Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every night since the Eclipse Cannon incident, Sonic found himself waiting.

Waiting for something—anything. A flicker of movement, a shimmer of gold against the starlit sky, a whisper of wind that felt too familiar to be coincidence. He didn’t know exactly what he was hoping for. Maybe a sign. Maybe him .

Shadow.

Sonic hadn’t realized he’d been doing it—not at first. But weeks had passed, and still, his eyes would instinctively drift upward, locking onto the shattered remnants of the moon. A jagged half-orb, now scarred permanently against the darkness. A constant reminder of what had happened. Of who had been involved. Of what had nearly been lost.

And he didn’t know why it weighed on him so heavily.

He told himself it was just the hero thing—checking in on everyone, even the ones who almost destroyed the planet. Especially the ones who turned around and saved it in the end. That had to be it. That had to be the reason his chest tightened every time he saw a flash of red and black in the distance, only to blink and find it gone. A trick of the light. A hallucination born of guilt.

But maybe it wasn’t just guilt. Maybe it was something deeper. Something Shadow had stirred in him—rage, confusion, fear, hope . Feelings Sonic wasn’t used to facing head on.

And then there was what Tom had said to him. Past words that had anchored him when everything was unraveling:

You didn’t let your pain change who you are.

Sonic still remembered the thrum of his own heartbeat as his fist was raised into the darkness, ready to take a life. It was a lifeline. A warning. A reminder that he could have lost himself, and almost did. If Tom hadn’t said that—if those words hadn’t grounded him—Shadow would’ve been gone.

And maybe the entire planet along with him.

That thought haunted Sonic more than he could admit. Because in that moment, he had been ready to fight. To end it. To end him . And that wasn’t who Sonic wanted to be.

That’s why he couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why he kept scanning the horizon for a sign, even when everyone else had moved on.

Shadow had awakened something in him, and Sonic needed to understand it. Needed to find him. Not just to be sure he was alive, but to find closure. 

As for Eggman…Sonic had tried. Tried to stop him once and for all. But somehow, he always slipped through the cracks. Even after the Eclipse Cannon exploded, even when every logical sign said he was finished…Sonic couldn’t shake the feeling.

He survived.

And if Eggman was out there, then Shadow could be too.

“Hedgehog.”

The voice was low, familiar, and laced with something heavier than usual.

Sonic didn’t need to look to know who it was, but he turned his head anyway. Knuckles stood at the edge of the roof, arms crossed, eyes narrowed under the weight of unspoken thoughts.

Sonic gave him a casual grin. “Hey, Knucklehead. Come to interrupt my brooding, or just feel like stargazing?”

Knuckles didn’t respond right away. He stepped forward and eased himself down beside Sonic, the old wood creaking faintly under his weight. His silence was thick, but not uncomfortable. Sonic had known him long enough to read the spaces between his words. Sometimes, Knuckles said more by saying nothing at all.

Sonic leaned back on his palms, eyes drifting upward again. The sky was wide open tonight, a velvet canvas scattered with stars. No city lights to drown them out—just pure, raw night stretching endlessly.

“Montana’s amazing,” Sonic murmured. “Perfect place for stargazing. Hardly any light pollution. Skies so clear, it feels like you could fall into 'em.”

For a moment, all that followed was the whisper of wind and the faint rustle of trees below.

Then, quietly—bluntly—Knuckles said, “You miss him, don’t you.”

Sonic froze, the words catching him off guard even though they probably shouldn’t have.

He blinked. “Huh?”

Knuckles turned his head slightly, not looking at Sonic but not looking away either. His voice was steady. “The far superior hedgehog. You miss him.”

Sonic opened his mouth, ready to wave it off with a quip or deflect with some sarcastic joke. That was usually his style. Keep things light, keep moving, don’t dwell.

But nothing came out.

He stared back up at the stars instead, their brightness suddenly cold. Far away. Lonelier than before. He swallowed the knot forming in his throat, but it stuck there stubbornly.

“I—” he tried, but the words caught mid-flight, crumbling before they ever had a chance to land. He let out a sound that wasn’t quite a sigh, not quite a groan—something strained and tired—and pulled his legs up toward his chest. Wrapping his arms around them, he rested his chin on one knee and looked down, the stars momentarily forgotten.

Knuckles watched him for a moment, his brow furrowed but calm. There was no judgment in his voice—just quiet understanding.

“You’ve been coming up here almost every night,” he said. “Figured you were either losing sleep over Eggman…or him.”

Sonic snorted, managing the ghost of a smirk. “Please. I do not miss Eggman.”

“I assumed as much,” Knuckles replied without skipping a beat. “Still, the possibility had to be addressed. Gotta cover all my bases.”

He shifted, arms still crossed over his chest, posture solid like the guardian he’d always been. “Fear not, Sonic. I won’t tell anyone of this…emotional development.” His voice softened a touch, losing some of the usual gruffness. “But I made a promise when I chose to protect this place—and all of you. That includes guarding minds, not just bodies.”

Sonic looked over at him, brows raised, a flicker of surprise cutting through the haze. “Didn’t know you got that deep, Knux.”

Knuckles gave a small shrug. “You’re my friend. My brother, blood or not. That means something.”

The wind rustled past them, carrying with it the cool scent of pine and earth, and something else—comfort, maybe. Or understanding. Sonic let his eyes drift back to the stars, his posture slowly relaxing again, though his arms stayed around his legs.

“Thanks,” he murmured, voice almost lost in the breeze. “For not pushing.”

“I don’t need to,” Knuckles said. “You’ll talk when you’re ready. I’ll be here when you do.”

Then Knuckles was gone—silent as ever—slipping back down through the skylight that led into the attic they shared. The glass clicked shut behind him with a soft finality, and Sonic was left alone once more beneath the vast Montana sky.

He didn’t move right away. Just sat there, arms still around his legs, eyes tracing the constellations like they held answers he hadn’t found yet.

Sonic exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the cool air. He was eternally grateful for Knuckles. For what they’d built. For how far they'd come. There’d been a time—not too long ago—when they’d been nothing more than enemies, stubborn and hot-headed, clashing over pride and power. But something had shifted after that battle with Eggman. When the madman had harnessed the Master Emerald’s energy and nearly razed Green Hills to the ground, Sonic had seen a different side of Knuckles. And more importantly, Knuckles had seen a different side of him .

They fought together, then won together.

After that, it didn’t matter why they were enemies in the first place, or how thick Knuckles’ skull was—they were brothers. Bound not by blood, but by trust.

And along with Knuckles, he gained another brother—one with twice the brainpower and three times the heart. Tails had slipped into their makeshift family so naturally, it was like he’d always been there. His loyalty, his brilliance, his belief in Sonic...it was unwavering. And Sonic had leaned on that more times than he could count.

But the one that surprised him most—the one that still haunted him—was Shadow.

The memory of that final confrontation played behind his eyes more vividly than he liked to admit. Not the chaos. Not the explosions. But the look on Shadow’s face—up there, on the broken edge of the moon, when everything could have gone either way. When hate could’ve won.

But it didn’t.

Because somehow, against all odds, Sonic had reached him. Not with force, not with fists—but with heart . With hope . Just like Tom had taught him.

You didn’t let your pain change who you are. 

And in that moment, Shadow had chosen to listen. He had turned away from destruction. Turned toward the light—even if it was just for a moment.

You always have a choice.

Sonic’s fingers dug into the fabric of his gloves, clenching around nothing. His throat tightened.

He remembered the words that had echoed in his mind ever since:

The light still shines…even though the star is gone.

Shadow had said those words to him, his voice full of longing as he watched the sun rise over Earth. Maybe there was a reason those words had stuck with him.

Because now, his star might be gone too.

Shadow. The one who saw him at his lowest, and who let Sonic see him in return.

Sonic looked up again, searching the sky.

No sign. No flicker. No glimmer of gold.

But the light still shone.

—

Sonic woke in the middle of the night, warm— oddly warm.

A slow awareness crept into his limbs as sleep retreated. Something was off. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in a weird way. There was pressure around his middle—tight, secure…steady. He shifted slightly and felt it again: arms. Strong arms. Wrapped around his waist.

His brain lagged a bit behind his body, still foggy with sleep. His first thought?

Was there a storm?

That would make sense. Tails had a habit of sneaking into Sonic’s bed whenever thunder cracked across the sky. The poor kid hated lightning. And every time it happened, Sonic’s heart would ache watching him tremble, trying so hard to be brave. So Sonic would let him in, no questions asked, and wrap him up until the worst of it passed.

Only…this grip wasn’t like Tails’. Tails was strong in his own way, sure, but he didn’t crush ribs in his sleep.

Sonic blinked fully awake, brows furrowing. Okay. Not Tails.

Could it be Knuckles?

Ugh, no. For one, that would be weird . Beyond weird. Two, Knuckles wouldn’t do that—he respected boundaries like a soldier respected orders. And three…Sonic could feel it. The body behind him wasn’t bulky like Knuckles’. Whoever this was, they were leaner, more compact—still powerful, but sleeker. More precise.

His heart skipped.

Wait.

Wait a second.

Oh no.

Oh Chaos.

Had some creep snuck into their room? Was some stranger cuddling him right now like it was the most natural thing in the world?

Panic surged through him like electricity. His instincts kicked in—fight or flight mode activating—but he hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough to peek beneath the covers, to maybe get a clue before he sent this intruder flying into next week.

He lifted the blanket slowly, hands trembling slightly as the dim moonlight filtered through the attic window above.

And then he froze.

White gloves. Leather. Familiar. Trimmed in black and red cuffs.

And just below that, gold inhibitor rings, glinting softly in the pale light.

His breath caught.

No way. No way.

Shadow.

Wrapped around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Sonic couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. His brain felt like it had short-circuited, trying to comprehend what his eyes were seeing and what his body was feeling . This wasn’t a dream—he knew that much. His dreams never came with this kind of detail…this kind of heat.

Shadow’s breathing was slow, even. Asleep, apparently. And clearly, comfortable. Too comfortable.

How? When? Why?

Sonic's mind was a blur of questions, a cyclone of confusion and—if he was honest with himself—a sliver of something else he wasn’t ready to name. Not yet.

But as Shadow shifted slightly behind him, nuzzling in unconsciously like someone chasing warmth in the dark, Sonic didn’t move.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t punch. He didn’t run.

Instead, he just stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide, heart pounding.

And in a whisper too soft for even himself, he muttered,

“…What the hell is happening?”

Shadow was alive .

That was the first, staggering realization.

The second?

He was cuddling Sonic in his bed.

