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Nighttime. That was around the time when most people started to unwind and get ready for bed. And Mr. Tinker was one of those people. Today had been particularly exhausting, so he bade all of his robot children and the Chaotix a good night, heading straight to bed after tiredly seeing to his hygiene and changing into his pajamas.
And now, here he lay, snuggled under blankets, his glasses set on his bedside table. He was out like a light within minutes.
Mr. Tinker sat in his office, pondering something, the lights dim and the curtains drawn, leaving him in partial darkness. But he didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed it. A sinister grin soon settled onto his lips and slowly stretched across his face. But a man like him shouldn't be grinning like that.
Should he?
And then he started laughing, starting off as a deep chuckle and steadily crescendoing into a mad cackle. And he shouldn't be laughing like that. Should he?
“I've got it! I've finally got the perfect plan..” he mused as soon as the laughter ended. And then he stood to his feet, and suddenly he changed. Gone were the green overalls and pink shirt. They were replaced by a red jacket and black pants.
The environment changed too, turning from his homely office into a sprawling steel blue and equally dark room, pistons and pipes lining almost every wall. Mr. Tinker folded his hands behind his back, still grinning, and he began stalking through it, heading for the touchscreen mainframe up against the wall.
He placed a hand on its sensor, unlocking and activating it post-haste, and watched as dozens of binary lines appeared on the screen. A language he fluently understood. As soon as the lines of binary code vanished, allowing him to begin typing commands, Mr. Tinker just about pounced on the keyboard, his fingers moving almost faster than the speed of sound. He activated the blueprints making sequence, and then began painstakingly drawing on the screen with his finger his mental image.
And then, after a while, it was complete, and the computer automatically transformed it, showing him the blueprints he'd just digitally constructed. The blueprints for the perfect death machine with Sonic's name on it.
“I won't fail this time..” the man sneered, but still grinned, forwarding this to his Badniks. “Soon that little blue rat will pay dearly!”
“Dad?” a familiar voice called from somewhere behind him. And Mr. Tinker cringed, spinning around on his heel. His smile? gone. Standing in the middle.. was Belle. She wasn't wearing her usual attire though, dressed in the red and black Eggpire outfit. And her blue eyes drooped as they stared up at him.
“Blegh, I thought I told you never to call me that, Belle!” he clenched his hands, scowling at her.
“I'm sorry.” She bowed her head, but still kept an eye on her fa—no.. her creator.
“And you say that every single time! I swear, it's like your memory chip is malfunctioning!” Mr. Tinker growled, shaking his fist at her. His voice then got darkly low as he continued, “Sometimes I wonder why I even built you..”
Belle flinched. The man clutched at his blankets, screwing his eyes shut tighter with obvious distress. But she took a breath, lifted her head and allowed herself to smile a little. “You wanted another companion, Doctor..”
“Bah! another tool is more like it,” he grinned again, cruelly this time. And Belle's smile faded; she hugged herself, tears welling up in her eyes. Knowing she'd never receive hugs from her creator again. Mr. Tinker rolled his eyes. “Well? you have the blueprints! what're you waiting for? get to work!”
He demanded, pointing towards the exit. The wooden robot didn't move, simply closing her eyes for a moment. The man shook with rage, and he stomped up to her. When he reached her, he gripped her wrist and began dragging her to the exit. Belle winced and cried out. That actually hurt?
And that's when Mr. Tinker hauled off and smacked her, and the whiplash from that almost took her head off. She was then lifted up and brought up to his face, his heavily scowling face. “Quit your sniveling, you wooden plank! you should be glad I haven't reprogrammed you yet like I did your little friend! but you're approaching that eventuality very, very quickly!”
Belle shook, and forced herself to stop crying. She didn't want to be reprogrammed like Motobud was. “Sorry, sir..”
This apology didn't make the matter better in his opinion. The man only continued to seethe, shaking even more with rage.
The wooden robot mumbled something just then, and despite them being just inches apart now, he couldn't quite hear. His face scrunched up, and he sneered as he barked at her, “What was that?!”
“I.. I was saying that.. I miss the old days.. I miss Windmill Village.. and I miss you..” she paused, before she finally said it again, “dad..”
His eyes widened, his sneer becoming a horrified frown in the span of about a minute, his mustache drooping too. What was he doing? he trembled again, for a much different reason now. Belle watched him, shocked and confused. He bowed his head and slumped to the floor, still holding her wrist, unwittingly setting her down. The girl just watched, unable to really do much still.
“I'm sorry..” Mr. Tinker started to cry, finally letting her go. “I'm so sorry..”
