Chapter Text
Hypomania was not something that Sonic thought he had. Nor the other terms that Tails had just thrown at him over a previously peaceful breakfast.
Then again, he was a blue hedgehog with super speed and a concerning addiction with chili dogs who fought one world ending threat after the other and called it a Tuesday. Perhaps there were several things to look at but his hypomania was the focus, after a slightly concerning spar he had with his all-time favorite rival, who happened to be a darker, edgier hedgehog with a resting glower and lovely crimson eyes.
The spar in question had made said rival ask questions, and Sonic had answered them all wrong, apparently, hence why he now sat in the house he shared with Tails, faced by the fox himself while two bowls of cereal and the box they originated from sitting in the sad space between them. Some sugary kind they both liked, but details were irrelevant here as the two had a staring contest that Sonic hadn’t expected himself to be in at 8 A.M. on a Monday.
“I’m not a hippomaniac, Tails, that’s not even a word!”
“Hypomanic.” His brother corrected. His arms remained crossed over his chest in an effort to remain intimidating, but it wasn’t having the desired effect on the other, unfortunately. “Also, that is a word.”
“Weird word.” Sonic mumbled.
“You’re derailing this conversation!” Tails scolded.
“You started it with the big fancy words, I’m just playing along!” Sonic defended, hands held up in a mock placating gesture. “Why use em’ anyway?”
“Because you’re not as stupid as you make yourself seem, Sonic, and I know that you know what the word means.”
The blue hedgehog rolled his eyes, but Tails was right—Sonic was smart, he would have to be to survive the world ending threats mentioned above—though he didn’t like admitting this. He kind of preferred that people thought he was dumb. Better to underestimate, right? But no, not to Tails apparently. Although the fox himself was notorious for getting of track just like Sonic was, he had enough mind this time not to, because this was important.
Shadow had brought up concerns to Tails after the last fight he and Sonic had, specifically about words said and heard (not that Sonic had thought twice about them then or now) and if Shadow was worried, it was worth worrying about.
Sonic didn’t see an issue. He said random things all the time, and it wasn’t like it was a total lack of a filter—he had one, that wasn’t a doubt—he just saw nothing wrong with what he’d said. But Shadow did, and now so did Tails, and that was how Sonic had suddenly been subjected to the ‘hypomanic’ conversation. He didn’t even really remember what he’d said that was so bad it warranted the weakest intervention he’d ever seen. Or been apart of. But here he was, sitting at the kitchen table, not eating his junk food cereal and instead listening to Tails rattle off medical nonsense mixed with true brotherly concern. Why had Tails and Shadow come to the conclusion of hypomanic? That was honestly just the surface level concern. The spar itself had been insinuated when Sonic had coaxed it out of his dark rival—as per usual—and was eagerly accepted when Shadow’s response was immediately aggressive. Sonic had never seen a problem—this was normal!
Maybe it was the laughter between hits, or the utter joy he felt rush through him when Shadow had managed to pin him to the dirt below, his gloved palm pressed against a blue furred throat that bobbed with a brief swallow.
Whatever Sonic had said between the start and end of that fight had clearly left Shadow with some uncomfortable realities. Sonic couldn’t recall everything he’d said that night. He was on a great high of… well, something! Perhaps it was adrenaline, or something he couldn’t immediately name. Whatever it was, Sonic didn’t quite believe their worries. It had never hurt other around him, so who cared? Well, he did, which is why if it were hurting the people around him, then he’d start worrying too, but all of his friends were pretty vocal when it came to these things so he’d damn well know if he was hurting them.
But he was off topic. Tails had been describing hypomania for the last five minutes, and while some of it was close to what Sonic felt, it wasn’t right. He didn’t become irrational, and he wasn’t reckless without good reason (that’s what he told himself). Yes, he felt that euphoric buzz but he felt a buzz of energy all the time! That was the price for being the fasted thing alive! And okay, maybe he made too many risky decisions in his lifetime, but that’s just what happened when you were the worlds hero. You had to make tough decisions sometimes, even if they were reckless and dangerous and put himself in harms way.
His point was, nothing’s wrong. He’s Sonic, that’s all you had to know anyway.
Tails and Shadow were being the irrational ones here, looking for problems when there were none. Maybe it was boredom—Dr. Eggman had been pretty quiet lately, but it was also the beginning of summer and as mad as the doctor was, he had the sense to go on a little summer vacation if he felt like it. Not telling anyone and letting them get paranoid was just the fun little bonus. Whatever it was, hypomania or something-something or any of the other things the fox had said that were already evaporating as soon as they bounced off Sonic’s mind, Sonic didn’t have it.
He was fine! He wasn’t normal, by any means, but he was fine.
He'd just have to prove it, right? How hard could that be?