Chapter Text
The idea that you were dying never really sat right with you.
It wasn’t the fact that you were so young, nor was it the fact that you had no one to really support you through this. You had just never considered you would actually die. It seemed like a fate unachievable- so far away from the realm of reality that it never crossed your mind. That was until the symptoms started showing up; the nosebleeds that ruined the sleeves of your well-loved jackets and the vomiting that ruined your carpet (and the security deposit for your apartment). And then a man in a white coat holding a clipboard gave you your own personal death sentence. You had eight months to live.
Acute lymphocytic leukemia is what he called it. A whole bunch of abnormal white blood cells were in your bone marrow. Eventually they’d spread to other parts of your body like mold, and you’d cease to be. You would leave this world without anyone knowing you ever existed, except for the few people in Station Square that have possibly seen your face and somehow remembered it. You tried not to be noticed, typically. But that wasn’t always easy. You were the type that always managed to stick out like a cowlick.
“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. A stream of thick blood had wormed its way down from your nose to your mouth without you noticing. The metallic taste shocked you out of zoning out and staring at the bright, yellow ‘keep off the tracks’ sign. It was the only colorful thing to look at in the dullness of the familiar subway station. You quickly wiped the blood away with your sleeve, being grateful you wore your black hoodie today so no one could see the patches of dry blood stiffening the fabric. You looked around, and thankfully it didn’t seem like anyone saw. Your usual train pulled into its station and opened its sleek metal doors. You leaned down to pick up your purse and grocery bags from the floor. As you did, rapid, thunderous footsteps approached- possibly someone that was desperate to not miss their train. It wasn’t uncommon for you to see people sprinting towards the tracks the minute the door opened so they could get a good seat, or any seat at all for that matter. You paid it no mind.
Suddenly, someone much taller and heavier than you bumped you hard enough to knock the bag of groceries you had in your arms to the ground. You physically grimaced at the sound of your eggs cracking against the concrete. You were able to catch yourself before you fell by bracing your hands against the stone column behind you, but there were casualties.
“‘Scuse us!” The man yelled gruffly as he scurried away. He had a friend with him, another man. Both were dressed in black, with long tattoos up their arms and hoods over their heads. You had the gut feeling that he didn’t feel much remorse. You knelt down to your groceries with a woeful sigh. An entire day of pay, down the drain. You didn't really have to worry about money much anymore, but the principle still applied. You hated wasting things, especially food.
A shoe vaulted off of your decimated groceries like they were a trampoline, sending the yolks of the eggs and an entire gallon of milk to splatter and spread across the floor, and by extension, you. You wiped the milk from your eyes with your thumbs quick enough to see the monster that had done this. By your surprise, it was… a Mobian. He was black with red stripes and quills that went in every direction. You didn’t see a lot of Mobians around here, especially not in areas of high crime like the subway. And he seemed like an especially strange one, with his futuristic roller skates and the large golden rings around his wrists.
“You… Asshole!” you shouted after him. He looked surprised by your vocal protest, and turned his head slightly to peer at you. His gaze silenced you immediately. His eyes were cold and crimson, reminiscent of a hawk. He left without a word, speeding up his pace down the empty concrete jungle of the subway station. He was in full pursuit after the suspicious looking men that came before him, and you figured he just had no time to deal with something as inconsequential as you. Despite this, you fumed. Mobian or not, this dude was a jerk, and you knew that to be true in your heart.
You peeled the wet, brown paper bag from the ground and into your hands. It felt disgusting, but you refused to make this subway any grosser than it already was. You scuttled over to the nearest trash can, practically launching the soggy paper into it. Begrudgingly, you wiped the milk and yolk that coated your hands onto your jeans, just in time to board your train before the doors closed. You pressed your back to the now closed door, feeling the vibration of the moving train through your worn-out shoes.
If you knew anything, you knew that if you ever saw that Mobian again, you’d give him a piece of your mind.