Belle reached out for him carefully, tentatively. Eventually, she hugged him. But no sooner had she done that than he stopped sobbing, stopped shaking. Belle thought he was feeling better now, and so smiled.
But something was wrong. The air, once lukewarm, was becoming frigid. A frightening smile once again stretched across his lips. But she wouldn't see it, not yet. His head was still bowed. Belle furrowed her brow slightly.
The silence was unbearable. So she attempted to fill it by asking, “Dad? are you.. okay?"
“Oh..” the man lifted his head, revealing that sick, twisted, angry smile, and Belle gasped, beginning to back away. “I've never felt better, Belle..”
She continued to back away as he slowly stood up, towering over her again. He stalked towards her. “You made me care once more. I can't allow that to happen again.”
“Wh..wha.. what are you.. gonna do to me?” Belle’s voice was awfully small, and she was cowering as she kept backing away. Eventually though, she backed up against a wall.
Mr. Tinker chuckled softly, but it sounded diabolical all the same. “What do you think?”
His shadow encroached upon her, and she gasped as it started dismantling her. Piece by piece. The ovoid man watched, still smiling, arms crossed behind his back. He let loose a low whine in his sleep, beginning to toss and turn. And he ignored her pleas to stop and her cries of pain.
“Don't you worry, Belle. This won't be forever. But, once you're rebuilt, you'll never be yourself again..”
And that's when he jolted awake, spluttering and gasping for air. His blue eyes frantically looked around, and he soon saw that he was in bed. His mustache drooped with relief, and he sighed as he placed a hand on his forehead and massaged it. But.. he had to check something else. Mr. Tinker fumbled around for his glasses with his other hand, finding them eventually and placing them on his nose. He pushed the covers back and got out of bed, groaning.
He felt absolutely miserable, and he must've also looked miserable. That nightmare still clung to him, and he had to reassure himself that it hadn't actually happened. Mr. Tinker left his room, creeping down the hallway so he wouldn't wake up his children and the three detectives. Belle's room wasn't too far away from his own, and when he reached it, he took a deep, silent breath, resting his hand on the doorknob and trying to silently twist it and push the door open.
Mission successful, the door opened quietly, and he peeked in. There, in her bed, was Belle, his precious little tinkerer, and sleeping curled under her arms was Motobud, his precious little child. He let loose his noiseless bated breath and smiled softly. He was oh so glad she was alright and not dismantled,—and that Motobud was okay as well—and she seemed to be sleeping soundly too. He watched them for some time, standing at the door, before he eventually pulled the door closed, making sure he was quiet once more.
And then, he headed back to his room, a tired slump in his step despite how utterly relieved he felt. Mr. Tinker just about collapsed into bed the moment he reached it, pulling the covers over himself again and setting his glasses on the bedside table once more. The second he closed his eyes, he was down for the count, beginning to snore softly.
The scene was different this time around. Mr. Tinker, once again dressed in his red and black outfit, stood aboard one of his face-ships. It was positioned right over Windmill Village, and he was laughing utterly maniacally, the sound broadcasted through a speaker. People were coming out of the woodworks, filing out of their homes to see what the hubbub was about, only to cower as they saw his ship.
But that wasn't right.
Once the laughter died away, the egg-shaped man yelled out, “You really thought you'd seen the last of me? I know I promised to do good, but why did you ever believe it? I was playing you all for chumps this whole time!”
Orbot and Cubot sat nearby, cowering next to the cockpit. They also bore sad looks on their faces, missing what once was, and exchanged glances, shaking their heads. Their boss had been.. lying? for a good while, the two shape brothers thought he was genuine. But the slide back to evil, and abuse, for the man, while slow, was all too noticeable..
“But really, I'm here to pay a little respect and gratitude. You did care for me, and no good deed ever goes unpunished!” Mr. Tinker chuckled. He made his way over to the cockpit, and the two robots froze up. He kicked them out of the way, though they barely were in his way, and he squirmed under the blankets, clenching his teeth, the robots reacting with some pain.
“Pops?! please.. think about this!” Cubot was the one to regain his voice and mobility back, while Orbot simulated a gulp and stayed quiet. “You don't have to do this. We can just.. keep livin’ peaceful lives here!"
“Pah! I was only wasting my genius and my time.” Mr. Tinker frowned, still gazing at the controls. “And you'd do well to know your place, Cubot..”
An implicit threat. But Cubot didn't seem deterred. “I didn't see it as a waste! we were actually really productive!”
“Productive.. productive?!” his glare snapped over to them as he stomped his foot, clenching his fist. He'd then point at them dramatically. “You couldn't even hang up a picture or bake a simple goddamn cake!”
