Eggman was honestly not ready to have this kind of talk. For all he knew, Sonic had already forgotten about Manic and everything. How was he going to explain this to his sick patient? He didn't see Sonic write anything down about them during their little writing venture, but he also tried not to interfere that much. Especially since Sonic had to remember things from his own perspective, not a general one. Whatever he remembered... Things he'd heard, things he'd seen... that shaped a better story for an amnesiac than it would to have an outside narrative.
So with a breath, he entered the house to a strangely... pleasant surprise. Metal Sonic was actually sitting with him? And it looked like they were both playing some video game. Well, that was... something. Sage flickered into view, her expression strangely amused.
``It seems Sonic has been insisting Metal Sonic challenge him in less violent ways to let him have a chance to win at something,'' she explained briefly. ``It seems just as Sonic cannot resist a challenge, my brother has been quite... antsy, being unable to fight.'' Eggman gave a sigh, feeling a strange tension leave his shoulders. Hell, if that was all Metal wanted, he'd have set things up weeks ago! But that didn't matter now. ``Speaking of siblings... how is he?''
``He's... got a lot of emotions. Certainly. It seems Mobotropolis was more closed off than I had thought. He truly didn't know I survived.''
Sage looked thoughtful, looking over at Sonic. ``What about - ''
``No. I didn't tell him. How could I? What would I even say? `Your brother is alive but he's losing his memories so he probably won't recognize you?''' he gestured to the open air. ``I may be a villain but I'm not trying to psychologically break someone I have no aggression with.'' He stared for a moment before adding, ``He probably wouldn't even believe me if I said so...''
``Perhaps,'' Sage looked like she wanted to say more, but she knew this wasn't their conversation. Instead she returned to her position at his scanners, and he took a seat in one of the chairs to wait. He wanted to smirk when he saw it was a racing game of some kind - always with speed. Did it just come naturally to hedgehogs?
It was only after a few more rounds that Sonic started to get a bit antsy, and Metal seemed to understand, turning the game off and retreating with a nod, letting Sonic turn his focus to him. Ah, to have a robot that actually understood some social cues... Well, that or Sage had informed him they needed to talk. Either worked. Making her was truly a blessing.
``Didn't go shopping this morning?'' Sonic asked with a curious head tilt upon seeing the doc's hands were empty. ``Figured you left cuz you forgot something.''
``Feh, the only one forgetting things is you, hedgehog,'' he quipped back, before pausing. That was... ``That was foul.'' He sighed, shaking his head before moving on. ``But that is part of the issue... Sonic, I have to ask you right now. Did you... write anything about your family?''
``My family...?'' Sonic tilted his head, scratching his head. ``I... don't know. Lemme check.'' With a curious frown, Sonic pulled out the few notebooks they'd worked on together, flipping through one. ``Lessee... there's me... you... Tails... Amy... Knuckles... Shadow...'' he kept flipping through the various pages, listing off names as he went through entries, his frown deepening when he came to the end and found nothing. ``Huh, no, there's nothing in here... Unless I put them under something else. Why? Who are they again?''
Eggman resisted the urge to gnash his teeth. Damn, was his suspicion true? Or did he really put details about them in somewhere else? If Manic ever did discover Sonic before he was cured, he really hoped there'd be something Sonic could use to refresh his memory. But as far as he'd seen, there was nothing about Manic, Sonia, Aleena, or Mobotropolis in general.
``...Sonic, a few months ago, before you started getting symptoms, you agreed to an interview for someone from your hometown of Mobotropolis.'' At that, he could see a strange flicker across Sonic's eyes, as if maybe trying to call back. ``Since you had started dealing with the Cyber Corruption, you never contacted them after that. So they sent out a representative to locate you. I happened to accidentally meet said representative...''
Sonic was now sitting straight up, eyes wide in interest. ``A representative from my hometown is here? Damn, I guess they really want their interview... What should - ''
``It's not that simple, Sonic,'' he quickly interrupted. ``...They sent Manic. Your brother, Sonic. He's here, in the city, looking for you.''
Green eyes bored into Eggman's, and the scientist couldn't be sure if he was scared, surprised, or confused, and that part irked him. How much did Sonic even remember? Did the name ring any bells at this point?
``Manic...'' he murmured, lips pursed. ``My brother... Mobotropolis...'' Sonic found himself rubbing at the middle of his chest, as if searching for something. ``...He's... green, right? And Mobotropolis... I remember telling Knuckles about being there and he didn't believe me, said I should never go back... something about Chaos Energy being sucked away or something...?''
