Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The tranquil forest hummed with the soft whisper of wind through the ancient trees, their leaves dancing lightly in the breeze. Longclaw, the wise and protective owl, guided Sonic through the dense foliage. Her heart pounded with urgency, every beat echoing the desperation of their flight. Sonic’s young, blue form shook violently in her talons, his small body struggling to comprehend the turmoil that had shattered their peaceful life.

"Longclaw, what’s happening?" Sonic's voice trembled, his wide, innocent eyes filled with confusion and fear. He glanced up behind them, catching fleeting glimpses of the Echidna warriors’ red fur and determined faces through the trees.

"No time to explain, Sonic! Just hold on!" Longclaw urged, her tone gentle yet firm. She tried to mask the fear in her own heart, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

They burst into a clearing, where the landscape opened to reveal a beautiful sanctuary, a hidden haven they had visited many times before. Under different circumstances, Sonic might have marveled at the serene beauty of the place, but now, the sanctuary was overshadowed by the relentless pursuit. Just as Longclaw was about to search for immediate threats, a sharp pain hit her side. She knew this moment was inevitable, but she only hoped the harsh impact they had made with the ground hadn’t hurt her boy.

Longclaw hissed in pain as she unwrapped her wings from around Sonic, cradling him carefully to ensure he was unharmed. She quickly caught sight of the warriors in steep pursuit, their fierce expressions a stark contrast to the natural beauty around them. She breathed in deeply, mourning the loss of the life they could have had, a peaceful life that now seemed like a distant dream.

"Sonic," she began, her voice softer now, tinged with a mother’s love and sorrow. "You must take this ring and go. It will lead you to another world, far away from here."

Sonic's eyes filled with tears, his young mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "But I can’t leave you, Longclaw! You’re all I have!"

Longclaw knelt, bringing her face level with Sonic’s. She placed a gentle wing on his cheek, wiping away the tears with the utmost care. "You must be brave, my little one. The world needs you safe, even if it means we must part."

The roar of pursuit grew louder, the Echidna warriors closing in. Longclaw stood tall, her resolve steeling like a fortress around her heart. She handed Sonic the ring, her eyes locking onto his with fierce determination.

"Remember everything I have taught you and never stop running," she said, her voice firm despite the tears glistening in her eyes. With a final, loving gaze, she pushed him toward the portal the ring had opened.

Sonic hesitated for just a moment, his heart aching with a pain he had never known. But he saw the unwavering resolve in Longclaw’s eyes, and it gave him the strength to step into the glowing portal. As he turned around, however, he couldn’t help but run desperately to her, wishing she’d take him into her wings again.

As the ring slowly closed, Longclaw felt reassured that it would close in time to keep Sonic safe. "Goodbye, Sonic," she whispered, turning to face the oncoming threat. She spread her wings wide, a guardian ready to lay down her life for the one she loved most. The clearing echoed with the sounds of battle, but in her heart, Longclaw held onto the hope that Sonic would find safety and one day, peace.

As Sonic watched the portal close behind him, his heart felt like it was being torn apart. The emptiness that followed Longclaw’s sacrifice left a gaping void in his chest, and tears streamed down his cheeks. The unfamiliar world he found himself in was dark and unwelcoming, and the forest seemed to close in around him, its shadows growing longer and more menacing.

On the first day, Sonic wandered aimlessly, his legs trembling with exhaustion and fear. The dense forest offered little solace, and the harsh reality of his situation began to sink in. Each step was a struggle, his small body feeling the strain of the previous ordeal. With each passing hour, his stomach growled louder, a painful reminder of his dire need for food. He tried to forage for berries or nuts, but the unfamiliar terrain yielded nothing edible. His throat burned with thirst, and every breath felt like a struggle, the cool air biting his lungs.

As night fell, the temperature dropped sharply. The once vibrant colors of the forest faded into an eerie, monochromatic landscape. Sonic shivered uncontrollably, his thin fur doing little to protect him from the biting cold. He searched desperately for shelter, but the forest provided no refuge. Curling up beneath a large tree, he tried to find some warmth, but sleep eluded him. The sounds of the night, once familiar and comforting, now filled him with dread. The hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, and the distant howls of unknown creatures kept him on edge.

The next day brought no relief. Weak from hunger and shivering with cold, Sonic’s movements became sluggish. His once vibrant blue fur was now matted and dirty, blending in with the somber hues of the forest. He stumbled through the dense underbrush, his vision blurring from exhaustion. His mind drifted back to Longclaw and the life they had shared, the warmth and safety of her presence now what felt like a distant memory. He remembered her gentle voice, her comforting wings, and the love that had always enveloped him.

Desperation drove him to drink from a murky puddle, the water dirty and foul-tasting, but it was the only source he could find. His stomach churned in protest, but he forced himself to swallow, knowing he had no other choice. Each step felt heavier than the last, and his thoughts grew increasingly disjointed. The forest, once a symbol of life and adventure, had become a cruel prison. All he wanted was to curl into a ball at Longclaw’s side after a long day of running around his island. All he wanted was to see her again.

By the third day, Sonic’s condition had worsened significantly. His body ached with hunger, and the cold seemed to seep into his very bones, sapping the last of his strength. He tripped over roots and stumbled into thorny bushes, his legs covered in scratches and bruises. He tried to call for help, but his voice was weak and hoarse, barely more than a whisper. The forest remained silent, offering no response to his pleas. The isolation and despair weighed heavily on him, and he felt his hope fading with each passing moment.

It was in this state of utter vulnerability that the G.U.N. agents found him, although at the time he was not aware of their title or what they wanted from him. The sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears, a rhythmic march that sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to summon the strength to run, but his legs refused to obey. Before he could react, bright spotlights cut through the darkness, blinding him. Sonic squinted, trying to make out the figures behind the lights, but all he saw were imposing silhouettes.

A deep, authoritative voice barked an order. “Target sighted. Move in!”

Too weak to run, Sonic could only watch and whimper as the agents closed in around him. Strong arms grabbed him, securing him in place. He struggled feebly, his limbs heavy and uncooperative, but his strength was no match for the well-trained agents, not that he could have overpowered much in his condition.

“Easy, kid. We’re not here to hurt you,” one of the agents said, though the firmness of his grip betrayed his words.

Sonic’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape route, desperate to keep his silent promise to Longclaw; but there was none. They lifted him effortlessly, carrying him towards a large, armored vehicle. The back doors swung open, revealing a sterile, metallic interior. Sonic’s mind raced with fear and uncertainty as they placed him inside and secured him with restraints.

The vehicle roared to life, its engine a deep, menacing growl. As they sped away, Sonic’s thoughts were a whirlwind of despair. Longclaw’s sacrifice, the loss of his home, and now, being captured by these unknown forces—his world had been turned upside down.

The journey felt endless, the vehicle’s interior cold and unforgiving. Sonic shivered, both from the chill and the anxiety gnawing at him. He had no idea where they were taking him or what awaited him at their destination.

After what felt like hours, the vehicle finally came to a stop. The doors opened, revealing a stark, clinical facility. Bright, sterile lights illuminated the corridor as the agents guided Sonic through a maze of hallways. The walls were lined with cold, unfeeling metal, and the air was filled with a faint hum of machinery.

They led Sonic into a small, windowless room. The walls were bare, the only furniture a metal table and chair bolted to the floor. They placed him in the chair and secured his restraints to the table, ensuring he couldn’t move.

One of the agents leaned in, his expression unreadable. “Stay here. Someone will be with you shortly.” Not that he could have gone far.

As the door closed behind them, Sonic was left alone in the cold, sterile room. The silence was suffocating, the weight of his situation pressing down on him. He had no idea what was going to happen next, but one thing was clear: he was no longer free. The darkness of the facility seemed to close in around him, a stark reminder of the harsh reality he now faced.

Chapter Text

Sonic sat in the room, ears drooped and shivering, his thoughts a fractured whirlwind of fear and confusion. The door creaked open, and a tall, stern-looking G.U.N. agent walked in. He wore a neatly pressed uniform, and his expression was one of practiced neutrality, yet there was a flicker of cold determination in his eyes. This figure of authority reminded Sonic of Longclaw, in a bitter way, when she would lecture him with that same sternness.

The agent took a seat across from Sonic, placing a folder on the metal table. He opened it, revealing a series of documents and photographs that made absolutely no sense to Sonic, so he only looked at the man, blank confusion etched across his face.

"We’ve been tracking an unusual energy signal for a couple of days now," the agent began, his voice steady and professional, which in normal circumstances would have Sonic losing interest. "It led us to you."

Sonic’s ears perked up; his fear was momentarily overshadowed by curiosity. "Energy signal?"

The agent nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Yes, it’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. It appears to originate from your world and has significant potential. We believe it could unlock new possibilities for the human race."

Sonic’s mind raced as he tried to comprehend the implications of the agent’s words. "But… why did you bring me here? What do you want from me? I can’t help you."

The agent’s gaze hardened, and a small, cold smile played on his lips. "You see, you are in possession of a power that we intend to harness. This facility is now your home, and you can and will help us understand and control this energy. Whether you cooperate or not is up to you, but make no mistake, you won’t be leaving here."

Fear gripped Sonic’s heart as he realized the true intentions of this man. "You can’t do this! I won’t help you!" he yelled, trying his best to wriggle out of his restraints.

The agent’s expression remained icy. "You don’t have a choice, kid. We will do whatever it takes to unlock the secrets of your power, even if it means cutting you open and stitching you back together."

Sonic’s heart ached at the thought of helping these awful people, his tiny chest rapidly beating like his own heart was trying to escape this fate. "I won’t help you!"

The agent’s smile vanished, replaced by a steely resolve as he watched the tears stream down the hoglet’s face. "We’ll see about that. Take him to his room."

Two more agents entered the room, their expressions just as cold and unyielding. They roughly grabbed Sonic, their grips tight and unforgiving as they undid the restraints on his arms and legs. Sonic struggled, but his strength was no match for the well-trained agents. They dragged him down a series of sterile, dimly lit hallways, the cold metal walls narrowing and closing in around him.

Everything around him screamed of unfamiliarity. The scent of disinfectant, the echo of their footsteps against the metallic floors, and the harsh artificial lights—all alien to Sonic.

His mind flashed with memories of the lush, vibrant forests he used to zip through. The rough bark under his fingertips, the crisp air filling his lungs, the soft rustle of leaves—things of the past. He longed for the gentle warmth of Longclaw's embrace and the serene beauty of the island they called home. Every step further into the facility drove home the stark contrast between the two worlds.

They reached a small, and once again, windowless room at the end of the corridor. The door creaked open, revealing a padded cell. The walls were lined with thick padding, and the only furnishings were a thin blanket on the ground and a small, metal bucket in the corner.

The agents shoved Sonic inside; the door slamming shut with a final clang as the lock turned. Sonic stumbled forward, his small body trembling with exhaustion and fear. He looked around the room, his heart sinking at the sight of his new "home."

As the door locked behind him, Sonic was left alone. The silence was suffocating. It was nothing like the comforting hush of the forest nights. This silence was heavy, a weight pressing down on him, amplifying his isolation.

Every noise he made seemed to bounce back tenfold, ringing in the empty room. Every thought was thunderous in his mind. How did it come to this? He was just a kid, a hedgehog, who had no place in this cold, heartless place.

Longclaw's final words echoed in his mind. "Remember everything I have taught you and never stop running." He had run, but now he found himself trapped in a place where running seemed impossible.

Despite the loss of the rings, Longclaw's sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain; he would find a way out. He wrapped his own arms around himself, imagining it as if it was Longclaw herself.

He curled up on the thin blanket, his body shivering from the cold. His mind flitted between despair and determination.

"I have to be brave. Longclaw believed in me." He whispered to himself, trying to draw strength from the memory of her loving gaze. The padded walls felt like they were closing in, but Sonic knew he couldn't give up. He had to find a way to escape and one day, return to the life he had lost.

The room already felt like a prison, but in the darkness, Sonic held onto the glimmer of hope that he could outsmart these humans and eventually find his way back to where he truly belonged.

The first few weeks in the facility were a blur of pain and confusion for Sonic. The G.U.N. agents wasted no time in beginning their experiments, determined to unlock the secrets of his powers. Each day brought new horrors as they pushed him to his limits, limits he had never known existed.

The physical experiments were brutal. They strapped Sonic to a cold, metal table, attaching electrodes to his body to "measure his energy output." The shocks they administered were excruciating, sending waves of agony through his small frame. Sonic's screams echoed through the sterile halls, but the agents remained unmoved, their expressions cold and detached. Sometimes, Sonic wondered if something out there was listening, if something out there cared about him—a feeling he dearly missed.

"We need to understand the source of your energy," one of the agents once explained, his voice devoid of any warmth. "These readings will help us determine how to harness it for our purposes."

They forced him to run on a treadmill for hours, sometimes days, on end, monitoring his speed and endurance. Sometimes, Sonic was impressed with himself, before he may have even considered it a challenge worth doing. The treadmill was set to an impossibly high speed even he could barely match, his legs burning with exhaustion as he struggled to keep up. His muscles ached, and his lungs felt like they were on fire, but the agents showed no mercy. They pushed him harder and harder, their eyes fixed on the data they were collecting and nothing—or no one—else.

"Your speed is unparalleled," another agent remarked, jotting down notes on their clipboard with a fascinated expression. "We need to see how long you can maintain it under extreme conditions."

The psychological torture was just as harrowing. They isolated Sonic for days, depriving him of any sensory input, which a child like him desperately needed. The silence was deafening, the darkness suffocating. Sonic's mind raced with fear and confusion, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He found himself often talking to himself, becoming his own best friend.

"We need to understand how you react to sensory deprivation," an agent explained, his tone clinical. "It's crucial for our research."

They would starve him, giving him as little water as they could get away with. Sonic's stomach growled with hunger, his throat burning with thirst. His small body only grew weaker with each passing day, but the agents remained indifferent to his suffering.

"We need to know your limits," one of the agents said coldly, as they shoved the food into his mouth. "It's essential for our experiments."

That’s all they ever seemed to say.

"It's essential for our experiments."

"We need to understand."

"This is important to our research."

"You’re doing a good deed here."

"This will help so many people."

Despite the relentless torture, Sonic refused to give in. He clung to the memory of Longclaw and her last words to him. He just needed to be strong. They may have taken his body, but they would not take his mind.

Each night, as he lay on the thin blanket in his padded cell, Sonic would close his eyes and imagine himself running through the forest of his home. He could almost feel the wind in his now matted fur, the ground beneath his bruised feet. It was a small comfort, but one he was fighting for.

As the weeks turned into months, Sonic heard the agents talking amongst themselves. Speaking of what he assumed was another test subject. It was selfish, and some part of Sonic would never forgive himself for thinking this, but there was a sort of comfort that wrapped around his being knowing he wasn’t the only one going through this.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door of his "room" opening, revealing the first G.U.N. agent he’d seen, who he now knows as "Commander Abraham Tower," or at least that’s what the others call him.

"Subject 171," the man said, approaching Sonic with what could only be malice. Sonic only cowered slightly, growling. The man cringed and laughed, "You need a bath."

Chapter Text

“Subject 171,” Commander Tower’s voice was a shard of ice, slicing through the thick air as Sonic looked at him, dreading the idea of a shower. “Get up.”

Sonic’s muscles protested as he stood, his eyes narrowing at the agents who stepped forward. Their grips were like iron cuffs around his arms, but something felt different today. There was no treadmill or electrodes in sight. As they dragged him through the sterile corridors, Sonic’s senses were on high alert. G.U.N.’s labyrinthine facility was a place he had come to hate, as anyone would in his position, yet he knew every corner of it—or so he thought.

The path today was unfamiliar. They passed rows of doors and training rooms, none of which they entered. The further they went, the more Sonic’s curiosity piqued. What were they planning? Was he actually going to get a wash?

Commander Towers remained silent, his presence a looming shadow over Sonic’s thoughts. The silence was a cacophony in itself. It only served to heighten Sonic’s anxiousness. As they turned yet another corner, one of the agents loosened his grip, distracted by a crackling radio transmission.

It was the opportunity Sonic had been waiting for. With a burst of energy born from desperation alone, he yanked his arms free and sprinted down the corridor. His heart hammered in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Shouts erupted behind him, blending with the alarms that began to wail.

“They told us to shoot! Non-lethal rounds only!” one of the agents barked, startling him.

Sonic’s feet barely touched the ground as he bolted, his ears ringing from the clamor. He could hear the distinctive whiz of tranquilizer darts flying past him, missing by mere inches. Darting down an unfamiliar hallway, he skidded to a halt in front of a heavy metal door. He could hear more agents converging from behind.

Gritting his teeth, Sonic tried the door, but it was locked tight. New agents appeared from the corner, brandishing their weapons. Sonic’s pulse quickened, if possible, but he didn’t waste time panicking. He turned and sprinted down a different corridor, his legs burning with each step.

Each breath he took felt like fire in his lungs. Exhaustion clawed at his body; his vision blurred slightly. But Sonic was determined. He refused to let them recapture him now, not when he finally had a chance of freedom.

Just as his legs began to falter, he rounded a corner and nearly collided with what looked like another hedgehog, accompanied by two guards. Sonic skidded to a stop, his eyes widening in surprise. The other hedgehog looked about his age, with black fur highlighted by streaks of red. He had shiny shoes on, a stark difference when compared to Sonic’s too tight, ripped shoes he wore himself. His ankles and wrists were decorated with golden bands, the necessity for such jewelry was lost to Sonic. He had a certain aura around him—cool, calm, and collected, despite the situation. It was intriguing.

As Sonic’s gaze lingered on the stranger, his mind began to race. Who was this hedgehog? There was an unmistakable intensity in those red eyes, a sharpness that seemed to cut through the chaos surrounding them. The black hedgehog’s presence was strangely comforting, and Sonic felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.

The new hedgehog tilted his head slightly, and as their eyes met, Sonic couldn’t help but notice the contrast between them. His own fur, once vibrant and full of life, now appeared dull and matted. This other hedgehog, however, seemed so… pristine. There was something almost captivating about the way he stood, exuding a quiet strength and confidence. Sonic’s thoughts were a jumble of curiosity and admiration. Could this hedgehog be a friend? There was a spark in those red eyes that hinted at untold stories and hidden depths that Sonic wanted so desperately to adventure if it meant company.

The momentary distraction was all the guards needed to close in on Sonic, their grips firm yet cautious. The new hedgehog tilted his head, a small smirk playing on his lips, and for a split second, Sonic swore he saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes as the blue hedgehog yelped and growled.

Commander Towers finally caught up to the agents, his face a mask of frustration as he saw them manhandling Sonic. “What’s the hold up?” he barked, his eyes narrowing at the struggling hedgehog. The agents said nothing, simply tightening their grip on Sonic as they waited for their next command. Towers nodded once, and the agents began dragging Sonic away, their movements rough but controlled.

As they moved through the pristine halls, the black hedgehog and his accompanying agents left in the opposite direction. They pain no mind to the commotion, their focus unwavering as they continued on their mission. Sonic’s eyes followed the other boy, naively hoping for a moment that he might intervene. But the other didn’t even glance his way, leaving Sonic to fend for himself against the agents.

The realization hit Sonic like a ton of bricks. There would be no rescue, no last-minute reprieve. He allowed the agents to manhandle him, his resistance fading as he accepted his fate. Commander Towers walked ahead, leading the group to a large, unassuming door marked only by a number. Sonic's pulse quickened as the door creaked open, revealing a stark, tiled room beyond.

The "showers," as Commander Towers called it, was a large open space with a massive glass window on one wall. The agents roughly shoved Sonic into the room, their hands unforgiving as they forced him to his knees onto what looked like a massive drain. Through the glass, Sonic could see the agents and Towers watching, their expressions unreadable.

Before Sonic could fully gather his bearings, the water started. It began as a trickle, then rapidly escalated to a torrential downpour, gushing from every corner of the room. The force of the water slammed Sonic back against the tiles, and he struggled to maintain his footing. Cold, unrelenting streams of water pounded against his body, searing his skin with their pressure.

Each gasp for air was a struggle, the water invading his lungs and burning his throat. Sonic clawed at the tiles, desperately trying to find purchase as the water overwhelmed him. Every second felt like an eternity, his vision going blurry as water streamed over his eyes. His muscles screamed in protest, exhaustion creeping in with every painful breath.

Outside the glass, Commander Towers watched impassively, his arms folded across his chest. The agents' faces were unreadable, their eyes fixed on the suffering hedgehog. Time stretched on, each passing moment a new torment for Sonic as he was battered by the relentless water. His legs began to falter, and he sank to his knees once more, the strength in his limbs completely drained.

Finally, the water ceased, leaving Sonic a gasping, trembling mess on the floor. He collapsed, unable to find the breath he so desperately needed. His body shook with violent tremors, each ragged inhale laced with pain and desperation. The room fell silent, the only sound the ragged breaths of the blue hedgehog as he lay there, defeated.

He lay on the cold tiled floor, his body trembling from the onslaught of the freezing water. Each breath he took was labored, his chest heaving with the effort. His soaked fur clung to his skin, making every movement a struggle. Just when he thought he could catch his breath, the water roared back to life.

The jets of icy water pummeled him once more, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Sonic gasped for air, his hands scrambling against the floor once again in a desperate attempt to find stability. The force of the water was unrelenting, pushing him to the brink of consciousness.

Commander Tower's cold voice echoed through the room, amplified by a hidden speaker. "We need to ensure you are clean enough for your new room, Subject 171. This is for your own good."

The words barely registered in Sonic's mind as the water continued to batter him. Each second felt like an eternity, the pain searing through his body. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, the water stopped abruptly.

He lay there, panting heavily, his vision swimming. But the respite was cruelly brief. The water surged back with renewed intensity, dragging him back into the nightmare. This cycle repeated, over and over, each time pushing Sonic closer to his limits.

Time lost all meaning as Sonic endured what felt like hours of torment. His mind struggled to stay focused, memories of happier times growing hazy and distant. Between the violent surges of water, Sonic’s body grew increasingly weaker. The moments of reprieve were just long enough for him to take a few painful breaths before the next wave hit. His senses dulled, the world around him narrowing to the cold, wet tiles beneath him and the relentless onslaught of water above.

"Stay with us, 171," Tower's voice intruded again, mocking and devoid of any compassion. "We can't have you passing out now."

Despair gnawed at the edges of his mind, but Sonic refused to give in. He focused on the memory of the black hedgehog he had encountered earlier. The cool confidence in those red eyes, the almost tangible aura of strength— it was something Sonic desperately longed to embody himself. He wanted to know more about this mysterious hedgehog, to understand the stories those eyes held.

As the water continued its brutal cycle, Sonic clung to that image. Every fiber of his being screamed in agony, but he fought to stay conscious. He had to stay strong. If not for himself, then for the glimmer of hope that there might be a way out of this torment.

After what felt like an eternity, the water ceased one final time. Sonic lay there, his body completely spent, struggling to draw even the slightest breath. Outside the glass, Commander Tower and the agents watched impassively, their faces devoid of any emotion.

The agents entered the room, their heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles. Sonic lay crumpled on the wet tiles, his body shivering uncontrollably from the cold. His fur plastered against his skin, creating a dangerous chill deep within his bones. The agents showed no sympathy, their faces expressionless as they roughly grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. Commander Tower stood by, watching with a cold detachment.

They dragged Sonic out of the shower room, not bothering to dry him off. Water dripped from his fur, leaving a trail behind them as they moved through the white halls. Sonic’s vision was blurry, his mind a foggy mess of pain and exhaustion. Occasionally, a violent cough would wrack his body, the cold causing his lungs to burn with each breath.

The commander led the way, his footsteps echoing ominously off the walls. Sonic barely registered his surroundings, his senses dulled by fatigue. He could only focus on the sensations: the cold, the rough grips of the agents, the overwhelming need to rest.

They approached a door unlike the others he had seen before. Commander Tower entered a code, the beep of the keypad seeming distant to Sonic’s ears. The door clicked open, and the agents dragged him inside, their movements unkind.

The room they entered was a stark contrast to his previous cell. It was slightly more spacious and contained two mattresses on the floor and two buckets in the corner. The faintest glimpse of comfort, imagine that. The sight barely registered with Sonic, his mind focused solely on staying conscious.

The agents unceremoniously dumped Sonic onto one of the mattresses, his body hitting the surface with a dull thud and his wet fur quickly soaking the thin material. He lay there, too weak to move, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. Commander Tower looked down at him, his expression cold and clinical.

“This is your new accommodation, Subject 171,” Tower's voice was flat, and devoid of any semblance of empathy. “You will be rooming with Subject 170, who is not here at the moment."

The name caught Sonic's fading attention. Subject 170—that might behe mysterious black hedgehog he had encountered earlier. The memory of those intense red eyes gave him a brief flash of curiosity, but his exhaustion was too overwhelming to dwell on it.

The agents and Commander Tower left the room, the door locking with a heavy click. Sonic was left alone, his body shaking uncontrollably from the cold. He tried to sit up, but his strength had been drained, leaving him helpless on the mattress.

Sonic's stomach churned, and the remnants of whatever little food he had in him forced their way out. He retched violently, his body convulsing with the effort. Once finished, he collapsed back onto the mattress, his mind slipping further into darkness.

The cold seeped into his bones, and as the room spun around him, Sonic's eyelids grew heavier. He fought to stay awake, but the pull of unconsciousness was too strong. With one last gasp, his head went completely limp, and he surrendered to the darkness, the faint memory of the black hedgehog flickering in his mind.

Chapter Text

The door to Sonic's new room shut with a jarring clash, pulling him from the depths of unconsciousness. His entire body ached from his previous torments, and his fur was still damp and matted from the relentless, freezing showers. For a moment, Sonic lay there, trying to gather the strength to move.

With great effort, he slowly pushed himself up, his muscles protesting with every slight movement. His vision was blurry as he glanced toward the door, expecting to see Commander Tower's imposing figure. The thought of another 'session' made his heart sink.

But what greeted him was not the commander. Instead, it was the black hedgehog from earlier—the one Tower referred to as Subject 170. Sonic’s eyes widened in surprise, a tiny spark of hope rekindling within him. Maybe this new cellmate would be different.

“Hello,” Sonic whispered weakly, his voice barely audible. His throat was dry and raw from the coughing fits, and his entire being felt like it was held together by sheer willpower alone.

The black hedgehog, however, paid him no heed. He moved to the other mattress without a word, lying down with his back to Sonic. There was no acknowledgment, no recognition—just a cold shoulder.

Sonic's heart sank a little. Even though he had hoped for some kind of camaraderie, it seemed that his new cellmate was as aloof as the agents themselves. Hopefully not as mean.

Despite his exhaustion, curiosity gnawed at Sonic. Who was this hedgehog? The black and red fur, the gold bands on his wrists and ankles, the polished shoes, everything about him seemed so peculiar, almost regal. There was a quiet strength in the way he carried himself, a stark contrast to Sonic's battered appearance.

As the minutes stretched on, the silence in the room became a heavy blanket, wrapping around Sonic and pressing down on his weary mind. He sat there, shivering slightly from the cold, his thoughts drifting back to when he first laid eyes on the hedgehog. That intense gaze, the confidence, and the calm demeanor—it was all so intriguing. Sonic found himself wondering about the stories and secrets hidden behind those red eyes.

The new hedgehog, Subject 170, remained motionless on his mattress, showing no signs of interest or concern for Sonic. It was both frustrating and disheartening. Sonic had grown so accustomed to the harsh treatment from the agents that he almost longed for a fleeting moment of kindness or connection.

Unable to resist any longer, Sonic shifted slightly on his mattress, trying to find a more comfortable position. The cold had seeped into his bones, making it hard to stay still. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his side.

“You don’t have to ignore me, you know,” Sonic muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure if the other hedgehog would even hear him, but he needed to say something, anything, to break the oppressive silence.

There was no response, no flicker of movement from the black hedgehog. He lay there, as still as a statue, leaving Sonic to wrestle with his own thoughts. Despite the lack of acknowledgment, just having someone else in the room was a small comfort, a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone in this horrible place.

As the night wore on, Sonic’s mind continued to race. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Subject 170 than met the eye. The few seconds they had shared in the hallway earlier had left a lasting impression on him. There was something almost magnetic about the other hedgehog—a presence that demanded attention and respect.

Sonic's thoughts drifted to Longclaw, to the life he had lost when he was taken from his home. The pain of those memories was a constant ache, but it was also a source of strength. He had to hold on to those memories, to the hope that one day he might escape this place and find his way back to the life he once knew.

Eventually, the exhaustion became too much to bear, and Sonic's eyelids grew heavy. Despite the cold and the pain, sleep came to him, pulling him into a restless slumber. The last thought that crossed his mind before he succumbed to the darkness was the image of those piercing red eyes looking back at him, filled with secrets he longed to uncover.

Over the next several weeks, Sonic tried repeatedly to get the other hedgehog to talk. Each attempt was met with silence or a dismissive glance. Sonic's frustration grew, but so did his determination. He was getting stronger, his body slowly recovering from the relentless experiments. The agents seemed to be giving him a break, perhaps to see how he would fare without constant torment.

Subject 170, however, remained an enigma. He was usually gone at least once a day, taken away by the agents for reasons unknown to Sonic. When he returned, he was often unscathed, though there were times when he bore minor injuries. Despite this, he never showed any signs of weakness or pain.

Sonic watched him closely, trying to understand the mystery that was his cellmate. There was a quiet strength in the black hedgehog, a resilience that Sonic admired. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through the wall of silence that surrounded Subject 170.

Every night, after the agents left them alone, Sonic would look over at Subject 170 and wonder what kind of life he had led before this, or if there even was one. He imagined stories and scenarios, trying to piece together the puzzle of the black hedgehog's past. Sometimes, Sonic would quietly talk to him, sharing fragments of his own memories and dreams, hoping that it might encourage Subject 170 to open up. But the silence remained unbroken.

One day, Sonic was subjected to a particularly gruesome procedure, not unlike his “shower” from before. The pain was excruciating, and it left him feeling more vulnerable than ever. That night, he woke up from a nightmare, his body drenched in sweat and his heart pounding in his chest. The pain from the procedure still lingered, making every movement a struggle.

He lay there for a while, trying to calm his racing thoughts. But the fear and pain were too much to bear alone. He hesitated, glancing over at the other hedgehog's mattress. Subject 170 lay there, as still and silent as ever.

Sonic's need for comfort and warmth outweighed his fear of rejection. Slowly, painfully, he crawled over to the other hedgehog's bed. Each movement sent waves of agony through his body, but he pressed on, driven by a desperate need for connection.

When he finally reached the mattress, he hesitated again. The black hedgehog showed no signs of awareness, his back still turned to Sonic. Gathering what little strength he had left, Sonic barely made contact, curling into a ball next to the other boy. The pain was intense, but the warmth of another presence was a small comfort.

Subject 170 shifted slightly but didn't push Sonic away. It was a small victory, but it meant the world to Sonic. He lay there, taking shallow breaths and trying to find solace in the shared space. The warmth from the black hedgehog’s body was a balm against the cold that had settled into Sonic's bones.

As the minutes passed, Sonic found himself calming down, the fear and pain gradually dulling into a manageable throb. The presence of Subject 170, though silent and unresponsive, gave him a sense of security he hadn't felt in a long time.

Sonic’s thoughts began to drift as he lay there. He hoped that one day, subject 170 would share his story. Sleep eventually claimed Sonic, pulling him into a light, restless slumber. The nightmares were never far away, their dark tendrils reaching for him at every opportunity. But with Subject 170 beside him, Sonic felt a little more resilient against the horrors that plagued his mind.

The next time Sonic woke up, the other boy was gone. The cold emptiness of the room pressed in on him, making him feel small and fragile. He waited all day in the other boy’s bed, curling into it and letting out a small purr. He found solace in the lingering warmth, a brief reprieve from the chilling isolation.

Hours seemed to stretch into eternity, but Sonic’s patience was rewarded when the door creaked open once again. The sound startled Sonic awake, his body tensing as the boy entered the room. An agent closed the door behind him with a resounding click, leaving the two hedgehogs alone once more.

Sonic lay his head back down, not really caring if the boy saw him in the bed. The comfort and warmth he found there were far more important than the disapproval of his silent cellmate. However, the black hedgehog growled, and, surprisingly enough, gently tapped Sonic with his shoe.

“Get out of my bed,” the boy finally spoke, his voice low and commanding. Sonic could only focus on the sound, his tail excitedly wagging.

“You speak!” Sonic exclaimed, his spirit lifting. He jumped up, leaning on his hands and knees, and looked up at the boy with wide, hopeful eyes.

The boy huffed in annoyance. They got into a light argument, words spilling out in a mixture of frustration and curiosity. Just as their exchange began to heat up, the food chute opening interrupted them, dropping down a singular tray as always.

Sonic's stomach growled loudly as he crawled his way to the tray. He lifted the lid to reveal the same unappetizing, bland slop they were given every day. Despite its lack of flavor and appeal, Sonic knew he had to eat. His body needed sustenance to heal and regain strength. Hesitantly, he scooped a small amount into his mouth, grimacing at the taste but forcing himself to swallow.

The black hedgehog, now standing across the room, watched Sonic with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. “You really are something else,” he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for Sonic to hear.

Sonic looked up, his eyes locking onto the other boy’s. “I have to stay strong,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with determination. “I want to get out of here. Don’t you?”

The boy hesitated, his gaze hardening. He moved closer and snatched the tray from Sonic’s hands, inspecting the food with a look of disdain. “This isn’t strength,” he said flatly. “This is survival.”

Sonic’s ears drooped slightly, but he didn’t look away. “What’s your name?” he asked, his tone softening. He needed to know more about this enigmatic cellmate who seemed so resilient yet so closed off.

The boy hesitated before speaking again. “Shadow,” he said finally, his voice holding a hint of defiance.

“Shadow,” Sonic repeated, as if savoring the taste of the name, his tail wagging slightly. “I’m Sonic.” He offered a small smile, but Shadow’s expression remained guarded.

For a moment, silence settled between them, broken only by the faint hum of the lights above. Shadow returned the tray to Sonic and turned away, his posture stiff. He walked to the far corner of the room and sat down, his back to the cold metal wall.

Sonic watched him for a few minutes, a mix of curiosity and sympathy swirling within him. He couldn’t imagine what Shadow had been through, but he vowed to break through the walls the other boy had built around himself. Sonic glanced once more at the food and again at Shadow, ultimately deciding to lie back down on Shadow’s bed, even if the boy himself refused to.

As the weeks turned into months, the two hedgehogs fell into a silent routine. Sonic continued to heal, his body growing stronger with each passing day, despite the near constant trials. He tried to engage Shadow in conversation whenever they were alone to distract himself, sharing stories about his past and dreams about the future. Shadow, for the most part, remained silent, his responses usually limited to grunts or curt nods, but it was still better than before.

Each interaction was a small victory for Sonic, a step closer to understanding the mysterious hedgehog. He noticed the subtle shifts in Shadow’s demeanor—how his shoulders relaxed just a fraction when Sonic spoke, or how his eyes softened ever so slightly when they shared an unspoken moment of camaraderie.

One night, after a particularly grueling session with the agents, Sonic lay on his bed, exhaustion and pain threatening to overwhelm him. The familiar sense of loneliness crept in, and he found himself glancing over at Shadow’s mattress. Without thinking, he crawled over and lay down next to the black hedgehog, seeking the comfort of his presence once more.

Shadow tensed but didn't push Sonic away. Instead, he let out a resigned sigh and turned his head slightly to look at him. “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sonic took a deep breath, summoning the strength to answer. “Because I believe there's more to you than what they see,” he said earnestly. “I see someone strong, someone who’s been through a lot but hasn’t given up. I just want to get to know you, Shadow.”

I’m also just really lonely.

Shadow remained silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he exhaled slowly and turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “You're stubborn,” he murmured, but there was a hint of something softer in his voice, a crack in the armor he’d built around himself.

Sonic smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. He nestled closer, taking comfort in the warmth of Shadow’s presence. As they lay there in the dark, the silence between them began to feel less like a barrier and more like a shared understanding, a fragile connection slowly being forged.

Still, the silence between them stretched, heavy yet not unwelcome. Sonic shifted slightly, wincing as his sore muscles protested. The cold metal floor was unforgiving, but the warmth radiating from Shadow was enough to make him stay. He felt the subtle rise and fall of the other hedgehog’s breathing, steady and controlled, so unlike his own, which was still uneven from the lingering pain of the day’s trials.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Sonic didn’t push. He had learned that Shadow didn’t respond well to prying, so he let the silence be. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to memories of another life, one far removed from this cold, sterile prison.

“I used to love running at night,” Sonic murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “When everything was quiet, when it was just me and the stars. I liked how the wind felt, how free I was.”

Shadow didn’t respond, but he didn’t tell Sonic to shut up either, so Sonic took it as a good sign.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw the sky,” Sonic admitted, his tone wistful. “The real sky, I mean. Not these fake lights or the flashes from their machines.” He let out a soft sigh, curling his fingers into the thin fabric of Shadow’s mattress. “I miss it.”

A long pause. Then, just when Sonic thought Shadow wouldn’t acknowledge him, a quiet voice broke through the darkness.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw it either.”

Sonic’s eyes widened slightly. He turned his head, catching the faint glimmer of red eyes in the dim light. Shadow was still staring at the ceiling, his expression unreadable, but his words carried a weight that Sonic hadn’t expected.

It was the first real thing Shadow had shared.

Sonic swallowed, his throat tight. “Then maybe… we can see it together one day.”

Shadow didn’t scoff or turn away. He simply let out a slow breath. “Maybe.”

It wasn’t a promise, but it wasn’t a rejection either. And for now, that was enough.

Sonic smiled softly, closing his eyes again. The silence returned, but it was lighter this time, carrying with it the fragile beginnings of understanding. He let the warmth of Shadow’s presence ground him, offering a rare sense of comfort in a place built to break them.

For the first time in a long while, Sonic didn’t feel quite so alone.

The next morning, everything changed.

The agents entered without warning, their boots echoing ominously against the metal floor. Shadow stiffened immediately, his body going rigid as Sonic groggily pushed himself upright. They had gotten used to the routine, the endless cycle of being prodded, tested, and tormented. But today was different.

One of the guards gestured toward them. “Both of you. Get up.”

Sonic exchanged a glance with Shadow, confusion flickering in his eyes. Usually, they were taken separately. This was new. And new was never good.

As they were escorted through the halls, Sonic's mind raced. He had spent so long focusing on regaining his strength, on surviving, that he hadn’t stopped to think about what the agents might do next. The air in the facility felt different today—colder, heavier. He stole a glance at Shadow, whose face was set in a grim mask. He knew something was off too.

They passed unfamiliar corridors lined with reinforced doors, some of which had heavy locks and warning signs plastered across them. From behind one of the doors, Sonic thought he heard muffled shouting—perhaps another prisoner, another test subject like them. He shivered but kept moving.

Then, they entered a vast chamber, unlike any Sonic had seen before. The ceiling was high, covered in glaring fluorescent lights. The walls were lined with observation windows, where scientists stood, clipboards in hand, watching them like specimens in a petri dish. A reinforced glass panel separated them from another room, filled with high-ranking officials. Whatever this was, it was important.

A mechanical voice crackled overhead. “Combat test commencing.”

Sonic barely had time to react before the floor beneath them shifted, mechanisms whirring as the surface adjusted. Restraints released from the walls, and the implication hit him like a punch to the gut.

They wanted them to fight.

Shadow’s fists clenched at his sides. Sonic could feel the tension radiating from him, but he also saw something else—a flicker of hesitation. Whatever the agents had planned, it wasn’t just a test of strength. It was a test of loyalty, of endurance, of control.

The voice spoke again, cold and clinical. “Begin.”

A sharp clang echoed as barriers snapped into place, sealing them in. Sonic took a step back, heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t want to fight Shadow. Not like this.

But Shadow’s expression darkened. His stance shifted, muscles coiling like a loaded spring, ears pinned back. For the first time since they met, Sonic saw something unfamiliar in Shadow’s gaze—doubt, conflict… and maybe even regret.

Sonic’s throat tightened. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. This wasn’t just about brute force—this was about control. They wanted to see if Sonic and Shadow would turn on each other, if they could be broken down into pawns for whatever purpose this place served.

Sonic swallowed hard. “Shadow,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “We don’t have to do this.”

Shadow’s hands curled into fists. He hesitated, his breath unsteady for the first time. But then, slowly, his expression hardened. “We don’t have a choice.”

Before Sonic could respond, Shadow lunged.

Sonic barely dodged, feeling the rush of air as Shadow’s fist missed his face by inches. Sonic's instincts screamed at him to counter, to fight back—but he couldn’t. Not against Shadow. But he also knew the scientists were watching, waiting to see what they would do. What would happen if they refused?

Shadow came at him again, faster this time, forcing Sonic to leap backward. Sonic’s mind raced. He had to find a way out of this, a way to convince Shadow to stop. But the look in Shadow’s eyes told him what he already knew.

Shadow wasn’t fighting because he wanted to.

He was fighting because if he didn’t, the consequences would be worse.

Chapter Text

Sonic barely dodged, feeling the rush of air as Shadow’s fist missed his face by inches. His instincts screamed at him to counter, to fight back—but he couldn’t. Not against Shadow. But the cameras were watching, the scientists observing their every move.

Another strike came, faster this time, forcing Sonic to jump back. The impact of Shadow’s missed blow sent a crack through the metallic floor beneath them. He wasn’t holding back. Or rather, he couldn’t.

Sonic’s heart pounded. He saw the frustration in Shadow’s eyes, the storm brewing behind them. This wasn’t just a fight. It was a battle of wills, a test of control neither of the boys had asked for.

“Shadow, stop!” Sonic gasped, ducking beneath a sweeping kick. “You don’t have to-”

Shadow cut him off with a snarl, lunging again. This time, Sonic had no choice but to block, catching Shadow’s wrist just before impact. The force behind it nearly sent him skidding back.

Their eyes locked. For a split second, Sonic saw it—the conflict, the silent plea buried beneath Shadow’s hardened expression. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by determination. Sonic gritted his teeth. If they wanted a fight, he’d give them one. But not the one they wanted, not like this.

Sonic’s grip tightened around Shadow’s wrist, the raw power surging through the black hedgehog’s form evident as he twisted his arm to break free. Shadow growled, his eyes narrowing with a mic of anger and frustration.

“You think you can stop them? Me?” Shadow spat, his voice low and seething with venom that Sonic knew in his heart wasn’t directed at him. Shadow’s other fist shot forward, catching Sonic in the ribs. The impact felt like a sledgehammer, sending Sonic’s small body stumbling back with a sharp grunt. Blood trickled from his mouth as he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

“I don’t want to fight you, Shadow,” Sonic panted, struggling to keep his balance. Still, he saw the hint of worry in the other’s eyes. “This isn’t…”

Shadow’s scoff interrupted him, cold and hollow. “You don’t get it, do you? This is exactly who I am. This is what I was made for.” His eyes gleamed darkly as he pushed forward sending another brutal punch at Sonic’s chest before the boy could react. The blow sent Sonic crashing into the wall behind him, the impact rattling his bones.

He glanced up at the window, the scientists writing who-knows-what on their clipboards. Shaking his head, Sonic stumbled to his feet, blood quickly staining his fur. “You’re wrong,” Sonic said, his voice trembling with both pain and determination. “You’re not a weapon. You don’t have to be this way, just let me help you! We can see the sky together, like I promised!”

