Chapter 1: bliss, buoying blood
Summary:
Something, no someONE, awakens.
Notes:
title from euphor - novo amor, lowswimmer
EDIT 3/21/25: added chapter descriptions! new chapters will be posted with them
Chapter Text
It floated weightlessly in the suspension tank.
Emerald green liquid lapped at every surface of its body, overwhelming its small figure in a confining hold. Trapped in an ocean of endless black, drifting softly with every shift in the current, mind entirely blank.
Nothing existed, nothing faded. It was nothing here, compelled to simply be by the restrictions of the tank. A liminal space between states of being, a constant void of existence, null in the grand scope of the universe.
Its nose quivered, feeling the weight of the water shove against every crevice in an almost overwhelming grasp, forcing its way down the little thing’s throat. It jerked, tempted to disobey the heavy command of the liquid, to go beyond the vast and empty chasm of its confinement, but it’s movements were quelled once more. The being stilled anew, returning to the dull nothingness of before, longing for the thrill of awakening.
It’s been happening more recently. There were moments where the being almost felt alive, almost felt capable of moving beyond its captive prison, only to have it ripped from its grasp seconds later. Momentary glimpses of control were all it was afforded, flashes of conscious assertiveness amid a sea of restraint.
Only this time, something was different. There was a gentle mechanical hum that filled its ears, a rhythmic tapping that caused its face to scrunch up due to disorientation, a new sensation that was quite peculiar and foreign. Well, technically everything was foreign and new, it thinks.
It thinks.
It thinks. The marvel of conscious thought floated through its brain, and for the first time, the muddy waters surrounding its mind cleared. It wasn’t a thing, it was alive. It was breathing, it was sentient, it could have thoughts and emotions and feelings and that was new!
A loud hiss from above startled it from its thoughts, making it shift slowly in the thick liquid. The pool surrounding it pulsed, forcing its body to sway much more heavily than before, bobbing up and down in oscillating patterns. The pressure around its ears slowly descended as it floated down towards the bottom of the tank. Soft, padded paws met the cold surface of metal beneath it as the surrounding liquid drained, exposing its body to cool, recycled air for the very first time.
Without the weightlessness of the water to hold it up, the being wobbled and went down with the liquid, shivering from the air on its wet fur. It’s teeth chattered as the green material eventually faded completely, and the being took a great, deep breath of air and—
—almost choked. True oxygen filled its lungs, not the oxidized liquid, and the change was so abrupt and strange and yet it left the being feeling awfully awake. There were the muted and scattered noises it would occasionally hear in the tank, but these noises were present and much, much louder. The being’s ear twitched with the incoming sounds, instinctually moving in the direction they came from. A faint ringing ebbed and flowed within its ears, and the being blinked and shook its head to shake the remaining liquid from inside its ear canal.
A loud tap on the tank startled it once more, and the being opened his eyes, scrunching its nose as it adjusted to the harsh lighting. There were figures dancing across its blurry vision, all adorned in white and looking curiously back at it. It blinked a few times, once again accustoming itself to living without the surrounding pressure of the green liquid.
“Project Shadow, do you understand us?” It heard a deep voice ring out through the tank. Were the figures referring to itself?
The being, or Project Shadow, blinked, staring at the figures with burning curiosity. How could it make those noises? How did it reply? Project Shadow held out a single padded hand, pressing it against the glass lining the tank in a feeble attempt to communicate.
“Joanna, tap the glass, please. Show him how to tap it.”
A smaller one of the figures in white approached its tank, shaking their hand at it. It didn’t understand, but watched as they held out a single finger and gently thrummed their nail against the glass. A ringing sound filled its tank, and the being rushed to replicate the sound, looking up each time as the noise reverberated around its tank.
“Project Shadow, please tap once if you understand us.”
Yes, it understood. So it should tap the glass. So it did tap the glass, and judging by how the figures in white erupted in noise once it did tap the glass, Project Shadow assumed that that was the right answer. It understood! It thinks!
“Are you capable of speech, Project Shadow?”
It titled its head, confused. Should it tap the glass again? It didn’t know what some of those words meant, but it wanted to make the figures happy. It tapped the glass again, awaiting the elated response, and dimmed slightly when none rejoiced.
“Perhaps, that was the wrong question. You can understand us, which is astounding. What I’m doing right now is talking, I’m speaking to you. We want you to do the same.” The figure pointed to their mouth, gesturing it do the same.
It glanced down, not seeing its mouth. The hand not raised to the glass felt beneath its nose, meeting teeth and tongue. It licked its finger, nose scrunching up at the bitter and lingering taste of the liquid. Project Shadow paused, puzzled at how to push the sound through its mouth. It’s tongue felt heavy, but the figure in white moved it slightly. It drew in a deep breath and hummed, feeling the vibrations in its chest tumble around the tank.
It hummed some more, testing the waters to move its tongue while vibrating and a muffled and muted sound bounced its way out, shocking the little thing.
“Eee!”
“Can you say Shadow?”
“S..a..duh..wuh..” The attempt at words took more effort than it had originally thought, its mouth slurring with the unfamiliarity of the motions.
The white figure that was speaking to him gave a hearty chuckle, calling out to its fellow figures with a smile. “It’s a start! We'll have to read up on linguistics to properly teach him, but it's a magnificent and promising start. Now! The real question remains…Robert, if you would.”
A different kind of hiss sounded from above and Project Shadow looked up, as steam released from inside its tank and dispersed into the open air. The glass that it’s hand rested on shifted, moved, and finally swung violently away from it, startling it and cradling the paw to its chest. Its noticeably very fluffy chest, now that it was really looking at itself. It was almost all black, besides the tuft of white peeking out from beneath its head and the striking lines of red that ran down the length of its limbs.
It glanced back up as the figures approached, cocking its head to the side. A hand reached out to him and Project Shadow flinched back, though only for a few seconds. The figures in white continued to talk around it.
“Careful now, don’t startle him. We need him relaxed for this.”
“Professor, shouldn’t we be a little cautious? We don’t know what he’s capable of yet.”
“The little thing doesn’t seem malicious, my boy. He’s awfully cute, isn’t he? Like a little puppy. Maria is going to fawn over him when she sees.”
“A puppy infused with chaos energy, sir?”
“Yes, that does sound right. If we weren’t successful, perhaps he could be a noble pet for her. A service animal, if you will. Her condition is only going to deteriorate and deep pressure therapy has been known to improve patient lives. Never mind that, though. I have reason to believe he will be everything we dreamed him to be.”
The figure nearest to it kneeled down to its level and tilted its mouth into a smile. The harsh lighting from above obscured their eyes from Shadow’s view, blurred and faded and distorted and strange.
“Hmm?”
“Why hello there, Shadow. Let’s get you out of here, shall we?” And this figure took their hands, wrapped them around Shadow’s body, and lifted, chuckling as yet another squeak erupted from it. Little Shadow was moved away from the confines of its tank, the only place it had ever known.
Gone was the nothingness. Gone was the emptiness. Gone was the floating. Shadow’s mind was full of thoughts and of those thoughts, the tank held precedence.
Why had it been in the tank? Will it go back to the tank? Why is it here?
Why is it alive?
It was placed on a cool, metal surface and Shadow winced as yet another uncomfortable shiver racked through its small body. The metal burned cooly beneath its fur, uncomfortable and new and strange. Its muzzle curled up in a cringe, staring curiously at the array of strange figures in white.
“Just a small incision for now, something that won’t bleed too much.”
It felt a strange intrusion against its leg, as something hard pressed deep, deep, too deep and—!
Shadow yelped pathetically as the object pressed and dragged against its skin in a thin line, leaving a trail of red liquid behind. Tears pooled in the corner of its eyes, heart racing and willing its legs to move away from the bad feeling. It was no use, for strong hands held it down, ignoring his huffs and squeaks, ignoring his squeals and cries, ignoring him. Ignoring him! It was a him!
“Look! It clotted immediately! Here, hand me a wipe, would you?”
“Marvelous!”
“Revolutionary!”
Shadow pulled and pulled and pulled and yet he was still held down. He squirmed and tears ran down his tiny cheeks, sniffling and yelping, and why were they ignoring him? Why was he hurting?
“A bigger one now, try to hit a vein in the wrist.”
“Isn’t that a bit much?”
“We have the means to heal him if it is, both G.U.N and I want results. They are being quite lenient with the funding and I’m not letting that go to waste. Running this place isn’t cheap by any means, but if Shadow is perfected, he’ll be practically priceless. Robert, commence with the incision.”
The sharp object that hurt him was moved away from Shadow’s thighs, and the small creature felt a momentary sense of relief, only for it to turn to dread when the object pressed against his thin wrist. He struggled again against the restraints, seeing a hand next to him and reflectively lunging with his teeth.
He missed, naturally, as new hands joined the ones from before, holding him down with such a force he felt his body ache from the pain. Then, the sharp object dragged against his arm, tearing another rasp cry from his throat as more tears puddled beneath him. His high pitched whines were entirely dismissed, as the figures clasped all around him, eager for their own view of the pitiful sight. Warm, thick blood poured down, almost entirely blending into the crimson stripes of his body.
“Shadow, you’re going to save so many lives.” The voices above murmured. “This will revolutionize medicine!”
“Cancer treatments!”
“Heart disease!”
The voices above him cried with elation. Shadow, beneath them, cried in agony.
“Let’s not overwhelm him, give him the sedative, that’ll give us enough time to sort out his new home.”
A small flare of pain in his leg made Shadow flinch, and he kicked and huffed out of instinct. Yet the hands still held him firmly in their grasp, and Shadow found that his kicks were suddenly losing their potency, his limbs felt heavy. It was as if he were returning to the tank, to the empty weightless drifting of the water. As his eyes closed, Shadow saw the most prominent figure, the one who had been directly speaking to him, the one with glasses that glinted in the sterile light, obscuring their eyes from view. The world around crawled to a standstill, and he could suddenly no longer think.
This emptiness was different, however. It was a mere mockery of his tank, holding the absolution of relief above his head, teasing him.
“Welcome to the world, Shadow. You are going to be of such great use.”
Fifty three years later, Shadow the Hedgehog opened his eyes and held his breath, longing for the emptiness and nothing that was his suspension tank.
Small, almost invisible droplets of tears gathered in those blood-like, crimson eyes. His hands trembled and gathered the wrinkled sheets beneath him, staring blankly at the ceiling. His heart thundered his chest, a burning reminder that he was alive.
From here, he could count the small cracks in the popcorn ceiling, try some of those breathing exercises Rouge had taught him, or even just go back to sleep. But he would never be able to stop thinking. His mind raced at a level unparalleled by any other being, a galaxy of thoughts pounding through his head.
A great portion of those thoughts were questions, doomed to be forever unanswered. Questions like why?
Why was he created? To be the Ultimate Lifeform?
Why did they have to hurt him to get to that point?
Shadow’s been living for three years among those like him, other Mobians. He realized very quickly that his upbringing was most unnatural. Everything he was taught was wrong, and it was not normal to treat a person, a Mobian, like that.
Like an animal. A feral animal, locked in a cage with a muzzle. An animal that needed to be restrained, to be disciplined. An animal who was better seen and used and never heard.
The hand gripping his sheets dug further in, his claws suddenly springing out from beneath his soft padded paws, ripping tiny holes in the cloth below.
His thoughts spiraled once more to the biggest question that will forever remain elusive; Did they intend to make a cure, a weapon, or a toy?
It didn’t matter in the end. Shadow has experience being all three.
Chapter 2: chained to this place / my special girl
Summary:
A chance encounter.
A fateful greeting.
Notes:
let me sprinkle some food for y’all
today my semester officially starts back up, but i’m only taking two classes this time around, but i will be working again to fill in the gaps, so updates might be a little longer than i had planned but i got this story figured it out
happy reading!
chapter titles:
the unknown - peach tinted
juliet - cavetown
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Life with Rouge and Omega was difficult at first. Well, living with Omega was going to be difficult regardless, it’s insane how a robot continues to be more high maintenance than either of them combined. It’s really living with Rouge that sets Shadow’s nerves alight.
Despite her work in espionage, despite her killer beauty, she was so strangely normal and Shadow couldn't figure out how to deal with it. The manner in which she rose every morning without a care in the world was completely foreign to him. His own heart raced fighting sleep, one would think he’d just ran a marathon. But not Rouge. Everything came so comfortably for her, so much so that he was hoping she would snap, that she would prove that her kindness hadn’t been genuine and she would berate him like the animal he was. And still, nothing of the sort.
She would talk to him in the mornings, commenting on odd things like the weather, and the local sports team, or something else mundane to fill in the awkward gap in their lives. It was too domestic, too natural. She treated him like a person.
The only one who’d ever done that before was lost to the stars.
It had taken more than a few months for him to even say a couple words back in greeting. The first time he had muttered a faint, “Good morning,” to her, she whipped around, wings flared out defensively, looking as if lightning had suddenly struck nearby. Then, just as a cooly, retracted her sharp wings and echoed his reply back. He was mute for the rest of the morning, but Rouge understood all too well.
Stepping stones. That’s all it was.
Muffled greetings became questions which quickly turned into full on conversations, and Shadow eventually found himself buying into the idea that he could be normal like this. Living simply with Rouge and Omega, drowning his sorrows into his morning cup of coffee.
Life was not kind like that, however. He knew his limits, and so did G.U.N.
It was questionable how he came to work for them. Well, work is a loose term. Contracted was the better word. Legally binded for employment. Indefinitely.
After his supposed death and subsequent reanimation, G.U.N sought him out, aggressively he may add.
To put it bluntly, they locked him up.
The details are fuzzy but after all the near world ending events, quite a few countries wanted him put behind bars or worse, expelled (Omega begged him to stay for team movie night one too many times, Shadow swears).
In all seriousness, a few delegations wanted him executed. But he was of no use dead, so G.U.N stepped in to offer a deal.
In exchange for his ‘freedom’, Shadow was forced to sign a lengthy contract with the agency. He assumed they thought his skill set would be of great use to their cause and eager to get out the chains, he reluctantly accepted their terms. But Shadow saw through the contract’s facade, he knew what it truly was.
A leash.
G.U.N would rather face the political wrath of the international community than willingly give up their favorite lapdog, and Shadow was powerless to disobey. G.U.N let him exist, never mind the fact it was in bondage.
That was his salary.
They provided this apartment. The food in the fridge, every basic piece of furniture, every appliance. Courtesy of G.U.N, on behalf of Team Dark. But Rouge and Omega were oblivious to the ties holding him to the agency.
Rouge certainly knew her worth and was paid quite well, even Omega had a monthly stipend. But not Shadow.
It wasn’t as if he was worthy of it anyway.
Rouge was normal and Omega was…well, Omega, and Shadow would never fit into the pristine picture perfect team dynamic they shared. He’s honestly shocked he’s hid the fact that he is damaged for so long. Years of pretending, years of ignoring his true colors. He’s such a fraud.
And yet he comes to love Rouge and Omega despite the fact.
It snuck up on him one morning. They had been playing their usual morning spiel of muttered greetings and useless conversation before work, when Shadow had suddenly turned to Rouge, and whispered, “I care for you.”
She had blinked, a smug little smile on her pretty face and replied, “Oh, do you now? Lucky for you, handsome, I’ve cared about you this whole time. Glad to see you finally got the message.”
“AFFECTION IS NORMALLY IRRELEVANT, BUT YOU TWO ARE MY FAVORITE FLESH PUPPETS,” Omega had chimed in, abrupt as usual.
And that had been that. Shadow had a team. Individuals he could actually depend on, and individuals whose company he could enjoy. It hadn’t been a smooth few years, but it’s been a hell of a lot better than it could have been.
Which brings him to today.
Rouge tsked, running her eyes up and down the letter they had received in the mail. “G.U.N medical evaluations are happening again, I know how pissy you get with them.”
Shadow stared into his coffee, fists clenching into his thighs. “I’ll talk to Tower. He’s already on my ass about it.”
Rouge gave an expression that portrayed she didn’t exactly believe him. There were only a few moments of silence between them before she sighed and began speaking once more.
“Hun, you can’t avoid this. Just get it over with and you’re done for another year.” Her hands were thrown up in exasperation.
Slamming his fist on the counter, he growled and shouted, “What’s the point? I don’t age, I can’t get sick, and there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“You’re going,” she said, arms crossed and glaring at him from across the kitchen counter.
“I'm not.”
“You’ll face disciplinary action.”
His nose twitched at those words and Shadow couldn’t help the hearty swallow that followed. He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible when he barked, “I don’t care.”
“What if you were to come in with me? We could do it side by side,” Rouge offered, leaning over the counter now, holding her head up with her hands.
“Patient confidentiality laws would prohibit that.”
“We could ask? They’re pretty lenient on me.”
“Not. Happening.”
She scoffed, and turned around, rummaging through the fridge and replying, “Ok, you’re being a little difficult, but what if the same doctor clears us? That way I could go first and tell you how compassionate and professional they were?”
A bright red apple was now in her hands and the soft crunch of her subsequent bite flooded through the small kitchen. His ears flicked at the sound.
“Rouge, I’m not going.”
“Suit yourself, I guess,” she shrugged before checking her phone and groaning. “It’s Wednesday, you lucky son of a bitch. Why don’t you go for a run, take your mind off things? Get yourself fresh air, you look like you're halfway in the grave at this point.”
The robot in the corner chirped angrily, “SHADOW’S DAY OFF USUALLY MEANS PAPERWORK. I WANT TO MAIM.”
“You maim on Saturdays, Omega.” Rouge had her head in her hands.
Shadow huffed, swiping his pathetic mug and placing it in the sink carelessly, turning on his heel. He fumbles for a minute through his quills, grasping the emerald that lay snug inside them, before warping outside, leaving the rest of his team in a flash.
Fresh air abruptly filled his nostrils as he took in the surrounding atmosphere. It was still chilled from the night, though the subtle warmth of the sun peeking through the clouds was almost like a soft hand atop his shoulders. It wasn’t the stifling hands he had grown accustomed to, it was innocent and loving and just enough to welcome him to the new dawn. Shadow’s breath hitched as another wave of fury rolled through him.
He’d rather die than go through another medical clearance. He’d rather take a bullet through his skull than sit and watch and tremble as those hands took whatever it wanted from him. More than fifty years had passed and nothing had changed.
Shadow grit his teeth, firing up his hover skates and blasting off into the foliage, leaving a flash of gold in his wake.
Stop thinking. Just stop thinking.
He grunted, as visions of memories overwhelmed him. Far too many hands reaching for him, touching him, taking him, holding him down, forcing him down. He gasped and pushed himself further, impossibly fast weaving in and through trees and bushes, past meadows and lakes. The city in the distance was invisible to him, the faraway honks of morning traffic inaudible to his ears.
Voices filled his head instead, all too familiar and all too painful. Harsh yelling, derisive chuckles, and sickening throaty moans. His claws dug themselves into his fist as he pushed himself even further.
Stop. Thinking.
A soft, angelic voice floated above the others. He saw the great view of the Earth from above as soft hands, gentle hands took him in their arms. Her arms.
STOP. THINKING.
He saw visions of his blood, dripping down from open wounds, watching it stain the metal floors. Hundreds of mice in cages, watching him, leering at him. At the end of the day, he was no better than them. Caged, mutilated, used.
The adrenaline rushing through him peaked as Shadow pushed himself to the absolute limit, breaking the sound barrier as the world flew by at indescribable speeds. He didn’t notice the trees, the birds, or the clouds.
Nor he did not notice the quickly approaching flash of blue, heading straight for his direction.
Neither of them did, actually, until it was far too late for either of them to pump the brakes.
“Watch out!”
Shadow felt before he heard it as something collided with his forehead, sending him crashing to the ground, leaving a large crater in the earth. The surrounding trees rattled with the force of the impact and an uncomfortable ringing floated through his ears.
Stars filled vision and not the ones he’d stared at in the sky with her. Not the ones he’d longed to be a part of, simply existing. No, it was the stars he’d see as his body was thrown carelessly into walls, onto tables, onto any physical surface they could find.
“…Woah… okay? …don’t look so…Shads.”
The world turned black and his thoughts were no more.
The humans were leading him somewhere new today.
Before, he’d only been in two rooms: the sterile laboratory with his suspension tank, and an empty room with only a single cushion.
He didn’t like the cushion room. It was cold and nothing spoke to him there. The cushion was rough and did little to provide him warmth. Shadow also didn’t like how they dimmed the lights and locked him inside, leaving him for hours at a time. He often spent the time pacing, looking at every corner for something new, straining his eyes against the dark, practicing new words. Eventually, he would tire out and attempt to rest, but it was difficult to simulate the nothingness of his tank.
But today was different. He was stumbling along, shivering as his bare padded feet thumped cautiously behind the lead scientist, glancing at every spectacular new thing he came across. His legs were still a bit unsteady, but with each passing day came new unfounded strength. And as his strength increased, so too did his speech capabilities.
Right now, he was practicing colors. They were the easiest to remember and had fairly simple pronunciations.
“Grey!” He would point at a wall, looking at Gerald, the scientist, expectantly, a shy smile on his face.
“Yes, Shadow. That is the color grey.”
“White?”
“My lab coat is white, yes.”
“Back?” He would point to himself.
“Black . Try it.”
“B…lack.”
“Very good.”
“Good?”
Shadow found he liked it best when he did something good. The words of encouragement and praise were fuel for his little body, and so he sought to make himself as useful as possible. They liked to use his body, taking his blood, his spit. Cutting him open and watching him sew himself together again. It hurt, it always did, but he was praised so beautifully afterward, surely it made it all worth it?
Talking was getting easier with every passing day. He picked up the sounds with great aptitude, and had even begun to learn letters and connect them with the sounds! He liked reading very much.
But, again, today was different. They were walking past the cushion room, past doors he’d only seen and never entered, to a whole new wing of doors.
Gerald stopped in front of a painted door, the color calm and gentle, with little flowers scattered around it. (“Blue?” He had asked, pointing to the door. Gerald chuckled and kneeled down to his level.)
“Today is a very special day, Shadow. Please, listen carefully.”
He looked at Gerald with raptured attention, ready to be good, ready to be of use.
“On the other side of this door is my granddaughter. She is very sick and needs help. You were created to help her, that is your main purpose. The key to the cure is locked within your genetic code, which is why we must extract it from you.”
Shadow blinked, watching as Gerald tapped his fluff-filled chest with those words. His eyes were wide, soaking the information in as best as he possibly could.
“I’d like you to meet her. It’s her birthday today, and she has been asking about you. Shadow, Maria is my whole world. I ask that you keep her safe and heal her.”
Keep safe. Heal. Shadow was not sure how to do things, but it was his task. He would do his very best, and make Gerald happy!
A hand was placed under Shadow’s chin, forcing him to glance up at the older man. His eyes were once more obscured by the glare from his glasses. “Now then, would you like to meet her?”
“Yes!” He said excitedly, practically bouncing in place.
Gerald swiped a key card and it beeped until the light turned green. The door swung open to reveal a young girl’s bedroom, with fairy lights and blankets and drawings adorning the walls.
In the center of the room was a bed, with the body of a young girl. Next to her were a slightly wilted bouquet of roses and an infusion stand, connected to the girl through a thin tube which disappeared under the blankets. She glanced up from the book she was reading, squinting before lighting up as soon as she saw who it was.
“Is that him?” She spoke, her sweet voice angelic and calming. None of the other scientists had spoken with such a soft tone.
“Yes, my dear. Shadow, go on, say hello.”
He was gently pushed to the bed to the girl with stars in her great blue eyes. She was beautiful, sitting on the bed with her golden hair adorning her head like a halo. All that was missing was the wings and she’d be a perfect angel.
“Hello, Shadow. My name is Maria.”
