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Chapter 37: I breathe in fire and ash

Summary:

Shadow can't escape his own mind, and the grief is starting to hit... again.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The explosive packet was pressed into his hands. Shadow's eyes met the professor's glasses. The professor nodded. Shadow turned and teleported away, appearing in a lab he only remembered in nightmares.

He'd been here- once, or maybe thousands of times- he couldn't remember. There was a hole in his head there, something that made his skin itch and his fur stand on end. One hand came up to feel the white patch on his chest, and Shadow scowled, feeling a distinct lack of blood in the soft fur. He shook it off, placed the bomb, and returned to the professor.

He placed dozens of bombs over the course of the next few minutes. The professor was waiting for him each time he returned, holding out the explosives that he was creating even as they worked. Shadow kept his questions squashed somewhere else as he worked, focusing only on the task at hand, until he returned and the professor spread open his empty hands.

"That's it," the old man said softly. "All that's left is to make sure they're all online and to detonate them."

Shadow stood there, watching him fiddle with the cobbled together patchwork controller, and the thoughts reared up their heads and crept out of the box he'd tried to shove them in.

Bombs. Weapons. They were going to blow up the ARK. Shadow's home, Maria's home-

Except this wasn't Maria's home, a tiny voice interjected; this was only temporary. Her true home was on the planet below, and she was only here to be cured. Something Shadow had failed to do. Instead he was going to destroy pieces of it to deliberately force her to leave. It's not your fault, another voice tried to say, but he squished that train of thought immediately. The professor's idea would save lives by forcing everyone to leave. Shadow had bought Maria time, and the professor had samples of Shadow's DNA stored away to work from.

Bombs. Weapons to destroy and break, but used to save lives instead of take them. Shadow couldn't keep that thought out. It came back and sat at the forefront of his mind like a splinter. Weapons used to help in a bloodless manner. To protect.

The professor looked up at him and took a breath.

"No turning back now."

 

Smoke.

The blanket tore off in shreds. Shadow fell down the stairs more than he ran, his shoes that normally would have been lighting with chaos energy distinctly missing. He barely caught himself at the bottom, chest heaving with panic and screams filling his mind. Steel walls and white coats fell away at the sight of Omega turning to face him, frying pan in one hand and a fire extinguisher in the other.

"I MADE EGGS."

Shadow's eyes flicked to the raging flame in the pan. Omega looked down at it, then back at Shadow, then back down again.

"I ATTEMPTED TO MAKE EGGS," Omega rectified.

Shadow's mouth opened. No sound came out, but he felt his quills partially deflate. His legs shook horribly, but he couldn't stand the smell of smoke any longer. He pointed at the fire and made a cutting motion with his hand, then stomped right out the door and collapsed on the front porch.

It was raining. Shadow fell over onto his side and stared at it, struggling to find the strength just to breathe. Something gently poked at his fingers, lifting his hand and placing itself underneath. Shadow's eyes flicked down and registered Edge's little face staring back at him. The chao was fully black now, the point of its head splitting apart and backwards like twin horns. Perhaps it would be an adult soon, influenced by Shadow's negative chaos energy to look evil.

Edge pushed itself closer and pressed against his chest. Shadow curled around it and buried his face next to it. The chao cooed softly and stroked his fur.

Two months. He had officially been on the planet for two months. True to form for his life, he'd only been awake and able to experience the world for half of that. Of what he did experience, pain and misery was quite a bit of it. In two months, he'd attempted to hide what he was, been drained of his chaos energy, scolded for not knowing how to experience levity, had his past blatantly thrown in his face, been reconnected with the last surviving member of what he could technically call his family and then lost said member, then used up all of his energy reservoirs and slept for a full god damn month.

Shadow couldn't really say that he was feeling anything. None of the pain was physical. His body was fine. He was, in theory, in good health, if lacking in chaos energy reserves.

But he was tired. His own mind tormented him.

He missed Maria. He missed her so much. There was a massive hole in his mind where the Biolizard touched. Somehow it had been a grounding force despite how short of a time he'd really interacted with it, and the hole it left was larger than anything he'd ever imagined could fit inside his brain. Liza had been a constant source of warmth, of something reassurring him that he was wanted.

His brain took a second to backtrack to that point. He scoffed into Edge's side, but it came out as a sob.

Pathetic. He was the Ultimate Lifeform. He was immortal, for all meanings of the word. He was unable to die, impervious to diseases, poisons and any manner of bacterium. He was an ageless being, a weapon of untold caliber and unmatched in strength and speed. (Except... the thought of Sonic and Knuckles made him pause there. Knuckles had a stunning amount of knowledge on chaos energy and a mastery Shadow had never seen before, and Sonic was a freak of nature.)

He didn't need to be... wanted. He...

Yes he did. Shadow so very much did. He could survive without it, but he so badly needed someone to want him for something that wasn't his powers. He craved someone to need him, to need Shadow the hedgehog and not Project Shadow.

