Work Text:
Purpose was the reason Shadow initially agreed to join the Guardian Unit of Nations (G.U.N.); to find something in his immortal lifespan to dedicate himself to that would serve a purpose to better the world as a whole. That, and one other reason. Currently the latter reason was in bed in the small house the dark hedgehog returned to at the end of the day, the one he dared call home. To him, home was more than shelter, however. It was where he felt the safest, by the side of the one he promised to remain loyal to until the end. He felt content with this life, always the unpredictable one. It was comfortable even within the chaos, much like the job he managed to hold down in the meantime. Slow were some days, while others were grueling and seemingly endless.
Shadow occupied himself in the training bay, a mix of hand-to-hand combat and long-range attacks at mannequin targets behind safety glass. G.U.N. was ever the more working toward technological advancements in weaponry, and because of Shadow’s status as the Ultimate Lifeform, he agreed to assist in testing those weapons. At one point in his life, he may have rejected such an offer that may have seemed to contradict his own moral values, but since joining, he felt that he had been making positive ethical improvements in the organization. And long gone were the days he cared much for how he utilized his power, as long as it were for the good of humanity and mobian kind alike. G.U.N. (mostly) respected him now, both as a person and as a valuable employee, not just a weapon. He had built his way up the ranks until he was trusted enough to be given clearance in knowing where all of the organization’s assets were being used. That knowledge brought some comfort to him.
In the midst of gunfire echoing off the walls of the room, the hedgehog could have sworn he heard a familiar ding, but he brushed it off as his tired mind manifesting a distraction from his work. However, even after the ringing of the spent bullets that rained to the floor died out, he still heard the sound. He broke his laser focus to set the firearm to safe mode and removed one of the noise-cancelling headphones, his ear flicking in the direction of his work bag in the corner. Sure enough, another ping from his cell. He removed the headphones and walked over to his bag, unzipped the front pocket and checked the screen of the phone, curious who was so incessantly messaging him when everyone and anyone he’d ever texted knew not to bother him on shift. The content of the myriad of messages made his stomach churn, however. They were all from Sonic, claiming he was ill and hadn’t moved much since Shadow had left at 5:00 a.m. that morning for work. If it were anyone else, that might not have come as anything serious, but to Shadow, it was urgent. This wasn’t Rouge, or any of his other friends, this was his partner. Sonic the hedgehog did not just lay in bed all day long unless there was something seriously wrong.
Shadow hastily slung his work bag over his shoulder and returned the gun he had been training with to the storage room. His air shoes clanked against metallic stairs as he rushed up to Commander Abraham Tower’s office. He knocked briefly before receiving a hand signal from the older man to enter. His eyes narrowed upon Shadow’s unexpected visit to his office, scrutinizing his demeanor and appearance as if piecing together all of the possibilities for why he was there unannounced.
“Commander,” came Shadow’s deep, gravelly voice cutting the air like a knife with all of the urgency he intended for it to convey.
“Agent Shadow,” Tower began with much less urgency and more confusion.
“Permission to leave early? It is an emergency.” Shadow finished, remaining as calm and professional as possible, hoping that no elaboration was needed to successfully convince Commander Tower to allow his early departure. Wishful thinking, despite the near hopeful pleading narrowing of Shadow’s eyes. That hope began to die as Shadow observed the carefully trained steepling of the Commander’s fingers against his desk and unwavering knitting of his grey brows.
“Emergency?” he parrots. “What kind of emergency requires you to abandon active testing protocol mid-session?”
The question isn’t outwardly accusatory, but doesn’t quell Shadow’s frustration regardless of its tone. Tower trusted Shadow more than most G.U.N. agents, despite their rocky history, but the hedgehog knew that he wouldn’t just bend the rules out of biased flexibility. There needed to be a legitimate cause. What concerned Shadow about being open about the emergency in question was whether or not Commander Tower would also see it as an emergency. He valued his privacy, especially his life with Sonic, more than anything. Sharing that with anyone else felt like a breach of his own values.
