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“Get up.”
The world is a blur of fire and ash. Sonic barely hears Shadow’s rasp above the explosions and sirens in the background.
“I’m good,” Sonic says, testing his voice more than really trying to use it. Still – he has it. He’s conscious. He’s aware, and able to vocalize his thoughts. Good. That’s not always a guarantee. “...Go ahead, do what you need to do. I’m comfy down here.”
It’s deeply uncomfortable, now that he’s aware. His outer thigh feels like it’s been seared. His shoulder aches like he just had to hang onto something at high speeds and lost the fight – a feeling he is deeply, intimately familiar with. But more than that, there's a feeling of wrongness in his chest. Like his lungs had taken a break; like his heart had missed a few crucial beats. Like his entire body had taken a rest, heart and brain included. Yet, like a good nap, he feels more energized than before. There's a swirling rush of chaos energy in his chest, and it doesn't belong to him.
It reminds him of the moment he'd been brought back, when the world was in peril. When he first met Silver and Blaze.
Unfortunately, when he searches his memory, he can’t figure out the last few minutes before he got here.
He’ll blame Eggman, though. Ten to one it’s his fault.
If he really did die just now, Sonic thinks he deserves a rest. So, e xhausted, Sonic closes his eyes, already starting to drift back off-
“Get. Up.” Shadow’s foot connects with Sonic’s side. Hard. Not hard enough to hurt him, which seems rather counter-productive from the guy who must have revived him. But enough to be deeply, deeply uncomfortable. They’re metal shoes, after all. “I know it worked – I refuse to carry a corpse back.”
Sonic snickers. “Do I look like a corpse?”
Shadow is silent.
“Oh, so it’s like that,” Sonic says. He smiles, lopsided. “Bummer. I still don’t feel like moving yet, though. Go on. Tell everyone I’m good, just need a breather, I feel fine-”
“There are bigger things at work than how you feel. I'm asking if you can move.”
Gods, he’s persistent. Sonic huffs, and something about it aches. “Should’ve known you weren’t here for charity,” he mutters. “You really can’t give me like, a fucking minute-”
“If you’re ready to get over yourself, there are people in danger.”
That gets Sonic's attention. He pulls himself partially upright, though his limbs feel like such jelly that he doesn't make it very far. “Can I get that on a t-shirt?” Sonic asks as he gets his bearings. “Concise, straight to the point, I could use it next time someone rolls out the therapy schtick-”
Shadow kneels next to Sonic, absolutely no amusement in his tone. “Slowly .”
Something about the severity in his tone does, finally, spur Sonic's basic instincts. He moves more deliberately, tensing his fingers first. Blood and chaos energy flow, and slowly coordination returns to him. He sits up further, and the world blurs. Sonic narrowly avoids throwing up when he gets fully upright. But Sonic won’t let it stop him. He’s kept down full servings of chili dogs in even less ideal situations; he can keep bile down on an empty stomach and an already-healed injury.
He feels Shadow's eyes on him the whole time. It unnerves him, but it doesn't deter him. And finally, after what must be eons, Sonic gets to his feet. Slow enough that he won’t drop immediately – fast enough that Shadow won’t begrudge him the time he's taking.
Shadow doesn’t do him the discourtesy of looking him over too openly. The narrowing of his eyes doesn’t invade Sonic’s privacy; doesn’t assess injuries the way Sonic’s other friends do. Doesn’t underestimate his survival prospects. It’s a sign of respect, Sonic tells himself.
“Can you fight?”
Sonic, barely upright, rests a hand on his hip. “What’s it look like?”
Shadow’s silence is telling.
“Wow, finally a guy who understands a rhetorical question,” Sonic says. He smirks, wiping something crusted off the corner of his mouth, where it’s already dried into fur. “The correct answer was yes, though. Just so you know.”
