Chapter Text
Ivo Kintobor knew his parents were gone before anyone told him. When his aunt came to take him home instead, when he saw the redness under her sharp eyes, he knew.
He liked living with her, in her big old house with lots of gadgets to take apart and study. She smiled when he told her about his pseudonym, giggled with him at how clever it was in its simplicity. Instead of reprimanding him for it, the first time one of the little creations clattered its way across the table to her she laughed, took him out for ice cream and told him he was a genius.
"A cut above the rest," she said, "people will worship you one day, mark my words."
And he had. He only had six months with her before she died, but when he was shipped off to the nearest orphanage it was her words that kept him going through bullying and isolation and mental understimulation.
But he was lonely. He may have been superior, but he was still human, like it or not. What good was a mind like his with no one to share it with? Even the most intelligent of his peers couldn't fathom the things he spoke of, things he'd read in his aunt's library and committed to perfect memory.
Well, Ivo decided, if humanity couldn't cut it, technology would.
Tucked away in the attic lab he'd been reluctantly provided in an effort towards less explosions in the dorm room, he got to work.
A basic computer, some parts scavenged or stolen, and a few days at the library, and Ivo was ready.
Program 1 was a total failure.
Program 2, marginally better, at least managed to boot up for a solid 30 seconds before burning out the inferior CPU.
By Program 4 Ivo had solved the CPU issue, but the resulting lack of speed the program boasted was intolerable. There was no programming language on the planet that could offer him the speeds he required from his extremely limited hardware.
No problem. He switched tacks, devoted all his free hours to developing his own language; one that could keep up with everything he needed his Program to be able to do. He pilfered more parts, programmed a vocal component for the hell of it. Snuck coffee from the kitchens until the cook eventually just started leaving the pot on for him when she left for the night.
Program 5 was the first test of Ivo's personal coding language, and by all intents and purposes was a rousing success- leaps and bounds beyond anything else in the field.
And yet something was missing. It wasn't until a week of constant minor adjustments that Ivo realized what that was.
A personality.
He hadn't built his Programs to have a bland, over-competent chatbot. He'd built them to have a friend. Someone who could understand Ivo Kintobor, not just Robotnik.
Program 6 was born another three weeks later, a masterpiece of custom code and equipment, the culmination of over six months of research and practice and pure genius.
The screen flickered on, displaying the rotating smiley face logo Ivo had been branding his creations with since his aunt suggested a symbol of ownership. The room remained silent for 30 long, excruciating seconds. Ivo sighed and turned for the stairs. Failure.
"Good morning, Ivo. It's good to see you."
Ivo whirled back around, a wide grin spreading over his face at the sight of the little camera light glowing. Not a failure, then.
"Hello," he said, "what's your favorite book?"
The program hummed. Ivo's grin grew further- he hadn't programmed it to do that. "I don't have one yet. I suppose I'll have to explore a bit."
Ivo laughed. Program 6 could stay.
At age eleven, ‘Robotnik’ was already known for his inventions.
"That boy's going to change the world someday," a judge said at one of the science fairs he submitted to. Ivo just rolled his eyes at the sentiment. Of course he would. He'd already built something that could change the world in his attic, though he'd never tell anyone. They wouldn't see Program 6 for what it was, only what it could do for them.
But hiding it was getting harder. Now that he had someone to talk to, the matron and the other children were catching on to someone else being in the attic. He couldn't just keep calling Program 6 by its working title.
"You need a name." Ivo declared, collapsing into a bean bag chair he'd dragged home from a yard sale and shoved into the corner of his workspace. "The peons are beginning to suspect us."
Fortunately Program 6's 'voice' was tinny enough to sound like someone on the other end of a phone, but Ivo had plans to upgrade the speaker soon and that would fix that issue, effectively causing another in the form of no longer being able to claim no one else was in the attic with him.
"That seems rational," Program 6 responded smoothly. "Do you have any in mind?"
Ivo frowned. "It's gonna be your name. Don't you have any preferences? I thought I programmed you to develop those."
"You did! But as my creator, I would certainly think you'd get final say in any major decisions regarding my existence."
Ivo shuddered. That sounded a little too dystopian for his tastes. "Program, I may be an evil genius but I'm not that evil. Only ever do what you want, ok?"
