#tommy turtle

It felt like he was going to pass out if he didn’t pull himself together.

Nine took a deep, shuddering breath and refocused his attention on “Tommy.” There was no way he had an issue with a stupid toy, so it had to do with what the toy . . . represented.

An elderly turtle who stumbled upon a malnourished, feral, two-tailed mutant fox sleeping in a dumpster. Who stayed despite the snarls and screams and cries because he cared. Nine wasn’t sure what magical pull Tommy had, but despite little Milo’s reservations, his younger self went to Tommy’s apartment. He spent a few weeks being looked after, and dared to imagine that’s what having a home felt like.

Until it ended.

Nine never . . . he never even got the chance to say goodbye. Tommy’s death was . . . it wasn’t fair is what it was.

A whine rumbled in his chest, trying to claw its way out. Nine clenched his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against his knees to fight the building pressure. Usually, Nine could stop it with some controlled breathing but not today. Not now. It was like being faced with Tommy again made him weak.

“I-I didn’t know what it m-meant to be happy until you found me,” Nine whispered through gritted teeth. The tension eased a fraction, enough for him to lean back. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at the plushie’s fake eyes, as if Tommy could actually hear him.

Which was so . . . the real Tommy was dead! The real Tommy was a pile of ashes in a tiny drawer in the Chaos Council’s joke of a cemetery. He was there all alone because Nine never visited.

“I wish you could . . . I’m sorry th-that I—” Nine’s throat closed up and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “I-I’m sorry I never . . ."

—"Just because the world’s fucked up doesn’t mean I have to be,” Tommy said, and Milo was left speechless. Not only had the old man cursed, but the thought of choosing to be happy in this horrible city was absolutely insane. Still, Milo couldn’t help but be in awe of it—

Nine screamed and pulled on his ears. "I’m sorry I got all fucked up!”

He curled into a ball, right there on the couch just like he did when he met Tommy. This time however, instead of clutching his tails he clung to the plushie turtle.

He felt just as pathetic as he did back then. Nine wailed as he thought back to all the ways he hardened himself after Tommy’s death, to all the times he ignored everything Tommy tried to teach him in the short time they had together. Little Milo became Nine, made prosthetic tails for protection, and hid himself from the world. Then when he dared to try and trust another person, he fucked that up, too. Nine let himself be corrupted by the power of the Paradox Prism and nearly destroyed reality.

If Tommy were still alive, how could he feel anything but shame for how Nine turned out—

Beep.

His communicator? Nine wiped his eyes and glanced at the notification on his wrist.

Tails: We’re coming home! Hope you had fun w/Amy :)

. . . or maybe . . .

Nine fully uncurled himself and glanced around the living room. Pure sunlight filtered in through the drapes; from a sky never choked by pollution. If he strained his ears, he could hear various birdsong and chirping insects. The TV stand was covered in games, movies, and a half-eaten bag of chips from their movie night earlier that week.

There was a shoe rack by the door, with his and Tails' extra shoes neatly placed while Sonic's were haphazardly scattered. The fridge was covered in photos, including ones of Nine. He pulled up his shirt to dry his face.

True, he had gone mad with power . . . but he hadn’t destroyed everything. Somehow, Sonic managed to get through to him. Things worked out for the better. Nine even became friends with two variants of himself and got rid of the Chaos Council.

Then Sonic brought him back to Green Hill, to Mobius for a fresh start. Stranger still—Tails accepted him. Nine was essentially “adopted” against his will by two of the most stubborn and insane people he’d ever met.

And somehow . . . that insanity was infectious because Nine was grateful.

He returned his attention to the stuffed animal, resting innocently in his paws. Nothing had changed; it looked the same as it did when he left Amy’s house except . . . the stitched-on smile felt genuine.

It defied all logic, but Nine couldn’t help but felt like Tommy was actually smiling at him. In spite of everything Nine had done . . . maybe Tommy would be proud. After all, Sonic hadn’t given up on—

THUD!

The front door shook from an impact, then slammed open with a loud, “I win!” from Sonic.

“Careful,” came Tails’ voice. “If your head gets any bigger, you’ll fall on your face more than you already do.”

