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Shadow is tired. No, tired is an understatement. Shadow is exhausted, deep down in his bones and heart. GUN missions usually don't drain him like this; he feels as if he can collapse into a heap on the floor and sleep for an entire week. Hell, that wouldn't even be enough. He needs to go into hibernation or something. But he doubts that it would be peaceful. Nightmares plague him every time he falls asleep, visions of sterile halls and inhumane experiments. Blood splattered on floors and blue dresses. Truly, Shadow can't remember the last time he's rested peacefully. Right now, though, he's not the only one suffering.
Team Dark are dead on its feet. Rouge's undereyes are practically black with the lack of sleep, her wings drooping behind her tiredly. Omega can't really get tired, but he definately needs some repairs— he's missing an entire hand for Chaos' sake. And Shadow, though he refuses to show it, might literally pass out if they don't finish this mission review in the next ten minutes. But all these GUN officials are concerned about is their precious information.
"And, you're positive that you got all the information before destroying the base?" One of the men asks again. Shadow catches himself before he instinctively rolls his eyes. He's sure to be called out for that.
"Yes. Again, all the information is on the flashdrive, the one we've looked through twice now." Shadow says blandly. Perhaps too blandly, as the man shoots him a sharp and angry glare,
"Watch your tone, Agent," the man sneers. Ah, he's been called out anyway. Shadow sighs, fighting the urge to either teleport away and let Rouge deal with this, or punch this man so hard into the future he meets Silver. Commander Tower seems equally fed up, his bored expression a careful facade to hide his frustration as these damn officials ask the same questions over and over again. He gently slams his hands on the desk, clearing his throat,
"I believe Agent Shadow and Agent Rouge have given you all the information you've asked for. Why don't we let them rest and recover from their mission?" Tower prompts, a strained, polite smile on his face. The officials hum, contemplating, but the Commander takes pity on Team Dark, and he speaks without waiting for an answer,
"Agents Rouge, Shadow, and Omega, you are dismissed. Thank you for your time, and good job on a successful mission," He states firmly, giving them a knowing (and, if Shadow's reading that right, a mischievous) look. Rouge smiles at that, and she throws out some polite goodbye as she drags the boys to the door. Shadow feels the judging glares of the officials burn into his back as he lets himself be dragged away. As soon as the door closes behind them, Rouge groans,
"They asked the same thing like eight times! I was damn near ready to walk out on them," she complains, sighing and turning to Omega,
"Come on, 'Megs, let's get you a new hand," She starts to walk, but Shadow stops her,
"Go home, Rouge. I'll go with Omega. You haven't slept in days," He instructs. Rouge eyes him, and then she smirks slyly,
"I didn't know you cared, handsome! How sweet!" She teases, voice like honey. Shadow rolls his eyes, accustomed to her nonsense, but he can't deny her words. Unlike him, she still needs some sleep to survive. Though Shadow is practically falling asleep standing up, he can push through it. He's the Ultimate Lifeform; he doesn't technically need sleep. Sure, it definately helps, and it feels good (bar the nightmares), but he can't in good conscience let his friend stay awake any longer. She seems to have the same idea, though,
"What about you, hun?" She asks, squinting accusingly at him. He shrugs,
"I'm the Ultimate-" she cuts him off,
"Lifeform, blah blah blah, I know. Fine. I'm going home, but make sure to get some rest, too, Shadow," She declares, spinning on her heels and strutting down the hallway, disappearing around a corner. Omega turns to look at him, probably shooting him some look he cannot discern, for Omega is a robot with no facial expressions, and then starts walking to the repair centre. Shadow dutifully follows. He doesn't have to; Omega is more than capable of being on his own and making his way home when he's done, but Shadow wants to confirm that nothing more is damaged in the robot. He might be soft for the silly robot, but no one else has to know that. (Everyone already knows, but he ignores that little fact.)
They're silent on the walk, a blessing after listening to their higher-ups' loud, stuck-up, accusatory voices. Just the clanking of metal against the floor, and the occasional nod or wave from passing employees. It's late into the night, past midnight and well into the early morning hours. Though Shadow hates being in GUN's headquarters in general, the peace of working nights is something he cherishes. The only people staying this late are the tired ones, ones with nothing and no one to get home to; it makes the perfect environment for everyone to zone out and get their work done without the bustle that daylight brings. No one asks invasive questions about others' home lives, or spouses, or weekend plans. There's just a quiet understanding in the air— anyone willingly here at night has demons they'd rather not speak about.
