Chapter Text
The first time it snows, Shadow wants to scream.
Gone are the brown leaves littering the ground everywhere that wasn't someone's lawn. The stubborn green of leaves and vines that didn't seem to get the memo. Now it's all just white, white, white, like a funeral shroud descending over the whole town.
He doesn't go for a walk that morning.
Tails manages to talk him and Knuckles into bundling up and going out to play, though, and Shadow reluctantly agrees. The glare off the snow hurts his eyes initially, but he soon forgets about it after someone stuffs snow down the back of his coat.
He dumps a whole armload on Tails' head in retaliation.
By mid-afternoon, there's three stumpy, misshapen snowcreatures lined up on the lawn. Tails spends several minutes fussing with the white spikes of what he assumes is supposed to be Sonic. Knuckles had sculpted "The ideal echidna warrior," which turns out to look an awful lot like him. And Shadow…
He stares at the three round lumps of snow and the rocks stuck into the face in the shape of a smile. There wasn't anything around to use as hair. Or a hairband.
"It's just… a snowman," he shrugs in response to Tails' chipper questioning. "I didn't make it to be anyone."
"That's okay! We can give him a name!"
"Not everyone has the artistic skill to sculpt the likeness of another hedgehog. There is no shame in that," Knuckles offers, eyeing his own 'sculpture' critically.
Shadow wants very badly to take him up on his long-ago offer of a rematch, but the echidna's already looking a bit worn around the edges. Torpor. Not the comatose silence of hibernation, but still a powerful draw for Knuckles to sleep more and be active less.
It chafes against Shadow, like having his fur brushed the wrong way, or his quills catching on something. It's a small consolation that Tails at least doesn't seem to feel any kind of seasonal pull. The kid almost seems more energetic, if anything, babbling at anyone in the house who'll listen, sketching out blueprints with hands and words.
Shadow spends a surprising amount of time with him in the garage where a space heater's been set up near the worktable. It keeps his hands busy, his mind occupied– at least for as long as the fox has things to do.
Outside, the snow keeps piling up.
Sonic gets up for Christmas.
The colorful string lights, the garlands and the tinsel and the glittering tree in the middle of the living room– it feels almost gauche without a certain blue whirlwind in the middle of it all. Shadow catches himself staring at the soft glow of it in the middle of the night, after the rest of the house has gone to bed for the night, imagining how much chaos Sonic would have brought to tree decorating.
He probably would have gotten the lights tangled up in his quills, knowing him. Or tripped over the base and sent the whole thing tumbling down.
These lights are a lot brighter than he remembers, too. Crisper. Tails had excitedly shown off how the bulbs could cycle through different programs, throwing rainbows or coruscating stripes of color across the tree. It was technically impressive, but it just made Shadow miss the yellowy glow of old lights and TV fuzz.
On Christmas morning, Maddie comes up the stairs right as the sky's going from golden dawn to the serene blue of morning.
"Rise and shine, sleepyheads," she calls, keeping her voice soft even as she starts rousing the boys.
Tails springs upright as soon as he's awake with a delighted squeal of "Christmas!"
Knuckles carefully drops back down into the attic from the skylight, instead of taking the back door like usual. "It is the time of Christ?"
"Something like that," Maddie smiles, drawing her two boys into a hug. Shadow watches from his hammock-cocoon. "You up, Shads?"
It's… strange to hear that nickname from someone else. Shadow pokes his head out and nods, and a moment later, he's hopping down and approaching to see what Madeline's up to.
She's a lot gentler about pulling down Sonic's blanket, and as such, the blue hedgehog is still entirely curled up on his side. Still. Sleeping. Not dead.
Shadow had quietly checked his pulse every morning once the others had gone downstairs.
"Alright," Madeline says, and it's like she's bracing for something. She's also got a small white packet in her hands, which she holds out towards Sonic's lax face. "He might come up running and jumping, fair warning. The first time we had to use these, my sister's kitchen was a mess."
Shadow cocks his head, leaning in closer, but Tails and Knuckles just nod like they know what's going on already.
And then Madeline snaps the packet open, and he understands immediately. Smelling salts.
Sonic does not come up running and jumping.
His nose twitches, once, twice, and then his eyes fly open. It's almost creepy, the way he stares into the distance for a beat– but then green eyes snap into focus and Sonic pushes himself upright, slow and heavy and with a huge yawn.
He has awful morning breath.
"S'it… Christmas already…?"
"Sure is, pal," Maddie smiles in relief and rubs her son's back between his quills, encouraging him. "Come on, go brush your teeth. Everyone's ready."
