik again, earning a scowl in return.

 “What do you want?” He growled, expecting the dog to cower in fear. Instead, it placed its front paws on the couch and barked again, tail going wild. “Get your filthy paws off the couch!” He commanded, only to be overpowered when the dog fully climbed onto the sofa and over him, landing all its weight on Robotnik’s legs and trapping him in place with a playful huff.

 Floating peacefully, the badniks seemed to enjoy watching their creator wrestle with another organic form, making small sounds suspiciously resembling giggles when the dog went to lick Robotnik’s face, who turned his face away with a disgusted yelp and tried to push it off the sofa.

 “Get off me, you infuriating creature!” He shrieked, hands blindly grasping at anything useful to chase off the overeager beast. With a triumphant Ha!, he unearthed a small tennis ball from beneath the cushions, throwing it as far away into the apartment as possible. The dog bolted after it, leaving Robotnik to gather his breath while the creature wreaked havoc around the house.

 “That’ll be Pebbles, if my impeccable memory serves me right,” he grumbled, recalling the first and only time he’d set foot on Stone’s apartment, a few months ago.

 It was an early morning, the dawn casting golden rays over the quiet city, a soft, fresh breeze rattling the few scattered leaves on the ground and carrying them away in lazy swirls. Robotnik stood with his hand frozen midair to pound on the door that had just opened abruptly. A disheveled and comfortable-looking Agent stared back at him with half-closed eyes and a steaming coffee mug in hand.

 “Doctor?” He asked, voice unusually rough and low with sleep. It made the strangest heat trail up from Robotnik’s stomach to his chest. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine, Agent,” he managed after a beat, not so subtly tilting his head to look inside the Agent’s home.

 The silence stretched for a moment. Stone took a careful sip of his coffee. “Would you like to come inside, sir?”

 “Thought you’d never ask, did your parents never teach you manners?” He said cheerfully, missing the lazy smirk stretching Stone’s lips as he nursed his mug.

“My parents are dead, sir,” he deadpanned.

“Oh boo-hoo, so are mine, thanks for the reminder,” he stepped into the strange place as if he’d been inside it countless times before, promptly throwing himself on the soft-looking sofa to his right, a satisfied groan leaving him soon after, eyes closing automatically, heavy with exhaustion.

 By the time Robotnik opened his eyes and turned his head, Stone was leaning on the counter facing him, a tiny smile permanently frozen on his face as he took dainty gulps of coffee, the steam curling around him like a lover. He simply watched for a while, noting the way his Agent dozed off with his head slightly inclined to the side, how his hands held the mug, two fingers between the handle, while the pinky supported the bottom, the other hand carefully intertwined to form a secure grip.

 The spell was rudely broken when a bark echoed, snapping Stone out of his half-asleep state to leave the mug on the counter and kneel to pet a rather large dog. “This is Pebbles,” he announced, not expecting an answer, his voice soft and fond,

 The odd warmth came back with a vengeance, settling nearby his ribcage and… vibrating? He looked down at his chest to find a small-sized cat, its fur healthy and glowing against the golden sunrays. He raised an eyebrow at it, and the cat stared back as if silently challenging him. “And that’ll be Nik,” Stone chimed in again, walking close to the couch with light steps.

 “Inspiring name,” he mumbled back, refusing to tear his gaze away from the arrogant cat lest he lose the challenge.

 “She likes you, Doctor. An impressive feat,” the Agent smiled, crouching once again to scratch the top of Nik’s head, snatching the cat’s attention away from Robotnik so it would press into the gentle contact, eyes closing in bliss. Robotnik never imagined cats could smile, but Nik seemed to have figured it out. “Robot must be sleeping still, she’s never liked to be up this early,” he said absentmindedly, fully focused on making Nik purr as loudly as she could, the vibrations pleasant against Robotnik’s own racing heartbeat.

 The squeak of a ball startled Robotnik out of the memory. Pebbles sat in front of him, waiting obediently for the moment he could chase the toy across the apartment again. The Doctor stared, “I’m not touching that,” he scowled at the sight of the now wet tennis ball clutched in between Pebble’s teeth, who whined and turned his ears down at the refusal, looking up at him with big, sad eyes. “Ugh, fine!” Robotnik caved, snatching the ball with his pointer finger and thumb and chucking it across the living room again, a stubborn smile curling his lips when Pebbles zoomed after it.

 A badnik made a sharp sound, trying to get the Doctor’s attention. “What?” He frowned at it, receiving a series of stern-sounding beeps, “Oh, right. Thank you, baby.”

 Reminded of the reason he’d broken into the apartment in the first place, he got up from the sofa and resumed his walk through the place, making note of anything suspicious or signs of struggle wherever he passed. Finding nothing in the corridor besides a few dog toys and a fluffy cat bed perched atop a dark bedside table, he made way to the bathroom, flickering the light switch and cringing against the brightness of the lamps. “What kind of psychopath has lights this strong? Honestly, Stone, you could’ve at least gotten a warmer tone,” he mumbled.

 Curiously scanning through his Agent’s toiletries, he scoffed at the frankly obscene amount of skin care products stashed away, surely an expensive collection. While he noted the handful of seemingly fresh clothes in the hamper, his eye caught something interesting, a small glass bottle on top of the sink. “What do we have here?” he murmured, taking the object in hand and turning this and that way.

