Hello internet population who was smart enough to click this story! It's my newest one and I really hope it turns out as good as I think it will! I was going to wait till I'd written ahead some more, but I had the next two chapters done and I figured I'd drop out the prologue here to see everyone's first opinion!

A few quick notes:

YES this will be a Sonamy (I find myself incapable of anything else at this point), but it WILL tak a few chapters to introduce Sonic into the story. So if you'll be patient with me until then, I promise it will be worth it!

I know, Peter's dialogue will be kind of hard to read in this chapter, but it's just for this one, so yeah. Just try to read it how it's spelled for him.

Story is written in Amy's POV.

I love reviews and please try to leave them after this chapter.

Thanks for reading my note and a shout out goes to my first reviewer (along with anyone else who I feel may deserve it)! I'm wide open with suggestions and enjoy the first chapter/semi-back-story! XD

Prologue

It was cold considering the fact it was March. It had just rained, leaving the thickly clouded city air damp and sticky, but at the same time icy harsh. It was times like this I almost decided to go home. Just almost. But rather than facing my father and all his druken fury, I just stuck my hands deeper into the pockets of my black fitted fake-leather coat and braved the chilly wind.

It was pretty dark, but I wasn't sure if it was from the dark gray clouds or the time; different time-zones, different season, different city...my watch was pretty useless right now.

We'd just moved (again) from the suburbs out into another big city, probably at least on the top five biggest we'd lived in that I could remember. We never stayed in the same place for too long, my Dad and I. He'd never told me the exact reason, but I had plenty to go by. There were a lot of things I'd had to just figure out on my own. Some of the reasons for our constant travel, however, I had been making a mental list for since I was four.

Daddy gets bored in the same place for too long.

Daddy has to keep moving for his job.

Dad needs different towns with different people. Different women.

Dad's on Robotnic's good side, but if he starts getting too well known in one place he might draw unwanted attention.

He's running away from something. Maybe someone.

As for his job, my dad was a small-time singer and guitar player, mostly for bars around Mobius. He always said it was the best place to be in the music industry because you get all the perks of any famous stars without all the unwanted attention for the press. I think his main reason was that it was an easy job for picking up girls. Anything from bar maid sluts to over-stressed mom's who don't know what they're getting themselves into.

Whenever it happened to be the latter extreme and his girlfriend of the week had kids, he'd often arrange for them to come over to our place so that when the lady found out about me she wouldn't be outraged when I came into the picture. I'm sure it wasn't to give me a sense of socialization; if he wanted that he'd just stick me in a school with all the other kids.

When that happened before I would always try to warn the kids about what my Dad would do. If I did get through and they told their parents, it's not like any of the moms would believe them. "Oh, they're just nervous because I've started dating again," they'd say. Sometime I wondered if adults had any respect for us kids at all.

But I guess I couldn't complain; I could ignore all the hellish shit at my house as long as I had the freedom to leave whenever I wanted...and freedom is exactly what I had. More than my dad would ever know; that was for sure. Dr. Robotnic was the self-acclaimed dictator of Mobius, causing mayhem and robotisizing anyone who couldn't comply to his every command, but he wasn't a problem for my father or me.

With Dad's job, he could afford to pay the high taxes on the cost of living and was actual "friends" with the evil scientist, so he didn't cause us any harm, so long as we remained under the radar and didn't cause any stir amongst the populous. That was my secret rebellion.

I was a deeply in cover freedom fighter. So deep in fact that I hardly participated in any fights in the war against the robots. Mostly it was just in my head; the fact that if it came down to it, I'd abandon my life in a heartbeat to fight his forces. On the other hand, though, I'd been of use several times getting real Freedom Fighters out of trouble with the robot police just by proving my rightful place of citizenship among the few Robotnic didn't penalize.

We had come to this city just about a week ago and I had found it to be very brutal. The people here were either robots or stone cold muggers who wouldn't hesitate to punish a seemingly defenseless 16-year-old girl like myself for the stupid mistake of wandering the streets alone. That's why I kept my money stuffed down in the toes of my over-sized combat boots, my head low with my pink quills covering my face, setting off the image of some bad ass that didn't want to be messed with and you shouldn't mess with, and, as always, my piko piko hammer ready for summons. That was my defense.

The streets were more or less unoccupied anyway; no one wanted to be out in the dark as a chill set over the gloomy wet streets. That's why it seemed so strange to see a little hedgehog boy running frantically towards me down the street.

He slipped on a puddle just a few feet from me and fell hard on the cement. He struggled to get up and tried to keep moving, but he had an obvious limp. He was a very small boy, so I moved forward and helped him up.

''Why are you running down the streets alone? It's cold and awful out. Where are your-'' I began, but the boy interrupted me.

''Pwease help me! I have to get away! If you help me hide, I pwomise I'll-AHHH!'' he screamed and I followed his gaze to see a dark metaled, red-eyed robot, poised to fire a laser at him.

