Chapter 1: cathedral where you cannot breathe
Chapter Text
Breakfast in the Wachowski household was a vibrant, noisy affair. The morning sun streamed in as Maddie threw open the curtains and Tom called upstairs to summon the kids. The house was bathed in a honey glow as the sound of chirping birds greeted them, carried by a refreshing breeze cooled by January weather.
Knuckles, Sonic, and Tails tumbled out of bed in varying states of wakefulness. Sonic sprang up like a rocket, eager to meet the day. Knuckles stirred leisurely, stretching his limbs before cracking open a window to breathe in the crisp Green Hills air. Tails yawned, blinked groggily, and floated out of his suspended airplane bed with arms hanging lazily like a limp marionette.
In the kitchen, Maddie and Tom were at work assembling a feast to satisfy their hungry trio. The dining table was crowded by fluffy waffles, sizzling maple sausages, scrambled eggs, and a heaping pile of grapes for Knuckles. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and rich butter filled the air.
Sonic was midway through his second waffle by the time Tails slumped into a chair, clearly running of fumes. He must’ve been up late tinkering again. Even the bright morning sun couldn’t keep his eyes from drooping shut. Knuckles planted a waffle in front of their youngest brother, then slathered it in maple syrup. Maybe to be helpful and maybe to see if Tails would fall asleep face-down in the sticky mess.
“Easy, Sonic,” Maddie cautioned gently, pouring orange juice into glasses. “The food’s not going anywhere.”
Swallowing hastily, Sonic flashed her a grin. He wiped the crumbs from his furry muzzle and said, “Can’t slow down today, mom. There’s a crew of bank robbers tearing up Rhode Island. Gonna jog over there and see if Blue Justice can do something about it. Maybe I’ll swing by Jersey to take out a cabal of pickpockets, finish with a patrol down the coast.”
“It’s Sunday, bud. You’ve been patrolling non-stop for two weeks,” Tom said while stirring his coffee. “Even heroes need a break once in a while. We could go fishing. I think I can manage one-handed.”
Tom lifted his elbow to indicate his injured arm. The pain from the dislocation was mostly gone, and what was left could be buried under painkillers. His ribs were worse off. Two broken, one bruised. At night, Sonic sometimes overheard his doctor-ordered breathing exercises. Shallow, pained sounds that betrayed how much it hurt to take in air. Tom was one of the toughest guys Sonic knew. He never thought he’d hear him whimper.
If he’d talked Shadow down sooner, Tom never would’ve been hurt. Sonic’s grip on his fork tightened.
Shadow.
“I’m fine,” Sonic said briskly, tossing the fork aside. Maddie eyed the bent metal, then exchanged a look with her husband.
“You’ve done a lot and we’re really proud of you, honey,” Maddie said softly, her voice colored by maternal concern. “We want to support you. We’re not asking you to stop, just to slow down a little.”
“Mother is correct,” Knuckles added. “Even the mightiest warrior knows they must rest to fight harder another day.”
Sonic merely strapped a communicator to his wrist, avoiding their eyes. “Bad guys don’t take a day off, so neither can I.”
Maddie exchanged another worried glance with her husband. “We’re not trying to hold you back. We just want to know that you’re okay,” Tom insisted.
“I’m 100% okay!” Sonic blurted with more snappish bite to his words than he intended. He forced himself to ease up and continued, “I’m just trying to be a better hero. I need to be.”
Tom began to say, “This all started after Shadow-”
“Bank robbers aren’t gonna arrest themselves,” Sonic cut in. “Gotta go fast!” Before anyone could protest further, he was gone, leaving behind the echo of his footsteps.
He was out the door, down the road, and out of Montana within minutes. The rush of wind in his face battered against the phantasmal visions he was trying to leave behind. Visions of Shadow on the moon, his face illuminated by the sun cresting behind the Earth. His eyes wide as he finally saw Maria in the stars, realizing he’d been too busy looking back and forgot to look up. Phantoms of Sonic’s own hope for a new friend; one who was like him, as fast as him, as competitive as him. Shining gold amidst the black vacuum of space.
If Sonic had been stronger, he could have held on longer against the Eclipse Cannon. He and Shadow could have finished the fight together. Shadow wouldn’t have had to die.
Sonic skidded to a stop within the depths of a forest he didn’t recognize, chest heaving, heart beating hard. “Damn it!” He swore, slamming his fist against the nearest tree. Bark splintered and showered him as the trunk cracked. The tree toppled, ripping its roots out of the ground as it crashed into the underbrush. Birds squawked and scattered, squirrels chattered and fled.
Silence fell.
Sonic stumbled until he braced a hand on another tree and wheezed. The air was squeezed from his lungs not by exertion but by grief filling him up and pushing it out. He swiped a hand over his eyes and it came away wet.
Shadow deserved to live. He deserved a chance to figure out how to live without his past burdening him. Sonic’s incompetence took that chance from him and he died all alone in cold, empty space. So Sonic ran, he fought bad guys, he trained until chaos lit his fists and his spindash shattered steel.
He’d become so strong, so unstoppable, he never lost anyone again.
Sonic had the bank robbers deposited on the front steps of the local precinct when his communicator pinged. He zipped out of town to answer the call somewhere quiet, ending up on a remote stretch of road in southern Rhode Island.
“What’s up, little buddy?” Sonic asked into his wrist.
“Sonic, I intercepted a GUN transmission,” Tails said hastily. “They’re moving to investigate an object that fell from space in Minnesota. They think it might be Shadow’s, I mean, his…”
His corpse. Tails couldn’t bring himself to say the word and Sonic didn’t want to hear it.
“Send me the coordinates.”
Blood pounded in Sonic’s ears. His throat closed up and his breathing grew shallow. He remembered this feeling. Rage, pure and strong. An anger that demanded action lest it boil up and burst. Last time, it’d been directed at Shadow. Now, it roiled fiercely on Shadow’s behalf.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go alone,” Tails said cautiously.
“Tails, please. We don't have time to regroup.” Sonic interrupted, his tone desperate. They absolutely had time, thanks to the instantaneous travel provided by their rings. In truth, he didn't want anyone with him when he saw Shadow again. After a tense pause, coordinates appeared on his wrist. “I’ll bring him home,” Sonic vowed more to himself than Tails. “We’ll give him the sendoff he deserves.”
“Yeah, we can do that,” Tails agreed before ending the call.
Sonic swallowed hard. He didn’t want to say goodbye, there was too much finality in that. An absolute confirmation of how completely Sonic had failed him. But Shadow deserved to be remembered. Honored by the only people still alive who’d known him.
He couldn’t let GUN touch him. They would dissect him, study him. Desecrate him. Take him apart like scrapped machinery and reduce everything he was to numbers and figures in some file, then lock it away like all their filthy secrets. His sacrifice, his strength, his dignity all meant nothing to them.
No. Sonic would not let that happen. He’d bring Shadow home and they’d bury him somewhere he could see the stars.
Blue lightning crackled as Sonic sprinted across seven states without stopping. Minnesota greeted him with chilly air and a miserable drizzle of rain. The low temperature turned every drop into bitingly frigid glass shards. Sonic’s communicator guided him to the impact sight, and he knew he found the right place when he encountered a perimeter of armed soldiers in GUN uniforms. Temporary fencing and several ground vehicles surrounded a mid-sized crater. The rim of upturned earth hid whatever lay in the center.
Sonic observed GUN’s activity from a perch on a tree branch, its foliage hiding his bright fur. “I’m here, Shadow,” he murmured though Shadow couldn’t hear it.
He didn’t want to see what had become of his friend after two weeks floating in space, atmospheric re-entry, and a crash landing. He preferred to remember Shadow flying beside him, golden and divine, two blazing comets tearing across the sky.
But Sonic wouldn’t flinch from this. He had to do what little he still could.
GUN was prepping a retrieval team with full-body protective gear, treating Shadow as a radioactive threat. And for all Sonic knew, he was. Shadow was still an enigma and always would be.
He spotted a weakness in the patrol formation. To GUN’s credit, it wasn’t a weak spot for anyone other than Sonic. He slipped between two guards passing by each other, their backs to him, too fast to be seen by the human eye. He approached the crater, dipping behind the raised perimeter of dirt so he couldn’t be seen. And there he was.
Half-buried by scorched soil, still and silent, was Shadow.
His body lay curled on its right side, one arm bent unnaturally beneath him. That whole side was bloody, the skin scraped off by hitting the ground at terminal velocity. His fur, once glossy and groomed, was dulled by dirt and made patchy by radiation burns searing it away. A pair of golden rings were sticking out of the soil alongside him, maybe dislodged from his wrists in the crash.
“Hey again,” Sonic whispered, his voice wavering. “Welcome back.”
Tears fell freely from his eyes. Sonic hated seeing Shadow like this. He’d been smirking and cocky just a few weeks ago, kicking robot butt like he was swatting flies, glowing and beautiful, outshining all the stars. Now, he was dull and lifeless and dead and it was all Sonic’s fault.
He dropped to his knees and gathered Shadow in his arms. There was no good place to put his hands that didn't irritate his wounds, then Sonic remembered it didn't matter how careful he was because Shadow was dead. The damp earth burying him fell away, revealing black fur clotted with soil and more seeping wounds. Sonic’s legs trembled. He just needed a moment. His legs were shaking too much to run, he just needed a moment. Holding Shadow close to his chest, he rocked him like he was soothing him to sleep.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Shadow would never hear the apology, never know how much he was missed.
Shadow’s chest moved. Barely, just a twitch.
Sonic gasped and leaned back, eyes on Shadow’s still form. He could have imagined it, a cruel trick of the rain playing on his impossible hopes. Then Shadow moved again.
He bundled Shadow closer to press an ear to his chest. He listened intensely, blocking out the bustle of GUN’s soldiers and vehicles around them. And he heard a weak thump and a slight rush of air. Shadow’s chest twitched again and this time, he groaned.
“Shadow!” Sonic cheered, careful to keep his voice down, even though he wanted to shout to the skies. “You’re alive!”
“Sonic…?” Shadow’s voice was faint, his expression dazed. His aching wheeze for air was louder than his words. “Hurts.”
“I know, it’s gonna be okay,” Sonic promised. “I’ve got you.”
Sonic stood firmly on two strong legs, his shakes gone and his overwhelming joy imbuing him with energy. Shadow was alive. Shadow was alive! And he was hurt and needed help, urgently. Sonic briefly transferred Shadow to one arm so he could grab the gold rings. He didn’t know if they were important or nostalgic, but either way, Shadow would want them back.
He exploited the same weakness in the formation for their escape. With any luck, GUN wouldn’t realize Shadow had been here at all.
Sonic ran for home, bringing a miraculously alive Shadow with him.
The front door burst open and slammed against the wall hard enough to rattle the Wachowski family photos. Tom and Maddie’s wedding, hikes through the hills of their hometown, and a pair of human parents posing with three alien sons all clattered like nervous teeth. In the living room, Maddie startled, her afternoon tea sloshing out of its cup and soaking into the armchair. The peace of an empty house she’d been enjoying was shattered.
She sprang to her feet and rushed into the foyer, and was met with a sight that took her a few heartbeats to comprehend. Sonic was walking through the doorway, his small frame heaving with exertion. Held in his trembling arms was a dirty bundle of black fur and green blood.
Shadow. The hedgehog that almost killed her husband. Bleeding on her wood flooring, barely conscious, and chest stuttering unevenly with rattling gasps for air.
“Please help him!” Sonic begged, his words tumbling out nearly too fast for Maddie to follow. “I know he tried to suck us into a black hole and punched Tom and tried to laser the planet but we talked about it and he’s actually a good person, I swear, he was just messed up for a little while and he fixed it and saved everybody! I thought he was dead and he’s not and I don’t want him to die again!”
“Sonic!” Maddie said sharply, dropping to her knees. His mouth snapped shut and a tiny, choked whimpering sound escaped him. He looked up at Maddie, eyes brimming with silent pleading.
She pressed an ear to Shadow’s chest, ignoring the blood smearing on her cheek. The wet and ragged rattle of his breathing was obvious and sickening. She didn’t need a stethoscope to know there was something seriously wrong with his lungs. She couldn’t identify the problem here. She pulled away and stood, and when she turned her back to get her car keys-
“Please, mom, please, he won’t hurt anyone, I promise!” Sonic stumbled when Maddie turned sharply back to him, like he was going weak in the knees. “I couldn’t save him before, don’t make me lose him again.”
Maddie thought, perhaps, sometime in the aftermath of Tom’s injury, she’d done or said something to make her son believe she’d turn him away. She didn’t remember much between GUN HQ and the hospital, just a lot of raw terror. Maybe she’d snapped or let the fear overtake her. Now, her heart broke cleanly in two, knowing she’d messed up. She’d never ignore her son’s pleading. Never.
Shadow was complicated, but looking at him now, Maddie saw a body starved for oxygen and skin torn to shreds. She saw a boy about the same age as her own son and looked so much like him. No matter what he’d done, no child should be left in agony.
“Honey, I’m getting my car keys,” she explained calmly, drawing on her experience in handling panicking pet parents. She continued speaking as she went to the kitchen to grab said keys out of a bowl on the counter. “He needs to go to the vet clinic. There’s something wrong with his lungs, he needs an ultrasound.”
“Oh,” Sonic sighed, relieved. “Okay, I’ll get him in the car.”
He vanished down the hall. The garage door opened with a mechanical rumble, then a car door slammed shut. Maddie followed after, keys in hand. When she climbed into the driver’s seat, Sonic had Shadow’s head in his lap with the rest of his body laid out on the backseat. He was petting Shadow’s quills, trying to soothe him as he made small, distressed sounds.
Maddie focused on driving, but tuned her ears to Sonic’s gentle murmuring. Once, very weakly, Shadow managed to ask, “Where… am I…?”
“You’re in my mom’s car. She’s driving us to a clinic where she’s gonna help you,” Sonic explained softly.
“My… rings? Need-” Shadow was cut off by harsh coughing.
“Your… oh!” Maddie heard more than saw Sonic rustling through his quills. A small hum, then the clank of metal sounded as a pair of rings were reattached to Shadow’s wrists. “I grabbed these for you. Figured you’d want ‘em back.”
If Shadow had anything else to say, it was lost when he coughed up a splatter of blood.
“Mom!”
“I know, honey, I see. We’re almost there,” she assured him.
Shadow was disoriented, not realizing he was in a car and moving. He was possibly vision impaired from trauma or hypoxia. Maddie added a vision test to the list of things she needed to check.
They tore into the parking lot, the early morning hour leaving most of it empty. Sonic had Shadow in his arms and was out of the car before Maddie cut the engine. She sprinted inside the clinic and found him talking with Nancy, a familiar coworker who was attending the front desk.
“Just wait for your mom, Sonic- oh, hi Mads! Looks like you’ve got a new little guy that needs you.”
Maddie glanced at Shadow. Sonic was holding him with one arm and dabbing at the blood on his muzzle with a tissue. “Yeah. Yeah, he does. Is the ultrasound free?”
“No one’s booked it for the next few hours.”
That was all the cue Sonic needed to speed off again. All three of her sons had ultrasounds so Maddie could get a baseline understanding of their alien structure, thus he knew where to go. Maddie ran after him, again, following an apologetic look at Nancy.
“I’ll get you checked in!” she called behind them.
Maddie entered the exam room as Sonic was lifting Shadow onto the examination table. He’d removed the pads on either side of bed meant to keep animal patients from squirming. There was no need for them – Shadow wasn’t struggling. His body laid in a boneless sprawl, save for the pitiful rise and fall of his chest. His eyes wandering the room aimlessly, like he was looking for something he couldn't find. In the harsh clinic lighting, his grimy and ragged skin was brought into sharp contrast against the cheery motivational posters and pictures of kittens. Her heart ached like it did for any little, fuzzy thing that came to her hurt.