 A familiar smell hit his nose when the simple transparent cap opened, eyes closing involuntarily to allow his other senses to perceive better. It was Stone’s cologne, a strong but comforting smell of citrus and lavender, a hint of metal somewhere in the middle. The previous unease dimmed slightly; senses soothed by the pleasant scent. It took an incredible amount of self-restraint to avoid stashing the bottle away in his coat; instead, he left it as it was, if not a tad crooked to the left, but not before spritzing it into his wrist and rubbing at it gently to spread the product.

 Head clouded by the still lingering smell, Robotnik exited the bathroom and entered the bedroom on the opposite side of the corridor. Contrary to the bathroom, Stone’s bedroom had much more inviting light, a dim orange spreading around the room in the shape of various lamps, the scent of flowers strong enough to distract him momentarily. By the window, a handful of roses sat in large rectangular vases, neatly trimmed and growing a deep, rich crimson. “Never took him for a florist,” Robotnik smirked, inwardly impressed by how well-cared the flowers appeared.

 Pacing around the room, Robotnik grew frustrated with no obvious signs of fighting or hidden cameras, no evidence of a kidnapping or- wait. Stone’s bed was unmade, pillows thrown about, covers halfway to the ground; his daily pills remained untouched above the bedside table. Frowning, the Doctor turned on his heel, making way to the kitchen, which he found impeccably clean save for a bowl on the counter, a spoon precariously hanging from it.

 Stone’s absence became annoyingly clear then.

 “What do you mean he’ll be gone for a week?!” Robotnik screeched, palms slamming down on the Commander’s mahogany desk with enough force to rattle his inane decorations.

 After his realization back at his Agent’s apartment, Robotnik made a mad dash to the Pentagon, face contorted with righteous fury the entire way, smoke practically seeping out of his ears. His Agent had been taken, alright, and he knew exactly who to blame.

 “Ivo-”

 “Don’t call me that, Daniel,” he growled mockingly, looking down at the tired old man sitting across him. “Where the hell is my Agent?”

 “Agent Stone is on a classified reconnaissance mission-”

 Leaning in closer to the Commander, Robotnik stood eye to eye with the man, a hint of madness glimmering in the deep hazel eyes, “Did I ask what he was doing?” He whispered, deceptively calm. “No, I did not. I asked where he is, Walters. You have five seconds.”

 “Ivo-” He tried again.

 “Wrong. Four,” Robotnik raised his palm, typing in a quick sequence.

 The Commander’s face paled, his voice coming out slightly hysterical, “Doctor, please! No one can know of his whereabouts; it could compromise the mission entirely-”

 “Come on! Out with it already! Three.” A badnik appeared seemingly out of thin air, its cloaking mechanism shutting down, close to the Commander’s head. Dread took over him as he realized he’d been a locked target since the moment Robotnik walked through the door.

 “L-Listen to me, Robotnik,” the old man pleaded, “surely we can reach an agreement!”

 With another click, the badnik extended its weapon, aiming directly at the Commander’s temple. “Two.”

  A fearful whine escaped the man, who stared at the depths of Robotnik’s eyes, seeing someone entirely different for a fraction of a second before finally caving in with a heavy sigh, “He’s on the way to Tajikistan. Agent Stone is essential to this mission, he’s our most qualified-”

 “Don’t care, didn’t ask,” Robotnik sneered, disarming the badnik and commanding it to loom over his shoulder. “If Stone ever disappears again and I’m not the first person notified, you’re gonna be scrapping your intern’s entrails off the walls, capisci?”

 Walters nodded tiredly, all fight leaving him at the prospect of dealing with more paperwork. “We’ll be sure to CC you on our emails to Agent Stone in the future, Robotnik.”

 “Peachy,” he grinned, all sharp teeth and crinkling eyes that fell to a scowl the moment he turned his back to the Commander.

The drone floated away in sync with his steps, an almost inaudible beep sounding from it. “Daddy’s fine, just mildly annoyed,” he reassured. “You did a wonderful job, my sweet little murder machine. Walters almost wet his pants.” He cackled, amused by the badnik’s responding thrill. Together they circled back to the SUV. The remaining badniks were sent away to the laboratory long before they arrived, as there was no need for the whole carton when the Commander was the only “threat” in the way.

Sliding into the driver’s seat for the second time that day, the Doctor took a deep breath, his hands clutching the steering wheel tightly until his gloves squeaked against the rubber. “One week. I can function without Stone for a week, no problem. I won’t even notice, he’s practically a ghost, anyway.”

He slammed his foot onto the pedal, hoping the speed would ease the churning of his stomach or the pounding headache beginning to form.

  The plane landed smoothly, the rumble of the engine waking the Agent from his restless nap. No matter how tired he was or how little sleep he’d had the night before, his body refused to completely shut down during flights, always with a lingering sense of paranoia and dread fueling his body. The Agent wasn’t sure if it was a product of his military days, when people died in the blink of an eye if you weren’t paying attention, or if it came from a base childhood fear of heights he vehemently would deny if asked.

