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‘You need to let me do this, sweetheart.’
Shadow and Rouge were sitting on a sofa in her office at GUN’s headquarters. She almost never used the place, but it was good to have somewhere to lie low if needed, and she kept supplies here in case she needed them… such as a pair of claw trimmers.
Shadow stiffened. His hand lay in her palm, and unsubtle tremors wracked his arm. ‘…I’ve never had to cut my claws before.’
She gave him a weary look. ‘Not that you know of. You have amnesia, remember?’
‘That’s not funny.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be funny. Look, I’ll take you out for coffee afterwards.’
Shadow’s eyebrows slowly ascended. ‘I’m not a child. You don’t need to incentivise me—‘
‘Then take your damn gloves off so I can get on with it.’
Shadow growled, removing his gloves one by one. The index finger of one glove was torn. His claw had ripped right through it. He’d been training GUN agents in the training grounds. Every few months, there was a wave of new recruits… and more people who didn’t have the common sense not to talk about Shadow behind his back.
“Test tube baby.” “Fifty-year-old man.” “Maria’s loyal pet—”
He’d punched someone so hard that it had broken their helmet and shattered one of his claws. He’d stumbled off, cursing, not at the pain – not yet – but at their arrogance. She and Omega had looked on in shock, but while she had rushed after her teammate, the robot had remained behind. GUN hadn’t changed all that much, despite the commander and the president’s best efforts. Some of their agents were still cruel bastards.
Rouge carefully took his hand. His claw had been broken below the quick. When he’d stormed out of the training grounds, he’d left a faint trail of blood droplets in his wake. The wound had already healed, but the keratin would take longer to regrow.
‘Sandpaper.’
‘What?’
Shadow cleared his throat. ‘They gave me sandpaper on board the Ark. To wear down my claws. Don’t we have any of that?’
Rouge shook her head. ‘No. And your claws are far too long. I’m not going to file each of them down.’
‘Then I’ll do it.’
‘Are you scared of a pair of nailclippers?’
‘I have the common sense not to let people come within reach while holding something that could cut me!’ Shadow snapped.
‘Do you honestly think that I’ll cut you? I’m not that careless.’
His ears flattened. ‘I-I know that.’
‘You’re safe,’ Rouge said quietly. ‘It’s me. You trust me, don’t you?’
Guilt flashed across his face, and he nodded reluctantly. Before he could tense up, she slipped one of his claws beneath the blade guard. An LED light illuminated the keratin. She pressed down, harder and harder, and his fur stood on end. It felt like trying to pierce a diamond with a toothpick. Just as she was about to warn him not to move, the clippers snapped shut with a loud crunch.
Shadow flinched. His wrist spasmed. He might have strong impulse control, but he also hated loud noises. The sound of the clippers wasn’t unlike that of a gunshot.
‘See? You’re fine.’ Rouge fed another one of his claws into the slot. It was rare for their circumstances to afford her the opportunity to take care of him. She had to take those opportunities whenever she could. ‘What kind of coffee should we get later?’
He didn’t answer. He was staring at her hands, and his brow creased. He looked like he was in pain.
‘Am I hurting you?’
‘They declawed me.’ Shadow blinked several times, though whether he was clearing his vision or forcing back emotion, she couldn’t tell. ‘The scientists on the Ark declawed me so that I wouldn’t scratch them, but the claws just grew back. I don’t know what they were trying to accomplish.’
Rouge’s heart sank. Shadow wasn’t talking about merely trimming his claws. She was talking about a procedure that removed bones and caused pain. He was talking about a procedure that rendered animals helpless for human convenience. The scientists’ efforts had been in vain, of course. His very genes had spited them, but while his body may have healed, his mind hadn’t. What’s more, his memories were returning over time as they were triggered by sensory stimuli.
She couldn’t help but think what fate might have befallen her if she had been in his position. Would the scientists have pinioned her wings to stop her from flying out of their reach?
She kept working, knowing that the sooner this was over, the better he would feel. But as she held his hand in her free one, she gently rubbed the inside of his wrist with her thumb.
His hackles slowly flattened, and his shoulders, taut with stress, began to lower. His quills lay flat. He abruptly turned his head away, but he was no longer fighting her. She could feel his resistance seeping out of his muscles.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Rouge said.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does, though.’ An awkward silence ensued, and the final crunch of the clippers sounded like a closing punctuation mark. She reached for his foot, but he shifted backwards, glaring at her. ‘No.’
‘Yes! If you protract your claws to this length and kick someone, you’ll break them. And at this rate, it’s only a matter of time before you kick one of the newbies.’
‘I’ll do it myself,’ Shadow muttered, taking the clippers and slipping them inside his wrist guard. ‘I watched you do it. It doesn’t look that hard.’
‘Fine, fine.’ Without warning, she took his hand again and picked up a bottle of clear nail polish from the table. She’d grabbed a handful of items along with the clippers, too worried at first to think about what she would actually need.
Shadow gave her a disgusted look. ‘I don’t need a manicure.’
‘It’s nail strengthener. Your claws might be as hard as rocks, but one of them still broke, and the break wasn’t clean. You need all the help you can get.’
