Chapter Text
He wasn’t sure what initially set him off. The nightmare? The news? The text from Rouge?
So he’d start from the beginning.
He remembered running, the panic, his heart hammering at a million miles an hour. The flash of scarlet, the horrible, piercing drone of the alarm. He remembered the shove that separated him from her. The glass, impeding his ability to ever go back, cool and smooth through his gloves. He remembered the ice spreading through him, the cold terror of knowing he was going and she was staying behind, that she’d saved him. He wished she hadn’t. Shadow was meant to save her, damn it, and he’d failed. He recalled her words, her last request. She’d known then what he had never dared to face.
She was going to die.
He heard the muted crack that split the air, like a whip but a hundred times deadlier. He saw the jolt of her body, the crimson that stained her pretty blue dress brown. Her fragile legs gave out and he watched her fall as though in slow motion. Every strand of golden hair swept up as she went down, her skirt ruffling, body crumpling. He saw the tears in her eyes as she stared up at him, at odds with that smile on her face. As though in death she was happy to have been able to spare him. As though his life mattered more than hers. Incomprehensible to him at the time and still to this day. How could she have been so happy? What had she expected of him? Why had her life been taken so damn soon? Maria had deserved so much more than the awful hand she’d been dealt in life.
And as his capsule fell to the planet, he screamed, he cried, he threw a fit like a petulant child. Because it wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t. His life torn apart, her life torn apart. The festering resentment, the fiery outrage simmering to life under his skin. And then that impact that cemented the fact that everything had changed. Forever.
Death had become so real to him that day. Tangible. And no matter how much he lost of himself, that scene would always replay for him, on loop, a fucking mockery. It would haunt him, even if all the pieces weren’t there, weren’t in the right order. It was still there. Her phantom lingering for the rest of his long, miserable life.
He’d woken up in tears, reliving the injustice of it all over and over and over again. Was this his curse, to always remember that one moment so damn vividly? The blood. Chaos the blood. It was all too much.
Shadow, shaken and angry and wallowing in his own misery, had stumbled his way to the kitchen. In a daze, he’d made his usual coffee, completely on autopilot. Hollow red eyes stared a hole in the wall as he waited for it to brew. Then he swiped up the mug and walked into the living room. Because if he tried to ignore that ghost, maybe it would go away. In the back of his mind, a voice screamed at him to take a step outside, sit where he had three days ago, and try to empty his mind. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Rouge. But instead, his brain had sought distraction. Mindless distraction. So he’d turned on the television, setting down his mug a little too hard on the coffee table. It spilled. But he didn’t give a fuck; it wouldn’t stain anyway, the table was black.
It had defaulted to the news, as it always did. That was the best way to stay up to date with what was happening in the world after all. But today, today of all days, that was the worst thing it could have been on. Oh, he wished he’d somehow had the foresight to switch the channel the night before. But no, he always had to make sure in was on this channel before he switched it off. Curse his stupid, particular brain.
There was blue. And red. The two colours that were burned into his mind, a brand. Ruby-red eyes saw the blue hedgehog in the centre of the frame, struggling to his feet. Scuffed knees and smirking, bloody lips. One eye squinted closed, doubtlessly a black-eye in the making. A scrape along a peach chest, actively bleeding, likely where he’d been caught by something – machine or building, Shadow wasn’t sure. Most likely building, if the bricks scattered around him were anything to go by. But it didn’t much matter. He just saw Sonic, love of his life, bloody and bruised and smiling. Damn that fucking smile.
How was it so much like hers?
The footage was time stamped over an hour ago, the news recapping recent events. Events Shadow had slept though. He took a hesitant step forwards, towards the television. He hadn’t a clue what he’d been intending.
Then the buzz at his wrist, ripping him somewhat from his trance. A message. Moving slower than molasses, he rose his wrist to look at it. His blurry eyes strained to read the words. It was from Rouge. Eight words that made him feel violently ill. And he wasn’t even capable of being sick.
‘I take it you’ll be at the hospital?’
