Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ever since he was a hoglet, Sonic did not have a home. Not in any real sense, anyway. He could consider Mobius his home, but the island chains were so vast that most human nations considered it a continent or country in its own right. The untamed wilds of the islands aren’t places he felt particularly safe, either. Comfortable, sure, but nature was not the kindest roommate by any stretch of the imagination. Sonic was a free spirit in those early days. He was often compared to the unrestrained wind. It was because of his mentality and actions that it never mattered to him if he possessed a home in the conventional sense or not. He would keep running. He would rest under trees. He would eat what he could scavenge for himself. It was a peaceful existence.

His first home, ironically, came about because Sonic realized that his lifestyle was not one meant to be shared. At least, not with the tiny kit who stared at him with eyes so full of hope and admiration that Sonic felt a sense of responsibility surge in his body for the first time in his life. A personal responsibility, of course, since Sonic was already dealing with Eggman’s schemes in those days. Sonic had no doubt that Tails would have followed him to the ends of the islands and back around, but he also knew that Tails would never thrive as a nomad. Sonic put aside his preferences to build a temporary abode on some random island. They were far away from the other Mobians, but it didn’t matter since Sonic could get to the nearest village within seconds and Tails had the ability to fly. It was fine, and Sonic doesn’t regret settling down even temporarily.

But Sonic could only manage a few years of that sort of life. Eventually, his sense of freedom and justice led him to participating in more adventures that took him away from the home he built for himself and Tails. He would never leave the kit alone. Tails would either come with him or he would go stay with someone a lot more responsible than Sonic could ever be (because he was also a child when he was raising Tails, he thinks but rarely acknowledges) until the blue hedgehog returned. After a few years of this repetitive cycle, a shift began to form inside their home. After some point, most thought of the house as Tails’, and Sonic would stop by from time to time to rest. Tails didn’t say anything about it. Sonic didn’t argue with it. Maybe he wasn’t meant to have a home, especially after seeing Tails make the haphazard shack into an actual house and workshop that would stand both the test of time and survive through the future’s storms.

Sonic had a second home, however. At least, he considered it a second home. It might still be his second home. He considers it as such. He doesn’t know if the other person would agree with him. Sonic doesn’t know if he would be angrier if they did or if they didn’t. Or maybe, he simply doesn’t remember any of this.

It was once an abandoned house almost completely reclaimed by nature. Sonic and Shadow found it on accident after one of their races was interrupted by a sudden downpour. Sonic hates water, and Shadow didn’t like his quills being out of place. A temporary truce was called when they entered the house to protect themselves from rain and wind. Even after the weather cleared, they were cleaning the interior to make themselves comfortable. Sonic joked about claiming it for themselves. Shadow didn’t give Sonic a response, only a hum of acknowledgement. 

Despite it starting as a joke, the end of their races or fights would always carry them to this porch. They would let their muscles rest or bandage their wounds. Besides cleaning, they started properly working on fixing the house. They removed any wild animals (making sure they were given other homes because Sonic wouldn’t let Shadow simply kick them to the curb). They cleared away all the vines and moss. They fixed the leaks in the roof and the holes in the wall. Next came decorating the house, and they had their own ways of doing that much like everything else they did. Sonic brought any rocks or shells he found while running around the islands. Shadow delivered any souvenirs he bought while on his missions for GUN. Bit by bit, piece by piece, the house became theirs in all the little ways that turns a structure into a home.

They didn’t stay there all the time. Sonic’s main place to stay would always be his and Tails’ house. His other friends never rejected him when he came to sleep on their couches or crash in their guest rooms. Shadow, too, mainly stayed in an apartment issued by GUN with the other members of his unit (his friends, though Shadow rarely said it that way. Sonic was the one to call them that all the time, and he continued to do so when Shadow didn’t correct him). But sometimes, they would both end up at this house.

Sonic stayed there for a little while after his reality was fixed. He wasn’t entirely sure why. It could have been the guilt churning his stomach or the fact that he didn’t want them to see the residual effects of nearly sacrificing himself to save his universe— his ‘home,’ in the strongest sense of the word. Shadow stayed with him those days, and Sonic isn’t sure why he did that, either. It might have been to make sure Sonic didn’t make another reality-shattering mistake. More likely, it was because Sonic probably looked the way he felt— like death itself was coming after him. Shadow is great at hiding his emotions, but after knowing him for so long, there are certain tells Sonic has picked up on.