Shadow paused; his fist frozen in mid-air. For a moment, the world seemed to slow. The chaos of their surroundings, the cold metal floor, the flickering lights, all blurred into the background. Sonic’s gaze met Shadow’s, and in that fleeting moment, something unspoken passed between them—a brief glimmer of the bond they shared just that night, the trust that had been shattered by this chaos-forsaken facility and its agents, but not entirely destroyed.

“Help me?” Shadow whispered bitterly, his voice raw. “How? After everything they’ve done to me. After how I’ve treated you?” He stepped back, his fists clenched at his sides. “I am beyond saving.”

Sonic wiped the blood from his lips again, his expression hardening. “No one is beyond saving, especially not you,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. He has no idea what they could have possibly done to Shadow to encourage this behavior, but Sonic still has the rest of his life to prove to Shadow they can be more than just lab rats.

Before Shadow could react, Sonic dashed forward, moving faster than the eye could follow. His fist collided with Shadow’s stomach with a sickening thud, the force of the blow lifting Shadow off his feet and slamming him to the ground.

Shadow coughed, the air knocked from his lungs as he struggled to stand, blood seeping from a gash on his forehead. His head swam with pain, but there was no time to recover. His instincts kicked in, and he surged upward, launching himself at Sonic once more with a battle cry.

Sonic barely had time to react as Shadow’s knee collided with his stomach, sending him flying back. The metal floor beneath them cracked further, sharp edges cutting into Sonic’s arms and legs as he tried to regain his footing. The scent of blood filled the air, and Sonic knew that this wasn’t just a physical fight anymore—it was a fight for Shadow’s soul, for Shadow’s freedom. Part of Sonic wondered if the scientists planned to make them fight till one of them died, a deeper part of Sonic hoped Shadow would just kill him if that was the truth.

“You’re not the only one hurting!” Shadow roared, launching himself at Sonic again, his fists like hammers as they crashed down on Sonic’s head and shoulders. “I’ve been used, cut into, broken! Don’t act like you understand what it’s like to lose everything!”

Sonic staggered backward, his small body bruised and bloodied from the onslaught. He wiped a trail of blood from his cheek, is breath ragged as he steadied himself. “I’ve lost people, too, Shadow.” Sonic said, his voice raw but unwavering. His heart hurt thinking of Longclaw. “But that doesn’t mean we have to keep fighting!”

Shadow hesitated for the briefest of moments, his fist suspended in mid-air. But then, with a scream of frustration, he charged forward once more, not caring that the blood dripping from his wounds was staining the floor beneath him.

Sonic gritted his teeth and braced himself. If this was the fight that Shadow needed, then he would give it his all. If not for him, then for Longclaw, to prove he was still trying to keep his promise. They weren’t just fighting each other; they were fighting the twisted, painful past that neither hedgehog could escape. But for Sonic, even if he couldn’t save Shadow today, he would never give up on him.

With one final burst of speed, Sonic lunged at Shadow, their bodies colliding with a violent crash. The fight would continue.

Barely dodging the other’s attack, Sonic’s fist slammed into Shadow’s chest with a sickening crack. The force of the punch echoed through the room, the metallic floor buckled beneath them as Shadow was knocked off balance. Sonic pulled his hand back, his breath coming in sharp gasps, blood streaking his cheek.

But instead of the immediate reaction he’d expected—Shadow rising to fight back—there was a moment of stillness. Shadow staggered back, his eyes wide as he looked at Sonic, not with fury, but something deeper.

Maria’s laughter echoed softly in the distance.

A young Maria, smiling with unguarded joy, stood beside him as they gazed up at the sky together. The stars sparkled above, a perfect reflection of the peace they’d shared in those rare moments of freedom. Shadow, still new to the world, looked to her with uncertainty. He didn’t yet understand all the emotions that flickered inside him, but Maria did. She understood him in a way no one else could.

“There’s so much more out there, Shadow,” Maria had whispered, her voice soft and hopeful as she pointed to the vastness of the sky. “One day, you’ll be free to explore it all. Just you and me... together.”

Shadow remembered the way she’d looked at him, her eyes filled with such belief. He wanted to believe it too. But deep down, there was always a cold, gnawing fear that he’d never truly belong anywhere. Still, in that moment, he allowed himself to feel the warmth of her presence, the only light in his existence.

The lab was sterile and silent—except for the distant sound of gunfire.

Maria lay motionless, her body crumpled in the same sterile halls she’d once tried to protect him in. The chaos had come suddenly, without warning. She had always told him that no matter what happened, she would be there for him—but that was before the dark days arrived. Before the betrayals.

Shadow knelt beside her, his hand hovering over her bloodied form, his entire being screaming in disbelief.

“Maria...” His voice broke as he whispered her name, desperate, aching. She was slipping away, her breathing shallow, the light in her eyes fading with every breath.

“I... I failed you,” Shadow muttered through clenched teeth, rage boiling in his chest. The feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him.

Maria, even in her final moments, tried to reach for him. Her fingers brushed against his, trembling weakly.

“You... you’re... not... alone,” she breathed, the words fragile. “I’ll always be with you...”

Her hand fell limply into his, and for the first time, Shadow felt something break inside him. He couldn’t save her. He couldn’t protect her. The one person who had ever believed in him was gone. And all he had left was the pain of her loss—and the unrelenting need for revenge.

For a split second, Sonic could have sworn he saw a crack in the black hedgehog’s hardened exterior, a vulnerability that only lingered for an instant before it was gone, replaced by a cold, determined mask. But sonic couldn’t be sure. The flashbacks that had flooded the other boy’s mind, the images of Maria, the lab, and Shadow’s grief, weren’t his own. He hadn’t seen them. He didn’t know that Shadow had relived those moments in his own mind, constantly.

“Shadow…” Sonic said, his voice a little quieter now, worn down from the battle but still full of conviction.

Shadow’s fist clenched tighter, his whole-body trembling with the weight of his emotions, but he didn’t strike. Instead, he let out a bitter laugh, low and mocking. Shadow looked away, his gaze becoming distant, as if retreating into some dark corner of his mind. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing for a long moment, as if struggling with words that wouldn’t come. Then, slowly, like a man worn down by the weight of his past, he spoke again—his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You don’t get it, Sonic,” Shadow murmured, eyes downcast. “I have to do this. The world, the people in it—everything I was told... everything I saw—it’s all a lie.” His voice cracked, but he quickly masked it with anger. “I was made for one purpose, and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll never be... anything more.”

Sonic shook his head, his eyes softening with understanding. “That’s not true, Shadow. You’re not just some weapon... You’re more than that. You can still change.”

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Shadow’s breathing slowed, and he seemed to soften—just a little—but then the familiar coldness returned to his features, and his fists clenched once again.

“I’ve lost too much to ever be free like you,” Shadow said, his voice steady but filled with bitterness. “I’ve seen what the world really is—and I won’t let it keep breaking me.”

Sonic stepped forward, his body aching from the fight, but his resolve stronger than ever. “You don’t have to be alone in this. Let me help you.”

Shadow’s gaze flickered briefly to Sonic, his eyes searching, as if weighing his words. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to pause. The world around them—cold, metallic, and unforgiving—felt strangely distant. But then the brief moment of vulnerability vanished, replaced by the hardened resolve that Sonic had come to know so well.

“You can’t help me, Sonic. Not this time,” Shadow said, his voice a quiet storm of resignation.

The tension hung thick in the air. Sonic didn’t know if he’d ever truly reach Shadow, if they could ever be more than subjects in this twisted game. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t give up. Not on Shadow. Not on the possibility of something better.

With a sigh, Sonic raised his fists again, his body ready for whatever came next. "Then I’ll just keep trying until you see it. I won’t stop."

The fight raged on for what felt like eternity, the clashing of Sonic and Shadow’s fury echoed through the cold, destroyed room. But suddenly, the lights above them flickered and then turned off completely, leaving them in eerie darkness for a moment. A voice came over the intercom, mechanical and detached, breaking through the chaos.

“Experiment concluded. Stand down immediately.”

Both hedgehogs froze mid-strike, the command slicing through the air like a whip. The voice was cold, emotionless. It came from them—the scientists who had watched their every move. No explanation, no warning. Just a stark command.

Sonic’s breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with the strain of the fight. His body ached from the relentless barrage of blows, and the blood from his wounds strained his fur dark red. But even now, with the experiment on pause, he couldn’t quite trust that the fight was over. His eyes narrowed, scanning the room.

“What now?” Sonic muttered under his breath.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the hall, and the doors to the chamber slammed open. Agents in full combat gear flooded in, their weapons aimed directly at Sonic and Shadow. They moved with precision, their faces obscured by helmets, but their intent was clear.

“Step back, both of you,” an agent barked, his voice harsh and commanding.

Sonic tensed, his fists still clenched, ready for the next fight. But he could feel his body faltering, his wounds on from the battle had taken their toll, and despite his instinct to keep fighting, he was beginning to sway on his feet.

“You’re not taking us without a fight!” Sonic shouted, his voice hoarse.

Shadow, still bruised and bloodied, stood a few feet away, watching the agents closely. His expression was unreadable, his fist clenched at his sides. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to keep fighting, or if something inside him was telling him to stop. He’d hurt Sonic enough…too much.

The agents advanced swiftly, and the first one lunged at Sonic, attempting to pin him. Sonic reacted instinctively, trying to dodge and counterattack, but the pain in his side from his earlier injuries made him slow. A sharp punch from one of the agents caught him square in the stomach, and Sonic gasped, his vision blurring.

He tried to fight back—kicking, striking, even attempting to break free—but the agents were relentless as always. The pain in his body overwhelmed him, and his resistance grew weaker with each passing second. His limbs felt heavy, his movements sluggish, and before long, he collapsed to the ground, his energy spent.

“Sonic!” Shadow’s voice cracked as he saw his friend (?) hit the floor, his heart tightening in his chest. He was caught between wanting to help and not knowing how to fix the damage he’d already caused. For a brief moment, regret flashed in Shadow’s eyes, and the brutal determination from before seemed to falter.

He stepped forward, making a desperate attempt to reach Sonic, but the agents immediately turned their weapons toward him, aiming to contain him as well.

“Stay down!” one of the agents warned, as they surrounded both hedgehogs.

Shadow’s ears pinned back, but his gaze flickered between the agents and Sonic. He could see energy draining from Sonic’s body, the fight gone out of him, and it struck him like a blow to the chest. His heart ached. The regret was unbearable, he had pushed Sonic too far. What would Maria think of him now?

The agents secured Sonic in restraints, forcefully dragging him away from the scene. Sonic’s eyes were half-lidded, barely able to keep himself conscious as the agents carted him off. Shadow wanted to reach out, to stop them, but he was quickly restrained himself—his body still too weak from battle.

“No…” Shadow muttered, his voice trembling. He didn’t know if the regret he felt was from the physical pain of what he had done, or from the emotional weight of realizing that Sonic had never deserved any of it.

Sonic was unceremoniously tossed back into his old cell—the cold, dark room that had once been his prison, one he hadn’t been in in what feels like years. The familiar, oppressive air wrapped around him like a suffocating shroud. He had been here before, but this time, it felt different. The walls seemed to close in even tighter, the isolation unbearable. He tried to push himself up, but his body screamed in protest. The injuries from the fight, the blood loss, everything weighed him down.

He could hear the distant sound of footsteps in the corridor outside his cells. The door clicked open, and a tall figure stopped inside. Commander Towers, the one orchestrating it all. The man who had been behind the experiments, the one who had turned Sonic’s life into nothing more than a series of controlled tests.

Sonic growled as Towers looked down at Sonic, a cold smirk crossing his face as he observed the broken hedgehog in front of him.

“Well, well. It seems your little relationship with Subject 170 didn’t go as planned,” Towers said, his voice low and mocking. He crossed his arms, standing just outside of Sonic’s reach. “I trust you’re aware of the larger picture here, Subject 171. All of this…” he gestured around the room. “Was never about you or 170, was it? You two were simply pawns in a game much bigger than your simple-minded species could comprehend.”

Sonic’s eyes narrowed, the anger rising in him despite the pain. “You’re sick.”

Towers chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Sick? No, Subject 171. I’m simply a visionary.” He stepped closer, kneeling down in front of Sonic and tightly gripping his muzzle. “You and 170 were part of an elaborate experiment, carefully designed to test limits—physical, mental, emotional. You were never meant to have control. Neither of you were. You were brought here to fight, to break, to be remade again. And in the end, we’ll have the perfect specimen, the perfect weapon. Just as we’ve always planned.”

Sonic’s heart sank as Towers continued to speak, the weight of his words sinking in. He hadn’t just been a subject of the experiment, he had been a cog in the machine, something to be manipulated, twisted, controlled. And now, even worse, Shadow had been a part of this, too. Possibly even longer than Sonic had.

But before Sonic could respond, Towers let go of Sonic and walked out of the cell, his footsteps fading down the corridor as the door locked behind him, leaving Sonic alone in the suffocating darkness once more.

The walls of the facility closed in around Shadow as the agents dragged him down the hall, his body heavy with exhaustion. Every step felt like it took him further away from the brief connection he had felt with Sonic—an illusion, perhaps, or a fleeting moment of weakness.

His fists were still clenched, the raw pain from his wounds searing through him. The harsh clang of metal echoed as they pushed open the door to his old cell. Shadow stumbled forward, barely catching himself as the agents shoved him inside. The door slammed shut behind him with a finality that left him feeling more alone than he had ever been.

The dull, artificial light flickered overhead, casting long shadows against the cold, gray walls. It was the same room he had been in before—before Sonic, before the fleeting hope that things might change. Before he had allowed himself to care, if only for a moment.

Shadow sank to his knees, his body too broken to fight the pull of gravity. Blood and sweat stained his fur, but it was the weight of his own guilt that felt the heaviest. He couldn’t shake the image of Sonic—bloodied, bruised, struggling to stay conscious as the agents dragged him away.

He hadn’t wanted this. He never wanted to hurt him. But the truth was… he had known, at least on some level, what he was walking into. The pain, the manipulation, the lies. They had both been subjects in this twisted experiment from the beginning. The bond he had shared with Sonic—fragile and fleeting—was never meant to be.

“I should have known better,” Shadow whispered to himself, the words barely escaping his cracked lips. His chest tightened with the weight of his realization. He had been taught from the moment he was created that attachment was dangerous—that emotions were weaknesses, distractions. It had always been the scientists' way, and they had made sure he understood that well. He had kept himself distant from Sonic, kept him at arm's length, because he knew what it meant to get too close to someone in this place.

The scientists had made them both into weapons—tools to be used and discarded. Sonic had been their experiment just as much as he was. But unlike Sonic, who had fought against it with every breath, Shadow had embraced it—pushed it away, hidden from the truth, afraid that if he cared too much, he’d break all over again.

He could still hear Maria's voice in his head, echoing through the quiet emptiness of the cell. “Don’t ever forget what you’re fighting for, Shadow. You’re not alone.” But it felt so far away now, as though her words had never been meant for him at all.

And now, Sonic. Sonic had reached out, despite the pain, despite everything Shadow had done to him. He had offered something Shadow couldn’t accept—help. A hand to pull him out of the darkness.

Shadow's head dropped into his hands, fingers trembling as they gripped his hair. The weight of it all—Maria, the betrayals, the lies, the isolation—pressed down on him with a crushing force. He had thought he was beyond saving, beyond redemption. But Sonic had made him wonder. Wonder if it was even possible to change.

With a low growl, Shadow stood up slowly, staggering toward the small, grated window that barely let any light through. He leaned against the wall, his back to the door, staring out into the endless dark. There was nothing but the oppressive silence of the facility surrounding him. He felt… empty. Hollow. As though even his anger, the one thing he had held onto all this time, had been drained away.

The door to his cell suddenly opened again, and a familiar voice cut through the silence—Commander Towers, the one who had made Shadow what he was.

"Subject 170," Towers began, his tone both distant and condescending. "It seems you've failed your test. But that's not surprising, is it? You never truly believed you were capable of anything more than destruction."

Shadow didn’t respond, his eyes focused on the floor as if trying to escape the weight of the words. His mind was still reeling, torn between the pain of his past and the strange, reluctant bond he’d formed with Sonic.

"You thought you could escape this, didn’t you?" Towers continued, moving further into the room, his boots clicking on the floor as he approached. "That you could find meaning in your connection with 171. But I told you, Subject 170—this was never about you or him. You were never meant to be anything but a tool. A weapon."

A hollow laugh escaped from Shadow's lips, a sound void of humor or hope. "A weapon?" he whispered, almost to himself. He had known that—felt that in every fiber of his being. From the moment he was created, he had been a tool of destruction. But for a brief moment, he had dared to think there was something else—a chance for something more.

Shadow's chest tightened, the bitter taste of defeat filling his mouth. The weight of Towers' words settled heavily on him. Sonic had been right. They had been manipulated from the start—nothing more than pawns in someone else’s twisted game.

"You were never going to escape," Towers said with a slight sneer. "Not like this. Not with your emotional baggage clouding your judgment. But you will still serve your purpose. Both of you."

Shadow raised his head slowly, his eyes burning with something fierce. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, his voice steady despite the exhaustion that pulled at his limbs. Towers might have thought he had broken him, but there was still a flicker of defiance in Shadow—a refusal to completely give in.

Towers gave him a cold, appraising look, then turned and began walking toward the door. “What comes next is something you’ll come to understand soon enough." Towers said, his voice dropping into a tone of finality.

Before Shadow could respond, the door slammed shut, leaving him once again in his solitude—his thoughts a mix of confusion, anger, and an undeniable yearning to break free from the shackles of his past. Sonic’s words echoed in his mind. You’re not a weapon. You’re more than that. But for the moment, it felt impossible. He had been made for one thing. One purpose.

And yet, something still flickered inside him—a desire to fight, to survive, to maybe, just maybe, be free.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the sterile corridor as Commander Towers made his way to the debriefing room. Behind him, the heavy door slid open, revealing a dimly lit space filled with sterile white walls, tables cluttered with data sheets, and monitors displaying live feeds of both 171 and 170’s cells.

A group of scientists sat around a long table; their faces obscured by the blue glow of the monitors in front of them. They were reviewing the results of the experiment—171 and 170’s most recent conflict, the data, the physical and emotional responses.

Towers stepped into the room, his posture straight and imposing. The scientists immediately rose, acknowledging his presence with quiet nods. He motioned for them to continue.

"Commander," one of the lead scientists spoke, adjusting his glasses as he looked up from the screen. "The experiment has reached a critical point. We’ve gathered enough data on their physical and emotional limits. Subject 171 continues to resist, but he’s showing signs of exhaustion. Subject 170 is more malleable than anticipated. He has internalized the purpose we’ve assigned to him, but we’ve yet to fully break him."

"What about their bond?" Towers asked, his voice cold and calculated. "Is it truly a weakness, or can we exploit it further?"

"It’s complex," the scientist replied, tapping a few keys to pull up a chart. "Their bond is far more intricate than expected. They’ve formed a psychological connection despite our efforts to keep them apart. Subject 171’s resistance is partially driven by his desire to save Subject 170—while 170, in turn, is constantly at war with himself. He still clings to the hope that he can escape this."

Towers leaned forward, his fingers tapping the edge of the table. "Then we must sever that bond. The experiment was never meant to be about them—it’s about the power they hold. 171’s speed, 170’s strength, and their combined abilities. Together, they can be something unimaginable—something beyond what we’ve ever created."

The scientist nodded slowly. "We’re already seeing signs that 171’s influence is wearing on 170. He’s questioning the path we’ve put him on, and that... could be problematic. If he continues to bond with 171, their abilities could become volatile."

Towers’ eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking toward the monitors showing the two hedgehogs in their cells. "We’ve worked too long to let sentimentality get in the way. The experiment has always been about control—about creating the perfect weapons." He turned toward the lead scientist. "Prepare for phase two. We’ll separate them fully. And when the time is right, we’ll test what happens when they realize they are not each other’s salvation."

The scientist hesitated but then nodded. "Understood, Commander. Phase two will begin immediately. We’ll monitor the psychological and physiological effects closely."

Towers’ lips curled into a slight, cold smile. "Good. Let’s see what happens when we remove the last piece of their humanity."

The scientists resumed their work as Towers turned to leave the room, the door sliding closed behind him. The hum of machines and distant beeping filled the silence, a constant reminder of the unyielding control they had over the two subjects.

As Towers walked down the hallway, he allowed himself a moment to think of the final outcome—the ultimate test. A weapon forged from the broken pieces of these two hedgehogs, a weapon that could bring about the future they envisioned. He knew that everything would fall into place soon enough.

"Subject 170...," he muttered under his breath as he walked away. "You’ll realize soon enough. You were never meant to be free. Just as Doctor Robotnik intended.”

Chapter Text

The hum of machinery was constant, a never-ending drone that pulsed through the steel walls of the facility. Nine years had passed since the last time Sonic and Shadow had crossed paths, but within the walls of the experiment, time was nothing more than a cruel cycle of repetition. A test. A trial. A slow, deliberate erosion of what they once were.

And now, the final phase had begun.

The cell was smaller than he remembered. Or maybe he had just grown too big for it. Sonic sat on the cold floor, his back against the wall, staring at the dim red light blinking overhead. His arms rested over his knees, bruised and aching, his body bearing the scars of countless tests, experiments, and failures.

The past nine years had been a blur of movement, of running—always running. Every day, the scientists forced him onto their energy harnessing tracks, hooked him up to machines that drained his speed as if he were nothing more than a living battery. He had spent years pushed past exhaustion, running through artificial landscapes, being prodded, measured, observed. Whenever he faltered, they would crank up the stakes—make him run faster, longer, harder. His body had adapted, his endurance had grown, but the cost had been everything else.

He didn’t remember what fresh air smelled like. He barely remembered what it felt like to stop.

And yet, they had never broken him. Not really.

He still fought them, resisted when he could, made things as difficult as possible. He was faster than any of them realized, slipping past their grasp just when they thought they had him completely under control. But he knew deep down that speed alone wasn’t enough to escape, not yet.

Sonic leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling slowly. A voice echoed in his head, distant but persistent. We can see the sky together, like I promised.

He squeezed his eyes shut. It had been so long since he had last seen him. Subject 170… Shadow.

Where was he now? Was he even alive?

Sonic had stopped asking that question out loud years ago. The one time he had, the agents and scientists both laughed at him.

“You’re better off forgetting him. Subject 170 was never meant to last.”

Sonic had punched the glass between them so hard that his knuckles bled.

And yet, even now, he could still feel it—that pull, that unshakable feeling that Shadow was still out there. Somewhere.

Waiting.

A dim red glow illuminated the edges of Shadow’s vision as he sat motionless in the middle of his containment cell. The heavy cuffs around his wrists hummed with faint energy suppression fields, and the inhibitor rings on his wrists and ankles were locked in place, their control absolute. He exhaled slowly, evenly, controlling his breathing the way they had trained him to.

He had learned long ago that resistance was futile. That outbursts would get him nowhere.

So he had stopped fighting.

Not because they had broken him. No, they had only sharpened him, refined him. The pain, the conditioning, the training—it had all stripped away the weakness that had once held him back. The doubts. The misplaced trust.

The memories.

The memories of him.

Sonic.

The name still lingered at the edges of his mind like a phantom, but it no longer carried warmth. No longer sparked anything but cold resentment.

Nine years. Nine years of isolation. Nine years of being told the truth.

The truth about how Sonic had abandoned him. How he had turned his back on Shadow, left him to rot in this facility while he ran free. How Sonic had always been the scientists’ real favorite—the perfect specimen, the obedient one, the golden child.

The one who had betrayed him.

Shadow had resisted the idea at first, clinging to the fragmented images in his head—of whispered promises beneath a flickering light, of reaching for a hand that had once tried to pull him from the darkness.

We can see the sky together, like I promised.

Like I promised.

But the scientists had been patient. They had shown him the footage, played back the moments that told the real story.

Sonic had left him.

Had walked away while Shadow had been dragged deeper into the experiment.

Had chosen freedom for himself over saving him.

And now, after all these years, Sonic was coming back.

Not to help. Not to fix what he had done.

But to finish the job.

Shadow had listened carefully when the scientists had told him. “Subject 171 is returning. He’s been working with us for years, you know. He never even looked for you.”

A lie. Shadow should have known it was a lie. But the more they told him, the more it felt like the truth. They said Sonic had never fought like Shadow had, never resisted. He had cooperated, trained separately, followed orders while Shadow suffered in isolation.

“He’s stronger than you now. We trained him well. He’s been waiting for this fight.”

Shadow had clenched his fists at that.

The last time he had seen Sonic, they had been equals—two children trying to survive a nightmare together. But that had been a lie, too, hadn’t it? Sonic had never been his ally. He had been his competition.

The scientists had smiled at him as they delivered the final blow.

“You’ll be facing him in the final synchronization test. A battle to prove who is truly superior.”

“Think of it as a mercy, Subject 170.”

“You’ll finally see him for what he really is.”

Shadow had said nothing.

But inside, something cold and sharp coiled within him.

Sonic had left him.

It didn’t matter that the memories didn’t always align, that something deep within him screamed that the puzzle pieces didn’t quite fit. The scientists had trained him to silence that voice. To see things clearly.

And the truth was clear.

Sonic had been his first mistake.

And Shadow would never make that mistake again.

He had spent the past nine years becoming what he was meant to be—a weapon. The chaos within him had been tempered, shaped into something precise. Every fight, every test, every ounce of pain had only made him stronger. He was no longer a child searching for purpose. He had a purpose.

And soon, he would prove it.

The restraints on his arms tightened slightly as the energy suppressors adjusted, ensuring he remained stable. The scientists monitored him constantly, making sure he never became too strong, that he never exceeded their control. His inhibitor rings were their failsafe. They never let him forget that.

But they had underestimated him.

They thought they had shaped him into their perfect weapon, their obedient soldier.

But Shadow had his own plans.

He would not remain a prisoner forever. And when the time came, when the facility no longer had use for him—he would show them the depths of their mistake.

And when he saw Sonic again—

He would make sure he would never run away again.

The facility’s alarms blared suddenly, the sharp sound cutting through the cold silence of both their cells. Sonic’s head snapped up, muscles tensing instinctively, while Shadow merely opened his eyes, unmoving but alert.

A voice cracked over the intercom, cold and clinical.

“Subjects 170 and 171—prepare for final synchronization test.”

Sonic’s blood ran cold.

Shadow merely exhaled, slow and steady.

The guards arrived at both their doors at the same time. Sonic fought against the restraints as they locked around his wrists, thrashing as they dragged him forward. He wasn’t going to make this easy for them. He never did and he wouldn’t start now.

Shadow, on the other hand, didn’t resists. He had to reason to. The final test was finally here. The moment he had been waiting for.

As they were escorted through the cold, steel corridors of the facility once more, the air itself seemed heavier. Tension coiled in Sonic’s chest, a sick sense of inevitability settling over him. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know who he was about to face.

And then their paths crossed.

For the first time in nine years, their eyes met.

Sonic inhaled sharpy, barely recognizing the person standing before him. Shadow was taller, stronger, his once-soft features hardening into something sharp, something unreadable. But his eyes—his eyes—were filled with something Sonic had never seen before, not even when they fought previously.

Hate.

Sonic’s stomach twisted. “Shadow…?”

Shadow said nothing. His gaze was cold, piercing through sonic like he wasn’t even worth the acknowledgement.

And then, before Sonic could utter another word, they were thrown into the massive, reinforced testing chamber. The ground still showed signs from their last battle, the air itself hummed with the faint pulse of the machines monitoring them.

The observation deck loomed high above the combat chamber, bathed in the sterile glow of holographic monitors. A dozen screens displayed real-time biometric readings, energy fluctuations, and neural responses from both test subjects. The reinforced glass overlooked the arena below, where Subjects 170 and 171 were about to face each other for the first time in nine years.

Commander Towers stood with his arms crossed, watching impassively as the final preparations were made. The hum of machines filled the room, the soft flicker of data streaming across the displays illuminating the gathered scientists.

"Begin final analysis," Towers ordered.

One of the lead scientists, a thin man with sharp eyes and a perpetually unreadable expression, stepped forward. "Subjects are reaching optimal conditions 170’s Chaos energy remains volatile but contained within the limits of his inhibitor rings. 171’s speed fluctuations are higher than usual, but his kinetic output is stable enough for combat."

"Stable enough isn’t good enough,*" Towers said coldly. "This is the final phase. We need definitive results."

The scientist nodded, adjusting a panel of dials. "Both subjects have exceeded all previous endurance tests. We’ve pushed them as far as we can in isolation. Now, we determine the true variable once again—" his lips curled into a knowing smirk, "—how they respond to one another under extreme conditions."

Towers remained silent for a moment, glancing at the data. The numbers told him everything he needed to know. The years of separation, the psychological conditioning, the physical enhancement—it had all led to this moment.

"For nearly a decade," Towers began, his voice smooth and methodical, "we have studied their abilities in controlled environments. We have harvested their energy, refined their potential, broken them down and rebuilt them into what they are now. But individually, they still hold limitations." He turned to the scientists, his expression unreadable. "This final synchronization test is the answer."

"You still believe they’re better together?" One of the researchers frowned, shifting nervously. "That seems... contradictory. Separating them has given us our most consistent results. If anything, reuniting them poses a risk of destabilization—"

"Exactly," Towers cut in, his gaze sharp. "That’s the point."

The scientist hesitated, confused.

"We don’t just want to measure their abilities," Towers continued, pacing slowly. "We want to push them to the absolute breaking point. We want to see what happens when they are pushed past every limit, forced to collide." He turned, eyeing the data with a calculating gaze. "They were created under the same experiment. Their powers—speed and chaos—are two opposing forces, yet intrinsically connected. The energy signatures they emit when in conflict are unlike anything we’ve recorded."

He looked back at the combat chamber, where Subjects 171 and 170 were being led inside. "That is what we are testing today. Not just their individual strengths..." His lips curled slightly. "But the true potential of their combined energy. What happens when 171’s speed—raw, limitless kinetic force—meets 170’s Chaos energy—uncontrolled, violent, and unpredictable?"

A different scientist, a woman seated at the central console, frowned as she examined the data more closely. "Commander, their readings are already volatile, especially 170’s. If their energy collides at the wrong frequency—*"

"We monitor and adjust as needed," Towers said dismissively. "We allow the natural escalation and step in before it becomes uncontainable."

"And if it does become uncontainable?"

Towers exhaled sharply, turning his back to them. "Then we will have our answer."

The room fell into silence, the only sounds the beeping of monitors and the faint vibrations of the facility’s cooling systems.

"Sir," another scientist spoke up, warily eyeing the rising power levels, "this is dangerous. We don’t fully understand the upper limits of their combined energy output. If their synchronization spirals out of control, we could be looking at an event far beyond our containment capacity."

Towers remained quiet for a long moment. Then, calmly, he said, "Then let’s hope they kill each other before that happens."

The chamber doors sealed shut. The restraints were removed.

And the fight began.

The restraints clicked off. The intercom crackled.

“Begin.”

Shadow moved first, because of course he did.

Sonic barely had time to react before a blast of Chaos energy tore toward him, narrowly missing as he leapt back, heat searing past his cheek. The impact of the attack left a crater in the “reinforced” floor.

“Whoa—hey!” Sonic dodged as another attack came, this time a brutal kick aimed straight for his ribs. “Shadow, what the hell—?!”

Shadow didn’t respond. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t stop.

His movements were precise, relentless, designed to kill.

Sonic barely had time to dodge before Shadow was on him again, his speed almost matching Sonic’s own. His Chaos-fueled strikes were faster, stronger, sharper than Sonic remembered. There were no taunts, no hesitation.

Just pure, unfiltered aggression.

Sonic’s stomach clenched as he twisted out of the way, skidding across the ground. “Shadow, listen to me!”

“You don’t get to say my name.”

The venom in his voice was like ice in Sonic’s veins. It sent a shiver down his spine, but it also ignited a knot of panic in his chest. This wasn’t Shadow—the Shadow he knew, the one who would joke and argue with him, the one who’d promised to always be by his side. No, this Shadow was angry. This Shadow was a weapon, a tool for destruction, and it was all Sonic’s fault.

Nine years ago, the cell was too cold. Their thin blankets did nothing against the chill. Sonic shivered, curling into himself, but the warmth never came.

Then, a small movement. A shift in the dark. Shadow, hesitating for only a moment, before pressing closer, his body curling slightly against Sonic’s.

Sonic didn’t question it. He didn’t say a word.

He just held on tighter.

Sonic’s chest tightened, his heart pounding in his ears. “Shadow—please, this isn’t you. You have to listen—”

“I’ve been listening for years, Sonic!” Shadow’s voice cracked like thunder as he lunged, a fist driving into Sonic’s side. “I listened to their lies! I listened to you—” He punched again, his knuckles digging deep into Sonic’s ribs, making the hedgehog cry out in pain. “And I waited. I waited and waited for you to come back!”

Sonic gasped, the wind knocked out of him. “Shadow—please, I—” His voice broke, and he stumbled back, clutching his side. Blood stained his fur. The pain was nothing compared to the agony in his chest. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight as Shadow’s eyes glowed with raw fury.

“You abandoned me! You left me in this hellhole to rot while you got to run free! You left me behind, Sonic!” Shadow roared, his voice shaking with a rage that burned deeper than any wound.

Sonic’s eyes stung, tears welling up despite himself. He wiped his face quickly, but it didn’t stop the overwhelming sorrow that gripped him. “No, I didn’t! I never wanted to—” He choked on his words, his throat tightening as he stumbled backward, desperation clawing at him. “You have to believe me—everything I did, I did it for you, Shadow. I promised—”

“Promised?” Shadow scoffed, his voice dripping with bitterness. “You promised? How is this a promise, huh? You didn’t even look back! You let them keep me. You didn’t even try to stop them!”

Sonic’s breath hitched. The words felt like daggers lodged deep in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t explain. The weight of his guilt crushed him with every strike Shadow delivered.

“I never abandoned you!” Sonic shouted, barely able to stay on his feet. His legs were shaking, his heart racing. “I don’t know what they told you, but they lied!” He dodged another furious punch, his body moving on pure instinct now.

Shadow’s expression twisted into something darker than Sonic had ever seen. “Lied?!” His Chaos energy flared wildly, crackling around him with ferocious intensity. “You don’t get to call me a liar!”

Sonic’s limbs trembled, his muscles burning from the effort of staying ahead of Shadow’s relentless assault. Every move was instinct, fueled by a desperation to survive, to reach him. He wasn’t just fighting for his life, he was fighting for his friend, for the bond that was slipping through his fingers like sand.

The ground trembled beneath their feet as the sheer force of their attacks collided. Sonic’s ears rang with the sound of clashing energy, but the true noise was the pounding in his chest. The sound of everything they had been, everything they had fought for, coming undone.

The chamber trembled, the walls cracking as they fought, the lights flickering. Alarms shrieked.

“I didn’t abandon you, Shadow!” Sonic shouted, tears streaming down his face, his voice raw. “Please, just listen to me—”

“Shut up!” Shadow bellowed, his voice a roar of pure, unfiltered rage. He lunged, a Chaos-infused fist colliding with Sonic’s jaw. The impact sent him spiraling backward, the world spinning as pain flooded his body. His vision blurred, but through the haze, he saw Shadow’s face. There was no recognition, no warmth, just an empty, burning rage.

Sonic’s heart shattered. “Shadow-”

Before he could finish, Shadow was on him again, a violent storm of fists and energy. Each strike made Sonic’s body scream. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he tried to block, tried to fight back, but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a single hand.

“Why didn’t you come back?!” Shadow screamed, his voice cracked with emotion. “Why did you leave me there to suffer alone?”

Sonic couldn’t answer. He couldn’t think. The room was spinning, his body felt heavy, and yet all he could hear was Shadow’s voice, breaking him from the inside.

“I’m sorry,” Sonic whispered, his voice trembling as he fought to stand. “I’m so sorry, Shadow… I never wanted to hurt you… I never wanted to leave you behind.”

But Shadow didn’t hear him.

He didn’t want to hear him.

And suddenly, Sonic realized, Shadow wasn’t in control.

His power was overflowing, crackling around him in erratic bursts. His Chaos energy was reacting violently, more unstable than Sonic had ever seen.

But Sonic wasn’t much better.

His own body felt off. His speed wasn’t right, it was reacting too fast, moving on instinct rather than intent. Every breath he took felt charged, erratic, like he was pushing past his natural limits without meaning or trying to.

The machines in the chamber buzzed with warning signals as the lightning crackled around Sonic.

The scientists were watching, adjusting. Pushing them further.

Shadow collided with Sonic once more, speed clashing against chaos, and the energy rippling between them sent another shockwave through the chamber.

The lights flickered.

The warning sirens screamed.

The energy levels weren’t stabilizing.

They were escalating.

And then—

Nine years ago, Shadow sat in the corner of their cell, knees drawn to his chest, fists clenched. Sonic watched him, heart aching.

“They said I’ll be strong enough soon,” Shadow whispered. “That I won’t need you anymore.”

Sonic swallowed. “That’s not true.”

Shadow looked up, eyes vulnerable. “Promise?”

Sonic didn’t hesitate. He reached out, resting a hand over Shadow’s.

“I promise.”

And now, years later, as the chamber exploded in light, in power, in chaos

Sonic realized he had broken it, Shadow didn’t need him anymore.

The world around them was crumbling, alarms screeching as the reinforced walls of the chamber began to fracture under the force of their collision. Shadow stumbled, his Chaos energy flickering wildly, his body swaying from the strain.

Sonic, barely holding himself together, took a step forward. His vision blurred, limbs heavy, exhaustion weighing him down like chains, but he reached out anyway.

"Shadow…"

Shadow’s crimson eyes snapped to him, wide, uncertain. The chaos around them swallowed everything, but for a fleeting moment, there was nothing but them.

Sonic’s fingers brushed against Shadow’s wrist.

Then, his strength gave out.

His legs buckled, his body crumpling before he could say another word. Darkness rushed in, the sounds of destruction fading as Sonic finally succumbed to exhaustion, falling unconscious at Shadow’s feet.

The battle started as they had expected—171 resisting, 170’s relentless. But within minutes, the readings began to spike.

"Commander," a scientist said urgently, "the energy levels are increasing exponentially. 170’s Chaos energy is destabilizing, and 171’s speed output is going beyond predicted ranges—*"

"Increase suppression on Subject 170," Towers ordered.

"It’s not working! His inhibitor rings are active, but his Chaos energy is compensating, adjusting—!*"

"And Subject 171?"

"His movements are accelerating past safe thresholds! If this continues—"

A warning siren blared.

The air inside the chamber crackled as the two hedgehogs clashed again, a shockwave rippling outward.

"Commander, we need to shut it down!"

Towers’ jaw clenched as he watched the readings surge. The machines couldn’t keep up. This was no longer a controlled escalation.

This was chaos.

And then—

The monitors flickered and went dark.

A final, violent collision between 171’s uncontainable speed and 170’s raw, unstable Chaos energy ripped through the facility in a blinding explosion of force.

The reinforced glass of the observation deck shattered. The lights failed. Alarms screamed throughout the facility.

And for the first time in nine years, Towers felt fear.

Everything had just gone horribly, horribly wrong.

The room was silent but for the faint hum of the facility’s machinery. The cold concrete floor beneath them was unforgiving, and the air smelled of metal and sterile discontent. But for once, there was no clanging of chains or shouting from the guards. The tests were over for the day, and Sonic and Shadow were left to their own thoughts.

They sat side by side, their backs resting against the wall, close but not touching. The familiar ache of bruises and exhaustion pulled at their muscles, but it was a peaceful sort of pain. The kind that came after surviving another round of experiments, when there was nothing left but the quiet.

Sonic fidgeted, not the type to sit still for long. He ran a hand through his quills, glancing at Shadow out of the corner of his eye. Shadow had been quieter than usual today, his eyes distant, and for a moment, Sonic almost wondered if he had gone too far with his attempts to lift the mood earlier. But he wasn’t about to let it go. Not when they silence felt like a weight.

“So, Shadow,” Sonic began, voice low but steady, “have you ever thought about what you’d do, y’know, after all this?”

Shadow didn’t answer right away. He shifted slightly, drawing his knees up to his chest, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. His gaze was fixed on the floor in front of him, lost in thought. Sonic had always found comfort in talking about escape, about freedom—the idea of a world beyond these walls, being free again—but Shadow? He never spoke much about it.

After a long pause, Shadow exhaled softly. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice almost incomprehensible. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. I was made for this. For them.”

Sonic frowned, pushing himself off the wall and turning toward Shadow, his usual bright demeanor momentarily dimmed by the solemnity of the answer. "Doesn't mean you have to be stuck here forever. You could do anything when we get out, Shadow. You could be anyone." He paused, his lips quirking up just a little. "Heck, you could be a hero!"

Shadow gave him a sideways glance, the corners of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. “Hero?” He repeated with an almost mocking tone. “Not sure I’d be good at that.”

Sonic’s smile softened, not quite as teasing this time. “Why not? You’ve got the power, the will… all you need is a chance.” He lowered his voice to a more serious note. “You’re stronger than you think.”

A small silence stretched between them, one that wasn’t uncomfortable, but thoughtful. Sonic could feel the weight of Shadow’s quiet, felt it deep in his chest, the way it pulled at him.

He wanted to break it. He wanted to fill it with something that would make Shadow see that there was more than just these walls, that there was a world beyond them. A world they could run through together, free of the tests, free of the chains.

Sonic sat back against the wall, his arms folding behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “You know, in my head, it’s always the same—there’s this place, out there… fields of grass, real grass, not that fake stuff we’ve seen in the tests. A real sky. We run, just run, and it’s endless. No walls. No scientists. Just… freedom.”

Shadow’s eyes flickered to him, and for a moment, Sonic thought he saw something, something almost soft. But Shadow quickly masked it, looking away again, his expression still guarded.

“That’s a nice thought,” Shadow muttered, but his voice had lost its usual hardness, something in it… lighter, almost wistful.

“Yeah,” Sonic agreed, his voice softer now, “I think it’s more than just a thought. I think we can make it real. Just gotta get out of here, right?”

There was a long pause, but this time it didn’t feel like an empty silence. It was a silence that hummed with something else, something unspoken but understood.

Shadow’s shoulders shifted, and he finally spoke, his tone quieter, almost uncertain. “Promise me, Sonic. Promise me we’ll get out. Promise me we’ll see that sky together, like you said.”

Sonic’s heart clenched at the words. Without hesitation, he reached over, resting a hand on Shadow’s arm. It was a simple gesture—something they had shared many times before, a silent bond that meant more than words. He squeezed gently, looking straight into Shadow’s eyes.

“I promise,” Sonic said, his voice steady, unwavering. “I’ll get us out, Shadow. And when we’re free, we’ll see the sky. Together.”

For a moment, there was no fighting, no tests, no plans. Just two hedgehogs, sitting side by side, lost in a world of possibilities they could almost touch.

Chapter Text

Sonic’s head throbbed like a drumbeat, the pulsing pain clawing at his consciousness. His limbs felt heavy, as if they were made of stone. His body ached in places he didn’t even know existed, every movement a struggle against the weight of exhaustion and the unfamiliar sting of brokenness, and he thought the experiments were the most painful things he experienced.

The world around him was a blur of flashes, bright lights flickering in and out, the deafening shriek of alarms echoing from somewhere distant, and the choking scent of burning metal and dust. A deep groan rumbled through the rubble beneath him as the ground shifted, settling after the violent explosion.

His mind fought to catch up with reality, but the air was thick, heavy with the smoke of destruction, and the muffled sounds of a crumbling world. His eyes fluttered open, the world spinning as he tried to focus, tried to make sense of what had happened.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sharp sting of reality. The fight. The crash. Shadow… and the blast.