And now... he had nothing. No Maria, no Gerald, no Liza. He'd lost everyone who saw him for everything that he was, science experiment, person, little brother.

Shadow curled tightly into himself. Thunder boomed somewhere above, startling him enough to squeeze Edge and yield a startled squeak from the chao. He didn't even have the heart to scold himself for jumping at something so silly. He was scared and so alone that it was beginning to sear his heart with a cold fire. He wanted someone to come and hold him, yet at the same time felt that if he were to be touched by anyone else he would punch them immediately.

The rain and his own thoughts were so loud that he completely missed the footsteps or the gentle tapping on the door behind him. Shadow jumped again as something sat down nearby, but refused to uncurl from his spot.

Rouge. Shadow forced one of his ears to unpin and flicked it. He tried very hard not to prickle when her hand rested gently on his shoulder.

"I, uh. I made Omega read a recipe book. The kitchen isn't on fire anymore. He thought 'medium heat' meant something completely different."

Rouge fidgeted with something. Her hand stayed on his shoulder, and he wasn't certain if it felt like it was burning a hole in his skin or if it was keeping the rest of the world from being cold. Could a simple touch be both at the same time?

"...When's the last time you ate?" she murmured.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't care. (He didn't remember.)

Rouge's hand pulled away, leaving a horrible chill where it had been. Shadow's eyebrows scrunched tighter together in irritation at the sensation. She messed with something nearby, leaning away from him.

"They made you a lovely house," she commented. "Of course, it's nothing compared to what I would get, but it's nice. You've got a full on garden over there, and a functional swing set behind the house. It's a little cutesy for my tastes, but it's not bad."

He didn't know what that meant. It sounded positive. He'd never really known houses, or homes. He'd just known the ARK, and for a short while, Vanilla's house. It didn't mean a thing to him other than a roof, somewhere with more doors and enclosed spaces, somewhere that he was sure would have bullet holes in it soon and something he didn't want to see destroyed.

Shadow shoved his face deeper into Edge's side. He refused to let anyone see the wetness that was dampening his face, even if the chao could feel it.

Rouge softly clicked her tongue. Shadow flinched as her fingers touched the fur on his forehead.

"Look at this," she mumbled. "You have a scar."

That.

That should not have been possible.

Shadow shifted his head up enough to stare at her- or he tried to, having to blink furiously a few times to get his eyes to clear up. Rouge had lain down next to him on her side with her head propped up on her elbow. She was currently wearing a face twisted somewhere between a frown and a smirk, though she was rapidly trying to force down the smile.

"There you are. Hello, sunshine."

Shadow scowled and pawed at his forehead. Rouge took his hand and brought his finger up to trace the red stripe down the center of his head. Without his gloves on, his sensitive fingers were able to pick up the subtle bump in no time.

There it was- a thin surgical scar. It was very old and extremely well healed. And also impossible.

Project Shadow did not scar. He was perfect. Any cut that was made healed without a trace, any kind of removed limb or tissue able to regrow so long as he had the energy. And if he didn't have the energy, he'd simply hibernate until he did. The only way to kill him would be to atomize him until there was nothing left, or so they'd said. Project Shadow did not have scar tissue.

Rouge understood this as well. He could tell from the way her lips were pursed. She'd read his files very thoroughly. This was new for both of them, and not... in a... good...

Shadow wasn't able to continue along that line of thought. Rouge had started by tracing the line with her fingers, but she was now curiously raking her fingers along his scalp from the forehead back, scratching his head with her nails until she reached just past his ears. Then she brought her hand back to the front and repeated the stroke, sending little tiny tendrils of warmth down Shadow's spine.

He stared at her, unable to stop his eyelids from slowly beginning to droop. It felt so good. The gentle scritches were also reminding him that he hadn't bathed in... a really long time, and was really gross. His quills were probably a mess. But- oh... Oh this was nice.

Rouge didn't say anything. She just kept running her fingers down his head for a good ten or fifteen minutes until he huffed, and then she stopped.

There was a quiet rumbling sound coming from somewhere. Shadow's ears flicked to try to find the source before going rigid. His eyes snapped open in horror as he realized that it was him, purring, and that Rouge had one hand partially covering her mouth with delight in her eyes. Shadow shoved Edge away from himself and curled up into a perfect sphere. Rouge laughed- not a cackle, or a taunting laugh, but something soft and real and something else that he didn't register very well.

"Aw," she chuckled, making the heat rise all the way to his ears. "C'mon, there's no shame in liking a little bit of pampering."

There is if it comes from you, he thought heatedly.

"...Ouch."

Shadow slowly uncurled and peeked out. He... hadn't meant to say that aloud. Rouge genuinely looked kind of hurt, her ears floppy and limp and a bitter smile on her lips. Edge was now sitting on her lap, peering at him worriedly.

"I guess that's fair," she said quietly. "It's the nature of being a spy, but... that hurts."