Shadow’s whole being froze. Hospital? Why the fuck would he be at the hospital? His mind couldn’t process it. It wasn’t going in. Should he know why he should be at the hospital? Was there a connection between something that his head just wouldn’t make right now? He had flashes to white rooms, the heavy scent of alcohol, the steady beep, beep, beep of an ECG machine. Endless wires and needles. The acidic tang of vomit.
Amid these horrible, familiar scenes, he managed to type out a message in response.
‘Hospital?’
He waited. And waited. Panic worming its way up inside him steadily. There was a flash on the television screen; it registered distantly. Then it pinged through, the message he’d been dreading, the name he’d been terrified of reading in the same sentence as hospital for a while now.
‘For Sonic?’
Now that he thought about it, that was when the world seemed to collapse.
Shadow screamed, ripping off his communicator and flinging it at the television. The screen split, picture going black during a zoom in on Sonic’s lifeless body lying among a new pile of rubble. Shadow fell to his knees, a fresh, frantic shriek escaping him as he stared at the black screen. Gloved hands came up to grip his temples, uncomprehending. An hour ago. It had been an hour ago. And he hadn’t been there. Was Sonic…? Was he…?
It took him a long time to realise he was crying, his breaths too short, too fast. He was aware that he was hyperventilating but unable to stop it. In his chest, his heart hurt. It was being crushed by his ribcage, collapsing in on itself. Was this what a heart attack felt like? He shouldn’t even be capable of one; he was the Ultimate Lifeform. He couldn’t get sick, his body could not fail. Shadow was immortal. He would outlive everyone he knew. Maria, Gerald, Sonic, Rouge. Vanilla, Cream, Tails. Everyone. Maybe with the right maintenance, Omega might stick around. But how long could Shadow bank on that? How long until Omega’s systems failed and it was no longer possible to repair him? How long until he was so blown apart there was nothing left to fix? One day, even the robot would leave him. And he’d be alone. Forever. As he was always destined to be.
Curling in on himself, Shadow tried desperately to get a hold of himself. To think of something, anything else, but his brain and, by extension, his body would not listen to him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Then he opened them to stare at the rug, letting the tears flow. If he let the feelings come, they should burn themselves out in time. But how long would that take?
Rouge was right, he should be at the hospital. Whether Sonic was there just in case, if he was badly injured or if he… if he was… Shadow grit his teeth. What ever the situation was, he should be there. He was dating Sonic. He loved Sonic. No matter what, he had to be by his side. Instead he was here, in his living room, throwing a fit. Over things that had happened a very long time ago. Over things he wasn’t even positive had happened earlier today. But that chance, that rare but still very possible chance, that Sonic was… He just couldn’t face that.
A quick message to Rouge would clear it up. One clarifying message. She would not judge him, she would not laugh. The bat would answer honestly and possibly even hug him later, no matter the outcome.
Still bawling and sniffling like a child, Shadow began frantically scrambling around for his communicator. Where had the fucking thing landed, damn it? It wasn’t like his house was cluttered – it was the opposite really. So where had it gone? He looked all over the living room, getting shakier the longer the little device eluded him. Eventually, he found it under the coffee table. Shadow huffed through his nose and pushed the button on the side.
It wouldn’t turn on.
“Fuck!” he screamed, dropping the communicator.
He’d broken it. Of course he’d broken the damn thing. Exactly when he needed it. The universe was out to get him today. Someone up there seriously hated him.
The dark hedgehog couldn’t leave like this. Crying uselessly, breathing wildly uneven, a mess. No one had ever seen him this way but his team, his family. Right now, everything felt impossible. The weight of Sonic’s safety was crushing him. Part of him didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know what happened to Sonic. He didn’t want to know how bad it was. And he understood that wasn’t healthy. But right now maybe not knowing was better. If it was really bad, not knowing was better. But it was also killing him inside. What was that saying? What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you? That was a Chaos damn lie; it hurt either way. The agony ran deep inside his chest and Shadow just wanted it to stop.