The memories flooded back in fragments—fury, betrayal, Chaos energy clashing against speed. And then… nothing.

Sonic’s heart clenched, panic rising in his chest as he pushed against the rubble that pinned him. His arms trembled, useless beneath the weight that crushed him. His breath was shallow, labored, and every time he tried to move, something sharp jabbed into his side, the pain a constant reminder that nothing was right.

"Shadow…?" he gasped, voice ragged and barely a whisper. But there was no answer—only the deafening silence that enveloped him like a thick blanket.

He tried to push himself up, but the weight was too much. The debris shifted, groaning beneath him as he gasped, struggling for air. His legs were trapped, twisted awkwardly under heavy slabs of concrete, and his arms—he couldn’t feel them properly, numb and aching from the strain.

The panic surged again, louder this time, a primal instinct to survive. To escape. To get free. But there was no way out.

Sonic’s head throbbed as his mind raced. The memories from the last moments before the explosion flickered like a broken film reel, Shadow’s furious face, the pure rage in his eyes, the energy that had erupted between them like a storm tearing apart everything in its path.

The entire facility had been brought to its knees.

He winced, blood trickling down his forehead, a mix of sweat and dirt stinging his eyes. The chamber had been devastated, walls cracking under the force of the explosion, machines buzzing erratically. The observation deck, shattered. The air was thick with the aftermath of chaos.

"Sonic…" A faint voice, barely audible, cut through the haze. He froze, the name slipping from his lips in a breathless rush.

The voice was so soft, he wasn’t sure if it had even been real. Maybe it was just the ringing in his ears, the remnants of his own thoughts bleeding through the silence. His heart thundered as he strained to listen, hoping—praying—that it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him.

The rubble above him shifted again, a crack splitting the concrete as a piece of debris broke loose. Sonic gritted his teeth and pulled at the rubble, his movements sluggish but determined.

His eyes widened when he spotted something in the dust, a shadow moving. A figure. Was it—? No, it couldn’t be.

"S-Sonic," the voice came again, clearer this time, though strained and weak.

It was Shadow.

Sonic’s chest tightened, the weight of his body shifting in the rubble as he froze, disbelief flooding through him. “Shadow?” His voice cracked, hoarse from the dust and the wreckage. “Shadow, where are you? Are you okay?”

His breath hitched as he tried to shift the debris, struggling to free himself. His legs burned with every motion, his body refusing to cooperate, the exhaustion too great. But the thought of Shadow, he had to find him. He had to know if he was okay.

The rubble shifted once more, and Sonic forced himself to sit up, pushing through the pain, his breath coming faster, erratic.

There, amidst the twisted metal and shattered glass, he saw him.

Shadow. His body was half buried, his limbs twisted beneath rubble, his breathing shallow. His eyes were barely open, glowing faintly in the darkness of the wreckage. Sonic could barely make out the silhouette of his former friend, but the sheer relief that surged through him hit like a punch to the gut.

“Shadow!” Sonic yelled, his voice urgent and desperate, stumbling his way to the hedgehog. "Hang on, I’m getting you out of here."

His hands shook as he pushed the rubble off of Shadow, his fingers digging into the debris as he tried to clear the way. His body screamed in protest, but he didn’t care. Not now. Nothing mattered except getting Shadow free, getting them both out of this mess.

The rubble shifted, cracking beneath his hands. Shadow’s body twitched weakly, his face grimacing as he shifted slightly, his mouth barely moving.

"You… you did this," Shadow whispered, his voice hoarse and full of quiet fury.

Sonic froze. The words hit harder than any physical blow he had endured, but it wasn’t the time to fall apart. Not now. Not like this.

“Shadow…” Sonic’s voice trembled, but he didn’t know how to respond. What could he say?

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, filled with all the things they hadn’t said, all the things that had been left unresolved.

“Hold on,” Sonic whispered, pulling harder at the debris, his body growing weaker with each passing second.

The world outside was a mess—a wreck. But right now, there was only Shadow and Sonic, trapped in the aftermath of an explosion that had shattered more than just their physical world.

Sonic’s hands were slick with blood and dust, his breath coming in labored gasps as he clawed at the rubble, shoving aside twisted metal and shattered concrete. Every movement sent waves of pain radiating through his battered body, but he ignored it. All that mattered was Shadow.

The seconds stretched into eternity, but Sonic’s determination never wavered. He pulled at the debris with desperate force, his muscles burning, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. His mind was fixated on the faint, barely audible groans that came from beneath the wreckage—each one a lifeline, a sign that Shadow was still alive.

Finally, with a loud crack, the last of the concrete slab shifted, and the weight pinning Shadow’s body was lifted.

Sonic fell back, gasping for air, his head spinning from the effort. He blinked through the dust, eyes watering, and there, beneath the twisted ruins of their prison, lay Shadow. His body was motionless, his breathing shallow, but the faint rise and fall of his chest was enough to keep Sonic from losing hope.

Sonic crawled over to him, trembling with exhaustion as he gently turned Shadow onto his back, careful not to cause further injury. Shadow’s eyes were closed, his face pale, his body covered in cuts and bruises from the explosion. His black-and-red quills were matted with dirt and blood, and Sonic’s heart ached as he looked down at his friend. No, his former friend?

He could barely focus on the thoughts clouding his mind. The weight of the past nine years had been a heavy burden on both of them, but right now, there was only Shadow.

“Shadow,” Sonic muttered softly, his voice shaking as he reached out to touch his face, brushing the debris off his cheek. His hands trembled as he gently wiped away the dirt, his heart pounding in his ears. “Hey, wake up... please.”

For a moment, there was nothing—no response. Sonic’s breath caught in his throat as panic bubbled up. But then, just as his heart sank, Shadow’s eyelids fluttered. His body twitched, and a weak groan escaped his lips.

Sonic leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Come on, Shadow. You’ve gotta wake up. I can’t lose you now.”

Shadow’s lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak. His eyes remained closed, and Sonic’s chest tightened in fear. He reached down and grabbed Shadow’s wrist, pressing his fingers against the pulse point, desperate to feel something, anything, alive.

He felt it. A steady beat. A heartbeat.

Relief flooded through Sonic in waves, but it was short-lived. He still needed to get them out of here. They had to escape, or everything they had fought for would be lost.

Sonic adjusted his position, trying to lift Shadow into his arms, but his own legs were shaking with exhaustion. He was barely holding it together, but he couldn’t give up. Not when they were so close.

As he shifted, a sudden wetness streaked down his cheek. At first, he thought it was sweat, the relentless heat of the explosion still lingering in the air. But then he felt it again, cool, almost soothing against the burning heat of his skin. His fingers instinctively touched his face, and when he looked down, his hand was covered in dark, streaking moisture. He froze, his heart skipping a beat.

He looked up.

And there it was—the sky.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sonic saw the sky. The blue above him was vast and endless, stretching out like a canvas that had been hidden for so long. The sun pierced through the cloud of smoke and dust, casting pale rays of golden light across the shattered ruins of the facility. The sky seemed to welcome him, offering a contrast to the chaos below.

It wasn’t perfect. The air was still thick with smoke, and the world was a wreck, nothing was as it should be. But it was the sky. The real sky.

And Sonic... he couldn't help it. He smiled.

But then, reality came rushing back like a crashing wave. He looked down at Shadow, still unconscious in his arms, the boy’s fragile form cradled against him like something precious, something that had been lost and found in the most unlikely of places. Sonic’s smile faded, replaced by the weight of everything they had endured, everything they had sacrificed.

Sonic’s hand still lingered on his cheek, the moisture from the sky mixing with the dirt and grime of the battle. The tears that had welled up in his eyes blurred his vision, but he didn’t wipe them away. The sky. The freedom that had seemed so out of reach. It felt like it was all slipping through his fingers, a fleeting moment of hope that threatened to vanish the instant he looked away.

"I’m sorry, Shadow..." Sonic whispered, his voice breaking. "I promised you... I promised we’d see this together. Just hold on. Please hold on."

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the weight of his guilt all over again. Every moment of pain they’d both endured, every moment that had brought them to this, felt like it was pressing down on him. But even in that weight, there was the sky. And as long as there was still the sky, there was still hope.

With a deep breath, Sonic stood, his legs unsteady beneath him. The rubble around them seemed endless, but the sky above seemed endless too. He couldn’t give up now.

He shifted Shadow carefully, cradling him in his arms. He didn’t know where they’d go, or how they would get out of this mess, but he was determined to find a way.

“I’ll get us out, Shadow," Sonic said through gritted teeth, his voice filled with both sorrow and resolve. "I promise.”

And as he started moving, the broken world around them remained silent. The sky above remained wide and open, full of possibilities.

But first, they had to survive.

The weight of Shadow in his arms was a constant reminder of how fragile everything felt. Sonic’s muscles screamed from exhaustion, his body heavy with the strain of moving through the ruins of the destroyed facility, blood matted his fur. But he kept going, one step, then another. Each movement was a struggle, each breath an effort.

The sky above them was still there, faint and distant through the smoke, but it was there. It had to be their way out. They couldn’t stay here.

The facility was a wreck, walls cracked, glass shattered, smoke billowing up from the remains of their prison. Every corner felt like it was about to collapse. The chaos of the explosion had fractured everything, and yet the night air outside felt surreal. The cool breeze that touched Sonic’s face was something he hadn’t felt in so long. It wasn’t fresh, not yet, but it was real. Sonic briefly thought of any other potential subjects caught in the crossfire, but quickly shook the thought from his head.

His ears twitched as he heard a loud horn in the distance, but Sonic’s mind only raced with questions. Would they make it? Would they be spotted? How long did they have before the authorities showed up? He couldn’t let Shadow down now, not after everything. He’d promised.

His legs felt like lead, each step more painful than the last. But he couldn’t stop. Not now. He pushed forward, sweat dripping down his face, heart thudding with both panic and hope.

As he approached the edge of the facility, or the lack thereof, he stopped short, ducking behind a pile of rubble. His breath hitched as he spotted something in the distance—a large cargo ship, docked at the harbor, the engines already rumbling in preparation for departure. It was their chance, but the clock was ticking.

Sonic’s pulse quickened. This was it—their chance. But they didn’t have much time. The ship was going to leave soon.

But then, his gaze shifted. And for a brief moment, the sight of the water stopped him dead in his tracks.

The dock. The endless stretch of ocean.

A familiar chill crawled up Sonic’s spine. His mind immediately flashed to the experiments—the machines, the water, the endless tests. The cold grip of the water against his skin. The feeling of drowning, of being trapped, of being helpless and at the mercy of those who held all the power.

His breath caught in his throat. His chest tightened as the panic surged, memories flooding in like a torrent he couldn’t control. His legs felt like jelly, and for a split second, it felt like he was back in those dark, suffocating experiments.

No. He couldn’t, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let the water break him again. Not now.

Sonic gripped Shadow tighter in his arms, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to steady his breath. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, the world spinning. The fear was overwhelming, but he pushed it back, forced it down. He couldn’t afford to fall apart—not when they were so close. He wouldn’t let it take him.

Breathe. Breathe, Sonic.

He forced himself to take slow, deliberate breaths, grounding himself, ignoring the pounding of his heart. The fear didn’t matter. Shadow didn’t deserve to be left behind. Sonic wasn’t going to stop. Not now. Not ever.

He opened his eyes, and the ship was still there, still waiting. The panic was fading, slowly but surely, but the urgency remained. They had to move. They had to make it.

Sonic swallowed, his throat dry. “Come on, Sonic. Focus,” he muttered to himself, glancing down at Shadow, whose body still hung limply in his arms. There was no time to waste. The ship would leave soon.

He couldn’t risk being spotted. If they were caught now, they were as good as dead. The guards were likely still scrambling to get control of the facility, and the last thing he needed was an entire search team on their tail.

Sonic’s mind raced as he formulated a plan. The docks weren’t far, but there was no guarantee the ship would wait long. The workers milling around, loading crates onto the ship, were too close for comfort. He would have to be careful, every second counted.

He dashed toward the shadows, his speed blurring his movements, taking care to keep low and unseen. The cargo ship was close now, but it was surrounded by guards and dock workers. He ducked behind a stack of crates, glancing around for any sign of trouble.

He couldn’t let himself be seen. Not with Shadow unconscious. Sonic’s heart raced as he shifted his grip on Shadow, adjusting his hold and staying low, keeping them both hidden behind the crates. The ship was just ahead, its massive hull looming like a dark shadow against the dimming sky.

But then, a guard appeared around the corner, his flashlight cutting through the darkness. Sonic froze, holding his breath. He knew that if the guard saw them, they would never make it to the ship. The tension in the air was suffocating. Sonic’s eyes darted around, searching for a way out, and then he saw it. A small gap between two crates leading to the ship’s lower deck.

He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Shadow, sprinting with all the speed he had left. His legs screamed in protest, but his focus remained sharp. He darted through the gap, barely squeezing past the guard, who was still walking in the other direction, unaware of the danger just inches away. Sonic’s pulse pounded in his ears as he slipped into the shadows beneath the ship.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. No one had noticed. The guard was still too far to have seen them, and the workers were busy unloading crates.

Sonic’s breath came in ragged gasps as he found a small alcove in the ship’s lower deck, hidden from sight. He collapsed against the wall, still holding Shadow close, his heart thudding in his chest.

They were safe, for now.

Sonic took a moment to catch his breath, feeling the weight of everything that had happened crashing down on him. The explosion, the escape, the uncertainty of what would happen next, it all felt like a blur. But the one thing that remained clear was the promise he had made to Shadow.

He gently lowered Shadow onto the floor of the alcove, checking for signs of injury again. His body was bruised, battered, but there were no immediate signs of life-threatening wounds. Sonic’s fingers brushed through Shadow’s quills, making sure he was still breathing, and then he focused on their next step.

“We’re almost there, Shadow,” Sonic muttered, his voice low. “Just hold on. Just a little longer.”

He peeked around the corner, watching as the dock workers moved back and forth, unloading crates, unaware of the fugitives in their midst. Sonic’s eyes narrowed as he calculated their next move. They were close to the ship’s hold, but there was still the risk of being caught. The workers wouldn’t stop for a few more minutes, and he needed to wait for the right time to move.

The minutes ticked by like hours. Sonic couldn’t afford to make a single mistake. His hands were shaking, his thoughts scattered with everything that could go wrong. But he knew he couldn’t stop. Not until they were safe.

Finally, the ship’s engines roared to life, and the workers began to pull away. The ship was setting sail.

“Now or never,” Sonic muttered, standing up cautiously. He crouched low, lifting Shadow once more, careful not to jostle him too much. The last thing he needed was for Shadow to wake up and panic. They needed to make it to the lower cargo hold before the ship set off.

The ship’s hold was only a few steps away. Sonic darted across the deck, slipping past workers who were now focused on the ship’s departure. He made it to the hatch, his heart pounding in his chest.

He threw open the hatch and slipped inside, the darkness of the hold swallowing them whole. He found a quiet corner to hide, collapsing on the cold metal floor, his breath steadying at last. They had made it. The worst was over. For now.

But Sonic knew they weren’t safe yet. The ship was headed to a new port, and they’d have to figure out what to do once they got there. But for the first time in a long time, Sonic allowed himself a moment of relief.

He looked down at Shadow, his body limp in his arms, and he whispered softly, “We’re free, Shadow. We’re free.”

And as the ship slowly pulled away from the island, leaving the wreckage of the facility behind, Sonic could finally allow himself to believe it: They had escaped.

As he shifted, his body groaned in protest, the sharp, stinging pain in his side flaring up again. Sonic’s eyes squeezed shut as the realization hit him: the gash from when the rubble had collapsed on him was deeper than he'd thought. The adrenaline had masked the pain for a while, but now, in the quiet of the hold, the reality was settling in.

He winced, his hand instinctively going to his stomach. His fingers pressed against the torn skin beneath his fur, feeling the sticky warmth of the blood that had soaked it. The wound wasn’t fatal, but it could be. His breath hitched slightly as he took in the sting, the reminder of just how close to death they had both been. The explosion, the collapse… he had barely made it out alive, let alone with Shadow.

The pain was bad, but it wasn’t going to stop him. Not now.

Sonic’s hand lingered on the gash, pressing against it as if he could will the pain away. But then he looked down at Shadow, his resolve hardening again. The pain didn’t matter. Shadow mattered.

“We’re not done yet,” Sonic muttered, gritting his teeth. The sharpness of the gash was almost unbearable, but he couldn’t focus on that. Not now. Not when they were still in danger.

He shifted Shadow again, adjusting his position on the cold floor, but the pain in his side was starting to grow worse. His breathing grew more shallow as he struggled to ignore the weakness in his body. It was a struggle. Every breath felt like a burden now, but the promise still burned brightly in his chest.

He had to keep going. No matter the cost.

Sonic winced again, but this time, the pain in his stomach wasn’t as overwhelming. He had accepted it, at least for now. He could still move. He could still protect Shadow. That’s all that mattered.

As the ship’s engines hummed steadily beneath them, and the world outside began to fade away, Sonic rested his head against the metal wall. His eyes fluttered closed, the exhaustion finally catching up to him, but his grip on Shadow remained firm, unyielding.

"We’re free, Shadow," Sonic whispered again, his voice rough but filled with a quiet promise. "We’re getting out of here. I won’t let you down."

And as the ship sailed into the night, with the pain in his side a distant, throbbing reminder of what they'd survived, Sonic’s eyes finally closed. He wasn’t sure what would come next, but he was determined to face it. No matter what.

A dimly lit control room hummed with static as multiple screens flickered, casting eerie glows across the faces of the men stationed inside. The air was thick with tension, the quiet only broken by the rapid clicking of keyboards and the occasional murmur of voices speaking in hushed, urgent tones.

Commander Walters stood at the center of it all, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his sharp eyes locked onto the main screen in front of him. The satellite footage displayed nothing but smoke and fire—a once-hidden facility now reduced to a smoldering ruin. His jaw tightened.

The facility was gone. Their research. Their data. Their subjects.

His grip on his radio stiffened as the reports came flooding in through the comms.

"Unknown energy signature detected before explosion."
"Total structural collapse confirmed."
"Subjects 170 and 171 missing—presumed escaped."

Walters inhaled slowly, his fingers twitching over his earpiece. He had spent years making sure that facility remained off the grid, that its secrets never saw the light of day. And now, it had all come crashing down.

“Sir,” a soldier near the monitors spoke hesitantly, breaking the silence. “Orders?”

Walters didn’t respond right away. His mind was already working through possibilities, formulating countermeasures. He knew exactly who would want to hear about this.

Reaching for the encrypted line on his desk, he pressed a button. The line crackled before connecting.

A voice, distorted yet unmistakably smug, answered almost immediately.

“Commander Walters,” Dr. Ivo Robotnik drawled, his tone laced with amusement. “I do hope you’re not calling me at this ungodly hour for something trivial.”

Walters' expression remained stone-cold. “The experiment site—Facility X—is gone.”

There was a pause. Then, a slow chuckle. “Gone?” Robotnik repeated, feigning mild interest. “You’re telling me an entire top-secret facility just vanished?”

“Not vanished. Destroyed.” Walters ground his teeth, his voice clipped with frustration. “An explosion took out the entire structure. Both subjects are missing.”

That caught Robotnik’s full attention. His previous amusement evaporated. The faint hum of static filled the line for a beat before he spoke again.

“… Both subjects?”

Walters’ grip on the receiver tightened. “171. And 170.”

The silence that followed was chilling.

Then, Robotnik laughed.

Not a chuckle. Not a smirk. A full, delighted, wicked laugh that sent a shiver through the room.

“Well, well, well,” Robotnik mused, his voice practically dripping with glee. “I’d wondered when that little rodent would make a mess of things. And now he’s got a friend? Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Walters remained unmoved. “This isn’t a joke, Doctor. We need them contained before they cause more damage.”

Robotnik hummed thoughtfully. “You mean before they make it to civilization,” he corrected. “Before the world finds out about your little science project.”

Walters didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Robotnik was already ahead of him.

“I’ll handle it,” Robotnik continued, his voice taking on a sharp, calculating edge. “Find me their last trajectory, energy signatures, anything that tells me where they’re heading. And don’t waste my time again until you have something useful.”

The line went dead.

Walters exhaled sharply, his fists clenching at his sides. He turned back toward the screens, the smoldering wreckage of the facility still flickering in front of him.

“Get me a satellite feed,” he barked to his team. “I want eyes on every major port and airstrip within a hundred-mile radius. I want search teams deployed immediately.”

171  and 170 might have escaped tonight.

But it wouldn’t last.

Not for long.

Chapter Text

A sharp, violent force slammed into Sonic’s chest, ripping him from unconsciousness before he even knew where he was.

His eyes shot open just as his back collided with the cold metal floor, the impact sending a fresh jolt of agony through his battered body. His stomach wound burned like fire, nerves alight with unbearable pain, but there was no time to react.

Because the next hit came fast.

A fist crashed against his jaw. His head snapped to the side, pain flaring like a white-hot spark. Before he could even attempt to defend himself, a crushing weight pinned him down, legs straddling his torso, hands grabbing at his throat.

Sonic gasped, his vision swimming with the sudden assault. His mind was sluggish, still catching up to reality, flashes of memory flickered in his head. The ship. The escape. The wreckage.

But this? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Another hit, this time to his ribs. His breath hitched in his throat, his already-weak body barely able to react. The air inside the cargo hold was thick with dust and the lingering scent of salt and oil, but Sonic could barely focus on anything except the pain clawing through his bones.

His attacker’s breathing was ragged, sharp and furious.

"You think you can run from this?!"

The voice growled low and full of venom, and Sonic’s sluggish brain finally pieced together the figure above him.

Shadow.

But it wasn’t the Shadow he had pulled from the rubble, the one he had risked everything to save.

No, this Shadow was feral. His eyes burned like molten embers, his teeth bared in an animalistic snarl. His chest heaved with the weight of his fury, and the pressure of his grip was anything but controlled. There was no hesitation, no restraint, just pure aggression.

And Sonic was too weak to stop him.

Sonic tried to speak, but Shadow didn’t give him the chance. His hand shot forward, gripping Sonic’s throat and slamming his head back against the floor with enough force to make his skull rattle.

Sonic gasped as his vision blurred.

"Sh-Shadow-?" he rasped, his voice barely escaping past the weight on his windpipe.

But Shadow didn’t falter. If anything, his grip tightened.

"You left me there!" Shadow spat, voice shaking between rage and something dangerously close to grief. "You let them take me! You let them-"

He cut himself off, as if the words physically hurt to say. His fingers clenched harder.

Sonic choked.

His legs weakly kicked out, instincts screaming for him to fight, to move, to breathe, but his body wasn’t cooperating. Every muscle in him was deadweight, heavy with exhaustion. His energy had already been spent dragging them out of hell, and now there was nothing left.

But Shadow? Shadow still had rage.

A surge of panic clawed at Sonic’s chest. He couldn’t breathe. The ship’s hull blurred around him, his vision darkening at the edges as his limbs twitched uselessly beneath Shadow’s crushing weight.

This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t a nightmare. This was real.

Shadow was going to kill him.

Sonic’s body trembled as he weakly gripped at Shadow’s wrists, trying, begging, to loosen the hold, but his arms barely had the strength to push. His head swam. His thoughts felt distant, disconnected. His instincts screamed at him to do something, but—

He couldn’t fight back.

He wouldn’t.

Even if he had the strength, he wouldn’t hurt him.

Not after everything.

Not after nine years.

Shadow’s grip tightened again, and Sonic felt his body jolt in response. His mouth opened in a silent gasp, but no sound came.

His lungs burned.

Please, he didn’t want to die at the hands of his only friend, not after everything else.

He didn’t know if the words were directed at Shadow or the universe itself.

Sonic’s mind reeled, panic overriding all rational thought, drowning out the ache in his limbs and the searing pain in his stomach. He had fought through so many battles, endured so much pain, but this, this was different.

Because Shadow wasn’t just anyone.

Shadow was the one he had fought for.

Shadow was the reason he had dragged his battered body through the rubble, the reason he had risked everything.

And now, Shadow was the one choking the life out of him.

Something cracked in Sonic’s chest, not physically, but something deeper.

His vision darkened further, Shadow’s silhouette blurring into the haze of unconsciousness. His hands slowly dropped from Shadow’s wrists, his body slumping beneath the weight. His thoughts scattered, broken fragments of desperate hope slipping between his fingers like sand.

I didn’t leave you.

He wanted to scream it.

He wanted to make Shadow believe it.

But he couldn’t speak.

His body was failing.

Sonic’s mind swam, teetering on the edge of consciousness. The distant hum of the ship’s engines blurred into white noise. Shadow’s form above him was growing fainter, his words warping into a distorted mess. The world spun.

Then, suddenly a loud clang echoed through the cargo hold.

The door swung open.

"What the hell is going on in here?!"

A voice. Rough. Angry. One of the ship’s crew members.

Shadow froze.

His fingers twitched around Sonic’s throat, his entire body stiffening. Sonic barely registered the commotion, his mind still sluggish and on the edge of blacking out, but he felt the shift. The hesitation.

The crew member took a step forward, their silhouette blocking the light spilling from the hallway. Their expression twisted into something between confusion and concern as they took in the sight before them.

Sonic, half-conscious, barely breathing. Shadow, straddling him, fists clenched and trembling.

"You two," the worker snapped, stepping further into the room. "If you wanna kill each other, do it off my damn ship. I don’t need this kind of trouble on board."

Shadow didn’t move. He was still staring down at Sonic, breathing heavily, hands shaking as if he couldn’t process what he had almost done.

The moment stretched unbearably.

Then, with a sharp inhale, Shadow released Sonic.

Sonic’s body convulsed as he sucked in a ragged, desperate breath. He coughed violently, rolling onto his side as his abused lungs screamed for air.

The crew member muttered a curse under their breath. "Get yourselves together. And keep it down. Last thing we need is someone calling security on a couple of stowaways."

They turned and left, the heavy door slamming shut behind them.

Silence settled.

Sonic wheezed, gripping his bruised throat, barely able to think past the pounding in his skull. Shadow remained still, unmoving, his breath uneven.

Neither of them spoke.

But the weight of what had just happened hung between them like a storm waiting to break.

Sonic’s body convulsed as air rushed into his lungs, a violent, ragged gasp escaping him as he coughed and sputtered. His vision flickered, his body twitching as he struggled to breathe, to move, to process. His throat burned, raw and aching, but he wasn’t dead.

Shadow had let go.

Sonic’s blurred gaze shifted up, searching. And for the first time, he saw it.

The hesitation.

Shadow had pulled back, his hands hovering by his sides, fingers twitching, breath uneven. His crimson eyes flickered, burning with an emotion Sonic couldn’t name.

Something had snapped in him.

Something had cracked through the blind fury.

For a brief, fleeting second, Shadow looked lost.

Sonic coughed again, his body curling inward as he tried to sit up, every muscle shaking from the aftermath. His throat throbbed, and his head still spun, but none of that mattered.

Shadow stood frozen, his breath still ragged from the fight, his body tense and coiled as if waiting for Sonic to retaliate. But Sonic didn’t move. He lay there, curled on his side, his breathing shallow, his fingers weakly clutching his stomach.

The steady, rhythmic creaking of the metal hull and the rolling sensation beneath his feet made Shadow finally process where they were. A ship. The ship’s cargo hold was dim, only the faintest flickering light from above illuminating the wreckage of their battle. The silence was suffocating. The faint scent of saltwater filled the air, mingling with the stench of sweat, blood, and something burnt. The low hum of the engines vibrated through the floor, a reminder that they were far from solid ground, far from anything familiar.

It was only now, in the stillness, that Shadow truly saw him.

Sonic was wrecked.

His gloves were gone, revealing raw, burnt skin beneath, skin that looked like it had been seared by something far worse than fire. His fingers trembled, coated in grime and blood, the tips barely twitching from exhaustion. His shoes, once an extension of his very speed, were reduced to scraps, torn beyond recognition. The soles had nearly peeled off entirely, exposing cracked, calloused feet that had endured far too much. Blood and dirt had mixed together along his legs, staining the fur in grotesque streaks.

Bruises bloomed across his body in deep, violent splotches, some fresh from their fight, others layered from before. His arms were covered in shallow cuts, some clotting, others still oozing, his fur matted and sticky. His chest barely rose with each breath, and every shuddering inhale was accompanied by a weak, pained exhale.

And then Shadow saw the gash.

His breath hitched as his eyes locked onto it. A deep, jagged wound carved across Sonic’s stomach, bleeding sluggishly but steadily, the fabric around it darkened with fresh crimson. Shadow hadn’t noticed it before, not in the chaos of his rage, not when he had been too blinded by his own fury to see anything beyond the past nine years of hatred festering inside him.

But now, there was no ignoring it. The wound was worsening. Fast.

Sonic shifted, barely lifting his head, his lips parting as if to say something, but all that came out was a pained, rasping breath. His body trembled with the effort.

Shadow swallowed hard. His fists, still aching from their relentless assault, twitched at his sides. His entire body felt too tight, too hot, as though he had been burned from the inside out by his own emotions.

And that’s when he felt it, his own pain.

His breathing was heavy, sharp stabs of pain flaring along his ribs, likely bruised or worse. His limbs felt sluggish, weighed down by fatigue and residual tension. His knuckles were scraped raw, his arms covered in deep scratches where Sonic must have clawed at him in desperation. One of his inhibitor rings was slightly cracked, the metal dented from the impact of their blows. The sting of torn skin and bruised muscle pulsed through him, but it was nothing compared to the realization of what he had done.

He had done this. He had torn into someone who was already half-dead. He had wasted what little strength Sonic had left on a fight that should never have happened.

And now… now Sonic was slipping.

Shadow’s gaze flickered between Sonic’s barely-conscious form and the shifting floor beneath them. The ship was moving, carrying them away from whatever hellhole they had just escaped, but to where? How far out were they? How much time did they have?

Did Sonic waste his own strength carrying him from the rubble to the ship, despite what he had done?

Shadow clenched his jaw. None of that mattered if Sonic didn’t survive the night.

Gritting his teeth, he dropped to one knee beside Sonic, his hesitation lingering only for a second before his instincts overrode everything else. His hands hovered uncertainly over Sonic’s body, his mind racing. He had no supplies, no idea how to treat a wound this severe, but he had to do something. He couldn’t just watch him die.

“…Damn it,” Shadow muttered under his breath, fingers twitching before finally pressing against Sonic’s shoulder. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

Day One
The ship rocked gently, the rolling waves lulling the world into an eerie quiet. Shadow sat against the cold metal wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes locked onto Sonic’s unmoving form. He hadn’t stirred since their fight, save for the occasional pained breath. The gash in his stomach was bad. Too bad. Shadow didn’t know how to treat something like that.

But he tried. He’d torn off his own gloves, pressing them against the wound to slow the bleeding. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do. Sonic needed real help, and there was none here.

Shadow exhaled sharply, his mind a mess of contradictions. He could still hear their voices, the scientists’ cold, clinical words drilling into his skull. He left you. He ran. You weren’t worth saving.

But now, here Sonic was, broken, barely alive. And Shadow was the one keeping him that way.

Day Two
Sonic hadn’t woken up. His fever was rising. Shadow could feel the heat radiating off him, his body struggling to fight off whatever infection was setting in.

Shadow dipped a piece of cloth into a small puddle of condensation that had formed on the wall, pressing it against Sonic’s forehead. The ship’s cargo hold was stuffy, the air thick with the scent of rust and salt. No fresh water. No medicine. Just the endless rocking of the waves and the weight of unwanted memories.

Shadow’s hands hovered over Sonic’s form. He had done this. Maybe not the wound, but the bruises, the exhaustion, those were his fault. And yet, he was still here, trying to keep him alive.

Why?

Day Three
The door creaked open, and Shadow tensed, ready to fight.

The man from before stepped inside, older, rough-looking, with a permanent scowl etched into his face. He held something in his hand, scraps of food, stale bread, and a few bites of dried meat. He tossed it onto the floor near them with a grunt.

“Don’t know what the hell you two are,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “But I ain’t watchin’ a couple of kids die on my damn ship.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

Shadow didn’t move for a long time, staring at the food. His stomach twisted, the scent of it making his own hunger claw at him. But Sonic needed it more.

Carefully, he took a piece of the bread, tearing off a small bit before pressing it to Sonic’s lips. “Eat,” he muttered, voice gruff.

Sonic didn’t respond. His breathing was still too shallow, his body barely reacting. Shadow’s fingers twitched, frustration bubbling beneath his skin. He tried again, nudging the food against Sonic’s mouth.

This time, Sonic weakly turned his head away. Shadow clenched his jaw. “Idiot,” he muttered, but softer than before.

Day Four
Sonic woke up.

Barely.

His eyes cracked open for only a moment, glazed and unfocused. He mumbled something Shadow couldn’t make out before slipping back into unconsciousness. But it was something. A sign that he was still in there, still fighting.

Shadow exhaled through his nose, tension he hadn’t realized he was holding easing slightly. He adjusted the makeshift bandage again, making sure the wound hadn’t reopened.

Sonic shifted slightly in his sleep, brow furrowing. Shadow watched him, waiting, listening.

“…Sha…Shads?”

Shadow’s breath caught. That name, he hadn’t heard it in years. Not since they were in their cell together as children, before the world had twisted them into this.

“…Go back to sleep.” His voice was quieter than he intended.

Day Five
Sonic was getting worse. The fever wasn’t breaking. His skin beneath his fur was paler than before, his breaths too shallow. Shadow peeled back the cloth he had pressed against Sonic’s wound, and his stomach dropped.

The wound was infected.

The makeshift bandage, his own torn gloves, had been filthy, soaked in dried blood and grime. Now, red, inflamed skin spread around the gash, the smell of rot faint but unmistakable.

Shadow’s fingers clenched into fists. You did this.

Day Six
The crewman returned, dropping another small portion of food without a word. Shadow nodded at him this time.

Sonic hadn’t eaten much, but Shadow forced small sips of water into him whenever he could. It wasn’t enough.

His own body ached, bruises stiff and sore. He hadn’t taken the time to check over his own injuries, but exhaustion was creeping in, making every movement feel heavier. He ignored it. Sonic needed him more.

Day Seven
Sonic stirred, barely opening his eyes. “Where…?”

Shadow’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice, weak and barely there. “Still on the ship.”

Sonic blinked sluggishly, his gaze unfocused. “…hurts.”

“I know.”

Sonic’s gaze shifted, barely able to take him in. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something else, but nothing came. Shadow didn’t push him.

Day Eight
Sonic’s condition was deteriorating. His fever had worsened again, his body trembling even in sleep. Shadow didn’t know what to do, there was nothing he could do. He had no medicine, no clean water. Just his own two hands, and they were worthless.

He sat beside Sonic, his expression unreadable. The infection was spreading, and every hour that passed, it got worse.

“…You can’t die,” Shadow muttered, almost to himself.

Sonic, delirious, barely stirred at the sound of his voice. His lips moved, his voice faint and slurred. “Shads… you’ll stay, right…?”

Shadow swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

Day Nine
The ship rocked as it neared the dock, the groaning metal of the hull shifting with the waves. Shadow stood in the shadows of the cargo hold, his body tense, ears twitching at every distant voice and footstep above. They were docking. He was out of time.

Sonic lay limp in his arms, his fever burning hotter than before. His body had only grown weaker, the infection sinking deeper into his system. Shadow could hear his shallow, uneven breaths, feel the frailty in the weight against his chest, could feel his fragile ribs poking through his matted fur as he holds him. Every second counted now.

The ship jolted as it finally made contact with the dock. Voices above shouted orders, chains clanked, and the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps filled the air. Workers moved quickly, preparing for offloading, their boots clanking against the deck. Shadow’s grip on Sonic tightened. He had to move now.

Pressing himself against the walls, Shadow crept forward, his crimson eyes scanning for an exit. The cargo hold was vast, crates stacked high, creating narrow corridors of cover. He moved swiftly but carefully, keeping his breathing steady despite the weight in his arms.

The moment he reached the edge of the hold, he froze. A few employees stood near the main loading ramp, their voices carrying over the hum of machinery.

“Check the cargo, make sure nothing’s missing,” one barked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry it up. I wanna get outta here before sunrise.”

Shadow gritted his teeth. No way out, not without being seen. His fingers curled tighter around Sonic’s frame. If they were caught now, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

Shifting his weight, he adjusted Sonic in his grasp, cradling him closer. He could feel the heat of Sonic’s fevered body through his own fur. He needed to act fast.

A loud crash echoed from the far side of the hold, a dropped crate. The workers turned toward the noise, their attention momentarily diverted. Shadow saw his chance.

In a blur, he darted forward, weaving between the crates with inhuman precision. His breaths were shallow, controlled. Every step had to be silent, every movement calculated.

He reached the edge of the ship. The ramp leading down to the dock was just ahead, but too many workers loomed nearby. Shadow’s heart pounded in his chest. There had to be another way.

His gaze snapped to a row of smaller maintenance boats tied to the side of the ship, bobbing with the gentle sway of the waves. It was risky. If he missed his jump, they’d be in the water, and with Sonic in this state, that wasn’t an option.

The voices grew louder behind him. They were finishing up their checks.

No more time.

Shadow inhaled sharply, adjusting his grip. Then, with one powerful leap, he launched off the edge of the ship, twisting midair to absorb the impact as he landed in one of the small boats below. The vessel rocked violently under their weight, the ropes straining against the dock.

Shadow didn’t waste a second. He crouched low, holding Sonic close as he reached for the nearest line securing the boat. With one swift motion, he severed it.

The boat drifted away from the ship, swallowed by the fog rolling over the water. The sounds of the dock faded as Shadow guided them toward the shore, unseen, undetected.

Only when the ship disappeared into the mist behind them did Shadow allow himself to breathe.

They were off the ship.

But they weren’t safe yet.

The boat creaked under the pressure of its weight, the shallow water lapping at the sides as Shadow steered with frantic precision. Every muscle in his body screamed with the effort of holding Sonic, his fevered body still limp in his arms, but he refused to stop. Not now. Not when they were this close.

The dense fog surrounding them felt suffocating. It clung to the surface of the water, thick and impenetrable, blotting out the moon and shrouding everything in a ghostly, eerie glow. It should have been a blessing, hiding them from prying eyes, but Shadow could still feel the eyes of the dock workers somewhere beyond the fog, unaware but still a potential threat. His mind raced with possibilities, the sound of their muffled voices on the dock a constant reminder that time was running out.

The boat scraped against the shore, the low thud barely breaking the silence as Shadow swiftly jumped out, his boots sinking into the mud. He gritted his teeth, shifting Sonic's weight in his arms, his crimson eyes scanning the dimly lit docks. There was no sign of anyone nearby. For a moment, it seemed like they had made it through unscathed.

But Shadow didn’t trust it. Not yet.

He moved quickly, stumbling a few steps, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He didn’t dare glance back at the boat, didn’t dare look at the fog that was already swallowing it whole. Sonic’s body, though limp and weak, was burning hot against his chest, his breathing shallow and ragged. Shadow’s thoughts flashed to the infection, to the raw gash still oozing beneath his makeshift bandages, and panic surged in his chest.

Move. Keep moving.

Shadow’s feet hit the damp wood of the dock, the sound of his boots echoing too loudly in the stillness. He cursed under his breath. They were too exposed, too visible. The dock was scattered with crates, some piled high, others lying in heaps against the posts, but there were too many people moving in the distance, workers hauling goods, their low voices drifting through the mist.

He didn’t have much time.

The dock was still populated, more than he had anticipated. His instincts screamed at him to move faster, but his body was heavy, weighed down by Sonic’s fragile form. He darted between crates, trying to stay low, but his pulse hammered in his ears. The fog, though thick, wasn’t thick enough to block out the occasional shout, the distant clank of metal, the creak of wooden planks.

And then it happened.

A worker, distracted, walking with his back turned, collided with Shadow’s shoulder. The impact sent them both stumbling, but Shadow recovered faster, gritting his teeth as he shoved the man aside, barely avoiding a crash into the crates. The worker grunted in surprise, but Shadow didn’t wait for an apology, or a fight.

He kept moving.

His heart raced, adrenaline flooding his system as he pushed past another group of workers, sending one of them crashing into a stack of barrels. They cursed, but Shadow didn’t pause to check if anyone had noticed him. Sonic’s weight was dragging him down, the infection, the exhaustion, the mistakes—none of it mattered.

They had to find cover. Now.

He veered toward a narrow alleyway between two buildings, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He didn’t care about the noise he was making. He didn’t care about anything except getting out of sight, getting off the dock before anyone realized the stowaways were no longer on the ship.

His eyes darted around the alley, and for the first time since their escape, he felt a flicker of hope. It was quiet, secluded enough that no one could easily spot them. The buildings on either side of the alley were old, their wooden frames creaking with the shifting of the dock’s wooden planks. There were no windows, no doors opening into the alley, just stacks of old crates and forgotten debris.

Shadow sighed, the tension in his body easing for a moment as he sank against the wall, his breath ragged from the strain of their escape. He hadn’t realized how much his legs were shaking until he stopped moving, until the danger of their discovery felt less immediate.

Sonic, however, didn’t stir.

Shadow’s eyes flickered down at him, his body still burning with panic. He checked his pulse, his chest tight with fear, then examined the bandages he had made, grimacing as the infection spread more visibly. There was nothing he could do here, in this back alley, with no supplies. His thoughts spiraled into darker places, every possibility worse than the last.

He couldn’t lose Sonic. Not like this.

His hand clenched tighter around Sonic’s, fingers trembling with the weight of his helplessness. But then, through the fog, through the suffocating silence, a glint of something caught his eye. Something that shouldn’t be there. Something that didn’t belong in the shadows of this forgotten alley.

A sign.

It was faint, weathered by years of rain and wind, but the words were clear enough in the dim light.

South Beach Harbor.

Shadow stared at it for a long moment, his mind catching up to the significance. His chest tightened. He wasn’t just in some random place on the outskirts of nowhere, they had made it to a specific location, with civilians. The South Beach Harbor.

He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know what this place had to offer, but it was something. It was a lead. A place.

A chance.

Shadow swallowed hard, a wave of emotion hitting him square in the chest. This was a place. A place where he might be able to find help, or at least a way to survive. It wasn’t much, but it was the first piece of something that made sense since everything had gone wrong.

His head snapped back down to Sonic, still unconscious and feverish. Shadow’s heart clenched as he adjusted his grip, cradling Sonic as he started to move again. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped deeper into the alley, hoping the fog, and his own fear, would shield them long enough to get them out of sight.

He wasn’t out of danger yet. But now, for the first time in a long while, he had a direction.

And with that, the hope began to flicker.

Chapter Text

The fog still clung to the air like a heavy shroud, enveloping them as Shadow staggered through the alley, Sonic’s fevered body pressed tightly to his chest. His muscles screamed in protest, every step feeling like an impossible task, but he refused to stop. Not now. Not when they were so close. The cool, damp night air cut through the thin fabric of his jacket, but the weight of Sonic in his arms was more than enough to keep him grounded.

With every movement, his ribs throbbed, and the pain in his legs from the relentless travel sharpened. His own exhaustion threatened to break him, but he pushed forward, his focus solely on the small, flickering light ahead. There was a small patch of shelter just a little further, somewhere beyond the tangled mess of crates and damp wooden walls, a place where they could rest, even if just for a few minutes.

"Just a few minutes," he muttered to himself, his voice strained as he adjusted Sonic’s position, lifting him higher against his chest. "I’ll get you somewhere safe. Just hang on, Sonic."

The light at the end of the alley was closer now. But as Shadow took a step toward it, a faint but unmistakable sound froze him in his tracks. The sharp, grating sound of boots against wood echoed in the distance, cutting through the silence of the night. It was a small noise, but the way it reverberated through the fog made his quills rise and his fur stand on end.