``Yes, that's right.'' Eggman so badly wanted to just curse. It seemed he really had forgotten a lot already, in the time between the last emerald to now. He'd need to get the final two quickly. ``Anything else you can remember?''
``Something about... a guitar... and I got this weird memory of putting a piece of glass in my sock drawer, but I dunno how that's part of it.''
``...Let me see if it's still there. Perhaps it'll jog your memory enough to write something.'' As he headed up the steps, he couldn't help but reminisce. How many of his old SWATBots had been destroyed by that thing's lasers? How many crude notes had blasted out of it with those inexperienced hands? And gods, he could only imagine how dangerous Sonic would be if he still used it.
Sure enough, he managed to find the exact thing he was looking for, his eyes widening at the way it was so cleanly broken. It almost looked like two chicken legs... Stifling his shock, he came back down, placing the pieces in Sonic's hand together. The moment he saw Sonic's eyes widen before drifting into a very guilty expression, he leaned forward.
``Son of a bitch...'' Sonic groaned, placing one hand over his eyes. ``Please tell me you didn't - ''
``He doesn't know, no. I made sure to leave your name out of the conversation. Sonic, if you saw his face the first time he saw me still alive...'' he sighed, shaking his head. ``Finding you like this would destroy him.''
``...I never told Tails about this either. He never asked, so I never thought to bring it up... Damn I could dropkick myself for this now. He's an adult now and still thinks I'm an orphan like him. Gods, can you imagine him finding out I have a family I haven't talked to in fifteen years, and then seeing that family is from Queen Aleena? Ugghhh... And if Manic finds me, memories or no memories... He's gonna be so pissed I never wrote a letter or anything.'' Sonic pressed his hands to his eyes, and Eggman somehow knew his arch-enemy was trying to fight off tears, showing it as frustration. Much as he wanted to call it out, he didn't need to get Sonic distracted.
``Well, you have a chance to write it now, in your own words, before you forget again. I'd highly suggest doing that, first.''
With a pause and barely a sniffle, Sonic acquiesced, and grabbed a pen.
``Family and Childhood in Robotropolis,'' he murmured, starting a fresh title. ``My long years of fighting Eggman go back before South Island...'' he started, speaking out loud as he used the moment to recall as much as he could. He had to get this out. If he did lose his memories... he wanted to be sure his friends knew who he was. No. Who he used to be. It wasn't him anymore, but it was part of his past. They should know the truth. His assumed status was a lie by omission, and while he didn't regret his choices... He couldn't lose this chance to come clean, before he well and truly forgot.
After that was all said and done, though, Eggman would have to leave again, as he got a text reminder about his dry-clean appointment.
---
With map in hand, Manic went out on the town to his usual path. Without the crown on his head, people weren't as likely to really notice him, and those that did only waved or nodded, rather than going out of their way to ensure he had space. And he really appreciated that more than he could say. It was so nice to just... walk on a sidewalk without guards surrounding him. To just... feel like part of the crowd. No one was coming to bother him, no one had any questions, no one wanted pictures...
``Damn, people here really don't get celebrity complexes...'' he murmured, a blissful smile on his face before it fell. Why couldn't Mobotropolis be like that? Why couldn't they just be like `Hi, Prince Manic!' and move along... Or just try to make small talk...? He couldn't remember a single time that anyone just asked him how he was doing... It always felt like their presence was a spectacle. With a sigh, he trudged along, doing his best to school his expression. People here didn't need to know his struggle.
Unfortunately, when he got to the corner, the feline wasn't there. ``Well fuck... guess I'm doin `is solo...'' he sighed, whipping out his map again. Maybe the lynx was out chasing leads as well, which would still be nice. But now where would he go? It wasn't like he could snoop around donation drop-offs like in the past... But as luck would have it, there was a boutique nearby. Maybe he could at least find things he liked, and go from there.
He followed the directions as best as he could, though he could hear some kids snickering about `geezers' and maps as he made his way through the streets. His face tinged pink, but he did his best to ignore it. It wasn't his fault! He'd have loved to get a cellphone, especially now. He could see so many people with them, and his fingers had that telltale tingle of itching to grab something... Stifling a grunt, he folded up the map once he got to the storefront and headed inside.
``Oooh what a cutie!'' he immediately tensed at the sound of a higher pitched voice, but tried to keep his cool as he was approached. ``Welcome to the Starlight Emporium, how can we make you shine today~?'' Oh gods, he really didn't want to deal with some crazy clerk trying to make him try on this and that!