The door to the repair centre slides open, and instantly, Omega is being ushered in and examined by multiple technicians. It makes sense that they're so on top of Omega's repairs; he's one of the greatest powerhouses that GUN has on their side. Having Omega out of commission makes life exponentially harder for the organisation. Shadow waits awkwardly by the door, knowing his presence causes more harm than good in these situations. He can already sense the nervousness coming from the group after seeing him alongside the robot. He has that effect on everyone, it seems. It's useful most of the time; people leave him alone, no small talk or stupid questions are aimed his way. But deep down, somewhere largely ignored by Shadow, it hurts. It makes him feel like the weapon he was created to be. Something to be feared instead of embraced.
He's been working through those thoughts, slowly but surely. He's been realising that his hands are gentle, not always made for blood and hurt. He can nurture, too. He can care and cradle the people he loves close to him, away from danger. His hands can treat wounds, heal wounds. He's not that same weapon that they crafted him to be. But then people shy away from him, looking at him with those terrified eyes, like he's a bomb set to explode at any given moment, and he forgets all of that progress. He's back on the ARK, with scientists studying him, fear and disgust in their gaze— along with that morbid curiosity he hates so. He's snapped out of his spiral by Omega making a strange, robotic noise, equivalent to a groan.
The head technician, being the one most accustomed to Shadow, addresses him,
"We have to keep him overnight, some of his internal wiring is messed up, and we have to fine-tune his new hand," the man explains, barely glancing in Shadow's direction. Shadow nods, sighing. He was hoping that wasn't the case. Rouge doesn't like it when Omega stays overnight for repairs, she says her apartment feels too lonely. Shadow would offer to spend the night with her, but his own bed in his own little home sounds much, much more appealing than another bout of kindness. Instead, he strides into the room, ignoring the flinches of the younger technicians. He pats Omega on the face, soft and gentle despite his sturdiness.
"I'll let Rouge know. You'll be good by yourself?" He asks, voice gruff and probably angry to the others in the room, but Omega hears it for what it is: care and concern (and, dare he say, love). The robot nods, not bothering to speak. Shadow's lips barely quirk upwards, enough for Omega to notice, and he takes his leave, waving goodbye as he walks out of the room, letting the doors whoosh closed behind him.
He pulls out his phone first, shooting a quick text to Rouge to inform her of Omega's stay. She replies almost instantly, sending a string of incoherent emojis and a "Thanks doll", then she's gone again.
He chaos controls out to the parking lot, not even bothering to try to walk to the exit of the gigantic building. He'd love to teleport home, too, but unfortunately, Dark Rider has been sitting parked and neglected for days, all by herself. That bike is the closest thing he has to a child, and he will not leave her unattended for any longer than needed. She's resilient, though, and with a quick dusting of the seat, Shadow is on the move, his faithful motorcycle taking him home.
The ride to his house is calming. This is the main reason he rides the motorcycle, anyway; the cool air rushing past him, the sound of the bike drowning out anything else, steady and smooth as he rides. It's not like running (or, skating, he guesses), it's more constant. It's less effort, and slower too, allowing him to truly take in the environment around him as he cruises. He doesn't know if he's happy when his house, deep in the forest, surrounded by foliage and trees, comes into view.
Well, deep into the forest is overexaggerating. It's moreso...off the beaten path? He prefers it this way: close enough to others so he can feel like a part of the world, but far enough to maintain his comfort and space. He's quite proud of his little home. He's handcrafted the surrounding area to make it feel less like a random house in the centre of nature, and instead like it belongs there. A little clearing in the trees, just for him. The door creeks open, and he inhales the scent of home. It smells like lavender; he's missed that scent. He's long since gone from smelling clean to stinking of oil and dirt. A shower is first on the agenda, then. He doesn't bother turning on the lights; he can see well enough in the dark. He fumbles over to the bathroom, tripping every other step of the way. Gaia, give him a little more strength.
He haphazardly strips off his gloves and socks, stepping into the shower and turning it all the way to hot. He steps in, and, though he will never admit to this, he lets out a squeak of terror as ice-cold water soaks through his fur. He backpeddles so harshly into the wall that it gives him whiplash. Why, pray tell, is his water heater not working?? It was fine when he left home! Granted, that was a while ago, but still!
The chill of the night clings to him even worse now, but he has to shower. He refuses to remain disgusting until he fixes his heater. So, as hesitantly as possible, he soaks his body in the icy water. It wakes him up a bit, so that's a win, but he's so miserable he can't celebrate. It's probably the shortest shower that Shadow has ever had the misfortune of taking.
