Work Text:
Shadow had never come to her apartment before. It took up the top floor of Club Rouge, and there had always been an implicit understanding between them that if he ever really needed help, her door would always be open for him. But that day had never come. He knew where the spare key was, and he knew the security code to take the elevator to the top floor, but he’d never set foot in her apartment.
‘Omega?’ Rouge was sprawled out on the sofa, toying with her earpiece while she was reading a magazine.
‘I am otherwise engaged –’ She heard the sound of artillery fire through her earpiece, followed by a loud slam.
‘Have you heard from Shadow?’
‘Not since you previously enquired. More hostiles incoming. Ending transmission.’
A knock on the door startled her, and she looked up from her magazine. She thought she might have imagined it, but then she heard the scuff of shoes outside the door. She frowned, got up, took the needle off the jazz record spinning on the turntable, and flitted over to the peephole.
Shadow stood on the other side. The moment that she registered the bandages on his fur, she scrambled to unlock the door and threw it open.
He avoided her gaze as though he’d been caught shoplifting. His ribs were bandaged, and his arm was in a sling. There was a Band-Aid on the bridge of his muzzle, and she could see nicks and scratches half-hidden by his fur.
‘Shadow! What happened to you?’ She reached out, touching the strap of the sling, and her chest tightened. ‘Why didn’t you come to me?’
‘I did.’ He swayed on his feet and braced one hand against the doorframe. ‘I just fixed myself up first. You said that you were tired of doing it.’
Rouge pressed her lips together. ‘That’s not what I said. I said that I was tired of fixing you up after you kept getting injured due to your own recklessness.’ Shadow’s ears flattened, and he didn’t argue further. ‘Well? What is it?’ she asked impatiently. ‘I can’t read your mind, you know.’
He took a step back, but his gaze darted to the light spilling from the open door behind her. He faltered. ‘…Can I still come in?’
‘Don’t be stupid.’ She took his uninjured arm and led him over the threshold. ‘Of course you can.’
She closed the door behind them, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Warm lamplight spilt over every surface. The coffee table was scattered with magazines and bottles of nail polish. The scent of French vanilla rose from a diffuser stone on a side table. The space looked soft and warm and lived in, and Shadow stared at it in bewilderment.
‘What?’ Rouge asked, forcing a smile. ‘Do you think I just stop existing when I leave your line of sight? I have a life of my own, you know.’
‘I know,’ Shadow said, but his knee buckled, and when he took a step to steady himself, she noticed he was walking with a heavy limp. She hurriedly sat him down in a nearby armchair. Needling him could wait. It could wait quite a while, actually.
‘What on earth did you do?’ Rouge asked.
He winced and held one hand to his ribs. ‘Nothing new. Couldn’t sleep. Went on a mission for GUN to take my mind off things, then another, then another. Daisy-chained the damn assignments together.’ He hissed sharply, breathing through the pain. ‘… Got careless. The harder and faster I fight, the less time I have to think. But I can only fight like that for so long.’
‘Did you take off your rings?’
He didn’t answer, but he subtly drew his wrist away from her line of sight.
She buttoned her lips, resisting the urge to tear into him. She’d scolded him before. Yelled at him, even. But no matter what she said, he still disappeared when things got too hard and came back with broken bones and bloodied knuckles. He put himself in life-or-death situations, drowning in chaos, just so he didn’t have to think about his past. This was the only way he knew how to cope. He didn’t know any other.
‘You need to stop. You know that, right?’ She cupped his face with her hand, and he stiffened at her touch. ‘Please.’
‘What else am I supposed to do?’
‘You should have come here, but sooner. You shouldn’t let things get this bad.’
‘I didn’t want to bother you—‘
‘Doing this to yourself bothers me way more. Stop it.’ She removed her hand, and his lashes lowered. He looked like he was about to faint… which was a very real possibility if he had removed his rings earlier. ‘Hang on. Stay with me, sweetheart.’ She grasped the edges of the coffee table, pulling it back from the sofa. ‘Don’t go towards the light and all that.’
‘I can’t die,’ Shadow said, and she saw a smile flicker on his face.
‘You seem keen to disprove that theory.’ She grabbed the handles on the edge of the sofa and pulled, unfolding it into a sofa bed and pulling back the bedding. She didn’t know what the hell she’d been thinking when she’d bought it. She’d furnished the apartment so that she would be able to invite friends over to stay… only to remember that she hadn’t gone to college or worked a normal job or done anything to make any friends in the first place.
‘Come on,’ Rouge said, hauling him up by his good arm. ‘Just a few steps.’ It wasn’t like she couldn’t carry him, but he would probably hiss and writhe in her arms like a temperamental cat. He still had his pride, after all. He stumbled over to the bed, gripping her arm for support, and sank onto the mattress. ’Try to get some rest, all right?’
