Chapter Text
The house was dark, the TV's murmur barely audible over the droning sound of the storm outside. Now and again, there would be a bright flash followed by a ground-shaking roar from the sky.
Sonic the Hedgehog sniffled, attempting to readjust himself on the couch but failing and sinking back down into the cushions with a groan of discontent. His muscles ached, his head pounded, and on his body raged a fever unlike any he'd ever had before. He'd never really gotten sick, he'd had allergies sure, and a fever now and again when he got stressed, but it was always so mild that the hero hadn't even noticed them at the time. It was always his friends who told him that something was off.
But this, this was something like never before. Across his body were small welts that itched and burned and would bleed when he scratched at them. Which was usually when he fell asleep. He would wake up almost immediately after itching one of those blisters, the pain being so bad it was impossible to miss it. His fur was falling out too in places where the blisters were grouped up. Part of his face was completely bald now, along with large swaths of his back and hips, and his arms as well. It didn't help with the feeling of being cold. He pulled the blankets up a little closer, wincing as it felt like dragging a hot knife over his body. He wanted to sleep so badly, but the cold that constantly harassed his abused skin wouldn't let him.
He was woken, for once, not by the sting of an agitated welt but by the sound of the back door crunching open. It banged against the countertop and tried to swing back shut through momentum, but a dark figure slipped through before it could. Sonic's blurry eyesight almost couldn't identify the person, his brain feeling abnormally foggy and his throat parched. There was a voice speaking, it was deep and rough and vaguely familiar. A hand touched his face, there was an exclamation, and the blanket was ripped away. The coldness of the room attacked his clammy skin immediately, ruthlessly, and he could only weakly protest.
The hands returned, lifting him painfully from the damp couch and carting him into another room. A colder room. There was a stinging pain everywhere the hands touched. Like thousands of tiny red ants biting his skin. He was sitting on a cold, hard seat. It sounded hollow. His eyes cracked open and around the haze of yellow crystal he could see white.
It occurred to him that the color of the yellow crystals did not look very appealing next to the bright whiteness of the cold room. They clung to his eyelids, stinging and pinching and pulling when he tried to open them wider than just a crack. As his awareness slowly returned, he became aware of what was holding him up. A black hand. Sonic's eyesight was still too blurry and impeded by the crystals to recognize it though. It was placed on his chest, fingers presumably spread to hold him up, while the rest of the unidentified stranger was outside of his range of vision.
Suddenly he was lifted again, his body curled and then…
Then it was cold . And it hurt. The idea that the room had been cold before now seemed like a joke to his addled brain. Sonic gave a strangled shriek and tried to curl up, tried to preserve what little warmth his burning body seemed to have, but those wretched hands forced him to straighten out while splashing water onto his torso and face, fingers rubbing over his eyes trying to remove the yellow shards. It was agony, it was hell, and Sonic couldn't help but sob a little as the welts on his skin burned under the cold, reddened water.
Slowly, the cold water defeated the weakened blue hedgehog's fever, driving it back down and bringing his body back to a safe temperature. It was still not ideal, but no longer was it lethal. The yellow crusts had been carefully removed, letting those shaky, watery green eyes open properly for the first time in who knows how long.
Shadow was surprised the boy was even still breathing right now. He'd been dangerously hot when the black hedgehog had arrived, and then nearly sent into shock when Shadow panicked and dunked him in the bathtub. Hearing Sonic cry like that had been hard, but it had to be done to cool him down. Now the boy was asleep on the freshly cleaned couch, a small throw blanket was draped over the back of the couch, waiting to be put over the sick hero once his wounds had been tended to.
Shadow winced each time Sonic squirmed or whimpered, the black hedgehog was doing his best to clean and cover the blisters with as minimal pain and discomfort as possible, but clearly it wasn't so easy to do. The skin was red and agitated, and each time too much pressure was applied Sonic would try to pull away. Dousing them with alcohol so far was the fastest way to clean them, but Sonic cried and fought each time. Shadow understood that though, he'd seen how awful this disease was at the hospital. He was just happy to have found Sonic when he did.
"Oooowwww…." Sonic moaned, and Shadow considered it a win. It was the first sound other than a whimper or sob that Sonic had produced since Shadow had arrived. Shadow was silent, continuing his hard task of treating each blister and covering it with a bandage to protect against further agitation.
Some patches of the sickly hero’s body were entirely bare of fur, and in other places, it was bare of skin, only bubbled, blistered flesh that the darker male treated with utmost care. It was those fleshy blisters that were the hardest to clean as they were clearly the most agonizing when touched, Sonic’s whimpers turning into outright cries when the wounds were assaulted with medicine. With a heavy sigh, Shadow peered out of the front window of the living room as he finished up the hero's left arm. The thunderstorm was still going, parts of the streets were flooded and down the hill the lights of the closest neighbors were flickering before they finally went out. Sonic's house lost power too almost immediately after. Shadow wasn't surprised though, he'd known the power grid would fail soon, no one was there to maintain it.
Now, the house was silent without the drone of the TV to fill it. Only the rasping, pain-filled gasps and cries of the suffering teenager on the couch disrupted the sound of the rain.
Shadow gave another sigh, giving the weak teen a look-over to make sure he hadn't missed any blisters. His mind was occupied with worry, despite his behavior. Sonic's chances of survival were dwindling the longer he went without proper medical attention, but the doctors in the hospitals were incompetent. Thousands were dying. Every day the hospitals were drowning under more and more bodies.
Wracking his brain, Shadow tried to think of anyone who could pull off a miracle. Because that's what it would take to save Sonic now. The second stage of this disease, the point in which people started losing huge patches of skin, was considered the final stage. No one lived long afterwards. Organ shutdown caused by the body overheating killed quickly. Sonic had nearly been taken once already.
It was half past midnight when it occurred to Shadow where he could take Sonic. Where the small hedgehog had a chance at survival. He scooped up the blue speedster in his arms, wincing as Sonic mewled in pain, and pulled a shining red gem from his quills. “Chaos Control.”
The greenish fluid of the tank bubbled and churned, waiting for its charge to be deposited in the depths. Shadow peered down into the tank once, before turning his attention back to Sonic, who was still shivering in his arms. The blanket he was loosely wrapped in was nothing compared to the coldness of space, and the life support systems, mainly the heating, had been idle for a very long time.
The ARK had been without any residents -aside from Shadow- for nearly forty years, but that did not mean that it was run-down. No, the technical marvel that was the colony still ran as flawlessly as it did the day it launched. Everything was just still booting up.
Crouching, Shadow balanced Sonic’s lower half on one of his knees and used his available hand to test the temperature of the tank. “Still too cold…” He murmured to himself, withdrawing his fingers and shaking them dry. Sonic shuddered when a few droplets landed on his chest, which was bald from the disease attacking his skin. “Sorry Faker.” Shadow gently wiped away the cold fluid, wincing as the top layer of Sonic’s skin tore at the slight touch. Thankfully, it wasn’t a huge tear, nor was it deep enough to bleed.
While waiting for the tank to warm up, Shadow took several samples of blood, tissue, and fur from Sonic, murmuring soft comforts and quiet praises the whole time to try and keep the boy from fighting too much. “You’re going to be alright, Sonic. I promise you, like I promised Maria, that I will take care of you. No matter the cost.” He gave the sick teen a gentle hug, trying to comfort him. He was rewarded with Sonic opening his eyes for the first time since he’d passed out on his couch back on Mobius. His green eyes were unfocused and tired, but it gave Shadow hope. That was all he needed.