Chapter Text
The apartment’s empty when Sonic steps inside. The balcony door on the far side shut tight, all the lights off besides a dim one from the range hood in the kitchen. Too dark. Too quiet. Shadow must have already left and, if that's the case, Rouge really is going to kill him for putting this off for so long. That is if Shadow doesn't find him later and finish him off first.
Rain water slides off his fingers and quills in sharp plips as he walks past the couch. Someone picked up the toppled mug already, the spilled tea cleaned up, even the dish towel has been grabbed out of the sink and the kettle put away. The more he looks it over, the whole place sits spotless. Not even an ounce of dust on any surface. Anywhere. He laughs under his breath, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter. Man, if only Shadow dropped by Tails' place, maybe he could make some sense of the chaos there.
Sonic's ears twitch towards the footsteps behind him.
“Your blood sugar's low and I assume you haven't taken the time to consume anything that doesn't come out of a bottle recently," Shadow says. “I'm sure you can find something in the pantry caustic enough for your palate.”
Sonic turns to look at Shadow, stomach curling despite the smile he puts on. “Says the guy who eats coffee beans like they're cereal.”
Shadow crosses his arms. “They have flavor.”
“So do chili dogs!”
“Tch. Debatable.”
“Yeah, whatever—look, how can you even tell, anyways?” Sonic asks, realizing how shaky his hands are, everything a little wobblier the more he thinks about it. “Is that another thing you got? Like some alien stuff or somethin’?”
Can Shadow smell his blood?
“No.” Shadow looks him over in a sweep. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
Huh. Okay. Admittedly, he's not really sure when the last time he ate was anymore. Probably yesterday. Maybe. He checks the pantry and grimaces. Nothing looks appetizing. Honestly, the more he thinks about it the worse the nausea gets, his chest still too tight.
“Is there, like, soda or somethin’, I'm not really—”
“Sit down.”
Sonic sits in one of the chairs at the small kitchen table. The unsteadiness settling out as he leans over it, elbows keeping him propped up. Shadow grabs an apple from a bowl on the counter and pulls down a cutting board and starts to section it. He kicks his legs back and forth in the chair, listening to the sound of the knife chewing through the flesh and biting the board with a clack, sneakers scuffing against the tile.
“You really don't gotta do this, I'm—”
“Here.” Shadow drops the sliced apples in front of him and sits in the chair across from him.
Sonic picks at one of the pieces. When he bites into it, it's wet enough he doesn't want to spit it out immediately. It's at least not something dry, brittle and small enough to be shoved through the bars of a cell. He puts the skin of the apple back on the cutting board before grabbing another slice. “Thanks…”
“Of course you wouldn't eat the skin,” Shadow says.
“The texture’s all wrong, I can't chew that, man. It's all gross.”
Shadow rolls his eyes.
Sonic manages to eat another, picking at the leftover skin and twisting it apart with a snap as his stomach curls. “About earlier...”
“It was a misunderstanding. I gave you permission to ‘get it over with’.” Shadow finger quotes, frowning. “And you followed those conditions.”
“Still, I shouldn't have.” Sonic laughs, shrinking. “I should've known better. For what it's worth, I really should've.”
“It's behind us. As long as you don't do it again.”
“Yeah,” Sonic sighs. "Course not. I'd never—I wouldn't do that.”
Shadow eyes him.
Sonic shrinks again at that. Obviously, he wouldn't never, considering he literally already did. He mashes his hands against each other, legs jogging in place as he avoids looking at Shadow’s eyes.
“What endeavored you to come to such a conclusion in the first place?”
Sonic shrugs. “You were doin' all that stuff for me, so I thought I should, y'know, return the favor or something.”
“By sleeping with me?” Shadow asks.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Sonic blinks. “Why what?”
“Why is your assumption that what I choose to do is merely in order to receive something in return from you?”
“Cause, you're literally never nice to me.”
Shadow scoffs. “So my being ‘nice’ to you means that I want to sleep with you?”
Sonic grimaces. “When you put it like that it sounds kinda—”
“If you patched up a wound on my person, would you expect that I thank you on my knees after?” Shadow asks.
Sonic's muzzle wrinkles. “No.”
“So, then why does that logic apply to you?”
Sonic shrugs.“I dunno. I just didn't know what else to do. You said you had trouble sleeping and when you said there were other ways to get to sleep, I thought you meant—”
Shadow sneers. “You thought?”
Sonic's ears press back.
“Do you often seek out intercourse whenever sleep escapes you?”
Sonic scrunches up his snout. Intercourse is such a goofy way to put it. “I guess.”
“So most nights, then,” Shadow says.
“Not, like...every night.”
The look Shadow levels him with is beyond skeptical.