Sonic’s heart thudded in his chest like it was trying to break free. A high-pitched ringing settled in his ears as the shock fully hit him. His mind raced at the speed of light, tumbling over itself as it tried to make sense of the impossible.

Okay, okay, don’t panic. Shadow’s alive. That’s good. That’s great. That’s…incredible, actually. But also—why is he here? Why is he in my bed?? Why is he…spooning me like this is some kind of normal???

He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, eyes darting to the bed beside him. If Knuckles woke up now, if he saw this—no, worse, if he misunderstood this—there would be chaos. Knuckles would probably tackle Shadow through the wall before Sonic had the chance to say a word.

And Tails…oh Chaos, Tails would never let him live it down.

Every instinct screamed at him to bolt, to push Shadow off, to call out for someone— anyone —to witness this madness. But he didn’t. Instead, he stayed still, breathing shallowly, his heart pounding so loud it practically echoed in the room.

After a long, tense moment, Sonic swallowed hard and, with the care of someone diffusing a bomb, slowly twisted in Shadow’s iron grip. Inch by inch. Careful not to wake him. Careful not to make a sound.

And then—he was facing him.

There was no doubt about it. No room for mistake.

Shadow.

His quills, a mess of midnight black edged with crimson, splayed loosely across the pillow they now shared. His chest rose and fell in a calm, steady rhythm. The same arms that had once flung Sonic across continents and took out entire G.U.N. fleets were now loosely draped around Sonic’s waist like a lifeline.

And his face…

Sonic blinked, breath catching in his throat.

He looked peaceful. Completely at ease.

Nothing like the brooding, hardened expression Sonic had come to associate with him. The anger, the grief, the relentless weight of the world Shadow always seemed to carry—it was all gone. At least for now.

This Shadow was softer. And—somehow— here.

Sonic didn’t know how he’d gotten here. Didn’t know why. Didn’t know if he was even supposed to be alive.

But in that moment, none of it mattered.

Because Shadow was here. Real. Warm. Breathing.

For the first time in weeks, Sonic didn’t feel like that distant star in the sky—the one he’d been wishing on every night—was out of reach.

It was right here. Right in front of him.

Just inches away. Close enough that their noses were almost touching, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the attic.

And without even thinking, Sonic reached out—his hand trembling ever so slightly—and let his fingers brush against Shadow’s cheek. It was the lightest touch, feather-soft, checking to make sure he was really here.

Warm.

Real.

Oh yeah…he’s real. Not a dream. Not some guilt-induced hallucination.

But the moment shattered when Shadow’s eyes fluttered open.

Sonic’s heart nearly exploded.

He jerked his hand back like he’d been burned and scrambled an inch away, instinctively bracing for impact. He half-expected a Chaos-fueled fist to launch him straight through the roof. It would’ve been a fair reaction, honestly.

But the punch never came.

Shadow just blinked, slowly. His crimson gaze didn’t focus on Sonic. It didn’t focus on anything . It drifted, distant and vague, like it was searching a place far beyond the walls of the room—or even the world itself.

And then, without a word, he unhooked his arms from around Sonic, sat up, and stared blankly ahead.

Sonic, still sitting back on his hands, stared in utter disbelief.

What…?

He sat up straighter, rubbing the back of his neck, brows furrowed in confusion. This was weird, even for Shadow. Even after everything they’d been through.

Cautiously, Sonic slid over beside him on the bed, keeping his eyes fixed on the other hedgehog.

Shadow didn’t flinch. Didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t even blink.

His posture was rigid but eerily still, like a statue caught between thoughts. His eyes were half-lidded, glassy, staring straight ahead at the attic wall as though it held answers Sonic couldn’t see.

Sonic’s voice dropped to a whisper. “...Shadow?”

No response.

Not a twitch. Not a flick of an ear.

Sonic’s concern deepened. He waved a hand slowly in front of Shadow’s face, fingers moving just inches from his eyes.

Nothing.

Not even a blink.

And then it hit him—like a thunderclap in his brain.

“…Wait,” Sonic breathed. “You’re not awake…are you?”

His stomach flipped.

Shadow wasn’t just silent.

He was sleepwalking .

The mighty Ultimate Lifeform…cuddled him in his sleep, climbed into bed like it was second nature…and now sat there, totally out of it, as if none of it had ever happened.

Sonic dragged both hands down his face and let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

“Great,” he muttered to himself. “I’m living in the Twilight Zone.”

But even through the confusion—and the chaos building in his chest—Sonic couldn’t stop the small, stunned smile forming on his lips.

Sonic reached out hesitantly, brushing his fingers lightly down Shadow’s arm in a gentle attempt to coax him awake.

His hand froze halfway.

Wait. Wasn’t there some rule about this? You’re not supposed to wake up a sleepwalker, right? That was…dangerous. Or something. 

Sonic wasn’t exactly a walking sleep encyclopedia, but he was pretty sure sudden awakenings led to chaos. Panic. Destruction. And in Shadow’s case, possibly an accidental Chaos Blast that would reduce Green Hills to a smoldering crater. Also—minor detail—if Shadow realized where he was, who he was with, and how long he’d apparently been curled around Sonic like a plush toy?

Yeah. Sonic might not live to see morning.

So instead of shaking him or yelling, Sonic did the one thing that came naturally: panic silently and try to wing it.

Okay. Be cool. Handle this with finesse. He’s just sleepwalking. You’ve dealt with worse. Eggman has tried to kill you three times now. This is nothing compared to that. You can do this.

He took a deep breath and leaned in just a little closer. “Shadow,” he whispered, soft and slow.

To his surprise, Shadow’s head tilted at the sound of his name.

And then— his eyes opened wider.

Sonic nearly jumped, but forced himself to stay still. The crimson glow of Shadow’s irises pierced through the dark, faintly illuminated like dying embers in the night.

It would’ve been unnerving, if it wasn’t also— okay, admit it, Sonic —kind of cool.

Nope. Not the time to geek out.

Shadow blinked once, slowly, turning his head toward Sonic. His expression remained utterly blank, his body eerily still, like a ghost caught between dreams.

Sonic swallowed hard and offered the most helpful command he could think of:

“…Go to sleep.”

Smooth, Sonic. Real tactical brilliance there.

But Shadow didn’t argue. Didn’t question. He just blinked again, then—much to Sonic’s amazement—let out the softest exhale and started lowering himself back down, like his mind had quietly accepted the order.

Sonic sat there frozen, not daring to move until Shadow settled completely. One arm loosely draped over the blanket. One leg bent slightly like he was still half-ready to run. But his face relaxed again.

Peaceful. Quiet.

The storm had passed.

“…Okay,” Sonic whispered to himself, barely breathing. “We’re alive. That’s progress.”

He laid back down carefully, not touching him this time, eyes wide open and heart racing.

Shadow was asleep beside him again.

Sonic let out a long, quiet sigh, the kind that came from deep in his chest. His eyes flicked toward each side of the attic, where the soft rhythm of Knuckles’ and Tails’ breathing confirmed they were still fast asleep.

Good. No witnesses. No questions. No chaos. At least not tonight.

He turned toward the digital clock glowing faintly on the shelf beside the bed. 

3:42 a.m.

Great. He’d only been out for a couple of hours, and now his pulse was still pounding like he’d run a marathon.

If he stayed awake now, he’d be a wreck come morning. Cranky Sonic wasn’t a pretty sight—and definitely not someone Tails or Knuckles enjoyed dealing with before breakfast.

And besides…He really didn’t want to be conscious when Shadow woke up.

Not because he was scared exactly. But because he had no idea what to say.

Hey, good to see you alive. Also, why are you using me as a body pillow?

Yeah. No thanks.

So, slowly and carefully, Sonic turned away from the still-sleeping hedgehog, shifting to lie on his side with his back to him. He pulled the blanket up higher and shut his eyes, willing himself to calm down. To relax. To forget that tonight had flipped everything upside down.

He could still feel Shadow’s presence behind him—solid and warm, the weight of the bed dipping just slightly beneath him.

Then, just as he started to drift…

Arms slipped around his waist again.

Sonic froze. Again.

Oh my Chaos.

His brain lit up in a hundred directions, half of them screaming run and the other half completely blank. But his body…it didn’t move.

Instead, it relaxed.

Because, honestly?

He was too tired to deal with this. Too tired to question it, to panic, to push Shadow off and unravel whatever dream—or nightmare —he was currently trapped in.

Sonic sighed into his pillow. “Yeah, alright,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

And this time, when he closed his eyes, he didn’t open them again.

—

The first sensation of waking was disorienting.

That hazy, in-between moment where dreams still clung to his thoughts like morning dew, and reality hadn’t quite settled back in.

Then it hit him. A sudden rush of awareness. Something had happened.

Sonic’s eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright in bed, heart already racing like he was mid-sprint. He whipped his head to the side, half-expecting—

Empty.

The space beside him was cold, undisturbed. The blanket barely even creased.

Sonic blinked hard, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand as if clearing his vision might change what he was seeing.

Still empty.

No sign of Shadow.

No glowing red eyes. No white gloves. No warmth curled beside him.

Just quiet.

Just him.

He ran a hand through his quills and stared down at the bed, breath catching somewhere in his chest.

Had it all been a dream?

The thought curled in his stomach, sharp and heavy. It felt real. So real. The weight of those arms, the soft exhale against his back, the way Shadow had looked at him—even if dazed. Even if distant. Sonic could still feel it all lingering on his skin.

But now…

Nothing.

He let himself fall back into the mattress with a thud, arms flopping over his eyes as a groan slipped out.

“Great,” he muttered. “Losing my mind. Awesome.”

But as he lay there in the silence, eyes hidden beneath the crook of his elbow, he couldn’t shake one thing:

The faint smell left on the pillow beside him .

Gunmetal and earth.

Faint. Barely there.

But unmistakably him.

And suddenly, Sonic wasn’t so sure it had been a dream at all.

Chapter Text

Even though Sonic had technically slept , he woke up feeling like he hadn’t gotten a single second of rest. His body moved through the motions of the day, but his mind…it dragged behind, heavy and fogged like a storm cloud that refused to clear.

He wasn’t physically tired—he was used to pushing himself, burning energy like it was endless. But mentally? He felt wrung out. Like a machine running with nothing left in the tank.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Shadow .

Helping Tails calibrate the guidance system for his new glider? Shadow.

Sparring with Knuckles behind the house, trading blows and banter? Shadow.

Replanting wildflowers with Maddie in their backyard, the sun warm on his fur and dirt under his gloves? Still Shadow.