 His eyes, previously glued shut with exhaustion, shot open in an instant to gloss over his surroundings, heart beating wildly in confused panic. “Oh. Right,” he sighed, hands raising to his face and scrubbing the fatigue from it the best he could. Head in hands, another sudden surge of panic took hold. “Shit!” He fumbled for his phone while getting up, pressing the call button with unsteady fingers. It connected on the first ring.

 “Sir-”

 “Zip it, Stone,” Robotnik’s voice came through, white-hot anger palpable even on the other side of the world.

 Stone gulped, “I’m so sorry, Doctor! I got caught up with the boarding and had a really short notice, I-”

 “Just get on with it,” he growled, disregarding how Stone disobeyed a direct order. “Be at the lab’s door next week if you don’t want those pretty flowers you got at home shriveled and dead,” Stone inhaled sharply. Robotnik had been in his bedroom? “Kill whoever you need to kill, botch the mission for all I care, but be here. Your little vacation time will set us back days. Expect overtime, naturally.”

 “Yes, of course,” Stone said softly, wanting to be nowhere but doing overtime beside the Doctor. There was a small pained groan on the other end of the line, clearly not expected to be heard. It tugged at his heartstrings. “Doctor?”

 “What?” Came the sharp response, sounding more tired than angry.

 Phone smushed against his shoulder and ear, Stone shuffled out of the plane with his small luggage, “There’s a thermos on the kitchen counter, it should be good still- I made it before I left the lab yesterday! And there are a few homemade meals frozen for you, too. Please eat?”

 Silence stretched for so long Stone thought the Doctor had hung up on him, a little ball of anxiety making his ribcage feel smaller, tighter.

 “I’ll make an effort,” he huffed, clearly annoyed with Stone’s mother-henning.

 Stone smiled, making way to the military base he was to be stationed on for the next week with confident steps, “Thank you, sir.” He changed his phone from one side to the other, fishing for the ID they’d given him on the way, “Oh! Could you maybe check in on Pebbles, Robot and Nik while I’m away? Not every day, of course. I understand if you can’t, I can call my usual pet sitter, but she’s away on a family emergency and-”

 “I’ll go check if your creatures haven’t destroyed the house, Stone. Focus on whatever the hell you need to do over there,” he interrupted, a smidge of amusement beneath the lingering irritation.

 With a relieved sigh, Stone threw his luggage on the uncomfortable-looking bed, sitting beside it, “Thank you again, Doctor. I’ll finish this as fast as I can,” he said, sounding a bit too wistful even to himself.

 “Yes, yes,” he dismissed, faint sounds of movement coming from the Doctor’s side, followed by the instantly recognizable thrill of a badnik. “The babies miss you,” he grumbled.

 That got an emotional grin from the Agent, who was now regretting not making a video call instead, “I miss them too, tell them I’ll be home soon.”

 Something fell to the ground on the other side, followed by a distant string of multilingual curses, “Gotta go!”

 Stone frowned, “Doctor? What happened? Are you okay?”

 More shuffling, another obscure-sounding threat, “No! Get out of there you-” A yelp echoed through the phone. “Be here next week, or I swear I’ll drag you by your stupid tie myself! Stop that!”

 “Wait, sir-” Stone tried again, but the line was cut the next second, leaving him to simmer in the oppressive silence of his temporary home, the warmth of the call quickly replaced by cold, hard reality.

 It was fine. He would finish this in record time. The Doctor wouldn’t even notice he was gone.

 “What is the matter with you?!” Robotnik accused, throwing his phone at the console and turning to stare at the rebellious drone. It floated away with a petulant air while the man stared, astonished. “Oh, we’re mutinying now? Is that it?”

 Promptly ignoring its creator, the badnik scooted away to the charging ports, shutting itself down. Robotnik gaped, endlessly confused by the drone’s attitude. As soon as Stone said the word “home”, it bumped into him as if trying to get closer to the phone and managed to strike his shoulder, causing him to lose balance and drop the device to the ground, the screen now cracked around the edges. He could build another one in an hour, but still.

 Suddenly, a rumble ripped across Robotnik’s body, the pang of hunger painfully familiar, as well as the caffeine deprivation. Stone’s words echoed in his mind, the worry and the soft plea for him to take care of himself, how he’d planned ahead and left something so Robotnik wouldn’t starve, too busy with work to cook or order anything. Cursing the Agent’s foresight under his breath, Robotnik found himself in the dimly lit kitchen soon after, a steaming plate of pasta and a mug of cold latte in hand.

 The warm meal was relaxing enough that his body finally registered how long he’d been awake, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Since his encounter with the Commander and the subsequent tantrum he’d thrown, the Doctor had locked himself up in the laboratory for the past day, waiting for the moment Stone’s plane would land so he could chew his ear off. He had almost swatted the phone away instead of picking it up when it finally rang.

 Now, with the problem of Stone’s disappearing act solved and a good meal in his stomach, the Doctor wanted nothing more than to pass out for the next eighteen hours or so, damn the consequences. Without the Agent, his work would be delayed anyway.

 Sleep came quickly, claiming him a few minutes after his head had hit the pillow, the weight of the covers a welcome comfort against his aching body. He inhaled deeply, pleased that the scent of the Agent’s cologne had stuck to him, and drifted asleep, dead to the world for the next several hours.

