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If Robotnik and his relationship with sleeping can be described as a fierce war between two bitter enemies, than the doctor’s relationship with dreaming is that much more ordinary in comparison.
He does not hate dreaming; he rather thinks it could be a more enjoyable part of sleeping (if he has to sleep).
It is simply that he is so incredibly bored by his dreams.
His dreams are always vivid and lifelike (no wonder, given his eidetic memory and sharp mind) every single detail captured during the day time play back in a sharp rendition. It could actually have been entertaining to watch it play out in high definition like movie, if only his subconsciousness wouldn't have focused on such utter drivel. Examples included: Days from the time he was still working for the government, and the boring meetings he had to attend there. His stay on the mushroom planet is featured often, as well. Or, more recent, the explosion of the robot whole a gold-glowing hedgehog tears it apart and sends him falling to his certain doom.
All of those are things he had already seen, and thus it makes him mentally roll his eyes whenever his dreamscape decides to assault him with old news and water under the bridge. True, dreams are a way to process what happened during the waking, but he is Ivo Robotnik, most genius mind in history. Surely he does not need to rewatch things, playing in his mind over and over again like reruns of old soap operas, just to deal with it? He is very capable of processing everything during the day time, thank you very much.
At least sometimes, his subconsciousness decides to mix up things a little, go a little off-script, so to speak. Sometimes, in his dreams, he never makes it back from the mushroom hell, and slowly loses his mind during the stay there until he thinks himself just one of the many mushrooms like the ones growing all around him. Another time, the fall from his beautiful, toppling creation ends a little less lucky and the last thing he hears before waking is the sound of his own neck breaking on impact.
Morbid as it might sound, at least those times, he can not already predict the outcomes. Those dreams are almost entertaining, he tells himself.
To make matters simple – Robotnik is very much unimpressed with all of his dreams and considers them an utter waste of time.
So, when one evening, he falls asleep in a hotel room and next thing he knows the image of an entirely different place appears in front of his inner eyes next, he almost sighs out deeply in his sleep. Well then. What is it this time, he asks no one in particular, preparing for a boring rendition of past events once again. Mushroom planet or defeat by the power of friendship?
Granted, the first look he can take at his… surroundings seems to rule out both of those options. To his mild surprise, he seems to be back at the Mean Bean Café, the place trashed and illuminated in haunting green light just like it had been the last time he saw it in person.
Nearly intrigued now, Robotnik decides to see where this goes, settling in for the ride. Through the eyes of his own dream-self, he watches lightning arch around his hands, forming shapes and sounds at his behest. That had actually been kind of fun, he reminiscences, to feel like the whole world lay at his feet and he could do whatever he wanted…
“...Doctor?”
The dream interrupts his thoughts and dream-Robotnik turns already while the real Robotnik is already processing why the voice sounds so familiar, thought warped with… fear? That is not correct, he argues in his mind even when he turns around fully in dream and sets sight on Stone; because of course it is Stone, he had been there, but he had not been afraid. Or, well. He had seemed a little worried, granted, but worry is not the same as fear. Even someone who is terrible at managing emotions like Robotnik is aware of that.
But this Stone, this dream-version, is most certainly afraid. He is standing in front of dream-Robotnik (he had been sitting! How inaccurate can you get!) with eyes full of terror while he backs away from the genius slowly, hands visibly trembling. He is not just afraid; he is afraid of Robotnik.
This is idiotic, Robotnik scoffs, deciding then and there to take over the dream and set some things right here. But the dream version of him is faster, laughing loudly, cruelly, and raising one hand wrapped in lightning in a casual wave – a dismissive gesture, a goodbye – voice otherworldly and devoid of any kind of sympathy when he speaks against his will, “Dismissed, Stone.”
Green lightning flashes, so bright it turns nearly white, swallowing up everything - the entire coffee shop, Stone with his wide, terrified eyes, and the scream which sounds from either Robotnik or from his agent-
And Robotnik has seen quite enough .
