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The lid on the trash bin flies up and into the brick wall with a smack before it ricochets back down onto the top of Sonic’s head.
Which hurt.
A lot.
Probably because the person who tore open Sonic’s tranquil getaway was Shadow the hedgehog.
“Ow, dude what the heck!?” Sonic winces and grabs at the top of his skull where a comedic bump is surely forming. He steps back a little in the trash bin. “I thought we were way past attacking at first sight?”
The flash of guilt on Shadows' face disappears quickly.
Sonic’s chest fur, the little amount of it that there is, was then grabbed and yanked forward by white gloves. Red eyes glare at him with ferocity. “Where have you been!?”
Yikes.
Intelligently, Sonic lowered himself deeper into the trash bin.
He's not going to die today.
Homicide isn’t even close to his top ten ways to go.
“Answer me, hedgehog!” Shadow demands, jostling him again in a way that forces him to not descend into the comfort of the trash bin. Sonic tries to push through the grief.
“—You've been gone for a month!”
…Whaaat??
“Huh- no? I haven’t?” Sonic says. And it is the truth. Disappearing for a month may be a favorite pastime of his, but he always leaves a note, or something. And also they saw each other like two days ago. Sonic frowns. “Shads, did something hap—”
“Yes, you did!” Shadow growls, finally releasing Sonic’s chest fur in favor of gesturing angrily in his general direction. He stops to rake a hand through his quills, face scrunching up. “You vanished after eggman's attack. Where have you been?”
“I…” Sonic pauses, tilts his head to the side in thought. What was he doing in the city again..? Then snaps his fingers. “Right! I broke my communicator in the fight, I came here to see if I could get it fixed.”
Shadow does not look impressed. “And then?”
“They couldn’t,” Sonic sighs, crossing his arms and resting them on the edge of the bin. “I really was hoping Tails wouldn’t have to know, too. Y’know he made five for me when he left so I’d have replacements?”
Sonic looks back up at Shadow from where he was glancing to the side. Shadow's expression has shifted into something less pissed and more… focused since he looked away.
Which is good, because the chances of homicide have been significantly lowered.
…But it’s also concerning.
“Hey, are you oka—”
“And then what.” Shadow interrupted, grabbing the edge of the bin on both sides of Sonic. The angle Shadow’s at blocks Sonic from the evening light. Huh, it’s evening. “You’re hurt. Sleeping in the trash. How did you get here? Why?”
…He’s hurt?
“I don’t—” Sonic pauses, ears slightly drooping. He tries to think back, to replay what happened when he left for the city… He stopped at a tech shop, and then…
“…I don’t know.” Sonic realizes, unfolding his arms to stare at his grimy, scratched up fur. Dried and not-so-dried blood clings to the scrapes. He looks like he got run over a few times over. And why is he so cold? So tired?
“…Has it really been a month?” He asks, a note quieter than usual. Because this is crazy.
“Do you take me for a liar, faker?” Shadows says, but the words lack any heat. Instead they’re tight. Clipped. Concerned.
He grabs Sonic’s head and pulls it downwards. Hands rifling through his quills.
“Uhh—”
“I’m checking for a visible head injury.” Shadow states. A grimace enters his voice, hands hesitating. “Your quills are disgusting.”
“Yeah, dumpster diving tends to do that.” Sonic drolls. “But my head's fine, Shads. It’d take a lot more than a plastic lid to concuss me.”
Sonic brings a hand to knock on the side of his head with a smile that Shadow can’t see from where he’s navigating the biohazard. “—I got a thick skull! Like, literally. You should see my X-rays.”
“I mean an old head injury, Sonic.” Shadow grunts, sparing Sonic from the low-hanging-fruit response of ‘yes, you do.’
Shadow’s really serious, then.
“Because this is either the side effect of your stupidity,” Shadow continues; once again disregarding Sonic’s mental health, “—or cyber corruption.”
Or cyber corruption.
Before Sonic could start to spiral his head is released, and then promptly captured again via hand-to-cheeks contact.
“You remember that, don’t you?” Shadow asks, face once again screwed up in an emotionally constipated display of concern.
Sonic adverts his eyes to the side of the trash bin. It’s a lovely shade of swamp green.
“…Yeah, I do. I do now, I mean.” Sonic pauses, thinking. “—I was staying with you, Rouge and Omega. Because Tails was worried.”