``Oh, just' window shoppin' fer now, m'lady~'' he managed to reply back with his smooth tone. ``These threads might look good but they don't feel good, y'know? Jus' wanna see what my options are if my ma' lets me poke in th' budget.''
He could see the female clerk actually pause, taking him in more while she pursed her lips. There were other girls, and he could see a couple guys as well, looking over his way, perhaps wondering what sort of `street punk' would be interested in a boutique of their level. Which he couldn't blame them, really. When he dropped the `royal' dialect, it was hard for people to know he was really a prince! He half-wondered if he could ever get into espionage like this...
``Hrm... You got such bright green fur, you definitely would benefit from neutrals. That white really works you wonders... But then you got those charcoal eyes, definitely needs some dark accents to make them pop. But white and black... mmmh...'' she was walking around him now, as if trying to gauge his looks, which really surprised him. He thought for sure she'd drag him to the more `fancy' section just by the shirt he had on now! But she was really eyeballing his entire look! ``Got a favorite color? We definitely need something more you to stand out.''
His... favorite color? That was honestly a question he hadn't considered in some time... If they'd asked him ten years ago he'd have said orange, like the color of his vest or his old sneakers. But he had sort of fallen out of sorts with it as of late. He was so used to the yellow, gray, and gold, and damn did it work a lot better on his sister with her vibrant pink hair than it did on him.
He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't realize he was muttering out loud, and the girl snapped to attention. ``Pink!''
``Huh? Was I... was I speakin' out loud?'' His face pinked considerably, looking off to the side. Damn, he thought he was doing better than that! The guilt must have shown on his face, as the stylist took his hand, a touch of concern on her face.
``Hey, it's okay, lots of cute guys like pink, handsome.''
``Ah-eh-no... I... I failed m' royal etiquette class twice fer voicin' thoughts out loud wit'out bein' prompted... It's called `brutish' n' `disruptive' cuz `a prince thinks eloquently and only speaks the necessary words.''' He puffed a breath through his nose as he scathingly mocked his instructor's words, shaking his head. ``A-Anyways, white with pink or red or orange accents, I guess? Anythin' but gold.''
Something must have struck, as before he knew it he was being tugged right along, the stylist moving like a woman on a mission. They must have passed several booths before he was taken to what looked like a vanity, and promptly invited to sit.
``You take those off and just take a seat right here, cutie. We'll set you up!''
``B-But I don't - '' He had no spending money to do anything! What was he being roped into now?
``Don't worry about that,'' she quickly interrupted him, making him freeze. Gods, she looked actually pissed, but strangely not at him... ``We're gonna do a color matching catalog and makeup session, on the house! You don't need to be in that kind of funk!''
Unable to retort her determination, Manic undid the buttons of his shirt and slid off his pants, before parting with his gloves, making sure they were stashed neatly in the basket of the vanity. Damn, he must have sounded a lot angrier than he thought, if she was that eager to make him shed the royal clothes and everything. And if he was getting fashion advice?
``Well fuck, uh, okay...?'' he wasn't sure if he should feel flattered or not. On one hand, he didn't really like being waited on. But at the same time, he was being given free advice to feel more... normal? He waited patiently in the seat while she started grabbing random things, one of which looked like a huge swath of fabrics on a ring, like he'd seen once at a furniture outlet. The other looked like paint swatches, but they didn't really seem to make sense to him... But once he was facing the mirror, she started flipping through colors, placing each one against his chest. He'd never seen anything like this before...
She would make comments on how the light reflected from his fur onto the clothes and vice versa, and he got to watch in real time as each color was compared against his actual frame. He'd never gotten this... personalized advice before. Everything back home was so cookie cutter and traditional...
By the time she finished, she marked a handful of colors off, picking white, grays, black, and a couple darker shades of orange as well as pink.
``Normally, with neon fur we like to go with lighter complements. But light orange is a color we try to avoid with lighter skin tone, so...'' she remarked before holding the pink against him again. Manic actually bit back a noise of shock as he saw how well it really did against him. And dare he say... maybe pink was becoming a favorite... ``What do you think, hun?''
``Oh, uh... I def like th' pink, but maybe stick wit'at as accent?'' he floundered a bit, as he really was not used to giving his input. At the nod, she started pulling ribbons and ties, placing black and pink in various spots as she made various marks. He could hear her going on about how the pink would be used more, but black would definitely need to go somewhere to balance out the brightness of his body. Inwardly, though, he was just stunned he was learning more about what worked with his body in a few minutes than he'd heard in years. Then again, he'd never had the chance to ask...
