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alphawave-writes · 5 years ago

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Experimental Design Chapter 4: Actions have consequences

Synopsis: Stone reminisces on his past, and how he came to become Agent Stone. Robotnik gets the bright idea to get handsy with a collar. Feelings ensue.

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Actions have consequences. That was the first thing Stone was taught back in school, long before he was given the identity of Stone. As a child, Stone wasn't too different from his adult self, with a few exceptions. The most blatant one of all was his utter disregard for any and all authority figures. But in his defense, it was utterly hilarious to see Teacher Deidre try and wobble over to chase him, her big gangly arms wafting with the breeze. Teachers had words to describe people like him. He was too nice to be a bully but too much of a nuisance to be a good kid. He was kind and friendly to his peers and his family, but showed absolutely no consideration for his teachers.

Thus, he was labelled a 'troublemaker'. For a boy with no future goals in mind, it suited him well enough.

There was one victim above all else that young Stone liked to tease. Mr Khoury was a new science teacher in his school, with slicked back hair and a wide grin and a crazed look in his eyes. As a teacher he was OK—this was his first job as a teacher and so he was still a little wet behind the ears—but it was the experiments he did during break time that awarded him his reputation amongst the students. As a son of a chemical manufacturing giant, he was able to get easy access to all sorts of chemicals and materials for his experiments, and then some. He'd mess with chemicals in bunsen burners. He'd steal compost and seeds from the school garden to experiment on the plants. More often than not, he'd make sculptures and robots from scrap metal that he fished from the school's recycle bin.

He may not have been the best teacher, but there was no denying that he was incredibly and devoutly passionate about science. That made him the best target for pranks, Stone thought.

It started small. Stone would steal little things from Mr. Khoury when he wasn't looking. A piece of scrap for his experiments, the fancy gold pen on his desk. But of course, it quickly escalated into hiding all the valves for the bunsen burners and locking the room and drawing silly stuff on his classroom's whiteboard. The best moments were when Mr. Khoury caught him in the act and tried to chase after him. He'd laugh, just a silly little kid enjoying the moment as he ran and ran, glancing behind his back to stare at his teacher's flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead. Mr. Khoury was slow compared to Stone, so sometimes he’d let himself get caught. And then he let himself get caught more often. One time, instead of taking him to time out or detention, Mr Khoury forced the young child to help him with his experiments. And then he became an active participant. He claimed it was just to observe his teacher, and in a sense he was. He remembered Mr. Khoury's quiet look of concentration, the glitter in his eyes and the fire that burned deep in his soul. He remembered it so well that those looks stained his dreams, making him feel fuzzy and warm and happy.

It all seemed so fun and idyllic. Until one day, when Stone found Mr Khoury clearing out his desk.

“But I don’t understand,” the young Stone said. It was another lunch break, and he was expecting another experiment. Instead, Mr. Khoury was packing up his stuff, his normally calm face twisted into a scowl. “You didn’t do anything. You can't be fired.”

“It’s that incompetent headmistress," Mr Khoury said. "Her and her backwards views of the world, of progress. It’s only because of her that I have to go.”

“But why?”

“I’m…” Mr Khoury pouted, then turned to young Stone. Behind his glasses, his eyes were dark but focused, a swirling and shimmering vortex. “Will you keep this a secret between you and me?”

He nodded obediently. His chest felt light, knowing that his teacher trusted him so much with such an important secret.

“I’m married.”

Stone frowned. He wasn’t surprised, Mr Khoury was very good looking for an adult. Or at least, he thought he was. His friends didn’t agree. Then again, most of his friends were boys like him. “Is that a bad thing?"

“To another man. I'm married to a man," Mr Khoury replied.

Stone tilted his head in confusion. "That doesn't sound like a bad thing."

"It's not, but of course your headmistress seems to think otherwise, the troglodyte," Mr. Khoury spat. "Not all love is equal in this society. People of walks of life are expected to fit into society's expectations of love, and when you defy it, you’re punished.”

"I love someone," Stone blabbed. His small eyes widened, his hand instinctively reaching up to cover his lips. He didn't mean to say that. Not to Mr Khoury of all people.

"Oh? Who?"

Young Stone looked away shyly. A small chuckle escaped Mr Khoury's lips, gracing his sharp features with a rare softness.

"I'm flattered, but I'm afraid you're a bit too late. Five years too late, to be specific," Mr Khoury said.