When Sonic tried to step aside to give Maddie room to work, Shadow whimpered a quiet, “No…”
Sonic reattached instantly. He hopped onto the table next to Shadow’s legs and held the hand on his unbroken arm. Shadow quieted as Sonic rubbed circles in his fur, ruffling the red stripe that extended to the tip of Shadow’s ring and pinkie fingers. His hands remained largely unscathed, though his gloves were missing.
Maddie knew there was a thing with Mobians and hands. They were kept covered, always, even in their sleep. And the boys were embarrassed to talk about it, which suggested something private and intimate. So Maddie was left wondering exactly what happened between her son and Shadow up in space.
“Alright, alright, clingy much?” Sonic teased lightly. He sounded so fond, it was impossible to mistake his words for judgment. Shadow’s breathing changed just enough to indicate some kind of reaction. Whether it was annoyance or amusement, Maddie couldn’t tell. Still, it indicated Shadow was listening, so he wasn’t completely lost in brain fog.
Pain management had to come first. Shadow was in no state to tell her where he was hurting, and there was likely no part of him that wasn’t. There was no diagnostic value in letting him suffer. That was fine, none of Maddie’s patients could explain their symptoms.
Without attempting to separate their locked hands, she maneuvered around Sonic to access Shadow’s arm. She inserted an IV catheter into the crook of his elbow, easier than she could on a dog or cat. Shadow, at least, understood the slight sting of the needle was meant to help him. Fluids and painkillers began their slow drip into his system. Maddie knew they took hold when Shadow’s tension eased.
“Let me get to his hand,” Maddie requested of her son. He moved his hold to Shadow’s wrist so she could clip on an oximeter.
As she adjusted the device, she noticed something: the crimson streak running along Shadow’s arm didn’t end at his fingertips. It curled across his palm in a swirling, spiked pattern. She’d seen plenty of odd fur coloration – cats with little hearts on their bellies or rabbits with masks around their eyes. This was different. This looked precise, deliberate even. Like a brand or a crest.
He also boasted a set of wickedly sharp claws, her lizard brain informed her. Maddie ignored it. Shadow could barely breathe, those claws were not a threat.
She was distracted away from the emblem by a soft beep. The oximeter was display a reading.
82%.
Dangerously low, which explained his disorientation and difficulty seeing. His brain was starved for oxygen, his thoughts were choked at the root.
“What’s that mean?” Sonic fussed, picking up on her worry. “You’re frowning.”
“His oxygen levels are bad. Really bad,” Maddie answered. “From the sound of his breathing, he’s trying to get air in, but he can’t. We need to get a look at his lungs.”
Maddie used clippers to shave Shadow’s chest of what fur remained to clear the way for the wand. She inevitably irritated his burns, but the morphine dulled the pain it might have caused. His fur fell away in black and white tufts, revealing skin quite different from Sonic’s. Shadow’s was an ash-gray compliment to his pitch-black fur. As alien as his green blood. She had no idea if that was atypical for his species, she only had a sample size of four to work with. Though now wasn’t the time to think about the phenotyping of extraterrestrial hedgehogs.
“Sorry about that magnificent floof, buddy,” Sonic said with a chuckle, trying to keep the mood light. “I’ve wanted to snuggle my face into your chest since we met.”
“You… want… ed,” Shadow rasped between wheezing breaths, talking slow since every word he spoke took effort to construct. Sonic was shockingly patient, smiling and waiting for Shadow to finish. “After I… threw a… car?”
“Yup, was thinking about it the whole time.” Sonic patted Shadow’s head. His quills had also survived, though they were as clogged with dirt as the rest of him. Maddie knew they were durable enough to shred metal, so that wasn't too surprising. “It’ll grow back, and when it does I’ll get my chance. Because you’re alive, dude. That’s amazing.”
Shadow didn’t respond with words. His capacity for speaking was strained to its limit. Instead, he held Sonic’s hand a little tighter with what Maddie hoped was gratitude. He continued to wheeze as she applied gel and pressed the ultrasound wand to his skin.
She examined the screen, furrowing her brow at what it displayed. Her stomach turned as she comprehended what she was looking at.
“Well?” Sonic prompted, impatience more typical of him and demanding he prod for an answer. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“He… uh, his soft tissue is shredded from acute barotrauma,” she began carefully. “He’s got ruptured alveoli, collapsed bronchioles, and internal hemorrhaging. I’ve only read about this in school, from experiments on sending animals into space. This can only happen if he was exposed to a vacuum.”
“He was in space before he crash landed. For the last two weeks. Right?”
Shadow shook his head. “Don’t… know. How… long.”
“Oh, no…” Sonic’s voice cracked under the weight of what he’d just realized. “You were alive the whole time…”
Sonic and Shadow had fought against each other, then side-by-side, out in space. Sonic returned with no ill effects save the wounds from falling through the atmosphere. Maddie knew that for a fact because she’d thoroughly examined her sons after hearing the story of their battle. Clearly, they had some immunity to the effects of a vacuum, but that immunity had its limits. Shadow had been left behind for sixteen days, and his body was pushed well past that limit.
His blood would have boiled as his muscles atrophied and his organs broke down. His vision would have deteriorated while his brain was denied oxygen, leaving him blind and in pain and confused. And denied the mercy of death.
Any resentment Maddie might have held onto evaporated. Shadow had been punished enough. This child had suffered beyond anything the human body could endure or the human mind could comprehend.
Maddie exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of her neck as if the hurt in her heart was a physical pain she could ease away. Shadow, definitively, should be dead. He needed help, even if he’d survived this long. No body, no matter how alien and durable, could keep functioning in this state.
“He needs serious care. Supplies, medications, stuff we don’t keep in a vet clinic. I doubt a hospital is going to hand over what we need. We might have to check him in somewhere.”
“No!” Sonic snapped. “GUN will find him. He can’t go to a hospital.”
Shadow whined, stirred into frightful squirming by Sonic’s dire warning. Sonic hushed him gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I won’t let them take you. Promise.”
“We don’t have what he needs, Sonic,” Maddie insisted. She wanted to handle this situation with delicacy. Sonic had been living with grief for weeks, and the new knowledge that Shadow had been alive and suffering the whole time had to break what was already fragile. But she had to push. Shadow would die without serious medical intervention.
“What about Stone?” the name made Shadow stir a little. “He owes us for letting him make sad latte art in his coffee shop instead of handing him over to GUN. The Mean Bean was Egghead’s techy hideout. He might have medical stuff.”
Maddie examined her son, skeptical. She knew Stone had taken up residence in their town, and he hadn’t made a peep since his boss died. However… if Shadow survived, could the doctor have made it out, too? She suppressed a shudder – she vividly remembered believing she was going to die alongside her husband and son, crushed underfoot by a gigantic robot. He'd wanted Sonic cut open on a slab. She had no sympathy for the man and hoped he was rotting.
Shadow, on the other hand… She couldn’t hate him the same way. There was a vast difference between a traumatized child lashing out and a maniacal grown man intent on universal conquest. And with Sonic petting the other hedgehog, muttering promises of future races across the continent, she knew condemning Shadow to the grave would break her son’s heart.
As for Stone, Maddie didn’t know the man and didn’t care to. If he proved to be Shadow’s best chance at survival, and by extension Sonic’s best hope for peace, Maddie could conceivably tolerate him.
“Okay, we’ll ask Stone,” she relented. “It’s still gonna be a while before he’s race-ready, Sonic. He needs to take it easy. He’s got tissue necrosis, pulmonary embolisms… Normally, I’d say he needs a sealed respiratory enclosure, but I think we can get away with putting him on oxygen.”
A sealed enclosure would be better for his physical health and would destroy him mentally. He’d been alone in space for two weeks, untouched by wind or grass or another living being. Mobians were even more physical than humans, by Maddie’s observation. She’d found Knuckles with his big arms wrapped around his brothers as they snuggled together in the same bed more than once. Sonic liked to roll in flower fields just to feel nature against his fur, and liked Maddie plucking the flora from his quills. Tails plopped into Tom’s or Maddie’s laps for no particular reason, only wanting to be close.
Shadow whimpered when Sonic let go of him. It was clear he needed to be touched. Isolation in a sterile, sealed box would break him.
The rest of the ultrasound revealed more of the horror inflicted on Shadow. His heart had atrophied from zero gravity, withering in his chest to a fraction of the size of Sonic’s. His liver and kidneys were failing, likely poisoning his bloodstream with unfiltered toxins. His immune system would be effectively useless against infection or illness. And he was severely underweight – no way he’d be able to eat solid food without purging.
“Can you follow the light?” Maddie asked after she produced a dim pen light from a drawer. She swept the beam slowly across Shadow’s eyes. His pupils were sluggish and he struggled to track movement. He wasn’t completely blind, just impaired. That was the closest thing to good news so far.
“One more thing. Can you try and stand up for me?”
With Sonic’s help, Shadow sat up. He managed to get to his feet on the examination table and dragged himself upright. Only to immediately collapse into Sonic’s arms. Sonic set him back down carefully while Maddie frowned. Orthostatic intolerance or sheer exhaustion? She was inclined to think the former. His shrunken heart was too weak to regulate his blood pressure.
“Hey, Shadow? Can you listen to me for a bit?” Maddie called to her patient gently. Shadow moved his gaze to Maddie, then immediately looked off to the side, rejecting eye contact. That was good enough, so she continued, “You need an IV drip and an oxygen supply. Hopefully, we can get you set up with everything at our home. You can’t stay at the vet clinic long-term. We don’t have the facilities unless you want to sleep in a dog cage.”
“It’s not comfy,” Sonic advised. “Tom put me in one once.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Shadow’s eyes went wide and he tried to scramble away from Sonic and Maddie in a futile attempt to flee. He fumbled and a hand slipped off the edge of the examination table. He barely avoided tumbling to the floor due to Sonic catching him. He tucked Shadow, still struggling, into his arms and said,
“Shadow, calm down, it’s okay! Tom’s not gonna hurt you!”
“I’m sor… sorry.” He gurgled on the ‘r’ and spat blood again. Sonic’s gloves were a mess of gel and blood as he tried to keep Shadow from hurting himself. Maddie stayed back, knowing Shadow could overpower her if he panicked, even if he didn't mean to. Much like a large breed of dog that used his teeth defensively, not aggressively.
“That’s good, Shadow, I’m happy to hear you’re sorry about what happened,” Maddie said. Shadow nodded frantically, still trying to wriggle free. “Why don’t you come home with us and tell Tom that? It’s only fair that he hears it from you.”
That stilled him. He slumped in Sonic’s arms, surrendering.
“I’ll… accept… punish… ment.”
“Oh, honey.” The endearment slipped out. Maddie couldn’t help it, this poor thing was so beaten down and pitiable. “No one is going to punish you.”
Sonic noticed her slip and grinned slyly at her. She squinted at him in a slightly scolding look. He didn’t look the least bit contrite. Shadow, however, just gurgled and cringed into Sonic’s hold. He said he’d accept punishment, but was still seeking protection from the only person he felt safe with.
He truly believed they meant to hurt him, and intended to let them. That was well and truly awful, and implied all sorts of horrors about his state of mind. Words weren’t getting through to him, so he would have to come home and see for himself that he was safe.
Maddie got to work irrigating Shadow’s wounds, setting his broken bone, casting his arm, and wrapping his torso in bandages. Sonic took up the task of getting Shadow’s arm into a sling while Maddie checked out an oxygen tank and mask, telling Nancy to charge her for the equipment.
They packed the oxygen tank and IV stand into the car. She could only hope Stone had the rest of what they needed, but their priority for now was to get this wounded, sick child home.
Chapter 2: no need to pray, no need to speak
Summary:
Shadow is tired.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sonic eased the bathroom door open with his hip, careful not to jostle the fragile weight in his arms. Shadow’s body fit against him strangely. Gone was the solid, strong chest and abdomen that pressed Sonic from behind while shoving his face into glass. The faint floral scent of Shadow’s fur, caught by Sonic’s nose right before being thrown into a desk, was replaced by a sour reek of infected wounds. Shadow was skin stretched over bone, starvation stealing his muscle and fat and caving in the space under his ribs.
Sonic wanted to cry. He had no right to, not when he filled his lungs without pain and stood on his own two feet. Shadow was the one who suffered, not him.
Maddie followed close behind with the heavy oxygen tank awkwardly braced against her hip. She flipped the overhead light on, flooding the room in harsh fluorescence that made Shadow flinch and turn his head into Sonic’s chest. Sonic tightened his hold and shushed him.
“You’re not in a lab,” he said, figuring the stark white surroundings and glaring light brought bad memories. He nuzzled his chin over the soft prickle of Shadow’s quills. “Just our bathroom.”
After setting the tank down with a muted thud, Maddie knelt and folded a towel for Shadow to sit comfortably on the rim of the tub. Sonic set him down, and Maddie checked the water temperature with her hand while Sonic eased off Shadow’s clunky, heavy shoes. His rings loosely clinked around his ankles.
Sonic was glad everyone else was out today. He wasn’t ready to explain the situation to Tails and Knuckles. Or Tom.
“I’m going to clean up your mouth, honey,” Maddie warned, her voice quiet so it barely stirred the air.
She dipped a soft loofah into the water, wrung it out, and wiped at the blood crusted on Shadow’s muzzle. It came away green, dotted with brown dirt and tan fur. Her touch was gentle, yet Shadow swayed unsteadily as she scrubbed, too weak to hold himself still. Sonic kept a hand on his shoulder so he wouldn’t tip over, brushing a thumb over his jutting collarbone.
Once his face was clean and dry, Sonic fitted the oxygen mask on, adjusting the strap to sit comfortably between his bundles of quills. The mask was designed for a dog’s extended snout, chosen from the vet clinic’s supply so it wouldn’t squish his nose.
Maddie set Shadow’s sling aside and carefully lowered his cast arm to rest on his lap. Shadow barely reacted, though the strained wheeze in his lungs eased slightly as the oxygen and warm humidity offered a sliver of relief.
His eyes were drooping shut and his body sagged with exhaustion. He looked spent, like there was no fire burning bright at his core. Just sputtering embers. Sonic wanted to shield that weak flame with his own body even if it burned him. He wanted to fix what he broke.
“You’ll get a nap soon, buddy,” Sonic promised. Shadow only blinked slowly at him.
“Sonic.” Maddie snapped a pair of gloves on, making Shadow wince again. “I need you to run to Stone while I get him cleaned up.”
“What? No, I’m staying with Shadow,” Sonic protested, head snapping towards his mother.
“Sonic.” Maddie’s voice went stern. She handed him her phone, screen glowing with the list of medications she’d dictated on the drive home. “I know you want to stay with your friend and I wish you could, but Shadow needs some things right now that I don’t have. Shadow is very, very sick and he needs disinfectant, dressings… I need you to be fast.”
She pried away his bandages, applied hastily at the clinic to keep him covered for the drive. They stuck with wet blood and pus, displaying flayed skin and patchy fur clinging to clotted wounds. The pungent smell of infection was so strong it thickly coated Sonic’s tongue. Sonic felt dizzy and cast his gaze down to Shadow’s mostly unharmed feet. The one part of him that didn’t look like he was rotting.
“…No,” Shadow murmured so quietly the sound was nearly muffled into silence by his mask.
“Shadow doesn’t want me to leave,” Sonic insisted stubbornly. He scratched gently behind one of Shadow’s ears. Shadow leaned in, seeking the touch he craved.
“I know, I’m sorry honey, but Shadow needs medicine more than he needs you in the room right now,” Maddie said carefully while lathering baby shampoo into the loofah. “I need to get him clean and properly bandaged before the morphine wears off. Which we also need more of. I’ve got him, Sonic. You’ll have plenty of time together once we get him settled in.”
Sonic hovered, torn. Maddie was right. Shadow was sick and needed medicine, but he was also tugging weakly at the cuff of Sonic’s glove. The gesture was feeble and it was all the strength Shadow had. He probably didn’t understand what was happening, why Sonic was being told to leave. He wanted one thing from Sonic, his presence, and Sonic was denying him.