 The first day passed in a blur. Robotnik, despite his figurative middle finger to upper management, had no choice but to jump out of bed somewhere after nine, rubbing his face with a naked hand and dragging himself to the main computer, less than ready to start the day.

 “Stone, where’s that one piece I-” He yawned, reaching for the mug across the table with eager hands. “Stone?”

 Silence greeted him back, as well as empty air where his favorite mug should be. “Ah. Right.”

 Frustrated, the Doctor refused to get up from his spot for the rest of the day. The small twinge of guilt that struck him for breaking his almost-promise to Stone was promptly stomped down and shoved deep into the background of his mind. He had no time to eat. Stone didn’t need to know.

 The Agent, on his corner of the world, felt a strange sense of urgency take over him. He promptly ignored it in favor of the mission, but the nervous energy vibrating beneath his skin was unrelenting, making him stumble and take risks, something entirely out of character. So much so that his fellow coworkers started to wonder if he was truly the right man for the mission, their looks worried and scornful in equal measure. It made his skin prickle, feathers ruffling with annoyance at the perspective of being looked down on by people who had no idea what he was capable of.

 A well-known dormant fire rose from within him then, the need to prove himself, to make others regret underestimating him. He would show them. He had someone to come back to, after all.

 By the third day, the Doctor found himself standing once again in the middle of Stone’s living room, an overeager German Shepherd pouncing about the room while the two previously missing cats napped together on the sofa, purring loudly.

 No badnik accompanied him this time around, as he saw no reason to bring one of the little darlings along, he wouldn’t stay long. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, truth be told. Stone had asked him to check in on the animals and not much else, and he was oblivious to the location of food, water, and even the litter box.

 A little more snooping couldn’t hurt, right? It was imperative for their safety.

 Turning around the kitchen island, Robotnik couldn’t help but scowl in disgust at the dirty bowl still sitting idly on the counter, now beginning to smell rather unpleasant. “They really just snatched him up, huh?” he mused, picking the offending object up and putting it in the sink, letting water fill it to the brim. He’d take care of it later. Maybe.

 There was the scratch of a paw against his pant leg, the dull nails digging into the fabric and pulling it down, “What do you want?” He asked, an eyebrow raised at the retired K-9. It whined and strutted away, stopping in the middle of the room to look back at him, a clear request to follow. A wave of strange childlike curiosity hit him as he followed the dog across the apartment, being most likely led to a hard-to-reach toy or a dead insect.

 Pebbles stopped abruptly, signaling with his muzzle where he wanted Robotnik to look. “Well, aren’t you a smart beast,” he praised, crouching down to scratch the dog’s chin. Pebbles had shown him exactly what he wanted to see. Before him sat a pair of large, black bowls supported by a wooden platform and raised a few centimeters from the ground. One contained dry food, the other, fresh, running water originating from a continuous loop system.

 Still, there was no litter box in sight. With a long-suffering sigh, he turned to Pebbles, “Is there any possibility you know where that disgusting thing is?” The dog huffed, as if telling him he’s done enough already, the cats could fend for themselves.

 Rolling his eyes, the Doctor got up with a grunt, joints cracking and popping, definitely not what they used to be, and walked back to the living room, scanning it once again in search of a litter box. The apartment had no smell, no trace of it anywhere; maybe Stone took the cats outside when they needed it? No. His Agent would never allow it, even with a harness and constant vigil, he knew Stone would be paranoid about something happening to his dear pets. Now impatient, he snooped around more aggressively, finding chewed toys and more than a few potted plants stationed at every corner, hiding cameras and what Robotnik recognized as one of his own discontinued badnik models, small and adorable, but aggressive when activated, with a barely functioning AI but intelligent enough to detect threats, why Stone had one at home, or how he acquired it, was lost on him.

 A slow, mischievous smile parted his lips, thinking of the chaos his first models wrought upon people. He still recalled Walters running for his life as a guard-dog badnik chased him with a taser, roughly a decade ago. It was worth the week-long mandatory meetings. Stone hadn’t been around then, serving in the special forces before being pulled from field work and shoved in his general direction, a punishment for both at the time. A pang of nostalgia hit him, observing the obsolete model and running careful fingers around its metal hull, now forever dormant without the unique batteries it required.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the drone, guilt clogging his throat. He never meant to abandon his first creations, but the march of progress had made it impossible for constant updates. He was grateful, somewhat, that Stone had found this one and kept it safe and sound in his home, surrounded by life and a peaceful environment it never had the chance to experience. His eyes stung, but he blinked the sensation away before it could get out of his control.

 A furry mass snaked at his feet, the constant rumbling of a purr vibrating against his calf, “Now what?” He grumbled at Nik, who decided to scream her little lungs out until Robotnik was forced to pick her up, holding it awkwardly. “Is Stone not spending enough time with you? How much lung capacity do you have to scream that loud?” He asked, somehow expecting an answer. Nik mewled, raising a paw to swat at his mustache. “Stop that! It took effort to make it this perfect, you know. Much like your sister over there trying to clean an entire eighty-pound dog,” he snickered, observing Robot lose her patience and lunge at Pebbles, the two engaging in a rather violent but altogether harmless play-fight.