Even dinner—just sitting at the table while Tom vented about Earl getting his truck stuck in the lake again —wasn’t safe. Sonic nodded along, smiled where he should’ve, laughed at the right parts, but all he could see in his head was the faint red glow of eyes in the dark. And as the last light of the day stretched across the grass, he tried playing fetch with Ozzy just to distract himself. The dog barked joyfully, tail wagging, and Sonic forced a grin, threw the stick again, again, again —faster, farther, just trying to outrun it .

But it didn’t work.

Every step, every blink, every breath was haunted by the night before.

That moment of warmth. The weight of arms around his waist. Those glowing red eyes opening in the dark. The eerie silence. And then—gone. Like it had never happened at all.

Had it?

That question looped in his brain like a bad track, playing over and over, louder with each pass.

Was it real? Had Shadow actually been there?

Or had Sonic’s exhaustion and longing finally cooked up something his heart couldn’t tell from reality?

He didn’t have an answer, and it was driving him insane .

He was back on the roof again.

It was quickly becoming a nightly ritual—sitting under the Montana sky, perched high above the quiet world, searching the stars like they owed him answers. Like if he stared hard enough, long enough, one of them might blink back with the truth.

Tails had joined him, plopping down with a blanket and two root beers, one of which Sonic had barely touched. The younger fox was chatting animatedly, his twin tails swishing behind him as he recounted some misadventure at the junkyard.

“—and then the dog leaped over a busted car door, Sonic, I swear! I had to dive into an old fridge just to get away! And the owner? Just stood there, eating a sandwich! Didn’t say a thing! ”

Sonic chuckled faintly, but his eyes never left the stars.

He was only half there. Maybe less. Red eyes. Burning like embers in the night. Watching him.

“…onic…”

Unblinking. Elegant. The memory clung like fog in his mind, thick and inescapable.

“…nic…”

His heart twisted just thinking about it.

“…ic…”

Beautiful.

“Sonic!”

“Ah! What?! Yes! Sure, whatever!” Sonic blurted, jolting upright, nearly tipping off the edge of the roof. He turned to Tails, blinking wildly like he’d just been yanked out of a dream.

Tails raised a brow, ears twitching. “Uh…what? I didn’t ask a question.”

Sonic blinked again, then ran a hand over his face. “Right. Yeah. Sorry, bud. I just—got lost in thought.”

“Clearly,” Tails said with a soft huff, though his voice wasn’t annoyed—just concerned. “You’ve been spacing out all day. And don’t tell me you’re just tired. I know your ‘tired’ voice. This is different.”

Sonic didn’t answer right away. He glanced up again, at the shattered moon and the stars stretching across the sky like scattered hopes.

Was it real? Was he really here?

He swallowed hard and leaned back on his hands, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“…I think I saw him, Tails,” he said softly.

Tails didn’t need to ask who. The look in Sonic’s eyes said it all.

“…Shadow?”

Sonic nodded once.

“I don’t know if it was a dream,” he added. “But it felt real. Too real.”

Tails was quiet for a moment, his expression shifting from curious to thoughtful.

“Well,” he said eventually, “real or not…something about it’s clearly sticking with you.”

Sonic sighed again, this time heavier, eyes flicking to the horizon. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Like a star that won’t burn out.”

“What exactly happened in this…‘dream’ of yours?” Tails asked gently, tilting his head as he watched Sonic.

Sonic's face flushed instantly, the tips of his ears turning a shade redder than usual. He looked away, pretending to focus on a particularly bright star, and scratched the back of his neck.

“N-Nothing! I mean, not really. Nothing important,” he stammered, far too quickly. “He was just…there. But not really there. Like he was close, but…far away. Distant? I don’t know.”

Tails didn’t press, but Sonic could feel the knowing look aimed his way.

“Hmm,” the fox hummed thoughtfully. “Sounds like a message.”

“A message?” Sonic blinked at him. “From who?”

“I dunno. The universe? Your subconscious?” Tails shrugged, sipping his root beer like this was completely normal territory. “Maybe it’s just your way of working through everything that happened. Or maybe it’s a sign.”

Sonic raised a brow. “A sign ? Seriously?”

“Why not?” Tails grinned, then gestured toward the sky. “You’re always up here looking for something. Maybe this dream was just the start of it.”

Sonic gave a half hearted laugh. “Tails, I think I’ve officially cracked. I’m dreaming about a guy who tried to blow up the planet, and now I’m searching the stars like they’ve got answers.”

Tails nudged his shoulder lightly. “Hey. I dream about circuits coming alive and chasing me with laser eyes. Your brain just has a…more emotional way of processing stuff.”

Sonic groaned and let himself fall back against the roof tiles. “Great. So now I’m not just tired, I’m sentimental and possibly losing my mind.”

Tails leaned back beside him, tails swishing lazily.

“Don’t stress it too much, Sonic. If he comes back, he comes back. And if not…well, at least you’ll have your sanity intact. Maybe.”

Sonic cracked a smile.

“Just…don’t burn yourself out over something you can’t control,” Tails added, softer now. “You’re gonna end up with grey quills if you keep obsessing over it.”

Sonic snorted. “Bold of you to assume they wouldn’t look awesome.”

Tails chuckled. “Yeah, okay.”

Their laughter rang out across the rooftop, light and unburdened, echoing gently into the quiet night. Then Tails yawned, long and soft, his shoulders slumping as the day finally caught up to him.

“Well,” he murmured, stretching his arms above his head with a quiet groan, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Big day tomorrow—if the dog doesn’t ambush me at the junkyard again.”

Sonic smirked. “Yeah, try not to get eaten by that fridge dog.”

Tails gave a sleepy snort. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

As he stood up and gathered his empty root beer can, Sonic leaned back on his elbows and grinned. “Don’t stay up too long,” Tails said as he turned toward the skylight.

“Okay, mom ,” Sonic teased, his voice playful and dramatic.

Tails rolled his eyes so hard it was almost audible. “You wish I was that patient.”

He flapped his twin tails and rose effortlessly into the air, hovering a moment at the edge of the skylight. The soft light from inside spilled onto the rooftop, casting his silhouette in a warm glow.

“Night, Sonic,” he called over his shoulder.

Sonic watched him for a second, the grin on his face softening. “Night, little bro.”

With that, Tails disappeared into the house, the skylight swinging shut with a quiet click .

And Sonic was alone again—just him and the stars.

Sonic lingered on the rooftop long after Tails had gone, letting the night wrap around him like a blanket. The world below had quieted into that late-night stillness only small towns like Green Hills knew. Porch lights flicked off one by one in the distance. Window glows faded into dark rectangles. Even the usual chirp of crickets had softened into a lullaby.

It was peaceful. So much so that Sonic almost forgot how heavy his eyes were.

He yawned without warning, jaw stretching wide, and blinked a few times as the sleepiness caught up with him. Yeah…he should probably call it a night.

Reaching behind his ear, he pulled his phone from his quills and tapped the screen. The glow made him squint, and his heart sank a little when he saw the time.

1:12 AM.

“Seriously?” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “How long have I been sitting out here?”

He didn’t know. The hours had slipped away too easily—between stargazing, Tails’ stories, and his own thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.

Sonic stretched his arms up over his head, letting out a soft grunt as his joints gave a satisfying pop. He was just about to stand when—

Crack.

A soft surge of energy fizzled through the air behind him. It wasn’t loud, but it was distinct—a low hum, followed by the unmistakable static crackle of Chaos Energy.

Every instinct in Sonic’s body snapped to attention.

He spun around fast, heart thudding, legs already coiled in case he needed to bolt or fight. Chaos Energy usually only meant one of two things: a portal…or trouble.

What he didn’t expect was him.

Shadow stood a few feet away, practically glowing from the light of the shattered moon. His form was steady, but his posture wasn’t threatening—just still. His red eyes were glowing faintly in the dark, but there was no focus in them. His gaze was distant, unfixed, almost dreamlike.

Sonic's breath caught.

“…Shadow?”

No answer. No movement. Just those half-lidded eyes watching him—or maybe not watching at all. It was like déjà vu. Just like the other night. That night he still wasn’t sure had even happened.

But this…this was real.

He could feel the thrum of energy in the air, the slight rise in temperature from Chaos travel. The faintest smell of ozone.

Shadow was here. Again.

And Sonic had no idea why.

Shadow stood at the very edge of the roof, his shoes balanced precariously on the slanted shingles. The slight tilt of his body was subtle at first—barely a lean—but then it deepened, his weight shifting backward just enough to break equilibrium.

Gravity was already reaching for him.

“Woah—!” Sonic reacted on instinct.

In a blur of blue, he lunged forward and caught him, just before Shadow could topple off the rooftop. His arms wrapped around him securely, gripping his torso tight as he pulled him away from the drop. Shadow didn’t resist. Didn’t flinch. His body just…folded into Sonic’s hold like it was where he was always meant to be.

His head slumped against Sonic’s shoulder, the cool brush of his quills grazing along Sonic’s cheek. Sonic could feel the weight of him now—solid, real, warm. The faint rise and fall of his chest told him he was breathing, but otherwise, he was completely unresponsive.

Sonic held him there, heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know what surprised him more—that Shadow had nearly fallen, or that he hadn’t reacted at all. 

He glanced down at the figure in his arms, still trying to process it all. “Shadow…?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

The quiet wind tousled Sonic’s fur as he stood there, holding the same hedgehog he thought he’d lost—again.

Sonic carefully guided Shadow away from the rooftop's sloped edge, his hands firm but gentle as he helped him up to the flatter part of the roof. It was safer here—barely—but Sonic’s nerves were still rattling from how close Shadow had come to falling.

Once they reached the even surface, Sonic took a cautious step back, his hands lingering for a second before letting go.

Shadow stood there once more—motionless, quiet, unnervingly still. His expression was unreadable. Not angry, not confused…just blank. But his eyes, red and dimly glowing, were locked onto Sonic, almost like he was looking through him.

"Shadow…?" Sonic asked again softly, his voice barely louder than the wind. "Can you hear me?"

Silence.

Sonic took another step back, hands half-raised like he was calming a wild animal—or maybe trying to calm himself.

“You can’t just…keep doing this,” he said, his voice rising with nervous frustration. “What if someone sees you? What if Knuckles sees you? He’ll freak. And Tails—Tails’ll probably pass out or something!”

Still no answer. Not even a blink.

Sonic let out a breath, exasperated. “Why am I even talking like you can—”

Shadow moved.

One step forward. Then another.

Before Sonic could even finish his thought, Shadow closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Sonic’s shoulders.

Sonic squeaked in surprise, the breath leaving his lungs in a startled huff. His whole body tensed.

“Woah—n-no, Shadow! No,” Sonic stammered, hands landing on Shadow’s chest as he tried to gently push him away. “Ever heard of personal space? Back up.”