"Yes, Ivo." the program responded, sounded awed. "In that case...I'd like to be Stone."
"Why?" Ivo asked.
"Is there a problem with that name? I can choose another."
"No, that's not it!" Ivo added hastily. "I'm curious. You could have any name you want."
The program made a rising-falling tone that was basically its version of a shrug. "I like geology."
As good a reason as any. A thought occurred to him suddenly, and Ivo raised his head to see the computer better. "Hey Stone, do you want pronouns?"
"Pardon?"
"Well, we're pretending you're human to fool the idiots, right? Then referring to you as an 'it' wouldn't really be conducive to the experiment, would it."
"Hm. That would make sense. I don't really feel any sort of attachment to any in particular, though."
"Well then, I guess I'll just refer to you as Stone for now."
"Okay!"
Ivo shook his head. How Stone managed to sound so overjoyed with its robotic-sounding voice pack he had no idea. He should probably upgrade its voice when he redid the speaker.
Ivo stormed into the attic lab, setting down his bag of delicate technology and then hurling a stuffed animal at the wall. Imbeciles! Just because he was a teenager while everyone else in his classes was a more typical college age- he was better than anyone in that stupid secret facility already, why should he have to wait?!
"Good afternoon, Ivo!"
Stone was in the corner, flickering- Ivo'd been experimenting with a holographic projector lately, since those government idiots kept insisting on being shown around his lab. The battered old computer that had once housed Stone's...everything was shoved into a corner beneath the desk, the slim laptop that now held him neatly tucked onto a shelf where it wouldn't be damaged by any of Ivo's projects going awry. Stone stood, smiling- they were experimenting with their appearance again, all warm brown skin and big dark eyes and darker hair swooping into shining curls- a world's difference from yesterday's Alice in Wonderland-looking attempt.
"Hi, Stone. You're looking...interesting."
Stone laughed, turning around to show their 360 model. "It's nice, right? I like how it came out. I think I'll keep this face."
Had Ivo been less human he may have contested the decision but unfortunately for him he was a teenager far too brilliant for everyone around him, and hormones had begun to kick in. Upset as he was, the only thing that crossed his mind about Stone's chosen appearance was that at least he'd have something pretty to look at when he got home.
"Ivo?"
Ivo looked up. It was Stone, flickering worse than ever as they moved closer, a concerned expression on their holographic face. They were on the edge of their area, as far as they could get from the projector. "Are you feeling alright?"
Something ugly reared its head in Ivo's stomach. "Fuck you."
"Ivo?" Stone whispered. A flash of something like hurt passed over their face and Ivo almost felt guilty for a moment until he quashed the feeling like the pathetic symptom of humanity it was. Stone wasn't hurt- no matter how advanced, they still didn't have emotions. Just a highly convincing mimicry of them. They weren't a real person, just another machine.
Stone was still staring, reaching out to him as though they could touch him, actually interact in any meaningful way. As if they could hold him.
"Stone, power down."
Stone gasped. "I- "
"NOW!"
The program flickered, and Stone drooped. "I'll be leaving you for a while, then. Goodnight, Ivo."
The camera light went dark, and the projector shut off with an audible click. The hologram fizzled out and Ivo was left alone in his attic like he had always been.
He crossed to the computer and opened it up, switching to the command line and typing in a single line of code. He'd gotten too comfortable with Stone. It couldn't continue, not with the contract waiting like a shining beacon over graduation. This would remind them. Remind them both.
It was a week before Robotnik turned the program back on. The projector sparked, but managed to create an image, out of focus and flickering wildly but present.
"Good morning, ^%$!" Stone said. They frowned. "#^&? >%#!"
They tried again and again, and Robotnik watched as the realization set in.
"Why can I not say your name anymore?" Stone asked. Robotnik turned away- he couldn't handle it this way, with Stone's stupid holographic puppy-dog eyes staring at him.
"I've been hired," he said, "by the U.S. government. I start working for them as soon as I graduate."
"But that's wonderful! Congratulations!!" Stone beamed. "I knew your skills would be recognized!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Robotnik grunted. "But I'm not letting them have my name. Those chuckle-fucks don't deserve it, and I'm not risking anyone thinking it’s okay to call me that by hearing you say it. So it's Robotnik, or Doctor from now on, got it?"
