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Surprise! The incredible brilliant genius wasn’t a complete fucking idiot! He was, in fact, perfectly aware of all sorts of things! Like the “right” things to say or ways to act, or knowledge of fine art, or the most popular drivel on television. He’d made it through more than his fair share of interviews and meetings and networking events, smiling and shaking hands well before he had the stature to ignore them all. He’d even (gasp!) gotten laid from time to time.
And, since you’d have to be a complete fucking idiot not to notice, yes. Doctor Robotnik was perfectly aware that his assistant was obsessed with him.
(A more sentimental mind might have said in love. Robotnik was not sentimental.)
He didn’t hold it against Stone. After all, who could blame him? Doctor Ivo Robotnik was tall, handsome, powerful, brilliant, wealthy, and looked damn good in black. Really, there should be more people looking at him with stars in their eyes and an eager willingness to serve. But he’d settle for just the one, for now. Especially considering how useful Stone’s little fixation turned out to be.
Honestly, assigning Stone to Robotnik was probably the best thing that ever happened to the agent, and somewhere in the top ten for Robotnik himself. Maybe even top five. Stone was quite capable, most of the time, and what was better than a bodyguard who would die for you? Plus he was easy on the eyes, which was far from essential but appreciated. So, Stone got to serve the one and only Doctor Robotnik, and in return Robotnik would eventually make him a vizier or the Duke of Australia or something. Mutualism. Win win.
That was all before everything went so horribly wrong, of course. Before some alien rodent drove him to act, fine, he’d admit it, a little rashly, and then stranded him on some wasteland planet for months. And then, when Robotnik finally made it back, drop kicked his giant mech so hard it shattered every bone in Robotnik’s body! It was a goddamn miracle that Stone had found him before he croaked, and a series of smaller miracles that he’d survived the recovery process.
It made sense that Stone saved him. That was one of those useful parts of his infatuation. You weren’t going to get “digs your mutilated body out of a pile of twisted flaming metal with his bare hands and then nurses you back to health over months while on the run from every government” by paying a living wage and offering a good dental plan. Not even the hope of eventual reward when Robotnik ruled the world bought you that. No, that took a special kind of unhinged, and Agent Stone was definitely special.
He wasn’t “Agent” Stone anymore, technically, but Ivo hadn’t managed to shake the habit. Stone didn’t seem to mind. When Ivo had said something about it, Stone just smiled and said that he was Robotnik’s agent now, not G.U.N.’s. But G.U.N. had given him a good salary, and health insurance, and a life in polite society.
Now, Doctor Ivo Robotnik, supergenius inventor and one of the most brilliant minds in the history of the planet, rotted in his chair hidden at the bottom of the sea in a big metal crab. And for some reason Ivo couldn’t begin to fathom, Stone rotted with him.
Ivo was tired; he was tired a lot, these days. He didn’t do anything, but he still wound up sleeping twelve hours at a stretch and only half-awake without caffeine. It was like his body was taking its revenge for a lifetime of sleepless nights driven by the need to create, by the ideas that wouldn’t let his brain rest and the endless itch in his fingers. (If he thought about it, he missed those nights. (He tried not to think about it.))
Ivo cleared his throat. “Stone,” he called, instantly regretting how hoarse he sounded. He wasn’t very loud, either, but it was still only a couple seconds before Stone popped his head in. The rest of him was still inside an access panel, fixing some hydraulics or something. He’d said, but Ivo hadn’t really been listening.
“Yes, Doctor?”
The title rankled. “I’m hungry,” he said.
“Of course, sir, I’ll - it’ll be just a minute, sir.” Stone hauled himself up out of the access panel. He’d swapped his usual suit for a jumpsuit, and that hung unzipped and tied around his waist leaving him in a white tank top. It pissed Ivo off. Stone looked so goddamn good like that, all exposed muscles and glimmering sweat. He even had a smear of black grease on his cheek. This fucking asshole pranced around the crab flaunting his muscles and beautiful, powerful physique, just to remind Ivo that he was twenty years older and fifty pounds heavier (at least).
Ivo settled back into his chair, fuming. Fucking Stone. What did he want? The devoted service had made sense when Ivo was great and powerful, but not anymore. His current theory was that Stone was, in fact, deliberately torturing him. Maybe that was what he wanted. Maybe he was enacting his revenge for Ivo’s failure. After all, he’d ruined Stone’s life too. Twice. So now Stone was going to drag this out as long as he could before finally putting Ivo out of his misery - or, more likely, leaving him to drown.
