Chapter Text
V.
The floral scent was heavy in the air, thick and familiar, curling around Shadow as he sat beneath the shade of a massive tree. Its violet blossoms drooped gently, occasionally catching the wind and scattering petals onto the paved walkway beneath him. He idly watched one drift onto the bench beside him before his gaze flicked to Rouge, who was sitting next to him, casually flipping through the pages of a magazine.
She wasn’t reading it. He could tell. Her fingers barely skimmed the pages, and her eyes didn’t focus on the words. He knew Rouge well enough to know when she was simply entertaining herself until he decided to speak.
Shadow exhaled, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I saw photographs,” he muttered, voice low but carrying just enough weight to catch Rouge’s attention.
She hummed, tilting her head but not looking up. “Oh? Where?”
“Maurice’s house.”
That got a reaction. Rouge’s fingers stilled against the glossy paper before she slowly turned a page. “Okay,” she said lightly. “And what was in them?”
Shadow’s frown deepened as he thought back. “A lot of Sonic,” he admitted. “Young. Before we ever met him.” He hesitated, his mind circling around the images burned into his memory. “There were others, too. A young girl—squirrel. Sally Acorn, I think. And his mother. Bernadette.”
Rouge finally turned her head, arching a brow. “Bernadette, huh?” She smirked, leaning back into the bench. “So, you’ve been digging into family history? His history?”
Shadow shook his head. “It was just there. Right in front of me.” He ran a gloved hand over his arm, brow furrowing. “She was young in the photos. Fighting against Robotnik. There was a news clipping about it. And there was another hedgehog with her… Male, but older. He had this brown tuft of hair.”
Rouge’s expression turned thoughtful. “Huh. Never heard of him.”
Shadow narrowed his eyes, his mind working over the details. “Neither have I. But he was in the wedding photo too. Sonic’s parents—Bernadette and Aleena. Maurice was there, but that hedgehog was holding Bernadette close. Like…” He hesitated. “Like he was important.”
Rouge whistled lowly, shutting her magazine entirely now. “Sounds like a mystery to me.”
Shadow shot her a dry look. “You don’t know anything?”
She shrugged, offering him a playful smirk. “Afraid not, sweetheart. I’ve never heard Sonic talk about anyone like that.”
Shadow clicked his tongue, looking away. The breeze carried more lavender petals past them, rustling the branches overhead. “…I wonder if Sonic even remembers them.”
Rouge’s expression shifted, and for a moment, she said nothing. Shadow didn’t elaborate, but he could feel the weight of his own thoughts settling in his chest. Sonic had always been so open and carefree about most things, but when it came to personal matters—his past, his family—he was oddly silent.
Rouge tapped her nails against the magazine cover. “If you’re so curious about it,” she said smoothly, “why don’t you just ask him?”
Shadow stiffened. He turned his head just enough to glare at her, though his expression was more uncertain than anything. “I doubt he wants to talk about it.”
Rouge snickered, flicking the edge of her magazine against his arm. “And you’d know this because…?”
Shadow scowled.
There was a beat of silence before Rouge outright laughed, the sound rich and full of amusement. “Oh, you are so bad at hiding it, Shadow.”
His frown deepened, heat rising uncomfortably in his chest. “What?”
Rouge leaned her cheek against her palm, grinning. “You care,” she teased. “And not just in the usual ‘brooding, overthinking’ way you do. This is different.”
Shadow scoffed, crossing his arms tightly. “You act like that’s unheard of. I care about you, for one. Isn’t that enough?”
Rouge’s grin only widened. “Is it? You got all worked up over some old photos that have nothing to do with you, and now you’re all tense just from me mentioning you go and try to–oh, gosh–seek out a conversation for once in your life.” The bat shuddered teasingly, tapping a manicured nail against her chin. “It’s almost like…”
She trailed off dramatically, waiting for him to take the bait.
Shadow should’ve ignored it. He knew better. But something about the way she was looking at him made his patience snap. “Like what?” he snapped.