 He sank onto the couch, Nik’s purring easing the near-constant low-grade anxiety plaguing him since the day Stone left. The sun was setting behind him, the molten gold turning into deep purples and pinks, a few stubborn stars already making themselves known in the night sky. It cast deep shadows from the Agent’s decorations, the three floor-to-ceiling windows allowing as much natural light as possible. He was unusually warm, comfortable even.

 Eyes heavy, Robotnik fought against sleep with no avail, dozing off surrounded by his Agent’s presence.

 The fifth day was ruthless. The Agent flopped face down into his stiff bed with a groan, limbs aching and head pounding with a migraine. In his hurry to get to the private airport, he’d forgotten his pills and was now paying the price for his carelessness. Pawing for his personal phone below the pillow, he stared at the lock screen, squinting against the brightness. “Soon,” he whispered, the image of Nik sleeping atop a distracted Robotnik greeting him back.

 He’d proven himself ten times over by now, sure that his position within the temporary work force was established and respected, even if it took scrubbing the blood of one brainless soldier from his pristine shirt the night before.

 He didn’t mean to get into a fight. Running headfirst into danger was the Doctor’s schtick, not his, but his patience was wearing thin day by day, aggravated by the constant pain and his haste to go back where he belonged, miles and miles from that insipid, meaningless mission, and so, when the tall, brawny looking man shoulder-checked him in the hallway, Stone barely thought before grabbing and slamming him into the ground with three quick movements, muscle memory taking effect in the face of immediate danger.

 “Argh!” The nan grunted, ribs radiating sharp pain across his entire chest, momentarily robbing his breath.

 Stone moved to straddle him, holding his hips in place while a fist raised to punch him square in the nose, blood splattering across the ground and painting his face with crimson. It felt good to let out steam, to use his training for something other than leading stupid, small people, to feel bone crunching beneath his touch as his fist connected once again with the man’s face.

 An animal-like growl came from beneath him, the soldier finally getting to his senses and grabbing his arm with an iron grip before he could land another strike, shoving him away but still unable to escape the tight lock of the Agent’s tights against his sides. Instead of trying to free himself, the man landed a punch to the side of Stone’s torso one, two, three times in rapid succession, making the Agent wince.

 Now truly irritated, Stone grabbed the soldier’s arm and twisted it when it went to another hit, locking it in place as he propped himself up, swiftly digging a knee onto the soldier’s stomach with brutal force. His face hurt, not from any violent contact, but from the width of his sharp smile, practically splitting his face in two. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” he said, leaning to breathe into the man’s face, an eerie glint to his usually warm eyes.

 The soldier, now devoid of any room for retaliation, nodded with a gulp, breathing with difficulty against the weight of Stone’s body above him, blood seeping from his nose like a fountain, staining his clothes. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

 Still annoyed by the blows to his side, Stone twisted the other’s arm a bit more, watching with satisfaction as he whimpered pathetically, “I didn’t hear you.”

 “I’m sorry, sir,” he tried again, letting a pained grunt when Stone finally got up and released him.

 “That’s better!” He chirped; his smile now unnerving as it didn’t reach his eyes. He raised his eyes to find a small group had gathered around them in the hallway from both sides, forming a makeshift fight ring. Smile fading, he fixed his tie and shirt collar, a displeased hum leaving his throat at the speck of blood now staining his shirt, “Show’s over, everyone.” He said, watching as people dispersed at his disguised order, a flush of pride swelled within him, a voice sounding much like Robotnik’s whispering a ‘good job, Agent’ in his mind.

  He could still feel the hits to his ribcage, sure that it would bruise an ugly black and blue and hinder his mobility for days on end. He only hoped the Doctor wouldn’t push him around too much when he came back.

  He did find the litter box eventually. Hiding behind one truly gigantic monstera was an automatic, modified litter box, self-cleaning and self-refilling. Robot had led him to it when panic started to set in, even when the house had no smell other than its natural scent.

The cat had woken him up on the sixth day with small licks to the face, the sandpaper texture earning a scowl and a disgusted groan, but a gentle hand to pet her, nonetheless. He stared at the ceiling with barely open eyes, the heaviness of deep sleep clouding his thoughts but allowing a pleasant state of in between consciousness and dreaming. When Pebbles threatened to jump on the bed, the Doctor finally caved in, throwing the heavy blankets aside and sitting, a shiver running up his spine when his feet touched the cold ground.

Wobbling out of the comfortable bed with a yawn, Robotnik dodged the cat weaving through his feet, careful not to step on a tail lest he end up cleaning scratches from his calf again. Stone’s supply of Band-Aids had suffered a great amount already.

 His hands, naked saved from a few bandages, now reached blindly for the control gloves on the nightstand. The room was still pitch black, impossible to move around much without hitting something. With a triumphant little exclamation, he slipped a glove on, activating one of the tiny badniks hidden in his coat hung by the door. It floated away to him across the apartment, the sounds of Robot starting her mad chase for it ripping a smile from him.