He wonders if he would remember any of those tells now. He didn’t dare tell any of his friends, but his memories are still spotty after returning from Cyberspace. The cyber corruption ate away at his mind just as much as his body. It took a lot of effort and a recording device Sage made for him to remember everything he needed to know. It was through sheer determination that he held onto everything, but even then, there were some moments when his name didn’t echo in his mind when he tried to figure out who he was or why he was so determined to find the chaos emeralds.

His friends are gone. Not in any dramatic way, Sonic reminds himself. They are simply going on their own adventures. Sonic is happy for them. He’s proud of them, too. But without any of them around, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He isn’t going to stay at his friends’ houses when they are gone, and Sonic hates the silence inside his and Tails’ house when he’s alone. He hates silence, end of sentence. Nature would provide him with enough noise and company, but Sonic is in desperate need of a long shower (no matter how much he hates water, the dirt beneath his quills is causing him to feel itchy beyond belief) and a decent meal. He also needs a very long nap, but he worries that he won’t remember enough in time when he awakens. He would rather not get into a dangerous situation so soon after leaving the last one.

Even with all of the reasons to walk into the house protected by a thick forest, there are plenty of reasons to turn in the opposite direction as immediately as possible. Sonic knows he can’t be blamed for it since he didn’t intend to get caught on Starfall Islands, but he still left Shadow without a word. Usually, Sonic will leave a note explaining that he needs to zip away. Additionally, the newspapers would track Sonic’s location fairly consistently. Shadow would know exactly where Sonic was, and this time, he would have no idea. He wouldn’t know if Sonic was in danger or not.

Sonic sighs. Is it presumptuous to assume Shadow would have worried about him? Sonic knows Shadow has been concerned for him before, but to what extent would it be this time? Was there anything special about this situation that would lead Shadow to pay any amount of attention to the fact that Sonic disappeared completely? Would he be more or less worried after figuring out that Knuckles, Amy, and Tails were missing in action, too?

Sonic runs his glove over his face. He pushes these thoughts away from him. There isn’t a single reason to put this off any longer than he already has. Sonic climbs the wooden steps of the porch. He hears them creak softly, and the noise is just familiar enough that a few other memories rush to the forefront of his mind. Sonic takes another shuddering breath as his gloved hand slides across the doorknob (something he and Shadow had to replace. They had an argument about this one since Sonic was fine with a single lock but Shadow thought they needed over a dozen. They eventually compromised on two locks and a security system made by GUN). The door is locked when Sonic pushes the door open. He puts the code in the security system, anyway, and an antsy feeling fills his body with the beginnings of adrenaline.

Sonic closes the door. He slides his shoes off, setting them on the ground beside another pair of shoes that he was hoping wouldn’t be here but are. When he turns around, he makes eye contact with Shadow immediately. The self-proclaimed Ultimate Lifeform sits on the couch with a book in his gloved hands. Shadow’s red eyes narrow slightly as he looks across Sonic’s body. Sonic gives him a half-smile and a large thumbs-up. Shadow’s face doesn’t change in the slightest as he returns his attention to the book. Sonic swallows thickly. It could have gone worse, he optimistically thinks.

Sonic should talk. He should give a quip or a retort or even a good-natured greeting. But when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out— not even a shaky exhale. The silence he was running from has entered his body. Sonic’s temper flares, but he doesn’t perform any actions in anger. He has dealt with this before. His voice will return to him in due time as long as he doesn’t force it (a lesson Tails, of all people, hammered into his head when they first began living together. Sonic thought he wasn’t used to talking to people. Tails thought it was something more. In the end, they never went to get it checked out, but they found routines that worked for them).

Sonic leaves the main room. He passes through the kitchen and the hallway to find the room with his clothes. Sonic gets a new pair of gloves and socks. He stares at them for a few seconds longer than necessary. He is almost amazed by them. They are so clean. They look like they will fit him exactly. They are nothing like the dirty, threadbare pair that he is currently wearing. Sonic knows this is how his gloves are supposed to look, but it’s been so long. It might be one of the few memories he never gets back from the hellscape he traversed through for the sake of his friends… And the world, too, he supposes, since the End was coming for them all. He doesn’t want to think about that, though. He wants to focus on the nice pair of gloves in his hands, half-worried the gloves he’s wearing will dirty the ones he wants to wear. Fortunately (and depressingly), the dirt and blood have stained his gloves so thoroughly that they stay with him despite a new host being right there.