Rouge smirked, triumphant. “Like you’ve got a crush.”
Shadow stared. Then, as if his body had short-circuited, he blurted out a little too quickly, “That’s ridiculous.”
Rouge blinked once, twice, and then, in the most agonizing moment of Shadow’s entire existence, she burst into laughter again.
Shadow clenched his fists, his entire face felt scalding at the ridicule. “You—what are you laughing at, damn bat?!”
Rouge waved a hand, gasping between giggles. “Oh—oh, Shadow, you should see your face!”
His scowl deepened, and he looked away, bristling. “No. You’ve got it wrong. You forget we aren’t some couple of—school kids.” Shadow muttered.
Rouge wiped at her eyes, still chuckling as she caught her breath. “Do I?” She peered at him slyly. “Because it sure seems like you’re all flustered over a certain blue hedgehog.”
Shadow exhaled sharply, forcing himself to remain calm. “That’s not—” He stopped, struggling to find the words. “That’s not what this is.”
Rouge hummed, unconvinced. “Then what is it?”
Shadow opened his mouth, then shut it. The question settled heavily between them, and he found himself unable to answer immediately.
What was it?
He had always thought of Sonic as… an equal, in many ways. A rival. A thorn in his side. A reckless fool. But also… someone he could rely on. Someone who made him feel—
Shadow’s thoughts stuttered to a stop.
A crush. Suggesting such a thing, at their grown age—ridiculous.
Rouge, ever perceptive, smirked knowingly. “It’s okay, you know,” she said, her tone softer. “To care. To feel things.”
Shadow exhaled through his nose. “I never said I didn’t.”
She gave him a pointed look. “You didn’t say you did, either.”
He was quiet for a long moment before, begrudgingly, he muttered, “…I just want to know.”
Rouge studied him for a moment before nodding. “Then go to him.”
Shadow hesitated, glancing away.
Rouge smirked. “What? Afraid to talk to him outside of saving the world or challenging him to a race?”
Shadow stiffened, irritation flaring. “Of course not. Don’t be idiotic.”
“Then do it,” Rouge said simply. “You want answers? Ask for them. Curiosity killed the cat—don’t let the lack of it kill the hedgehog.” She joked dryly.
Shadow remained silent.
After a moment, Rouge leaned back against the bench again, her smirk turning into something more knowing. “And hey,” she added, “if it is something more… that’s okay too.”
Shadow turned his head sharply, about to protest again, but Rouge just chuckled.
He gritted his teeth, but the fight was draining out of him. The only thing that annoyed him more than when he was wrong was when Rouge was right. Maybe she had a point.
Wordlessly, he stood up, his decision made.
Rouge watched him go, smiling to herself. Shadow was growing.
The open-aired house Sonic shared with Tails let the breeze of the coastal plains surrounding it roll in easily, ruffling the light decorative curtains—courtesy of Amy—and carrying in the distant sounds of the trees swaying. It was peaceful—the kind of morning Sonic liked best. No explosions, no world threatening alien cannibals, no sadistic scientist schemes. Just quiet.
Lounging lazily on the couch, he stretched his legs out over the armrest, one arm slung over his stomach as he let his eyes drift closed. His ears twitched at the occasional sound of birds chirping outside, but otherwise, he was content to just do nothing for once.
And then there was a knock at the door.
Sonic groaned dramatically, rolling onto his side and rubbing his face. “Tails, if you forgot your keys again, I swear…” he muttered, dragging himself upright. He didn’t move immediately—whoever was knocking could wait five more seconds—but after another set of knocks, he finally pushed himself up.
In a flash, he sped to the door, swinging it open without a second thought. “Alright, alright, I’m comin’, keep your—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Shadow stood on the porch. His porch.
For a second, Sonic just blinked at him. Shadow, standing there awkwardly, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his G.U.N. bomber jacket, gaze cast slightly downward like he wasn’t sure whether he should even be here.
Sonic felt something twist pleasantly in his chest—excitement, maybe? He didn’t know, but whatever it was, it was new.