And that's when Cubot quieted, optics widening before they drooped, so to speak, and he sighed as he slumped. Orbot reached for him and patted him on the back, but now he was glaring at their boss. “..I thought you didn't mind it, Boss.”
“One more word..! one. More. Word..” venom dripped heavy from that, an inexplicable shadow covering the upper half of Mr. Tinker’s face. Orbot clammed up too then, retreating into his shell. And Cubot patted him, shaking his head.
The man glared for a few minutes more, and soon entered the cockpit. He was reminded that the outsiders could hear them, and, with a slight grin, delivered a condescending yet humorous “Haha, minions.. am I right?”
Mr. Tinker then hummed, looking over the controls again. “You know what? I'm feeling generous today. You get to choose your demise. What will it be? fire? or death ray?”
And that's when he was met with a cacophony of screams, the Mobians beginning to evacuate the premises, and he acted like he fed off of them like some kind of demon, his grin growing wider. “Hehe.. whaddya know? that platypus was right. Terrorizing citizens really does do me some good..”
A few moments later, manic in his eyes, he set a hand on a lever, ready to push it. “Well. No one seems to be choosing. SO LET'S JUST DO BOTH!” and then he cackled again, shoving the lever forward and pressing a button. Fire descended upon the village from the ship’s gaping mouth, and a laser gun lowered itself from the face ship’s now open chassis. Another push of a button fired it, and those delicious screams of pain that resulted from both the fire and ray of death absolutely pleased him.
He kept cackling, overlaying their agonized noises, and a strangled yelp tore from Mr. Tinker’s mouth as he practically flew up to a sitting position, panting and eyes snapping open. He gazed around once more. ..bed. Still bed. Still in his bedroom. He wasn't aboard one of his face-ships..
He sighed and shut his eyes, shaking his head and massaging the bridge of his nose. “Ugh..”
It was somewhat weird that nightmares were only now beginning to bother him, compared to Belle’s happening the same night he told her he was once Doctor Eggman. But.. it wasn't the least bit surprising. It probably just had to set in. Or something. It wouldn't be healing if it was linear and smooth sailing, after all.
But damn if he didn't wish it was.
Mr. Tinker retrieved his glasses, kicked off the blankets this time, and swung his legs to the side of his bed to stand. And stand he did, shakily. He was so tired..
Maybe some warm milk and honey would do him some good.. he knew the studies led to conflicting results about whether it caused nightmares or stopped them, but dammit he had to try something. And there was no way in hell he was going to try making tea this late.
Once again he crept out of his room and into the hall, looking around. No one was up and about, but he did start to hear chatter coming from a room farther away from Belle's. It sounded like Orbot and Cubot, as well as Metal Sonic, were having a rather simple and quiet conversation. And once again, he was relieved. But now he had to be extra careful not to alert them.
Mr. Tinker shuffled quietly down the hall to the kitchen, eventually bringing a hand up to his arm and gently rubbing and squeezing it, attempting to soothe and reassure himself. Those were just nightmares. Just nightmares. They'd never.. ever.. come true.
So why did he feel so sick inside? it was almost like there was something wrong trapped within now. And, he really hated to admit it, but he nowadays sometimes seemed to act a bit more like Doctor Eggman than Mr. Tinker.. even if it was never towards his children, he felt a certain anger still stewing. How else could he explain snapping at Vector for almost running him, Belle and Elder Scruffy over and raising his voice at Charmy for scaring him? were he just Mr. Tinker, still amnesiac, maybe that wouldn't have happened. And he felt really bad for doing such things, even though he had every right to be mad..
The man soon grunted, shaking his head and attempting to rid himself of these thoughts. Thinking about it wasn't helping. In fact, it was giving him quite the headache.
Reaching the kitchen, he headed straight for the stove, turning on an eye and setting a skillet on it. Then the fridge, pulling out the milk carton. And then he grabbed a heat-safe mug and a jar of honey from the cabinet. All the while, he attempted to be as quiet as possible. He rinsed out the mug and then poured the milk into it, filling it almost to the rim, and set it on the skillet so it could start heating up.
Perfect quiet alternative for the loud microwave. He was glad he remembered that, beginning to smile a little. As the milk heated up, he opened the jar of honey and grabbed a spoon. Mr. Tinker sighed as he waited, pressing a hand to his forehead again and massaging it. A few minutes later, he carefully withdrew the mug from the skillet, the milk nice and steamy, turned the eye off, and brought it over to the table, where the open jar of honey was waiting.