 “Ah, there you are,” he praised, the red of the drone’s visor illuminating the room enough that he could move safely. Gathering a handful of products and ransacking Stone’s wardrobe for a clean shirt, he moved to let the items in the bathroom before refilling the food bowls.

 The sun was already high in the sky, around ten in the morning if he hadn’t magically forgotten how the sun worked. Robot had strutted back to the living room, tail high and happy as she carried the mini badnik in her mouth. The Doctor, of course, purposefully let it happen, recalling from somewhere that pets needed enrichment to stay healthy. The drone didn’t seem to mind either, beeping a little tune suspiciously like a fanfare.

 Nik had followed him out of the bedroom, as had Pebbles, eager to have their morning routine started. “Give me a moment, you overgrown puppy,” he grumbled halfheartedly, scratching an itchy spot behind his ear with another yawn. Calmly, he circled the kitchen counter and started a mug of pure black coffee, having made sense of Stone’s simpler coffee machines roughly two days ago. The more complex, expensive-looking ones at the home bar were to be left untouched, naturally.

 The old dog whined expectantly, big expressive eyes staring into his soul. “You’re as bad as your father,” he huffed, retrieving the tennis ball from a basket beside the couch and tossing it as far as he could across the house, watching with amusement as Pebbles and Robot alike dashed for it.

 It felt strangely normal, what he’d been doing. Waking up, making coffee, playing with animals that did not belong to him while working on the couch, for the first time in his life, comfortable somewhere that wasn’t his lab. He’d have to leave before Stone came back, of course. The Agent couldn’t suspect he’d been living at his house. The lab, although comfortable, felt empty and cold without the presence he grew to expect, to crave.

 Breaking in on Stone’s apartment and staying there wasn’t the plan, not at first, but when his hand raised to open the door and froze there, holding it like a lifeline, and he could not go one step further than the threshold, it became clear he had nowhere else to go. There wasn’t guilt, or a sense of shame, really, just the irrefutable fact that some part of him, as small as it was, belonged here.

 Sipping the last of his coffee and leaving the mug in the sink to be rinsed later, he dodged Pebbles on his way to the bathroom, leaving the door half open in case any of the pets decided they had had enough of the peaceful morning and started breaking things. The hot water did wonders for his perpetually tense shoulders, a sigh leaving his lips when the first drops hit.

 Stone reached for the door handle with unsteady fingers, the exhaustion of the trip back taking more of a toll than expected. His side still ached, the sting of a new bruise turning into a dull throb as the days passed, irritating but manageable.

 As soon as his hand turned the handle, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, and he gave a pained groan, not in the mood to talk to anyone at all. Sighing, he stepped through the door and picked up his phone, Walter’s voice coming through tired.

 “I take it you arrived well?” He asked, the small talk grating on Stone’s nerves to no end. He hummed, as good an answer as the Commander would get from him. “Good, good... Listen, Agent, Robotnik-”

 “Doctor,” he interrupted, crouching to pet Pebbles behind his ear.

 Silence, then a cough, “Yes, apologies. Doctor Robotnik came by a few days ago, demanding to know your whereabouts.”

 The Agent frowned. Robotnik was the one to call him when the week started. Why wasn’t he aware of where Stone was stationed? “Yes?”

 “He might be a little... irritable, right now,” the Commander dragged. “A few days ago, he locked himself in the lab, and when we went to retrieve him for a field test, he was gone entirely.”

 Stone’s heart fell to his stomach, a cold, grasping dread taking hold of his entire body. The Doctor had disappeared? And he wasn’t notified? Not even a message, a call, nothing. Anger began to bubble up, his blood turning to fire in his veins. “The Doctor is gone.” He said calmly.

 “Well, you see, Agent-”

 “The Doctor is gone, and no one thought of informing me, his bodyguard, of it?” He continued, each word punctuated with vitriol and disdain, masking his inward panic.

 The Commander sputtered and coughed again before words filtered through the line, “We couldn’t afford you getting distracted, Agent, surely you understand-”

 “What I understand, Commander, is that my charge is missing. Has been missing for several days, in fact, and no one even thought of warning me. If the Doctor is anything but in perfect health when I find him, the entire Pentagon will know exactly why I got demoted all those years ago,” Stone growled, “and you will be receiving my resignation letter soon after.”

 A tired sigh echoed to his ear, an inaudible grumble he couldn’t decipher but was sure it meant something detrimental about him followed. “I apologize for how the situation has been handled, Agent. I guarantee you that Doctor Robotnik is alive and well, simply not within the compound. We have ways to ensure his well-being that don’t involve you.”

 Another burst of anger flowed through him at the Commander’s words. Everything regarding the Doctor involved him. Always. Whether they liked it or not. He opened his mouth to tell the Commander so, but the sound of his shower turning off made the words die in his throat before they could get out.

 There was someone in his house. His gaze quickly darted around, making note of all three animals sleeping peacefully or chewing on a forgotten toy and the dirty mug in the sink. Whoever was brave enough to break into his apartment made themselves quite comfortable, even appeasing Pebbles on their way in. Walters was still talking in his ear, sounding rather annoyed with his lack of responses for the past minute. “I’ll get back to you later, Commander,” he said curtly, giving the old man no time to object before ending the call.

