So cold.

 

Her body was almost numb from the cold rain that soaked her clothing and pelt by the time she reached the old warehouse. She rubbed her hands and cracked her knuckles, trying to restore the feeling back to them as her thin leather gloves had done little to keep them warm.

 

The echo of her own boots on the concrete and the sound of the rain on the metal roof we’re the only sounds warding off the deafening silence as she made her way to the back of the building in search of what she came for. A silent prayer echoed in her mind that she wouldn’t be too late.

 

She stopped when she noticed the figure standing under one of few fluorescent lights that still functioned. Her heart jumped into her throat when she noticed the fresh blood staining his white clothes.

 

“I swear if you’ve hurt them,” her voice was quiet and weak.

 

“I was merely entertaining them until you got here, it’s not my fault if they couldn’t handle a little roughhousing.” The figure said.

 

“Where are they?” she dug her nails into her palm and did her best to avert his gaze.

 

He merely laughed and backed into the shadows, causing her to give chase through the darkness until she followed him into a dusty back office where he stood behind a desk covered in a blood-soaked cloth.

 

“Oh God, no..” she barely had the strength to speak.

 

“Sorry, I haven’t been able to clean this mess up,” He ripped off the cloth and she stood frozen for what felt like an entirety as her world fell apart.

 

What only looked like a gnarled mess of white and orange fur stained with red laid curled up on the table, barely breathing.

 

“No,” she stepped forward, not wanting to believe what she was seeing until one of it’s eyelids shot open to reveal a familiar sky-blue eye staring back at her.

 

“Please no,” tears flowed down her face as she she reached out and placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.

 

“Mom, it hurts. Please make it stop.” he choked.

 

“MIles, no,’ she scooped him up her arms, not caring about the blood quickly staining her fur and clothing, and carefully placed his head against her chest, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, I’m sorry this happened. Please forgive me.”

 

“I’m scared,” he barely spoke above a strained whisper.

 

“It’s okay now, mama’s here now,” she hugged him as tightly as she could in some desperate hope that it would be enough to save him, “I promise, it’ll be okay now.”

 

Tears ran freely and she began to sob as she felt him draw his last breath and go limp, “Oh God, please no. Please don’t take him from me, I can’t..” she could only cry and continue to cradle him in her arms.

 

“Touching, I can’t wait to show you what’s left of the other one.” The figure interupted.

 

“You monster, you son of a bitch. I’ll kill you,” she choked through the tears.

 

“You’ll try,” he said.

 

Instead of answering, she peeled of her trenchcoat and used to cover Miles as she laid his body down, “Here honey, you can have this to keep warm. Just think of it as mama tucking you into bed one last time.”

 

She forced herself to let go and stood up, defeated and caring about nothing else but ending this.

 

“You know, I’m surprised how much longer he lasted than the other one,” the figure held out his arm and a blue ribbon that had been nearly dyed red dangled from this hand.

 

“Go to hell!” she screamed, drawing her knife and lunging at the figure.

 

The blade sunk deep into his side as she forced him back against the wall. Rage stripped of her any semblance of self control and she withdrew the blade only to strike again and again. Hot blood splattered against her with and soaked her glove with each blow, but in her fury she didn’t care because only one obsessive and primal thought filled her mind.

 

Eventually, she tired and and the assault stopped. Blood ran from the figure’s mouth and he merely laughed as he coughed up even more.

 

“What’s so funny? Does something about dying amuse you?” she drew her sword and held it to his throat.

 

“No, seeing you enjoying yourself like this is what amuses me,” he choked.
Melinda froze and found herself unable to respond as the simple observation sliced into her like a knife.

 

“You’ve already given in to the bloodlust, to the your primal rage. Why stop now when you could embrace it,” he reached up and pulled the blade tighter against his own neck, drawing blood.

 

“It’s not like that, you killed him. You deserve this,” her voice shook.

 

“What’s the matter, afraid of becoming just like me?”

 

The sound of thunder shook the small room and a flash of lightning filled it from the window. In that instant the scene before her flickered and she caught only the quickest glimpse of matted black hair and emerald eyes staring back at her before the room went dark and she heard a single light hum to life behind her.

 

She took one last strained breath and turned around to see it lighting the desk like a spotlight and gagged as she noticed something now stuck in body, stabbed through the coat. A familiar silver handled dagger with a blue jewel in the pommel, the same one she noticed now missing from her hand.

 

Just like me

 

The words echoed in her head as she collapsed to the floor and passed out.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Melinda shot up in bed, panting, and ran her hand through her sweat drenched hair. Tears still ran down her cheeks as she tried to force herself to calm down.

 

“Just a nightmare, just a horrible nightmare,” she whispered to herself, “just..”