"Most people say it's just a childhood crush," he quietly admitted. "They don't think it's real."

"All love is real, to some extent. It's the same neurotransmitters firing in our brains whether it's a fictional entity or a real person, someone close to you or someone that's completely and utterly unattainable." Mr Khoury smiled. "Perhaps you do have a childhood crush, but if you learn from who you love, and why you love them, maybe you'll learn a little bit about yourself from these experiences."

He nodded slowly, a frown playing on his young and childish face. He knew nothing would ever happen between them, even if Mr. Khoury stayed at school forever. In the presence of someone greater and better than him, why would they ever fall in love with someone so weak and dumb?

Mr. Khoury's face sharpened. "You've learned something from this experience, have you?"

He nodded. "I did."

"Perhaps not everybody in this school is a complete idiot," Mr. Khoury said, rubbing his hand through the kid's short hair.

He stared up at his teacher's face. He did not know how or why, but something in his gut told him that this would be their last conversation ever. "I'll be smarter," the young boy continued. "I-I'll be better than smart. I'll be strong and cool and smart, and I won't let bullies tell me off."

In all his life, he'd never seen Mr. Khoury smile like this, soft and gentle like his favourite teddy bear. It shouldn't suit his face, and yet it did, this rare moment of softness transforming him into another person, a better person. In the reflection of Mr Khoury's eyes he saw his own expressive face, wide and beautiful. A selfish thought popped into his head, of someone looking at him with the same adoration that he looked at Mr Khoury. It couldn't be anyone. It had to be someone great. Someone brilliant and smart, who saw the world in a way no one else did, who'd grant him the kindness of letting him be by their side.

It didn't have to be Mr Khoury, but someone like him. Someone just as great and brilliant.

"Tariq?" Mr Khoury asked.

"Stone!!" Robotnik yelled.

Stone jolted in surprise, turning his head to the source of the sound. In the present, Dr. Robotnik was glaring at him from his usual spot behind his desk, his stubble peeking out a little bit more than usual.

Stone put on a smile. "Sorry, sir?"

"I was going to ask you to do something, but it seems your mind is filled with ridiculous nonsense. What is it? Did you suddenly remember that red and blue paint combine to create purple?"

"It's nothing," Stone handwaved. "Just remembered something. Nothing important though."

But Robotnik didn't seem convinced. "You've been staring into space a lot lately. Do I have to get your brain checked?"

Stone blinked rapidly. From anyone else it was an insult, but from Robotnik it sounded almost like concern. "If you're talking about the nightclub incident, I'm fine. What about you, though?"

"Obviously I'm fine," Robotnik scoffed. "Unlike you, I haven't been affected whatsoever. My superior intellect means I do not get inundated by such insignificant things like death, and dildos, and other miscellaneous things in that category."

Except that was an obvious lie. Since the nightclub incident a few days ago, a few things had changed between them. For one, Senator Willingham didn't take too kindly to being tortured, so they needed to keep a low profile for now, which meant more hours being by Robotnik's side. Robotnik in turn had devoted more time to his research, working late into the night to work on a mysterious new project he'd concocted. Normally the doctor was eager to talk about his experiments, but when Stone tried to ask this time, Robotnik would stiffen and clamp up, pretending not to hear him.

And then there were those...other moments.

They were insignificant in the grand scheme of things but Stone took care to notice the insignificant things, because in his line of work nothing was ever insignificant. The twirl of a moustache, the way the doctor chewed on the very tip of his gloves, the snap of leather gloves to the doctor's pale but firm wrists, the way he licked his bottom lip all too slowly when he was deep in thought.

It was earlier that day, as Robotnik scratched and itched at a red rash growing at the base of his stubble-lined jaw that Stone realised he had been staring at his boss for a whole ten minutes.

It wasn't polite to stare. He was sure if Robotnik actually paid attention and caught him, he might have been given some form of punishment. But then that only made Stone think about his punishment, and what Robotnik would do to him. If Robotnik made a threat, he always followed through on it. It could be any day now, perhaps even today, that he'd be punished. But usually Robotnik was rather swift with his threats, claiming that it took precious time away from his experiments. So why was Robotnik delaying it? Did he forget, or was he planning something big? If it was something big, why was it big? Would it be painful or humiliating, mild or serious?

Would Dr. Robotnik glance down at Stone with that heated gaze once again, ready to take whatever he wanted from him? Was Stone willing to give his boss whatever he wanted?