Shouting.

The sound of voices carried toward him, distant but unmistakably harsh. The words were too muffled to make out, but the urgency in the tone made it clear: they were searching.

Shadow’s pulse quickened.

His first instinct was to run, to continue moving forward, but the fog, the crates, everything around him felt like it was closing in. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t be seen.

His hands clenched tighter around Sonic, his body tensing as he pressed himself against the shadows, his breath shallow.

Then he heard it.

A low, mechanical hum.

Something was coming. Something fast.

The noise grew louder, piercing through the night, and the sharp, unsettling screech of helicopter blades sliced through the air. Shadow’s crimson eyes widened, his gaze darting to the sky, the sky. A dark silhouette against the faint glow of the night sky, a helicopter, hovering above. It was only a brief moment, but long enough for him to make out the shape of something strange beneath it.

Something mechanical.

White. Oval shaped. Unnervingly precise in its movements.

Robots.

No.

It was more than that.

Shadow’s heart skipped a beat as a sudden realization struck him. These weren't ordinary machines. They were advanced, military-grade. His mind raced, but the pieces didn’t quite fit together. These things weren’t just random mercenaries. There was a pattern, something familiar in the way they moved, in the way the helicopter circled the docks.

And the more he listened, the more the dread grew.

“They’re coming. They’re looking for us.”

His mind snapped back to the shouting, the frantic orders being barked between the thumping of helicopter blades.

A voice, commanding, cold, carrying over the chaos.

"Move out, and sweep the area. Make sure they don’t slip through. The doctor wants them alive!"

Doctor?

Before Shadow could process the thought, a low mechanical voice crackled over the intercom from the helicopter.

“Target identified. Initiating capture.”

And then the screech of metal as the robot-like figures began to move, their footfalls like the sound of doom itself.

They were closing in.

Shadow’s eyes flickered to the horizon, his mind snapping into focus. He could feel the heat radiating from Sonic's frail body against his chest, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He couldn’t afford to wait. He couldn’t afford to be seen.

But running? It wasn’t an option.

The alley stretched on, but Shadow knew he wouldn’t make it far. The robots would find them. The helicopter would spot him.

Then, he heard the unmistakable sound of a voice.

A loud, mechanical shhhrrrrk and the sudden, jarring impact of something moving fast.

The white robots were coming. Shadow turned his gaze to the narrow alley, a flash of white crossing the dim light.

Time was running out.

But as he looked down at Sonic, barely conscious, feverish, and half-dead in his arms, a surge of resolve burned in his chest.

“I’ll get us out of this,” Shadow whispered under his breath, his voice tinged with both a promise and a threat to the world.

No one would take them.

Not now. Not ever.

Shadow’s muscles coiled as he crouched low, shifting Sonic’s weight as he prepared to sprint. His eyes narrowed, the only sounds he could hear now the rapid thudding of his own heartbeat and the muted shuffle of footsteps creeping closer.

And with a fierce breath, he made his move, blending into the shadows, ready to face whatever came next.

He ran.

The heavy footsteps of the robots echoed behind him, relentless and mechanical, their march like the ticking of a clock—each step counting down to their inevitable discovery. Shadow’s breath came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding like a war drum as he darted through the dark alleyway, cradling Sonic’s limp body against his chest. The shouts from the agents above, the unmistakable hum of the helicopter circling, all told him the same thing: they were closing in.

Shadow’s muscles screamed from exhaustion, his body screaming for rest, but there was no time. Not anymore. Not when Sonic’s life was hanging by a thread. The fog, thick as ever, seemed to press in around him, like a suffocating blanket, offering no comfort. The distant shouts and mechanical noises were a reminder that they were being hunted, and the only way out was forward.

He didn’t know how much longer he could keep running. He could feel the weight of Sonic’s feverish body, his every shallow breath a painful reminder of how close they were to the edge.

Move. Keep moving.

But ahead, Shadow’s eyes flicked over the next obstacle, a narrow street opening up into a vast expanse. The docks loomed behind them, with rows of darkened warehouses and the glowing signs of bars and restaurants spilling out into the street. People moved around in the busy city, unaware of the danger that lurked just beyond their peripheral vision. The sounds of laughter, shouting, clinking glasses, they were the complete opposite of the silent urgency that consumed him.

“Almost there,” Shadow muttered through gritted teeth.

He pushed forward, his steps growing frantic as he neared the street. His thoughts were a blur, a mixture of panic and determination. The robots were fast, precise, and closing in. But if he could make it to the crowd, if he could blend in—

Suddenly, a loud crash behind him.

“Target confirmed! He’s headed to the street!”

Shadow’s blood ran cold. The robots were coming fast, and the agents weren’t far behind. The alleyway would soon be a dead end. He had no choice.

Without thinking, Shadow lunged forward, his legs carrying him faster than he thought possible at the moment. He burst into the street, weaving through a crowd of people bustling about. Music blared from an open window of a nearby club, the city’s heartbeat pulsing in the background. People bumped into him as he moved, oblivious to the fugitive trying to blend in. The din of voices drowned out the growing sound of mechanical footfalls.

But even amidst the chaos, Shadow could hear them. The steady, unyielding approach of the robots. Their sensors, their red eyes, their methodical pursuit, they wouldn’t stop until they had him.

Get lost in the crowd. Get lost.

His eyes darted between the people, the buildings, the streets full of life and noise. He knew the city, knew how quickly the crowd could be a shield, but it would only work if he was fast enough. Shadow tightened his grip on Sonic’s limp form, his body aching with every move, but he couldn’t afford to slow down. Not now.

Sonic's ragged breathing brushed against his chest, a constant reminder that time was running out. Shadow’s gaze flicked up ahead. There, an open bar, a crowd spilling out onto the street, a tangled mess of bodies that would swallow him whole.

He ducked into the crowd, a blur of black and red, blending into the mass of people who paid no attention to the desperate fugitive amongst them. Shadow pushed forward, shoving through the crowd, ignoring the surprised gasps and muttered curses as he made his way toward the throng of bodies near the entrance.

A glance over his shoulder revealed the robots just a few yards away, their glowing red eyes sweeping the crowd. Shadow’s breath hitched as his heart pounded harder. He couldn’t stop now. Not yet.

He ducked behind a group of loud, drunken revelers, their laughter and conversation drowning out everything else. They blocked the line of sight between him and the robots, creating a moment of precious cover. For a few moments, all he could hear was the buzz of the city, the music, the voices.

The robots didn’t hesitate. They moved into the crowd, their harsh metallic movements cutting through the chaos like knives. But Shadow was faster. He pressed closer to the group, melting into the crowd, his form swallowed by the city’s pulse. His eyes never left the robots as they pushed forward, but he remained still, hidden in plain sight.

Keep calm, Shadow. Keep moving. Just a little longer.

He edged closer to the dark alleyways branching off the main street, keeping his movements careful and calculated. The robots passed, not noticing the small figure clutching the unconscious Sonic in the chaos. The sound of their footsteps gradually grew quieter, fading into the distance.

It wasn’t over, but for the moment, they had escaped.

Shadow didn’t wait. He darted into a nearby alley, moving quickly as his adrenaline began to wear off. He pressed Sonic against his chest, staggering under his weight as he tried to find cover in the shadows. His breathing was ragged, his heart still thundering in his chest as he paused to listen.

The distant sound of the robots searching, agents calling out commands, was still there, but it was no longer immediate. They had moved away. For now.

Shadow leaned against the brick wall, his body trembling with the toll the escape had taken. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his arms ached from the strain. He glanced down at Sonic, still unconscious, his fevered body limp in his arms. His chest rose and fell, shallow and weak, but he was alive.

Shadow closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. They weren’t safe yet. But they had made it. Just a little longer. A few more minutes of rest, and then they’d keep moving.

The city had swallowed them whole, hiding them in its noisy, chaotic embrace. And for now, that was enough.

Maddie’s stomach grumbled louder than the city around her. The bustle of the harbor was a far cry from the quiet comfort of home, but she was hungry, and San Francisco was full of options, unlike Green Hills. The salty air from the ocean mingled with the food carts lining the beach. The neon signs from the restaurants cast colorful glows against the night, promising warmth, comfort, and maybe something satisfying for a weary traveler like herself.

She tucked her phone in her pocket after glancing at it one last time. Her sister, Rachel, was likely busy, and Maddie wasn’t sure she could keep waiting for a ride home. A little late-night walk to clear her head and grab a bite to eat wouldn't hurt.

The crowd around her was thick, but the moment she turned into a quieter side street near the edge of the harbor, the city noise began to fade away, replaced by the rhythmic lapping of water against the dock and the occasional distant voice.

As Maddie rounded the corner into an alley, she spotted them.

At first, it was just shapes, strange hunched figures crouched in the shadows, their outlines barely discernible under the flickering streetlights. Her mind tried to make sense of them, but she couldn’t place what she was looking at.

Her first thought was raccoons, maybe even some stray animals looking for food. She had seen plenty of them around the city, rummaging through garbage or darting between parked cars. But there was something different about these creatures.

The way they moved... the shape of their bodies... They didn’t quite fit the typical stray.

Curiosity tugged at her as she took a step closer, her hand instinctively reaching for her phone, ready to snap a quick picture for her sister, Rachel, who would probably hate the oddity of it all. But as her foot met the cobblestone ground, a low growl broke through the night, sharp and warning. Her breath hitched.

"Hey," Maddie muttered softly, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "I didn’t mean to intrude. Just passing through..."

The growl deepened, and as she stepped closer, a pair of glowing red eyes cut through the shadows like a flare. The larger of the two creatures, a dark figure with quills bristling along its back, snarled, its body rigid with aggression. It was positioned in front of the smaller one, its body curled against the wall, unconscious, its fur matted and streaked with grime.

Maddie froze, her instincts taking over. She was no stranger to animals, especially those with a cold or defensive nature. She had worked with wildlife for years, had rescued foxes and other creatures, and knew how to approach when one was threatened or scared. This wasn’t a raccoon. It wasn’t even an animal she could recognize at first glance.

This thing... this creature was something else entirely.

"Easy, big guy," Maddie murmured gently, moving slower now, trying to lower her posture to appear non-threatening. "I’m not here to hurt you. Just looking for some food."

The creature’s red eyes narrowed as it took a step toward her, its form tense like a bowstring pulled too tight. His quills were raised in sharp, jagged spikes, and Maddie could feel the weight of his focus on her, the air crackling with barely contained hostility. She had dealt with hostile animals before, ones who were willing to fight if they felt cornered.

But something about this, something in its eyes, told her that it wasn’t just fear. It was desperation.

"Hey," Maddie spoke again, softer this time, her tone coaxing, almost maternal. "You don’t have to worry. I’m not here to take anything from you, or…anyone."

As she took another step forward, the creature let out another low growl, but this time it wasn’t as forceful, more like a warning than an actual threat. It wasn’t as sure of itself now, its body trembling slightly as if it were struggling to hold its form together.

The small creature shifted in the shadows. His chest rose with a strained, shallow breath, but his body remained still, unconscious. The other figure, still hovering protectively over him, seemed to deflate slightly at the sight, a shuddering breath leaving him as his quills softened, but he stayed crouched, watching her warily.

Maddie took another step closer, carefully bending down to bring herself closer to the smaller of the two, her hand held out, palm up.

"You’re hurt, aren’t you?" she murmured. She could see the small wounds on the creature’s fur, the blood stained in odd patches, but it was the gash across his stomach that made her breath catch. It was deep, unnaturally deep for something so small. This wasn’t just some animal scuffle; something had torn through him.

Her attention snapped back to the larger one, still watching her, but now with a look that bordered on exhaustion rather than aggression. His chest heaved with effort as he held his friend close to him, but Maddie could see the way his body swayed, his arms and legs threatening to buckle under the weight.

"Hey," Maddie whispered, moving slowly. "It’s okay. I’ll help. You’ve got to trust me."

For a long moment, neither of them moved, and it felt like the entire world held its breath. Then, with a soft whimper, the larger creature tensed one last time. His body seemed to collapse as he slid down the wall, taking Sonic with him, the fatigue of holding him up finally catching up to him.

Maddie’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. They weren’t just injured—they were dying.

The realization hit her like a freight train.

This wasn’t a stray animal. This was a creature in need of help. And the creature—whatever it was—protecting him wasn’t about to let anyone near without knowing they could be trusted.

But Maddie knew this wasn’t the time to fight.

She reached for her phone again, dialing her sister as she knelt down beside them, careful not to startle the larger one. "Rachel, hey. I need you to come pick me up, I’m by the harbor. Bring the car... and maybe a first aid kit. There’s something here... and I think they need help."

She paused, glancing down at the two boys, they weren't animals, not in the way she thought they were, and her heart clenched. They were something else entirely. And she couldn’t just walk away.

"Please hurry."

As Maddie stayed by their side, she noticed the way the larger creature's head dropped, his body too exhausted to stay upright any longer. His quills softened, and his eyes fluttered close, his breath shallow and ragged.

She couldn’t tell what they were, but she knew this: they had to survive.

And no matter how strange or terrifying they seemed, Maddie was going to make sure they did.

The kitchen lights cast a warm glow over the dining room table, but there was nothing warm about the situation unfolding on it. Maddie’s hands trembled as she pressed a damp cloth to the smaller creature’s forehead, feeling the fever radiating off of him in waves. His blue fur—fur, for god’s sake—was slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling in weak, labored breaths. The gash across his stomach, hastily cleaned and wrapped in bandages, still bled sluggishly.

The other one, the larger, black and red one, wasn’t much better off. He was sprawled out on the opposite end of the table, his arms limp at his sides, his own injuries less severe but no less concerning. His quills, which had been bristling with hostility back in the alley, now lay flat, dulled by exhaustion. His breathing was steadier than the smaller one’s, but his face was drawn with fatigue.

Maddie swallowed hard. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

“I swear to God, Maddie, you have lost your damn mind.”

Rachel’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense silence like a knife. Maddie didn’t need to look up to know her sister was pacing behind her, arms crossed, her expression no doubt twisted in that familiar mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“You brought wild animals into my house.”

“They’re not animals, Rachel,” Maddie shot back, her voice tight as she wrung out another cloth. “At least, not the kind we’re used to. And they’re hurt. What was I supposed to do, leave them in the street to die?”

“Yes!” Rachel threw her hands in the air. “Yes, that’s exactly what a sane person would do! But noooo, you had to bring them here, to my house, where my kid sleeps!”

As if on cue, the pitter-patter of small feet echoed from the hallway. Jojo, Rachel’s ten-year-old daughter, peeked her curly-haired head into the room, her wide brown eyes immediately locking onto the two creatures on the table.

“Whoa,” she breathed, stepping further inside before Rachel could stop her. “Mom, what are they?”

Rachel let out a frustrated groan. “Jojo, go back to your room.”

“But they’re cool!” Jojo argued, inching closer, her eyes alight with fascination. “They look like superheroes. Are they aliens?”

Maddie, still kneeling beside the table, exchanged a glance with Rachel before turning back to the unconscious figures before her. “I… don’t know.”

She really didn’t. Everything about them screamed impossible. Their shape, their injuries, the way they moved, it was like something pulled out of a sci-fi movie. She had spent years working with animals, rehabilitating the wounded and the abandoned, but nothing she had ever encountered even came close to this.

And yet, despite how bizarre the situation was, one thing was painfully clear: these two were in bad shape.

The blue one, god, she needed names for them, was much worse off than the black-and-red one. His fever was raging, and his breathing was shallow. Dehydrated. Malnourished. Exhausted. Whatever had happened to him, it had taken a hell of a toll.

Maddie reached for a fresh cloth, dabbing it carefully against his forehead. He shivered under the touch, his body instinctively curling in on itself, like a child seeking warmth. The motion made her heart clench.

The black-and-red one stirred slightly, his fingers twitching before clenching into weak fists. His eyes fluttered but didn’t fully open. Even in unconsciousness, he looked tense, like he was still bracing for a fight.

Rachel let out a long-suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t believe this. I really don’t.”

Maddie ignored her, focusing instead on Jojo, who had crept even closer to the table, her small hands gripping the edge as she peered up at the two strangers.

“Are they gonna be okay?” Jojo asked, voice small.

Maddie hesitated, glancing back down at them. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m going to try.”

Rachel muttered something under her breath and stomped over to the sink, probably to stress-clean or pour herself a very, very large glass of wine.

Maddie turned back to the task at hand. The blue one needed fluids, but she wasn’t sure if he could swallow anything without choking. His body was running too hot, and she knew if she didn’t get his fever down soon, things could take a turn for the worse.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Okay. First thing’s first, we need to cool him down.”

Rachel scoffed. “Oh, we’re doing this now? I don’t remember signing up for this.”

Maddie shot her a look. “Rachel.”

Rachel groaned, rubbing her temples. “Fine. But if either of them wakes up and tries to kill us, I told you so.”

Maddie would take that risk. Because despite how strange and terrifying the past hour had been, despite how utterly insane this entire situation was, she couldn’t shake the feeling that these two, whoever they were, needed her.

And for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she knew she wouldn’t let them down.

She needed to call Tom.

She took a shaky breath as she reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen of her phone as she scrolled through her contacts. Tom’s name was right there, one tap away, but for some reason, she hesitated. How the hell was she supposed to explain this?

‘Hey, honey, you know how I help animals sometimes? Well, I found two half-dead, talking, porcupine things and brought them into Rachel’s house. Also, they might be aliens or government experiments. Thoughts?’

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead. No way in hell was she ready for that conversation.

Still, she knew she had to call him. Tom needed to know. If anyone could help her figure this out, it was him. She tapped the call button and brought the phone to her ear, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she listened to the dial tone.

Then, just as the line clicked and she heard Tom’s voice, a sharp gasp tore through the room.

Maddie’s head snapped up just in time to see the black-and-red one bolt upright, his chest heaving, his crimson eyes wild and unfocused. His body tensed like a coiled spring, muscles locked as if expecting an attack.

Then his gaze landed on her.

For a split second, neither of them moved. Maddie barely breathed, her heart pounding as she slowly lowered the phone from her ear. The sheer intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. He wasn’t just waking up confused, he looked ready to fight.

“Tom, I’m gonna have to call you back,” she muttered, ending the call before she could even process what she was doing.

The creature’s breathing was ragged, sharp, his entire frame trembling as if he were coming out of a nightmare. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his quills twitching with barely restrained energy. His gaze darted around the room, scanning his surroundings, and Maddie could see the moment he realized he was somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere wrong.

“Hey, hey,” she said carefully, raising her hands in what she hoped was a calming gesture. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

The words barely left her mouth before he moved.

Fast.

One second, he was on the table. The next, he was on his feet, staggering backward, his hands snapping up defensively. His legs wobbled, whether from injury or exhaustion, Maddie wasn’t sure, but it didn’t slow him down. His back hit the far wall, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. His eyes darted between her, the furniture, the doorway, any possible escape route.

Maddie took a cautious step forward, but his quills bristled instantly, a sharp warning. She stopped dead in her tracks, lifting her hands higher. “Okay, not moving. Got it.”

Behind her, she could hear Rachel groaning. “Oh great, it’s awake. Fantastic.”

Maddie shot her a glare before turning her attention back to the trembling figure in front of her. He was still tense, still ready to strike, but his breaths were getting slower, deeper. He was trying to get a grip on himself.

“Listen,” Maddie said gently, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “I found you and your friend in an alley. You were both hurt. I just—” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I just wanted to help.”

The mention of his friend made something flicker in his expression, something raw and desperate. His gaze snapped to the table, where the blue one still lay unconscious, his body unnervingly still.

“Is he…?” the black-and-red one rasped, his voice rough, edged with something Maddie couldn’t quite place.

“He’s alive,” she assured him quickly. “But he’s not doing great. He has a fever, and he’s been out cold since I found you.”

The tension in his body didn’t fade completely, but it shifted. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, like some unseen weight was pressing down on him. His fists unclenched, his stance less aggressive, though still wary.

Maddie took the chance to step just a little closer. “Can you tell me your name?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His eyes flickered over her face, calculating, deciding. Then, finally, he answered.

“…Shadow.”

Maddie nodded slowly, committing it to memory, which would be easy considering the color of the boy’s fur. “Okay, Shadow. I’m Maddie.” She gestured toward Rachel, who was still hovering near the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed. “That’s Rachel. And we have a little one upstairs called Jojo.”

Shadow didn’t react to the names. He barely even seemed to acknowledge Rachel’s presence, his focus still locked onto his unconscious companion. His breathing was still heavy, his body still trembling faintly, but he was standing. He was aware. That was progress.

“Shadow,” Maddie tried again, “can you tell me what happened to you two? How you ended up like this?”

Shadow’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. “We… escaped.”

Maddie’s stomach twisted. “Escaped? Escaped what?”

Before he could answer, a hoarse, pained sound came from the table.

Maddie barely had time to react before Shadow was moving again, stumbling forward, bracing himself against the table as his hands hovered over the blue one. His expression, though still hard, was now lined with something else.

Worry.

“Sonic,” Shadow muttered under his breath, his fingers twitching as if afraid to touch him, afraid of what he’d find. “Come on, faker. Wake up.”

Maddie’s breath caught.

So they did have names, and they could talk.

Sonic wasn’t sure if he was awake.

His body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and fever, limbs sluggish and uncooperative. His stomach throbbed, a deep, gnawing ache that pulsed with every shallow breath. The air smelled different here, not sterile and metallic like the facility, but something else. Something warmer.

Voices drifted in and out, just beyond his reach. Muffled, unclear. But one of them, one of them he recognized. Low, rough, strained.

“…wake up.”

Sonic’s brow twitched. The voice was close, closer than the others. His ears flicked weakly at the sound of it, familiar yet strange all at once.

He tried to move, but his body refused. Everything was sluggish, distant, like he was floating between consciousness and something darker.

Then, a name cut through the haze, sharp, urgent, impossible to ignore.

“Sonic.”

His throat tightened.

That voice.

Shadow?

His breath hitched as memories slammed into him all at once, pain, fire, the facility collapsing, Shadow’s hands wrapped around his throat, those furious crimson eyes burning with betrayal. His pulse stuttered, panic rising in his chest as instinct screamed at him to move—

He gasped, eyes snapping open.

And immediately, he regretted it.

The world tilted violently, his vision a mess of light and shadow, shapes shifting too fast for his sluggish brain to process. His stomach lurched, nausea rolling over him in waves, and for a second, he thought he might pass out again.

A firm hand caught his shoulder.

“Easy,” that voice, Shadow’s voice, murmured. The grip was solid, grounding, but not rough. Not like before.

Sonic swallowed thickly, struggling to focus. His gaze darted upward, landing on Shadow’s face. He was close, too close, his expression hard to read through the haze of fever, but his eyes… they weren’t furious this time.

They were worried.

Sonic’s breath trembled. His chest ached, though whether from exhaustion or something deeper, he wasn’t sure.

“…Shadow…?”

It came out weak, barely more than a rasp, but Shadow still tensed like it was the first real sound he’d heard all night.

“You’re awake.” Shadow exhaled, his shoulders visibly loosening, but his grip on Sonic didn’t waver. His gaze flickered, scanning him over, sharp with scrutiny. “You’re burning up.”

Sonic tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a strained wheeze. “Yeah… figured.”

His eyelids felt heavy again, the effort of staying awake pressing down on him like a weight. But there was still something nagging at the back of his mind, something that didn’t make sense.

“…Where…?”

Shadow only looked down, he clearly didn’t know the answer either. “I saw a sign, on my way here. South Beach Harbor, it said.”

His ears twitched weakly. His brain was too fogged up to make sense of everything, but one thing was clear.

They weren’t in the facility anymore.

Sonic had brought Shadow to the ship on the island, but he couldn’t remember getting off.

The room swayed.

Sonic blinked sluggishly, his vision blurring before slowly sharpening again. The ceiling above him wasn’t metal. It wasn’t concrete. It was drywall, aged, uneven, with a ceiling fan slowly spinning overhead. A low creak sounded somewhere nearby, like the gentle shift of an old building settling against the wind.

A house.

He was in a house.

The realization sent a shiver through him, though whether it was from fever or something deeper, he wasn’t sure. His mind was still sluggish, thoughts slipping between present and past like water through his fingers. His stomach clenched as another wave of nausea rolled over him, but he swallowed it down, focusing on the warmth beside him, firm, steady, unmoving.

Shadow.

Sonic turned his head slightly, his vision tilting in time with the movement. Shadow was still there, sitting stiffly beside him, his expression carefully neutral. But his hands, his hands were tense, resting in his lap, his fingers curled just slightly inward like he was resisting the urge to move. His fur was still ruffled, still lined with dried blood and exhaustion, but his eyes weren’t as wild as before.

Then Sonic became aware of something else, his body was wrapped up. Bandages covered his stomach, snug but not suffocating, and though he still ached, there was a noticeable difference. The pain was duller, his fever not as consuming as before. He was still weak, but he felt… slightly better.

Sonic wet his lips, his throat dry and aching. “We made it?”

Shadow’s gaze flickered down to him. A pause. Then, a slow nod. “Yeah.”

Sonic exhaled, but it came out shakier than he wanted. “Cool.”

Then, the door creaked open.

Sonic barely had the energy to lift his head, but Shadow tensed immediately, his posture straightening as his quills bristled just slightly. A set of footsteps thudded against the wooden floor, followed by the rough sound of fabric shifting as someone stepped into the room.

“Glad to see you’re still breathing, blue.”

The voice was firm, but not unkind. Sonic blinked sluggishly, trying to focus as a figure came into view, a woman, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She had brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and concern.

Sonic swallowed, his throat still dry. “Uh… thanks?”

The woman sighed, stepping further inside. “You two are lucky. I don’t usually bring unconscious, half-dead hedgehogs into my home.” Her gaze flickered to Shadow. “Especially ones with a damn death wish.”

Shadow’s hands curled into fists, but he said nothing.

The woman sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Look. You’re in San Francisco. My name is Maddie, and this is my sister Rachel’s house. I found you two in an alley, bleeding out, and I couldn’t just leave you there.” Her gaze softened slightly. “You’re safe here. For now.”

Sonic’s ears twitched. There was a roughness to her voice, an edge of irritation, but beneath it, there was something else. Something that almost sounded like reluctant concern.

Maddie took a step back, glancing between the two of them. “I’ll give you guys a minute,” she said, excusing herself. “If you need anything, just… try not to break anything.” With that, she turned and walked out, the door creaking shut behind her.

Silence settled again, broken only by the distant hum of city traffic outside.

Sonic let out a weak chuckle, shifting slightly against the thin mattress. “Well. She seems nice.”

Shadow didn’t respond.

Sonic glanced at him again, noting the way his jaw was clenched, his hands still curled in his lap. The tension in his shoulders hadn’t eased. If anything, it had gotten worse.

“…You okay?” Sonic asked, his voice quieter this time.

Shadow’s fingers twitched. For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then, finally, in a voice barely above a whisper:

“I don’t know.”

Sonic’s chest ached, and for once, it had nothing to do with his fever.

“Yeah,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Me neither.”

Sonic lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The dull ache in his body was manageable now, his fever less suffocating, but exhaustion still weighed him down. His mind felt slow, foggy, like he was waking from a dream he couldn’t quite remember. But one thing was clear, they weren’t in the facility anymore.

He turned his head toward Shadow, who was still sitting at the edge of the bed, rigid and silent. Sonic studied him, noting the dried blood on his fur, the way his hands were curled tightly into his lap, the distant look in his eyes.

“…How did we get here?” Sonic finally asked, his voice hoarse.

Shadow’s crimson gaze flicked to him, unreadable. “I carried you.”

Sonic blinked. “Carried?” He tried to picture it, Shadow hauling him across a city, but his memory was blank past the facility. “From where?”

Shadow exhaled through his nose, gaze dropping to the floor. “The ship. You got us out of the rubble, I assume. You passed out in the ship and we ended up near the harbor when it docked. You were in no condition to run, so I carried you through the streets until I found somewhere to stop.”

Sonic’s ears flattened. That didn’t sound easy, especially considering Shadow wasn’t much better off than he was. “And Maddie found us?”

Shadow nodded. “She and her sister took us in.” His voice was even, but there was something in his tone, reluctance, maybe. Like he wasn’t used to accepting help.

Sonic swallowed, shifting slightly. “You… really got us out?”

Shadow’s jaw tensed, his fingers twitching. “It wasn’t easy.”

Sonic could hear the weight in his voice, the effort behind those three words. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing as his body protested. “What happened, Shadow?”

Shadow was quiet for a long moment. Then, his voice came, low and firm. “I assumed the facility was compromised after the explosion. Security was weak. I thought I could take advantage of it.”

Sonic’s stomach twisted. He remembered the explosion, the chaos, the unbearable heat. He swallowed. “And then, in the city?”

Shadow’s gaze darkened. “Robots. Agents. They were everywhere. They must have been tracking us the moment we escaped. I had to run through them to keep us from getting caught.”

Sonic stiffened, his fingers curling slightly into the blanket beneath him. Robots. Agents. The very mention of them sent a cold shiver down his spine. His mind flashed to metal hands grabbing at him, red lights flickering in the dark, voices barking orders—

He shook his head, forcing the memories down. His chest felt tight, but he focused on Shadow, on the way he spoke so matter-of-factly, as if the entire ordeal hadn’t nearly killed them both.

Sonic exhaled shakily. “You ran away?”

Shadow met his gaze. “I didn’t have a choice, not with you in my arms.”

Sonic swallowed hard. His heart was still pounding in his chest, but there was something else beneath the fear, something close to gratitude. Shadow had fought for them. He had carried them both through danger, kept them safe long enough to be found.

“…Thanks,” Sonic murmured. It felt strange to say, but he meant it.

Shadow didn’t respond right away. His gaze lingered on Sonic for a moment longer before he finally looked away. “…Get some rest,” he muttered.

Sonic wanted to say more, to ask more, but his body was already growing heavy again, exhaustion pulling him down. He let his eyes slip shut, breathing slow and steady.

For the first time in a long while, he felt safe enough to sleep.

The house was quiet that night. The city hummed faintly in the distance, the occasional car rolling by, but inside, everything was still. The only sounds were the rhythmic breathing of the two figures curled up on the mattress, their exhaustion having finally won out.

Maddie stood in the doorway, watching them.

The black one, Shadow she had learned, had fought it for as long as he could. She had seen him shifting every so often, adjusting his position, keeping his senses sharp even as fatigue clung to him like a weight. But in the end, even he couldn’t resist. Now, his head rested against Sonic’s chest, his body curled slightly beside him, the steady rise and fall of Sonic’s breathing seeming to ground him in sleep.

Maddie was sure it was the deepest rest they had gotten in who knows how long.

Maddie’s heart clenched at the sight. Whatever they had been through, whatever hell they had escaped from, it had taken everything out of them. And yet, here they were, holding onto what little peace they had. She stepped closer, careful not to wake them, and draped a blanket over both of them.

They didn’t stir.

She exhaled softly, brushing a stray hair behind her ear before glancing at her phone. The earlier conversation with Tom still sat at the top of her call log.

He hadn’t been happy about it.

In fact, he had sounded seconds away from outright refusing. But in the end, after a lot of sighing and a reluctant, "Just until they’re okay," he had agreed.

Maddie had assured him it wouldn’t be permanent. Just long enough for them to recover. Long enough to figure out what the hell they were going to do next.

The plan to move to San Francisco would have to wait. For now, they were going back to Green Hills.

She glanced back at the two boys one last time, watching the way Shadow unconsciously clutched at Sonic’s body, his breathing deep and steady. Whatever walls he had built up, whatever defenses he had sharpened over the years, they had softened, at least for now.

Maddie swallowed, then turned and flicked off the light, leaving them to rest in the quiet of the night.

Tomorrow, they would leave. But for tonight, at least, they were safe.

Chapter Text

The first thing Sonic registered was warmth.

Not the feverish kind that had been clinging to him for what felt like forever, but something different. Something solid. It pressed against his side, anchoring him to the moment, keeping him from floating back into the haze of exhaustion.

The second thing he registered was weight.

A heaviness against his chest, unfamiliar but not entirely unwelcome.

His eyelids felt like lead, but he forced them open, blinking sluggishly against the dim morning light. The ceiling above him was old drywall, uneven and cracked in places. A slow-moving ceiling fan creaked overhead, stirring the air just enough to keep it from feeling stuffy.

Everything felt wrong and right all at once.

It wasn’t the facility. It wasn’t the ship. It wasn’t metal walls and sterile lights.

It was a house.

He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, his sluggish mind trying to piece things together. The last thing he remembered was the suffocating heat of his fever, the unbearable weight of exhaustion, and then—

Shadow.

Sonic’s gaze flickered downward.

Sure enough, the black hedgehog was still there, slumped against him, his head resting lightly against Sonic’s chest. His body was curled slightly inward, his quills brushing against Sonic’s arm, his breath slow and deep with the rhythm of actual sleep. The boy had carried him to safety.

Sonic blinked.

He had never seen Shadow like this before, completely unguarded, stripped of his usual tension. At least, not since they were hoglets. His arms, usually crossed or clenched into fists, were loose at his sides. His jaw, always locked in some form of irritation, was relaxed.

Sonic exhaled softly, barely daring to move.

Shadow must’ve fought it, probably hated the fact that he had let himself crash like this. But he had been too exhausted to stop it. His body had given out, pressing him instinctively against the closest source of warmth.

Against him.

Sonic’s chest tightened with something complicated.

He didn’t know what to do with this, this moment of vulnerability from someone who had spent their entire existence trying to be untouchable. It felt too fragile, too fleeting, like if he so much as breathed wrong, it would shatter completely.

But as much as he wanted to let Shadow rest, his own body had other plans.

A dull ache pulsed in his stomach, the sluggish burn of his injury reminding him that no, he hadn’t woken up to some peaceful dream. His throat felt like sandpaper, his limbs still weak from fever, and despite the warm comfort pressing against his side, he could feel the stiffness in his joints from lying still too long.

His fingers twitched. The movement was small, but it was enough.

Shadow stirred.

Sonic felt the subtle shift of weight as Shadow inhaled sharply, his body tensing before his eyes even opened. His quills twitched, his fingers flexed against the blanket, and then—

Red eyes snapped open.

For a split second, they were unfocused, hazy from sleep. Then, realization slammed into him like a shockwave.

Shadow stiffened immediately, his entire body going rigid as if he had just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. His breath hitched, and in an instant, he was moving, pushing himself upright, away from Sonic, away from the fact that he had just slept against him.

Sonic barely managed to suppress a wince as the weight lifted off of him, his ribs protesting the sudden shift.

Shadow didn’t speak. He didn’t look at him.

Instead, he sat at the edge of the table, his back straight, his hands curled tightly in his lap.

Like nothing had happened.

Sonic stared at him for a long moment, still trying to catch up with reality, still feeling the ghost warmth of where Shadow had been.

“…Well, good morning to you too,” he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Shadow exhaled sharply through his nose but said nothing. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, shoulders tense, his entire posture screaming discomfort.

Sonic wasn’t about to let that slide.

“You know,” he rasped, shifting slightly despite his body’s protests, “if you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.”

That did it.

Shadow’s ear twitched sharply, his fingers curling tighter into his lap. “Shut up.”

Sonic grinned despite himself. His throat still felt like it was made of sandpaper, but the amusement bubbling in his chest made the pain almost worth it.

“Seriously,” he continued, enjoying how Shadow refused to look at him, “I mean, I get it, I’m pretty comfortable—”

“Sonic.” Shadow’s voice was dangerously low.

“—but I never pegged you as the clingy type.”

Shadow’s hands twitched, like he was this close to strangling him, which would be ironic.

Sonic snickered, then immediately regretted it when a dull spike of pain shot through his stomach. He sucked in a breath, wincing.

And just like that, the mood shifted.

Shadow’s gaze snapped to him, the irritation from before flickering into something else.

Concern.

It was subtle, so subtle that if Sonic hadn’t known Shadow, hadn’t spent months reading every little shift in his expression, hadn’t spent years replaying every memory he had of him, he might’ve missed it. But it was there.

Shadow’s eyes flickered over him, scanning, assessing, lingering for a second too long on his bandaged stomach. His fingers twitched again, but this time, it wasn’t in frustration.

It was hesitation.

Sonic exhaled, forcing himself to relax against the table. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

Shadow didn’t look convinced.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door creaked open.

Maddie stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. “Well. You’re both alive. That’s a good start.”

Sonic blinked up at her, still trying to shake off the haze of sleep. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Morning.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow. “It’s noon.”

Sonic made a face. “Oh. Cool.”

Shadow remained silent, his posture still tense, his gaze flickering briefly toward the window like he was already planning their next move.

Maddie sighed, stepping further inside. “I made food,” she said, placing a tray on the nightstand. “Eat. You need it.”

Sonic glanced at the plate of toast and eggs, his stomach twisting. He was hungry, but everything still felt too… unreal.

Still, he forced himself to reach for the toast. His hands were steadier than last night, but just barely.

Maddie, however, was watching someone else.

“You too,” she said, giving Shadow a pointed look.

Shadow barely moved. “I’m fine.”

Maddie scoffed. “You passed out on him last night. You’re not fine.”

Sonic bit back a snicker. Shadow’s scowl deepened.

Maddie sighed, rubbing her temples. “You know what? Do whatever you want. I don’t have the energy to argue.”

She turned toward the door. “Just don’t break anything,” she muttered before stepping out, leaving them in silence.

Sonic nudged the untouched plate toward Shadow with a tired grin. “Even ultimate lifeforms need breakfast, dude.”

Shadow didn’t respond right away. His fingers twitched slightly, hesitation flickering across his face.

Then, slowly, reluctantly, he reached for the plate.

Sonic didn’t comment.

For now, there were no fights, no missions, no facility. Just a dimly lit room, a quiet afternoon, and the unspoken understanding that, despite everything, they were still here.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The toast was dry.

Sonic chewed slowly, barely tasting it, his body still sluggish from sleep. He wasn’t even sure if he was hungry, his stomach was so knotted up with exhaustion and lingering fever that every bite felt like a chore. But he forced himself to eat anyway. He had learned the hard way that skipping meals after running himself into the ground only made things worse.

Across from him, Shadow sat rigidly at the edge of the table, barely acknowledging the food in front of him. His posture was stiff, his quills still bristled from tension he hadn’t shaken since waking up. His fingers curled around the edge of the plate, but he hadn’t taken a single bite.

Sonic swallowed a mouthful of toast and raised an eyebrow. “You know, the whole point of eating is to actually do it, not just stare at the plate like it insulted your ancestors.”

Shadow didn’t look up. “We need to leave.”

Sonic blinked. “Okay. Wow. That was a transition.”

Shadow’s grip tightened on the plate. “I’m serious.”

Sonic sighed, setting his toast down. “I know you are. But dude, can we at least—y’know—recover for a second? Maybe enjoy not being chased or shot at for five minutes?”

Shadow finally looked at him, his crimson eyes sharp and unwavering. “We don’t have time.”

Sonic frowned. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Shadow shot back. “We were unconscious for nearly a day. That’s more than enough time for them to track us.”

Sonic hesitated. He wanted to argue, to tell Shadow he was being paranoid, but the truth was… he wasn’t entirely wrong. The facility had collapsed, but that didn’t mean the people behind it had given up. If anything, it probably made them more desperate. Especially if they had caught Shadow in the city already.

Still, Sonic glanced around the room, the dim lighting, the hum of city life outside, the smell of old wood and warm air. It wasn’t perfect, but for the first time in who knows how long, it felt like they had a second to breathe.

And Shadow wanted to throw that away.

Sonic ran a hand down his face. “Look, I get it, alright? You don’t like staying in one place, you don’t trust Maddie, and you definitely don’t trust anyone helping us. But we barely made it out alive. And news flash—” he gestured vaguely at himself, “—I’m still running on fumes over here.”

Shadow’s gaze flickered to the bandages on Sonic’s stomach, the way he still held himself stiffly, every movement slow and deliberate. His fingers twitched.

For a split second, Sonic thought he might back down.

Then, Shadow’s jaw tightened. “That’s exactly why we need to leave.”

Sonic groaned. “Unbelievable.”

Shadow set his untouched plate aside. “You’re vulnerable. You need time to recover. But we won’t get that here. Not in a house, not in a city where anyone could recognize us.”

Sonic scowled. “Maddie isn’t gonna sell us out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda have to trust someone, otherwise we might as well just keep running until we collapse in a ditch somewhere.” Sonic crossed his arms. “Seriously, Shadow, I get the whole lone-wolf, brooding thing you’ve got going on, but some of us actually need help every now and then.”

Shadow’s quills bristled. “I don’t need help.”

Sonic threw his hands up. “Oh my God, yes you do!”

Shadow tensed.

Sonic narrowed his eyes, voice dropping. “You passed out on me last night.”

Shadow stiffened further, his gaze snapping away, his entire body going rigid.

Sonic pressed on. “Yeah. You crashed. You didn’t even realize you did it, did you?”

Shadow’s fingers twitched. His face remained impassive, but Sonic saw the crack in his armor, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the slight shift in his posture like he was trying not to acknowledge the truth.

Sonic sighed. “Look, man, I get that this isn’t easy for you. Hell, none of this is easy for me either. But we’re not machines. We need time to rest, time to think. Running blind isn’t gonna help.”

Shadow exhaled sharply through his nose. “We don’t have the luxury of waiting.”

Sonic was about to argue again, but the sound of footsteps cut him off.

Maddie appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. “You two done yelling at each other, or should I grab popcorn?”

Sonic winced. “Uh.”

Shadow didn’t react, his posture still tense.

Maddie sighed, stepping further inside. “Look, I don’t know what the hell you guys are dealing with, but I do know a few things. One, you’re in no condition to run through the streets again, Sonic. Two, you both look like you barely survived a war. And three—” her gaze flickered to Shadow, unimpressed, “—if you really think running around half-dead with nowhere to go is a good plan, then maybe you need more help than I thought.”

Shadow’s fists clenched. “Staying here puts you at risk.”

Maddie’s expression softened just slightly. “And running off in your condition puts you at risk. Which one of us is more stubborn?”

Sonic smirked. “Oh, definitely him.”

Shadow shot him a glare, but Maddie just exhaled, rubbing her temple. “I already talked to Tom, my husband.”

Sonic blinked. “Wait—you what?”

“He knows what’s going on,” Maddie continued, ignoring Sonic’s wide-eyed stare. “Or, well, some of it. I told him we have two ‘unusual cases’ that need to lay low.”

Shadow’s shoulders tensed. “You told someone?”

Maddie held up a hand. “Relax, he’s not turning you in. If anything, he’s just as paranoid as you are. He said he can help get you out of the city, but we have to be smart about it.”

Sonic sat up straighter. “Wait. Out of the city?”

Maddie nodded. “San Francisco isn’t exactly the best hiding spot. We’ve got eyes everywhere, security cameras, drones, you name it. But Green Hills?” She smirked. “That’s off the grid.”

Shadow’s brows furrowed. “Green Hills.”

Maddie nodded. “Quiet little town. Plenty of cover, nowhere near as many people looking for fugitives.”

Sonic perked up a little. “So, wait, you want to help us?”

Maddie sighed. “I want to make sure you don’t drop dead in my sister’s house. But yeah, I guess that means helping you.”

Sonic grinned. “Wow. That’s almost sweet.”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Don’t get used to it.” She turned to Shadow. “I know you don’t trust this, but at least consider it before running off into another death trap.”

Shadow was silent.

Sonic glanced at him. Shadow’s face was unreadable, but his fingers had loosened just slightly from their fists.

A crack in the armor.