I don't know why, but I felt protective of the boy, though I didn't even know him. He looked at me with scared, pleading eyes that compelled me into scooping him up and running. Of course the robot quickened his pace to follow, but I was much faster, even with the small child's added weight, as a ran carefully across the slick sidewalk. My combat boots pounded against the ground and I heard the wavering drone of the robot slowly fading, but I kept running until we reached the outskirts of town, holding just a few apartment complexes, but not quite the projects vicinity of the city.

I set the boy down in a strip of grass behind some of the apartment fences, the only place even close to the city with anything naturally green, and gave him a long hard look. He stared up at me with big blue eyes, almost purple actually, and his face fluctuated from a confused look, thankful smile, and around to a longing sort of sadness.

''T-tank you f-fow-'' he stuttered in a small, young voice.

''Why was that robot after you?''

''Because I was wuneen away again, but pwease don't make me go back! I can-''

''What's your name, and how old are you?'' I asked, shocked at how a boy so small and young could cope with the concept that even I, a 16-year-old girl living where I was unnoticed and unwanted all the time, couldn't find the strength to do.

''My name's Pether Fidder, but I don't have anothew name; just dose. I think I'm fow, but I haven't ast in a few weeks.''

''Peter Fidder?"

He shook his head and tried to say the word around the lisp in his still-developing language. "Fii-d...d-d-s-st...you got the Pether wiyt. But my udder name id Fii-ster."

"Fisher?" I guessed and he nodded. "Where were you running away from?''

''The orphanage down on 42nd; I've lived dhare all my life, but Mr. R-427 said I couldin anymore because I'd nevew get adoped. He said I couldn live dhare because I was too much twuble and he would kiwl me!''

''Is R-427 that robot who was chasing you? Is he in charge there?''

''He is bote of dose, well now he is. The other lady who worked dhare died and he was dhare to take ovew, so he had to be dhare fow fuw days while da weepwacemen came. Dhare awen't a wot of kids dhare and I'm dah onlwy one ower dan two, so he said I had doo weave,'' the boy said, big fat tears now rolling down his thin face. ''I...I have no ware else to go! I've nevew had a Mommy oh Daddy an...an he said he w-would kiwl me!'' he cried.

I took him into my arms and wiped the tears from his face, ''shhhh, shhh, don't cry.'' I said, but he was still blubbering, ''Hasha-hasa,'' I whispered in a comforting drawl; I wasn't sure where the words came from, but I'd always had them. Like some baby language I had never forgotten somehow, ''hasha-hassa-shhhh. You'll be okay.''

''No I won't; I'm aww awone wit nobody t-to take caywe of me.'' he said, having calmed his sobs by some of the magic that flowed through my fake words.

''I will take care of you. I will do as best I can to, but I can't promise you everything. I don't think I can give you a school or a real home, but I'll do everything I can for as long as you need until you find a real Mommy.'' I promised, not even sure where I had gotten the idea to think, much less say the words!

I could barely take care of and manage myself alone, but a four year old boy? I must have been losing my mind! It was just...there was just something about him...something I felt like I had to protect.

''You wiw?'' he sniffled, wiping away some of the blobs of tears still stuck to his face.

''I will.''

''What's yow name?''

''Amy Rose. I don't have any other names either.'' I said.

"Well, this is my house, I guess yours now too. I have to tell you, though, that there are some VERY important rules, okay? Are you good at following rules?"

"Yes ma'am. The rules at da orphanage were vewy stwickt, so I'm good at fowowing dem."

"Alright, well the first rule is that you don't call me ma'am, okay? You have to promise me that, even though you'll have to listen to me, we're going to be friends and I can't be a 'ma'am' if we're just friends," I said, for what was probably the first time ever saying "friends" in a sentence referring to myself.

"Okay; dat's much more nicer," he said with a smile.

"But even more important than that is that I live here with my dad, but he can't ever EVER find out about you, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Because if he knew you were here, we'd both be in very big trouble; you'd have to go back to the orphanage and I'd never be able to see you again," his face fell and eyes widened and, despite his age, I knew he understood.

"That's the only very important rule, but other than that is just that you'll have to check with me for everything! If you're hungry, you tell me and I'll get you something to eat. If you're tired, tell me and I'll get you to bed. If you want to go somewhere, always have me with you unless I tell you otherwise and if you need to go potty...you're allowed to go on your own if you know how, but make sure you tell me first anyway."

"I can go potty by my-delf," he stated proudly.

"That's good! Just you have to tell me first so I can make sure my dad isn't in the bathroom; we don't want to walk in on him and he never locks the door, but I think it should be fine most of the time. He's usually not here, but when he is we'll have to be very careful. Also, I like to leave the house a lot, so you'll have to be willing to go places with me everyday because I can't let you stay here without me. Is that okay?"

"Okay; I love going places, even if it's the same place a lot."

"Me too," I smiled. "Well, that's about it for rules, but if you have any questions just ask me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now that we've got that out of the way, we can get down to some other things. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I'm vewy hungy! I'm hungy a wot," he said, nodding vigorously.

"Okay, well what do you want for supper? We can order in or I'll cook something; whatever's your favorite since it's your first night here."