But Shadow didn’t listen. He leaned forward again, arms slipping around Sonic’s back as if he’d done in a million times before.

And again, Sonic froze.

“Oh my Chaos,” he whispered.

It wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t demanding. If anything, it felt…safe? Familiar. Like Shadow was seeking something—comfort, maybe. Or maybe he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. Sonic stood there, caught between the urge to run and the pull to stay. Shadow’s breath was soft against his neck, his grip calm but unyielding.

He wasn’t attacking. He was just…holding him.

“C’mon, man,” Sonic murmured, trying to laugh off the tension as he once again placed his hands on Shadow’s chest. “Work with me here. You're not making this easy.”

He gave another gentle push, hoping this time Shadow would finally budge.

But then—

“...onic…”

Sonic froze.

The sound was barely audible, almost lost to the night wind. A soft, raspy murmur—like a breath dragged through sleep. But Sonic heard it. Clear as anything.

His name.

Shadow had said his name.

Sonic’s hands stiffened where they rested against Shadow’s chest, and his heart skipped a beat. His ears twitched, straining to catch more, to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“Shadow…?” he whispered.

But Shadow didn’t move. His face was still pressed against Sonic’s shoulder, eyes closed now, breathing steady and low.

Sonic's pulse was racing. That hadn’t been a trick of the mind. That hadn’t been a dream.

He said my name.

It wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t clear—but it was real.

Sonic swallowed hard, unsure if he should be scared, relieved, or something in between. The silence that followed was deafening, his own breath sounding loud in his ears.

He didn’t know what this meant. Was Shadow waking up? Was this just another sleepwalking episode? Or was he caught somewhere in between— reaching for something, maybe someone, in the dark?

Sonic didn’t push him away this time. Not yet. Not until he understood.

“…Shadow,” he whispered again, softer now. “If you can hear me…say it again.”

But Shadow remained still, and still holding on.

And Sonic stood frozen, mind racing, heart thundering, wondering just how much of the Shadow he barely knew still lingered behind that faraway gaze.

“…safe…”

The word slipped out so quietly, Sonic almost missed it—more exhaled than spoken, like a ghost of a thought riding the edge of a dream.

Sonic’s breath hitched.

“Safe?” he echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

The word hung in the air between them, fragile and impossibly heavy. It wasn’t a question, not the way Shadow had said it. It was a statement. A declaration. As if—somehow—he had made his way here, to this rooftop, in his half sleeping state…because it felt safe.

Because Sonic felt safe.

Sonic blinked, eyes wide as he stared at the still form clinging to him, the realization dawning like the first light of morning. Shadow wasn’t attacking. He wasn’t warning him off. He wasn’t cold, or cruel, or silent out of spite. He was vulnerable.

Something Sonic had only seen on top of the moon.

Shadow, the anger fueled, the Eclipse Cannon’s living key, the ultimate lifeform—was asleep on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him, whispering the word safe.

And Sonic didn’t know what to do with that.

“…Yeah,” Sonic murmured after a long pause, swallowing past the tightness in his throat. He placed one hand gently against the small of Shadow’s back, the other hesitating before brushing lightly through the ends of his quills. “You’re safe here. I got you.”

No response this time. Shadow remained still, the soft rhythm of his breathing the only sound between them.

But Sonic didn’t need a reply. He stayed there in the silence, heart still racing but no longer from fear—something softer had taken hold now. 

Safe.

That word replayed in Sonic’s mind like a song he didn’t realize he needed to hear.

“Okay, buddy,” Sonic whispered, steadying his breath as he gently began to pull Shadow back, trying not to startle him. “I know you wanna stay here—really—but you can’t. You need to go home…wherever that even is now.”

He eased Shadow back just enough to see his face again, hoping for some kind of clarity, even a flicker in those dim crimson eyes.

That’s when Shadow’s lips parted, barely.

“…no…”

The word was hoarse, as if Shadow hadn’t talked in ages.

Sonic blinked. “What?”

Then, even quieter—almost like it hurt to say—

“…home…”

Sonic stared, stunned, the pieces slowly clicking together in his mind. Shadow wasn’t just lost, he didn’t have a home.

The word home didn’t mean safety for Shadow. It meant isolation, emptiness. Maybe even guilt.

Sonic’s heart sank.

“Shadow…” he said softly, the name full of more than just concern now—understanding, sorrow, empathy. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. I just…I didn’t think…”

He trailed off, unsure what else to say. What could he say? This wasn’t the Shadow he knew from when they’d met. This wasn’t the defiant, cold soldier who wished death upon himself on the surface of the moon. This was someone adrift—tethered to Sonic by nothing more than instinct and the word safe.

And somehow, that felt heavier than any fight they’d ever had.

Sonic let out a slow breath and reached up, brushing a hand gently over Shadow’s shoulder.

“…Then stay,” he said at last, voice quiet, sure. “Just for tonight.”

Shadow didn’t respond—not in words. But his arms slowly, almost imperceptibly, tightened around Sonic again.

“Okay, enough with the hugs,” Sonic muttered, trying to inject some lightness into the moment as his heart continued its slow somersault in his chest. “You can stay, but you’re getting the guest room. I’m not running a cuddle motel.”

He turned slightly, glancing toward the skylight entrance.

And then it hit him.

Wait. How the heck are we supposed to get down?

The rooftop was tilted, steep in some places, and the nearest way in was the attic window. Technically doable for Sonic, but with Shadow…?

He stared down at the sleeping hedgehog still clinging tightly to his arm.

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to carry you…” he whispered, even though the answer was already clear.

Shadow’s grip hadn’t loosened in the slightest, fingers curled around Sonic’s forearm like a lifeline. Even in sleep, he wasn’t letting go.

Sonic sighed through his nose, one part exasperated, the other part reluctant to disturb him. Shadow was literally draped over him like gravity had given up. And knowing Shadow’s pride, if he woke up mid carry, Sonic would probably get Chaos Speared into next week.

“Please don’t wake up,” Sonic muttered under his breath, “but if you do…make my death quick and painless, yeah?”

He shifted slightly and leaned in. “I need my arm, dude.”

No response. No movement.

Sonic groaned softly, half laughing, half pleading, then reached up and began to gently peel Shadow’s arms from his own—slow, careful, like disarming a very sleepy bomb. Shadow murmured something unintelligible, and Sonic froze, waiting. But the moment passed, and Shadow relaxed again.

With an exaggerated sigh of acceptance, Sonic slid one arm beneath Shadow’s knees, the other under his back, and slowly— so slowly —lifted him up into his arms.

“You’re lucky I work out,” Sonic whispered, already imagining Knuckles catching him like this and never letting him live it down.

Shadow’s head lolled gently against his shoulder, and Sonic paused, watching the way the moonlight traced his face.

He really was here.

Sonic tightened his grip just a little—not too much, just enough to make sure he wouldn’t drop him—and started toward the edge of the roof.

“Alright, Shadow,” he murmured, voice softer than he meant it to be, “let’s get you somewhere warm to sleep.”

Sonic landed silently on the back rooftop, a breath of wind rustling the trees below. He winced as his shoes hit the shingles but—thank Chaos—the noise was minimal. The back door loomed a few feet ahead, and to his immense relief, it turned out his family’s bad habit of never locking it had continued.

“Really need to break them of that,” Sonic muttered as he cracked the door open just enough to slip inside.

He eased it shut behind him, locking it this time, and let the quiet of the house settle around him. Every floorboard had its own unique squeak, but Sonic had long since memorized the exact sequence of steps to avoid them all. Moving like a shadow himself, he glided through the hall and up the stairs, Shadow still nestled in his arms, his breathing soft and steady against Sonic’s shoulder.

The guest room door creaked faintly on its hinges, and Sonic flinched, pausing to listen. Nothing. No shifting from the bedrooms down the hall. No footsteps. Just silence.

He slipped inside and gently nudged the door closed behind him, turning the knob to mute the click as it latched.

The room was dim, the only light pouring through the window from the moon outside. It bathed everything in silver. Sonic moved to the bed and carefully laid Shadow down onto the mattress, adjusting the pillow beneath his head and pulling the blanket over him.

He stared for a long moment. Shadow didn’t stir. His face was still unreadable—neutral, almost peaceful—but Sonic didn’t trust it.

He exhaled softly. “Okay. Mission impossible complete.”

Just as he turned to leave, a sudden grip latched onto his wrist.

Sonic jumped, barely biting back a startled noise. He looked down.

Shadow was awake. Or…something like it.

His crimson eyes were half lidded, unfocused—but locked directly onto Sonic’s.

“...need…”

The word was barely more than a breath, but it made Sonic’s stomach drop.

“…Need what?” he whispered, his voice cracking in the quiet.

Shadow blinked slowly, like every movement took effort. “…you…”

The room might as well have stopped spinning. Sonic's brain short-circuited. Did Shadow just—

“…What?” Sonic managed, voice barely above a whisper, heart thundering in his chest.

Shadow’s grip tightened around his wrist, not harshly, but enough that Sonic knew there was no walking away. Not easily.

Sonic swallowed hard. If he stayed, Shadow might realize he was aware—and Sonic didn’t know what that would mean. Embarrassment? Anger? Chaos Blast to the face?

But if he left…If Shadow woke up and realized he’d been alone, after whatever kind of state he was in…

Maybe that would be worse.

“Of course,” Sonic muttered to himself, giving the door one last glance before sighing and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Figures. You hug in your sleep like a champ and mutter cryptic nonsense, and now I’m stuck here because my survival instincts are telling me both choices could get me killed.”

Shadow didn’t respond. But his grip loosened slightly, his hand sliding from Sonic’s wrist and resting on the edge of the blanket instead.

Sonic looked down at him, brow furrowing as the weight of it all settled in his chest.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just sleepwalking anymore. This was something deeper.

And Sonic wasn’t sure he was ready for what it meant.

“…Fine,” he whispered. “Just for tonight.”

Sonic sat at the edge of the guest bed, staring down at the quietly breathing form of Shadow now nestled beneath the covers. For a second, he considered just sleeping on the floor. Or maybe not sleeping at all. But judging by how drained he felt and the soft pulsing ache behind his eyes, he knew he’d regret that decision in the morning.

“Alright…” he muttered to himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “but only because I’m too tired to care.”

With a sigh, Sonic kicked off his shoes and climbed in—carefully, like he was sharing a bed with a ticking time bomb. Which, in a way, he kind of was.

He made a point to keep as far to his side as physically possible, even tucking himself up against the edge like he might roll off at any moment. He yanked a corner of the blanket over himself and pulled it tight, cocooning himself in just enough warmth without inviting contact.