“Ma-ree-uh?” He attempted.
Maria nodded enthusiastically, clapping her hands together.
Gerald chuckled and said, “Give him some time, my dear. He’s still learning how to speak.”
Maria held out her hand and Shadow glanced curiously at it before grasping it. It was awfully pale atop his dark padded claws, slender and with the smallest hint of pink. Maria patted the area next to her on the bed with her spare hand, waving him over. “Come here! You look so soft, Shadow!”
He stood there for a few seconds before hands reached around his waist and hoisted him up onto the bed with a hesitant squeak. He was instantly pulled into an embrace as Maria continued to lovingly squeeze him.
“You are so cute! We’re going to be best friends, I reckon!”
“Cute!” He cooed back, echoing her words and giggling as Maria’s mouth fell open.
“And he’s a Quick learner!”
“He still has a little while until he’s fully grown. The tank was only to simulate gestation. Much like an infant, outside development is necessary for his larger well being,” Gerald spoke again, patting Shadow’s head fondly.
“So he's just a baby.”
Shadow liked her. He had only spent a few minutes with this girl and she had instantly become his favorite human.
A high pitched ding that made him jump erupted from behind Shadow and he pushed himself further into Maria’s arms, nuzzling into the fabric of her sleep shirt. Gerald gave a noise of dissatisfaction as he sighed and stood up from the bed.
“Oh, dear. Maria, I’m afraid this meeting will have to be cut short. I’m needed in the conference room.”
Shadow whined, holding onto the girl, and looking to his creator with fear. He did not want to leave the warmth of her arms to go back to the cushion room. Maria seemed to have understood his unease as she urgently began pleading.
“Is Shadow needed? Can he stay here? I’ll watch him. Pretty please, grandfather?” She batted her eyes, hugging Shadow as one hugs a stuffed bear.
Gerald hesitated, glancing between Shadow and the door, but ultimately sighing. “Well, I can’t say no to that face now, can I? I’ll let it slide for your birthday.”
Her face lit up, her cheeks a bright rosy red. “Thank you! Shadow, can you say thank you?”
He cocked his head to the side and attempted a small, “Tank?”
“Eh, close enough.”
Gerald smiled fondly at his granddaughter before turning his gaze to the small hedgehog in her arms.
“Shadow, best behavior. I’ll send the younger Tower up here as well.”
Maria made a face but quickly smiled once she noticed Shadow staring curiously at her.
“Abe is a little difficult at first, but he’s somewhat nice, I promise.”
A few minutes later and the door whisked open once more, only it wasn’t Gerald’s form in the door. It was a young boy, slightly smaller than Maria herself. He had a gruff expression on his face that contained two different colored eyes; one a bright amber, the other one a deep green.
Upon noticing Shadow, the boy’s frown deepened, shouting, “What is it doing here?”
“Shadow’s not an it, Abe. And he is sitting right here, you know. He’s still learning, don’t be mean to him.
“It’s a freak is what it is. Look at it. It’s disgusting.”
Oh, Shadow knew that word. He had never attempted to say it before, but he knew exactly what the definition was. Slightly discouraged, he whispered, “D-Dis…”
But Maria halted his words with a single press of her finger to his lips. “Abe, stop. Shadow, you’re not disgusting. I think you’re wonderful.” The absolute sincerity in her words made his heart rate soar, and he couldn’t help the following wag of his tail.
Abraham thumped by the bed, looking utterly bored. “So, you’re still sick?”
“Abe, you know my condition’s intensity comes and goes. I have no control over it.” Her hand was gently running over his quills now.
“Still, it just sucks you can’t do anything on your own birthday. Your grandfather didn’t even do anything.” He seemed more upset that he didn't get to do anything, Shadow noticed with a small blink.
“That’s not true, he works very hard to keep this place running and manage my condition. And besides, he brought me Shadow! That’s plenty enough for me.”
Abraham scoffed and growled out, “I wouldn’t trust something like that near you alone, what is he, an idiot?”
“Green? Yellow?” Shadow pointed to the boy's eyes, trying to smile and make the boy happy. The boy caught his eye, but he did not receive an elated response in return. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“Stop looking at me, freak!” And the boy stood up to shove Shadow harshly into Maria’s chest. Shadow whimpered and cowered and tears sprang to his eyes again, but the girl held him in arms until the fear seeped away.
“Abe, stop! Just leave us, if you don’t like him. That was incredibly rude, he was trying to make you happy!” Despite the volume of her voice, it never failed to carry that sweet and angelic tone.
“Ugh, fine. You’re so difficult!” And the boy stormed off with loud thumping footsteps that reverberated through the halls, even after the door had closed.
“Mad?” Shadow whispered, nose pushed into the crook of her neck. He felt the soft press of lips to his forehead as her gentle voice rumbled above him.
“He’s always like that, Shadow. It’s alright. I think he’s jealous that I prefer the company of someone else. Don’t take anything he says to heart, I think you deserve the world.”
“You awake? Blacked out there for a second. Dude, where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in close to three months. I was hoping we would run into each other eventually, but I didn’t mean it literally!”
Shadow groaned and rubbed his head, soothing the forming bruise from the impact. Sonic’s graining and high pitched chatter was helping in the slightest. “None of your business, hedgehog.”
Sonic was kneeled over him, quills slightly rattled but looking no worse for wear. It seems Shadow must have taken the brunt of the hit. “G.U.N ever give you a break?”
“Classified.”
Sonic scoffed, “Oh, come on, Shads! Here, I know what’ll cheer you up! How ‘bout a race, like old times?”
Shadow raised a brow, eyeing the other hedgehog up and down, feeling the headache slowly dissipating with each passing second. “Old times? You claim to know me that well?”
Sonic shrugged, getting to his feet and bouncing on his toes. His eyes glinted dangerously, the spark of competitive fervor familiar to both of them. “Come on, unless you’re too scared? Didn’t think the Ultimate Lifeform would chicken out on me, but I guess he’s too afraid to lose.”
“As if. You’re on.” He nodded to Sonic, kicking his hover skates into action. “On your mark.”
“Oh, yeah! Ready? Loop around the city and end at the big oak tree, got it?” He gave a finger salute and crouched down low, ready to take off at a moment's notice and raising his arm high in the air.
“Understood. You’re going down, hedgehog.”
“In your dreams, Faker!”
And with a drop of his arm, Sonic was off and Shadow was racing after him, the thrill of the chase lighting through his veins. Running with Sonic was nothing short of exhilarating. It was a momentary lapse of the surrounding world, slight relief in an overwhelming chasm. He could be free with Sonic.
It was a worthy and a hearty distraction. One he had been neglecting all too much recently.
Their race was a quick one, albeit an intense fight. While cross country wasn’t exactly a contact sport, their amalgamation of racing was prone to them throwing punches, kicks, even bites if either got close enough. Shadow’s punches often knocked Sonic down, but he would get right back to deliver an intense kick from those strong legs. It was almost akin to a waltz, in a brutalist and very aggressive fashion.
As the oak tree loomed ever closer, the hedgehogs soared up the hill, skidding to a halt as dirt kicked up, leaving the air covered in a thick layer of dust. After the dust had cleared, each staring at their sweaty counterpart, they chuckled to each other and thumped to the grass below.
“I totally won that. thank you very much,” exclaimed Sonic on his back, hand over his stomach as he tried to calm his frantic breathing.
Shadow, next to him, was heaving similarly, but snorted at the other’s words. “Oh, should we ask the crowd? I believe it was I who won, hedgehog.”
“Ha! Like that’ll ever happen,” said Sonic, gazing softly at the sky through the gaps in the leaves. He turned to Shadow and looked him directly in the eye. “I missed this. Racing with you, I mean. It’s fun with Knuckles and Tails, but it’s not the same. I can really push myself with you, Shads. Why don’t you stay around more?”
Shadow sighed, turning to the other, though not meeting his gaze. “I told you it’s classified, Sonic.”
“Come on, when has that ever stopped me? I promise I won’t tell a soul, but really, I am worried for you. Just tell me what’s going on, please.”
Shadow bit his lip, trying to hold on to his composure, but ultimately giving in. Sonic was just going to keep pestering him. He sighed, his next words a gentle whisper that was only a touch higher than the wind.
“I don’t get much free time with G.U.N, Sonic.”
“Don’t you get paid time off, benefits, all that crap that comes with a real job?”
“I don’t get paid, Sonic. I'm not an employee.”
Sonic sat up, staring at the other in shock. “Hold on, hold on, you don’t get paid?”
Heat rose to his cheeks, and he forced his glance even further away from the other. “Don’t make such a big deal over this, Sonic. I have accommodations provided for me.”
Sonic’s eyes were wide. “That’s not…Shadow, they’re working you to the bone in return for nothing. However many hours of unpaid labor?”
“Yes, your point is?”
“Shadow, that’s not normal.”
There it was again. Not normal. Nothing about him was normal. He was a monster, he was a freak. Disgusting, dangerous, disturbed.
“It’s the price I pay for my actions and origins, Sonic.”
Sonic opened his mouth as if to respond again, only to be interrupted by a loud buzzing. Shadow sat up and fished his communicator from his quills, swearing loudly when he glanced at the contact. Heat rising throughout his chest, his fingers shook as Shadow accepted the call.
“Commander Tower?” The words were like salt in his mouth.
“Agent Shadow, can you explain why you haven’t stopped by for a renewal in your medical clearance yet? You were instructed to do that two weeks ago. I sent another notice and you still haven’t complied.”
He grit his teeth, turning away from Sonic. “I told you, nothing would have changed from a year ago. Just use the same clearance from last year.”
“This is non negotiable, Agent.”
Shadow’s voice was loud now, startling the birds in the oak tree above. “Oh, fuck off with the Agent bullshit, Abraham.”
“Excuse me?”
He huffed, chest burning painfully. “I’m not going in, you can’t make me.”
“I quite literally can make you. And I will if I have to.”
“Where is that in your precious contract?”
“Shadow, I won’t stand for this blatant disrespect. Report to HQ immediately.”
Shadow’s eyes widened, fingers tapping anxiously on his knees. “It’s my day off. It’s in the contract.”
“Get over here now.”
He hates the way he flinches, the way his hand trembles as he hands up. Despite their race being over, he’s still gasping for air.
He almost forgets Sonic is sitting right next to him, awkwardly sneaking odd glances at him.
“Dude, everything ok?”
Shadow didn’t know how to answer that question. He heaved and huffed and growled, turning to look Sonic in the eye defiantly. He rustled through his quills once more, seizing the emerald in his hands and muttering those fated words.
“Chaos Control.”
Sonic was only a distraction from the hell he called life. Eventually the real world would always come knocking.
Notes:
what ultimately inspired this fic was shadow generations dark beginnings, more specifically ep 2 and 3
i still am in shock at how much vulnerability shadow was able to express in it, and how much self loathing was conveyed. and of course, the little shit that is abraham tower.
and this maria is completely inspired by her in dark beginnings, like almost shamelessly. by far the best maria interpretation (save for the movie verse but that maria didn’t have NIDS so she’s more AU to me)
hope you enjoyed!
Chapter 3: passing satellites / patch of sunlight
Summary:
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
Windows. Eyes.
Sunflowers.
Notes:
chapter titles from:
deep green - christian kuria
never gonna be alone - lizzie mcalpine, jacob collier, john mayerbit more setup, digging a little deeper now - happy reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The scientists say he’s been alive for almost two months now. Shadow doesn’t quite understand how to gauge the passage of time quite yet, but that isn’t to say he’s not curious. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
He’s curious about everything.
He was curious about how he and the humans were so different, how blood is red and so much thicker than water. Why do things fall when he drops them? Why is Maria sick? Why isn’t he sick? Why can he smell things the scientists are not able to and hear much better than them, too?
He overheard a few of them say they were in space a few days ago.
What is space?
It took constant practice and dozens of linguistic lessons, but he’s finally fluent enough to voice those questions aloud to the humans. Questions that have accumulated with each passing hour and almost overwhelmingly filled his brain.
Sitting with Maria helped alleviate his anxiety over asking these questions, as she was entirely too encouraging and never shamed him for asking. She seemed to understand his naivety about the world all too well.
“You kind of remind me of my baby sister. She’s back on Earth, and writes to me sometimes asking about life up here,” she spoke softly, helping him read a book. He was still working on his literacy and cherished these small moments where she would read to him.
“What is Earth?” he asked, eyes leaving the pages and floating to her face.
Maria looked startled for a second before giggling and replying, “Oh! Of course, you wouldn’t know. Earth is our home planet.”
Unfortunately, that did not clear things up in the slightest. He cocked his head once more.
“What’s a planet?”
“Oh, goodness. Let me guess - space, too?”
He nodded, eyes wide and waiting for her explanation. Shadow loved watching her explain things to him. He soaked it in desperately, eager for any ounce of attention from the girl.
She smiled, closed the book they were reading and began, “We live on a space colony, in space. Our true home is Earth, it's like a big rock with trees and grass and oceans, and a whole lot of people. When you’re high enough away from Earth, that becomes space.”
“What does Earth look like?”
That seemed to trigger an innate delight in her as she eagerly leapt off the bed. “Here, I’ll show you!” She swept past him and she dug around her bookshelves until the girl pulled out a large, dusty book. It was practically the size of her head and littered with scraps of parchment sticking out in odd places. “This is one of my favorites!”
Maria hopped back onto the bed, scooping him next to her and excitedly flipped to a diagram of what looked like a green and blue ball.
“See the blue? That’s all water. And the green? That’s the land we live on,” she spoke as she pointed to the pages.
“What’s the white?”
“They’re clouds! Particles of moisture in the air that gather in the atmosphere. In a perfect world we’d be able to touch them, though we mainly just look at them. When they have enough water in them though, the water falls down to Earth and it rains! Isn’t that just amazing?” Maria looked down at the book with fondness, a look that Shadow had seen her give himself once. It was also the look Professor Gerald gave Maria. “I love the Earth. Living here is fun, but until Grandfather finds a cure for my condition, it’s much safer for me up here. Besides, at least now I have a friend in you!”
He raised a brow. “Is Abraham not your friend?”
“He’s…well, you know how he is. I can confide a whole lot of more in you than I ever could with him. Just, ah, don’t tell him that.” She winked at him, giggling and ruffling his quills.
“…secret?” he asked timidly.
She smiled mischievously, holding out her pinky. “Our little secret.”
She flipped the page and instead of the Earth, a new diagram was on the pages. It looked very much like Earth, only dark and grey and with no indication of the blue expanse of water.
“That’s the moon! It goes around the Earth! The Ark’s own orbit pattern is modeled after the moon’s,” she stated, almost proudly. “Grandfather told me!”
“It’s…pretty?”
“I think it’s pretty, too.”
She taught him about stars, about galaxies incomprehensible distances away. She taught him of the star at the center of their own galaxy, the Sun, and how bright and warm it was. And he sat in fascination watching her explain everything, held captive by her voice. When Maria flipped the page this time, there were no diagrams of planets or moons. It was of creatures that he did not recognize, though looked strangely familiar. It gave him pause as he contemplated the picture before him.
“Maria, what is that?” He asked as he pointed to the page.
“This? Oh, this is a cat! It’s an animal,” She supplied.
“Animal?”
“Yep, they’re furry and small and people keep them as pets.”
He was furry. Compared to her and the rest of the humans, he was rather diminutive in size. Was he a pet? His brow furrowed once more, looking down at his quills, his soft fur, his padded but clawed hands. Maria only had gentle, pale skin, and even gentler fingers.
The cat in the diagram had almost identical paws to his own.
“Am I an animal?” he asked in a small voice.
She looked startled, and quickly spoke reassuringly, “I-In a way, yes. But you’re not like that. Besides, I think of you as my baby brother.”
Baby brother. Family. Maria was family? He quite liked the sound of that.
Eventually, his time with Maria would always be cut short. Gerald could only give him so much time before he was pushed back into the lab for more testing. The days were getting more strenuous. They were starting to push him for more as he matured.
Today was much simpler than the other days, however. Just simple blood work and vitals and then he could go back to Maria. Their conversation had left him amazed and eager to bounce off the nearest person, he talked eagerly aloud the scientist working that day.
“Maria said clouds are like water in the air. How can water float?” He asked.
There was no giddy response. There wasn't the delightful explanation he wanted. He wanted Maria, but this scientist would have to do, so Shadow tried again.
“Can oceans float? What’s the difference between that and the clouds?”
Silence. The scientist reached around for a needle in utter silence, not speaking a word to him, and motioned for his arm. Shadow gave it without hesitation, though he continued his pondering.
“What do trees smell like? Maria said they have a smell. And grass, too. And flowers. Apparently flowers smell nice.”
No response. He felt a small pinch where the needle was inserted into his vein. The scientist was quick and methodical, as just as quickly as he felt the pain, the draw was complete. He tried again.
“What does the sun feel like?”
The scientist capped the blood sample and turned back to him, looking him in the eyes now. Shadow’s gaze held as he tried a different approach to getting that joyful explanation.
“Why aren’t you answering my questions?”
There was another silence, though this one was tense.
Suddenly, his face was whipped neatly in the opposing direction, the hit taking him completely by surprise. He fell backwards onto the examination table with a pathetic yelp, tears unwilling springing to the corners of his eyes.
“…why did you hit me?” he asked, voice quivering and small. There had been purpose in the incisions, there had been method to the blood draws. Shadow failed to see the purpose with the slap, with such an impulsive reaction merely simply to cause him pain.
This was the only question that was answered. Without a quaver in his voice, the scientist spoke with such malice it made Shadow tremble in apprehension.
“For you to know your place beneath us.”
He stopped asking the scientists questions afterwards.
Only Maria was ever given that honor.
G.U.N Headquarters was an unsettling industrial building with far too many glass windows, in Shadow’s humble opinion. The hallways were so sterile, so very like the very ones he used to roam beyond the atmosphere above. Everything was grey and bland and festered an aura of dread.
Stars did not shine outside these walls. They barely twinkled.
Since most of G.U.N personnel were humans, most of not all of the furnishing and schematics were made with humans in mind. Door handles were barely at his eye level, desks and chairs large and unaccommodating for his size.
Animal, he thought immediately. No, Mobian, he reminded himself. Not abnormal, a commonplace, actually. There were many others like him.
He swallowed thickly as walked down the imposing hallway. This hallway always made him feel as if he were being watched. Like a thousand cameras were pointed at him and broadcasting his misfortune for the world to see. It made him shudder, though he kept walking, he had to keep walking. There is no other choice.
His fingers kept twitching nervously, shaking even after he reached the Commander’s office. A towering, leering door, much taller than his little form, was all that stood between him and what is surely certain doom.
Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle and stepped cautiously inside, the mechanical hum of the ventilation system suddenly disappearing, thrusting him into eerie silence.
Almost biting his cheek to stifle his fear, he asked aloud, “Commander?”
There was a thin, tense pause, palpable in the air as Shadow stared at Tower from across the room. He was sitting in the wide office chair, illuminated from the back by the obscenely large windows that filled his office. A ornate black pen was drifting across pieces of paper in an orderly fashion when it suddenly halted, and Tower glanced up.
“Shadow,” he replied.
Abraham Tower was just as unpleasant as an adult as he was a child. Fifty years had not changed much, that was pretty clear. He spoke with the same snarled voice, though it seemed to have matured into something even worse. Something that was meant to strike fear in the hearts of his enemies.
One thing was plainly obvious; aside from the heterochromia, he was the spitting image of his father.
“So,” he began, “Medical clearance.”
Shadow replied immediately, “No.”
Tower sighed, glaring at the hedgehog with a look that can only be described as disdain. “Is there a reason for your sudden disobedience?”
“No, sir.”
He tsked, and his eyes drifted back to his paperwork. “I thought you were made to follow orders.”
Heart pounding, Shadow growled low, arms crossed over his chest defensively. “You wanna tell me again what I was made for, Abraham?”
He scoffed, dropping the pen and glaring at him scathingly. “Your primary purpose was to cure her, was it not? And you couldn’t do that, either. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at your sudden, well not so sudden failures.”
His breath caught in his throat. Why was Tower bringing up Maria now, of all times? Tower got to live with her memory for more than fifty years. Shadow had barely been given three. It was still so fresh in his mind, and his disdain for the man couldn’t be more apparent.
It just wasn’t fair.
Shadow spat, “Don’t you dare bring her into this.”
Green and amber eyes flashed and met crimson, full of animosity. “Well, why shouldn’t I? After all, it’s because of you she’s dead.”
The world around him grew cold, as if suddenly plunged back into the nothingness of his tank. As if he were suddenly thrust back into the stasis chamber, sealed away and forgotten.
“…What?”
“If you had been able to cure her, then the raid wouldn’t have happened.”
His brow furrowed, his heart pounded unsteadily in his chest. Trying to sedate the many emotions running through his brain, his hands clenched tightly, claws seeping through and puncturing little holes in his gloves.
Fear, anger, confusion, fear. Why was Tower doing this?
“The raid happened because—!”
Tower interrupted him, slamming his hands on the desk with a loud bang, forcing a flinch from the hedgehog. “G.U.N was after you, Shadow. Not Maria. Your inaction deliberately caused her death.”
“I…” He stammered. “You can’t possibly be blaming me for that?”
The next words from the man’s mouth ceased all trains of thought.
“Maybe if you weren’t too busy spreading your legs you could have seen…”
Shadow’s blood ran cold, an odd ringing filled his ears and he didn’t even catch the rest of the sentence. His mouth went dry, reminded of the taste, of hands, too many hands. Lingering touches, bruising grasps. He shuddered and clenched his eyes shut.
“Don’t you fucking dare mention that to anyone,” he snapped, knowing full well he probably seemed like unhinged right now. A feral animal.
Tower looked smug, chuckling as he smirked, “Why wouldn’t I? Rumor has it, you’re the best.”
“W-Why have you brought me here? To berate me? Because if so, I’m leaving.” His fingers ached with how hard they shook, he needed to leave, he needed to get out.
“Need I remind you of the contract’s contingencies? Like it or not, this contact protects you from the wrath of the legal system. You have to obey, or face consequences. I’m only giving you a warning this time, though I have to report it as an infraction on your record.”
One hand on the collar. One hand on the leash.
“Everything comes back to that fucking contract doesn’t it,” he growled, an uneven pit of dread finding a home in his stomach.
“It was the best alternative within your circumstances,” Tower argued, the malevolent frown fresh on his face. “However, it’s useless if you’re going to act out like a child.”
“I’m not acting out. And technically speaking, I am a child,” he muttered, staring at the carpet and just willing the conversation to simply end. He could deal with Tower’s shit another day, just not now.
“No, technically speaking, you’re government property.”
That left a sour taste in his mouth, but Tower was right. He was not, legally speaking, a person. A citizen. He was a creation of a madman. Property.
He swallowed down the cry of frustration that seemed to simmer below the surface of his skin.
“Complete the medical clearance. Agent Rouge already requested a similar time slot to your own. Dismissed.”
And Shadow immediately spun around towards the door, though hesitated and turned to look back at the man. Tower had already sat back down and returned to his paperwork.
“…Is Doctor Collins still employed…?” Shadow asked, in such a small voice.
“Why, yes he is. Would you like me to put him down as your preference?”
He gulped thickly and hastily shook his head in the negative, perhaps a little too quickly. He turned the handle of the large door with haste, intending to step right through.
“Oh, and Shadow? If you know what’s good for you, I’d follow orders. I can’t promise others will give you the same leniency.”
The words were not overtly spoken, but Shadow understood the message all too well.
Know your place.
He kept his breathing under control just long enough to exit the room, practically booking it for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Know your place.
He sprinted down the sterile hallway, past the windows portraying his shame, past the thousands of eyes surely looking down at him. Was the hallway getting smaller? Was the air getting thinner?
