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"Let go of me," Sonic snarls, throwing his weight back like it'll remove Metal's claws from his throat.
Shadow watches this from approximately ten feet away, heart stilling for a single, horrible second as those metal blades nearly pierce skin. They don't; Metal is nothing if not scarily precise.
Terrifyingly, Sonic doesn't appear to notice how close he's brushing with death every time he moves. He jerks his arms again, held behind his back by Metal's other hand, the other busy being a silent threat against his windpipe.
"So, what'll it be, Shadow?" Eggman's voice croons from over Metal's communicator. "His life, or the device?"
"I-" Shadow pauses, throat constricting painfully. The device in question is a lightweight bundle of wires and metal plating, and looks almost harmless. Flimsy, even.
Except, of course, for the chaos emerald tucked into its core.
He looks up to find Sonic staring at him. His eyes are panicked, even from a distance. But he meets Shadow's gaze, and very deliberately shakes his head. Just once, a tiny movement that Metal doesn't appear to notice.
Shadow swallows. Tries not to let his ears flatten.
"That depends," Shadow calls back, suddenly and fiercely glad that his voice has a natural monotone. He's not sure it'd be this steady otherwise. He raises the hand holding the device. "Is this a bomb?"
"I hardly think that's your concern. Hand it over, or he dies."
Okay, so. That's a yes, then. Shadow hesitates again, glancing between Sonic and Metal.
Metal's as quick as he is, and closer too. They'll kill Sonic before Shadow so much as raises a fist. Something long range might work, but with how pressed together they are, it'd be hard to hit Metal and not-
"Now, Shadow," Eggman snaps. "Don't think I won't do it."
Sonic shakes his head again, more frantic this time. "He's bluffing! Shadow, don't-" he cuts off with a growl as Metal tightens their grip.
Shadow would give that a solid 'maybe.' He might be a Robotnik, but he has no idea what's going through the doctor's head on a daily basis, let alone his sure-to-be complicated feelings on his nemesis. Maybe Sonic's right. He probably knows the man better than any of them, at this point.
Metal, however?
Metal doesn't bluff. And they sure as hell will go above and beyond spoken orders if they think murdering Sonic is a possible outcome.
"Okay," Shadow says, sure to enunciate so both his enemies can hear it. He sets the probable-bomb on the ground and then takes a step back, raising his hands. "Okay. It's yours. Let him go."
"Finally," Eggman drawls, like this whole interaction didn't take thirty seconds at most. "Metal, grab it. Don't release Sonic until you're in the air."
"What?" Sonic shrieks, aimed at Shadow rather than at the idea that he's going to be thrown out of a moving plane. As Shadow expected, he thrashes in Metal's hold once more, throwing the robot off-balance as they begin to step forward.
Shadow's got one shot. He takes it.
He coaxes lightning from the air, the emerald-powered bomb in his grasp speeding up the process from a few seconds to less than one, and slams the energy into a chaos spear just as it leaves his fingertips. It sings through the air, a crackling streak of smoke in its wake.
Metal's claws curl, but the robot is unable to tear any vital organs before Shadow's spear hits them dead in the throat.
Unfortunately, the only reason it does is because it goes directly through Sonic's shoulder, first.
Sonic screams, curling over on himself as Metal stumbles back, eyelights flickering out.
"Sonic," Shadow says, or he thinks he might, voice small and strangled and terrified- it doesn't sound like his own.
The next few seconds are a blur; he can't recall running or teleporting but between one blink and the next he's kneeling at Sonic's side.
Metal's sparking off in the grass behind him, but Shadow can't bring himself to feel guilty about it right now. They're repairable. Sonic isn't.
Speaking of, Sonic is still hunched over, hand pressed protectively to the juncture of his shoulder and neck. He's hyperventilating already, reflexive tears running down his face from pain if not outright shock.
There's no blood on his gloves. Shouldn't there be blood?
"Let me see," Shadow whispers, dropping the emerald so he can pry Sonic's fingers away.