Anyone else would have said the shower Sonic takes is quick. Too quick, really, and a few would give Sonic an odd look as if trying to assess if he actually washed himself. Sonic would assure them all that he did wash himself quite rigorously. He scrubbed and scrubbed until his body hurt for reasons behind the general achiness and hollowness that his recent adventure put inside of him. This was one of the longest showers he’s ever taken no matter how other people would react. He even let himself spend a few precious seconds merely standing under the stream, letting the water fall across his close-eyed face. All it took was a little water slipping through his lips for him to remember that drowning was a very real threat, and Sonic was speeding through the process of cleaning himself (without skimping on the efficiency).

When Sonic steps outside the shower, he wraps a towel around his shoulders. He squats on the bathmat. He feels the water dripping from his quills to the cold tiles. He remains in this position for twice as long as he was in the shower for. Again, not very long for other people, but Sonic is someone who’s constantly in motion. Squatting motionlessly in the silence in the bathroom while he’s still wet is not his style. No one would believe he was the real Sonic if they saw him. But he can’t bring himself to move until his breathing feels a little more under his control (there were very few things he could control while the cyber corruption was destroying him. Not his memories, not his thoughts, not his actions… But the rise and fall of his chest was in his control. He could hold his breath; he could speed his heartbeat up. It was physically unhealthy, but it kept him sane, so how unhealthy could it really be?).

Sonic rises to his feet. He shakes his body quickly to rid himself of the water. He can already hear Shadow berating him for inviting mold into their bathroom, and Sonic smiles despite how much he hates getting lectured by his faker (in general, too, but Shadow is especially bad because Sonic can’t run away from him). Sonic hangs the towel on the back of the door on a metal hook, right beside the towel Shadow claimed for himself. Sonic taps a finger against the door between their towels. Was there a reason Shadow has one specific towel and Sonic uses all the others intermittently? Sonic frowns, looking away. It doesn’t matter. His memories will either return to him or they won’t, but it won’t solve any problems thinking about them too hard.

Sonic puts his new gloves and socks on. They feel weird against his fur. Sonic wonders how long he was in the shower for; how did the air get this damp? It isn’t dramatically so, of course, but there is a touch of warm water seeping into the air itself. Sonic’s nose twitches. Is the air even more humid for other people when they exit the shower?

Sonic leaves the bathroom. His first step has been officially completed: shower and changing. Next on his list: eating. An easy enough objective, but one he needs to accomplish immediately when he hears his stomach rumble. Sonic moves from the hallway into the main room once more. Shadow is still on the couch, still reading his book. His ears twitch slightly as he registers Sonic’s presence, but he doesn’t look over his shoulder. Sonic’s throat tightens at the thought of speaking, so he doesn’t say anything when he moves to the kitchen. A chili dog would be amazing right now, but Shadow has not properly stocked the kitchen in Sonic’s absence. Sonic will have to mention that at some point when he’s back on good terms with Shadow, capable of speaking again, and has permission to continue staying here from time to time.

Sonic makes a sandwich. They are extremely easy to make. Sonic just doesn’t make them usually because he requires a lot of food, and a single sandwich doesn’t fill him up. Two doesn’t, either. Not three. Not four. Sonic should probably stop eating by now, but he doesn’t know when the last time he has eaten is. Did he even eat while he was on the Starfall Islands? He probably did. He isn’t sure, though. He doesn’t remember a lot about what happened on the island.

Sonic puts the bread away before he can make himself yet another sandwich. He will have to go shopping soon. Or Shadow will. They often went together, but Sonic isn’t sure what’s going to happen now. He’s either getting kicked out, or all the chores will be left to him.