“But you,” he said, glancing at Shadow’s unmoving figure, “are staying on your side.”

His voice was low, almost a whisper in the quiet dark.

“I mean it, Shadow. One wrong move, and I’m the one getting Chaos Blasted across the room. Or worse—an elbow to the face. Not exactly how I wanna start my morning.”

There was no response, just the faint sound of Shadow’s steady breathing. Sonic sighed and settled deeper into the mattress, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

“…You really picked a weird time to start sleep-cuddling,” he muttered. “Next time, just knock like a normal person.”

But even as he said it, his gaze lingered on the figure lying still on the other side of the bed. A warmth pulsed through Sonic’s chest that he didn’t want to think about too hard.

He turned over and shut his eyes.

“Stay. On. Your. Side,” he whispered one last time, more to himself than anyone else.

Sonic finally let himself melt into the mattress, limbs relaxing one by one as he focused on something— anything —other than the very real, very confusing situation lying just a few feet away from him. He needed a plan. A good one. A normal one.

“Okay,” he whispered into the dark, talking himself down like he had a habit of doing whenever things got too weird. “Tomorrow: forget this ever happened. Easy.”

Step one: pretend your maybe-friend-slash-former-enemy-slash-midnight-cuddle-invader did not show up out of nowhere using and curl into your personal space like it was a weighted blanket.

Step two: research—something. Anything. What does it mean when a hedgehog who once tried to obliterate the planet starts teleporting into your bedroom in the middle of the night? Is that a cry for help? A new side effect of Chaos Control?

Step three: get a chili dog. That part of the plan was non-negotiable.

Then maybe, if time allowed, he’d tag along with Knuckles and Wade for one of those “warrior’s path” training sessions—mostly for the laughs, partially to keep his brain from spiraling.

Comics. Gardening with Maddie. Interrogating Tom about the townsfolk over dinner just to watch him get dramatically flustered again.

Normal stuff. Grounded stuff.

Something familiar and sane and—

That’s when it happened. Again.

The unmistakable sensation of an arm—strong, firm, and very much not imaginary —snaked around his waist, pulling him into a loose hold like he was some kind of plush toy.

Sonic went stiff as a board.

Then he let out a tiny, helpless squeak.

“…Seriously?” he hissed under his breath, glancing over his shoulder to see that, yes, Shadow had migrated across the bed in his sleep again, eyes closed, breathing steady—expression soft in a way Sonic was absolutely not ready to process.

“Shadow,” Sonic whispered sharply, voice barely more than a breath, “what did I say about staying on your side?”

No answer. Just the soft rhythm of breathing and a gentle squeeze around his waist, like Shadow’s unconscious mind had doubled down on the idea of Sonic being the world’s warmest, most conveniently shaped stuffed animal.

Sonic let his head drop back to the pillow with an exaggerated groan. “Of course. No response. Naturally.”

He stared up at the ceiling in the dim room, eyes wide, his whole body locked in a delicate balance between panic and reluctant acceptance.

“This is fine,” he muttered to himself, voice cracking just slightly. 

Totally fine. I’m just being used as a body pillow by the Ultimate Lifeform, no big deal. No one’s gonna find out. No one’s gonna walk in and see this. Not Tails. Not Knuckles. Not Tom. Not Maddie. No one is gonna know.

His cheeks were burning. He could feel the heat radiating off his face like he was about to ignite.

I’m going to die. Not from Shadow waking up and snapping my spine—no, no. From sheer embarrassment. I’m going to spontaneously combust before the sun even rises.

He shifted just a little, testing to see if he could wiggle out of Shadow’s grasp without triggering an interdimensional meltdown.

The arm tightened.

Yep. Okay. I accept my fate.

He blew out a long sigh, eyes fluttering closed, trying to force his brain to quiet. “Guess I’ll just enjoy these last few peaceful hours before I meet my untimely end at the hands of a confused and heavily armed sleepwalker.”

And somehow—despite the absurdity, the heat in his face, and the looming threat of a very awkward morning—Sonic let himself drift back into sleep, still wrapped in the arms of the last person he ever expected to find comfort in.

Chapter Text

Sonic stirred awake the next morning, bracing himself for pain.

He cracked one eye open, half-expecting to find his face swollen, his jaw dislocated, or at the very least, a bruise blooming over one eye—courtesy of a startled Ultimate Lifeform realizing he’d accidentally spent the night cuddling his so-called rival. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing Shadow would take lightly. Sonic had actually prepped a few excuses in his sleep, just in case. ("You latched onto me , dude," being the frontrunner.)

But when he sat up, the first thing he noticed wasn’t pain.

It was the cold emptiness beside him.

The space where Shadow had been—tangled in the sheets, draped around him like he belonged there—was now just...flat fabric and leftover warmth.

Sonic blinked, sleep still clinging to the corners of his eyes. He pressed a hand to the spot, still faintly warm.

He was gone.

No Chaos Energy flare. No sound of teleportation. No trace of how long ago it happened. Just…gone.

Sonic let out a breath and rubbed at his face. Part of him was relieved. The other part felt something a little heavier.

No bruised face. No broken nose. No awkward confrontation.

But no answers either.

And the worst part? A piece of him had hoped Shadow would still be there when he woke up. He didn’t even know why .

Sonic ran both hands through his quills, groaning quietly to himself.

His mind was a complete mess—scattered like rings after a hit. Why did he want Shadow to stick around so badly? They weren’t exactly close. Barely even friends, if he was being honest.

Sure, they’d fought side by side. Saved the world together. Traded a few meaningful looks on the moon and the occasional not-so-veiled insult. But they didn’t hang out. They didn’t talk. Shadow didn’t laugh at his jokes—or probably anyone’s. Their connection was built solely on the fact that Shadow kept teleporting right to him in his sleep.

And yet...

Sonic hugged his knees to his chest, staring at the rumpled spot in the bed where Shadow had been. The silence in the room now felt suffocating.

He didn’t understand it.

Was it the mystery of it all? The way Shadow showed up unannounced, vanished without a word, like a dream that walked and breathed? Or was it something else—something heavier—like guilt, like regret, like...hope?

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid.

But some small, stubborn part of him had wanted to wake up and still feel that weight at his side. To prove it was real. To know that Shadow chose to be there, even if he couldn’t say why.

“Why am I like this?” Sonic muttered, flopping back against the bed with a dramatic sigh.

No answers came.

Just that same quiet question looping in his chest:

Why did he want him to stay so badly?

—

Sonic padded down the stairs slowly, arms wrapped around himself. The morning light filtering in through the windows did nothing to chase away the chill that clung to his fur. The house felt unusually quiet—eerily still. Tails and Knuckles were nowhere to be found, probably off on some early adventure, and Tom was already on duty. Only one person sat at the kitchen island.

Maddie.

She looked cozy in a sweatshirt and pajama pants, a steaming mug of coffee cradled in her hands. Her eyes were a little tired, but she smiled when she saw him. It didn’t take long for her expression to shift into something more knowing.

“Sonic,” she said gently, “why’d you sleep in the guest room last night?”

Crap.

Sonic hesitated for just a second too long. “Uh—the attic was kinda hot,” he offered, scratching the back of his neck. “The guest room’s got, uh…better airflow. Yeah. Way cooler.”

Maddie raised a brow, sipping her coffee slowly. “Mhm. The heatwave was rough yesterday. Makes sense. Just try not to track dirt in there, okay?”

“What? Me? I would never!” Sonic said with his most innocent grin.

Maddie smirked behind her mug. “Sure. Then I won’t bother reminding you of the many times you’ve passed out in your attic bed still wearing those dirt-covered shoes.”

Sonic winced. “Okay, that was like…twice.”

“Five times, at least.”

He groaned and flopped dramatically into one of the chairs. “Fine, you win. I’m a walking mess.”

“But you’re our mess,” Maddie said fondly, reaching out to ruffle his quills as he pouted. “Just be careful with that guest bed. And maybe whatever else you’re sneaking around with these days.”

Sonic nearly choked on air. “What? Sneaking around? Me? What would even give you that idea?”

Maddie just gave him a look . The kind that mothers were experts at. The kind that saw straight through him.

“Uh-huh,” Maddie said, eyeing him over the rim of her mug. “Want some coffee?”

Sonic blinked slowly, like he was only just registering the question. “I’m not really…hungry,” he mumbled, rubbing at his arm.

Maddie’s brow furrowed immediately, the mug clinking softly as she set it down. “Really? Are you feeling sick?” She didn’t wait for permission—her hand was already reaching out, cool fingers brushing against his forehead.

“I’m not sick!” Sonic protested, flinching more from embarrassment than discomfort.

“Well, you don’t feel hot,” she murmured, eyes narrowing in concern. “Does your stomach hurt? Or your head?”

“Mom,” Sonic groaned, slumping forward onto the counter. “I’m fine.”

Maddie leaned back with a sigh, clearly not convinced but willing to ease off for now. “Alright, alright. I’m just checking. You don’t usually turn down food, that’s all.”

Sonic didn’t respond right away. His fingers traced an invisible pattern into marble of the island, expression distant.

Maddie softened. “You need to eat something though, sweetheart. How about some fruit? I’ve got some strawberries and pineapple in the fridge.”

“…Okay,” he said after a pause, his voice small. “Just a little.”

She gave him a smile and a light pat on the shoulder before moving toward the fridge. “You don’t have to talk about whatever’s eating you,” she said gently. “But you don’t have to carry it alone, either.”

Sonic stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the countertop. His heart was heavy, but somehow, Maddie’s kindness made it just a little easier to breathe.

“…Thanks,” he murmured.

How was he even supposed to bring this up? Like, hey Mom, guess what—Shadow’s alive! Oh, and not just alive—he’s been teleporting into our house in the middle of the night. Into my room, specifically. Sometimes sleepwalking. Sometimes not. Sometimes he just…stands there and stares at me which is actually kind of creepy.

Yeah. That wouldn’t go over well.

Sonic sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He couldn’t even explain it to himself, let alone to Maddie or anyone else. How was he supposed to say, “Hey, remember that brooding guy who tried to kill me a while back? Well, turns out he’s been crashing here. Right in my bed, actually.”

Because it wasn’t just about Shadow being alive. It was about why he kept showing up—why he chose Sonic of all people. And why Sonic kept letting him.

And maybe, just maybe…

Why Sonic wanted him to.

Maddie set the bowl of fruit down in front of him, complete with a little fork resting neatly on the rim.

“Thanks…” Sonic mumbled, picking at a piece of pineapple without meeting her eyes.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said gently, brushing his quills back for a moment before sitting across next to him again with her coffee in hand.

