Chapter Text
“So….?”
Shadow grimaces, turning his head towards the grinning idiot on the other side of the pull-out couch’s mattress. There's a colorfully assorted wall of pillows constructed around him that currently separates him from the blue hedgehog. A liberal amount stuffed under his back and neck to keep him propped up semi-vertically as well.
“How's it feel?” Sonic asks, somehow smiling wider at the whole predicament.
“Numb.”
“Great. So at least the meds are workin’.”
Shadow sighs, head knocked back against the prop-up pillow. The nausea is new. The vertigo. The dizziness. The slight blurriness to his vision, almost like a distortion. His dreams and half-waking ones have been more than disorienting since he woke up at the hospital. Scopolamine patch shoved under the fur of his neck. Seventy-two hours, that's how long he has to endure it and all its effects. It's better than hurling; at least, that's what Sonic claimed during the pre-op.
“Didja wanna try to drink somethin’ yet?” Sonic asks.
His stomach still somehow turns at the thought.
“Yeah, I'll take that as a no.”
The mattress dips and the springs squeak as Sonic vacates it, the sound of rummaging follows on the table set up nearby with all the post operation supplies Sonic had said he'd probably need. It's aggravating, even still, that Shadow can't merely remove an inhibitor ring or two, take off the suppressors they added to the ones on his wrists for good measure and get this whole thing over with already. In the Surgeon's own words, the tissues that had been removed would merely grow back as normal if he healed by any other means except ‘traditionally’. The slow way means that the scars will form properly, that his body will acclimate to its new state and maintain it.
It unfortunately means he's going to be bedridden for longer than he would like to be as well.
Sonic leverages himself back up onto the mattress and drapes lazily over one of the pillow walls, bare hand held out with a small white pill in his palm. “Here ya go, this'll help some. Just hold it under your tongue ‘n it'll do the trick.”
It's more difficult than he'd like to admit, trying to reach for it. Shadow raises his arm as much as he can and still falls short by an infuriating inch. Thankfully, Sonic takes mercy on him and doesn't call too much attention to it. Instead, he sits up for a better angle and presses a thumb over Shadow's lips as a silent prompt. To make it clear this isn't something he'd ever let Sonic do regularly, he glares for good measure and then lets Sonic place the pill in his mouth for him.
It's chalky and strange tasting and begins to dissolve the moment he maneuvers it under his tongue. The queasiness at the back of his throat and in his gut starts to ease near instantly. He sighs. Sonic stays where he is, lounging on the pillows, tail flicking idly as he watches Shadow with half-lidded eyes.
“The whole vest thing is kinda a look,” Sonic says, arms crossed under his chin.
“Shut up.”
“Hey, I'm serious! I mean c'mon, you gotta admit, it's really huggin’ ya in all the right plac—”
Shadow slams his knee into the pillows and watches Sonic topple over with a satisfied smirk. There's a splutter and then a laugh and Sonic's propped back up onto his knees with a smile of his own.
“Least ya got more way energy than I had the first day. The way Tails tells it, I was out like a light. Droolin’ almost. That anaesthesia’s a real killer.”
“Tch.” Shadow huffs. “Unsurprising.’”
Sonic gives him a flat look. “Maybe they shoulda tranqued you harder. Knocked you down a few pegs. Really helped ya out with the whole terminally emo thing.”
Shadow grabs out the room-temp cold pack that he wedged between his chest and the pillow he's been using as a buffer and half-heartedly tosses it Sonic's way. “Go get another ice pack.”
“Huh? What about a thank you, man? A please?”
“You're the one who agreed to this.”
“Yeah, well—” Sonic picks up the thawed cold pack and waggles it. “Seein’ my rival all low like, how could I ever say no to somethin’ like that?”
Shadow rolls his eyes.
Sonic laughs. “Nah, but seriously I just figured Rouge didn't wanna be holed up with Mister-Scowls-a-Lot 24/7 here. And maaaaybe I also enjoy havin’ to hear ya actually ask me for help for once.”
Shadow bares his teeth, quills bristled. “As if I'd ever stoop so low.”
“Aww, dude, it's kinda cute when you try to get all mean like this. That dorky neck pillow really makes it look like you just got neutered or somethin’.” Sonic makes a show of it all, hands on his knees and voice dropped into a mocking coo. “Is Gwumpy mad I had to take him to the vet?”
Shadow kicks a pillow at Sonic despite the way the movement pulls at his chest uncomfortably. The foam sheets pre-stuffed under the binder at least help him from overdoing it too much, but the hot ache at the seams makes him wince. Watching Sonic splutter in surprise is reward enough, even as the drain lines under his arms make their presence more than known as well.
“Fine, fine, I'll getcha your stupid icepack, your majesty,” Sonic says with a mock flourish and a more than insulting bow.
Shadow narrows his eyes at him despite the warm buzz stuck in his chest. Sonic and Rouge had been there to help him get into the car after the operation. Rouge had made sure the seat belt had the pillow securely strapped to it, had checked it herself to make sure it wouldn't put too much pressure on his chest and then added another slim pillow underneath it all for good measure. Sonic had helped him try to stave off the nausea on the car ride home. The two of them provided a more than adequate distraction as they belted out shitty lyrics to even worse songs and laughed like hyenas the entire drive. He'd never admit it to either of them, of course, but it had been nice.
