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Several years passed since the defeat of Black Doom. Since he’d enlisted at G.U.N. Since he regained his memory. Yet, after all those years, Rouge could tell Shadow was still haunted by everything that had happened.
The reoccurring nightmares were an obvious sign. While Shadow had them less frequently in recent years, every so often, they’d return with a vengeance. He never told her what they were about. Most mornings, he’d often go to great lengths to cover up that he even had them. But, each time she heard a pained cry, followed by someone furiously shuffling about in the apartment in the middle of the night, she immediately knew why.
In the past, Shadow was more open with her. If he had an especially bad nightmare, he’d let her sit with him on the couch for a little while, even if he never said a word. Sometime within the past two and a half years, however, things had begun to change. Often, when they were alone together, he’d leave the room if she got too close to him in any way. It was usually when she was physically close, like when they sat on the same surface like the living room couch, the bench out on the balcony, or at the edge of her bed. Sometimes, though, she’d say something to him that cut too deep. Whenever she so much as hinted that she knew something was bothering him, he’d turn and hide.
Rouge had a few suspicions as to why he’d changed. For one, she knew Shadow wanted to move on from the uglier parts of his past, even if that meant never talking about it. He hoped the pain would go away as time went by and didn’t want anyone to know he was suffering, not even his closest friends. But, there was another reason Shadow had grown distant, one she only knew of because it mirrored her own feelings for the hedgehog: Shadow loved her.
His attraction towards her grew more and more apparent with time. He foolishly believed that she was oblivious, hence why he’d blush and run away when they grew too close. More than anything, Rouge wanted to run after him. To let her know that the feeling was mutual, that it lingered deep within her ever since he rescued her from the vault on Prison Island.
“Oh my, that was so long ago.” The 24-year-old bat said to herself as she stood outside the door to Shadow’s bedroom. She held a pale pink envelope close to her chest.
Shadow wasn’t in there. He wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours. It was the perfect time for her to leave the note on his bed. And, just to make sure he wouldn’t miss it, she sprayed the whole thing with her most potent smelling perfume. Inside was a short note detailing her concerns about his mental health, along with a business card.
He’d spoken to a few professionals in the past, but none of them lasted more than a few sessions. None of them were fully equipped to tackle his case. And there was nothing they could prescribe to help with the depression. The chaos energy in his bloodstream overruled the benefits—and potential side effects—that any available medication could’ve provided.
Still, Rouge hoped Shadow would give this new person a chance. It took her weeks to find a psychiatrist she felt would be a good fit for the hedgehog. Had Sonic not suggested this new guy to her, she’d probably still be looking. There was no guarantee that things would work out. But, ultimately, she knew it was worth a shot. Shadow still had a lot of deep-seated trauma he needed help with. Help that she and all of their friends were ill-equipped to provide. For now, she’d have to put off telling him about her true feelings. Him getting the help he needed took precedence over everything else.