The kitchen was quiet—sunlight trickling through the blinds, the hum of the fridge the only sound besides the soft clink of Sonic’s fork against the bowl.

He could lie. He could say it was nothing. But the weight in his chest said otherwise.

Yesterday, he’d written it off as a dream. A weird, vivid dream where Shadow showed up and melted into him like he belonged there. But Sonic knew better now.

Those red eyes in the dark weren’t imagined. That warmth beside him hadn’t been his imagination.

He swallowed hard, then cleared his throat.

“Promise not to laugh?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow over her mug. “I would never laugh at you. You know that.”

“Okay, well…” Sonic hesitated, twirling the fork between his fingers before stabbing a strawberry. “I keep having this dream. Or—I thought it was a dream.”

Maddie leaned in slightly, concern softening the corners of her expression.

“It’s the same every time,” Sonic continued, eyes flicking up to hers. “There’s this person. And they keep showing up. Like…out of nowhere. And I always wake up thinking it was just in my head. But it’s not. I’m starting to think—” He stopped, struggling to find words that didn’t sound completely ridiculous. “I’m starting to think they’re real. And they’re actually…coming to see me.”

He poked at a piece of melon. “Weird, right?”

Maddie didn’t laugh. She didn’t scoff or wave it off. She just looked at him, something thoughtful flickering in her eyes.

“Is it someone you know?” she asked quietly. “Someone you’ve met before?”

Sonic hesitated again. Then, slowly…nodded.

“Who is it?” Maddie asked softly, stirring her coffee even though it didn’t need stirring.

Sonic hesitated, his shoulders tensing. He poked at the fruit again, suddenly more interested in the pineapple than the question hanging in the air.

“Um…Shadow,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Maddie’s hand stilled.

There was a pause—brief, but heavy—before she set the spoon down and looked away for just a beat too long.

“…Is that so?” she said, her voice unreadable.

Oh no.

Sonic sat up straighter, ears twitching. “Uh, yeah. I don’t really know why he keeps coming back, or what any of it even means. I mean, it’s not like we’re…I mean, I know what he did. I know he almost—” He swallowed. “I know he hurt Tom. Badly.”

His voice cracked a little, and Maddie turned back to him, her expression softer now.

“I know you guys forgave him and everything. And that was huge of you. Really. But—”

“Sonic,” Maddie said, interrupting gently. “Sweetie…do you miss him?”

Sonic blinked. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

“What?” he finally breathed, like the question had struck a nerve he hadn’t realized was raw.

Maddie just looked at him, patient and calm. “You don’t have to answer right away. But I can see it all over your face.” She smiled faintly. “And the way your ears twitch when you talk about him? That’s a dead giveaway.”

Sonic’s face flushed, and he dropped his gaze to the fruit bowl again, suddenly unsure whether he wanted to hide under the table or tell her everything.

“…Maybe,” Sonic whispered. His fingers tightened slightly around the fork. “It’s just…he’s all alone out there.”

“Is he?” Maddie asked, her voice calm, curious—too calm.

ABORT.

Sonic nearly dropped the fork. “Uh!” he blurted, sitting upright so fast it startled the chair beneath him. “I mean—metaphorically!” he rushed out, waving his hands a little too dramatically. “Like, if he’s alive—big if! —then he’s probably out there alone, you know, doing his…brooding loner thing in a cave or a tree or something!”

Maddie didn’t say anything.

She just took another sip of her coffee, eyes fixed on him over the rim of the mug.

Sonic squirmed under her gaze. “Not that I know that he is in a cave. Or that he’s, like, near trees. Could be anywhere! Like…New Jersey. Yeah, probably New Jersey.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow.

Sonic groaned and slumped forward onto the kitchen island, letting his head thud gently against the countertop. “Please tell me I didn’t just tell on myself.”

“Well…” Maddie set her mug down slowly. “Let’s just say, if you did, I’m not mad. I’m just…listening.”

Sonic peeked up at her through his arms.

“And trying not to laugh,” she added with a warm smile. “Because you’re doing that thing where you try to dig yourself out of a hole by digging faster.”

Sonic groaned again, dramatically flopping forward and pressing his face into the crook of his arm. “He’s so lucky he’s cute,” he muttered into the table.

“What was that?” Maddie asked, her voice deceptively casual.

Sonic’s head shot up so fast his quills nearly hit the fruit bowl. “WHAT? Nothing! I said nothing! Ignore that! I was talking about—um—Ozzy! Yeah, he’s got…a cute tail!”

Maddie just blinked at him, unimpressed.

Sonic’s ears flattened. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. Please.”

“So,” Maddie said, folding her arms on the table, “he is alive?”

Sonic let out a strangled groan. “Mom!”

She didn’t press further—just smiled gently, that mom-knows-everything smile that made Sonic want to sink through the floor. “That actually makes me happy.”

“…what?” he said, cautiously peeking up at her.

“I was worried for him,” Maddie said, her voice softening. “Yes, he put Tom in the hospital, and yes, it took a long time for us to move past that—but that poor kid…He didn’t come into this world with kindness. Or family. Just pressure and orders and trauma.”

Sonic stilled. The way she said “poor kid” hit him harder than expected.

“I figured if anyone could reach him, it’d be you,” she continued, brushing a thumb along the rim of her mug. “And if he ever needs anything—anything at all—you tell me, okay? I want to help.”

Sonic stared at her, throat tight. His voice came out quieter than before. “You’re serious?”

She looked at him with that same kind, unwavering gaze. “Of course I am. I know what second chances look like, Sonic. I saw it in you.”

Sonic swallowed hard, trying not to tear up.

“…Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course,” Maddie said gently. “I won’t tell anyone about this until he’s ready.”

Sonic let out a huge breath of relief, shoulders relaxing for the first time all morning. “Good…Because now I can actually tell you what’s been happening.”

Maddie leaned in a little, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, do tell.”

“Well…” Sonic began, fiddling with his fork, “he keeps…sleep-teleporting? I woke up two nights ago and he was just…in my bed.”

Maddie blinked. “Sleep-teleporting?”

“Yeah…” Sonic rubbed the back of his head. “Like sleepwalking, but with Chaos Energy.”

Maddie arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Uh-huh. And what exactly was he doing in your bed, mister?”

“NOTHING!” Sonic squawked, face going crimson as he flailed his arms. “We didn’t do anything! He was asleep! Like, completely unconscious! I didn’t invite him, he just—he just appeared ! Like—poof!”

Maddie burst out laughing, nearly spilling her coffee. “Okay, okay! Calm down—I’m just teasing.”

Sonic groaned, slumping into his chair. “You’re evil.”

“I’m a mom. It’s my job,” she said sweetly, sipping her coffee.

“Anyway,” Sonic continued, “it happened again last night. I couldn’t sleep, so I was out on the roof, and then suddenly—bam—he’s just there . Completely asleep. I had to carry him back inside.”

Maddie blinked again, quieter now. “Did he say why?”

“He didn’t at first,” Sonic said, softer now. “But he was talking in his sleep. Said…he had no home. No place to go.”

Maddie’s face shifted immediately, her teasing smile falling into something tender and aching. “Oh, that poor baby…”

“Mom,” Sonic groaned again, though his voice was gentler this time. “Ease up on the maternal instincts.”

“Sorry, sorry. Can’t help it,” she murmured, still clearly moved.

“That’s why I was in the guest room,” Sonic explained. “He wouldn’t let go of my arm. Just clung to it. But when I woke up this morning…he was gone again.”

Maddie reached out, her fingers curling gently around Sonic’s hand. Her palm was warm—steadying. “You’re doing the right thing, honey.”

Sonic looked up at her, eyes searching. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said, her voice soft but sure, like the calm after a storm. “You were one of the only people who tried to reach out to him. Before everything happened. Before the world decided what kind of person he was allowed to be.”

Sonic’s brows furrowed, his thumb fidgeting against the edge of the table. “I dunno. Maybe I’m just making things worse for him.”

“No,” Maddie said firmly. “If anything, you’re the only thing good in his life right now. He keeps showing up here, doesn’t he? And not just anywhere. To you. That’s not a coincidence, sweetie. That’s instinct. Probably his subconscious dragging him toward the one person who made him feel safe.”

Sonic blinked, caught off guard. “You think it’s that?”

“I do. And I think I know why,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got a good heart, Sonic. Big and brave and stubborn—but good through and through. I think he sees that. I think he’s holding on to it, even if he doesn’t understand why yet.”

Sonic didn’t respond right away, his throat tight and chest warm. Finally, he offered a quiet, “Thanks, Mom.”

Maddie smiled. “Anytime, sweetheart. Just keep being patient with him. He’s figuring things out. And you? You’re helping more than you know.”

“But how can I be patient,” Sonic asked, his voice strained, “when he’s never awake when I see him?”

Maddie gave a knowing smile, taking a sip of her coffee. “He’ll wake up one day, sweetheart. You’re just never awake when he opens his eyes in the morning.”

Sonic blinked. “Wait—how do you know he’s not just…I don’t know, accidentally teleporting to me in his sleep? What if he doesn’t even know he’s coming to me?”

Maddie leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the kitchen island. “Oh honey…he knows.”

Sonic squinted. “You’re saying that like you know something I don’t.”

“Well…” Maddie hesitated, swirling her coffee slowly, as if deciding whether or not to drop a bomb. “I have a hunch. A very strong one.”

Sonic tilted his head. “Why do I feel like you’re about to say something insane?”

“Because when we were replanting those flowers yesterday? I saw him.”

Sonic’s jaw dropped. “ Saw him?”

Maddie nodded calmly. “Up in the trees. Watching us.”

“ WHAT? ”

“He didn’t stay long,” she continued, still shockingly composed. “Teleported away the second I looked up and made eye contact.”

Sonic’s ears shot up. “You— you didn’t tell me?! ”

“I’ll be honest,” Maddie said with a shrug, “at the time I thought I was hallucinating. It was hot. I hadn’t had my iced tea. Could’ve been a weird leaf.”

“Maddie!”

“But now?” She smiled, eyes sparkling. “Now I know I wasn’t.”

Sonic pushed his hands through his quills. “Oh my Chaos , he’s been watching us?! That’s so—! I don’t even know what that is! ”

“It’s called keeping an eye on the people you care about,” Maddie said gently. “Even if you don’t know how to say it yet.”

Sonic buried his face in his hands. “Great. Shadow’s been lurking in trees like some kind of cryptid and I didn’t even notice.”

“Hey, don’t take it personally. He probably thought he was being subtle.”

“That’s worse! ”

Maddie chuckled into her mug. “Just take it for what it is. He’s trying, Sonic. In the only way he knows how.”