``So, handsome, tell me, you ever try doing your nails?''
Manic looked at his fingernails as a memory came to him, one he'd long forgotten - though it went through his head in seconds, it really took him back...
--
``C'mon, Sonia! You know I hate sitting still...!'' Sonic whined loudly as his foot tapped rapidly against the floor of the van. His arm was locked in his sister's vicegrip of a hold while she set about with a small brush.
``If you'd quit squirming, I'd be done already!'' she bit back, yanking him back again as he'd wiggled away. She was - as it were - in the midst of painting Sonic's nails with a silvery nail polish. Sonia had admitted to missing her `girls' parties' and, while Sonic had been less enthusiastic, they'd agreed to do `girly' things with her for a change. It seemed Sonic was now regretting that, at least a bit. Not Manic though.
``That's so uncool, sis! Boys don't paint their nails like that!'' he tried to argue, while Manic was left in hysterics. Even though his siblings had said he sounded like a bleating goat, it didn't change the fact he found this amusing as hell. Sonia had already finished his nails with the same silver, glittery color. He was admiring his own nails, how they shone just like his spiked bracelets.
``You didn't complain about dressing like a belly dancer, but you want to cry about some paint on your nails?'' Sonia rose an eye-ridge at their brother, causing the blue hedgehog to get red in the cheeks.
``Haw! Busted, bro!'' Manic cackled, looking curiously. ``But really, it looks good on ya! I think ya an' me could really rock a girl's dress up sesh!''
Sonic's face was caught between incredulous and curious, as they knew Manic wasn't one for flattery. He'd actually meant it, and it really fried the speedster's brain. Sonia's giggles followed suit, though, and soon they were back to bantering. And it had been one hell of a good time, even if Sonic would never admit it.
---
``My sister did m' nails fer me back when we were kids, yeah,'' he answered, the fond memory both warming and sad at the same time. Gods, sometimes he wished that was still his life. Being with his siblings, fighting robots, and just... goofing around. When was the last time he was in his sister's room for anything but needing help with something he was stuck on?
``Let's see what we got here...'' The set of paint swatches was being compared to his fingers and toes while she flipped. ``You always go barefoot or - ''
``I'd love t'!'' he found himself blurting out before he dialed it back. ``I mean, I don't really get th' chance t' be barefoot outside th' castle... I figured keepin m' shoes off would help me be more... approachable?'' he waved a hand. ``It's cold as hell righ' now but I don't wanna stop, until I gotta go back t' Mobotropolis.''
``Hrmm...'' Her tone was pleasantly neutral while she flipped through, until she marked off her list. ``Well, in the meantime... how about we take give those nails some sleek black finish?'' A single color was pulled out, and just like when Sonia did it, he eagerly stayed still and gave an emphatic nod. ``You must have a really good stylist at the castle. Did you get work done before you came here?''
``Uh, a bit... m' hands got done before I left, an' my assistant gave me a pedicure t'is mornin.''' Even back then they'd never done their toes, so this was... definitely something else. But as she worked, he found himself enjoying the feeling and look a lot more than he thought. He actually felt spoiled, like he was getting attention for his own sake rather than just making for a good appearance. When she finished, he couldn't help but admire the sheen. The black really worked well on his colors, and it felt... right.
It was only when he was handed a tissue he realized he'd actually started crying, and his face burned. Damn, was he really gonna be a baby about this?
``It's okay, handsome,'' her voice was chipper but understanding, not at all shaming him. ``You definitely need this.'' Whether that was the makeover or the fact he was getting emotional, he didn't know, but he dabbed at his eyes for a few minutes. ``Sometimes a makeover really shows you what you're missing.''
``...Huh... y-yeah, guess so!'' he managed. Who'd have thought his first venture would get him into this? He'd expected to be turned away at the claim of window shopping, but he was given a free nail painting and now had a list of colors he could wear... Once everything dried, he was given a booklet with various marked sections, and it seemed word had spread as more people were walking by and gesturing to him. Who would have thought `Prince Manic' would be getting a fashion consultation?
---
After a few more discussions, Manic left the boutique feeling almost like a feather. Sure, he didn't get anything to replace the clothes he had on, but he got a really cute pink ascot to offset things, and he loved the feel of the fabric in his fingers. She'd wanted to give him some mascara, but with how emotional he'd been, it would have just gotten messy, and he had to laugh a bit at that. His gloves were currently in his pockets so he wasn't covering his polish, and he started to wonder if he should get fingerless ones.
