#complete crack

Hagrid: No, that was Buckbeak. This guy's Witherwing.

Ministry: Ohhhhh, okay then.

Sirius: ...

Sirius: *Gets a pair of glasses and strolls into the Ministry*

Ministry: THAT'S SIRIUS BLACK - ARREST HIM -

Sonic needing to go in for a routine procedure because, the more I think about it, kid hasn’t seen a doctor ever, and Maddie’s just thankful he picked up enough social norms to brush his teeth. 

Still - it makes sense that at some point after his move into their home, he’d start wincing and holding his jaw between his hands. 

“C’mere,” Maddie would say, sitting cross legged on the floor. She peeks into his mouth. “Well, honey - I wouldn’t normally say this for an animal, but... I think your wisdom teeth are coming in?” 

“My what?”

“Wisdom teeth,” said Maddie, shrugging. She reached out to hold his shoulders, pressing her hands down to act as a comforting weight. “I had them. So did Tom. Looks like the aliens have them, too. I’ll make an appointment.”

“To do what!”

“Get them out, hon.” He flinched. She squeezed his shoulders again. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. It’s routine.”

Most kids around Sonic’s age do need their wisdom teeth out. And Sonic, from what we’ve seen, does have a set of teeth that look pretty much like any humans teeth. So yeah. He’d probably need them out. 

I bring this up, because I really, really, REALLY want to see post-adopted Sonic after getting his wisdom teeth out. 

And I really, really want to know that Maddie and Tom are the parents who film the whole thing while doing their best not to choke on their own laughter. 

He wakes up groggy. Barely knows what’s going on when he’s wheeled out towards the front of some sliding doors and helped into a car. 

He gains enough lucidity five blocks away from the Green Hills general surgery clinic. Buckled into the back seat, he squints at the two people up front.

“Who’r’youuuu?” He slurs. His mouth is really full. And tingly! Weird. 

The woman in the passenger seat turned around. She took out her phone and pressed record, pointing it at him. “It’s me, Sonic. Maddie.” She pointed to the man driving. “And that’s Tom.”

“Whooo?” He slurped back drool. Not his best moment. Still. A mystery to solve. “Whooo’r’maddie’n’tom?” He slurred, still squinting. 

The woman snorted, steadying the phones camera. “We’re your parents, honey.”

He squinted harder. “P’rents. No. Don’t-don’t got... any a’ those...”

“Yes you do, bud,” said the man. “I’m your dad. That’s your mom. We’re going home, okay? Gonna take a really long nap.”

“Yer my daaaaad?”

“Yeah.”

Sonic drooled again. His eyes widened. Sort of. One of them widened. The other one wouldn’t stop squinting. “I have... a moooom? And a daaaaad?”

“Yeah, honey.”

“Ohhhhhmahgoooood.” He burst into tears. Very noisy, sloppy tears. “I’m so ha-a-appy!”

“That’s great, bud!”

“‘n I don... don’ have to go ba-ack to mah cave?”

“You’re going back to your room. Or the couch, probably, so I can keep an eye on you.”

“I have - a ROOM! Awwww this is the BEST. You g-guys are-thebiiiist.” 

He cried and drooled for a few more minutes. And then he wiped his face with his gloves and smeared both everywhere. “M’so happy!” he said again, his legs kicking up. He stared down at his shoes. “I got feet.”

“You do. You do have feet.”

He glared at his sneakers. “Ugh. Donwan’these.”

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Taken’em’off...” he muttered, fumbling, nearly tumbling to the floor. The seatbelt held him. He tore his shoes off and threw them somewhere in the car. One sock was missing. He stared at his foot. Wiggled his toes. “Got five,” he whispered, pointing at them. Then a shout; “FIVE.” He wiggled them again. Glared. “STOP.” He yelled at them. Teared up. “They’won’STAaaaAAHP!” he whined, beginning to cry again. 

Tom was turning red, doing his best to keep from cackling. Maddie had succumbed to choking back on every single huge laugh. 

He heard them and looked up. “Ooooh! You wannna know a secrettt, lady-mom?”

“Sure, honey.”

“I can go- go realllllly fast.”

“I know that, Sonic.”

“Wanna see?” He screwed up his face and then flailed his arms and legs sluggishly in every direction. Tom pulled over to lean over the steering wheel and laugh until he cried. “Did’ja see? Bet-ya-DIDN’T.” 

“Wowwww! So fast!”

“TOLLLD you,” said Sonic, raising his hand for a high five before slapping himself in the face. Teared up again. Sniffled. Stared at his hand, betrayed. Blinked. His fingers wiggled. “GOT FIVE,” he yelled, smacking himself in the face again by accident trying to count. 

“Please tell me you got all of that,” said Tom when they got home, lifting Sonic out of the back seat (”I CAN FLY NOW TOO? I’M AMAZING!”). 

Maddie waggled her phone with a grin and shoved it back into her pocket. “We’ve got at least a few months of parental blackmail under our belts.”

“Sweet.”

“I can fly on my own let me go.” His arms flung out. He caught sight of his hand. Stared. Showed Maddie, eyes huge. “I GOT FIVE OF ‘EM.” 

"Mother, put them down."

"Absolutely not."

"Even if they've never molted, they're still technically older than I am. What if they find it undignified?"

"I'd imagine they wouldn't have fallen asleep, then."

Herrah held in two arms a little miracle saved from that most heinous discard pile; the smallest ghost of the abyss, who'd evidently come tottering in from the topside cliffs. Their appearance had thrown everyone for a loop. If this one had survived their fall and then left, then there were far, far too many down there for it to be mathematically feasible that they'd been the only one. The Wyrm must be having a conniption, somewhere. Such dizzying implications this little creature brought with them, in the wake of everyone’s old understanding that the vessels would have grown into proper people. Herrah does not envy their parents.

All of that aside, they were just so very tiny. They'd taken to being lifted up with a slack confusion that made her never want to put them down.

Hornet eyed them with nothing but suspicion.

"...I am still not entirely convinced what you're holding is really a child."

"Hollow was this small, once. And you were smaller still. Beyond that, I can't imagine a life of feral struggle out in the wastes was conducive to the sort of development either of you enjoyed."

She still looked as though she were examining something unsavory. "I suppose."

Herrah tutted. "Be nice. I thought you would have adored a younger sibling."

"Not really younger," she quipped under her breath.

"A little sibling, then. Come now. Just look at them."

Hornet gave her a mildly distrusting look, but stepped forward. She leaned in a little, and Herrah brought the child closer, careful not to disturb them.

"It wasn't so long ago when you were this cute," she teased quietly. Her daughter was entirely unamused. 

The little ghost shifted some in her grasp, and Hornet nearly stepped back. She seemed to decide to stand her ground and look, when her little sibling shuffled around to look her in the eye. They sort of stared at each other for a moment. 

"Well? Say hi."

Hornet did not move, and neither did the young vessel. 

They abruptly stood up in her arms, and Hornet startled back with a hiss. They responded by unsheathing the cracked little nail from their cloak and wielding it in her direction. Their sister's cloak flared out, and she hissed at them in earnest. 

Herrah had to catch the child when they tried to leap at her, nail in hand. Hornet skittered back, silk at the ready.

"No-- No! Hornet, behave-- You, hand me the nail. I said hand it to me, or no going down."

The child flailed a moment in Herrah’s arms, exhibiting their displeasure in a brief tantrum that her previous experience with one cranky godling-toddler had more than prepared her to handle. Hornet still stood in battle stance a good 20 paces away.

"Hornet, room. And you," Herrah held out a free hand for the nail. They stared at her dolefully. She was unmoved.