The hybrid hedgehog took a deep breath through his nose in preparation to state what might be differing priorities between the two colleagues. He wasn’t one to lie, even if it would protect his own humility.
“My…significant other is ill.” He stated slowly, with measured words as to not expose his romantic connection to Sonic. Even if all of their friends were aware of their relationship, he didn’t feel that G.U.N. should also be privy to that personal information.
For a brief moment, Shadow was ready to fight his position; he wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer on this matter. However, before he could even part his lips to argue, Commander Tower held his communicator to his mouth and relayed a message to the other units.
“Cancel Agent Shadow’s remaining training session today. Clearance granted for emergency leave.”
Those words felt like a sudden weight lifted from Shadow’s shoulders, which apparently was a visible reaction as Commander Tower’s expression seemed to soften in sight of it. His consistent attendance record was to thank for this lenience; Shadow rarely called out or left early unless it was urgent or unavoidable.
Shadow breathed a soft and relieved “thank you” before turning to leave the office, tightening his grip on the strap of his bag and unhooking his motorcycle keys from the zipper. His movements were efficient and urgent, the kind expected from a soldier with a mission.
Then Commander Tower clears his throat right as Shadow steps over the threshold of the door, and he froze. But as he glanced back at the man, he didn’t see any intent in his demeanor that suggested he was changing his mind, just the brief dip of his head and unintrusive words:
“Give your partner my regards.”
Shadow hesitated, then nodded back in silent thanks before departing. In less than a minute, he was clearing the building and in a quick stride to his parked bike.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ Back To You – Timecop1983, The Bad Dreamers . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° .
The front lock of the house clicked on the opposite side of a thick wooden frame, following the cue with light pouring in from the outside. Despite the cloudy forecast, it proved almost a beacon compared to the dark cave that was the living area. The faint flick of the lightswitch, and then the sound of shuffling as Shadow’s air shoes were discarded next to familiar iconic red and white sneakers on the shoe rack by the entrance. He still held a sense of urgency, but not enough to justify walking on their freshly vacuumed carpet with dirty shoes. He did, however, abandon his work bag by the couch along with his keys and initiate a swift march down the dim hallway to where the bedroom door remained slightly ajar, not a single sliver of light pooling from inside. For a moment, it seemed as though the home had been abandoned, but sure enough as Shadow gently nudged the door open further, the lump of his sickly significant other made its presence known beneath a mountain of blankets and pillows. The silence was only occasionally broken by the labored breathing of the blue hedgehog nestled in on himself in a helpless attempt to keep warm. Despite the shivering, Shadow observed the sweat beading on his lover’s royal blue fur, now dulled from a lack of self-care. He couldn’t understand how he had possibly fallen this ill overnight, and how had he not noticed before? Guilt tugged at his subconscious as his mind drifted to the night prior and how content Sonic had been to simply curl up on the couch for a movie after dinner, knowing now that he may as well have been masking his pain through all of it and every little hint Shadow had missed. Some partner he was.
The dark hedgehog finally approached the edge of the mattress and reached over Sonic’s head to feel the space between his ears, hot like a thermal blanket. It was paralyzing to see Sonic of all people this still and silent, and with each effortful breath from his lips sent horrible memories swirling through Shadow’s mind. Between each puff of hot air against his fur, he saw brief glimpses of the past, of Maria on her worst days lying in a hospital bed on the ARK, echoing huffs through oxygen tubes. Unconsciously, his own breathing had accelerated, followed with a sharp exhale as a light, tender pressure against his wrist broke him away from his own mind.
Shadow’s eyes flickered down to meet emerald irises gazing up weakly, and all of the tense muscles in his expression eased. The soft, yet clammy, touch of Sonic’s hand came to meet the paw that rested upon his feverish head. Through his sickly haze, Shadow’s touch broke like the sunlight after a thunderstorm. How he had even gathered enough energy to send Shadow not one, but multiple text messages in succession, baffled the dark hedgehog.
The silence between them stretched on, but not uncomfortably so, until Shadow spoke up in a quiet tone that was easy on Sonic’s overstimulated senses.