He watches days of blood and dirt swirl down the drain, along with at least a dozen sticks and what looks like half of his beautiful quills. He didn't even know he could shed that much still. Thankfully, after a quick peep in the bathroom mirror, he confirms he is not yet balding, despite the insane evidence threatening to clog his drain.
He should clean that out. And fix his water heater. Well, at least that dreadful shower is done. He ruffles his quills with the towel, sapping up the heavy water, and then he plugs in his blow dryer. He turns it on, waiting for the hot air to hit him and help alleviate the chill that's settled deep in him from the shower. Nothing happens. He blinks, checking again. It's plugged in, it's turned on, but nothing's happening.
Chaos— don't tell him— he hastily flicks the light switch in his bathroom. Nothing. No warm light floods the room. Fuck. Maybe it's just the bathroom— please just be the bathroom. He staggers into his living room, hand landing harshly on the switch. Nothing.
He wants to scream. This is a cruel, cruel joke, played on him by nature itself. Okay, okay. Breathe. He has no electricity. That takes priority. Then comes the water heater, then cleaning the shower drain, then sleep. Okay. He's the Ultimate Lifeform. He can do this. No problem!
He can't do this.
Some woodland critter has decided to fuck up his life and gnaw through his electrical wiring. He can fix it, of course, but it takes everything in him not to curl up and cry. He's cold, he's wet, he's tired, everything's dark and dreary, and to make it worse, the rain has started pouring. His quills are even more drenched than when he first started, and at this point, he's completely given up on his comforting, restful night. His mind is back in work mode. Everything is a mission to complete, a task to check off his ever-growing list. It gives him purpose, and it detaches him from this dreadful situation he's found himself in. He feels like he's not really aware; he's just allowing his body to move and work while his mind floats peacefully somewhere else. As peacefully as he can, of course, when everything in his life is deciding to go wrong.
Fixing the wiring is easy enough. Shadow has picked up enough skills to call himself an average electrician. He knows his house and his wiring by heart, anyway. It's just time-consuming. By the time he sees the lights in his living room flash on, the sun is already threatening the horizon. He doesn't have the energy to celebrate the small success, as the early morning wind blows and reminds him of his wet fur and quills. He hurries inside and on to his next task. The damned water heater.
Relying on his learnt knowledge, he lets himself dissociate for the rest of the morning, mindlessly fiddling with the valves and wires on the heater until he deems it fixed. Something was knocked loose, causing the entire thing to stop working. Typical. It didn't take very long, but it was finicky enough to leave him even more frustrated.
Cleaning out his shower drain was the easiest task to finish his long, tiring night. He considers drying his fur now that he has electricity, but the effort it'd take largely outweighs the worth. The rainclouds from earlier have long since blown away, the sun shining in their place. He'll let the warmth of the rays dry him. Though, maybe he should eat something. He hasn't had food since his mission started, too busy with computers and robots and hiding to consider stopping for a snack break.
He wanders into the kitchen, eyes threatening to close, and he rifles through the fridge. Nothing of worth. Ingredients, condiments, bread, all technically things to eat, but nothing ready-made. He considers something simple, like a sandwich, but just thinking of making the meal takes more energy than he has to spare. He grabs a stray apple rolling around one of the fridge drawers, deeming that enough to satiate his hunger (it's not). He plops down at his dining room table, letting the sun shine on him through his window as he gnaws on the apple. It's sour and sandy. Of course it is. Nothing's worse than a sandy apple. Well, Shadow can think of at least five things worse than a sandy apple, notably an ice-cold shower at 2am with no electricity.
Actually, maybe being tortured and experimented on should take first place. Huh, who knew that your day could go so poorly that you forget about your traumatic past for a second? It's not even midday yet, and Shadow's already fed up with this. He lets himself drift off in the morning sun, propped up on the table with his head in his hands. He doesn't quite fall asleep; he's too tired to fall asleep, if that makes sense? He's acutely aware of every movement and sound coming from outside his window. The squirrels running about, the flickies eating on his makeshift birdfeeder. He can hear the distant, distant sound of cars if he focuses hard enough.
His eyes drift closed every now and then, and he thinks maybe this time he'll fall asleep. He thinks that the peaceful, calm morning surrounding him will help, but alas, every time, he's somehow back on that stupid ARK, with white halls and sterile disinfectant surrounding him. It makes him jolt, his eyes flying open with a numb panic. Yeah, he'd much rather take the exhaustion of the real world than those visions.