With your lifespan greatly shortening, it was a great time to consider what you could do with what time you had left. Theoretically, if you committed to the chemo treatment like the doctor insisted, you might have been able to earn yourself a few more months of life. But who would want to go through that? Especially with your death already being set in stone. You didn’t want suffering in a hospital bed with IV needles in both arms to be your final experience. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly feeling dry.
You sat down on your couch, throwing your purse and jacket onto the coffee table. You'd changed out of your milk-soaked clothing later, hopefully before they soured, but for now you had a mission. You leaned back, breathing in deeply. Every breath counts as this point. Might as well enjoy it.
You grabbed the notebook and pen off of the table, opening it and setting it on your knee. You had originally intended to use this notebook for journaling your process through chemo, but that was before the doctor figured out it was terminal. Now writing down your thoughts seemed a little pointless. No future archaeologist would be digging through your journal to find answers on life’s greatest mysteries. There would be no one to inherit it after your death, no next of kin or friends. It’d probably be thrown out whenever your landlord was ready to rent out your apartment again. In the meantime, you could use it for planning.
- I want to make a friend.
It was somewhat embarrassing to admit but not a lot of people stuck around in your life after high school. Having little to no family to speak of didn’t help either. You didn’t have any immediate family nearby, and all your other relatives were distant literally and emotionally. You’d been riding solo for a few years now and it was lonely to say the least. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone by your side up until your final moments.
- I want to fall in love.
You grimaced as you wrote this down. Despite being alone, it felt embarrassing to think about, nevertheless actually write into your bucket list. It was something you never achieved, and you probably didn’t have much of a chance now, especially considering you had an expiration date. Might as well write it down anyways, right? You bit the end of your pen as you considered what else to write.
- I want to eat fancy food.
With the inheritance from your parents’ estate and what little money you had saved up from working your minimum-wage job for a few years, you had money to burn. With no need to worry about retirement, and no kids to speak of, there was no need to save anymore. Some might say this was a silver-lining, but it was too melancholy to enjoy at the moment. You always wanted to try real lobster. Maybe you could finally take that trip to Italy like you always dreamed of.
- I want to see the ocean.
Living landlocked and far from the coast for most of your life, you never got to experience the glory of the ocean. Even if there was a sea right on the edge of Station Square, you couldn’t ever find the chance to get close to it with all the tourists. You thought you’d get the opportunity after moving to Station Square last year, but you’d put off even trying for quite a while because of the sheer amount of people constantly there. It was crowded, and stuffy, and too loud to read or relax. You might have to travel for it, but it seemed worth it. Or maybe you could find a day where the shorelines are quiet and empty, and you can finally dip your toes into the water. Maybe the ocean would swallow you whole inside of it, suck you down deep beneath the water, away from the hospital visits and the fears that ate away at you every night.
You closed your notebook, sticking the pen into the wire spine. It had been a while since you’d been able to sleep well. Maybe you’d try again tonight. You wondered how many sleeps you had left. Would you miss sleeping or dreaming? Would you be able to miss anything? You physically shook your head. You needed sleep.
Without missing a beat, the monotonous rhythm of rock music emanated from below your feet. You checked your phone; it was nine o’clock. Your downstairs neighbor was home from work earlier than usual. They wouldn’t be as much of an annoyance if they didn’t play their music so loud and so late at night. You stomped on the carpet below your feet, and as per usual, they banged their side of the ceiling back at you. This little song and dance you both did was just part of your schedule at this point. Usually you’d turn up your music louder in retaliation, but you were too exhausted at this point. They were allowed to win this time. You shuffled to bed, and watched the stars blink back at you until sleep took over.