Used to be that if he thought something like that was happening, Ivo’d do something about it. Now he just wished it would happen faster.
Some time passed, probably only a couple minutes but Ivo didn’t give a shit anymore, before Stone arrived at his side holding a plate. “Here you are, sir!” he said, as cheerful as ever. “Be careful, it’s still hot.”
Ivo blinked at the plate. Chicken, rice, zucchini. He didn’t like zucchini. Stone knew that. So now Stone was deliberately feeding him something he hated. He should flip the plate over and yell at him. That was the correct response to this.
Instead, he took the plate without a sound and started eating with his fingers.
Stone’s face twisted, just for a second. “There’s a fork.”
There was, yeah. Tucked neatly on the lip of the plate. Ivo ignored it, picking individual bits off the plate. He didn’t look at Stone’s reaction. It might have been a resigned sigh, or a barely suppressed grin. Did it really matter?
The zucchini tasted like dirt and had the texture of vomit, but so did everything else, so he ate it anyway. The whole time, Stone hovered, pretending to clean or make some food for himself or whatever he could vaguely do to make it less obvious he was just watching Robotnik’s suffering.
Ivo’s grip on the plate tightened until it was shaking in his hands. How dare he? Was this all the great Ivo Robotnik was good for now? Why wouldn’t Stone just leave? Why couldn’t he have left Ivo in that fucking wreckage to die?
With every ounce of strength he could manage, he hurled the plate against the screen that covered the wall in front of him. The plate shattered into a crash of porcelain shards and the screen flashed and twisted, bolts of neon colors shooting across it until it went dark.
“Doctor!” Stone rushed over. Of course he did. Didn’t want to miss the show. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Had Stone always been such a good liar? If he didn’t know any better Ivo might think he meant it. That he actually cared.
Stone took in the shattered screen and broken plate, then turned his attention to Ivo. “What happened?” he repeated, like it wasn’t super obvious. “What’s wrong? Was it the zucchini? It was the zucchini, wasn’t it. I’m sorry, Doctor, I know you don’t like it but it was the only veget-“
Ivo tried to burst out of his seat, fueled by the power of his fury, but couldn’t manage it because he was such a useless fat pig. The best he could do was heave himself up, grunting and panting, and by the time he turned on Stone the spark was out.
And Stone was still looking at him, a mask of concern on his face, and underneath it he was laughing.
“Why,” Ivo croaked, “won’t you leave?” He poured every bit of fury into the last word, but it still flopped to the ground like a water balloon.
Stone took half a step back. “I - leave?”
“Yes! Leave! Fucking leave! Go away and let me die already!”
Damn. Stone was a really, really good actor. The look on his face was a mix of shock and sorrow that made Ivo’s chest ache even though he knew it was a lie. Ivo looked away as he pushed past Stone and hauled his broken useless body away. He made it to his rarely-used bedroom and locked the door behind him. Then, with Stone safely on the other side of a sealed bulkhead, he collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling.
The quiet knock on the door didn’t wake him, exactly, but it jolted him out of a daze.
“Doctor? Are you… I took a look at the screen, but I’m not sure we have the components to fix it on board. We may need to dock somewhere.”
Ivo didn’t answer.
“Unless you can fix it, sir,” Stone continued, muffled by the door. “But we’re overdue for a resupply run anyway. I’m sorry for serving you zucchini.”
Ivo snorted. Stone was pushing it, acting like he’d actually believe it was about the zucchini. He wasn’t that stupid.
Another knock. “Doctor?” A long pause. Then, “I know this isn’t about the zucchini, sir.”
Ivo grumbled and pulled the blankets over himself. Was it finally time for the game to end? For Stone to drop the act and let him go? That should have been a relief but he felt nauseated.
“May I come in?”
He really didn’t want to say anything to Stone - he’d deny him the satisfaction of hearing how miserable Ivo was - but it would be just like Stone to take silence as permission. “No,” Ivo snapped. “Go away.”
“Doctor, please - “
The rage hit like lightning. “Go away!” He screamed it, his voice going raspy on the last word. “Just fucking go!”
“No.”