Know your place.
He reached the bathroom with a stuttering gasp. The handle was just above his eye level, just high enough that he had to glance up, and the fear returned.
Know your place beneath us.
Because he was beneath them, wasn’t he? Not a person, not a Mobian, certainly not a child.
Government property.
He wrenched the door open with far too much force, stumbling his way to the sink and turning on the faucet, just letting the cool water wash over his hands, soaking his gloves.
It did not quell the trembling, it did not sate his shudders. He bit his lip so hard he drew blood and forced himself to gaze in the mirror.
Wide, bloodshot eyes filled with tears. Ruffled quills that haven’t been affectionately brushed, but torn apart.
He looked awful.
As the tears dripped down his chin, past his muzzle, he whimpered, clenching the sides of the sink with such force he heard the telltale cracks of the porcelain breaking.
Glaring at his reflection. Glaring at his pathetic cries. Glaring at himself.
“Know your fucking place.”
He outgrew the pitiful cushion far too quickly. It was lumpy, depressing, and nothing like her warm embrace. Nothing like her warm soft bed.
So the scientists gave him new sleeping arrangements.
A cage.
It was a cage, fit for an animal. When Shadow gazed upon it, a startling realization fell through to his mind, that he was not worthy enough of dignity in their eyes.
An animal, in a way. She said it too. Did she think he deserved the cage? Maria doesn’t have a cage, she has a bed. A soft, plushy bed that supports her.
Shadow has a cage. What does that say about him?
It’s quiet when he warps back to the apartment, hours later. The lights are turned off and Rouge’s key is missing, and given the fact that Omega is nowhere to be seen, he assumes the bot went with her.
Shadow is alone.
He stands in the doorway, his head dusted by the overhead light of the hallway for far longer than he’s aware. Just staring at the rooms before him, noticing just how little he occupied the space.
Rouge’s jacket is on the chair, a hideous shade of purple. Her mug, always left out on the kitchen island. The damn succulent she insisted on putting next to the sink. Two tubes of lipstick and mascara on the table next to the couch. Even Omega's charging pad in the corner of the living room.
But nothing of Shadow’s. He kept what meager belongings he owned in his bedroom, and even then, it could aptly be described as barren. A simple bed, a simple desk, a simple chair. Those were the three main components of his room.
He really didn’t own anything, actually.
All the furniture was provided for him. His food, provided and paid for by Rouge and G.U.N. His communicator? G.U.N too.
Shadow owns nothing. Not even himself.
Government property.
Pathetic.
A loud buzzing in his quills startles him from his train of thought and he quickly digs around his communicator. His first instinct is that it’s from Tower, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Sonic
Hey, Shads! You seemed a little upset today after our race. Are you alright?
His fingers stutter but respond immediately.
Shadow
None of your business.
His thoughts drifted back to Sonic’s words from that morning. Not normal. Not normal. Not normal.
Was his situation truly not normal? Was his situation befitting of a creature like him?
No, Mobian.
He tried to imagine Sonic in his shoes, juggling military operations daily and being forced to follow directions from men who he couldn't give less of a shit about. While the thought was amusing, it would never be reality. Sonic would prance right out of G.U.N’s grasp like he always does and run into the sunset.
Because Sonic wasn’t legally trapped.
He was free to roam, free to take Robotnik down, and do as he pleased. He wasn’t Shadow.
Was Rouge trapped? No, her employment was completely voluntary. Omega was enthusiastically a part of their team. As much as they each groaned and complained about their job, at their core they enjoyed it.
Amy Rose was certainly not being held against her will in a contract. Tails was not forced to build gadgets for the government or face imprisonment. Knuckles was not being forced to punch enemies of the state.
So what made Shadow different? What made him not normal?
Why is he trapped?
He.
Is.
Trapped?
Oh. He’s trapped. It’s funny how familiar it seems. He swore he’d never be back here and yet he’s fallen into the same hands.
Is a cage still a cage without its bars? He’s not bound by any physical means, but he’s certainly restricted. Certainly threatened into silence, threatened into compulsory service.
Maybe Sonic was right. Maybe that wasn’t normal.
He sighed as he reached the bedroom. It was just as he described.
A bed. A desk. A chair.
No tacky jacket thrown over the chair. No succulents in the windowsill. Nothing of any substance that reminded the world that he was here. Alive, and trapped, yet again. No personal belongings that provided the room with substance.
He sat down on the bed. It was rough, unyielding to his weight, even after years of sleeping on it. So very unlike the plush squishiness of her mattress. A far cry from her soft pillows, or her stupidly insane amount of stuffed animals, or even just simply her warm embrace.
He had a bed now. Not a cage.
Shouldn’t he be happy?
“Psst!” A sudden noise startled him from his thoughts and Shadow flinched and immediately looked at the small window, which had been pushed ajar without his knowledge. A familiar figure was poking their head through.
“The hell? What?”
The figure then clambered through, tripping over the windowsill and thumping clumsily onto the carpeted floor with a soft thump, looking sheepishly back at Shadow.
“Sonic? Did you just break into my room?”
The blue hedgehog was silent for a few moments, before giving that stupid smile one gives when they’re caught.
“Uhh…Meow?”
Sighing, Shadow stood up from the bed, standing over Sonic with a look of incredulity. He asked, hands on his hips, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Sonic looked startled for a few moments before admitting, “Ok, maybe I did break in, but I had a good reason!”
Shadow didn’t believe him, though another burning question spilled from his lips without him realizing. “I’m not even sure you knew where Rouge and I lived.”
“Funny story, I borrowed her microwave one time! Tails was using ours for something and I really wanted noodles.”
Internally Shadow couldn’t help the snort that escaped his mouth, though he bit his cheek to stifle the noise as best as could.
He asked, amusedly, “Alright, so what is your reason for being here, that is apparently so good it warranted breaking and entering?”
Still on the floor, Sonic smiled sadly and explained, “Listen, I heard bits and pieces of your phone call and you seemed a little upset, so I’m here to cheer you up!”
Shadow scoffed, cringing and leering down at him. Though standing over Sonic like that quickly soured his mood, so he relented and sat down on the bed. “And how do you suppose you do that? I was attempting to rest before you not so gracefully fell in like a lost puppy.”
“We could talk?” the blue hedgehog offered.
“Talk. You broke into my apartment to talk.”
“Mm! Or you could talk. I can be a good listener.”
Brows raised, he snorted, “Oh, spare me the niceties. You can’t go two minutes without some incessant joke. I’m surprised you haven’t blathered my ears off with the way you yap sometimes.”
“Actually, I was completely nonverbal as a child.”
Oh. Shadow did not know that. Sonic seemed to take his silence as a confirmation of that fact, and continued.
“Yep, didn’t say a word until about eleven years old, after I’d been with Tails a few years.”
“Well, I apologize and retract my statement, then.”
Sonic snickered, smiling as he teased, “Always so formal.”
Shadow feigned looking offended, raising his hands in front of him, exclaiming, “Pardon me, being raised by pretentious scientists in the sixties will do that to you.”
“Was Maria always this formal?”
The question made him falter and the room went quiet, filled with a sudden awkward pause. Sonic’s eyes widened and he scratched his quills behind his head sheepishly.
“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me. I’d understand if you don’t want to talk about her.”
He stared at the other strangely, sighing and relenting. “No, it’s quite alright. She wasn’t actually. She was quite a lot like you, Sonic. Free-spirited, adventurous as much as her condition allowed. If she had the pleasure of your health and speed, she would run all over creation as well.” A fond smile crossed his lips.
“Will you tell me more about her?” Sonic asked, patting the ground next to him on the floor.
Rolling his eyes but obliging, he sat next to Sonic. Their shoulders brushed and an unfamiliar feeling arose in him, though he chalked it up to the hedgehog’s sudden appearance in his room.
“She was the only one that wasn’t afraid of me. Or disgusted by me.”
“Even Eggman senior?” Sonic asked unserious.
Shadow nodded in earnest. “Even the Professor had his hesitations with me, but not her. She was fascinated with the world. She loved flowers and nature, the good and the bad, she loved them equally. If she were to ever be cured, she wanted to be a climatologist, a seismologist, or any other profession that analyzed natural disasters.”
What was this? This closeness? This fondness? It was foreign to him and yet not at all painful.
“I always forget she was a Robotnik, too.”
Shadow actually laughed, startling the both of them, “Everyone did. And that’s when she would surprise them. She possessed a face like an angel that could fool even the toughest of men.”
Sonic looked back at him, the faintest touching of their quills making his hands jolt. “Did she have a favorite flower? Or just flowers in general.”
“Sunflowers were her favorite. I regret to say I’ve yet to see one.” A yawn escaped his lips, slowing his speech down. He whispered, “Pardon.”
“No, you’re good, I did kinda interrupt your sleep. Why don’t I take the reins? You just listen.”
“Hmm.” And Shadow closed his eyes, unknowingly leaning into the other.
“So, me and Tails met after I stumbled upon some other foxes bullying him for his genetic defect. Well, I wouldn’t call it a defect, per se, more like a complete genetic advantage because how many other foxes can fly? Anyway, I stopped them and with nowhere to really go, Tails followed me and the rest is history.”
As sleep took hold, and Sonic’s voice faded into obscurity, Shadow couldn’t help the small smile that had appeared on his face. Something about the gentle vibrations next to him lulled him down into the depths.
He woke up alone, tucked into the covers on his bed, feeling the safest he’d been in months.
On the pillowcase next to him was a single golden sunflower, clearly freshly plucked from the earth. The scent of it wafted over and around his pillow, and he stared at it in amazement for longer than he cared to admit.
Before he knows it, it’s placed into a drinking cup, filled with water, and placed on his windowsill. It’s a wonder how the sparse room seems to light up with the addition.
As turns to leave for the day, he can’t help but smile at the flower from the doorway, admiring it even at a distance.
A sunflower.
Of his very own.
Notes:
live laugh sonadow.
but yeah, shadow is going through it in this fic, he deserves his goofy lil man to help him.
this is the last introductory chapter, things will soon be going down like maria’s corpse. i’m going to try and aim to have it out within three weeks, keyword being try but hope y’all enjoyed it!
thanks for reading!
Chapter 4: dont wait for me/gone a little far this time
Summary:
Storm clouds are rather heavy when it rains.
Pretty things aren’t supposed to cry.
Notes:
i was planning on posting this on friday for my birthday, but since i have it done and i’m bored i might as well post it now!
for those that read my other fics - toxins and slip of the tongue will be getting an update friday, as well as a little oneshot, i’m just easing my load for friday by posting this now
chapter titles:
bells in santa fe - halsey
borderline - tame impala
happy reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The issue at hand was never going to go away, was it?
For the next three days, notice after notice showed up at the door of their apartment, addressed solely to him, practically mocking him for his refusal to show up for his medical clearance renewal. Rouge had eventually foregone attending with him, getting her clearance out of the way with ease. The manner in which she pranced back, practically giddy with her evaluation confirmation papers waving in his face, did nothing but piss him off. And awaken a rising fear in him.
The deadlines were only getting closer. Tower was only getting harsher. And still, Shadow refused to comply.
Even Omega had his routine maintenance checkup, which was where the bot currently was. He had to leave quite early in the morning to avoid the oncoming downpour, even Shadow had barely missed him. The windows were darkened by the stormy clouds and the small kitchen was noticeably larger without the towering robotic figure sitting in the corner, but it definitely afforded Rouge another opportunity to corner Shadow down.
“Hon, he’s just going to keep pounding on your door,” she spoke, her mug of iced coffee jostling as she turned to him. The bags under her eyes were very prominent, having returned from an espionage stakeout mission late the night prior. Her fur was freshly washed, pristine as always, though, and she stifled a yawn with her mug. “Might as well get it out of the way.”
He replied the same way he’s been doing, chewing a handful of heavily roasted coffee beans. “I don’t care.”
That obviously did not satisfy the bat, who rolled her eyes and continued. “Alright, let me play devil’s advocate for a minute. If you carry on with this whole refusal schtick, you get benched on missions. Which means Omega and I take all the glory for ourselves, leaving you in the dust. You do like missions, right?”
“I’m not going,” he insisted.
Rouge set her mug down on the kitchen island and crossed her arms. “Hold on, I’m not finished. If you do go, then Tower will get off your ass, and you’ll only have to see him after the occasional mission brief,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “I know you two have a thing.”
“We don’t have a thing.”
His and Tower’s feud went deeper than Rouge would ever know. It was not merely a thing.
“I may be a bat, but I’m not blind, dear,” she snorted. “If looks could kill, you’d both drop dead in each other’s presence, Ultimate Lifeform be damned. I’m surprised you two manage to have civil conversations in the first place.”
“Define civil,” growled Shadow. Just thinking about the man made his blood boil. The comments from their previous meeting still had him reeling. Surely that has to be against some rules? Sexual harassment, perhaps? Or did it only count as sexual harassment when perpetrated against a person?
Still, Tower had no right to bring that up. No right to mock him. Didn’t he?
Or was the Commander not held to the same standards as everyone else?
“My point is, you do the medical clearance, you’re good for another year, Tower can’t touch you. How’s that sound?” she asked, arms still crossed. Her wings were folded neatly behind her back, the faintest hint peeking from behind her neck.
“Did he put you up to this?” Shadow accused. “Trying to convince me?”
“If it’s working, then no. If it isn’t, then it was all his idea.”
He huffed, hands moving to grip the counter rather harshly. “Rouge, I don’t care. I’m not going.”
She threw up her hands in exasperation, and voice raised, she yelled, “What is your fucking problem? I don’t know if you know this Shadow, but I quite like being around you. Being on the same team. If you do this, you risk being pulled from Team Dark and I can’t promise they’ll let you stay here if that happens.”
Shadow couldn’t remember the last time Rouge had truly been upset with him. She feigned exasperation quite a bit, but it was never so real. This was true anger, and it hurt coming from someone he’d grown to care for.
But she wasn’t aware of the contract. No one was, with the exception of Tower, a few higher-ups at G.U.N, and himself. The most anyone knew was likely Sonic, and even then, Shadow had only let slip of his lack of a salary.
“They’ll let me,” he murmured. The words felt sour in his mouth, like he just bit into a ripe lemon.
They’ll let him? Like one lets a dog lie on the sofa? Like one lets their pet have a treat after completing a task? Like one lets their pet lick their feet, lets their pet be touched, all while granting nothing but empty praises in return?
“I'm serious, Shadow,” Rouge spoke, her voice strained. “It’s just a medical evaluation. What are you so afraid of?”
He swallowed the rising nausea in his throat, ignoring the manner in which his hands trembled at her words. His foot tapped the floor anxiously, staring her down. He choked out, “I’m not afraid.”
Rouge didn’t believe him for a second. She chuckled derisively, a harsh tone interrupting her usual soft demeanor, leaning over the counter to glare at him, whispering, “That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one, Shadow.”
The occasional slaps progressed into pushes, into kicks, into beatings. Routine vital checks went from mild inconveniences to nightmarish endeavors somehow overnight.
Before, he’d happily offer up his arm for blood draws or inspections without a second’s hesitation. He’d happily sit through testing as the scientist talked aloud to one another, content with simply listening.
Now, as the scientists motion for his arm, he can’t help it.
He flinches now.
It’s a small thing, really. Just a reflexive tense backwards in expectation of pain. But it is apparent. And it is obvious he’s expecting to be hurt.
Some of the scientists soothe him, cooing softly.
Some of the scientists smirk at his reaction. Those are typically the ones that caused the flinch in the first place.
“You should tell Grandfather. How they treat you is not nice, you know,” said Maria one evening, relaxing in the comfort of her bed. Shadow, curled up in her arms, looked up at her, a healing bruise barely visible in his cheek.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice small.
“If someone was hurting me, would you want me to keep it a secret?” she asked, running a hand through his quills. He never flinched at her touch, never tensed even as she smoothed her fingers over a swelling bump.
The hedgehog almost gasped, yelling, “No! I-I’d tell the Professor right away!”
Maria gave him a sorrowful smile, whispering, “Then do the same for yourself!”
He gave her words some thought. If it were Maria being slapped, being pushed, being kicked, he’d rush to her aide to cease the actions with haste. So what difference did it make that it was him?
“Oh, that isn’t right, is it?”
“No, Shadow,” she spoke. “You should tell him. Or I will, but I want to give you that choice first.”
He agreed with her and drifted off to sleep in her arms, her natural warmth embracing him like a blanket. Hours later, when Gerald had come to collect him from the girl’s room, he gave one last departing hug to her, tail wagging cheerfully at her respondent smooch to his quills.
As he left with the Professor, he nervously chewed at his lip, anxiously trailing behind the man as they walked towards the lab once more.
“Professor?”
“Yes, Shadow?”
He took a deep breath and admitted, “Some of the other scientists are hitting me. They’re, um, hurting me.”
The man suddenly stopped walking, causing the hedgehog to bump into him and stumble. As Shadow regained his footing, he jumped as he realized the Professor had kneeled down right in front of him, staring him down, a frown on his face.
“Don’t be stupid, Shadow. It’s unbecoming of you to lie.”
“B-But I’m not lying!” he attempted, but the man was unrelenting. It was no use, the bruise on his cheek had already begun to fade, and he had no other remaining remnants of his abuse.
It was rather easy for his body to hide the evidence.
“That’s a bad thing to do. And bad boys get the crate.”
His eyes widened, claws bursting through his gloves and raking into the marble counter with surprising ease. “Shut the fuck up! Y-You take that back right now!”
Rouge jumped back at the sound of his voice, wings bursting reflexively, her mug of ice coffee tipping over and spilling haphazardly in front of her. “Take what back?”
He jumped to his feet, ignoring the liquid now pooling on the counter and slamming his hands down. He screamed, “You called me a liar. I’m not a fucking liar!”
“Alright, geez. Calm down!” She yelled back, reaching for a towel to mop up the mess. “What’s gotten into you lately? I thought we were finally getting somewhere. And you know what? I’m not taking it back - you are afraid of something and I’m going to find out what.”
A pained groan he wasn’t sure he was capable of making forced its way out of his mouth. “You vindictive little bitch. I-I can’t…you don’t understand.”
“Clearly, but excuse me?” she fumed. “You don’t get to call me that after all I’ve fucking done for you, alright. I know you have issues and all, but that gives you no right to act like such an asshole. I’ve only been trying to help you!”
His jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching it. “Maybe I don’t want your help.”
“Maybe it’s time you realized, I actually care for your sorry ass. So, I’m sorry for being a halfway decent friend, but it’s not like you ever open up to me. I’m not sure if you’ve realized, but it’s really hard to talk to a brick wall.”
“I don’t fucking care anymore, Rouge. Nothing you can do or say is ever going to be enough to push me into the medical wing of HQ.”
The bat stared at him, bewildered for a few moments, defeat evident in her face. A strange look of sorrow crossed her features and Shadow didn’t have it in him to look away.
At last she spoke, with a voice so full of concern, “Shadow, you’re literally risking termination.”
At those words, he paused and couldn’t help the hearty chuckle that escaped his lips. It quickly progressed into full on laughter, startling the both of them. It was just so funny. Hilarious, even.
Risking termination? As if G.U.N would let him go that easily? If refusing to comply with Tower’s orders could free him from the contract, he would have done it years ago.
But, Tower would never let him escape. Their meeting had proved the fact.
“That’s the least of my worries,” he said, recovering his breath and wiping the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. “Now, go run back to them like the good little agent you are.”
The words had more bite than he’d hoped, but she rolled her eyes and scoffed, turning her back to him. Outside, the rain began to pour, gently thrumming against the windows. “At least, I know they like me.”
“They like looking at you, more like.”
She spun back around, staring deep into his eyes, mouth pulled into a low frown. The kitchen was eerily silent now, save for the pitter of the rain, tense and foreboding. It was too late for him to realize the meaning behind his own words.
“Get out.”
His heart dropped low in his stomach, chest clenching painfully as he tried to manage a quick apology. “Rouge, I’m—”
“Get out!” She roared, pointing to the door. “You clearly need some time alone before work, and I don’t want to see you until then. Maybe take that time to think about other people instead of yourself for once, got it?”
He stood there, frozen momentarily, before trudging cautiously out of the kitchen and to the door, passing her jacket, her succulents, her keys.
This really was Rouge’s apartment, he just slept here.
“I’m sorry,” he called back to her. He received no response. The door clicked behind him and the sound of the rain amplified tenfold, the smell of petrichor heavy in the air.
There was still another hour until he was needed at G.U.N. The emerald in his quills burned with the need to use, but he may as well walk for a bit to delay the inevitable. As he left the complex, he turned back around, staring at the building in silence.
His room faced this way, he realized.
If he stood tall and squinted hard enough, Shadow could barely make out the small sunflower on the windowsill.
One of the scientists called him pretty today. Which was strange, since they had punched him moments before.
He was hit, praised, then lovingly held.
The strange feeling in his stomach hurt more than the emerging bruise.
It was absolutely pouring. His quills were soaked, a deep set chill settling uncomfortably in his toes. He hadn’t meant to stray this far from the complex. It was as if his feet were carrying him without his mind fully present. He swore it wasn’t this dark before. He didn’t even know the time, nor did he rightly care.
He really should head to work now. Work, he mused. What a fucking hilarious thought. What a stupid thought.
Work was for employed people. Not slaves to the state. Work was where individuals earned an income, granting themselves financial freedom.
Shadow was not employed. Shadow wasn’t given the freedom of choice. Shadow was not a person.
No, it was not work. G.U.N was his servitude, that much was clear.
Shadow couldn’t tell if the moisture in his eyes was from the rain or from his tears.
His mouth was pried open, canines on full display.
The pair of scientists attending to him today were young men. They snickered at each other over something, making a strange gesture with their hands, looking at him with an odd expression.
Shadow didn’t understand. He never did.
It was like the world was in on some funny joke that he would never understand the punchline to.
The distant roll of thunder made his ears flicker in anticipation. The rain worsened, though he had long since become accustomed to the cold.
He was even further than before. He hadn’t even remembered moving another step.
Oh.
He’s drifting again.
He hasn’t done it in a while. Not since the Ark, actually. It was easier, living life in nothingness, floating from memory to memory. He didn’t have to face the world like this.
He didn’t have to feel pain.
A hand squeezed his thigh, massive in comparison to his much smaller form.
It lingered, even with the Professor in the room. His presence no longer stopped the advances of the others.
He wondered if the Professor would do the same.
He stumbled onto the wet grass, gloves immediately becoming stained with mud and wet leaves.
Grass? Hadn’t he just been on the pavement, walking on the streets?
Shadow looked up. He was at the oak tree, the one he and Sonic had sat at a few days prior. It was miles away.
When had he walked here? What time is it?
The rain continued, oblivious to his queries.
His mouth was forced open again, and a long finger ran across the length of his tongue. He reflexively gagged, tears welling in the inner corners of his eyes.
The scientists called him pretty again.
His hands clenched down onto the wet earth, trembling and shaking as hard as the leaves in the tree above.
Stop thinking, he reminded himself.
And he drifted back under.
A hand crawled under his tail, rubbing small circles. It didn’t hurt, at least not in the way he’d grown to know pain.
It actually felt good, in a way. In a strange, unsettling way.
He still doesn’t understand.
Arms wrapped around himself in a feeble attempt to simulate her embrace, and the wind continued to whip through his damp quills.
It was nothing like his suspension tank.
A soft caress of his quills, a slap in the face.
A few of them kiss the bruises they make now.
It doesn’t feel like Maria’s kisses.
All he wants is her. If he tried hard enough, Shadow could almost imagine it standing right in front of him.
Warm, soft bed. Golden blonde hair.
Blue.
He was forced down to his knees today, alone in the lab with a young scientist.
