Chapter Text
The first thing I notice when I wake up is that I have a monster of a headache.
It feels like someone is bonking my head repeatedly with my Piko Piko Hammer. Bonk. Bonk. Bonk.
In fact, that’s not the only thing wrong. I feel really nauseous. My mouth is drier than Dusty Desert in the summer. And the strangest thing of all is that I’m not in my own bed, or even in my own room. How comes I’m not in my own room?
I squeeze my eyes shut – even light feels unpleasant right now – and try to remember what in the world happened last night.
It comes to me in bits and pieces. How Rouge got engaged to Knuckles. How Rouge said she wanted to go on vacation to Casino Park for her bachelorette party. How Rouge insisted that all of us – not just me and Rouge but Sonic and Tails and Knuckles and Shadow – go on a big night out in the casino.
I can remember the events leading up to last night well enough. I just can’t remember last night.
The last thing I recall is Rouge handing me a cocktail called the Angel Island Iced Tea. And then… Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Holy Chaos. Did I get blackout drunk?
I open my eyes again – and nearly jump out of my skin when I see that I’m not alone.
There, in the hotel room with me, is none other than Shadow the Hedgehog.
He’s making a coffee with his back turned to me, but I can tell it’s him by his unmistakeable black-and-red fur. Yet before I can close my eyes and pretend I’m asleep while I piece together what on earth happened last night, Shadow turns around. His ruby-red eyes meet my own.
“Good morning,” he says stiffly.
“Um,” I respond awkwardly. “Morning, Shadow.”
He hands me the cup of coffee and I take a sip. Holy Chaos, that’s good. I can feel my headache dissipating already.
Still, I have other problems. Like, why the hell have I just woken up in a hotel room with Shadow?
“How did you sleep?”
“I slept well, thank you,” I say. “I think.” I actually have no idea if I slept well or not. I can’t remember anything.
I sip my coffee as an excuse to avoid talking. I need to figure out what the heck happened last night.
OK, so it’s clear that I had one too many cocktails, got blackout drunk, and am now saddled with a serious hangover. That much is obvious. The question that’s now on my mind is how I ended up waking up in a hotel room with Shadow.
There is one explanation…
But I refuse to entertain that. There’s no way. For one, I’m madly in love with Sonic. I’ll admit that Shadow is smoking hot. Like, there’s no denying that. But the only reason Shadow is hot is because he looks like Sonic. Their resemblance to one another is well-documented.
Besides, there’s no way someone like Shadow would have a one-night stand. He’s too… honourable. He was created in the fifties and it shows. He wouldn’t have sex with someone unless he was married to them first.
He probably just wanted to take care of me because I was so drunk, I thought to myself. Yes, that’ll be it. I was really drunk and stumbling around and projectile vomiting everywhere, and Shadow didn’t want me to fall down a flight of steps and break my neck and die, so he escorted me safely back to the room and put me to bed and stayed with me overnight to make sure that I didn’t choke on vomit in my sleep. And he was really gentlemanly and there was absolutely no funny business involved whatsoever.
But. Still. Better to make sure.
You know. Just in case.
“Um, Shadow…” I begin quietly. “Just to confirm, we didn’t… you know…” – I shoot him a significant look – “did we?”
He stares at me blankly. “Didn’t do what?”
Chaos. Did he really need me to spell it out?
“You know. Rolling in the hay. Doing the devil’s dance. Making love.”
“I don’t know what that means,” he says flatly.
Chaos. He was created in the fifties and it shows.
“Shadow,” I hiss – as if keeping my voice to a whisper would somehow make it less real – “did we have sex last night?”
“No,” Shadow responds – and I feel relieved for approximately 0.5 seconds until he adds, “Although sexual intercourse is traditional for a married couple on their wedding night, you fell asleep before any relations could take place.”
What?
What?
Married couple?
Wedding night?
What in the everlasting hell is Shadow talking about?
“Shadow,” I say as sweetly as I can muster, “what in the everlasting hell are you talking about?”
Shadow frowns at me. He looks confused. “I’m referring to the fact that we got married last night.”