Shadow stares, feeling like his feet have grown roots. Tails and Knuckles and Maddie all start to filter towards the stairs leading out of the attic, with the echidna already asking after 'ceremonial breakfast confections' and Tails practically vibrating in excitement. Sonic pushes the blanket the rest of the way down and swings his feet over the side of the bed, moving like he's underwater. But moving. Awake.
And then his half-lidded eyes catch sight of Shadow.
"Oh, hey. Mornin'," he gives a groggy wave.
Shadow stares back.
Sonic seems nonplussed, pushing his feet into his red sneakers (which had sat, lined up neatly beside his bed, for almost a month). "Guess you didn't hib'rnate after all?"
He shakes his head. His tongue feels thick and uncooperative.
"Lucky-yyyyyy," Sonic croons around another yawn, huge and luxuriant. He wobbles a little when he stands up, but then he's– here. Solid. Moving.
Moving towards the stairs.
Shadow follows along behind him like he's been ensorceled, all the way to the hall bathroom, at which point the blue hedgehog turns to give him a funny look. "Uh. I'll be right down, Shads."
A beat passes.
Shadow realizes, slowly and painfully awkward, that he just tried to follow the other hedgehog into the bathroom. After he'd been asleep for a month straight.
He feels his muzzle go hot. "Right."
Another awful beat. Sonic raises an eyebrow at him, but the call of nature wins out and he ducks into the bathroom with minimal fanfare.
Shadow wants to kick himself.
He goes downstairs instead.
Sonic isn't entirely… here, but he's here enough to open presents and run excited laps around the house when he receives a new game console (which Tom is quick to remind is for all four of them, a statement which makes Shadow's stomach flip). He's grinning, he's quipping, he's gracious enough not to mention Shadow trying to follow him into the bathroom.
He also eats four plates of pancakes and a full bottle of syrup, the cretin.
"Can we go outside and play?" Tails is hovering by the window next to the tree, new toolset spread out and forgotten on the rug. It's a clear, sunny day, though the ground is still coated in a thick blanket of snow. Knuckles hardly glances up from adjusting his new gloves (embroidered with the initials KW).
Maddie does look outside, lips pursing in thought. Shadow imagines she's gauging how much of a mess they'll make coming back inside and dripping melted snow all over the foyer– but then she looks at Sonic.
Sonic, who's looking right back at her as if for permission.
"Well… Alright. But bundle up," she concedes, tweaking one of his ears. Sonic beams even as he sucks away from her hand.
"Moooom!"
And so they go outside. Shadow lowers the ski goggles Tom had got him over his eyes, adjusting the strap until they rest comfortably above his muzzle, and begins the process of bundling up. A new red scarf– crochet, Maddie corrected when he asked– and matching ear warmer to replace the now hole-ridden hat.
Sonic has a blue set, sans the goggles. He grins over at Shadow as he shrugs into his coat, transforming into a puffy blue bundle.
It's still too bright out. Shadow squints a little despite the tinted lens. Sonic immediately dives to the ground to make 'snow angels', with Knuckles and Tails following suit.
It takes about ten minutes before they're pairing off for a snowball war, buoyed by the sudden realization that they have an even number of combatants now.
Shadow gets off a spectacular shot directly into Sonic's face.
Finally, once they're all panting and sweating under their winter layers, things settle down. Tom emerges in his hideous light-up sweater, bearing a tray full of hot cocoa mugs, and they gather around the back porch to sip and regale him with tales from the snowy battlefield.
Sonic fwumps into one of the chairs by the fire pit, green eyes sparkling and half-lidded.
Shadow clomps over after a few minutes and dusts off another chair to join him, pushing his goggles down around his neck.
"So…" the blue hedgehog starts, smothering a yawn. "You really didn't hibernate?"
Shadow feels a chill that has nothing to do with the wind. "No."
"Huh. Lucky," Sonic gives him a lopsided grin. "I feel like I'm gonna nod off right here."
The revelation makes his hackles rise. He'd been a tad– slower all morning, but that was easy to explain away as being groggy. "You… You're going back after this?"
Sonic shrugs a shoulder, utterly unaware of the quiet devastation such a simple gesture calls forth. "Maybe, I dunno. It's cold out here."
Maddie's thoughtful consideration, her reminder to bundle up, echo back in Shadow's mind. "We should get you inside–"
Sonic flaps a hand at him slowly, cutting him off. "Naw, I'll just end up going all zombie mode if I fight it. Trust me, I've tried. Sleeping for a whole month–" Sonic yawns, jaw popping, his sharp little canines showing briefly. "–sucks. 'Specially when I was on my own."