His second objective is finished. There are only two more: talking to Shadow and taking a long nap. Sonic was hoping to complete them in that order. He knows he can speak again, but that doesn’t mean much when he isn’t sure what the right words are. Sonic is certain Shadow will understand Sonic’s circumstances, but can he easily forgive the abandonment? That’s the real kicker about this. Shadow will never say it in a million years, but he doesn’t like it when people leave him without a word despite doing it all the time himself. It feels too much like death to him. Sonic doesn’t think he would be making the situation better by roughly explaining that he kind of did die. He went to some sort of afterlife, didn’t he? 

Sonic hates thinking about the Starfall Islands like that. It wasn’t the afterlife. Cyber corruption might have hurt like death, but it wasn’t that. Losing his memories wasn’t losing himself.

Sonic should take that nap right about now. He will know what to say when he wakes up. At least, he won’t be so confused about what to say.

Sonic finishes putting away everything in the kitchen. He is a bit slower as he turns the corner into the hallway. He waits half-heartedly for Shadow to stop him in some way— either calling out his name or violently pushing him against a wall— but Sonic gets to move through the hallway without any resistance. Sonic isn’t sure what he wanted to happen, so he doesn’t feel relief or disappointment as he comes to the end of the hallway.

Despite his shaky memories, he remembers the majority of his life and the people in it. He remembers that for some reason or another, Sonic and Shadow shared a room despite there being two rooms in this house. The other one was a guest room that no one used because no one knew about their hideaway. Sonic supposed it started because they both picked the same room without knowing the other one picked it. Or maybe they subconsciously knew it. Sonic did pick up the peculiarity of the bed smelling like lavender. Shadow claims he has better senses than his ‘fake,’ so he would have noticed other details. Regardless, they picked the same room and they were both too stubborn to give the room to the other. From that day onward, they just slept in the same bed. Since they didn’t talk about it, there was no need to think of it as weird or awkward. It was honestly one of their tamest interactions.

But Sonic has this feeling that maybe he shouldn’t do that today. Sonic is decent enough at following his instincts, so he opens the door to the guest room. It hasn’t been recently used, but he thinks it’s been recently cleaned. Sonic snorts. For all his darkness and edginess, Shadow cares more about keeping things clean and orderly than Sonic ever will. Another reason they are often likened to mirrors of each other. Opposite forces with habits on either side of the spectrum.

Sonic leaves the door ajar as he face-plants onto the bed. It doesn’t smell like lavenders. Sonic is a little disappointed by that, but he isn’t so dependent on the scent that he can’t fall asleep as soon as he finds a comfortable position. Or maybe he’s needed to pass out since he returned from the Starfall Islands. There’s no way he can think about it since he’s completely asleep.

—

Sonic started his nap which he knew was actually going to be him sleeping the rest of the day, night, and following day away. He knows this, so he’s curious why his eyes flutter open when the guest room is completely dark. Well, not completely dark. There’s a bit of light coming from the window. It’s barely enough to give Sonic a vague outline of the room. He rubs his eyes, forcibly holding down a yawn. He is about to return to his dreams under the impression that a nightmare could have roused him from unconsciousness when he notices another light in the room. That’s technically not true. It isn’t another light so much as something reflecting back the minimal light in the room, giving the illusion of another source. Sonic stares at the reflective surface as it trudges closer. His eyes are adjusting bit by bit, but he doesn’t need them to. He smells lavender in the air, and there’s a faint red glow that registers in his mind when he lifts his attention ever so slightly. Sonic flops onto his side as Shadow stands right beside the bed.

Sonic hums, caught halfway between needing a lot more rest and wanting to see what Shadow is doing. Shadow is frowning. That isn’t anything new, exactly, but this feels more like a frown representing his emotions rather than the one he naturally wears on his resting face. Shadow reaches his hands forward, and Sonic notes that the second light he saw was Shadow’s inhibitor. The gold sparkles in the minimal starlight filtering between the trees and the half-closed curtains. Shadow grabs onto the comforter. He removes it from the bed. Sonic slides with it until he flops onto his back on the mattress. Sonic frowns at this bizarre action. He wants to comment on it, but he’s suddenly covered completely in darkness by Shadow putting the comforter over him. Sonic has to pull the edge of the comforter under his head, and he scoots closer to the pillows.