With sheer willpower, he ends the dream by force and rips himself awake. He snaps awake and catapults upwards in bed, finding himself in an upright position in the blink of an eye, breathing heavily, heart racing. Involuntarily he pulls a face. The process of waking himself up by force is never a pleasant one; his mind might be in control of the dream and his waking, but his body is much slower to go with the program, still in the middle of experiencing an imagined stressful situation and working out the sudden shift between sleeping and reality. Annoyed by the dream and his own useless body, Robotnik curses internally even while he takes measured breaths, forcing his lungs and his heart to slow down again. To help with the disorientation, he starts listing up time and place he is currently at - Paris, the middle of the night, in the king sized bed they shared during their stay here. He is not in Green Hills. He is not in possession of the emerald any longer. All that happened weeks ago.
Just when his body finally seems to catch on and calm down again, there is rustling next to him, sheets being moved around, and a quiet, though clearly worried voice asks, "Doctor?"
It is the same voice as in his dream, and for a startling, irrational second, Robotnik's heart stumbles once more in his chest, recalling green and fear and he had been afraid of him, hadn't he-...
Gritting his teeth and forcing his thoughts into order like unruly soldiers, Robotnik grinds out a simple, "Water." as a means of explanation while he swings his legs out of bed. In the dark and his hurry, he fumbles a moment before he finds the cane he has been using to help with his broken leg, and he needs two attempts until he is on his feet and can stride towards the en-suite bathroom as quickly as he can.
The door slams closed behind him and the bathroom lights flicker on. As soon as he is alone, Robotnik turns on the cold water tab and flings the freezing liquid into his face with both hands. The cold makes him nearly gasp aloud, but it also helps waking him up fully.
It doesn't slow the beat of his thrumming heart or the trembling in his limbs, though.
With a growl, Robotnik looks up at himself in the mirror, slamming his open palm against the reflective surface with a slap. "Pull yourself together!" The hiss is dripping with venomous anger for the pale face he sees in the mirror, the haunted eyes. Ridiculous. He is Ivo Robotnik. It takes more than a nightly trip through his subconsciousness to knock him off balance.
Unless.
Unless, maybe, it brought up yet unanswered questions.
Robotnik pauses and goes over that again. If this was a message from his subconsciousness, then it is because this past event is something he has not been able to analyze, sort and put to rest until now. Instead of getting angry about it, he will simply help the process along by doing that right now, and then never to be bothered by those memories again.
On purpose now, he recalls those events, correctly this time - conjures back up the feeling of the emeralds power flowing within him, endless and wonderful; puts himself back into the Mean Bean and the situation he had found there. Like a movie set to rewind, he goes through the events until he reaches the one he has been looking for, the one from his dream, and there, he hits the mental stop button and freezes that picture in time to analyze it.
Aaand there. Right there, crystal clear, he can make out fear in Stone's eyes while he is looking at him, Robotnik. Not even the green lightning reflected in the agent's eyes can hide it fully.
The sight makes something twist unpleasantly in Robotnik's belly and he scowls deeply, blinking his vision into focus again so his gaze is no longer turned inside. Frowning at his reflection, he ponders that revelation - or that memory, more like. It had not seemed important back then, with everything else going on, bit now... it bothers him, Robotnik realizes with a blink, scowling even harder. It bothers him that Stone might feel fear, because of him. Especially since Stone is never afraid. Heck, he has seen the agent get held at gunpoint, muzzle of the gun at his temple, and all it had gotten out of him had been an annoyed eye roll. So to think that Robotnik might be the cause of real fear there is... is...
Well it is inconvenient, Robotnik decides finally, after briefly clamoring for an explanation for the knot in his belly. Awe, respect, those are all emotions from Stone towards him which he is alright with, has come to expect even, but fear? When he does not even know the reason for it? No that cannot stand. It might hamper their working relationship!
He will need to get to the bottom of this, and he already knows how. The man who can give him the answer straight from the source is only one door away, after all.
Without giving himself the time to weigh the pros and cons of his strategy, he slams back into their room with all the force of a storm let loose, crossing the room in great steps. He only realizes that he left his can behind when his healing leg gives a sharp twinge and sends him stumbling a few steps forward. But he won't let himself be derailed now of all times, so instead of going back to get it, he pushes through the pain and makes his way over to the bed again, aiming for the other side of it this time, the one still occupied by a body. He doesn't care to check if Stone is still awake or not; he will be soon enough. As soon as his knee h its the mattress he lets himself sit down heavily and reaches with both hands for Stone, manages to get a grip on him in the half dark, and shakes . "Stone!"