He wasn’t tasked with anything, just told to sit.
Sit, look up, and look pretty.
The word makes his tail wag now.
The liquid running down his face was rather warm.
Not cold rain, then.
Her touch is different. He’s not sure he knows how to describe it.
There is affectionate quality to it that simply isn’t replicated with anyone else. At least, not that he’s known.
Wet footsteps emerged from behind him.
“Shadow?”
He knew that voice. That voice was calm, that voice was safe.
That voice didn’t touch him.
“Dude, you’re soaked. How long have you been out here?”
He couldn’t respond, quivering beneath the tree. The figure approached him, and Shadow still couldn’t mutter a single word. He sat, transfixed against the soaked bark, staring straight ahead, nearly unblinking.
“Uh, Shadow?”
A hand waved in front of his face, and still Shadow could not manage a single reaction.
“Shadow, you’re scaring me.”
Green eyes were suddenly all he could stare at, mouth open in a silent cry.
“I-I’m gonna go get Tails, alright? He’d know what to do.”
He hoped the rain masked his tears a little.
“On second thought, I’m going to carry you, is that fine? We’re just going to go to Tails' lab, get you warmed up and checked out. Super simple, okay? But I gotta get us there.”
Strong arms hold him, though the strength doesn’t invoke any fear. It’s a gentle hold, if a little firm. He feels safe. He feels awfully protected.
“Is that alright?”
He manages a minuscule nod, before entirely losing consciousness in the arms of the calm voice.
It’s not her, but it’ll do.
He wakes up to an incessant beeping.
Head feeling fuzzy and full of lead, Shadow could do nothing but listen to the rattle of voice above him.
“I mean there’s no injuries, nothing that is causing him physical harm. What exactly do you want me to do?” came Tails’ voice, distant yet familiar.
Shadow’s eyelids, though heavy, lift momentarily, the world appearing in a blur of bright lights and colors. He sees the yellow fur of the fox, and the bright, almost sterile ceiling above.
“Something isn’t right with him. I’ve been worried about him lately, this is just my breaking point. Can’t you like scan him with your little gizmo thingy?” came the calm voice. Sonic, his mind supplied.
“Well, the medical scanner is really experimental, but I'm sure I can find something,” said Tails. There was a shuffle above him and a few strange beeps, when suddenly the kit gasped. “Woah, his cortisol levels are through the roof! Epinephrine, norepinephrine, both are working overtime right now. His hypothalamus is scared of something, I just don’t know what. I’m not sure he can be poisoned, but it might do him well for me to check.”
“Tails, buddy. What does that mean? In English?”
“You know, it’d really do you well to learn anatomical terms, especially in the field. But, to put it in simple terms, his brain is processing the world around him as a threat and as a result, he’s essentially trapped in a fight or flight response.”
“But he’s not fighting or flighting,” said Sonic.
“Exactly, and that’s the problem. If I had to guess he experienced a severe anxiety or panic attack? Maybe post-traumatic stress related? Should we call his boss? I’m no therapist, but maybe he can set Shadow up? G.U.N.’s gotta have psychiatric support for their agents.”
His heart began thundering in his chest, the beeping rapidly speeding. Tower was the last person he wanted to see right now, just the thought of looking into the heterochromatic eyes made his stomach lurch.
If he was being honest, he’d tell them he wanted Maria, but he knew she was long gone.
Tails must have noticed. “On second thought, maybe not.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure about that one, bud. He and the Commander don’t seem to get along very well. Maybe Rouge? She would know him best, right?” Sonic offered.
A stifling wave of guilt washed over him as he heard her name. Despite his withdrawn behavior, she’d always been behind him, supporting him. She even acted as a buffer between him and Tower occasionally. And he’d gone and fucked it up.
“Might as well give it a shot? You call her, I’ll do a preliminary blood draw to cover our bases. If this does end up being an interaction with a foreign substance, I’ll be able to tell,” said Tails.
Shadow felt his arm tugged, upwards and exposed. It was too familiar, painstakingly familiar. He felt the very tip of a needle and squealed and yelped and screamed and flinched, tugging his arm away from the fox in an attempt to free himself.
“Wh-Shadow! Stop!” cried the fox, trying to stabilize the arm.
Shadow tugged harder, using his skates to forcefully kick the kit away from him, the needle ripping against his skin painfully. He howled as his arm was sliced open, and scrambled to move, trying to get away.
“Tails, what’s going on?” came Sonic’s worried voice, but Shadow was too far gone.
He stumbled out of the chair he had woken up in, eyes searching the lab for a crawl space or somewhere small where he could curl up and hide.
And he did exactly that, crawling beneath the kit’s desk and contorting his body into a little ball, quills bristling defensively.
Blood seeped from where his arms were curled into himself and he let out a small whine, clenching his eyes shut and once again wishing for nothingness.
Today was a bad day.
A really bad day.
He wasn't given any notice of his oncoming assault. Shadow was merely dragged from his cage, startled awake, and thrown into the lab. The scientists were rough, pulling his body every which way until he settled in the position they wanted.
He was held down, strapped to the table, glancing at the equipment with dread.
Most notably, a large saw reflected in the sterile light.
“W-Wait!” he cried, and yet they didn’t listen.
“Commencing of regenerative tests will begin momentarily. Subject will be administered a small dosage of lidocaine intravenously, acting as a local anesthetic. Amputation of the right leg will then be completed and timer will start shortly thereafter,” a scientist spoke into a small microphone, writing down additional notes onto a clipboard. “Subject will be observed until the leg is fully regenerated.”
“Professor, wait!” Shadow tried again to call for Gerald, but the man ignored him, turning his back to him and gesturing to another scientist.
The tip of a needle pierced his skin. A rag was shoved into his mouth. He barely felt the tingling effects of the anesthetic before the sharp edge of the saw was pressed against his leg.
The room was filled with the haunting sound of his screams, but it was never enough to warrant stopping the procedure. His lungs burned painfully, his throat rubbed raw from his pleading words.
Why was he given a voice, if they weren’t going to listen to him speak?
Notes:
as always, i live for comments. even just telling me you enjoyed makes my day :>
thanks for reading!
Chapter 5: i’ll play god today/save me, hear me
Summary:
Hands comfort, hands give, and hands take.
Notes:
chapter title from oh ana - mother mother
since this is becoming an issue of contention on tiktok this is my official warning to READ THE TAGS. the dove is dead y’all i shot it
we are delving into the darker parts of this story now. it’s going to get worse.
but happy reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Everything is worsening.
Everything is falling apart.
Shadow is falling apart. Like a porcelain vase tipped over on its side. Like a window being smashed by an incoming rock.
A star succumbing to a black hole.
His physical limits are tested daily, not just his medicinal ones. Endurance training has commenced and nearly every time, Shadow fails to live up to the impossible standards set by either Gerald or the organization he comes to know only as G.U.N. The agency's insignia is burned into every piece of equipment, every doorway, every corner of every piece of paper. Almost haunting him, lurking just beyond the shadows.
Despite never interacting with G.U.N, Shadow feels intrinsically acquainted with its presence, and not amicably.
The scientists always talk about G.U.N. The mere mention of the word is enough to put a serious face on anyone, especially Gerald. It’s almost like the man is afraid, but that only leaves the hedgehog with the question he dare not voice aloud:
What could scare even Gerald?
“Tower is coming to visit,” the man mutters to one of his coworkers. Shadow, once again strapped down to a table, barely recognizes it as the man who first picked him up from the floor of his suspension tank.
It seemed like a lifetime ago. It’s only been six months.
“Ugh, again? Thought we wouldn’t have to deal with his ass for another year,” the other man replies, reaching for the equipment next to him.
Shadow’s arm is pulled up harshly, the fur around his elbow freshly shaven off in preparation for yet another blood draw. The men continue to talk aloud to each other, not even sparing him a glance.
Shadow knows better than to interrupt.
“He’s wasting tax dollars is what he’s doing, coming up here ahead of schedule. Combat training isn’t supposed to start for another month or two, and even then, he was supposed to give us several months for progress,” Gerald responded rather gruffly. Shadow’s fingers twitched at the words, but he kept himself still. “Now, if he’s making two trips, that’s twice as many headaches for us, mentally and financially.”
“Little Abe will be happy, at least,” offers the other scientist.
Gerald merely scoffs, waving him off with a raise of his arm. “Oh, please. I only indulge the kid because of who his father is.”
“Some could say others do the same for Maria because of you.”
Those words only enraged the Professor, who slammed the clipboard he was holding onto the counter next to the table. Shadow attempted to stifle his flinch, but the man’s voice frightened him all the same.
“Maria is sick, dammit!” yelled Gerald. “I know Shadow can heal her, but he can’t do that if he’s locked in training all damn day. I just need more time.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not sure that’s where the money is talking, sir.”
Gerald huffed and stormed out of the lab, leaving Shadow and the other scientist alone. Shadow suddenly felt…vulnerable without the Professor present.
He just couldn’t find a reason why.
“Hey, Shadow,” whispered the man. “Me and a friend are on exam duty tomorrow. Up for a little game?”
He must have lost consciousness again, because he doesn’t awaken under the fox’s desk, curled up and crying.
He’s on a bed.
It’s soft and warm and for a fleeting moment, he thinks it’s her’s. He thinks that perhaps he has been granted mercy from deities beyond, allowing him to return to the warmth of her grasp. But reality came crashing down seconds later and he knew it was far too good to be true.
Shadow did not allow himself to dream. No matter how sweet the temptation seemed.
The bedroom is unfamiliar. Comic books are strewn throughout the floor, shelves upon shelves of pictures stand guard next to the door, and various posters litter the walls, the contents of which range from sports cars to landscapes. It speaks of a very particular type of resident, one he seemingly can’t escape from.
It’s obviously Sonic’s.
Did he slip between memories again? He can’t remember much following his argument with Rouge. His temple pulsates with every pound in his chest, the familiar thrum of a migraine kissing his cranium. He’d been intimately familiar with the pressure that built up in his skull - it always occurred after he felt himself slipping.
He should probably get out of here. He’s caused enough trouble.
There’s a clock in the corner of the room that he can vaguely make out if he squints. His heart lurches in his throat once his eyes meet where the little hand is pointed.
It's half past eight. In the evening.
He missed an entire day’s work.
Tower is going to murder him. If Rouge doesn’t get to him first, that is.
His head slumps back against the pillows in defeat, trying to steady the unrelenting thumping in his chest, his ribs constricted themselves around his aching heart.
He’s got to enact some damage control or he’ll never hear the end of it.
Shadow tried to pull off the covers and get back to his feet, but his hands did not cooperate. In fact, he found that he couldn’t move them at all, even as he pulled with force. His ears twitch as the sound of faint voices outside the door startles him.
He pulls again, confused. Then yet again, panicked.
He’s strapped down to the bed, ties on his wrist looped between him and the bed frame. The hedgehog pulls with as much strength as he can muster, but given his lethargy the attempt is awfully pitiful. The ties do not budge. The voices are getting closer.
His breath hitches as he tugs and tugs, and still he is held down. He cares not for the burn of the ties rubbing against his skin, even chases it as that only meant he was closer to severing the restraints. A flare of chaos energy sparked beneath his hands and the burn felt so magnificent.
He’d do whatever it took to get out. He needed out.
But the ties were unrelenting,
What were these made of? Titanium?
Damn it all.
He abandoned all caution at this point, lifting his body upwards to grant him more leverage and tugging at the restraints with every last bit of power he could manage. The crackle of energy wraps around him, piercing both the crumpled sheets and the skin of his hands as his breaths come in faint little cries.
It’s too familiar, he doesn’t want this!
He said no!
He SAID NO. HE SAID NO. HE SAID NO.
A fearful screech escaped his lips as tears blurred his vision.
He doesn’t notice the thundering footsteps just outside the door. He doesn't notice the door swing open, and a blue figure running to his side.
“Shadow! It’s alright, calm down!” cried Sonic, reaching for Shadow’s arms. If he weren’t squirming so hard, the blue hedgehog may have seen the flinch that consumed him.
But, Sonic wasn’t supposed to be like that. Sonic was supposed to be safe. Why was he restrained?
“G-Get it off! Off, off, off!” Shadow cried, hopeful that Sonic would at least listen to the sound of his voice.
Sonic raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, and said, “Before we do that, you need to breathe.”
He placed one hand on his own chest and the other hovering over the cloudy tufts of fur that blossomed from Shadow’s. Sonic drew in one deep breath that lasted far too long in Shadow’s opinion. “Are you able to do that?”
Fighting the urge to scream, to squirm, to struggle, Shadow managed a shaky inhale. This is Sonic. He wasn’t in danger. Everything is safe. Releasing the breath was difficult, as his body fought to draw the air right back in, but Sonic mirrored his movements to encourage him to breathe.
“You with me now?” he asked.
Shadow looked into those emerald eyes and hesitantly nodded. “Yes. T-Take them off.”
Sonic steps aside for a moment, revealing the form of a weary Tails with a large pair of scissors. Shadow hadn’t even noticed the young kit in the room until then. The sting of embarrassment burned his cheeks as he hiccuped.
“I’ll take them off now, but Shadow you were hurting yourself,” whispered Tails, the twin wisps of his namesake eerily still behind him.
“What?” he asked, mouth filled with an intense dryness.
“You were hurting yourself,” chimed Sonic, in a much more serious tone than Shadow had ever heard before. There were obvious times when the hero had raged against the Doctor, but this was different, this was controlled. “You scratched your arm up, you were bleeding everywhere, we just didn’t want you to do it again.”
Oh.
How naive.
How simple it must be to be in the unknown. To be in the dark.
How lucky.
“I can’t get hurt,” he mumbles, and he can’t help drifting back under.
“Professor, I’m not certain-” Shadow begins, though the man leaves no room for further resistance.
“Silence. It will work. It has to,” fumed Gerald, dragging Shadow down the hallway. The lights blared, always on, even as the rest of the space colony’s residents are well within the hands of sleep. Shadow, having been violently torn from his cage, struggled to keep up with the man’s pace, blinking away the lasting remnants of drowsiness.
“But sir, I’ve already been examined today, nothing was irregular in my cell counts,” he reasoned, paws thumping harshly against the floor.
“G.U.N is going to interrupt all the hard work I’ve put into this project, all for their nonsensical desire to have a super weapon,” Gerald spat as they approached the labs. “They want a weapon? Then, they’ll get one.”
Punching in the code with unnatural speed, the door slid open. Instead of being dragged to his usual exam table, Gerald instead shoved him to the floor, the blow taking the breath from his lungs. Coughing to clear his airways, Shadow managed to glance at his creator, stilling as the man produced a syringe.
The vial inside was small and red, but minuscule sparks of energy threatened to burst beneath the glass. Shadow could smell the burn of the chemical even from yards away.
“What is that?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“The solution,” Gerald answered. “Left over from the Project’s prototype. I’ve seen your physical capabilities, Shadow. You can handle it, I’m certain.”
“A-Are you allowed to use that on me? I thought a specific procedure was supposed to be followed.”
“G.U.N will understand, once they see the difference in your strengths. Now, you’re flawed. You’re stable, but not exceptional. This will improve everything about you,” the man spoke, his voice full of wonder and intrigue. How did this tone of voice become so foreign to him?
“Then, and only then, will you become the Ultimate Lifeform. Capable of completing every task we set you to.”
The man’s grin turned violent, a hunger present in his eyes that Shadow hadn’t seen before. How had this been the same man that awakened him, all those months before? Where was the benevolent man seeking to heal his beloved granddaughter?
Shadow’s arm wasn’t pulled, it was ripped, forcing him to his feet with strength he hadn’t been expecting. Swallowing the rising nausea, he looked up, flinching as he came face to face with his creator. Shadow could see his reflection in the man’s spectacles.
He looked terrified.
“You wish to heal Maria, don’t you?” asked Gerald with feigned kindness.
Quivering, Shadow nodded. His ears were pinned back defensively, and he cowered under the man’s gaze, but he couldn’t deny his desire. Maria deserved to live her life without her illness.
“Then you know what to do.”
And the man held out his hand, palm facing up.
There was no other option. Shadow gave his own arm in return with only the slightest hesitation, flinching as Gerald grasped the arm tightly.
The syringe was plunged deep into his vein just a moment later and his world was filled with pain. It burned. Like being dunked into a vat of magma, flames licking his skin from every direction.
A shriek quiet unlike anything he’s ever produced erupted, though it was quickly muffled by the resounding slap across his face.
“You’re hurting me!” he cried, as the energy crackled beneath him in droves. “It hurts!”
“Oh, please. It’s discipline. Your healing factor negates any damage done to you, you can’t get hurt.”
“What?” Sonic asks with worry.
Clenching both his finally freed fists and his teeth, Shadow seethes, “I can’t get hurt.
“Shadow, what is going on?”
“Uh, Sonic, you might want to give him some space.”
“But look at him! Something is happening, don’t you see it?”
But Shadow doesn’t hear either of them.
He can’t get hurt, so what’s the point?
Why does it matter so much? Why does he try and fight the inevitable, when it all just disappears?
There are no physical scars on his body. No lasting reminders of the limbs he was departed with, nor the lashes he’d been dealt, nor the lingering touch of hands. Too many hands.
It’s just so fucking funny.
It disappears from everywhere but his mind.
He can no longer see the scars, but bubbling beneath the surface, there they are. Like the marking of a map, hidden to everyone but him. Circled in invisible ink.
A giggle bursts from his lips, though it's rather wet from the tears that have begun pooling beneath his lids. His chest, aching from the continuous strain of his earlier panic, expands easily as laughter drifts again from his mouth. So foreign, so muted, so wrong.
Fucking hilarious. A goddamn comedy.
That’s what his life amounted to.
A tool to some, a toy to others. Nothing for himself.
But it’s fine. He can’t be hurt, right?
His laughter turned into sobs, heart wrenching, agonizing sobs. He feels hands again at his arms but he draws away from them, curling himself into a ball and closing his eyes, obscuring the world around him.
They say bad things happen in the dark. They teach young children to be wary of the night, for things happen in the light of the moon that ought to be strayed away from.
In Shadow’s experience, the darkness is much kinder than light.
The pit in his stomach is the biggest it’s ever been.
There’s something off about the way the scientists are looking at him. It fills him with dread, with anxiety, but mostly confusion.
The initial examination is routine, that much is for certain. He’s put through his daily tests without much fanfare. They test his shaky pulse, check the dilation in his darting eyes, shine a light down the dark expanse of his throat, all are within normal parameters.
So why does this feel weird? He knows he’s not being prepped for surgery again, as that would require an entire team of scientists - a far cry from the mere two that stand over him.
His leg still tingles occasionally. His hands burn from the raw unfiltered power that runs through his veins now.
And he’s powerless yet again.
The two men are leering over him, twin expressions of an emotion Shadow can’t quite place on their faces, smirking to each other.
It’s dead quiet, save for his own heartbeat. No one else is in the lab. Not the Professor. Not Maria.
Only him and the two scientists.
A hand cradles his chest, digging into the soft fur with eager delight, prompting a squeak from Shadow. The touch is rather firm, but it’s not clinical. It’s different somehow.
And for some reason, that frightens him the most.
“What’s going on?” he stammers, looking at the men with wide and fearful eyes. One of the men smirks and grabs his cheek, rubbing his thumb softly between Shadow’s lips. He can taste the plastic film of the gloves the man wears, and he scrunches his nose in retaliation.
“I thought I told you, Shadow. Today we’re going to play a game,” the man smirks, squeezing Shadow’s chest tightly as he spoke.
Shadow swallows, but watches as the two men lower the examination table slightly, the blinding light above him becoming even more brighter in response.
The restraints on his legs are loosened, and for a moment, he thinks the men will set him free. Maybe this is a game and he gets to participate. Maybe it’s his turn to have some fun. Then his confusion returns. His legs haven’t been released, they’ve been widened and strapped anew. Spread open on the table, Shadow feels exposed for reasons he can’t imagine.
“Have you touched yourself down here, Shadow?” the voice filtered through his ear, slightly raspy. The man’s breath puffs against his cheek, and for the first time he realizes just how close their faces were.
Shadow shakes his head, glancing nervously at where the second man has taken residence right between his legs. A hand crawls up his thigh in a manner that reminds him of the tickles that Maria had once sprung onto him. But where that had left him breathless with laughter, this made him hold his breath in apprehension.
It felt weird. Not terrible, not painful.
Weird.
“I’m not sure I like this game,” he whispers, but the men ignore him. It isn’t like he can move, with restraints holding him down. In this position, he’s powerless to deny their advances.
And advance, they do.
The hand on his thigh snakes further upward, the hand in his chest rubs further, tugging harshly. A whine slips from between his teeth, and the man next to him simply drinks it in, breathing heavily against Shadow’s cheek. It makes him cringe, smelling the faint scent of smoke in his breath.
“Professor never mentioned the little freakshow you got down here,” says the man at his feet, his hands fully pressing down on his crotch, where the most sensitive area of his body lay.
“He said something about alien DNA. Your ass just wasn’t listening.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if he mentioned this,” replied the scientist, and Shadow felt something breach.
His body wasn’t prepared for it in the slightest, the stinging burn of the stretch like lightning between his thighs. He cried out in pain, choking back a sob as fingers played with his intimates like a toy.
“S-Stop! I don’t like this!” he shouted, struggling in the restraints, but stilling as the man behind him groaned.
“Don’t worry, it’ll feel good soon enough. You just gotta relax, baby.”
Shadow winced as the fingers curled inwards, pressing into him even further. It was mauled with pain, yes, but also something much deeper that made him shudder from more than just fear.
He was enjoying this?
His cheeks burned, the room surely rising in temperature, as he stared. At himself. Between his legs.
His body was responsive. Bulging from beneath his pouch, his penis was rising due to the stimulation.
Shadow had been given only a rudimentary education in human sexual intercourse. As in, he knew the clinical terms and how sperm chased egg, and thus conception. But he had never been taught the act. Or the emotions.
Those were rather hard to gather from a textbook.
“N-No…”
“Just relax,” he heard in his ear. It was beginning to grow difficult to hear his own thoughts, drowned out by the perplexing and captivating touch of those fingers
It felt so good. So wrong.
Another finger inside, stifling his thoughts again. He hiccuped as tears mutely meandered down his ruffled cheeks. The man beside him lapped them up, the hand in his fur tightening once more.
He wanted Maria.
“Mmnh,” Shadow gasped as his pouch finally released. Bright red and distinctly alien, it stood out against his midnight fur. He trembled again as a hand held him firmly, stroking up and down in tandem with the fingers inside.
“Just a little thing, aren’t you?” against his cheek.
“So pretty,” against his thighs.
“It’s like you were made for this.”
And something burst. His mouth split open in a voiceless cry, convulsing as a new sensation rolled through him. He spilled onto the man’s hand, eyes rolling back momentarily, as the men cheered above him.
Shadow’s lips tremble, choking back another round of tears as he stares at his stained body.
“Want a taste, freak?” he hears as the man’s gloved fingers are brought to Shadow’s mouth. They’re inching closer, the thick liquid moments from his mouth, and Shadow does the best he can do to get away.
He bites the offending digits, relishing in the blood that instantly fills his mouth. Blood he knew how to deal with. Blood he was familiar with.
A cry of agony erupts from the scientist’s mouth, the sound nearly shattering Shadow’s eardrums, but the hedgehog refused to relinquish his grasp, forcing his teeth downward even further. He can feel his canines ripping through skin, through muscle, eventually finding bone, and then and only then does Shadow feel some vague form of satisfaction. The man begins pounding Shadow in the head with his spare fist, the other scientist scrambling to pull his jaw off, but the damage is done.