Maddie sighed. “Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.” She turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. “Oh, and eat your damn food.”

With that, she disappeared down the hall.

Silence stretched between them.

Sonic took another bite of toast. “Soooo… you gonna eat now?”

Shadow exhaled sharply, grabbed the plate, and shoved a piece of toast into his mouth with enough force to break the laws of physics.

Sonic smirked. “Progress.”

Shadow glared at him.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sonic had almost let his guard down.

The toast was stale, his body still ached, and Shadow was still as insufferably stubborn as ever but for a moment, just one moment, it had felt like things were settling.

Then the knock came.

Three sharp raps against the front door.

Rachel, who had been sitting on the couch flipping through the news on her phone, froze mid-scroll. Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing in immediate suspicion. Maddie, who had just stepped into the kitchen, went rigid, her entire body tensing.

Shadow was already on his feet.

Sonic’s stomach clenched.

No. Not yet. They weren’t ready.

The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

Rachel shot a look at Maddie. “You expecting someone?”

Maddie shook her head, but Sonic could see the fear creeping into her eyes.

Then, a voice rang through the door.

“Helloooo? Anyone home? I’d hate to think you were ignoring me!”

Sonic’s blood ran cold.

That voice.

It was cocky. Drawling. Amused, but laced with something dangerous beneath the surface.

Shadow tensed beside him, eyes narrowing. He didn’t recognize it, but he didn’t trust it.

Maddie inhaled sharply, her eyes darting toward the living room window, where the curtains were just barely cracked. She crept forward, peering outside.

Her face went pale.

“Black van. Government plates,” she whispered. She turned toward them, her voice sharp. “We have to go. Now.”

Rachel looked between them, putting the pieces together instantly. “Wait—that’s who’s after them?”

Maddie ignored her, spinning toward Sonic and Shadow. “Get up. Move. Now.”

Sonic shoved his plate aside, his pulse hammering in his ears. His legs still felt off from exhaustion, but adrenaline was already kicking in, numbing the ache.

Shadow was already in motion, his entire body locked into fight-or-flight.

There was another knock, followed by a slow, exaggerated sigh.

“Ohhh, Rachel. I know you’re in there.”

Rachel flinched.

Robotnik chuckled. “Open the door, and I promise to make this quick. I’m just looking for a couple of strays.”

Maddie grabbed her by the wrist. “Rachel, listen to me. Stall him. Keep him talking as long as you can.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “You want me to open the door for that psycho?!”

“You’re the only one who can buy us time!” Maddie hissed. “Just act like you don’t know anything. We’ll be gone before he gets suspicious.”

Rachel looked ready to strangle her, but Sonic didn’t have time to focus on their argument.

Because suddenly, there was a third knock, harder this time, rattling the doorframe.

The voice lost its patience.

“You really don’t want me to let myself in.”

Maddie grabbed Sonic’s wrist and yanked him up, dragging a yelp out of the boy. “Come on.”

Sonic barely had time to stumble forward before he felt  another grip on his arm, firmer, stronger.

Shadow.

For half a second, Sonic thought Shadow was about to bolt, to drag him out the window and take off at full speed. But instead, Shadow’s grip tightened, steadying him just enough to keep him upright.

Then, just as fast, he let go.

Sonic barely had time to process it before Maddie was pulling them toward the back door.

Rachel took a deep, slow breath, rolling her shoulders before storming toward the front door with the energy of a woman about to commit several crimes.

She yanked it open.

Sonic didn’t hear the persons first words. He didn’t hear the exact moment Rachel started throwing attitude at him, demanding to know who the hell he thought he was banging on her door like that.

Because just as they reached the back exit, a small pair of feet thudded against the floorboards.

“Wait!”

Sonic turned, just in time to see Jojo skid to a stop in front of him, clutching something tightly to her chest.

Her eyes were wide, nervous, but determined.

“I—I saw these upstairs,” she stammered. “They can fit you, right?”

She shoved a pair of sneakers into his hands.

Sonic froze.

They were red, with a solid white stripe running across the sides. Worn down, but sturdy. Not exactly the same as his old ones, but close enough.

His throat tightened.

His old shoes had been ruined ages ago, torn to shreds before Shadow and him had even caused the wreckage. He had been running barefoot ever since, the harsh ground cutting into him, slowing him down in ways he hated to admit.

He swallowed hard. “Jojo, I—”

“Just take them!” she huffed. “You’re gonna need ‘em, right?”

Sonic stared at her, at the raw kindness in her expression. His chest felt too full for a second, like he couldn’t quite breathe past it.

Then, quickly, he dropped onto the floor, shoving his feet into the shoes. They weren’t a perfect fit, but the moment he fit his feet inside, something clicked inside him.

Something right.

Jojo gave him a quick nod, then took off before Maddie could scold her for getting involved.

Maddie, to her credit, didn’t stop to question it. She grabbed her keys, flung open the back door, and practically shoved them outside.

“Get in the car. Keep your heads down. Do not move.”

Sonic barely managed to slip into the backseat before Shadow practically lunged in after him.

The moment the doors shut, Maddie threw the car into drive.

Sonic risked one last look out the window, just in time to see Rachel still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression tight as she stood her ground against the mans smug, looming figure.

The last thing Sonic saw before they turned the corner was Robotnik adjusting his glasses, stepping forward—

And Rachel slamming the door right in his face.

Maddie pressed harder on the gas.

No one spoke.

The weight of what just happened settled like a rock in Sonic’s chest.

They had made it. They had slipped away before the strange man could see them.

But just barely.

Sonic turned to Shadow. He was staring straight ahead, his face unreadable, his hands curled into fists against his lap.

Sonic swallowed, flexing his feet in the new shoes. “…Guess I owe Jojo one.”

Shadow didn’t respond.

Sonic exhaled, letting his head fall back against the seat. “We can’t keep doing this, huh?”

Shadow closed his eyes. “No.”

Sonic sighed. “…Then let’s stop running.”

Shadow glanced over at him, just slightly.

Sonic met his gaze, tired but steady. “Let’s fight back.”

The car sped down the road, leaving the city behind.

Leaving fear behind.

For the first time in a long time, Sonic wasn’t just running to survive.

He was running toward something bigger.

And he knew, deep down, Shadow would be right there with him.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, dark and winding, illuminated only by the dim glow of streetlights passing overhead. The low hum of the car engine was steady, rhythmic, almost lulling. Rain had started to drizzle against the windshield, soft and sporadic, turning the outside world into a blur of shifting shadows and golden streaks of reflected light.

Shadow barely noticed any of it.

His body was stiff, his mind a battlefield of contradictions, and Sonic, Sonic was asleep against his shoulder.

It had happened gradually.

At first, Sonic had just leaned back, head resting against the seat. His breathing had been even, but heavy, the kind of exhaustion that went bone deep. Then, at some point, his body had slumped sideways, the slow pull of gravity drawing him closer.

Now, his head rested against Shadow’s shoulder, his quills brushing lightly against Shadow’s arm with each slow breath.

It was such a careless thing.

Careless in the way only Sonic could be, because who else would fall asleep on someone who had tried to kill them just days ago?

Shadow could feel the warmth of him through the thin barrier of fur, hear the steady inhale-exhale of his breathing. There was no tension in Sonic’s body, no wariness.

Like he trusted him.

Shadow’s hands curled into fists against his lap.

He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be sitting in the back of some human’s car, listening to the soft sounds of rain, feeling the weight of another person leaning against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He shouldn’t be alive.

And yet, here he was.

And all he could think about was them.

The scientists. The facility. The lies.

Their voices echoed in his head, distant but sharp, the memories clawing their way back to the surface.

"You see, Shadow, the truth is simple. You were never his priority."

"He left you. He escaped, and you? You were just another thing for him to outrun."

"Did you really think you meant anything to him? That any of it was real?"

Shadow squeezed his eyes shut.

He knew what they were trying to do.

He had seen it before, in others. The way they twisted memories, warped perceptions, planted seeds of doubt so deep that they took root in a person’s soul.

And yet.

He had believed them.

For nine years, he had believed them.

Every day, every waking moment, he had lived with the certainty that Sonic had abandoned him, that everything they had been, the rivalry, the fleeting camaraderie, the grudging understanding, had all been one-sided.

Because if that was the truth, then the anger had been easier to hold onto.

If that was the truth, then he didn’t have to feel anything else.

But now—

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Shadow’s gaze flickered downward, toward the unconscious figure beside him.

Sonic’s shoes, his new shoes, were scuffed against the car floor, the faint red sheen barely visible in the dim light.

His gloves were gone.

His bandages were fresh.

His body was thinner than it should be, his face lined with exhaustion he hadn’t yet shaken.

Everything about him, every piece of evidence, screamed that he hadn’t been living freely all this time. He had been suffering.

And that meant—

That meant the scientists had lied.

Or at least, not told the whole truth.

Because if Sonic had really abandoned him, why had he come back?

Why had he fought for him?

Why had he been the one who dragged Shadow’s body out of the wreckage, carrying him to safety even when he himself was barely holding together?

The rage Shadow had held onto for so long, the thing that had driven him, that had defined him for nearly a decade, was it all built on a lie?

His stomach twisted.

His own voice betrayed him, quiet, uncertain.

“…Why?”

Sonic didn’t stir.

Of course he didn’t.

Shadow exhaled slowly, staring out at the rain-streaked window.

Maybe the better question wasn’t why Sonic had come back.

Maybe the better question was—

Why did he still care?

Why, after everything, did Sonic still look at him like he was someone worth saving, worth loving?

Why did he still trust him enough to fall asleep next to him, despite every reason not to?

Shadow’s hands trembled slightly before he forced them still.

This isn’t real.

That was what the scientists had always told him.

"Your memories are unreliable."

"Your emotions are fabricated responses."

"Friendship. Loyalty. It’s all meaningless in the end."

"You were an experiment, Shadow. That’s all you’ve ever been. That’s all you’ll ever be."

He swallowed hard.

What if it was meaningless?

What if everything, their rivalry, their fights, their fleeting moments of understanding, had just been another experiment? A test to see how far he could be pushed? A game he had been too blind to realize he was playing?

The idea made something cold coil in his chest.

If he let himself believe otherwise, if he let himself believe that it had meant something, then that meant accepting a truth far worse than betrayal.

It meant accepting that he had spent nine years hating someone who had never deserved it.

It meant accepting that he had tried to kill the one person who had still come back for him.

It meant accepting that he was the one who had been wrong.

Shadow’s fingers dug into his arms, pressing hard enough to leave indentations in his fur.

He could still feel Sonic’s weight against him. Could still hear his breathing, steady and unguarded.

He had thought, for so long, that Sonic had left him behind.

But maybe…

Maybe Shadow was the one who had left.

He closed his eyes.

The rain continued to patter against the windshield.

The road stretched on, endless and unknown.

And for the first time in years, Shadow didn’t know where he stood.

Chapter Text

The cargo ship rocked beneath him, the scent of saltwater thick in the air, mixing with something metallic, something wrong. His hands were wrapped around Sonic’s throat, pressing down, down, down.

Sonic struggled beneath him, kicking, clawing weakly at Shadow’s grip, but his strength had already drained away. His pupils were blown wide, flickering with shock, pain, something unreadable. His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to ask why.

But no words came.

Shadow watched, unblinking, as the light in Sonic’s eyes dimmed, the fight leaving his body entirely. His hands slipped from Shadow’s wrists, falling limp at his sides. His chest stilled.

Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.

The rage that had been boiling in Shadow’s chest only moments before, burning, consuming, guiding his every movement, suddenly flickered, then vanished entirely, like a candle snuffed out.

This was supposed to be it. This was supposed to be what he had wanted. The final piece. The moment he had dreamed about for years, the moment that would finally, finally rid him of the ache in his chest, the thing that had driven him to the edge of insanity.

Sonic was dead.

And yet.

Shadow’s hands trembled, still locked around Sonic’s lifeless throat. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps, his heart hammering so violently it rattled his ribcage.

Something in his chest twisted, a sharp, hollow kind of pain, like he had torn out something vital without realizing it.

Why didn’t it feel right? Why didn’t he feel satisfied?

Why did it feel like he had just ripped away the only thing tethering him to reality?

A horrible sound tore from his throat, something between a snarl and a sob, and Shadow stumbled backward, his hands curling into fists as he pressed them against his temples.

"No," he rasped, shaking his head. "No, this isn’t—this isn’t how it was supposed to be."

But the body lying in front of him didn’t respond. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Shadow squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was burned into the back of his skull, seared into his very being.

Sonic was gone.

And Shadow had done it.

His stomach churned, nausea rising in his throat, and for the first time in his life, he wished he could undo something. He wished he could take it back. He wished—

Shadow jolted awake, gasping.

The nightmare clung to him like a second skin, phantom hands wrapping around his throat, his own hands shaking, shaking, shaking.

But there was warmth. A weight against him, familiar and steady. A soft, rhythmic sound, so different from the silence that had strangled him in his dream.

Breathing.

Sonic was still there, pressed against his shoulder, his quills brushing against Shadow’s arm with each slow rise and fall of his chest.

Alive.

Shadow exhaled shakily, his pulse still a frantic mess, but the relief was so overwhelming it nearly crushed him. It had just been a dream. A nightmare. A twisted illusion dredged up from the darkest corners of his mind.

But then his gaze flickered downward, and his breath hitched in his throat.

Sonic’s hand was in his.

At some point, in his sleep, Sonic had reached out, his bare fingers curled loosely around Shadow’s own. It was barely even a grip, just the lightest touch, like some subconscious attempt at seeking warmth, comfort.

Shadow stared at their joined hands, his heart stuttering in his chest.

He should pull away. He should shove Sonic off of him, fold his arms, put as much distance between them as possible. But he didn’t move.

He didn’t want to.

Because the truth was, despite everything, despite the storm raging in his head, despite the doubts clawing at his thoughts, there was a part of him, a part buried so, so deep. that didn’t want to let go.

He curled his fingers slightly, just enough to tighten the hold, just enough to feel the warmth of Sonic’s palm against his own.

Sonic stirred slightly at the movement, shifting in his sleep, but didn’t wake. He only exhaled a slow, quiet breath and pressed just a little closer, as if he had found something solid to anchor himself to.

Shadow swallowed hard, then tore his gaze away, staring out the window instead. The world outside was dark, illuminated only by the passing glow of streetlights, the rain having slowed to a soft drizzle.

Maddie was still driving, her eyes focused on the road, her grip steady on the wheel. She hadn’t noticed anything, too lost in her own thoughts.

Good.

Shadow wasn’t sure he could explain what this was. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to try.

The nightmare still lingered, curling at the edges of his mind, but it felt smaller now, more distant. Like it couldn’t quite reach him. Not here. Not in this moment.

Not with Sonic’s hand in his own, steady and warm.

Maybe, for just a little while, he would let himself hold on.

The road stretched on in endless dark ribbons, lit only by the distant flicker of passing streetlights. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the rhythmic pattering against the windshield a steady hum in the otherwise silent car. Maddie gripped the steering wheel with both hands, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror where two figures sat in the backseat.

Shadow hadn't moved much since he'd woken up, still feeling the ghostly echo of his dream clinging to him. He could still feel the phantom sensation of his hands tightening around Sonic’s throat, the way the hedgehog's struggling had gone slack. But when he had jolted awake, Sonic was still there, alive, warm, and his hand—

His hand was still loosely curled around Shadow’s own.

“Almost there,” Maddie muttered, breaking the silence.

Shadow finally pulled his gaze from the floor, looking toward the windshield as the car slowed in front of a rundown-looking motel. The neon vacancy sign flickered weakly, half the letters dimmed from neglect. The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a couple of cars that had seen better days. A gust of wind rattled a loose gutter along the building, the whole place carrying the air of somewhere people stopped only when they had nowhere else to go.

It would do.

Maddie pulled into a parking spot near the edge of the lot and shut off the engine. She exhaled, rubbing her temples before twisting in her seat to face them.

“Alright,” she said, voice hushed but firm. “This isn’t exactly five-star accommodations, but it’s the best we’ve got for now. You both need showers, actual rest, and I need to call Tom and update him. We’ll stay the night, leave early.”

Sonic shifted, finally stirring from his sleep. His fingers twitched against Shadow’s before he blinked groggily at Maddie. “Hotel?” he mumbled.

“Motel,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”

Sonic grunted but didn’t argue, rubbing at his eyes. Only then did he seem to notice his hand still resting against Shadow’s. His gaze flicked downward, blinking blearily at their linked fingers. For a split second, Shadow thought he might pull away.

He didn’t.

Instead, Sonic just stretched, rolling his shoulders like nothing was out of place. He finally let go, only to lazily thump Shadow’s arm in a gesture that was almost playful. “C’mon, big guy. Let’s go check out our luxury suite.”

Shadow scoffed but followed as Maddie led the way inside.

The motel lobby was as dingy as the outside suggested. Peeling wallpaper, a musty smell, a tired-looking man at the front desk who didn’t even spare the two boys a glance, probably for the best, as Maddie checked in. The exchange was brief. She took the keys, thanked the man, and motioned for them to follow her down the dimly lit hall.

Their room was small, two beds, a questionably clean bathroom, and a TV that looked like it hadn’t worked since the early 2000s. The air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and old carpet. Sonic wrinkled his nose but said nothing as he flopped face-first onto one of the beds with a heavy sigh.

Maddie tossed the keys onto the nightstand. “I’ll make my call outside. Shadow, you shower first. Sonic, you’re next.”

Sonic mumbled something incoherent into the mattress.

Maddie ignored him, pulling out her phone and heading toward the door. Before stepping out, she turned back toward Shadow. “You okay?”

Shadow blinked at her. The question caught him off guard. She wasn’t asking out of politeness. There was something knowing in her eyes, something that told him she had been paying attention. Maybe she had noticed how stiff he had been, or maybe she had seen the way he had hesitated when Sonic had touched him. Either way, she wasn’t prying. Just… checking.

Shadow didn’t answer, but that seemed to be enough for her. She gave him a small nod and left the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Silence settled again.

Shadow exhaled slowly, running a hand through his quills before moving toward the bathroom. He turned on the shower, the pipes groaning in protest before sputtering out warm water. He barely glanced at his reflection in the mirror before stripping off his shoes and cracked inhibitor rings, setting them carefully on the sink.

The warm water hit his fur, washing away the grime of the past few days, but it did little to untangle the knot in his chest.

He had been sure, so sure, that he knew the truth. That Sonic had left him behind, that everything they had been was a lie. But now, with every passing moment, every unconscious brush of familiarity, every undeniable piece of evidence that Sonic had suffered just as much as he had, that certainty was unraveling.

And in its place, something far more dangerous was creeping in.

Doubt.

Shadow clenched his jaw, bracing a hand against the tile wall.

He had spent nine years believing a lie.

What was he supposed to do with the truth?

The motel room was dimly lit, the old lamps casting a weak, yellowish glow over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet. The faint hum of the air conditioning unit filled the silence, barely audible over the distant patter of rain against the window. Shadow stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his quills, steam curling out from behind him. His fur still felt damp, but at least the grime was gone.

Sonic hadn’t moved from where he had flopped onto the bed earlier. His face was half-buried in the pillow, one ear twitching slightly, but otherwise, he remained still.

Shadow frowned. “Your turn.”

Sonic groaned into the pillow, kicking his legs in a half-hearted protest. “Pass.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected Sonic to be thrilled about showering, but the outright refusal felt off. He tossed the damp towel onto the back of a chair. “You stink,” he said flatly. “Get up.”

Sonic lifted his head just enough to glare at him. “Gee, thanks.”

Shadow crossed his arms. “I’m not kidding. You need to wash off.”

Sonic flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a look that was a little too blank. “I’ll live.”

A prickle of irritation crawled up Shadow’s spine. He wasn’t in the mood for games. He grabbed Sonic’s wrist, not hard, just enough to get his attention. “Sonic—”

The reaction was immediate.

Sonic yanked his hand back like he had been burned, scrambling away so fast he nearly tumbled off the bed. His breathing hitched, eyes going wide and wild for a split second before he caught himself. He forced out a laugh, but it was paper-thin, unsteady. “Dude, personal space.”

Shadow narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t normal.

Before he could press further, the faint murmur of Maddie’s voice drifted through the closed door. She was still outside, updating Tom. Her voice was calm but firm, the kind of tone used to smooth over worry while not downplaying a situation. Shadow knew the feeling.

He turned back to Sonic, who had pulled his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around them. His quills were still matted with dirt and blood, his fur stiff from salt and sweat, his bandages needed changed. He needed to clean up. Shadow didn’t get why he was making this so difficult.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just take a shower.”

Sonic’s grip on his own arms tightened. “I don’t want to.”

Shadow let out a slow breath, forcing himself to stay patient. “It’s just water.”

Sonic’s reaction was subtle but telling. His shoulders stiffened, his ears pinning back just slightly.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “Sonic.”

Sonic didn’t look at him. His fingers dug into his arms, knuckles going pale beneath the fur. “Drop it, Shadow.”

Understanding clicked into place like a puzzle piece snapping into a picture. Shadow had seen reactions like this before, had felt them in himself. Sonic wasn’t being stubborn. He was afraid.

Shadow took a step forward. Sonic tensed.

Shadow stopped.

His jaw tightened. “What happened to you?”

Sonic finally looked at him then, but it wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was something rawer, something haunted. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then shook his head. “Just… leave it alone.”

Shadow wanted to. He wanted to shrug it off, let Sonic handle whatever this was on his own. But the memory of his own nightmare still clung to him, the phantom sensation of his hands around Sonic’s throat, the horror of what he had felt, or rather, what he hadn’t felt.

He exhaled sharply. “You don’t have to like it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more even. “But you need to do it.”

Sonic shook his head, pressing himself further into the mattress like he could melt into it. “I can’t.”

The words weren’t a refusal. They were a plea.

Shadow’s hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to snap at him, wanted to tell him he was being ridiculous, that he was acting like a child. But something in Sonic’s face stopped him cold.

Before he could say anything, Maddie’s voice rose slightly outside the door. “I know, Rachel, I know! But I didn’t have a choice, he was coming, and I had to get them out of there!”

Rachel’s voice crackled faintly over the phone, too muffled to make out the words, but Shadow could guess the tone well enough. Frustrated. Sharp. Worried.

Maddie sighed. “I don’t know how much longer we have until he tracks us. We’re heading for Green Hills. Tom is ready, but—”

Shadow tuned her out, his focus shifting back to the trembling hedgehog in front of him. Sonic wasn’t looking at him anymore. His breathing was shallow, his fingers twitching against his arms like he was bracing for something that wasn’t coming.

Shadow let out a breath, running a hand down his face. “Fine,” he muttered. “Just, wash up however you can. Use a washcloth, whatever. Just don’t—” He cut himself off. Don’t let yourself rot, he wanted to say. Don’t act like you weren’t worth basic care.

Sonic exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders, though he still didn’t move. “...Thanks.”

Shadow turned away, heading for the other side of the room. He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

Outside, Maddie’s voice carried on, calm but firm. “Just tell me you’ll have things ready, Rachel. We don’t have time to argue.”

Shadow glanced toward the window, watching the rain as it trailed down the glass in thin, winding rivers. The road ahead was still uncertain, but for now, at least, they were still moving forward.

Sonic sat on the closed toilet lid, his ears pinned back as he stared at the sink. The mirror above it was fogged slightly from the warmth lingering in the air, remnants of Shadow’s earlier shower. He could hear the faint dripping of the faucet, the soft patter of water gathering in the basin.

His body ached, exhaustion settled deep in his bones, but the thought of stepping under the full force of the shower made his chest clench, his breathing hitch in a way he hated. He couldn't do it. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Instead, he reached for the small washcloth he had grabbed earlier, dipping it into the sink’s cool water. The fabric darkened, growing heavy, and Sonic wrung it out with slow, deliberate movements before dragging it over his arm. The sensation of dampness against his fur made his stomach twist, but it was better than the alternative.

He worked methodically, scrubbing the grime away in sections. His fingers trembled slightly when he ran the cloth over his stomach, the damp fabric catching on the edges of the bandages wrapped snugly around his torso.

He paused, staring down at them. The white cloth was stained, discolored where blood had seeped through over the past day. It needed to come off. He knew that. But he hesitated.

Swallowing thickly, Sonic peeled at the edges of the bandages, wincing as the fabric stuck to the wound beneath. He sucked in a sharp breath as he finally unraveled them, revealing the gash marring his stomach. It was healing, slowly compared to the speed his usual wounds heal, but the skin was still raw, still tender, a reminder of everything he had endured.

He traced a finger around the wound’s edge, his expression unreadable. How many scars had he gained over the years? How many would never fade?

Shaking himself, he soaked the cloth again and dabbed at the wound carefully, his ears twitching at the faint sting. He avoided looking at his reflection, not wanting to see the exhaustion painted across his features. He already felt it weighing on him.

When he finally finished, he leaned forward, bracing himself against the sink. His quills hung limply, his fur still damp in patches. The water swirling down the drain was murky, a testament to how much he had scrubbed away.

And yet, no matter how much he cleaned, he still felt unclean.

He exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of the sink. His eyes drifted to the closed door, half-expecting Shadow to barge in, to push him toward the shower again, to tell him he was being ridiculous. But the room was silent save for his own breathing.

He was alone.

Sonic lingered in the bathroom longer than he needed to, gripping the edge of the sink as he listened to the muffled sounds of the world beyond the door. The distant murmur of Maddie talking on the phone had faded, replaced by the hum of a cheap motel air conditioner. The knowledge that Shadow was right outside should have been comforting, but it only made the pressure in his chest tighten.

Eventually, he couldn’t stall any longer. With a deep breath, he drug a towel through his damp fur to dry, though his fingers still trembled slightly. He pressed one last glance at his reflection, noting the way his quills still clung to his face in damp patches, before he turned the knob and stepped out into the room.

The dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls. Shadow was sitting on the edge of one of the two small beds, arms crossed, gaze locked onto the floor as if lost in thought. His ear twitched at the sound of the door opening, but he didn’t say anything.

Sonic hesitated for only a second before padding further into the room. He barely had time to process the shift in atmosphere before the motel door swung open, and Maddie walked in, tucking her phone into her pocket. Her expression was tired, but her smile was soft as she glanced between them.

“Well, good news and bad news,” she started, clapping her hands together lightly. “Good news is, we have a place to stay for the night and tomorrow we should arrive in Green Hills. Bad news is, uh—” She gestured toward the beds. “They only had one room available, and it’s got two beds. So, you two are sharing.”

Sonic blinked. Shadow stiffened.

“Sharing,” Shadow repeated, his tone flat.

Maddie shrugged, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Yep. No couch, no extra bedding, just these two. So unless one of you wants to sleep on the floor—”

“No,” Sonic interrupted quickly, rubbing the back of his head. “The bed’s fine. It’s just sleep, right?”

Shadow shot him a sharp look but didn’t immediately protest. He looked like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, he just exhaled and leaned back on his hands. “Fine.”

Maddie smiled. “Great. Now that that’s settled, I suggest you both actually get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

Sonic hesitated, shifting his weight between his feet. Rest sounded nice. Really nice, actually. His body was already aching from exhaustion. But the idea of sharing a bed with Shadow? That was… something else entirely. Not bad, necessarily. Just…weird.

Shadow didn’t seem thrilled either, though he wasn’t saying anything about it. He just sat there, arms still crossed, his expression unreadable. Sonic had known him long enough to recognize when he was thinking too hard about something, and right now, he looked deep in thought.

Maddie, seemingly satisfied, walked over to her own bed and sat down, stretching with a quiet groan. “I’m gonna get some sleep too. We leave early.”

Sonic sighed, rolling his shoulders before eyeing the bed that he and Shadow were supposed to share. It wasn’t big by any means. It’d be a tight fit, but… it wasn’t like they had much of a choice.

Still, as he finally sat down on the mattress, his fur still slightly damp, he couldn’t help but wonder just how awkward this was going to get.

Sonic barely had time to settle on the mattress before Maddie’s voice pulled him back to reality.

“Before you get too comfortable,” she said gently, standing up from her bed and rummaging through a small bag she had brought in, “we need to redo your bandages for the night. We don’t want the scab getting irritated.”

Sonic stiffened. His fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket beneath him, his breath hitching just slightly. He hadn’t forgotten about the gash on his stomach, how could he? Every movement reminded him of it, but he had been hoping to ignore it for a little longer. Maybe even pretend, just for the night, that it wasn’t there at all.

But Maddie was already approaching, medical supplies in hand, her expression soft but firm. She knelt beside him, nodding toward his stomach. “Come on, let me see.”

Sonic hesitated. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air pressing in around him. His ears drooped slightly, but he obeyed, albeit reluctantly, shifting slightly to give her access to the wound.

The scabbed-over gash was exposed, raw and tender. Maddie frowned, her brows knitting together as she reached for a clean cloth. “This might sting a little,” she warned.

Sonic swallowed hard, bracing himself. But when she started dabbing at the wound with antiseptic, the sting wasn’t just little. It was sharp, raw, sending an involuntary shudder down his spine. He grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay still, but a choked whimper still escaped before he could stop it.

Maddie paused. “I know, I know,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “I’m almost done.”

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut, his hands fisting in the sheets beneath him. He wasn’t sure why it was so hard to keep himself together. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that, for once, someone was actually taking care of him, and he didn’t know how to handle that.

Another sharp sting, and he let out a quiet, broken noise. A few stray tears slipped down his cheeks before he could stop them.

“Hey,” Maddie’s voice softened further. “You’re okay. You’re doing great.”

Sonic bit the inside of his cheek, trying to steady his breathing. He felt Shadow’s eyes on him from across the room, but he didn’t look up. He couldn’t.

Maddie worked quickly, applying a clean layer of ointment before wrapping fresh bandages around his torso. Her hands were gentle, careful, but each touch still sent sharp pulses of pain through him. By the time she was done, Sonic was trembling slightly, his breaths uneven.

“There,” Maddie said softly, securing the bandages. “All set.”

Sonic exhaled shakily. He wiped at his face with the back of his hand, trying to pretend the dampness on his fur wasn’t there.

Maddie didn’t comment on it. She just patted his shoulder lightly, offering him the smallest of smiles before standing up. “Get some rest, okay?”

Sonic nodded weakly, his throat too tight to answer.

He didn’t look at Shadow. But he felt him watching.

The motel room was quiet except for the distant hum of the highway outside and the occasional creak of the old building settling into the night. The dim lamp by the bedside cast long, tired shadows across the walls, adding to the weight of exhaustion hanging in the air.

Sonic lay stiffly on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The sheets were scratchy, the mattress lumpy, and the air was thick with the musty scent of stale cigarette smoke. But he had slept in worse places. Much worse.

Shadow lay beside him, back turned, his quills fanned out in a natural barrier between them. He had barely moved since settling in, arms folded against his chest, his breathing quiet and measured. Sonic could feel the tension still clinging to the both of them, even with the temporary ceasefire of sleep on the horizon.

Sonic exhaled softly, shifting onto his side. His body ached, exhaustion gnawing at him, but his mind refused to quiet. It felt strange to be in a bed at all, strange to be in a space that wasn’t a cold floor or a metal slab. He should be grateful. Maddie had gone out of her way to make sure they were safe. He should just close his eyes and sleep.

But his instincts wouldn’t let him.

His gaze drifted to Shadow’s back. He was close, just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, even through the thin motel blanket. It was an odd comfort, something Sonic hadn’t realized he’d missed until now. The presence of another. The presence of him.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid, but his body moved before his mind could scold him for it, just like it had when they were hoglets. Carefully, hesitantly, Sonic curled in on himself, drawing his legs up and tucking his arms close. He shifted forward inch by inch, testing the distance, testing his limits.

Shadow’s quills were dangerous, and Sonic knew better than to press against them without thinking. But even with that natural boundary in place, he still managed to close most of the  distance between them. He wasn’t touching Shadow, not quite, but he was close enough to feel his body’s steady rise and fall with each breath.

It wasn’t enough.

He didn’t understand why it wasn’t enough, why he craved something more tangible, something real. Maybe it was the years of isolation, of pain, of never having anyone to reach for, never having anyone reach for him. Maybe it was the way Shadow had once held him by the throat, and now lay beside him as if the past had never happened. Maybe it was the way his body knew, before his mind did, that he wanted to feel safe.

His eyelids grew heavier, his body sinking into the mattress. His breathing slowed. Sleep was so close now, so close he could almost fall into it without a fight.

Then, just as he was about to succumb to exhaustion, he felt it.

Movement.

The faintest rustle of fabric, the smallest shift of weight on the bed. And then warmth.

Shadow turned over.

Sonic held his breath as he felt Shadow’s body move, felt the quills that had once separated them shift and angle away. And then, without hesitation, Shadow curled around him. His arm, light and uncertain, draped over Sonic’s side, his head settling just behind Sonic’s own, his warmth sinking into every cold, hollow space left inside of him.

Sonic’s eyes fluttered open, barely awake, barely aware, but undeniably feeling.

Shadow had moved toward him.

Shadow had reached back.

A lump formed in Sonic’s throat, but he swallowed it down, letting his muscles relax, letting his body accept what it had wanted all along. He exhaled softly, and this time, the tension left him with it.

Chapter Text

Maddie stirred awake, her body stiff from the lumpy mattress, the scent of old fabric softener and dust filling her nose. The dim glow of early morning seeped through the worn motel curtains, painting the room in muted hues of gold and gray. She blinked, adjusting to the light, before turning her head toward the other bed.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Sonic and Shadow lay tangled together in a mess of limbs, bodies unconsciously drawn toward each other despite everything. The thin motel blanket had slipped down, exposing the way Shadow’s arm curled protectively around Sonic’s waist, Sonic’s head tucked beneath his chin. Their quills, usually sharp and bristling, were now relaxed, blending together in a chaotic yet seamless mix of cobalt and obsidian.

Maddie almost didn’t want to move, afraid any shift in the air might break whatever fragile peace had settled over them.

Shadow, always so tense, so ready to strike, looked almost human in his rest, his brow smooth, his breathing deep and even. The usual storm that brewed behind his crimson eyes was hidden beneath heavy lids, and for once, he seemed… at ease. Sonic, in turn, looked small, curled into Shadow like he belonged there, as if the world hadn’t spent years trying to break him apart. His fur, still slightly damp from last night’s near-meltdown, stuck up in erratic tufts, and Maddie found herself wishing she could brush it down, smooth away the evidence of whatever nightmares still haunted him.

A lump formed in her throat. She knew this wasn’t something either of them would acknowledge when awake, not yet, maybe not ever. But here, in sleep, their bodies spoke a truth their minds refused to accept. They needed each other. Desperately.

Maddie exhaled softly and eased herself up, careful not to make too much noise as she reached for her phone. A quick glance told her it was barely past seven. She considered letting them sleep longer, but they couldn’t stay here very long past checkout. Tom was waiting, Green Hills was waiting.

Still, she hesitated. For all the chaos of the past few days, this moment of quiet felt sacred.

Sonic stirred first, shifting slightly as he let out a barely audible murmur, his fingers twitching against Shadow’s chest. Maddie froze, watching as his ears flicked, his nose scrunching slightly before he burrowed further into the warmth against him. Shadow instinctively pulled him closer, his grip tightening for a split second before his own body betrayed him, pulling him deeper into sleep.

Maddie bit her lip, unsure whether to smile or cry.

Instead, she stood and stretched, grabbing her bag to start getting ready. If she focused on the little things, brushing her teeth, changing into fresh clothes, checking the GPS, it was easier to ignore the ache settling in her heart. These boys had been through hell, and despite everything, they still gravitated toward one another like it was inevitable.

She just hoped, when they woke, they wouldn’t shove each other away.

By the time she had freshened up, Sonic had begun to stir again. This time, his movements were more deliberate. His ears twitched, and he let out a long, slow breath, blinking blearily. His gaze, still heavy with sleep, landed on Shadow, and for a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

Then, as if reality slowly crept back into him, Sonic tensed, his breath hitching. His eyes darted to Maddie, wide and startled, like a child caught somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.

“You’re fine,” Maddie whispered, her voice gentle, reassuring, “Just get up slowly.”

Sonic swallowed hard, then carefully, so carefully, untangled himself from Shadow’s grasp. The movement made Shadow grunt slightly, his brows furrowing, but he didn’t wake. Sonic hesitated, his fingers hovering for half a second over Shadow’s before he curled them into fists and scooted away entirely.

Maddie pretended not to notice the way he immediately wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to replace the warmth he’d lost.

“You okay?” she asked softly, keeping her tone light.

Sonic rubbed his eyes. “M’fine,” he mumbled, though he didn’t sound convinced. He glanced toward Shadow again, his expression unreadable, before shaking his head, “What time is it?”

“Almost eight. We should get moving soon.”

Sonic nodded, stretching before hopping off the bed. Maddie watched as he shuffled toward his bag, the one Maddie had packed for him and Shadow. It had cheap one-use toothbrushes and tiny bags of soap. Sonic only pretended to rummage through it but never actually pulled anything out. His movements were slow, uncertain. She recognized that look, one of someone trying to piece together something fragile, something that didn’t make sense.

She wanted to say something, but before she could, a deep groan filled the air.

Shadow stirred, his muscles tensing before relaxing again. His eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused, and when they landed on Sonic, for a split second, there was something soft in them. Something raw.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He inhaled sharply, pushing himself up with an unreadable expression. His gaze flickered between Sonic and Maddie before he looked away entirely.

“…We leaving soon?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.

Maddie gave him a small smile, “Yeah. I’ll grab some food while you two get cleaned up.”

Shadow grunted, running a hand through his quills. Sonic shifted on his feet, his body language screaming hesitance.

Maddie sighed, grabbing her keys. She stepped outside, the morning air crisp against her skin, she couldn’t help but glance back at the door.

Maybe, just maybe, they’d be okay. She could only hope. 

The counter in the bathroom barely had enough space for the tiny complimentary soaps, let alone two hedgehogs trying to figure out how to use a toothbrush for the first time.

Sonic eyed the flimsy plastic toothbrush Maddie had packed for them, holding it between two fingers like it was some kind of alien artifact, "Okay, so… how does this thing work again?"

Shadow stood beside him, his own toothbrush gripped a little too tightly, like he expected it to fight back. "You’re asking me?" He scoffed, "I’ve never used one either."

Sonic tilted his head, "Yeah, but you were in that facility longer. Didn’t they ever, like… teach you?"

Shadow’s expression darkened for half a second before he grunted, turning on the faucet, "They didn’t care about things like that. We were kept clean, but not like this."

Sonic decided not to push further. Instead, he squinted at the little tube of toothpaste, flipping it over in his hands before finally squeezing it. A generous glob of pale blue gel plopped onto the sink. He blinked at it, "Huh. Didn’t expect it to be so… goopy."

Shadow mimicked him, albeit more cautiously, managing to get a smaller amount onto his toothbrush’s bristles, "I assume we just… put it in our mouths and brush?" He shot Sonic a look, "You go first."

Sonic frowned, "Why do I have to go first?"

"Because if something goes wrong, I’d rather watch you deal with it first."

"Wow. Rude." Sonic rolled his eyes but raised the toothbrush to his mouth. The moment the bristles touched his teeth, an overpowering minty burn spread across his tongue. He yelped, pulling the toothbrush away as his quills stood on end, "Gah! What the heck!?"

Shadow flinched, "What? What happened?"

Sonic coughed, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "It’s—ugh—it’s super strong! Like eating ice and fire at the same time!"

Shadow frowned, looking at his own toothbrush with mild suspicion before cautiously placing it in his mouth. His eyes widened slightly at the intense, icy sensation. He didn’t immediately react, though, merely pulling the brush away and exhaling slowly through his nose, "…Tolerable."

Sonic shot him a glare, still fanning his tongue, "Oh, sure, Mr. Ultimate Lifeform can handle it just fine."

Shadow smirked faintly, but his amusement quickly faded as he tried moving the brush against his teeth. The sensation of stiff bristles scraping against enamel made his fur bristle slightly, and he hesitated, "This… feels strange."

Sonic tried again, more carefully this time, brushing in short strokes like he had seen Maddie do before, "Yeah, tell me about it. It’s like… scrubbing your mouth with a tiny broom."

Shadow, still unsure, mirrored the motion. For a few moments, the bathroom was filled with the awkward sound of bristles rasping against teeth.

"I think we’re doing it right?" Sonic mumbled through a mouthful of foam. Then he frowned. "Wait, how do we get it out of our mouths?"

Shadow blinked at him, then at his own brush, now covered in frothy toothpaste, "…Spit it out, obviously."

Sonic pulled the brush from his mouth, leaned over the sink, and attempted to spit, only for the foam to dribble embarrassingly down his chin. He groaned, wiping at his face with the back of his arm, "Ugh, gross. Why is this so complicated?"

Shadow, ever the perfectionist, tried to spit more precisely, managing a cleaner result. He rinsed his mouth quickly, then his brush, before giving Sonic a pointed look, "It’s not that hard."

Sonic glared, "Next time, you go first."

Shadow smirked slightly before turning to inspect his reflection in the mirror. He ran his tongue over his teeth experimentally, "Hm. They feel… smoother."

Sonic did the same and blinked in surprise, "Hey, yeah, they do! That’s actually kinda nice."

They both stared at themselves in the mirror for a long moment, still processing the whole experience. Then Sonic snorted.

"What?" Shadow asked.

"Nothing, just… look at us." Sonic gestured vaguely, "Two battle-worn, genetically enhanced hedgehogs struggling to figure out a basic hygiene routine. It’s kinda funny, don’t you think?"

Shadow huffed but didn’t argue, "I suppose it is… unusual."

Sonic smirked, "Admit it, it’s funny."

Shadow rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the ghost of a smile, "Fine. A little."

Sonic grinned, leaning back against the sink, "Well, at least we won’t have to go through that disaster every time. Next time, we’ll be brushing like pros."

Shadow gave a small nod, placing his toothbrush down neatly, "I should hope so."

As they cleaned up the counter, rinsing away stray toothpaste blobs and setting their brushes aside, the atmosphere between them felt a little lighter. Just a little.

Maybe it was just a toothbrush, just a small step toward something normal. But to Sonic, it felt like a tiny victory. And from the way Shadow’s shoulders seemed just a bit less tense, he figured maybe, just maybe, Shadow felt it too.

Maddie returned to the motel room balancing a few flimsy styrofoam plates in her hands, the smell of lukewarm eggs and stale toast wafting through the air. The breakfast spread was exactly what she expected from a place like this, rubbery scrambled eggs, slightly damp sausage links, toast that was somehow both burnt and undercooked, and small cups of fruit that looked like they’d been sitting in syrup for days. The coffee was an insult to caffeine itself, but it was free, and it was hot.

She nudged the door open with her shoulder, stepping inside, "Alright, I got us some food. It’s not five-star dining, but it’s something."

The moment Sonic caught a whiff of it, his stomach gave an embarrassingly loud growl. He practically vibrated in place, his eyes locked onto the plates like a starving animal. Before she could even set them down, he reached out, fingers grasping for the nearest one.

Maddie swiftly pulled it out of reach. "Ah-ah, not here," she said firmly, giving him a knowing look, "We’re eating in the car. We need to get on the road."

Sonic’s face fell dramatically, "But—!"

Shadow, who’d found his way to the edge of the bed, arms crossed, narrowed his eyes,"You act like you’ve never seen food before."

Sonic shot him a glare but didn’t retort. Because, well… Shadow wasn’t entirely wrong. Food, real food, had been a luxury he never really got at the facility. His meals had been cold, flavorless sludge, packed with whatever nutrients the scientists decided he needed but with none of the things that made eating enjoyable. He didn’t even know if he had a favorite food. Just that this smelled better than anything he’d ever had, except for the toast that he had at Rachel’s house, which had come from God Himself. 