"Wha-...?!" A splutter sounds from the vicinity of the pillow and hands grasp for his own to stop him, but Robotnik merely grunts and holds tight onto a shoulder and an upper arm; all he has managed to grasp in the dark. Seemingly realizing that he will not be able to make him budge physically, Stone starts talking next, sounding more awake by the second, "I'm awake, I'm awake! Doctor, what is going on?! Is there an emergency?!"
Is this an emergency? In a way, yes. So Robotnik comes straight to the point, now that he is sure he has gotten Stone's attention, "Are you afraid of me?"
instead of a quick, efficient answer like he had hoped for, all he gets in answer is – silence. Stone stills entirely, does not even move underneath him anymore for a beat or two, before there is rustling, and the lamp on the bedside table clicks on. For a moment, Robotnik is blinded by the sudden brightness, blinking harshly and ripping one hand back to shield his eyes.
Opposite and half beneath him, Stone does not look to be faring much better. He is blinking owlishly up at his boss, eyes tired and hair a mess from sleep. He looks mused and soft in a way that gives Robotnik pause, briefly derailing his thought process from the matter at hand – at least, until Stone asks, incredulously, “What?”
What, what? Robotnik blinks, forcing his thoughts back into order (the rate of bed-hair on his agent is very much not the focus right now, thank you very much ) and frowns. It is unusual that he has to repeat things for Stone, since the other man is sharp and attentive enough to follow the doctor’s wildly jumping thought process to the genius’ satisfaction at least ninety percent of the time. Even he has just been woken up and could thus still be disoriented, the obvious confusion on Stone’s face is still odd, since as a trained agent, Stone usually wakes up fully and with all his mental capacity at the ready in the blink of an eye. He must have startled him directly out of REM phase. As slowly as he can possibly manage in his impatience, Robotnik repeats, "Are you afraid of me?"
"I - what brought this on?" Luckily enough, stone seems to catch on that the doctor is beyond waiting right after the question is out, and tries again. "No, of course I'm not afraid of you!"
Hm . Said a little too loudly, voice going a tad higher at the end of the sentence, but that could still be surprise rather than hints for a lie. Robotnik grunts, comparing that statement with the memories he had pulled back up. The picture is still fresh in his mind - Stone's eyes full of worry, the way he had gone startle still when emerald-powered Robotnik had pushed into his personal space.
The data does not add up with Stone's claim, and Robotnik clacks his tongue impatiently, twirling one end of his mustache between his fingers while he thinks. "Data shows different, Stone. Want to try that again?"
“Data shows – what-…?” for a moment, Stone only sputters, clearly trying and failing to keep up. Then he pauses, screwing his eyes shut, and takes a deep, long breath. Gathering himself. When he opens his eyes again, they are sharper and clearer. "Doctor," there is forced calm in his voice, professionalism he clearly doesn't feel right now. "Clue me in here, please. What data, exactly?"
Even as impatient as he feels, jittery ever since waking up forcefully, Robotnik can admit that it seems fair to update him on the details so that they are both talking about the same thing. It would make the result of this conversation that much more accurate. Of course he remembers the exact date, day, and time of the events, but he is fairly sure Stone with his less brilliant mind wouldn't, so he settles for a quick summary of the events. "Mean Bean Cafe. I had acquired the emerald and came to pick you up."
"Mean Bean-..." If anything, Stone appears more confused by the additional information, eyes widening briefly before narrowing thoughtfully. "What brought this-...?"
Almost in slow motion, Robotnik watches uneasily as Stone figures it out - because his agent is brilliant in his own right, even in the dead of night and when caught completely off-balance. In rapid succession, Stone's thoughtful gaze flicks between Robotnik and the other, now empty, side of the bed; analyzing the mused sheet and the doctor's frenzied state. Understanding dawns, and the former agent's mouth opens briefly in an O of surprise before his eyes snap back to the other man's, blinking rapidly. "You had a nightmare."
Instinctively, Robotnik pulls a face at the term. It is so base. So human. Waking up from an unrealistic and unpleasant scenario and having to fact check reality is something so plebeian, it is far below a man of his status. It is not what he is doing now. He is merely checking to see if he can still count on his assistant's loyalty after receiving new Input. Impatient, Robotnik snaps his fingers in front of Stone's nose. " Focus , Stone. Answer the question, and this time, with the truth, if you will."