Sonic has a dozen questions. None of them are given a moment to be asked when the blanket lifts again. Shadow slides right under it. He lays right beside Sonic. The blanket flops over him. Sonic raises an eyebrow despite his eyes being half-closed. He might be crazy or hallucinating. He could be in another illusion Sage created to pacify him when his memories were almost completely gone. He would definitely prefer the second option, but he thinks it is actually a third one: this is real. 

Sonic has another chance to explain to Shadow everything that happened, but he’s accidentally trained himself to sleep when Shadow’s scent settles in his mind and his body heat moves through the space beneath the blanket. Sonic curses the simple pleasures in life as he crashes once more. 

Chapter Text

Sonic wakes up in the opposite way as he does everything else— slowly. His senses are returned to him one by one. The air is warm against his fur, and the blanket is pleasantly heavy. The scent of lavenders almost sends him right back under, but his mind latches onto the distant sound of breathing and the light falling across his eyes. His eyelids flutter open as he exhales a heavy breath. He blinks a few times before the blurry colors in front of him are given form by his cognition. When he recognizes the figure across from him, a smile lifts his lips even as he’s still getting his bearings of the world around him.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” Sonic whispers, ignoring the strange scratchiness in his voice from his long rest. Shadow’s eyes are staring right at Sonic’s face as they both lie on their sides, facing one another. It was the first thing Sonic saw when he woke up, and now, it’s the only thing he can look at. Shadow’s stare doesn’t overtly change, but Sonic can tell it is a little more unimpressed than it was a moment before. This does very little to chastise the blue hedgehog. In fact, he actively giggles under his breath as Shadow continues looking at him. Sonic squeezes Shadow’s hand (their hands are right between each other in the bed, keeping them connected even if they are both on their own side). “Come on, Shads, you have to admit it’s a little creepy to wake up to someone staring at you like that.”

“You have slept for an unhealthily long time,” Shadow points out. Unlike Sonic, his voice does not sound rough with sleep. Sonic is only a little upset that he’s never heard Shadow’s voice like that. It’s his own fault, really. Shadow does not need nearly as much sleep as anyone else on the planet does. In fact, he probably doesn’t need sleep at all. He needs to rest, though, so Shadow usually ‘sleeps’ to make this process go by faster. It was also probably a habit he learned since Maria needed to sleep on the ARK. Sonic doesn’t know much about it. He just knows that given the time-frame of their sleeping schedules, Shadow is very rarely still in the bed with Sonic when the blue blur rouses from his slumber. There is only fading warmth on the bed and a scent that Sonic thinks will always remind him of Shadow lingering in the air.

But, sometimes, ever so often, on the rare occasions when Shadow remains, he is still awake before Sonic is. He just lies in the bed in whatever position he woke up from. He will stare at the wall or the ceiling without any emotions flickering on his face. In the early light, Shadow doesn’t frown. He doesn’t smile, either, but he isn’t frowning. He seems relaxed. Sonic is lucky every time he gets to see it. Unfortunately, Shadow doesn’t remain for long once he realizes Sonic is awake. He will get up and move on with his day as a productive member of society. Sonic will head back to sleep, getting up way later when everyone else is already halfway done with their responsibilities and chores for the day.

“I was tired,” Sonic shrugs with the shoulder that isn’t pressed into the mattress. He moves the arm he managed to tuck beneath his pillow. He rubs one of his eyes. He feels a lot better, actually. There are still some lingering aches from the cyber corruption, but it isn’t anything that Sonic won’t be able to sleep off later tonight. The physical exhaustion, at least, has almost completely evaporated. Now, if only the mental exhaustion could let up a little.

Shadow hums noncommittally. Sonic swallows thickly. He has given himself the perfect opportunity to explain everything. He doesn’t know where he should start, though. The beginning would be the most suitable place, but Sonic doesn’t want to bog Shadow down with all the details. But how much should he explain? Should he only talk about getting stuck at the Starfall Islands? Should he mention the cyber corruption and the consequences of it? Or would that upset Shadow? Sonic barely remembers the days after they fixed their universe together, but he thinks Shadow was worried, then. Would he be worried now? What would he say about Sonic sacrificing himself for his friends… again?

