"Hellooooo?"

A certain cube-headed robot had returned to the scrap room, unbeknownst to his boss or buddy.

After opening the door with much difficulty (All of the doors had been made to fit Dr. Eggman's size, a man that was about 9 ft. tall.) He peeked in to find the same scene as earlier. It had been a few hours since the last time he'd been here, but he just couldn't push the persistent curiosity that constantly lingered in his mind away. He wanted to know more.

How he thought going back to a room full of dead robots was going to help; only he knew.

One reason that was obvious was that the boss was more than ticked with the poor robot and had once again smacked him up-side the head, resulting in yet another voice swap. It was now annoyingly high-pitched, and never failing to ramble about every one of his thoughts that popped into his scattered brain.

Cubot approached the two robots from earlier, clicking his fingers together, "You know, you guys gotta brighten up! It's WAY too quiet and sad in here! What's with the long faces? I'll cheer you up, promise!"

Crawling up the pile of scrap parts beside them, he was eventually perched right over their heads. He felt great! He felt superior! ...He felt like he had to focus. Dropping the wildly wonderful thought of being the tallest machine in the world (The King of Stuff), he began to prod and poke at the two below him.

"I know what my buddy, Orbot said about activating you two, but I just can't help it! You guys've been off way too long. I need a few more friends who can help me collect my stuff! Did I tell you about my stuff? I got all kinds of it! Fat stuff, short stuff, long stuff, curly stuff…"

And thus chattering about things that the deactivated badniks could care less about, nonetheless hear, Cubot continued with his search for their activation system. He himself was built with a small flap on the back of his head that had a few wires and a button; press the button and he was off. Press it again and he was on. It was very simple, just like his personality.

Eventually prying open the top of the humanoid chicken's head, he noticed the switch, which he wasn't very familiar with. Still, his curiosity got the best of him and he yanked it towards himself eagerly, and then turned to the fat green robot when he heard the old mechanics slowly starting up. Squeaking and grinding filled the room (over the sound of Cubot's rambling) as gears broke free from the rust that had been holding them for so many years and began to turn on their own.

"Aeeergh…" The chicken pulled a stiff arm up to his head to rub at it dizzily, "Wh…where am I…?"

Cubot took a moment to do the same to the other badnik before jumping down in front of them; arms spread wide, "You're in Robotnik's base with me! Don't worry; I'll take care of you! I like new friends!"

"Robotnik…?" The green one groaned, still in a tired, slow stupor.

"That's what I said! Now, tell me your names! I wanna know."

"Scr-Scraaatch…" Scratch said thoughtfully, glancing down at his brother, who, with a horrible crunch, stretched himself out.

"I'm Grounder…I think." Grounder muttered, beginning to snap out of it and check around himself. He rolled forward, causing Scratch to fall flat on his face.

The bird moaned, "Grounder, you sap! I was leaning on you…"

"Oops, sorry!" Both of their heads snapped down to the yellow robot who was now laughing uncontrollably.

"Hoo-hoo! Haha, you guys are great! I've never not regretted a decision like this before!" Cubot was startled when Scratch, who had been slowly getting up, suddenly crouched all the way down to look at him closely.

"And just WHO are you?" Scratch growled, "I don't remember you-you…" His eyes widened as memories started to re-flood his head like a painful river.

'You and Grounder have served your purpose; I need new robots that can handle more.'

He winced and slowly stood up again, baring his teeth only slightly. This little bot must be one of their replacements…he had to hand it to the boss, though. The designs of his mechanics had sure come a ways.

"Well, uh…how long's it been?"

Cubot, who had been admiring a fleck of sludgy dirt, jolted his head up, "Huh?"

Scratch cleared his throat; as if it would do his voice any good, "How long have we been, y'know…gone?"

"Not sure. My buddy said over a decade, though!"

An audible groan sounded from both of the poor bots, "We hafta get outta here…" Grounder whined, looking up at his brother, who nodded hesitantly.