Sonic's hands sting and prick under his gloves.
“Okay, so what?” Sonic snaps, the sudden sharpness of it nearly startling himself. “You wanna rap sheet or somethin'? A calendar? Sorry I didn't print out the list of who I've slept with and who I haven't gotten to yet.”
“Do you even want to sleep with them? Or is it just a gratification drive for you?” Shadow asks.
“If you're askin' if I like it, sure, I guess. I don't really care. Half of them already know me anyways, it's just, like—whatever. They get to brag they slept with the war hero and I get to sleep for more than an hour, everybody wins.”
He doesn't mention the fact that some part of it feels good. Like, really good. Not whatever he's doing with them or with who—he doesn't really care about that, if he's being honest—but to be wanted like that. He can't explain it. It hardly even makes sense to himself. It's the same feeling he gets when things get down to the wire, when he's full of adrenaline, danger so hot on his heels that he can't even think. It's like...
“And what exactly keeps you from finding rest?”
Sonic stiffens. “Who knows. It's kinda like when I need to run except, y'know, not that. I just gotta do it.”
“There's a difference between wanting and needing something, hedgehog,” Shadow says evenly.
“Okay, but–” Sonic scrubs at his face. “Why does that even matter?”
“Why does what even matter?”
“The difference, the whole—” Sonic waves a hand. “It's whatever. It's just sex. It doesn't mean anything.”
“You do realize for many people it does,” Shadow says. “Or are you really that dense?”
Sonic makes an annoyed sound and collapses against the chair back, heels pushing against the floor until the front chair legs lean off the ground. “C’mon, man, seriously? It's like running or watching a movie, it's just something you do. It's not special or whatever. It's not like"—he gestures, searching for the right word—”some magical thing that changes everything about you once you have it.”
Shadow's shoe hits the chair leg, making the legs fall back to the ground with a thwack. “Do you actually believe any of the things you're saying or do you merely enjoy listening to yourself talk?”
“Whaddayou even know, huh?” Sonic laughs. “You're like the world's oldest virgin.”
“I've had sex,” Shadow says.
“Yeah, okay, sure. And I’m celibate.” Sonic rolls his eyes. “Really funny joke, dude.”
“What makes you think I'm joking?”
Sonic blinks. “You're serious?”
Shadow gives him a flat look. “Deadly.”
Hah. Rouge must have taught him that one. “Okay? Do ya want, like, a medal here or somethin'?”
“I want you to get it through your skull that you're not some thing merely for other people's amusement.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” Shadow asks.
Sonic's eyes narrow. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do.”
“The evidence would state otherwise.”
“What evidence, man? You barely even know me!”
“I know enough about you to tell that you are going to get hurt—or worse,” Shadow says.
“Why do you even care?” Sonic asks.
“Would you prefer it if I didn't care?”
Sonic squirms in his seat. “It'd make this easier.”
“And what exactly is that?” Shadow asks.
“I don't know!” Sonic throws out an arm towards the rest of the apartment. “Can you lay off already? I didn't come here to be interrogated about my sex life, okay? I came here to say sorry and I said sorry, so we can just”—he gestures between them—“part ways and you can go back to hating my guts or whatever.”
Sonic pushes back from the table and stands. He gets a few steps towards the door when—
“I don't hate you…” Shadow says.
Sonic stops, looking over his shoulder. He smiles sharply. “That's really interesting, ‘cause you sure make it hard to tell that you don't.”
“I’m not—” Shadow sighs. “Rouge says I can be blunt. ‘Kind but not nice’, that's how she worded it. If I've given you the impression I hated you, that was not my intention.”
“It's fine, dude.”
Shadow looks away. “If you still wanted to go, I have no reason to stop you.”
Sonic wrings at his wrist, glancing between the door and Shadow. He walks back to the chair and sits down after a moment.
“Rouge sorta said somethin' before I came here,” he says.
Shadow's ears flick back.
“She kinda, I dunno, mentioned you don't do well with, y'know—” Sonic gestures vaguely. “But she didn't tell me what exactly, or why, really. Said I should ask you, so...”
Silence sits between them.
Sonic drums his fingers on the table, legs bouncing under his seat, the heels of his sneakers ticking off the floor as his eyes drift to the rest of the apple slices, where the flesh has started to brown at the edges. When he grabs another, he snaps it under his thumb, the sound sticking in his ears as he picks it apart and doesn't eat it.
Shadow sighs. Sonic looks up to see a scrunched look on Shadow's face, eyes farther away, somewhere else.
“There's still a number of things I don't remember clearly from my time on the ARK, and some memories are more vivid than others," Shadow says, looking up at him. “Shortly after the Professor first brought me out of stasis, there was a laboratory technician. An older human woman.” Shadow looks down, fingers tightening where they're balled into fists. “She told me what she was doing had been signed off by the Professor.” Shadow's muzzle wrinkles. “Later, I found out that wasn't the case.”