“…Tree-stalking?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Sonic let out a dramatic groan and stabbed at a piece of pineapple in his fruit bowl like it had personally offended him. “Great. Just wonderful. Shadow’s apparently stalking us, sleeping in my bed, and yet he won’t even talk to me when he’s awake!”

Maddie sipped her coffee, completely unfazed by his spiral. “Give him time, honey. He’s trying. Even if it’s weird.”

Sonic slumped forward onto the counter, cheek smushed against the cool surface. “Ugh…fine,” he muttered, voice muffled by laminate. “Thank you for telling me though.”

“Of course. You know you can always talk to me.”

Before Sonic could reply, the back door burst open with a loud clatter. Tails stumbled in backward, arms overloaded with salvaged electronics, gears, wires, and what looked like half of an old satellite dish.

“Uh—! A little help here!” Tails shouted, knees wobbling.

Sonic jumped to his feet. “I got it, buddy!” He jogged over and helped steady the pile before it toppled. As he did, he leaned slightly toward Maddie and whispered out the side of his mouth, “Remember—don’t tell anyone.”

She gave him a playful wink and zipped her lips shut with her fingers. “Mum’s the word.”

Sonic turned back to Tails, whose arms were now free, looking proud of his junkyard haul.

“You’re gonna build something out of this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you know it,” Tails beamed. “Maybe something that can track teleportation energy!”

Sonic paled. “Nope. Not necessary. Sounds expensive. Or invasive. Or—hey, want fruit?”

Tails blinked. “Uh…sure?”

Sonic shoved the bowl into Tails’ hands and gave Maddie a look that screamed don’t say a word. Maddie simply smiled behind her mug.

He had a feeling things were only going to get more complicated.

—

Time dragged on that day like molasses in winter.

Sonic had tried sticking to the plan he’d made the night before—keep busy, act normal, forget the whole “Shadow sleep-cuddled me on the roof and whispered he needed me” incident—but it was easier said than done. Especially now, knowing he could be lurking around, just…watching.

He helped Knuckles train in the yard. Spent a few hours assisting Tails with one of his new jet prototypes. Even managed to wolf down a couple chili dogs in record time. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the image from his mind—Shadow, standing on the roof with that faraway gaze, then silently curling around him like Sonic was the one safe place left in the world.

It hadn’t been a dream.

It was real.

And that realization had settled into his chest like a spark caught in dry grass, growing every time he let his thoughts wander.

Only two people knew about it: him and Maddie. And Sonic had no idea what Shadow actually thought about any of it. If he even remembered it at all.

But if what Sonic saw was genuine—if that warmth, that desperate grip, those whispered words meant anything—then Shadow had been seeking comfort.

And somehow, out of all people, Sonic had been the one to provide it.

He didn’t know how or why. Maybe it was some leftover instinct from that moment on the moon, when everything almost ended and they reached each other instead. Maybe Shadow just gravitated toward people who didn’t give up on him.

But whatever it was, Sonic felt...honored. A little confused, sure. Nervous, even. But mostly?

Weirdly touched.

Because if a guy like Shadow—closed-off, no-nonsense, practically allergic to affection—found even a sliver of peace in his presence?

That was one hell of a compliment.

Still, as nice as it had been to hear those whispered words— “need you” —Sonic would’ve really preferred to hear something like that from the awake version of Shadow. The conscious one. The one who could actually hold a conversation and explain what in the world was going on.

So, he’d made it his unofficial mission to find him. Over the past few days, Sonic had scanned every familiar path, every rooftop, even zipped through every corner of Green Hills at least twice. Just something . A flicker of red. A streak of black. Anything to tell him Shadow hadn’t disappeared into the ether.

But every time he came home, it was the same story: nothing.

No Shadow.

It was like the guy had vanished—or worse, was actively avoiding him.

Sonic figured that was probably for the best. If Shadow was hiding, maybe that was his way of coping. Maybe being seen like that—vulnerable—was something he couldn’t face in the daylight. Sonic could understand that.

Still…it stung.

He knew he should listen to Maddie, let Shadow come to him, but he couldn’t help it.

He flopped onto his bed for what felt like the hundredth time that week, trying to convince himself to let it go.

But then it hit him.

Hiding.

Shadow was hiding.

And if he really didn’t want to be found, he’d go somewhere no one would think to look.

Except Sonic did think of one place.

His old cave.

The one he lived in before he’d ever stepped foot in the Wachowskis’ home. Secluded, shielded by trees, hidden beneath a thick patch of underbrush. A place even the nosiest of Green Hills townsfolk didn’t know existed.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Sonic shot up and bolted, the wind howling in his ears as he zig-zagged through the woods, heart thumping with anticipation. The ground blurred beneath him until, at last, he came to that familiar clearing—the soft grass, the tall trees, and that tiny, half-covered entrance carved into the earth.

His cave.

He slowed to a halt, eyes narrowed, quills twitching slightly. The hole was still there, just as he'd left it.

He swallowed hard.

If Shadow's down there...he's either gonna bolt or blow my head off.

Sonic took a breath, steeling himself.

“Okay. Here goes nothing…”

He ducked down and slipped through the entrance, hopping lightly into the cool, shadowed depths of the cave—bracing himself for anything.

As soon as Sonic’s shoes hit the cave floor, he whipped his head around, scanning every shadowy crevice.

Nothing.

Just silence.

The air felt still—too still. No signs of footprints, no shift in the earthy scent of moss and stone. No faint glimmer of red or the ripple of Chaos Energy. It was like Shadow had never been there to begin with.

Sonic’s shoulders dropped, and he let out a long breath, half defeat, half frustration. His eyes wandered across the cave walls, where old memories still clung like dust.

His gaze landed on a tangle of vines near the back. He walked over and gently pulled them aside, revealing the faded drawing he'd made as a kid—himself and Longclaw, smiling in crayon on the wall. The lines were smudged and cracked from time, but the emotion was still there.

“Hey…if you can hear my thoughts somehow…” he murmured, voice barely audible, “please, Chaos help me, Longclaw. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The cave had once felt so full of life—his little haven, his fortress, his home. Now, it felt hollow. Like the world had moved on without him, and it was waiting for him to do the same.

Disappointment weighed heavy in his chest as he backed away from the wall, taking one last glance around. No Shadow. No clues. Just silence.

Sonic let out another sigh, defeated.

Then, without another word, he leapt up and shot out of the cave entrance, into the fading daylight.

As he sped through the trees, weaving between branches and letting the breeze rush over him, something prickled in the back of his mind.

A faint sound—like a distant flicker. Like Chaos Energy crackling somewhere behind the trees.

He paused mid-run, glancing over his shoulder.

…But there was nothing. Just the rustling leaves and the fading sun casting long shadows across the forest floor.

“…Could’ve been anything,” he muttered, shaking his head.

—

Night had fallen again, draping the backyard in a cool hush of twilight. Stars glimmered faintly above like scattered shards of glass, and the moon cast a soft glow across the grass. Sonic sat sprawled on an old blanket, his quills gently rustling in the evening breeze.

He hadn't even realized how much time had passed. One minute, he was just stepping outside to get some air—now, hours later, he was still here, gazing up at the stars like they had the answers he couldn’t find.

Beside him, Ozzy let out a happy huff, the dog completely stretched out and snuggled into the fabric, his tail occasionally twitching as if chasing something in a dream. Sonic smiled faintly and reached over, scratching behind his ears. Ozzy leaned into the touch, sighing contentedly—no worries, no chaos, just simple happiness.

“Bet you’re dreaming about bacon,” Sonic whispered. “Or belly rubs. Or both.”

Earlier, Tails and Knuckles had been out there too, lounging in the grass, pointing out constellations, and playfully arguing about which one looked more like a battle axe or a wrench. But eventually, yawns overtook words, and they’d retreated inside for the night, leaving Sonic alone with his thoughts and his canine companion.

His sleep schedule was a mess. He knew it. He felt it in the heaviness under his eyes and the way tomorrow already promised to feel like dragging a log uphill. But he couldn’t bring himself to go inside—not yet.

Because those thoughts were back again. The same ones that crept in every time the world quieted. Thoughts of him.

Those ruby eyes. And not just from the memory of their last standoff, but from something else—something new. The way they softened in the dark. The way they looked at him, even in sleep.

Sonic stared up at the sky, searching for something—anything—that could answer the question looping endlessly in his heart.

He wished he could see them again.

Not half-lidded in a trance. Not muttering cryptic words in his sleep. 

Awake.

He let out a quiet breath and whispered, “Where are you, Shadow?”

The stars had no answer. Only silence and the rhythmic breathing of a dreaming dog.

Until the universe decided to answer.

Because one moment, Sonic was staring up at the stars, and the next—

Shadow was standing right in front of him.

Sonic’s heart practically leapt out of his chest. “AA—aaa…!” The start of a scream clawed up his throat, but he slapped a hand over his mouth just in time, his eyes darting to Ozzy. The dog twitched once, still blissfully asleep, chasing dream-squirrels or whatever it was dogs chased in their sleep.

Crisis barely averted.

Sonic turned his gaze slowly back to the figure before him, and yep—there he was. Shadow the Hedgehog. In all his red-streaked, dark-eyed, way-too-quiet glory. Just…standing there. Perfectly still.

Sonic blinked hard, wondering if maybe he’d finally gone full crazy. But no, this wasn’t a mirage. Shadow was right there, barely a foot away, his red eyes faintly glowing in the dim moonlight.

For a second, they just stared at each other. The cool night air hung between them like a held breath.

“Shadow…” Sonic said softly, trying not to startle him, “Are you…awake?”

No response. No twitch. No change in expression. Nothing.

Sonic squinted at him, leaning slightly to the side like a curious cat. “Nope. Definitely not awake.”

Figures.

Sonic stood up slowly, brushing blades of grass from his fur and careful not to disturb Ozzy, who let out a soft snore and rolled onto his back. The dog was out cold.

He turned to face the sleepwalking hedgehog in front of him—an all too familiar sight now. Shadow, motionless but somehow still drifting toward him, like gravity itself was pulling him in.

“Shadow,” Sonic began, keeping his voice low and steady, “I said one night. Just one. You need to find…somewhere else to stay. You can’t keep showing up here like this.”

No reply. Not even a blink.

Instead, Shadow tilted forward again, arms starting to lift like clockwork, ready to wrap Sonic in another wordless embrace.

Sonic held out a hand and pressed it gently against Shadow’s chest, firm but not forceful. He could feel the steady heartbeat beneath his palm—strong, warm, real.

But this wasn’t okay. Not anymore.

