The Black Market is bustling with bodies and noise tonight. It's like every shop and alley is packed full of Mobians. Of fucking course it is. Why wouldn't it be?

Some of them are haggling for items they can't get anywhere, some are trying to sell items, there's even a few prostitutes standing around, flashing legs and cleavage trying to make a quick buck.

Sonic is not interested in any of that, he's not down here in basically the bowels of hell for shits and giggles.

His hood is drawn up over his face, shielding his identity from those milling about around him, his quills tucked neatly into the hood even though a few still spill out of the sides to frame his face.

The Mobians still give the blue and black clad hedgehog a wide berth as he passes, the colors of his outfit giving him away as a part of the Freedom Fighters. It was like being part of a gang, everyone knew the colors of every major player in the city.

But that's not the real reason they give him room and whisper among themselves.

He looks like a dead man walking, he's got a slight limp in his step and he's bleeding profusely.

His hand is pressed firmly against his side, blood seeping through his fingers, soaking his hoodie and coating his gloved hand. “Fuck.” He hisses as he glances down at his hand and presses it more firmly to the wound.

He had forgotten how painful it was to be shot. It hasn't happened in a long time and he was not happy about it.

He takes a few more twists and turns through the market before coming to his younger brother, Manic’s place, he doesn't bother knocking, he barges in through the front door and lets it slam shut behind him.

He makes his way into the back, the green hedgehog is in the middle of talking to someone when Sonic walks into the room. “Hey, Manic, you gotta sec?” The blue hedgehog asks, emerald green eyes peaking out from under the hood, tone nonchalant and casual despite the gaping gunshot wound.

“Oh what the-” Manic lets out a huff of annoyance the second he hears his older brother's voice and looks over at him. His purple gaze flicks over the older male and he rolls his eyes.

“Give me a minute” he says to the Mobian he had been speaking with, to Sonic he replies, “you, get your ass into the other room.”

The second they are in the other room, the door shut tightly behind them, Manic demands answers and Sonic willingly tells him what had gone down. The fight, the way he had gotten a little cocky and was showing off, all to try and steal some stupid tech that Tails had informed him they needed only to take a shot from one of Egg man's enforcers that wasn't even meant for him.

He had taken a bullet for someone he barely knew, who had been after the same tech he had been after, who had stared at him in bewildered shock before bolting.

The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable.

“Congratulations, you have invented a new kind of stupid.” Manic tells him, shaking his head as he helps the blue hedgehog out of his hoodie and compression shirt. “Truly, you didn't think this through kind of stupid.”

Sonic lets out an offended scoff, wincing as he leans back in the chair, “Yeah, yeah. I know.” is his indignant response as he lets his head fall back against the chair.

There's no exit wound, it is a clean shot to a non-lethal area which means Sonic is going to live, Manic just has to get the bullet out and stitch his dumbass brother up.

"Was this mystery person at least hot?" Manic asks as he pulls his goggles down from his quills and over his eyes, snatching a small rolling table and bringing it over next to Sonic.

"You know, I wasn't really looking, I was more focused on them kicking my ass and trying to steal what I was trying to steal. Before you know, I got shot." Sonic explained in a dead pan tone as he watches Manic pull on a pair of gloves.

Silence again, followed quickly by a hissing a noise, the tweezer like instrument digging into Sonic's wound with precision and practiced ease. The bullet clangs against the melt tray and Manic drops the tweezers down too.