Sonic's chest tightens. “Dude, I'm so sorry. That's—”
“She called them ‘exams’.” Shadow sneers. “Pathetic. I presume she was sent back to the surface once they stripped her of her titles.”
“Wait.” Sonic holds up a hand. “Wasn't she charged with anything?”
Shadow laughs, like a dry bark of air. “You can't commit a crime against something that doesn't exist.”
Right. Top secret experiment. Space lab. Creation junk.
“Regardless, it hardly matters now,” Shadow says, face carefully blank.
“Yeah," Sonic says. “Geez, I don't even know what to say, man. I'm—I really shouldn't've—”
“It doesn't matter, hedgehog. It's in the past."
He's certainly not an expert on anything by any means, but he's pretty sure no one's supposed to say that sort of thing with the kind of hollowness Shadow just said it with.
Sonic's brow furrows. “Wait, okay, earlier you said you weren't a, y'know.” His stomach sinks. “So is that when you...?”
“I’ve had other encounters. I simply prefer my own company.”
Sonic laughs. “Nice way to say ya really like j-ing off.”
“Tch.” Shadow narrows his eyes. “You would find a way to make this vulgar.”
“What can I say? I got a talent for it.” Sonic tilts his head. “But, seriously, do you just really not at all?”
“I have no interest in it and see no point in wasting my time pursuing something I don't enjoy partaking in.”
Sonic winces. Wow. That one sure felt kinda pointed. “I enjoy it.”
“Congratulations,” Shadow says flatly.
Okay, maybe he really is just reading too much into things now.
He still can't help but backtrack to what Shadow said about his time on the ARK, though, everything about it circling the drain. Like something unseen breathing against the back of his neck, teeth bared against his nape, wet breaths panted right into his fur. He stares at the red on Shadow's arm, bouncing his line of sight up to his quills and back down again.
“I—” Sonic's shoe tacks off the ground as his leg jogs. “I, uh—”
“You what?”
Sonic shoots Shadow an annoyed look. “Geez, alright, man—I just wanted to say I get it.”
“Get what, exactly?”
“Not the, like, not sleepin' with people thing obviously, but the other thing.”
“You're not making any sense, hedgehog.”
Sonic scrubs at his face, hands jittery the whole of him on fire down to his feet. When did the room get so hot?
“What are you trying to say?” Shadow asks, eyes narrowing.
“The whole—” Sonic swipes at his quills in a self soothing motion. “Y’know—”
“No,” Shadow says flatly. “I don't know.”
“C'mon, why are you making this so difficult?”
“I’m the one making this difficult?” Shadow sneers. “You've hardly been coherent the past ten minutes.”
Sonic's hands shake, fire snapping up to his shoulders, down to his fists. “I'm trying!”
Shadow puts his hands on the table. “Trying to what?”
“I don't know—” Sonic mimics him, breathing sharp through his teeth. “But you're not exactly helping.”
“Well, do enlighten me how I can hold your hand through this as well then.”
Sonic's muzzle wrinkles. “You're a real jerk, you know that?”
“Perhaps, but at least I know what I am,” Shadow says
“What does that mean?” Sonic shoves his chair back. “What’re you tryna say here?”
“You need to calm down.”
It's like the desert all over again.
The Arabian Nights, the flame a ticking time bomb in his chest. Like grabbing the World Rings, fists shaking as everything floods in all at once, too much, stuffed full of an anger that's not even his so suddenly he can barely breath.
“No—” Sonic laughs, rocking to his feet and standing. “I'm—” He shakes his head, breath stuttering, the words pushing behind his teeth and out of him before he can stop them. “Why don’tcha just say it? Just call me a slut, alright? I get it. Sorry, I'm all used up or whatever. Gross, huh? I mean, hey, it makes sense you wouldn't want me to touch ya, maybe somethin' would rub off by accident.”
Shadow's eyes widen.
“What? Nothin' to say now?” Sonic laughs, the sound tearing out of him. “You sure had a lot to say before.”
“You should sit down.”
“Nah. I'm fine, but thanks.”
“You need to—”
“Yeah, I need to do a lot of things, don't I?” Sonic sneers. “Like stop throwin' myself at whoever looks at me long enough, or letting some guy yank on my tail cause he thinks it's hot or something. Isn't that what you said? I'm ‘gonna get myself hurt’.” He finger quotes. “Cool, fine. Maybe I'm asking for it.”
Shadow stares at him and somehow that's worse. Somehow that crawls right under his skin and itches. Burns. Hurts.
