Archive of Our Own

Omega cringed awake at the sound of the tinny analogue alarm at 0600. He contested against sleepy gravity, but dragged his eyes open to greet a banging headache that tingled the top of his skull.

He swung off the tiny bed, stretching his stiff neck and shoulders which clicked and creaked, and his chest chorused them with groans. He ignored himself, and followed protocol:

He shook capsules out of their tubs, threw them on his tongue, and drank the whole bottle of water next to the bed. Irrelevant sick feelings and aching head rightly disregarded, he stood to shake the bedclothes, then hung the bedding on the rail out the window. He proceeded to the shower to wash.

With a coarse cloth, he thoroughly scrubbed every centimetre of his body from top to bottom, until all the skin tingled under soft hairs and his eyes streamed with soap. Omega didn't rejoice in the uncomfortable feeling of water trickling and tickling him, but it was better than the smell: the scent of sweat and body that had always just been a note in the air he digitally recorded was now clinging to him and assaulting his nose. It never mattered how much those around him assured him it was indetectable, he smelled the foreign on himself, and it was a constant pang only dampened by floral soap.

Showers took as long as they could, until the water started to spurt and dwindled, spitting cold on him that screamed on his neck and back. Then, he had to be done, but he could still smell Body in the room and opened the bathroom window too. Like showering, brushing Teeth was a constant urge; he had thought he would enjoy having a jaw, but teeth never sat comfortably in his gums and clanked against themselves, and his tongue could find no comfortable rest as soon as his attention turned to it. Just the thought of it tempted him to gag.

It didn't feel clean, but the body was clean - what bothered him wouldn't scrub off any further. He dried it roughly, and quickly dressed it in today's once deep red - now heavily bleached and patchy- boiler suit. Clothing was itchy and frustrating, squeezing his neck and making him sweat, but it saved him seeing himself. Gloves, socks, and boots kept him from contaminating the space around him. He removed the gold rings one at a time from his wrists and ankles, scrubbed them with rubbing alcohol and a rag, then replaced each cuff before taking the next off. He felt the slight shift in pressure and power that his fingers exerted, and that came with a wave of head throbbing and disappointment that Omega didn't want to look in the eye. He had unmounted every mirror from the wall, but he still caught his reflection in the glass as it demisted, and the shiny inhibitors that distorted him further.

When he emerged from his room, Shadow was already sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. Their current home - until they were inevitably found again and harassed by robots - was certainly once grand, with glass and chrome and granite, but was also now scuffed and empty, with holes where the dishwasher, fridge, microwave and entertainment system had been. Instead, a simple gas burner and matches were all they could cook with. Neither of them needed to eat much, but the space looked incomplete without furnishings and tools.

"Good morning." Shadow said stiffly, eyes immediately over Omega, inspecting every inch of him. He clenched and turned his hands, itching his wrists until Shadow finally turned back to his paper.

"What day is that from?" Omega posed gruffly, grabbing a bag of potatoes to continue the protocol. Food was a waste of resources and space, but some crops adapted to the new world better than others: potatoes could be grown in many environments and had a mild taste, so were incidentally almost the only thing Omega ate. But they were flawed; they required processing to even be digestible. It was ridiculous to Omega that anyone ever tried cooking to find out it worked. He lit the stove carefully and broke the spuds with his hands over the water.

Shadow was speaking to him, and he had forgotten to listen in his contemplation of potatoes and fire. He stared at Shadow expectantly, and Shadow stared back for a minute waiting for a response. With just the two of them, they could stay like this for hours, and might have done if Shadow didn't remember that.

"You asked the date of the paper; the second. The forecast ends tomorrow." He stated again, some vague irritation in his face. Omega nodded, and returned to the food.

Shadow poured over it until the boiling process finished, despite having read the same page every morning for the past ten days. He crunched a handful of toasted grains of rice from a bag and drained weak coffee sadly.

"I may need to interrupt your work today." He sniffed, already most of the way out the door with laces in his fingers. Shadow hadn't complained about missing his shoes, but Omega could tell he still felt their betrayal sharply - he'd painted the bleached leather of these with red stain in their honour. Omega wanted to ask why he was needed, but from just looking at the shoes his throat felt strange and achy. Instead, he nodded and sniffed, turning away to fill the strange hollowness in his chest with carbohydrates as Shadow jogged out with his messenger bag.