"You mean I can weally chood what food we can eat?" I smiled and nodded, trying to hide the sympathy I felt for his simply sparked excitement. "But...I don't know. Could you tewl me a few tings?"

"Well, I can cook mashed potatoes pretty well; that with some kind of vegetable and...I guess meat if you like it or fish or something, but I'm not quite as experienced with that sort of thing. I could cook it however you like it though and it might turn out pretty good. Or if you want us to order something we could have pizza, Chinese, Mexican, whatever you like!"

"Well...I twied Chinese once and it was yummy!"

"That's cool! Do you like spicy things or salty or not that much taste at all?"

"I like salty stuff da best as long as I can have sumteen to dwink," he said, seeming less and less shy by the indication of his brightening tone.

"Of course! Now, there's a few more things we need to get out of the way too. You'll need some new clothes and things, but we'll do that tomorrow. For tonight I'll let you use one of my old T-shirts to sleep in, but before bed you're going to need a bath."

"Oh..." he sounded slightly disappointed in this.

"I'll start the water and we can get you in and out after I call and order the food. After that we can both go ahead and relax for the night, okay?"

"Okay."

The tub was filled about three quarters of the way with lukewarm water and dinner would be here in about half an hour. That was just enough time to get Peter cleaned up. I got him out of the dirty, raggedy clothes I had found him in and finally forced him into the bath. With much less protest on his side than I expected, I was able to hold him down in the water long enough to clean up. He had a soft orange colored hair, which was about three shades lighter than the dirt brown it had been before the bath, and fairly dark skin, compared to my pail complexion at least.

It was obvious he hadn't had a good cleaning in a while, since I had to drain the tub once just to rinse him off. Finally, though, he was sparkling clean and smelled much fresher than before. I got him one of my T-shirts, which was baggy on him but just fine for a sleep shirt, and heard the doorbell ring just as I was helping him get re-dressed. I jogged over and paid the delivery guy for the food, closing the door without making eye contact or any speech except "keep the change".

"Don't you feel all better now that you're all squeaky clean?"

"Mhm," he answered as we ate our noodles from the little take-out boxes.

"And you look much better too; such a handsome young man. Your hair is such a nice color," I complimented and he beamed happily with a long noodle slipping between his lips. I couldn't help but smile back. I don't think I've ever smiled before.

"Do you know what cuwer it is? Some people told me it was owange and some people told me it was a difwent cuwer," he said.

"It's kind of in between orange and yellow; the color's called peach."

"Pethe?" I gave him another smile and he returned it, showing all his tiny off-white teeth. "It sounds wike my name! Peether Pethe! Well when I say it it does."

"Maybe I should call you Peach as a nickname," I suggested.

"Yes! I've awways wanted a nickname! Pethe id a weewy good one!"

"Okay, that's what I'll call you then," I decided.

The door to my room opened left off the short hallway of our two-bedroom apartment. The room itself was nothing special; fairly small but spacious due to my lack of belongings.

Straight across from the door was a window that opened out to the fire escape, my main getaway if I felt like leaving at night and didn't want to risk passing Dad's room. To the right of the door was nothing but a wall with a small closet in which I kept the boxes with all of my clothes, since I didn't want to bother unpacking and putting it all in a dresser if we'd just be out of here again in a few months. The rest of the room was to the left and mostly just floor space.

I didn't have a bed, just a mattress up against the wall with the door. It had several faded comforters and a few pillows. There was a little table across the room from the makeshift bed that had a small TV and a laptop underneath it. Neither were ever really used, but they were there just in case. There was a floor heater pushed into that corner as well, though it was currently unplugged. Between the table and window were a keyboard piano on a stand, an acoustic guitar also on a stand, and a chair.

There was nothing else in the entire barren room, but Peach's face lit up contentedly as he took it in. I explained that this was where we'd both pretty much live and that he was never to leave the room unless he had my permission as long as we were here. He seemed happy to comply.

I turned on the TV and found something for him to watch while I got ready for bed, taking the long folded T-shirt from my mattress with me to the bathroom. I switched out my clothes for it, washed my face and brushed my teeth and then froze just before I could leave the room. Not that it hadn't been on my mind the whole time, but it seemed like such a quick hard blow when realization struck me dead in my tracks.

What had I done? Why or even how would I think all of a sudden that I could bring this little boy home and expect to take care of him? It was hard enough to manage myself and Dad, but...how could I? I would only be ruining his life if I tried to keep him here! My legs moved automatically back to my room and I stood in the doorway just staring at him.

He had such a tiny body, both small and thin, and seemed so fragile. I imagined him in his ratty old clothes with the smudges on his face and dirt clumping his hair and saw the memory flash through my mind of him running down the street. Running from someone who wanted to kill him for no good reason! Always running. Just like my father forced me to be.

That's when I knew for sure he'd have to stay. That I HAD to protect him! That I'd give my own life to do it if that's what it took! I knew I wouldn't be the most qualifying caretaker for him; that I couldn't give him the perfect life that I'd only ever dreamed of, but I'd be the best for him. And he'd be best for me too.