Shadow hadn't considered that. Considered the logistical ramifications of Sonic hibernating alone, in his little cave, without central heating or walls or even a proper bed…
"Hey. Stoppit." He looks over again in confusion, meeting a firm if not somewhat glazed gaze. "You have that look like you smelled something bad. I didn't bring it up to make you sad, dude, it's just a fact."
"It being a fact does not negate that it is…" Sad, he trails off. Sonic seems to hear it anyway, because he kicks out one foot to nudge Shadow. But he doesn't argue it further, just lowers his nose to his mug and takes a long sip.
Shadow twitches to kick him back but stops himself, aware that in his sudden– frustration– that he'll likely use more force than he means to.
He doesn't want Sonic to go back to sleep. It's selfish, but he's still thinking of reasons to go back inside, into the warmth where maybe whatever biological clock is compelling Sonic will cease. Where he won't have to be reminded every single morning that he is different. Other.
Another nudge. Sonic presses the damp toe of his boot against Shadows calf until the other hedgehog looks up, scowling and shifting out of range. "C'mon, Shads. I thought we were past the whole silent brooding thing," he half-jokes.
Shadow gives a little huff despite himself. "I don't brood." The argument is automatic. Familiar. And that very familiarity– the way he can anticipate Sonic's grin, the answering "You totally do, dude. You're like Batman," makes his chest twist painfully.
He missed this.
He's going to miss this.
But Sonic doesn't give a quippy comeback. He hardly even smirks at Shadow's blatant denial of brooding tendencies. He
leans
in
and says, "You can cuddle with me while I'm asleep. I don't mind."
And Shadow– who had been trying to swallow down a lump of something sharp and miserable and shapeless– chokes.
"You– but you– You were asleep," he sputters, muzzle going hotter than the sun.
Sonic grins like a cat and sits back triumphantly. "So you did cuddle me! I thought Knucklehead was full of it!"
Shadow balks. Oh, for the love of… He did not just give himself away. Any residual sorrow evaporates under a wash of sheer, mortified self-recrimination, and– setting his mug on the side table so as not to shatter it in his hubris– Shadow hops down from the chair and then off the back porch altogether.
He needs space to sulk.
Sonic's laughter chases him all the way past the back fence gate, drowning out even Tom's call to not go too far.
He doesn't go far. Just enough to shake out the crawling, restless energy in his legs, until his ears don't feel like they're aflame anymore and he can think.
You can cuddle with me while I'm asleep. I don't mind.
Thinking makes his ears go hot again. With a frustrated puff of fog, Shadow leans down to snatch up a stick and snaps it in half. The crack and feeling of it breaking in his hands is satisfying.
He finds another one and does the same thing.
Stupid Sonic, turning a serious moment into a joke at his expense. It's like he's allergic to emotion, something Shadow often used to his advantage to get him to shut up or go away, but now he's weaponizing it. Now he's using it against Shadow– like making a big joke of everything will make the fact he's going back into hibernation after this hurt less.
He stops, fingers wrapped around another stick, thumbs poised to snap it in half.
He tosses it aside unbroken.
Sonic's going away again.
Slowly, picking his way through the undisturbed snow along his usual footpath, he makes his way to the log he sat on when he was still going for walks. It's coated in snow, of course, but a quick brush with his coat-clad arm takes care of the worst of it.
He feels like he weighs a thousand pounds as he sits, shoulders drooping in relief.
It's completely, stiflingly silent out here. No birds. No leaves rustling. Hell, there isn't even any wind. It's like the world itself has gone to sleep.
Like the world is dead.
Like Sonic will be for weeks after this. Like he had been, held in stasis between alive and gone for fifty years.
His boots scuff against bark as Shadow draws them up to his chest and wraps his arms around them.
He wants to hibernate with him. Wants to sleep away the time so he won't have to wait through it for Sonic to come back.
But he's– different.
" –adow! Hey!"
He almost doesn't hear it, even in the perfect, sterile silence. Shadow lifts his head so fast it makes his neck twinge.
"Shadooowwwww!"
It's Sonic. Because of course it is. He scuffs his glove across his muzzle roughly, tries to smooth down his fur with his fingers so it doesn't look rumpled or damp, as the blue blur spies his resting place and starts tromping over through his tracks.
Later, Shadow will wonder if Sonic wasn't just making noise to warn him. He could have just followed his wake through the snow straight to him.
"Hey," he sounds a little winded as he approaches, breath puffing out in a little fog in front of his face. The snow's a bit deeper here– just about up to their waists. "You're gonna… miss the parade. C'mon!"