 With slow, measured steps, the Agent walked about halfway the length of the corridor, stopping a few meters from the ajar bathroom door. Steam leaked from the opening, the floral scented shampoo he used heavy in the air. Body tense like a spring, Stone waited for the door to open.

 Robotnik pulled the old band t-shirt down his torso; it was a bit small against his lean frame, but the cloth felt nice against his warm skin, the tight sensation providing some security as a bonus. His hair was hastily dried with a towel that now sat above his shoulder, catching any leftover water drops.

 A naked hand pushed the door open with ease as the other rubbed at his still heavy eyes. It was entirely too early to be awake, no matter how much blissful sleep he got the night before, bundled in Stone’s bedsheets, toasty and relaxed to the point his limbs felt like jelly.

 His state of peacefulness lasted two seconds before his brain registered another human being, a shriek tearing through his throat when his eyes finally locked onto the strange mass in front of him.

 Throughout Robotnik’s entire scream, Agent Stone stood frozen in place, mind racing to comprehend what the actual hell was happening. “Doctor?” He said weakly.

 “You’re early!” Robotnik accused, his ears burning.

 Stone could do little more than gape at him then, his previously tense posture melting into one of extreme relief before it was quickly replaced by perplexity, “Doctor, have you been living here?” He asked, stepping closer to the older man, heart beating a mile a minute.

 “I’ve been house-sitting, Stone. It’s entirely different,” he sniffed, uncharacteristically avoiding looking his Agent in the eye.

 The Agent couldn’t fight the smile that curled his lips, a tender glint appearing in his eyes, “Is that my shirt?”

 It should’ve been impossible, but the Doctor’s ears became even redder, the color now spreading to his neck and into his slightly exposed chest. The Agent felt his mouth dry, a discreet gulp going down his throat. “I had no clean clothes left,” Robotnik answered moodily.

 “Why are you here, Doctor?” Stone asked softly, watching with a smidge of worry as Robotnik’s face went through about a dozen different emotions at once, stopping at the most open he could manage.

 “The laboratory was… insufficient,” he said.

 Frowning, Stone came a step closer, “Did something happen while I was away? Are the badniks alright?”

 There, in the dimly lit corridor, Stone saw how the shadows seemed to extend to grab Robotnik, a visible, almost tangible air of loneliness to him. It had always been there, grasping at the corners of his life and pulling him down as he desperately told himself it was for the best, that it was safe. Stone wanted to do nothing more than drive those shadows away, the ache in his chest matching the vulnerability of Robotnik’s hazel eyes.

 Silence stretched for a moment.

 “It was too empty, you… you left,” he started, tone more accusing than intended. “You left, Stone, and I had no idea where you were or if something happened. Next thing I know, you’re gone for an entire week, and I tried-” he laughed, devoid of humor. “I tried to pretend you were never there at all.”

 Now chest to chest with Robotnik, Stone looked up at him fondly, “I take it didn’t work?”

 Offended, Robotnik tried to push the Agent away, “Of fucking course it didn’t work!” He barked in Stone’s face, furious with the amount of feeling he was letting bleed through the cracks. “Everywhere I looked, every corner I turned, there was a reminder of you, clinging to me like a blasted barnacle, even on the other side of the world.”

 Back against the wall, Stone took a few seconds to admire the Doctor’s face, red with furrowed eyebrows, the unstyled mustache and hair falling to his forehead, still damp from the shower, the salt and pepper stubble growing on his chin and up his cheeks. “I missed you too, Doctor,” he said at last.

 “Don’t flatter yourself,” Robotnik sneered, face contorting into a deep scowl.

 The smell of the Agent’s cologne was incredibly distracting, intensified by the fact that he wasn’t the one wearing it. “I’m not going anywhere, sir.”

 A hint of uncertainty flashed in Robotnik’s eyes, who was now keenly aware of how close they’ve become during his outburst, “Don’t lie to me, Stone. We both know you’re terrible at it.”

 Oh, if only you knew, Stone thought, risking snaking a hand around the Doctor’s own, the skin-to-skin contact sending shivers down his spine. “I’m serious. No more field missions, no disappearing in the middle of the night.”

 Robotnik had lost his speech for a moment, attention solely focused on the burning sensation of the Agent’s hand around his, grounding and maddening in equal measure. He licked his lips before looking up at Stone’s face again, “And how exactly are you going to convince our dear Commander you belong solely to me?”

 Stone smiled, all teeth, eyes crinkling, “I already belong to you, sir,” he said softly, a sly grin replacing the sweet expression, “and I might’ve threatened Walters with my resignation a few minutes ago.”

 A startled bark of laughter escaped Robotnik, recalling how he himself had intimidated the Commander on Stone’s behalf not a few days ago. His heart leaped in his chest, the Agent’s confident air shaking something loose inside his head, “Well, I suppose that’ll do it. Good job, Agent,” he smiled, the rare praise making Stone beam at him in turn, the sight almost blinding and yet not nearly enough.

 Robotnik’s gaze fell to Stone’s mouth. It ached, the sudden, ravaging feeling taking control of his body as he moved his head closer, stopping just short of Stone’s lips and feeling the man’s breath hit his face, hot and humid. Taking mercy on Robotnik, the Agent leaned in, giving him plenty of time to back away if needed. It was the softest of touches, barely a kiss by usual standards, sweet and tender, unlike themselves, a silent question. Stone backed away first, an apology already on the tip of his tongue when Robotnik all but slammed him against the wall, hands desperately moving to touch anything within reach.