 

The worst of the muddled images racing through her head came to the surface and she quickly fished out the trash can that sat under the night stand, nearly burying her face in it as she gagged. She felt her body shake and convulse with panic as she struggled to make sense of it all and remind herself that wasn’t real.

 

Despite her efforts, the fresh memory of her son going cold in her arms ached like a bullet through the heart, even if it was nothing more than a dream. It was like her worst fear was made reality for those brief few moments and she couldn’t push the images out of her mind. It was real enough that the smell of rusted iron still filled her nostrils and she could still feel the warm blood soaking into her fur.
The worst of it finally passed and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, accepting the fact she was likely finished sleeping for the night, she grabbed her coat off the door before stepping out in the hall.

 

She froze midway through putting it on as she noticed the dark stains on Miles bedroom door across the hall, until she realized it was merely dirty oil and grease smeared across the door like so many nights before. The door was already was open a crack and she carefully nudged it open far enough to peer into the dimly lit room.

 

MIles laid peacefully in bed, seemly undisturbed by the various engine fluids caked in his fur or now smeared all over the covers and pillow. It would annoy most parents to think about the cleaning job in the morning, but she honestly found it kind of cute because his enthusiasm for engineering reminded her of the first time she saw a steam engine and the ensuing obsession with technology and tinkering with it that it sparked within her.

 

Content that he was safe, she gently pulled the door closed and continued down the hall towards the glass doors that lead out to the second-floor deck. As much as she’d would’ve loved to get him in a bear hug, grease and all, she didn’t want to wake him when he had obviously worn himself out so thoroughly.

 

A chill cut right through the thin sweatpants and tank-top she had worn to bed as she stepped out, even through her coat, but that was of little concern to her because she needed the fresh air to clear her head and help her think.

 

She began to wonder if she had inadvertently put her friends, and even her own son in danger simply by being in their lives, if she had just convinced herself that she could protect them out of some kind of selfish desire to have the children she could never bear as an immortal and the friendships that were often hard to maintain with others like herself. Had she only hurt them by staying? Had she only been been lucky for so many centuries that her mere existence didn’t lead to pain and suffering for those she cared about?

 

Would it better if she just left right now and left no way for them to follow? Left Miles with Sonic and hoped one of them would come up something to tell the others to make it hurt less. She knew that it would hurt Miles deeply to just abandon him, but would it be worth it if that kept him safe from the danger she was always in, made it so his battles with Eggman would be all he had to deal with?

 

The thought hurt her and made her heart ache, but she truly had to wonder if that would be the right thing.

 

No,“ The word echoed in her mind from somewhere deep inside.

 

“I’m here now and I promise I won’t leave you,” Her own words spoken not long ago to Cream.

 

“I’ll be right here for you no matter what, okay?” Words spoken to Miles the same night, a second promise.

 

No matter what, she would find a way to stay and protect them. No matter what her own doubts were, she could not break those promises. It wouldn’t be easy and she’d have to face that monster again, but she would stand and fight to protect everything she loved.

 

As if on cue, she heard the door sliding open behind her.

 

“Mom, why are you standing outside in your PJs and trenchcoat at 3AM?” Miles asked.

 

“I just needed some fresh air,” she lied.

 

“Are you feeling okay, Mom?” he asked, sounding concerned.

 

“I’m fine, kiddo. How about I tuck you back into bed?” she crouched down and rubbed his head.

 

“Aren’t I getting a little old for that?” he smiled.

 

“Let’s find out,” she quickly slid her arm behind his shoulders and hooked the other arm behind his legs before lifting him into the air as she stood, “ I can still do this, so I guess not.”

 

“You can lift Vanilla and she’s almost as big as you are, I don’t know if this is really fair,” he instinctively put an arm around her neck for support.

 

“Who said anything about fair, you said yourself I don’t fight fair so why should I start now?” she chuckled.

 

“You can be annoying sometimes, but I still love you,” he yawned and leaned his head against her chest.

 

“I love you to,” she kissed his forehead and carefully started back through the house, flinching at the taste.

 

“Mouthful of gas?” he asked sleepily without moving a muscle or opening his eyes, “sorry, I was to tired to wash off tonight.”

 

“It’s okay, I’ll live,” she carefully opened his bedroom door and stepped inside, this time taking note of the damage, mainly consisting of greasy footprints and the aforementioned stains on his bed.

 

After carefully pulling the blankets down she gently laid him down on the bed, making sure head his head was comfortably resting his pillow. She felt his arm slide free and he rolled over on his his side to face her as she pulled the cover over him and and let her arm lay over his shoulder.

 

“Goodnight, Mom,” he yawned.
“Goodnight, honey,” she remained crouched next to the bed for quite sometime, letting the last lingering images of the nightmare be replaced, the sound of his breathing comforting her and serving as a reminder that he was okay this time.