The man took the spoon and gathered some honey in it, and then thoroughly mixed it into the milk. It smelled absolutely delicious now, and already began working to soothe him. He closed his eyes, taking another deep breath and sighing it out. Once done, he closed the honey jar, placed it back in the cabinet, and returned to the mug to continue stirring it, eventually and gently scooping it into his hands.
He brought it up to his lips and took a careful sip, beginning to shuffle back to his room. Once there, he sat down on his bed, closing his eyes and slowly beginning to drink it, savoring every swallow, each sip making him sleepier than before. A few minutes later, he finished his drink and set it on his bedside table, and then removed his glasses once more and set them on the table as well.
Mr. Tinker yawned and stretched, and then lay down and pulled the blankets over him again, snuggling into his pillow. Maybe now he'd have sweet dreams.. dreams as sweet as his honeyed milk..
The ovoid man found himself in yet another base, very dimly lit and foul-looking, sitting in yet another office. But instead of balking at such foulness, he felt he was right at home. However, there cropped up an emotion here that didn't fit. Instead of smiling and laughing, he scowled and snarled. Not only did that meddlesome hedgehog and his friends win again, but Metal Sonic, his eldest creation, had the nerve to betray him, to toss him into a cell like an abandoned toy.
He stewed in seething rage, long after he managed to escape, glaring at his injured creation who was strapped to the table across from him. Mr. Tinker stood up, trembling like a leaf in a storm with how much rage was building up, just waiting to erupt. His very presence commanded the area, and not just because he was taller than everything and everyone else. And with a chilling voice, he lowly growled, “Metal Sonic.. tell me why you thought betraying and locking me up was a good idea..”
This sentence reverberated throughout, and Metal Sonic flinched beside himself. Oh, he was in deep, deep trouble. But he soon opened his vocal processor, ready to beep out his response, only for the man to wave a dismissive hand, scowling heavily. “Don't bother. Whatever reason you may have doesn't matter to me. You have committed a grave crime. Treason, to the Eggman Empire!”
Mr. Tinker slammed a fist on his desk, accidentally denting it. He scowled even more at that. “Blasted desk..”
Metal Sonic merely watched, his red eyes seemingly hollow. In truth, he felt.. fear.. for the first time in his life. Fear? was that the correct emotion? he didn't know, but it seemed right. The man huffed as he glared back over at the robotic hedgehog, and then his expression seemed to soften, actually. He smiled, but it radiated cruelty. It seemed like he could sense this fear, even with how Metal hid it behind his always dour expression, and he fed off of it.
“But not to fear, Metal Sonic..” the good doctor scooped up a rather bulky tablet, beginning to stalk his way over to the table. “I'm most humane. You get to stick around. But there's some.. changes I'll have to make. I hope you understand..”
Metal Sonic soon tried to break his binds, but found the binds were far stronger, far tougher, than him. He ended up merely struggling. Mr. Tinker laughed at this pathetic attempt to escape. “Nice try, but those shackles were made from the toughest alloy possible. Where could you ever hope to go anyway? this is my domain. I have eyes everywhere, Metal Sonic.”
His shadow soon loomed over the metal doppelganger, and that's when two cables shot forth from his tablet and forcibly dug themselves into Metal’s ports, and the robot jolted heavily, crying out and shutting his optics.
Wait. Did he actually feel.. pain?
That wasn't right.. and the doctor, his creator, didn't seem to have the intent of shutting him down for the process. Mr. Tinker grinned and began deleting some strings of code, watching as his creation's optics became a blue screen filled with binary code, watching as Metal’s head jostled around and began sparking slightly. But he felt absolutely nothing.
He felt no pity.
He felt no compassion.
All he felt was a need to correct, a need to punish.. a need for revenge.
Mr. Tinker laughed again, as he grew even more restless, tossing and turning, as he returned Metal Sonic to his base mentality, as he effectively lobotomized his most prized creation.
All throughout, Metal’s head and body jerked around erratically, though the movements were vaguely limited by his restraints, and he let loose shrill beeps of sheer agony. Mr. Tinker, a twisted smile still on his face, drew this out, but very soon he left behind a failsafe, to ensure that his betrayal never happened again. Ensuring that Metal Sonic would remain forever loyal to him and him only.
Saving the new code, he pressed a button on the tablet, and the cables outright yanked themselves out of Metal’s ports, snapping back into a compartment. After a sharp wince from that, slowly, the pain faded. He stopped sparking and jerking around, and the blue screen vanished from his eyes. And he found that.. he felt.. profoundly limited compared to before.
His fear had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming loyalty that he couldn't possibly tone down or control. He also felt an at the moment intense impulse to please and serve his creator.
“How do you feel now, Metal Sonic?”