Sonic glances at him, startled, apparently not having noticed his approach. "'M fine," he manages to get out between gasps, strained as he tries to keep the pain out of it.
His hand shakes when Shadow takes it in one of his own, but his eyes are alert, bright like barbed wire.
The wound is… deep. Deep enough for nerve damage, and maybe bone damage too, slicing just above Sonic's collarbone. All things considered, Shadow just counts his lucky stars Sonic is even still breathing. There's an artery about an inch closer to his heart, another a few inches up his neck. If Shadow had been any more or less off-target…
Even on closer inspection, there's barely any blood. It must have cauterized near instantaneously from the heat of the energy- which could be a blessing or a hindrance, depending on how much internal damage there is.
God, he could've-
Focus. Prioritize. Save their lives first, beat himself up later.
"We need to get out of here before reinforcements show up. Can you stand?" Shadow asks. His voice stays shockingly calm.
Sonic opens his mouth to respond, then seems to think better of it and shakes his head instead, wincing at the movement. "Yeah. Just- just give me a m-minute."
Shadow nods, before he realizes Sonic isn't looking at him. Instead, he's staring blankly at the ground as he forces his breaths into something more even. "Okay." No reaction. "Sonic," he says, sharp. It's evidently alarming enough to make Sonic's head snap back up. "Focus on me. Stop thinking."
It'll be the shock that kills him, not the bleeding. Shadow needs to keep him distracted.
"Y-you know how hard that is?" Sonic shoots back, still choked but already sounding far closer to his usual self. "'Like, uh. Pink elephants, or whatever."
"I would hope I'm more interesting than a pink elephant," Shadow says, trying to keep Sonic's attention off the pain. But Sonic shakes his head, grins for a split-second before his next shudder destroys it.
"Yeah, you are. Way prettier too." Shadow doesn't get the luxury of processing that, because Sonic doubles over again, panting hard. "Oh, chaos. Shads, I can't breathe-"
"Yes, you can." Shadow sets a hand on his upper back, careful to avoid the wound. "I'm- I'm here. You're going to be fine." He pulls a spark of chaos energy to his fingertips, green rather than the harsh white-gold of lightning.
Sonic untenses slightly as the energy seeps into his skin. It won't heal him completely, but it's better than nothing, and will hopefully root out any major damage.
"That feels nice," he says faintly, ears finally rising from their pinned-back position. Not much, admittedly, but a bit.
Shadow shrugs. Whatever amalgamation of guilt and anxiety he's feeling has wound its way up around his throat to constrict his windpipe, but he forces himself to speak through it. "It's the least I can do. I'm so sorry, I- I didn't-" this time, his voice trembles. He stops, swallows, but the horrible shaky sensation doesn't go away.
Didn't think, didn't do enough, didn't come up with a better plan. Didn't do a lot of things.
Sonic glances at him. Suddenly, Shadow is very aware that he's been holding Sonic's hand this entire time, grip so tight it must be painful. He'd feel bad about it if Sonic weren't doing the exact same. "'s okay. It's not like I'm dying, right?"
He says it like a joke, but it's too strained to not be a legitimate question.
Hesitantly, Shadow nods, then returns his attention to healing. "No, not dying. Not yet, at least."
"Cool." Sonic's voice is faint, almost lightheaded. When Shadow dares to look at him again, his eyes are closed and his breaths are labored. "How long we got?"
Shadow glances over at Metal, who has since stopped sparking and is now letting off a static-y noise; it's not dissimilar to an old radio. Their communicator has started blinking. Whatever short-circuiting Shadow's lightning did must be wearing off. "A few minutes, probably."
Sonic nods. Then he laughs. "My hand is numb. Is that bad?"
"It… might be," Shadow admits uncertainly. He can't quite remember what that indicates- nerve damage, severed tendon? His magic flares as his stress does, green sparks spilling off Sonic's fur and into the grass.
"Uh," the hedgehog starts to say. "Shads-"
"We need to get out of here," Shadow interrupts, and Sonic might be the one hyperventilating but Shadow suddenly feels anxiety constricting his ribs, too. This is no time to sort through it, though. He releases Sonic's hand to shakily grab the emerald beside them, "Brace yourself. Chaos control."