She helped him get beneath the covers, and his eyes flickered. He shifted his arm within its sling. ‘…I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.’ She glimpsed a discomfited expression on his face. ‘That’s one of the reasons I was doing all this in the first place.’
‘Doesn’t matter.’ She dimmed the lights a little more and said, ‘Just take it easy.’
He looked confused, as though he didn’t realise that he’d been waiting for permission to rest. He slumped back against the pillows, letting out a quiet sigh. ‘…I’ll try.’
She wandered into the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge and cupboards. She never asked if Shadow wanted something to eat. She just gave him food before he could protest. It was easier. She looked in the fridge and grimaced – leftover pizza and far too many cases of beer. He needed to get his strength back after abusing his powers, but this was hardly appetising.
She idled beside the microwave as their dinner reheated, then took his plate and placed it on his lap before he could argue. He was so lost in thought that it took him a few seconds to notice.
‘You good?’ She sat on the opposite end of the bed, tucking her legs beside her.
‘I’m… fine.’ He sounded dazed, and he looked a little shell-shocked. ‘I just… I never thought I’d actually come here. I didn’t think things would get this bad.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘I thought they’d get better eventually.’ He removed his gloves, revealing knuckles wrapped in bloodied bandages, and forced himself to eat. He had a resigned look on his face.
Her heart sank. Part of the reason she’d told him her door was always open was that she wasn’t good at knowing what to say. She’d hoped that she’d be able to give him a safe place to fall back to when things got hard, that her actions would be enough when her words fell short.
‘…They’re not going to get better if you keep running yourself into the ground.’
‘I’ve tried it, you know.’ Shadow’s gaze wandered, moving from detail to detail, from framed wall art to trinket trays. ‘Taking care of myself.’ His ears twitched, and he grimaced. ‘It never felt right.’
‘Maybe it would be easier if you weren’t living out of that dingy concrete box beneath GUN’s headquarters.’ Team Dark had a shared flat, and she often bounced between her apartment and the room that she had there. She’d seen Shadow lurking in his own room many a time, leaning over dismantled guns on his workbench or lying on the military cot in the corner. ‘There’s nothing stopping you from getting a place of your own.’
‘There is, actually.’ Oil dripped onto his bandages, and he removed them, revealing healing wounds. ‘I wasn’t made for this kind of life.’ He nodded in the direction of her armchair – throw blankets, reading glasses, and a pair of slippers. ‘I don’t need any of this.’
‘But you want it, don’t you? Why else are you here?’ He hesitated, and she probed further, asking, Do you feel like you don’t deserve it?’
His expression darkened, and she edged back, wondering if he was going to fling his plate across the room and storm out. These kinds of questions always hit close to home. She knew that he blamed himself for being unable to cure Maria, among many other things. But then his expression crumpled, and his grip tightened on the edge of the empty plate. ‘Yeah. That’s about right’
The utterance was so short and quiet that it didn’t sink in at first. Then her heart skipped a beat, and she took the plate out of his hands. ‘That’s not true.’ She gently shook him by his uninjured shoulder. ‘That’s not true at all.’
Oh, how she wished that she had a better way with words. She’d give her right arm to be one of those people who could talk Shadow down from something. She wanted to convince him that he didn’t deserve to live a miserable life, but she didn’t know how.
She gave up and hugged him, unable to think of anything else that she could do. He felt as stiff as a board at first, but then he gave in and relaxed.
‘It’s hard,’ he said, and his voice was hoarse from strain. ‘It’s hard to believe that I deserve a better life after everything that’s happened. But you… You keep coming back. You keep helping me, even when I keep pulling these stunts. You make it easier to believe.’ Rouge blinked back tears and hugged him so tightly that he yelped. ‘Watch it!’
‘Oh, quit fussing.’ She let him go and asked, ‘Did you actually break your ribs?’
‘…Maybe.’
‘Then you need real medical attention—’
‘No,’ Shadow retorted. ‘I’m already healing.’
‘Alright, fine. Settle down.’ She took their empty plates to the kitchen, glancing at him. She could only hope that it was true – that he was actually healing, from both his injuries and everything else he’d been through.
She rejoined him and curled up in her armchair. Shadow had taken a book she’d left on the coffee table and lain down in bed with it. It was a book about precious gemstones, and he was already struggling to keep his eyes open.
‘Trying to put yourself to sleep?’
‘I’m not tired. I don’t need to...’ His grip loosened on the book, and it fell shut in his hands. Rouge turned off the lights, leaving only the reading lamp. She pricked her ears so that she could hear if he started having nightmares, but he seemed settled.
Her earpiece crackled. ‘Bat?’
‘Yes?’ she murmured.
‘Do we have a last known location for the hedgehog?’ Omega paused. ‘I am mildly concerned.’
‘He’s with me. Relax.’
‘No.’ Another pause. ‘...Good.’
The call ended as abruptly as it had begun, and Rouge spread her magazine over the armrest, watching over her injured teammate with a half-smile on her face.