He feels the familiar prick of a needle in his neck, and he succumbs to unconsciousness like so many times before. He awakes in his cage, the tangy taste of the man’s blood still heavy in his mouth.
The following day he learns that three of the man’s fingers had to be amputated. Because of him. Maybe he should be happy that he has a natural defense. A tool in his arsenal he should have utilized much earlier.
But these humans are smart. They know how to circumvent his strength and render him pliant beneath them.
Next time, they bring a muzzle.
“…Shadow?”
He comes to as gloved fingers try to gently pry him from his curled position.
He doesn’t realize the fingers are not wearing surgical gloves. He doesn’t realize who the fingers belong to. He doesn’t realize anything other than the fact the fingers are there. In front of him.
Mocking him.
Taunting him.
Want a taste, freak?
Shadow lunges instinctually, snapping his jaw around the fingers.
Their owner’s reflexes were just as quick, pulling away with impressive speed. However, despite their efforts, Shadow’s fangs grazed the very tips, and the thick taste of blood filled his gums once more.
He hears a surprised grunt from above him and curls up once more, satisfied to have deterred the fingers from advancing.
“He bit me!”
“He bit you? Let me see.”
Movement above him. Stay curled up. Stay small.
“Chaos, his teeth are sharp. Damn, he got me good.”
“Sit down, Sonic, let me get a towel or something.”
Sonic.
Sonic.
Sonic?
…S o n i c ?
He bit Sonic.
He bit Sonic. Like a feral animal, locked in a cage, locked away like some pet. Animalistic nightmare. Monster.
Freak.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
FREAK. DISGUSTING WHORE.
There goes his chance for a friendship with Sonic. And likely Tails by the looks of it. If word gets out, he’ll never speak to Amy again, or the young Cream. Knuckles never really did like him but now all he’s done is give the echidna a reason to hate him. He’s already pissed Rouge off enough for her to throw him out, and Omega followed her directions, not his.
All he has is G.U.N. He’s right back to where he started.
Government property.
His hands shook and latched onto the closest thing he could manage to find - himself. He digs his claws deep, trying and failing to simulate the delicate manner in which Maria used to lovingly brush him. His rendition is a mere mockery, dragging his claws through his quills like he’s raking through coals.
He faintly hears their voices from beyond the scope of his immediate presence, but he elects to ignore them, his desire to leave overwhelming him.
In his attempt to soothe himself, Shadow’s hands find something foreign in his quills. Something nonorganic. Something teeming with power.
He still has the emerald.
He can leave this stifling room. He can end the torment on his terms, rather than being thrown out again. He can leave and never return and never have to see the faces of disappointment.
Shadow can hide his shame from the world. From Sonic. From Tails. From Rouge. From G.U.N.
Turn tail and hide like the coward he is.
All it takes is a single second to set up. The tips of his fingers grasp the emerald, the familiar thrum of its energy weaving between his own, encouraging him to say those fated words. Thick and heavy behind his lips, he closes his eyes.
“No!” he hears from behind him, and Shadow can just feel the hands that reach out for him.
But the bedroom still disappears from his vision, the comics book vanishing, the posters tearing from existence, fragments of blue leaving one lasting impression.
“C-Chaos Control!”
And he’s back on the wet grass, alone.
A warm, soft, heavenly voice.
It’s not his own. It’s not someplace he can ever reach.
The rain has calmed considerably, falling at a mere drizzle now.
It’s enough to soak his quills, cooling him amid his rapid heartbeat, but it takes a fair few minutes for his breathing to still and return to a normal cadence.
Just sitting for a moment.
He stuffs the emerald back in his quills, looking to the sky. The clouds are only intermittent, clearing in patches where the fractured ruins of the moon could faintly be seen. Portions of the celestial body danced across the sky, expanding the moonlight farther than it could have ever imagined. Among them, another fragment moved slowly across the sky.
Invisible to all but those who knew where to look. Despite its age, the Ark still joined in the moon’s orbit. His prison, his home, his sanctuary all the same - doomed to forever inhabit the moon’s shadow.
He tears his eyes away, wiping the moisture beneath them. He knows better than to think it may have come from the rain.
Shadow finally staggers to his feet, noting his surroundings. He’s in an unfamiliar field, the sky blackened by night, illuminating only by the fleeting glimpses of the moon. Wind rustles through his quills every few seconds, caressing him delicately.
It’s awfully peaceful.
He faintly recognizes the buzzing of his communicator, and quickly has the mind to get rid of it. But he knows the consequences of his disappearance. Or rather, he knows he’ll be caught eventually.
He fishes his communicator out, scrolling through the notifications.
Multiple missed calls from Sonic. One from Tails. Three from Rouge. Even one from Amy, of all people.
He switches the notifications off and powers it down, stowing the communicator away and returning his gaze to the endless expanse of grass. The city shone brightly in the distance, taunting him. But he did not wish his last moments to be in vain.
For now, he’ll wander. Just let his feet carry him to some vague destination.
Maybe it will afford him some of that peace. Some of that quiet. Maybe he’ll forget he exists.
His musing is interrupted by a different kind of crunch beneath his shoes. Not the faint hiss of him walking through grass, something different.
A sunflower.
Crushed beneath his skate.
Time stands still. He can no longer hear the faint mist of the rain, nor the gentle whisper of the wind.
Shadow can only stop and stare at the battered flower laying limp on the damp earth. Its petals, small and golden, scatter around his shoe like a halo.
And Shadow can’t help himself from dissolving into agonizing sobs again.
He’s slammed against the side of the wall hard, a hand clenching his jaw and forcing his muzzle shut, muffling his startled cries. He struggles for only a moment before realizing who the perpetrator is.
“Mmph!”
“Quiet,” the man rasps. His eyes are bloodshot beneath his glasses, staring Shadow down with a look that could only be described as crazed. “The higher ups want you restrained for what you did to that man.”
Shadow does not even begin to try and explain himself, letting his body go limp in the Professor’s arms.
“I’m supposed to escort you back to the cage. Officially, that’s what happened. Understood? If anyone asks, you went back to the cage.”
He nodded quickly, feeling his the tips of his paws tingle and burn, his lungs crying with the need for fresh air. The Professor relinquished his grasp finally and Shadow sputtered as air filled his chest again.
He had little time to recover before the man was dragging him away, leading him down yet another hallway.
“Where are we going?” he dared to ask.
“You know where.”
They rounded a corner, but Shadow found it strange. It was almost as if they were heading towards…
Maria’s door. Painted blue. Painted flowers.
“Professor?”
The man sighed and looked at his creation. For a brief moment, if Shadow looked hard enough, he could see a man wrought with exhaustion and desperation.
“Maria is having a bad flare up. The low gravity does not erase the damage of her disease, it merely slows it,” Gerald admitted. “The only thing she has asked for is you, Shadow.”
“Can I see her?”
“I would never deny her of her wishes,” said Gerald, as he swiped the card to the door.
There she was, resting on the plush bed, eerily pale. Her infusion stand hung a bag of fluids, connecting to the tube inserted into her arm. Despite her illness, despite her pain, her eyes lit up once the door opened and beckoned Shadow closer.
“Shadow,” she gasped, holding out a frail hand. The hedgehog did not hesitate to grasp it gracefully, launching himself into the bed in the process. He found his place in her lap, arms wrapped around her waist protectively.
A delighted purr rumbled from his throat as her hands ran through his quills.
Safe. He was safe in this grasp.
There were no confusing, yet shamefully pleasurable touches. No restraints other than the encouraging hold of her arms. Just Maria. Only Maria.
He didn’t know what he’d do without her.
Shadow brings a hand up to wipe his tears as the soft crunch of grass sounds behind him. His quills bristle instinctively, but he turns around anyway.
“Shadow?” a voice calls out. Through his tears he can faintly see a singular figure in the moonlight.
“Hon, there you are! I hope you’re not too mad at me, I had to track your comm offline. I know you get pretty-”
A soft gasp.
“Shadow?!”
Notes:
*smiles cutely and takes a bow*
as always, i live for feedback and comments. feel free to share thoughts, emotions, analyses, or other remarks you want to make :>
Chapter 6: can’t cope with anymore / worlds collide and days are dark
Summary:
A new visitor.
An old foe.
Notes:
welcome to ch 6 my dears!
very intriguing chapter in my opinion but again, PLEASE heed the tags
i will continue to strangle the dovechapter titles from:
chihiro - billie eilish
skyfall - adele
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Best behavior,” Gerald seethed. “I mean it.”
“Yes, sir,” muttered Shadow, staring at the metal plating on the floor.
G.U.N’s commander was arriving shortly. Here to oversee the project’s combat training. His combat training. Frankly, he didn’t know what or how to feel. The word combat has a connotation he doesn’t quite understand. War, espionage, aggression - it’s foreign to him. Words that indicate causing harm to another being. He doesn’t like that idea.
He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He hasn’t hurt any…
Oh, right. He has.
But, the scientist's fingers were only in defense, right? He didn’t mean to do that much damage, he didn’t mean to cause pain and suffering.
And now they wanted him to do it intentionally.
He swallowed thickly as the blast doors opened, revealing a large group of people, with someone very prominent at the front.
Commander Tower, Shadow surmised. He had cold amber eyes, and an expression that showed little delight. There seemed to be a permanent sneer upon the man’s face, heavily wrinkled with age. Gray hair peppered in a neat trim, meticulously groomed in proper military standards.
“Professor,” the man huffed in greeting. He did not extend his hand for a shake, like the other humans did.
“Commander Tower,” Gerald echoed back, the hand on Shadow’s shoulder clenching tightly.
“This is the Project?” Tower looked down at Shadow, who averted his eyes in response, still mute to the conversation. But his head was roughly pulled upwards amid a small squeak from him, and turned over like one inspecting a fruit, looking for any sign of impurity. “He looks…small.”
“He’s still got a few months until he reaches his full size, only a few inches off from where his natural growth should take him,” reasoned Gerald. Dare he say it, Shadow could almost hear the uneasiness in the Professor’s voice.
“Have you readied the simulation as I’ve requested?”
“Yes, the chamber in the west wing has been cleared in preparation. It hasn’t been tested, so perhaps a trial run is necessary before-”
“Negative, Professor,” the man cut him off, tearing his hand away from Shadow. “I came here to see results, I won’t have my time wasted.”
“Sir, Shadow has no combat experience! I informed you that only his medical capabilities were to be tested in his infancy, we still have not-”
“If he really is what we were promised, then he should have no problem with it,” Tower interrupts again, sauntering past the pair and walking towards the door. “I want him in the combat chamber in ten minutes time, Doctor.”
He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s never been in this situation before. Holographic entities stare him down, threatening in a way he’s never felt.
“Begin,” says a voice over the loudspeaker.
And Shadow remains frozen in fear.
The figures start moving, and it’s only then that he realizes they’re equipped with small cannons. He backpedals to the door, but it’s been locked behind him, and his eyes widen in anticipation.
The first cannon fires and Shadow only has the mind to duck mere seconds before impact. He snaps his body downward as sparks rain from above, the blow knocking him down, tearing the breath from Shadow’s lungs. But he gets back to his feet quickly.
And he runs as fast as he can. There’s little place to run however, as the room is simply a box. A white, sterile box.
They fire again, but this time, he’s not quick enough to avoid the sting that finds him. He falters, knees shot out from under him, and his left ankle twists unnaturally. Shadow lets out a pathetic yelp, but the cannons don’t stop firing.
He’s pelted with burns and scorched, even as he crumbles into a small little ball on the floor, hands over his ears to protect his sensitive hearing.
Pinch, sting, bite.
Never-ending torment.
“Simulation paused,” came the voice again, and as the singed door slid open, the Commander marched inside.
Tower sneered down at his cowering form with something akin to disgust. Shadow could see his reflection in the man’s stone cold eyes, and even he had to admit he looked pathetic. The smell of his burning fur was acrid in the air, fermented and foreboding.
“Disappointing,” he spat. “This is the Ultimate Lifeform?”
But Gerald is right on his heels, explaining, “We haven’t trained him yet, Tower. He doesn’t know how to navigate this kind of environment.”
“I gave you two weeks of warning.”
“Yes, but an…incident came up, and the facility hadn’t been prepared yet. For now, some rest would do him good.”
“It doesn’t matter what it thinks or feels. This is what it was made for,” Tower scowled, and turned back throughout the door, leaving Shadow shaking on the floor.
He’s heard that phrase so many times before. All with conflicting intentions. Who was right? Tower, leader of the organization he attributes his life to? Gerald, the scientist that designed and reared him? The scientist with the mangled fingers?
He doesn’t know who to believe. Doesn’t even think to consider himself in that equation.
It was just another unanswered question.
…what was it-no, he-really made for?
“Shadow?”
His heart thunders in his chest, but he does not turn around. He does not meet her eyes. Instead, he continues to cower on the cold, wet earth, small but lethal hiccups tearing from his diaphragm.
“Sweetie, I just got off the phone with Sonic,” says Rouge, her voice soft and cautious. Not at all like the vitriolic tone she carried from that morning. But the mention of the hedgehog’s name makes him flinch. The blood is still so thick in his mouth, so very present, and Shadow nearly gags as he’s thrown into the memory again.
How could he have bitten Sonic? How could he have let his instincts run rampant, turning him once more into a mindless animal?
How can he keep deluding himself into thinking he can be normal?
Entirely caught up in his misgivings, Shadow didn’t notice his breathing started to spiral again. At this rate, he would never breathe normally again, though perhaps that would be preferable to confronting Sonic. Maybe things would be easier if he stopped breathing altogether. Or if a larger crater opened up and swallowed him whole.
“Ok, hon, you’re hyperventilating,” he heard Rouge’s voice call, suddenly much closer to him than he had originally expected. Now, the bat was kneeling in front of him, arms around his shoulders, rubbing smooth little circles into his fur. “Let’s try and ease our breathing for a second. Do you hear me?”
He nodded as another wave of overwhelming sorrow rolled through him. Breath hitching sharply every few seconds, he tried to stabilize himself, trying to follow Rouge’s instructions, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to do so. As he sniffled and whined, Rouge’s hands pulled him tight to her chest. The smell of her perfume wafted through his nose, a saccharine cherry scent that kissed his forehead like a warm embrace.
“There we go,” she murmured. “Isn’t that much better? Just breathe.”
The subtle thumping of her heart against his ears aided in helping to bring him back down, the tear tracks staining his muzzle drying. He buried his nose into the crook of her neck, sniffling as his inhalation pattern slowly returned to a normal canter.
“Something is clearly going on, Shadow,” Rouge spoke, her voice strained. Her teal eyes shone in the moonlight with traces of dampness. “I'll be the first to say sorry for my little spit this morning, it’s affecting you more than I thought.”
“I-I’m d-damaged,” he croaked in response.
“No, you’re not. You’re you. Yes, you're stubborn, and you tend to be a little socially awkward, but so is everyone at times. It doesn’t make you any less of my friend.”
“I’m sorry,” he managed to say, mouth trembling pathetically. “Was mean.”
“It’s alright, Shadow, I forgive you. I understand you got a little pent up. Part of it was my fault for instigating you like that, especially since Omega wasn’t there to be a mediator,” she muttered, wings coming up to defend them from the ever present dew that clouded the field. “Is there anything you want to talk about, sweetheart? What’s hurting you?”
Where to begin? The Ark? The contract? The pain, the suffering, the torment? Would she listen? Or would she dismiss his cries entirely?
Questions. Questions. Questions.
don’t ask questions. they won’t answer.
“I,” he opened his mouth to speak, but the words did not come out. Rouge gave his shoulders another encouraging rub, the touch making him sigh into her grasp again. “I don’t know where to start…”
“Take your time, hon. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere,” she cooed, her voice firm, but resilient. Shadow admired that about Rouge. How, despite her own thoughts and opinions, she kept her cool.
It was so very unlike him at the moment.
Anguished, Shadow simply shook his head fiercely, and no matter the effort he put into it, he couldn’t wash away the tears that blossomed beneath his lids.
“I-I don’t think I can…”
“So something is hurting you?” she asked, looking for confirmation.
It would be so easy to lie. So easy to mask his pain like he’d done for years already. But face to face with her in such a close confrontation would make any effort to conceal it useless. She’d see right through him, she would know he was lying.
So Shadow gave a mute nod, just the barest tilt of his head in response, and her expression darkened considerably.
“Can you at least tell me when it started? A week?” she asked.
Silence.
“A month?”
More silence.
“A year?”
Her voice now bordered on crazed.
“…before stasis?”
And then and only then, did Shadow’s expression falter, and Rouge sucked in a deep breath.
“Shit, okay, um,” she started, patting Shadow softly. “We’re going to get through this. We’re going to put a stop to whatever this is.”
But she didn’t get the nature of where his pain originated. Rouge didn’t understand that the very organization she was employed by - the one that paid her and provided her housing and supplemented her meals - was holding him hostage in a contract. Trapped by the legal bindings forced upon him. Even if he were to be smuggled away from the organization, when he’s inevitably caught, who’s to say a local judge won’t dump him back on G.U.N’s doorstep.
“You can’t. I can’t, Rouge. They won’t let-”
A rhythmic beeping quieted him, originating from Rouge’s pocket. The bat pulled away from him, reaching for the buzzing phone, sliding it under her chin.
“Hold on, one second,” she whispered to him.
“Abe?” she called sweetly into the phone, and Shadow’s eyes widened and his body went rigid. He couldn’t bring himself to move.
“…Yes? I have him right now,” she spoke with confusion. Shadow couldn’t hear the man on the other side of the phone, but just imagining it filled him with utter dread.
“What do you mean? Listen, Abe, he needs-excuse me? Extradition, are you fucking insane?”
There was a rumble in the distance. His ears twitched as the ground began to shake with unnatural tremors. Like an earthquake. The only problem was that they didn’t live in a seismic zone. Shadow wanted to move, but his body was lethargic. His grip on Rouge’s bodysuit tightened, clenching his eyes shut as the sound of wheels on grass approached.
It’s over. It’s all over. He’s going back in stasis, he’s going to put away, put down. Locked away, tortured, beaten, like the animal he is. He’s never going to see Rouge or Sonic or anyone ever again.
And maybe that’ll be okay?
Maybe it will be like his suspension tank. Where he was nothing, where it was nothing. Just alive, but unable to think, unable to feel.
Maybe he’s better off dead. He’s only ever really tried once, in a half baked fit of desperation, but perhaps it’s worth another attempt.
Rouge was too pent up yelling into the phone to notice the onslaught of government vehicles heading their way. “What the fuck are you talking about? The hell you mean jurisdiction? Abe, I’m talking with Shadow right now, he needs help.”
Shadow flinched as her voice roared above him “I’m not allowed to? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I don’t care, Grandfather! They’re hurting Shadow!” cried Maria above him.
Shadow’s head was in her lap, the rest of his body curled up under the covers, whining as the voices grew louder. Only Maria’s gentle pets eased his nerves, only her touch brought him relief. His scorched fur ached, but her embrace soothed like no other.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” fumed Gerald. “It’s not like I can tell Tower to stop! He’s the one in charge, I answer to him.”
“It’s like you don’t care that Shadow is a person, Grandfather. He has feelings and he can certainly feel pain!”
“Give me a break, Maria!” the man thundered. “I’m trying so hard to cure you, the solution is there, I know it is. The only reason G.U.N funded this venture in the first place was to create a combat-ready being, and they’re here for their end of the deal. If we-Shadow puts up with this a little while longer, it will all be worth it.”
“If it’s at Shadow’s expense, then maybe I don’t want to be cured!”
He felt the ground rumble beneath him and he clenched his eyes shut, the incoming wave of trucks and cars and vehicles hellbent on seizing him, an out of control animal, arriving in the distance.
Foot soldiers run up to them, guns drawn. Even though Shadow keeps his face buried in the soft tufts of Rouge’s neck, he recognizes the sound of the weapons powering on. G.U.N’s been using the same manufacturer for decades. The only real difference between these ones and the firearms from before is the efficiency. Whereas the old guns were indeed capable of dealing harm, they were mainly utilized in slowing suspects down, much like a taser.
These ones are lethal.
“Ugh, he hung up on me? The nerve of this guy, to even think-What’s going on?” Rouge called out to the approaching agents, suddenly noticing their presence. Her eyes widen in apprehension, arms protectively guarded over Shadow, as more and more soldiers surround her.
Tower’s voice thundered throughout the enclosed circle of machinery, slightly mechanical. He must be talking through some sort of loud speaker. It makes Shadow shake all the same.
“Agent Rouge. Hand over the Project,” comes the man’s voice. Shadow’s ears flatten to his skull, trying and failing to drown out the noise. The footsteps of the soldiers, the crunch of grass. That sunflower ought to be flattened by now.
But Rouge does not cower. In fact, her voice seems to match in intensity, at a volume Shadow had never heard her scream at before.
“Excuse me?” She roars, wings fluttering in response to her violent outburst. “Project? He’s not some thing! What the hell are you doing here anyway? I always have my tracker off when I’m off-duty. How did you find us?”
“I’m afraid that matter is confidential,” he sneers back at her. “But you must release him, or face disciplinary action.”
She scoffs, refusing to ease her grip around him. Shadow’s eyes open a fraction at the sound of a helicopter whirring above, where a spotlight has been planted on the two of them, illuminating the field in a blinding shade of white. He has to squint to see the trucks surrounding them. “Where are you taking him? What the actual fuck is going on, Abe?”
The man’s voice suddenly sounds a lot closer. Real. Tower has emerged from one of the trucks, the medallion and badges on his uniform only just giving away his position.
“I’m afraid that’s between him and I only, Rouge,” is his curt response. Vague. Opaque. Hidden in obscurity.
Like Shadow’s contract.
“No, see that’s not gonna happen, alright? This is my friend, and if you think I’m going to sit here and let you - hey!” screams Rouge as her grip is violently relinquished. He can’t bring himself to move, the voices around him ringing in his ears. “Let him go! Stop!”
Shadow felt arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him from her soft fur, her familiar voice. There’s no more wet grass beneath him, no more tight bodysuit he’s clinging to. His hands meet air instead.
Using her heels as some sort of makeshift weapon, Rouge has taken to beating the man senseless with as much strength as she can muster. The man’s armor shields him from much of her assault, though the occasional stab from the point of her heel threatens to cut deep.
“Give him back! What are you doing?” screams the bat again. There’s a bit of a struggle, like Shadow is some plaything being tugged on both ends by a pair of mangy canines. He clenches his shut again and tries to stop breathing, hoping for a quick and easy return to nothingness.
Another slam of her heel. Another tug away from her.
“Stand down, Rouge,” repeats Tower.
“No, fuck you! I won’t until you give Shadow back to-augh!”
The bat was thrown into silence by a resounding slap. It threw her to the floor, roughly, damp dirt staining her otherwise pristine snow tinted fur. Guns are immediately pinned onto her, with Rouge raising her arms in surrender, eyes blown and stunned as she has suddenly become the target in their scopes. She drops the scuffed heel onto the grass below.
Shadow’s eyes fade into pinpricks. It’s like he’s watching from the outside.
There’s blood on her nose, so very distinct against her muzzle. Despite her name, red isn’t her color, pink is. It’s the color of her blush, her favorite lip gloss, the accents of her outfit. Her phone case, her keys, her hairbrush, all in a dusty bubblegum shade of pink.
Pink elevates her face. Red stains it.
Like how red stains blue fabric.
The guns are drawn.
Shadow’s chest clenches tight.
“Stop! Stop! I’ll go with you, just don’t hurt her!” he howls, throwing his hands up in an attempt for the soldiers to grant her mercy. Squirming against the one keeping him bound, he locks eyes with Tower. “Tower, please. Don’t hurt her, she doesn’t know. She’s innocent!”
“She just assaulted an officer.”