Some of the tension loosens from Stone's shoulders and he sighs, pushing himself up onto his elbows and then further, until he is sitting with his back against the headboard, on eye-level with Robotnik. With a barely suppressed yawn, he rubs one hand over his face, shakes his head. "I already did.”
“Did not.”
“Yes, I-…”
Robotnik tuts, and wags his finger at him, before tapping the very same against his own temple. “Did not! I remember it, clear as day, Stone. Alleviated heart rate, muscle tension, widening of your pupils – you were afraid. Don’t try to deny it.”
“I was, perhaps, worried, yes,” Stone amends, and hah, finally, they are making some progress! But despite the agreement, his voice is firm when he adds, “But I was, and have never been, afraid of you, doctor.”
At the firm declaration, Robotnik feels his muscles relax – and notes, surprised, that he is experiencing relief over this information. Huh . But, well, obviously. It wouldn’t do to have his agent work at anything but at hundred percent of his capabilities, just because fear of his employer was slowing his thought processes down.
Satisfied with this conclusion, Robotnik nods slowly to himself… only to realize half a second later that this cannot be it . The relief is instantly replaced with ire when he notices it. See, this is why emotions are a hindrance , he grouses to himself; he had been so busy being relieved that he had nearly missed the fact that Stone had confessed to feeling worry, yes, but had not explained at what the worry had been directed at . Frowning, he goes over their conversation again, looking a miscalculation on his part. It had not sounded like Stone was lying, but where had the agent managed to omit…?
Ah . Robotnik nearly slaps a hand to his forehead; he must still be half asleep to be making such a basic mistake. He wasn't wrong ; He had simply asked the wrong question . "Fine. What were you afraid of, then?"
He can tell the he got it right this time by the way Stone stills entirely, and he smirks, triumphant. Gotcha . "Well? Out with it."
This time, Stone's sigh sounds decidedly weary when he rubs a hand over his jaw, glancing at Robotnik from the corner pf his eyes. "And I have permission to be frank here?"
"I'm basically ordering you to be." Robotnik narrows his eyes at the man when he stays silent, and reaches out to slap at Stone’s knee. “Don’t get shy on me now, Stone.”
Stone mutters something under his breath which sounds decidedly impertinent, but Robotnik decides to let it slide for the time being; there are more important things going on here, right now. Like the obvious defeat in Stone’s posture when the man sighs deeply, rolls his eyes toward the ceiling as if to pray for patience ( rude! ) and starts explaining haltingly, "When you came to save me" pick me up , Robotnik corrects mentally, because come on, as if Stone couldn't have gotten out of that situation himself, pft , "I was, admittedly, mostly afraid for you."
Now that brings Robotnik’s ever-racing mind to a grinding halt and he kind of – stops. Blinks. Blinks again. Until he finally decides that, no, he had heard that right. “Afraid for me?” Of all the things he had imagined in the span between waking from his not-nightmare and now, this is decidedly not it. “What for?” Robotnik demands, torn between surprise and an abject kind of offense at the notion that there had ever been a point where worry had been necessary. “At that point in time, I was in control of the master emerald! I was at the top of my game! What strange and faulty kind of logic did you follow to come to the conclusion that you had to be afraid for me? ”
To his credit, Stone does not back away in the face of the doctor getting progressively louder and more animated in his offense. The agent merely waits him out until Robotnik has to take a breath before he intercepts, “The emerald was exactly why I was worried about you, doctor.”
Another brief stopping of his racing thoughts, and Robotnik postpones any further rants, demands instead, “Explain.”
“You had just fused with an energy source of incredible power which we knew basically nothing about,” Stone launches into explanation obediently, rubbing at his tired eyes while he recounts the events from his point of view. “There could have been side effects, for all we knew at that point. And, I’m sorry to say this, but you were behaving rather – different, when you returned.”
Strange , hangs unsaid in the air between them, but at least Stone is aware and awake enough to not tempt his luck by calling the doctor strange or freakish. Not that he ever had, Robotnik allows silently, before returning to the matter at hand and musing over this new information. True enough, he had been a little… shall he say, high on power , right after fusing with the emerald. The sheer influx of data bearing down on him, the feeling of power energizing him and allowing him abilities beyond his wildest imaginations… it had all been incredible and dizzying and he had been ecstatic with all of it. He could, in a fit of generosity, allow that from an outside point of view, his new appearance and behavior might have seemed… somewhat concerning, if one did not have all the data.