You exited the dreary subway the next morning. The warm air was starting to come back to this side of the planet. It was finally April, so many of the flowering trees and bushes in the area were spitting out their annual flurry of pollen. Despite your allergies suffering, it felt as if the Earth itself was swelling with life, and you couldn’t help but enjoy it. It might be your final April, but it was the most beautiful one you’d ever seen. You wondered if every April had been this beautiful and you simply never noticed. How much of your life had you missed while you still thought you had much more time left on Earth?
You turned the corner, approaching the quaint diner you worked for. What you saw startled you; a Mobian, with black fur and red stripes. His cold, crimson eyes scanned the city streets. He had his back pressed to the brick wall behind him, seemingly observing the people of the city go about their day. You stopped dead in your tracks. Several of the people walking behind you grumbled in annoyance and went around you, but you could barely even register they were there.
You became aware at a very young age that words had power, so you often kept your thoughts close to you, tucked away in an envelope for safe-keeping. You always thought you’d get a chance to say those words eventually- maybe not today, but one day. You folded them, and signed them, and dotted all of your ‘i's, and crossed all your ‘t’s. But you often resigned yourself to never speaking, never fighting back or speaking your mind. One day you’d have the chance to live and speak like there were no consequences. One day you’d rip open the envelope and rip off the bandage. But you didn’t have many days left.
Before you could stop yourself, the words fell from your mouth like a hailstorm. “You- you asshole! You again!”
His black, pointy ears perked up at the sound of your voice. It took him far too long to figure out why your voice seemed so familiar, but when he did, it visibly annoyed him. “Hmph. You’re the screaming woman from the train station?”
You couldn’t help the flabbergasted look on your face. “Screaming woman? Are you serious? You’re the jerk that stomped my groceries!”
“Do you think I care?” he scoffed. “You’re wasting my time-” His cockiness suddenly melted away along with the furrow in his brows. A new and unexpected look of concern laced his features; it looked foreign on him, like he wasn’t built to show anything but contempt. “Your nose. You’re injured?”
Your blood ran cold and your cheeks burned in embarrassment. Not now, anytime but now. You pressed your lips together, indeed feeling the warm blood coagulate against your skin. Rubbing it on your sleeve wouldn’t do much at this point to hide it, but you didn’t want it dripping down and staining your t-shirt. It was the only one you had left that wasn’t either already stained or dark in color.
“I’m okay,” you muttered past the thick fabric of your hoodie sleeve. “Allergies do this to me sometimes.” You gestured to the pollen coating the cars around you, hoping he understood and believed you.
He paused, raising an eyebrow, before he darkly chuckled. “Humans are such fragile creatures. First you literally cry over spilled milk, and now pollen can make you bleed? Let me guess, did I hurt your feelings too?”
“You ruined like sixty dollars worth of food for me!” you shouted. Several people turned their heads toward you. Some glared, some slowed down to watch as they passed by, but most just awkwardly glanced before going back to minding their own business. You tried not to make eye contact. This was humiliating enough as is, you didn’t want anyone seeing your nose bleed and thinking you were contagious.
His expression reeked of boredom and he blinked twice at you with so much sarcasm that it stung your pride a little. “Is that a lot to you?”
You threw your hands to your sides and slapped them back to your hips with frustration. “Yes, actually!”
“Maybe you should consider not leaving precious items just sitting around in crowded places.” He smirked and crossed his arms as if he’d just made the ultimate comeback. You seethed, but bit your tongue. “I’m pretty sure they have signs around the subway explicitly saying that.”
You huffed at him, mirroring him and crossing your arms in return. “I’m pretty sure running in the subway is also prohibited. But you seriously saw my bag there and just didn’t care? You just wanted to step on someone’s food? Ruin their day?”
“You were in my way. I don’t suggest you let it happen again. You're nothing more than the nuisance who almost tripped me when I was trying to do my job.” Once again his gaze turned cold. You shivered, but not because his words scared you. This guy wasn’t tough. However, he knew how to make you feel small.
You scoffed, hoping you sounded resilient, far too aware that it sounded fake. “A nuisance? Whatever, dude. Just watch your step next time.”
