Division 1

Sonic moaned and picked up his head. It was late in the afternoon, and he ached all over from being Eggman's literal slave for over a week. It wasn't much, for he had starved and survived far longer times, but it still hurt. He wasn't hungry so much as he was weak and beaten. He could barely crawl without his muscles trembling under what little weight he had! Time, and Eggman, had not been kind to him.

A rustling came in the bushes. Sonic ceased to be any sort of civilized being and became the hunter he rightfully was by birth. He closed his eyes and listened.

The rustling came closer, closer. Sonic knew to move would be fatal, because it would scare off his only source of food. He opened his eyes.

A young, brown rabbit sat before him on its haunches, cleaning its face with its delicate front paws. Sonic the Hedgehog had a great respect for rabbits. Often, he would romp and play with them, and race them, just to see if they could beat him when he knew they couldn't really. He would make friends with the mothers in the spring, and stroke the babies with his forefinger in their burrows.

Sonic the predator had but one thought: lunch. His mind raced as he moved infinitesimally, trying to get his arm out so he would be prepared to clamp it down on the rabbit's back. The rabbit would not be able to retaliate or run, and then the other hand could snap its neck. The rabbit twitched its nose and straightened its ears. Many rabbits knew his scent, and were not afraid. This one did not know his scent and was afraid, but would not live to pass this fear to its children. Somewhere, Sonic the Hedgehog hoped this one was not a mother, and a wave of pity washed over him. But, when his stomach growled softly and his mouth watered for fresh meat…well…all was lost from then on.

His hand lashed out. The rabbit tried to run away, but even weak, Sonic was faster. His hand pressed onto the rabbit's spine. Now rabbits cry like babies, and this one did so now. Sonic did not want to draw attention to himself. With his other hand, he grabbed the rabbit's neck and snapped it. The rabbit struggled uselessly and was still. Sonic hungrily beheaded the dead rabbit and sucked through the creamy, tasty blood to get to the meat within. He devoured the heart and some of the innards before he felt his strength returning. The meat revived him, his muscles becoming stronger than ever, just a small serving of meat doing what five hundred servings of vegetables did.

Sonic the predator's use was gone, and Sonic the Hedgehog came back. Sonic licked the blood from his lips and sat up, satisfied. However, his eyes met with an unkind sight.

Cream the Rabbit stood before him. Her eyes were scared and filled with tears, and she trembled as she looked at him. Without her speaking, he knew that she had seen if not all of his actions, enough of them. And he cursed fate for giving him a rabbit to eat.

Mind you, his face was calm, his eyes bright. He was Sonic, only he still had blood at the tips of his lips, and his white teeth were tinted pink. Everything else was Sonic, but Cream still feared what she had seen, that was definitely not the Sonic she knew.

The hedgehog apologetically reached a hand out. "Cream--" but it was too late for that. Cream cried out and took off into the forest, making her way back much the way she had came. Sonic, forgetting his weakness, stood instantly and ran after her, smelling after her because he didn't know where she went. And, because of the weakness still present in his body, she was faster by two or three steps, but he couldn't see her.

As she weaved her way through the city streets, people wondered who or what she was running from. Sonic had no care for the others, for the crowds she was trying to use to cover her scent (she was smart, she was a prey animal by birth, and she knew what would throw a predator off), but Sonic knew her too well, and now saw where she was headed. "Cream!" He called after her, his voice an injured whimper. "Cream! Please!"

But Cream, if she heard him, refused to stop. She ran and ran, sobbing, her heart beating ever faster in her chest. She was frightened, scared, knew he was gaining on her. Millions of good times, pleasant memories with Sonic were torn to pieces and burned before her eyes as she saw the one image that erased everything good she knew about him.

Sonic devouring something that was, more or less, her kin. The blood on his lips, the violence and hunger in his eyes. She could not imagine being held by such a monster. And now, she had little refuge.

Tails was a fox, and they, too ate rabbits. He was out of the question. Knuckles was away on Angel Island. No hope of running to him, the only one who could willingly fight Sonic, wound him, beat him. (She was wrong, of course. She had the power to wound him, better than physically. She was doing it now, running an arrow through his heart, but she could not think of such things now). Eggman…no. Even she was not so cruel. And she would not stand to be rescued by a monster from a monster. Sonic may have frightened her, but Eggman was her worst fear. And Amy, dear Amy, she was a hedgehog, too. Capable of what Sonic did.

