Zima

Rating: T

Warnings: Once upon a time, Sonic would be considered OOC in this, but now that Sonic Boom exists he's not. Granted, this is an AU anyway, but this is still the mobius of my other stories—just tweaked a bit—so he officially classifies as OOC simply because this does not take place in the Sonic Boom universe. Shucks, almost got away with this.

Notes: There are so many things that I should be working on, but this story needs me and I need it. I really shouldn't be posting another multi-chapter story considering I already have three (three lord save me) in the works, but I refuse to turn away a story that comes to me from on high, demanding that I give it my full attention. This one is something special to me, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

There was once a time when I worried about how well an idea would be received by the fanfiction audience as a whole, but I've stopped caring so much. This story is more for me and if you enjoy it, then that's an extra little victory for me. Plus, we need more AUs here in the Sonic fandom beyond the obligatory high school AUs. Give me AU or give me death.

This story gains inspiration from Rise of the Guardians—the movie, as I've not yet had the privilege of reading the books—but I've taken everything and made it my own. There will be ice powers. And we should celebrate ice powers.

Everything in this fic is intended to be platonic and brotherly. Please don't read into it. I'm here to tell you that it is possible to love someone deeply in a platonic way. It doesn't have to be romantic. If you want romance, go somewhere else.

Disclaimer: All recognizable material belongs to Sega and their affiliates.

It was so simple, something Tails had seen him do countless times already, but those big blue eyes lit up so brightly when he woke up the morning of November 24th and looked out the window that Sonic felt his heart nearly beat out of his chest with pride.

Outside, the ground was covered with a thick blanket of snow, ice crawling up the windows of the Workshop, small whorls decorating them into intricate designs that had the fox riveted. The kit gasped and jumped out of bed, rushing to the pane of glass to touch it. His gloved fingers left warm circles of moisture behind and he laughed, a pure chiming sound that had Sonic smiling from ear to ear. Ah, to be six years old and marveled by a simple snowfall. Childlike joy made his life so much better.

"Can we go play?!" Tails demanded, whirling around, eyes alight with glee and wonder. Sonic was standing in the doorway, holding up the kit's bright blue coat, which he shook in reply. The fox squealed and darted to put it on, immediately yelling "race you!" as he rocketed out the door and down the stairs. The hedgehog's smile widened and he quickly followed.

Two years later, the same date, the same type of morning. Eight and amazed, snowfall outside, a happy morning spent with snowball fights and snowmen, snow angels and snow flurries. Snow—Sonic's specialty.

"Make it snow on all my birthdays, okay?" Tails demanded in childhood glee, gathering some of the fluffy, shimmery stuff and throwing it up. Sonic waved his hand and a small gust grabbed the snow and whisked it away, around and around in a dance that was fit for Tchaikovsky before allowing it to float back to the ground around Tails. The fox's smile was huge and Sonic grinned back.

"I will. I promise."

Four years after that, the last good year. Twelve years old and still young enough to spring from bed and race to the window, demand to play, shrug on a coat and push Sonic out the door. A flurry kicked up as he crunched into the snow, swirling around the fox in a tornado that licked at his coat and sent his namesakes into a frenzy. A loud laugh, still high pitched and carefree, and then a snowball smacked into the fox, magically flying through the air without a pair of hands ever touching it. A war ensued, in which Tails conceded defeat only after the hedgehog stuffed snow down his coat.

The next year, Tails looked through Sonic more than he saw him, forgot the swirling whirling lighthearted play, forgot nearly everything as puberty set in. Sonic lost him that year, like all other children, but he hurt the most. The morning of his thirteenth birthday wasn't the same. There wasn't the patter of feet on the floor or the demand to go outside. There was a slow descent down the stairs and then a few steps outside, no coat, staring at the snowfall with head upturned and blue eyes empty. Sonic hovered out there, a blue blob in the white, and when Tails' eyes glanced his way, he thought he saw recognition. Then, it was gone almost as quickly as it had come.

There had been a possibility, but like every other hopeful wish, it was unfounded. Sonic's long life was filled with disappointments, but this one... This one would haunt him for the rest of his days.

And now, three years after, he hovers in front of Tails' second story window with only the wind to keep him aloft, breathing frost onto the glass and then drawing small designs, like he does every year. Like he promised. Never mind that Tails probably can't remember that pledge. A promise is a promise. Snow is tipping down in the early morning gloom, gathering on the front step, the plateau, in the trees, and everywhere in between. Sonic waves a lazy hand toward the door and the wind sweeps the snow away so Tails won't step out into it immediately. His work is unblemished by footprints—perfect, like always.

