Call me Crise

He broke the silence of their living room with a soft certainty, cuddled into Shadows’ side and draped in a scarf against the chill of the winter storm outside, bags under his eyes a testament to the insomnia that inspired their relaxation on the dark wood and velvet couch. “I had another name you know, besides the two you already know.” Sonic rubbed his thumb against the cup of tea gently steaming in his ungloved hands. The smell of herbs warmed the air joined with the light scraping of claw against ceramic.

“What kind of name?” Shadow was nonpulsed at the reveal of yet another thing his lover had kept so close to his chest. He had long grown accustomed to the seemingly random allowances past the prince’s walls and this tracked with when he would decide to speak up.

So far the things he revealed had been about his royal life, siblings, mother, his duties as an oracle and wielder of magics, sometimes fears and dreams would find their way out. This perhaps was another conversation about the undercover operations of the rebellion of the triplets?

Staring into the lit riverstone fireplace and pulling their blanket just that little bit further up their laps and off the wine red carpet was all Shadow could do to help ward off the hesitation.

“My birth name, the royal name on all my real legal documents is Nicholas Maurice Needlemouse,” a fact that Sonic had been very hesitant to say before their unofficial engagement, “and my chosen name is Sonic after the fact I can break the sound barrier, but there was a time in between where I went by a name my adoptive parents gave me.”

This, this was new. Sonic rarely ever spoke of the time before the rebellion, when he really was just a kid who happened to have the speed of the wind and the ability to taste the rain days before it came.

Instead of saying anything, Shadow let the revelation sit. Counting the sprigs of dried lavender in their vase on the coffee table until Sonic decided he could continue.

“We had just finished dinner. Pa was getting his guitar, the one he taught me on, and Ma was getting her fiddle that she promised to teach me how to play when I got big enough to hold it right.” Shadows' mind drifted to the fiddle and guitar he’d caught glimpses of in the music room just a room to the left of them, both cases singed.

“Ma and Pa were involved in the rebellion in whatever way they could be. Safe housing, information gathering, giving whatever money we could spare without looking suspicious, and gods know what else I didn’t know about.” Sonic took a long sip of tea, his movements stiff and worried. Shadow sipped alongside him, though his own tea was starting to cool, until his curiosity won out against his patience.

“It sounds like they were good people… was it their connections that got you into the rebellion yourself?”

“Ha, nah,” the laugh was forced and curt but the smile was soft, “that was all uncle Chuck. They didn’t want me involved so I could avoid the consequences like they couldn’t.” Sonic’s eyes dimmed a bit, or at least that’s what it looked like, Shadow couldn’t tell if it was magic or the way the dancing fire shadowed his face. “That night it all kinda caught up to them, there was a knock at the door and Ma went to open it, I was a skittish kid back then, I think everyone was, so I hid behind a wall clutching Ma’s fiddle case like it was a toy.”

Shadow was imagining a child the size of Tails hidden poorly behind a doorframe. Though judging by the way Sonic had been curling up, it was likely he was even younger.

“The people outside weren’t people, they were robot cops sent by the local lord, he caught wind of their work and thought getting rid of ‘traitorous rebels’ would earn him favor from Robotnik. Pa told me to run when he realized what was happening and I couldn’t help taking the guitar with me when I saw the flamethrowers.” Gods and Spirits above. Shadow wished he was wrong. That his love wasn’t about to say what he thought he would say.

“I was training in secret by that point, to run faster and carry more, so I tried to grab the little red book Ma and Pa used to keep track of everything. I was too slow getting the planks up from the floor and the book was burned before I could reach it. I still remember the way I choked on the smoke trying not to smell anything.” Another long sip of tea drained Sonic’s cup.

“I didn’t talk for a while after that. Left the instruments with uncle Chuck when I left to stop Eggman from getting a foothold on Christmas Island, then South Island, then joined the rebellion properly to take back the kingdom in the name of my mom.”

“And that was when you chose the name Sonic?” That seemed like the time to Shadow at least, new recruits earning or choosing a code name was how G.U.N did it anyway.