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In the middle of a toy store, Shadow stopped dead in his tracks.
He’d been searching for a birthday gift for Cream, only having a vague idea of the kinds of things she liked. All he knew about this kind of thing was what he’d learned from Maria; the toys she’d liked, the clothes she’d worn, the books she’d read. But that was decades ago, in a place vastly different from the way people lived on earth. Rouge had told him to stick with something simple, like dolls or stuffed animals. Those were things Maria had liked as well, so he was already somewhat familiar with such items.
He’d been looking through a section of the store filled with stuffed animals, finding many of them to be strange. He could have sworn stuffed animals used to be softer and less colorful, looking at least somewhat reminiscent of the animals they were based off of. Now, it seemed to be filled with pink and purple plushies made with eyes that were too big and too glittery, or animals that didn’t actually exist. In Shadow’s very honest (but completely unprofessional) opinion, these plushies were absolutely hideous. The only ones that were actually bearable were the Chao plushies, but even those had strange additions to them that real Chao never did, making them look less like high-quality toys and more like defective creations.
He was ready to leave that section and search through the plastic dolls instead when one of the plushies caught his eye. The second he saw it, his lungs stopped working.
It was a stuffed rabbit with white fur, a pink, sewn triangle nose and black eyes. Its long ears fell on either side of its head, brushing its shoulders. It was simple, plain compared to the toys surrounding it. It didn’t have any extravagant accessories, or any additional features that a real rabbit wouldn’t have, like wings or a unicorn-like horn. It looked boring next to the den of colorful overstimulation.
And it was the exact same toy Maria had once owned.
Shadow picked it up entirely against his will, checking its tags. It was designed by a company that created ‘vintage’ toys, and just that one word almost made Shadow laugh. Vintage. Old. To everyone else, this toy was from decades ago. To him, it hadn’t even been two years. It was like finding something he’d lost not too long ago, retrieving it again in the most random of places.
The more he looked at it, the more his eyes burned. The real plushie was still on the ARK somewhere, collecting dust on an old medical bed. Untouched. Unloved. Abandoned for decades after the child that had cared for it ceased to exist.
Like him.
He should set it down. It was too plain, he doubted Cream would like such a toy. Not to mention the fact that she probably had a million rabbit-themed toys already. This would be useless to her.
…But Shadow could keep it with him, just in case he didn’t find anything else. It could be a backup, of sorts.
Heart stuttering for reasons he refused to analyze, he carried the toy with him as he wandered deeper into the store.
Some time passed, looking through the various kinds of dolls. Eventually, he did find something Cream might like. It was a package with a couple dolls, holding an assortment of clothes, and even a small plastic dog. Now that he’d found his real gift, he could go put the rabbit plush back.
He should go put it back… where it would be abandoned amongst the more popular, ‘prettier’ toys.
He walked back through the store, seeing the shelves of plushies right beside his path. He should put the rabbit back. He had no use for it. Cream wouldn’t want it, and he certainly didn’t need it.
He had to put it back.
***
The plushie was sitting in the bottom of his closet.
He shouldn’t have bought it. He had no need for something so frivolous. He wasn’t a child.
With Rouge’s assistance, he wrapped the dolls up in colorful paper for Cream, shoving the present somewhere in his room until the day of Cream’s party.
When the sun finally set, the sky slowly melting from bright shades of orange and purple to darker blues and black, he sank down into the middle of his empty bed, decorated only by two pillows and a patternless gray comforter.
Sleep never came easy to him, making every night a struggle between stress and nightmares, but tonight seemed even worse than usual.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the plushie.
He felt so foolish for it. He was the Ultimate Lifeform, a living weapon that could survive and fight under the worst conditions. He didn’t need anything; certainly not a toy.
He wasn’t created for softness. His very nature meant the destruction of all things fragile. His claws would rip the toy’s fabric, his energy would disintegrate it, his strength would tear it apart entirely on accident. He didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t have bought it.
He shifted in bed, trying to push the image of the toy out of his mind. It wasn’t working, only leaving him frustrated at the extra distraction keeping him awake.
He glanced toward his closet, biting his lip. He felt his chest tighten with embarrassment, fearing what Rouge or Omega would say if they caught him with the rabbit. They already teased him relentlessly over anything they could get away with; he could only imagine the endless humiliation that would come from the toy being discovered.
That should have been enough to deter him from grabbing it. That should have convinced him to return it, or pass it off as a gift for someone else.
Instead, his already fragile will shattered. He slid out of bed and padded over to his closet, outstretched paw hesitating when he saw his sharpened claws so close to the toy. He grabbed it carefully, like it would fall apart if he dared move too quickly.
He brought the toy back to his bed, setting it down before climbing back into his spot, still warm from how long he’d tried and failed to sleep.
He turned onto his side, staring at the plushie. It really did look exactly like Maria’s, just… cleaner. The fur on hers had been a little discolored and flattened from years spent being held, but this one was still fluffy and soft. It held an inhuman, almost sterile scent that was too subtle for a human’s nose to pick up on.
Shakily, he placed a single paw on one of the plushie’s arms, running his paw pads over the soft fur. Something deep inside him ached, making it hard to breathe. He shouldn’t feel like this. It was just a toy.
If he were stronger, he would have shoved the thing under his bed and gone to sleep. Instead, he found himself curling up closer to the plushie, gingerly pulling it to his chest and wrapping his arms around it, the same way Maria used to do to him.
His vision blurred, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip to lock away all noises that wanted to slip from his throat, tasting metal when his flesh gave way under his fangs.
It wasn’t the first time something nonsensical had pushed him to tears, reminded of a life long since faded. But to be alone in his room, hidden away in the one place that was meant to be safe and still being dragged into memories of the past, added another layer of misery to these tears.
He didn’t know why he bought the rabbit. Maybe he’d been desperate for that piece of his old life back, as painful and dehumanizing as that life had been, or maybe he’d just wanted the physical reminder of his former safe place, hidden away in Maria’s room, surrounded by stuffed animals and medical equipment as they spent hours talking about anything, or reading to each other, or just silently watching the stars together.
Having a piece of that life back didn’t feel comforting. It did nothing to fill the permanent hole in his chest, ripped open in the same spot his sister’s love used to reside. It became its own form of torment, a ghost screaming at him, punishing him for failing so spectacularly that the only remainder of his old life was a lifeless replica of something that used to feel safe. Something that used to feel like home.
He ruined the rabbit’s fur with his tears, tainting it, like he did with everything he dared to hold dear. In the morning, when he woke up, he shoved the rabbit back into his closet, silently vowing to never take it out again, to never let himself crumble over something so weak again.
And when he took the rabbit out the very next night, burning with shame, he knew that he was even weaker than the soft fabric clutched in his paws.