How long has he been out here? Shadow glances up at the sky and is surprised to see it starting to bleed from blue to gold.
Now that he's aware of the amount of time passed, he realizes his fingers, ears, and toes have gone numb.
With a grimace Shadow uncurls from his ball, lowering tingling legs back down. "It's fine. I'm–"
"Don't even start with that shit, dude," Sonic cuts him off. The expletive paired with the edge of steel in his tone makes Shadow nearly startle off the log altogether. "I hate that you– You just act okay all the time when you're not. Don't you trust us??"
He didn't shout– the opposite, even– but to Shadow it seems like his words carry across the empty landscape for miles. He's holding Shadow's gaze, not looking aside or smirking as he softens the blow. No. He's… serious.
Shadow ends up breaking that stare first. "Tch. If I didn't trust you lot, I wouldn't sleep in the same house," he grouses, voice thick with something unnameable.
Sonic throws his hands up like that's somehow the wrong answer. "Dude. It's been months– like, half a year by now– and you're still doing this stoic badass thing." Shadow opens his mouth to protest, or to call him out on his language, he's not sure, but Sonic steamrolls right over him. "Hibernating sucks for me. I miss out on all– all this," he gestures around them, at the snow, the sky, the horrible stillness like it's something worth wanting. "Knuckles sorta gets it with his stupid torpor or whatever, but it's not the same. I hate it so much. But I hate seeing how much it's messing with you even more."
The silence that follows that statement feels like it's smothering him. Shadow stares, taking that all in. He… he knew?
He must have said that out loud, because Sonic gives an incredulous huff and turns to look off to the side. Are… are his ears going pink? "No duh. It's pretty obvious you're in a funk about not hibernating, too. Which by the way, you should be glad you don't have to sleep through winter, it–"
If Shadow were the kind to show his emotions more openly, he thinks his jaw would have dropped when Sonic catches himself rambling and stops. The world must be ending, surely.
"–Not important. What I'm trying to say is… It's okay to be sad, dude. I get it." Green eyes flick to him, unsure but steady. Shadow feels like he's being pinned by that gaze alone. "Tails bawled when he figured out what was going on. Shoot– after that first winter I thought Mom and Dad were never gonna let me out of their sight again. It sucks for everyone."
The others were upset, too? Shadow frowns and casts his mind back. Thinks of Tails' nonchalant explanation. Knuckles' solemn commiseration with Sonic about 'torpor'. Even Tom and Maddie had acted like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Acted.
He just about smacks himself across the face as the word sinks in. They acted like everything was fine. They were casual about it, because the alternative would be–
Well. What Shadow's doing now, that's what.
A beat passes. Sonic leans forward to look up at Shadow's face, concern and a tiny bit of hope. Shadow ducks his head until his scarf hides the bottom half of his face, chagrined. How could he have missed it? The signs were so obvious now that he has the benefit of hindsight.
Everyone was mourning Sonic's absence.
"I…" he starts, when the silence has stretched so far it feels like a noose about his throat. "I… Expect a race when you're back for good."
I'm going to miss you.
Quiet.
Shadow dares to glance up after a few more beats, anxious and tense and ready to take it back or slap some more barbed words on top of the admission to cover it up.
What he sees sends all such thoughts, all his frustrated embarrassment, scattering. "Sonic?!"
Sonic's fallen backwards into the hedgehog-sized snow trench behind him. Silent. Still.
Or– not. Once Shadow gets past that initial rush of panic, blood rushing in his ears as he hops down and then drops to his knees next to the other hedgehog, he realizes Sonic's snoring softly.
The cold must have shocked his system.
He could laugh at the irony of it– he came out here to mope about Sonic leaving them again, only for Sonic himself to chase after and then end up succumbing to his own biological clock once more.
Shadow huffs a sound that he'll insist for the rest of his life is a laugh.
And then he reaches out to lift the dead weight that is Sonic out of his little snowdrift.
Knuckles and Tails spot them first. Shadow braces on instinct as an orange streak blurs towards him, followed shortly by a larger one in red, and then he's surrounded.
"Sonic!"
"Has he succumbed to the elements–"
It's a lot all at once, but Shadow sets his jaw and keeps walking towards the house. The sooner they get inside, the better chance that Sonic…
…will still be sound asleep.
"Yep," Maddie confirms, eyes on her watch as she listens to his heartbeat through a stethoscope. They're all crowded around the couch where Sonic's been gently laid down, a couple blankets tucked around him. He's breathing slowly, almost too shallow to see his chest move at all. "He's not getting up again 'til New Years, at least."