Especially if that someone is Stone, he reflects, and a small snort slips out before he can help it.
“Doctor?” Stone perks up a little at the sound, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“It is just like you,” Robotnik explains, waving his hand about while he rolls his eyes without real annoyance, “to worry about me, when the risks I take are perfectly calculated at all times.”
The smile breaks free, curling Stone’s lip while his eyes flash; there is something he wants to say but doesn’t, and Robotnik immediately has an inkling that it might be about risks and how bad he is at calculating them when he has his sight set on a certain goal. Barely biting back a grin himself, he shoots Stone a look, attempting for sternness but suspecting that he fails . “Whatever you wanted to say right now, delete it from your mind.”
The answering cough sounds suspiciously like a laugh aborted at the last second. “Right. I was going to say that worrying for you is kind of my job.”
“Sure you were.” Robotnik does not even make the smallest attempt to hide his eye-roll, both because he sees through the terrible lie and because Stone had always gone far beyond his job description to ensure the doctor’s well-being. Calling it merely “his job” is an inside joke by now, surely.
Stone grins openly this time. He is relaxed, now; sinking down lower into the pillows again, limbs loose and posture softening a little. Apparently he is sure that R obotnik is not taking too much offense that he had called his behavior odd, or that he had worried about him.
Now that most of the frenzied energy driving him has passed, Robotnik really gets to take in the sight of the other man in the warm light of the nightlight, stripped off his perfectly cultivated posture and mused and soft from recent sleep. His eyelids seem heavy, and just as Robotnik is looking, he bites back another yawn, running a hand through his hair and spiking it up even further. He looks ready to fall back asleep. More than that, he looks terribly human , like this; something which should have bothered Robotnik immensely, given he despises humanity in general, but the doctor finds himself not minding it in this case. Rather the opposite. Ever since their escape from the crash site and their impromptu vacation ( laying low , part of him insists), he has gotten rather fascinated with the sight of Stone like this, open and vulnerable. It seems a privilege he is being handed, here, and his mind eagerly catalogs and memorizes every single instance of a more casual Stone, saving the images in the deepest recesses of the doctor’s mind for… whatever purpose. He doesn’t know exactly what for , but he guesses it will do no harm, either, so he lets it happen.
Lets it happen so completely, in fact, that he misses that Stone has been talking to him, apparently. “...-tor?”
“Hm?” Robotnik blinks, snapping back to attention. Ah. How long has he been staring?
“I asked if that answered your questions,” Stone clarifies for him, thankfully not questioning where the genius’ mind had wandered off to this time around. Explaining that would have gotten kind of weird, even for them.
“Hm.” Robotnik tilts his head, considering the question while he replays their entire conversation in his mind, going over every single thing carefully and thoroughly while Stone waits patiently. Yes, on first glance, the question which had been, apparently, plaguing his subconsciousness had been answered to his satisfaction. There is nothing which…
Wait.
He reaches a certain sentence – a single word, really – which Stone had used which gives him pause, causes him to reassess his conclusion. Now wait just a moment.
Narrowing his gaze, he snaps back around towards Stone, demanding, "What else was there?"
"Hm?" Stone seems to startle, gaze which had dropped down towards the mattress a little longingly snapping back up. He is trying to look surprised, Robotnik can tell, but his eyes flicks briefly to the left before meeting the genius' gaze again, and the tell is as loud as if he had screamed it. He knows exactly what the doctor means.
"You said mostly , sycophant," Robotnik points out, mercilessly. As if that would have slipped his attention! Never mind that it almost did; he caught it in time. " Mostly worried for me. What other reason was there to be worried?"
Now it is Stone's turn to pull a face, shoulders tensing while he looks anywhere but at Robotnik. "Well..."
"Out with it, Stone, or I swear to you we’re going to be here all night going back and forth over this."
the threat is not an empty one, and Stone knows it, too, grimace deepening while he flinches. "... You will likely consider the second reason disgustingly human in nature, doctor." He sounds hesitant, almost pleading, as if he is hoping that Robotnik will drop it. "Very irrational."
"It wouldn't be the first time you reminded me of your nature, Stone,” Robotnik waves it off, ignoring the underlying plea. As if he would drop this now. “Spill the beans."
A pause follows where Stone is clearly fighting an inner war with himself, eyelashes flickering and jaw working quietly. Barely reigning in his impatience, Robotnik taps his fingers against his thigh, waiting for his assistant to remember that resistance is futile once the doctor has tasted blood.