Shadow doesn’t second-guess him. Instead, he just turns towards the half of the city that seems to be undertaking the larger portion of explosions. Of all the days to leave behind ear protection – Sonic misses his youth, when his ears weren't always healing from an explosion whose sound he couldn't outrun.
“We’re evacuating,” Shadow says.
“Thought you said we were fighting?”
“They won’t have time to evacuate if we don’t stall that.”
Sonic’s blurry vision doesn’t quite show him the giant mechanical monstrosity on the other side of the city. He can’t tell if it’s spider-themed, octopus-themed, or a rare original species. But Sonic recognizes that it's an Eggman-Industries specialty, and more importantly, that it’s leveling buildings at an alarming rate. Buildings that still have people inside of them. Sonic's expression sours.
“Tell me that thing was what knocked me out, not some random smaller bot,” Sonic says, voice light even as he looks over the bot for weaknesses, for quirks in its movement style, for openings. “I didn’t just get like, knocked on my back for nothing, right?”
Shadow falls silent again.
“Whatever. I'll ask Tails for the recording,” he mutters under his breath. “Fine. We tag-teaming this thing? Because so help me, if you’re just setting me up as a sacrificial lamb so you can evacuate the city…”
Blood-red eyes meet green.
Ah.
“Well then!” Sonic laughs, ribs aching in delight. “Glad we’re on the same page. Good luck, buddy. Get as many out as you can and all that.”
“You aren’t worried,” Shadow notes. Strangely satisfied. “Try not to get knocked out immediately. We need as much time as you can manage.”
“Time’s kind of my specialty,” Sonic says. He stretches out, arms in front of him as his fingers lace and crack bruised knuckles. “Besides…”
Shadow gives him one more appraising look.
“...I think you’re overestimating that thing. Doesn’t look so tough to me.”
The evidence doesn’t match Sonic’s assessment. Anyone with eyes could see that, especially considering it’s already gotten a lucky shot on him. But Shadow doesn’t argue. Sonic is just a means to an end. To Shadow and his mission – probably from GUN, ugh – it doesn’t matter if Sonic lives or dies. As long as he stalls it as long as Shadow needs, Sonic’s expendable.
But that’s the thing Shadow doesn’t get.
Expendable doesn’t mean much after beating the odds a thousand times before.
“This’ll be a piece of cake,” Sonic says, one last reassurance. He winks at Shadow – but Shadow’s already gone, jetting off to the remaining civilians in the area.
That just leaves the giant monster to Sonic. Perfect. He’s been meaning to break a few more bones in; he hears it builds character.
///
In the end, Sonic’s whisked away by his friends as soon as the fight’s over. He spends almost a whole day in bed, forced to take a “real” rest day. As fast as Sonic usually heals, he supposes it’s not the worst idea. The robot did, after all, get a non-zero amount of lucky hits. And what his friends don't know about his injuries won't hurt them.
Besides. Sonic won, in the end. Obviously.
So as soon as his friends wouldn’t actually panic at his absence, he jets off.
Club Rouge. It’s not far, just far enough to test the structural integrity of reset bones and tenderized muscles. They work, though, and they aren’t as painful as Sonic expected – which is really all that matters.
Shadow’s already on the edge of the balcony when Sonic joins him. Blink-and-you-miss-it speed.
Shadow doesn’t even flinch. “What are you doing here.”
“How about a thank you?” Sonic says instead. He sits down on the metal outdoor chair, not even complaining at the way it feels on healing bruises. “Maybe a, ‘wow, sorry I told you you were expendable, Sonic, so glad you made it out of there-’”
“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?”
Sonic grins, a hand on his hip. “So you really didn’t worry?”
Shadow sighs through his nose. He still hasn’t turned to look at Sonic, instead preferring to direct his gaze at the city below. The city that’s only barely started to clean up – but fortunately, that part’s never been Sonic’s job. He’s more of a smash-and-dash guy, not the best at the long journey of healing.