Just as he feels himself relaxing again, the ARK fading back into the depths of his mind, an alarm sounds from somewhere in the house. Shadow lets out an audible groan, knocking his head on the table. He pulls himself up to find his damned phone, steps wobbly and uneven. Where did he leave it? It has to be in the bathroom, before his night/morning fell apart. Opening the door, he sees a white light shining softly through the dark bathroom. Bingo!
He collects his phone, eyes scanning the alarm as he makes his way back to the chair.
*Alarm! Picnic with your BEST FRIENDS at 1pm! You promised!-Sonic*
He's never hated Sonic more than right now. He facepalms, wishing he could knock himself out with the force of his fist. How could he forget! Sonic made the alarm, making him promise to attend their silly gathering. He wouldn't usually feel guilty about bailing, but he's bailed on the last three because of work. He absolutely cannot miss this one, lest he become the victim of Amy's hammer again. He checks the time; 11AM, yikes. He really did waste away his morning. Too tired to do anything of use, too in his head to relax.
Maybe a walk will make him feel more alive. He slips out of his house, barely remembering to lock the door behind him, and he starts to stroll. Not run, not skate. Stroll. Shadow the Hedgehog, on a leisurely stroll. How hilarious. Sonic would flame him for this.
The foliage melts together in a blur of green. The occasional flicky will greet him, tweeting around his head before flying up into the trees. It makes him smile, if only briefly. This is the nature Maria wanted to protect: the animals that stop to say hi, the trees that serve to give you food and shade. The waves crashing on the shoreline, the shells abandoned by growing hermitcrabs. She would've loved this. He remembers the first time Silver picked an apple from a tree; the delight in the kid's eyes as he bit into it and almost cried. He puts Maria into the memory, standing bright next to Silver, smiles matching. Two kids, kind despite everything they've gone through, experiencing something for the first time. That thought chokes him up; it's a bit too much to handle right now, so he shoves it far, far down.
The sun has dried the remainder of his quills, but they're still unruly and not at all up to his standards. He runs his fingers through it a couple of times, but it serves no use. The quills refuse to cooperate with him. Plus, his fur is now puffy, well, even puffier than usual, with the absence of his routine. He looks like a rogue dandelion, ready to be blown away by the wind. He's so tired that he can't bring himself to care about his appearance.
He walks for a while, completely zoned out and unaware of his surroundings (he berates himself internally for letting his guard down). A sound of distress breaks him out of his trance. His ears flick, swerving around to find the source of the noise. Another small squeak, followed by a frantic one. He follows it, all exhaustion leaving him for a moment as he prepares for danger. Instead, he stumbles upon a little pond. In the pond, he finds the reason for the noise. Two Chao fill his vision, one panicking on the edge of the tiny pond, and one in the water, splashing helplessly.
Shadow doesn't hesitate, moving in and gently picking the little Chao up, cradling it in his gloves. The other Chao chirps happily, trying to climb Shadow's leg. He scoops up the other one, too, holding them close as they check on each other.
"What are you guys doing here? Where's your garden?" Shadow questions, more to himself than the Chao. He looks around, scanning for any sign of their garden, but the non-wet Chao flies up, pointing in a direction and speeding off. Shadow huffs, following the creature as he holds the little one to his chest, helping them dry off.
Through the trees and vines lay a small Chao garden, encased in a little alcove of green. The flying Chao lands and explains something to the others, causing Shadow to get swarmed by a wave of chirping Chao. Above their heads are little hearts, crowding Shadow's vision. Despite himself and his dreadful mood, he can't help but laugh at their behaviour. He crouches down, allowing them to bombard him,
"Okay! Shhh, calm down, I have to put the little guy down. Don't crowd them," Shadow's voice is kind as he instructs, and they listen well. They form a small circle, and Shadow sets the now-damp Chao in the centre. The Chao wobbles for a second, readjusting to standing, and then they're being hugged on all sides. Shadow chuckles again, letting them tend to their friend. It's nice here, he decides. Relaxing, peaceful, and full of little friends. He lies down, allowing the sunrays to warm his face pleasantly. The Chao take advantage of this, scurrying on top of him and nuzzling into every inch of fur they can find. One particularly shy Chao taps his hand, and as he cracks open his eye, he can see a '?' floating above their head as they look at him with wide eyes. He huffs fondly and moves to cup the Chao with his hand, gently petting their head. Sweet little things.