Like most days, Omega worked silently at the construction site, letting others banter around him. Since the Metal Uprising, public spaces in high-tech cities had become deadly dangerous with machines that turned to serve Eggman. In this open park on a repaved street, they were rebuilding an exploded hospital. It needed to be huge, and every room with access to air for ventilation since no A/C units could be trusted. Analogue hospitals were less a place of curing, and more a safe shelter to let the body fight and heal itself, so no space was allocated to elaborate equipment, instead to private spacious rooms and waterstores for every floor. With no lifts, patients were organised by condition; more serious and debilitating ailments treated downstairs, and recuperation and clinic upstairs once people could manage the stairs or ramps. Many Mobians were claustrophobic after their homes had turned against them, so the top floor would be an open space, exposed to the elements but with a view far and across the land for the security to stand and the anxious to breathe.

Omega was bigger than most Mobians and even the majority of humans; he could carry two people's loads easily in one arm. This was his only point of pride these days, and he enjoyed his new pastime hefting pipes and H-bars. The other workers held quiet respect for him, unlike the smaller loners that they could pick on. That was another thing he liked about being here: it wasn't like being treated like a killing machine, but it was something. He wondered if they would hold him in higher esteem still if they knew what he once was, or just pity him. But when this project was done, he'd disappear to find somewhere else, so there was no need to know these nobodies.

He worked to his limit and beyond with a smidge of his old gusto, but he hated the sweat. Other bodies poured sweat while his barely glistened - but still, it offended him mortally. He grew too warm quickly in the daylight, and reluctantly unbuttoned the top of his jumpsuit to let air flow, and the bristley fur across his chest flexed appreciatively. He puffed air from his nostrils to dispel their movement, and lifted slabs of concrete alone in his corner of the site.

He let himself dissociate, until someone clapped him on the shoulder and raised a cup to his hand. The horse-woman, like her colleagues, didn't think he spoke English, so they tried to speak to him in gestures, or with slow and painfully patronising words. He shook his head, but she handed him a wooden cup anyway, then left when he did nothing with it. He had concluded this woman had been trying to befriend him for the whole project, which seemed bizarre to Omega. He observed Mobians of similar groups gravitating towards her, but if she knew how different from a regular Bull he was, she'd realize she had more in common with a house cat than him.

This body was made just six months ago, from carbon fibre bones, black arms DNA from Shadow, and donor mobian genetic material from research facilities before they could no longer run refrigerators. He had been entirely disassembled down to the head and eyes to prevent his body from responding to the cybervirus the Doctor sent across the globe, and in his last weeks they had tried to include him in designing his new self. But by the end he was barely there - the virus started to attack his mind and eyes and made him dangerous even as a detached head. He remembered Rouge and Shadow holding the last of him and framing themselves in his eyes as they removed the tiny chip that contained who he was. Shadow had nothing to say to him; he just held him still and seriously. Rouge was smiling firmly but her eyes wept: although what she had said scrambled in his sick head, he was sure she'd been telling him how soon they'd see him. In truth, it was months before the body was fully ready, and he 'woke up'. Becoming alive was his worst day, not going offline: going to sleep in his friends' hands had been comfortable and light - if terrible for them. But waking up was a torrent of a new thing he'd learned to call pain. Pain like nothing he had felt since, and instilling in him a whole new sense of fear like he'd never known before.

He shook his head hard, which twinged his morning's headache back into force. He couldn't focus on lifting the next piece of scaffolding like this; the echoes of pain shivered in his nervous system like a school of fish remembering they could dance together and destroy him. He sat on the side of the wall, and took the cup of water, in his best impersonation of a natural person doing natural things, while he tried not to think about himself. Time passed oddly now, sometimes seeming to last forever and sometimes flicking by without his acknowledgement, like the tail hanging at his ankles. He blinked, and another five minutes of his limited life was gone.

When the sun was directly overhead, a rumble in the distance roused Omega from his work again, and he jumped from the scaffolding to meet Shadow on the ground as he skidded to a stop. He carried the leather messenger bag filled with different notes and letters than he'd had this morning, and looked Omega up and down again.

"Are you well?"

"Nothing has occurred. What is the purpose of this? You do not need to intrude on my work."

People were already staring at them together, and Omega's hairs raised. There was less of an idea of a celebrity in this world post-media, but people knew Shadow, as he'd changed so little. Omega was unrecognisable in form and manners - he wanted to keep it that way.

"I need you. I have to report back, then we will have a team meeting." Shadow said plainly, but quietly.