He took his hand away from Shadow and brushed it through his striped quills. A few fell out, crumbling at the follicle. “I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone. Close your eyes and pretend I’m still here.”
“Don’t… leave.”
The words were a jagged knife slipped between his ribs, and they punctured Sonic in the heart. Sonic knew Shadow would be safe with Maddie, but Shadow didn’t know that.
“Maddie is gonna take care of you,” Sonic said firmly, trying to impress his absolute confidence in his mother onto Shadow. “Hang in there. Back in a flash.”
He stepped back reluctantly, stashed Maddie’s phone in his quills, and turned to leave. At the doorway, he looked back.
Shadow’s eyes were shut tight like Sonic told him, pretending he wasn’t being abandoned. Even though Maddie warned him, Shadow still flinched when the loofah touched his side. Sonic didn’t know if it was fear or pain or both. Either way, he needed to move.
The Mean Bean found new life since Stone began running it like a proper business and not a villain's hideout. Warm lighting pooled over polished tables, soft jazz curled through the air, and the smell of cinnamon buns and espresso greeted the morning regulars when they stepped inside. The hand-lettered chalkboard menu rotated daily specials. The display case, once home to stale display bagels, now held golden croissants, cherry turnovers, and chocolate chip fudge brownies that sold out by noon.
Stone hired a real baker. A real grouch of a woman who’d whack Stone across the head with a spoon if he stole a scoop of her cookie dough. He’d brought in a roster of fresh-faced kids working their first real job to man the front of the house. A good bunch that hadn’t been jaded by the frustration of customer service. And wouldn’t be, with any luck. Green Hills had good people who said ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’
Life was quiet these days. Content.
After fifteen years of traveling the world for shadow ops no one would read about in a government report, then another ten standing behind Ivo like a second spine, Stone didn’t expect peace to suit him. He found satisfaction in checking inventory, in the smell of ground coffee beans, and in seeing familiar faces returning for their usuals. He had a clipboard for arranging schedules and an apron embroidered with ‘Manager’ in gold lettering on green material.
He liked to think the doctor was looking down on him proudly. Honestly, though, he’d probably call Stone’s life pedestrian. A boring, mundane life that wasted his potential, if he was feeling cruel. The doctor was a genius, but he wasn’t right about everything.
Keeping busy soothed the ache of missing him.
“Your mocha, Marcy,” Stone said warmly, sliding the paper cup across the counter. Later, when Marcy arrived at her work desk and pried off the lid to add a sprinkle of nutmeg, she’d find a flower blooming in the foam. “Tell your boss I said to let you leave on time for once.”
She laughed and waved goodbye as she headed out the door, then the next customer stepped up to the register. They stared at the menu like it was written in cuneiform, because their time in line wasn’t long enough to make a decision. Apparently. Stone repressed a sigh. Customer service was part of the routine, and the routine kept him grounded.
Then, without warning, the front door burst open and a blue hurricane whipped through the sleepy morning vibe.
“’Scuse me! Hero business! Coming through!” Sonic quipped as he dodged the line and vaulted over the counter in a fluid arc.
Some customers were amused by his antics and greeted him with a cheerful, “Hey, Sonic!” or a “Who needs saving today?” Others yelped and stepped away from the blue blur streaking past them.
Sonic wasn’t an unfamiliar sight at The Mean Bean. He checked in on Stone to make sure he hadn’t inherited Ivo’s penchant for world domination. And paired his suspicion with a hot chocolate, maybe a bagel with scallion cream cheese.
Stone looked down at the menace by his feet, ready to deliver a scathing rebuke about wild animals behind the counter violating health codes, and paused. Sonic wasn’t smirking or grinning boyishly. He was looking up with what Stone’s training in reading expressions told him was fear. The scent that wafted over the counter wasn’t grass or wind or earth, it was sharp and clinical. Like disinfectant.
“Just a sec, folks,” Stone called out to the room with a plastic customer service smile. “Our local hero needs his caffeine fix, it’s how he breaks the sound barrier!”
Customers chuckled, any nerves about Sonic’s appearance soothed, and returned to their lattes and croissants.
“Tanner,” he said to the pink-haired barista working the espresso machine, “Take the register.”
“Got it, boss!” the girl chirped and took Stone’s place, while Stone shuffled Sonic through a door marked ‘Staff Only.’ The break room was warm and homey with knitted blankets draped over couch cushions, a few landscape paintings on the walls, and the buzz of the refrigerator in the background. A cozy little retreat for employees on their lunch break.
When the door shut, Stone’s smile dropped.
“Blue hedgehog,” he greeted cooly. He folded his arms and leaned against the back of a couch.
“I need medicine. All of this,” Sonic said without preamble, no snark or quips. He searched through his quills and produced a phone, unlocked it, then handed it over.
The screen was open to a notes app with a long, long list of medications.
PRIORITY
hydrogel dressings no stick plus adhesive mesh
silver sulfadiazine cream
topical lidocaine
sterile wraps
EVERYTHING ELSE
oxygen
morphine
gabapentin
albuterol
dexamethasone
acetylcysteine
broad-spectrum antibiotics
lactated Ringer’s solution
vitamin complexes A, B, C, D, E
filgrastim
lactulose
TPN
spare IV lines
NO NSAIDS – kidneys compromised
Stone slowly lowered the phone. Sonic was tapping his foot against the tiled floor and glaring.
“You got all that?” he pressed.
“Kid, whoever you’re treating needs to be in an ICU,” Stone said flatly. “This isn’t a scraped knee. This is multisystem trauma. Burns, infection…” He browsed the list again. “This reads like a treatment for barotrauma. The doctor had me research vacuum exposure before…”
Before they went up with the Eclipse Cannon. Stone hadn’t gone with him, in the end. All that prep, wasted. A lot of things ended up wasted.
He was not going to break down in front of the blue menace, so he took a breath to steady himself and asked, “Who are you treating?”
“It’s not Robuttnik,” Sonic quickly dashed Stone’s meager hopes, and he was frustrated for even thinking it. Of course Sonic wasn’t helping Ivo, stupid of him to think it might be so. “It’s Shadow. And he needs you to hurry up.”
Shadow. The name landed like a stone dropped into still water, stirring up the settled silt in his chest.
The prickly little alien that complained about bad soap opera writing, and then wagged his tail when Gabriella nailed a dramatic reveal. Who liked his guac hotter than hell and preferred kettle chips over tortilla. Who’d been used by that bastard Gerald, same as Ivo. Who seemed like a good kid on a bad path.
Stone’s answer was crisp and clear: “Latte with steamed Austrian goat milk.”
The room came alive. A quiet click preceded a series of deep mechanical whirs as hidden gears engaged. The fridge sank into the floor as the wall behind it opened up into a large storage space, filled with rows and rows of stacked shelving. Framed pictures flipped to reveal live security feeds and scrolling data streams. Countertops retracted to reveal a neatly organized arms cache that would make a GUN operative salivate with envy.
A loud thunk signaled the door locking, preventing any curious employees from seeing the room like this.
“Cool, cool…” Sonic said, looking around and whistling. Even fussing and in a hurry, he just couldn’t help himself. “I get it. Coffee in the front, villain lair in the back. It’s like a mullet for buildings.”
Sonic gave the guns a skeptical look, then arched an eyebrow at Stone. He didn’t make an issue of it, not today. Though Stone suspected he was going to find the guns missing sometime soon.
Stone stepped into the storage space and retrieved one of several bright red go-bags, then handed it to Sonic. It was bulky enough he had to hug it to his chest to keep it from dragging on the ground.
“That’s got everything you need for wound care. I’ll follow you in my car with the rest. Tell Mrs. Wachowski she’s getting PPIs and melatonin, too. All these meds are gonna chew up his stomach and the steroids will screw up his sleep cycle.”
Sonic hesitated. “Maddie doesn’t want you in our house. Can’t you just give me everything now?”
“I’m guessing that big ‘priority’ at the top of the list means she wants that stuff now.” He waggled the phone. “The rest will take time to dig out. And I doubt you can carry a dozen oxygen tanks. Back exit’s clear. Go.”
Sonic nodded, said, “You’d have made a good doctor. Shame you went the villain lackey route,” then disappeared fast enough to make Stone stumble from the rush of air he kicked up.
Ivo said something like that once. Actually, he said Stone was wasting his potential following the doctor around like a puppy, but the intent was the same.
Stone shook off the memory, picked up an empty duffle and a cold storage bag, then paused when his eye caught a wall safe. He spun the dial and retrieved a small cache of documents. If Maddie Wachowski wanted to take care of Shadow, there was something she needed to see.
Maddie worked slowly, letting the sponge rest in the basin of warm water until the heat seeped into her fingers. A faint scent of chamomile and honey drifted up from the bubbles. Tails’ baby shampoo was gentle enough not to sting even the raw skin exposed by Shadow’s patchy fur. She wrung the sponge out until it was barely damp, the pressed it to Shadow’s coat in slow, deliberate strokes.
She’d flushed most of the grit from his wounds at the clinic, but the rest of him was still caked with grime. Dried sweat, gritty soil, and filth clung to the narrow spaces between his quills, weighed down his remaining fur. He’d feel much better with it gone.
She rinsed the sponge under the faucet, watching the brown water disappear down the drain, then dunked the sponge in the basin. She repeated the process again. Always slow, always patient, and always warning Shadow before she touched him.
“Okay,” she murmured, voice low so it wouldn’t startle. “Now your back.”
She hummed as she swept the sponge beneath the arch of his back spines. Like she might do with a horse so it didn’t lose track of where she was and kick in surprise. Shadow’s oxygen deprived brain was slow and foggy. She didn’t want him to forget where he was or what Maddie was doing. So he wouldn’t kick. Or worse, teleport somewhere she couldn’t find him.
Shadow still flinched, despite the warning. He kept his eyes shut, maybe pretending Sonic was here like he’d said to do.
“I’m sorry I sent Sonic away,” she said quietly. Shadow’s ears twitched at the mention of Sonic’s name. “I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t completely necessary. I needed him to go fast and you know he’s the best at that. He’s going to bring back what we need to get you better.”
Or so she hoped. She was far and away out of her comfort zone. This wasn’t reviving Sonic with smelling salts or bringing her absurdly durable kids in for a check-up. Shadow needed consistent, methodical care. And Maddie wasn’t sure she could provide it. She was a veterinarian and Shadow was not the kind of hedgehog she was trained to treat.
The sponge passed over a burn and Shadow flinched again. Not from her touch, from pain. These were radiation burns from the sun searing his skin without any ozone to protect him, severe enough for nerve damage. Which meant morphine didn’t do a thing for them. Shadow must have been in pain at the clinic but he hadn’t said a word of complaint. That wasn’t good – children were supposed to cry when they were hurt. Someone made him stay quiet. If he wouldn’t speak up, Maddie wouldn’t know when something was wrong.
“I’m going to tell you everything I’m going to do before I do it,” she continued. “Every procedure, every medicine. I’ll tell you what it is, why it’s needed, and what you can expect to feel.”
One ear turned towards her. His forehead scrunched a little. She couldn’t read Shadow like she could her kids, but she thought maybe he was surprised.
“You’re not in a lab anymore,” she went on. “I’m not going to experiment on you. This is my home and you’re under my care. We do everything on your terms.”
His eyes opened for the first time since Sonic left. His eyes twitched back and forth like he was trying to examine her face, look for any signs of a lie. Or trying to see her features with blurred vision. She looked back at him confidently, letting him read whatever he needed to. After a long moment, he shut his eyes again.
His head dipped forward and his chin bumped his chest. Then he startled like someone who didn’t mean to fall asleep. He looked around, briefly confused, then tensed up when he saw Maddie and oriented himself. He was so tired he was falling into microsleeps sitting upright.
“Do you not want to sleep before Sonic gets back?” Maddie guessed.
He didn’t answer and Maddie didn’t expect him to.
“I understand,” she said while continuing the bath. Under the grime, his fur was such a deep black it shimmered like water reflecting a moonless night sky. Quite the contrast against her colorful bunch of kids. “I know you’re scared and uncomfortable. That’s okay. I’m not mad at you for not trusting me.”
Another flick of his ears. His breathing behind the mask stuttered a little, and it was hard to judge whether it was a reaction or him struggling to get air.
“You trust Sonic, don’t you?” she asked after he got his breathing steady again. “He wouldn’t bring you to me if he thought I’d hurt you. Would he?”
His eyes opened again and he held her gaze for longer this time. Then, in a faint voice, he said, “… No.”
That one word, that transfer of trust from Sonic to her, felt like a breakthrough. He stopped flinching when she touched him. He still shut his eyes, but his brow relaxed.
He had so much dirt in his quills, it fell in a shower of soil and small pebbles when she combed them out. She’d have to scrub the bath by hand – if she washed it down the drain, it would clog. This poor thing, it had to itch something fierce.
And he murmured a quiet, “Thank… you,” when he was finally clean.
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Shadow wasn’t all that different from Sonic, really. Maddie’s rambunctious middle child hid his own pain, too. Along with his fear, his doubts, his anger. He masked it with a grin instead of a glower, but the solution was the same. They both needed a little kindness, a little love, and the occasional warm bath.
Maddie dropped the sponge in the bathtub and dried Shadow off with gentle pats. He was tense in Maddie’s arms as she awkwardly carried him, scooting the oxygen tank along the ground with a foot. He didn’t lean into her chest the way he did with Sonic. He didn’t squirm away from her, either. It was the quiet tolerance of someone still making up his mind.
She set him on the couch and draped a blanket over his shoulders so his damp fur wouldn’t chill him. His head listed forward and his eyes fluttered several times while she shoved the coffee table away to give herself space. She left his sling and shoes in the bathroom, he didn’t need either for now.
And with flawlessly serendipitous timing, Sonic burst through the door again, this time managing to not rattle the family photos on the wall. He turned the corner from the foyer into the living room, holding a brightly colored bag in both arms.
“Shadow!” he greeted brightly. “Mom! Stone had everything!”
Shadow’s ears flicked towards the voice and he opened his eyes. He leaned forward when Sonic came into view. A finger lifted, the most he could do to reach for Sonic.
Sonic presented the bag to her with a proud grin. She was reminded of how strong her son was when she took the weight off him and could barely keep it aloft. She gave a small ‘oof’ when she set it on the ground and unzipped it.
“Stone’s right behind me with the rest,” Sonic announced. “He’s got the meds, oxygen tanks, all that. You said this was the most important, so…” He trailed off with a small, hopeful smile, waiting for her to approve of the effort.
She wasn’t thrilled about Stone being her. It made sense, however, and Sonic wouldn’t let him in if he wasn’t confident he could keep them safe. She scratched Sonic between the ears and praised, “This is perfect, Sonic. You did great.”
Sonic beamed and hopped onto the couch while Maddie searched through the supplies. She found everything she needed and more.
“You hear that?” Sonic was saying as Maddie began to prepare an irrigation bottle. He was adjusting Shadow’s blanket unnecessarily as an excuse to be close. He didn’t need one, Shadow leaned in towards Sonic without prompting. “You’re gonna be race-ready in no time.”
It was a sweet sentiment, if far from the truth.
“Shadow, honey? Can you listen to me?” Maddie called. Both hedgehogs turned towards her. Shadow tensed, eyeing the bottle, and Sonic took his hand.
She explained step-by-step the process for dressing his wounds; more irrigation, then disinfecting and numbing cream for the cuts and abrased skin, then hydrogel pads and adhesive mesh for the burns, then finishing with gauze and sterile wraps.
“She’s gonna clean your wounds again and put some stuff on ‘em that will help you,” Sonic summarized. “Cool?”
Shadow nodded, then fell forward and bumped his forehead against Sonic’s. Sonic nuzzled him comfortingly, keeping both Shadow’s hands in his own. The blanket around his shoulders slipped off and Maddie readjusted it so it would be a barrier between Shadow and the couch. Maddie wasn’t convinced Shadow really understood, but his trust in Sonic was enough to carry them through the next part.
Maddie changed out her gloves and got to work.