“Maybe I want them to do it. Maybe I don't. Who cares.” Sonic laughs. “What'd you call me before—a 'toy'? Yeah. Sure. That's me then.”
The quiet is loud enough it's like a smack right in the teeth. His breaths loud, heart right in his ears.
“Well?” Sonic asks, holding out his arms.
He wants nothing more than for Shadow to get up right now and hit him. For Shadow to stop looking at him like that and leave already. For Shadow to just—
“Are you done?” Shadow asks.
It's like hot air deflating from a balloon, he falls back into the chair, winded, legs numb, tail aching where it bumps against the seat. “I guess…”
Shadow stands up.
Sonic flinches back and he's not even sure why. It feels like he's got his fingers shoved in a live socket, like he's winding apart starting at every limb and he can't cinch himself closed fast enough. Shadow fills a cup with water and sits back down, sliding it over to him. He stares at it, still breathing heavily. His fingers curl around it before he can stop himself, tremoring hard enough it clicks against the table.
“Do you want to start from the beginning?” Shadow asks.
“What?”
Shadow sighs. “The Death Egg.”
“Yeah? What about it?” Sonic's heart kicks at his sternum.
“You truly are denser than I thought if you think I can't put two and two together.”
“What're you talking about, man?” Sonic laughs. “Nothin' happened up there.”
“And yet ‘you get it’?”
“I—”
“When we crossed paths after your rescue, I could still smell him on you.”
Sonic's ears ring, everything narrowing down to his hands around the glass.
“Rouge informed us you had been tortured. I assumed, at first, that it had something to do with that and merely dismissed it.”
“He didn't—”
“Everything else you've said has only painted a much clearer picture.”
Sonic shakes his head. “It wasn't—”
“You were not this promiscuous before the Death Egg. You hardly seemed interested in much at all besides your usual inanities.” Shadow ticks off two fingers and holds them up. “And now you're reckless. Blackout drunk with partners you can't even remember, injuries cropping up frequently enough it's hard to ignore. Do you even use protection, or do you not care about that either?”
Sonic's ears lay tight against his skull. “It doesn't matter, I can't even get...” He gestures miserably to his stomach.
“That doesn't mean you won't catch something.”
“Whaddya even want me to say here?”
Shadow makes a frustrated sound, kneading at his brow. “Whatever it is you need to.”
What? What does that even mean— “So, what? Maybe we had sex, okay? Who cares.”
“It's not sex if one of the parties is unable to consent," Shadow says, monotone, like he's reading it off a computer, like he's miming what someone else told him. Eyes hard and snout scrunched up like he's eaten something sour.
“Well, I said yeah, so—”
“Under duress.”
“I wasn't in duress or whatever! I just wanted to—it was just something to do. He offered and so I—” Sonic's hands shake, throat closing. “I dunno, I just didn't want to be by myself anymore, I guess. I just—”
“Breathe, hedgehog.”
Sonic takes a shaky breath. And then another. Everything feels far away. Muffled. Like he's pulled a sheet over his ears, hidden himself under it.
“Before then, had you slept with anyone?” Shadow asks.
“Nah," Sonic laughs breathlessly. "Not really.”
The table makes a groaning creak, he looks up to see Shadow’s hands clenched on the edges. Teeth bared in a silent snarl. If he looks too long at it all, it looks a lot like disgust. He can't even blame Shadow. He's seen the same look in the mirror.
“Yeah, I guess it's kinda pathetic, isn't it?” Sonic says, laughing wryly, a strange feeling creeping up behind his eyes. “Like, who swipes their v-card like that? It's so lame. It makes a pretty dumb story at parties, too. Yeah, I got locked up and slept with the guy who did it. Who even does that? Geez…”
“Sonic—”
It's the first time Shadow’s said his name during one of these back and forths and it jolts through him. It's weird. It's so weird, it's—
“Wow, honestly, I didn't even think you knew my name,” Sonic jokes, falling back onto that line like he's free-falling.
“How long did it go on for?”
“I dunno. A while. Long enough. What does it matter?” Sonic's shoulders hike up, heat shooting up his spine again and he grabs at it, because it's better than looking at Shadow’s disgust and the pity and— “Do you want all the details or somethin'? Is that what you're into?” He grins. “Here's one for ya, he liked to hold me against the bars sometimes—oh, and when he got bored he'd make me get on my knees and—”
“Stop—” Shadow holds up a hand, looking sick.
“What? Isn't this what you wanted?” Sonic barrels on, runaway train head on into runaway train. Heart crashing against his sternum. “The first time he asked me I told him no way. Like, what kinda guy just goes and asks somethin' like that outta the blue?" He scoffs and then sobers, staring at the table. His ears press down tight. “I dunno. It's all—” He laughs, gesturing at his head. “Y’know, everyone always acts like losing your virginity is some huge thing, like you'll remember it forever ‘n ever, but it just happened. It was like one second I was and then I wasn't. Big whoop.”