He stood up, but when she grabbed his hand, he sank back down again, fuming in silence. She had a suspicion that he wasn’t just angry about the impromptu spa appointment. He was probably still stewing over the words of the GUN agents from the training ground. Sure enough, his expression saddened, and his shoulders slumped.
Rouge held her tongue, applying crystalline layers one after another. It had a faint pink, pearlescent tint, and it reminded her of the rose-gold hue that his fur assumed when he was in possession of all seven Chaos Emeralds.
‘…Do your claws look different when you go super?’
Shadow lifted his head, and his expression was indescribable. ‘Rouge?’
‘Yes?’
‘I only “go super” in life-or-death, world-ending situations. Do you genuinely think that I would have time to check my nails?’
‘Sure. You can stop time, can’t you?’
Shadow fell silent, and he looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘I guess so.’
She sat back, laying his hands to rest on the tabletop. ‘Don’t move, or you’ll smudge it.’
‘Rouge, it’s just clear polish, who gives a damn—‘
‘I do,’ she retorted, flitting over to the locker where she’d gotten her supplies and getting out a wire brush. He groaned, but she ignored him and took a seat by his side. ‘Hush. We need to fill in time while that dries.’ He never looked ‘well-groomed’, but when she was clipping his claws, she had noticed that his fur had looked even coarser than usual. ‘You should have realised that I might do something like this.’
‘Abraham’s the tactician, not me,’ Shadow said. ‘I shouldn’t have to think that far ahead.’
Rouge rolled her eyes. The brush wasn’t actually hers – it was a speciality brush designed for hedgehog fur and quills. She doubted that he would realise, and that was a good thing. He’d probably get worked up for some reason if he realised that she had bought the brush for his sake. She began to run it through his fur. ‘Oh, how terrible. Someone’s got through your defences and is taking care of you for once. Tragic.’
He bit his lip, and she felt a flash of guilt. Maybe she was being a bit mean. But then he exhaled and said, ‘…No one’s ever done this for me before.’
She was tempted to ask, ‘What about Maria?’ but now wasn’t the time for that. For all she knew, he may very well have fond memories of Maria brushing his fur and taking care of him, but for all he knew, they might be fictitious illusions wrought by Professor Gerald.
‘No one?’
‘No.’ His ears drooped. ‘The scientists on the Ark would decontaminate me using an antibacterial solution. They said it was for Maria’s sake, but it was probably because they couldn’t be arsed to do this.’ He jerked over his shoulder with one thumb, toward the brush.
‘Mm.’ She wished she knew what to say when he opened up. It happened so rarely, and it took him so much effort. He deserved more than a ‘yeah’ or ‘true’. You wouldn’t think that this was so hard for him, based on how he acted. He sounded casual. Threw in a few swear words for plausibility. But his shoulders were bowed, like two halves of a collapsing bridge.
‘...I wish you’d take better care of yourself,’ Rouge said.
She saw his fur stand on end, and he said, ‘You don’t have to do this. It’s not like I’ll die if you don’t take care of me.’
‘But I don’t like seeing you like this.’
‘Then don’t look.’ She could hear the anger simmering in his voice. ‘Weapons don’t need to look nice. They just need to be functional. I don’t need this, I don’t need any of it—‘
‘Stop it.’ She pursed her lips and kept brushing, working her way down his back and shoulders. ‘Just stop it.’
All his life, he’d been told that he didn’t need anything. It was meant to be a point of pride, but it had twisted him beyond recognition. He had Maria’s heart and soul, but he was clearly trying to break free of her spirit’s grasp.
I don’t want to be her.
He’d admitted it in a rare moment of vulnerability. He didn’t want to be anything like her – sick and fragile and in need of care. He didn’t even want to retain her good attributes: her kindness, her gentleness, her long-suffering nature… or maybe he didn’t know how.
There was a loud slam against the door, and they both turned to see Omega shouldering his way into the room. ‘Report status.’
Shadow pivoted, resting one arm on the back of the sofa. His eyes widened. ‘…What have you done?’
It was then that Rouge noticed the blood dripping from Omega’s claws.
‘I exacted retribution.’ Omega clenched his fist. ‘An eye for an eye.’
‘Wait. You broke that agent’s fingers?!’ Rouge shrieked. ‘Omega! That comes out of our paycheck!’
‘Irrelevant.’ Omega lumbered over and stood behind the sofa. His gaze lingered on Shadow’s injured hand, then snapped to the brush that Rouge held. ‘You are using inferior hardware.’
‘Omega, no. You’ll cut him–’
Omega reached out with his unbloodied hand and raked his clawed fingers down Shadow’s back, from shoulder to tail.
‘Omega!’
Shadow crumpled. He doubled over, resting his arms on his knees and letting out a relieved groan. ‘…That feels incredible.’
Rouge choked, and Omega rotated his head towards her. ‘I win.’
‘It’s not a competition!’
Shadow looked over his shoulder. ‘Did I tell you to stop? Keep going.’
‘Do not give me orders,’ Omega said, but he complied nonetheless.
Shadow closed his eyes and smiled. His purr was so loud that it startled Rouge, and she half smiled. It sounded like a jet engine… like a distant roar behind them.