Maddie softened, seeing the frustration in his face, "I promise we’ll eat as soon as we get to the car. We just don’t have time to sit down right now."

Sonic sighed, defeated, his stomach making another impatient noise in protest. Shadow didn’t say anything, but Maddie noticed his gaze lingered on the food, his usual blank expression betraying just the smallest hint of interest.

"Come on, grab your stuff," Maddie urged, heading toward the door.

Sonic and Shadow exchanged glances before following her out. The cold morning air hit them the second they stepped outside, crisp and fresh compared to the musty motel room. Maddie wasted no time unlocking the car, and Sonic was already in his seat before she even had the chance to settle into hers, looking at her expectantly like an overgrown puppy.

"Alright, alright, here," she said, handing him a plate before passing one to Shadow, who took it with far less enthusiasm but no less urgency.

Sonic didn’t hesitate. The moment the food was in his hands, he all but inhaled a fistful of eggs. They were lukewarm and slightly rubbery, but to him, they were heavenly. He had to stop himself from shoveling it all into his mouth at once, instead forcing himself to chew slower, savoring the texture, and the simple fact that it was real food and not something force-fed through a tube.

Shadow was less frantic, but Maddie noticed how quickly he was eating as well, barely pausing between bites. His expression remained neutral, but there was no denying that, despite the poor quality of the meal, he was eating like someone who hadn’t had a proper breakfast in years, because, well… he hadn’t.

Maddie sipped her coffee, watching them both. It was almost heartbreaking, seeing them like this, so grateful for something so basic.

"Slow down, you two," she said gently. "The food’s not going anywhere."

Sonic swallowed down a too-big bite of toast, coughing slightly before flashing her a sheepish grin, "Force of habit."

Shadow, without looking up, muttered, "It’s not bad."

Maddie snorted, "That’s the most generous review this food has probably ever gotten."

Sonic, mid-bite of a sausage link, paused. He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, "I mean… it’s not good. But it’s better than sludge."

"High praise," Maddie said dryly, shaking her head with a smile, "Don’t worry, Tom will have something much better waiting for us when we get to Green Hills."

Shadow’s chewing slowed at the mention of Tom, his gaze flickering toward the window. He didn’t say anything, but the tension in his posture returned, just slightly. Maddie noticed, but she didn’t comment. Now wasn’t the time.

Sonic, meanwhile, perked up, "Oh yeah? What kind of stuff does he make?"

"Oh, you’ll see," Maddie teased, "Let’s just say it’ll be worth the drive."

Sonic hummed, finishing off the last of his eggs. Despite the lackluster quality, his stomach was full in a way he hadn’t experienced in longer than he could remember. It felt… nice.

Shadow set his empty plate aside, exhaling quietly. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something almost content in the way he leaned back slightly, his usual stiffness lessened just a fraction.

Maddie smiled to herself.

It wasn’t much. Just a cheap motel breakfast eaten in a car on the side of a highway. But for them, it was something more. A small step toward something better.

The hum of the car engine quickly filled the space, steady and rhythmic, almost soothing, at least to Maddie. She kept her hands on the wheel, eyes flicking between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. The landscape had started to shift, the towering trees giving way to rolling hills, the sky above a vast expanse of pale blue streaked with wisps of white clouds. They were getting closer to Green Hills. Closer to home.

Sonic, however, did not share her appreciation for the calm.

In the backseat, he fidgeted. His feet tapped against the floor in a rapid, impatient rhythm. His fingers drummed against his knees, then against the door, then against the seatbelt. Every few seconds, he would shift positions, leaning against the window, then flopping back against the seat, then scooting an inch closer to Shadow before thinking better of it and shifting away again.

He exhaled sharply, puffing his cheeks out, “Ugh, how much longer?”

Shadow, sitting beside him, tensed. His arms were crossed, his body angled slightly away from Sonic as if sheer willpower alone could create more space between them. His crimson eyes flicked to the side, watching Sonic’s endless movements with growing irritation.

Maddie glanced at the mirror again, “About another hour.”

Sonic groaned, dragging his hands down his face, “An hour? That’s, like, forever.”

“It’s sixty minutes,” Shadow muttered, his tone flat.

“Exactly,” Sonic shot back, “That’s forever.”

Shadow’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled slightly where they rested on his arm, and Maddie could practically hear the restrained sigh he refused to let out.

The fidgeting didn’t stop. Sonic kicked his feet out, then pulled them back. He drummed against the door again. He hummed something under his breath.

Shadow finally snapped, “Stop moving.”

Sonic blinked at him, “I’m not moving.”

“You haven’t stopped moving since we got in the car.”

“Well, yeah. Sitting still is boring.”

“It’s necessary,” Shadow gritted out, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to physically force Sonic to be still, “and you are insufferable.”

Sonic grinned, leaning just a little closer, “Aw, you think I’m insufferable? That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far.”

Shadow gave him a withering look before turning his gaze out the window, pointedly ignoring him.

Maddie fought back a chuckle, “Sonic, why don’t you look outside for a bit? It’s a nice view.”

Sonic sighed dramatically but did as suggested, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. “I guess it’s kinda nice,” he admitted, “Still wanna run, though.”

“You’ll have time for that when we get home,” Maddie reassured, “Just try to hold out for a little longer.”

Sonic huffed but settled, if only slightly. Shadow, too, seemed to relax, though only marginally, but it didn’t last for long.

Shadow’s scowl deepened as Sonic bounced his knee for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. The blue hedgehog wasn’t even aware he was doing it, his leg jittering up and down like it had a mind of its own. His fingers tapped a frantic rhythm on his knee, and every few seconds, he let out a tiny sigh or hum, as if the silence was unbearable.

It was.

Sonic had been cooped up in that facility for years, but sitting still was still torture in its own right. They had been on the road for what felt like an eternity, and the blurred trees and open road weren’t enough to distract him from the fact that he wasn’t moving. Running. Existing the way he was meant to.

He shifted again, swinging his legs up onto the seat. Then down. Then back up. Shadow’s eye twitched.

“Can you sit still?” Shadow growled, arms crossed as he stared out the window.

Sonic huffed, “I physically cannot.”

“Try.”

“I did,” Sonic threw himself backward against the seat dramatically, “For, like, ten whole seconds. That’s gotta be a record.”

Shadow inhaled sharply, gripping his arms tighter, “You are insufferable.”

“And you are grumpy.”

“Because you won’t stop moving!”

“I can’t help it! It feels like I’ve been sitting here for hours! We’re just, just trapped in this tiny space, and I can’t do anything!” Sonic threw his hands up in frustration, then pointed at the road ahead, “There’s nothing to look at but trees! And I like trees, but come on, man, I need stimulation!”

Shadow rubbed his temple, “Your voice is stimulation enough.”

“Oh, ha ha. Real funny, Sripes.”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Maddie’s voice cut in from the driver’s seat before the bickering could escalate further, “I get that it’s been a long drive, but let’s not fight.”

Sonic crossed his arms, huffing, “Tell him that.”

Shadow glared at him, “I don’t start fights.”

Sonic snorted, “Oh, please.”

Maddie sighed, “Okay, clearly, you two need a distraction. We can play a game or listen to music or something.”

Both hedgehogs turned to her, looking equally puzzled.

“A game?” Shadow asked, as if the word was foreign.

“Music?” Sonic echoed, intrigued but hesitant, “Like… like some kind of experiment?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but the thought had already taken root. The way Maddie had said it, like she was offering something new, something unknown, had set off alarm bells in his head. That’s how it always started, wasn’t it? A casual suggestion, a soft voice luring him in, pretending it was something harmless.

His mind flickered back to unforgiving rooms, to voices murmuring promises that whatever they were about to do was for his own good . It never was, he and Shadow had both learned that the hard way. Sonic could still feel phantom restraints around his wrists, still hear the distant hum of machinery warming up, still taste the metallic tang of fear whenever a scientist spoke in that calm, coaxing way.

Maddie wasn’t a scientist. She wasn’t one of them . He knew that. But the moment she’d said “music” like it was some foreign thing she wanted to introduce to them, something unfamiliar to be tested out, Sonic's instincts flared up like a struck match.

He darted a glance at Shadow, half-expecting to see the same wariness reflected in him, but Shadow just sat there, stiff and unreadable. Maybe he was thinking it too. Maybe he wasn’t.

Either way, Sonic’s pulse kicked up, and for just a split second, he had to remind himself: She’s not the enemy.

Maddie’s heart ached a little at that, “No, not like that. Music is supposed to be fun. You know, songs? Instruments? Something that makes you feel good?”

Shadow frowned, looking away. Sonic scratched his head, “I mean, I know what music is, but I don’t think I’ve ever just… listened to it.”

Maddie gave them a sympathetic glance in the rearview mirror, “Then let’s fix that. I’ve got a playlist, let me know if you like anything.”

She tapped her phone, and suddenly, soft guitar chords filled the car. Sonic perked up immediately, ears twitching as he focused. Shadow remained stiff, but his eyes narrowed slightly as if analyzing every note.

The song picked up, the melody light and cheerful. Sonic’s foot started tapping again, but this time, it wasn’t out of frustration, it was in sync with the beat. Shadow sighed but said nothing.

Maddie smiled,  “See? Better than arguing, right?”

Sonic smirked, “We’ll see.”

Shadow just grumbled, but he didn’t tell her to turn it off.

Sonic’s ears flicked, eyes widening slightly, and before Maddie could glance at him through the rearview mirror, he leaned forward as if drawn in by the sound itself. His fingers started tapping on his knees, his foot bouncing to the beat. Slowly, his expression melted from curiosity into something more amazed, like he was hearing something rare and precious for the first time.

“This is music?” he asked, almost breathless.

Maddie smiled, “Yep. Just my playlist, though. There are tons of different kinds of music out there.”

Sonic turned to Shadow, excitement bubbling in his voice, “Did you know about this?”

Shadow barely spared him a glance, “I know what music is,” he muttered, unimpressed.

Sonic scoffed, shaking his head, “Okay, yeah, but have you actually listened to it? This is awesome!”

He started nodding along with the song, his movements loose and in sync with the rhythm. When the chorus kicked in, he even hummed, off-key and a little too loud, but it was clear he was enjoying himself. His foot tapped out the beat against the car’s floor, and he drummed his hands against his knees, completely caught up in the moment.

Shadow, in contrast, remained stiff, shoulders squared, expression unreadable. He hadn’t moved an inch since the music started, and his silence stood out more with Sonic practically vibrating next to him.

Sonic noticed. He smirked, “C’mon, you can’t tell me this isn’t at least a little cool.”

Shadow exhaled through his nose, “It’s noise.”

Sonic gasped, clutching his chest dramatically, “You wound me.” He grinned, clearly undeterred, “You’ve just never let yourself enjoy it. You should try.”

Shadow rolled his eyes and turned his gaze out the window, effectively ending the conversation.

Maddie watched the interaction with quiet amusement, but her smile softened as she saw the contrast between them, Sonic so open and eager, Shadow so guarded. The way Sonic had latched onto something as simple as music spoke volumes about what he had been missing all his life. The same went for Shadow, but in a different way. They had both been deprived of normalcy, but while Sonic grabbed at new experiences with both hands, Shadow kept them at arm’s length, hesitant to accept anything unfamiliar.

Wanting to shift the topic to something lighter, she spoke up, “You know, if you like this, you’re really gonna love Green Hills.”

Sonic, still bouncing in place, perked up immediately, “Yeah?”

Maddie nodded, glancing at him in the mirror, “It’s quiet but in a nice way. Lots of open space, lots of trees. Tom and I have a house near the edge of town, big backyard, not a lot of neighbors. It’s the kind of place where you can actually hear yourself think.”

“That sounds amazing,” Sonic said, practically glowing.

Shadow, once again, remained silent.

Maddie noticed but didn’t push. Instead, she continued, “The people there are nice, too. Small-town vibe, everyone kind of knows each other. Tom’s the sheriff, so he keeps things safe. And Rachel, well, you already met Rachel. She doesn’t live in Green Hills, but she visits occasionally.”

Sonic snickered, “Yeah. She’s a lot.”

Maddie laughed, “She grows on you.”

Shadow finally spoke, though his tone was laced with skepticism, “And you think we’ll just… fit in?”

Maddie glanced at him, “I think Tom and I will do everything we can to make sure you’re safe.”

Shadow looked away again, clearly uneasy. The idea of settling somewhere, of trusting people he didn’t know, didn’t sit well with him. He wasn’t built for peace. He had spent too long fighting, surviving. The thought of a ‘quiet life’ felt like a foreign concept.

Sonic, however, was on the opposite end of the spectrum. “I can’t wait to see it,” he said, practically bouncing in his seat, “I mean, I don’t even know what a real home is like, but it sounds awesome.”

Shadow’s ear twitched at that, but said nothing.

Maddie gave Sonic a warm smile, “I think you’re gonna love it.” Then, she glanced at Shadow, her voice gentler, “And I think, if you give it a chance, you might, too.”

Shadow didn’t respond, but Maddie could see the flicker of uncertainty in his expression.

Chapter Text

The car rolled slowly up the long driveway, tires crunching against the gravel. Maddie’s hands gripped the wheel, a tense silence hanging in the air. As they pulled to a stop, Sonic and Shadow both straightened up, their eyes darting toward the house that was supposed to be their temporary refuge, at least, that was what Maddie hoped it would be.

Sonic and Shadow exchanged a brief glance, the shared tension palpable between them. They’d never met Tom before, and neither had any idea what to expect. The house was large, nestled on the edge of town with a sprawling yard and a few buildings scattered around. But despite the comfort it offered, there was something off-putting about the way Tom hadn’t rushed out to greet them. The longer they sat in the car, the more their nerves jangled.

Finally, the front door of the house opened, and Tom stepped out. His posture was stiff, his eyes darting between the two hedgehogs in the backseat, a hesitant frown tugging at his lips. He wasn’t the warm, friendly figure they had imagined, like Maddie. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw clenched in a way that made it clear this situation was already testing his patience.

As Tom approached the car, Sonic sat up straighter, instinctively putting less distance between himself and Shadow, though it was more out of habit than anything. The anxiety from before, the nervous tension that had plagued him for years, was back, only now it was masked by a thin layer of forced bravado. He was good at pretending, good at faking confidence, but in moments like these, it was hard to ignore the ever-present gnawing uncertainty.

Shadow didn’t make a move. He simply crossed his arms, his eyes cold and guarded, staring directly at Tom.

Maddie quickly put the car in park and smiled, though it was strained. “Tom,” she called through the open window, “These are the boys I told you about, Sonic and Shadow.”

Tom nodded curtly, the edges of his mouth tightening in what could have been an awkward attempt at a smile. “Yeah, I remember,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if unsure what to do next. His gaze flicked to Sonic’s stomach, noticing the wrapped gauze and the lingering signs of injury. It seemed to make him flinch, his discomfort only growing.

Sonic shifted uneasily in his seat, but Maddie quickly climbed out of the car and moved to open the back door. She caught Tom’s eye as she did, a silent apology lingering in her gaze. Tom seemed to understand, but only barely.

“Uh, yeah, let’s get you two inside,” Tom said, his voice low, almost hesitant, “But… just so we’re clear, this is temporary, alright? I’m not… I’m not sure about all of this.”

His words hit Sonic like a slap, and his chest tightened. He hadn’t realized that Tom, of all people, would be so uncomfortable around them, like they were a burden. He wanted to say something, wanted to defend himself or make a joke, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and followed Maddie as she led the way toward the house.

As they walked toward the door, a sudden bark split the air, followed by the sound of paws skittering on the porch. The noise startled both Sonic and Shadow, and they instinctively froze.

“Oh, great, here he comes,” Tom muttered under his breath, his tone more resigned than affectionate, “Ozzy, sit.”

The dog, an energetic, medium-sized golden retriever with shaggy fur and a wild look in his eyes, bounded toward them. His bark was sharp, almost eager, but the moment he spotted the hedgehogs, his excitement quickly turned into a cautious sniff. He paused just a few feet away from them, tail wagging hesitantly.

Sonic’s eyes widened in alarm. He had never seen a dog before, and the sight of the creature coming at him so suddenly made him tense up. His stomach churned uneasily, the old instincts kicking in, panic rising in his chest. The last thing he wanted was to have some unknown animal come near him, especially after everything he’d been through.

Shadow, too, took a wary step back. His body stiffened, his eyes locked onto the dog. He didn’t trust anything that wasn’t human, or hedgehog. And the dog certainly didn’t look trustworthy.

Tom took a step forward, trying to pull Ozzy back with a firm tug on the leash he had attached. “Easy, buddy,” he muttered, casting a sideways glance at Sonic and Shadow, “Sorry about this.”

Maddie, sensing the boys’ unease, crouched down to Ozzy’s level, “Hey, buddy, easy. They’re just a little… unsure. Give them a second.”

Sonic took a deep breath, slowly edging away from the dog, his back pressed against the car. “What… what is that thing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s Ozzy,” Maddie said with a soft chuckle, “He’s a dog. Don’t worry, he’s friendly. He’s just not used to meeting new people either.”

Sonic glanced at Shadow, his eyes wide with uncertainty. Shadow said nothing, his gaze still fixed on Ozzy, watching the dog’s every movement.

Tom cleared his throat awkwardly, his hand still gripping the leash. “Look, I… I don’t know what you two are expecting, but I’m just trying to make sure everyone’s safe. I can’t… I can’t have you two here indefinitely, alright? I have my own life, my own responsibilities. This isn’t—this isn’t something I was prepared for.”

Maddie turned toward Tom, her expression soft but firm, “Tom, they’re not a burden. They’ve been through a lot. They just need a place to rest, to heal.”

Tom exhaled sharply, his eyes flicking between Sonic and Shadow, then back to Ozzy, who had settled down a bit, though still eyeing the hedgehogs warily. “I get it, but I can’t just—” he trailed off, rubbing his forehead, “I’m not built for this, Maddie.”

Sonic finally spoke up, trying to keep his voice steady, “We’re not here to stay forever. Just… just for a bit. We don’t want to be a hassle.”

Tom sighed, his posture relaxing just slightly, “I don’t want to make things harder for you. It’s just... a lot to take in.”

Shadow said nothing but stepped forward, crossing his arms as he looked at Tom. His gaze was still cold but not hostile, more calculating. His expression softened just a fraction, his own reservations about being around a stranger, and a dog, warring with his desire to keep Maddie’s trust.

Maddie gently nudged Sonic, then Shadow, guiding them toward the door, “Come on, let’s get you inside. Ozzy can stay in the backyard for now. We’ll talk more later.”

Tom hesitated for a moment before nodding and stepping aside to let them in.

Inside the house was cozy, lived-in. It smelled like home, warm, inviting, but not without its own hints of a life that had been disrupted. The shelves were filled with knick-knacks and photos, the kitchen counter cluttered with reminders of a busy household. The space was larger than Maddie had led them to believe, yet the quiet hum of the place felt almost too big, like it was waiting for something, or someone, to fill it.

But as they stepped inside, both Sonic and Shadow could feel the weight of the moment. Neither of them had any illusions about what was to come. They were safe for now, but there was no guarantee that would last.

And that uncertainty, that lingering sense of not belonging, hung in the air, heavier than any threat they had faced before.

Tom led them into the living room, the large windows letting in the afternoon light, but there was something about the room that made it feel colder than it should. The furniture was simple, functional, a far cry from the chaotic warmth of Maddie’s earlier home. There was a space that seemed like it could be for a family: a big couch, a few chairs, and a coffee table littered with magazines and papers. But it all seemed... unfinished.

Sonic shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around as though expecting something to jump out at him. Shadow, on the other hand, remained still, his arms still crossed tightly across his chest. He wasn’t sure what to make of this place, or Tom’s behavior. There was a clear unease emanating from the man, something that felt… off.

“Take a seat,” Tom said, his tone still rough, though he was trying to sound accommodating. His eyes flickered nervously to Sonic and Shadow but avoided holding their gaze for long, “I’ll get you both some water, and we can talk more.”

Neither hedgehog moved. They exchanged a glance, and Sonic spoke up, his voice low but firm. “Thanks, but we’re fine for now,” he wanted to avoid being too much of a burden.

Tom sighed, clearly frustrated, “Look, I just… I’m trying to help. I’m not great with this kind of thing, okay? But I’ll do what I can.” He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor as if searching for the right words.

“Do you have a plan for us?” Shadow’s voice was quiet, but it carried an underlying tension, “Or are we just supposed to wait here until you’ve decided what to do with us?”

Tom flinched, but Maddie quickly intervened. “Tom’s not saying it like that. He just… needs some time to process everything. You’re both safe here. You don’t have to worry about that.”

There was a pause. Sonic glanced at Shadow again. He could feel the simmering discomfort in the air. The quiet was deafening, as if everyone was waiting for the next move.

Then Ozzy burst in from the hallway, tail wagging furiously, his sharp bark breaking the silence. He ran straight for Sonic, eager to sniff him out. Sonic froze in place, his body going rigid with the dog now just inches from his face.

Shadow stepped in between them, his protective instincts kicking in. He didn’t trust the dog. He didn’t trust anything right now, not even this so-called "safe" house.

Tom groaned and grabbed his collar, pulling Ozzy back with a stern command, “Ozzy, stop it! Not now.” He gave Sonic an apologetic glance, “He’s just excited.”

“I’m not a fan of dogs,” Sonic muttered, barely able to conceal his discomfort. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more, the dog itself or the idea that they had no control over the situation, no plan.

Tom sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll take him out back.”

“Thanks,” Sonic said, his voice barely above a murmur.

The silence returned again, but this time it wasn’t as awkward. Sonic glanced at Shadow, who had moved to the far side of the room, leaning against the wall. His arms were still crossed, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. Sonic joined him, unsure of where to sit or what to do next. They had a lot to talk about, but the air in the house felt too heavy for any of it.

Maddie kneeled down in front of them, her expression softening as she looked at the boys, “You don’t have to worry. We’ll figure things out, alright?”

Shadow nodded stiffly, not exactly reassured but at least acknowledging Maddie’s attempt. Sonic gave her a small, half-hearted smile. The uncertainty was still there, but at least for now, they were together.

Maddie gave a soft, reassuring smile before standing up, “Come on, you two. Let me show you to your room.”

Sonic and Shadow exchanged glances, both of them still feeling the weight of the tension in the air. Maddie’s voice was like a calm in the storm, but it couldn’t erase the unease they felt from their uncertain situation, or the lingering discomfort from their encounter with Ozzy.

“It's not much,” Maddie continued as she walked toward the stairs, her voice gently pulling them out of their thoughts, “But it’s got a bed and some privacy. You can rest there for now. I’ll let you get settled, okay?”

Sonic hesitated, but Shadow silently followed Maddie up the staircase, his usual guarded expression still in place. Sonic, after a beat, trailed behind, his steps quiet as he moved through the house with a cautious energy, as though expecting something to go wrong at any moment.

They reached the top of the stairs, and Maddie led them to the door of the attic. The wooden floors creaked underfoot as she pushed open the door, revealing a simple but functional room. It was a small space, but cozy, with slanted walls and a single window letting in the light of the midday sun. A bed covered in a thick, worn blanket took up most of the space, with a small dresser tucked in the corner and a couple of chairs pushed against the wall, along with many cardboard boxes. It was sparse, but there was a warmth to the room that made it feel like a refuge, despite the sparse surroundings.

“This is it,” Maddie said, stepping inside and looking around for a moment, “You two can stay here while I talk to Tom downstairs. I’ll check in on you in a bit, alright?”

Sonic looked around, unsure of what to make of the room. He had never been in a place like this, not really. It wasn’t the clean, sterile environment he’d been used to in the facility, but there was still a sense of normalcy here that both comforted and unsettled him. He could still feel the ache in his stomach, though it was no longer bleeding, a constant reminder of how far he had to go before he felt whole again.

Shadow stood underneath the window, his gaze fixed outside, as though he were watching for something. He didn’t say a word, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest.

Maddie paused at the door, her eyes lingering on them both. “You can lock the door if you want some privacy. I’ll be downstairs for a little while, but we’ll figure everything out together,” she gave them one last, lingering look before stepping out and quietly closing the door behind her.

The sound of her footsteps faded as she descended the stairs, leaving Sonic and Shadow in the stillness of the attic. The quiet seemed almost oppressive, and Sonic couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything pressing down on him. He crossed the room to the window and stood next to Shadow, his gaze falling outside.

"Well," Sonic started, his voice soft, "this is... a lot, huh?"

Shadow didn’t look at him at first, his eyes locked on the view outside, scanning the sky above. His voice was low, but steady, "We’re safe for now... but I don’t know how long that will last."

Sonic nodded, his arms hugging his sides, “Yeah. I don’t think Tom’s exactly thrilled to have us here.”

Shadow didn’t answer right away, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he muttered, “I can’t blame him. We’re not exactly… normal.”

The silence stretched between them again, but it was a different kind of quiet. There was a kind of understanding now, an unspoken acknowledgment of their shared reality. They didn’t belong here, not really, but for the moment, it was a place where they could breathe.

Sonic moved toward the bed and sat down, his shoulders slumping as the exhaustion from the last few days caught up with him. “What do we do now?” he asked, his voice low.

Shadow glanced at him, but didn’t offer an answer right away. Instead, he turned back to the window, watching the world outside with a wary eye, “We wait. And we keep our eyes open. There’s always something more going on than we see.”

Sonic sighed, flopping back onto the bed, rubbing his feet together to remove his shoes, “You’re always so serious.”

Shadow’s lips twitched slightly, a ghost of a smirk crossing his face, “Someone has to be.”

There was another long pause, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as before. Sonic found himself staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with all the questions that seemed to never have answers. What was Tom’s deal? How long would they really stay here? Would it be safe, or was there a bigger plan at play?

He tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the fact that they were together. They were safe, for now.

The attic was quiet, save for the soft creaking of the old wooden beams as the house settled in the midday warmth. Sonic’s eyes flickered over the room, his thoughts still tangled in the weight of the past few days. His body ached, his stomach throbbed faintly where the bandages wrapped around it, and his mind raced with too many things left unsaid.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg bent up, the other hanging over the side. His feet were bare, shoes discarded somewhere across the room. It was hard to settle in, knowing how quickly everything had shifted, how uncertain everything felt.

Shadow still stood by the window, arms crossed, his eyes focused on the sky beyond. There was a slight frown on his face, and Sonic could see the tension that still clung to him, even here, in this quiet space. The tension wasn’t just physical anymore, though, it was in the way he looked out the window, the way he seemed to be searching for something in the vast blueness.

Sonic had been trying to ignore the gnawing feeling of unease in his chest. Things were supposed to be different now, safer, at least for a while. But even as Maddie’s gentle voice echoed in his head, telling them they would figure it out, Sonic couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing was ever going to be as simple as they wanted it to be.

A long stretch of silence hung between them, broken only by the faint rustle of the leaves outside the window. The room felt so still, but there was something about the quiet that made it feel like something was waiting to happen. Maybe it was the weight of what they had escaped, or maybe it was the knowledge that the world they had come to wasn’t their own, not really.

Shadow’s voice broke through the silence.

“The sky’s clear today,” he said softly, his eyes scanning the horizon, “Not a cloud in sight.”

Sonic tilted his head, not quite understanding what Shadow was getting at. He shifted slightly on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, looks nice,” he replied, though his voice lacked the usual enthusiasm. His mind was elsewhere.

Shadow’s gaze never left the window, but there was a shift in his posture, a subtle change in the way he held himself. Sonic could almost feel the weight of his words before he even spoke them.

“It’s funny,” Shadow continued, his tone distant but thoughtful, “We’ve been so focused on everything else... that I almost forgot what it felt like to just... see the sky.”

Sonic’s heart skipped in his chest, the words hitting him harder than he expected. He sat up fully, now paying more attention to what Shadow was saying. The shift in Shadow’s demeanor was noticeable, the way his voice had dropped, the way he wasn’t looking at Sonic anymore, but instead, lost in the view through the window. There was something raw in his expression, something vulnerable, though Shadow would never say it outright.

Sonic knew exactly what Shadow meant, and for a moment, his throat tightened. They’d made a promise to each other back at the facility. It felt like forever ago, almost a decade, yet the memory of that night was still fresh in his mind. They had been laying side by side, covered in dirt and blood, staring out at white walls of their cage. And Sonic had told Shadow they would escape. They would see the sky together, not the sterile walls of the facility or the endless halls that had held them captive.

At the time, Sonic had said it with certainty, his voice firm as though the promise alone could carry them through everything. He didn’t want to think about how much had happened since. How much had gone wrong. How long they’d been running, how quickly things had spiraled out of control.

Sonic stood, his bare feet padding quietly on the wooden floor as he walked toward the window where Shadow stood. He didn’t stand next to him right away, just sort of lingered behind, his arms loosely crossed over his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say, but the quiet between them felt like it was heavy with unspoken words.

“I remember,” Sonic finally said, breaking the silence with a soft, almost nostalgic tone, “You said you wanted to see the sky. After we got out... I promised we would. But things just... kinda got in the way.”

Shadow didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the sky outside, though there was a slight tension in his posture that suggested he had heard Sonic. His expression, usually so guarded, softened ever so slightly, but it was enough for Sonic to feel the weight of everything between them.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see it,” Shadow said, his voice quieter than usual, “It’s just... I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t think we’d be running, hiding... always looking over our shoulders.”

Sonic shifted, his gaze sliding over the landscape outside. He hadn’t thought about it that way, not in those terms. He had always focused on the escape, the freedom of finally being out of the facility. But there had never been a moment to stop, to catch their breath, to just look up and take in the sky.

“I get it,” Sonic murmured, “I thought we’d be able to slow down, you know? Take a break, maybe find a place where we could just... be normal. Whatever that means. But it’s been nothing but running and fighting and trying to stay one step ahead of them.”

A heavy silence settled between them again. Sonic wanted to say more, to offer some kind of comfort, but he wasn’t sure how. The weight of it all was starting to press down on him, and for the first time since they’d escaped, he felt the enormity of what they had been through.

“We’ve got time, right?” Sonic asked, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain, “Time to stop, time to breathe. You said you wanted to see the sky. We’ll do it. We just... need to find the right moment.”

Shadow’s eyes flickered to Sonic then, his gaze piercing but not unkind. There was something almost grateful in the way he looked at Sonic, like he appreciated the sentiment, even if he didn’t show it outright.

“Maybe,” Shadow said slowly, the word hanging in the air like a promise that neither of them was ready to make yet, “But we can’t forget what’s still out there. We can’t forget that we’re still on the run.”

Sonic nodded, understanding. “Yeah. I know. But just for now, Shadow... let’s take a second. Let’s take a deep breath and look up at the sky, yeah?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Shadow let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. His eyes softened just a little, and he looked back out the window, focusing on the sky once again. There was a brief pause before he spoke.

“Maybe it’s enough for today,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Sonic smiled, a small, hopeful curve of his lips. They weren’t there yet, but at least they were together. And for a brief moment, the weight of the world outside seemed to fade, replaced by the quiet comfort of shared understanding.

They didn’t have all the answers. They didn’t have a plan. But they had each other. And as long as they did, they could find a way to make it through, no matter what came next.

Sonic glanced at Shadow again, this time with a bit more confidence in his voice, “We’ll get there, Shadow. We’ll see the sky together. Promise.”

Without another word, Sonic sprang into action, grabbing Shadow’s arm and pulling him with surprising strength to the bed. Shadow blinked, caught off guard, but Sonic was relentless. He guided Shadow into a sitting position on the bed, grinning mischievously.

“Come on, Shadow. You’ve been cooped up way too long. Let’s get you to relax,” Sonic said, his voice playful but determined.

Shadow tried to protest, but before he could manage a word, Sonic leaned in close, brushing his quills against Shadow’s head. He paused for a moment, thinking, then did something he hadn’t even really thought through. His tongue flicked out quickly and swiped over the back of Shadow’s head.

Shadow froze for a moment, his body stiffening at the unexpected touch. He opened his mouth to say something, but Sonic was already moving, running his tongue over Shadow’s quills again, moving down to the nape of his neck. It was instinctive, Sonic not thinking about how odd or intimate this gesture might be. It was just what he did when someone mattered to him, he did it to himself often enough in the facility.

“Relax, Shadow,” Sonic hummed as he continued, his tongue sliding through the sharp tips of Shadow’s quills, smoothing them down. It wasn’t fast; it was slow and purposeful, each stroke meant to calm, to soothe, to let Shadow feel something other than the tension coiling in his muscles.

Shadow’s breath hitched the first time Sonic’s tongue brushed along his shoulder, a warmth spreading through him he hadn’t expected. He was caught between confusion and a strange, deep need to just let go. He didn’t know how to process it, but the sensation of Sonic’s gentle grooming was like a balm to all the raw, exposed nerves he’d carried with him for so long. Slowly, very slowly, he felt the tension in his body begin to ease.

Sonic’s tongue flicked out again, making a soft sound as it slid across the softest parts of Shadow’s fur. He paused for a moment, pulling back slightly to check on Shadow. “You okay?” Sonic asked softly, his expression unreadable but warm.

Shadow’s eyes were closed now, his body loosening in ways Sonic had never seen before. He had always been guarded, always a little closed off from everything and everyone. But right now, with Sonic’s soothing actions, there was a moment where it seemed like maybe he didn’t have to fight so hard. Maybe it wasn’t all about the war in his mind.

“...I’m fine,” Shadow finally muttered, but it was quieter, softer than usual, as though the words didn’t carry the usual weight.

Sonic smiled softly and continued. He moved down Shadow’s back, licking gently at the tips of his quills and down to the base of his neck, where a few stray pieces of fur had gotten tangled. His motions were slow and methodical, working through the kinks as though trying to work through the mess of everything Shadow had been through. Sonic’s hands moved in careful strokes. It wasn’t about being perfect or neat, Sonic was almost completely sure it wasn’t perfect, it was just about connection.

When Sonic finally finished, he stepped back, giving Shadow a satisfied grin, “There, all better.”

Shadow sat still for a moment, blinking slowly as if coming out of a trance. He felt lighter, though he wasn’t sure how to describe it. “You’re... ridiculous,” he muttered, but this time there was no bite in his words. Just a touch of something almost like gratitude.

Sonic gave him a teasing smirk, sitting on the edge of the bed again, “Maybe. But at least you’re not as stiff now. You feel better?”

Shadow didn’t say anything immediately, but the tension in his shoulders was gone, his body much less coiled than before. He glanced at Sonic with something close to an unreadable expression, and for once, Sonic didn’t push him. He just let the moment linger.

“Let’s get some rest,” Sonic said finally, his voice quieter now, almost like he was respecting the new understanding between them, “We’ve still got a lot ahead of us.”

Shadow nodded in response, his eyes slightly softened in a way Sonic had never seen. They might not have figured everything out, but for now, this was enough.

As the quiet lingered in the room, Shadow finally let out a small sigh and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. His shoes, heavy and dirty from the days of travel, were still on his feet, but the comfort of the bed was undeniable. Slowly, he bent down, pulling them off with deliberate movements. He kicked the shoes aside, relieved to be free of the weight on his feet, and stretched his legs out.

Sonic watched him, his gaze softening as he noticed the subtle exhaustion in Shadow’s posture. He’d seen it before, Shadow never really let his guard down completely, even in moments like this. But there was something about tonight that felt different. Sonic could feel the distance between them closing in, the air around them more comfortable than it had been in days. For the first time since they had escaped, they could actually stop. They could just be , alone.

Without saying a word, Sonic crawled over to the bed beside Shadow, his body naturally gravitating toward the warmth and comfort of the other hedgehog. It was as if no time had passed at all, the way they used to fall asleep in cramped quarters, close to each other for warmth, for reassurance.

Shadow, still sitting, glanced at Sonic briefly, feeling the pull of something familiar stir inside him. Sonic was there, next to him, without hesitation, as if nothing had changed. And maybe, for once, nothing really had. They were both tired, physically, mentally, emotionally, and there was no need for anything more complicated than this. Just the presence of the other, a simple comfort in a world that had yet to make sense.

With a quiet grunt, Shadow finally laid down next to Sonic, his body sinking into the soft mattress. Sonic didn’t waste any time; he instinctively cuddled up against Shadow, tucking his head into the crook of Shadow’s neck. The warmth of his body was a familiar presence, and for a moment, Sonic allowed himself to close his eyes and breathe in deeply, savoring the simple feeling of being safe. Shadow didn’t push him away, didn’t flinch or stiffen. They were both just... there.

Sonic shifted slightly, draping an arm over Shadow’s chest as he nuzzled into him, his body instinctively seeking that warmth and closeness he’d once known so well. It was like when they were younger, back before everything got so complicated, before the fighting. It was the kind of closeness that Sonic had always found solace in, and now, it was something he couldn’t shake off, even in the aftermath of everything that had happened.

For a long moment, the room was quiet, except for the soft sound of their breathing, steady and calm. The weight of the world outside didn’t feel so pressing, not in this moment. Sonic could hear Shadow’s heartbeat, steady beneath him, and it made him feel like they weren’t alone in all of this. They still had each other. That was enough for now.

Shadow, still stiff but not as much as before, found himself oddly at peace with Sonic curled up next to him. He wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, neither of them were anymore, especially not after everything that had happened. But for once, he allowed himself to soften into the touch, to let his own body relax under the weight of Sonic’s presence.

Sonic’s voice, muffled against Shadow’s fur, broke the silence again, “We’ll get through this, Shadow. I know we will.” His tone was quieter now, the usual playful energy replaced with something warmer, more sincere.

Shadow didn’t answer right away, his mind wandering to the chaos of everything they had gone through. But in that moment, with Sonic close, the promise felt real. It felt possible. And maybe, for once, that was all they needed.

“Yeah,” Shadow muttered softly, his hand resting just beside Sonic’s, “Maybe we will.”

Tom paced the living room, his jaw clenched, his hands raking through his hair as he tried to make sense of everything. Ever since Maddie got back, a weight had settled over him, pressing down on his chest like a warning he couldn’t ignore. He glared at her, frustration flickering in his eyes.

“Maddie, we can’t keep them here,” his voice was low but sharp, barely restrained, “You don’t know what you’re doing. We don’t know what they are or what kind of trouble they’re running from. We found them scared out of their minds, hurt, alone, who’s to say we weren’t meant to? What if the person looking for them is dangerous?”

Maddie stood near the window, arms crossed, her posture firm despite the concern etched on her face. “So what are you saying?” she asked quietly, “That we should just turn them away?”

“Yes!” Tom snapped, his voice rising before he forced himself to take a breath, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Maddie, we don’t know anything about them. They show up out of nowhere, terrified, and you just decide to take them in? What if whoever hurt them comes looking again? What if we’re putting a target on our backs?”

“They’re just kids, Tom.”

“We don’t know that.” His hands curled into fists at his sides, “Look at them! They’re not human, Maddie. And whatever happened to them before they got here? It’s not our problem.”

Maddie’s eyes flashed with something unreadable. “Not our problem?” she repeated, voice tight, “Tom, they were bleeding when I found them. One of them couldn’t even stand. They have nowhere to go.”

“And we’re supposed to be their safe haven?” Tom let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, “Maddie, do you hear yourself? We don’t have the resources to take care of them. We don’t even know what they are—”

“They’re scared.” Maddie’s voice was quiet but firm, “That’s what they are.”

Tom let out a sharp breath, turning away for a moment before facing her again. “And what happens when whoever they’re running from finds them here?” he shot back, “You’re acting like we’re helping, but we could be putting ourselves in danger. You could be in danger. And I—” His voice faltered for half a second, but he steeled himself, “I won’t let that happen.”

Maddie stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. “And I won’t just throw them out because you’re scared of the unknown.”

“It’s not just the unknown, Maddie!” Tom’s frustration boiled over, “It’s the fact that you’re risking everything for two aliens. We don’t know what they’ve been through, but that doesn’t mean we have to be the ones to pick up the pieces. I have a life here, a job, a future—and I’m not going to let all of that get thrown away because you feel bad for them.”

Maddie’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s not about feeling bad. It’s about doing the right thing.”

Tom exhaled harshly, rubbing his temples. “And what if the right thing gets you hurt ? What if it gets both of us hurt?”

Maddie didn’t answer right away, her eyes searching his. “Then at least we did something worth the risk.”

Tom stared at her, his frustration warring with something deeper, something heavier. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken fears.

Finally, he let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t like this,” he muttered, “I don’t like any of this.”

“I know.” Maddie’s voice was gentler now, but her stance didn’t waver, “But they need help and I’m not turning my back on them.”

Tom looked away, his jaw tightening. He didn’t respond right away, because deep down, he knew, Maddie had already made her choice.

Chapter Text

Dr. Robotnik slammed the door of his sleek black car-base with a dramatic flourish, the sharp screech of metal echoing through the dimly lit chamber. His brow furrowed in frustration, eyes burning with a barely contained fury. He stormed past the array of whirring machines and cluttered workbenches, muttering to himself as he flung open the large door to his command center. The faint hum of circuitry and the smell of burnt rubber and oil greeted him. He barely noticed it. His thoughts were consumed by one thing and one thing only: the quill.

There it was, resting innocently on his workbench, that accursed blue quill. The object of his latest obsession. How could something so seemingly simple have eluded him for so long? He had only been called in to collect it and its counterpart as a desperate measure, but now, with this, this fragment of them in his possession, he could feel the pieces falling into place.

Stone, ever the silent assistant, stood by the workbench, arms resting at his sides. His expression was unreadable, but the subtle tilt of his head suggested curiosity. As always, he was waiting for instruction, standing patiently in the presence of Robotnik’s genius.

"Look at it, Stone," Ivo spat, his eyes flashing with a combination of fury and intrigue as he glared at the quill, "A simple little quill, but it holds the key to everything we’ve been searching for. These… things , they’re more than just animals. They’re weapons. And this, this fragment of them, is the key to it all." He scowled and slammed his fist onto the bench, making the quill rattle, "So stubborn."

Stone raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between Robotnik’s furious expression and the quill, "You think it holds power, sir?"

"Power? Of course it does!" Ivo practically hissed, his lips curling into a sneer, "That hedgehog , subject 171 , and the other one, subject 170 —it doesn’t matter. They’re not some mere animals, not like any creatures we've encountered before. This quill is proof of that! It’s not just a feather or a strand of fur. It’s something far more complex. I can feel it! It’s like... like a conduit, a key to something far bigger than I’ve ever encountered." His fingers twitched in frustration as he traced the shape of the quill, as if trying to will it to speak its secrets, "But what? What is it connected to? What is it trying to tell me?"

Stone took a step forward, ever the obedient assistant, his eyes still fixed on the object, "So, we’re not just trying to find the hedgehogs then? You think this quill could help us... how?

Ivo paused mid-gesture, his mind racing at Stone’s question. One thought had crossed his mind, and Stone’s neverending support made it sound all the more plausible, "I could find a way to control it? Yes, yes, that’s it, Stone. If I can understand what this quill is, if I can harness its power, I won’t just be chasing after it like some amateur! I’ll be able to force it, and its counterpart, come to me. And then... then the real fun begins."

Stone nodded slowly, the smallest glint of approval in his eyes, "And you think this quill can help us with that?"

"I know it can," Ivo’s eyes narrowed as he spoke. He leaned in closer to the quill, his nose nearly brushing the surface as he examined it under a high-powered magnifying glass. The quill was darker than he had initially realized, with a strange iridescent sheen that shifted in the light, almost as if it were alive. It didn’t make sense, nothing about it made sense. But that was the beauty of it, wasn’t it? In all the chaos, in all the unknown, there was potential. And Ivo Robotnik could taste it.