Shadow looks like he's punched him in the mouth. Like he's still reeling from the blow. There's something intoxicating—thrilling about it all, like throwing himself off the end of a ramp and reaching for the sun.
“It's whatever anyways. I didn't really mind it. It was way better than staring at the wall all day, countin' bolts. At least I was doin' something,” Sonic says. “It's not like it was even all bad. Guess that's why I keep doing it, like I got this itch now and I just can't scratch it.”
All he can hear in the kitchen is his own breaths. Shadow's. Like they've been trading blows. Like they've been fighting for hours.
“...sleeping with people, it scratches this ‘itch’ then?” Shadow asks after a moment.
“Sorta.” Sonic drops his chin into his arms folded on the table, huffing. “Sometimes. Sure.”
“And when it doesn't?”
“I just find somethin' else to get at it. Like running, or fighting, or giving some badniks the run around. Junk like that.” Sonic shrugs. “Sex is just super easy though. It's like—hey, you’ve done it once you've done it a thousand times. Whatever, y’know? If you're cool with letting someone put tab A into slot B they don't even care who you are, just that you're willing.”
“Are you?” Shadow asks.
“What?”
“Willing?”
“I'm not saying no, am I?” Sonic says with a too sharp grin.
Shadow grimaces.
"I mean." Sonic shrugs. “Yes or no, what does it even matter, really?”
“So if I said no and you continued to try to sleep with me—”
"No." Sonic's stomach curls with guilt. “That's totally different.”
“How is it any different?”
“You're—” Sonic gestures at Shadow. “I mean, you're you. And I'm just, y’know—”
“You’re what?”
“Me, I guess,” Sonic says.
Shadow blinks.
Sure, it feels a little cliche, just saying it like that, but what else is there to say? He made his bed a while ago, and now he's lying in it. “And honestly, I'd be kinda out of luck if I started picking ‘n choosing who I slept with.”
“So you just go along with whoever asks?”
“Sure,” Sonic says. “If they wanna ask.”
Shadow looks like he's going to throw up or something. Honestly he can't really tell what his facial expressions are doing. It's always been a little hard to read him. He can tell Shadow's stopped looking at him as much as he did before this though, he's got that much. He really can't blame Shadow for that either. He'd probably do the same.
“Look, I don't need you to, like, lecture me on this, alright?”
“Is that truly how you see yourself then? Something to be used and merely discarded when you're no longer useful?” Shadow asks.
“Yeah, I guess.” Sonic smiles, an empty thing that dies on impact. “Either way, I get what I want and they get what they want. So it all works out.”
Shadow is quiet, his eyes scanning over the table like he's picking up some kind of pieces and slotting them together.
Shadow huffs out a breath. “So, if I told you that perhaps there were times that what was done to me was ‘not bad’, as you said,” Shadow says, looking up at him. “And, maybe when I still didn't understand what was happening, I didn't mind certain parts of it, would that negate the fact that it was wrong?” Shadow narrows his eyes at him. “And, by your logic, would you consider me a ‘slut’—as you so delicately put it—for having a response to what was being done?”
“No? Dude, what? Of course not.”
“Then why do you not extend the same courtesy to yourself?”
“Cause, it's different,” Sonic says. “I dunno how to explain it, it just is.”
Shadow kneads at his brow, growling under his breath. “You’re not even listening to me.”
“I'm trying to! But you're just saying the same stuff over 'n over, man.”
“Because I'm trying to get you to understand something fundamental here!” Shadow snarls, louder than he's been this whole time.
“Understand what?"
“That you're allowed to say no.”
Sonic goes rigid, teeth clicking shut. “I know that.”
“Do you?” Shadow asks.
Sonic crosses his arms. “I literally say no all the time.”
“Interesting. All previous statements would point to the contrary.”
“I know how to say no, dude!”
Shadow shakes his head, laughing. It's a mean little thing, too, his teeth bared like some parody of a grin. “You keep saying that, but I find it hard to believe.”
“I can say it right now,” Sonic says.
“Tell me to stop then.”
Sonic's breaths pick up, eyes darting between Shadow and the door at the far end of the apartment. "What?"
Shadow pushes his chair back with a sharp grind. Metal on metal, red stuck in the corner of his vision no matter where he looks. “Say it.”
Sonic stares up at Shadow as he rounds the table and hooks a foot into his chair, wrenching it out from under the table. Shadow grabs the back of the chair, leaning in close, looming, breath hot on his muzzle. He presses against the chair back, quills flattening, chest rising and falling, faster and faster. A hand settles on his shoulder.