“You’re burning up.”
What followed that astute observation should have been expected– that even in Sonic’s severe state, he would find the energy in him to come back with a snarky quip.
“Is that your way of saying you still find me hot?”
There it was, the inevitable sass that came with dating Sonic the hedgehog that did hardly much but send Shadow’s eyes rolling to the back of his skull in affectionate annoyance. Sonic’s weak laugh scraped the back of his throat following the corny question, so raw from congestion that Shadow cringed at the sound of it.
“Very funny,” the ultimate lifeform chided, moving his hand from Sonic’s forehead to the half-full glass of water on the nightstand, barely touched now that it was room temperature.
“Sit up,” he commanded.
Easier said than done.
With a great deal of effort, Sonic pushed himself up as if his body was made of lead, the covers falling away from his body and revealing the severity to which his coat was matted and flattened. Though Sonic had been putting in the effort equivalent to scaling a mountain, it seemed, Shadow’s word left no room for argument. The ill hedgehog finally reached a position that was most comfortable, shifting where his legs were crossed and he faced his partner. The glass of water was instantly thrust into his open and empty paws to take and Shadow watched him lift it up to his mouth to drink. Though he knew that wouldn’t be enough, it was good enough for now. Fighting his stubborn boyfriend to take cough syrup was a later battle he would have to face. His current priority was making sure he was fed dinner and antibiotics.
Shadow briefly stepped into the kitchen where the medicine was kept, all of it for Sonic, of course. When he returned to the bedroom, he switched on the bedside lamp and prepared a few pill capsules and a fresh glass of water.
The soft glow of the lamp chased away the oppressive darkness that did nothing for Sonic’s mood, though he still squinted as he waited for his dilated pupils to shrink. Watching his partner sip the water was almost as painful as it was going to be feeding him medicine. He had already anticipated the nightmare that was going to be long before now, and seeing Sonic’s eyes dart toward the plastic cups, he almost read the silent fear in them.
“One at a time, okay?” Shadow reminded him, starting with the largest one. In his mind, it made sense to get the worst one out of the way first, but Sonic seemed adamant on taking the little ones beforehand. One at a time, he popped a pill into his mouth, drank, and swallowed until the very last one, each one feeling more and more like sandpaper going down his sore throat than the last. For once, Shadow wouldn’t berate him for being immature about taking medicine, not when he was feeling this terrible.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ Heart Worth Breaking – The Midnight . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The taste of thick coated gelatin still left a bitter, chemical aftertaste on Sonic’s tongue even an hour after it had slid down so painfully that he felt as though it was still stuck in his throat. The only thing he had to look forward to at the moment was the mouth-watering smell of Shadow’s cooking wafting past his nose from the kitchen. After the medicine nightmare, Shadow had moved him to the couch wrapped in a blanket with an ice pack on his head. The TV playing afternoon cartoons did little to ease his mind as he drifted in and out of feverish unconsciousness. Part of him wished Shadow would just take him to the emergency room, but he knew his partner didn’t trust hospitals, so he figured it was pointless to even mention.
Sonic’s eyes drifted closed again, only snapping back open the moment a gravelly cough threatened to claw its way up his throat and roar out into an onslaught of hacking. He caught a glimpse of Shadow poking his head out of the kitchen doorway to check on him, but he disappeared once Sonic gave him a half-assed thumbs up. It ached and throbbed to be this tired and congested, way worse than any battle injury he had ever received, burning behind his eyelids as they fought to stay open, only to be temporarily relieved when he tucked himself further into the blanket Shadow lent from his side of the bed. It was plaid with the lingering scent of his boyfriend’s lavender shampoo and remnants of his natural musk clinging to its compacted fibers. It almost distracted him from the thrumming migraine plaguing his head. Almost.
As the kitchen light spilled into the living room, Sonic could hear the rhythmic chopping of Shadow cutting vegetables and stirring them into the pot with care. The aroma was comforting, familiar– a mix of chicken, garlic, and thyme enough to raise Sonic from his half-lain position on the couch and rub at the corners of his eyes with lingering fatigue.