Stone glanced at his reflection, only to see a wide, excited smile grace his features. He clamped it down, trying to relax his face into a more normal smile. He was not getting excited about getting punished. This was just the adrenaline talking, or maybe that newly-discovered kink of his. This had nothing to do with his boss.

Robotnik waved his hand frantically in front of Stone's face, making him blink.

"You're doing it again, Stone," Robotnik said.

"I-I'm sorry, sir."

Robotnik stood up from his chair and dramatically took a step forward, closing the distance between their bodies. With his gloved hand, he pulled Stone's face up, forcing him to look into Robotnik's cold, dark eyes. "What's going on in your mind?"

"Nothing," Stone said quickly, even as his eyes glanced down to Robotnik's salt and pepper stubble. He always wondered what that'd feel like on his hand. Would it feel different on his lips?

"It shouldn't be nothing. There should be something to fill that enormous head of yours," Robotnik cradled Stone's head roughly, as if looking through his eyes to see his dark, festering mind. "Perhaps there's something wrong with your head after all. The neurons aren't firing, or perhaps your frontal lobe just isn't responding to stimulus."

A strange thrill grew in Stone's chest as a smile grew on his lips. "Wouldn't it be the parietal lobe that's not working? If I'm not paying attention?"

Robotnik's eyes widened for a second, blinking rapidly as crimson fury crept up his face. Stone was correct, and they both knew it. In an instant, calm and logical Robotnik was unraveling at the seams. It always entertained Stone, seeing his boss lose that carefully crafted veneer of his and the madness and the brilliance peek through.

"You know, I never got to punish you for your insubordination the other day," Robotnik purred, a predator sizing up its prey. "Perhaps I've been a bit too lax with you recently. You should be taught more...discipline."

Stone couldn't stop smiling even if he wanted to. Something about that crazed look in Robotnik's eyes made him feel bold and cocky, as if he was the one in charge and not the man with the army of robots at his disposal. But that was silly to entertain, especially given how tightly Robotnik was holding his face. "How would teaching me discipline help me with my head?"

Robotnik chuckled darkly, exposing a bit more of his throat. They were almost nose to nose, so close he could almost taste the doctor's sweat. This was the moment Stone was all too familiar with, the charged energy building between their bodies, rising and rising, only striking when Robotnik so commanded. This was the moment when Robotnik's breathing increased and his pupils dilated and his cheeks went a gorgeous rosy pink. It made him look ridiculous. Human.

Gorgeous.

Stone sharply inhaled. Oh god, he didn't think that, did he? Not about his boss. Not about Ivo Robotnik.

"Stone," Robotnik said.

He couldn't stop staring at Robotnik's pink lips. Were they always so kissable?

"Get down on your hands and knees," Robotnik ordered.

To his credit, Stone did it all without shaking. Whether he would hypothetically shake from fear or excitement, Stone didn't know anymore.

"Stay there, and don't move an inch.," Robotnik said, disappearing for a short while to grab something from his desk. That act alone limited the possible punishments he might be given. What did Robotnik have planned?

He heard Robotnik's steps approach him. "You can move your head up now."

Stone did, taking his time to let his eyes trail up Robotnik's legs, torso, neck,before finally resting on Robotnik’s devilish face. In his hand was something circular but thick, wires and electronics sticking out of the fabric interior. It resembled a dog collar, but it was much thicker and wider than a normal one, with strange wires surrounding it. But Stone didn’t remember Robotnik owning a dog.

Stone gulped. It couldn’t be…that wasn’t for him?

“Don’t move a muscle,” Robotnik commanded.

“Sir, this is unconventional.”

“Oh, but you’re an unconventional man, Agent. I thought I was dealing with a government lapdog with a modicum of intelligence. But you’re so much more than that, aren’t you?”

Stone went silent, keeping his face neutral. Robotnik chuckled darkly as he undid Stone's tie, letting it drop to the floor. His lithe, leather-bound fingers traced the sensitive skin of his neck before clamping the collar on. It wasn't tight, but it wasn't loose, as if it was made for him.

"I must admit, you keep stumping me. There's no records about you. Nothing about the man you were before you became Agent Stone, what school you went to, your parents' names, whether your mommy tucked you into bed or not. Even I couldn't find anything." Robotnik leaned forward. "I find that very strange, Stone. Or whatever your real name is."

"Ben," Stone said quietly.

"Huh?"