My nausea intensifies. It feels like the floor is disappearing underneath me, and I don’t know if it’s because of my hangover or what Shadow had just told me.
“Shadow,” I laugh – I have to laugh, because if I don’t I’ll cry – “don’t be ridiculous. We didn’t get married last night. We can’t have gotten married last night.”
“We did,” he says matter-of-factly. “Here, in Casino Park. It’s famously a popular destination for weddings.”
I draw a hand to my mouth. No.
“Rose?” Shadow says quietly. “You said all you wanted was to do was marry and have children, and you were tired of waiting for Sonic to make his mind up.” I can see confusion in his eyes – and hurt. “You said you liked me.”
“Shadow, I…” I bite back the bile I can feel rising in my throat. “Shadow, I’m sorry, but you’ve gotten the wrong end of the stick. I mean, I do want to get married and have children, and I am tired of waiting for Sonic to make his mind up, but…” I lift my gaze to meet his. “I can’t remember what happened. I must have been drunk, or…”
“Drunk?” Shadow tilts his head, his brow furrowed. As if he doesn’t know what I mean.
“I don’t know. But what I do know is…” I swallow. “Shadow, I think you’re really nice, and of course I like you, but I’m not… I don’t…”
I don’t like you in that way. The unspoken words hover in the air, cruel and unretractable, like thorns.
Shadow takes a step backwards, as if I’ve physically slapped him. The look of pain that crosses his face makes me feel awful.
Then something changes. His eyes harden. His jaw stiffens. His fist tightens around the handle of the mug he’s holding and he turns his back to me. I can see the quills of his back prickling – the telltale sign of a hedgehog in distress.
“Well, it’s done now.” His voice is cold. “Whether you like it or not, I am your husband, and you are my wife.”
I ignore the wave of nausea that washes over me, even stronger than before. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that coffee. I don’t think I’m capable of keeping anything down right now.
“I am not your wife.” I was becoming angry now. “I am very much single. In fact, being single is pretty much my defining trait at this point. Everyone knows how much I’m in love with Sonic and how tragically uninterested he is in me. And – oh my god – Rouge put you up to this, didn’t she? That’s it. This is all some kind of big practical joke, isn’t it? She thought it would be totally hilarious if you pretended we got married last night. There’s probably a secret camera in here playing a livestream of my every reaction. Well, here’s the crash-out you wanted, Rouge! I hope you’re laughing your ass off right now. You might find it funny but I don’t. I bet any moment now she’s going to walk in and tell me that…”
“Look at your left hand,” Shadow cuts in bluntly.
My rant interrupted, I do as Shadow says.
There, on my ring finger, is a big, fat, gold band.
Then the memories come crashing back like a tidal wave.
Me drunkenly crying into my cocktail, asking why I can’t find seem to find a big strong hedgehog to take care of me while Shadow pats my back awkwardly.
Me running my fingers flirtatiously through Shadow’s white chest fur while slurring, ‘You know, you’re pretty cute…’
Me standing at the altar with Shadow’s hands in mine, tilting my head up to meet his lips as the registrar says, ‘You may now kiss the bride…’
The sick feeling in my stomach becomes too much to bear.
“Shadow," I protest desperately, "we can’t be married - I’m only – you’re only – blegh!”
I keel over and vomit on the hotel room carpet.
“I’ll fetch you a bucket,” my husband growls.
I find it oddly romantic.
I stumble out of the hotel room, my body lurching into the wall as I fight back yet another wave of nausea. I need to find a housekeeper so I can inform them of the mess I’ve just made in the hotel room. Actually, I need to find a bathroom first. It would be good if I could get my barf into the toilet this time.
Each landmark I pass seems to bring back unwelcome memories. Dancing on tables. Singing karaoke to Hot Honey. Telling Tails over margheritas that I was so proud of the man he’d become.
I find Rouge getting breakfast in the hotel restaurant and immediately make a beeline for her. Rouge is a woman with her life together. Rouge will know what to do. Somehow she looks fresh-faced and beautiful and not at all like someone who was slamming vodka martinis on repeat until the early hours of the morning. She looks someone who did their skincare routine, listened to a podcast and went to bed at 9:00 pm.
