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“Just breathe,” Sonic tells him, like Shadow isn't currently breathing hard enough to pass out.
“You just breathe,” Shadow hisses back.
All these hotel hallways are beginning to look the same, just checkered carpet and dim gold sconces. It's a bit maddening.
The building is quiet, at least; a few hushed snatches of conversation are audible past the pounding in Shadow's ears, but other than that it's as silent as the midnight hour would imply.
The lack of onlookers is good, too. Shadow isn't exactly dying to traumatize anyone else with the image of two bloody mobians, one heavily leaning on the other from a fractured shin bone.
They hadn't avoided scaring the front desk attendant, unfortunately. Despite how humiliating this entire ordeal is, Shadow has to admit he's glad to have Sonic along, because it was all Shadow could do not to lose his entire shit when the poor person asked if they needed to call an ambulance for him (mostly because Shadow knows the answer is yes, knows he's being fucking idiotic as all hell and that Sonic is probably thinking he's insane). Having someone else there to support him and kindly insist that yes, they're fine, and do you accept cash- well, it was practically a godsend.
Also, Shadow feels about dizzy enough to pass out on this century-old carpet. Even the multitude of stains can't dissuade him- he's got enough random fluids in his fur to add a few mysterious stains of his own.
“This one,” Sonic says, stopping so suddenly that Shadow almost vomits as the bones in his right leg shift together. Bones should not make that loud of a grinding noise, he decides. Especially since part of it isn't fully inside his leg anymore.
Sonic swipes the card. The sensor beeps. Shadow faintly notices that there's blood on his gloves, brown now that it’s dried, and wonders if it's Sonic’s or his.
Probably his. There's a tinge of green to it.
“Okay, uh, just sit down for now-” Sonic guides Shadow towards the bed, wiping at his forehead gratefully once he's not carrying an entire other person’s weight. His fingers glance across one of many various gashes, smearing blood across his face.
Shadow tries not to feel guilty about the sheets. Hopefully they're not the first people to leave this much motor oil and blood on the bed. Or, wait, is that worse? Maybe being the first would be better. They'd be a funny story for someone, then.
At least there's two beds. Sonic won't have to share a bed with this mess.
(Him or the blood.)
Suddenly reminded of Sonic’s presence, Shadow pauses. Blinks hard. Sonic’s mouth is still moving, isn't it? With a tongue like lead, Shadow asks, “Sorry, what?”
Sonic looks at him with something that might be pity, but it's hard to tell past the fear. Either way, Shadow doesn't appreciate seeing it on his face. “I said, I've never treated a break this bad before. How's the pain?”
Shadow thinks about that. His brain feels like it's full of dial-up noises and his leg feels like it got hit with several hammers and then set on fire. “Compound fracture,” is what he settles on.
This does not ease the worry from Sonic’s expression even a tiny amount. “Huh?”
“Compound fracture,” Shadow repeats, pointing at the piece of his tibia that’s pushed its way through the front of his calf. Heh. It's like he has two knees now. Or, three total, obviously. This new one is just extremely bloody. “That's what it’s called when the bone pierces your skin.”
“Great,” Sonic says. “That’s great, Shadow.”
“It is,” Shadow agrees dizzily. He swallows. “You can go now.”
Sonic blinks, too surprised to be offended. “Go?”
“Go to sleep, I mean.”
Sonic is full-on staring at him now, like Shadow's just sprouted a second head or admitted that he forgot the lyrics to Bring Me To Life. “And, what, leave you to fix that by yourself?”
He gestures vaguely at Shadow's lower leg, not seeming to want to look at it directly. Which is fair. There's a sizable gash around the protruding bone and if Shadow were any less practiced at being injured, he'd probably be puking his guts out onto the crummy hotel carpet.
(As it is, it still takes Shadow some effort not to gag when he looks at it. It's stopped bleeding, but that just leaves him with the lovely view of mutilated and torn flesh, muscle gleaming through the fat.)