Suddenly Omega's stomach squeezed tight, and his heart rate spiked. Corporal sensations were not to be ignored, but he waited still for a minute to see if it would pass. Shadow stared at him expectantly, then with moderate concern.

"I cannot attend. I may be unwell."

"Unwell how?"

Shadow was already digging in his bag for the analogue sensors; he was ready to run the magnet over Omega's head to check the chip of his brain was not moved, the pressure armband to feel for his alien pulse, and acid paper to place on his tongue. Omega closed the bag forcefully over Shadow's own hands.

"Not here. I am fine. You will go without me."

"If you are unwell, I will not. Are your rings in working order?" He hissed, already fussing with one. At the loosening of them, the pounding in Omega's chest started to quicken his breath too, and he jolted away. Shadow didn't let go in time, so he was dragged with Omega and swung against the scaffolding with a heavy crash. They stopped dead still as people stared at them, and Omega placed him down carefully and slowly.

"Calm down!"

"I am clearly not ready to visit Rouge. You will go without me and report back. I will return home and sit exceedingly still until I am unconscious."

Shadow frowned sourly, watching him everywhere again. Omega hated the way Shadow stared at him while he thought, like he could read the odd behaviours of his body better than Omega could, because, of course, he could. He wasn't the same as Omega, but he was similar, and he drew a conclusion by sight.

"No. She would like to see you. If you must wait outside, then do. I do not believe you are seriously ill."

Omega glared at him. It occurred to him instantly that he did not have to do what Shadow said; he weighed less than a bag of cement, and Omega carried ten of those at a time; he could simply swat him away and proceed with his plan to go home and make no movement until all feelings stopped. But while he didn't have to, he felt ashamed to deny Shadow any simple request now.

Shadow had been caring for him all the time while he settled into his body. He kept watch over him while he was unconscious and literally gave his own blood to save Omega. And Shadow had stayed by his side even though being by Omega's side had proven to be dangerous. He did this alone, because only his own body was strong enough to withstand the random Chaos bursts and uncontrolled strength now coursing in him. Omega knew what pain felt like, and that Shadow never complained about how rough he had been, and he never really asked for anything. So, he found he couldn't say no. He didn't recognise himself as he followed, tail between his legs, from the construction site.

Shadow jogged before him across meadows. Omega was faster than a regular Mobian, but keeping up with Shadow built more sweat on him, and with the tight chest and stomach it was harder today, finally outdoing his aching head. He puffed and wheezed and hated it, but at least everything was training. This was a sliver lining of the body: he truly always had something to do. He could be working to gain more strength and agility every moment of the day until rest time. Resting was an enormous dark cloud of being biological, but at least he didn't remember when it happened.

They were exiting the more habitable land for the sparse rocky region, where a volcano had erupted some years prior and made long tracks to run on. Shadow slalomed, bored by the pace, and Omega took the chance to slow down more.

"This chest is malfunctioning. The skull is in distress. You will proceed without me, I will arrive later."

Shadow stopped them, and pressed a hand to Omega's chest, then his neck, then his ear, feeling his pulse in each.

"Your connections seem fine. They are reinforced."

"They are in distress."

"Yes, I understand you're uncomfortable. It's nothing."

"It is not nothing!" Omega snapped, shoving Shadow from him. Shadow landed on his feet and tutted, rolling his eyes as Omega clenched his fists and squared up, as if to fight him but his red eyes trembling.

"I am trying to care for this vessel! Something is wrong!" He shouted, stomping his heavy foot, incongruously frightening for how frightened Shadow could see he was.

Shadow raised one eyebrow, teeth bared but relaxed.

"Right. But you're fine. You're just anxious."

"It is right to concern for health! It is a gift, it is breaking! I must attend it!" Omega spat. His jaw clenched as he uttered the word 'gift'. It was pointless to pretend to Shadow that he didn't hate it, but he meant what he said all the same. They could have said goodbye to him, and he never forgot that. Shadow hissed angrily but did his best impression of comforting, grimacing and laying a hand on Omega's fist to lower it.

"I know you feel bad, and that makes you nervous. But the problem is your nervousness. You won't feel better until you calm down."

"Illogical. Incorporeal feelings are clearly-"

"Fear is highly corporal. We can slow down. But you need to come with me."

He gave him a minute to think, but when Omega didn't move, Shadow zipped behind him and started shoving.

By silhouette, it looked like a gentle push, but Shadow could exert as much pressure as a freight train with just his palms, and Omega instantly buckled forward.