Finally, Stone gives into the inevitable with a deep sigh and tilts his head back until he is looking at ceiling rather than the doctor when he grinds out, „I was afraid you would leave me behind.“
Had Robotnik been surprised by the first confession, this one goes way beyond mere surprise. He is well and truly gobsmacked right now, too perplexed to even fall into the rant he had mentally already been gearing up for. For a moment, he can only open his mouth – and close it again, because no words will come to mind.
The ironic thing is that he does not need to speak anymore, right now. His silence seems to be enough to get Stone going; or perhaps the agent had simply kept this hidden for so long that it now comes all spilling out of him at the first real chance. Whatever the case, Stone is downright rambling when he explains, gaze still glued to the ceiling and not meeting Robotnik’s eyes, “You said it yourself: At that time, you were at the top of your game. Which, well, considering that your usual game is already far out of my – out of everyone’s league, just means that you were out of this world, at that point. Not to mention that you had just acquired what can only be described as phenomenal cosmic power. You could have done anything, with only a single thought. And you did not need anybody’s help for it.”
For the first time since he had started talking, Stone stops, takes a breath. He very briefly glances down at Robtonik, who is still watching him quietly, stunned, before licking his lips and glancing away again. “You certainly did not need my help for it anymore, so I was… worried. That you would realize that.”
Silence descends between them, safe for their quiet breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets when Stone shifts slightly, clearly uneasy with how much he had just spread out in front of the other.
Robotnik, on the other hand is for once at an utter loss for words, except imbecile.
That is all he can really think, on a loop, louder and louder with indignation. Imbecile. Stupid. Idiotic.
How could Stone even for one second think he would-….?!
Already in the middle of opening his mouth and tear into Stone for thinking, no matter how brief, something so truly idiotic … Robotnik suddenly pauses, reassessing the statement.
Because. It isn’t really idiotic. The logic is sound, he has to admit. Supernatural beings with neigh omnipotence do not really have need for assistants, do they? Not even to do the dirty work. Or to prepare lattes for them. All of that could have been done with a single thought and a spark of energy. There are no henchmen needed when you can do everything in the time it takes you to form a thought.
Despite that incredibly logical fact, it had never once crossed his mind to not go and get Stone. It had simply seemed right to have him with him.
Slightly stunned by that revelation which comes so very late - well, he had been preoccupied with hedgehog crushing and world domination- Robotnik latches onto that new fact with abandon, turning it over in his mind, poking, prodding and picking apart. At the time, having Stone at his side had seemed like an integral part of the plan. No, not only the plan; it had seemed integral in general. Huh.
Well, he reasoned, Stone is always at his side. His presence is... familiar. His work precise and well done. He laughs at the doctor's jokes, and is excellent at managing his temper. His awe and praise of the doctor's work is not needed, but still very much appreciated.
Memories of a planet of mushrooms flash, briefly, before his inner eyes and Robotnik pulls a face. If that had been a taste of what it meant to not have Stone by his side anymore, then-...
He doesn't need Stone. Never had, not really.
But, needing and wanting are two very different things, after all.
And, apparently, the second one proves very much true in this situation.
It's more fun when he is around, a little voice, smaller but also louder than the rest of his very logical mind, points out firmly.
There is more, he is sure of it. The enormity of the fact that his first wish as the new master of the emerald had been bring me to Stone could certainly not be explained with simple fun . But. It seemed a good base reason from which to further analyze his own... feelings ( bleugh ) at a later date. Right now, he is very aware that Stone is still waiting on any kind of reaction from him; had been ever since admitting his fear. Robotnik glances up to find the former agent watching him carefully, face admirably impassive. Had he been a lesser man, he surely would have been gnawing bis lips or twiddling his thumbs nervously. As it is, with Stone being Stone, only a twitching muscle at his jaw gives away his tension.
"Your reasoning is, as so often, incomplete at best, sycophant," Robotnik finds himself saying, very nearly making Stone jump; there is a spasm in the man's arm that gives it away. "By your logic, I would abandon you as soon as your services are not explicitly needed anymore. Well, news flash, Stone - they were never explicitly needed. Everything task you handle for me, I could easily invent a machine for which could ten times faster; that would not only be way more efficient, but machines would also have the added bonus of never disagreeing with me."