He was so sick of this.
Shadow wanted Rouge. But with his communicator wrecked he couldn’t call her. And leaving right now wasn’t an option either; he didn’t really trust his legs or his mental state. Facing anyone else was out of the question. He was presently aware of just how wrong he felt in his own skin. An awful tingly numbness was setting in, one he knew all too well. Shit. No, he couldn’t lose himself like this right now. Sonic might need him, damn it.
Or he might not.
Breathing hard, Shadow fully sat down on the floor. He was unstable and staying here was his best option. Thankfully, the settee was behind him so he had something to lean onto. So that was a good start. The ability to move and feel drained out of him like sand in an hourglass; slow and measurable, it would return to him once he’d righted himself. It was just a question of how long that would take and if he remembered any of the techniques Rouge had tried to teach him to help. Heart feeling like it was vibrating, Shadow closed his eyes. Somehow, he had to level out his breathing but that felt impossible at the moment. The problem was, if he didn’t control his breaths, he knew his panic would spiral out of control. And when that happened, his mind would wonder to the worst possible places.
He tried tensing and untensing his fists but even doing that was becoming difficult. It worked for a few minutes until his fingers began to slow down and he was forced to pick something else. What else had Rouge taught him?
‘Think,’ he thought irritably. ‘Think.’
Maybe he could… try counting the things around him? Shadow had never really been able to get that method to work for him but he was unable to come up with another technique right now. So he scanned around the room, taking in everything he could see. But his blurry eyes landed on the broken television first and he just started sobbing harder. Head bent, he stared at his own lap instead. Shadow was trying to calm himself down not make it worse.
Now it was too late; the damn was bursting.
Did it even matter what happened to Sonic? Either way he would die before Shadow. Either way they’d all be gone long before he was. What was the point of any of it? A lifetime for his friends was nothing but a second for the dark hedgehog. It was all meaningless. Why did he bother getting close to anyone?
Scrunching his eyes closed, he shook his head. No, he couldn’t think like that. Of course it mattered what state Sonic was in. The blue hedgehog meant the world to him. Next to Rouge, he was the person that he cared the most about in his life. He didn’t mean to make it seem like he didn’t care about the hero. Because he did. Shadow really, truly did care. He just… he couldn’t function right now. He couldn’t call Rouge for help. He had no other way of knowing if Sonic was even still alive. And the possibility he wasn’t was tearing him apart. A sob escaped his throat and Shadow just wanted to curl up somewhere dark and stay there for the next week. The light from the window was too much, it hurt his eyes and his soul.
And the window was open. He’d left it like that last night because he’d felt stuffy but hadn’t remembered to close it. The breeze buffeted the curtain and it felt much too calm for his current state of mind. Shadow wanted to rip the fabric off the rail and toss it outside. He couldn’t even get himself to stand right now though and that made him feel more frustrated.
His head hurt with how heavy he was breathing and he was beginning to feel nauseous. For the life of him – and his sanity – he couldn’t remember any of the other techniques Rouge had taught him. Obviously, they hadn’t been very effective for him in the first place, had they? Shadow was starting to think they were all completely useless when he was actually distressed. They were pointless, the lot of them. What was the purpose of trying to learn all these techniques if they didn’t work in the moment, damn it? Shadow growled. Obviously he was just wasting his time. His heart ached so much he wondered that it did not simply stop beating. Time passed slowly and yet so fast all at once. His brain was not functioning well enough to tell the difference anymore. One minute, one hour, did it really matter?
Head low, legs limply out to the side, Shadow didn’t know what to do. Everything looked… flat. No colour, no shade, no depth. It was like looking at a photo more than real life. Was he still dreaming? Was all this another breath of nightmare?
Then came the knock on the door. Quiet, hesitant almost. Assuredly not Rouge, who would have just tried the door first. Once she realised it was locked, the bat was more likely to pick it than bother knocking anyway. So Shadow knew it wasn’t her. But answering it was not an option. Perhaps whoever it was would go away. He sincerely hoped so because he wasn’t currently capable of engaging in conversation or, potentially, kicking someone in the stomach. Though, honestly, that last option was less likely as not many people knew where he lived.