The hospital had been cold and sterile in comparison, and the longer he was in it the more he remembered Maria and the ARK, amongst other things that were far less than pleasant. The suppressors on his Limiters hadn't helped matters either. It was as if the world was twice as loud, twice as harsh and waking up after the operation had been more than discomforting.
For a moment it was as if he was on the ARK itself, Maria standing by the bedside and speaking to him and then in the next moment she was gone. Like she was never there. Left to unfamiliar voices and distorted faces and total strangers, his eyes had pricked involuntarily. There had been a feeling in his chest that wasn't the dull ache of new incisions, but something else. The nurse attending to him had been nice enough to say nothing and merely help him swipe off his snout and give him a lozenge for the soreness when he started to involuntarily cough from the intubation’s aftereffects.
The mattress dips again. “Here ya go.”
Shadow takes the ice pack from Sonic who has to maneuver it just so in order to meet him halfway. Laying it across his chest is easier said than done. The relief from the cold is a gradual one as well. It has to seep through the shirt that's helping hold his drains close to his torso, the compression binder, the layer of silicone-backed foam and the dressings pressed over his incisions until it finally reaches the low, swelled heat trapped under it all.
Sonic gently lays a hand over the cold pack and Shadow stiffens. “You gotta relax or you're really gonna wake up with a sore neck ‘n shoulders tomorrow and trust me, that's totally no fun.”
It's not like he can sleep like this. Not with the strange off-kilter feeling from the painkillers, the headache, the way he still feels nauseous without actually feeling like he's going to throw anything up. Shadow huffs and scowls at Sonic instead, his ears pressed back for good measure.
Sonic laughs, hand moving to splay over Shadow's wrinkled snout. “You look like an angry little cat when you do that, man, it's kinda cute—"
Shadow snarls under Sonic's palm and the sensation presses oddly at the hidden incisions on his chest. It's the same when he laughs, when he coughs or speaks a bit too loudly. Covering up the way he stiffens at the sudden twinge proves fruitless as Sonic rolls over fully onto his stomach beside him, his face drawn and pinched.
“You okay?” Sonic asks, softer than all the teasing from before.
Shadow tries not to squirm under the scrutiny, muzzle growing hot under the attention. “I'm fine.”
A hand cups the side of his face, thumb smoothing softly over his muzzle. “It's okay to say when you're not fine, y'know. ‘m not gonna hassle ya for it.”
Shadow's turns his face out of Sonic's hand.
“Hey. Seriously.” Sonic shifts on the bed, burrowing in beside Shadow without putting too much pressure on his side. More like a comfort than a nuisance. “It's okay, 'm just here to help. Whatever ya need, I'm the guy for it.”
The ceiling becomes more interesting than it's ever been. The popcorn texture of it. The fan spinning slowly overhead. Shadow can hear Sonic breathing beside him, feel him along every inch of himself, some toothed jigsaw puzzle piece to mirror his own as Sonic's knees tuck up against his leg.
When they first got home, Sonic helped him put on the compression socks the surgeon recommended. An ordeal that was mostly Sonic laughing as he tried to no avail to pull the sock up and kept losing his grip on them, and Shadow huffing out a breath that was less annoyance and more fondness at the sight of it all. Once Sonic got the first one up, he patted Shadow’s shin with a wide smile. There. Not so hard, huh?
“Thank you…”
“For what?” Sonic says, playing the coy fool as always.
Sonic's hand slips into his, fingers twined with his own. With careful movements Sonic pulls Shadow's arm against him, not far enough to stretch the incisions, not even enough to irritate the drain lines, but close all the same. He can feel where it's gently cradled along Sonic's chest as Sonic hugs it to himself in lieu of being able to grab Shadow fully like he usually would.
Sonic's heart beats slow and steady on every soft breath, murmuring alongside all the little scraps of life that compose him. It's not a crowding in or a smothering by any means, but rather a promising presence.
“Gonna kinda miss your lil’ chest fluff bein’ gone for a month, dude.”
Shadow huffs. “Of course that's all you're after here.”
Sonic laughs, a warm puff of air against his neck. “Nah, the fur’s a perk sure, but it's all the stuff underneath it I like better.”
Unfortunately, the black compression binder keeps his usual shock of white fur concealed under fabric and the large zipper that runs down the front of it. It won't be visible again for weeks, and it will be even longer before Sonic can properly rest his head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat again. Fall asleep there, curled up on top of him, their limbs piled together without end or beginning. This is as close as they will be able to get for a while.
Shadow turns his head and Sonic grins at him when their eyes meet.
“Didja need somethin’?” Sonic asks, forehead touching his. Always with the same bright, emerald openness. Quiet devotion in the chaos flecked edges of him, the way Sonic's thumb runs idly over Shadow's knuckles, dipping between each memorized valley of them.
“No,” Shadow says.
This is more than enough