Metal Sonic turned his head to look at Mr. Tinker, and before he knew what he was doing, his hand curled into a thumbs up.
“Hehe.. attaboy..” the smile that coated the man's lips now.. seemed to prove fatherly. Warm. Inviting. But Metal inwardly knew the truth, the pure inhumanity behind it. “Now.. let me fix you up..”
Mr. Tinker reached for the restraints to unclasp them, and he catapulted into a sitting position; both hands began clutching at his head. He started to sob, quietly, remorse wrapped tightly around his heart. Would he ever get a good night's sleep without being tormented by his past, by his guilt?
He hated this so much. And he was so goddamn tired..
Shaking his head, he pulled his hands down from his face, sniffling with his tears still streaming and wetting his drooping mustache. He glanced over at the empty mug on his bedside table, and frowned even more.
Well.. that was a bust.
But.. perhaps it needed more time to kick in? oh, how he hoped that was the case. But.. he was too tired, too exhausted, to stay awake much longer. Perhaps he just had to power through. He could re-energize himself with some coffee when he was actually supposed to be awake.
Mr. Tinker nodded to himself, affirming that plan, and lay back down, staring up at the ceiling. Swallowing down his dread, he eventually closed his eyes once again.
Only to soon find himself in the Final Egg this time, in the same room Doctor Starline used to try to get his memories back, and it seemed much larger than life, and also seemingly empty. But this time.. Mr. Tinker was himself, and he looked worried as he gazed around and turned this way and that, chewing his lip.
“I'm.. back here again?” the man furrowed his brow, tugging at his collar.
No no no, this wasn't right. This wasn't possible! he should be in bed right now..
He eventually heard a quiet snicker, and his eyes widened behind his glasses. Somebody else was here with him. Mr. Tinker, against his best wishes, cautiously called out, “H..hello?”
He looked around again, trembling. His hands clenched and unclenched in front of him, held a little like a raptor’s arms, and he soon heard another, this time louder. And.. he could've sworn it sounded awfully familiar..
“..Doctor Starline?” was a tentative guess, and his brow furrowed even more.
The laughter crescendoed just then, proving to be utterly manic, and that's when it clicked. That wasn't the platypus.. no, it was something far, far worse..
“Oh, please don't tell me you don't know the sound of your own voice..” it mocked him as soon as the laughter died down, and suddenly, another tall egg-shaped man appeared from the shadows, a grin on his face and arms behind his back.
It was him! but.. wrong. Oh so very wrong..
For one, the smile on his face was cruel. And he could tell his eyes were too, despite how hidden they were. And there was that scowl. That heavy, dark scowl..
Mr. Tinker cowered before him, eyes wide. Cold sweat began to trickle from his face. “You..”
“Yes. Me..” the last word reverberated throughout the room, and the good man backed away a step. The evil one countered this by taking yet another step forward, canting his head in a creepy way. “And you, of course.”
The man swallowed. He had a feeling he knew what that meant, but.. at the same time this could not be. “Wh.. what do you mean?”
“Oh. Mr. Tinker.. you and I both know you're far smarter than that..” the other man replied, shaking his head. But he still grinned. “After all, we're both cut from the same cloth! wearing the same clothes and all!”
Mr. Tinker trembled even more, and he shook his head most vigorously as he took another step back. He couldn't say a word, running counter to his other self’s boisterous nature.
The evil ovoid man’s smile turned upside down just then, and he began walking towards his counterpart with an angry pep in his step. “Cat got your tongue?!”
The good one, though, attempted to back up more, still not saying a word. But was soon caught by the arms, and he yelped, right as the other yelled in his face, “Say something, you miserable goody-two-shoes!”
“Let go of me!” Mr. Tinker cried out. “I’m not you anymore! I'm not!”
“Oh but you are!” he suddenly grinned again, almost as though his previous anger was forgotten. He was still gripping his counterpart’s arms like a vice though, almost threatening to break them. “Have you suddenly forgotten all those crimes you've committed? all the blood you spilled?” and then his voice darkened, “the people you killed?”
Tears began running down Mr. Tinker's cheeks just then, and he sniffled and hiccuped. “I..”
“You can never absolve yourself of your sins, Mr. Tinker.. never..”
Silence descended upon them, and Mr. Tinker continued to tremble, bowing his head and screwing his teary eyes shut.
“That promise you made to Belle?”—his eyes shot right back open—“You can forget about ever fulfilling it. You'll hurt her. And you'll hurt the rest of your family.”
A fierce resolve began burning away the pit of fear in Mr. Tinker's stomach, and he gradually stopped shaking.