The worst of his injuries were on his right side. Hip to rib and spine to chest, layers of skin had been scraped raw. The abrasions were pocked with small but deep cuts where he must have caught the edges of jagged rocks as he tumbled in the dirt. She’d heard of superbugs floating in the emptiness of space and hoped that wasn’t causing the infected pus seeping out. He bled very little, which Maddie expected – none of her kids bled much when injured.
She wished she didn’t know that.
Maddie had Sonic keep Shadow’s broken arm lifted while she irrigated the wounds. He let the cast rest on his shoulder while Shadow’s breath hissed through his teeth.
“Hey,” Sonic said lightly, “let’s think about something else.” He guided Shadow’s hand to his own chest “Try counting my heartbeats. They’re really fast, like the rest of me, so you gotta focus to keep up.”
Shadow gave a faint nod and shut his eyes, focusing his attention away from the sting of saline and towards the rapid thrum under his hand. The distraction seemed to work and Shadow only winced a little when Maddie flushed a nasty cut.
“Hey, don’t lose count, you’re probably on 50 or 60 right?” Sonic chattered when Shadow groaned.
Shadow drew back and admonished Sonic with a gentle bonk of their heads. “Lost… Count…”
Sonic shrugged and said, grinning, “Oops. Looks like you’ll have to start over.”
They made it through the irrigation with little fuss, thanks to Sonic’s distraction. While Maddie swapped the soiled blanket for a clean one, Sonic shifted Shadow onto his lap. He remained slumped against Sonic when he was set back on the new blanket, eyes shut and hand falling off of Sonic’s chest. Sonic had to adjust him to regain access to his injuries, smiling fondly all the while.
“This is going to sting for a few seconds,” Maddie cautioned, squeezing silver sulfadiazine onto her gloved fingers. “Then it’ll fade.”
Shadow tensed at the first touch, the ointment biting into the burns, then shuddered again when the lidocaine smoldered coldly before numbing him. He barely reacted to Maddie applying the hydrogel pads, only sighing in contentment when the cooling effect soothed his angry, dry skin. She bound them with adhesive mesh, then wrapped everything up with sterile bandages.
“All done!” she announced. “We’ll have to do all that again until that infection clears up, but we’ll have you on serious painkillers then. It won’t be so bad. How are you feeling, Shadow?”
“…Better,” he rasped. He fell back into Sonic’s arms, interpreting Maddie’s words as approval to cuddle again.
“That’s great!” Sonic enthused. He placed his hands carefully to embrace Shadow without causing him pain.
And because today was the day for perfect timing, the sound of a car pulling into their driveway reached them. Maddie stood and peeked out the window to see an unfamiliar vehicle, then watched Stone step out of the driver’s side.
Maddie left Shadow to Sonic and met their guest at the door before he could knock. He was hauling a heavy-looking bag in one hand and a cold storage bag in the other, along with a folder tucked under his arm.
“Special delivery,” former agent Stone announced. “Oxygen is in the trunk.”
Maddie weighed letting Stone into her home versus robbing a hospital for what they needed, and Stone came out on top. Barely. She stepped aside, allowing his entry as a guest instead of an invader on the hunt for her son.
He froze in the archway when he spotted Shadow on the couch. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Damn, kid.”
Maddie came up behind him and saw Shadow was staring back, having shifted away from Sonic and looking shame-faced.
“Sorry… Crab…” Shadow managed to say before a cough wracked his small frame. The retching sound knocked Stone out of his stupor and he moved further into the room.
He set the bags down by the couch, placed the folder on top, and crouched at Shadow’s feet. Sonic tugged Shadow a little closer.
The nonsensical apology must have meant something to Stone, because he said, “Water under the bridge, kid,” with an amused chuckle. This drew a small laugh out of Shadow, surprising Sonic and Maddie both. He paid for it with another coughing fit, and they were all harshly reminded why Stone was here.
“Let’s get some drugs in you,” he said, standing.
Maddie joined him in sorting through the bags. The contents were well-organized with IV bags neatly labeled, meds portioned and sealed, like they’d been lifted directly from an ICU. She decided not to dwell on the possibility.
“You can’t give him everything all at once on full blast,” Stone said briskly. “Do you have a whiteboard? We need to mock up a schedule for him. I’ve got a pump for the TPN, so we don’t have to micro-manage that. Did Blue mention the PPI?”
“Um, no,” Maddie stuttered, a little overwhelmed by the onslaught. Was Stone some kind of doctor, too? Proton pump inhibitors – she should have thought of that.
“Oops.” Sonic shrugged. Shadow made a low noise of protest when the movement jostled him.
She didn’t know dexamethasone interrupted sleep, either. Stone handed her a small bottle of melatonin gummies for when Shadow inevitably needed them. She felt a hint of gratitude for his filling in the gaps in her knowledge. It didn’t stem the tide of disdain she had for him by much.
Shadow dozed on Sonic while Maddie and Stone mapped out a schedule on a whiteboard. She retrieved it from Tails’ shed workshop, and hoped it didn’t have anything important on it before it was erased. She set a new IV catheter in his elbow while Stone hung bags on the IV stand and attached the tubing, then set each drip to slowly send medicine into Shadow’s body. Maddie explained each medication even though his sluggish blinks told her he wasn’t comprehending anything.
Still, Shadow murmured another “Thank you,” as if the effort to explain everything was appreciated anyway.
“And last, this is total parenteral nutrition.” She showed Shadow the milky-white contents of the final IV bag. Stone programmed the pump as she continued, “It’s important you don’t try to eat any solid food yet. This will give you everything you need. It’s going to feel strange at first, a little cold and a little pressure, but that’s normal. If any of this is making you feel sick, I need you to tell me.”
“That reminds me,” Stone interjected, stepping away from mounting the pump on the IV stand. “I brought something else.”
From the folder of documents he brought with him, Stone removed a single sheet of paper and handed the rest to Maddie. She arched an eyebrow, then flicked through the papers to see they were all slightly yellowing personal logs. Written by Gerald Robotnik.
Maddie was wary of reminding Shadow of the man that manipulated him into destroying the world. Was bringing Stone in a mistake after all?
“Hey, kid, remember this?” Stone showed the page he’d pulled out to Shadow. And maybe it wasn’t a mistake, because Shadow blinked at it, squinted, then his eyes went wide. He lifted a shaky hand to tap at something on the paper, and Stone smiled. “Yeah, good. I think we can use this, don’t you?”
“...Huh,” Sonic commented mildly, head tilted in curiosity.
Maddie, interest piqued, read the first document in the folder.
-
Project Shadow: Personal Log – Dr. Gerald Robotnik
October 3rd, 1974
Today marked a breakthrough in communication methodology, albeit an accidental one.
For several weeks, we’ve encountered persistent difficulty when attempting to assess the Lifeform’s emotional state. While he exhibits behavioral cues (withdrawal, irritability, increased startle response), he is functionally nonverbal in matters of feeling. Direct questioning results in vague deflections: “I’m fine,” “It doesn’t matter,” “I don’t know.” His vocabulary is well developed and his cognitive function is approximately on par with a human teenager, but his willingness to engage in self-reflection is deeply inhibited.
I suspect this is not due to cognitive limitations but rather emotional inhibition. This is likely the result of prolonged overexposure to invasive testing and environments where his pain has been minimized or ignored, as was observed in a previous log. However, it was not clear previously that the mistreatment extends beyond his housing situation.
Maria, curious and ever compassionate, brought him a stack of sketch paper and a set of markers. During a break in testing, she drew a series of simple faces – smiling, frowning, anxious, tired – and asked him “Which one feels like you today?”
Shadow pointed to the face marked “Confused.” When she asked, “Is there another one?” he pointed again. “Scared.”
This has shaken me more than I care to admit.
I have spent my time here designing protocols, safeguards, and stimuli systems to study and guide his development in order to correct the abuses my predecessors have committed against him. Yet, my granddaughter, with some paper and colored markers, managed to learn more about him than we have in our last ten evaluations.
It is a reminder that for all my age and experience, I have much to learn from the young.
Naturally, I followed up. I sat with him myself and asked, using Maria’s drawings: “How do you feel about the lab?”
He indicated “Scared” and “Hurt.”
Despite the new protocols, it seems the lab continues to be a source of distress for Shadow. I reviewed surveillance logs, testing schedules, and procedural notes. I spoke with several of the researchers involved in direct handling and physical examination. Their language is clinical to the point of inhumanity. Phrases like “subject is robust, capable of tolerating higher thresholds,” or “non-verbal distress not reliable indicator of withdrawal.”
I observed footage of technicians forcing completion of a mobility trial after the subj Shadow had broken an ankle, was visibly limping, and requested rest. One remarked “He doesn’t really feel pain like we do, right?”
His regenerative abilities healed the injury quickly, so none outside the testing facility observed his injury. I fear this may indicate past injuries may have been deliberately ignored, then unacknowledged once healed .
I confronted the lab’s GUN liaison regarding the removal of these personnel. I was told I lack the authority to dismiss them unless gross misconduct can be proven on record. Hurting Shadow, apparently, does not quality.
Effective immediately, I have reassigned several individuals to secondary observation and sample analysis. Any researchers who willfully ignore Shadow’s fatigue or pain are no longer permitted to interact with him directly. Furthermore, I will now personally observe all testing involving physical exertion or biological sampling.
The expression chart Maria designed has been refined, copied, and distributed to all team members. Shadow is to be given access to this tool before and after each procedure and may refuse testing at any point. If he indicates “Tired” or “Scared,” the session ends.
They don’t like it. I am accused of coddling him.
All developmental assessment indicates he is a child, despite his alien origins. He enjoys listening to music. He sulks when Maria defeats him in chess. He has preferences for sweet and bitter foods. He rejects vegetables because he observed Maria doing so and wishes to copy her, as any younger sibling might do. Maria adores him.
I want to pull the plug on this whole thing and let him grow up. Let him climb tress and play in the garden and fight over books like siblings do. He deserves that. She does too.
But GUN won’t allow it. They have made it clear when I took over this lab, I am expected to deliver viable, repeatable data. If progress slows, if results are not measurable, they will transfer Shadow to another facility. One that may not provide him proper housing and give him time away from the lab. One that won’t listen when he indicates he is tired and scared.
I will continue to capitulate to GUN’s demands while providing the best environment possible for Shadow. God forgive me, it’s all I can do.
-
Maddie read the log twice while Stone explained the expression chart he’d made for Shadow. Sonic nodded along, listening intently.
“Make sure you tell Maddie if you feel sick. That’s really important,” Stone was saying, showing Shadow how he could say as much with the chart.
Meanwhile, Maddie was elsewhere, trying to reconcile the man writing this log with the man that almost killed the world.
There were other documents in the file, but Maddie didn’t continue reading. She wouldn’t until Shadow gave her permission. Still, she appreciated having a suspicion confirmed. Shadow had been abused at the lab that raised him – just not by Gerald.
“Yeah, makes sense,” Stone replied to Shadow pointing at the paper. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”
Finally, Shadow could sleep. He passed out in Sonic’s arms, aided by a melatonin gummy, the morphine and gabapentin having done their work to ease his pain. Sonic carefully helped him rest his head on a pillow, then settled into the other side of the couch with a comic book. Staying close and watching over him, as promised.
While Maddie and Stone heaved the oxygen tanks out of Stone’s trunk, he said, “The old man had a bunch of files with him when he was working with the doctor. I brought the ones relevant to Shadow,” then admitted, “I read them looking for more reasons to hate the guy. Found one. He doesn’t mention his grandson once, like Ivo didn’t even exist to him. The rest of it…”
“He cared about Shadow,” Maddie sighed. She wasn’t interested in Stone’s bellyaching over the dead doctor. “That’s worse than if he never did.”
“Yeah,” Stone agreed. “Betrayal is always worse. Poor kid.”
They brought the six canisters of oxygen into the house, then Stone stuck around a while longer to refresh his knowledge of barotrauma. He posted up in the kitchen, out of the way, checking sources for anything they’d missed and what complications they could expect.
With Shadow sleeping and Sonic his vigilant protector, Maddie left them to clean up the disaster area that was their bathroom. The scent of chamomile still lingered faintly, contrasting with the traces of blood on the bathtub rim.
The words and images of the Flash comic blurred into meaningless streaks of color, like Sonic was speeding past them. His body was still and his mind was running laps. He was rehearsing explanations and excuses on repeat while he waited for his brothers to return home; He’s not dangerous anymore. He’s really hurt and needs our help. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t trust him. He saved everyone, we’d all be lasered to death without him.
None of it felt right. Nothing encapsulated the feverish need to keep Shadow safe, the car crash of joy and horror he felt holding him. The devastation he’d feel if Knuckles and Tails wanted their former foe cast out of the house.
He wasn’t ready when Knuckles and Tails arrived home from the dog park, dropped off by Wade.
“We have returned, Mother!” Knuckles heralded his arrival with a thunderous proclamation. Ozzie backed him up with a bark. “The fox’s prototype canine amusement device was a success!”
Sonic winced and glanced at the shape beside him on the couch. Shadow was bundled in layers like precious and breakable porcelain. His ears flicked with irritation, but mercifully, he didn’t wake.
“We had a whole pack of dogs playing with it!” Tails chimed in, quieter and still cheerful. “I distributed a survey to get feedback, and received some fascinating data.”
Sonic closed his comic, then rubbed one of Shadow’s ears soothingly and cooed, “I’m still here, keeping you safe. Sorry about the noise.”
He kissed Shadow’s forehead to apologize for leaving. He had to intercept his brothers before they made more of a ruckus. He exited the living room archway and stopped them in the hall. Ozzie bounded over to him and greeted Sonic with a friendly lick.
Sonic rubbed the dog on his head and said, “Hey, guys? Volume check.”
Knuckles froze mid-step. His shoe landed on the hardwood floor with exaggerated care. “Is there an enemy present? Do we prepare an ambush?”
“No, no enemies.” Sonic held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just a sick hedgehog that really needs his beauty sleep.”
Knuckles cheered, too loud again, “The more impressive hedgehog lives! He is a formidable warrior, indeed!”
Sonic’s frantic hand gestures made Knuckles clamp his hands over his mouth. He gave Sonic an apologetic look over his gloves.
“You found him alive?” Tails blinked up at Sonic in wonder. “GUN’s comms said they didn’t recover anything notable from the crater. I figured it was satellite debris or a meteor that broke apart on impact.”
“Or,” Stone’s voice cut in from the kitchen, “they realized their comms were compromised when Blue stole Shadow out from under them.”
Knuckles jolted and said, voice still muffled, “The goat-milker! This is an ambush!”
“I have a name, Knucklehead,” Stone griped in response, looking around the doorway to the kitchen to grouse at Knuckles. “And I’m here to help your more impressive hedgehog.”
“Actually, do you have a name?” Sonic asked, head tilted. “”Cause none of us know it.”
“Stick with Stone,” he said flatly, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
Tails laughed awkwardly, then diverted the conversation before Knuckles could start a fight in their hallway. “You got Shadow before GUN did? That’s great, Sonic!”
Sonic swiped under his nose and bragged, hiding his immense joy at his brothers being so accepting with bravado, “You think I can’t beat GUN to the punch? Me? C’mon Tails, some credit, please. And enough with the ‘more impressive thing,’ just use his name, Knucklehead.”
Thank you. Thank you for not making this harder, he didn’t say. Sonic didn’t want to make things all sentimental and mushy. He’d ruin all this with his messy feelings, and he didn’t want to ruin everything going right after two weeks of it all feeling so wrong.
Tails’ brow creased. “Can we see him? He must be in pretty rough shape.”
“Worse than rough,” Sonic admitted, weariness creeping into his voice before he could catch it. “Just be quiet, he’s sleeping. I don’t want him to wake up with Knux looming over him. He’s pretty easily spooked right now.”
“I will loom carefully,” Knuckles promised, still muffling himself. “And delay my revenge for the more impressive hedgehog spooking me.”