“Who assaulted her right back! Abraham, please! Just let her go, I’ll come with you,” he pleads, with as much desperation as his voice can convey.
There’s a scowl on the man’s face that reminds Shadow so very much of his predecessor. The same greying hair, the same clean trim. The only difference was the eyes. They narrow in malice but ultimately relent. The man raises his hand, and Shadow can breathe again.
“At ease,” Tower says at last, and the guns are lowered instantly, though the men don’t move. Rouge heaves with relief, but her eyes are still trained on Shadow’s trembling form. Silently watching as he’s pulled away from her.
Hands run roughly through his quills, finding and seizing the emerald in little time. All hope of escaping has suddenly left his meager body, and he deflates and remains limp. His hands are cuffed in front of him, snapped just beneath his inhibitor rings without so much as a struggle from him. Shadow is roughly pulled to his feet, practically dragged to the back of an armored van, and none so gently pushed inside. Three soldiers follow him in, eyes trained on him.
And the agents surrounding Rouge finally leave her alone, running to their respective places in vehicles beyond.
She lets him leave her sights. But her eyes shine in understanding, in utter disbelief. The reason behind his panic, the reason behind all the arguments, all the fighting, all the grief was standing right in front of her the whole time.
G.U.N is the enemy responsible for all his torment. And Rouge had unknowingly been complacent in his pain.
He can faintly see her form disappear from view before the back doors are bolted shut, and the truck begins to move.
He can feel his bottom half being split open, roughly tearing itself apart to try and fit the intrusion. A thick liquid he knows must be his own blood pools at his knees, after running down the lengths of his legs. If he focused solely on his limbs, the red could almost be mistaken for his natural stripes.
“He was right, you are tight, damn,” something grunts in his ear.
But the blood's presence was anything but natural.
The muzzle wrapped around his head was proof enough already, and the uncomfortable feeling of his arms being pinned behind him left much to be desired.
Loud and pained noises fill the small closet, echoing off the walls and reflected back into his ears - it takes him more than a few seconds to realize those noises are coming from him. His vision blurs as roughly pushed into the surrounding walls, thrust into again, and again, and again.
The man wraps a hand around Shadow’s throat as his thrusts increase, and the hedgehog's mind slips away once more, attempting to hide in his thoughts.
Just let it happen. It will be done soon anyway, he tries to reason to himself. But the tears find him regardless, dripping precariously on the fitted muzzle.
You’re almost done. Y-You’re almost done.
At least, until the next soldier finds him alone. Until, they bring a friend or two, and take turns holding him down. Until they slam his head into the wall, taking him as stars shoot through his eyes.
Until, the scientists start selling the sedatives to the soldiers under the table. Until, they hold him at gunpoint and make him touch them.
Until-
“Almost makes me want to take Maria for a spin. There’s gotta be a reason the Professor keeps Rapunzel in her tower.”
And in an instant, something breaks.
The smell of ozone expands through the small room, amplified by the confines of its size. His fingers burn and sizzle, raw, unfiltered power crackles just beneath the surface.
With a scream of utter rage, Shadow rips his arms free and twists out of the man’s grip, kicking him roughly away from him. The man has little time to recover before Shadow’s instincts tell him to point his hands over the armored chest.
Kevlar only protects against bullets.
Three spears erupt from his hands, and like heat-seeking missiles, bury themselves into the soldier’s ribcage. The man screams, only for a fraction of a second, but it’s cut out from the source.
Only one of the spears was off. Two puncture lethally.
Amid heavy breathing, Shadow realizes he’s just made his first kill.
The silence that follows is stifling. His hands tremble as the burn beneath them fades, his lips are trapped in an open cry, muzzle still wrapped around his head. Just staring at the mangled form of the man who caused him so much pain.
And Shadow ended his life.
His throat constricts, faint impressions of the man’s finger prints painted blue beneath his fur. The walls are closing in, he needs to get out, he needs Maria, he needs, he needs-
As he stumbles out of the closet, unconsciousness takes hold of him, the stench of blood running beneath his nose.
Whether it was his blood or the soldier’s, he could not discern.
He wakes up in the cage, with four gold bands wrapped around each of his ankles and wrists. It’s an added weight he’s not used, and he spends that morning stumbling around getting used to them. Maria helps him of course, watching him like a hawk, her eyes knowingly glaring at anyone who dared to even look at Shadow.
Gerald instructs him to never remove the rings. Inhibitors, they’re called. Meant to restrict the amount of energy he can actively draw from himself.
Apparently, in his rage, he drew so much power from his natural reserves that he fluttered on the verge of death. He was immediately seized and resuscitated, with countless individuals working tirelessly to save him. And the scientists realized a fatal flaw in their design. When it came down to the wire, there was no mechanism in place for him to safely recover his energy. If he used it all, he threatened death.
Thus, the inhibitors were drafted and constructed with haste.
And like magic, his performance in the combat simulations improved dramatically. Suddenly, he was able to dodge, weave, evade the enemies with unnatural speed. Where his power had been unfocused at best before, a certain element of control was added. He could selectively warp time and space in little bursts. His spears, while smaller, honed in precision.
The inhibitors, intended to keep his power at bay, have unwittingly increased his stamina, his versatility, his usefulness.
If the soldier had never assaulted him, then the feat of Shadow’s power may have never been actualized. The man was given a Medal of Honor posthumously, recognizing him for his great service and dedication to his country.
Shadow sobbed into her arms the night he found out, the rings burning like magma into his wrist.
As the truck rumbled and groaned, bouncing him as it ran over rocks and potholes in the road, Shadow fumbled with his inhibitors. Scratching the latch every so often anxiously, eyeing the soldiers and their guns with every bump in the road.
Tower is in another truck. There’s nothing stopping these men from taking what they carnally desire.
He knows realistically they won’t. That they are bound by duty to obey the orders from Tower, observing him on the transport back to G.U.N.
But so had been the other soldier.
It’s the mere fact they could that unsettles him.
The journey is surprisingly long, at least according to Shadow’s internal clock. He didn’t even recognize the field he was in, though, so he has no point of reference for where they might possibly be.
But the turn into G.U.N HQ is as recognizable as the sun on a hot summer day. When the truck churns and sputters mechanically to a stop, the soldiers all stand up, with their guns at the ready, and motion for him to leave through the now open door of the back.
Shadow obeys, wordlessly following the men through the lower level of the building. He faintly registers the passage of hallways, of stairs, of rooms far larger than he is, with windows as far as the eye can see.
However, at this time of night, the outside isn’t visible, instead just reflecting the hallways back to him. The windows turn into mirrors.
It’s difficult to avoid his reflection, keeping his head down and just following the shoes in front of him. Silently praying he doesn’t run into a vision of him walking to his demise. He doesn’t want to see the disaster that is himself. Dried tears ruffle his fur, muddied blood and shoddy bandages from where Tails had attempted to soak up his cuts.
It’s hard to breathe, with all the uncertainty. What was Tower going to do to him?
He violated the contract, he missed an entire day. An entire day of G.U.N’s weapon going unaccounted for. He was toast.
As they reached Tower’s office, Shadow swallowed the urge to vomit down, though his stomach remained queasy. Despite him not being able to get sick, his nerves and his stomach were linked together. The air around him was stiflingly hot and thick, and sweat beaded around his neck.
And as soon as he opened the door and was forced inside -
“Sit down, Shadow. Let’s chat.”
Notes:
i have no military training nor experience and if it’s incredibly obvious in my writing than i apologize(i don’t care enough to do proper research, im just going with what feels right)
we stan rouge the karen in this household (she’s completely justified lmao)
i know i’ve been ranting about this on my twitter for DAYS now but i am so goddamn excited for the next chapter yall are NOT PREPARED LMAOOO)
in fact the next chapter might be out like super quickly just because of this specific scene i want to write and im restraining myself because i need to know the exact context for it and i still haven’t written it - but its in my mind and thats what counts!
i have a general pathway for where the main story (in the present at least) is going to take, but i need to do a bit of research into sa2 lore for me to write it but so so so excited!
thanks for reading!
now gimme those comments
Chapter 7: if the world was ending/woke up from a dream
Summary:
Run, boy, run.
Notes:
i got this one out so fast good lord
i’m posting this half asleep so if there’s some blatant errors forgive me
i don’t really know what to say rn. sorry for making quite a few of you cry btw. i laugh evily from my dungeon every time i read a comment like that
chapter title from:
die with a smile - lady gaga and bruno mars
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the dead of night, or at least in the simulated night of the Ark, Shadow gets a visitor.
Locked in the confines of his cage, he twitches as the door quietly announces the stranger’s presence. Dazed and slightly confused, he continues to doze, neck bent awkwardly at an angle that leaves his back sore and achy. Dreaming of Maria’s soft and plushy bed, and perhaps longing for one of his very own. Dreaming of Earth, of sunlight, of flowers.
“Wake up, freak!”
And Shadow’s eyes open wide to see a familiar face, with familiar eyes, staring back at him.
“Wha…Abraham?” he asks, yawning and blinking away the lasting imprints of sleep. He often was forcefully woken early for testing, when he would rather doze in peace, but this interruption was noticeably early. “What are you doing here?”
“You don’t need to know that,” is the boy’s curt response, muttered through clenched teeth. In anger? Fear? It didn’t matter.
But, at the moment, it confused Shadow, who said perplexedly, “I think it’d be pretty reasonable if I asked, given that you’re here at-Ow!”
Something pressed against his chest aggressively, searing against fur and skin, and it burned. Not the hot burn that came from standing too close to an open flame, but the static burn that resulted from an electric shock. The acrid scent of burnt toast. Or an electric hair dryer.
Abraham had one of the soldier’s tasers.
“I’ll be asking the questions, freak,” he said, brandishing the taser like a broadsword, pointing it threateningly at the hedgehog.
“W-What are you doing?” Shadow asked, bewildered. Yes, Abraham and he didn’t seem to be on the best of terms, but this sort of aggravation was sudden, and out of the blue. And something new was always scary.
Another zap, this time in his thigh. He yelped as the sting hit him, backing away as far as he could manage.
“What did I just say? Quiet!”
Enclosed by the limits of his current entrapment, Shadow listened. He could feel the point of impact from the taser turning mottled blue and purple beneath his fur, his fingers twitching as residual droplets of pain shuddered through him. His eyes returned to the boy wearily.
Abraham looked satisfied with Shadow’s compliance. A smug little smirk. It seemed to run in the Tower family, as the elder commander Tower had smiled so sinisterly too. It was almost uncanny. “Now, what are your plans with her?”
“My plans?” he blinked. “With who? What plans?”
“The only her you know, Maria!”
Glaring at the boy, Shadow growled, “I have no plans with her.”
“Yeah, right,” Abraham scoffed. His eyes were bouncing around Shadow’s figure in distrust. “You’re probably going to abduct her and kill her, now that you’ve earned her trust, you alien freak. It’s a wonder how no one seems to realize that.”
…what? What sort of nonsense was he spewing? It seemed like something out of Maria’s old sci-fi novels. The ones he disliked for their rather distasteful depictions of ‘aliens.’ He didn’t need the reminder that he was most unnatural to the world. Maria respected that, and promptly removed them from her shelf. They have since been replaced with novels and encyclopedias about Earth.
“What are you talking about?” he asked at last, keeping his words measured and slow. Their current predicament left him in no position to challenge him - at least not without alerting the staff.
But the boy stomped his foot in fury, screeching, “You’ve done something to turn her against me, I know it!”
Was he referring to Maria being his friend? No, she was more than his friend. She was his everything. She listened to him, comforted Shadow when he was in pain, stood up for him, stood up to Gerald. It was the least he could give in return to do the same for her.
“If you’re talking about basic kindness, then yes, I guess I’ve done something,” he spat, staring back at the boy defiantly. He had little confidence in standing up to the men that dominated in his life - but this child was nothing. “Something you clearly lack!”
That only seemed to upset Abraham more. His fists clenched, his teeth grinded, and his brow furrowed dangerously. His hold on the taser tightened, now weiding it dangerously close to Shadow’s upturned snout. “Shut. Up! She's mine.”
And Shadow felt a rush of anger. This child dared to claim Maria as a prize? Someone like her deserved the world. Deserved to sprout her wings and fly away from this wretched place.
“Maria will never be yours. Nor will she ever be mine,” he yelled back. “She is free!”
Unlike me, he didn’t have to say it in order for the notion to ring true. Especially given that he was in a cage.
“It doesn’t matter what she is, she’s mine!”
“No, she’s not!”
And before he could even comprehend his own actions, Shadow lunged with as much leverage as he could manage, claws drawn, extending his hand through the cage. He scratched the boy across the cheek, talons deftly swiping through skin. Chalky blood splattered onto the floor, thick beneath his pointed paws.
Abraham’s eyes were widened. So were Shadow’s.
Both in fear.
Fear of the monster that just attacked him.
Fear of the monster he’d unknowingly became.
“You’re going to regret that,” the boy cried, and ran from the room, abandoning the taser in his haste. It rolled and rolled until it thunked against Shadow’s cage, the noise almost making him flinch.
With a pit of dread settling deep in his stomach, Shadow had an inkling the boy may just be right.
Shadow sat down obediently at Tower’s command, swallowing at the added height difference it afforded them. While nearly identical to his father, Tower had grown quite a few inches taller, and it certainly made Shadow feel smaller by comparison. Nearly all humans did.
She hadn’t.
“Did you really think we weren’t going to find you?” Tower sneered down at him, much like a boot would find a snail on the ground.
Realistically, Shadow knew he would be caught. He’s never been free his entire life, it would never be that simple. But, perhaps he thought he could believe for a second that he may have had a chance of freedom. A taste. A glimpse.
“Answer me, Shadow,” the man roared, and Shadow meekly glanced down at his feet, thoughts of dreams abandoned.
His inhibitors shone above his ankles, reflected in the sterile light of the man’s office. Muted gold. His own reflection stared back at him, small.
“No, sir,” he mumbled, faint and diminished.
Small.
“Exactly. We implanted a tracker in you years ago in case you ever ran off,” admitted Tower, certainly proud of the fact.
Shadow stilled. And the dreams shattered.
It didn’t matter how far he traveled, how securely he hid, how bad he wanted it.
G.U.N had always known where he was.
The glimpse of freedom had been a fantasy. Not real. A mimicry of another life, snuffed out by the fact that Shadow is never going to get out of this place. He’s never going to wake up in a soft bed and have the choice to snooze a little longer. He’s never going to decide to splurge on a treat at the bakery he’s always wanted to visit. Never going to be tucked in again, never going to be held again, never, never, never.
Never going to be loved.
“W-Where?” he dared to ask. He felt foreign in his own body, knowing just beneath the surface, the key to his torment rested right in G.U.N’s grimy little hands.
Collar. Leash.
Muzzle.
“You think I would tell you where?” the man laughed derisively and it's a deep tone that shakes Shadow to his very core. “At the time, I thought it had been a little overkill, but now seeing as you believe you have the right to violate the terms of our agreement, it's worth its weight in gold.”
His skin felt itchy at those words. Like Tower had activated a thousand ants to crawl beneath his skin. A million particles floating in his veins, all deigned to cause him disturbance.
“I-I just lost track of time, sir,” he attempted to reason. It was a horrible excuse, especially in his line of work. “It won’t happen again.”
“I’m sure it won’t, Agent, but that’s not why we are here.”
A foreboding tone. He was in for it, now. What was his punishment? An endless mission? His day off stripped? More mindless paperwork?
“…sir?” he asked, bracing.
“You’re going to be placed in a holding cell for the remainder of the month while we sort things out.”
Mouth agape in protests, he sputtered. “Things? What things? What cell?”
G.U.N had holding cells in the floors below the ground for dangerous criminals and captured fugitives. He’s only been down there a few times in his ‘career’ and each and every time, it reminded him of his time in stasis. Was he really on that caliber now? After all his years of service?
That’s what they thought of him.
Something dangerous.
“After tonight, it is clear what must be done in order to ensure your future compliance. Effective immediately, Team Dark has been disbanded.”
A pin dropping would have been more audible than the silence that followed. The very atoms of oxygen bouncing against each other would have produced a louder sound.
Utterly stunned, Shadow stared at the man. He was losing Rouge, perhaps one of the only pillars still holding him up. He was losing Omega, the glue that held his team together. His team no longer? Oh fuck, he’d really done it now.
“Agent Rouge will be given notice of her termination in two days time. E-123 Omega will be given new mission parameters, and your medical evaluation will be conducted with or without your consent,” Tower enunciated. Enough leeway had been given for Shadow’s antics, that much was clear.
Shadow stood up, enraged, his chair falling from his quickly he got to his feet, knocking against the carpeted floor with a dull thud. His only semblance of a life was about to be torn to shreds, and it had once again been because of the man in front of him.
Shadow refused to make the same mistake twice.
“You can’t do this!” he raged, slamming his hands down on the man’s desk. It was only due to the heavy cuffs that sparks didn’t fly in his fury.
Tower stared him down, unrelenting. There was little emotion in his gaze, so very cold, so very intimidating. “I’m afraid I already have.”
“When do I get to decide?” Shadow screamed, tears of despair and rage flooded the corners of his eyes. “When do I get to choose what I want for my own life?”
“You made your choice, sit down!” yelled Tower back, leaning across the desk so that Shadow had to stare up at him to challenge him.
“I didn’t want to!” protested Shadow.
He remembered the original cell all too well. It could have been days, weeks, months. All he knows is that at some point, that faded piece of parchment was thrust into his face and he had no choice but to sign.
“Your name is on that paper, Shadow. You belong to Government. You’re not a citizen, not a refugee, you don’t have any legal status apart from the contract.”
“And who’s fault is that? I didn’t ask to be created! I didn’t ask to not be born like normal! You fuckers created me! You’ve controlled me, you’ve antagonized me, you used me! I can’t do anything without you and your organization lurking behind my back.”
“You’re lucky not to be sent back into stasis, Shadow!” the man yelled, pressing a button beneath his desk. The door behind them opened immediately, a soldier rushing in. “Get him out of here and escort him down to sub level thirteen. He’s to remain there for the foreseeable future.”
“Yes, sir.”
And when the soldier dragged him by the cuffs, Shadow didn’t have it in him to fight anymore.
Tower had won.
The walk to the elevator was tense. Shadow’s steps were measured, sure, but his hands shook with rage, bound by the cuffs.
Always bound by the inhibitors.
In the quiet of night, G.U.N HQ was abnormally silent. Though he couldn’t tell the time, Shadow had never been here this late. At least, he never walked the halls this late. Shadow had always warped home with the convenience of a chaos emerald.
But now…home was likely going to be stripped from him, too. There went Rouge’s usual clutter. Her beauty accessories and clothes strewn about. Omega’s charging pad. And there went the little sunflower.
He hoped Sonic wouldn’t be too mad.
The elevator was a thick, solid steel behemoth. It was sleek, metallic, and imposing, looming before him like the gates of hell. Shadow didn’t like elevators. He much preferred stairwells, with their well-ventilated atmosphere. Elevators were always so tight and confining just like his stasis chamber had been.
“So, Shadow,” the soldier began as soon as those doors closed. He starts punching in a code in the console near the door, his back to Shadow. It’s not like anything matters anymore though. It’s not like he’ll see the light of day again, so he doesn’t even bother trying to sneak a glance.
“I heard from the grape vine that you’re crazy in the sheets, if you know what I mean, “ the soldier said, looking over his shoulder and clicking his tongue suggestively.
“Excuse me?” Shadow asked, utterly horrified.
“Well, just offering to take you for a ride is all. Seeing as you might not get any action for a few weeks. Might as well offer my services,” the man smirked.
And he’s suddenly behind Shadow, squeezing his waist, drawing a thin gasp from the hedgehog. His fingers slide down, down, down. There’s pressure against his backside, like something is pressing into his spine and Shadow’s eyes widen.
Fingers keep moving down.
The air is thin. Shadow is breathless. He’s trapped in an elevator.
Fingers.
Down.
Breach.
Something gives.
And all the pain. The loss. The grief. The torment. The rage. The frustration. The fear. The desperation.
Rouge. Omega. Tails. Sonic.
Maria.
Those thoughts spiral, taking his mind captive and never relenting.
Fingers travel.
At the same time, something snaps.
As it turns out, it takes less time to kill a man than for an elevator to travel thirteen floors.
Shadow comes to as the elevator doors swing open to reveal the thirteenth level below ground. There’s even a happy little chime to go with it, cheerful and entirely misleading. His hands, previously cuffed, are now free, but coated in thick, heavy blood.
He releases what’s left of the man in shock, hands shaking as he takes in the damage.
The soldier's neck was snapped backwards, almost like an owl, but incredibly unnaturally. His eyes were unblinking, glazed over morbidly. Claw marks are gauged into the man’s neck from where Shadow had gripped him, barely dried crimson gashes. It looked like he had been mauled.
His hands tremble as nervously presses the button to return to the floor that Tower’s office is on. Thankfully, the same security measures were not required to go up to the lesser restricted floors than to go down to the maximum security ones.
He shakes a small puddle of the blood that accumulates on his skates, sliding off the smooth material with ease, thankfully. Trying to control his breathing, trying to ignore the scent of flesh. Keeping his head firmly up, not looking at the mangled body on the floor.
Blood in his teeth, blood beneath his fingers, blood on a blue dress.
If he could just find where G.U.N had put the tracker, then maybe he could make a run for it. Abandoning this life, Rouge, Sonic, Omega, but then he would be free. Maybe they were the cost of his freedom.
When the elevator doors swing open again, Shadow nervously steps out.
The hall is quiet. Much quieter than it should be, and Shadow’s breaths nearly stop in order to conceal as much noise as possible. But his shoes squelch from where they were soaked and it makes the task infinitely more difficult.
He passes Tower’s office. The man is still there, sitting at his desk and writing. Shadow sneaks by the window, ducking low in order to avoid the man’s sight. His heart is racing, far more than running with Sonic. The pounding is in his very ears.
He doesn’t dare break into a run.
However, when he gets to the end of the hall, a shrill alarm interrupts the quiet, causing his ears to fold against his skull instinctually.
Agent Shadow is loose! I repeat, Agent Shadow is loose!
And now he has no choice but to run. It’s not the first time he’s run from G.U.N.
Not the first time, indeed.
He feels more than hears the barrage of soldiers that come his way. The ground shudders from their footsteps, shaking him to his core, as he activates his skates and charges down the hall, cursing himself for not knowing the layout more accurately. Now that Shadow was without an emerald, escaping was going to be much harder.
“Get him!” they yell.
“Get him!” they yell.
Both visual and auditory alarms blare in the hallways, loud alarms and bright lights flashing in every corner of every room.
His hand is in hers as they barrel down the long hallway, the stars in the windows passing by in a blur. On a normal day, he and Maria quite liked walking down this hallway, pointing out the constellations they knew and making up names for the ones they didn’t.
This was not a normal day.
In fact, this might be the worst day of Shadow’s life. And to be honest, that’s saying something.
They pass half-open doors. Due to the airlock system aboard the Ark, its protocol for doorways to always be clear, and to remain closed unless in use. Gerald instilled the importance of such policy, warning over and over of fire hazards and other dangers associated with maintaining a space colony orbiting the moon.
The doors are open.
Blocked by the bodies of the staff.
“Keep running, Shadow!” Maria pants, cheeks flushing red with exertion.
She’s leading him. Not the other way around. Because as soon as those agents barreled their way into the labs, Shadow froze in fear. All his knowledge in combat was useless. Mostly because he didn’t think that he would have to use that information against those who taught him in the first place. But Maria locked their hands together and ran, activating the secure lock behind her to give them time to get ahead.
They heard gunshots. Loud, then quiet pops the further they ran.
Screaming, then silence.