“Yeah.” Shadow closes his eyes, tries to figure out why the answer sounds wrong. “Yes. You should get some rest, I'll deal with this.”
Sonic raises a brow. Glances down at the exposed bone. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly are you going to, quote, ‘deal with this?’”
Shadow hesitates. In all honesty, he was planning to fall asleep and hope his body fixed itself before he woke up, and when that failed, break the damn thing again and set it correctly. He knows from experience that the pain will be easier to withstand when he's not exhausted. But for some reason, saying that plan out loud seems like an extremely bad idea.
“I…”
“I'm not just gonna fucking sleep while you're bleeding out across the room,” Sonic says, when Shadow can't come up with anything. He's not sure what's more surprising- the swearing, or the way Sonic sounds genuinely angry when he says it.
Neither of them are in line with what Shadow’s come to expect from the hedgehog. And at least one of them sends a shiver down Shadow’s spine that he doesn't think is entirely unease.
Shadow sighs. If Sonic isn't going to sleep until this is fixed, it's likely he won't let Shadow sleep, either.
Haphazard medical treatment it is.
“Alright,” Shadow says, flicks his hand at the wound. “I'll need to push the bone back under my skin. You can keep my leg steady. Unless you think you can't handle that.”
“Of course I can handle it,” Sonic says, but it's not very convincing even with the attempted bravado.
“Fine, but if you pass out on my leg hole I'll never forgive you.”
“Please don't call it that.”
Sonic moves to kneel in front of him, which Shadow can't help but feel a twinge of guilt over. Sonic got thrown around just as much as he did today- he must be sore as all hell. Hopefully Shadow can make it up to him sometime soon.
“Are you sure you don't want me to set it?”
“I need to get this in one shot, and I'm stronger than you,” Shadow says with a shake of his head, and doesn't mention that it's because he'll definitely pass out, and the idea of anyone doing a medical procedure on him while he's unconscious is worse than any pain. Even if it is just Sonic.
(And that's just sad, isn't it? Arguably the most heroic person on the planet, not to mention a trusted ally and friend, and Shadow still can't find a way to trust him. It’d be hilarious if it weren't so damn depressing.)
Luckily, it seems that Sonic doesn't know enough about the treatment to question Shadow’s word. Or maybe he's just being polite.
“Doesn't this usually require surgery?” Sonic asks instead, setting one hand on Shadow’s ankle and the other just above his knee. And Shadow-
Well, despite it all, Shadow is, unfortunately, a person. A very touch-starved person. And even though his leg is becoming increasingly numb with pain, it's abruptly impossible to focus on anything except the press of Sonic’s fingers, or the determination on his face. He really does care, doesn't he?
Shadow swallows, trying to keep his pulse from speeding up. With the amount of adrenaline in his body, this is just begging for a heart attack. “Yes, normally,” Shadow says. “Any other pointless questions?”
Sonic shakes his head, stops touching Shadow for a moment to mime locking his lips shut and throwing away the key.
Shadow takes this opportunity to scoot back a bit, giving himself room to extend his leg across the bed.
It hurts. Sitting had allowed some numbness to set in, shock soothing the ache, but apparently any type of movement just brings everything right back to the surface.
Shadow whines, unable to bite it back in time. It sounds broken. Pathetic.
But Sonic just looks at him with that mixture of fear and- and worry, Shadow realizes. It's worry, not pity. It helps his chest feel a little less tight.
“You okay?” Sonic asks, and Shadow tries his best to wave him off. He nods at his leg to divert his attention.
“I’ll live. Just hold it steady, okay?”
Calling his leg an it, as if it's a random, unattached object and not a part of him, is comforting in some odd way. Just another problem to confront, rather than a life-threatening injury that's draining away his blood.
Still, his voice shakes a little. Shadow hopes to the stars that Sonic doesn't notice.
Sonic grips his leg again. Shadow leans forward and puts both of his own hands atop the exposed bone, right hand over the left, biting his tongue to keep from gagging or gasping or any other embarrassing noise.
