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Sonic sat down on a fractured stone and kicked his legs out. “I’m saying you don’t have to carry everything alone. Even guardians need a break.”

“Maybe,” Sonic grinned. “Depends on the chili dog situation.”

They talked less after that. The air turned colder, and Sonic shuffled closer, not quite touching but close enough that their shoulders grazed. Knuckles didn’t move away. Instead, he said, quietly, “You make it easy to forget…everything.”

“You ever think about leaving?” Sonic asked after a while. sonicknuckleswsonic3bin file work

Knuckles opened his jaw, but the words he usually used—gruff refusals, tests of strength—didn’t come. He had lived by proving himself; accepting help felt like weakness. Yet Sonic’s blue eyes were steady, not pleading. He made it sound like a small thing: a walk, a conversation, a race down the cliffs. Things Sonic did best.

When Sonic finally stood, the night had grown deep and cool. “I’ll stick around for a bit,” he said.

Sonic pushed himself up and jogged down the slope because he couldn’t help it. “Hey,” he called, grinning before he reached him. Not a joke this time. Just a simple, honest word. Sonic sat down on a fractured stone and kicked his legs out

Sonic saluted. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

That got Knuckles to look up properly. For a heartbeat, the island’s guardian seemed to measure whether to close off his face. Then he shrugged, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m always okay. This place is my duty.”

Knuckles watched him with narrowed eyes. “Like a long visit?” “Depends on the chili dog situation

—End

Knuckles barked another laugh and tapped Sonic’s shoulder. “Fine. Stay. But no stealing the emerald.”

Knuckles had always been more at home on the island than in conversation. He was a guardian, a stubborn, fierce one, and that fierceness kept the Master Emerald safe. Tonight, his silhouette was softer in the falling light—broad shoulders hunched against the breeze, dreadlocks dancing.