"I do not want to." He grunted. Shadow shoved him again.

"I am not sufficiently prepared."

"You are."

He shoved him repeatedly, making Omega take stumbling steps along the obsidian road. He felt his stomach tie itself up over and over again, and thoroughly doubted any amount of petty concern could do that.

"I will not see her until I know I have control. I don't feel well. This will be a bad day."

Shadow stopped shoving, and Omega hoped he had won. He shot Shadow a filthy look, and turned on his heel.

"How disappointed will she be when she sees me drag you there?"

Shadow took him by the tail and started running. Omega had to fight to stay upright, tripping and howling. Shadow didn't run even half his speed, but fast enough that the only way for Omega to release the pressure on his tail was to run next to him.

"FINE! Release me."

Shadow did not, running holding his tail up the mountain path to the cave.

A little wooden door had been installed into a hole in the rock, and next to it a smaller one held a window pane. Omega stood ten paces from the door, panting; even after a minute the struggle didn't go away; his body wanted to shake and cough, and his head clouded.

"You've come this far." Shadow remarked, and gave him another half-minute before he knocked on the door. Omega barely heard it over his hammering heart thumping in his bones.

A small deep-purple flying Chao opened the door, small face pulling a wicked grin as they saw Shadow, then frowning evilly when they saw Omega.

"Amethyst. May we come in?" Shadow greeted them seriously, but they closed the door in his face, rushing back into the house. A minute later, they opened the door again, glaring at Omega.

"Thank you." Shadow said.

"It is unwise for me-"

"Hi boys, take your shoes off at the door?" She called from within, and Omega swallowed his words.

Rouge's cave was lit by candles and warmed by the geothermal rock. She hadn't been here long, but she had rolled sheharan rugs over the stone floor and hung her trinkets on the wall, so they glistened cheekily in the low light. Her receiving room was lit with a gothic tree of tealights in the centre of the floor, and she sat in a velvet armchair with a fur throw over herself. She looked beautiful in the low light; her hair was softly looped into a bun that hid the white ends where it had been bleached, but now without treatment her fur had shifted to golden cream colours, and even the red flecks at her ears returned. Her glasses rested on her chest, hooked by a shining jet-beaded chain. She wore a deep purple shift dress that Omega knew to be an old one she had resewn, but was still the finest thing anyone wore these days. Completely incongruent with the terrible state of the world, she sparkled with jewels on her fingers, wrists, and neck, the picture of opulence. She waved her left hand lazily to Shadow, eyes set on Omega as he hovered at the door.

"I've changed my mind about that coffee table, Shadow. Put it back next to my chair." She commanded. Shadow rolled his eyes, but immediately began moving the table. It was heavy, encrusted with mosaic and framed beautifully with mahogany.

"I don't see why you need it. It isn't very 'Vamp'."

"No? Well, I'll cover it. It'll all be valuable again one day." She tittered softly, and pointed him towards two of her dining chairs, which he pulled up. She still stared at Omega sharply, and his chest felt like it would burst.

"Well aren't you a shrinking violet these days, come on, come in - they'll make the coffee?" She called the last to the hallway. The purple chao glared at Omega, and stayed hovered in the room while two other Chao scurried down the cavern hall with a bucket of water.

As Omega stepped into her space, he was hit with the smell of sweet flowers and herb; Rouge never smelled of animal, or sweat, or imperfections - he wondered how she maintained it, even now that cosmetics were long since a thing of the past. She gestured her hand to the other seat - the same hand. Her right arm remained under the blanket with her body. But the blanket couldn't hide her face, and as he came around to her side he saw the long scar across her chin to her nose, the stitch on her lip, and blotchiness in her eye. Her ear on that side was torn but she had pierced it and hung diamonds over the damage - now the weight of that decoration drooped it even more. He sat as still as a statue, hardly daring to look at her.

"How's things, Omega? Bricklaying suit you?"

He moved as minutely as he could, just barely nodding his head. She sighed dramatically: the purple Chao fluttered forward, resting possessively on Rouge's lap. They all stewed in silence until Shadow cleared his throat.

"These'll not leave you alone, even after you don't need them." Shadow nodded at the little beast. They growled as he spoke, and Rouge nodded.