He felt his own ears pin back. There was no backpedaling from this, no way of sugarcoating the truth. Rouge was a double agent, watching over him for both G.U.N. and some unknown third party he didn't know, and she was one of the biggest threats to his direct lifestyle and the livelihoods of those around him at the moment. As far as he was concerned, she was a bigger problem to him than Eggman or Metal Sonic was.

...At the same time...

She had just tried to comfort him. She'd been strangely aware of his comfort levels and his needs, oddly willing to go out of her way to keep him out of G.U.N.'s eye and to teach him. It felt unfair to lump her into a "them" category with some unknown enemy that he had to fight against. She'd said herself that she wasn't his enemy and promised she hadn't lied to him once. And he had his suspicions- after all, promises were empty and made to be broken.

(Maria was the exception; she always was, holding him to the truth, holding him to his word and keeping her own. There were no lies between them. Ever. There were things left unsaid, things not told, but there were never any lies.)

Shadow was so angry. He was so tired. He wasn't allowed to be angry, either. Not then. Not now.

What was he supposed to say?

Rouge shifted to lay on her back and rested her hands on her chest. Her smile was gone now. Shadow watched her silently, paralyzed from the lack of direction.

"There's a saying that good spies have no attachments."

Shadow blinked.

"Attachments leave you too full of vulnerabilities," Rouge continued. "You can't do your job if you're too busy thinking about something as useless as love. It's easy to compromise someone with a lot of bonds. Pull one thread and the whole thing falls apart."

Weapons don't have feelings. They do not cry, they do not get angry. Do you understand? A weapon with emotions is a broken one.

"I'm a very good spy. I'm one of the best."

Rouge held up her hand and flicked it. A glittering orange gem materialized in her palm out of nowhere. Shadow blinked harshly at it, startled by the speed of her fingers. Where the hell did that come from?

"I've only ever wanted jewels and money. Up until you came along. This is... Ugh. It's all new territory for me too," she said disgustedly. "You see, jewels don't ask for things like shopping lists, or stupid shit like borrowing money. Jewels don't come with baggage. They sparkle and shine and they just sit there and don't talk, and they're so precious and pretty. I've never needed friends or family, just pay me in shiny shit and I'm out. But now I'm in this whole- mess- between tracking Eggman's movements and tricking him, double crossing G.U.N.'s loyalties, my boss's involvement with the ARK, and you..."

Rouge paused. Her hand dropped to her side.

"I want you to trust me. Actually trust me. Not do some loyalty ploy or as a trap, but as someone to have your back. It's weird. It's so fucking stupid of a choice. It's not logical at all. It's not good behavior for a spy."

She wouldn't look at him. Maria said once that people who were earnest were supposed to look you in the eye when they talked. Neither of them had really believed it, especially since neither of them could stare into someone's eyes for long periods of time without feeling squicky. Shadow doubted making eye contact right now would have made a difference anyway. Rouge's voice had a waver to it and her fingers were shaking. He could feel the twitches of her wings through the little vibrations in the wood of the porch.

"So... I guess it hurts," she whispered, her voice finally breaking. Rouge cleared her throat and swallowed, taking a breath before continuing. "But I understand. And you have no reason to trust me. You shouldn't, actually. It'd be a really dumb idea to trust someone whose boss you don't know in your situation. But I..."

"Edge trusts you," Shadow blurted out.

Rouge startled and looked at him with wide eyes. Shadow immediately looked away and glared at the porch.

"...And I don't know how to do housework," he grumbled.

"Spies don't do housework."

"Weapons don't own houses."

She gawked at him for a minute. Then she snorted and started to laugh. Shadow glared at her, but she rolled over and grinned at him, taking him off guard.

"We're both really bad at being what other people think we are, huh? Do you want to break some stereotypes with me, Shadow?"

It was a terrible idea.

"How do we get a charging port for Omega?"

Rouge reached over and started petting his forehead again. Shadow felt his ears slowly unpin from his head and studied the look on her face as she paused and scowled at her nails.

"I think we figure that out after we get you a bath."

Omega poked its head out of the doorway, thrusting forth a pan covered in scorch marks and two very nice piles of char inside.

"IS THIS BETTER?"

"Oh, honey," said Rouge.

Notes:

...But at the end of the day, he's not really alone, is he?

HEY GUYS GUESS WHO'S HAD THE INITIAL DRAFT OF THIS SITTING AROUND FOR TWO AND A HALF MONTHS? The original one hit harder, I think, since it had so many nuances in Rouge's body language, but I couldn't find a way to make it work as it was, so it is what it is.

Minor update on the ao3 author curse- a lot of the legal stuff is resolved! It's still not fixed, but I can at least take my time with it now. And my cat isn't limping anymore! He's back to knocking things down and purring cutely to get out of trouble, the adorable bastard!

Notes:

I'm so mean to these fuzzy lil guys

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