Chapter Text
"...Happy Sonic-Day to you! Happy Sonic-Day to you! I made you chili dogs, you're my best dream come true-?!"
Amy stopped her singing, the jaunty tune coming to an abrupt end in her throat. The voice, her voice, so clear and innocent, free of pain and regret; it sounded familiar yet alien at the same time.
Stranger still, it felt as if she had been thrust into a scene already in motion; a moment in time that had passed so long ago. The air was crisp and cool, the gentle breeze felt pleasant blowing through her quills. And the sun high above shone brightly, cascading a warmth that made her skin prickle with gooseflesh and fur to stand on ends.
Gripped in her delicate hands was a large tray of chili dogs, freshly made and wafting with a tantalizing smokey scent of succulent stewed meat expertly seasoned with a fragrant mix of spices. The delectable aroma tickled her nostrils, sending a bolt of nostalgia straight to her brain.
But most unsettling of all was the individual standing in front of her.
Sonic the Hedgehog.
Not just any Sonic, not a variant, not that phony who had manipulated her for his own selfish game, but: her Sonic.
The love of her life, the apple of her eye.
He was her world, and he was alive.
"Err... Amy? Earth to Amy?" Sonic looked bewildered as he spoke, his melodious voice tugging at her heartstrings like they do, like they always do. She maintained her heated gaze; the sight of him leaving her speechless, made her knees feel weak and belly to dance with butterflies. She wanted to burn the image of his entire self into her memories out of the paranoid fear of losing him all over again.
It was only when he started snapping in front of her face, his features contorted in concern that she snapped out of her stupor and finally replied.
"Um... er, I-I..." Amy stammered, unable to formulate a coherent sentence. The plate of chili dogs in her hand suddenly felt too heavy as she struggled to keep her wits about herself and process the situation she found herself in.
She remembered this moment all too well. It was the hopeful prelude to the slow methodical twisting of her soul that directly led to the sudden madness-fueled murder of her beloved. A cold chill ran up her spine as the painful memories came flooding back, holding her captive where she stood. There were too many questions going through her mind and no answers to assuage her anxiety.
"You're spacing out on me. Did you forget your lines or something?" Sonic quipped, hoping the air of levity he brought would make things less awkward for the both of them. He tapped his foot impatiently, the familiar quirk warming Amy's heart. When she couldn't come up with an answer Sonic simply shrugged his shoulders and gave up.
"Look, Amy," he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Don't take this the wrong way. You've clearly put a lot of work into, uh, whatever this is, but if you're gonna just gonna stand there in front of my house with a big tray of steamy chili dogs gawking at me like I've grown a second head then I think I'm just gonna return to what I was doing before you bothered me. I'm busy, after all."
Amy responded with a slow loaded nod, her body reacting on its own.
"Great!" he exclaimed, smiling slyly as he quickly snatched the tray from her hands. "Although, I'm not going to say no to free chili dogs. Lemme just take these off your hands. Cool? Alright, catch you on the flipside, Amy! Hope you work out whatever it is you're going through!" he concluded as he hastily retreated into his home, slamming the door in front of Amy's face and leaving her all alone with her disorganized thoughts.
Silence descended soon after, slowly draping over Amy like a heavy cloak. The velvet caress of the wind swept on by, her quills and dress fluttering animatedly as it did. The world felt like it had stopped turning, or at the very least slowed to a crawl, it gave her time to think. After several minutes of standing still as a statue amidst the contemplative quiet the world steadily reasserted itself for her and she found her voice.
"What... What's going on?" Amy whispered, her eyes frantically darting too and fro.
She carefully observed her surroundings; she was back in Green Hill. The familiar sights and sounds were so overwhelming; the animal noises permeating from the nearby forests, the rolling green hills and valleys that made up the picturesque landscape, the picnic blanket filled with presents she had painstakingly prepared and the sagging sign hanging above. It was all there verdant and alive, as if she had never condemned it to devastation in the first place.
Amy was home, back when she belonged.
She quickly turned her gaze upon herself, looking up and down along her hands, arms and legs. Her fingers were dainty and free of vicious looking nails. Her shortened limbs were free of the dull pulsing ache that never seemed to stop, lacking the grotesque collection of jagged mottled scars and haphazard stitching that held her together like a limp mannequin. Even her fur seemed brighter and full of shine, no longer dulled by the stain of so much spilled blood.
Hesitantly, Amy stepped over to one of the windows on Sonic's home and stared deeply at the reflection looking back at her. She saw the face of an innocent young girl of youthful beauty who still had hope in her starry eyes, free of blemishes or smeared with a dark layer of makeup like a depraved harlot.
This was her true face, of the girl who was defined by her love for all things.
She brought a shaking hand up and tentatively traced the contours of her cheeks and lips in utter fascination, as if she was seeing it for the very first time.
Amy stumbled backwards once she felt satisfied examining her face, which now bore a quizzical expression as she struggled to make sense of everything going on.
"I don't understand," she mumbled, "Why is this happening?"
"...Perhaps I can be of assistance."