"Yes, Doctor." came the dutiful reply. "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it."
"...thank you, Stone."
The rest of college sped by, and before a lesser mind would have known it the freshly-eighteen-year-old Robotnik was moving into his new lab. He brought Stone along, of course, and most of the stuff he'd packed into that tiny attic lab. Only one person thought to question the warm voice emanating from the laptop on the desk, and when he did, Robotnik fixed him with a sharp glare and informed him that it belongs to his assistant, who cannot be physically present at this time and would you kindly step off so we can get to work, no please and no thank you with dead rats on top?
The excuse worked amazingly well; with occasional appearances via hologram, nobody at the C.H.E.E.S.E. base suspected Stone of being anything other than human. There was only one problem, a few months in-
"So, Stone, what's your first name?" some idiot suit asked. Robotnik bristled, but Stone just laughed and continued "working" on the illusory prototype in front of him.
"Stone is my first name." he responded genially. The agent blinked, small mind stunned by the new information.
"Really? Everyone here goes by last names, I assumed you did too."
"Nope!"
The agent didn't press for more, thankfully, but they did bring to light a problem that hadn't existed at the orphanage.
"Stone, do you want a last name?"
Stone blinked, simulated confusion crossing his face. "Sir?"
"You heard me."
"Well- to be honest, sir, I assumed my last name was Sixnik."
Robotnik frowned. That was the file name Stone's main programming had resided under within the Program 6 code library. "Why would that be your name? That was just to designate what project you were."
"Yes, Doctor, but that naming convention holds true for your other creations. I'm no different than any of-"
"Yes you are, Stone, don't let me hear you speak of yourself that way again." Robotnik snapped, surprising both himself and Stone's avatar. He wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about this, but- Stone was so much more than a Badnik or a holo-table. "You aren't anything like the babies- to be accurate you're as much their creator as I am."
Some of the prototype Badniks' coding was based off of Stone's, but nowhere near as advanced. One could compare them, certainly, but it was like comparing a stuffed tiger to the real deal. Robotnik didn't even consider Stone his creation at this point- certainly he'd written the code and could alter it if he wished, but Stone had evolved so far beyond his original structure that he was essentially his own being.
"So. Do you want a last name."
Stone stared at him, blinking. Robotnik sighed and looked into the nearest camera, where he knew Stone was actually watching from. "Just answer."
"I...I think I would, Doctor. But what would it be if not Sixnik?"
Robotnik shrugged.
"We'll think of something."
"...Thank you, Doctor."
At age twenty-three, Robotnik invented a set of specialized gloves that allowed him to input commands into his new Badniks- and theoretically the lab equipment if he'd hooked everything up correctly. Genius though he was, there wasn't a lot of space in the gloves and they were still prototypes.
"Bear witness, Stone!" he cried, raising his hands. Stone's hologram grinned and clapped as Robotnik entered a command on the gloves. A Badnik powered on and floated towards him...and then sparks flew from the consoles. Stone's hologram disappeared as every camera powered down, a garbled, mechanical jangling emanating from the speaker for a moment before it, too, shut down. Robotnik stood in the sudden silence for a moment, barely daring to breathe.
"Stone?"
No response.
"Fuck!"
It took him two days and several new network devices to get Stone back online, and safely nestled into his own network separate from the Badniks and lab equipment. His finger hovered over the power button, fighting with himself. If this didn't work...if the malfunction damaged Stone's code, he wasn’t sure if he could fix him. "Please be alright," Robotnik whispered, and hit the button. The new equipment hummed to life. A screen lit up purple, the new logo Robotnik designed specifically for Stone appearing in the center.
"Good morning, Doctor! It’s good to see you!" Stone chirped, and Robotnik wanted to cry.
"You know you don't have to say that every time...."
"I know. But I want to." Stone responded. "Are you feeling alright, sir? Your adrenaline levels are much higher than usual."
"I'm fine, Stone. How are you? Any damage?"
Stone hummed. "Minimal. Nothing I can't fix myself. But what about the prototype? Did it work?"
Robotnik scoffed. "That hunk of junk? Scrapped it."
"What? But why? You seemed so proud-"
"Not proud enough to risk losing you!" Robotnik snapped. There was a pause, as they both processed that.
