A/N:Woahh… do you see what I see…?

Could it be?

OH-EM-GEE it is. Ladyamalphia :o?! Long time no see, hmm? I hate myself :P. I just kind of disappear for four months. Seriously, the only review I've sent since like… May was to Anzgirlchibi (dude, my hero o: ) yesterday.

It's so strange. I mean, all I've done all summer long (and this is really depressing) is pecking away it this half-assed little comedy story that I'm not at all fond of anyways. Soo, yesterday, I was like…

"I think I should write something."

So I sat down and wrote this little piece of work :P. The title's a work in progress… I might change it if you guys like this story enough for me to continue.

--LA

Little old moi owns nobody. Yayyy I've missed writing sheetty disclaimers x333!

His funeral was surreal. Almost as much so as his death had been.

It was a bad dream. I'd heard losing loved ones described in those same words too many times. It felt unpleasantly cliché. But for me, they meant something different. Not the physical aspect of a dream; in thinking that it was too terrible for real-life, that I'd wake up moments later and he'd be soundly sleeping upon my roof. No. I knew that wasn't going to happen. I'd been right there when it happened. The image of his limp silhouette on the floor was still seared into the back of my eyes. For me, it was the vagueness, the numbness of everything that made me question reality.

Seated in the front row, I felt like it could only be that; a transparent, though admittedly elaborate, dream. My mind wasn't functioning – which I very much disliked. I'd glance at a teary-eyed someone, but still only take in half of their expression. It was as if fifty percent of my mind was needed to so much as comprehend that he was gone.

My memory of the past few days was full of blurry, empty splotches. Spots, I figured, where my brain had suffered waves of grief so total that it needed to concentrate all its power to stop me from exploding. I could only imagine my expression when I my mind took its little breaks.

I found myself standing at a podium.

I realized that I was supposed to speak. I then realized that I'd prepared a speech.

'Speech?' My mind inferred blankly. I blinked, feeling even paler than my new usual.

'Was I… was I there while you were reading it?'

My face was blank, despite the imminent turmoil going on behind it.

I was half aware of the silent crowd before me, though I was taking in none of their faces.

Hands on my shoulders. They were gentle.

I was seated again. Had I finished my speech? That wouldn't be any surprise.

But I became suddenly aware of supple grass beneath me.

"Tails…"

I recognized her voice after a second, but couldn't yet match it with a face. So, I looked up. That made sense, as far as I could tell.

Her voice had sounded sad, I noticed.

I had to stare emptily for a moment. It was so strange… my eyes worked fine. I could see her. But I wasn't fully aware of her, like she was only half there. Or maybe I was.

Amy, I realized. Yeah, that name clicked.

I intended to say her name… but found that I was short the willpower. Opening my mouth would take mind capacity, which I couldn't afford at the troubled moment.

'Amy loved him.'

That was right… Amy had always loved him, hadn't she? Mmhmm. She had. I had too. That I remembered on cue.

"Let's go home."

She had spoken. Deciphering English was suddenly so difficult. It took ages for each word to sink in… as I had to look each up in a mental dictionary before it could make sense.

"Okay."

'Was that one us?'

I thought it was.

I was home again. I liked being home. My machines were there with me; we would sit in silence together mourning. Maybe they missed him too…

But I wasn't alone now. Amy was beside me. It occurred to me suddenly that the loss must have been torturing her almost as much as me.

I looked at her, willing myself to not block her out. She had escorted me home after all, despite her own obvious desolation. It was no easy task, but I tried to reorganize my mind.

It was like my computers. When I got too ambitious and tried to do dozens of things at a time, they would sometimes freeze. So I would have to check how much space each application was using up.

Well, because I needed more than half of my mind power to keep myself from melting down, everything else had to cram itself into the other fifty percent.

Concentrating hard, I mustered a weak smile. That was dangerous. I was honing in on the hundred percent mark… and I wasn't too sure what would happen after that.

Could I talk to her? Or would speaking be pushing my luck. Not in the mood to see what happened when I passed full capacity, I shakily tried to shift around my mental priorities.

My mouth opened… but the effort to do that came out of the part of my brain reminding me to breath.

That wouldn't do.

However, now that it was already opened, I realized that it didn't take any concentration. So I tried to talk.

"I miss him." I choked, feeling a hot rush of tears swell into my eyes.

It was too much. Those three words had crossed the line, and all of my carefully organized mental filing was thrown out of whack.

Sensing a breach, my senses leapt to regain their usual top-priority status, ploughing straight through my emotional guard wall without a thought.

Newly aware of my familiar surroundings, I broke down.

The sound of my own sobs reverberated into my ears with a new, refined clarity. I sunk beside her, weeping until my mind was cleansed of all percents and barriers.

It felt better.

His green eyes lay ghostly and empty beneath their scarred lids. The stronger-stomached of his friends had tried to position his body to be visually peaceful, but his broken limbs didn't help with their cause. Flesh cold, body contorted, and fur matted, he rested in the dark space of his coffin.

Many of his more optimistic, more naïve, friends refused to accept his death. Their hero could only be death-proof. They insisted to themselves that he would turn up at their doorsteps any day, grinning his usual grin and asking why they'd buried him under so much dirt.

So many times had the hedgehog evaded death… it seemed so impossible for him to be beaten. But he had been. His stationary heart was not-so-living proof.

The pessimists of the group could only concentrate on the troubled future. Without their main protector, there was nobody to stand between them and the world's evils.

The realists, however, bitterly accepted his parting. They knew he was gone and could only hope that he'd been happy when his eyes fluttered shut for the last time.

But, meters of soil below the surface, those shallow eyes opened again.

A/N: … I hate myself Dx. Like… SLLR, now this? I'm a sadist. I have a bunch of half-stories stowed away that are actually nice, and happy, but I just can't finish them :P.

Anywayss… It's really short, I know… but I'm just testing the water on this concept.

Soo… tell me what you think C:! I don't need to say how much I adore reviews, do I? Maybe I have to reinstate it considering my little vacation. Reviews are like… my most favouritliscous thing. in the world. booyah. Therefore, I appreciate them very much, especially on stories like this where it's a little out of the usual :).

So, should I drop it? Or is it worth continuing :). Please be honest about that… I only wrote this because I was depressed about not writing anything all summer.

Speaking of which, it's almost over :P. That went sorta quick. But I'm really excited, since I'm starting high school this Autumn :D. The schedules still haven't come yet… growlll… but I'm patient. Well actually, I check the mailbox twelve times a day. But still!

I've missed writing my stupid AN's :).

Thanks guys, please review :).

--LA