Still trying desperately to slow his breathing, Shadow closed his eyes again. If it wasn’t Rouge, Shadow wasn’t interested.
‘Just go away,’ he thought irritably.
Another knock. Just one. Then a sound outside, some shuffling or movement – someone walking away? No, it was much too close for that. Not fading into the distance, it stayed at the same level for a few seconds. What were they doing out there? Shadow’s ear flicked. It was a little distracting, he supposed. Not enough though.
“Shadow? You in there?”
The dark hedgehog started. Sonic?
“Rouge said you weren’t responding to her messages,” Sonic called. “She was getting worried and asked me to come check on you.”
He was ok. Sonic was alive. Shadow felt silly for worrying so much about him. But then he thought about how one day that would be his reality, that Sonic would perish and there was nothing he would be able to do about it. And the fact remained that he had been in hospital prior to this. Rouge wouldn’t have sent him here if his state was that bad, right? So the blue hedgehog was stable, had to be. But why send him instead of coming herself? Shadow didn’t understand. But his brief relief immediately vanished.
The footsteps outside got a little louder. Then a quiet gasp sounded from by the window. Shadow couldn’t quite see from his angle but he assumed the hero had spotted him. There was more movement and then Sonic’s head poked around the curtain. Sonic was letting himself in through the window. Shadow met his wide eyes for a split second. Then the blue hedgehog kicked his legs inside, lowered himself to the floor and rushed over to him. Sonic landed in a kneel in front of him and Shadow winced. If he didn’t scrape up the skin there, they were assuredly going to bruise. Wait, hadn’t he already scarped his knees? Did Sonic not think at all? Shadow was here worrying about his wellbeing and the other was just throwing himself around willy-nilly. And he knew for a fact the window wasn’t open fully; he would have had to squeeze his way in to begin with.
And seeing the blood flecked gauze across his chest didn’t make him feel any better. If Sonic had re-opened or irritated that wound, Shadow would punch him in the face for being needlessly reckless. It had looked nasty on camera. The reminder sent a fresh wave of nausea through him.
“Shadow, are you ok?” Sonic asked. “What happened?”
He saw those emeralds eyes briefly scan the room, taking in the crack in the television, the askew coffee table, the communicator left haphazardly on the floor. Sonic even lingered for a beat on the coffee, cold, untouched, spilt on the table. The room did look like a mess, Shadow looked like a mess. Sonic’s attention did not drift for long; three seconds max was all it took for him to take in the room. The blue hedgehog looked so worried. Shadow was caught in place, staring at the slightly puffy area around Sonic’s eye, showing through as a red, almost purple shadow under his light muzzle fur.
“I saw… the news,” Shadow huffed between gasps. “I just… I don’t know what… happened.”
Sonic frowned for a beat, confused. Then understanding bloomed across his face and it fell more.
“Oh, Shadow…” Sonic said. “It probably looked pretty bad, huh? I’m ok, promise. No need to worry about me.”
Pretty bad was an understatement. It was possible Shadow’s grief-stricken brain had warped exactly how horrific it was but that did not change how commonplace it was to just…. watch Sonic get thrown around like that. And how increasingly sickening Shadow was finding that more and more often recently. Absolutely, positively sickening. He wasn’t sure he could take seeing Sonic go through that every other day anymore. It was just too much. One day his body would just give and that would be it. This lifestyle would kill him sooner rather than later. Explosions, shrapnel, lasers, spikes… they were all so deadly. At any moment, the wrong piece of shrapnel might make its way directly to Sonic’s heart.
“But I do… worry about… you,” Shadow muttered. “All the time. I don’t want to… lose you.”
He blinked upon feeling Sonic wipe under his eyes with a practiced, delicate finger. Like he’d done this before. But it didn’t mesh well with the way he’d seen Sonic deal with his own tears; harsh, frantic, violent almost. The distinction was bizarre.