He finishes with the window and presses his fingers to it. Ice covers his whorls and curls, defining and protecting them. There, they should last all day now. He casts his eyes over the Workshop one last time before nodding and commanding the wind to toss him onto the roof. He lands with a crunch on the snow that has gathered there and sets in to wait. This routine is three years old and he's used to it by now, as depressing as that is. But, at least he still has this. He doesn't know what he'll do when he can't decorate for Tails' birthday anymore.

A few hours later, he hears Tails' alarm clock go off and his breath catches. No matter how much the rest of the day sucks, this is the best part. Tails always goes to the window, examines the painstaking frost he has put there, and the look on his face always takes Sonic back to when the fox was younger and still believed. That expression gets him through the year, through the angry spells and disappointment, and he floats down to peer through the window.

Tails is only just reaching the window when Sonic gets there. He is disheveled from sleep, eyes dark and angry—a familiar look these days—but when he sees the window his expression lifts and a small smile paints its way across his features. His eyes widen to take in the artwork that decorates it and Sonic feels pride swell in his chest. Over ten years and he's still got it. The teenager's gaze shifts toward Sonic and the hedgehog freezes as the fox's eyes focus. He sees Tails' breath catch and his own heart crashes to a halt.

A shaking, gloved hand rises to press against the window. Sonic watches it, looks back at the fox, and yes, Tails is looking right at him.

"Can—" Sonic begins, not knowing if his voice will get through the layers of ice and glass separating them, but he has to try. "Can you see me?"

Tails doesn't hear him. He blinks and then shakes his head, mumbling under his breath. He turns and Sonic feels like he's been punched in the gut. Damnit.

.

.

For as long as Sonic can remember, he's been a winter elemental—The Winter Elemental. It's his job to bring ice and snow to the planet, and he spends most of his time flying around, dropping snowflakes and icing power lines. There are other elementals of course, ice and wind and rain and fire and every other type imaginable, but Sonic is one of The Seasonal Four—the top tier, the big bosses, the movers and shakers, only a few of the names they've received from other elementals over the years. He was born an elemental, probably deposited on the planet by Chaos himself. As far as he knows, there are only a few pure elementals left—the ones endowed by Chaos or saved after death. Most are minor sprites, controlling one element and doing all that they can to help the Seasonals, while a select few work directly under the main four. Autumn has a few assistants simply because his job is so large—all those plants to prepare for winter. Sonic doesn't have any help; he prefers to do everything himself. It lets him explore and travel, running and flying with the wind. He loves to watch adults get huffy at sudden snowfall while children celebrate at the same time.

Children... He has a soft spot for children. The only people who can see him are children, with their big imaginations and unblemished souls. He spends most of his days playing with them, dusting their lawns with snow and icing the roads so the schools call a snow day. The kids love him and he makes sure they stay stocked up on snowballs while also keeping them off the road when they get carried away. He's been doing this for centuries—maybe even millennia.

He's an old man really, but he feels fifteen. He feels like one of the kids that he watches play, understands their need to get out into the cold and roll in the snow, identifies with childhood in a way that he'll never hope to identify with adulthood. He wants freedom for them, so he gives it to them in the only way he knows how.

But, once they hit puberty, they lose interest in him. He watches as they start to see through him, start to scoff at the idea of playing in the snow, and he can't do anything to stop it. This is the natural order of things. There will always be more children. Really, his job is just to bring snow and ice, not entertain kids.

Still, he can't help but mourn a choice few as they outgrow him. Tails is the only one that has managed to get this close to him, and he only has himself to blame for the heartbreaking situation he finds himself in. Tails is sixteen and can't see him anymore—hasn't been able to since he was thirteen—and Sonic has tried everything to break through to him, to no avail.

So, now, he decorates windows and drops snow every year on the kid's birthday. He sits on the roof with his knees pulled into chest and watches as the fox walks out into the snow, looking for him, but not able to see him. He knows that Tails remembers Sonic, the big brother who has cared for him since he was four, but he doesn't remember The Winter Spirit, so, to Tails, Sonic abandoned him years ago. The fox has anger inside him, a bitterness that he lets out in angry bursts as he blows up bomb after bomb in the Workshop. He's been crafting weapons for years, a worrisome situation for anyone, but especially so for Sonic, who can't do anything to stop him.

This year, Tails pads out with his coat and a scarf. He walks to the middle of the empty, wide area of the plateau and gazes out at the rest of the ruins, breath fogging in front of him. Sonic wants nothing more than to drop down in front of him and explain everything, but he knows that would be a waste of breath. He deserves this pain, but Tails sure as hell doesn't.

"Pity party for one?" a female voice pipes up suddenly. Sonic stiffens and the wind whips toward them, ready to grab him and carry him off. But then, his brain clicks on and recognizes the voice. His shoulders hunch and he scowls.

"What're you doing here, Amy?" He isn't sure how she got up here. Her powers don't include flying.