“You can't be good forever. In fact, you're never going to be good. Just admit it, you're lying to everyone! your apology was empty and so is your promise. You'll slip, realize the darkness you still hold inside, and turn right back into me. This. I. Pro—”
“NO!” the tinkerer roared suddenly, and performed a solid kick to the shin, forcing the evil man to let go of his arms. And then he kicked him away, the force sending him flying. Mr. Tinker rubbed and squeezed at his arms to try and get feeling back into them, but soon he dramatically pointed at the doppelganger, a sneer on his face as he yelled, “I'LL NEVER BE YOU AGAIN!”
In the middle of his arc, the evil man began to glitch. His clothing soon shifted into that of Doctor Eggman’s, and he bounced off the floor. He then performed a midair flip, soon striking a superhero landing pose that almost dented the Final Egg’s pristine flooring. He gazed up at Mr. Tinker, who stood at the ready now, and smiled as he stood up.
“And here I thought you weren't going to fight back. This has gotten very, very interesting..” he chuckled, brushing himself off before also settling into a battle stance. “Far be it from me to dirty my hands, but.. for this, I'll make an exception..”
Mr. Tinker huffed, breathing through his nose. A furious and determined spark glinted in his hidden eyes, but Doctor Eggman would still be able to tell. And there was a scowl on his face too, but it held righteous anger more than anything.
“You shouldn't have ever brought up my family..” he spoke quietly now, tranquil fury underlining his tone. He began to approach, slowly at first but steadily picking up speed. “I'll make sure you never rise again..!”
“Tch, we'll see about that,” and Doctor Eggman began approaching as well, eventually rushing towards Mr. Tinker.
They met in the middle, and their punches connected with each other. Mr. Tinker let loose a flurry of them, throwing in a few kicks, but Doctor Eggman matched him blow for blow. Eventually, they hopped away from each other, trying a different approach, but it led to the same thing. Soon, the evil man started laughing.
“What's so funny?” the good man raised a brow, stopping his attack momentarily. But the doctor didn't, and so landed a sweeping kick, knocking the tinkerer off his feet.
“That's the thing about sharing minds. You know exactly what I'm going to do, but I know exactly what you're going to do.” He planted a foot against Mr. Tinker's back and pressed down slightly, grinning. “Strange, isn't it?”
The tinkerer’s eyes widened, both with pain and emotional shock. This fight seemed.. a tad hopeless on both sides, didn't it? but he wasn't about to roll over and give up. He furrowed his brow, reached for and grabbed Doctor Eggman's leg, prompting a short, surprised gasp as he began to pull.
The doctor tried to press down harder, but the tinkerer succeeded in what he was doing seconds later—his foot off his back. He then sat up, still holding Eggman's leg, and singlehandedly tossed him aside.
Doctor Eggman crashed into the floor with a resounding thud, and he groaned as he held a hand to his head. Mr. Tinker then quickly stood to his feet, stretching out his back before gazing at his doppelganger to see what he would do next.
The man shakily stood up too, and turned around on his heel. He grinned again, clapping briefly and catching Mr. Tinker a bit off guard. “Bravo, bravo! I didn't expect that,” but then he reached towards his hip, and unholstered an Egg Glock, pointing it at his counterpart and firing shortly after, “but did you expect this?!”
Mr. Tinker let loose a small scream, absolutely taken by surprise with this move, and dodged the blast by throwing himself out of the way. It hit the wall behind him, singeing it. He looked back at it, eyes wide. And then he looked back at Doctor Eggman, who appeared absolutely manic, and furrowed his brow as he confronted this. “Hey! that's not fair!”
“Anything goes in this fight, mister goody-two-shoes!” the doctor chuckled, “and you should know that I don't play fair! now hold still so I can hit you!”
He proceeded to aim again, but Mr. Tinker proceeded to do the opposite of what he said and started moving in a zigzag, making it far harder for him to aim properly. Doctor Eggman groaned, but still attempted, firing every now and then and hoping one would connect.
Hmm.. “anything goes”, huh? the tinkerer mused, and began to think of what he could possibly use to make the fight a bit fairer, to turn the tides in his favor..
Eventually, he thought of one, but a blast just then grazed his head, barely missing his mustache and hitting a large shelf holding several barrels of toxic waste he happened to be standing under. Disturbed, the shelf wobbled and tilted down, and the barrels started sliding off.
Mr. Tinker looked up, and gained an expression of horror as they proceeded to fall on him. All Doctor Eggman could see was that. He didn't see anything else, not Mr. Tinker holding up his arm to try and protect himself, not a mild flash of light. Just barrels constantly rolling down onto him.