 Unlike their first kiss, the second was biting, passionate in a way that left them gasping for air. If the first was a question, the one following was a resounding affirmation. Robotnik held him as if he might’ve disappeared at any moment, long fingers curling around the nape of his neck and cupping his cheek, mouth moving in tandem with his. Their teeth knocked momentarily, a startled laugh leaving Stone before he held Robotnik’s head gently, guiding him to a more favorable angle. Each touch left a lingering sensation, a pleasant burn against skin and into their chests, now heaving with effort to gather enough oxygen. Robotnik pulled away the second time, panting and red-faced, eyes tightly closed.

 “Overwhelmed?” Stone asked gently, voice rough. The older man nodded slightly. “Would you like me to leave-”

 “No!” The Doctor exclaimed, tone equally as rough but tainted with panic. “Don’t go anywhere.”

 “Okay,” he answered, tongue darting to wet his lips. “Okay.”

 A moment passed, and the sound of their ragged breathing was the only thing keeping them from complete silence. The Agent raised a hand to gather the towel on the Doctor’s shoulders, using it to dry the specks of water running down the man’s temple and into his neck, soaking the hem of the old, well-loved shirt. He did love how it hugged Robotnik’s body; it would be a shame if he had to change it. Robotnik still had his eyes closed, now relaxed, accepting Stone’s gentle ministrations.

 “I…” Robotnik started, a low murmur, far from the heated and shrill tone he usually took when cornered. “I did- I miss you, Stone.”

 A confused but fond look passed through Stone’s face, “I’m right here?”

 With a great sigh, the kind that pulled all the air from one’s lungs, Robotnik opened his eyes at last, his expression peaceful, content. “You are, aren’t you?” he said, sounding slightly awed and stroking the Agent’s cheek firmly, reveling in the texture of his beard.

 Stone leaned into it, the ever-present anxiety of the past six days melting away instantly, his heart singing with joy.

 Later, much later, they dozed off while tangled in each other’s bodies, a strong arm wrapped around a slim torso, a long leg thrown in between thighs, when Stone remembered one small detail about the whole ordeal.

 “Doctor?” He whispered, loath to disrupt the strange, blissful quiet that had befallen the apartment.

 “Hm?” The older man grunted back, burying his face between the pillow and Stone’s throat, a mischievous smile creeping up his lips when the Agent’s pulse picked up beneath his lips.

 Propping himself up onto his elbow, Stone frowned, “The Commander mentioned-“

 “From this day forward, I forbid any mention of that old bag of shriveled bones in this bedroom,” he scowled, annoyed by Stone moving away more than Walters being involved in their pillow talk, and twisted his body to look up at the Agent’s relaxed, but miffed, face.

 “Let me finish!” He laughed despite himself, unable to be irritated with Robotnik for too long. “He mentioned you came by his office, asking where I was.”

 Now as perplexed as the Agent, Robotnik tilted his head to the side, “Yes? Why is that relevant, Stone?”

 He watched as Stone’s eyes darted around his face, searching for something he couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. “You didn’t remember,” he said, the hint of amusement making itself known in the way the Agent’s eyes crinkled.

 Robotnik had absolutely no idea what Stone was talking about, and he despised not knowing things. He sat up, now looking Stone straight in the eye, “What the hell are you talking about?”

 The amusement quickly grew into a laughing fit that made Stone wince with every breath, still suffering from the effects of his injury. Despite being the one getting laughed at, Robotnik couldn’t stop the quirk of his lips at the display he so dearly missed. Wordlessly, as Stone still fought against disbelieving giggles, he extended his arm to Robotnik.

 The cogs turned and turned until the realization hit like a brick to the head. He groaned, ears burning an intense crimson. “Your watch, of course,” he said, deeply embarrassed, sinking into the mattress again and pulling the covers up to his forehead.

 “No! Don’t hide, Doctor!” Stone laughed, joining him beneath the covers, light practically nonexistent. “I thought it was sweet-”

 “Zip it! I don’t want to hear it,” he mumbled, straining to see Stone’s face yet knowing the exact shape of his grin.

 “It was! You went all the way to the Pentagon for me, Doctor,” he gently pointed, shimmying closer to the other man, a warm hand cupping his cheek.

 Rolling his eyes, Robotnik allowed Stone to come closer, wrapping an arm around him but being mindful of the tender spot on his side. “Don’t let it get to your head, the only ego in need of stroking here is my own.”

 “I’ll see to that, sir, don’t worry,” he answered cheerfully. He breathed in the clean, inviting smell coming off Robotnik, suddenly freezing. “How much of my cologne is left, Doctor?”

 Silence.

 “I’ll buy you a new one,” he interrupted, squeezing Stone tight enough to rob him of air.

 An expensive cologne was a reasonable enough price to pay if it meant the Doctor was waiting for him at the end of the day, Stone mused, sinking into Robotnik’s solid, warm presence with a content hum, finally at peace.