Shadow stepped in front of the television to set down the bowl of soup on the table, then turned back to the kitchen. A few more minutes passed, though Sonic wasn’t sure how long given he had briefly fallen asleep in between Shadow’s trips between rooms. Now sat a mug with steeping tea dancing around the aroma of the chicken noodle soup– lemon and ginger, Sonic deduced. “Good for sore throats,” Shadow had always told him. The steam from the tea curled up in delicate wisps, carrying a sharp citrus-pepper scent, nearly enough to clear the stuffy sinuses of the blue hero.
“It should be cool enough now, if you’re ready to eat.”
Shadow’s deep, smooth and buttery voice broke the quiet of the dim living room, carrying a sense of tenderness that was a rarity of the hedgehog hybrid normally so stoic and guarded. Once upon a younger Sonic, he may have teased him for his softer moments, but he had since learned to shut his mouth and silently appreciate that love and care.
Despite his weakness, Sonic nodded and reached a pair of paws from the confines of the blanket to cup the warm bowl in front of him at his chest level. With careful, shaky hands, he lifted the spoon up to his mouth and took small, measured sips. The pain of his sore throat still stung with every drop of liquid and chunk of vegetable, chicken, and noodle that rolled down the sensitive and raw insides of his throat. Nonetheless, it was delicious. No surprises there.
Once Sonic reached the bottom of the bowl where there wasn’t much left but plain broth, Shadow exchanged the bowl in his hands with the cup of tea.
“Are you nauseous at all?” Shadow asked, keeping his voice to a low murmur.
Sonic gently rubbed his fingertips against the warmed porcelain of the teacup and shook his head in between sips. If anything, he was relieved to have a full belly after hours of laying in bed without food.
Distracted by his blissful drinking, Sonic didn’t see the hand coming to rest on his cheek until he felt it first. Soft, velvety black pawpads of Shadow's gloveless palm rested there carefully. Then it slid up to his temple, then his forehead, flipping over to feel for the progression of his fever. With no verbal response but a quiet huff from a disappointed Shadow, Sonic assumed that it hadn’t gone down much from earlier. He stared at Sonic’s forehead like he was personally offended by the fever refusing to break, and had he not been fatigued by the whole illness, Sonic might have found this reaction funny.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ Caramel – Sleep Token . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
While Sonic’s stomach settled with his dinner and his throat found relief from the warm tea, his partner busied himself in the kitchen once more cleaning the dirty dishes and putting away any extra unused ingredients. Unlike the soft ambience of the home, his mind was anything but a reflection of that peace and quiet. Because despite the temporary relief of his lover, he could still hear that same labored breathing and the lingering sickly sweet scent that clung to his fur from where he stood, and his heart lurched in his chest at the subtle reminders of the condition Sonic rested in.
Shadow soon returned to the living room and shut off the television– Sonic was long since finished watching it since he dozed off again. And believe him, he hated what he was about to do, but Shadow moved his hands into a scooping motion beneath the sleeping blue hedgehog’s body and hauled him up off of the couch and against his chest. The blanket that clung to him was still hanging on for dear life, one corner dragging on the carpet as he carried Sonic to the bathroom. He promised himself that this would be the last time he would force his partner to wake up for the night, just long enough to wash the sweat and grime from his fur and brush his teeth, then he could finally rest without interruption.
The subtle movement of Shadow setting Sonic onto the closed toilet lid must have finally jostled the blue hedgehog awake– well, that and the bright fluorescent lightbulbs that seemed to burn through his retinas. Shadow felt those tired eyes on him as he turned to fill the bathtub with warm water and prepare the soap sponge. Once he dipped his hand beneath the steady stream and determined that it was a comfortable temperature, he shifted his attention back to his partner and helped him stand and step over the wall of the tub. He held onto his arms as he wobbled on unsteady legs and then pushed down gently to lower him into a sitting position once more, all the while Sonic held a death grip on Shadow’s arm. Steam curled up around the impact point of the water and the stream like soft tendrils. The warmth against clammy, sweat-drenched skin and fur did nothing but worsen the feeling, but it was the ideal temperature for removing mats and knots in the fur.