"The Chao garden up here is well stocked with food to forage, but they were very domestic. They missed all the fuss, didn't you?" She said sweetly to the Chao, scratching their chin and fluffing the moldable fur on their head. They rolled into her hand, but kept their eyes on Omega, and the dot over their head remained alert. The conversation fell dead, as Rouge and the Chao looked at Omega, who looked at the floor.
"Let's review the news. We distribute a paper tomorrow." Shadow tried again, and this turned Rouge's head. She gestured to the board on wheels, and Shadow pulled it over.

In a time post-internet, sharing information was done by fast runners and fliers spreading calls for aid, locations of safe shelter for refugees, and even things as simple as the date and weather. Ever nosy of everyone's business, Rouge had quickly begun demanding the fastest people she knew to bring her reports to collate on a homemade impression typewriter, then reprinted over and over from those stamps, and sent Shadow across the world to deliver them. She insisted it was purely a selfish desire, a hobby now stealing things was too easy. Whyever she did it, her papers flew across the world, and had successfully evacuated whole countries prior to mechanical siege. She took just two weeks off while she was hospitalised a month and change ago, but now with one working arm she was back to typing again. Omega felt small in her presence; small and terrible.

She and Shadow pieced together the already made impressions onto one page, and he wheeled over her typewriter. She was an eloquent writer, and summarised the breaking news quickly to add on the top bill. Coffee and amaretti were delivered by Chao while they worked; teeny little matching cups and saucers that Omega held so carefully between two hands that he was afraid to sip and break position. Still, they were no longer looking at him, everyone except the guard Chao was busy. The guilty squeeze in him was easing as he heard them speak.
Rouge relaxed as she thought, and didn't notice that her blanket slipped, revealing the cast as she considered her words.

"Did you say the Charnel House was bolted, or has since been bolted?" She mused. Shadow noted her arm and flicked his eyes to Omega, but focussed on the board.

"They were cagey. I suspect it has since been bolted. I think it would be safest to presume it was not sealed."

Rouge nodded; "But let's not be alarmist. Ghost stories tend to spook people - ha ha. I'll include it in the 'light news' side, but if you could point it out to someone capable? I'd give it a look, but-"

"You must stay on bedrest." Omega said suddenly, surprising himself as much as them. Instantly he was all hot and his organs contorting again as Rouge renoticed him. She curled her lip to a gentle sneer, and fluttered her unexaggerated lashes.

"I'm enjoying my break, you mean? Really, I could, but it's been all go for years, and I've still got decor to hang around here." She gestured to her overlaiden walls.

"Do you worry how much you're hammering into a volcano? Or living in one, for that matter?" Shadow gruffed, but he smiled in his own tiny way. Rouge shrugged.

"Eggman's hoards are after me, too, but they've yet to find this place; so why go yet? Besides, I like the drama, never been afraid of an explosive home." She laughed softly and winked at Omega, who bristled and placed the teacup on the table to squeeze his palms hard. "It's also beautiful up here, and I'll hear the rumbles before it goes. The Chao will know when to flee."

Shadow sniffed at that, and took her finished piece to print.
"Right. To the ink room. Help me up, little one-" she put her hand out to the Chao, but Shadow was at her side already. As she stood, the Chao hovered in front of Omega to keep him from her, as the blanket slipped off and revealed the heavily bandaged leg, and the wing that had been reconstructed with rods and stitching. Omega didn't know much about Mobian biology, only that there was a high chance she'd not fly again, unless someone could get around to reinventing mechanical prosthetics. Rouge caught him staring and cleared her throat.

"Omega, carry the board." She demanded, so he picked it up as though it were as delicate as a cobweb, and crept behind them to her print gallery.

It was the darkest space, black and red from a glass shaded candle, as Rouge delicately inked the pages. She trusted Shadow to ink the 'light' news side, while Omega stood back and watched them, not daring to breath. It was monotonous, procedural work, just like his, but paper was so rare and breakable, and one errant finger out of place would spoil a whole print. Yet Rouge stopped what she was doing to look pointedly at him.

"Aren't you here to help?" She sniffed haughtily. He backed away, his hands behind his back.

"It is not wise."

"You can do your buttons up, you can light a match, you'll be fine holding a brush." She laughed. Shadow nudged her good side gently and shook his head, but she held the brush out expectantly to him. He shook his head again.

"Please, Omega. I'm a little tired." She said finally. Shadow had a firm hand at her side again, but she tutted him away; "It's fine, can we be normal please? It's just easier for me to sit right now. I'll just... manage you."

She hobbled on her cast to a high backless seat and spread one wing to balance. Keeping his distance from her, Omega tiptoed across the room to Shadow, his body screaming with heavy lungs again. Shadow spread the paper out in front of him, and showed him the process.

