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Here we are, falling. Slowly. He holds me up, having caught my wrist, and strains as the earth pulls me back, but this will not work for much longer;
He will let go.
I always wanted to die, clean and pretty
“Let go.” Is what I say. It’s what he needs to do. It’s less of a command, and more of an… acceptance. Of the inevitable.
His expression shifts into something I know, searching in disbelief for my recognition of this in my eyes.
“No!” His face drops. “No, I’m not just gonna let you- you choose to die! I-“
“I’ve played my role, it’s like you said, Sonic. I fulfilled my purpose. This is what has to happen.” I try to smile.
He closes his eyes so violently, as if my effort at smiling would scald him. I’m out of practice, apparently. Doesn’t mean he gets to be rude.
“Don’t say that!” When he opens his eyes again, they’re tinted red and watery. This is not going well. Perhaps subtlety would work better.
I gently attempt to pry his hands off of my arms, but he squeezes tighter. I rest mine atop his instead of fighting it, how stubborn is he. Careful to not sound any alarms, careful for him not to do something we’ll both regret. His face crumbles dreadfully before pulling me into an embrace.
I don’t have much time. I stare into the abyss past his shoulder. I can see the ARK moving farther and farther away in the horizon.
The energy from the Master Emerald seeps from my muscles, as well as the negative Chaos Energy I’ve been harboring in my body, a vessel.
Yes, over his shoulder, I see midnight black snake from under my gloves, and steadily up my arms, a symbol of newfound mortality. Vessel soon to be disposed of, it’s purpose dwindling rapidly.
This is exhausting.
But I’d be too busy on working days
“M-Maria would have wanted you to live. Please, Shadow,”
Tears spill in little, wobbly orbs from his eyes, suspended in space with the absence of gravity and air. We can only breathe here because of our super forms. Part of me hopes I don’t die suffocating. I’ve heard it’s not a pleasant way to go.
We are still falling. He needs to leave, now.
“I, I don’t know if I can do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.” He says things he doesn’t mean pressed into my chest. This embrace is warm, kind. He will protect earth, bring hope to humanity, this I know.
I observed him, as he fought the BioHazard; I met my conclusion too late.
God, Maria would have loved him.
“PleaseShadow we can just go back to the ARK and forget all of this and I won’t talk to you again if you want but please fight I can’t lose you” He says things he doesn’t mean, things he won’t mean, things he will forget. I really hope he forgets.
He says words, mumbles pathetically, desperately, muzzle pushed into the crook of my neck, wetly, as his tears and nose run and breaths shudder into my fur. This may be how I die, if he continues choking me with his arm. His other loops under my armpit, crushing my ribcage, grabbing a fistful of quills on my back.
So I am relieved that the turbulence wasn’t forecasted
“Don’t cry,” Softly, gently, tiredly, it’s all the same. He needs to let go, but I lack the convincing words. I don’t think I’ve been the best with words for as long as I have been alive. Bluntness has always been easier (And in the end, I take the easy way out).
“Sonic, if you don’t let go, we will both die.”
There’s no response from him. This is getting nowhere. I make my decision.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s go.” Is what I whisper.
I hate lying, hate knowing lying will be one of my final actions, how shitty is that.
He finally breathes. He doesn’t know we’re too far away, with his back faced to the shrinking ARK, doesn’t know that I will send him alone. He doesn’t know this will kill me. Deliver the final blow so to speak.
I can feel the silent relief echo through his body. I hope he can forgive me. I hope he knows I’m sorry.
“Thank you.” He says, voice breaking. He doesn’t let go, but he relaxes ever-so-slightly and smiles and I can feel the shaky curve of his mouth pressed against my shoulder.
He doesn’t know I can feel the power leaving my body, and he doesn’t know how constricted my chest has began to feel, that I will die suffocating. Maybe falling. Will I burn up first? Like a meteor? Poetic.
This is for the best.
I couldn’t have changed anyways.
I couldn’t have changed anyways
And so, I finally hug him back, tighter then I’ve ever held anybody: pushing the last of my energy into his body. He pulls away, shocked maybe, but I grab him by the face. The last thing I will see is his terrified, smushed face.
He has a nice face. I like it, not a bad last image to have circulating around my empty head. If only he was slightly less betrayed.
“Chaos Control” are my final words.
Maybe I could have said something more symbolic or meaningful, maybe something to provide myself closure in departure. Something like, convincing myself this is what Maria would have wanted instead of my own grim desire for death. My own desire to go out, a “hero” rather than selfishly by my own hand. I saved the world, I saved Sonic, which is practically saving the world twice.
I hope he doesn’t blame himself. I really do. He couldn’t have understood, that one, so full of life. He’ll be okay.
I am relieved that I’d left my room tidy
“NO, NO, NO, NO,” said person sobs, on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He gets up from where he fell, drags himself to the glass and pounds on it. He’s yelling, protesting.
He lied to me,
He’s dead.
“HE’S STILL OUT THERE” footsteps come running and hands attempt to console him, help his trashing, fighting, tired un-Super and battered body. He was supposed to save everybody. He could save everybody. No, he was the idiot. He should have just saved him. He should have just saved him, against his will. He should have done something, anything.
He would never get to enjoy earth, he would never get to understand why it was so worth loving. Sonic would never show him his favorite movies. Or his favorite songs. He would never go hiking with him, never see the beach. Knowing him, he would probably love water, probably tease him for not knowing how to swim, oh how superior he was to him. How could Sonic have not seen it.
“He’s still out therewehave to gethim”
“Shh, it’s okay, baby” Maddie holds him, sitting cross-legged, holding his arms against her body and rocking. She’s sorry. They’re all sorry for all different reasons, but they’re all sorry for Sonic. They look at him, the wild creature throwing itself against it’s cage, with varied reactions of pain, concern, remorse.
He falls finally falls limp, shaking and defeated. “He’s- he’s- he’s still-“
“Breathe.”
Sonic wails like a dying animal.
Shadow heard, somewhere, sometime, that people who survived suicide attempts always regretted their decision last second. It was, of course, a long term solution to a short term problem, or some bullshit like that. He’d heard a lot about suicide, actually, for some reason that being a very popular topic amongst scientists stuck on a ship in space. Had he always been sick like this, even with Maria alive? Well, sick no longer. Nothing in much longer, because the black color of his coat quickly snakes up his chest and up his neck.
They were right, and in with his final, wheezing breath he can do nothing more but
Goodbye