"Yeah, we kinda do. Well, thanks, I guess."

Cubot seemed utterly distressed, "You're leaving?!"

Scratch nodded, "Well, yeah! Robotnik threw us out! What else are we 'suppost to do? We can't stay."

"B-but I need more friends! I gotta collection of friends, and you guys'd be the prize! Promise!"

Grounder smiled, "Gee, that sounds real nice, don't'chya think, Scratch?"

The tall robot moaned, "No. We have to go!" With a swipe one of his large feet, he kicked Cubot out of his way and hustled for the door, "C'mon, Grounder, let's go!"

Although thinking that that action had been 'really mean', the pudgy badnik followed his brother excitedly. They were both not only eager to get moving and use their rusted parts, but to leave before they were discovered.

True, there was nothing more either would like more than to grovel at their master's feet and on any other occasion of reactivation they would, but something pressed into Scratch's mind, and it wouldn't let up.

'It's taken me years to realize that your uselessness outweighs your usefulness by far.'

He had known that his master was evil. Heck, so was he! He had been naturally made that way…but the way that Robotnik had presented their fate with such cruelty disturbed Scratch a fair bit.

He briefly wondered if he had completely blown a piston. Why didn't he feel that urge to serve and protect the Doctor? Why was he so concerned with his own life? What had gone wrong?

"Hey!" He whipped around to glare at Grounder, whose tread had caught his heel, "Watch it; that hurts!"

"Well, sorry!" A shrug.

Scratch observed their surroundings, something very un-Scratch of him to do, "Well, if I remember right, the way out is this way!"

"But, why are we trying to leave?"

The rooster turned to stare incredulously at his brother, "I-I thought that that's what we were doing! Leaving the base. Don't you ever listen?"

"Yeah, but…" He twiddled his fingers together nervously before blurting out, "Oh, Scratch! I just can't do it! I wanna find Robotnik and see if he'll take us back."

"Ugh, you idiot, he doesn't want us anymore! That's why we were in that heap in the first place! You think if he wanted us, he's throw us in there?"

It occurred to Scratch how serious Grounder looked as he muttered, "I can't…"

"We-well fine, then! You go do what YOU want to, since you OBVIOUSLY know better than me! Go and get yourself deactivated again…see if I care!"

Before poor Grounder could put another say in, the stubborn chicken stomped away.

….

"Go fish…"

Dr. Eggman tilted his head over his shoulder slightly to glare at Orbot, who was playing a card game with his computer. He had to let out a frustrated sigh. What had become of his robots?

Why weren't his currents bootlickers or shoe-shiners? Why did they have so much free-will? He had to remind himself that he really did know the reason why, but just couldn't think too deeply into the subject. The further he let his private thoughts sink away, the harder they were to access or remember, right? Surely with this intellect and how many things he had on his mind every day.

'GO FISH.' The computer shot back, breaking the genius from his thoughts.

He yet again threw another dirty look at them, which they did not catch, "Hey, I thought you could only play solitaire!" He spat, pointing an accusing finger at the super-computer.

"Oh, we are!" Orbot assured quickly, "But with a twist!"

"I'll give you a twis-"He paused midway from getting up out of his chair when he heard a sound nearby that he wasn't familiar with. But, why did it sound familiar?

Listening for only a moment, he realized that the sound was coming from the doorway, behind him. He also saw the reaction of Orbot, who froze in place, looking just beside his boss' side at whatever it was with a truly terrified expression. He took a deep breath.

In one quick movement, he spun on his heel and yanked from his coat a small plasma pistol, which unfolded quickly to reveal a large barrel; heating up to fry the threat.

But there really was no need for it. In fact, the gun slipped out of its holder's hand a second later and clattered onto the floor, but Eggman didn't really notice. He was too busy staring at the figure before him with a mix of confusion and awe.

The man then reached up and adjusted his glasses, mouth slightly hanging open.

"…Grounder?"