On any other day, that would have made Sonic laugh.
“There’s no telling what psychological effects two weeks of total sensory deprivation caused,” Tails continued grimly as he padded after Sonic into the living room. He began counting up on his fingers. “Neurological disruption, memory fragmentation, possible trauma-induced dysregulation. Let alone the physical effects. Soft tissue damage, muscle atrophy…”
“Mom gave me the rundown,” Sonic cut in. He didn’t need to hear how bad it was all over again. “She’s got him on… well, see for yourself.”
The trio entered the living room. The sight of Shadow punctured Sonic in the chest all over again. The noise in his head dulled to a distant roar. Shadow lay where Sonic left him, tucked under his pair of thick blankets, oxygen mask fogging with shallow breaths. The IV line trailed down from the stand and disappeared under the covers, like the thread of fate tying him to life. Bandages swaddled his visible shoulders, hinting at the wreckage underneath. He looked so small.
He was a burned out star and it was all Sonic’s fault.
“Oh…” Tails sighed, barely audible. Intellectualizing Shadow’s condition hadn’t prepared him for the reality of it. “Poor Shadow…”
Sonic cut the tension with forced brightness. “Ta-da!” he presented with a grand flourish while keeping his voice hushed. “One extra crispy, slightly radioactive hedgehog!”
Knuckles maintained his distance, keeping his promise to avoid frightening Shadow. He pressed a fist to his chest.
“Among the echidna, he would be honored highly for enduring such injury in battle,” he intoned grimly. “He would earn his place among our most venerated heroes.”
Sonic shrugged. “Eh, I think he’ll settle for a place in the family group chat.” The quip came out too high-pitched, and was his grin faltering? He felt shaky.
Knuckles eyed Sonic carefully, and Sonic dodged his scrutiny by diverting attention to Tails. “Whatcha up to, little buddy?”
Tails had marched towards Shadow with purpose, the Miles Electric in hand. “Scanning his chaos energy. I noticed when we encountered him in Tokyo, he has his own reserve of energy. Like a living chaos emerald, almost. The reading is weak but definitely present. His chaos energy might be what kept him alive.”
“Or he glared death into backing down,” Sonic joked. No one laughed.
Knuckles frowned. “Hedgehog, are you well?”
“Pfft, me? I’m great.” Sonic struck a confident pose. “One not-dead hedgehog home safe, nobody flipping out and throwing him into the street, mom’s got his meds handled, and I didn’t cry earlier in a forest. Ten-outta-ten day, no notes!”
There was no reason for Sonic to feel like he was about to throw up. He swallowed the bile burning his throat. Everything was going great.
“Are you sure?” Tails insisted. “It’s okay if you’re upset. Losing Shadow really affected you, so getting him back must be… a lot.”
“Yeah, it is a lot.” Sonic remembered to crinkle his eyes when he smiled so it wouldn’t be detected as fake. “A lot to celebrate! Why would I be bummed out?”
Knuckles was unconvinced. However, instead of challenging Sonic, he redirected. “…Chaos energy transforms thoughts into reality. Perhaps his mighty will transformed his energy into life itself.”
Sonic latched onto that. Because it meant Shadow’s sacrifice had been out of necessity, not a desire to die. It meant he saw hope in the sunrise they watched together.
Maddie called on Knuckles to help her store the oxygen tanks. He dutifully carried them, three in each arm, and stashed them in a coat closet – the most practical spot she could think of to keep them accessible yet out of sight. With the last tank in place, he announced with solemn gravity,
“I will patrol the street. If Shadow’s enemies approach, they will not reach him unchallenged.”
Maddie watched him go, grateful for his vigilance. Things were going to get messy again. At least they had defenders on every front.
She checked Shadow’s vitals with swift efficiency, trying to bother him as little as possible. His blood pressure and oxygen saturation hadn’t improved, but hadn’t worsened either. A thermometer popped in his mouth showed a low-grade fever. She tried not to worry about it, getting worse before getting better was normal, and fever wasn’t unexpected with infected wounds.
Tails logged his numbers on the Miles Electric, then began copying the meds schedule into his system. He set alarms for dosage changes and began a graph to chart Shadow’s progress.
“He’s doing okay?” Sonic fussed when she reported his updated condition. “The medicine’s working?”
“I don’t know yet, sweetheart,” she answered honestly. “It’s too soon to tell.”
Maddie took the chance to scan the expression chart. He’d printed out several emojis, blown up large enough for Shadow’s fuzzy vision, and dutifully labeled them. It was thoughtful, she reluctantly admitted.
She hated to disturb Shadow, but the bandages needed changing. He’d need it done often so the pus wasn’t left to fester on his skin.
“Shadow?” she murmured, gently calling him. “I need you to wake up for me.”
His eyelids fluttered open as he emerged from the haze of morphine and fatigue. He looked around dazedly until his gaze fell on the blur of cobalt beside him.
“Son… ic…” he managed to say. “You… stayed…”
“Of course, bud.” Sonic plucked a few loose quills from Shadow’s scalp, grooming him tenderly. “I’m not leaving you to fight on your own ever again.”
Again bothered Maddie. He mentioned talking to Shadow on the moon, turning him away from the path of vengeance, but never disclosed exactly what was said or why it lingered. That’s private , he insisted. Personal. Sonic refused to elaborate on why Shadow’s death gutted him so thoroughly, only ever saying he needed to be a better hero.
The shape of his grief was taking form and it looked a lot like guilt.
Maddie felt like she’d just hit on something important, some deep understanding of what her son was going through. But they’d have to talk about it later, because the encounter she was most worried about was signaled by the garage door rolling open.
Tom was home.
Maddie stood, cursing in the privacy of her mind. She wasn’t ready for this, and Shadow certainly wasn’t, either. He was calm now, lulled by Sonic’s chatter, and didn’t know yet who had arrived.
Tom would take his time in the garage to lock his service weapon in its safe, stash his badge in a drawer, and toss his uniform jacket in the laundry. Maddie chewed her lip, thinking of how to explain Tom’s almost-murderer taking up residence in their living room.
Sonic barreled on, words spilling out of him like a burst dam. “We’ve got a whole backlog of options here. ‘Velocidad de la Luz’ has more drama per minute than a hold up on a speeding train. And I heard good things about-”
“Sonic,” Tails interrupted, looking up from the Miles Electric. “Maybe slow down a little?”
“Not really my brand,” Sonic shrugged. “I’m just helping him pick a show. So he has something to watch while Maddie pokes him.”
“I know,” Tails continued, voice tentative. He gave Shadow a wary glance. “It takes him longer to process stuff. You have to give him time to think.”
Sonic froze mid-gesture, then deflated, shoulders falling as though caught doing harm. He looked at Shadow, who was slouched against the couch’s arm, back supported by his pillow and glassy eyes tracking him sluggishly. He pet Shadow between the ears in apology.
“Right. Pumping the brakes.”
Out in the hallway, the garage door opened. Maddie’s pulse spiked. Out of time.
Maddie went to greet her husband, deciding to wing it and hope for the best. Tom dropped an alien hedgehog into her lap with no warning, this was basically karmic payback.
He smiled brightly at the sight of her when she met him, reaching out his good arm for a hug. “Whew, you wouldn’t believe the day I had,” he said while drawing her into an embrace. “An escaped fugitive, a daring breakout from lockup, and a shootout!”
“So, you dropped a donut and it rolled under your desk, Wade got stuck in holding again, and you flung rubber bands at each other until somebody surrendered,” Maddie corrected, amused.
“Got it in one.” He kissed her, then let her go, intending to move further into the house until Maddie slowed him down. She raised a hand and he arched an eyebrow.
She decided to rip the bandage off quick. “Shadow is on our couch.”
Tom blinked. Once. Twice.
“The Shadow? Shadow is alive?” Tom pried, startled into blinking rapidly.
Maddie nodded, steeling herself for the fallout. Tom just needed to see Shadow to understand-
Tom put his hand on Maddie’s waist and a grin broke out on his face. “That’s great news! Sonic must be so happy.”
Maddie kissed him for that. She loved this man, truly. “He’s over the moon. And scared. Shadow was pretty upset when Sonic mentioned you. He said he was sorry and agreed to come home with us for a chance to apologize to you. Be gentle with him. He’s not in a good place, mentally.”
“Got it,” Tom confirmed, smiling easily.
Maddie stepped aside and let him pass. He turned towards the archway into the living room. The change was immediate. Conversation cut short like a snapped wire. Shadow gasped, which led into a wet gurgle. He hunched over and spit blood into the plastic bucket next to the couch. Clutching his mask back to his muzzle, he dragged in shallow, panicked breaths. He pulled his legs in, scrunching his blankets, and probably would have curled up fully if his injuries allowed it.
Sonic looked nervously back and forth between Shadow and Tom, caught between defending his friend and respecting his dad.
“Hey, kids,” Tom greeted merrily, like he hadn’t just walked into a trauma response.
“Welcome home, Donut Lord!” Sonic returned. His smile trembled at the corner of his lips.
Shadow couldn’t speak if he wanted to. His breathing was too strained. Maddie wanted to go to him, rub his chest and calm him down, but crowding him right now would likely make things worse. He held his mask and looked to the floor. His ears were pinned back hard and his shoulders quivered. He was terrified. And he wasn’t fighting or fleeing, just bracing himself for the retribution he thought was coming.
As if anybody could hurt a hunched over and bandaged hedgehog with a broken arm attached to a breathing mask and IV. She thought of the other scientists, Gerald’s predecessors. What sort of monsters did Shadow grow up with that he expected harm when he was at his weakest?
Tom approached slowly. Shadow refused to look at him.
“Hey,” Tom said gently. He knelt by the couch, making himself smaller and less threatening. “You don’t have to look at me if you don’t want to. I’d like you to listen to me, is that okay?”
Shadow glanced briefly at Tom, his eyes darting down to his arm in a sling, then back to the floor. He nodded so slightly it could have been mistaken for another deep breath.
“What you did scared the hell out of us, I won’t lie about that,” Tom admitted. Sonic opened his mouth, but Maddie put a finger to her lips. He quieted, waiting. “I had a lot of time to think in that hospital bed. And the thing on my mind was, why didn’t you kill me?”
Shadow vigorously shook his head and made to take off his mask. Sonic stopped him.
“You could have,” Tom continued, calm and steady. “You didn’t. Even when you thought I was the guy that locked you up for fifty years. You didn’t kill any GUN soldiers that came after you, either. You didn’t kill a single person even after you decided to laser the planet. Why? Everybody was gonna die anyway, so why hold back?”
Shadow shook his head again. He made an odd gesture with his hand, miming gripping something then dropping it. Sonic watched him, then realization dawned on his face.
“Oh, the black hole thing? Still counts, dude. You could have set that thing off right next to us. You didn’t do it to hurt us, you were wiping out the base ‘cause the old guy told you to, right? Heck, did you even know what that thing was gonna do, or did he hand you a marble and tell you to charge it up?”
Shadow reluctantly nodded. It was like he wanted them to blame him, reminding them of his worst actions so they’d validate his feelings of guilt. Maybe even self-hatred. Well, he wouldn’t get it. Nobody in this house hated him.
“How did you feel when Ivo said everybody in the base was dead?” Stone asked, still keeping some distance and lingering in the archway.
Shadow scrunched his forehead, struggling to recall the memory, then tapped the fuming red emoji followed by a face green with illness.
“Angry at who?” Maddie pressed for clarification. Maybe if he were healthy he would have goaded them, doubled down on convincing them he was wicked and deserved punishment. But he wasn’t, and he was too sick and disoriented to construct a lie.
Shadow tapped his own chest. He was angry at himself.
Tom continued, voice going even softer, “I don’t know if you ever fully understood what you were doing. I don’t think you wanted to kill anyone, you just wanted the pain to stop and the old guy gave you a way to do that. A bad one, but a convincing one coming from somebody you used to know. Am I right?”
Shadow shrugged, then winced when that pulled at his wounds. He removed his mask slowly, his calmer demeanor making Sonic let him do it, and said, “I… am sorry. For you. For… everything.”
“I believe you.” Tom nodded. “And I forgive you.”
“Why?” Shadow asked, then coughed harshly. Sonic took his hand and pressed the mask back to his mouth. He struggled to take it off again, fighting Sonic to do so and failing utterly, and continued with his voice muffled, “I should… shouldn… should, not be for-” He coughed again and it cut off all attempts to speak.
Tom let him catch his breath, then touched the angry face on the expression chart.
“You hate what you did more than we ever could. And everybody deserves a second chance. Up to you what you do with it, kid.” Tom stood, casually brushed imaginary dust off his pants, and said, “Now, how about you get back to your show? I’m grabbing a shower. We’re all beat, so let’s order-in. Your pick, Sonic.”
“Ooh, Shads, you didn’t get much to eat at a military lab, huh?” Sonic nudged Shadow’s shoulder with his own. Shadow didn’t react. “I’ll show you some menus. We’ll make a list of all the stuff you gotta try when you can eat. Gotta start with chili dogs, obviously.”
Sonic chose a telenovela for them to watch, and Sonic kept up a running commentary of every dramatic twist, helping Shadow follow the action. Maddie lingered in the archway before leaving to help Tom with his sling. Shadow wasn’t watching the show. He was staring down at the floor. And she wondered what was going on inside his head.
Notes:
The most remarkable thing about this chapter is Maddie dictating that list and it didn't get auto corrected into nonsense.
Chapter 3: and all this devotion was rushing out of me
Summary:
Shadow builds a castle.
Notes:
EDIT: cicia pointed out a mistake I made in the comments, so the last ~2,000 words of this chapter have been edited. Thanks for the catch and hope y'all like the new version!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Project Shadow: Personal Log – Dr. Gerald Robotnik
September 4th, 1974
Subject: The Ultimate Lifeform
Today I assumed direction of Project Shadow. The program is fully established under GUN authority, with the Subject held in long-term containment. Initial survey of the facility reveals extensive experimentation carried out prior to my arrival, though documentation is inconsistent. I will make investigating the reason for this a priority.
Maria left during my orientation to explore the base and find her room. She was the first to discover the Subject’s location. The Subject is confined in a vertical suspension tube filled with nutrient solution, apparently the default holding method when testing is not underway. Subject remains fully conscious while submerged. He demonstrated ocular tracking and reactive motion when Maria approached the glass.
I performed an initial assessment of the Subject’s physiological condition; respiration supported by liquid oxygen exchange, cardiovascular output diminished but steady, musculature rigid even under chemical suppression. Multiple signs of healed tissue trauma suggest repeated invasive testing without sufficient recovery intervals.
Maria displayed pronounced distress when I attempted to return the Subject to his suspension tube. She described the Subject as “scared” and requested his immediate removal from the chamber.
Review of current protocols reveals that Subject is treated solely as an experimental resource. No designated quarters, no accommodation beyond suspension. While this method maximizes security and availability for continued study, it disregards the psychological integrity of a sentient test subject. Prolonged deprivation under conscious awareness poses significant risk of cognitive degradation.
Filed recommendation: establishment of private quarters for Subject, furnished minimally with bedding and controlled environment. Justification: long-term preservation of neurological stability, essential to maintain experimental viability. Authorization pending.
-
Maddie slipped the document back into its pocket and laid the folder on the bedside table. She slumped down the headboard until her head met the pillows, and she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyelids. The mattress dipped when Tom joined her, and he hooked an arm around her waist and tugged her in close. She breathed in the scent of clean cotton and his shower gel.
“They kept a kid in a tube,” she muttered into his chest.
“Easier to pretend he’s not a person when he’s behind glass,” Tom replied. “Same way it was easier to be mad at the guy who decked me into next week than the kid sleeping on our couch.”
“No wonder he flinches when I reach for him.” Maddie gripped Tom’s shirt and observed her hands the way Shadow must see them; blue nitrile, the sting of disinfectant, the harsh snap when they seal at the wrist. Her cuticles smelled faintly of chlorhexidine no matter how long she scrubbed. “For so long, the only touch he got was getting poked and prodded and who knows what else. He’s gonna be terrified of me by the end of this.”