He lowered his gun, and furrowed his brow. He approached carefully when the last of the barrels fell, and stared at the rubble. After several moments, he smiled and laughed, leaning back. That was the end of that.
...
..that was the end of that.
...
..why wasn't the dream ending? he was victorious, wasn't he?
A gentle green glow soon emanated from the wreckage, and Doctor Eggman started upon seeing this, beginning to back away. He suddenly felt like he was in grave danger. And that's when the barrels burst away, revealing a particularly empowered Mr. Tinker. And the glow came from a gigantic greatsword the likes of which a certain Final Fantasy character would wield, which he was wielding in his right hand, his other hand pushed outward.
It had beautiful, but strange, glowing green patterns that spelled out love and family carved on its gold hilt and white blade. The greatsword itself seemed awfully well-crafted, and just as gorgeous as its patterns. Doctor Eggman almost began to admire it, but when Mr. Tinker turned to face him and brandished said sword at him with a frown, he realized something.
That sword was going to be used against him.
And he quietly cursed, furrowing his brow, upset that he hadn't thought of that. It was such a shame that this beauty wasn't his. Doctor Eggman backed away, but Mr. Tinker followed with his sword almost dragging behind him, silently. Deadly.
And he was giving his doppelganger such a severe look..
“Okay okay! look, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for what I'd said about your family!” the doctor attempted an apology, still backing away, but the tinkerer wasn't about to hear it. He dropped to his knees eventually, and dropped his gun, clasping his hands together. He surely wasn't afraid to beg for his life. “I can make things up to you, Mr. Tinker. I well and truly can! I'll give this whole thing up!”
Mr. Tinker soon reached Doctor Eggman, and hefted the sword up. The good doctor freaked out, mustache going absolutely wild.
“I promise I will!”
The tinkerer paused for a moment, his expression softening. And it was clear from that.. that he was actually considering this. But he remembered that one time he trapped Sonic while he was super with this tactic. What if this was the same thing?
..he didn't know. Even though this man was his past. It could've very well been genuine this time. Doctor Eggman watched, really hoping this worked. He'd seen Mr. Tinker's expression soften considerably, so.. that was a start at the very least.
“..okay.” He lowered his blade. “So long as you really are genuine about it.”
Oh thank Gaia it worked! Doctor Eggman smiled, and stood up, leaving his gun on the floor. He brushed himself off, and then gazed at the tinkerer, a hand now behind his back. His other hand reached out for Mr. Tinker's. “Let's shake on it, Mr. Tinker.”
The man blinked, staring at it. He switched his sword to his left hand soon enough, and smiled back, reaching out to grab his doppelganger’s. “Yes.. let's.”
There was a glint of something in Eggman's eyes just then, and his smile widened. He soon revealed his other hand the second their hands were about to touch, thrusting it forward in an attempt to stab. Mr. Tinker gasped, eyes wide at this betrayal he totally should've seen coming, and quickly tried to move his sword in front to block.
And he was just in time, for the knife hit his blade with a resounding clang!
The knife was jagged, and jet black in color. It had red, harshly glowing patterns that spelled malice carved into its hilt and blade. Doctor Eggman cackled even though he didn't successfully stab his counterpart. “Ohohoho!! how foolish of you! you really thought that I'd give up? I played you! I played you like a fiddle! hahaha!!”
Mr. Tinker growled, and pushed off Eggman's blade with his sword to give himself some room. “Truth be told, I had a feeling you were lying. After all, you had done the same to Sonic that one time.”
“You mean, you had done the same to Sonic that one time!” the evil doctor looked downright insane now, wagging his index finger. “Let's not misplace the blame here. So then, if you knew, why on Mobius did you spare me?”
Mr. Tinker frowned. He didn't know. But perhaps it was just a misguided attempt.. a misguided attempt to change his past. He should've known he never would be able to do that.
He opened his mouth, but the doctor quickly interrupted with, “Actually, you know what? I don't really care!”
He then, knife poised to stab, rushed Mr. Tinker, who growled and readied his own greatsword to parry and block every attack. It was almost like it was a part of him, an extension of himself; he didn't struggle to wield it, even with one hand.
But it was just as likely that Eggman's own knife was an extension of himself too, given how skilled he seemed with it. “I can keep going all night, mister goody-two-shoes! can you?!”
The tinkerer huffed again, not even bothering to respond. He was watching and waiting for an opening, but after enough blocking, he realized he'd probably have to create one himself. The next time Doctor Eggman stabbed at him and the knife clanged against his greatsword, he used the force of that to push himself back, and took several steps back.
“Oh no you don't!” the doctor rushed him again, but this time, he pounced, his knife drawn back. Little did he know, this would prove to be a mistake.
