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“You should wear the Santa hat.”
“I’m not wearing the damn hat, Rouge.”
It was Christmas Eve, and Shadow was preparing to go on his present run - he devised this method of gift delivery as a way of avoiding the awkwardness of giving them in person. All his gifts were wrapped in metallic black paper, glittery dark red bows tied around them, his unmistakable colour scheme. Each tag was carefully stuck to the side of each box, names printed neatly in large black letters. All the boxes were piled on the back of Dark Rider, making a comically tall mountain of goth Christmas presents.
It was nearing midnight now, and all his intended recipients were (supposed to be) asleep, allowing him to strike. Well, that’s how Omega put it.
“The hat is thematically relevant.” Omega also thought Shadow should wear the Santa hat.
“I spent so long trying to find it…” Rouge batted her eyelids, putting on her sweetest voice.
“It took you five minutes. I’m not wearing the hat.” Shadow had resolve.
“Please… for me…?”
Shadow no longer had resolve.
Placing the hat on his head, he grumbled, pouting as he looked back up at his ecstatic bat friend. She gave a delighted yell, while Omega gave a nod (a bow?) of approval at his thematically relevant attire. Shadow rolled his eyes, though a smirk tugged at his lips as he turned towards his motorcycle, swiftly and gracefully mounting it, giving a couple of revs before speeding off into the night. As he disappeared down the street, Rouge turned back to Omega, eyes sparkling with intent.
“Omega, how long until he’s back?”
“Shadow at optimum speed; visiting nine houses total; adjusting for distance; adding trespassing contingency; arrangement time; sentimental staring duration… Shadow will return in two hours and forty-five minutes.”
“Plenty of time… let’s get started on that cake, Omega. We can triple layer it!”
~
The rush of wind past Shadow’s face was nothing new, but the space was definitely something unfamiliar. He sped through the night; doubly appreciating the smoother, quieter engine Tails had equipped his bike with just two months prior. This meant he didn’t have to make multiple trips on foot – or skate, he supposed – in order to remain undetected.
He turned softly around a wide left, slowing outside of an… eccentric house. Tails’ residence was purpose built as mostly a workshop, at least originally, its more homely extension being added afterwards. Sonic stayed there often. As a traveller, he didn’t deem it practical to have his own home, preferring to crash with Tails, who seemed more than happy to put him up. This swiftly prompted the fox to begin making a proper living space and giving Shadow room to snoop around in the dark.
Recovering their respective present boxes from the top of the pile (of course, having planned his route), he unlatched a window and snuck in, rather impractically insisting on balancing the presents as he snaked through the gap. A large living room, a large circular rug lined with sofas, a Christmas tree up in the corner next to a fireplace that, probably, had never been used. Shadow questioned if it even could be used. The room was quaintly decorated, mostly in neutral tones, something Shadow still found surprising, even after finding out that they asked their neighbours for help with the interior design. Though, the Christmas decorations were appropriately obnoxious, especially the tinsel, light, and bauble clad tree. It already had a scattering of presents underneath, their wrapping paper much more cheerful and colourful than Shadow’s choice. He took his boxes and tucked them behind the rest, letting them tower over the rest of the presents like a watchful guardian.
He stood back for a second and admired his short handiwork, leaning back in to adjust one of the boxes so it sat at a casual angle. His moment was rudely interrupted, however, as he heard movement from the staircase behind him. Swiftly ducking in front of the sofa, he listened out. The steps were quick, rapid, and even – clearly Sonic. He passed by the wide doorframe and into the kitchen, where the fridge was opened. A quiet buzz sounded alongside some light rummaging, accompanied by a few idle noises from the blue hedgehog. Eventually, he shut the fridge, having recovered something of his tastes from it.
Shadow prepped himself for a swift dash to the window, which he had neglected to close on his way in. However, this plan did not execute the way he wanted it to, as Sonic decided to lean on the doorframe of the living room instead, making his way through a packet of sliced ham as he did so. ‘In hindsight,’ Shadow thought, ‘I should have left when Sonic was busy with the fridge.’ Now, he was starting to cramp up from his awkward positioning. ‘Why did he decide to eat a packet of ham at midnight? Why stand in the living room doorway while doing it? Why is he walking into the living room towards the window I entered through? Why did I leave it open?!’
Of course, Sonic had noticed the chilly air seeping into the room by now and decided to go check it out. Shadow watched as Sonic stuck his head out the window, looking about for evidence of trespassers – luckily, Dark Rider was parked just out of sight. Shadow could not bring himself to move, despite knowing that Sonic would see him upon turning around. All he could do is squeeze his eyes shut and hope not to be caught…
Meanwhile, Sonic turned around and immediately saw Shadow, uncomfortably squashed up against the sofa, eyes tightly shut. It was a comical sight, but Sonic restrained his laughter. He was odd, in many ways, but he found it charming. Cute, even. Sonic sauntered back out to the kitchen, re-sealing the packet of ham, then returning upstairs, launching himself back into bed. He soon returned to a restful slumber, though not before glancing up at his little photos, spotting one of him and Shadow, in which, against all odds, had Shadow smiling in it.