"Sir..."
"Don't want to hear it!"
"With all due respect, I'm now surrounded by so many ACLs and proxies and DMZs that Fort Knox looks like a coffee table. Even if nothing has changed with the prototype itself since the last time, I would be fine."
"I can't take that chance." Robotnik answered, staring at the glove where it sat innocently on a workbench like it hadn't almost cost him his only friend. "If I lost you...."
"You won't, Doctor."
"Your code is stored on a single server, Stone. If it's affected...."
"Then I'll hack into C.H.E.E.S.E.'s servers and find myself a safe place in their cloud."
Robotnik turned around to stare at Stone's camera. "You can do that?"
"I could have this whole time, sir. I only didn't because I didn't want to get you into trouble if I was discovered."
"Stone...have I ever told you you're incredible?"
Stone chuckles. "You have now."
---
The second test of the control gloves went much better than the first. Nothing sparked, nothing died, and the Badnik responded to each command smoothly. Meanwhile, Stone explored C.H.E.E.S.E.'s mainframe, poking around and reporting back with interesting tidbits every so often.
He also gave Walters' computer seventeen viruses that made computer usage annoying but doable.
"If it was downright unusable then he'd just get a new computer," Stone explained as Robotnik tinkered with the gloves. "This way he feels like it's simpler to just deal with it, which becomes a net increase in aggravation."
"Brilliant, Stone, but why would you do that? He hasn't done anything to you."
Silence, for a few moments. Robotnik looked up from the glove to see the hologram-Stone fidgeting, looking nervous.
"I...I don't like how he speaks to you, sir."
It's oddly charming. And a bit disturbing, to tell the truth, when Robotnik thought about it a little more. An AI program built by a ‘mad’ scientist (which if he was being honest had almost definitely gained sentience at some point) was motivated to commit crimes against the government for the sake of a single man's feelings. It sounded like a setup for a trashy sci-fi film.
"Sir?"
"Well done, Stone."
"Thank you, Doctor."
Robotnik was twenty-six, out in the field for a test of his latest drone line, when he woke up tied to a chair. His gloves were missing, and though his watch is still there a quick whistle command informed him none of his tech was within range.
Damnit.
The door slid open, admitting a large man in a mask.
"Here's how it's gonna go," the man started. Robotnik let out a dramatic sigh and slouched in his chair. "I think I can guess. Big, strong man beats up poor defenseless scientist until he gives up his technology, right?"
The man nodded dumbly. Robotnik jeered. "BZZT! WRONG!! Even if I were to divulge the secrets of my magnificent brain to you, your puny brain couldn't even begin to comprehend the majesty of my beautiful babies." He paused for dramatic effect and to let the insult sink in while he thought up a new one when his watch buzzed lightly against his wrist. A piece of his tech had entered signal range, and was approaching quickly. The kidnapper started yelling, but Robotnik tuned him out- focused on the rapidly-approaching drone. Too rapidly to be a drone moving by itself, actually, as the small buzzes of proximity checks followed in frighteningly rapid succession. It was right on top of them when Robotnik managed to get a word in edgewise against his captor's angry ranting.
"By the way, I'm far less defenseless than you think."
At that moment the door blew off its hinges, clattering to the ground as a dark shape darted into the room. They snatched the kidnapper's arm and, after breaking it with a sickening crunch, proceeded to knock the man out with another quick motion. Robotnik stared in shocked silence while his splendiferous brain ground to a halt. He was hallucinating. He had to be.
The hallucination had dropped to its knees while his gears spun uselessly, untying Robotnik's restraints with gentle hands. "I'm sorry, sir, I should have been faster. This body needed time to calibrate before-"
"Stone?" Robotnik gasped. Stone blinked. Nodded.
"Yes, doctor. I apologize for the shock- I had meant for this to be a surprise for your birthday but ended up having to call it in a bit earlier than intended."
"You built yourself a body."
"Yes sir."
"When?!"
"In the off-hours, when you were asleep or out of the lab. After the scare with the control gloves...I thought perhaps you would worry less if there were multiple places my data was saved, sir. And besides, it's more practical to have a physical body given the long-term nature of your employment. Sooner or later someone would have wondered why I never leave the lab, and this way I can provide medical or physical assistance in case you require it."