This isn't—
He tenses, eyes wide. It moves down to splay across his chest, heart thundering right underneath Shadow’s palm, hard enough he knows Shadow can't miss it. It slips lower. The world caves in around his ears. Numb fingers curled into the lip of the chair under him, the metal bench. He stares at a point past the grey furred shoulder, counts the rivets in the wall, the metal grooves. If he just plays along it'll be over faster anyway and then he can get some sleep after. He just needs to—
The hand settles on his hip. A sound builds in his throat, a tremor in him starting from his shoulders. Fingers trace down the line of his thigh and his teeth clench.
He—
He can't—
“Stop—” It rattles out of him and everything retreats, the heat looming over him pulling back, but he can't stop it once it's out, the words spilling out like he gutted himself. “Stop, okay. I did whatcha wanted. You—” Sonic's ears press down tight, the entirety of him trembling. “You got what you wanted. Jus'—”
“Sonic—”
Fingers brush his knee and he slams back from them, quills bristled, the chair smacking into the ground as he tumbles to the floor, shaking. The whole world tilts and his stomach churns with the motion. Red sticking everywhere he looks. Cold metal. Under his shins, all over, always. Always. He's— He's never getting out of here. He's never going to get out of here— He's—He's really going to die in here, isn't he? And he's never going to see Tails or Amy or Knuckles or—
“You need to breathe.”
No. No. Nonono. He's gotta get out of here before— He needs to get out or he'll—he’ll— He shakes his head, grabbing at his arms and curling over his legs. He can't—he has to—he needs to get out of here, but he can't— he can't—he— “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”
He tries to suck in a breath and it hurts. Everything hurts. He needs to get out. He's gotta get out of here. He has to. He has to. He— He needs to—to— “I—”
Someone kneels beside him.
Without touching him.
He has to—
He—
Cold tile under his knees is the first thing Sonic notices when he finally comes back down. The fridge humming is the second. His ears twitch towards the sound of someone getting up beside him, footsteps that go and then return. Something drapes over him and he blinks, grabbing the edges of the blanket as he uncurls. His legs tremble where they're folded under him, like he's been running way too fast for too long, pushed through mach one and far past it. His head pounds. He looks up.
Embarrassment settles hot on his shoulders, when he sees Shadow looking down at him.
“Ugh...” Sonic swipes a hand over his face. Gross. Why did he do that again? Geez. At least he didn't do something really stupid here like cry in front of Shadow, that would've been— “Sorry, man.”
“You're not the one at fault...” Shadow crouches next to him. “Are you able to stand?”
“Yeah.” Sonic pushes himself to his feet and the world wobbles before straightening out again. He pulls the blanket tight around his shoulders. “Yeah, 'm good.”
Shadow turns without another word and walks towards the hall. He follows, unsure if that's what he's supposed to do right now, but too wrung out to really care anymore. It's like someone grabbed him in their fist and kept squeezing. A towel is pressed into his hands, the blanket plucked off his shoulders as Shadow ushers him into the bathroom with a curt take a shower. He doesn't bring up the fact he already did. Earlier, when he first got to the apartment, before he mucked everything up. Shadow's right anyway. Whatever that earlier shower had done, it’s long ruined by this point.
He stares at the shower basin, the lights above the mirror too bright. There's an ache behind his eyes nestling in the longer he stands under them. Dry mouth, bad taste on the back of his teeth, he'd ask Shadow for a toothbrush, but he's already inconvenienced Shadow enough as it is.
He sits on the edge of the sink and peels off his still waterlogged sneakers, rain damp socks, his gloves and Shadow extends a hand for each one, setting it all aside, neat and bundled up under the lip of the sink cabinet. He has half a mind to recognize this as something ordinarily intimate in any other light. The other half simply wonders why his fingers sit so numb at the ends, as if he's stuck them in ice water and left them to wither. Undressed, he stares at the tiles.
Shadow turns without a word to leave.
Sonic grabs Shadow's arm, fingers still tremoring with aftershocks. “Don't tell them.”
Shadow looks down at where he's grabbed him and then back up at him. “Your business is your own. I have no intention of making it everyone else's.”
“And Rouge?”
Shadow gently pulls his hand off of him before releasing it. “Do you genuinely believe she doesn't already know?”
His ears droop. Knuckles had told him, once he'd gotten back, that she was the one that found him up there. For almost the entirety of his last month on the Death Egg, she reported back to Knuckles about his condition. She always kept his status vague, apparently. Tortured, sure, but alive. Breathing. Cause that's all that really mattered right?