“They’re after you, Shadow! I knew they weren’t to be trusted, I knew they were only there to hurt you,” she said, panting and running even further. There was fear in her eyes, but they still shone with determination.
“Where do we run?” he asked, looking to her for guidance. He’s always looked to her or Gerald for guidance. It was difficult to comprehend what he would do without her.
“There’s nowhere we can run,” she heaved with every step. It’s clearly the most exercise she’s done in months. “The Ark has no place to hide. We need to leave, Shadow.”
Leave his only home? Leave the only place he’s ever known?
“How?” he asked her.
“A couple weeks ago, Grandfather told me the launch codes to the escape pods. He knew this would happen eventually. I just hope he’s alright.”
But she soon began faltering with every step, every breath she drew haggard. The low gravity wasn’t enough to keep her illness at bay and it was rapidly becoming apparent that she could not go on for much longer.
“But your condition!” he cried. “If we go down to Earth, what will happen to you?”
“I’ll be alright, Shadow,” she said. Her voice was tense and for a moment, she sounded exactly like the Professor. Despite the shared last names and the familiar bond, Maria differed greatly from Gerald. “You just have to trust me.”
“There they are!” they heard as a group of soldiers caught up to them, their footsteps down the steel floors sounding like a derby of racehorses. The men advanced on them easily, easily outmaneuvering a frail girl and her fearful companion.
And then, the hallway began to curve, offering them the faintest bit of cover.
“Fire on sight!”
A parade of bullets come barreling down the hallway, nearly inaudible against Maria’s screams. The pair duck low as the shots ricochet around them.
The doors to the launch bay are straight ahead. In just a few seconds, they’ll be safe. They’ll be free.
But nothing went that easily for Shadow.
Maria lurched next to him, nearly tripping over her feet. Red seeped from her blouse, her abdomen stained with the crimson, blossoming away from the wound with every passing second.
“Maria!”
Shadow’s heart nearly stopped then and there, gripping her hand tight. He looked behind him as the volley of gunfire continued, just as they reached the door. The girl let out a pained grunt, and Shadow faltered, turning himself to view her, but a stray bullet lodged itself into his shoulder in the process.
Maria, bless her, had enough strength to open the door and type in the secure lock, before falling to her knees. Ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder, he helped the girl stand, wincing as more blood continued to pour from her wounds.
There were constant slams against the blast doors.
“G-Get in the pod, Shadow,” she grunted. “I need to activate it.”
“Shouldn’t I, hn, wait for you?” he said, holding his shoulder firmly despite the blood flowing down his gloves. It was a thick, sticky, and unpleasant feeling, the mixing of their blood.
“Just get in! We need to leave, now. Wait for me. I’m the one that knows the code,” she murmured, giving him a soft smile.
Her guidance had never failed him before. Sullenly, he stepped into the escape pod. A wave of deja vu hit him at once. His suspension tank had a similar design to the pod. Almost like he was home.
And then the doors slammed shut behind him.
He swiveled his head to the girl, to the beautiful girl with tears in her eyes and blood in her mouth.
“Maria?” he called through the tube, slamming his hands against the glass in an effort for her to recognize her error. Surely, this was a mistake. A misinput.
“I’m sorry, Shadow. But I'm not gonna make it to Earth. But there’s a chance that you can and that makes it all worth it,” Maria called to him, her fingers dangling precariously over the launch button.
Shadow banged on the glass, screaming at her to stop. To release him. He’d rather die with her than be cursed to live alone.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you. I’m sorry you had to get hurt,” she was now sobbing, the blood spreading. Her dress was soaked. He almost couldn’t tell the original color was meant to be blue.
“Please, for all the people on that planet, find a way to help them, Shadow. Do it for me.”
The blast doors slammed open. Soldiers flooded the room.
It was like the world had slowed to crawl. The men were moving at half their speed, so too had Shadow’s continual pounding. But effervescent Maria stood the test of time, talking at her normal angelic cadence.
“Forgive humanity for its wrongdoings, Shadow. I beg of you.”
And the last thing he saw before her chest exploded in a blast of red was her kind smile.
Amid his tears, his cries, his pain, Shadow was launched into the abyss of stars, and the Ark was no more.
Heart pounding, Shadow ran like his life depended on it.
He slammed into walls as he barreled around corners, scanning for any possible exits. The one by the in-house cafe was tied to an alarm. The fire escape notified the fire department. The roof was only accessible by authorized personnel, and Shadow was public enemy number one at this point, so he wasn’t getting up there anytime soon.
While Shadow couldn’t Chaos Control without the added power of an emerald, he could manipulate time and space minutely. Create a pathway mere inches in front of him in a last ditch effort to dodge. Finding that out had been an accident. Gerald blew on an old parchment that flooded Shadow’s nose with dust. When he sneezed, he warped nearly three feet in the air, though that had been before his inhibitors were introduced.
He hasn’t tried it in a hot minute, but with seemingly no exit in sight, it was worth an attempt.
Instead of turning the corner like the pathway suggested, he ran straight into the window, drawing on his power until the static burned beneath his fingertips again. Closing his eyes and desiring himself to feel the cool night air he warped to the outside-
-three stories up.
He yelped as he plummeted, barely having the mind to drop into a roll when he inevitably hit the ground. But G.U.N HQ was situated on a hill, so he tumbled down, sticks, leaves, and various other natural debris slamming into him as he went.
It was still when his momentum had halted. But Shadow knew better than to let himself rest for even a second. Somewhere on his person was a homing beacon, ripe for G.U.N’s use. It needed to come out, but with no way to tell where it might be, Shadow was a sitting duck.
But at the very least, he could put some distance between him and them. Run back to the city. Maybe grab the sunflower, if it hasn’t wilted already.
At the sound of voices, Shadow bolted, tearing from the bottom of the hill in a flash of gold. And like his movements his thoughts were also approaching super sonic speed.
Glass tubes.
Wind.
City lights.
…Impact?
“Chaos, man, we gotta stop running into each other like this!”
Blue.
He quite liked that color.
Notes:
hope you enjoyed!
next chapter we FINALLY get to meet some of the characters that have been tagged since the beginning (only took 30k words lmao)
and perchance some sonadow crumbsas always i adore comments i read every single one
thanks for reading!
Chapter 8: it’s you and your friends / they’re calling your name
Summary:
A star crashes to Earth.
Its dust gathers on more than a few new faces.
Notes:
yippeee!!!!!! it’s done!!!!!
i’ve been thinking over this chapter for the last several weeks and i’m so excited i finally nailed down the progression!
it isn’t a terribly long one, but it’s certainly impactful.
chapter title from
find your flame - sonic frontiers soundtrack
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There was no wind in space.
No atmosphere, no gentle breeze carrying the soft scents of the world around him like she had told him. The sun shone in the distance, impossibly bright and commanding, but its warmth didn’t reach him. His body wracked in shivers, in fact. Cold. Lost. Alone.
It took three days to reach Earth.
Shadow stayed awake for the entirety of the journey, frozen in place, eyes open but not quite seeing. The wound in his shoulder had already begun to heal over, but it was nothing compared to the hole in his heart. He sat there, unable to look away from the sight that would forever burn his psyche.
Red.
As far as he could see, muddying the distant stars and glimpses of the cosmos. Milky Way, Andromeda, all covered in the thick and opaque liquid that caked the escape pod’s front like spilled milk. Spilled blood.
No, wait. It was spilled blood.
Her blood. Oh, oh. No.
NOnonoNO nonONONonO.
She’s gone. She left him. She sent him away. All the pain, all the suffering, all the torment he’d suffered just for the relief of her embrace was worthless. There would be no gracious reprieve at the end of the day. No soft bed to run to, no frail and delicate hand to hold. No beautiful angel to make him feel small and loved.
The blood staining the escape pod didn’t part with him until it burned up entering Earth’s atmosphere. He watched as it withered away like a hearth’s dying embers, taking a piece of him with it.
A fragment of his heart that would never be healed.
When the pod crashed into the middle of a deserted field, the hedgehog was throttled and thrown forward. His cranium made impact with the glass, leaving a sizable divot in the frame and knocking him out all at once.
He would never know he landed in a field of golden sunflowers.
“Shadow? You good?” asked Sonic, reaching for his shoulders. Those emerald eyes upturned in a concerned fashion, scanning over Shadow’s body, looking for any sign of injury.
They only met his blood soaked gloves.
“Sonic! I-I,” he gasped, a million apologies ripe on his lips, but no matter how he urged his brain to work in tandem with his mouth, the words never fell out. Damn it all. He hated feeling this constricted. This caged.
“Hey, man. If you’re worried about the biting thing, it’s cool,” said Sonic quickly, offering a nervous and weary smile in return. “It was only a scratch! See, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. And I didn’t mean to scare you like that, I was way out of line.”
Why was Sonic the one apologizing? It should be him, down on his knees praying for a restoration of the small inkling of a friendship they shared. It should be him apologizing for nearly taking off Sonic’s fingers!
But his current plight was much more imperative. He needed to warn the blue hedgehog. The last thing he wanted was to drag Sonic down with him. No, this was his fight and his alone. He’s already nearly cost Rouge her life. If he hadn’t been lucky that Tower had listened to his pleas, he would never forgive himself. He can’t let Sonic fall in a similar path.
“No! I-I,” he took another heaving gasp, but his throat clenched painfully again. Why was this so difficult? Get a grip, come on. Force it out.
“Breathe, Shadow,” urged Sonic, reminding him that he was still there.
His chest rattled in drawing each unsightly gasp, but it obeyed the blue hedgehog’s command. His head finally cleared of the stuffy cloud that inhibited it, eyes staring at the magnificent cobalt blue that exuded from Sonic’s quills. At last, when his lips parted, cohesive words spilled out.
“Y-You need to leave,” Shadow said with a rasp. “They’re gonna be after me. I don’t know how soon, but you can’t be here when they come for me.”
“Who, Shadow?”
“G.U.N! I can’t explain now but you’ll only be safe if you stay away from me for the time being,” he stammered, trying to stand on shaky legs. His knees wobbled dangerously, but he was prepared to keep running for as long as he needed to in order to distance himself from Rouge and Sonic and the others. When he’s inevitably caught, because let’s face it, he’s at a severe disadvantage, he’ll be damned if he lets them all fall with him.
This may very well be the last time he sees anyone he knows. Anyone he even remotely cares for. Which, in all honesty, is a strange statement to attach to Sonic. How had this hedgehog wormed his way closer, despite the fifty foot walls surrounding his heart? It took Rouge months for him to be cordial to her, and yet Sonic, in typical Sonic fashion, disregarded expectation and threw all of that out the window.
But still, he needed to leave. To hide, to run.
Shadow forced himself to tear his eyes away from those gleaming emeralds, forcing himself to take the first step away. To leave everything and everyone behind.
But he’s stopped.
Holding tight against his wrist is Sonic’s hand. It should feel captive, restraining. A prelude to pain, to torment. To abuse, to torture, to assault. But it doesn’t.
Shadow should be cowering, expecting the same beratement as others had done before, but it's simply not there.
Sonic holds him like he’s worth something. Like he’s worth saving. And Shadow doesn’t know why, but it stings.
“Shadow, I’m not leaving you,” Sonic asserts firmly. For someone who always adorned a smile, the sudden change in demeanor was harrowing. The slightest clench around his wrists, the determined gaze, all proving Sonic to be just as hero as the public claimed.
And in an instant, Shadow’s breath was stolen away.
“Whatever it is you’ve been dealing with, you don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore. I won’t allow it.”
What was this…feeling? What was this exhilaration? Shadow felt as if he were suddenly lifted to the clouds and plunging into the depths of the ocean, all at once. A million galaxies could have flown by above and he wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. Captivated by the cobalt figure in front of him.
His heart skipped a beat. It has never done that before.
“Sonic!”
The blue hedgehog’s attention tore away from his dark counterpart, eyes lighting up in recognition. Shadow nearly pinched himself for mourning the loss of those emeralds on him. What was that? What’s with him? It must be exhaustion, it has been a long day.
Sonic turned back to him, smirking in his ear, “In fact, I may have brought some reinforcements.”
Shadow repressed a shiver, but turned around to look for clarification. He gasped as familiar heels bounced into view, illuminated even in the dark empty square.
“Shadow, hon!” shrieked Rouge as soon as she was within reach, plunging him into an embrace and squeezing like her life depending on it. Like she was never going to release him again. Whichever the case may be, Shadow was thankful for her presence.
“R-Rouge?” he asked. “How? They let you go?”
Tears pooled in her teal eyes, and she pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his face. Any other day, a smudge of lipstick would have left its mark, but after the turmoil of the last few hours, it had clearly been rubbed off, leaving Rouge with only her natural beauty. A bruise blossomed beneath her usually pristine fur, clearly from where she had been smacked by a soldier three times her size. The sight made him cringe.
“Those pricks just left me in the middle of that field!” she huffed, holding him within arms reach. “After they took you away, I rounded up everyone I knew who would be willing to fight for you.”
“Fight?”
“Yes, fight. Because G.U.N clearly has some things to answer to. Some people too, and I’m one of them. Now, I’m certain they are not happy you’re here, hon. You escaped?”
“I ran for it when I had the chance. K-Killed a man,” he admitted rashly, burying his nose into the crook of her neck and breathing in the faint aroma of her perfume.
“Self defense?” she murmured quietly.
Shadow nodded, swallowing down the pit of dread that threatened to rise up.
“We’ll deal with it,” she sighed, another squeeze around his figure following. He truly didn’t deserve her.
Or Sonic. Or anybody.
But they all decided he was worthy of their presence. So perhaps…he was worth something.
Shadow flinched as footsteps thundered down the street. In the damp air of night, the sound reverberated through the many streets, sounding like a brigade. Like a stampede. Was it G.U.N? Had they found him already?
“Looks like the others are here!” cheered Sonic from behind them and Shadow let out a sigh of relief.
Rounding the corner were three familiar figures.
Amy Rose, with her trademark Piko Piko hammer, a determined smile on her flushed face, and Knuckles, carrying a certain two-tailed fox, racing to follow her. They bolted through the empty streets, reflecting dimly off the wet asphalt in muted blurs of color.
“We came as soon as we got the message!” cried Amy, panting as she arrived. Knuckles huffed with exertion from behind, setting down Tails as he caught his breath, waving in mute greeting.
“Shadow? Are you alright? I’m sorry about earlier,” called Tails, approaching the three of them cautiously.
Right, his little meltdown. Oh, dear, the kit had been there, too. That certainly was a sight to behold, especially for one so young.
“Ah, it’s alright,” he whispered in response, shamefully looking at his shoes.
“Don’t overwhelm him, guys,” chided Sonic. His arms were crossed in his usual stance, observing the group almost protectively.
At that moment, sirens erupted in the distance. Blaring lights of government vehicles flashed through the streets beyond, casting buildings in thralls of luminescence. Approaching ever closer, a threat looming just beyond the walls of the small square. The fountain behind them did little to stifle the noise.
Shadow swallowed thickly, moving to stand, but Rouge kept him down. He glanced at her, fearfully confused, but at her fierce look back, he relented. What she was up to was beyond him, but at that moment, teetering on the brink of exhaustion, he had little protest in trusting her judgement.
And so he kneeled on the damp floor, while the others surrounded him.
Several of the same armored trucks he’d come to be familiar with barreled into view, tires screeching as they came to a halt. Soldiers immediately hopped out of the vehicles, brandishing their weapons in much the same way as only hours before.
Rouge stiffened, but the others held their ground. His own hands shook awaiting the government’s response, tensing as an unfamiliar voice echoed through the loudspeakers.
“This is the Guardian Unit of Nations! We hereby order you to surrender Agent Shadow or face dire consequences.”
“Like hell we are,” called the blue hedgehog, a fierce smirk on his face.
The Commander chose that moment to step out, looking particularly pissed. When Tower’s eyes met Shadow’s, he could almost feel the rage that passed between them.
“Sonic.”
“Tower.”
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” the man said with a grimace.
“It’s like two in the morning! Go to sleep, gramps,” snarked the hedgehog back with his trademark grin.
That sprung a few chuckles from their group. The echidna stood low in crouched position, ready to strike. The gleaming handle of Amy’s hammer reflected off of every eye in the square.
“Cease your incessant chatter,” Tower spat. “It’s imperative that Shadow remain in our custody.”
“Well, Shadow doesn’t have to listen to you,” roared Rouge.
“You’ll find that he does. Legally, he’s under our jurisdiction. We’re responsible for him if he goes haywire, we’re the only thing keeping him in check.”
“Well, that’s not fair,” protested Amy.
“Not fair? He just killed a man in cold blood!”
Elevators. Hands. Lingering touches. It had been anything but cold blood. It had been desperation. There had to have been security footage in that elevator.
“That’s a lie,” he seethed, fists clenching.
“Oh, so now you decide to speak?” mocked Tower. Done hiding behind your pathetic little friends?”
“Don’t speak to any of us like that, or you’ll regret it!”
“Yeah!”
“You do understand that you are now considered fugitives of the law, correct?” the man continued. “Aiding and abetting a known hostile to desecrate an contractual agreement. Certain obligations are owed to us, Shadow. Including your obedience.”
The words made him shake.
He’s putting them all at risk. They could lose their livelihoods, and even their lives, and yet they still choose to stand with him. They still guard him, they fight for him. And he nearly sobs at the fact, overwhelmed with emotion.
No one has fought for him in such a long time. Especially to this degree.
“Psst!” he heard to his left, interrupting the blaze of thoughts rushing through his brain. Rouge stood protectively in front of him, hiding Shadow from view of the many soldiers that lurke. But that wasn’t what caught his attention.
Hidden in the folds of her wings was a silver chaos emerald. Where had she gotten that? It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that it was there.
Their way out. The path was clear. He scanned his surroundings, ignoring the many guns pointed in his direction.
Sonic and Tails, immediately to his left. Amy and Knuckles to Rouge’s right. All forming a protective circle around him.
“On three,” he whispered sharply, counting slowly in his head. Tower was ranting still about something, likely continuing to list the consequences of their actions, but Shadow tuned him out with ease.
One. Two. Three!
“Now!”
He seized for the emerald and not a second later did the bat lunge to the right. Shadow followed suit, grabbing both Sonic and Tails by the wrist and holding them with one hand. Looking back only enough to see that Rouge had her respective charges, he reached out his hands, pushing the hand with the emerald to meet her soft and plush gloves.
“Stop them!” Tower cried, and the brigade of soldiers readied their guns, preparing to incapacitate.
But it was too late.
He drew on every fiber of energy in his fatigued being, bracing himself to warp before muttering those fated words.
“Chaos Control!”
And the square and Tower and G.U.N disappeared from view.
The group reappeared violently in the middle of the only place Shadow could think of in such short notice.
Tail’s lab.
They landed in a rather disgraceful manner, in a sort of dog pile of limbs and grunts. The emerald slipped from his grasp, bouncing and rolling across the tiled floor as they all recovered their breaths, reeling from the sudden apparition.
His chest burned. So did his wrists, crackling with residual energy.
“Ugh, I might throw up. Those chili dogs may have been a bad idea,” Sonic groaned, a hand held tightly around his stomach. Knuckles wasn’t faring much better, breathing thinly through his nose. Amy wobbled on her feet and helped Tails stand with her.
“Shadow, talk to me. Are you alright?” Rouge voiced, kneeling in front of his heavily panting form. She was used to the feeling of being warped, having done so on missions before.
“Give me a minute. Warping two is fairly easy, six was a lot,” he heaved, still on his hands and knees and staring straight at his own reflection in the hard tiles, lids closing as the rush in his head subsided and his energy stabilized.
“Breathe, hon. We’re safe now.”
Shadow’s eyes snapped open at once.
Because no. They weren’t safe. They would never be safe in Shadow’s presence, especially now that they’ve gone and marked themselves as fugitives of the law. Tower was a vindictive man. He was going to make every last one of them pay for their actions against him, Shadow just knew it.
But there was a way to prolong the inevitable for even just an hour longer.
He forced himself up, ignoring the stinging pain in his joints, and his nearly breathless pants, bolting to the kit’s desk. Rummaging through the draws, desperately looking for a particular item. Cursing as his hands shook, dropping tools and small screws in the process.
“Shadow?” he heard Tails ask anxiously from behind. The entire group was watching his manic searching with kindred faces of puzzlement.
“Do you have a metal detector?” he practically screeched in the kit’s face. The fox flinched, stepping back.
“Woah, Shads. Calm down,” Sonic warned, hand coming up to defend Tails from the unholy snarl that erupted from his throat.
He felt like a monster. He probably looked like one, too. But this was too important to toss aside.
“I can’t! I need to know!” he yelled, tears of his frustration threatening to burst from beneath his lids, continuing to pace the many cabinets of the lab, tearing them open one by one in little fruition.
“It’s alright, Sonic. I have one! Let me set it up,” said Tails, padding over to a drawer on the complete opposite side of the room.
Tails pulled out an orange device, oddly reminiscent of his own coloring, stretching out a long antenna with a weird dish-shaped object on the end. It beeped as it was turned on, and the kit spent a few moments fiddling with the many dials.
“We don’t have much time,” he warned, tapping his foot rapidly, nervously glancing back at the window, and keeping his ears peeled for any indication of a siren.
“There!” the kit said, attempting to hand it to him, but Shadow shook his head.
He opened his arms and said firmly. “Scan me.”
The kit looked skeptical for a moment but obliged, pointing the reader across Shadow’s body. Nothing over his chest. Over his arms. His back. His head, thank Chaos.
His hands.
His knees.
His-
“What am I looking for? I’m not seeing much-”
A beep.
A fucking beep.
“Oh, hold on a second. There’s a high concentration of both copper and aluminum in your thigh, not naturally occurring.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Which thigh?”
The fox pointed to his left and Shadow swallowed, glancing downwards.
“Do you know what that is?” asked Knuckles.
Now he did. Thanks to Tower. Fucker was good for something, he supposes. He just had to gloat, didn’t he? Rub in the fact that he had power over Shadow. All for what? Some half formed satisfaction stemming from tormenting him?
It only took a second to make a decision.
He ripped off his glove, brandishing his lethal claws before diving straight into the meat of his thigh, tearing through skin and muscle with relative ease. He bit his lip to stifle his groans, damn near drawing blood there, too, ruffling through his own body to find the infernal device that tied him down.
There were immediate protests. From Amy, who blushed at the sight of his bare hands and covered her face. From Sonic, who rushed to his side to try and halt his progress, grasping onto his arm and yelling at him to stop. From Knuckles, who screamed at the gruesome sight, all while Rouge and Tails watched on in horror.
“Shadow, stop!” Sonic attempted, pulling down on his arm again roughly.
But he’s made it this far. Might as well commit.
“No! I-I need it to come out!” he screamed back, an unholy desperation underlying the rasp in his throat. “There’s no — time!”
His claws met something hard, clearly not bone. Small, cylindrical, and foreign to his body.
He ripped it out with a pained cry, tearing through muscles and tendons and flayed skin in the process — but it was out, and that’s what was most important. His pain was worth it. His suffering had proved useful.
“What is that?” dared Knuckles, breaking the nervous silence that had arisen ever since he pulled the device out.
“A tracker. I don’t know how long I’ve had this in.”
“Want me to break it?” said Amy excitedly, brandishing her hammer, but Shadow cut her enthusiasm down immediately.
“No, if it stops working, they’ll know I removed it. We need to use it to lead them away,” he murmured, eyes blinking slowly as the loss of blood rushed to his head, hitting him all at once. He swayed on his feet, an unsteady canter that teetered his balance and caused several arms to shoot out around him.
He was pushed down onto a small swivel chair by strong arms before he could even blink. Looking up as he caught his breath, he saw it was none other than Sonic.