Because Shadow had never sought him out before.
Sonic had always been the one to approach him, whether it was for a race, a fight, or to pull him out of his brooding solitude. But now, Shadow was here, on his doorstep, and Sonic couldn’t help the grin that slowly crept onto his face.
“Well, well,” Sonic drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Shadow shifted slightly, his expression neutral but his posture stiff. “Can I come in?”
Sonic raised a brow but stepped back, opening the door wider. “Sure thing. C’mon in, Shads.”
He half-expected Shadow to grumble at the nickname, but he only exhaled through his nose before stepping inside. Sonic watched him carefully, noting the way Shadow’s shoulders remained tense, his eyes scanning the space as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
Sonic shut the door behind him, crossing his arms loosely. “So,” he started, rocking back on his heels. “Not that I mind the visit, but what brings you all the way here? You lose a bet or somethin’?”
Sonic managed to hurt his own feelings at that comment, but quickly shrugged it off with another dumb grin.
Shadow ignored the jab, glancing toward the empty kitchen. “Is Tails here?”
Sonic quirked a brow, intrigued. Shadow asking about Tails? That was new. “Nah, he went out early. Went to see Amy for hot chocolate.”
Shadow deadpanned, tilting his head. “In the middle of summer?”
Sonic snorted, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah, but hot chocolate’s kind of a Team Sonic staple, y’know? Started way back when we spent our first Christmas with Vanilla in her cottage.” He opened the cabinet, grabbing a cup. “I take it you don’t drink it?”
Shadow gave him an unreadable look. “Caffeine is more practical.”
Sonic grinned. “Man, you’re such a soldier.”
Shadow wanted to argue that yes, he was, but settled for an exasperated eye-roll. Sonic filled his mug with tap water, taking a sip as he leaned back against the counter. He flicked his gaze back to Shadow, watching him carefully. Shadow wasn’t exactly comfortable—his hands were still in his jacket, and he stood stiffly, like he was ready to bolt if he had to.
Sonic’s curiosity spiked. “So,” he started again, lazily swirling the water in his mug, “mind tellin’ me why you’re droppin’ by so early?” He took another sip before flashing a grin. “Look, if you’re here for a race, I just woke up. Give me, like, ten minutes to wake up properly, then we can—”
“‘wanted to talk.”
Sonic blinked. Shadow’s voice was firm, cutting straight through his teasing tone, and Sonic stilled, watching him more carefully now. Talk?
He hadn’t been expecting that.
Sonic set his cup down on the counter. “Alright,” he said slowly, tilting his head. “Talk about what?”
Shadow hesitated, his crimson gaze dropping slightly. “Maurice’s house.”
Sonic’s grin faltered. He barely kept his expression neutral as the memories from two days ago came rushing back—the way Maurice had looked at him, the old photographs, the moment he had bolted before his uncle could get a word in. He had pushed it all to the back of his mind, focusing on anything but what had happened.
And now Shadow was bringing it up.
Sonic let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh. That.”
Shadow narrowed his eyes slightly. “You ran off before I could ask, but I saw the photos.” He paused. “You knew who they were, didn’t you?”
Sonic looked away. His ears flicked slightly as he tried to keep his expression easy, casual. “Look, man, it’s not a big deal—”
“It was important enough for your uncle to keep,” Shadow interrupted. “And you didn’t stay long enough to talk to him about it.”
Sonic let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well… talking’s never really been my strong suit, y’know?”
Shadow didn’t respond immediately, but Sonic could feel his eyes on him, studying him. He wasn’t sure why that made his chest feel tight.
A beat of silence passed before Sonic exhaled dramatically, trying to shake the tension. “Alright, fine,” he said, shooting Shadow a look. “You might as well take off your shoes and stay awhile.”
Shadow grumbled, shifting on his feet. “I’ll stand.”
Sonic smirked. “Suit yourself, dude.”
With that, he walked past Shadow, heading back to the living room. He was hyper-aware of the way Shadow followed him, silent but present.