The tinkerer hefted his sword again, both hands now clutching the hilt. And then at almost the last moment, he swung it at Doctor Eggman, who gasped and tried his best to stop his momentum in midair. But it was too late.
The greatsword cleaved him in two, and with a pained scream he fell to the floor, his bottom half still connected, but by a sliver, and his glasses bounced off his face. There thankfully wasn't any blood, only shadows spilling from his wounds. He coughed, soon gazing up at Mr. Tinker.. with those shockingly brilliant blue eyes, rather than red like he might've been expecting. Were it not for the fact that they were also quite chilling, the tinkerer would've reacted worse. Instead, his mouth simply dropped slightly open, his eyes widened and his brow rose.
He took a step back, raising his now free hand to his lips, as Doctor Eggman grinned at him despite his extremely severe injury. “Ha. Ha. Ha.. looks like you won this battle, mister goody-two-shoes..”
The doctor hacked, shutting his eyes, and shadows began dripping from his mouth. He was beginning to vanish, from the toes up, steadily, slowly, but it was also gradually picking up speed. The tinkerer continued to watch, his greatsword almost slipping out of his hand. He couldn't help slightly smiling now, despite still feeling shock.
“..looks.. looks like I did.. and now, I won't have to deal with you ever again..”
Doctor Eggman stared at his counterpart for a while, but then he suddenly growled and frowned at him, weakly slamming his hands against the floor and making Mr. Tinker jump. “You really think that just because you defeated me means that I’ll vanish? I am you, Mr. Tinker. And you are me.” He then smiled, almost serenely, but still very much cruelly; he was only a head now. “I'll haunt you for as long as you live..”
And then.. he was gone. And Mr. Tinker jolted awake, eyes snapping open. This wasn't nearly as bad as his other wakeups, but.. it still came awfully close. He sighed, clutching at his chest. His heart was pounding so hard, and he was trembling.
Almost every single word his counterpart had said.. those last words in particular.. very much disturbed him. And.. deep down.. he knew it was true. His nightmares tonight were a vast testament to that..
The man eventually cried, tears dropping hard and fast against his pillow, and he almost didn't bother being quiet, sobbing every now and then. He hugged himself, trying to calm himself down. And he soon did, and gazed at the clock on his bedside table.
Still the unholy hours..
..he would need so much coffee to even function.. and that was if he had more nightmares that kept waking him up throughout the night. He sighed, barely even noticing his door creaking open. But he did notice his bed getting a lot fuller than usual. He blinked, and slowly sat up, squinting to see what this was. In his giant bed, cuddling around him, were his five children.
“Wha..?” he sleepily mumbled, raising his brow. He was touched, for sure, but..
“Get some sleep, dad..” Belle smiled, patting his arm. “We'll protect you.”
“Yeah, Pops..” Cubot chimed in, also smiling. He nuzzled his father. “Get some rest.”
Orbot remained quiet for a spell, his hands wringing each other out, but also offered a smile, rather shaky though it was. It was clear he was nervous about doing this. Extremely nervous. But he eventually sighed and said, “We'll be here, Mr. Tinker..”
Metal Sonic quietly beeped his affirmation, saying much of what the others had said, and closed his optics in an attempt to smile through them. And then Motobud also chirped, smiling with their eyes much more successfully.
Mr. Tinker continued to gaze at them, his heart absolutely melting. His tears returned, but they felt warm instead of cold. He softly smiled and pulled them all into a hug, and Orbot tried his best not to flinch. “Thank you.. thank you so much.. I love you guys..”
The others returned his affection, and after he withdrew, watched as he lay back down and closed his eyes. Soft snores emanated from him soon enough, and they exchanged smiles, returning to a cuddle pile on his bed.
They also eventually fell asleep, even though they kinda didn't need to. And Mr. Tinker dreamed very sweet dreams of himself and his family from then on, those godawful nightmares showing no signs of returning.
But wait. Something else was happening now. His door opened a bit more, and three sleepy heads poked through. They exchanged glances, and soon grinned to each other, Charmy nearly squeeing from how cute this was. Vector and Espio quietly chuckled, and then withdrew from the door.
But Charmy stayed for a spell longer, watching the family sleep with a giant smile on his face. Soon enough though..
“Psst..” Vector tried his best to be quiet, and the bee felt a slight tugging sensation on his leg. “Charmy.. let's go before we wake em up..”
“Aw okay,” he sighed, also quietly, and soon withdrew from the door as well, Vector closing it gently behind them.
And once they returned to their guest room and tucked themselves into their respective beds, they also conked out.
Safe to say, everyone had sweet dreams from here on out..
END