"You guys must be happy, huh? No stress, no trauma, just relaxing with your friends," he mumbles as a Chao nudges his cheek. Even here, in the middle of the most peaceful cuddle pile he's ever experienced, his past won't leave him alone. Something about the exhaustion is making him vulnerable; visions of Maria dance behind his eyelids, almost close enough to touch. The Chao must sense his sadness, as they begin cooing at him, making sad noises as they waddle around. One runs off, returning with a large fruit in their hands, almost too big for them to carry. Shadow takes it gratefully, his meagre breakfast coming back to haunt him.
"Thank you, little one," he breaks the fruit in half, offering the larger piece to the Chao. They coo happily, accepting the offering, and Shadow shoves the smaller half in his mouth. It's sweet, unlike that silly apple from before. It makes him smile. Such small creatures, capable of making a difference in his sad little world.
He doesn't realise he's drifting off into space again, not quite asleep, and definately not restful. His mind wanders off in a haze of memories and fuzz. A place where time doesn't exist. Gaia, he's so tired. He's been trying to ignore the contents of his GUN mission, but he suspects that it's the reason he's so utterly drained this time around.
The core of the mission was simple: break into an old Robotnik base, fight the leftover security robots and gather intel. Run of the mill for Team Dark. However, unlike most of Robotnik's bases, this base was far away— basically on the other side of the world, actually. Crawling with bots and built like a maze. Shadow's never seen an Eggman base with that many secret tunnels and hallways. It took them two to three days to map out the place, and another day to work through all the dead ends. Once they finally made it to the body of the base, it was another full day of gathering up all the information they could find. It was long, tedious, and tiring. The intel, however, was where stress quickly arose for Shadow.
The team wasn't told what they were collecting, only that the Doctor had been researching things that he should never get his hands on. It's only when they tore open the base, hall from hall, that they realised the information pertained to the ARK; more specifically, the Black Arms. He nearly shivers just thinking of the dreaded title. He hates them. He hates that stupid species, despite its blood flowing through his veins. He feels his skin itch at the thought. The need to rip himself apart and remove every drop of Black Arms DNA he can find. If it kills him, so be it. It'll be worth it to never have any association with the species again.
The mission was hard, especially for Shadow. Rouge and Omega knew it, though the Ultimate Lifeform tried to save face. He can't hide from his family; they know him too well. Unfortunately, keeping any and all Black Arms information from Shadow was virtually impossible, considering the sheer amount of it spread out on every computer and book in the old lab. He did his job, and he did it well, but now he's facing the consequences of his own emotional neglect. Every piece of information flashes in his mind. Every bio report, every observation. Every sketch of the aliens' bodies. How Robotnik got all that information, Shadow truly doesn't know. He can only hope the doctor's understanding of the Black Arms is as poor as his win rate. He tried not to read any of it— just upload the info and move on— but he couldn't help himself. Part of him needed to know. Needed to see what exactly he was made of; how much of a monster he is.
The Chao start chittering around him, excited. His ears flick as he hears something rustling in the bushes. Shadow tenses, a cold feeling of abnormal fear running down his spine. A flash of blue pokes out from the green, and suddenly a familiar face is peering down at him.
"There you are!" Oh, it's Sonic. He relaxes instinctively at the blue blur's voice. He hums in greeting, the Chao preventing him from waving or sitting up. Sonic walks closer to him, kneeling beside Shadow's impromptu cuddle pile. A few of the Chao flock over to him, greeting him happily as he giggles.
"I can admit, these little guys are worth bailing on the picnic for!" Sonic laughs, his voice cheery and fond as the Chao climb him. Shadow hums again, and then freezes, his eyes widening; bailing?
"What time is it?" Shadow asks, a quiet horror in his voice.
"2PM. When you didn't show, I got worried," Sonic admits sheepishly, a faint flush on his cheeks. Shadow groans, raking his free hand over his face,
"2PM? I- I lost track of time. I'm sorry," he apologises, guilt flooding his voice. Just another misfortune to add to the day. The Chao cupped in his palm nuzzles into him, comforting him. Sonic's brows furrow, and he leans over Shadow slightly,
"Hey, it's alright, man! Things happen." Sonic's voice is genuine as he speaks, care sparkling in his eyes. He hesitates, then, frowning,
"Rouge told me you guys had a rough mission?" He questions tentatively. Shadow nods, blinking lazily. He doesn't bother speaking; he doesn't need to. Sonic can read him like a book. He doesn't know how, but he's learnt not to question it. Sonic moves again, hovering directly over him now, hands bracing the ground on both sides of his face.