Sonic hummed. He was frowning but also thinking. Rather intently. A minute later, his expression brightened a little; concern but also comfort were present.
“You just gotta live life to the fullest, Shads,” Sonic said. “If you constantly worry about losing everyone around you, you’ll be missing out on the time you actually get with them.”
Shadow took a deep breath. He looked up at Sonic, the picture of confidence and reassurance. Where the hell did that sick-with-terror-hedgehog go? The one who shrunk under his own fur at uncomfortable words? Who avoided his own problems? This felt more like the Sonic he used to know. The Sonic who always wore a bright smile. The Sonic who was unshakable.
The Sonic who let everyone dump their problems onto him, who absorbed it all like an emotion sponge and never asked anything in return.
“So you don’t ever worry about anything, huh, hedgehog?” Shadow snapped.
He had absolutely no idea where that came from. He hadn’t meant to say it at all. Shadow froze under his own words, shocked. He had to apologise but the word sorry seemed to have left his lexicon. And Sonic… Sonic was smiling. Sensitive Sonic who cracked under the weight of Amy’s tears just smiled at Shadow’s harsh words. Sonic, who routinely coiled at physical touch, took his hand and smiled.
“‘Course I do,” he said evenly. “I’m a Chaos damn hypocrite. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong either, Shadow. I’m not telling you to get over it all. I’m not saying you’re not allowed to feel the way you do. I’m just telling you to try and live in the moment. And right now, this is the moment. Me, you, here. Don’t think about anything else.”
“Sonic…”
The blue hedgehog shushed him. Gently, like talking to a child. And instead of feeling belittled or condescended… Shadow was oddly quelled by it. He was reminded that Sonic practically raised his kid brother and that was probably where he got the tone from. Sonic didn’t mean it to be disparaging. He meant it to be exactly how he said it; soothing, calming. And despite everything, it was sort of working on Shadow.
“Nothing else, Shad.”
Sonic took his other hand. The hero was still on his knees but he didn’t look phased by that. Shadow was sure it was incredibly uncomfortable.
“Close your eyes and stay with me, yeah?” Sonic whispered. “Stay here. Nowhere else.”
Shadow did close his eyes. But all he saw was Maria’s face, tear-streaked but smiling. That damn smile. He grimaced and felt Sonic’s hands tighten around his own. And, as though he could read Shadow’s mind, he hummed.
“Here, Shads. Stay here.”
He took a deep breath and her pale face disappeared. Shadow’s chest ached with the loss. But once the darkness was all he could see, he tried honing in on his other senses again. The flickies outside, the quiet buzz of the boiler, and Sonic quietly humming – it was a random tune that Shadow didn’t recognise. Both the smell of the old coffee, left on the table in his distress, and the scent clinging to Sonic’s fur met his nose. That sweet, earthy but heady smell, like sugar-soaked grass. Very strange but Shadow liked it. Because it was Sonic. And, for a moment, everything else fell away exactly how Rouge said it would. Shadow opened his eyes again and looked at Sonic.
The blue hedgehog was still there obviously, still on his knees, still holding his hands. He wasn’t looking at Shadow though. Sonic was staring out the window, smile a little skewed with worry –probably because he thought Shadow wasn’t looking. But intermittently his hands adjusted their grip on the dark hedgehog’s, tightened then relaxed, tightened again. Shadow wasn’t worried about Sonic ignoring him or his mind drifting; he knew, like him, Sonic was here. He just focused differently.
“I know it might not go away,” Sonic muttered. “Might not ever go away. But moments like these can make them feel less… scary.”
Why did it sound like Sonic knew what was bothering him? Aside from the blue hedgehog’s safety, of course, because that was obvious. No, it almost felt like he was talking about… Maria. It wasn’t a secret that Shadow was still haunted by her death but did Sonic actually suspect that or was he talking more generally? It was probably just a generalised don’t worry phrase. After all, how could he possibly know that? The blue hedgehog had only just gotten here. Unless Rouge had suspected and mentioned as much to the hero. That was entirely possible. Shadow wasn’t massively happy about her spouting off his issues but, if it was to anyone, he was glad she’d told Sonic. He was going to bring it up eventually himself anyway.