A refusal? From Stone? Not even an obsequious little “sir” to soften it? Unthinkable, a year ago. Probably a long time coming, though.
Again, the anger faded as quickly as it had come, leaving Ivo empty. “Why?” His eyes stung, but he refused to feel it. “Why won’t you leave me alone? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Doctor, I’m not - “
“I get it. You’ve made your point. I can’t - I can’t take it anymore, Stone. You win. Either finish me off or leave so I can do it myself.”
For a long moment, there was quiet. Long enough that Ivo began to hope or fear that Stone had actually left. But then Stone spoke again, low and thick.
“Don’t say that, sir. Please.” There was a hitch in his words. “You can’t - I’m not going to let that happen. I know it’s - I - “
Was that a sob? Was Stone… crying?
No. He couldn’t be. He was laughing. Laughing at Ivo, laughing at his despair and his desperation, laughing at how far he’d fallen.
Ivo forced himself to stand up and lurched toward the door. He wasn’t entirely certain what he planned to do when he got there, so he went with flinging it open as fast as he could, ready to confront Stone’s cruel joke.
Except Stone was on his knees, with his head in his hands. When the door flew open his head jerked back and looked up at Ivo. His eyes were red and shining and there was a tear dripping down one cheek. Ivo only had a second to see it before Stone turned away, covering his face with his hands like he was embarrassed.
“D-Doctor! I - I’m sorry, I - I just, uh - “
Ivo stared. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll - “ Stone wiped the back of his hand across his face and sniffled. “I’ll stop in a second, I - “
“Why, Stone?” He seized Stone by the shoulders. “Why?”
“Because I’m scared!”
The shout that burst from Stone took both of them by surprise. Ivo actually physically flinched back, releasing Stone. Stone’s eyes widened and he froze. But Ivo wasn’t concerned about being screamed at by his subordinate; he was fixated on the words.
Stone was only scared of one thing, and that was tiny dogs. So unless someone had smuggled a chihuahua into the crab, there wasn’t anything for him to be scared of. But it didn’t seem like a lie.
Eventually, Ivo simply said, “Explain.”
“It’s - it’s nothing, Doctor. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t ask you to apologize, Agent Stone, I told you to finally explain yourself. No more games.”
“Games?”
Stone looked genuinely puzzled. Ivo could have laughed if he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out. “Answer the question. What’s got you so scared you’re sobbing in a pathetic little puddle on the floor?”
Stone lowered his gaze and took a shuddering breath. “When you say things like - when you talk about dying. It… I hear you. I know they’re jokes, but… they’re not always just jokes. And I can’t - I can’t help it. I think about losing you and it - it’s - I’m so sorry, Doctor, this is so unprofessional of me.” He wiped his sleeve across his eyes. “I’m doing everything I can, but I know it’s not enough, I know I’m not helping enough and I’m sorry. I - I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to help you. But please, don’t - you can’t -“ Stone was breathing fast, now, borderline hyperventilating. “Please, tell me what to do, what you need, how to help. Please don’t make me leave. Please don’t - go away.”
Ivo was getting dizzy. “Why are you here, Stone?”
“To check on you after -”
“No, why are you still here? Why haven’t you abandoned me?”
“Doctor, I would never - “
“Why not?” Ivo grabbed Stone by the chin and lifted his head. ”Look at me, Stone. Look at the mess my life has become. I’m worthless now.”
“No, no, you’re not.” Stone’s eyes were still so wide, so bright, even now. “You’re Doctor Ivo Robotnik. You’re everything.”
“I used to be. Look at me now.“ He let Stone go and raised both hands like he was showing himself off. “Look at this. This is human garbage.”
Stone shook his head. “You’re recovering. You’re - “
“I’m not recovering. I’m not getting better.“ Ivo siezed a fistful of Stone’s hair and forced his head back, forced him to look, to see. He bent down as far as he could. “I’m done, don’t you understand? I’m finished. It’s over.”
Stone squeezed his eyes tight and took a deep breath. Then, another. He let the third out with a shivering sigh and opened his eyes again. “You are still Doctor Ivo Robotnik. You still have a brilliant mind and a vast education and decades of experience in creating the greatest machines this planet has ever known. That is still you, sir. And right now, you’re - you’re in a slump. But you’ll get back to it, sir. You’ll be - you’ll be like yourself again in no time.”