Tom tipped her chin up with a knuckle and kissed the tip of her nose. “Hey, no, that’s not true. He knows you’re helping him.”
“I hope he does. He doesn’t understand much right now.”
Shadow wasn’t spitting blood anymore and his breathing steadied into something she could count along with – two seconds in, one second out – but the fog behind his eyes remained. His oxygen supply was occupied with keeping his lungs working and it hadn’t found the route back to his brain yet.
“What if GUN got there first?” she said. She knew what-ifs were pointless, and they were still in her brain, clogging up her thoughts. “What if Tails didn’t catch that transmission or Sonic was ten minutes slower?”
“The helicopter woman that called our kids aliens,” and said it like she’d been spitting out poison, “she’s in charge now.”
“She’d put him back in a tube.” Or worse. And they wouldn’t have even known. They’d have continued with their lives, having no clue Shadow was trapped and alone. She might have had as little sympathy for Shadow as she did for Robotnik and she would’ve been so, so wrong. “I’m glad I didn’t put him in a respiration chamber. I did that right, at least.”
“How are you doing?” Tom checked in gently in the same tone he used with kids separated from their parents.
“I’m scared all the time,” Maddie admitted, and once she started she couldn’t stop. “I’m scared I’m missing something. A symptom that’s about to be a crisis. If he coughs weird, is his lung collapsing? If he’s more confused than normal, does he have brain damage? I keep running disaster scenarios in my head. What if I need to bag him and can’t get the seal over his quills? What if the TPN alarm and the oximeter go off at the same time and I don’t have enough hands to help him? I’m a veterinarian trying to manage space trauma on an alien hedgehog, this is crazy.” She threw her hands out hopelessly, then buried her face in her husband’s shirt, muttering, “I’m scared I’m killing him, Tom.”
“He is getting better,” Tom reassured firmly. He calmly presented evidence, building a case like he did for a jury. “He told you he felt sick today with his chart. You found the culprit and backed off his meds before he got worse. That’s you paying attention and him trusting you enough to speak up. That’s no small feat.” He huffed a laugh, then shifted Maddie slightly so she didn’t press against his aching ribs. “Besides, this isn’t the first time we’ve had a traumatized kid in our house with a three-letter agency breathing down our necks.”
“Speaking of our resident tornado. He’s spiraling. Will you talk to him? My head is so full of Shadow, I don’t know if I can put together any advice for him.”
“Yeah, I noticed it too. He needs a break from watching Shadow breathe. He was still awake and watching when I got up for water at two in the morning. I’ll take him outside, watch him run a few laps around town, then have a talk with him.”
“Sounds good,” she sighed and snuggled for a moment, before pulling away and swinging her legs over the edge of their bed. “I’m gonna see if Shadow can brush his own teeth.” He’d been taking small walks around the living room to prevent pneumonia and bed sores, with spotting from Sonic or Knuckles. He made it all the way to the bathroom door and back, another sign of slow recovery. “I think he’ll feel better with a little autonomy.”
She’d have to keep the oximeter on his finger and remind him to breathe in oxygen between brushing each quarter. And have Sonic help him grip the brush if his fingers failed.
Tom’s palm slid warm across her back before it fell away. “That’s you paying attention again.”
She squeezed his hand, then stood. The hallway was cooler than their bedroom and she tugged her fuzzy robe tighter around herself as her slippers padded against the wood floor. Chamomile scented the air still following Shadow’s bath. She found all four kids in the living room, squished onto the couch and debating if Gladiator was a good pre-bedtime movie. It wasn’t, and she’d tell them to pick something quieter that Shadow could fall asleep during once their teeth were brushed.
Shadow was tucked back under his blankets following a successful tooth-brushing expedition, which required Sonic to steady Shadow’s weight with a hip and shoulder while Knuckles followed behind with the oxygen tank and IV stand. Sonic assigned himself the task of attending to bedtime rituals, securing Shadow at the end of each day with knitted wool and fluffed pillows. He hadn’t slept in his own bed since Shadow’s arrival. They fit fine together on the couch with their heads pillowed at opposite ends. Sonic learned to fall asleep counting the metronomic clicks of the oxygen tank like sheep.
“Comfy?” Sonic asked. Shadow’s eyes were drooping and he slowly chewed a melatonin gummy sticking to his molars. He swallowed, then gave a small nod. “Good. You did awesome today, man.”
“Don’t… patronize me,” Shadow complained, gaze sharpened by annoyance. Sonic was glad to see it. Annoyance was preferable to a vacant glaze.
“Easy, Sandra Bullock, I’m not babying you. You walked yourself to the bathroom three days after your face plant back to Earth, and you didn’t even have a Shenzhou capsule. That’s Oscar bait.”
“… What?”
Sonic gasped, clutching at his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “Oh, buddy, you’ve got so much pop culture to catch up on.” He shook his head sadly. “Forget the movies, my point is you’re incredible, Shads.”
Shadow averted his eyes and angled his ears down, squirming a little like he could wiggle away from his embarrassment. Sonic relented even though he wanted to push, maybe make Shadow blush and glare. There was a line between embarrassment and humiliation he didn’t want to cross, and he wasn’t sure yet where Shadow’s line was. Now wasn’t the time to test it.
Sonic went to his side of the couch and once he was cozy, he brushed Shadow’s feet where they met in the middle. Shadow nudged him back. He wasn’t too annoyed, then.
The house exhaled slow and soft. Tails’ and Knuckles’ thumping in the attic dwindled. Tom and Maddie’s nighttime conversation faded to silence behind their closed bedroom door. Outside, the last of the passing car’s headlights swept thin silver through the part in the curtains, until the only light remaining reflected off the shattered moon. The melatonin dragged Shadow into slumber and his wheezing eased into a slow, steady rhythm.
Sonic let his chest fall into sync with Shadow’s. His shoulders loosening and consciousness unspooling, he started counting clicks.
The heel against his ankle jarred Sonic out of his sink into sleep. The sharp jab ripped a grunt from his throat and made him jackknife up. The clicks were swallowed by a new sound – thin, broken whimpers tangled with half-formed words. Across the couch, Shadow’s head tossed back and forth, threatening to dislodge his mask.
“Shadow?” Sonic called, shaking off his drowsiness. He hopped off the couch to stand at Shadow’s side. Before an alarm could blare, warning of oxygen desaturation, Sonic moved the mask back into place. He tried to soothe Shadow, saying, “Easy, hey-”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. Shadow bolted upright, narrowly avoiding collision with Sonic’s snout thanks to Sonic’s own reflexes. Shadow’s breathing came fast and shallow, ragged pants that threatened to rob him of oxygen despite the mask. His eyes flicked around the room, pupils huge to peer into the dark, failing to focus on anything. He whined and pawed at his eyes, uselessly trying to clear out the blurriness.
“Shadow. You need to calm down.” Sonic remained steady, using the gentle but authoritative tone Stone advised he use if Shadow became disoriented. Shadow ignored him, or might not have heard him at all.
Shadow’s fingerpads brushed the oxygen mask and his chest shuddered. He felt at it, taking in its shape, then slid his hands over the rest of his fur. He found the IV catheter, noticed the cast on his arm. He looked down at himself and let out a raw, guttural sound.
“You’re safe, nobody here is going to hurt you,” Sonic tried again, and again he was ignored.
Fumbling fingers picked at the catheter site. The cast made wearing a glove on his right hand difficult, so his bare claws nicked at his skin, his movements dangerously erratic. Beads of blood spotted his dark fur. Sonic lunged to stop him before he ripped open a vein. He caught Shadow’s wrists, grip firm without grinding the delicate bones against each other. Shadow finally realized the blue shape in the darkness was someone alive, someone touching him.
Sonic glanced at the IV tubing to be sure Shadow hadn’t torn a hole in the plastic. He hadn’t, luckily, and it wasn’t pushing air bubbles into his blood. A disaster averted.
“Who are you?” Shadow asked, speaking through a throat lined with sandpaper. “Where…” he coughed violently, almost gagging. “What is… this place? What did you… do to me?” He tried to pull away from Sonic, thrashed from side to side, but his body didn’t have the strength to back up the effort.
That voice, suspicious and terrified, wasn’t supposed to be aimed at Sonic. His rejection hurt, but the thought that Shadow lost his safe place in the fog hurt worse. Sonic’s instinct was to hold Shadow, comfort him, tell him everything was going to be okay until it was. That was what Sonic needed, not what would help Shadow.
Stone warned them about this. Disorientation so severe it stripped Shadow of context, left him unable to pinpoint time and place. He didn’t know where he was, why he was attached to an IV, why he saw with a film over his vision. A confusion brought on by trauma, brain fog, drugs, or all three. Sonic knew what to do and owed that to Stone. He spoke with gentle authority, reliable and caring at once.
“You’re safe, Shadow. You’re home. The IV and mask are to help you, not hurt you.” He rubbed Shadow’s wrists as he spoke, telling him silently the restraint wasn’t meant to harm. Shadow continued to pull away, his eyes squeezed tight as pathetic defense against the cruelty he was expecting.
“You’re in Green Hills,” Sonic went on, “a town in a state called Montana, and you’re in Tom and Maddie Wachowski’s house.” Sonic guided one hand to lay on the blanket. “Feel the couch under you. Feel the nice, warm blanket. Maddie’s mom knitted it, remember? This isn’t a lab.”
Physicality broke through when words failed. Shadow stopped struggling and ran his hand over the thick knit of the blanket. He gave the room another look. The carpet, the curtains, the archway and the kitchen past the hallway. Blurry to Shadow’s eyes, but certainly not the sterile lab he woke up expecting. He stared at Sonic with wide, crimson- no, his eyes weren’t red anymore, when had that happened? He stared at Sonic with wide, amber eyes as he fished for a memory in the muddy waters of his mind.
“Green… Hills,” he echoed haltingly.
“Yeah, Green Hills. With me.” Sonic transferred Shadow’s hand to his chest where Sonic’s heartbeat rapidly thumped. “Count the beats. Remember this? It helped you focus before.”
Shadow obeyed, shutting his eyes and letting his world narrow down to the thud under his hand. His breathing calmed, his tension eased by fractions. Sonic relaxed alongside him. Everything was okay again.
His voice emerged from the water, raspy, alongside a memory. “I… fell.”
Sonic let go of Shadow’s wrists, his friend now anchored in reality and not needing Sonic to hold him here. “You did. You fell right into my arms and now you’re safe.”
Shadow nodded, remembering. “Green Hills. Montana,” he murmured. Sonic let him reorient at his own pace. He shut his mouth around the flood of questions and reassurances straining against his tongue.
Then Shadow suddenly tipped to the side and Sonic caught him against his chest, holding him, mindful of his bandages. “You okay?” Sonic asked when Shadow offered no explanation. He just laid there, head on Sonic’s chest. Listening to his heart.
“Yes.” Shadow nodded. “Thank you. That was…”
Shadow’s words failed him, like they usually did when too many feelings piled atop one another. His hands drifted blindly over the blanket, the couch back, the pillow, until he found the expression chart balanced on the couch arm. He sagged back into Sonic’s arms with a faint huff, then pointed in sequence; the emoji with its little face turning blue and its mouth open in a silent scream, then the snoozing emoji, then last a ponderous face with a question mark overhead.
“Yeah, I was a bit,” Sonic tapped the frightened face, “myself. Which one feels like you right now?”
Shadow studied the chart, eyes roaming the possibilities. Sonic waited for him to figure it out, amusing himself by poking Shadow’s ears and finding the spots that made them flick. Eventually, he settled a fingertip on a face with its eyes shut in contentment.
Sonic smiled in a similar manner. “Cool, calm, collected. Good for you. Almost makes me forget you tried to headbutt me earlier.”
“I didn’t. Your head was… in the way.” Shadow gave him a rotten look that might have been intimidating if his cheek wasn’t squished into Sonic’s fur.
Shadow searched the chart again, but whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find. Sonic slipped away in a blur to the kitchen and was back before Shadow could fall off the couch when his support vanished. He handed a marker over to Shadow, who was growling low at Sonic’s antics. The rumble in his throat felt good against Sonic’s chest.
He popped the cap off the marker and scribbled a messy doodle on the lamination where the white space at the bottom of the paper left room. Black scribbles took the form of a hedgehog next to the three lines that universally represented a frowning face.
“… Not much of an artist, huh?” Sonic teased lightly. Shadow scribbled a black line of ink on Sonic’s fur in retaliation. Sonic batted him away and smeared the ink off with a glove, which he discarded when his stomach was clean. “So that’s the ‘Sonic is annoying me’ emoji?”
Shadow nodded, looking pleased with himself, and Sonic laughed. He squeezed Shadow’s head into a tight hug and shook with the force of his laughter. The doodle, the grumbling, the fact that Shadow was here and bad at drawing was such a delight. Sonic felt like he was glowing with joy. He’d lost this kind of happiness when Shadow died.
When the laughter subsided, Sonic took the chart and added his own drawing. He was a considerably better artist than Shadow, his lines more confident and his intent clearer. The contrast of their sketches next to each other made Sonic laugh again when he was done. He handed the chart back, and Shadow rolled his eyes at the hedgehog within a heart.
“Scooch a little,” Sonic requested after Shadow set the chart aside.
Shadow did so, letting Sonic shift him and the lines until they found a comfortable position. Shadow had to lay on his back to keep the mask in place, and Sonic laid on his side, tucked up against him. One arm rested over Shadow while the other slid behind his head. His quills were soft now, but if Shadow woke up startled again, Sonic would get stabbed. It would wake him up, though, so it’d be worth it.
That was how Maddie found them when the sun rose. She stood in the archway for a moment, smiled, and let them sleep in a while longer.
“Okay, walk with me here. Elena had a secret third baby, and that baby grew up to be Isabella’s boyfriend, which makes him the father of Sofia’s secret twins? I think?” Sonic tilted his head, eyes narrowed at the screen as a slap fight erupted between two women in glittering gowns. “Man, I dunno. How are there this many secret pregnancies? We’re not talking about hiding a sore throat! Are they holing up in a cave for months? Going on an extended ‘yoga retreat?’”
“Hold… purses,” Shadow rasped, deadpan. His finger slid over his expression chart to land on a face crying tears of laughter.
Tails cackled along with Sonic from where he was sprawled on the floor, only half paying attention to the show. He looked away from the Miles Electric to grin at Shadow. “They carry a purse in front of them for nine months?”
“Yeah, totally! First trimester is a cute clutch, second is a tote bag, and by the third trimester they’re lugging around a beach bag,” Sonic added delightedly.
The corner of Shadow’s mouth twitched into a smile which was followed by a low, warm laugh. He coughed through it, and Sonic watched for blood to speckle the inside of his mask. No red mist colored the plastic, and Sonic let himself ease back. He shifted deliberately so their legs, pressed together under their shared blanket, rubbed comfortingly. A silent approval of his laughter, an assurance he didn’t have to hide his little moments of happiness. Shadow leaned into Sonic, shoulder to shoulder with their quills tickling lightly.
The front door opened and clicked shut. The floorboards strained under Knuckles’ heavy footfalls. He walked in with the straight-backed high-shouldered formality of a soldier returning from the field, having been on his daily patrol for signs of GUN. He didn’t raise the alarm, and Sonic was grateful for another day without GUN agents bearing down on them. Yet.
Knuckles caught sight of the television and narrowed his eyes, watching Sofia rake at Isabella’s face with acrylic nails. The studio audience gasped at the escalation.
“Why do they strike with open hands?” he asked. “If these warriors are enemies, why not challenge each other with fists or blades?”
“Because they’d get blood on the gowns, Knux,” Sonic answered without missing a beat. “Sparkles and gore don’t mix.”
Knuckles rumbled thoughtfully, giving this deep consideration as he found a place to sit next to Tails. Shadow commented after he settled, “It’s an… interes… ting.” Shadow paused to breathe in. “Aes… thetic.”