“She won't bring it up if you don't. She at least has tact.” Shadow stops at the door. “Unlike you.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” Sonic says, glancing between Shadow and the shower. “Look, are you gonna leave or not?” He grins, all fake. “Or didja plan on joining me or something?”
Shadow wrenches the door shut behind him and the mirror rattles in the wake of his retreat.
Sonic laughs, sobering quickly as he stares at the tiles again, tracking over the grout lines lacing the white. Once he clambers in and starts the shower, he regrets getting in at all. The water slides under his fur like fingers. Skin crawling as he rubs his knuckles over his sternum. Heart racing again. He had hoped whatever had happened in the kitchen was over. Apparently not.
He rests his forehead against the tiles and breathes through his teeth, blunt claws catching in the grooves as he pushes at the wall, as if it'll give away under him. Disappear. He can't even tell if the sound plaguing him is the blood rushing in ears or the shower itself anymore. He—
Rouge knows something. Shadow knows too much.
And he can't just take that back. Play it off as a joke. He laughs, a strangled sound that turns into a keen. He's really messed this all up, hasn't he? It wasn't even that bad. It really wasn't. It just—He's fine, really. He's always fine. Yeah. Of course he is. That's kind of, like, his whole thing, so—
He screws his eyes shut. This wasn't supposed to happen, he's supposed to be fine—he has to be, ‘cause it wasn't even—honestly, compared to everything else, it really wasn't that bad—he wasn't—it's not like he was rap—
He breathes in sharply and water slides between his teeth as a hand grabs the back of his neck and shoves him down. Red light pulses under his knees, everywhere as the metallic floor falls away into void. Ink-black waves crash into him and drag him under.
When he looks up there's no sign of light. Nothing. Only the faint blue glow from the cuffs visible in the dark as he twists and flails, trying to kick up to the surface knowing like all the other times he'll never find it. His lungs burn. His eyes sting from the salt. He jerks as the last bit of air leaves him in a rush and sea water replaces it, sticking like swallowed glass in his lungs.
Claws dig into his scruff and pull him out with a scatter of red cubes. His knees strike metal as he hacks up bile and salt water. Shivering, soaked head to toe. Infinite grabs him by the jaw and yanks his chin up. Sonic's own gloveless fingers tremble against the grooves in the floor. The mask above him is empty, blank gray, red. Always red. The one visible eye nearly bored in its regard as it stares down at him.
He swipes at the spit on his muzzle and grins up at Infinite. Feral and with far too many teeth. “Is that all you got? Waterworks is weak, man, even for yo—”
There's a flash of red.
The floor disappears. Darkness laps him down into its belly and he stares at his hands flat against the shower floor. Panting, collapsed with his legs folded up beneath him and the water long gone cold.
Sonic fumbles for the handle and turns it off. The silence is somehow worse. His breaths somehow too loud as he slips out of the shower and sits on the bathroom mat, still shaking, water sliding down his ears and the end of his muzzle. He gropes around for the towel and drags it off the bar, scrubbing himself down in stiff motions. He scowls at it in his lap once he's finished. Red. Why did it always have to be— He tosses the towel onto the sink counter, grabs his stuff and yanks the bathroom door open.
Shadow stares at him, leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.
“What?” Sonic's fists go hot, teeth gritting. “Take a picture, it'll last longer.”
Shadow turns away without a word and opens another door in the hallway, standing aside. He blinks at the room. Militant, with the bed sheets tucked at the corners and folded back neatly, the walls bare. Clean, again. Immaculately clinical in some way he can't exactly place. He thought Shadow would at least have a poster or something up. A plant, maybe. Anything really. This is—
“You can take the bed,” Shadow says.
“Nah, I'm good with the couch, it's really not a big deal.” Sonic's chest still hurts, his head, like someone grabbed him by the shoulders and rattled him around for hours. “I slept on a metal bench thing for like half a year, I think I can handle some cushions ‘n springs.”
“Just get in.”
“Okay, okay, fine.” Sonic dumps his sneakers and gloves onto the carpet before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
He looks at Shadow and then the sheets. It's definitely big enough for two, and he'd feel bad about putting Shadow out on the couch like this. Rouge's own room is presumably off limits, not that he'd want to impose on her space here either. He should just let Shadow go and take the couch and settle for the bed. It's the most sensible solution here really.
Shadow turns away and starts to shut the door. Sonic's chest inexplicably aches. Heart tacking fast as his sliver of opportunity shrinks and shrinks.
“We could share,” Sonic blurts out. “If you want. I won't, y’know, do anything, I just…”
Shadow hesitates, eyes flicking over him. The door shuts with a soft click behind him as Shadow steps into the room and takes off his own shoes, setting them aside meticulously, like everything else he does. Flopping into the bed, Sonic pulls the sheets over himself as Shadow settles carefully into the bed on the other side.