He gripped the quill with one hand, lifting it off the table and holding it up for inspection, "It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. Subject 171’s energy, its speed, it’s all tied to this. This... quill, this strange appendage, it’s more than just a relic. It’s a fragment of the very essence of the hedgehog itself."

Stone stepped closer, his eyes locked onto the object, "So, what do we do with it? How do we use it to track them?"

"Tracking them?" Ivo scoffed, rolling his eyes, "No, no, no. Tracking it is just the beginning, Stone. I need to understand it. I need to unlock its secrets. If I can tap into whatever powers this thing is made from, what makes those two tick, then I won’t need to chase after it. It will come to me, willingly. And when that happens, I’ll have the power to bend both of them to my will."

Stone looked skeptical, but only for a moment. He had seen the doctor’s plans succeed and fail countless times before, but this... this felt different. The look in Robotnik’s eyes, the almost feverish obsession, this wasn’t just another harebrained scheme. There was something deeper here.

"And how do we begin?" Stone asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Ivo paced the room, his long fingers drumming against the desk as he thought aloud, "First, we test it. This quill, it’s alive with energy, I can feel it. It might be a form of... electromagnetic force? Or perhaps something biological. Whatever it is, I need to know how it reacts to different stimuli. We’ll try various methods of interaction, expose it to heat, cold, pressure. We may even need to apply electrical currents, depending on how it responds. The goal is to provoke a reaction, to see what kind of power is locked inside this thing."

Stone nodded thoughtfully, "And what kind of reaction are you expecting, sir?"

Ivo grinned, his face lighting up with an almost manic excitement, "I don’t know, Stone. That’s the beauty of it! I could be on the brink of a discovery the likes of which the world has never seen! This could be the key to everything. I might even be able to use this to control their speed, to harness it for my own purposes. Just think of it—speed like no one has ever witnessed! I could bring the world to its knees, and all with the power of these simple aliens."

Stone’s eyes flickered with admiration. He had always respected Robotnik’s brilliance, even if it often manifested in dangerous ways, "So, we run tests, find out what it can do. And once we know, we go after the hedgehogs?"

"Precisely," Ivo said, a wicked smile curling on his lips, "Once I know how to manipulate the energy within this quill, I’ll be able to control the alien, and then... I’ll make it regret ever escaping."

Stone watched as Robotnik’s mind raced ahead, the wheels turning in a blur of scientific madness. There was no question in his mind that his master would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. The thought of controlling it , the thought of having a weapon like that in his hands, was intoxicating. And if it meant the difference between success and failure, Stone was willing to follow Robotnik to the ends of the Earth.

"Let’s begin the tests," Ivo said, his voice a low growl, filled with anticipation, "We have a lot of work to do, Stone. And no time to waste."

Stone nodded, already setting to work on the necessary equipment, "Understood, sir."

Ivo turned back to the quill, his hands trembling with excitement as he began to set up the instruments that would hopefully unlock the secrets of subject 170, and subject 171, and the power he so desperately craved.

The evening sun cast a soft, golden glow through the windows, reflecting off the warm wood of the kitchen table. The air was thick with the scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread, comforting, homey smells that Maddie had come to associate with family dinners. She set the last of the dishes down on the table, brushing her hands on her apron as she stepped back to admire her work. The meal wasn’t extravagant, but it was hearty, a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, a side of roasted carrots, and a green salad, the kind of food that made you feel safe.

It had been a quiet day, one filled with cautious exploration and strange silences. Sonic and Shadow had slept through lunch, exhausted from the events of the last few days she’s sure. Maddie had prepared the meal with the intention of making the boys feel as comfortable as possible. She knew they were still adjusting to this strange new world, and she also knew it would take time. Their wounds ran deeper than any physical injury.

As she finished setting the table, she glanced toward the door, hearing the familiar sound of Tom’s boots on the floor. He was coming from the stairs, no doubt fetching the boys.

"Hey, dinner’s ready," Maddie called, her voice light but warm.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. His face was a mix of curiosity and hesitation as he looked between Maddie and the two figures standing awkwardly by the stairs. Sonic and Shadow had yet to venture far from the comfort of their makeshift room, the attic they’d been given to share. They looked at Tom cautiously, their wariness clear. The boys were still sizing him up, still figuring out whether he was a threat or someone they could trust.

Sonic’s piercing blue eyes flickered to Tom, then to Maddie, then back to Tom again. Shadow stood a little further back, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a posture that spoke of his need to remain in control of the situation. They hadn’t yet fully adjusted to Tom's presence, and Maddie knew it. She’d hoped their bond would begin to ease the tension, but this wasn’t going to be a quick fix. Trust wasn’t something you could just give. It had to be earned.

"Come on in, guys," Maddie encouraged, her smile genuine but soft. "You’re not going to bite, are you, Tom?"

Tom forced a smile, though it was evident how nervous he was. He wasn’t used to this, dealing with two strangers, two children, who were as wary of him as he was of them. "I’m just... trying to figure out where to sit," he admitted, glancing down at the table. It wasn’t exactly a formal dinner, but the unfamiliarity still hung in the air.

Sonic didn’t waste any time. His stomach growled, and without hesitation, he darted toward the table, grabbing the nearest piece of bread and tearing into it with his bare hands. His blue spines ruffled slightly as he looked up at Maddie and Tom, his expression a mixture of hunger and curiosity. Shadow, meanwhile, hesitated. He was a bit more reserved, his eyes scanning the room carefully, assessing the situation, as if he expected something to happen at any moment.

Tom’s eyes widened when he saw Sonic eating with his hands, his fingers coated in crumbs and grease as he devoured the bread. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen someone eat without utensils before, but the way Sonic did it, so instinctively, almost feral, caught him off guard.

Maddie chuckled softly, noticing Tom’s discomfort. She could see the awkwardness in his posture, the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly unsure of how to act around the boys. "It’s okay, Tom. They’re just not used to eating with forks," she explained, nodding toward Sonic and Shadow.

Tom blinked, trying to process that. He’d known that Sonic and Shadow had been through some heavy stuff, but seeing it like this, hearing the way Maddie described the little she knew, made it hit harder. He shifted his gaze between the two boys, noting how Sonic seemed almost desperate to shove the food into his mouth, while Shadow observed everything with an air of detached interest, his sharp eyes studying the scene, as though making a mental note of the food.

"I see," Tom murmured, trying not to stare too much. He didn’t want to make them feel like animals. But it was hard not to, Sonic devoured his food with a speed that was almost unnerving, "Are you sure they’re okay with... this?"

Maddie smiled, though there was a sadness in her eyes. "It’s better than the slop they used to get," she said, as if that explanation made everything clear, "They’ll get the hang of it eventually. Just give them time."

Sonic, now half through the bread, looked up at Tom with a curious expression. "What? You never seen someone eat like this?" His voice was slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, but the challenge in his tone was clear.

Tom’s face flushed, and he quickly shook his head, "No, no, it’s not that. I just... I didn’t expect it, that’s all." He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

Sonic shrugged and continued munching on the bread, now switching to the roasted chicken. He ripped into it with just his hands, his fingers smeared with grease and juice. Shadow watched him for a moment before reluctantly reaching for his own piece of chicken, though his movements were slower, more deliberate. He hadn’t touched the bread, preferring the meat instead. He seemed more reserved in his actions, but still, he didn’t hesitate to eat with his hands.

Maddie glanced at Tom, who seemed to be trying to suppress a smile. "It’s fine," she said gently, "They’re not used to formalities. They don’t even know what forks are, Tom."

"I know what they are," Sonic piped up, a touch of indignation in his voice, "I just don’t need one." He picked up a drumstick and took another massive bite, "Besides, they don’t work for me."

Shadow didn’t speak, but his actions confirmed that he, too, preferred the simplicity of eating with his hands. He glanced briefly at Maddie, then back at Tom, his gaze guarded but curious. He seemed to be assessing Tom in the same way he had been previously that day, carefully, critically. Shadow wasn’t one to trust easily, and he certainly wasn’t about to let his guard down in front of someone he barely knew.

Maddie watched them both, a hint of a smile on her lips. She had a feeling it would take time for Sonic and Shadow to get used to all the things normal people took for granted. Like utensils. Like forks and knives. But for now, she was just grateful they were eating at all, that they were at least trying.

Tom sat quietly, his hands folded in his lap as he observed the boys. There was an odd sense of quiet understanding that passed between him and Maddie, an acknowledgment that they were all in this together, even if the boys hadn’t fully accepted that yet. Maddie’s heart swelled with hope, though she knew there was still a long road ahead. But for the first time since their arrival, there was a fragile sense of peace in the house. And for now, that was enough.

Sonic and Shadow had finished their dinner, their hands now covered in the remnants of their meal. Sonic wiped his hands on the napkin Maddie had left beside his plate, though he did so without much grace. Shadow, on the other hand, simply wiped his hands on his fur, seemingly unaffected by the mess.

"So," Sonic said, looking at Tom with a mischievous glint in his eye, "what’s for dessert?"

It wasn’t something Sonic and Shadow had experienced often. Sure, they’d had the bare minimum of food at the facility, but anything sweet, anything that resembled comfort or indulgence, was a luxury they hadn’t deserved in the eyes of the agents or doctors.

Tom raised an eyebrow at the mention of dessert. He hadn’t exactly prepared for this. But he saw the glint in Maddie’s eyes, the subtle encouragement, and he sighed, standing up from his chair. "Alright, alright. I guess I can make an exception tonight."

With a knowing smile, Tom walked over to the freezer. Sonic’s head perked up at the sound of the freezer door opening, his sharp ears catching the telltale noise of something being pulled out. When Tom returned with a small tub of chocolate ice cream, Sonic’s eyes immediately lit up.

"What is...?" Sonic’s voice was full of hope, his mouth already half open, as though he didn’t want to wait another second. Shadow, too, was watching intently, though his gaze was more reserved, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. Neither had actually thought that man would give them anything.

Tom placed the tub of ice cream on the table, looking down at the two boys. He had to admit, seeing the eager anticipation in their eyes made him feel a little better about the situation. "Everyone needs to try ice cream at least once,” he said, his voice soft but a little unsure, "But, um, just a heads-up. It’s cold. You might want to—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Sonic was already digging into the ice cream with his bare hands, the cold cream smeared all over his fingers as he brought a generous scoop to his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss as he tasted the smooth, chocolatey sweetness, a rare moment of pure joy breaking through his otherwise guarded demeanor.

Tom’s face contorted slightly as he watched Sonic, but he didn’t say anything. The sight of Sonic’s dirty paws diving into the tub of ice cream was a little unsettling, but he didn’t want to make a scene. He had to remind himself, Sonic and Shadow hadn’t experienced the comforts of a normal life, and they didn’t understand all the social niceties that most people took for granted.

Sonic barely noticed Tom’s discomfort, too absorbed in the new experience. He let out a contented hum, his mouth full of ice cream, barely chewing it as he quickly grabbed another handful. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed between bites, not pausing to catch his breath, "I don’t know what this is, but I love it!"

Shadow was more hesitant. He’d watched Sonic with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, his arms still crossed as he observed the blue hedgehog’s enthusiastic consumption. Shadow had never had ice cream before, never had the chance to taste something so sweet, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. Slowly, he reached out, dipping his fingers into the tub, scooping up a small amount.

He brought it to his mouth cautiously, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tasted the cold, creamy treat. For a moment, he didn’t react. His face was stoic, unreadable, but then his lips curled into the faintest of smiles. The sweetness spread over his tongue, and for a brief moment, Shadow felt something akin to satisfaction, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But before he could take another bite, Sonic suddenly jerked back from the ice cream tub, his hands clutching at his head. His eyes widened in confusion and discomfort, a sharp whine escaping his throat.

"Owww!" Sonic groaned, his voice high-pitched and strained. He placed both hands on his temples, as if trying to stop the sudden, sharp pain from overwhelming him, "What is happening?!"

The sudden change in Sonic’s demeanor caught everyone’s attention. Tom’s eyes widened, startled by the sudden reaction, and he instinctively took a step forward. "Sonic? What’s wrong?"

Sonic’s hands gripped his head harder, his body trembling. "It’s too cold! My head—ugh—it’s like my brain’s freezing!" His face twisted in confusion and distress, and his breath became shallow as he tried to fight the discomfort.

Maddie quickly stood up from her seat, rushing toward Sonic’s side. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. "It’s okay, Sonic. You’re just getting a brain freeze. It happens when something too cold hits the roof of your mouth too quickly."

Sonic looked at her, his face scrunched in confusion. "A what?"

"Brain freeze," she repeated, smiling a little despite the situation, "It’s normal, really. It happens when you eat something cold too fast. It’ll pass in just a second."

Shadow, still holding his own scoop of ice cream, narrowed his eyes as he watched Sonic. He was already getting ready to move to his side, but he hesitated when Sonic seemed to calm down a little, the tension slowly leaving his body.

"Just... don’t eat so fast," Maddie added with a small chuckle, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s not something you’re used to, so you’ve got to take it slow."

Sonic’s breathing slowly steadied as he processed Maddie’s words. "Oh," he said, his voice still shaky. "That... doesn’t feel great. But it’s okay now."

Shadow, who had been watching with a growing sense of unease, finally let out a low growl as he looked at Tom. Maddie quickly stepped in, placing a hand on Shadow’s arm to reassure him. "It’s not Tom’s fault," she said gently. "Sonic’s just never had ice cream before, and he ate it too quickly. It’s normal. You can’t blame anyone for it."

Shadow didn’t look entirely convinced, his sharp eyes still wary, but he relaxed a little. He glanced back at Sonic, who was now recovering and slowly reaching for another scoop of ice cream.

Sonic hesitated this time, his expression a little more cautious as he dipped his fingers into the tub again. He took a much smaller amount, savoring it this time. He glanced up at Maddie and Tom, his cheeks still flushed from the earlier discomfort. "Okay, I’ll take it slow this time," he said sheepishly.

Shadow, now a little more relaxed, followed Sonic’s lead, dipping his fingers into the ice cream once more. His movements were slower, more deliberate this time, and when he tasted the cold, creamy sweetness again, his stoic face softened just the tiniest bit. There was something about the dessert that settled him, something simple and comforting in the midst of everything that had happened.

Sonic’s grin returned, and he shot Shadow a playful look. "See? I told you staying was worth it!"

Shadow gave him a small, approving nod, though his expression remained as unreadable as ever. "I’ll admit, it’s not terrible," he said, his voice more neutral than anything else, not just talking about the ice cream.

Maddie and Tom exchanged a glance, a quiet understanding passing between them. For all the struggles they’d endured, for all the hardship they had faced, this small moment, this simple, shared experience, felt like progress. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.

"Good," Maddie said, smiling warmly at the two of them. "I’m glad you like it."

The evening sun sank lower, casting long shadows across the kitchen as Sonic and Shadow continued to enjoy their ice cream. There was a sense of peace in the room, a quiet, tentative comfort that Maddie hoped would grow with time.

The kitchen was filled with a peaceful quiet. Sonic, having eaten far more than his fair share, was slumped against the table, one arm draped lazily over the container while his head bobbed forward. His eyelids drooped heavily, barely staying open as he let out a slow, contented sigh. His quills, usually full of energy and life, were slightly drooped as sleep threatened to pull him under completely.

Shadow wasn’t far behind. Though he still sat upright, arms crossed over his chest in his usual reserved manner, his posture had slumped considerably. His ruby eyes blinked slower each time, and his breathing had become softer, more measured. The warmth of the kitchen, the fullness in his stomach, and the calm that had settled over the house were doing their work, lulling him into an inevitable drowsiness.

Maddie chuckled softly at the sight of the two hedgehogs, shaking her head as she stood up. “I think that’s enough for tonight,” she said gently, moving to collect the nearly empty tub of ice cream from Sonic’s barely-clinging grip. The blue hedgehog mumbled something incoherent in protest, his fingers twitching slightly as if debating whether to hold onto it. But sleep was winning the battle, and he let go without much of a fight.

Tom, watching from his seat, smirked. “Looks like you’re gonna have to carry them to bed at this rate.”

Maddie gave him a look. “Oh no, you’re helping.”

Sonic gave a sluggish blink, his head lolling to the side as he peered up at them. “M’not tired,” he murmured, his words slurring together as his chin drooped closer to his chest.

Shadow exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly in his seat but making no effort to move. “You’re practically asleep on the table,” he muttered, though his own voice carried a heavy weight of exhaustion.

Maddie reached out, placing a gentle hand on Sonic’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Come on, bud. Let’s get you to bed before you faceplant into the table.”

Sonic made a noise somewhere between a whine and a sigh but didn’t resist as Maddie helped guide him out of his seat. He leaned into her touch, still barely conscious as he let his feet drag slightly against the floor. Tom moved over to Shadow, who instinctively tensed at first, but a tired glare was all the resistance he gave as Tom guided him up as well.

As they shuffled toward the attic room, Maddie cast a glance at Sonic’s side, the memory of his injury nagging at the back of her mind. The bandages around his stomach had been secure the last time she checked, but it had been a while since she last changed them. They needed to make sure the wound was healing properly.

“Hey, before you get too comfortable, let’s check your bandages, okay?” she said softly, careful not to startle him in his drowsy state.

Sonic groaned, not out of pain but clear exhaustion, “Do we hafta?” he mumbled.

Maddie gave a small laugh, “Yeah, we hafta.”

Reaching the attic room, Tom helped Shadow onto the bed, who all but collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh. Sonic was next, half falling into the blankets as Maddie carefully guided him down. His quills barely stirred as he curled into himself, eyes already at half-mast.

With practiced care, Maddie moved to undo the bandages wrapped around Sonic’s middle. “Alright, let’s see how it’s doing,” she murmured, beginning to unravel the gauze. As the layers peeled away, both she and Tom prepared themselves for what they expected, a deep wound still in the process of healing.

What they didn’t expect was smooth skin.

Maddie blinked, her hands stilling as the last of the bandage fell away, “No way.”

Tom leaned in, his own eyes widening, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

There, where a deep gash had once been, was only the faintest trace of a scar. The skin had completely closed up, the angry redness faded into nothing more than a slightly discolored patch. It was as if the wound had never been there at all, only noticeable by the missing fur.

Sonic, still barely awake, cracked one eye open at their stunned silence, “Wha’?” he slurred, lifting his head slightly to peer at them.

Maddie looked at Tom, then back at Sonic, “Sonic… your injury is almost completely gone.”

Sonic blinked, not fully comprehending for a moment. Then, slowly, he pushed himself up on one elbow, glancing down at his own stomach. He squinted, his fingers brushing over the now-healed area, “Huh.” He sounded more surprised than anything, as if he hadn’t even realized it had been healing so quickly.

Tom let out a breath, rubbing the back of his head, “I mean, Maddie told me you were fast, but I didn’t think your healing would be this fast.”

Maddie nodded, still taking in the sight before her, “I guess now that you’ve been eating regularly, your body’s finally getting what it needs to work properly. Your speed must accelerate more than just movement, it probably helps with healing too.”

Sonic hummed, his fingers still idly tracing where the wound had once been. Then, with a sleepy grin, he flopped back onto the bed, “Neat.”

Tom shook his head, amused at Sonic’s casual response, but Maddie could see the relief in his expression. They both had been worried about that wound, about whether Sonic was hiding more pain than he let on. To see him nearly healed after just a few days of proper meals, it was nothing short of incredible.

Shadow, who had been silent the entire time, finally let out a low hum, “Hmph. Not bad.” It was the closest thing to praise he’d given Sonic all night.

Maddie smiled, shaking her head as she reached over and pulled the blanket up over Sonic, “Alright, no more surprises tonight. Get some sleep.”

Sonic yawned, his ears twitching slightly as he burrowed deeper into the blankets and therefore Shadow, “Night, Maddie… Night, Tom…” His voice was barely above a whisper, and within seconds, he was completely out.

Shadow, adjusting his body to a more comfortable position without bothering Sonic, gave one last glance at the two humans before finally closing his eyes as well, “Goodnight.”

Tom sighed, standing up and stretching, “Well, that was unexpected.”

Maddie chuckled softly, shaking her head, “Tell me about it.”

Tom lingered in the hallway, glancing toward the attic door before turning to Maddie. "This still isn't a good idea," he said, his voice lower now, more hesitant than before.

Maddie sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "Tom..."

"No, just hear me out." He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion weighing on him just as much as concern, "I don't hate them. I don't even dislike them. Honestly, I think I might actually... like them. A little. But that doesn't change the fact that we barely know them, and they barely know us. We have no idea what other dangers are following them. You told me what happened back in San Francisco, this is dangerous, Maddie. Keeping them here—it’s a risk we can’t ignore."

Maddie studied him for a moment, her expression softening. "I know it’s a risk. I do. But what’s the alternative? We send them off with nowhere to go? They need help, Tom. And after everything they’ve been through, I can’t turn them away."

Tom exhaled sharply, glancing toward the stairs as if debating his next words. "I get it. I really do. And maybe I’d be able to ignore all this if they were just a couple of stray kids who needed a place to crash. But they’re not. They’re—" He gestured vaguely, "Super-powered, high-speed, possibly alien creatures who have people after them. You really think we can protect them from all of that?"

Maddie stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. "I don’t know. But what I do know is that they trust us. And right now, they don’t have anyone else." She smiled gently, a quiet certainty in her voice, "Besides, I think you’re already more attached than you want to admit."

Tom let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, maybe. But that doesn’t make this any less insane."

Maddie only looked at him, smiling. 

He gave her a long look before sighing in reluctant defeat, “If this blows up in our faces, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so.'"

Maddie grinned, squeezing his arm. "Noted."

Chapter Text

The attic room was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came in the early hours of the morning. The sky beyond the window was a soft gradient of blues and pinks, the sun just beginning to rise.

Shadow stirred first. His body, still unaccustomed to the softness of the mattress, protested at the unfamiliar comfort. He shifted slightly, only to realize something warm and solid was pressed against his side.

Sonic.

The blue hedgehog was curled up next to him, face half-buried in the blankets, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. His quills were a mess, sticking out in odd directions, tangled and unkempt from sleep. Shadow’s gaze lingered on them, his instincts kicking in before his mind had time to catch up.

His hand moved on its own, smoothing down a particularly unruly quill. It didn’t lay flat, so he tried again, this time using his claws to gently untangle the worst of it. The motion was familiar, muscle memory ingrained from years of conditioning. Grooming was a social act, one of trust, one he hadn’t engaged in since… well, since Maria, unless Sonic grooming him yesterday counted.

He hesitated. What was he doing? This was Sonic. He didn’t need to—

Sonic shifted, letting out a quiet hum at the sensation, but didn’t wake. His ears twitched slightly, and Shadow caught himself before he could smooth those down too. He should stop. He should pull away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he carefully ran his claws through another patch of tangled quills, smoothing them down in slow, practiced motions. It wasn’t necessary, but for some reason, it felt… right. He had spent so long in that hell, either fighting or being restrained, that a simple, absentminded act of care felt foreign.

But not unwelcome.

A sleepy mumble broke the silence, “Mmh… ‘s nice…”

Shadow froze.

Sonic’s voice was thick with drowsiness, his words slurred together. His eyelids fluttered, barely cracking open as he shifted slightly under Shadow’s touch. It took a moment for full consciousness to settle in, but when it did, Sonic blinked up at him blearily.

“… You groomin’ me?” he rasped.

Shadow scoffed, yanking his hand back as if burned, “You looked disgusting,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Sonic snorted, flopping onto his back with a lazy grin, “Yeah? And here I thought you liked me.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, “I don’t.”

Sonic stretched, his joints popping as he let out a long yawn. Shadow’s eyes flickered downward, catching a glimpse of Sonic’s stomach as his body shifted slightly.

Nothing. No wound, no raw skin, just a faint scar and a patch of missing fur.

Good.

He didn’t say it, but the sight eased something deep inside him. That gash had been bad. He had seen wounds like that before, wounds that didn’t always heal. But Sonic’s was gone, like it had never been there at all.

And the bruises were gone too. The ones Shadow had put there.

He pushed the thought away before it could settle.

Sonic let his arms flop back down, completely oblivious to Shadow’s internal war, “Mmh, guess it’s pretty cool, huh?” he murmured, half-awake.

Shadow blinked, his expression settling into something neutral, “What is?”

Sonic grinned, tapping a finger against his stomach, “Healing fast. Feels like a cheat code.”

Shadow huffed. “I suppose it’s useful.” He glanced away, then muttered, “At least you won’t be slowing us down.”

Sonic chuckled, reaching up to lazily smooth his own quills where Shadow had left off. “M’gonna sleep five more minutes,” he mumbled, already burrowing back into the warmth of the other boy.

Shadow huffed but didn’t move away.

“… Fine. But only five minutes.”

Sonic’s only response was a sleepy hum, already half-asleep again.

Shadow let his gaze linger on the window a moment longer before finally closing his eyes as well.

Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Sonic's soft breathing was the only sound, the occasional sigh slipping past his lips as he shifted in his sleep. He wasn’t entirely still, his small movements pressing him closer to Shadow’s side each time, though neither boy seemed to mind. It felt natural, the way they were tucked against each other, like this was where they belonged, like they could just let the world go on without them for a little while.

Five minutes passed, stretching longer than they had any right to. Shadow didn't want to wake, didn't want to break the fragile calm. For once, there was no urgency, no experiments, no pressure. Just the quiet simplicity of being in the moment. The sunlight creeping through the window continued to bathe them in a warm glow, but Shadow’s eyelids remained heavy, unwilling to open just yet.

The soft tick of the clock on the wall was barely audible, but even so, it served as a gentle reminder that time would move on whether they wanted it to or not. Sonic stirred once more, his face tucked impossibly deeper into the other boy’s chest, a quiet groan escaping his throat. His hand brushed against Shadow’s again, fingers curling lightly around Shadow’s wrist, as if seeking the reassurance of his presence without fully waking.

For a moment, Shadow thought about pulling away, about slipping out of the bed and giving Sonic the space to wake up on his own. But as the seconds passed, he found that he didn’t want to move. Not yet. The sensation of Sonic’s hand in his, warm and secure, was oddly comforting.

Sonic mumbled again, his voice thick with sleep. "Five more minutes…" he muttered, though his words were already half-drowned by the fog of dreams.

Shadow’s lips quirked upward, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You said that five minutes ago,” he teased, though the words felt strangely soft in his mouth.

Sonic hummed in response, not fully awake, but not asleep either. His grip on Shadow's wrist tightened a little, as though unconsciously asking for more time. More stillness. More quiet.

Shadow didn’t pull away. He simply settled deeper into the mattress, his body adjusting to the rhythm of Sonic’s breath, the warmth of his presence radiating against his side. The thought of moving seemed distant, unnecessary. He could stay like this for a little longer, couldn’t he?

Another few minutes slipped by. Then, without warning, Sonic gave a groggy yawn and stretched his arms wide, his small body shifting as he slowly started to rouse. The softness of the blankets pulled away from his back as he moved, but Shadow didn’t move a muscle, watching the quiet display with a calmness he hadn’t expected.

“Alright, alright, I guess I’m awake now,” Sonic said with a sleepy grin, still not fully aware of how close they were, or the way his hand rested gently on Shadow’s arm, “You’re gonna have to let me go eventually, you know.” His voice was thick with the remnants of sleep, his words slurred and hazy.

Shadow gave a low grunt, his eyes still half-closed. “I suppose,” he muttered, even though he wasn’t ready to let go either. Not yet.

Sonic’s hand slid away from his arm, but not too far. He stretched again, still fighting sleep, but now the weight of the world outside the attic was slowly creeping back into his consciousness. “Hey, what time is it?” he mumbled, blinking up at the ceiling.

Shadow sat up, his movements slow and deliberate, like he wasn’t quite ready to leave the warmth of the bed either. His gaze flicked to the window, the soft light now spilling fully across the room. It was still early, but the promise of a new day hung in the air.

“It’s morning,” Shadow replied flatly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he tried to shake off the last remnants of sleep. He glanced at the door, feeling the pull of responsibility tugging at him. They couldn’t stay like this forever, no matter how much he wanted to.

Sonic groaned, half-annoyed and half-amused by the simple answer, “Well, no kidding. But what time, exactly?”

Shadow's lips pressed together in a thin line, “I don’t know. Maybe time to get up.”

Sonic squinted, rolling onto his back and rubbing his face, his quills still a mess from sleep. “Guess we’ve gotta, huh?” he muttered, but there was a lack of real urgency in his tone.

It wasn’t like they had anywhere they had to be right now. It was still early, and the world outside was quiet. They were safe here, in this strange, temporary home, where for just a moment, they could let the world move on without them.

Shadow stretched his legs, glancing over at Sonic as the blue hedgehog slowly climbed to his feet, dragging himself upright with a yawn. There was a sense of ease in his movements, a relaxation that Shadow hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe it was the safety of the house, the presence of Maddie and Tom, but something about today felt different.

“Alright,” Sonic said finally, his voice still thick with sleep, “Let’s go see if there’s anything to eat, yeah?”

Shadow nodded, getting to his feet, though his body felt a little heavier now that the warmth of the bed was gone. As he made his way to the door, he glanced at Sonic, who was already halfway to the stairs, his energy returning little by little.

The stairs creaked underfoot as Sonic and Shadow made their way into the hallway, still half-dazed from sleep. The scent of morning was in the air, warm and inviting, though it wasn’t just the sunlight beckoning them. Their stomachs were beginning to rumble, loud enough to be heard over the quiet of the house.

Sonic grinned, rubbing his stomach, “Man, I’m starving. Let’s see what we can find.”

Shadow shot him a glance, his usual stoic expression on his face, “You don’t even know what’s in the kitchen.”

Sonic shrugged nonchalantly, pushing open the door with one hand,“How hard can it be? Food’s food, right?”

They stepped into the kitchen, the soft glow of morning light spilling through the window. The counters were cluttered with a few dishes and cups, and there was a small kitchen table tucked in the corner, the one they had dinner at last night. But it was the cabinets and the fridge that caught their attention instead this time. Sonic’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, already zipping around the room as if he had a sixth sense for where food might be hiding.

Shadow, on the other hand, was far more cautious. His gaze swept the space with a quiet suspicion. He had never been in a human kitchen before, and while he’d seen humans eat before and had his fair share of their food, with Maria and now Maddie taking care of him, he still wasn’t sure how to navigate this strange, domesticated world. But when his stomach growled sharply, even he couldn’t ignore it. He moved toward the cabinets, his hands hovering near the drawers as he inspected the contents.

“Right,” Sonic said with an excited grin, grabbing a bag off the counter, “We just gotta look around, see what’s edible.”

He didn’t even hesitate before tearing open the plastic bag with his teeth, the crinkle of the material loud in the otherwise silent room. Inside, there were small, round, crunchy things. Sonic popped one in his mouth and chewed experimentally.

Shadow raised an eyebrow, “That’s not food, Sonic.”

But Sonic just gave him a mouthful grin, chewing happily, “It’s a snack! Definitely snack food.”

Shadow eyed the bag warily. It was full of little round pieces that, when Sonic handed him a piece, tasted vaguely salty, and the bag itself had some picture on it that neither of them recognized. But the crunch of the tiny pieces wasn’t awful, if anything, it was kind of satisfying.

After a moment, Shadow decided to join him, reaching for a different bag. He tugged it open, his claws slicing through the material with precision, and began munching on snacks as well, though more cautiously than Sonic.

Sonic's grin widened, pleased to see Shadow giving it a try, “See? Not bad, huh?”

Shadow nodded, though his face remained as impassive as ever, “I suppose.”

The two of them were so focused on the snack bag that neither of them noticed the cabinet door swinging open behind them, a box of cereal falling out, bright and colorful, and without any hesitation, Sonic grabbed it. He looked at the box for a second, then shrugged and ripped the top open, spilling small, colorful pieces across the counter.

“Cereal’s good, right?” Sonic asked, already starting to shove a handful into his mouth.

Shadow glanced at the mess on the counter, then at Sonic, who seemed entirely unbothered by the chaos, “I think you’re supposed to put milk in it.”

Sonic paused mid-chew, “Milk?”

“Humans drink it with cereal. They keep it in the fridge,” Shadow explained, a hint of exasperation in his voice, though it softened with the fact that Sonic wasn’t entirely clueless. He simply hadn’t been raised in the human world like Shadow had, however his knowledge was still lacking.

“Well, we’re not doing that,” Sonic waved him off, already diving into another handful of cereal, "It’s better this way, right?"

Shadow rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, “You’re ridiculous.”

Sonic grinned, shoving another mouthful into his mouth, “You should try it.”

But Shadow wasn’t about to try that. He picked up a small bag of crackers from the counter instead, ripping open the top with his claws and popping one into his mouth. The flavor was bland, but it was better than the cereal.

After a few moments of silence, Sonic stopped, mid-bite, looking around the kitchen in curiosity. “Hey, what’s this?” He pointed to a rectangular box sitting on the counter, its label entirely in a language neither of them recognized, “It looks kinda like cake, I remember one of the guys from the facility let me have a bite once!”

Shadow raised an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t trust it.”

Sonic grinned, “Well, I’m trusting it. We can always figure it out later.”

He tore into the box, tossing the paper wrapping aside as he pulled out a plastic-wrapped cake-like substance. He didn’t hesitate; the moment the packaging was off, he bit into it, crumbs falling everywhere.

“Yeah, this is cake,” Sonic confirmed, the words muffled by the bites he took, looking pleased with himself.

Shadow watched him carefully, “You really don’t care what you eat, do you?”

Sonic’s mouth stretched into a grin, “Hey, it’s all food, right? We’re hungry.”

Shadow eyed him for a moment longer, then went back to his crackers, less interested in the cake, “You're a mess.”

Sonic smirked,  “You’re one to talk, mister ‘I don’t know how to eat anything’.”

Before Shadow could respond, Sonic grabbed a package of something else, this time, it was a plastic-wrapped loaf of bread, and tore into that, too, ripping off a chunk and chewing without hesitation.

“I think this is fine,” Sonic said with a mouthful, “I mean, hey, it’s bread.”

Shadow didn’t know what to think. Bread? Cereal? Snacks? Cake? None of it made much sense, and it was all a little disorganized, but he had to admit, he was less hungry than when they’d started.

At least, they were managing, “You really don’t care about anything, do you?”

Sonic paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully, “Eh, sometimes I care, but right now? Right now, I’m just hungry. Besides, we can figure out all the details later, right?”

Shadow didn’t respond, but he supposed Sonic had a point. They were kids, they were free, and right now, this chaotic moment was a part of the weird freedom they had earned. He hopped onto the counter with Sonic and continued to nibble on his crackers, letting the laughter in Sonic’s voice drift through the kitchen as he tore into yet another thing he couldn’t quite identify.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Sonic and Shadow froze, their bodies tense, eyes wide. The sudden arrival of Tom and Maddie, bags in hand, was enough to snap them out of their half-sleepy haze, their instincts kicking in at full force as they both leaped off of the counter.

Tom’s steps were heavier as he entered the room, setting down the bags with an audible thud, and his gaze immediately fell on the mess. The disarray, the spilled snacks, the crumbs, the packages torn apart like some kind of chaotic disaster zone, was the first thing that caught his attention, and for a split second, his brow furrowed in frustration.

Neither Sonic nor Shadow made a sound at first, but their hearts were pounding. They could see the way Tom looked at the mess, could feel the tension in the air, and it triggered something deep within them.

They weren’t used to this. The last time someone had been this upset, it had been at the facility, and it had never ended well. Sonic’s eyes flicked nervously to Shadow, who was already positioning himself just slightly in front of him, body stiff with instinctual defense.

“Uh... hi?” Sonic murmured, but his voice came out unsure, a little higher than normal. Shadow stood at an angle, instinctively putting himself between Sonic and Tom, his quills subtly raising at the edges, like spines ready for a fight.

Tom didn’t understand at first, hadn’t fully registered how they were reacting to his frustration. He hadn’t been angry with them, at least not in a way that would ever make him want to hurt them. But the kids didn’t know that. The tension between them was so thick, it felt suffocating. The two boys, despite their attempts to act tough, were standing stiffly, poised for flight or fight. Their bodies seemed to shrink back, like they were preparing for something much worse than a simple scolding.

Tom noticed immediately. He froze. His eyes softened when he saw their raised quills, their defensive posture, and he realized with a jolt just how much they were expecting punishment. They were on edge, terrified. Not just of the mess, but of what might come next.

Before he could even take a step toward them, Shadow instinctively pulled Sonic slightly behind him, his hand on the blue hedgehog’s shoulder, holding him back as if to shield him from whatever Tom might do.

Tom swallowed hard, his anger evaporating instantly. “Hey, hey, whoa,” he said in a calm, steady voice, taking a cautious step forward, “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The words, simple and clear, seemed to hang in the air. But to the two boys, they didn’t quite seem to register right away. They’d been in situations where “it’s okay” was just a lie meant to soothe before something worse came. They didn’t know how to handle that kind of reassurance.

Sonic looked up, eyes wide and wary, his quills still raised like a porcupine’s. He’d never really had someone not angry when he’d done something wrong. His hands clenched at his sides, unsure whether to try and run or just stay frozen. “We’re… we’re sorry,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.

“We didn’t mean to make a mess…” Shadow added in a low voice, still positioned protectively between Tom and Sonic.

Tom’s gaze softened further, and he took another step forward, hands raised slightly to show he wasn’t a threat. “You’re not in trouble,” he said gently, “I’m not mad at you. I just… don’t like that you destroyed the kitchen.”

The word “destroy” sent a shiver through both Sonic and Shadow, and Sonic’s hand instinctively moved to tug on Shadow’s arm. The movement was small, but it showed just how much trust Sonic put on the other hedgehog. Shadow’s stance loosened just slightly, his quills lowering a little, though he still stood firmly in front of Sonic.

Tom could see it now, the sheer mistrust in their eyes, the raw fear. He had a sinking feeling in his chest as he realized how badly these boys had been hurt before, how they were so used to conflict that even a simple mistake was something they couldn’t feel safe about.

“I promise,” Tom said, his voice softer now, “I’m not angry. I just… we need to clean up.” He wasn’t sure how much to say, how to make it clear that he wasn’t a threat, “You two can help, okay? No punishment, no yelling. I just want the kitchen clean again.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing. Sonic’s heart thudded in his chest, the adrenaline still running through his veins. Shadow glanced at him, and the brief moment of eye contact was enough to communicate what neither of them said aloud: Should we trust him?

Sonic shifted, glancing toward Tom again, eyes flicking nervously but searching for something that would make him feel less afraid. Tom was still standing there, not advancing any closer, giving them space, his expression sincere. Slowly, Sonic began to lower his quills, though they were still slightly bristled.

“We’ll clean it up,” Sonic said, though the words were quiet and uncertain. He wasn’t sure if Tom would actually let them clean up, or if this was some kind of test.

Shadow nodded, looking over at Sonic who nodded to the boy. 

Tom smiled gently, a little relieved to see their defenses start to lower, “Good. And after that… maybe we can have a talk. No more messes, okay?”

Sonic nodded, Shadow following suit, but after looking around him, the mess in the kitchen felt like a mountain, towering over them in the early morning light. The two boys stood in the middle of the chaos, unsure where to even begin. But the moment they’d agreed to help, it had set them into motion, albeit awkwardly.

Shadow moved toward the counter first, pulling some of the crinkled bags together and tossing them into the trash, his eyes flicking occasionally to the strange creature that was sniffing around the room. Ozzy.

The dog was sitting a few feet away, his ears perky as he watched them, tail wagging with slow, curious movements. Ozzy had been quiet for the most part, but the boys had noticed how he kept following them with those big, brown eyes. He had a presence, and it was enough to make both hedgehogs uncomfortable.

Sonic, trying to ignore Ozzy’s gaze, grabbed a dirty towel from the counter and started wiping up the crumbs scattered along the edge. His movements were stiff, though, as if he was wary of getting too close to the dog.

"Hey, Shadow..." Sonic muttered, glancing sideways at the dog, "Is he... gonna bite us?" He tried to keep his voice casual, but there was a faint nervousness in his tone. Dogs were completely foreign to them.

Shadow, who had been scooping up a pile of wrappers, shot a quick glance at the dog. “I don’t think so,” he said, though there was still a cautious edge in his voice, “But keep an eye on it.”

Sonic nodded, carefully tossing another handful of wrappers into the trash. His eyes never strayed far from Ozzy, whose head tilted slightly as if trying to figure out what they were doing. The dog was harmless enough, he wasn’t barking, wasn’t showing teeth, but Sonic wasn’t sure if that meant he was friendly. It was all so confusing.

The dog seemed content to observe them, though, sniffing at the edges of the counter and then flopping onto the floor with a soft grunt, rolling over to expose his belly as if waiting for a scratch. The sight made Sonic stop for a moment, his eyes widening in curiosity. He hadn’t expected the dog to be so... calm. So normal.

Shadow, sensing Sonic’s hesitation, muttered quietly, “You’re not gonna pet it, are you?”

Sonic scoffed, “I dunno, I mean… look at it.” He gestured toward Ozzy, whose belly was now exposed, his tail wagging lazily, “I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

Shadow didn’t reply, but he was still keeping an eye on the dog, his posture tense, just in case.

Maddie had slipped out to the living room to talk to Tom about something, leaving the boys alone with the task. That also left the two boys alone with the dog, which had them a little unsettled.

Sonic was the first to brave a step closer to the dog. Tentative at first, he bent down slowly, hand outstretched in the air, not wanting to spook Ozzy. “Uh… hey, there,” he muttered, more to himself than the dog. Ozzy didn’t move, still watching him with that head-tilt, tail thumping against the floor in gentle beats.

Shadow narrowed his eyes, still wary, “You sure about this?”

Sonic glanced back, giving a small nod, “It’s not doing anything, right?”

He took one more step forward, his fingers brushing the dog’s fur lightly. The moment his hand touched Ozzy’s soft coat, the dog let out a contented sigh and flopped back onto his feet, spinning around in a circle before landing with a happy, exaggerated sigh.

Sonic grinned, a little unsure of himself but pleased with the reaction, “Alright, guess you’re not so bad.”

Ozzy, seemingly satisfied with Sonic’s touch, immediately rolled over onto his back again, looking expectantly at him with those big brown eyes. Sonic blinked, looking up at Shadow, who was still hanging back but had clearly relaxed a little.

“Guess he wants more,” Sonic jokes, reaching down and giving the dog’s belly a quick rub, unsure if he was doing it right but figuring he might as well.

Shadow observed for a moment, still hovering a bit behind, but his arms were no longer crossed defensively. Slowly, cautiously, he moved closer, glancing over at Sonic. The way Sonic was interacting with the dog made him curious, and maybe just a bit less suspicious.

Shadow didn’t exactly know what to do. Petting animals wasn’t something he’d ever done, but seeing Sonic smile like that, seeing the dog respond in such a calm, harmless way, it was... something.

Without saying anything, he crouched down next to the dog, his hand hovering above Ozzy’s head for a moment before he gently ruffled his ears. The dog didn’t flinch, didn’t growl, just laid there, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Hey, I think he likes you too,” Sonic teased lightly, his grin still there as he stood up, “Not so bad, huh?”

Shadow didn’t respond immediately, his fingers lingering in Ozzy’s fur for a moment longer than necessary. There was something oddly soothing about it, something simple that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

“…Yeah,” he muttered after a beat, standing back up, “I guess he’s alright.”

Maddie’s voice echoed from the hallway, calling them back into action. “How’s the clean-up going, boys?”

Sonic quickly looked around, realizing they had made a lot more progress than he expected. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than before. “We’re getting there!” he shouted back, “It’s almost done.”