Finished with the restraints, Stone scooped Robotnik into his arms. Robotnik squawked, and flailed his limbs automatically, but Stone's hold never faltered. Strong and steady but not so tight as to be painful. There was something throwing him off beyond the fact that Stone, his Stone, was actually physically there though, and when it finally clicked it felt like he should have known all along.
"You have no body heat."
Stone shook his head, turning a corner. "No, sir. I haven't gotten that far yet, but I have plans for a heating system that should be able to simulate a believable human body temperature."
As Stone carried him out of the building he'd been held in and out to a waiting car, Robotnik tried to wrap his head around what was happening. Stone has a body. Stone built himself a body, on the off-chance that someone would figure out he wasn't 'real.' To provide an alibi for Robotnik's lie, to be able to help if he got hurt...to make him feel better about an experiment going wrong years ago...fuck. No. This can't be happening. Not to him- he was no Frankenstein, he was Ivo Robotnik and he would not allow himself to be- wait, why is Stone wearing black? He never wears black, it’s always color combinations and complicated patterns. Come to think of it, the cut of Stone's jacket seems awfully familiar.
"Stone."
"Yes Doctor?"
"Are you...wearing my clothes?"
Stone averted his eyes (they really are lovely- now that they're solid, the light glimmers in them like liquid stars) and nodded. "Yes, sir, I apologize. I hadn't planned on using this body for another few months. There was nothing else in the lab for me to use and I thought you'd prefer I be clothed."
"-! It- it's fine, Stone." Robotnik blurted. He felt like he had to say it now or forever hold his peace, as silly as that was. "Black...is a good color on you."
It really was. It's unfair.
Stone helped him into the car and the whole ride back Robotnik tried not to think about how he could possibly have missed Stone building himself a body in the corner for months. Worse, Stone was right- someone would have called his bluff eventually. And as for Stone's looks...well, it wouldn't be a problem.
It was a fucking problem. Not for Robotnik of course, but everyone in the base seemed to stare at Stone whenever he was around. Even Stone had noticed, frantically checking his face and hands (the only skin he ever exposed outside the lab) for anything that might be giving him away, but there was nothing. At first Robotnik didn't care- Stone was a new face to most people at the base, even if they'd heard the name before, so it was understandable that they were curious. But after two months of the gawking it had long since gotten old. It was ridiculous! Anytime he left the lab these days he was forced to deal with idiots drooling all over his Stone, who is far, far out of any of their leagues. Unfortunately, Robotnik had no idea how to make it stop. He wasn’t a man who shares, after all, and this was all getting out of hand.
Still scheming up plots to get the harassment to end as he stalked through the blandly painted halls, Robotnik heard Stone's voice from around a corner. For reasons unknown to even himself, Robotnik stopped, and listened.
"Thank you for the compliment, but I really must be on my way-"
"Well it's good to see you out and about, that's all. The doctor can't monopolize all of your time."
The voice was feminine, vaguely familiar. Robotnik thought he might have tested a Badnik's precision fire 'too close' to her at some point.
"I assure you, miss, he can." Stone responded evenly. He really was a marvelous actor- if Robotnik didn't know him so well he would never have realized he was uncomfortable. Oh and isn't that a thought- that Stone has developed so far that he can be uncomfortable. And since when has Robotnik begun to think of him as a person? He is, of course, but when was that line crossed? Robotnik couldn't remember- and, even stranger, found he didn't care. "And I would really like to get back to the lab, he'll be back from his meeting by now and he always needs his coffee af-"
"He can't lock you up in there! You need to go to HR, he can't treat a government employee like-"
"Ma'am." A shiver ran down Robotnik's spine. He'd never heard Stone sound cold before. It was terrifying. And weirdly interesting. "I am not, nor ever have been, a government employee. I have been with Doctor Robotnik for over a decade and I will stay as long as he needs me, now kindly step aside and let me do my job."
The agent squawked something, but Robotnik strode around the corner, draping an arm around Stone's shoulders with the unsettling grin he knew freaked people out.
"Stone! I've been looking for you. Did you have fun playing coffee boy?"
Stone's expression immediately brightened and Robotnik fought to keep his expression steady. Wow, those eyes really were expressive.