As Shadow reached for the shampoo, he decided on the option with the least potent artificial scent– rainforest, or something like that; it would be less overpowering on Sonic’s sensitive nose at the moment. He continued to lather the natural, woodsy scented soap onto a bath sponge with extra water to dilute it more, just as a precaution. When he felt it was ready, he shifted onto his knees by the tub and began slow, deliberate circular motions in between the back of Sonic’s quills where the worst of the mats resided. He carefully unknotted tangles in quills, occasionally incorporating the slim precision of his claws to reach what the sponge couldn’t. He started with the back of his head and worked his way down his back until it was ready for a rinse.
After a while of kneeling, Shadow repositioned to stand and detach the shower head, using the softest stream possible to rinse the suds from in between Sonic’s quills. The dark hedgehog’s red eyes darted over to check on his partner, only to find Sonic dozing off again. He couldn’t help but let out an amused huff before his attention returned to the task at hand.
The water stream was feather-light, and with the perfect angle of the showerhead, Shadow managed to rinse away the remaining soap and loosen the tense fur in sweeps from crown to nape. Sonic's slightly slumped position with his forehead to his knees made that process easier, whether it was his intention or not. Regardless, the warm water parting the strands of fur and quills on the back of his head helped to lull his sleep-addled mind into a light doze, even as the water cascaded over his quills like a warm summer drizzle. His nose only slightly wrinkled as small drops of water splashed onto it.
Next was the front– arguably the easier and faster part of the process aside from needing to disturb Sonic’s nap to clean his face. First came the top of his head with which Shadow switched from the sponge to his hands when he reached Sonic’s face, fingers circling in clockwise motions, and then moved back to the sponge for his abdomen. Had he been unaware of his partner’s condition, he may have looked like he was simply enjoying a nice massage and not drifting in and out of ill fatigue. Instead of spraying Sonic’s face with the shower head when he was done, Shadow instead used an empty cup to pour over his closed eyes in a gentle brushing of the soap downward. Sonic was quick to follow it up with rubbing the water from his eyes with his hands, but no complaints.
The flow of the water stopped and the remaining drained from the tub, leaving Sonic shivering a little against cold porcelain. Thankfully, Shadow was already a step ahead and wrapping a dry, fluffy towel around the other hedgehog’s shoulders and helping him stand. The motion wasn’t nearly as wobbly or uncoordinated that it had been earlier, Sonic’s legs regaining some strength after being put to use, even if that use was very minute in comparison to his typical everyday.
After seating himself back on the closed toilet lid, Sonic’s eyes traced his partner’s form at the sink, watching him carefully wet and prepare a toothbrush with minty toothpaste. Shadow caught his reluctant and dread-filled gaze with a narrowing of his eyes; he could sense this battle from a mile away.
“Don’t look at me like that. Your breath reeks.”
He watched Sonic’s nose scrunch in distaste, but he didn’t verbalize his complaints, instead looking around the bathroom for an escape route (but ultimately giving up after two seconds).
Shadow knelt by the toilet and held a hand beneath Sonic’s chin, pushing fingers into his jaw to pry his mouth open like one would when giving a house pet medicine. He only loosened his grip and muttered a quiet “sorry” when Sonic whined in discomfort. He released the forceful hold when he realized that his partner was deciding it was a losing battle to be difficult. He watched Sonic’s lips part reluctantly like a petulant child accepting his fate, and then thrust the toothbrush into his mouth, starting in the back and working his way forward with the precision of a man on a mission. It was a strangely domestic scene– two grown hedgehogs past midnight, one playing dentist and one submitting to the tragedy of oral hygiene itself with betrayal in his sad green eyes.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ Who You Run To – The Bad Dreamers . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
This was awful. Dear Gaia, this was terrible. One of Sonic’s least favorite self-care tasks was dental care. He did it anyway because of course he had a reputation to maintain, but it was a daunting chore for him every night. There were many days he decided to skip it altogether, if he remembered. Before he moved in with Shadow, he got away with avoiding it far more often. But Shadow knew; he always knew. He could smell the onion breath from his latest chilidog before he could see the evidence of it. However, Shadow hadn’t always been the least understanding boyfriend. When Sonic explained the sensory nightmare that brushing his teeth was, he started to cater to that discomfort. The rough bristles dragging against the inside of his mouth, the sound like nails on a chalkboard echoing in his head– but he much preferred handheld toothbrushes over electric powered ones. The incessant hum of an electric toothbrush was like having a stubborn mosquito buzzing in Sonic’s ears, and the vibrations against his teeth made them extra sensitive. It was pure torture to him.