You turned to leave, wanting the satisfaction of ending the dispute yourself. Fate had other plans in order. Your vision swayed with your sudden movement. You waited for it to stop- it usually stopped after a second or two- but your head continued to swim like you were dropped in a lake without floaties. You were helpless as your entire world spun around you. It felt as if it were about to collapse at any moment so you clung to the brick wall next to you to keep your balance. This symptom was new. New and highly concerning.
The Mobian froze. His eyes were transfixed on you, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of worry or pity. He sighed deeply like he came to some kind of realization. When he finally spoke it sounded pained and forced; he said it pointedly and through his teeth. “I’ll watch my step next time. I’m sorry... For what I said.”
You were taken aback by the unexpected kindness but he caught your ear. You tentatively turned back to him, careful to be slow to camouflage your dizziness. “Really? You are?” you asked in genuine disbelief.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me say it again.” He stepped forward closer to you. He stuck out a white, gloved hand. “I’m known as Shadow the Hedgehog.”
“Shadow, huh?” you smirked and took his hand, shaking it. He had a firm grip, and his eyes never broke contact with yours. His gaze was confident and intimidating yet earnest all the same. “If your apology was sincere, I'll think about forgiving you. I’m [y/n], by the way.”
Shadow didn’t care for loud women (Amy coming to mind), or annoying humans, but he was a man of his word. Shadow kept his promises. Keeping the Earth safe was his life mission now. Maria valued all life, even life as frustrating as… you. He would never understand what she saw in the average person like you; weak, stubborn, selfish even. However, keeping the lifeforms of Earth safe fell somewhat under his jurisdiction. Something pulled at him, practically urging him to watch over you for the time being. The thought was foreign and it made him uncomfortable. In fact, he wouldn’t typically even bother, not with individual humans, but he could sense that you needed something. He wasn’t sure what you needed though. Not yet. There was something deeper going on, surely. He committed your face, name, and scent to memory. He added you to his encyclopedia of people in Station Square, just another page to keep tabs on. Just another being to keep alive. Nothing more than that.
“I have to go, my shift starts in fifteen minutes and I need to get changed into uniform or else I’ll be late again. And probably fired. I’ll see you around though. Maybe you can pay me back for my groceries sometime?” You were frustrated by him, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at his furrowed brows and deep frown.
“We’ll meet again. As protector of this world, I’m sure we’ll cross paths again. I live here in Station Square so I frequent the area often. Not that the idea of having the displeasure of speaking to you another time excites me.” Shadow grumbled.
He twisted around and skated off before you could give another sarcastic remark, leaving a trail of amber light in his wake. He probably had to go get a cat out of a tree or receive a key to the city; whatever being ‘protector of the city’ meant. You weren’t sure if he was lying or not. You’d never heard of a position of that sort before, but then again, it’d never be a job you’d apply for.
You let go of the idea and relaxed. You didn’t even notice how tense you were until then. Shadow made you nervous- not because he was in his entirety intimidating, but he gave you the feeling of unease. He made you feel like a bug on the sidewalk when he looked at you. Would he squish you against the concrete? Did he even care to give you that attention? You barely knew him, but you could tell he wasn’t exactly a socialite or an extrovert. You could only hope you wouldn’t see him again. But what were the chances of that? Station Square was one of the biggest cities in the country; it housed millions of people. You never saw the same person twice.
You walked into the retro diner, smelling the same garbage food, seeing the same rude co-workers, and hearing the same boss scream at the cooks in the back. The garish orange walls and yellowing tiled floors were disgusting, but they were oddly comforting in their familiarity. One of the cooks probably didn’t show up, judging by the crowd of people. Your day would certainly be ruthless. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. You hurried to the back, getting dressed and in uniform before sighing and pulling out your notebook. You’d have to be quick. Pulling out your pen, you quickly scribbled down your next goal.
- I want to quit my horrible job.