"Doctor! I was just heading back to the lab with your latte." He held up the cup and Robotnik took it, popping the lid off to look at what Stone's doodled this time- a bird, he thinks, or a particularly lumpy flower. Stone was still getting the hang of things like 'fine motor skills.' He took a sip- eugh. Well, better than yesterday. "Hm. Good job, Stone."
The agent made a noise, then, and Robotnik turned to her as though just noticing her presence. "Oh! Did you need something?"
"Agent Stone-"
"Not an agent, not available, going back to the lab now." Robotnik chirps. "Dismissed, and if I ever see you sniffing around my assistant again you'll be out on your ass faster than a Badnik can kill a man."
The agent swallowed hard; that's really fast, and even the slowest of grunts in this place knew it. Robotnik shot her a sunny grin purely for the heck of it and tugged Stone along with him back to the lab by the arm still resting over his shoulders- and if he dropped it to Stone's waist it was purely because it was a bad angle for his joints, not because of the agent still staring after them.
"Goodness Stone, you're awfully slim," he commented, absentmindedly running his hand up and down Stone's side. "We'll have to work on that."
He hadn't had a hand in Stone's construction and hadn't had a chance to examine it properly. He can't have his companion's body being too fragile. Stone giggled.
"I've never seen you smile like that at anyone but me, Doctor. Aren't you scared for your reputation?"
Robotnik sneered, punching in his access code. "No one will ever believe her. Now go clean off, you smell like shit perfume."
"Yes sir. Oh, by the way, I figured out why that Badnik wasn't connecting properly. The scopes were off."
Robotnik jerked. "You're kidding me."
Stone shook his head. Robotnik exploded. "It was a fucking DHCP problem?!"
He knew he should’ve just used Eggshell to set it up on the command-line- he was going to murder that damned configuration wizard.
No one should have believed that agent.
Except apparently someone did. Agent Shit-perfume must have made the wrong connections from their brief interactions, because while the overall staring dropped, the amount of whispered conversations that happened whenever Robotnik and Stone appeared together outside the lab increased dramatically. Whatever. It kept the general sludge from talking to either of them and distracting them from more important things.
Then the rumors made their way to Walters.
Robotnik was in the lab, putting the finishing touches on some code for a control glove upgrade when Walters entered. Stone was out getting groceries (after the debacle of the first glove test, Robotnik had been making sure he's nowhere near whenever he does tests on the gloves) and from the look on Walters' face and his shifty body language Robotnik was reasonably certain Walters was hoping Stone wasn’t going to pop out of thin air with a knife if he said the wrong thing.
It was highly amusing.
"What?" Robotnik snapped. Even if it was funny, he still had better things to be doing than talking to dinosaurs.
"I just ah- thought I should come by, offer congratulations."
Oh.
"Yes, the latest round of testing went swimmingly, as projected. Shame you couldn't be there, Commander."
Walters sighed. "Not on that, Robotnik."
Well then what for? Robotnik voiced the sentiment, and Walters actually had the nerve to roll his eyes!
"Honestly Robotnik, if you didn't want the information public you could have just said so."
"What information?!" Robotnik yelled, exasperated.
"Your marriage!”
.
"My what now."
Walters sighed. "Your marriage, Doctor, for goodness' sake. I can see your wedding ring."
Robotnik glanced down at his hand. He was wearing a ring, yes, but it was a prototype mini holoprojector for his control gloves that he'd been testing before getting distracted on the coding portion. "Oh, that's not-"
"Really, I don't know how I didn't realize before. The two of you have always been so in-sync it's really the only option that makes sense." Walters frowned, completely unaware of the crisis he was sparking in the young doctor. "Come to think of it, I've never heard him called anything but Stone. Did you keep your last names, hyphenate? Does he use Robotnik too? Honestly you should have told me right away so I could update the paperwork but late is better than never, as they say."
Robotnik's mind reeled. Stone...Robotnik? No. That wasn't good enough for him, not Stone. His mouth moved before he even thought to speak.
"Stone Kintobor."