A few excruciating minutes later, Shadow pulled his hands away from Sonic’s face to allow him to spit the toothpaste out into the sink, followed by bubblegum mouthwash. (It was for children, but Sonic thought it felt more rewarding to taste than the mint-only options for adults. Seriously, why did only kids get the good flavors??).
With a quick spat, Sonic washed his mouth out vigorously, swishing sweet artificial flavor in his mouth before spitting it out as well and rinsing out the sink. The lingering flavor was a small improvement to the hellish process.
His eyes flicked to Shadow as if to silently ask if he was going to torment him any longer before he could finally lay back down, and to his surprise, Shadow responded by draping the blanket back over him and tugging him down the hallway. Sweet relief. Soon, his sore, expended body would be met with the soft cushions of his familiar bed.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ Bad Dream Baby – September 87 . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
As Shadow helped his partner settle into bed for the night, his ears caught the familiar rumbling outside, the sound of an approaching storm over the horizon. He glanced down at the mass of blue damp fur curling beneath the comforter of the bed below him with fondness shimmering in amber-ringed scarlet eyes. Despite all of the worrying and angst he had mentally tormented himself with over his ill lover, a part of this experience felt far more intimate than he could ever imagine, and that felt somewhat worth it. Not worth the pain Sonic was enduring, to be clear, but worth risking his position with G.U.N., worth letting down walls he would never consider with anyone else, worth letting himself be gentle and caring for the one he loved most. And in all of his self pondering, he had devised a final act of service for the night for his partner.
Carefully maneuvering himself further onto the bed, Shadow closed the distance between himself and Sonic. He didn't fully lay his body down yet, but shifted to spoon the blue hedgehog halfway into his lap, slipping his arms beneath Sonic's, and snaking them around his waist where they rested in warm pressure against his belly. The rattling of the bedroom window alerted one of Sonic's ears in the direction of the sound; this was the perfect first target for Shadow as he quickly moved in to slide his tongue behind the base of the ear. The light touch turned into slower strokes with gentle pressure, leaving Sonic in a blissful state closing his eyes. His low rhythmic purring almost rumbled in time with the thunder outside, sounding more like a little engine running. Shadow’s lips ever so slightly curled up at the corners.
The dark hedgehog’s tongue began a slow descent in swipes down Sonic’s temple, more as a soothing gesture than a cleaning one, one intended to relax his mate and show his affection for him in a way that was so rare for him to do. A small, loving and intimate gesture to send his lover the message that he was safe at home.
The storm finally began to shower down onto the roof of the small and cozy home, each raindrop falling against window sills slow to start, and then picked up in a flurry, like an onslaught of bullets, only without the panic that followed them. Occasional claps of thunder and flashes of lightning sent a jolt through Sonic’s body, but not enough to graze him out of his relaxed fatigue and comfort of being pampered in Shadow’s arms.
Shadow’s ministrations carried from the side of Sonic’s head to the top backside of his quills, untangling the last of his stubborn mats and lingering stiff patches with measured movements that utilized his teeth and tongue– a common grooming technique between hedgehogs in intimate and safe settings. Shadow didn’t initially have these instincts after being raised in a very militaristic environment up until he woke from his stasis; he eventually picked up instincts from being around other mobian hedgehogs, proving that even an artificial being such as himself had the capability of mimicking and adapting to his environment.