Sonic turned back to him, features smoothed out perfectly like that little glimpse Shadow had was never even there. Effortless. Again, that word practiced came to him.
“It’s not the first time I’ve had this conversation, you know,” Sonic admitted.
Calling it a conversation was rather generous, considering Shadow had barely said a word himself. He wasn’t in a very talkative mood at the moment. On the bright side, his breathing was finally evening out some. So what ever nonsense Sonic was saying was surprisingly aiding in his recovery but it was still slow. Gradually, his heart was calming alongside his breathing. His eyes were still damp though and Shadow was unable to fully clear his mind. The hero’s presence had helped ground him for now but he wasn’t yet stable and he could feel it. He hated being able to feel that he wasn’t ok with so much certainty.
Sonic chuckled but it held no mirth. Almost as though he’d tried to lighten the mood but couldn’t quite muster the strength himself. It definitely didn’t land the way he was sure Sonic had hoped. It was too clipped, too stiff. Something was off in the sound and Shadow wasn’t sure how to interpret it. If his mind was working right, maybe he could.
“Tails used to work himself into a tizzy worrying about me,” Sonic told him. “Still does. We’ve been over my mortality more times than I can count. I’d like to think he’s prepared for the inevitable – but I know no one ever is, myself included. If you ever need to talk, I’m here. I’m always here. Ok?”
And then he tried once more to lighten the mood.
“Say the word and I’ll be here in a Sonic-second.”
The blue hedgehog’s words sounded rehearsed. Or maybe like he’d said them countless times to a little, yellow-furred fox. Practiced. Shadow could picture him sitting down with Miles, saying assurances with the same soft smile.
This attempt sort of landed but it didn’t make Shadow feel any better. He hated that word. Inevitable. That was a deliberate choice. Not the unexpected or the possible but the inevitable. Like Sonic knew himself that his actions would one day kill him. Not might, will. The blue hedgehog was presenting it as a fact. And Shadow felt close to another breakdown. But Sonic just sat there, smiling away at him like that was ok. How was that ok?
“That’s not helping, Sonic,” Shadow snapped.
Sonic’s smile didn’t falter but he titled his head. The hero had the gall to look confused. For some reason, that really irked Shadow.
“Sorry,” he said sincerely. “What did I say wrong?”
“You prepare Miles for the inevitable?” Sadow said incredulously. “You seriously think that’s helping right now?”
The hero’s smile finally smoothed out to a more serious expression. The fake cheerfulness melted away. Somehow, that was worse. He’d seen fear and embarrassment on Sonic. He’d seen despair. But he’d rarely ever seen such a grimly solemn look burning in his eyes. It made Shadow uncomfortable, wishing for that stupid fake smile to come back just so he didn’t have to see it. The only ever time he’d caught a glimpse of a look like that was when Eggman had gone too far with one of his cockamamie schemes once. Shadow hardly remembered the situation anymore, only that expression stuck with him afterwards. It didn’t seem to fit.
Now he wasn’t sure what parts of Sonic were real and which were fake.
“You can’t avoid it, Shads,” Sonic said gently. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. One day, I will die. It’s not a fun thought but it’s true. Pretending that it’s not won’t help anything. You can’t change it. It could be tomorrow or I might be lucky and live another thirty years; who knows? But you can’t worry about all that. It’s out of our control.”
“But it’s not out of yours,” Shadow growled, ripping his hands from Sonic’s. “At any time, you could chose to stop fighting Eggman. That is your choice.”