Omega worked so slowly, the second sides Shadow had done piled up, but his imperfect hands still made uneven layers of ink, and the more he brushed the more imperfections he saw. The stencil started to saturate.

"It's fine. It's done, it can dry." Shadow hissed, taking Omega's hand off the page to hang it out. As he did so, the brush in Omega's fingers dribbled black ink, and the tiny drop plummeted towards the fancy rug. Omega dove to catch it in his palm, and would have upset the whole table if Shadow hadn't steadied it.

"Careful-" he hissed, and Omega stood as still as he could, his throat on fire. As soon as the danger was done he had to - gently - get himself out of here. The room sparkled in alarm with breakable things, and Rouge dazzled with all her gems in the corner of his eye. She huffed, snapping her good fingers.

"Well that was your fault, Shadow. Don't rush him."

They worked in perfect - slow, painfully slow - silence, until Omega had hand inked every paper. Shadow finished his sides some forty minutes before, and hovered over his shoulder like a wasp, itching to take over for him, until Rouge eventually called him over to do something for her. Omega absorbed himself into doing the task perfectly: if he forgot Rouge was there, his mind was less clouded by warnings, and he could fill it with letters, liquid pigment, and floral perfume. As he reached for the pile and found it empty, he heard a soft laugh at his shoulder.

"You're becoming quite the gentle giant - I never thought I'd see the day." Rouge sighed, and Omega tensed all over again. He turned his head as slow as he could to see her, and crept out of her space as she leant into his to take the last few drying papers and set them on the rack.

"Please - keep away." He whispered. She raised her eyebrow sharply at him, and Shadow grimaced on the other side of the room.

"Do you think I'm scared of you? Don't flatter yourself." She sneered, her wing and ears flexing with some hostility or insult. Omega felt his own ears flicking down, and his tail tried to whip his ankles nervously. The banging in his head re-announced itself.

"I... have not perfected my control. Just today I threw Shadow. It is not safe for me to be in close proximity to someone..." he cut himself off before he insulted her further. She flared her nostrils sparkily, standing as tall as she could with a hunch and a limp.

"Threw him? Well we've all done that, he deserves it!" She laughed, then tutted when he didn't join her:
"Frankly, get over yourself. If you're too weak-livered to rely on yourself, trust Shadow. I've been telling him to bring you for weeks, and he's finally deemed you calm enough to see me. You and I clearly have different impressions of calm, though." She shot the last over her shoulders. Shadow folded his arms and scowled at her.

"He has been. Everything's been fine until today-"

"Oh, I'm sure you've been a wonderful relaxing presence. Never like you to spring a surprise, or talk down-"

"I'm very relaxing to be around." He snarled.

"I'll leave." Omega stammered feeling for the wall as he shuffled away from Rouge, then hurried out the house. The bickering continued but he couldn't hear them, and he slammed the door to the house behind him, then leant on the rock.

Omega sucked cold air into his mouth and held his breath. Out here on the slopes, there was no ceiling to cave in if he lost control of his strenth, and no casualties to be had. He admired the craggy scenery, then started to wobble at lack of air, finally letting his mouth open and he choked. His body flapped under his skin to regulate all the millions of processes it needed to run. He needed to run, too, but he knew he'd only dissappoint them if he left, and Shadow could catch up to him anyway, so he sat on the ground with his legs hanging off an outcrop.
Minutes passed, and he heard muffled talking in the cave before the door opened again. He didn't turn around.

"Funny, you used to love pitting us against eachother." Rouge remarked softly, leaning on the doorway with Shadow, before she quietly stepped out past him to rest a hand on Omega's arm. He panicked again.

"I had raised I am unwell today. Something is wrong with the breathing apparatus. I could not risk a malfunction in your enclosed space. Please don't touch."

She skirted her hand off him. Stood at full height, her eyes were level with him where he sat, and she looked over his ears thoughtfully.

"Doesn't your head hurt?" She whispered, nodding to the top of his head. Shadow joined her at his shoulder, holding her arm to help her balance on the rock. They both looked at something over Omega's eyes, it irked him.

"I hadn't noticed." He hummed. Omega felt studied again, and shuffled away, hand on his head.

"Oh. There's bones."

"They're horns. Like, for hitting people with." Rouge laughed, tracing a twirl in the air over her head. Omega grunted.

"Just another headache. Life has insufficient enemies to bash to warrant horns." He sighed.