"You look exhausted," the blue hedgehog whispers softly, concern coating his voice, "did you rest?"
Shadow considers lying, but he sees those endearing emerald eyes scanning his messy quills and dreadful demeanour, and he relents,
"Couldn't. Got home and had the shittiest night. No water heater, no electricity, no food. Got soaked in the rain fixing my wiring. No time to relax." Just relaying his night raises his anger again. It sorta feels good to vent it out, surprisingly. And Sonic's sympathetic eyes don't feel so patronising right now. Sonic grimaces,
"Yeah, that sounds like hell. Wasn't that mission like...a week long? When was the last time you slept?" Sonic's eyes are worried; it makes Shadow's quills bristle. He contemplates the question. When was the last time he slept? Every time he drifts, he's startled awake by forming nightmares.
"I don't know." He replies honestly, because what else is he meant to say? It's Sonic. He can't lie to Sonic. (About important things, at least. He will tell white lies to mess with the blue hedgehog anyday, anytime.)
Sonic's frown deepens, and he leans down closer to Shadow, their noses almost touching. He's straddling Shadow, now, and the darker hedgehog finds that he doesn't quite care. It's relaxing, oddly. He doesn't feel boxed in or cornered. Just safe.
His eyes search Shadow's red ones, looking deep into his very being. Shadow feels exposed, but Sonic's eyes are so earnest and loving, he can't help but spill his worries.
"Every time I try to sleep, I end up back on the ARK," he admits quietly, and he hates that his voice shakes. The Chao are still cuddling into him, supportive and precious in this moment of intimacy. Sonic's eyes soften, and he lets his head fall, resting his forehead against Shadow's. Shadow closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of Sonic. He always smells like wildflowers and mud, no matter how much he showers or how long it's been since his last run. It's comforting. Sonic hums, and it reverberates through Shadow pleasantly. He doesn't offer any empty words of comfort or apology; it wouldn't make a difference. He's just a steady presence for Shadow to bask in.
"Do you think some company might help?" Sonic asks, their touch lingering for just a moment before he sits up. Shadow follows suit, slowly sitting up and allowing the Chao plenty of time to jump off his chest and arms. He leans forward, straight into Sonic, letting his head fall in the crook of Sonic's neck. Sonic embraces him nearly instantly, arms circling and supporting his weary form as he sighs. He's very touchy today. Maybe the mission has reopened his touch starvation issues.
"We 'ave to go to the picnic, I'm already late," Shadow slurs out, burying his face into Sonic. He feels the blue hedgehog hold him tighter, his quills brushing against Shadow's as he shakes his head,
"What you have to do is rest, Shads. Everyone understands," Sonic insists. Shadow can feel his breath against his ear,
Gently, gloved hands begin threading through Shadow's unruly quills, straightening them out. Shadow can't hold back the purr of delight; Gaia, that feels so good. His body relaxes into Sonic's hold, melting against the hedgehog as he continues to pet through the dark quills. Sonic laughs, airy and fond. Shadow loves that sound so much. Usually Sonic's laugh is bold and mocking, or prideful. Even his uncontrollable giggling is boisterous and full of joy. But this little laugh he lets out in these soft moments, it makes Shadow's brain go fuzzy. Static takes over his mind, and all he can focus on is Sonic.
"I'll let them know you didn't bail. No one's gonna get mad. We just want you to be okay." Sonic's voice drops to a whisper, coated with emotion. Shadow hums, too tired to fight against Sonic's words. Just having Sonic here has been enough to push away those Black Arms research documents far out of his mind. He feels his stress melting away with every pass of Sonic's fingers through his quills. His eyes unconsciously close, the Chao around them becoming background noise to his sleepy brain. Sonic chuckles again, that sweet sound,
"Alright, Sleeping Beauty. I've got you." He's shifted a bit and then lifted. Sonic's arms cradle him, one around his back and the other looped behind his knees.
This bitch is bridal carrying Shadow. If Shadow had more strength, he'd have turned Sonic into a scorching pile of ash on the forest floor. But, unfortunately, Sonic's arms are warm, finally chasing the chill of that stupid shower away. And something about being held so preciously makes Shadow want to hold on and never let go. So he lets Sonic be, despite his incoherent grumbles of protest. They make Sonic more amused, if anything.