The snow crunches as she steps forward into his peripheral vision. She's dressed in a big, fluffy pink coat with her hands stuffed into her pockets, mittens hanging around her neck. She crouches down next to him, gazing at Tails with a closed off expression. "It's Tails' birthday. I'm here to watch you watch him."

"You hate the cold," Sonic grouses, which is true enough. Amy's the Summer Elemental, all sunshine and heat waves, swimming pools and ice cream. They don't get along that well, but they tolerate each other because it wouldn't do for winter and summer to be at odds; both are necessary for equilibrium.

"You're deflecting," Amy answers. On the ground, Tails falls forward into the snow, face buried in the cold. A smile ghosts across Sonic's face; the fox used to do that when was tiny, wanting to feel the cold all way through his body. "You can't keep this up."

"I damn well can." Sonic wraps his arms around his legs. "He's my responsibility."

"You knew you were making a gamble when you adopted him."

Oh, yes, the gamble. She had said the same thing to him when he had returned to Angel Island with a young child in tow. And how did he reply?

"If I were mobian," he says now, in a perfect reflection of his earlier self, "I think I would be a gambling man. Have you seen the slots in Casino Night Zone? I could lose a few rings there."

"You knew there was a fifty percent chance—"

"Look Amy," he cuts across, watching as Tails rolls over onto his back and stares up at the sky. Sonic waves his hand and snow starts falling, each snowflake carefully crafted by his hands, "I don't need to hear it. I knew the statistics, but I'm not gonna drop him just because the pendulum didn't swing in my favor."

Amy sighs and her breath puffs in front of her. Sonic is suddenly painfully aware that she used to be mobian, can understand every little thing Tails is going through in ways Sonic can't, and that hurts. "Well, Cream and I are gonna stop by later this evening. Do you want us to tell him anything?"

Sonic shakes his head, suddenly angry at her. He glares ahead and the wind picks up, whirling the snow around.

The girl reaches out and pats his arm. Her palm is searing hot on his freezing skin and it takes all of his willpower not to jerk away. Chaos, he hates summer sometimes. "I'll see you later," she mumbles before turning and crunching away. He hears her jump off the roof and then all trace of her is gone.

Amy doesn't deserve the anger, not really. She's been dealing with his temper tantrums for centuries. He's just jealous. Amy Rose had once been mobian, alive and well, but then some kind of accident—she won't specify what exactly it was—happened. She tried to save a younger girl, getting herself killed in the process, and Chaos—or Tikal, Sonic isn't sure which of them is the gracious one anymore—saw that moment of self sacrifice as an action of pure heart. He saved her, transformed her into a light elemental. Unfortunately, the girl she had tried to save, Cream, died anyway, and Chaos changed her as well. Amy was quickly appointed to the Summer Elemental position by Tikal and Cream inherited the Spring Elemental position. Because of their strange circumstances, the two girls can choose to be seen by adult humans, which means that they can visit Tails. Sonic usually asks them to take him things, make sure he has enough food, and is paying the bills, but he always feels a touch of spite when he does.

Sonic sighs and takes a few deep breaths to calm down. The wind follows suit and the snow returns to its gentle drift. Really, there are other places he should be right now, but he feels close to his charge when they do this every year. There's a script—Sonic makes it snow, Tails marvels at the window, Sonic watches him come outside and appreciate his hard work—and Sonic isn't willing to break his promise. There's only so long mobians have and he intends to greet every single one of Tails' years.

The fox sits up now and Sonic can hear his sigh all the way across the lawn. He stands and bats snow off his coat before starting back toward the door. So, it's over, just like that. Sonic's green eyes follow him all the way to the door, where he stands on the clear front step and turns back for one last look. The snow is unblemished besides his footfalls and the impression of his body in the middle of the plateau. Already, the holes are being filled in by the falling flakes and Sonic considers stopping the snowfall, but Tails turns and enters the house before Sonic can move. Oh well. Back to your regularly scheduled moping.

Sonic hops off the roof and ghosts over to the place where Tails had lain. There is a snow angel, one of Tails' favorite things to make, but there is something else, something scratched out next to the angel. Sonic bends to get a better look and his heart stops.

I know you're there, it says in sloppy lettering. The snow is packed in, making the deeply etched letters stand out pretty clearly from the rest of the snow. Sonic stands stiffly and looks back at the house. Tails is standing behind the large kitchen windows, staring at Sonic—or at least at his message—probably try to discern if someone actually is there.

Suddenly, Sonic is moving. He darts across the lawn with the wind on his heels and blows frost on the window in front of Tails' face. The fox jumps and nearly falls backwards, but manages to catch himself. For half a second, Sonic considers what he's doing, knows it's stupid, but he can't stop—not after three years of his farce.

With a shaking hand, he traces letters in the frost, Tails' eyes widening as he takes them in.

I'm always here.

All questions will be answered in time.

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