"Only for now. We'll be back in the field when you're both ready. There's still Eggman and his new pet." Shadow said firmly, staring at the horizon.

"Don't tell me you're bored, paperboy? Besides, if you're looking to get the last hit, you'll have to fight for that honour. And Sonic won't let you kill him." Rouge chuckled.

Shadow hissed, kicking a rock as he started pacing.
"At this point, it's putting him out of his misery. There's no more time for redemption. Who would accept a a senile, deathbed apology? He-"

"A lot of people you like would. But you don't have to tell us, Shadow. You know we'd all have cracked his skull ten times over." Rouge laughed as Shadow kicked a small boulder down the slope. Omega gripped the ledge he sat on and tried to not mind his anger, but Rouge felt it. She huffed and puffed as she tried to negotiate sitting, but her braced leg was uncooperative. Omega shivered, but tentatively put an arm out, and when she took it he delicately lifted her from under her arms to seat her down. He placed her like the turret of a house of cards, and pulled his hands away slowly, braced to catch her if she tipped. She rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, big guy, I'm actually not made of glass."

"... glass is more reparable."

"Shut up!" She huffed playfully, nudging him as she settled.

They sat in the quiet, but it wasn't silent; the wind rushed down the mountainside, rustling bushes and disturbing birds that cawed and cooed. Shadow's pacing footsteps slowed to a gentle rhythm, then he finally stopped next to Omega, and sat on his other side. For a while it was nice, but then the proximity started to squeeze Omega again, and the pressure built in him. His breath started to race.

"What's wrong? Something hurt?" Rouge hummed, letting her voice become soothing, but Omega panted and shook his head.

"I told you, you just need to calm down." Shadow growled.

"I told you something is wrong with this. The lungs are misfiring, there are bones where there shouldn't be, the stomach is sick. It is loud and hard to think." Omega hissed back as the sides of his vision became cloudy. He rubbed his head over the tiny itching lumps, then it started to ache more, and he leant forward to relieve pressure from his neck.

Over Omega's back, Rouge silently inquired with Shadow. He shrugged, and leant back on his hands as though he didn't care. Rouge ran her tongue over her fangs, and floated her hand to his back, but thought better, and shuffled away from him by a few inches.

"Well, when you feel better enough to make the trip, you'd better go to the Prower Labs. I'm sure they'll have some answers."

Omega rolled his huge shoulders and nodded. Shadow rolled his eyes, but she shot him a fierce glare and he stayed quiet.

"Y'know, biological bodies have all kinds of cheat codes to feel better. Like, if you're too high in adrenaline, chewing gum can reduce stress. Apparently it's because your brain thinks eating means you're safe, so it changes gear."

Shadow itched at his gloves, the urge to correct her almost overwhelming, but he stayed his tongue.

"That is ridiculous." Omega breathed through his teeth.

"It's true, though. And if you're aching, both hot and cold can make your brain forget about the hurt."

Omega considered this, rubbing a hand over the itching horns.
"Why?"

"Because it's a new sensation, and your brain ignores existing signals."

"She's not a doctor and she's barely right. She's making it up, Omega." Shadow huffed. Rouge made a mocking noise in her throat and glared at Shadow. Omega bristled, noticing the aches in his body where he sat on the rock, leant on his knees, and took deep breath.

"Why are you ignoring the feeling? It is status information. It is vital." He mumbled into the wind.

Rouge ruffled her hair as she thought, letting it out of its bun so it rested past her shoulders.

"Because... I don't know, you can't do anything about it? If I have a blister, but I have to be somewhere before I can deal with it, I don't wanna keep thinking about it."

"But you are damaging your skin."

"Yeah, but... ish happens. Stuff hurts, you get better."

"You hope you'll get better." Shadow nodded, and Rouge threw a pebble she'd been fiddling with at him.

"You are so miserable to be around! Look what you've done to my big guy, you've mucked him up with all your anxiety!" She laughed, reaching around Omega to mess with Shadow's hair. Omega felt her arm brush his bristly fur and flexed to get out of the way, but as she pulled it back she purposely ruffled his too.

Rouge had always patted and preened Omega when he was metal, and he accepted it as something animals needed to feel close to eachother. And, when he first woke up, he thought he needed it too; his jaw was stuck and he couldn't make his limbs move, but she held his hand and for the first time it meant more to him than just making Rouge happy. But that was before, when a rush of rage just meant a small muscle spasm, not the whole-body fit it would later become.