Shadow tries not to look disappointed. Is keenly aware that, to either side and behind him, the rest of the Wachowskis are practically radiating the exact same disappointment. The wrapping paper and bows and ribbons from their presents are still strewn about the floor, forming a semicircle of holiday carnage around the couch. There's some sort of Christmas parade on the TV.
And… Sonic's succumbed to the cold once more. And what's worse, it's Shadow's own damn fault for running off on him. The sting of guilt and powerlessness makes his fists curl.
"Couldn't we wake him up again?" he tries.
Maddie shakes her head as she starts putting up her vet bag. "No. I'm sorry, sweetie. Sonic insists on being up for Christmas, but otherwise it's not a good idea to mess with his circadian rhythm too much."
Shadow barely feels the hand that comes to rest on his shoulder, staring hard at Sonic's sleeping face.
But he does feel the featherlight weight of a head coming to rest on his other shoulder. Shadow tries not to jerk away, every muscle going taut, as he looks down in surprise.
Tails is leaning his head onto Shadow. On purpose.
He feels his heart leap, and then clench, as he realizes Madeline is rubbing slow circles into his fur with her thumb. And just past Tails, Knuckles is staring solemnly at Sonic, purple eyes inscrutable.
They all miss him, too.
"…I'm sorry," Shadow pushes the words past his lips, throat tight. "If I hadn't…"
The hand on his shoulder squeezes. "Oh, honey, no," Maddie cuts him off. "We knew Sonic was probably going to crash if he went outside to play. It wasn't anyone's fault."
Shadow purses his lips, ears pinned down. "But I–"
"Mother is right," Knuckles adds. Shadow has to brace himself as a broad hand reaches over to drape across his shoulders. It's so much more physical contact than Shadow's had… well, ever, outside of Sonic's tendency to hang all over everyone. The thought just makes his throat tighten further and Shadow tucks his chin into his chest, willing his eyes to stop welling up. "Sonic was well aware of this, too. He wanted to enjoy the snow with us. And so he did."
"It's okay to be sad," Tails mumbles against him. The little fox has gone from just leaning into Shadow to holding one of his arms with his own, crowded in by Knuckles. Standing in front of the couch where Sonic's laid out, it's like they're mourners at a wake.
Dammit.
Mercifully, none of the Wachowskis says a word when Shadow reaches up to wipe his muzzle, teeth ground so tight it makes his jaw ache. Tom kneels down next to his wife, drawing an arm around her and the other around his boys, and for a moment it's just… quiet.
Quiet like the desolate snowscape outside. Like Sonic.
"Okay," Maddie says eventually, sighing thickly. Shadow tries to be quiet about sniffling as everyone seems to take the cue and starts to draw apart, ending the half-embrace. "Why don't we get our sleepyhead back up to bed and then put on a movie, hm?"
Tails perks up and offers a title that Shadow isn't familiar with. Tom straightens up with a final squeeze to Shadow's shoulder, stepping closer to the couch to gather up Sonic's sleeping form.
He pauses at Shadow's hesitant query. "Actually… Can I…?"
Sonic's heavier than he looks. The snow boots, coat, hat and scarf were all gently removed from his person when they came inside, but even so. Shadow hefts him a little in his arms as he ascends the attic stairs, one careful step at a time, ignoring the faint twinge in his leg.
Below, he can hear the opening swell of a film score. Someone makes a comment, low like they're trying to keep their voice down. Quiet laughter in response.
The attic– his and the Wachowski brothers' room– is lit up with fairy lights. The sheets on Sonic's racecar bed are still rumpled. Shadow takes a moment to smooth them with one hand before setting the other hedgehog down, mindful of his quills. Sonic lolls his head to the side, limp as a doll. His features are lax and smooth. Peaceful.
Peaceful, Shadow repeats to himself. Living.
With equal care, he draws the blanket up over the other boy. Folds it down at his chin, tucks a stray foot back in.
It's okay to be sad.
He balls his fists at his sides. If only he hadn't gone off in a fit of embarrassment. If only he'd come back sooner, before Sonic had to go trudging through the snow after him. If only…
He lets the sob break past his lips now that he's alone. Lets the tears dribble over his cheeks.
Lets himself crawl into the bed, on top of the duvet he just tucked around Sonic, and curl up next to him. He smells like cinnamon and damp fur and the aching, comforting warmth of slumber.
"You… better be ready for that race when you get up," Shadow mumbles against soft blue fur.
And he sleeps.