Back in the living room, Shadow slinked away, out of the window, stretching in the moonlight. How the hell was he not seen? He elected not to question it, jogging back to his bike, and mounting it again, off to Amy’s quaint little cottage.
~
Rouge and Omega were covered in flour. A calibration error, according to Omega, is what sent the bag flying across the counter, spilling out everywhere, including on Rouge. At least she overprepared.
“I still can’t believe this recipe is calling for hot coffee,” Rouge grumbled, flicking on the kettle. “And point thirteen of a teaspoon of salt. What normal person can measure point thirteen of a teaspoon?”
“Baking is a science,” Omega said, rhythmically whisking the dry ingredients together in a large bowl. Weirdly, he found this fun, despite it not being at all violent or destructive. Much the opposite, really. He came to a stop as he finished with those, moving onto the smaller bowl. As he did this, Rouge added the coffee grounds into a small jug, slowly filling it with the boiling water from the kettle. As the coffee swirled, she began to wish that Shadow drank it normally, finding the process to be rather beautiful. Still, she often wasn’t up early enough to see him anyway, so the sight would remain rare.
Perhaps that’s what made it more precious.
Pouring the hot coffee into the bowl with the soft butter, she nearly forgot to pay attention to how much she put in. She whisked it herself, finishing at the same time as Omega. As she added everything together, she imagined Shadow’s reaction, every subtle movement as his mood shifted. Appealing to his sweet tooth was always rewarding.
~
All the other houses were easy. Amy’s cottage was well lit, even in the night, making navigation a breeze. Vanilla’s house was huge, though he didn’t remember it that way, and both are heavy sleepers. Team Chaotix live in a fortified fortress, or at least it felt like they did, but they also had ventilation shafts, so Rouge’s techniques came in handy for that one. The Babylon Rogues, appropriately, live super high up, Shadow cursing them out on his climb up, his heart nearly stopping as one of the presents slipped half-way up. Eggman also has a heavily defended fortress, but also many, many weaknesses ready to exploit, and exploited they were. Big’s house was by far the trickiest to access, sitting at the edge of a swamp, forcing Shadow to jump lily pads. Silver & Blaze’s place, though uninhabited nine months of the year, was surprisingly easy to get into, though he was extra cautious – both are known to be incredibly light sleepers.
Now, he stood at the edge of the ocean, taking deep breaths. The journey to Angel Island, in absence of better terminology, was a pain in the ass. Getting up there was awful but skating across the sea was a careful art in itself. Good thing he practiced. Shadow couldn’t be mad at Knuckles for staying up there. He got why he did it, and he understood the need for isolation.
He pushed off, gliding across the gentle waves.
Since he began living with Rouge and Omega, his need for solitude diminished. Obviously, he still wanted his time alone, but it was way less now. He wants to be around them, he enjoys the time he spends with them, and… he loves them.
He twirled on the sparkling, salty surface, dancing in time with the wind.
They’re important to him. He looks forward to every interaction, every conversation, no matter how short, or brief, or insignificant.
The stars twinkle in the sky, the moon shines down, the wind changes direction.
Shadow sincerely hopes that Knuckles sees his friends the same way. He wonders that perhaps the rarity keeps his love strong. That doesn’t make sense, though.
A wave grows and crashes, as he flies over it gracefully.
Perhaps he’s scared of rejection. Shadow knows that plunge will be worth it, but does Knuckles? He remembers the reluctant first mornings, the stilted conversation as the three got used to each other. His anxiety used to be so bad then, always fearing the worst when he made a mistake.
Saltwater sprays and misses.
He remembers his hands being taken ever so gently by Rouge, her reassurance. Many, many times, over and over, small reminders that he’s wanted and understood and accepted, every time he needed it.
The islands appear in the sky.
And he repays. Wholeheartedly. Small gifts, her love language. Time spent, his. They know each other well.
A star falls.
Shadow wishes for Knuckles a much more loved life, a life like his.
~
The three-layered chocolate cake stood proud on the kitchen counter, still a little warm from the oven, letting the icing melt a little over it. Everything had been cleared so impressively swiftly, too, and now all that was left was for Shadow to return. Just as Omega had predicted, he returned at quarter to three, stumbling through the door, smelling mildly of salt. He entered the kitchen, unable to even process anything before Rouge spoke up.
“We thought you’d be hungry after your busy night, so we baked something…” She gestured toward the cake, and Shadow’s eyes widened. He approached slowly, inspecting it with caution. Eventually, he looked up at Rouge, subtle but clear excitement in his face.
Suddenly, there were two plates on the counter, and soon both food-consumption-capable beings were sat at the counter making their way through their slices. Omega elected to watch, still capable of processing the smell of the cake, enjoying it thoroughly.
Eventually, the three of them packed up for the night, at quarter past three. It was lucky that Vanilla’s Christmas party was at five in the evening, or they might never have made it.