"Are you cold, Omega?" She asked softly, and he tuned back in and stopped shaking.

"No. It is errors. Please keep your distance from me."
She sighed, shuffling away.

"I hope you're still having fun, at least? You guys are doing things, right?"

Omega glanced quizzically at Shadow, who looked at the horizon.

"If we had time, we would."

"Sorry, what was that? You're boring without me?" She said gently, her hand to her decorated ear. He laughed once, and Omega grunted.

"I knew it. Just nice to hear it out loud."

"You can't come back. I'm not ready." Omega grunted.

"Yes, that's clear, dear, but you've got to do something about this grumpy guts nature you're learning. If you won't come to see me, will you at least find something you like doing? Talk to some people?"

"Not ready."

"Oh, come on! There's demo sites still - you used to love shooting at those! Why, won't Shadow take you?"

"I would. Central City is all being pulled down, I ran through today." Shadow nodded.

"Bullets were better controlled. I was more precise. I might pull a building down."

"That's the point!"

"I might pull a building down onto someone."

"Eh, they'll have hard hats."

Omega glared at her briefly, and she grinned a cheshire grin.

"Awh, look at you, you big softie! Maybe you want to learn knitting? Baking? You could grow me flowers, I'm forever sending out the Chao to get them for perfume, you bring me some!" She cackled, placing a hand under her chin and blinking cheerfully. He took a deep breath in, and blew out through his nostrils thoughtfully.

"... Perfume?"

"Yes, after everything that's happened, making cosmetics is what you fill your time with, Rouge? Ridiculous." Shadow snorted. She sniffed herself, thought for a moment, then nodded.

"It makes me feel like me. You have to have that. Makes it all worth it."

"Shallow." Shadow snorted, but Omega's eyes drifted down to Shadow's shoes, tattily painted on the side and souls. He remembered the lump in his throat from this morning, and his eyes felt odd and blurred. Shadow kicked his shoes and frowned at him for staring, and he looked away down the mountain.

"It is not shallow. Meatbags smell constantly." He grunted.

"Rude."

"He's right. Not like you don't still swipe from the lavender fields."

Shadow shook his head, brushing his fur defensively. Lavender, Omega supposed, must be what Shadow smelled of, and maybe what he put in his shoes. They were bendy, spindly and crumbled into pieces.

"If I pick flowers, they will break."

"That happens when anyone picks flowers, genius."

"... if you would like them. I will try."

"Awh, you charmer, for little ol' me?"

"You told him to."

Shadow and Rouge bickered around him as the sun sank in the sky, and Omega watched the world. He started to calm, until he spotted something mechanical marching down below.

"Rouge, inside." He sprang up into a crouch, eying down the roving robot soldier, as Shadow zipped down the mountain side in imperceptibly fast bolts to view the incoming. Rouge wobbled and hissed as she tried to pull herself up, and before he knew it he had scooped her up and whisked them inside, a candle flickering in the rush of air.

"Oh my, how forward!" She tittered, but he didn't see the joke; he placed her in her velvet chair and let his hands tremble when he let go, backing away like she pointed a gun at him.

Rouge sniffed at him, once again intimidating despite her half-mangled state.

"Why don't you go see if Shadow wants help? You've got tiny pointed horns coming in, and those are made for ramming!"

"You will be safe?"

"Of course. Go on. You used to love smashing robots! Send Shadow back up when you've chased them all off, though - he has papers to deliver!"

Omega looked at his hands, felt his head, and nodded.

"I will help Shadow. I will not intrude any more."

"You're invited, idiot. I'm still missing you."

"I am responsible-"

"Zip! Go! I told you I won't hear it. Take care, Omega."

"... you too."

He nodded shamefully, and carefully made his way out the cave, before he careered down the mountain.

Rouge felt cold and alone again when they left, and sneered in disdain at her own disappointing body - it was bad to have been injured, but this state of affairs made her useless and alone. But of course she didn't blame him for the damage; only for avoiding her.

Several Chao hovered at her side, helping her hobble up to gather the papers and tie them with twine. She heard crashing outside, and felt bitter, but hoped they were having fun. She'd give as good as them someday soon, she was sure of it - even if not how she once had. Like Omega, she might grow horns, and they'd grow back to menacing Eggman and the police alike together. She smiled to herself as she formed plans, and slipped a bottle of perfume into Shadow's messenger bag with a painted note in a fine ink brush.

Omega. Sorry life stinks. You don't have to. See you soon - xxx