It's a lot of power to use all at once; he doesn't stop channeling the heal even as they're whisked through liminal space to drop onto the carpeted floor of Sonic's living room. His inhibitors are burning hot enough to match the energy in his veins. Shadow ignores this.
Sonic makes a sound halfway between a sob and whine as the landing jostles his shoulder, but otherwise stays quiet. He's staring at Shadow with wide eyes, apparently more mesmerized by that than his own life-threatening injury.
A few seconds pass in complete silence, chaos energy still sparking off Shadow's hand. It's bright enough to reflect on the walls, green light flooding the room.
He's really not expecting Sonic to reach out and cup his chin.
Shadow freezes. He has the presence of mind (or perhaps just the fear) to keep the chaos energy flowing, but besides that his thoughts go blank. "Yes?"
"Wanted to touch you," Sonic says, as if that's a reasonable answer. "Was wondering if you'd let me."
Shadow thinks he would let Sonic do a great many things, if it would help, or even just if it would make him happy. Saying that might be a tad overbearing, however. Instead, he says, "I just shot you."
Blithely, Sonic asks, "So?"
"So you should be-" Shadow stops, searching for the word, then surprises himself with how vehemently it bursts from his lips: "Be angry. Yell at me, or- or refuse to be anywhere near me. Do something. I almost killed you, and it's like you don't even care!"
"That, uh. Sounds kinda exhausting."
Shadow stares. Sonic blinks back, impassive.
This doesn't make sense. Shadow's angry, Shadow wants to throw himself away from Sonic to prevent any further damage. The only thing holding him back is the need to make sure Sonic's alright, first. So why isn't Sonic just as disgusted, why isn't he-
Sonic's grip on his face tightens, just enough to hurt, and wrenches Shadow back to the present. "Stay with me, bud." Sonic waits until Shadow looks at him, then lets his hand drop. The room feels colder without it. "I almost die every day. Me getting mad about this would be like-" he frowns, face scrunching up. "Uh. I dunno. You getting mad about me rushing into battle all the time?"
Shadow laughs shakily. "An occurrence that's both ill-advised and easily preventable?"
Sonic mock-pouts, puffing up his cheeks. His face is still damp, but at least the tears have slowed substantially. "You're so mean to me."
"You like it when I'm mean."
Brightening instantaneously, Sonic replies, "Aww, you care about what I like?"
"No. It's a pity response. Like when someone you hate gets hit by a truck, yet you feel obligated to bring them flowers anyway."
Sonic shakes his head, leaning in to bonk their foreheads together. He's being unusually touchy; perhaps due to the post-injury haze of exhaustion and adrenaline. Regardless, Shadow has no idea how to cope with it. "Nah, you care about me."
Despite his best efforts, Shadow is not entirely a crap judge of character. He notices the way Sonic's gaze flickers down to Shadow's lips and stays there for a moment, quietly considering.
Unfortunately, Shadow is also the one who just nearly murdered Sonic in cold blood, so… it'd be slightly despicable to act on those social cues, even provided he's correct about their existence.
(His feelings about the matter shouldn't factor in at all, even if his heart is suddenly racing and he wonders if Sonic tastes like the gunpowder and ash that's currently staining his fur two shades darker than normal.
Not the time. One of them has to keep a clear head.)
"Can you feel your hand at all?" Shadow asks, subtly pulling away as much as he can without causing Sonic to fall over.
Sonic's expression flickers, pure confusion rather than any disappointment. Yeah, he's definitely out of it. "Huh? Oh. I can move it, I guess. Kinda tingly."
Shadow nods, and returns his focus to healing. Against all odds, Sonic seems to get the hint even in his borderline-feverish state. He breaks eye contact and drops his head into the crook of Shadow's shoulder.