He gives it a tiny nudge. Sparks explode behind his eyes, but the bone seems to be moving in the right direction.
“Okay,” Shadow says, more to steady himself than anything. It doesn't work. “Okay, on three. One, two-”
He slams down. There is a horrible, horrible noise- somewhere between a crunch and the thunk of a car shifting gears- and then Shadow isn't all that aware of anything else because his blood is pounding in his ears and he's pretty sure he's crying and fuck, he can't breathe, he's going to pass out and die and-
“It’s okay, it's okay,” someone is saying, and Shadow faintly realizes that his head is pressed against something warm and firm. “I got you, you're okay…”
“Is it fixed?” Shadow gasps out between panting. The world is just a smear of colors right now anyway, so he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head into the warmth. It's blessedly dark, eases the pounding in his head.
“Yes, don't worry. You did good, okay?”
“Okay,” Shadow whispers. Tries to believe it.
It takes a minute, of Shadow harshly gulping down air and of someone else's hand carding through his quills, for him to realize that it's Sonic's chest he's currently sobbing into.
Yikes. Kind of cringe, as Rouge would say.
He needs to stop this, right this damn second. He's being weak and pathetic and Shadow would run if he could, but his legs are like jello and he's not convinced that standing wouldn't cause a re-fracture.
“Sorry. I'm fine,” Shadow manages, all broken and phlegm-y, as if this situation weren't embarrassing enough.
“I know,” Sonic replies. It sounds like don't worry. It sounds like just let me hold you.
So Shadow does.
It's comforting, and an all-around sweet gesture. Shadow doesn't remember anyone ever holding him quite this close. His memory of Maria is a haze, Omega is made of metal, and Rouge always seems too worried about scaring him.
After a while, though, Shadow feels itchy from the lack of movement and can't help but push away. He does this by putting one hand on Sonic’s chest, which doesn't do anything to diminish the awkward atmosphere.
“I got your fur wet,” Shadow mutters, using his free hand to scrub at his face. He's already a mess, but blood is a lot less shameful than teartracks.
Sonic follows his gaze, and then laughs. “It’s fine, bud. I mean-” he raises his gloves, then gestures at the rest of himself. He’s covered in dirt and grime and a lot of other stuff that's definitely not dirt or grime. “That’s the least of my problems in that department, I think. How are you feeling?”
Shadow folds both his hands in his lap. It’s hard to sit up without straining his leg, but he manages. “Fine.” Sonic nods, yawning, and sudden worry hits Shadow like a sledgehammer. “Do you have any injuries?”
Fuck, he'd been so preoccupied with his own shit- he hadn't even thought to check. Just saw the surface-level scrapes and bruises and didn't bother to look deeper.
Sonic tries to say something, probably something stupid, but Shadow's already spotted a mat of blood below his left ear, darker than the rest.
“Come here,” Shadow says, tone leaving no room for argument. “Now.”
The hedgehog sighs. “Y'know, most people would want to bandage their leg first-”
Shadow grabs his head and drags it closer, Sonic's complaints cutting off with a yelp.
It's not a terribly gruesome injury, but it is still bleeding- an impressive feat, considering that Shadow is guessing he was borderline-unconscious for at least ten minutes.
“Man, you're kind of an ass when you want to be,” Sonic says absently. He hisses when Shadow pokes at his wound.
“You know it. Could you bring me some water?”
Sonic nods, scrambling off the bed to head for the bathroom. He's back in seconds, holding a tiny plastic cup and a hand towel, which is smart. Shadow was just going to pull up the bedsheet.
“Sit,” he points at the spot next to him.
“Damn, bossy.” Sonic winks at him. “I like it.”
“Yeah, right. You've never listened to an order in your life,” Shadow mutters, but his cheeks are burning and he can't help but notice that Sonic does sit down, likely to keep Shadow from chasing him on an injured leg.
He dips the towel into the cup, then sets to work cleaning up the blood.