He did get to look at some of their wares, though, and boy was there a lot! He'd never seen so many options when it came to white and pink, including some really cozy looking leggings that he'd have loved - but they were far too beyond his price range, and there was no `royal discount' for their products. The fact the consultation was free was still a shock. It really must have showed how much he detested his castle life...
``Gods, I need t' be more in control o' m'self...'' He didn't want to slip back into old habits that he'd need to repress all over again.
``Who says?''
The familiar voice at first sent a shiver down his spine, but then a soft heat, and he whipped around. ``Eggman! Uh, hey! What brings ya out this way?''
Apparently his slight change had gotten the human's attention, as he could clearly see Eggman's head move up and down ever so slightly before he responded. ``I-uh, ahem, I was on my way to the dry cleaners to pick up one of my bodysuits...'' Was it just him or did Eggman sound a bit... distracted? Naw, couldn't be. ``What about you?'' Eggman seemed eager to keep moving, so Manic followed, his eyes trailing to those exposed soles leading the way.
``I was window shoppin', well... started t', but I musta said som'm tha' got th' stylist in a real mood... Got free color consultation n' my nails done up. Woulda got mascara too if I wasn't cryin' like a bitch ovah makeup n' nostalgia,'' he gave a little half-amused sigh. ``If I can find som'm cheap I wanna get outta these clothes...'' Eggman was oddly silent as he went over the experience, but he didn't mind, aimlessly following. He really had nothing better to do, unless he wanted to continue window shopping... ``Ya alright?''
``I'm fine. Question is, are you?'' It was hard for Manic to know what Eggman was thinking, being as he was busy staring at the man's backside and feet, but he had to pause.
``Oh, yeah, I'm feelin' real good after tha' whole thing!'' That had really been a booster to his mood. ``...If yer askin' bout th' cryin' part, I was just rememberin' a time we did a `girls night' wit' Sonia back then.'' He hoped he didn't look like some unstable fuck in front of Eggman, gods that'd be awful. Especially considering their last conversation. ``I uh... I owe ya an apology too.''
``No you don't,'' this time, Eggman did turn around, and Manic felt the instinctive urge to flinch race up his spine.
``Y-Yeah I do!'' he shot back, clenching his fists and glaring back as he stepped up. ``I was such a bitch runnin' away like that! Felt like... like my brain just pretended I was seven years old again... Ya had t' fuckin' carry me n' get me a ride back cuz I couldn't - ''
``No, Manic,'' Eggman's voice had a firm edge, but there was something strangely comforting about it that made him pause. ``Your reaction was perfectly normal for the circumstances. I'm not going to sugarcoat it; you had a messed up childhood because of me. Trauma responses like that aren't out of the ordinary. I only chased after you because you weren't dressed properly for the weather and I didn't want you getting frostbite on your feet.''
Okay, now that was a statement he never expected to hear. It was... expected? His arms relaxed and he stared at the human in disbelief.
``...I... are you fer real right now?'' So much of his attitude was considered abnormal and un-princely, so to hear otherwise was almost foreign to him. ``What about any o'is is `perfectly normal?' I'm constantly playin' both sides o' Prince n' th' Pauper cuz I lived on th' streets fer ten years, n' now here I am standin' barefoot in winter jus' t' talk with folks, one o' which is a fuckin' ex-dictator I haven't seen in fifteen years!'' His fingers were practically tangled now in his ascot as his mind bounced. ``...Ugh, I'm doin' it again. Fuckin' nervous tic - gah!''
To his shock and unintended arousal, Eggman actually picked him up bridal style, and he felt his brain short-circuit. A big... warm... muscular human... carrying him... but it was Eggman... but... he was right up against that chest!
``H-h-haaah...''
``Don't let the blood rush out of your head that easily,'' Eggman remarked with a half-grin. ``There's clearly more on your mind. There's a hotel I've been renting myself when I can. Let me take you there.''
Just like that, Manic felt himself being carted off, but despite the ridiculous circumstance, he couldn't dare say he was protesting. Maybe he could finally get some of his own questions sorted out... If he could actually keep focus. As it was, feeling the strong heartbeat so close was making him want to lean into it. He wasn't sure how to describe this new feeling. Part of his brain urged him to be put down, but another wanted to take comfort in how... protected he felt. It was almost like Eggman's arms could shield him from everything...