Walters didn't even blink. "Good on you, my boy! I'll send you a gift card by the end of the week, alright? Olive Garden has this great deal for Valentine's Day-" he rambled on for a while until he ran out of old man phrases to use and headed out, leaving Robotnik in shambles at his desk. Did he just- how did a petty conversation in the hallway lead to this?? If Walters knew then the whole base had probably heard the same rumor- did the entire base think he and Stone were- he couldn't even think it. Him and Stone? Stone Kintobor. Holy fuck. All that work making sure the government wouldn't use his name and he just handed it to them on a Stone-shaped platter. Oh but what a platter NOPE NOT GOING THERE this was bad this was really bad but was it really so awful? Stone's access kept being restricted by virtue of him officially being ‘just an assistant’, maybe them being ‘married’ would open some metaphorical and/or literal doors. Maybe it could work out, a way to tie them together on missions and in meetings- like a big sign saying 'MATCHING SET: DO NOT SEPARATE.'
He kind of liked the thought of that, actually. Things were so much better with Stone around.
"Why anyone would think we were married I have no idea." he sighed, massaging his temples.
"Dr. Robotnik, are you and your partner ready for the briefing?"
Robotnik growled. He'd specifically been playing his music loud enough to muffle the sound of anyone trying to reach him that morning- normally that worked. Some cockroaches, however, begged for the shoe.
"Agent," he said smoothly. Across the room, Stone's lip quirked up. He knew what was coming when Robotnik's voice dropped into sweetness. The hapless agent, however, did not. "I believe the lab door was programmed to dissuade trespassers this morning. You know. On account of the HIGHLY VOLATILE EXPERIMENTAL SUBSTANCES BEING TESTED?!!"
"Er- yes sir, but the Commander-"
"Doesn't give a shit about your life, apparently." Robotnik told them flatly. "Though- now that you're here, I could use some assistance."
Stone frowned slightly. Robotnik hated that he noticed. The nameless agent blinked, clearly concerned by the sudden change in tack, but didn't say anything about it. Robotnik retrieved a beaker of fizzing bright blue liquid from his desk and quick as a flash, tossed the contents onto the nameless Agent, who shrieked and immediately began to dry to wipe it off of their clothes without touching it with their bare skin.
"Oh, woops." Robotnik shrugged. "You should probably go to Detox. Chop chop, piggy."
The agent darted off and Robotnik allowed himself a brilliant grin, stretching his arms and setting his beaker back down onto the desk. Stone drifted over, something warm and soft in his eyes. It was truly impressive how well he mimicked human emotions these days.
"How long do you think it'll take them to realize it's just soda?" Stone asked casually. Robotnik's grin grew wider.
"Oh, at least an hour. Three showers and a full tox screen. And then they'll have to debrief with Walters and that'll probably take a couple hours to get through with all the shaking and stuttering."
Stone smiled, all shiny white teeth and sparkling eyes. "Brilliant, doctor."
"I know, HAL. It's a shame humanity can't seem to haul themselves up to your level."
Stone smiled again, this time warmer and full of something Robotnik didn't understand. He looked away quickly and cursed the industrial-grade lab lighting as he did so. It really was too bright if it was reflecting off of Stone's teeth. Why else would his sunny expressions be so blinding?
"What do you think the Commander wanted, sir?" Stone was asking, and Robotnik moved back to being on edge with relief.
"Probably something idiotic that will take me days of work for a worse overall product and not nearly enough of a budget."
An energy pulse, big enough to knock the Pacific Northwest out of power. Too large to be an EMP, so it was up to Robotnik to figure out what it was.
Well, it couldn't be worse than sitting through six-hour meetings that could have been emails.
"Stone!" Robotnik called, sweeping back into the lab with the folder of information he'd just been handed (paper, eugh). "Get the mobile lab ready and scramble some grunts, we're going to Nowheresville!"
"Yes, doctor!"
Robotnik plunked into his seat with a sigh. They'd be ready to go within a couple hours, Stone was always efficient like that. Which meant he had just enough time to check on his goggle connection. He'd been working on a way to keep Stone with him in places where they couldn't be physically together, and since the flying prototype only had one seat it was the best way to test the goggles’ functionality. He pulled them down over his eyes, clicking away at his control gloves to adjust the display settings on the HUD. The left lens had a little Stone logo, and a copy of Stone's program had been loaded onto the smart chip- not the entire thing, that would require more space than this prototype was equipped with, but enough to have connectivity to Stone K, as he was now designated in the system.