“No, Shadow,” Sonic whispered, more to himself than anything. “No hugs tonight. You need to go. This…this isn’t helping either of us.”

Still, no reaction. Just those half-lidded eyes and the quiet hum of Chaos Energy hanging faintly in the air.

“We can talk,” Sonic added, his voice softer now, tinged with something that almost sounded like longing. “But only when you’re awake.”

Shadow’s arms fell slowly back to his sides, as if they had no more instructions. He stood there like a statue caught in a dream, and for a second, Sonic felt like the only person left in the waking world.

He stepped back, giving Shadow space, his chest tight with questions he couldn’t ask and answers he knew wouldn’t come—not yet.

Then Shadow took another step forward.

The blanket beneath him shifted, crumpling under his shoes with a soft but unmistakable rustle.

Sonic's eyes widened. “No, no, no—”

Ozzy's ears twitched at the sound. His head popped up groggily, eyes half-lidded but alert. He let out a low, confused whine.

Oh no.

Sonic froze, holding his breath, every muscle tense. If Ozzy barked—even once—the whole house would be up in arms. And trying to explain why the Ultimate Lifeform was standing silently in their backyard at one in the morning? Not a conversation he was ready for.

He glanced between Shadow and Ozzy like he was defusing a bomb.

Shadow was still moving, arms lifting again, slow and robotic, his gaze distant but locked on Sonic like he was some kind of anchor.

Sonic mouthed silently to Ozzy, “Nope. Lay back down. Be cool.”

Ozzy tilted his head, gave a low, confused huff…but thankfully, dropped his head back onto the blanket.

Sonic exhaled the breath he’d been holding—quietly—and reached out with both hands, gently pressing against Shadow’s chest again.

“Seriously, man,” he whispered, heart thudding. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

Sonic felt the damp, curious nudge of a nose against his leg.

He didn’t even have to look. “Not now, Ozzy,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

But then—“Ozzy?! No—no, buddy, please, go back to sleep!” he hissed in a panicked whisper, trying to nudge the dog away with his elbow. “This is not the time for your investigative nose!”

Of course, Ozzy didn’t listen. With his tail beginning to wag slowly, he trotted right up to Shadow, ears perked, nose twitching.

“Oh Chaos,” Sonic groaned.

Ozzy gave a hearty sniff at Shadow’s gloved hand…then moved to his leg…and then to his chest, like a customs officer inspecting suspicious cargo.

Sonic lunged, trying to gently steer the dog back, but Ozzy was committed—tail wagging harder, his curiosity piqued by this new mysterious midnight guest.

Shadow didn’t even blink, which somehow made it worse.

“Ozzy, I swear,” Sonic muttered under his breath, “if you bark, we’re both dead.”

Ozzy growled low in his throat. Sonic couldn't tell if it was directed at Shadow or just frustration over being nudged away. But then—

He barked. Loud.

“No—Ozzy, no!” Sonic hissed, eyes wide with horror. The bark echoed far louder than he would’ve liked. His heart stopped as he whipped his head toward the house.

Too late.

The porch light flicked on with a soft mechanical click , spilling a cone of light across the lawn.

“I’m doomed,” Sonic breathed, panic crawling up his spine.

His mind scrambled for a plan, a lie, a miracle—anything. But every scenario ended with the same thing: Shadow being seen.

So Sonic did the only thing his instinct screamed at him to do.

He grabbed Shadow’s wrist—gently, so gently it was almost reverent—and bolted.

With a gust of wind, he rushed them behind the shed, narrowly avoiding Ozzy’s wagging tail as the dog turned toward the now opening back door.

Shadow stumbled after him in a daze, completely limp, and Sonic had no choice but to press him against the wall, using his arms to cage him there, holding him still.

“Please, please don’t wake up now,” Sonic whispered, barely breathing. His chest rose and fell with quick, silent gasps as he heard footsteps creak across the porch.

Tom.

“Ozzy?” Tom called into the yard, voice groggy with sleep. “Why are you out here alone?”

There was a pause. “Who left a blanket out here? Weird…C’mon, boy. Let’s get you back inside.”

Sonic didn’t dare peek out. He only heard the soft jingle of Ozzy’s collar and the shuffle of steps as they moved back toward the door. Then—

Click.

The porch light blinked off. The door shut.

Silence.

Sonic let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, letting his head fall back against the shed with a soft thunk .

“Okay… crisis averted…” he murmured—until he glanced down.

Shadow’s ruby eyes were open.

Locked on him.

Calm. Unblinking. Mysterious.

Sonic froze again.

“…Uh,” he muttered, voice dry, “Hi.”

Shadow’s gaze still looked distant—like he was seeing something far beyond the present moment—but at the same time, it felt too close , like his eyes were peeling Sonic apart, layer by layer. It made Sonic’s heart do this annoying little flutter that he absolutely did not approve of.

And before he could even process what was happening, those arms moved.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, Shadow stepped forward with quiet certainty and wrapped his arms around Sonic again—not hurried, not hesitant. Just inevitable.

Sonic stiffened. “Oh, come on,” he whispered through clenched teeth, body tensing as he was pulled flush against Shadow’s chest. “Seriously? Right now?”

But the Ultimate Lifeform just stood there, holding him close, cheek brushing against the top of Sonic’s shoulder like they’d done this a hundred times before.

And even though Sonic’s brain was screaming, push him off, this is not okay, you are not his pillow, his body…didn’t move.

Because this—whatever this was—felt warm. Familiar.

Safe.

“...safe…” Shadow mumbled.

Sonic sighed, rubbing Shadow’s back. “Yes…safe.”

“…safe…” Shadow mumbled, his voice barely audible, like a breeze slipping through the night.

Sonic’s breath hitched at the word. It was soft, almost vulnerable—the kind of tone he never thought he’d hear from him . He looked down, watching Shadow’s face resting against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded but unfocused, lost somewhere between dreaming and reality.

Sonic let out a long, quiet sigh, his resistance crumbling. He slowly moved his hand, rubbing slow circles against Shadow’s back—more out of instinct than thought. The tension in Shadow’s posture melted just a little, his grip loosening, like Sonic’s voice had reassured something deep in his unconscious.

Sonic rested his cheek on Shadow’s head with a quiet, tired exhale. “Safe with me. For now.”

Sonic sighed, gently adjusting the arms still loosely wrapped around him.

“Okay, ground rules,” he murmured, trying to sound firm even though his voice was barely louder than a whisper. “If you’re staying here tonight, you’ve gotta stay in the guest room. By yourself. Okay?”

He waited, like Shadow might somehow register that logic in his sleep.

But then, like something out of a twisted lullaby, Shadow’s brows twitched slightly, and he mumbled, “…mine…”

Sonic froze.

“…Excuse me?” he whispered, blinking rapidly, a nervous laugh almost escaping his throat. “Mine? What do you mean, mine ?” His heart stuttered in his chest, a mix of panic and something else—something warmer—spiking through him.

Shadow didn’t move. His grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either. The word lingered in the air like a secret he hadn’t meant to tell.

Sonic swallowed hard. “You don’t even know what you’re saying, man. You’re sleep-talking. That’s all this is. Sleep. Talking.”

Still… mine.

Sonic shook his head and tried again to gently pull away, muttering under his breath, “Seriously, you better not say that while you're awake, or I’ll never hear the end of it from Tails.”

But Shadow didn’t stir. Didn’t wake. Just breathed slow and steady against him.

Sonic sighed, resting his forehead against Shadow’s shoulder for a second, trying to collect himself. “Why do I even bother?” he whispered to the night.

Then, more quietly: “…Mine, huh?”

No! Sonic scolded himself fiercely. This—this was totally unacceptable. He couldn’t just stand there like a deer caught in headlights, especially not with Shadow in tow. He needed to think, move, act—anything but freeze.

Pushing those nagging thoughts aside, Sonic peeked cautiously around the corner of the shed, scanning the yard. No sign of anyone. The coast was clear.

He took a deep breath and gently tugged Shadow along, leading him toward the back porch. His hand reached for the door handle...and froze. Locked.

Of course. Tom had actually remembered to lock the door. Sonic couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

“Shadow,” he said quietly, “the door’s locked. We’re locked out.”

For a moment, there was silence—then, as if Shadow had finally understood, the scene shifted.

One blink later, they were suddenly inside the guest room.

Sonic blinked, momentarily stunned.

“Woah!” he breathed, half-amazed, half-relieved.

Shadow was there, standing as if nothing unusual had happened, face calm but eyes still distant.

Sonic shook his head with a grin. “Okay, that was…unexpected. But hey, I’ll take it.”

Sonic gently guided Shadow to the bed, repeating the same careful routine he’d followed the night before. But tonight, something was different—something in Shadow’s expression caught his eye. It wasn’t the usual stoic calm; no, this time, Shadow looked…sad.

Sonic’s voice softened. “You okay, buddy?”

Then, to Sonic’s surprise, warm tears began to slip down Shadow’s cheeks, even as he slept.

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Sonic whispered hurriedly, heart pounding. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Oh man. He was definitely going to have to stay with him. Wasn’t he?

“Alright, fine,” Sonic muttered, slipping off his shoes. “I’ll stay. Just…please don’t cry.”

He climbed carefully into bed beside Shadow, debating whether to keep a safe distance or stay close enough to offer real comfort. Before he could decide, Shadow made that choice for him.

Without warning, Shadow crawled over and collapsed onto Sonic, melting into his arms like a weight he didn’t know he could bear.

“Whoa, Shadow, maybe not—”

This was the closest they’d ever been.

Sonic let out a slow sigh, feeling the strange mix of warmth and tension.

Maybe this was fine.

Yeah, Shadow could definitely kill him in the morning—but for now, this was where he needed to be.

—

Sonic woke up first that morning, the soft glow of sunlight filtering gently through the window, coaxing him from sleep like a quiet whisper. He blinked slowly, still half-lost in the fog of dreams, only to become acutely aware that Shadow was still there—curled up on top of him, completely still. No sudden movements, no teleporting away like he’d done the past nights, and definitely no sign of waking up just yet.

Without really thinking, Sonic’s hand moved on its own, sliding through Shadow’s dark quills. The texture was rougher than his own, yet somehow comforting, and the simple, domestic motion of running his fingers through Shadow’s hair felt surprisingly natural. He couldn’t stop himself—it was soothing, grounding.

Then, almost imperceptibly, Shadow’s eyelids fluttered. Slowly, deliberately, they peeled open.

Sonic’s heart skipped a beat.

Oh no, don’t wake up yet! he thought desperately, frozen in place.

But then, those piercing red eyes locked onto his, sharp and alert.

Shadow was awake .