"Hold on, Shads. I'm taking you to mine." Sonic warns. Shadow nods, taking a moment to lift his head (which feels like lead at the moment) and wave goodbye to the Chao, who happily bid the duo farewell. Then they're gone, shooting off in a blur of blue and orange. Shadow trusts Sonic not to drop him, so he relaxes despite their breakneck speeds. They're at Sonic's house before he can get comfortable. Oh well, the perks of super speed.
Shadow's deposited on Sonic's bed softly. The hedgehog, in a twist Shadow truly wasn't expecting, kneels down, then, and ever so gently, he helps Shadow remove his air shoes. The action is done with such reverence that Shadow nearly chokes up. He rolls his eyes, instead, not ready to face that feeling. Sonic then kicks off his own shoes, treating them with much less care. He flops onto the bed, jostling Shadow, a mischievous smile on his face. Shadow ignores his antics, making quick work of cuddling into the familiar bed. He's spent plenty of nights here by now, mostly for Sonic, but sometimes for his own comfort, too. Sonic's blankets are comfortable, what can he say?
Sonic pulls out his phone, briefly tapping on it, and then tosses it haphazardly on the side table.
"Let them know we're gonna nap," He lazily explains, stretching out happily like a cat lazing in the sun. He's brazen as he pulls Shadow close; they slot together like they're meant to. Shadow breathes in deeply as Sonic caresses his back, caring and soft. Everything that Shadow needs right now. They don't need to exchange any more words; they both relax into each other's arms. He closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Sonic's breathing slows down, his gentle touches becoming clumsier as he drifts. And Shadow is wide awake. He would love to be in Sonic's shoes right about now, but his body refuses to cooperate. He's so tired. Why can't he sleep? It's stressing him out. For the last week, all he's wanted was a quiet, warm, safe place to rest, away from old labs and Black Arms DNA. Now, he has that. There's no place he can think of that would be safer than right here, in Sonic's arms. And yet, he can't fall asleep. His eyes burn, and with a startling jolt, he realises that the cause isn't his lack of sleep— it's tears. He clamps his eyes shut, desperately praying to anything, to anyone. He just wants some rest. Is that a sin? Why is this so impossible? Why won't his mind stop running at 100 mph? His thoughts are screaming at him, spitting all those Black Arms facts he unwillingly learnt back into his face. Maria's blood seeps into the corners of the memories, staining everything a sickening red. His body protests as he tenses again. His legs ache, his head hurts. Why Why Why-?
He lets out an embarrassing whimper into Sonic's fur, and the hedgehog is instantly alert again, despite being well on his way to dreamland.
"Hey, hey— What's wrong?" Sonic mumbles through his sleepy haze, his hands moving to comfort once again.
"I can't— I can't sleep," Shadow whines out, frustration coating his voice. He can't stop the tears from slipping past his eyelids. His breathing is all wonky, and the growing exhaustion is NOT helping. Sonic pulls back slightly, enough to look Shadow in the eyes,
"Hey, you're working yourself up. I need you to calm down," Sonic's eyes are creased in worry, his touch tender as he wipes away the stray tears falling.
"I'm sorry-" Shadow mutters, embarrassed at his stupid tantrum, "I just- I'm so tired- and my body hurts, and I can't sleep-" Sonic shushes him, and if he were any more coherent, he'd get offended.
"Shadow, it's okay. Don't apologise. Come here—" Sonic pulls him close again, pressing their bodies flush together and holding him tight. He squeezes rhythmically, and the pressure actually helps alleviate the panic building in Shadow's chest. He attempts to steady his breathing, inhaling the familiar and homely scent of Sonic. He can feel Sonic pressing soft kisses into the top of his quills, and he tries to focus on that instead of the thoughts swirling in his mind.
"I've got you. I know you're stressed, I'm sorry you can't rest," Sonic whispers the words, trying to comfort Shadow despite not knowing how to help the poor insomniac. The sound of Sonic's mumbling makes breathing easier.
"Talk to me. Please?" Shadow requests, hesitant but so desperate to fall asleep. If Sonic's voice is the thing that can lull him away, he'll swallow his pride and deal with it. Sonic pauses at the request, humming questioningly. Shadow can't believe he has to spell it out to the idiot,
"You- when you talk, it's calming," Shadow confesses, feeling heat rush to his cheeks at the admission. Sonic coos, the sound as demeaning as it is comforting. He lets the hedgehog bask in the praise for all of one second, and then he pushes himself more into Sonic's chest, prompting Sonic to start.