For a brief moment, Sonic looked down at his hands, hurt. It cleared away immediately and he looked up at Shadow almost blankly. So calm, as if he couldn’t feel the tension rising in the air, couldn’t sense Shadow’s rising anger. Did he not realise how much his words had upset the dark hedgehog? Was the fool that fucking clueless? Did he think about anything he said? Seriously think? Shadow was starting to think that he didn’t if this was how he chose to handle this situation.
He briefly recalled Sonic saying he’d fucked up when talking to Amy. Well maybe he had.
“Then you can blame me all you want when that time comes,” Sonic said simply. “But you know I’m not changing my mind on Eggman. I can’t.”
Sonic folded his abandoned hands in his lap. His ears tilted back ever so slightly and he averted his eyes for a beat. The hero looked vaguely distraught but it wasn’t really registering on his face. A sort of acceptance had overcome him and Shadow furrowed his brow. The way he claimed he couldn’t felt a lot heavier than Shadow had expected. Why did it feel like the dark hedgehog was missing something there, that one word so… loaded. A switch being flipped inside him, Shadow’s wrath began to dissolve. Now he was just left hollow and confused.
“I’m sorry,” Sonic mumbled. “I thought it might help. But I’m not helping; I’m making it worse. Would you like me to go get Rouge instead? I’m sure she’s better at this. She… she knows you more than I do.”
Shadow immediately regretted snapping at Sonic. Again. This felt more like the hero he’d come to know recently all of a sudden. He really didn’t want the blue hedgehog to leave, he was just overwhelmed and thinking about things he’d rather not. Shadow knew all this would come to bite him eventually, he’d just been putting it off for so long. That was on him. Not Sonic.
So why was he taking it out on the hero?
“No,” Shadow whispered. “I don’t want Rouge. I want you. I didn’t mean to snap.”
But Sonic just shook his head. Sad but insistent. Shadow set his jaw. What did he mean no? The panic sliced through him like a scythe again. Was Sonic going to leave anyway? Had Shadow completely fucked up this time? The hedgehog had been relatively ok after the last time Shadow had lost his temper with him, back before they’d gone to that café. But had he gone too far now? Sonic was just trying to help – even if it had been handled a bit carelessly, in Shadow’s opinion – so he really shouldn’t have gotten so angry at him. He was just in a very fragile frame of mind.
“You’re allowed to be mad at me, you know,” Sonic muttered. “It’s ok. But if you don’t want me to leave, I won’t. You can yell at me if it helps.”
“Sonic… I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine. People deal with stuff differently. I can handle it Shads. I know you don’t really mean any of it but, if it helps, don’t hold back. I’ll be your personal punching bag if I have to.”
Punching bag. Is that really how Sonic saw himself? How horrible. Did that have anything to do with the weird way he’d insisted he had to fight Eggman? Did Sonic actually think he didn’t have a choice? Shadow couldn’t grasp it. Of course he could make his own decisions regarding the megalomaniac. So why was he making out like he couldn’t stop? Was that arrogance, him thinking he was the only one capable of taking the man down? Or was it some sort of fucked up acceptance? Did he feel pressured by the world to fight? Or was it all really his own decision?
“But-”
“Shadow,” Sonic stressed, cutting him off. “I’m not made of glass. Occasionally, I find provoking Knuckles into a fight helps me blow off some steam myself. Throwing a few good punches just works sometimes. What ever you need, I’m here.”
Sonic sat there and just looked at him patiently, expectantly. So understanding, so accepting. Shadow didn’t want to punch Sonic, not when he was already injured, but yelling at him had sort of helped. But, no, he didn’t want to snap at Sonic anymore either; that wasn’t fair.
Shadow wiped his eyes and sighed. He scanned Sonic’s appearance, actually able to take him in better now. There was a patch of gauze on the side of his head, held in place by fur-safe medical tape. A bandage wove down the length of his arm, blood flecked along the side of his upper arm all the way down to his forearm. Another piece of gauze was taped over his cheek and there was a nick taken out of his left ear. He was covered in minor scratches and scrapes and there were doubtlessly bruises hidden under his fur. Even more bandages circled his thigh too. Shadow could gather that Sonic had either hit something or slid across the ground on his left side, as that’s where the majority of the major damage seemed to be. And here he was, kneeling there like he was fine.
