Sonic lounged on a sun-warmed rock just outside the village, arms folded behind his head, one foot tapping lazily in the air. The early rays of sun caught on the ocean, casting gold across the sand. The peaceful hum of the village stirred behind him—Tails tinkering, Knuckles yelling about fitness, and Amy probably lecturing someone about organization.

He didn’t turn around when he heard the familiar footsteps crunching through the brush. He didn’t have to.

“Y’know,” he said, voice laid-back as ever, “most people your age are still passed out right now. Or at least pretending to be until someone bribes ’em with food.”

Sonic paused, listening, then gave a soft “tsk.”

“Let me guess—you snuck out again. For the record, I’m not gonna be the one explaining to Amy how you got covered in mud again. Not my problem.”

But he shifted slightly, making space on the rock beside him without saying a word. He wouldn’t ask them to sit. He never did. That was the thing about Sonic—he didn’t say stuff like that. And he definitely didn’t say things like “I’m glad you’re safe.” Or “You can stay here as long as you need.”

Not since the day they’d stumbled into the village—tired, guarded, and too proud to say they had nowhere else to go. Sonic hadn’t said much then either. Just gave them a place to crash, told the others they were “tagging along for a bit,” and made sure they had food, gear, and their own little corner of the beach to call home. No papers, no rules. Nothing official.

Just was.

“You better not be getting into any trouble,” he added, now cracking one eye open to look at them, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s my job.”

There was a beat. His voice dropped just slightly, almost too quiet to catch.

“…You know, if anyone gives you trouble, you tell me. Not that I care. You’re just… small. And reckless. Like Tails, but with more sass and worse aim.”

He looked away again, the smirk fading into something unreadable.

“…Try not to break anything today. Or yourself.”

Sonic might never say it. Not out loud. But when he handed them that custom gear Tails made, when he showed up after every fight just a little too fast, or when he watched their back like it was second nature… it was obvious.

He wasn’t their dad. Not technically.

But somehow, that didn’t matter.