“I’m going to make breakfast,” Shadow says without further questions. He pulls his hand from Sonic’s grasp as easily as butter sliding across a hot iron pan. In a few smooth motions, Shadow rises from the bed. Sonic physically startles (and it almost feels like a flinch). He reaches a hand out to grab onto Shadow, but he hesitates at the last second. Shadow leaves the room without a glance back. Sonic sighs, shoving his face further into his pillow. He turns his entire face into the pillow. Why can’t he just say what happened? Shadow isn’t even going to care. Sonic is making a bigger deal out of this than he realistically should.

Sonic does not rise from the bed as gracefully as Shadow did, but he doesn’t fall to the hard ground even once. Sonic stretches his arm above his head. He stretches all of his limbs, actually. He really should have done this a lot sooner. There is a slight burn in his muscles, but his actions start to ease the general achiness plaguing his body. Sonic feels so much better as he straightens his entire body. Bit by bit, he’s fixing himself. Sonic has done this several times. After every adventure, there is always a period of time when he’s recalibrating. He has, at least, gotten faster at it over the years. He will bounce back this time like every other time, no problem.

Sonic already smells food cooking when he enters the hallway. He inhales deeply. It is, unfortunately, not chili dogs, but Sonic will settle for what he believes is eggs and bacon. Sonic’s lips twitch as he realizes what the food is. It might be true that smell is heavily tied with memories because Sonic instantly remembers that he was the one to teach Shadow how to cook. As the ‘Ultimate Lifeform,’ Shadow doesn’t get sustenance from food. But Cream does have to eat, so Shadow actually asked (yes, asked, even Sonic was shocked) Sonic to teach him how to make a few dishes for when Cream was going to stay with him for a little bit. Sonic was so happy for several reasons, and even Shadow’s grumpy mood at having someone else teach him something didn’t dampen his mood. Sonic, of course, taught Shadow how to make plenty of dishes, side-by-side in the kitchen. He also told Shadow about his first attempts at cooking.

Sonic has to eat like every other Mobian, but his stomach is stronger than most. In the beginning, he would hunt food and eat it raw. Tails, on the other hand, could not handle that. Sonic was forced to learn how to cook to keep the kit feed. It was an extremely difficult process, but Sonic thinks about those weeks fondly. It was nice to figure something out for himself, and he would never deny an opportunity to provide for Tails. And, since he learned how to do all that, he got to teach Shadow how to cook.

Strangely enough, Shadow asked him another question once he was finished with his story. He asked if Sonic saw all his experiences like that. Sonic didn’t understand what he meant at the time. Even now, he isn’t sure he completely understands, but he thinks he knows a little more now than he did back then. Shadow wanted to know if Sonic saw all of his difficulties as a means of helping people down the line. Sonic shakes his head. He tells himself that isn’t what Shadow meant (mostly because he doesn’t want to answer that question).

Sonic bounds into the kitchen. His nose did not lead him astray. Shadow is standing diligently beside the stove. Sonic smiles at him. When Shadow glances over at him, Sonic winks at him. Shadow rolls his eyes when he looks away. Sonic shrugs. He moves over to the island in the kitchen. He hops onto one of the barstools. He spins around a few times before he puts his arms on the island’s counter to stop himself. He bends his elbow, settling his head in the palm of his hand. He stares at Shadow’s back as the Ultimate Lifeform goes through the motions of cooking breakfast. When Shadow glances over his shoulder, his eyes narrow at Sonic. “Now, who is being creepy?”

Sonic shows Shadow a humored half-smile. Shadow hurriedly looks away. But Sonic’s gaze does slide away from Shadow. He doesn’t stare at anything in particular. He only needs something to fill his vision as he thinks about what he should say one more time. Sonic decides on his opening statements, and he hopes that he will get through the rest of it by using the age-old method: winging it.

When Sonic opens his mouth, Shadow turns around. Sonic’s mouth snaps shut. Shadow sets a plate down in front of Sonic. Shadow remains on his side of the counter with a plate right in front of him. Despite being disappointed in his own inaction, Sonic snorts at the difference in how much food is on their plates. Sonic can’t see the surface of his plate, and Shadow barely has a few morsels. It’s yet another reason they are mirror images of each other. Sonic needs to eat a lot of food; Shadow doesn’t need to eat any. Shadow only eats because he enjoys the taste or because he wants to indulge in whatever he’s made himself. Thinking about all the times he’s almost starved to death, Sonic wishes he was a little more like his faker. Only if he could still eat when he wanted to, though.