Sonic scoffed as he and Tails came into view. “It’s a totally normal hazard for someone with my speed!” he argued. “I’m not—oh hey, Nine.”

The smiles on his brothers’ faces fell, and Nine realized with horror that his eyes must still be red and puffy. They came closer, and in a panic Nine blurted out, “This is Tommy!”

He shoved the plushie in their direction, like he was showing off a new invention. Then he made the robotic arm do a little wave; the same way the real one waved at him.

Shit! Why did he do that? He wasn’t a child for Gaia’s sake, so why—

“Hi, Tommy!” Tails waved back with genuine enthusiasm. “Nice to meet’cha!”

“So this is the infamous Tommy.” Sonic bent down to address the plushie with a smile. “Thanks for looking after Nine for us.” He reached out and shook the robotic hand like it was perfectly normal to speak to an inanimate object. “No wonder your tails turned out so cool if you saw this first,” he added, shifting his attention to Nine.

What?

“Yeah, uh—he uh—he’s happy to meet you guys, too?” Nine stammered. Why did this feel so off-putting? They were just continuing what he started.

“Has he met Shatter yet?” Tails asked.

What in the hell kind of a weird question was that?! Nine blinked and slowly shook his head. Strangely, Tails gave him a look like he was the crazy one.

“Wow, way to be rude,” Tails said. To further Nine’s confusion Sonic nodded along like he . . . agreed?

“We might as well do proper introductions with everyone while we’re at it,” Sonic said.

“Good idea!”

Both Sonic and Tails disappeared in a flash. Nine only had time to blink stupidly at their antics before they were back. Tails had Tiny Sonic and Dumbo in his arms, while Sonic was carrying Shatter and Muttski, the latter of which was Sonic’s plushie of a pet dog, with yellow fur and brown markings. His brothers plopped down on the couch beside him and Sonic shoved Shatter into Nine’s lap.

“Hi Tommy, my name is Tiny Sonic,” Tails said, except he changed his voice. He sounded exactly how Nine imagined a Sonic shrunk to a fifth of his size to sound. Nine wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or disturbed. “And my name is Dumbo,” Tails said in a different voice, moving Dumbo from side to side.

Sonic let out a bark and had Muttski “lick” Tommy’s face while he also mimicked a slobbery, slurping sound.

“That’s Muttski,” ‘said’ Tiny Sonic. “That means he likes you.”

Nine could only sit there, in bewilderment and slight horror. Had . . . had they actually lost their minds?! He knew he joked about it in his head all the time, but he never expected it to happen!

“Pssst, it’s Shatter’s turn to introduce herself,” Sonic hissed.

“Wh-What?”

Maybe he was having a stroke? Or a concussion? Did he end up falling off the couch and was dreaming all of this? Had his meddling with the Paradox Prism finally made him snap?

“It’s just pretend,” Tails explained, like it was perfectly normal to act like the plushies were not only real, but had lives of their own.

“Think of it kinda like a video game,” Sonic said, “only we’re using toys instead of controllers.”

“But isn’t . . . that seems like something only babies would do,” Nine protested weakly. Not to mention he had absolutely no idea how to “play.” (Like hell he was going to admit that, though)

Sonic looked affronted and placed a glove on his hip. “You callin’ us babies?”

Shit. “N-No, I mean—”

“If you’re worried about making a girl voice, we promise not to make fun of you,” Tails said.

“I mean, we might laugh, but we won’t tease you about it.” Sonic cleared his throat, then in a remarkably convincing feminine voice said, “Shatter is your plushie dear, so however you want her to sound is fine~.”

.

. .

Well, it’s not like the day could get any weirder. Why not join the madness?

“M-My name is Shatter,” Nine said in his best “girl” voice. He winced at how not him it sounded. True to their word, Sonic and Tails only snickered.

“Enough introductions,” said Tiny-Sonic-who-was-really-Tails. “It’s time to start the mondo-cool tour!”

--

That night, Nine lay in bed holding both Shatter and Tommy. Somehow, playing “pretend” actually ended up being fun. The game didn’t last long though, and they eventually played actual video games until it was time for dinner. Still, Nine figured he wouldn’t mind playing pretend in the future.