Shadow’s grooming was instinctive now—learned not from biology, but from simple observation of mobian culture. The way mobians would nuzzle against one another's coats when they were stressed, how they combed through their own fur with claws to remove dirt and soot, self soothing techniques, and even the little affectionate licks between mobian couples in film. It had taken time for Shadow to adapt– years, even– but caring for Sonic like this now felt so natural like no time at all had passed.
With soft tugs of sharp fangs, Shadow loosened the mats and smoothed them over with his tongue after. The storm outside raged on: rain hammering roof tiles, wind howling in eaves. Inside was another story. Another rumble of thunder roared outside like a monster ready to consume the home, and Shadow could feel Sonic tense in his grip. In one reflexive instinct, he squeezed him against his frame, a silent but telling sign that he was okay. Sonic wasn't necessarily afraid of storms, but in his vulnerable state of illness, the sudden loud noises and bright flashes of light startled him.
Shadow felt a sudden grip to one of his hands, glancing down to identify the source of the contact--Sonic's fingers gripped around his palm, thumb pressing softly into the velvet black surface of his center pawpad. He assumed it was a silent seeking of reassurance. He squished the plush surface again, softly, tenderly. And then pulled Shadow's paw to his face and pressed his lips to his palm, holding it against his cheek, disarming affectionate. His paw remained there curled against the short peach fur of Sonic's cheek, cushioning his flushed face and soaking up the heat of his fever. He squished the center pad again, more rhythmically, thumb pad stroking absently until slowly it began to finally fade out. His breathing was evened, and his eyes fully shut. He listened, for any gap in his breaths, sickly and uneven as they were. Shadow brushed his free palm over his lover's forehead, feeling the heat that radiated in the air hovering over him like a wave. The feeling tugged at him in a way nothing else ever had, knowing he had done all that he could to reduce Sonic's suffering while he was awake.
Shadow eventually slipped from his half-sitting position to sink further into the mattress. He craned his neck to press a lingering kiss to Sonic's temple, and closed his eyes. Whether or not he would actually sleep that night was up for debate– if his mind bothered to allow him to rest when it was plagued by unending what-if scenarios triggered by the constant reminder to every sense that his partner was ill in his arms. The bittersweet scent of sickness clinging to his blue coat, the ragged sound of his uneven, labored breaths, and the sensation of his feverish skin beneath short fur. He wouldn’t sleep, not when he felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility washing over him that it was his job to stay awake and watch over his sleeping lover. Sleep was a luxury he could not afford at the moment. He needed to be awake and alert if at any point Sonic were to wake and need his support, or if there were to be any small change in the pattern of his breathing, any slight shift in his body temperature. That had been the plan, at least.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ I’ll Never Let You Go – urpretty. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The morning followed the night of rain with glowing rays of sunshine breaking through the window blinds on the opposite side of the now-tranquil bedroom. Blinking open were a pair of emerald green eyes, the light catching them at just the right angle so that the inner rings appeared golden. Sonic felt warmth all around him, encasing him as if he were trapped in a cocoon on all sides, half from the sun beating down on him and half from the heat of his boyfriend's body rested beneath him. His nose was met with the soft– albeit slightly ticklish– sensation of Shadow's white tuft of chest fur. The rising and falling of his chest and steady puffs of air from the small gap between his lips were somewhat comforting for waking up with a raging migraine. Shadow was sleeping. That wasn't as much of a surprise to Sonic if it hadn't been for their usual morning routine of the dark hedgehog waking first to make coffee. Instead, he laid here with bags under his eyes, as if he'd only fallen asleep in the recent hour or two. Instead of waking him however, Sonic simply sat up and reached over to grab one of the pill bottles from the nightstand– ibuprofen. He popped two pills into his mouth and washed them down with room temperature water leftover from the night prior. He sunk back down into the mattress and replaced his head on Shadow's chest, closing his eyes again. He would ride this illness out one way or another, but as long as he had someone who supported and loved him the way Shadow did, he knew he would be okay.