Sonic’s imagination supplied the image instantly; Shadow draped in crimson satin and rocking a pair of wickedly sharp stiletto heels. His glittering red dress exposing his leg with a long slit and a plunging back displaying the strong lines of his shoulders, the arch of his spine. A deadly smile curving his lips while he kicked some faceless GUN soldier’s teeth in.
His cheeks heated, and Sonic hid it with a casual grin. “You know what, you’re totally right. Forget I said anything.”
Isabella and Sofia swung their purses like medieval maces, and Tails cringed with an ‘ooh, yikes,’ when Sofia was struck across the face with a heavy golden buckle. Knuckles studied the move with academic seriousness.
“A purse is a surprisingly efficient weapon,” he declared.
“And they’re great for hiding pregnancies,” Sonic added wryly, enjoying Knuckles’ confused glance and earning a muffled huff from Shadow. “Sofia is winning,” he added helpfully.
Shadow leaned toward the television, trying to track the blur of sequins and flashing jewelry. His vision was improving, but rapid movement became a mess of color and lights. His brow was furrowed adorably in concentration, fully invested in the drama. This was another thing to be grateful to Stone for – the password to his Spanish language streaming service. Though explaining what a streaming service was to Shadow proved an exercise in futility, and a conversation saved for when Shadow was better.
From the hallway came a tread softer than Knuckles’ and a scent of wood and cotton. Sonic’s ears swiveled toward the sound before turning his head. Tom stood in the archway, haloed in the afternoon glow from the open windows. He took in the scene; all kids accounted for, Shadow awake and alert, glittery carnage on the television. His eyes met Sonic’s and he spoke quietly to not disturb the peaceful living room ecosystem.
“Hey, Sonic,” he said. “Can we talk outside?”
Sonic’s spine went rigid. His quills bristled like Tom’s gentle suggestion was a threat. Shadow, who failed to notice their newcomer, sensed the change and looked at him. He spotted Tom and sat ramrod straight on the couch, hands clenching his blanket. His eyes, with pupils blown out, glanced consideringly towards the expression chart laid over the couch’s arm.
“… Go,” he said after a pause. “I’m fine.” The last word sounded like a shard of glass dragged up out of his throat. He coughed on it, tension in his chest restricting his breathing.
The lie was obvious. Shadow refusing to use the chart was the giveaway. He never used it to deceive them. The expression chart had been a gift from Maria, a way for him to sort through the most confusing of his feelings, a way to tell the scientists to stop. That memory was too precious for him to taint with a lie.
“Are you sure?” Sonic asked dubiously, giving Shadow a chance to be truthful, hoping he would be.
Shadow gravitated into Sonic’s touch like he couldn’t help himself, leaning forward and shifting his leg a little to feel the friction. “Already… a burden. Won’t deny you… time with… your father.”
“C’mon, don’t say that. Without you, I never would have discovered the joys of Spanish daytime TV.” Sonic grinned crookedly.
There were so many more reasons for Shadow to feel like he was burdening them, and most of them began with a capital G. Sonic hoped making it seem like their biggest problem was an overwhelming binge-watching backlog would help Shadow lighten up. Things were better in the bright space Sonic was trying to build for them.
“I appreciate you being considerate of me and Sonic, but you’re not a burden, Shadow,” Tom added, correcting him gently. That was a tactic recommended by Maddie. To validate Shadow’s feelings without making him feel bad for having them. “If you really need Sonic to stay, he can stay. We can talk later. No big deal.”
“Go,” Shadow insisted, the word quick like he was spitting it out before it could poison him. Shadow’s body language betrayed him. He lifted a hand to reach out to Sonic, then caught himself and made it drop back to the blanket.
“I will stand guard,” Knuckles promised, rising to his full height and firming up his shoulders. His voice was firm with solemn conviction. “No one shall harm him while you speak with the Lord of Donuts.”
“… Fine,” Sonic relented, unhappy but running out of reasons to stay. He pet Shadow between his ears, smoothed down his quills, then hopped off the couch. His hand lingered on Shadow’s face as he pulled away. “I’m holding you to that, Knux.”
Sonic slipped on his shoes before Tom led him outside. Sonic expected them to stop at the porch. Instead, they proceeded down the driveway to the sidewalk, bits of gravel left behind by cars traveling over dirt roads crunching underfoot. The air was cool and smelled like grass dotted with fresh snow. Winter was mild Green Hills. Sonic wouldn’t mind giving snowboarding a real try sometime, when he’s not being chased down a mountain by an angry echidna and mad scientist. He could bring Shadow along and race him down the slopes.
Tom gestured to the open road with his good hand and said, “You should go for a run. Breathe in some fresh air, stretch your legs. You’ve been cooped up for days.”
The suggestion tugged at Sonic’s heart. He hadn’t gone for a run in three days, practically an eternity, or what felt like it. He looked to the road and all the adventure and freedom it promised. Then he looked back at the house and saw Shadow’s quills peeking out over the back of the couch, visible through the open living room window. Knuckles had taken Sonic’s place, but they weren’t cuddling like Shadow did with him. He wasn’t as comfortable with Knuckles and Tails, what if he got upset?
“I shouldn’t leave Shadow for too long,” he weakly protested, yet his calves were flexing on instinct like a racecar revving at a red light.
“Shadow is alright with Knuckles and Tails,” Tom insisted. “Long enough for a quick run to California and back.”
“It’s not fair,” Sonic muttered. His gut was asking him why he was hesitating while his heart longed to go back inside and be with Shadow. “I shouldn’t do stuff Shadow can’t.”
Tom smiled sympathetically. “Not doing the things Shadow can’t right now doesn’t help him. It’ll make him feel bad for slowing you down. He told you to go because he knows you need it.”
Sonic felt wretchedly selfish for wanting this. Giving in felt wrong. Still, with the landscape blurring past him and the wind in his face, he couldn’t stop his elation. Tom was right, he’d been going stir crazy stuck at home. He didn’t resent Shadow for it, he’d never resent Shadow for needing him.
But he’d missed this so much.
Sonic took Tom’s recommendation to heart. The cold turned San Francisco’s fog into a sheet of ice. It reminded Sonic of the day he found Shadow, but the sting was bracing this time, not painful. The exertion raised his body heat until the cold didn’t bother him. He raced through the city, reliving his early encounter with Egghead sans the missiles firing at his back. He whooped and cheered, leaving the sound of his own voice far behind him. His heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings and he wondered if Shadow could still count them like this.
He was breathing hard by the time he returned home. He didn’t run for long, only looping through the nostalgically familiar streets of San Fran a few times before heading back. A smile wide enough to make his muzzle ache split his face.
Shadow hadn’t moved. Neither had Knuckles, and Tails was surely still posted on the floor where Sonic left him. Shadow was fine. Whatever dire consequences Sonic’s imagination tried stirring up never came to pass.
“Welcome back,” Tom greeted. “Pull up a chair,” he invited, gesturing to the edge of the sidewalk he was seated on. “Good run?”
“I tried to take a selfie and Karl photobombed me. Guess he’s skipping dry January.” Sonic vigorously shook out his fur of accumulated moisture the San Fran fog doused him in before sitting.
“Karl’s on tap year-round,” Tom commented, shaking off the sleeve he used to protect himself from a second shower.
“Watching Shadow with his chart has me inspired,” Tom began casually. “I got to thinking that you might have some emojis you want to express, bud. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Sonic brushed the question off before it could wriggle its way into his gut. “A-plus with extra credit fine!”
“Uh-huh,” Tom said with the cadence of someone humoring a kid who insisted he didn’t eat the last cookie with crumbs all over his face. “And how are you really?”
Tom was smothering the warmth glowing in Sonic’s chest following his run, and Sonic wanted to stick a hand through his ribs to hold onto it. “What’s with the psychoanalysis, doc? Shadow’s the one with his brain leaking out of his ears. Compared to that, I’m doing just peachy.”
“And how are you when you’re not grading yourself on a ‘crashed-from-orbit’ curve?” Tom kept pushing, why was he pushing this? Sonic would be fine as long as he smothered the part of him that wasn’t, and it would go away when Shadow was better.
“Still good,” Sonic insisted. He tapped his foot impatiently against the pavement. “I should get back inside. Shadow needs his daily cuddle quota met.”
“Sonic.” Tom sounded disappointed and Sonic didn’t know what he’d done wrong. “It’s okay not to be okay. You haven’t been fine since Shadow died. We’ve tried to give you space to process your feelings, but that’s clearly not working. Talk to me, buddy. What’s speeding through that mile-a-minute mind of yours?”
“Look, I…” Sonic hesitated. Giving a voice to thing he’d smothered and stowed under his bed made it stir. It would dig its way out from behind his ribs if he let it. “It sucked when Shadow… you know. Not actually died. Really sucked. And seeing him hurt this bad is freaking me out. Who wouldn’t be freaked out? That’s it, really. I’m handling it.”
“Pretending the feelings aren’t there doesn’t make them go away.” Tom sent a precision strike at the floorboards under the bed. The thing thrashed and clawed at the cracks, trying to get loose. “It’ll just keep building up until you can’t take it anymore.”
That wasn’t true. Sonic didn’t need to let the monster loose on anyone. They all needed to focus on Shadow. And it would go away when Shadow was better, he was sure of it. He just needed to live with the monster under his bed for a while longer.
“I’m good, dad. Thanks for the pep talk!” Sonic sprang to his feet and Tom started to voice his protest, which Sonic interrupted. “I’ve got a patient who’s wondering where his cuddle buddy is, so I gotta get inside.”
He didn’t wait for Tom’s reply. He sped back into the house where Shadow remained on the couch and was resisting sleep. He sagged onto Sonic’s shoulder when he took Knuckles’ place and shut his eyes, still unable to stay awake for more than a few hours. Sonic let him sleep where he felt safe.
The early morning brought a visitor bearing gifts to the Wachowski door.
“Resupply,” Stone announced as walked inside without waiting for a formal invitation. He wouldn’t get one. Maddie didn’t want to give him the impression he was welcome.
In one hand, he carried a duffel with the plastic edges of IV bags poking out, too full for the zipper to fully close. In the other was a second bag that rattled with metal against metal. On the couch, Shadow shifted against his pillows at the noise. He lifted his head enough to nod slightly to Stone before falling back, eyelids drooping.
“Hey, kid,” Stone greeted warmly like they were old friends and not… whatever they were. Former colleagues? Co-reformed villains? “You look tired.”
Shadow shut his eyes and nodded again, drifting off once he knew what disturbed him wasn’t a threat. Sonic, at Shadow’s side like always, patted his leg over the blanket.
“He’s having nightmares,” Maddie explained. “He hasn’t slept well for two nights.”
Stone set the medicine bag on the table and handed the other to Tails, who peered into it curiously. Tails’ face lit up with elation when he saw the contents and began digging an arm around inside.
“Thought you’d get more use out of this stuff than I do,” Stone explained as Tails revealed a small drone in his hand. He turned it this way and that, the other hand twitching with want for a screwdriver or a drill.
“Is that Robotnik’s tech?” Sonic asked, his tone somewhere between suspicion and disgust. Stone nodded.
“Check it for tracking devices, Tails,” Maddie recommended. She eyed the med bag suspiciously, now that she had such things on her mind. “And bombs.”
“No need!” Tails chirped, a beaming smile on his face. “I installed a scanner over the door. If anything dangerous came through, we’d know right away.”
Maddie pinched the bridge of her nose. She appreciated Tails’ efforts to keep their family safe and upgrade their home, really, she did. She just wished he would tell her first.
Stone stepped outside, returning a moment later with a new supply of oxygen tanks. He carried them straight to the coat closet as though it were his own storage. Maddie’s jaw tightened. He was getting too comfortable here.
“With these servo gears and emitter housings, I can make an imaging unit with x-ray and ultrasound functions!” Tails enthused. “We won’t need to bring Shadow back to the clinic, we can check him out right here!”
Shadow heard his name and tilted his head towards Tails, blinking dazedly. His sleeplessness concerned Maddie enough she’d been considering a trip to the clinic. His blood pressure ran low that morning, though the rest of his vitals remained steady. She didn’t think his condition had backslid too much, but she’d feel better if she could check.
“That’d be great, Tails,” Maddie said. If they could check on Shadow without taking him out of the environment he felt safe in, that would be ideal. Tails glowed with the approval and dashed outside, bag in hand, to head towards the shed that doubled as his workshop.
“How’s our guy holding up?” Stone asked after shutting the closet door. Maddie’s irritation grew. The implication of their shared custody of Shadow grated, mostly because it was too close to being true. She couldn’t ignore that he’d been instrumental in keeping Shadow alive. “You said he’s having nightmares?”
“Yeah, he’s a little out of it today,” she said evenly for Shadow’s sake. “Sonic said he hasn’t been sleeping well, even with the melatonin.”
Sonic picked up the explanation. “It takes a long time to get back to sleep after. It happens a couple times a night for the last two nights.” His thumb rubbed circles on Shadow’s knee.
“Could be trauma or the melatonin backfiring.” Stone chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Hey, kiddo, can I ask you something?”
Shadow watched Stone crouch down to his level, then nodded.
“What kind of dreams are you having? Is it bad memories or crazy nonsense stuff, like being chased by a monster that somehow looks like both your parents and also the concept of time?”
“That’s specific,” Sonic muttered.
“Bad memories,” Shadow answered quietly.
Stone’s expression gentled. “I’m sorry about that, kid. I know it’s rough when that kind of thing gets to you and you can’t fight it off. Let me talk to Maddie and maybe we can find a solution.”
Shadow gave another small nod and Stone stood up. Maddie crossed her arms and waited for his verdict. The irritation ebbed ever-so-slightly for him consulting with her. It was more respect than she expected from him.
“Nightmares and sleeplessness are textbook responses to trauma," Stone began. "Astronauts exposed to a vacuum report having trouble sleeping and nightmares. This could be physical or psychological. Or both. We need to watch out for mood swings, too. Big shifts between anger and depression. Only drug I know that might help is a benzo but that plus opiates can cause respiratory depression.”
That was far too dangerous a risk. Shadow’s respiration was already compromised. “We need to get a look at his organs to see if we can take him off the morphine, then maybe we can add a benzo.”
Again, Maddie chose not to ask where Stone would get a benzodiazepine without going through proper channels. It wasn’t like she could go to the pharmacy and get a prescription for the alien hedgehog in her care. She’d have to donate her paycheck to a children’s hospital for the rest of her life to make up for whatever nefarious deeds Stone was committing.
“There’s one more thing that might help,” Stone continued. “How many of the files have you read? Specifically, the one from September 18th.”
Maddie pondered how many times Stone must have read through that folder if he knew the dates and contents of specific files. “I haven’t gotten past September 4th. Why?”
“”Cause Maria was full of good ideas.” Stone turned towards Shadow, crouching low again, voice soft like he was letting Shadow in on a secret. “Hey, kiddo. How do you feel about blanket forts?”
Her curiosity was piqued, Maddie had to admit. While Sonic retrieved a bounty of blankets from a hall closet and Stone deconstructed their camping supplies, Maddie stole away to the bedroom and found the file Stone referenced.
-
Project Shadow: Personal Log – Dr. Gerald Robotnik
September 18th, 1974
Subject: The Ultimate Lifeform
Two weeks following establishment of private quarters, I have observed an unexpected behavioral development regarding the Subject’s sleeping habits. Although quarters were outfitted with standard bedding, the Subject has refused to utilize the provided cot past the second night since quarters were established. Instead, he consistently curls himself into a compact ball within a structure of blankets and pillows constructed jointly in Maria’s quarters.
Despite multiple encouragements to adopt the provided cot, the Subject displays marked resistance. This is the first occurrence I have observed of outright defiance towards lab staff. Observation suggests heightened comfort within the enclosed fabric; respiration slows, muscular tension decreases, and Subject initiates sleep onset more rapidly than when placed on a bed. Maria often joins him inside the structure, reading aloud until he achieves stable rest cycles.