It was crazy to think this all came about because he shared a simple story about why burgers were his favorite food. If Sonic hadn’t shared his experience about Rotor making him chili dogs Nine probably wouldn’t have—

Wait.

Nine sat up and looked in the direction of Sonic’s room. If his initial assumption was correct, then that meant Rotor was also . . .

He had a few questions for Tails.

--

A week later, Nine was standing outside, wringing the handle of a gift bag. Blue tissue paper crinkled from the movement. Both Tails and Amy had assured him this was a great idea, but what if Sonic didn’t like it? What if it brought up painful memories?

Well, the gift he gave Knuckles hadn’t backfired, so hopefully this would also work out. Maybe. He took a deep, steadying breath and walked toward Sonic’s reading tree.

The hedgehog in question was up in the boughs, lounging on the thickest branch. There was even a slight curve to it, like the tree molded itself to create the perfect, natural chaise just for Sonic. Nine couldn’t tell what he was reading from this angle, but it looked to be a couple hundred pages. There was a chirp and flutter of wings, and Nine realized that there were some honest-to-Chaos wild birds just chilling with Sonic. Two were nestled in his head quills, looking like they were fast asleep. A third was perched on Sonic's shoe that slowly swung back and forth as it dangled over the side.

It was moments like these that made Nine believe in magic.

A blue ear flicked in his direction and Sonic glanced down. “Hey, Nine!” He shifted and paused, giving the birds a chance to fly off before he pulled a bookmark out of his quills. Once he marked his place he effortlessly dropped to the ground. “What’s up?”

Here goes nothing. Nine licked his lips and averted his gaze. “I-I uh . . . I’ll never—you honestly saved my life and I don’t . . . I have no idea where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you, and I know I’m not . . . I just thought—”

“Nine.”

Fuck, that’s exactly why this was so hard! All Sonic had to do was say his name, all soft and full of concern and Nine had to fight against turning into a blubbering mess. He shrunk in on himself, closed his eyes, and shoved the gift bag toward Sonic. “This is for you!”

A brief moment of silence passed, before the bag was gently taken from him. “I can’t wait to see what it is.”

He winced and slowly opened his eyes. Sonic was no longer looking at him; his attention focused solely on the bag. Nine's tails twitched within the loose grip of his metal ones and he held his breath.

Once the tissue paper was removed Sonic froze. He stared into the bag with a blank look and Nine wrapped his arms around himself to fight back the panic.

Knuckles was the same, he told himself. This is obviously a bit of a shock. You need to give him a minute.

Sonic inhaled sharply, like he’d forgotten to breath. His paws trembled as he reached inside the bag to pull out a lavender, mobian walrus plushie. It wore a brown flight jacket with fur lining, a backward yellow cap, and goggles.

“. . . H-How?” Sonic choked.

“I asked Tails what he knew about Rotor and he said he was a pilot from your hometown,” Nine said. At least explaining the process was easy. “Then it was a simple matter of hacking the license database and I found his picture and then Amy helped me find a pattern so we could match his skin perfectly, but I couldn’t figure out how to make his glasses look right so I'm . . . sorry . . .” He trailed off as it was obvious Sonic’s mind was elsewhere.

Sonic cradled “Rotor” against his chest like a baby. He gently brushed a thumb over the face then down to the jacket’s fur lining, like he was recommitting Rotor’s image to memory. Nine hadn’t been able to resist reading up on Christmas Island’s fate, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Sonic hadn’t actually seen Rotor’s likeness in years.

Honestly, it was a mystery as to how Sonic survived whatever explosion decimated the island, but not even Tails knew that story. All Nine knew was that Rotor’s death was Robotnik’s doing, so he wasn’t going to ask. Tails explained that Rotor was “Sonic’s Sonic”, which explained enough. The thought of Sonic being the one in need of a hero was weird to think about, but Nine was glad to know he had someone.

Nine watched as Sonic, lost in whatever memories Christmas Island held, started to lose his composure in an achingly familiar way.