"Ben Stone. My name," Stone swallowed tightly. "And as for everything else, I graduated the academy top of my class, I kept getting transferred to too many schools when I was a kid, my parents' names are Ali and Mary, and my mom tucked me into bed every night until I was 12."

"I've read your file—or should I say, I've read Stone's file. I know all about your cover identity. You're supposed to be an obedient little dog with a gun. And you know what happens to dogs that don't do what they're supposed to do?"

Robotnik pressed his thumb to a button on his gloves.

"They get a little shock."

An electric current rippled through Stone's neck, making him gasp, more in surprise than actual pain. It only lasted a second, but it was enough for all the muscles on his back to firm up in attention.

"Does it hurt?" Robotnik grinned.

Stone let out a chuckle. "You'll never hurt me, doctor. We both know you can't."

"Wrong answer," Robotnik said.

An another electrical current at a slightly higher voltage. Enough to make Stone wince, but still far from painful. It all but proved Stone's point. The doctor could take the air out of his lungs, but he was always careful never to harm him.

Robotnik crouched down so he was face to face with Stone. His smile was condescending, but not completely malicious. The doctor was far too excited to be that cruel. "You're going to be wearing this collar all day. If you slip up even a little bit, I press a little button on my glove and you'll get shocked. The more times you slip up, the longer the electric shock lasts. I'll take it off when the shift ends. No earlier, no later. Understand?"

Stone stared at Robotnik for a few seconds, taking in those flushed cheeks and eager grin. This was a test, Stone realised, and he was the sole participant. Was the doctor's plan to reduce his will? To make him beg? Robotnik would love to see that, it'd stroke his massive ego even more, but Stone would never give him that satisfaction. He'd do many things, but not everything. It'd take away the fun.

Another chuckle escaped from Stone. Robotnik's lips thinned into a line. "What are you laughing about?"

"Don't I get a reward for this?" Stone smiled devilishly. "If I'm a dog, I deserve a treat for behaving, don't I?"

Robotnik smirked. "And why should I give you anything?"

"To reinforce behaviour. After all, isn't that why you put a collar on me?"

Instead of laughing, Robotnik scoffed sharply, the corner of his lips pulling up against his will. "Perhaps." He stood up suddenly and went to his chair. It spun approximately 70 degrees before Robotnik placed his feet down, grinding to a halt. "You know, Stone, all this talking and moving has made me thoroughly parched. A nice latte with steamed Austrian goat milk sounds like it'll do just the trick."

They both knew that the coffee machine was in the breakroom for the other guards, on the opposite side of the compound where the mobile lab sat. The chances that Stone would be seen wearing what was very clearly a BDSM collar were fairly high, but there was just as high a chance that the person who caught him would report it to both their superiors, and Robotnik wouldn't have that. This was just another one of those games of 'Simon says' that they played. A dare to see how far Stone could be pushed.

Stone slowly stood up, stuffed his tie into his suit pocket, and gave his most award-winning smile. He always liked a challenge. "Of course, sir," he purred.

Robotnik's cheeks seemed to get redder, but if he had something to say Stone didn't hear it as he opened the door and strolled outside.

Whether it was Stone's luck or some other supernatural force, the base was surprisingly empty given the time of day. Not that there weren't people, but the few he did pass seemed far too engrossed in conversation to notice him walking past. All the better for him. Less questions asked, less answers he needed to give.

In the breakroom were two coffee machines: one that was used fairly often and one that wasn't. Stone went to the latter, preparing the coffee beans (a special blend of his own creation based on a South American recipe) and steaming the goat milk and making the foam. The resulting latte is rather sweet, with a chocolate-y aftertaste. Not everyone's cup of coffee, but Stone liked it, and Robotnik loved it. It definitely earned him a few brownie points when he first came into the doctor's services.

Stone had just finished making a latte for the doctor (and of course one for himself because why not?) when he heard someone call out his name. "Stone?"

He turned his head, letting out a breath when he realised it was Agent Jared Aird: low-level government agent and high-level weirdo. In other words, the closest thing to a friend Stone had outside of Robotnik.

"What's up?" Stone asked.

"Someone's looking for y—" Stone winced suddenly as an electric shock hit him. Aird's eyes flickered between the collar and Stone’s expression, the dots connecting slowly but surely in his mind. "I, uh…OK then. I'll just talk to you later."

Stone stifled the need to explain himself. He didn't need to make this more embarrassing. “You said someone's looking for me. Not the doctor?"