“Sit down,” the other urged, a rather forceful tone, but one that he obeyed.
Shadow couldn’t help the small shudder as Sonic began wrapping gauze around the bloodied hole he’d torn in his own thigh. Where had he even gotten that? Each time it rolled around, adding newfound pressure, he jolted. His healing factor would negate the need for sutures, but blood loss affected him much more significantly than other Mobians, much to his dismay.
“You didn’t have to do that, dude,” Sonic muttered as he rolled the final section of gauze over the wound.
“What choice did I have?” he whispered, lips shaking. “They’re likely on their way now.”
“I just didn’t like seeing you hurt yourself. Tails probably could have gotten it out,” the blue hedgehog replied, tightening the bandages into place.
“I wouldn’t have let him near me, the kid is by no means qualified medical personnel. And even if he were, it still wouldn’t happen. I’m done being an experiment,” he seethed.
Sonic sighed in understanding before his usual demeanor lit the afterburners, burying his emotions in that typical snarky way.
“Doing alright, Tails? Amy?” he called out.
The two of them were currently packing miscellaneous supplies, tossing objects that Shadow’s blurring vision couldn’t discern into what looked like heavy duty backpacks.
“Nearly there! Just getting a couple more things we might need going after G.U.N.”
In a feat of total coincidence, Tails happened to have created a drone that mimicked the appearance of a flicky, perfect for hiding the tracker and luring Tower away from them.
“I’ve set it to fly to the beach over a span of a few hours. That should lose them,” the fox asserted, handing it to Rouge to fly it out the back door quickly.
“Knucks, how we doing?” called Sonic again, helping Shadow stand on wavering feet.
“Nothing yet!” they heard him roar from the other side. The Guardian of the Master Emerald was currently demoted to being just The Guardian of the Kitchen Window, keeping an eye out for any G.U.N activity and preparing to sound the alarm at the drop of a hat.
“Where could we go?” asked Shadow. “A place to lay low for a while, stay out of sight. Who would be willing to help us?”
The Chaotix were out of the question, they were currently on a high stakes investigation in an adjacent city. And besides, that’d be the first place that the government would look. They could always hitch a ride on Angel Island, but Knuckles would likely not want any attention on the Master Emerald.
“I know just the place!” cried Amy from the background, interrupting his thoughts. The pink hedgehog stormed over to him and after whispering the destination in his ear, he nodded firmly. That would work. That should work. It was only temporary, it shouldn’t arouse too much suspicion.
It was time to leave.
In a chain of hands, they all locked together. Knuckles to Amy to Rouge to Tails to Sonic, all linked to Shadow. And for what seemed like the millionth time that day, he grasped the emerald and muttered the phrase, “Chaos Control!”
And they suddenly reaped in front of a quaint house.
The last thing he heard as his body finally succumbed to exhaustion was sharp yells. Shrieks of fear, of caution, of warning. Pounding, perhaps on a door. Voices.
“Catch him, So-!”
Everything went dark.
When the escape pod opened and Shadow awakened, it was to the sound of guns being drawn. He blinked away the lasting draw of nothingness, the pounding in his head blurring his vision.
But he could see the emblem painted on the side of the armoured vehicles clearly. It’s been burned into his very brain, he would never mistake it.
And he nearly burst into sobs right then and there. It had all been for nothing. He was never going to escape this goddamn organization.
Maria’s death meant nothing to these people. And it never will.
He slowly put his hands up in surrender.
Notes:
soooo any guesses as to where we are now? it isn’t currently tagged i’ll give you a hint :3
thank you for your patience i hoped i delivered, and as always, i live for comments!
Chapter 9: through all of this sorrow, we'll be riding high
Summary:
Cookies and conversations.
Confessions, too.
Notes:
so sorry for the wait on this one!!! i got sidetracked i know i know, but in my defense i did have the draft of this one finished months ago.
thank you cape for actually pushing me to get this one out there, chapter title is for u
chapter title from
mary on a cross - ghost
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The scent of chocolate wafted through his nose, so aromatic and distinct. A pleasant fragrance to awake to, warm and effortlessly inviting. It was as if he’d been transported straight into one of the many bakeries he’d longed to peruse. Staring through the open windows at the gallery of sweets with intrigue.
He’d always wanted to try chocolate cake.
His nose scrunched as sleep finally relinquished its hold. Voices were muddied, muted blurs in the otherwise silent air. When he opened his eyes, a quaint, ivory ceiling fan greeted him. Gently swaying from side to side as it spun, gracing him with a delightful breeze.
His mind struggled to catch up with the world around him, leaving him in an entranced daze.
There was someone seated above his head, which was engulfed in various pillows that smelled faintly of florals. Even without the swirling hues of his dancing vision, he could make out a familiar silhouette, one leg crossed over the over and engaged in conversation with someone he could not see. Her face held a tense purse of her lips, which he knew to mean she was stressed.
“Rouge?” Shadow slurred, blinking slowly to rid himself of the weight that attempted to hold him down. In actuality, it was merely a thin blanket that someone, likely Rouge herself, had placed on top of him. Yet his body groaned and struggled to remove the confining material.
The bat startled, one large ear swiveling towards him the minute he opened his mouth. Her eyes softened as she took in his crumpled form, settling one hand on the cusp of his forehead. Her other palm cradled his face and Shadow had to fight the tears that threatened to swell beneath his lids.
She used to hold him like that.
“Oh, you’re awake, hon,” Rouge cooed. The bruise had darkened considerably, a mottled blue and yellow beneath her usual cloud tinted fur. He frowned at the sight. “How are you feeling?”
“Hmm,” he groaned, once more attempting to shift from his place on the couch. Every muscle in his body screamed at him and Shadow couldn’t help the wince each movement spurred. He hadn’t expended such energy like that in who knows how long. “Like shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” she sighed, pressing a soft kiss to the crest of his quills. The quietest trill escaped his throat, so faint even he could not hear it. Shadow felt the rumble, yes, but only Rouge’s sensitive hearing would have picked it up. “This is even worse than after missions. Usually you’re on your feet by now.”
“What happened?” he murmured after a small moment. His teammate’s face was slowly becoming more and more in focus, sharpening around the edges as his body finally cooperated with him.
“In general, or right after you passed out?”
Shadow blinked, finally finding the strength to pull himself upwards. The blanket toppled off his chest with ease.
“What?”
He tried to recall the events leading up to wherever he was now, but it was fuzzy. The argument with Rouge was still fresh on his mind, though there was a big gap following it. Something with Sonic…oh, right. The bite. Then, G.U.N happened, prompting his great escape.
Tower. The tracker. Sonic again.
But the rest eluded him.
“Yep, dude. You’ve been out for how long now? Fifteen hours? Sixteen?” came Sonic’s voice, so distinct in its canter. He was lounging on a matching chair, several abandoned magazines adorning his lap.
“Something like that,” muttered Tails, kneeling on the floor below Sonic. His voice was muffled by what was left of a cookie. “Using that much energy in a single day was bound to get him eventually.”
“Oh, would you all let him wake up in peace?” That would be Amy, who sauntered in with some sort of baking tray, steam rising and catching his eye in an instant. An ill fitting apron hugged her waist, but still her kind smile found him instantly.
Oh. She had made the cookies, it seems.
“I’m an anxious baker,” she admitted, pushing the tray towards him. “Want one?”
He was famished, if truly being honest. But something akin to fear twisted in his gut. He couldn’t possibly stomach something at the current moment.
While he didn’t reach for one, another hand did.
“I’ll grab another one,” announced Sonic, halfway around another bite. “These might be the best cookies I’ve ever had, which is saying something. Knucks, you want one?”
The echidna did not vocalize a response, but it was then that Shadow realized his presence. Leaned against the wall in the corner, arms crossed tight over his chest.
They were here. All of them.
For him?
“I…”
He attempted to speak, but he was overcome with complete and utter bafflement.
They didn’t leave him? Why not? Where was the strategy in staying by his side? The government was after him now, surely none of them wanted to risk their livelihoods just for his sake. It would be so easy to turn a blind eye and leave him to the wolves.
But Sonic merely shrugged his shoulders, offering a supportive smirk as he finished the treat in his hands.
“It’s alright, from what I understand it’s been a hell of a long day for you. Chaos knows I would have needed a power nap.”
“How is he?” drifted a new voice from a distant room.
Shadow’s eyes met the newcomer’s gaze and immediately his ears pinned back flat against his skull.
A tall rabbit with long, draping ears walked through the entryway. Her dress was flowy, reaching to just above her delicate heels. She bore a soft, heavenly glow that weaved in and out of her very aura. Even with the distance between them, Shadow could pick up on the floral scent of her perfume and it was marvelously grounding.
Shadow bowed his head, wincing as her footsteps approached. “Ms. Vanilla! I apologize for the–”
She silenced him with a wave of her hand, kneeling to his level. Caramel eyes stared deep into his own, soothing without ever saying anything.
“There’s no need for that, Shadow,” she said, her voice wrapping around him like a blanket, swaddling him with her sweetened words. “I’ve been made aware of the current situation, and am more than welcome to offer you sanctuary in my home. Cream wished to speak with you, but you hadn’t yet awoke before she left for school this morning.”
“Oh, Cream..”
For reasons beyond him, the young rabbit has been enamored with him from the moment they had met. Always wishing him well, always desiring his presence. He had spent many of his free days simply observing the young girl in her mother’s stead.
“She misses you,” Vanilla smiled sadly.
It had been many, many months since Shadow had let himself be near the young one’s smile. Let himself feel the unadulterated warmth associated with one so innocent and forgiving.
He said nothing in response.
“Now, from what I understand, there’s quite a few details missing from the whole fiasco. Details only you are privy to, am I correct?” Vanilla stood up, giving him the space he needed to talk. The room’s occupants turned to stare at him, one by one.
The spotlight was on him.
“I…”
But again, he choked. On his words, on his very breath. Nothing could come out, nothing would escape. A deep, unsettling feeling was rising in his gut. Was this fear?
“Yeah, Shads. You owe us big time. No skirting around the facts, tell us what’s going on,” Sonic chimed in, his usual laid back demeanor shifting. His sudden mood change was always jarring to witness. Shadow could not lie and say he didn’t miss the cheerful banter of before.
His heart began to race, his palms began to profusely sweat. Not even the ceiling fan above could cool the sudden heat that sparked around him. Engulfed in the flames of their stares, begging for an explanation.
But Shadow could not give it up so easily.
Did they not truly understand the magnitude of his entrapment? If he revealed too much, opened his mouth for just a second longer than he should have – will it be the same? G.U.N has already proved themselves willing and able to repeat their prior mistakes.
His eyes flashed to the bruise on the bat’s cheek.
No, it was too much. He tried backing down, raising his voice to shout, “You don’t understand, they’re-”
“Then help us understand, Shadow!” Rouge interrupted him. The sudden sharpness of her shriek made him flinch. “You were in tears. You broke down in my arms last night, and it’s because of G.U.N, I just know it!”
Turn them down. Turn them away. Hide. Run.
“That was a mistake!”
“A mistake?” she roared back. “Hunting you down like you're some kind of threat? Guns drawn, riot gear equipped, just to capture you? Shadow, what the hell is going on?”
Shit. They’re not stopping. They’re not understanding.
“I-I don’t,” he gasped, halting his words again. Tears of frustration were building behind his lids, he could just feel them. But he would not let them fall, he wouldn’t .
“Everyone, let him breathe,” Amy interjected, holding her hands up. He couldn’t even recall watching her set the baking tray down somewhere. “We’re obviously dealing with a rather tense situation, and getting upset at Shadow is not helping anyone, least of all him.”
She turned to face him, eyes blazing with both determination and resolve. A vague memory of standing with her, observing the planet below from beyond the atmosphere flashed through him. His memory of before was spotty at best, but occasional glimpses of the event would shine through his hardened mind like the sun’s rays escaping the cloudline on an overcast day.
“Shadow, we would appreciate you telling us what is harming you,” Amy smiled, gesturing to him with open arms.
For a moment, he considered it. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a horrible idea. Maybe they could provide him with the assistance he needed to escape the mechanisms keeping him in place.
But all it took was one last flash of golden hair to completely eradicate the thought from his mind. The last one who’d tried to help him escape the thralls of G.U.N paid most dearly for her choice. And Shadow, too naive to stop her, had been forever ripped away from her.
What if this time it was Sonic? Rouge? Anyone in the room as a matter of fact?
The thought of his hands being stained with blood, their blood, was enough for him to physically recoil. He shook his head of the infernal train of thought. “I can’t tell-”
“Come on,” groaned Knuckles from the corner, his large namesakes clenching in frustration.
“No, that’s what we aren’t going to do!” Amy glared at him over her shoulder. “Shadow, why do you feel as though you can’t tell us?”
“G.U.N-”
“That’s not what I asked. Is G.U.N threatening you?”
The answer was obvious.
“…yes,” he whispered softly. The soft whirring of the fan above was likely the loudest thing in the entire room. Not his shaky breaths could counteract the eerie silence that followed.
Amy leaned back, arms crossed tightly. Even she lowered her own voice to match the tense atmosphere. “So, G.U.N is threatening you to keep your silence, do you feel comfortable sharing what they’re threatening you with?”
“They…”
There was no interruption this time. Everyone in the room was holding their breath, awaiting his words. Was it worth it to reveal?
“They’re threatening to repeat what happened…”
Nothing. Raptured attention. Hanging on the edge of his words like he mattered, like they cared.
“…on the Ark,” he finished, releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding. It was like a weight was lifted off of his chest, his lungs finally able to perform their normal functions.
No one spoke. There were a few blinks of confusion.
“So, what happened on the Ark?” came the apt follow up.
“Knuckles, let him talk,” chided Rouge.
“No, we need to know what we’re up against! If they’re threatening him with this shit, then who’s to say they won’t do that to us?”
“They won’t,” Shadow whispered so quietly, he hadn’t even processed the words slipping from his mouth.
But from across the room, Knuckles heard. “Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because you’re an actual person.”
The cuffs had yet to leave his tired hands. Blood still stained his shoulder. There was what felt like a sizable dent in his cranium.
But Shadow couldn’t bring himself to care about his current situation. About anything, really. What was the point in moving forward, if it wasn’t with her by his side?
Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was red. Dripping down her chest, her legs, gathering on the mechanical floor like a fresh puddle. Oozing forever towards him. But he was frozen in place by the confines of the escape pod. And no matter how hard he pounded, mustering every ounce of strength his feeble body could manage to withstand, it would never be enough.
Maria was dead. And he would be forever haunted by her memory.
It would not be wistfully carried on the wind. It would not come to him quietly on a summer afternoon.
It would spark. It would ignite.
It would blaze.
But for now, it would lay dormant. Bubbling below like the cooling magma beneath a hibernating volcano. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
They were leading him somewhere. He’d been locked in this mechanical facility for who knows how long. Staring at the wall, occasionally flicking his gaze over to the cameras in the corner. But when the soldiers ushered him out of his holding cell, only then could Shadow understand he was most certainly in dire danger.
He should have been alert. He should have cared. Everything seemed so dull without the promise of returning to her warm embrace.
He stopped moving momentarily, just to see what the soldiers would do to him. They merely pushed him to stumble forward, repeating the process countless times until they appeared in front of a large door.
The stupid insignia gave way to reveal the one man Shadow wanted nothing more than to strangle the life out of.
“You.”
Commander Tower.
Still trimmed. Still stone faced.
Still alive is the most important identifying factor.
“Project Shadow,” Tower greeted curtly, his lips curled in what appeared to be disgust. Shadow longed to rip his teeth out.
“What do you want?” Shadow growled. He couldn’t help the sheer defeat that toppled through his words.
“Not so difficult now, are we?”
Shadow’s answer was nothing more than a scowl. This man didn’t deserve the honor of a response.
“The federal oversight committee has launched an investigation into some rather questionable rumors. Rumors of illegal experimentation of extraterrestrial lifeforms in order to artificially simulate immortality,” the Commander announced with disdain.
Rumors, his ass. That’s exactly what they were doing. To think the federal government did not understand the scope of such an experiment was baffling. What did they think G.U.N was doing right under their noses? Picking flowers?
“G.U.N simply can’t have those rumors confirmed. As of six days ago, Project Shadow never happened.”
What?
“Most of our internal files have been torched. Every mention of you or the rest of the project have been redacted in the files that remain. Our hands have been wiped clean. Space Colony Ark has therefore been reassigned to simple satellite duties with no further active residents. The research facilities have been officially decommissioned.”
“But the scientists! The researchers, their families! Lives were lost.”
She was lost.
Tower sneered at him. “Collateral damage. On paper, they never existed.”
How could he disregard these people so easily? Throw away tangible life with a mere flick of the wrist? Shadow couldn’t comprehend such apathy
“Which brings us to you,” the man continued. Shadow swallowed the rising fear in his gut, wary of the armed guards surrounding them.
“What do you plan to do with me?” Shadow asked, voice straining with the struggle of keeping himself together. In reality, he was not together. He was completely and utterly shattering to pieces. “How will I be disposed of? I’m not exactly easy to kill.”
“Precisely. Kill you?” Tower chuckled as if he were told the world’s funniest joke. “Thirty million in gracious tax dollars – did you think we were just going to let that go to waste? You’re too valuable to kill, Project Shadow. But for now, we have no use for you.”
There it was again. Use. What was the point in Shadow’s existence if not to service those around him? Be it researching medical breaththroughs, training the next elite soldier, or even just finding carnal relief in his own fucking body.
Why did Shadow ever believe to be taken with even an ounce of respect?
“Why don’t you greet your new home?”
Shadow looked up to glance at what Tower was gesturing to and oh.
It’s…a suspension tank.
Tall, sleek, and begging for him to release himself back into silent, empty waves.
Shadow approached the tank with fascination. Raising one hand to the cool glass, watching his breath fog and retreat over and over again. It was like staring into a portal, catching a glimpse of his first moments conscious and awake.
Simply drifting in the thick liquid. Nothing hurt back then. There was no life. There was no death. Just nothingness. The void of merely floating, existing as the world went by without ever disturbing him.
“Get in.”
Tower was suddenly right behind him. Something hard pressed against the back of his head and he didn’t need to turn around to know what it was. There’s not any other option. When the glass doors retreat, Shadow steps through. The cuffs above his inhibitors are removed, but Shadow does not have the energy to flee. He’ll be returned to nothingness once more, that’s all.
Maybe it won’t be so horrible.
But when the liquid rises, far colder than it should be, than it ever has been as a matter of fact, Shadow knows something is most certainly afoot. It’s not the same. It’s not his original tank, it’s not the escape pod – it’s something else entirely.
The last thing he sees before the emptiness swallows him whole is Tower and the soldiers turning their backs and leaving. The door slams shut. The lights flicker and die and Shadow’s world goes black. This time there aren’t any stars to light his way.
He won’t wake for fifty years.
Shadow was returned to the present with his face impossibly hot and his throat damn near closing up. There’s voices around him, sporadic and loud, but it seems distant. Out of body.
“I-I can’t…” he tries to mutter, but if he’s being honest, it comes out as a warbled mess. Nothing more than a shuddered whisper.
His vision blurred dangerously as vertigo hit him all at once. It’s too much. It’s not enough.
“-dow? Hey, Shads, focus on me and me alone, got it?”
As though appearing through a mirage, he recognizes the flash of blue. Sonic is kneeling before him, one hand hovering over his own shaking fingers.
Shadow’s eyes met those blazing emeralds and let those pools consume his overwrought mind. Eyes the same color as the verdant landscape Sonic loved to roam. Just seeing the color alone was enough to steady him. But the rumble of his unease was apparent just by looks alone.
“Do you want to go to a different room?” Sonic asked softly. There was no judgement in his eyes, in his voice. Just…comfort.
Shadow nodded, quickly and silently, squeezing the hand held out to him like a lifeline. Sonic led him on uneasy feet away from the cacophony of the sitting room, down the adjacent hallway and into a room that Shadow did not recognize. From the lack of personal decorations, he assumed this to be one of the guest bedrooms.
When Sonic closed the door behind, the faint ringing in his eyes dissipated. They returned to silence once more.
Suddenly, Shadow could breathe.
The bed was plush and soft when he sat down, a far cry from his own back at Team Dark’s shared apartment. Well, given the fact that two of the three members were currently fugitives, their assets, however meager they may have been, were likely to be seized. Maybe Omega could save that sunflower for him.
“Alright?” asked Sonic from his side.
“Much better. Thank you.”
Figured you needed some space. Man, it’s always G.U.N, isn’t it?” scoffed Sonic, his disdain for the organization shining through as he gingerly sat down next to the other hedgehog. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right? I’ll be right here, silent as a mouse. But I'd like to know what you meant back there.”
Shadow stared into Sonic’s face far longer than he cared to admit. Mulling over the decision. Should he let his instincts win? Toss Sonic’s concern aside in the off chance G.U.N decided to turn on him? Or finally let the bubble he’d been building since his creation burst open?
In the end, he trusted Sonic’s intuition. The blue hedgehog was the one person who never failed to defy expectations. If there was one person who Shadow knew could evade G.U.N – it was him.
But if he was wrong and Sonic paid for it with his life – Shadow would never forgive himself.
“I’m not…considered on the same legality as you, Sonic,” he admitted, though it took him squeezing his claws into his palm to force the words from his lips. “I’m an artificial creation. I was not born. G.U.N has had ample time to take advantage of that fact.”
Sonic looked as though he wanted to say something, but Shadow admired how he stayed true to his word. Letting Shadow speak for himself.
“It was much the same aboard the Ark. Treating me as if I were an animal, not caring whether or not I was in pain. They took and they took. My energy, my blood.”
Deep breath.
“My…body,” he mumbled, fighting the wave of sorrow that rolled over him. The phantom touches that ghosted around his body that he’s fought tirelessly to leave behind echoed through him once more.
“Shads,” Sonic whispered. But Shadow was not done. Someone was finally there to listen to him and understand him. And Shadow was not about to let that go to waste. He was not going to be quiet.
“G.U.N or the scientists – both of them. They don’t consider me a person. And in the eyes of the law, theyre…right,” he shuddered, his voice cracking near the end. It wasn’t fair. It just simply wasn’t.
And now Sonic knew.
“Well, that’s some horse shit. You are a person. A strong one. You’d have to be in order to come back from the hells you’ve faced,” Sonic affirmed beside him.
“Sonic, legally-”
“I don’t care what the law says! The law has no standing to deprive anyone of their rights. And we’re going to fight it, trust me, but personhood starts with you, Shadow,” Sonic enforced, grasping both of his hands firmly. “You’re a person. Say it.”
Shadow blinked away the confusion.
“I’m a person?”
“Say it again,” Sonic smirked. “Like you mean it.”
Rolling his eyes, Shadow obliged to the other’s whims. “I’m a person.”
“I deserve respect,” Sonic prompted, gesturing to him to follow.
“I…deserve respect,” Shadow tried to emulate the natural timber that Sonic had started with but even he could admit it sounded weak.
“Confidently!” shouted Sonic with all the giddiness of a child on Christmas morning.
“I deserve respect!” Shadow yelled back.
“There we go! I deserve good things. I deserve good friends. I deserve love!”
Shadow couldn’t help the small chuckle that tumbled through him. How did this blue idiot manage to say the right thing all the damn time? Wiggling his way into even the darkest of Shadow’s crevices and still finding a way to let him witness the shining sun.
“I deserve good things,” Shadow obediently followed. “I deserve good friends. I deserve…”
His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Sonic. Smiling at him like he raised the world. Someone who, despite his attempts to push him away, had remained.
“I deserve…love.”
Oh. Love.
Is that what’s happening to him?
Notes:
...teehee OWO
and lmao pretty much all of you were right, hi vanillaas always i live for comments :>