“Only for you, baby,” Sonic says, joking tone falling flat as Shadow presses against the cut itself. It’s jagged- a piece of jagged metal likely caught it during a spindash.
Sonic swallows. Shuts his eyes.
“Sorry,” Shadow says. He wishes he could muster up some tone, rather than his usual blankness.
Sonic smiles, though, forcing a shrug. “It's fine, I've had worse.”
This is true. That doesn't mean Shadow has any idea how to respond to it.
Instead he busies himself with the cut, white towel slowly turning red as Shadow alternates between the water and dabbing at the blood. Sonic is quiet as he works, eyelids drooping with exhaustion, which gives Shadow the rare opportunity to examine him.
He's never this still outside of sleep. Shadow’s seen him sleep a few times, but this is… different. His eyes are soft, green almost hazel in the warm hotel lights, and his ear unconsciously flicks every time Shadow touches him. It’s strange, having such an effect; even if Shadow knows it’s only instinct.
Sonic’s always had pretty fur, Shadow decides. Wind-swept and lightweight, fine strands built for high exertion rather than warmth.
“Shadow?” Sonic asks, and Shadow blinks, suddenly realizing that Sonic is meeting his gaze and oh fuck, how long has he been staring?
“Yes?”
As if determined to make Shadow’s life as hellish as possible, Sonic inquires, “Are you petting my ear?”
Shadow’s attention snaps to his hand, the one not holding the towel. He is, in fact, holding Sonic’s ear between his index finger and thumb, rubbing small circles into the thin skin.
He drops his hand immediately, feeling his fingers burn as hot as his face. “Oh my god,” he says, and Sonic starts to grin at him with that mouth full of fangs and why are his ears so damn soft, and- “I'm- so sorry. I must be getting loopy.”
Sonic laughs, but it sounds kind. “I’m messing with you, Shads. I, uh. Didn't mind it.”
Shadow pauses. He was raised by humans, but isn't there some sort of rule about mobian ears? Something Rouge said about… familiarity, maybe?
“Well, I've done what I can without bandages,” Shadow drops the towel onto the bed, and Sonic immediately flicks it onto the floor. Shadow shoots him a scathing look, but he can't exactly do anything about it and Sonic looks too tired to stand. “We should sleep.”
Sonic yawns, nearly smacking Shadow in the head as he stretches his arms up. “That sounds amazing.”
And then he flops over, clearly intending to sleep right here.
Shadow's heart skips a beat. “You… know there's another bed, right?”
Sonic cracks open one eye. “Oh, sorry. Do you want me to move?”
“No, that's fine, I just-” Shadow stops. What is his hang-up here, exactly? He doesn't mind sharing a bed with Sonic, that's not the issue, it's just the inherent pressure of having two beds. Wouldn't most people take the chance to sleep separately?
(Nevermind that Shadow doesn't want to. Nevermind that being in pain alone is one of the most isolating feelings in the world.)
Sonic's watching him now, starting to look a bit anxious. “Yeah?”
Shadow shakes his head. “Nothing. Just- hold on, I need to readjust.”
The deflection works. Sonic relaxes instantly, sitting up. “Need some help?”
“No.” Shadow drives his palms into the mattress and attempts to heave himself backwards. Pain shoots through his calf and up into his hip, his vision going white for all of two seconds. “...yes.”
The ease of which Sonic lifts him should probably be embarrassing. And it is, but Shadow's too tired to feel much beyond mild irritation. At least the hedgehog doesn't harp on it; he silently slides his arms under Shadow’s thighs and shoulders, sets him against the headboard, and releases him just as quick.
“That okay?” Sonic asks. He's already dropping his own head into the pillows.
Shadow nods. He turns, a little, until he's mirroring Sonic, their noses brushing.
“We didn't turn the light off,” Sonic says tiredly. He's unflinchingly meeting Shadow’s eyes, apparently not put-off by their lack of distance. There's still a smear of blood on his face.
“Leave it,” Shadow finds himself answering.
“Okay.”