"No, they're looking for you specifically. Or at least…it sounded like they were talking about you. Described you to a T."

"Name?"

"Called themselves Lara Stein." Before Stone could comment, Aird said, "Obviously a pseudonym. We’re pulling ID checks on her though. Should take at least an hour." Aird glanced at the collar and coughed loudly into his fist. "I'll just…tell her to come back later."

Stone didn’t know a Lara, or anyone that could be looking for him specifically. Not many people knew of Agent Stone, as part of the whole cover identity business. He shook his head. "Tell her to come after my shift's done, please. And, uh…don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t, I won’t, we all know the doctor is a freak. But a shock collar? Bit kinky for his tastes.”

Stone let a frown slip. The doctor was strange, but certainly not a freak. He was a genius with limitless knowledge, unburdened by the expectations of society, but no one else saw him like that. Everybody thought he was dangerous. Everybody thought he was crazy. Not Stone though. Stone knew the doctor was just a drama kid with a need to please. Dangerous men weren’t capable of such innocent, child-like smiles when they tinkered away with their machines. Crazy men didn’t see the world with such fascination and awe.

Times like these reminded Stone that he might literally be the only person in the world who liked Robotnik, let alone tolerated him.

Stone forced a chuckle. “He’s certainly gotten some weird ideas lately. But I’ll manage.”

“I hope so,” Aird muttered with concern.

The trip back was equally uneventful, with even fewer potential witnesses. By the time he got back to the mobile lab, Robotnik was sneering at him, stamping his foot for dramatic effect.

"You're seven minutes late." Robotnik snatched the latte out of Stone's hand and took a sip. His face, as it often did when he drank Stone's coffee, softened considerably. "At least the coffee is the correct temperature this time. Nearly scalded my tongue yesterday."

Stone smiled warmly. The only compliments he ever got from Robotnik was for his coffee. Not that he minded. He made some damn good coffee, and any compliment from Robotnik was worth its weight in gold. "You're welcome, sir."

The rest of the day went surprisingly normally, give or take a few electric shocks here and there when Stone looked like he was daydreaming again. Robotnik did little to hide how much he enjoyed the way Stone twitched in surprise, catching him off guard. Even when Robotnik left to get a quick snack, his presence could still be felt on Stone' throat. The collar tethered him to the doctor, a physical mark of his servitude. It was sobering, realising how far he let himself get subjugated by Robotnik's whims, to the point of humiliation and shame. This was just the start, and if Robotnik got any more crazy ideas from BDSM, this might not be the last time he'd be punished like this. No more 'pin yourself to the wall'. It'd be 'get down on all fours and bark like a dog' or 'lick my shoes'.

He saw his wide grin in the reflective walls and forced himself to stop smiling.

When Robotnik came back, he continued his usual work on his computer, stopping every now and then to quiz Stone on the collar and how it was working. After Stone answered, he would then ask him to write it down anyway. The first two times, Stone did it without question. The third time, Stone felt brave enough to ask Robotnik why he wasn’t taking the notes himself if he was so much smarter. He glanced over his shoulder, ready to ask, only to realise that the doctor was already behind him.

"Sir?"

Robotnik was silent as he turned Stone's chair to face him, his normally expressive face toned down into something that almost looked soft. He clicked a few buttons on his gloves, and then fiddled with a strap on the collar. It opened up easily, sliding down and off of Stone's neck, before gently being dropped on the nearby table.

Stone rolled his head slowly, frowning at the stiffness. The cool air felt so much colder on his now-sensitive neck, which was in stark contrast to the hungry flames in Robotnik's eyes. He felt like those women in those B-tier horror films, waiting on bated breath for the vampire to sink their teeth into his neck and make him feel the most writhing ecstasy.

"Does it hurt now?" Robotnik asked, his voice suddenly quiet. Unsure.

Stone glanced at the clock. "Is it time already?"

"Clearly you need to get your eyes checked as well," Robotnik huffed. He grabbed Stone by the jaw, twisting and turning his head to observe his neck. He let out a small tut. "There's a few spots of redness on your neck. Was it from the collar?"

"It didn't hurt," Stone said. Which was partially true. He was aware of a faint itchiness but they weren't painful. He got shot with a blank to the stomach once. No pain could compare to that.

"You should have told me. Or written it in your report. You have seen me work, you should know by now the importance of writing down every single observable detail for data collection."