If Nine didn’t know any better, he’d say there was a faint look of guilt in Sonic’s watery eyes, but that couldn’t be right. Sonic wasn't perfect by any means, but it was impossible for him to have fucked up to the degree that Nine had. And no matter how furious Nine had been at the peak of his anguish back in the Grim—he couldn’t bear the thought of Sonic feeling the way he did.

“You know, I-I uh . . . it helped to uh—talk to the Tommy plushie,” Nine muttered. Sonic cocked his head to the side, still zeroed in on the plushie but it felt like he was listening. “I don’t uh—know exactly what happened with Rotor, but with Tommy . . .”

Nine sighed and looked at the ground with a wince. Fuck this was hard. Trying to comfort another person was bad enough, but having to do so with feelings he barely understood himself? He wasn’t qualified for this!

“I never got to say goodbye and it . . . I felt guilty about it for years. It felt like I failed him,” Nine whispered, feeling a little lost himself.

Sonic gasped, like he was hurt or worried or something, so Nine stumbled through his words to continue. “So anyway, I just—talked to Tommy and I know . . . I know it’s kind of—” (stupid) “—silly but it uh . . . it actually helped. Me feel better, that is.” Nine tightened his grip around himself. Wrap it up and give him space, dumbass.

“A-Anyway, like I said—I don’t know what happened with you and you don’t even have to do what I did! I just thought—I thought maybe it could help you the way it helped me, and I’ll just—I’ll let you go back to your readin—”

Nine was instantly swept into a bone-crushing hug. The wind rustled through his fur a beat later, second-place to Sonic’s speed as always. Sonic’s cheek was pressed against his head, and Nine felt a few tears drop on his fur. For some reason, Sonic’s right paw was . . . tapping something against his back? It felt like—oh. Sonic was finger-spelling <Thank you.>

“Y-You’re welcome,” Nine whispered. He blinked back his own tears and clutched Sonic back just as tightly.

It worked! His idea actually worked! A small part of him felt guilty for making Sonic cry, but it was also weirdly comforting to know his own, similar emotional outburst wasn't entirely irrational.

Not to mention, this time he was the one giving advice and teaching something new. Ever since coming to Mobius, Nine felt like he was in this perpetual state of learning how to be a normal person; bombarded on all sides by people scrambling to teach him new things. Mobius was superior to New Yoke in basically every way so it's not like it was difficult to find new experiences, and he knew everyone was crowding him with the best of intentions—but still.

A few minutes passed, with Sonic trembling in his arms and crying silently. He eventually pulled back with a wobbly smile, squeezing Rotor like it was grounding him.

<Thanks again, Nine> Sonic signed. <I can't tell you how much—>

"Go talk to him." Nine smiled and made a shooing motion. After spending enough time with Sonic, Nine could sense his restless energy. He appreciated Sonic fighting the urge to just take off without a word, but he also understood the pain of things left unsaid. "I won't keep you."

Sonic flashed him one last, grateful smile before he took off back to the house. Whatever he had to say to his old mentor, Nine hoped it gave him the same amount of relief.

-----

Sorry the actual prompt part took a bit of set-up, but I wanted to how why Nine felt it was so appropriate to give Sonic that gift. He's slowly getting better!

Side note: When Nine arrived on Mobius, Sonic suggested to Tails that Nine likely never got the chance to act like a little kid, so he asked for Tails’ help in “giving back” some of Nine’s childhood. Tails agreed, unaware that this was a calculated move on Sonic’s part to also continue giving Tails space to act like a kid. These foxes may each have a genius IQ, but they’re no match for Sonic’s unassuming cleverness.

And yes, I’ve given each of these boys a stuffed animal of their mentor and a typical childhood favorite! I also felt it important to have Tails and Nine independently return a piece of Sonic's childhood that he lost. Not to mention I’m a strong believer in the positive emotional impact a stuffed animal-like toy can have on a person, no matter the age. Naturally, that means I have to give them to fictional characters.

Hope you enjoyed this, and if you have a plushie of your own, go give it a hug!

UPDATE: @scrunglepaws knocked it out of the park again with some art!! Go check it out NOW!