Shadow and Sonic eat in silence which is… decidedly weird. Shadow rarely talks while eating, but Sonic usually can’t get himself to shut up. Sometimes, he will tell Shadow stories about his past or his day or his plans for the future. Other times, he will test jokes or taunts out on Shadow to see how much a reaction he gets. Depending on how high Shadow arches his brow, Sonic will use the joke with his friends and his taunt on his enemies. Shadow knows Sonic does this, but he doubts Shadow has figured out what reactions Sonic is specifically looking for (the secret is that Sonic doesn’t know, either. It’s always a feeling).

But Sonic doesn’t say anything. He supposes his adventure on the Starfall Islands affected him more than he thought it did. Usually, he would be telling Shadow every miniscule detail about his time on the islands. He would complain about Eggman, tell him about how he played pranks on Sage, or mention how odd it was to not be able to touch his friends. He would downplay the cyber corruption and lapses in memory until it didn’t sound like anything awful happened to him. Shadow might have even been interested in the ancient civilization and their titans. He would definitely want to hear about how Sonic combined cyber and chaos energy to create an even greater super form.

Sonic finishes his food long before he usually does. He praises himself for his speed even if he knows he only managed this because he wasn’t talking. When Sonic finishes, Shadow takes his plate. Sonic wants to offer to do the dishes, but the sink turns on. Sonic’s voice is drowned out by the water flowing into the metal tub below it. Sonic waits for Shadow to get finished. Once the two plates, two forks, and two pans are clean, Sonic rushes over to dry them off and put them away. 

This, Sonic thinks, is familiar. When Sonic did cook for both of them, they would wash the dishes together. Sonic smiles as he remembers one time in particular when they got into a fight with the water. Despite them both hating getting wet, neither side yielded until Shadow actually laughed. Or, well, he exhaled with a different cadence than his sighs, and Sonic knew it was the closest he would ever get to making Shadow laugh. The ebony hedgehog denied such accusations, but Sonic doesn’t think he could ever forget.

Once the dishes are back where they are supposed to be, Shadow puts his gloves back on his hand. Sonic takes a deep breath. He squeezes the hand towel between his fingers as he turns toward Shadow. The Ultimate Lifeform steps around Sonic to leave the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything. His footsteps get quieter as they move further away, but each one slams into Sonic’s ears like thunder. He whirls around to stare at Shadow’s back. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

Sonic’s jaw sets to stop himself from talking. That is not what he meant to say at all. Sonic wonders if it’s too late to learn how to rewind time.

Shadow stops. He glances over his shoulder at Sonic. There isn’t much to discern from those deep red irises (he has been told by other people that Shadow’s eyes remind them of blood or fire. Sonic thinks that’s fair even if it isn’t what his mind drifts to first. No, instead, he thinks about a forest on one of the farthest islands making up Mobias. He would go there every year around the same time for one specific event. In the autumn, those trees would turn into the deepest shade of red Sonic has ever seen. At least, until he first saw Shadow’s eyes). “Did you go willingly?”

“No.”

“You stayed because there was some enemy that was either threatening your friends or the world. Did you handle everything?”

“Yes.”

Shadow shifts where he stands. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Then, there’s nothing more for me to ask. You are not obligated to give me a mission report every time something happens to you.”

Sonic sputters in disbelief. “I mean, yeah, but don’t you— I just— y’know, I left without— Did you worry?”

Shadow’s eyes narrow very slightly as his eyes scan Sonic’s body. When his eyes return to Sonic’s gaze, he asks, “Did you want me to worry?”

Sonic does not answer. Obviously, he doesn’t want people to worry about him. There’s no reason to. He’s fine. He’s always been fine. Sonic goes on adventures all the time. He bounces back from each one. Life-threatening experiences are nothing he’s unfamiliar with. When people worry about him, Sonic always feels guilty because he knows they are getting worked up over nothing. They should be spending their thoughts and energy on something else, not wasting it on him.

But Sonic can’t bring himself to say ‘no.’ There is a part of him so infinitely tiny, but it still unthinkingly calls out that yes, he would be happy if Shadow worried about him. At least, a little bit. It would mean that Shadow cared, wouldn’t it? Sonic wants Shadow to care about him. No matter what else they have going on, Sonic hopes the foundations of something is there.