Sonic flopped onto the couch, stretching his arms over the backrest before shooting Shadow a lazy grin. “Guess that means you really wanna hear about it, huh?”
Shadow crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Sonic’s grin faltered again, only slightly. He knew Shadow—if the guy wanted answers, he wasn’t gonna back down. That wasn’t a bad thing.
Sonic had spent years dodging questions like this. Even Tails never asked him directly. Maybe—just maybe—it was time he stopped running.
Sonic tapped his fingers against the couch, his expression shifting into something more thoughtful.
“Alright, Shads,” he said quietly. “Guess we’re…talking.”
Despite his earlier insistence of standing, throughout their conversation, he had somehow made it to the couch. Shadow sat stiffly on the farthest edge of it, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here—an hour? Maybe two? But what surprised him was how easy the conversation had become.
It started with hesitancy, filled with cautious words and weighted silences, but somewhere along the way, Sonic had fallen into his usual rhythm: effortlessly weaving through topics, laughing at his own jokes, biting into crackers between sentences like this was the most natural thing in the world.
From the perspective of any outsiders looking in, the bizarre scene of once-rivals-turned-friendly might’ve actually passed for normal. As if they spent every day like this.
At first, he had responded sparingly, speaking only when necessary. But the more Sonic talked, the more he realized how much space he could fill—how his presence, his voice, his energy, seemed to expand, making the room feel warm and alive. Shadow found himself responding more than he expected, making comments here and there, even joking at times.
It was strange. In an off-putting yet comfortable way.
And yet, as he sat in Sonic’s living room, something inside of him still felt foreign—like he didn’t quite belong. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in his surroundings. The house was open, breezy, the windows letting in golden sunlight that spilled across the wooden floors. It smelled like salt, wind, and something distinctly Sonic—a scent Shadow couldn’t quite describe, but one he’d come to recognize over the years.
His eyes landed on a familiar doorway.
Shadow had been here before.
Once.
Only once.
It had been pouring that night, the rain coming down in sheets as he stood on this very porch, drenched and half-annoyed at the pink hedgehog standing beside him.
“Oh, come on, Shadow! We’re already soaked—might as well dry off somewhere nice!”
Amy had laughed, shaking out her quills and spraying water everywhere to Shadow’s rather soggy dismay, before knocking on Sonic’s door. Shadow had stood rigid, his arms crossed with that signature grimace he found himself wearing like a second skin, watching with irritation as Sonic answered with a grin.
“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite storm chasers! Didn’t take ya for a fan of rain, Shads.”
Shadow had only grunted, but Amy had practically skipped inside when Sonic invited them in. She had disappeared into the house without hesitation, leaving Shadow standing there, still cold and dripping.
Sonic had glanced back at him expectantly.
“C’mon, man. You just gonna stand there?”
Shadow had hesitated. He had wanted to step inside, to accept the invitation, to shake off the rain and sit somewhere warm. But that feeling had unsettled him—Shadow the Hedgehog didn’t need warmth, didn’t need comfort, didn’t need… whatever that was.
So instead, he had simply turned away. His emerald casted a bright glow on the porch, reflecting the rain and Sonic’s eyes—and then he was gone.
Now, years later, he sat in the very same house he had once refused to enter, his damp past dripping in through the cracks of his memory.
Shadow shifted uncomfortably, realizing that if he could go back to that moment—if he could redo that night—he would have stepped inside.
He would have stayed.
Sonic’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You want somethin’ to eat?”
Shadow blinked, refocusing. Sonic had a box of plain crackers balanced on his stomach, lazily tossing one into his mouth before grinning at him. “I got more of these bad boys.”
Shadow scoffed. “Crackers?”
“Hey, don’t diss the classics,” Sonic shot back. “These guys have never let me down.”
Shadow gave him a flat look. “You should be eating something with actual nutrients.”
Sonic waved a dismissive hand. “Eh. You sound like Tails.”
“I wonder why.”
Sonic laughed, crunching on another cracker. “I am eating better, y’know. Not perfect, but I’m working on it. These are basically neutral, though—kinda like eating air.”