Maddie walked back in, and when she saw the state of the kitchen, her eyes flicked between the two boys and the surprisingly relaxed dog. “Well, looks like you two did alright,” she said, smiling at the boys and Ozzy, who was now sitting at their feet, wagging his tail.

“Yeah, Ozzy helped,” Sonic said, crouching down to give the dog one last scratch behind the ears, and Ozzy responded by playfully nipping at Sonic’s hand, wagging his tail even more vigorously.

Tom, who had entered the room behind Maddie, took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady as he glanced at Sonic and Shadow. “Alright, you two,” he started, his tone a little firmer but not unkind, “we need to talk.”

Sonic and Shadow both stiffened a little, exchanging a brief look. Neither of them had ever had a ‘talk’ that didn’t end badly. But they didn’t interrupt, as Tom had mentioned this before.

Maddie, sensing the tension, gently guided them over to the small table in the corner. “Come on, boys,” she said softly, “Sit down for a moment. We just want to explain a few things.”

Shadow hesitated, but Sonic nudged him lightly with his shoulder, silently urging him to follow. They took their seats at the table, the kitchen now calm after the chaos of the clean-up, the tension still lingering but not as sharp as before.

Tom took a seat opposite them, folding his hands together on the table. “We don’t want to see you hurt,” he said quietly, his gaze locked on the two hedgehogs, “and we understand that you’ve been through a lot. But we have some ground rules, alright?”

Sonic blinked, his voice quieter than usual, “Ground rules?”

Maddie nodded. “Yeah. You’re welcome to stay here until you’re safe. But after that…” She paused, glancing at Tom, who shifted slightly, his hands clasped in her lap, his gaze flicking to the boys before meeting Maddie’s.

Tom sighed, his face softening with concern. “It’s not easy, Maddie,” he said quietly, “but we have to think about what’s best for us, too.”

Tom reached out, placing a hand on hers in a gesture of reassurance. “I know, Tom. I know,” she turned back to Sonic and Shadow, “We want you to be safe, but we can’t keep you here forever. You’ll have to find a place to go eventually.”

Sonic’s ears drooped, and he could feel the weight of the words hanging in the air. Shadow, too, was staring at the table, his quills twitching in slight discomfort. They’d been hoping for something different, but it was clear that Tom and Maddie had their own concerns, their own limits.

“We understand if you’re scared,” Maddie added softly, “and we don’t want to push you out into the world without help. But we can’t keep you here forever. We need you to understand that.” She paused, looking at both of them.

The words hung heavily, but there was a softness in Maddie’s voice that contrasted with the hard truth they held.

Sonic opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Maddie reached into a small bag on the table. “I’ve got something for you two,” she said, a slight smile tugging at her lips. She pulled out two small, soft gloves, bright, fuzzy things, clearly from the children’s section of a store.

Sonic blinked in confusion. “Uh, what are these?”

“They’re for your hands,” Maddie said, her voice gentle. “I noticed you, Shadow, lost yours helping Sonic. So, I figured you might like something to keep your hands warm. You too, Sonic.” She slid the gloves toward them. They were small, designed for a stuffed animal, but they looked surprisingly cute in their own way.

Sonic picked up one of the gloves, turning it over in his hands. It was a little big for him, but it wasn’t the size that mattered. It was the thought behind it.

Shadow took the other one, holding it carefully as if unsure of what to make of the gesture. His eyes flicked up to Maddie, who was watching them with a warm expression.

“I know it’s not perfect,” she said softly, “but we wanted you to have something to keep you going, something that’s yours.”

Sonic slipped the glove on, the fabric soft against his skin. It felt odd at first, going so long without gloves will do that, but a small warmth spread through him, not just from the glove, but from the kindness in her gesture. Shadow, after a moment of hesitation, followed suit, his quills brushing awkwardly against the fabric, but he didn’t take it off.

“Thanks,” Sonic muttered quietly, his voice a little rough, though he wasn’t sure why. He just felt… something he couldn’t quite place.

Tom nodded, his expression softening as he watched the two hedgehogs with those gloves. “We want to help you,” he said, “but we can’t be your safety net forever. You’ll need to stand on your own two feet eventually.”

Maddie reached out, giving Sonic’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “And we’ll help you get there. But, after a certain point, we’ll need you to be independent.”

The room grew quiet again, the weight of their words sinking in. Sonic shifted in his seat, glancing at Shadow. There was a lot they didn’t understand about this world, about these people, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like everything was closing in on them.

Tom stood up, his voice a little firmer now, “But that day is not today. For now, just stay safe, stay with us, and we’ll help you figure things out. Okay?”

Chapter Text

Moonlight filtered through the window in the ceiling, casting a dim glow over the small space. The air was still, thick with unspoken words, but neither of them seemed willing to break the silence first. Sonic lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His stomach still ached, despite the wound being completely healed, but the dull pain had become just another thing to ignore. Shadow sat near the edge of the bed, back rigid, arms crossed over his chest.

It had been hours since Maddie and Tom told them they couldn’t stay forever.

Shadow was the first to speak.

“We need to leave,” he said, voice low but firm.

Sonic blinked, slowly turning his head to look at him, “What?”

“You heard them,” Shadow’s eyes were cold, but his fingers twitched slightly where they rested against his arm, “They don’t want us here. They’re just waiting until we’re not their problem anymore.”

Sonic frowned, shifting slightly on the bed, “That’s not what they said.”

“They didn’t have to,” Shadow muttered, “You think they’re going to keep us forever? You think they’re going to fight off G.U.N. for us? Risk their lives?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “They’re being nice because they feel bad for us, but that won’t last. We should go before they decide we’re too much trouble.”

Sonic turned onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. His expression was unreadable, but there was something distant in his eyes, “Where would we go?”

Shadow hesitated. He had expected Sonic to argue, maybe push back harder, not ask something so... uncertain, “Anywhere. We’ve been on our own before.”

Sonic let out a breath through his nose, something close to a laugh but lacking any humor, “Yeah, and that worked out great for us.”

Shadow clenched his jaw, “It’s better than waiting to get thrown out.”

Sonic looked down at the blankets beneath his ungloved fingers, tracing over the soft fabric. The bed was warm. Too warm. He hadn’t had a real bed in years, and now that he did, had been the past few days, it almost felt wrong, like he didn’t deserve it, “You really think they’d do that?” he asked quietly.

Shadow exhaled sharply, as if Sonic’s doubt was irritating,  “I think it doesn’t matter what they’d do. What matters is that we don’t wait around to find out.”

Silence stretched between them again. Sonic let it sit, mulling over Shadow’s words. His stomach twisted, not from the injury, but from something deeper. He hated that Shadow made sense. But he also hated that he didn’t want to agree.

“They’re not bad people,” Sonic said finally, voice softer now.

Shadow turned his head slightly, regarding Sonic with unreadable eyes, “That doesn’t mean they’ll choose us over themselves.”

Sonic chewed the inside of his cheek. He had no argument for that. He wanted to believe Maddie, to believe that she wouldn’t abandon them. But belief didn’t count for much in the long run, his past experiences proved that for him time and time again.

He exhaled and let himself fall onto his back again, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna run away anymore,” he admitted, so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

Shadow’s posture stiffened. His fingers curled into the fabric of their shared bed, his claws leaving small holes, “Then you’re being naïve.”

Sonic let out a weak chuckle, “Probably.”

Shadow’s gaze lingered on him, something guarded flickering behind his eyes. “We should be prepared, at least,” he said, his voice lacking its usual sharpness, “If they change their minds, we can’t be caught off guard.”

Sonic turned his head just enough to look at him again, “Yeah... I get that.”

Another long silence. This time, it was less suffocating.

“Are you tired? We could use the sleep,” Sonic murmured after a moment.

Shadow’s shoulders tensed slightly before he looked away, “I don’t need much.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Shadow didn’t answer.

Sonic let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “I used to count cracks in the ceiling,” he said, “Back in the facility. Every night.”

Shadow glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “Why?”

Sonic shrugged one shoulder. “Gave me something to do. Helped me pretend I was somewhere else. But the ceiling was metal, so there weren’t actually any cracks. Just lines where the panels connected.” He let out a dry chuckle, “I counted those instead.”

Shadow didn’t say anything, but his fingers had stopped gripping the sheets so tightly.

After a while, Sonic spoke again, “You ever get nightmares?”

Shadow’s expression darkened. He didn’t look at Sonic when he answered, “No.”

Sonic hummed, unconvinced. He turned onto his side again, resting his head on his arm, “You should try sleeping. Y’know, just to see what it’s like.”

Shadow shot him a glare, “I know what it’s like.”

Sonic smirked lazily, “Then you should try liking it.”

Shadow rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. The silence that followed was more comfortable than before, the tension between them settling into something quieter, something that didn’t feel quite as heavy.

Sonic yawned, stretching his arms above his head before letting them flop back down, “Man, this bed is nice. You should really try laying on it.”

Shadow stayed quiet, still perched at the edge.

Sonic turned onto his stomach, pressing his cheek against the pillow, “Bet it’s better than whatever stiff cot they gave you in the facility.”

Shadow’s ear twitched but he didn’t move.

Sonic smirked, “C’mon, you’re just sitting there like a weirdo. Get comfortable with me!”

Shadow huffed but didn’t move.

Sonic patted the empty space beside him, “I won’t bite. Well, not on purpose.”

Shadow gave him a flat look, “That’s not reassuring.”

Sonic chuckled, rolling onto his back again, “Fine. Do whatever you want.” He closed his eyes, feigning indifference. But after a moment, he felt the bed shift slightly. He cracked an eye open to see Shadow begrudgingly settling onto the mattress, lying stiffly on his back, arms still crossed.

Sonic grinned, “See? Not so bad.”

Shadow let out a quiet sigh, staring at the ceiling, “Go to sleep, Sonic.”

Sonic closed his eyes again, a small smile lingering on his lips, “Yeah, yeah.”

Sonic’s breathing evened out, but he wasn’t asleep yet. He shifted slightly, scooting closer, the warmth of the blankets and the presence beside him lulling him into a comfort he desperately craved.

Shadow didn’t react at first, still sitting stiffly beside him, but he didn’t move away either.

Sonic took that as an invitation.

Slowly, hesitantly, he inched toward Shadow, resting his head against his side. Shadow tensed, muscles coiling like he was preparing to shove Sonic off. But he didn’t, just like he hadn’t the previous nights.

Sonic took a slow breath, then muttered, “You’re warm.”

Shadow scoffed, though it lacked any real irritation, “You’re clingy.”

Sonic huffed out a soft, tired laugh, “Yeah. Probably.”

For a moment, he just stayed there, listening to the steady rise and fall of Shadow’s breathing. The room was quiet, save for that rhythmic sound, grounding in a way Sonic hadn’t expected. Without thinking, he nuzzled into Shadow’s chest fur, his nose pressing into the thick fluff.

Shadow stiffened, “What are you doing?”

Sonic didn’t answer right away. His fingers curled into the other boy’s back, gripping him tightly, but not too tightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.

“I’m scared too.”

Shadow blinked, caught off guard by the admission.

Sonic sighed, shifting slightly but not pulling away. “You talk about running like it’s the only option,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “And maybe it is. Maybe we’ll have to. But... I don’t want to.” His grip on the boy tightened, “I don’t wanna keep running forever, Shads.”

Shadow swallowed, staring at the ceiling. His instincts screamed at him to say something, to push Sonic away before this got too close, too real. But he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a slow breath.

“You’re not alone,” he muttered, barely audible.

Sonic’s grip loosened slightly, but he stayed close. He could feel the hesitation in Shadow’s frame, the way he held himself unnaturally rigid, like he didn’t know how to handle this. Sonic knew the feeling.

Neither of them had ever been comforted before recently.

Neither of them knew how to be soft.

And yet, something in the silence, the quiet press of their fur, the steady warmth between them, made it easier.

Sonic shifted again, pressing closer, resting his forehead against Shadow’s chest. “You say that like it means something,” he murmured.

“It does.”

Sonic exhaled shakily, his fingers uncurling slightly from the blankets, “Then don’t leave me.”

Shadow’s breath hitched. His hands twitched at his sides, uncertain.

But slowly, cautiously, he unfolded his arms.

Sonic felt the hesitation in every small movement, how Shadow’s hands hovered for a moment before settling at his back, how his body remained tense even as he allowed himself to curl slightly around Sonic, not quite protective, but not pushing him away either. He was careful of the other hedgehog’s quills, and Sonic was careful not to raise them.

“I won’t,” Shadow muttered, barely above a whisper.

Sonic closed his eyes. He didn’t entirely believe it. Not yet. But for now, he let himself pretend.

The silence stretched, softer now, heavier in a way that wasn’t suffocating.

“You should sleep,” Sonic murmured, voice drowsy. “It’s not so bad, I know you didn’t get much yesterday.”

Shadow huffed, “I don’t need much sleep.”

“So you’ve said,” Sonic mumbled, pressing his nose deeper into the warmth of Shadow’s fur, “But you still stay up all night. You can’t tell me that’s healthy.”

A pause. Then, quieter, “You’re one to talk.”

Sonic smiled slightly, “Touché.”

Shadow didn’t respond right away, but after a long moment, his grip on Sonic shifted, ever so slightly pulling him closer.

Sonic let out a content breath, relaxing into the warmth, into the steady heartbeat beneath his cheek.

“…Wake me up if anything happens,” Shadow muttered after a while, his voice softer than Sonic had ever heard it.

Sonic smirked sleepily, “Course.”

Downstairs, the house was quiet. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of fabric as Maddie adjusted the throw blanket on the couch and the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen. Tom sat beside her, leaning back against the cushions with a tired sigh.

“They sleep a lot,” he mused, rubbing a hand over his face.

Maddie glanced toward the ceiling, as if she could see through it to where Sonic and Shadow were curled up together upstairs. “They need it,” she said simply.

Tom let out a low chuckle, “I mean, yeah, I get that. But seriously. They’ve been here, what, two nights? And every time I check, they’re either passed out or just waking up.” He shook his head, stretching his legs out in front of him, “It’s like we brought home two stray cats.”

Maddie smirked slightly at that, but her expression softened. “They’ve been through a lot, Tom.”

Tom sighed, tilting his head back against the couch. “Yeah. I know.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful, “It’s just… hard to wrap my head around.”

Maddie folded her arms, sinking slightly into her seat. “We don’t even know the full story.”

Tom frowned. He didn’t like thinking about that part. The part where Sonic and Shadow were just kids, and yet there was a weight in their eyes that no kid should ever have. The part where neither of them flinched at the idea of running again, like they were already bracing for it.

The part where Sonic had looked at him like he expected to be turned away.

Tom exhaled through his nose. “Do you think they’ll tell us?”

Maddie glanced at him, then back toward the ceiling. She wasn’t sure how to answer. “Maybe.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Then, quieter, Maddie added, “But I think they’re used to taking care of themselves. They probably don’t know how to let someone else do it.”

Tom’s chest tightened. He thought about the way Sonic always seemed to hover near the doors, as if he was waiting for an excuse to bolt. The way Shadow kept his guard up even in his sleep.

Tom didn’t know what had happened to them. But he knew what it looked like when someone expected to be abandoned.

And he hated that they looked like that, even if it was his fault. He never wanted this.

Shadow stood in the middle of a long, sterile hallway. The walls were a harsh, blinding white, stretching endlessly in either direction, the kind of white that made his head throb. It smelled like antiseptic, metal, and something sharper, something wrong.

His ears twitched. The sound of distant footsteps echoed down the hall, uneven, growing fainter.

He knew that sound.

Sonic.

Shadow turned sharply, his chest tightening. “Sonic?”

No answer.

His breath quickened as he sprinted forward, the cold tile beneath his feet sending a shiver up his spine. He ran past door after door, identical white slabs with no handles, no markings, no way of knowing where they led. The footsteps were still there, somewhere ahead, always just out of reach.

“Sonic!” His voice echoed, bouncing off the empty halls, swallowed by the silence.

He kept running, faster, faster—

And then the walls changed.

No longer blank, they were now lined with thick glass panels. Through them, he could see into dimly lit rooms, identical, sterile, with nothing but metal tables and heavy restraints.

And inside…

Shadow’s stomach turned.

Inside were endless versions of himself. Shadows of what he used to be, what he still was. Some were strapped down, unmoving, their eyes dull and lifeless. Others writhed, twitching violently, their mouths open in silent screams. Some looked almost normal until their heads turned too far, or their limbs jerked unnaturally, or their eyes flicked toward him with something hollow and soulless.

Shadow’s breathing grew ragged. He wanted to look away, but the glass stretched forever, trapping him in a corridor of distorted reflections.

Then, at the very end of the hall, past all the twisted versions of himself—

Sonic.

Shadow’s heart slammed against his ribs. Sonic stood in the last room, his back turned, his head tilted slightly downward. Unlike the others, he wasn’t restrained. He wasn’t fighting. He just stood there, unmoving, bathed in the cold artificial light.

Shadow ran.

The moment he reached the glass, Sonic finally turned.

Shadow’s breath hitched.

Sonic’s expression was unreadable, his quills disheveled, his fur dull. But it was his eyes that made Shadow freeze. They were empty.

“Sonic.” Shadow pressed his hands against the glass, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Sonic didn’t move.

Shadow’s pulse pounded in his ears. Something was wrong.

Then Sonic’s gaze flickered downward, toward Shadow’s hands against the glass. Slowly, he tilted his head.

“…Why are you still here?”

Shadow’s stomach twisted. “What?”

Sonic’s ears flicked back slightly, his expression unreadable. “I thought you would’ve figured it out by now.”

Shadow’s throat went dry. “Sonic—”

“You don’t belong with me,” Sonic said simply.

The words hit harder than they should have.

Shadow shook his head. “That’s not—”

“You were made for this place.” Sonic gestured vaguely to the hallway, to the twisted versions of Shadow still trapped behind the glass, “You always end up back here.”

Shadow’s breath hitched. “No.”

Sonic let out a soft, almost amused exhale. “Why do you think I left?”

The hallway suddenly felt too small. The air too thin.

“Sonic—” Shadow’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper, “You didn’t leave me. We were separated.”

Sonic just gave him that same empty look. “Were we?”

The glass between them flickered, distorting, cracking.

Shadow’s pulse pounded against his skull. No. No, this wasn’t real. Sonic wouldn’t—he wouldn’t say that. He wouldn’t just leave—

The cracks spread, spiderwebbing outward, splintering the reflection of Sonic into something fractured, wrong. And then, the cracks reached Shadow’s own reflection.

And the moment they did, his reflection moved on its own.

Shadow barely had time to react before his own reflection lunged, hands slamming against the glass from the other side. His own face stared back at him, but the eyes weren’t his—they were hollow, lifeless, identical to the versions of him trapped in the other rooms.

The thing that wore his face grinned, but the expression was wrong, stretched too far. “You thought you could escape?”

Shadow stumbled back as the glass shattered.

And suddenly, hands grabbed him from all sides.

Cold, clawed fingers dug into his arms, his shoulders, his throat. He gasped, twisting, trying to break free, but they were everywhere, hundreds of hands, pulling, clawing, dragging him backward.

His breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of Sonic through the shards of glass.

Sonic hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even flinched.

He just stood there, watching.

Shadow’s heart clenched as he reached out, desperation flooding his chest. “Sonic!”

But Sonic only turned away.

And walked out the door.

The hands yanked harder, dragging Shadow into the dark, into the cold, back where he belonged—

Shadow woke with a violent gasp, his entire body tensing as he shot upright. His breath came in ragged, panicked bursts, his chest heaving.

The room was dark, the air cool. No white walls. No glass. No endless, empty halls.

His pulse hammered in his ears. He was still caught in the haze of the nightmare, suffocating in it, until something, someone, shook his shoulder.

“Shadow!”

Shadow barely registered the voice before instinct took over. His claws lashed out before he could stop himself.

A sharp inhale. A hiss of pain.

The haze lifted instantly.

Shadow’s eyes widened as he saw Sonic, wide-eyed and startled, one hand clutching his face.

And right beneath his right eye…three thin, fresh claw marks.

Shadow’s stomach dropped.

Shadow’s breath caught in his throat. His claws were still curled mid-air, frozen in the aftermath of instinct and fear. Sonic sat back slightly, blinking hard, his hand still pressed against his face. A thin trickle of red welled beneath his fingers.

Shadow’s stomach twisted.

“I—” His voice came out rough, strangled. He reached forward without thinking, grasping Sonic’s wrist and pulling his hand away to assess the damage. The scratches were thin, but fresh, bright against Sonic’s fur. Too close. If his claws had landed just a little higher…

His grip on Sonic’s wrist tightened before he realized it.

“I’m fine,” Sonic said quickly, offering a lopsided smile, though the edges of it wavered, “Just a scratch, dude. You’d need to try way harder to take me out.”

Shadow wasn’t listening. His eyes stayed locked on the wound, his ears flattening against his skull.

Too close.

Sonic shifted, studying him. “You okay, man? That must’ve been a hell of a nightmare.”

Shadow exhaled sharply, finally releasing Sonic’s wrist. He turned away, jaw tightening. “Go back to sleep.”

“Uh, yeah, no. You think I’m gonna just ignore that?” Sonic scooted a little closer, tilting his head, eyes scanning Shadow’s face for something, anything, “C’mon, Shads… talk to me.”

Shadow didn’t respond.

Sonic frowned. “You were thrashing a lot. Mumbling stuff too, but I couldn’t make out what you were saying.” His voice softened, “Shadow… what was it about?”

Shadow clenched his jaw. The nightmare still clung to him, suffocating, the phantom feeling of clawed hands dragging him down, the sound of Sonic’s retreating footsteps still echoing in his ears. He pushed it down, forced his breathing to steady.

“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

Sonic huffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, it kinda does.”

Shadow barely looked at him. Instead, he reached for Sonic’s face again, checking the scratches as if they might’ve deepened in the past few seconds. They hadn’t. But the sight of them still made something tighten in his chest.

Sonic sighed, tilting his head so Shadow could see better, if only to reassure his friend. “Dude. It’s fine.”

Shadow ignored him, brushing his thumb lightly along the edge of the wound, feeling the slight warmth where the skin had been broken. His stomach churned.

Sonic hesitated at the touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he studied Shadow’s face, really studied it. His usual cocky grin was absent now, replaced with something quieter, more thoughtful.

“…You’re more worried about my face than yourself, huh?”

Shadow’s ears flicked, and he pulled his hand back like Sonic had burned him. “I hurt you.”

“Eh.” Sonic waved a hand, “You’ve done worse.”

Shadow shot him a look.

“What? You have,” Sonic said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Pretty sure choking me out on a cargo ship ranks higher than a tiny scratch.”

Shadow’s hands curled into fists in his lap. “That’s not the same.”

Sonic’s expression softened. “Yeah. I know.”

Silence hung between them. The room was dark, the soft sounds of the house settling the only thing breaking the quiet.

Then Sonic sighed dramatically, flopping onto his back. “Man. You are the most stubborn guy I’ve ever met.”

Shadow scowled. “You’re one to talk.”

Sonic grinned up at him. “True.” Then, his expression shifted again, less teasing. “But, for real. You don’t have to tell me everything. Just… don’t try to deal with it alone, okay?”

Shadow exhaled slowly, staring down at his own hands.

Sonic watched Shadow carefully, searching his face for any sign that he might open up just a little. But Shadow only exhaled again, rubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to wipe away the lingering traces of the nightmare. The tense set of his shoulders hadn’t eased, though, and Sonic could still see the way his fingers twitched slightly, like he was fighting the urge to curl them into fists again.

Sonic hesitated. He wanted to push, to nudge Shadow into talking, but… he knew how it felt to be backed into a corner when you weren’t ready. So, instead, he just shifted, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn before flopping onto his side.

“Well, whatever, dude. You’re safe now. So…” He scooted closer, bumping his forehead lightly against Shadow’s arm before settling in like he always did, “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

His body naturally curled toward the warmth beside him, the same way it always had since they’d left that awful place behind. He didn’t even think about it, it was just instinct at this point. Shadow was there, solid and real, and Sonic was drawn to it like he always was.

But then Shadow moved away.

Not just a small shift. No, he pulled back entirely, shifting as far as he could go on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly beneath him.

Sonic blinked, his brain struggling to catch up.

“…Shadow?”

Shadow didn’t look at him. He kept his gaze fixed downward, his expression unreadable, but his ears twitched, betraying the tension coiling in his frame.

Then, quietly, barely above a whisper, “Maybe we shouldn’t sleep together anymore.”

Sonic felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.

His stomach twisted violently, something cold and awful curling in his chest. It took him a second to process the words, like they didn’t make sense at first, like his brain was refusing to accept them.

“…What?” He laughed, but it was thin, uncertain, “Dude, what are you talking about?”

Shadow still didn’t look at him. “I could’ve hurt you worse.”

Sonic’s breath caught in his throat.

“That was a nightmare, Shadow, it’s not—”

“You don’t know that,” Shadow cut him off, his voice sharper now, but not out of anger. He sounded… tired. Guilty, “What if next time it’s worse? What if I don’t wake up in time?”

Sonic swallowed, his heart hammering against his ribs. He could feel his throat tightening, but he forced himself to keep his voice steady. “You wouldn’t—”

“I already did,” Shadow snapped, finally meeting Sonic’s gaze. His eyes burned, filled with something that made Sonic’s stomach twist even more.

Sonic opened his mouth, then shut it.

Because what was he supposed to say to that?

The space between them felt massive now, even though it was just a few feet. Sonic silently cursed the size of the bed.

Sonic’s arms curled around himself, his quills pressing down slightly as his whole body tensed. He felt… cold.

This wasn’t fair.

They had spent so long being trapped, being alone. And now that they finally had each other, Shadow was—what? Pulling away? Just like that?

Sonic shook his head, his voice quieter now, but more fragile, more desperate.

“Shadow…”

Shadow had already turned away.

Sonic didn’t move.

He should say something. Fight back. Tell Shadow he was being dumb and stubborn and that none of this mattered because he was here, and he was fine, and Shadow didn’t have to be afraid of himself.

But the words wouldn’t come.

So instead, he just curled up, pulling his arms tighter around himself.

And for the first time since they had escaped, he felt alone.

Chapter Text

The hum of the glaring lights was a constant, a low drone that buzzed against the skull until you forgot what silence sounded like. The cell was darker than usual, the overhead bulb flickering in arrhythmic pulses that painted both hedgehogs in fragments of light.

Shadow twitches in his sleep.

Only a tremor, at first. The flick of a hand, a muffled sound in his throat. But then his breathing quickened. His body went rigid, every muscle straining as his claws scraped against the wall. The nightmares come often, for both of them, but tonight was worse. His voice broke through in a harsh whisper.

“Maria—don’t—”

Sonic stirred on the other side of the cell, still half asleep, his little body still trembling from the last round of tests, “Shadow?” his voice cracked from overuse, the rasp of exhaustion coating every syllable. He pushed himself up on shaking arms and took a hesitant step closer. “Hey…It’s okay, you’re—”

Before he could finish, Shadow’s eyes snapped open. His instincts kicked in before reason did, like it most often did. His hand shot out and slammed into Sonic’s shoulder, pinning him against the wall with enough force to make the metal groan. Sonic gasped, the air punched out of him as pain flared down his arm.

“Let—go—!” Sonic wheezed, squirming beneath the iron grip. It took a full second for Shadow’s mind to catch up, for the white walls and artificial lights to register again instead of the blood-red haze of his dream. His hand trembled where it pressed against Sonic’s body.

He released him like he’d touched fire.

Sonic stumbled back, clutching his shoulder. The silence that followed was unbearable, thicker than the dark. Shadow stared at his own hands as if they didn’t belong to him.

“I didn’t—” His voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” Sonic interrupted softly, though his breathing was still uneven. He rubbed his shoulder with a wince but took a cautious step forward, “You were dreaming.”

Shadow turned away, shame cutting through him sharper than the cold, “You shouldn’t have come near me.”

Sonic let out a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well. I’ve never been good at staying where I’m told.”

For a moment, neither spoke. The hum of the lights filled the void again. Sonic’s fur was damp with sweat and dried saline from earlier testing, Shadow’s claws still quivered. Eventually, Sonic sat down a few feet away from him, curling his knees to his chest.

“You were saying someone’s name,” Sonic said after a long pause. “Maria?”

Shadow froze. The word lingered between them like a ghost. “You don’t need to know about that.”

“Okay.” Sonic leaned his head against the wall, voice quiet but not defeated. “You don’t have to tell me. I just thought maybe… talking helps. Sometimes.”

The silence stretched again, long enough that Sonic thought he’d been ignored, like he always is. But then, barely audible:

“She was the only one who didn’t treat me like a weapon.”

Sonic’s gaze softened, “She sounds nice.”

“She was.” Shadow’s voice broke, the mask cracking for only a second. “They took her from me.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the lights again and the faint rattle of air through the vents. Shadow stared at the floor, the words still burning in his throat. He hadn’t meant to say them, hadn’t meant to let anything slip. Vulnerability never ended well here.

Then he felt movement beside him.

Sonic had inched closer, quiet as breath. His small hand hovered halfway between them, fingers trembling but steady in intent. He didn’t touch him, he waited, those bright, too-gentle eyes fixed on Shadow’s face, searching for permission.

Shadow didn’t know why he didn’t pull away. Maybe because he was too tired. Maybe because, for once, the warmth in those eyes didn’t make him feel like just a test subject. He gave the faintest nod, barely a motion at all, but it was enough.

Sonic leaned forward, wrapping his arms around him with the kind of care Shadow didn’t think anyone could muster for something like him. It was awkward, clumsy, Sonic was all bones and bruises, and Shadow didn’t quite know where to put his hands, but it was real and warm, and it was the best they could get.

Shadow didn’t mean to notice, but he did: the faint twitch of Sonic’s tail where it rested beside him. It wagged once, a hesitant, gentle flick that brushed against Shadow’s leg. The motion was so small, so innocent, it ached. He wondered if Sonic even realized he was doing it.

“...She was kind of like that, too,” Sonic murmured suddenly, his voice muffled by Shadow’s chest.

“Who?”

“Longclaw.” The name came out soft, almost reverent, “She… she was my mother. My family, I guess. The only one I had.”

Shadow didn’t reply, but Sonic didn’t need him to. The words kept spilling out, quiet and fragile in the heavy air.

“She used to teach me how to glide through the wind currents around our home. Said the air could carry you anywhere if you listened to it right. I thought it was just a game, but… she meant it. She was trying to teach me how to survive without her.” He let out a shaky breath, clutching a little tighter around Shadow’s middle. “And I couldn’t.”

Shadow frowned faintly, “couldn’t what?”

“Couldn’t listen, didn’t learn fast enough. The bad people came, and she tried to protect me. She threw me through a ring portal before they got her, but…” He swallowed hard, and Shadow could feel it against his chest. “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve helped her. Maybe if I was faster, stronger—she wouldn’t have—”

His voice cracked, splintering into silence.

Shadow’s first instinct was to pull away. Words like sorry felt too small, too useless, especially coming from someone who’d just slammed him into a wall minutes ago. But Sonic’s shaking arms stayed around him, and the weight of that trust rooted him in place.

“She made you run,” Shadow said finally, his tone softer than he intended, softer than it had ever been, “Because she wanted you to live. That’s not your fault.”

Sonic gave a wet laugh, half sob, half disbelief, “You sound like her.”

“I am not.”

“Definitely not,” Sonic said, pulling back just enough to look at him. His eyes shimmered faintly in the flickering light. “But you care. You act like you don’t, but you do. We’ll run away together, remember?”

That line again. The one that always managed to find a crack in Shadow’s armor. He looked away, jaw tight, but he didn’t push Sonic off when the younger hedgehog leaned back against him again.

“I miss her,” Sonic whispered. “Every day. Even when I try not to think about it. It’s like… there’s this hole that won’t go away, you know?”

Shadow knew. He’d known since the day Maria’s laughter was replaced by gunfire.

He nodded once, slow and deliberate, his hand hovering for a long moment before resting awkwardly against Sonic’s back. The boy’s fur was coarse and soft all at once, warm beneath his trembling fingers. Sonic relaxed at the touch, his tail giving another small, unconscious wag.

Shadow’s eyes snapped open.

For a second, the world was still the cell, white walls, humming lights, the sharp tang of antiseptic in his nose. His chest heaved, breath ragged, pulse hammering beneath his skin. He could still feel Sonic’s arms around him, the warmth pressed against his chest, the soft weight of a tail brushing his leg.

But when he blinked, the light above wasn’t fluorescent. It was soft, gold.

The ceiling came into focus. The quiet hum of the facility gave way to the faint creak of the house settling, the distant whisper of wind through pine.

He was in Green Hills.

Shadow drew a slow breath, letting the air sting his lungs. His fur was damp, he lifted a hand to his cheek and felt it, the wet trace of tears drying against his face. His chest still hurt, it always did after those dreams.

He sat up slowly, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple. The flashback lingered like an echo, Sonic’s voice, small and trembling, we’ll run away together, remember?

He exhaled shakily, glancing toward the other side of the room.

Empty.

The blanket on Sonic’s side of the bed was tossed aside, the indentation in the mattress already cooling. The blue hedgehog’s shoes were gone from where they’d been kicked under the nightstand, and the faintest draft of morning air drifted through the cracked window.

A strange tightness gripped Shadow’s chest. He told himself it was habit, years of waking in cells, checking for movement, ensuring the other wasn’t dragged away in the night. But it didn’t feel like that. It felt like the slow pull of dread.

He swung his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge as his pulse refused to steady. The memory wouldn’t fade, the cell, the trembling arms around him, the promise whispered against his chest.

We’ll run away together.

They had. And still, somehow, they were both running.

He rubbed at his face again, irritated by the damp fur on his cheeks. The tears felt like weakness, like a past version of himself had crawled up from the dark to remind him he didn’t deserve peace. He told himself Sonic had probably just gone downstairs, but the silence of the room made it hard to believe.

He stood, his movements slow and measured, scanning the shadows that stretched long and soft across the floorboards. It was still early; the world outside barely stirring. For a fleeting second, he wished he could sink back into that dream, the cold room, the warmth in Sonic’s arms, the way he had believed so easily that they’d both survive.

Then he caught himself wishing, and the thought made him clench his fists. Wishing didn’t fix anything.

He turned toward the door, jaw set, but the quiet ache in his chest didn’t fade. The fur along his cheeks had dried by then, leaving behind the faintest trace of salt on his skin.

Shadow swallowed hard, stepping into the hallway.

The floorboards creaked under his weight as he moved down the hall. The faint smell of something sweet, or possibly burnt, he wouldn’t know the difference, drifted up the stairs, cutting through the cool morning air. He caught the murmur of voices below, punctuated by a burst of laughter that made his chest tighten for reasons he couldn’t name.

He reached the bottom step, pausing just before the kitchen came into view. It was chaos.

Flour dusted the counter, the stove, and somehow the walls. A bowl of batter sat half-stirred beside a carton of eggs, several already cracked open and leaking across the surface. Sonic stood in the middle of it all, whisk in hand, wearing one of Maddie’s smallest, but still impossibly too big, aprons that hung crookedly around his waist. His quills were flecked with specks of flour, his fur puffed in every direction like static.

Maddie hovered near the counter, coffee mug in hand, eyes darting between Sonic and the mess with careful calculation. Tom stood a few feet away, hands folded tensely over his chest, watching the hedgehog with a mixture of caution and quiet concern. Neither spoke; their smiles were tight, nervous.

“You’re supposed to pour it slowly,” Maddie said, voice measured, though her eyebrow twitched at the pancake Sonic had already mangled.

“Hey, that one had potential!” Sonic protested, grabbing a spatula as though sheer enthusiasm could redeem it. “You just didn’t let me finish my artistic vision.”

“Your ‘vision’ is… hazardous,” Tom said carefully, gesturing toward the pan as smoke began to curl upward.

“It’s called caramelization!” Sonic countered, (Shadow was sure the other hedgehog had no idea what that word even meant) waving his hand through the smoke, coughing a little. “Completely intentional.”

Shadow stood in the doorway, silent. The whole scene was so far removed from the nightmare that had filled his dreams and the night before that, for a moment, he couldn’t process it. The sunlight streaming through the window caught on the flour in the air, turning it into a soft haze of gold. Sonic was laughing, real laughter, bright and unguarded, the kind he never heard back in the facility.

Shadow didn’t realize his shoulders had eased until he felt it.

Sonic looked up mid-spin (or what might have been another attempt at flipping something) and froze when he saw him. “Oh—! Morning, sleepyhead!” He grinned, ears perking, despite the way Shadow had acted the previous night, ever the forgiving hedgehog. “You, uh… missed breakfast prep. Lucky you.”

Tom’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he took a cautious step back. Maddie leaned slightly forward, eyes narrowing. Neither moved to intervene, but their wariness was palpable.

“Prep is one word for it,” Maddie murmured under her breath, though she stayed rooted behind the counter.

“More like a war crime,” Tom muttered quietly.

Sonic gasped dramatically. “Excuse you, this is gourmet experimentation!”

Shadow’s gaze swept the kitchen again, the mess, the laughter, the dog now sniffing at Sonic’s feet. It was ridiculous. Pointless. And yet… something in his chest eased just a fraction.

Sonic bounced on his heels, holding up the half-formed pancake with pride, tail wagging excitedly behind him. “C’mon, Shads, don’t just stand there lookin’ all broody. You’re gonna love this one!”

Shadow crossed his arms, eyebrow twitching. “Doubtful.”

Maddie exchanged a glance with Tom, unease written clearly on both their faces. “Be careful,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Tom’s jaw tightened. “Just… try not to break anything else.”

Sonic’s grin only widened. “Challenge accepted.”

Shadow sighed, long and deep, resigned. But when Sonic turned back to the stove, humming under his breath and half-dancing with each flip, Shadow couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Shadow lingered at the edge of the kitchen, watching Sonic fumble with the spatula, flour puffing up around him with every spin of the pancake. The blue hedgehog moved with the same reckless energy he always had, fast, loud, impossible to pin down, but something was different now. Not just the mess he made, though that was still monumental. Not just the laughter that echoed without fear or restraint. Shadow noticed the way the light fell across Sonic’s quills, the way the edges of his fur caught the gold of the morning sun. He looked… alive. Whole, in a way Shadow had never thought possible for this boy.

It was disorienting.

He had known Sonic as small, fragile, desperate. A creature hunted, constantly pulled between terror and hope. The years in the Facility had hardened them both, but Sonic had emerged with a resilience that defied logic, a resilience Shadow had often envied, even when he hated himself for it. And now, here, in this small, sunlit kitchen in Green Hills, Sonic was unrecognizable, not in form, perhaps, but in essence. He had grown into something bright, irrepressible, untethered by the constant shadow of death.

Shadow’s mind went through the motions of memory, relentless. He remembered Sonic’s retelling of him fleeing with Longclaw, the way the little owl had sacrificed herself without hesitation, leaving him alone in a world that had never been kind. He remembered the cold of the G.U.N. Facility, the cold of steel floors beneath his palms, the cold of Sonic’s trembling hands clutching his own. He remembered the forced fights, the explosions, the blood and heat and fear, and the way Sonic had still somehow smiled through it, even when everything else threatened to break him.

And now… now he was here. Alive. Smiling. Laughing. Flour in his fur, pride in his chest.

Shadow’s jaw tightened. He did not want to think in terms of beauty. That was not his way. Yet he could not deny the way his chest had constricted when Sonic had turned toward him just now, bright eyes wide with expectation. The boy was healthy. Strong. Freer than he had any right to be after everything that had been done to them. And still, there was that reckless light in him, the impossible optimism that made Shadow’s own careful calculations feel brittle and insignificant.

He stepped closer, almost without thinking, drawn in by the warmth and the movement. The fur along his shoulders remained tense, the edge of his claws pressing faintly against the hardwood, but his eyes did not leave Sonic’s face. Each laugh, each misstep with the pancake, each tiny victory in the chaos, it was intoxicating. And terrifying.

Terrifying because it reminded him of what he had lost, of what could be taken again. Terrifying because Sonic… deserved this. Deserved sunlight and warmth and ridiculous pancakes that folded themselves in midair. Shadow had spent years believing the world would not allow him such indulgences, believing he had no right to happiness. Yet here it was, sitting before him in flour and spilled eggs.

He wanted to look away.

And yet he could not, would not.

Sonic caught a stray bit of batter on the spatula, eyes lighting up as though he had invented the concept of pancakes itself. He turned briefly toward Shadow, as if inviting him into the chaos. “C’mon, Shads! You’ve got to try this one!”

Shadow’s claws flexed, a silent gesture of restraint. He was not… ready. Not for participation, not for attachment. And yet, as Sonic’s smile reached across the room, something inside him ached with the knowledge that he had missed so much. That he had failed, in some abstract way, to protect this boy, and that every year that Sonic had survived, every laugh he had shared, had been hard-won.

He remembered Maria. Her voice, soft and insistent, her faith in him even when he had doubted himself. He remembered the guilt he carried, the knowledge that failure had a shape, a color, a smell, and that it had been a constant shadow at his back for years.

And now here was Sonic, alive. Whole. Joyful. Beautiful.

Shadow had always hated that word, hated the softness it implied, the vulnerability it hinted at. But there was no denying it now. Sonic’s beauty was not only in his form or features, though the way his quills caught the sunlight was remarkable, or the way his small frame moved with unrestrained energy. It was in his survival. In the way he carried every scar, every memory, every narrow escape without allowing it to harden him completely. It was in the resilience that pulsed through his veins, visible in the tilt of his ears, the curve of his grin, the unstoppable rhythm of his heartbeat.

Shadow wanted to catalog it all, to commit it to memory as though he could preserve it against time. Because there would be time. And there would be danger. And the world was not gentle.

He observed the small, almost imperceptible changes in Sonic, the faint weight of muscle in his arms, the strength in his legs as he bounced from stove to counter, the way his tail flicked with impatience and delight. Sonic was not the frightened child who had clung to him in the Facility. He was someone else entirely, yet unmistakably the same.

Shadow’s throat tightened. He did not allow himself to think of the warmth that stirred in his chest, the strange, unnamable tug at his core that pulsed whenever Sonic laughed or looked at him with that careless trust. He did not allow himself to dwell on it. And yet, it lingered. A constant, persistent whisper: he has survived, he is alive, he is yours to protect.

He had learned over the years to control the whisper. To silence it. To ignore it. To survive. To endure.

And yet it persisted, and he would let it.

Shadow turned his gaze away briefly, scanning the edges of the room, calculating the distance to the door, the counter, the scattered eggs. Practicalities. Safety.

But his eyes returned, inevitably, to Sonic.

There was something fierce in him now, a spark that had never truly died, that had been buried beneath years of fear and confinement and cruelty. It shone brightly here, in this small kitchen, in the warmth of morning sun, in the reckless joy of a boy who had fought so hard to be alive. Shadow could not look away.

And for a moment, he allowed himself the dangerous thought: perhaps he could let himself care. Perhaps he could allow the warmth to touch him, even fractionally. Perhaps he could stand here, silent and watchful, and simply… exist alongside this creature, this survivor, this boy who had grown into something magnificent against every conceivable odds.

Sonic caught a bit of batter on the spatula again, his grin weakening. “You okay there, Shads? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Shadow’s lips pressed into a thin line, the faintest hint of exhale escaping. He was not ready to speak. He was not ready to smile. But he could watch and he could acknowledge, silently, that Sonic was beautiful. That he had grown.

And perhaps, in some quiet, unspoken way, Shadow had grown too.

He would not say it aloud. He would not reach forward. He would not… allow himself the luxury of feeling entirely. But he could watch. And in watching, he could remember what it meant to hope.