Shadow lets his eyes fall closed. Several minutes pass, and although Sonic is silent, Shadow gets the feeling he's not actually asleep.
Without opening his eyes, Shadow asks, “Everything okay?”
He keeps his voice quiet, just in case he read Sonic's awake status wrong, but the answer comes fast. “I'm not the one with a broken leg.”
Shadow frowns. He still doesn't want to look, however, so he doesn't. “That doesn't mean you can't have a problem.”
A sigh.
Shadow doesn't press, and in fact he's starting to doze off when Sonic says, “You know how you fell off that rooftop today?”
“No, I forgot,” Shadow retorts, tired and snappy. “If only I had a broken bone to remind me.”
Fell off is a bit of a simplification. In reality, what Shadow had done boiled down to tackling an opponent off a ledge, undeterred by the four-story drop. Unfortunately, the man had gotten a lucky strike in, and by the time Shadow was conscious there wasn't enough time left to do anything but hit the ground.
“Yeah, well.” Sonic blows air out through his mouth, and a small shift indicates that he's running a hand through his quills. “I saw you fall.”
“Oh,” Shadow says in a small voice. He opens his eyes, but Sonic isn't looking at him now, busy twisting his fingers together.
“And I couldn't get there in time. It was- I couldn't stop thinking about it. Even though it was nothing like…”
Shadow chews on his lip. He's not sure what to say. He doesn't remember dying. He wouldn't know what to say, what to promise. He can't fix the past.
“Heh.” Sonic stills, glancing up at him with a wry smile. “Stupid, right?”
Shadow can't respond. So he reaches out, darting his arms around Sonic's neck and pulling him close.
Sonic stiffens. Slowly, slowly, hides his face in Shadow’s shoulder. It's far too tactile- more than what a teammate is supposed to do, anyway- but if Sonic's fine with it, then Shadow is happy to keep holding him.
“You don't have to catch me every time,” Shadow tells him. His quills smell faintly of apple shampoo.
“Yeah, but- just once would be nice.”
Shadow snickers. “Want me to jump off the balcony?”
“Chaos,” Sonic mutters, a smile in his voice. “Don't you dare.”
“I'll even wait for you to run downstairs first.”
This one earns him a slight nip to the shoulder (the only part of him Sonic can reach), and Shadow yelps but Sonic is laughing too, so it's definitely worth it.
The knot of tension Shadow was feeling has almost entirely vanished. Sonic squirms a bit, untangling one arm to wrap it around Shadow's waist. Their knees brush, but Sonic is careful not to touch his shin.
“Is- is this helping?” Shadow dares to ask.
Sonic hums, determinedly nestling closer like if he does it right Shadow’s leg will heal and today will just be a bad memory. “Yeah. Thanks, Shadow.”
“You're welcome,” Shadow says, dizzily noting that his words are starting to slide together. Sonic gives him a little squeeze, and yeah, sleeping separately is definitely overrated. Even if Shadow doesn't have the energy to question why, right now.
"I've never met someone like you before," Sonic whispers.
"Like me?"
Sonic nods. "You're strange," he says. For once in his life, Shadow doesn't take it as a an insult. "You feel so... it feels like we fit together, I guess."
The moment feels charged. Electric, like he's holding a live wire rather than a person. Shadow has the sudden insane thought that, if they were face-to-face still, he'd-
Shadow swallows. Well, he'd do something stupid, probably.
"You're strange too," Shadow says honestly. He doesn't know the last time someone worried about him falling off a building, knowing full well he'd survive the drop. Someone who can touch him without setting his heart pounding in all the wrong ways. Who made him feel like it was okay to cry longer.
He's not sure if he loves it or hates it. Not sure if he loves-
Shadow really wishes they were face-to-face, is all. He settles for tightening his grip on Sonic's shoulders, an echo of a hug.
"I try my best," Sonic sleepily mumbles, and if he notices Shadow's non-response to the latter part of his statement, he doesn't question why.
Shadow falls asleep to the feeling of Sonic breathing against his fur.