Shadow sighed but let it go. If Tails hadn’t already beaten proper eating habits into Sonic’s brain, then he seriously doubted anything he said would change that.
Another moment of silence passed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The conversation naturally ebbed and flowed, dipping into nonsense before circling back to something real.
Shadow spoke before he could stop himself.
“The hedgehog in the photo.”
Sonic glanced at him, momentarily puzzled. “Huh?”
“The one holding Bernadette.”
Sonic froze for half a second. Then, his expression shifted—flickering into something unreadable before settling into a frown.
Shadow knew that look. He had seen it countless times in the mirror—the face of someone who doesn’t want to remember. Or sometimes of one who wanted to, but couldn’t.
Sonic exhaled, sitting up slightly. “Jules,” he muttered. “That was—her friend. And the donor that had a hand in creating me.” Sonic ran his finger down his chest, stopping at his heart.
Shadow felt something drop in his stomach. He had suspected, but hearing it confirmed sent an uneasy weight settling into his chest. Of course.
Sonic leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “He was robotized a long time ago.” His voice was casual, almost indifferent, but Shadow could hear the way it wasn’t—the way it carried something heavier underneath.
Shadow stiffened slightly. Robotization. He knew what that meant. What it did to people.
Sonic rubbed his nose absentmindedly. “Mom was too, for a while. Maurice managed to reverse it, though. Well… for her, anyway.”
Shadow’s fingers curled against his arm. He had seen enough experiments, enough tragedies, to know that it was never as simple as “reversing” anything.
Sonic continued, his voice quieter now. “Maurice tried to ‘fix’ Jules, too… but he wasn’t fortunate enough to get the happy ending Bernadette did. His body was too far gone. He literally needed the robotic parts to function.”
Shadow swallowed thickly. Needed them. To have to rely on the same thing had incapacitated you in the first place—that kind of codependency was the kind that stung. The kind that ruined lives—permanently.
There was something deeply cruel about how the previous generation had suffered under Dr. Robotnik’s hands—about being stripped of your own body, reshaped into something else, and needing that stolen form to survive.
It was—
It was too familiar.
Shadow’s mind forced itself to images of Maria. To the way she had smiled despite the needles, despite the medications, despite the endless trial treatments that only ever served to make her weaker. He had watched her body fail her, time and time again. Watched as hope turned into something fragile, as each “cure” only pulled her closer to the inevitable.
His throat tightened reflexively. “I’m sorry I asked.”
Sonic blinked, clearly surprised. “Huh?”
Shadow looked away. “I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”
Sonic stared at him for a moment before he suddenly grinned. “Dude, it’s fine.”
Shadow frowned, thrown off by the casual response.
Sonic leaned back, arms spread over the couch. “I don’t really keep that stuff secret or anything. Just doesn’t come up much. Not a lot of people ask about my past.”
Shadow hesitated. “Are you ashamed of it?”
Sonic shook his head. “Nah. Things just… happen the way fate wills it to.”
Shadow paused, his heart giving the same strange, now familiar twist.
He swallowed. “Do you believe in fate?”
Sonic glanced at him, like he was surprised by the question. Then, his expression softened. “Yeah. I do.”
Shadow mulled over that for a moment before exhaling sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t think I have a choice when it comes to that.”
Sonic raised an eyebrow.
Shadow smirked faintly. “Fate decking you hard in the jaw a few times will dispel any doubt you had about its existence.”
Sonic burst out laughing.
A real, full-bodied laugh, tilting his head back against the couch as his shoulders shook. Shadow found himself watching, something in his chest pulling tight.
When Sonic finally recovered, he wiped at his eyes, still grinning. “Man, you’re somethin’ else.”
A comfortable silence fell between them before Sonic softened. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you stopped by.”
Shadow stilled.
Sonic smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Weird, huh? I was actually thinkin’ about you earlier.”
Shadow’s brain stalled. Thinking about him?