Ivo frowned down at Stone. Slowly, he lowered himself into a crouch until he was eye level with Stone. “And what if that never happens? Hm? What if I never come back? What if I can never bring myself to set foot outside this crab again? What if that me is dead, and this is what’s left?”
“That won’t - “
“Stone.”
“If… if that happens, if you’re never like you used to be again, then…” He went quiet for a long moment. “Then nothing. It wouldn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter?“ Ivo snapped. “You need to face reality. I can’t give you anything, Stone. There’s nothing you stand to gain from serving me, and you know it, so why are you here?”
Stone’s eyes rose to meet Ivo’s, and Ivo nearly flinched. They were sharp, and stern, and focused, but not cold. Not even a little bit cold. “I’m not here to gain anything, Doctor. I never was. The only thing I ever wanted was to be at your side. No matter how much you change, it’s not going to change how I - “ He cut himself off, his eyes widening, then cleared his throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ivo frowned. “You want to stay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You want to spend the rest of your life taking care of a fat, lazy, ungrateful old man?
“As long as you’ll let me. Sir.”
Ivo took this in and let it simmer for a moment. Then he puffed his cheeks, blew out some air, and sat heavily. His calves were burning anyway. “That’s dumb.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It is. It’s just dumb, Stone. You could go anywhere. You could do anything. Hell, at this point you could probably take over my old spot at G.U.N. But you’d rather waste your days down here, waiting on a spoiled manchild in a permanent tantrum.”
Stone smiled, just a little, and glanced up at Ivo. “If that’s what I want to do, sir, I think it’d be dumber not to.”
Ivo was starting to lose confidence in his theory. Maybe Stone wasn’t just torturing him for kicks and crying to hide his laughter. Maybe Stone actually did give a shit about whether he lived or died. Maybe Stone… maybe Stone was still obsessed with him.
(A more sentimental mind might have said - )
“Ugh. Fine. Whatever.” Ivo waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t care. Stay as long as you want. It’s your loss.”
Stone’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you, sir.”
“That was your last chance to leave, Agent. If you’re going to stay, you’re going to stay. You’re stuck here now.”
“I hope so, sir.”
“I mean it. Desertion will be punished with death. Don’t think you can hide from me.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Was he smiling? At a death threat? What a lunatic.
“And I’ll…” Ivo rolled his eyes. “Try to stop saying stuff about wanting to kill myself or whatever. Since you’re gonna be a crybaby about it.”
“I’d appreciate that, sir. They’re not good for you, you know. The jokes.”
“Hey, which of us is the doctor, huh?”
Stone didn’t respond to the jibe. Instead, his face grew serious. “That doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it, though, if you’re feeling that way. I don’t want you to think you have to hide it, or that I don’t want to know. I do. If you feel like you’re in danger, or - “
“Stone,” Ivo interrupted, “say ‘suicide’ already, or at least ‘kill yourself.’ I’m not that fragile yet and the euphemisms are supremely irritating.”
Stone pursed his lips and nodded. “Fine. I hope you can stop making suicide jokes, because they make me feel awful and they’re not good for you either. But I don’t want you to think that means I want you to hide it if you’re feeling suicidal, because I can’t help you if you hide it.”
“You sound like an informational pamphlet sent home by the guidance counselor when a boy wears black eyeliner to school.”
“That’s… oddly specific.”
“So was that little speech.”
“It wasn’t - I’ve been thinking about saying something for a while. And what to say.”
That shouldn’t have been a surprise. Ivo sighed heavily. “Alright. No more suicide talk, unless I actually mean it, in which case we can have a Very Special Episode about it. In return, you never serve me zucchini again. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Good. Therapy over.” Ivo began the process of standing up. Stone jumped to his feet much more nimbly and helped pull him up. “Now let’s go see how fucked the TV is.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
He didn’t need Stone’s hand on his forearm or gently resting between his shoulder blades, but he let it happen. “Why did you even buy zucchini in the first place? Pretty girl at the farmer’s market flirt with you?”
“No! Of course not!”
“You’re blushing, Stone.”
“I’m not!”
“‘Ooh, you look like such a big strong man, I wonder how big your zucchini is.’ And then she bats her eyes a little and suddenly you’re holding five pounds of evolution’s worst mistake.”
“…it was a boy, actually.”
“Hah! Gay.”