"Okay, I can talk. Yapping is my speciality. So, Tails and I went out a couple days ago; there was a travelling market in the village, and he just needed to get his hands on some new parts. So, being a good big brother, I took him shopping— by the way, that little rat dared to say he missed YOU while out shopping with ME. How did you become his favourite? It's unfair! So yeah-" Sonic starts rambling about his brother's week. Shadow tries to pay attention for as long as he can; he truly does! But- Gaia, Sonic's voice is so soft and nice as he's reminiscing, and Shadow's little theory proves true as his eyes start to close, the gentle call of sleep luring him away.
After a terrible mission, followed by an equally terrible night, this is bliss to Shadow. Finally, finally, he can feel himself actually drifting off. No more ARK, no more aliens, no more blood. No stupid broken water heater and chewed-up electric wires. No more cold. Just him and Sonic, warm and safe. Sonic's voice drones on, quiet enough to not grate against Shadow's ears. His fingers play with Shadow's fur, and the darker hedgehog can feel Sonic's jaw moving against the top of his head as he speaks. It's pure solace. Sonic is pure solace— a safe place to land after weeks of running on fumes.
Shadow can't remember the last time he slept so well.
When his eyes peel open, the sun is shining brightly through Sonic's windows from the East. Sonic's next to him, awake, looking at him with awe and care as he slowly wakes himself up.
"Mornin' Shads. It's tomorrow," the hedgehog smiles cheekily, not even bothering to hide his blatant staring. His green eyes are taking in every single part of Shadow's visible body. They scan his face, then his quills (which are probably, once again, a mess), then they lower to his chest and hands as he stretches. Shadow has half a mind to scold Sonic on etiquette, but he can't, for he is the one in Sonic's bed. The thought briefly makes his face flush, the sight greedily appreciated by Sonic as he lights up. Instead, Shadow turns to the blue hedgehog, more restful than he's been in— hell, in months— and he smiles. An honest to Gaia smile.
That sight seems to take all the breath from Sonic's lungs. His inhale stutters, eyes widening as he takes in the extremely rare sight of a full-blown grin on his rival's face.
"Thank you, Sonic." Those words can't convey how grateful Shadow is to his companion. He hopes it gets through to Sonic anyway.
Sonic hasn't found his voice yet, though, and Shadow's grin softens into a fond smirk as the hedgehog stammers and stutters, a red flush taking over his face.
A knock on Sonic's bedroom door breaks them out of their staring contest. As Sonic's still slack-jawed, Shadow calls out a 'Come in!' for him. The door creaks open, and Tails' little face peeps through. He shuffles in like he belongs, not bothering to shut the door behind him, and he climbs onto the bed. Shadow dutifully opens his arms, and the kit gratefully dives in, a happy chur sounding through the room,
"We missed you! I got to say hi to Rouge yesterday, but Sonic said you needed to rest first," the child smiles, cuddling close to Shadow.
"I missed you, too, little one. I'm sorry for missing the picnic—" He starts, but Tails shakes his head,
"No, Sonic explained, it's okay! I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he mumbles shyly, his tails flicking behind him. Shadow glances at Sonic to find that his previous speechlessness has been taken over by the fondest expression Shadow's ever seen.
"What, no hug for big bro?" Sonic jokes, and Shadow huffs out a laugh as Tails sticks his tongue out at his brother, purposefully resting his head against Shadow's shoulder.
"I am hugging my big bro," Tails teases. Though Shadow knows it's all in jest, the words still warm his heart. A big brother. He's never been the big brother before. Both Maria and Rouge were older than he is. (Kinda? Rouge is mentally older than him; the 50-year stasis doesn't count towards his age.)
At the thought of Maria, the stressors of yesterday flood back. But this time, surrounded by his new makeshift family, it doesn't feel so overwhelming.
"How about I make you guys breakfast? As a thank you." Shadow suggests. Both brothers light up at the idea, nearly identical in their reactions. Tails nods frantically, pointing an accusatory finger at Sonic,
"He fed me sugary cereal for a week straight! I felt my teeth rotting, Shadow!" Tails complains, and Sonic gasps dramatically,
"I offered you chilidogs!"
"I am NOT eating a chilidog for breakfast!"
"It's basically a breakfast sausage—"
"No, it is NOT!!"
Shadow takes it back; he prefers cold showers and fixing wires in the rain. These two are gonna turn his quills grey.
(He's lying to himself. He loves these idiots.)