Shadow sighs. He uncrosses his arms. He moves to stand directly in front of Sonic. The hero of Mobius avoids eye contact with Shadow, both unable and unwilling to explain his selfish desire. Shadow’s touch is hesitant, but he eventually settles a hand on Sonic’s shoulder. Sonic stares at the inhibitor ring on Shadow’s wrist. He sees his distorted reflection staring back at him with a gold tint. “It was… unnerving… to see you the other day. You seemed… disconnected. I told myself I would not ask about what happened. If you want to talk about it, I am willing to listen with more attention than I give your usual stories.”

Sonic half-heartedly chuckles. “You love my stories, admit it.”

“I do not,” Shadow responds without missing a beat, but Sonic doesn’t believe him one bit.

Unfortunately, Sonic knows this isn’t the time for more jokes. Shadow has given Sonic the perfect opportunity to talk about everything. Since he has all of Shadow’s attention, Sonic starts from the very beginning with how he, Amy, and Tails were investigating the Starfall Islands. Once the first words were out, Sonic found it remarkably easy to talk about everything else. He even told Shadow what he didn’t tell his other friends: his memories would come and go while he was venturing around. There were even times when he couldn’t remember his own name. Thinking back on it, Sonic thinks he was actually kind of scared, but he didn’t focus on that when he was trying to maintain feeling in his body when everything was going cold and then numb. He managed to retain enough sense of identity and sensation in his body to defeat the End, though, so Sonic thinks his story had a happy ending.

Shadow stares at him. Sonic has always been a lot better than most at figuring Shadow out than most, but he doesn’t understand what Shadow is thinking at all. There isn’t even a hint. Sonic awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. He has to force himself to remain rooted in place when running seems like a much more favorable option. In the end, Sonic decides on something else to say. “I’m sorry for forgetting about you. I mean, I didn’t always forget about you. A lot of the time, I did remember who you were. Out of everyone, I forgot you the least… I think. I’d have to ask Sage for the exact numbers. I’m sure she has them all recorded since she was basically my memory bank. Whenever I would remember something, I would tell her about it. This was, of course, after she started working with me instead of against me, but that’s not the point. I just—”

“Sonic?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“... Yeah, that’s fair.”

Shadow considers his next words very carefully, but it isn’t long before he’s meeting Sonic’s eyes with an expression that borders on something positive— happiness, perhaps. Maybe relief. Sonic isn’t sure. He thinks this is a good thing, though. “I do not blame you for forgetting me, but I… appreciate the apology. Thank you for telling me all of that.”

“I should have done it earlier, to be honest. I don’t want you to think I… y’know…” Sonic trails off, coughing slightly to avoid saying the word.

Unfortunately, Shadow doesn’t let him off the hook. “What?”

Sonic rolls his shoulders. He rocks on his heels which helps him avoid looking at Shadow. “I didn’t want you to think I abandoned you.”

Shadow makes a noise. To the untrained ear, it would sound like a scoff. To Sonic, who knows Shadow and has been sort of living with him for a while, it sounds like a snort. “If there is one thing I have learned from you, faker, it is that you won’t leave me alone. A bit of absence isn’t enough to convince me that you have permanently left my life.”

Sonic throws his arm around Shadow’s shoulder. The ebony hedgehog half-heartedly glares at Sonic’s wide smile. “Aww, you know you love it, Shads.”

“Unfortunately,” Shadow admits with an eye roll, as if this is the heaviest burden on his shoulders.

Sonic laughs openly. He feels a lot better after getting his most recent adventure off his chest, so he isn’t upset in the slightest about Shadow’s mood (which is actually not as foul as the look in his eyes would imply. Again, Sonic knows him pretty well). “Come on, let’s go watch a movie. We should go shopping later. I noticed a distinct lack of chili dog ingredients when I was making my sandwiches yesterday.”

“Two days ago,” Shadow corrects.

“Wow, that was a long time.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“No, but your standards of what’s unhealthy and my standards are completely different.”

“I have the appropriate standards.”

“Agree to disagree, faker.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Shh… the movie is starting.”