And it's—
Super weird.
Way weirder than he thought it'd be. Like there's something missing. He hasn't exactly been in a bed without having sex with the other person first in long enough he's not even sure what he's supposed to do with himself here. He turns over and startles when Shadow’s eyes meet his.
“If you kick me, I'll shove you off,” Shadow says before turning away.
“Yeah—” Sonic laughs, thin and dried out. “Goodnight to you, too.”
He looks over Shadow's quills, his shoulders, down the spines on his back right to where the rest of him disappears under the sheets. He's so used to seeing the front of him, either throwing a fist in his face or sneering that it feels wrong. Like it's something he shouldn't be seeing. Too much trust shoved into his hands all at once and he can't quite get a hold of it now that it's there.
“Go to sleep, Sonic,” Shadow says.
For the first time in what feels like forever, when he closes his eyes he doesn't immediately see the cell there waiting for him. The presence of someone warm, breathing next to him at least a reminder he's not hundreds of miles above everything else right now. The restlessness is still there, though. Waiting. Rising the longer he stays still. He's pretty sure it can't go away. Like there's something inside of him—Dark Gaia, worse—something that got put there, slipped right under his skin and infected all of him. Everything.
And, no matter how hard he tries, he can never get it back out.
Sonic wakes up the next morning and Shadow is already gone.
It's like looking through someone else's eyes when he stares at the slight indentation left in the bed, the sheets folded back neatly on Shadow's side. His chest pinches, right under his sternum. He hadn't exactly given Shadow any incentive to stick around, so it makes sense. It's not like he fucked the guy. The times he doesn't wake up first and bolt out the door, whoever he's fallen in with will at least usually wake him up with a kiss, a hand already between his legs or something. Turn a night into a morning, maybe an afternoon if there's not a good enough opportunity to cut it off and jet.
Shadow hadn't even touched him.
And last night was obviously just some fluke. Him feeling bad about what he did and Shadow feeling the same way after everything he did. Two guilty hedgehogs and one bed. Sonic laughs, scrubbing at his face. It's like some kind of bad joke.
He slides out of the sheets and slips on his socks and sneakers, jogging the toe of one against the ground as he stretches his arms overhead. He rolls his shoulders and looks over at the nightstand. The drawer. The temptation zips right into his fingers and he pulls it open before he can think any better of it. Nothing. Just like the rest of the room, it's empty, like some kind of ghost lives here.
Sonic trudges into the kitchen while tugging on his gloves. Still no one. His chest pinches again. The part of him that hoped maybe Shadow would stick around at least until morning sits all shriveled up in his gut. It was obviously dumb to think something like that anyway. Honestly, he's pretty stupid for pretending Shadow would ever go and waste his time like that to begin with. Sonic shakes his head, swiping at his muzzle with his knuckles and grimacing. Whatever. As if he even cares that Shadow left without saying anything.
He yanks open the fridge and grabs out the half-used milk, bumping the door shut with his elbow before rummaging around in the pantry. Bingo. He snatches the cereal off the shelf—of course it's the old people stuff, too—and makes a meal of it. Or at least, he tries to. Cereal floating in lonely little islands as he stirs them around and doesn't take a bite, attention wandering to the wall, the calendar pinned to it. ‘Check in w/Omega’ is written in Rouge's handwriting on the third week, ‘Shelter’ once a week—whatever that means—‘Kitchen’, both of those in what he presumes is Shadow's handwriting based on the fact Omega is somewhere halfway across the globe doing what he does best. Killing Eggman's robots. At least there's a near endless supply of those now, considering how many factories Egghead propped up during the war. It's a little annoying to admit, but Eggman sure does work fast. Sonic frowns. Did work fast.
He squints at the calendar while trying, and failing, to chew through a bite of cereal. The more he looks at it the more it wriggles around, the feeling that he's forgetting something—but what? He’s pretty sure he didn't make any plans with anyone, definitely not ones he's thought about beforehand, and he's not exactly got anything he needs to—
Oh.
Shit.
Tails. He smacks the spoon back into the bowl and shoves it away before racing for the door. He's supposed to stop in like always, every two weeks on the dot. Both to say hey—Tails had called it their pulse check with a laugh and a shrug—but because he keeps his sharps stashed there. He can't believe it's already been two weeks. It's not like it's the complete and utter end of the world if he misses a T-shot at this point, but Tails will definitely get worried if he goes and forgets something like that entirely.
On the way out, he shuts the door behind himself a lot harder than he means to. He winces as the blue dog leaving the apartment next door looks over, startled and wide eyed. He waves a silent apology to her and zips down to the street in a flash, pushing faster, until everything blurs out into indistinguishable colors.