While he speaks, Robotnik watches carefully and closely how Stone reacts. He thinks a little over eight months ago, he wouldn’t really have been able to detect the very brief flicker of bone-deep hurt which flits over Stone’s face before the man catches himself with a tiny exhale and smooths his features back into impassiveness. He also would have missed the way Stone voice has a hollow timbre to it when he answers, stiff and court, “I know, doctor.”
"Very good,” Robotnik nods. Just had to make sure that that that is understood; it is vital in order to fully grasp the weight of what he is about to say now. He hesitates briefly, considering if he really wants to lay this much bare for Stone to see, before he takes a deep breath and continues, “Because if you do know that, then you're surely aware that I still made you my assistant and decided to keep you around" came back for you "despite all the factors speaking against it. From that alone, you should be able to deduce that, while not necessarily needed , you... and your services.. are at least wanted ."
It is fascinating, to watch the way Stone’s face changes in the opposite direction this time. At first there is a flicker, a blink, then the impassive mask hiding his thoughts cracks wide open when he raises his gaze to stare at Robotnik, listening with his mouth slightly open. By the time the doctor finishes (fingers rubbing together behind his back while he wonders if he said too much ) Stone’s face is like an open book to him, slowly transitioning from perplexed surprise to awe and from there, straight into a truly brilliant smile which could easily have lit the room on its own.
While satisfied with this outcome, Robotnik still clears his throat ( not uneasily, never ) when Stone stays silent for too long, and snaps, “Is that understood , Stone?”
“U-Understood, doctor.” there is only the slightest hitch in the answer – a slipup Robotnik cannot really pinpoint, but since Stone is still smiling, it cannot be because of a negative emotion.
“Good. Do try not to forget again.” Deciding that that was quite enough of soul-baring for one night, Robotnik frowns, changing subjects quickly, “Also, did you quote a children’s movie at me? Phenomenal cosmic power? Really now?"
"Well...yes.” If anything, Stone’s smile only widened, turning into something teasing, amused. “You recognized it."
“Well.” Caught red-handed, Robotnik reels briefly, hand flying up to tug at his mustache while he grumbles,"I must have picked it up in passing. You know how good my memory is."
“It is excellent.”
“Hm.”
They fall silent for a bit, but it is a comfortable kind of quiet. For once, Robotnik feels like he is slowing down, instead of overthinking and planning and plotting at a speed ten times faster than everyone else.
This, too, is something he probably could not achieve around a machine, he ponders. Stone's presence is... calming.
“Are your questions answered now, doctor?” Stone asks after a while, voice gentle. If the earlier questioning had upset him somehow, the feeling is long gone now.
“I do believe they are, Stone,” Robotnik agrees after a brief pause. All in all, he had gotten more answers than he had had questions, and learned a thing or two about his agent on top of it.
"Do you think we could go back to sleep now?"
"...Hm." Sleep had been the last thing on his mind ever since waking up. A brief glance to the watch gleaming on Stone's wrist tells him that it is still early hours, not even four yet, but it is doubtful that he will be able to sleep again now.
Stone seems to guess so as well, since the man makes a sound in his throat which sounds like half-laugh, half-sigh. "... You're wide awake now, aren't you?"
"Don't complain," Robotnik sniffs, going for haughty but feeling more defensive. "It is a miracle already that I slept this long. If anything, you should be grateful I didn't wake you earlier."
"That wasn't a complaint," and it really does not sound like it is, Robotnik thinks, it sounds more a little bit like... fondness?
Slipping to the edge of the mattress and getting up, Stone makes his way over to the bagpack he has been using during their stay here, neatly put away in a corner between table and wall. "I bought a traveling chess while on my morning run today... or, yesterday, by now." he explains while digging through the contents of it, voice muffled while he searches for something. "Thought it could help pass the time. Might as well use it now, right?"
"Chess?" Robotnik feels his eyebrows jump up and he straightens, intrigued. "You play?"
"I dabbled, once," Stone answers demurely, resurfacing with the board in his hands. He sounds little too demurely, Robotnik thinks, narrowing his eyes at the other man. But, damn that man and his poker-face, from this distance and with Stone outside of the bedside table lamp's warm gleam, the doctor cannot tell if the other is downplaying it.