Robotnik slowly tugged at the tips of his gloves, pulling them off his hand one by one. It was a simple act, done without show or boast, and yet somehow it was the most erotic thing Stone's ever seen Robotnik do. Stripping away his gloves felt no different from watching him strip away his clothes. The way he folded up his gloves so neatly, those dexterous yet thick fingers moving so freely now that they weren't bound to their cloth prisons. And the way they moved, gently tucking the folded gloves into one pocket before retrieving a small jar from another, was an act that was far too intimate for a scientist and his agent. And yet Stone stared at Robotnik, his neck exposed and his cheeks flushed, wondering if this was a dream.

The cool sensation of Robotnik's lotion-covered fingers on his neck quickly told him it was very much real.

"Doctor?" Stone breathed.

"Let me work," Robotnik replied, sounding out of breath himself.

"What is this?"

"It's just lotion from the supermarket. Won't cure the redness right away, but at least it shouldn't distract you any more than you've already distracted yourself."

This felt wrong, just as much as it felt right. There had to be a reason Robotnik was being so nice as to rub lotion on his neck. There had to be a reason why those dark eyes seemed so warm and brilliant. There had to be a reason why he was leaning in, drawn in to the dark fire.

"I'll ask this for the final time. Is there anything else about the collar that was uncomfortable? The fabric, the voltage, the tightness. Anything at all?" Robotnik dabbed his fingers and let his fingers dip lower, near Stone's nape.

It took all his willpower not to sigh or gasp. This didn't just feel good. It felt great. It felt amazing. How could one man's touch feel so amazing? "Why are you so concerned about whether the collar hurts or not?" Stone asked quietly.

"I'm going to be making improvements for next time. Obviously, I don't want it to harm my best agent."

Stone chuckled, if only to disguise the warmth creeping up his chest and dipping to his limbs. His smile must have been big and wide, but Robotnik was still applying the lotion with the kind of careful touch he usually only reserved for his robots. Best agent. The doctor thought he was the best. He was getting excessively giddy from those two words alone.

"Everything's good, doctor. Perfect as always." He smiled. "Have I been a good boy then?"

The question didn't register for Robotnik for several seconds, applying the lotion before stopping, his fingers paused near the tight ball of Stone's throat. He blinked rapidly, glanced up into Stone's eyes, then turned his head away abruptly. "You have, for once." He cleared his throat loudly. "You're lucky I didn't punish you firmer. I was hoping the collar would have more…observable results."

What was this energy floating between them? What was this urge to get closer? Their noses were almost touching and their breaths were fusing and it was making Stone dizzy. Despite his position, despite the creative punishments Robotnik could dole, he felt powerful. Like he could lean in and purse his lips and do whatever he wanted without consequence.

"So does that mean I get a reward?" Stone breathed.

Robotnik smirked. "You're not getting any more sick days from me."

"I wasn't thinking sick days, doctor."

"Oh? So what were you thinking? What's going on in that microscopic mind of yours?"

Stone pretend to think before grinning. "I'll let you decide, doctor. You're the genius."

Robotnik had stopped massaging the lotion, putting it back in his pocket and wiping his hands on Stone's jacket. His eyes were unfocused as he continued to stare at Stone's neck, as if scanning him for his blueprints, looking for weaknesses. It was so uncharacteristic and so firm that Stone wasn't sure he'd refuse any command Robotnik would give him. If he was asked to strip, he'd do it. If Robotnik bit his neck like a vampire, he wouldn't refuse. He'd do anything if it meant Robotnik stared at him like this, like he mattered, like only he mattered.

Was this really a punishment kink, or was there something more to what he felt? Did his feelings for the doctor perhaps run deeper?

Did Robotnik perhaps feel the same?

A knock on the door took both of them by surprise. Robotnik had stood up, quickly snapped his gloves back on, and pressed a couple of buttons. The security feed for outside flickered on, the edge of a white skirt flapping in the wind near the entrance. A woman in a white business jacket and skirt came in holding a file. Her eyes flickered around the room before narrowing on Stone.

"You must be Tariq," she said. "My employer has been looking for you."

For a second, time stopped, a bevy of uncomfortable, horrific memories surfacing. Then, in a flash, Stone had rushed forward with superhuman speed and punched her square in the face. She went out cold in an instant, her nose ruined and bloody, bruises already forming near her cheek where his knuckles had connected with the facial bone.

"Stone?!" Robotnik yelled. "What in tarnation is going on?"