His breaths are soft, easy, all former anxieties given up in lieu of letting Shadow hold him. Shadow leans back, pulls Sonic with him to rest both their weights against the nearest piece of furniture- a coffee table buried in what looks like aluminum plating.
It results in him basically having an entire mobian hedgehog in his lap, but, fuck it, it's not like Shadow was planning on going anywhere.
The wound looks better. Shadow can't see the inner workings, but the energy flowing through his fingertips feels less like he's frantically trying to hold a wall together with scotch tape. Seems like a good sign, for all he hates the idea that his powers have a mind of their own.
It's all too easy to let his hands drift, sorting out soot and dirt from Sonic's quills until he can't deny that he's just looking for excuses to pet his rival. Not that Sonic seems to have a problem with it; it's the most relaxed Shadow's ever seen him, almost boneless as he leans into the touch.
Eventually, Sonic swallows, and opens his mouth to speak softly against Shadow's fur. "Wait. Not to ruin the moment, but- did you bring a live bomb into my house?"
"...fuck."
"I think Tails is in the garage," Sonic says distantly, while Shadow stands up so fast Sonic nearly bashes his head on the table. Shadow reaches down to steady him at the last moment, swiping the bomb off the ground once he's certain Sonic isn't about to keel over.
"Okay. I'll be right back. Don't die."
Sonic flicks his uninjured hand. "I'll try my best."
Shadow ducks out of the room without another word. He finds Tails hunched over a workbench, and the kid is concerningly delighted to dismantle an explosive, but hey. Better than leaving it intact, right?
He sticks around until Tails is done, or done enough that there's no risk of them all dying at whatever point Eggman realizes they still have it.
By the time Shadow steps back into the house, Sonic has fallen asleep on the floor. He looks dead to the world, hand curled protectively over his shoulder. Shadow tries his best to swallow back any panic. He mostly fails.
Forcing himself to watch the rise and fall of Sonic's chest helps. Just slightly.
Sonic doesn't stir when Shadow lifts him, nor as he carries him back to his bedroom.
(When did he memorize the layout of Sonic's house? Does he really spend that much time here?)
"Hey," Sonic mumbles out of nowhere, apparently deciding that while he's being lowered onto a mattress is the best time to give Shadow a minor heart attack.
"Hello," Shadow says, once he's managed to set Sonic down rather than drop him.
"Thank you." Sonic swallows, raising his good arm to block out what little light is ebbing in from the hallway. "For, um. Takin' care of me."
"You don't need to thank me. I-"
"No," Sonic grabs Shadow's upper arm, emphasizing his own interruption. "Listen. Stop freaking out. 'Kay?"
Sonic's hand is uncomfortably warm- perhaps a side effect of the sheer amount of chaos energy Shadow threw into healing him- and he's too exhausted to keep his claws from digging into Shadow's flesh. It shouldn't make Shadow's chest fill with butterflies. That is, in fact, a very bad thing that Shadow is going to do his best to crush into nothingness.
"Okay," he agrees, mostly in the hopes of getting Sonic to relax and go back to sleep. "Do you need anything before I go?"
"Um." Sonic rubs at his face. It's a tad too rough to not be a purposeful attempt to shock himself awake. His ears fall flat, mask melting away again now that he's not worried about Shadow. "I don't- I don't know."
Shadow leans in and grabs Sonic's wrist before the stim can become harmful. Thankfully, Sonic doesn't fight him, and instead lets his arm go limp in Shadow's hold.
"You could stay?" Sonic suggests, words stilted. Shadow blinks, and Sonic shrugs in return, slow but languid, so purposeful Shadow can almost forget it's due to injury. "If you want. 'S'alright if you don't."
There's a right answer here- Shadow just doesn't know what it is. He needs to stay away, and he needs to not leave Sonic alone.
…damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. He may as well follow orders.
Shadow sits down on the edge of the bed. Perches, if he were to be less generous. Instantly, Sonic scoots over to allow enough space for Shadow to lay down. Probably enough space for them not to touch at all, if they're careful.
Shadow lays down, closes his eyes, and pretends not to notice when Sonic laces their fingers together.