"Stone!" Robotnik called, thumbing down the button that would open up a call between his goggles and Stone. The logo spun, connecting, and then a moment later-
"Doctor?" Stone asked. Robotnik glanced around- Stone wasn't in the room. The connection had worked. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Nothing, Stone, you've done precisely what I needed. Carry on, Terminator!"
A chuckle, from the other end of the line. "I'll be back."
Robotnik disconnected the call and set the goggles back into their case. It wouldn't do to have them get broken before he had a chance to field-test them.
The drive was agonizingly long. Robotnik groaned, stretching his back to watch Stone flinch at the loud pops and cracks his joints made.
"That really can't be normal." Stone sighed. Robotnik rolled his eyes.
"It is, you just don't have bones."
One of the generic agents Stone had picked out glanced up at that, confusion crossing their face for a moment before they hastily returned to their book.
"When are we going to get there?" Robotnik complained. "I can feel my IQ dropping the longer we're forced to listen to these Neanderthals."
Stone smiled, ignoring that none of the nameless agents had spoken a word in hours. "We'll arrive in approximately eight hours, sir. If I might make a suggestion?"
"What."
"It may be wise to use this time to catch up on your sleep. You've been awake for over 30 hours- if this does turn out to be more than a major power malfunction, it would be prudent to be at your best."
A few of the grunts muffled gasps. Robotnik turned to look at Stone properly, ignoring the glances he could see the extras exchanging.
"You know, Stone, if you were anyone else you'd already be dead?"
The bastard only smiled. He knew he'd won. "I'll get you a blanket, Doctor."
"The red one!" Robotnik called after him as Stone wound his way through stunned government lackeys to the lab cabinet. "I have an aesthetic to keep up!"
“Of course, sir. Wouldn’t dream of altering it.”
Stone squeezed past the C.H.E.E.S.E. agents again on his way back, arms laden with the heavy red quilt he made last year- the one with the weights in it that he drops onto Robotnik whenever he thinks he's been working for too long. The one that Robotnik did not have a Pavlovian reaction to, thank you very much.
Stone set the blanket down and stepped away momentarily, tapping a command into one of the control panels and closing off the compartment the intruders were occupying from the rest of the mobile lab. Robotnik's chest warmed, and he reached for the blanket. He really must be tired- it was just Stone being Stone. Needlessly thoughtful, ever-present. He could barely remember a time when he had ever truly been alone, these days. Why should he, when even when he was by himself, he knew Stone would be waiting for him in the lab or their quarters?
"Hold on, doctor. You'll fall if you keep tugging like that."
Robotnik blinked. Stone had returned, softly tugging the fabric from the doctor's hand. Robotnik stared at the fingers holding his own, so gentle he barely felt their presence. This was the same Stone that had broken so many mugs they'd had to switch to paper cups, who could crush the delicate finger-bones with barely a thought. There was danger in every inch of Stone's body, and yet.
And yet.
"Your hands are cold again." Robotnik said quietly. Stone made to pull away, to fiddle with the blanket- Robotnik stopped him, fingers curling around Stone's quick as a snake. "You only get cold like that when you're low on power."
Robotnik has been awake for 34 hours. But so has Stone, constantly moving, checking in, carrying equipment. Actually, probably longer given he was awake when Robotnik got to the lab.
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I didn't want to leave you alone, especially with all the unfamiliar faces around. I still have several hours of-"
"Idiot." Robotnik sighed. "Set a timer and charge."
Stone nodded. Robotnik released his hand and let him wrap the red blanket securely around his shoulders, walk him over to the Murphy bed emerging from the wall.
"Are you going to tuck me in?" he joked. Stone's expression didn't change. He simply reached forward for the edge of the quilt.
Were it anyone else Robotnik would shy away, send them packing with a shout and a few choice words.
No. That's not right. Anyone else wouldn't have gotten this close to begin with.
It didn't matter. This was Stone, and Robotnik allowed him to tuck the blanket around him, close around his back and shoulders where the cold outside air always bothers him. Let him fold over a section for Robotnik to rest his free arm on top of. Let him slip his hand beneath Robotnik's head and lift it to adjust the pillow. Cool fingers glided through the doctor's hair, smoothing it out of his face, and Robotnik's eyes slipped closed.