His face grew hot, his chest felt tight, and he suddenly wished Rouge were here so she could take all of this teasing energy off of him.
But Sonic wasn’t teasing. He was almost uncomfortably sincere.
Shadow stared at Sonic, waiting for the hedgehog to realize the words that had just left his mouth.
The way he had said it—like it was a thought that had slipped past his lips before he could catch it—left Sonic reeling, his eyes slightly widened, his ears flicking back in what could only be embarrassment.
“I—” Sonic started, then quickly shut his mouth, as if scrambling for a way to redirect the moment. Shadow didn’t say anything, only continued watching as Sonic visibly fought to keep his usual, casual demeanor.
Then, in one fluid motion, Sonic cleared his throat and threw on that easy, lopsided grin of his. “Well, hey, since you’re already here, you wanna stay for dinner?”
Shadow blinked.
Dinner?
It was such a normal thing to ask, spoken as if they did this sort of thing all the time. As if this were just a natural extension of their conversation.
His immediate thought was to decline. To set boundaries, to stop whatever was shifting between them before it became something he couldn’t control.
But then Sonic looked at him—really looked at him.
It was expectant, hopeful, but not pushy. Like he wanted Shadow to stay but was ready to act like it was no big deal if he said no.
Shadow told himself he needed to say no. But his mouth moved before his mind could catch up.
“I don’t see why I can’t.”
Sonic’s reaction was instant—his ears perked up, his brows lifting in surprise, as if he himself hadn’t actually expected to win that argument so easily.
“Depends on what Tails and Amy bring us, though.” Shadow scoffed, attempting to joke as he shifted against the couch and reached over to pluck the open package of crackers that was lazily sitting on Sonic’s chest for himself. He pulled one out and bit into it without a second thought, genuinely thinking about what he would like to eat.
However, he didn’t miss how Sonic tensed. Didn’t miss the way his quills stiffened or how his fingers twitched, like he was short-circuiting.
Shadow raised a brow. “What?”
Sonic practically jolted upright, swinging his legs over the couch and moving far too quickly for someone who was supposed to be relaxed.
“Nothin’,” Sonic blurted, standing up and stretching, his voice light and breezy in a way that was definitely forced. “Just—gonna get some water.”
And with that, he was off, disappearing into the kitchen in a rush of blue.
Shadow watched him go, crunching on the cracker in thought.
That was weird.
But then again, this whole night was weird.
Him being here was weird. Him talking to Sonic this long—longer than they probably ever had in one sitting—was weird.
The way Sonic had looked at him when he asked him to stay? The way Shadow had felt obligated to say yes? That was also weird.
Shadow exhaled through his nose and leaned back, resting his elbow against the armrest as he casually continued to snack.
It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was new. And notoriously, as Rouge liked to point out, new things put him on a strained edge.
Sonic kept his back turned toward the living room, gripping the glass as he let the cool water run from the faucet, staring at the way the clear liquid filled the cup and swirled against itself.
His stomach was doing somersaults.
It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Shadow had taken a cracker—his cracker—and Sonic had nearly lost it.
It was dumb. It was so dumb. He was acting like a little kid. And that is the last thing he wants to be acting like.
But something about the way Shadow had leaned over and taken it like it was the most natural thing in the world made Sonic feel like he had just been hit with a homing attack to the chest.
Get it together, dude.
He sighed, shaking his head before pulling out his communicator and tapping out a message to Tails.
[Yo. Make it dinner for four. We got a guest]
A pause.
Then, a response.
[I thought Knuckles couldn’t make it?]
Sonic smirked.
[Not Knuckles. Mr. Edgelord himself]
[Are you serious?]
[Yep. Try not to explode]
Tails didn’t respond, but Sonic knew that meant he was probably scrambling to tell Amy, who was definitely going to make some snarky comments when she got back.
Sonic turned his head slightly, just enough to glance over his shoulder.
Shadow was still there.
Still sitting on his couch, in his home, casually snacking on a pack of crackers like he belonged here.
Sonic’s face softened.
This was gonna be a good night.