He didn't react, instead searching the woman's jacket for something, anything. A file, a USB, an incriminating something or other. But nothing. Just her ID, and a card at maximum clearance level, the same level as Robotnik's and Stone's. The mysterious Lara Stein. Robotnik's legs seemed like jelly as he wobbled over to his desk and hurriedly typed away. Lara Stein's name was compared through hundreds of databases, but there was no one high enough to have maximum clearance. He tried to go through every filter, every database, too fast for Stone to comprehend, but even he knew that there'd be nothing.

There was another knock on the door. Robotnik grabbed Stone by the shoulder and said, "Don't do it," but Stone shrugged it off and readied his handgun. The door opened, and Stone pointed his gun at the person who opened the door.

Behind that person was a swarm of G.U.N agents, all pointing their weapons at Stone. He recognised a few of them. Sarah, Flores, Jacobs, they were all here, and they were all blank and emotionless like dolls, or mannequins. A pity he couldn't reacquaint with them under better circumstances.

The person at the door shook his head casually. His military-buzz cut had now gotten a bit longer, and his face was sagging, but Stone knew this man all too well.

"Still shoot first, ask questions later, huh, Tariq? Or should I say, Agent Ben Stone?"

Stone flicked his gun off safety. "My primary job is to protect my current charge, Commander. If you do anything to him—"

"Didn't you hear? We want to talk to you. Or, well…you would've heard it if you haven't bashed that poor girl's head in." He glared at Robotnik. "We only want to talk to Tariq."

Robotnik's eye twitched. "I am Dr. Ivo Robotnik. I've caused more wars than you’ve sired fatherless children. If you think I will—"

"Who do you think has been giving you those orders?" The Commander interrupted.

Robotnik's eyes widened. "You can't be…b-but the Commander is just some stupid character from a John Wick movie. "

"Doctor…" Stone warned.

"You are not touching my agent without my express permission,” Robitnik continued. “And since you've been so nice as to introduce me to your inferior weaponry, I shall introduce you to my means of destruction."

Stone grabbed Robotnik by the wrist, just as the turrets and sentires activated. He squeezed hard, hoping to the heavens themselves that Robotnik realised how serious this was. The Commander wasn't just any man. The Commander was a dangerous man who knew thousands of ways to kill and torture people. The Commander had a hand in every major war operation from the US since 9-11. The Commander had informants all over the globe, and was considered utterly untouchable.

The Commander was the man who taught everything Stone knew. And if someone was on his bad side, hell hath no fury.

Stone pressed a few buttons on Robotnik's gloves and the turrets and sentries deactivated. "I'll be back shortly," Stone said as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and holstered it.

"Stone?"

"Wait for me," he said.

"Don't you dare go," Robotnik's voice warbled. "T-that is an order, Stone. You won't like me when you disobey me, so don't—"

But Stone stepped out of the mobile lab and toward the Commander. Neither of them said a word, because there was no need for them. Stone knew the Commander too well to not know what he wanted to do, and he was not going to disobey the Commander. As he followed the Commander and the G.U.N agents out of the compound, the man known as Agent Stone disappeared, and a different man emerged—identical and yet different—to take his place.

Actions have consequences. That was the first thing Stone was taught back in school, long before he was given the identity of Stone. When the headmistress initiated a slam campaign after Mr Khoury left, slandering him as a pedophile who liked young boys, nobody expected it to go viral on the internet and get him taken to court on criminal charges. She was a white lady with a respectable career and numerous connections, whereas Mr Khoury was a relatively young teacher who had yet to make his mark on the world. His family wanted nothing to do with him. His husband could only provide moral support. Legally, he was on his own.

No one would imagine a little kid like him to have that much pure anger and rage, to punch and kick and win in a fight against an adult. It didn't matter that she had started the fight by slapping him on the face for providing evidence to refute her lies. It didn't matter that he was trying to protect himself. It didn't matter that his parents whole-heartedly supported him, and even helped him retrieve the evidence. In the end, he was expelled, and his school record was completely tarnished. Mr Khoury was declared innocent solely due to lack of evidence, but no one would ever hire him again.

It'd be many years before people took interest in Stone. Until then, Stone kept his head down and his ears peeled, learning as much as he could about the world and the evil that festered within it.

#Stobotnik #Ivo Robotnik #Dr Robotnik #Agent Stone #Sonic movie #sonic 2020 #Well he's not exactly 'agent stone' in this fic is he? XD #Any support you guys can give me will really help me out in these trying times

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