Chapter Text
Six months.
Six months of fear and guilt Shadow never thought he’d allow himself to feel again.
A few months before Eggman’s attack that famously brought down Sonic The Hedgehog, Sonic and Shadow had developed what could be called a situationship. They were together, but they weren’t. They would hold hands some days, try to kill each other sparring other days. They had movie nights with heads on shoulders and stolen glances during battles. They went on dates, but it wasn’t serious yet. At least that’s what Shadow thought Sonic was thinking. He didn’t get a chance to ask.
Shadow had planned a race and picnic to tell Sonic that he wanted to make things serious. He felt pathetic for being nervous about it. He spent days rehearsing what he would say, how he would say it, ruminating on the thousands of scenarios that could possibly happen. He was probably missing some considering he was planning for the unplannable with Sonic, but he tried his best regardless.
He was being flooded with tearful declarations of Sonic’s death before he was able to say a word.
Shadow fell into despair. He should have known. A creature like him wasn’t deserving of love. The universe had made that clear yet again.
The day everything changed, there was a knock at his door. His room was a disaster. The room he and Sonic should have shared. Gone was Shadow the neat freak, in his place was what seemed like a nesting animal. He had spent the day under his covers, blocking out the world and its cruelties. He remained silent, hoping the visitor would be smart enough to know to walk away.
“Shadow, I’m coming in. Hope you’re decent.” Rouge’s voice bled through the wood of his door. He had gloves on, but even if he didn’t, it’s nothing Rouge hadn’t seen before. They lived together for years.
She walked in and shut the door behind her, eyes taking in the Ultimate Lifeform looking the most pathetic she’d ever seen him. “I need to tell you something.”
“I do not care,” Shadow simply replied, focused on something on the wall.
“Oh, trust me, you want to hear this. Sonic is alive.”
Crimson eyes locked on her and he immediately sat up, his struggle apparent. “What did you say?”
Rouge gave a half smile. “Your Blue is alive, hon.”
“Please, don’t do this to me.”
Rouge walked over and sat at the foot of his bed, the bounce of her weight dropping on his mattress making him feel dizzy. His fists gripped the sheets, anchoring to something real in the room. This had to be a dream. “They already sent out a rescue team. He’s coming back, Shadow. He’s going to be okay.”
The next thing he knew, he was standing outside the room where Sonic would be treated, a panel of glass making the wall they stood outside of. The Resistance mostly used it for decontamination, but that day they used it as an impromptu trauma bay. Multiple nurses rushed around the room getting things ready. Shadow recognized everything they picked up and moved from one place to another, trying to make reaching for the IV kits and bandages more convenient.
The pain in his limbs started, the memory of losing them to the scientists of fifty years ago never leaving him fully, especially not in medical settings. He tried to keep the flashbacks at bay and focus on the present. Now was not the time for the walls of the ARK to be seen behind his eyelids. This was about Sonic.
Eventually, Knuckles and Amy walked around the corner as Sonic was wheeled on a stretcher into the glass room. Shadow felt a mixture of shock and rage. Sonic was so thin his ribs could be seen under his skin, his fur was tinted dark red with dried blood. His quills were blunted, and his eyes opened and closed sluggishly, like he was trying to stay conscious. That fucking doctor would pay. The minute Shadow got his hands on that motherfucker he would regret every second of pain he caused Sonic.
He had to look away. The anger was gnawing at his insides, combined with heartbreak and regret. If all of this had never happened, they probably would have continued without him ever telling Sonic how he truly felt.
All of his emotions hit him like a bus. Like a sack of broken bones, he stumbled backwards into the closest wall sinking down, still facing the room but being unable to look through the glass. He held his head in his hands. He couldn’t face his cowardice head on. Sonic could have died without him ever knowing.
His head was tucked in his knees for so long, battling a barrage of feeling. His breath shook and his fingers and toes tingled as he fought back the tears that kept threatening escape. No. This wasn’t about him. This was about Sonic.
That’s right. It was always about Sonic. From the moment they met it was always about Sonic. Something in the back of his mind always drew him to his blue rival, whether that be his obnoxious optimism or something as simple as brilliant green eyes, he didn’t know, but Shadow never disliked Sonic. He appreciated the challenge, the bickering, he liked that someone could keep up with him in every aspect. If he was pissed off he could take off into the woods, and chances were, Sonic would find him and start to race him, or spar. It started to make Shadow feel like he wasn’t just trudging through life anymore—instead he was living. The green Chaos Emerald started to remind him of green eyes, and the smell of pine and fallen leaves started to become comforting.
Somewhere along the way, Shadow fell in love with living again. He fell in love with Sonic.
And here he was, beating himself up because Sonic almost died, and he never got to tell him.
Soon, Sonic was wheeled off to another room. Tails had a vice grip on his hand as if he would float away if he let go. Shadow vaguely heard Knuckles tell Rouge that he and Amy were going with him. They wanted to grab some of Sonic’s things for his room.
Rouge made her way over to Shadow’s side and sat down next to him so their shoulders were touching, his fur brushing against her thin wing.
The contact he felt he didn’t deserve but also desperately needed.
Rouge’s shoulder was eventually soaked with Shadow’s tears, the shame that he felt for his lack of dignity nowhere near as intense as the regret that threatened to overtake his heart.