“Are you ok?” Shadow asked quietly.
The blue hedgehog blinked. He looked surprised. Chaos… Sonic looked down at all the bandages, ear flicking.
“Oh, I’m alright, Shadow,” he responded. “These are mostly just scrapes. Trust me, I wouldn’t have bothered wrapping half this stuff myself. Though I do have like… ten stitches on my chest? That’s really the worst of it and it’s not even that deep, honestly.”
Ten stitches weren’t that much? In what world? Shadow pointedly tried to ignore Sonic’s admission to not taking care of minor wounds and instead patted the spot beside him. He asked Sonic to sit down – properly – next to him for a bit. The hero still looked pretty thrown off by the lack of punches being aimed at his face for some reason but he sat there happily, taking Shadow’s hand again. Was Sonic ok with the touch today or was he doing it for Shadow? He wasn’t entirely sure but he wouldn’t move away if that’s what the blue hedgehog wanted. The dark hedgehog took a deep, steadying breath and focused on calming himself down fully. Sonic had not really helped much, so he seemed to give up trying to talk to him. But having him there, even if they sat in silence, was all Shadow really needed.
Because despite everything, Sonic was ok.
“Terrible show on TV?” Sonic asked suddenly.
It wasn’t exactly a joke but there was a hint of amusement hidden under his curiosity. Shadow turned to him with a frown. He was pretty sure Sonic knew what he’d seen that had ended with the television being broken. It was another attempt to lighten the mood once more. It might have been more effective this time.
“You could say that,” Shadow huffed.
“Well, we’re gonna have to replace that if I’m gonna come ‘round for movie night again,” Sonic said with a grin.
We’re. Not you’re, Sonic said we’re. As in he’d go with him to get a new television. The blue hedgehog elbowed him and Shadow huffed, looking away. But a small smile creeped up on his face for the first time since he woke. Was that an indirect ask for another date night? Shadow would take it. The blue hedgehog was definitely getting a bit bolder with asking himself now. Small steps but at least he didn’t flee from his own offer this time.
Sonic offered to take his communicator to Tails for him to get it fixed – Shadow had unwillingly admitted to breaking it – telling him he’d return it the moment it was ready. He appreciated it. But he also should really speak to Rouge soon so she could stop worrying herself. So Shadow asked to borrow Sonic’s communicator to make the call, and if he’d step outside for a moment while he spoke to the bat. The blue hedgehog gave him a salute, tossed the device to him and slipped out through the window again. He rubbed a hand down his face; the keys were on the hook by the door, so Sonic could have just let himself out normally. But who was he kidding? Sonic was far from normal.
And that’s exactly what Shadow loved about him.
He dialled up the bat, noticing that Sonic’s ringtone – or, rather, the vibration, as Sonic never seemed to have the sound on – was different than his and Rouge’s. Weird. He supposed Sonic had asked his brother for a custom one. He could see the blue hedgehog bugging the fox until he caved. But he could also envision Miles agreeing without question too.
“Blue? Hey, is Shadow alright?”
“I’m fine, Rouge,” Shadow said.
He heard her let out a breath. He knew Rouge tried to keep up a rather flippant, unshakable air but she truly worried about him sometimes. Shadow was sorry to have concerned her so much.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?” Rouge asked gently.
She knew to ask rather than expect him to just tell her. He always usually did come to her with his issues but sometimes he needed a little while to process it on his own. Today, he thought he might as well tell her now though. Sonic had never directly asked for the whole situation, Shadow noticed. Sure, he’d asked at first, but at Shadow’s short response he hadn’t pried further. He just sat with him, spoke to him. And he’d equally appreciated most of that approach too. The hedgehog and bat had their own methods but they were both surprisingly patient. He couldn’t ask for better people to be in his life.
Even if Sonic needed to work on the words he used and how to read a room properly.
“I had a nightmare…” Shadow started.