"First I learn that you speak French, now you play chess," huffing, Robotnik gets too his feet, wobbling only slightly on his bad leg, and limping over to the table to help clear it so they can set the board up. "What else are you hiding from me, sycophant?"
"No hiding," Stone smiles briefly up at him while he sets the board down and begins to set up the pieces. "You only have to ask if you want to know something."
"Mhm," Robotnik hums thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. He might just take the other up on that, in time.
Letting himself drop down in the opposite chair, the doctor watches with laser focus while Stone goes about setting up the board. Because of that, he catches the former agent twice when he tries to suppress a yawn. With startling clarity, Robotnik remembers that while Stone might be able to put up with his hellish schedule most of the time, it does not mean in any way that his assistant is as used to sleep deprivation and insomnia as he is. And he did just wake him up from a deep sleep with a barrage of question. The thought makes an uncomfortable feeling churn in his guts, one Robotnik does not particularly care to analyze, and he stands up quickly, determining that he has to do something about this.
Stone looks up, a little startled, when the doctor pushes past him. "Doctor?"
"You're clearly not able to put up much of a fight in this state," Robotnik snaps while starting up the coffee machine he had demanded as soon as they had rented the room. "A little caffeine will hopefully remedy that - somewhat."
There is a strangle little sound in his back, almost lost in the noise of the machine running. When he glances over his shoulder, he thinks Stone looks a little dazed. "Are... you making me a coffee right now?"
"Astute observation, Stone." Rolling his eyes, Robotnik pulls the full cup out and sets about adding the sugar. "Really now, are you sure you're even up for a game, if you're already struggling with simple observations-..."
"It's just that," Stone interrupts, something he does rarely, but he cannot seem to help himself when he blurts out, "You have never done that before. I didn't think you would know my usual."
Already in the process of carrying the cup over, Robotnik nearly stumbles, pausing sharply to glance down at the cup in his hand as he if he sees it for the first time - espresso, black, two spoons of sugar, his mind supplies for him. And he is sure he had gotten it right, too; only now that Stone mentions it, he is stunned that he did . When had he paid attention to how his assistant took his coffee?
"Well." Robotnik declares loudly ripping himself out of his stupor to cross the last distance and slam down the cup with just the right amount of force to make an impression, but not spill it. "It is not like your preference is particularly complex , Stone. And, again - brilliant memory."
"Of course," Stone answers, clearly on autopilot while he takes the cup mechanically. His first sip is so incredibly tiny and careful that Robotnik tenses with it, waiting uneasily for... something. When it never comes, whatever it is, he demands sharply, "Well?"
Seemingly unbothered by his outburst, Stone takes another sip before smiling up at him, that brilliant smile which lights his face and the entire room around him. "It's perfect."
"Of course it is," Robotnik rolls his eyes, absolutely not relieved, and plops down in the chair again, arms crossing. "Again. Brilliant memory. Make your move, you're on the white side."
Stone only hums, taking another slow, measured sip of his coffee while drawing a piece forward with his free hand. Robotnik follows up with his own move, barely looking at the board with how busy he is monitoring Stone's enjoyment of the simple cup of coffee. For a moment or two, only the sound of chess pieces moving and quiet slurps in between can be heard.
It is only when Robotnik manages to look away from his agent and really look down at the chess board that he notices something is going on. Studying the few pieces which have already been moved, Robotnik blinks, doing a double take when it dawns on him that the setup is already starting to look like an opening which a beginner in the game could not have possibly known.
Looking up at Stone sharply fighting to reign in his smirk while he narrows his eyes, he accuses, " Dabbled , you said."
Stone's smile is a crooked thing, so overly innocent it is already teasing again. "A long time ago. Go easy on me."
With a thrill, Robotnik realizes that this game could actually be an interesting, a challenging one. And you dare to think I would leave you behind, he finds himself thinking with a startling fierceness, momentarily thrown by the force of the thought. Shaking his head to clear it, he reaches for his own pieces, a smirk curling his mustache. "As if. Prepare to be demolished, Stone."
"Looking forward to it, doctor."
Drawing his piece forward into position, Robotnik glances up from under his brow, taking note of Stone's reaction in the face of his (playful) threat. The former agent looks utterly relaxed, chin propped up in one hand, smile playing around his lips while he sips his coffee slowly.
He looks as far removed from fear as one could possibly get.
Satisfied, Robotnik directs his own grin down at the board, and makes his move.