Subject invariably curls tightly into a ball when sleeping, spine curved and limbs tucked inward. The posture is reminiscent of Erinaceinae who adopt similar positions for protection and thermoregulation. Given the Subject’s morphological similarity to said species, this behavior may represent a subconscious alignment with his apparent phylogenetic analogues.
I cannot dismiss the fort’s efficacy. Sleep duration has increased by an average 37 minutes per cycle with fewer interruptions due to startle reflex. Cortisol measurements remain elevated overall, but marginally lower following fort usage.
Maria insists the Subject ‘likes cozy spaces.’ While this phrasing lacks academic formality, evidence supports her conclusion.
Personal addendum: this is an absurd arrangement and unbecoming of this facility. Nevertheless, the sight of the Subject curled up inside a fort made from a blanket patterned with rabbits is alarmingly endearing.
I am permitting continuation of this behavior. Improved sleep quality enhances neurological stability and long-term viability of experimentation.
-
Soon, Shadow was engulfed in a canopy of blankets draped from the curtain rods and supported from below by tent poles. The makeshift fortress blocked the view out the window and left the room in cheerful disarray. Maddie returned to the living room partway through its construction and watched it go up, shushing the part of herself that liked a neat home. And thinking of the little ball of fur and quills that found peaceful slumber under a bunny-printed blanket. Ducking under the blankets to check the IV bags and TPN monitor was going to be a little frustrating, and Maddie didn’t care at all. If Shadow wanted a fort, then damn it, he’d get one.
Tom returned from his brief check-in at the station as the third tent pole was getting propped up by a stack of books. Shadow was too entranced by his fort to be unnerved by Tom's arrival. Tom didn’t linger long enough to upset him. He disappeared upstairs, craving a long shower and maybe a nap. The Wachowskis loved Wade, but dealing with his attempts at leadership while Tom was away could be exhausting.
Sonic avoided looking at his father, giving only a backwards wave and keeping his focus on constructing the fort. Maddie knew it wasn't anger or embarrassment over their talk. It was because Tom saw too much of him.
With time, they'd get through to him. For all Sonic's speed, he was slow to look within himself.
Once the cocoon of fabric was complete, shielding the couch from intruders upon his little world, Shadow's quiet voice spoke from within. “Do you have… fairy lights?”
“You bet we do!” Sonic’s smile split his muzzle. He blurred out of the room and back again in half a second, arms full of tangled cords. He’d retrieved them from the attic, taking away from his own room to give to Shadow.
The string of lights twinkled within the castle walls, casting warm constellations against the fabric. Sonic stuck a few stickers he found in a kitchen junk drawer around haphazardly. Cartoon dinosaurs didn’t suit Shadow’s aesthetic, but Shadow didn’t complain. Quite the opposite – he showed Sonic something on his expression chart that made Sonic smile ever brighter.
“See? I knew you’d get some use out of my art,” he said. Maddie didn’t pry into that. It seemed something private between the two of them.
“Hedgehogs like their hidey-holes, right?” Stone mused. “Does this make you feel a little safer, kid?”
Maddie didn’t see how Shadow responded, hidden behind blankets as he was, but she did see how wide it made Stone smile. She had her misgivings about him. But so long as Shadow wanted him here, here he would be.
By midmorning, Tails had cobbled together a multi-purpose medical scanner. Shadow stepped out of his sanctuary, bringing a pillow with him for comfort as he laid on the coffee table. Sonic hovered nearby within Shadow’s line of sight, but giving Maddie and Tails room to work. Stone lingered as well, and Maddie didn’t have the heart to kick him out when Shadow seemed to enjoy his company.
“Get through this and we can find out if Isabella and Ernesto are getting married again,” Sonic promised with a cheerful thumbs-up.
“She can… do better,” Shadow huffed, as annoyed by Isabella’s fictional poor taste in men as he was by Sonic’s pestering.
“She really can,” Stone voiced his agreement. “I mean Alejandro is right there. What a dreamboat he is.”
Shadow’s emphatic agreement distracted him from the x-ray emitter Tails was moving over his arm. Bright blue bone illuminated the scanner’s black screen. Maddie examined it closely to study it, nodding approvingly.
“Bone density looks better, alignment is solid. If you’re careful with it, I think we can ditch the cast. How does that sound, Shadow?”
Shadow nodded. “Itchy,” he complained shortly.
“I hear you,” Maddie said with a light chuckle. “Tails, the oscillating saw?”
“Oscillating saw,” Tails repeated dutifully, handing over said tool. Shadow‘s ears flicked back at the harsh whine it made. After reading the old files and all they suggested about his treatment, Maddie dreaded to think of what memory was brought to mind.
“This won’t hurt you,” she said, showing she was good for her word by pressing the saw to the skin of her own bare forearm. Shadow flinched, then stared when the saw didn’t draw out any blood. “See? It’ll just cut the plaster and not you.”
Shadow inclined his head in consent for Maddie to proceed. The cast came off cleanly and Shadow immediately scarcthed his arm, then scowled at the oil accumulated on his fur. “I want a bath,” he grumbled.
“Dude, I think that was the first full sentence you’ve said without gasping,” Sonic chimed in from the sidelines. “And it’s ‘I want a bath.’ Not the most iconic thing you could have said.”
Shadow threw a pillow at him using his newly freed arm.
“I just said to take it easy,” Maddie scolded. Shadow looked contrite while Sonic squawked about the real issue being Shadow’s pillow-based assault. “You can have a bath as soon as we’re done. We need to get a look at your heart and lungs.”
Tails swapped out the emitter for the ultrasound probe, toggling the screen from bone to soft tissue. He warmed the tube of gel between his hands while Maddie shaved off a patch of Shadow’s fur.
“Some day, I’m going to stick my face in that fluff…” Sonic said mournfully, watching another meager tuft of what little fur had grown back drift to the floor.
Shadow rolled his eyes. “Who says… I’ll let you?”
“You’ll let me,” Sonic replied, smirking. Shadow let out a puff of air that sounded close to a laugh.
The warmth of the moment dissipated as Maddie slid the wand across Shadow’s ribs. On the monitor, his lungs appeared as a pair of small silhouettes mottled with discoloration. Maddie’s hopes that were bolstered by Shadow’s mended arm were swiftly crushed by what she was seeing now.
“Bronchioles look better,” she began with the good news first. She traced a finger on the screen to direct Stone’s and Tails’ attention. “Alveoli not so much. They’re still collapsed here. Lots of scarring, thickened pleura. Fluid layering and consolidation, too.”
“His temperature has been steady at 100.8,” Tails said, reading his careful documentation of every vitals check they’d done. “We assumed that’s his baseline because he doesn’t feel feverish. We might have been wrong about that.”
“He’s got infection in his lungs,” Stone concluded. He pointed to where the open bandages exposed the wounds on Shadow’s chest. They were producing meager dribbles of yellow pus from between ragged edges of skin. “And his cuts aren’t clearing up.”
Maddie exchanged a glance with him, saying tightly, “Broad-spectrum antibiotics aren’t working. I read about superbugs that can survive in a vacuum. If he picked up something like that out in space, throwing darts at a wall isn’t going to work. We need a target.”
“So we culture his lungs?” Stone asked. “The cafe has the equipment for that.”
Maddie bristled, her hackles going up. “The clinic has an incubator. I can do it myself.”
Stone gave her a sideways smile that oozed condescension. She wondered if he picked it up from Robotnik or if he was an ass all on his own. “Does your adorable little vet clinic have a mass spectrometer? I doubt it.”
Maddie’s grip on the ultrasound wand went tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She nearly hurled it at him before she was restrained by Shadow’s quiet voice. “Stone,” he rasped. “This is… her home.”
The rebuke hit Stone and his first instinct might have been to snap back, defend himself. His shoulders went tight, his smile turned down into a scowl. Then he took a long look at who he would be snapping at. Shadow, laid out on a coffee table with split skin and lungs drowning in bacteria. His shoulders drooped.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wachowski. Shadow is right. This your home and he’s your patient, not mine. I understand if you don’t trust me to run any tests. We’ll do things however you want.”
The fight drained out of Maddie, too. Her pride had no place here, she had to do what was best for Shadow. “We’ll use your equipment,” she allowed, “but Tails runs the test.”
Tails’ head shot up from his hunch over the Miles Electric, looking eager to help. “Of course! I’m assuming your mass spectrometer’s got MALDI-TOF, right?” At Stone’s nod, Tails continued. “That’s perfect, we’ll squash this bug in no time, Shadow!”
“… Okay?” Shadow had clearly lost the thread of conversation amidst the techno-jargon. Sonic was equally lost and they exchanged commiserating looks.
“Just smile and nod when Tails talks, Shads,” Sonic commented. Tails gave him a look of mixed reproach and amusement.
“It’s okay, I can explain,” Tails began. Maddie raised a hand.
“We’d love to hear about it later, honey. Right now, we need to stay focused.” She glanced down at Shadow, and Tails nodded.
Maddie, feeling steadier, said, “Normally, I’d suggest bronchoscopy, but he desats the second we take him off oxygen. Putting a scope down his throat would strangle out what little breathing room he has.”
Stone pointed to the monitor. “That consolidation is right up against the chest wall. We could do a biopsy, go in through the side, get fluid directly.”
“That’s the safer choice,” Maddie agreed. “Shadow, did you hear that? Are you alright with us doing a biopsy of your lungs?”
“Biopsy?” Shadow wheezed.
“It means inserting a needle into your lungs to take a sample of what’s making you sick. The ultrasound will help show us where the needle goes. It’ll be quick and easy with only a little bit of pain.”
“Oh,” Shadow sighed softly. Maddie wasn’t sure if she should interpret it as relief or resignation. “I’ve done that… before.”
Maddie felt a chill. Tails continued to tap at his device, Sonic smiled with relief at Shadow’s familiarity with the process. Stone, however, shared her reaction. He went still and the corners of his lips tightened, hinting at grinding teeth.
When Maddie read the old journals, she did her best to focus on the good in them. The moments of happiness hidden behind the clinical jargon, the care the Robotniks had for Shadow, the things that could help Maddie care for him now. She wasn’t ignorant of the other implications. Suggestions of what Shadow’s life had been like before Gerald took charge of him.
He knew what a biopsy was without knowing its name. They’d stuck him with needles, took samples from his insides, and never told him what was being done to him. She was angry enough to throw the ultrasound wand at something again, but she had no target. Just the phantoms of faceless scientists.
She swallowed heavily and asked, “Are you okay with this, Shadow? I believe this is the best way for us to help you.”
Shadow nodded, and Maddie was unsure if she could trust his consent wasn’t compliance. Still, this had to happen, and they had the only go-ahead they would get.
“There’s a biopsy needle with the bags I gave you in the first round of meds,” Stone explained.
He crossed the room to the coat closet, then returned with a long sterile pack in hand. Kneeling beside Maddie, he peeled away the plastic covering. The needle gleamed cold despite the warm glow spilling through the blanket fort.
“I’ll do the biopsy,” Maddie said. “Hold the wand.”
Stone took the ultrasound probe from her, re-positioning it when the image jolted slightly during transfer. Maddie counted Shadow’s ribs, gauging where to plunge the needle to get the best angle, aiming for the consolidation close to his chest wall.
“Do you want Sonic to hold your hand?” she asked when she found the right spot. Thankfully, she didn’t need to pierce through one of his sunburns. The angry, peeling skin was fading back into his natural skin tone. They weren't completely healed, however, and the skin remained sensitive.
“Yes,” Shadow answered with no hesitation. Sonic closed the distance between them in a blink.
“I’ve got you, Shads. Squeeze as hard as you want. Right now, I’ll barely feel it,” he teased lightly. Shadow’s eye roll was accompanied by a faint smile this time.
Maddie swabbed Shadow’s side with antiseptic, the smell sharp enough to cut the air. She warned, “Sharp pain, honey, only for a moment,” before injecting local anesthetic. A hiss rattled Shadow’s throat.
“You’re good, Shads, you’re doing great,” Sonic comforted.
“You might feel like you need to cough, but I need you to hold very still, Shadow.”
Maddie pushed the biopsy needle in past skin and muscle, watching its progress into Shadow’s body on the ultrasound monitor, her hands steady. Shadow sucked in a hard breath when the needle found his lung. Sonic kept him still with a hand on his shoulder and murmured, “I’ve got you. It’s almost done. You’ve actually got a good grip on me. You’re getting stronger, that’s great. Wish we found that out before I told you to crush my hand.”
The syringe filled with cloudy liquid. “Tell me when there’s enough for the MALDI-TOF.”
Stone’s eyes darted between the ultrasound monitor and the syringe. “That’s good,” he said after a few moments. “Pull back.”
Maddie withdrew the needle, and Stone quickly dropped the wand to press gauze to the small puncture. Shadow exhaled and a shudder passed through his whole body. As much as she wished for him to not be in pain, he was showing her when he was hurting now. That was good. That was progress.
She popped off the needle, and for want of better sharps disposal, did the best she could by wrapping it in spare gauze and stowing it in a plastic bag. She sealed the vial of liquid and handed it to Tails, who said, “We should get this cultured right away.”
“Agreed, fox,” Stone added, standing.
“You did great,” Sonic assured warmly while stroking Shadow’s quills. “And you only broke my hand a little. Solid work, team.”
Tails and Stone left together, a buzzing drone floating behind them on Maddie’s request. She was mostly sure Stone didn’t mean Tails any harm. Mostly. She wasn’t gambling her son’s safety on ‘mostly,’ so she told him to bring along a way to defend himself.
Maddie briefly checked Shadow’s heart on the ultrasound. Still undersized and beating steadily. His blood pressure had been consistent, if weak, for days. He needed exercise that got his heart rate up to strengthen it, needed to work it like any other muscle. For now, it pumped his blood through his body well enough. She wouldn’t push him into straining his lungs.
Switching off the wand, she instead grasped Shadow's hand Sonic wasn't holding. “All those big words we were throwing around mean you’re still sick and you need more medicine and rest. But you are getting better, Shadow. Give it a little more time. We can focus on fixing these lungs up, then you can get back on your feet and moving.”
“The nightmares?” he asked tentatively.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. We can’t give you anything for them.” Shadow looked confused and a little hurt from her refusal to help him. Maddie's chest pinched painfully. “We would have to take you off the morphine, and you would be in a lot of pain if we did that.”
“You have your fort now,” Sonic added, gesturing behind him at the blankets. “Your hidey-hole. That’ll make you feel safer at night and keep the bad dreams away. And you’ve got me.”
Shadow didn’t look like he believed them. At least he wasn’t looking at her like she’d betrayed him.
Sonic agreed to help Shadow in the bath, to clean him up without distressing his wounds and make sure he didn’t pass out and drown in the water. Maddie promised to redress his bandages after he was warmed up and clean.
She wiped the table down with disinfectant until the surface gleamed, even though she knew she'd never set a cup of coffee on its glass surface again. The memory of yellow pus smeared on it turned her stomach. Maybe it was best to replace it entirely. She preferred thinking about a trip to the furniture store over her gnawing anxieties. She wasn’t qualified for this. Stone, for all his smugness, wasn’t qualified for this.
Her thoughts, both benign and anxious, were disrupted by Knuckles bursting in through the front door. The family photos on the wall rattled, and Maddie seriously considered moving them if her kids were going to keep throwing the door open.
“Mother, danger approaches,” Knuckles announced firmly. His entire countenance screamed battle-ready tension. His spiked gloves were straining over his clenched fists. His chest was heaving from the exertion of running at full speed to deliver his warning.
Maddie’s hand paused on the table's surface. The cloth scrunched in her hand. “What danger?” she asked grimly, already knowing the answer.
“A procession of GUN vehicles approaches Green Hills.”
Notes:
Sorry this chapter took so long ;-; My mom had surgery and I've been helping her out while she recovered. She bought me a Shadow squishmallow to thank me ^^ Happy birthday to linkfun03!
Also, Karl is the name of San Fran's fog.
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