All these facts were closing in on her, and this made her fear heighten and she cried out, dashing into her house and swiftly closing and locking the door behind her. She knew Sonic was on her heels. It was only a matter of time…her mother's voice was a faraway whisper in her ears, a question she could not answer or understand about why she had done this. When she smelled Sonic, she ran into her room and closed the door.

Sonic pounded on the front door. "Vanilla? Cream? It's Sonic." He paused, hearing footsteps. There was no trace of him ever having killed a rabbit on him now, besides his strength. The strength that came from the iron and vitamins in fresh meat (in any meat, really). Vanilla opened the door and admitted him quietly.

"What's happened, Sonic?" She asked gently, leading him without invite to the kitchen.

Sonic's mind hitched, like a car going over a speedbump too fast. "I—I—Cream, she saw me…but I never meant her to!" He defended weakly. His ears were pressed backwards against his head, and he ran a hand through his quills and sighed deeply.

Vanilla rested an understanding hand on his shoulder. "She saw you do what?" She pressed in that out-of-the-way manner mothers always get information out of children. It wasn't pushy, it was patient. And patience is something impossible for children to read.

Sonic told the story, but the whole time, his manner made it into something serious, like a confession of murder. His eyes remained dead and downcast, his fur seemed to darken to the gray of a rainy day, his hands were nervous and fidgety. He told her everything, accenting the parts that Cream had not heard. He didn't think Vanilla would fear him, but he didn't want to take the chance that she might.

Vanilla listened calmly to him, nodding when it was appropriate and making very little noise, even as she worked while he told her. She did not fear him, for she had known him to be a good heart long enough (rabbits judge the ones they know by "heart". And, Sonic had a big heart, in both meanings of the word) and she trusted him completely. Also, she was an old rabbit, old, even, beyond her years. And she knew, like many wild rabbit mothers did, that Sonic would not harm her baby. When he had finished and his eyes scrutinized the floor and his nose sparkled with tears, she rewarded him with a toasted ham and cheese sandwich.

He took it from her and ate it slowly, his shy eyes reading her face and waiting for a reaction. Cream's actions had really stabbed him repeatedly in the heart, and now that she was not near him, he was feeling more and more injured. He felt that he was bleeding, but he couldn't see the blood. His heart ached and burned, like there was a sword in the center, and Sonic wished for a cut or a burn he could see with his own eyes, to prove to himself that Cream was not the cause of this hurt, wishing that she would come and hug him and sit with him and pull his fur and laugh at his jokes and be near him. Even if she were to pull his tail, as she did when she was angry, at least he would know things could be made up. Vanilla's face was unreadable, which scared him, but loving, which assured him. He relaxed, but he was tense still. The taste of ham was making him sick, and he set aside the sandwich.

"You've hardly touched it." Vanilla looked briefly at the sandwich, then back at him. "Is the cheese bad?"

"No." Sonic bit his lip because it was trembling. His chest heaved and settled, and Vanilla knew that he had swallowed down a sob.

"Are you staying? We'd love to have you. Cream missed you, was worried." She turned to the sink, busying herself with something Sonic could not see, and looked towards him again.

"No." Sonic said again, his voice trembling. His eyes swelled with an amount of tears he didn't know he had.

"She isn't really hateful of you, you know. She just doesn't know how to react yet. She's still a baby." Vanilla rung her hands through her apron a moment, and then wrapped her arms around the teenage hedgehog. Sonic allowed himself to cry into her shoulder, and Vanilla stroked him. "There, there." She soothed. "It's all right. It's all right. Don't worry, everything's fine." She continued to soothe him until he didn't need it, and then she smiled at him.

He was looking into the hallway, down at one of the doors. The door that was Cream's room. It had been open a crack, but the crack disappeared with a soft thud when his eyes searched for the young girl within. "I think I'll go home." He said plainly and without emotion. "I can't stay here." He closed his eyes and was gone.

Vanilla dabbed the tears off her shoulder and threw the sandwich away. Sonic wouldn't come back as he was now. He would come back a different person.