There’s probably a metaphor in there somewhere. Amy would say he could stand to work on the latter part, and maybe apply it to himself. Physically and (ew) psychologically.
Instead, Sonic dips his pinky finger in his ear, hoping the ringing stops soon, so he can get back to running without the whistle worsening into migraines.
“Anyways,” Sonic says, after a beat of silence. “Just stopped by to say thanks.”
Shadow still doesn’t turn around. “I needed a distraction. You were a better bet than the others.”
“Well yeah,” Sonic says. “Because if you’d sent anyone else there, I would’ve come back from the dead and killed you myself.”
Shadow tenses.
“Heh. Didn’t think I noticed, did you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The moment is long. Silence stretches; this time, Sonic isn’t willing to break it. Sirens wail below, not unlike last night – or maybe two days ago. Sonic’s understanding of time is always a little warped when he’s running low on chaos energy. Despite getting an emergency rush from Shadow, he’s still going to need some time to restock.
Dust clouds billow; the metal monstrosity itself lies in a scrap heap in the center of the city. Sonic-sized dents litter its body. But its head took the bulk of the real damage. It’s still sparking – Sonic heard it caused at least three fires in the last day alone.
Shadow seems to be looking at it, too.
Sonic smirks, leaning further back in his chair, eyes on his rivals tense posture. Any moment now.
Three – two – one…
“...Next time,” Shadow says, finally, hands balling into fists, “Don’t cut it that close.”
“What’s that?” Sonic asks, cupping a hand around his ear. “I thought you didn’t know what I was talking about-”
“Next time I’ll leave you dead,” Shadow snaps. “And everyone else will follow suit when there’s no one left to stop Robotnik. Do not leave me to clean up your messes again.”
Sonic crosses his arms behind his head. His ears still ring, his heart still remembers the feeling of being stopped. “It's not really cutting it close if you really do die," he says, thoughtfully. Shadow cringes, but Sonic doesn't walk it back. Instead, he just cleans out his ear, then flicks wax and crusted blood off of his pinky. "Besides, you didn't have to revive me. I don't know why you're so mad about it now that you have.”
"You're only alive because I was following my directive,” Shadow says, toneless. "That's all."
“Yeah? The one where you take GUN’s orders, or the one where you’re a born healer?”
Shadow’s jaw snaps shut. Though no one talks about it much, it's not difficult to follow the logic. That Shadow was built to be a living Heal Unit, one step above the invention that put Gerald Robotnik on the map. Though Shadow couldn’t cure Maria, couldn’t fix a terminal illness, he was given all the innate technology of a Heal Unit... and, perhaps, even a greater power. One that could explain why Shadow hadn't died after sacrificing himself.
Sonic meets Shadow’s gaze. Long, and pointed.
“We speak of this to no one,” Shadow says. "Do you understand me?"
Sonic doesn’t move to shake his hand, doesn’t try to seal the deal with anything more than a glance. “Fine by me. I’d hate to share the best of you.”
That, it seems, is the breaking-point. “What are you even doing here?” Shadow asks. “Why come at all, if you’re only going to gloat?”
Sonic tilts his head to the side. And it’s then that he realizes what Shadow really sees this as. Sonic, rubbing it in Shadow’s face that he was in time to heal Sonic – but not in time to heal other friends, friends that Shadow would have far preferred to save.
Sonic’s smirk turns less lopsided – slightly, ever so slightly, more genuine.
“Hey,” he says. “You saved more than just me.”
“Which makes you extremely lucky, because if it was just you, I wouldn't have bothered,” Shadow snaps, eyes freezing Sonic to his core. He means it, Sonic realizes. Huh. “Now get out of here. Before you ruin the rest of my day.”
Sonic sighs. But he stands anyway, palms forward to make peace. “Like I said,” he starts, moving to the edge of the balcony. “Thanks.”
With that, he disappears – leaving Shadow to his thoughts, and Sonic to a well-earned run out of town.