“Rouge,” I hiss as soon as she comes within earshot. “You have to help me. The wildest thing happened last night. Apparently I…”
The graceful white bat slowly turns to look at me, her eyebrow raised, and my heart sinks. She looks seriously unimpressed.
“Well, well, well,” she drawls, swishing the mimosa she’s holding in her glass, “if it isn’t the drunken newlywed, crawling out of bed to no doubt seek my help. Thanks for upstaging me at my own bachelorette party. What next? Are you going to announce your pregnancy on my wedding day?”
“Well, that’s just the thing,” I say urgently. “I just woke up in Shadow’s hotel room. He says we’re married!”
“Yes,” she says drily. “Congratulations. 365 days in a year, yet you chose to do it on the day we’re supposed to be celebrating my wedding.”
“No, you don’t understand – I didn’t mean to marry Shadow – I can’t be married to him. I –”
“Mimosa?” says one of the hotel staff – a little robot holding a tray of drinks.
I get a whiff of the alcohol and try not to barf. “No thanks,” I choke out. The robot moves on, and I turn back to Rouge. “As I was saying,” I carry on, “it was a mistake. I was drunk, okay? You know I would never be interested in Shadow. Like, hello? My whole thing is that I’m interested in Sonic!”
“I certainly hope you didn’t tell that to him this morning,” Rouge says with an edge to her voice.
“Um,” I say. “Well.”
“Ouch,” Rouge says. “Fantastic. That’ll be another man that I have to spend all day cheering up. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate after what happened to Knuckles.”
“Wait,” I say, tilting my head to the side. “What happened to Knuckles?”
I suddenly have a flashback of Knuckles sitting at the poker table, his head in his ginormous hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I lost it!” he was wailing. “I lost it!”
“Knuckles gambled away the Master Emerald,” Rouge says curtly. “The Master Emerald! It was half the reason I even decided to marry that numbskull, and now it’s gone. Please excuse me if I’m not particularly interested in your marital drama right now.”
“God – um…” I put a hand awkwardly on the back of my neck. “Sorry, Rouge. That’s awful. Poor Knuckles must be devastated.”
“Poor Knuckles?” Rouge cries. “What about poor me? I was this close to finally getting the Master Emerald and that idiot lost it in a game of cards! It’s probably in the hands of some bimbo who’s going to crush it up into shards and turn it into mediocre jewellery on her Etsy store. Now I have to spend the rest of my vacation tracking it down and stealing it back. And it’s supposed to be my bachelorette.”
I stand there awkwardly, not really sure what to say. I’m relieved when another robot mopping the floor passes by us.
“Excuse me!” I say brightly. “I just wanted to let you know that I vomited on the carpet in Room 13.”
The robot lifts its head and fixes me with a hard stare. Like, as far as a robot is capable of fixing someone with a hard stare.
“Not on purpose,” I add quickly. “I missed the bathroom. I was, um, unwell. Think I ate a bad oyster.”
“There’s a 3000 ring surcharge for room damage,” the robot says coldly.
My heart sinks. 3000 rings? I don’t have that kind of money! Besides, what kind of carpet cleaning costs 3000 rings? Whatever happened to a good old scrub with white vinegar and warm water?
To my surprise, Rouge flaps her hand nonchalantly at the janitor. “Yeah, whatever,” she drawls. “She’ll pay it out of her winnings.”
I snap my head sharply towards Rouge. “Winnings? What winnings?”
That’s when I notice the entourage of staff heading my way. Their arms are loaded with bags upon bags that jingle as they move. I see two large robots carrying a chest with obvious effort; they set it down at my feet with a thud. Half curiously, half tentatively, I open the chest a crack and take a peek.
Inside is thousands upon thousands of rings. Heaps of rings. More rings than I’ve ever seen before in my life. And they’re still coming.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Rouge fixes me with a wry smile. “You won the Casino Park jackpot. You’re a millionaire.”