“And because you thought it would ‘fun, it’s a new adventure’” Shadow complains with a microscopic hint of fondness, a slight softening in his eyes. “It was an excuse to make a nuisance of yourself.”
Sonic smirks. He wanted to soothe Tails' nerves, of course. But yeah he also totally wanted an excuse to get closer to team dark. And to pester Shadow. He didn’t think it was necessary. “Guilty as charged.”
Shadow lets go of Sonic’s face and steps away from the trash bin with an eye roll. “Evidently, it was the right call. Get out, we’re leaving.”
Sonic shifts his now brownish gloves on the rim of the bin and pulls himself over the side. The action reminds him that he’s very tired and cold.
“Back to the apartment?” Sonic asks, ignoring how the word ‘home’ had threatened to leave his mouth.
Shadow hmphs, meaning yes. All while he looks Sonic up and down, sizing him up with his arms now crossed.
Beautifully, all the mean things Shadow could say about him stay inside the dark hedgehog's head.
Never let it be said that Sonic isn't lucky.
“Yes. You require a shower and first aid. Will you pass out on the run back?” Shadow scrutinizes without pause.
Sonic blinks. “Nahhhh, I’ll be fine! A, uh, shower sounds really good though.” He admits. The idea of warm water makes the chill he feels slightly more bearable. And Sonic could really do without looking like shit. “We should hit the road.”
Shadow grunts in agreement, and so the two head off.
—
Sonic was not, in fact, fine. He makes it about one block before the concrete sidewalk flies up to smack the ever loving shit out of him.
…Shadow ends up carrying him the rest of the way.
—
Rouge is already sitting on the red living room couch, swiftly typing on her communicator when Shadow kicks open the door and enters. A communicator that is only used between Sonic’s friends to contact each other.
The sight immediately forces Sonic to recognize a troubling possibility:
Tails, Amy and Knuckles might know.
If they know...
They might want to come back.
That would undeniably be the worst timeline.
“Blue! Oh, sweet Gaia.” Rouge, now having stood up, breathes out. Her tone is as playful as ever, but she looks exhausted. Something unpleasantly close to guilt curls in Sonic’s gut. “You really gave us a run for our money, I hope you know.”
Sonic smiles, sheepish. “What can I say? I’m a fast runner.”
“Funny.” Rouge says with an impressive lack of humor in her voice. “Still, it's good to see you in one piece…” She looks Sonic up and down. “—more or less. I know you’re a vagabond, but a trash bin?”
Sonic winces, then tilts his head to eye Shadow.
There’s a certain connection made when one finds another unconscious in a trash bin. An implicit oath to secrecy.
An oath Shadow betrayed.
Sonic sighs, unsurprised by his friend’s callousness. “Didn’t have to go into that much detail, Shads…”
Shadow glares back. “It’s relevant. You reek.”
“I already ran a bath,” Rouge explains flippantly and then looks at Sonic. “There’s rubber gloves for you under the sink, I don’t want you drowning if you pass out in there alone.”
Sonic would argue, if that wasn’t a valid concern. Drowning is even further away from his top ten ways to go.
“Thanks, Rouge.” Sonic says, and he means it.
A soft puff of air leaves her. “Of course, big blue.”
Then she turns on her heel and strolls towards the kitchen. “Now shoo! Wash up, and you too Shadow. I don’t wanna find out if whatever diseases Sonic’s contracted are contagious.”
Despite being immune to sickness, Shadow’s face twists a bit at the idea.
—
Now Sonic is standing in the bathroom, his grimey white gloves abandoned in favor of water resistant rubber ones. They’re yellow, probably meant for washing dishes. The porcelain bathtub-shower next to him is full of warm, soapy water. The air is moist.
“You can look now.” Sonic says, and dips his lower paws into the quickly clouding water. He speaks cheerfully, the warmth is already improving his mood. “And thanks for the lift, by the way. I don’t think I said that.”
“Don’t mention it.” Shadow grunts as he turns around. He leans his back against the door like the cool guy he is. Shadow grimaces at a bit of muck on his gloves. Despite being a GUN agent and the ultimate Lifeform, he’s not a big fan of messes. “It was a last resort.”
“But you did it anyway!” Sonic chimes and rubs soapy water on his arms. It turns dark with dirt and dried blood. Sonic opts to not think about it. “That means even more.”
“Tch.” Shadow says.
…And then nothing more.
Sonic turns his head sideways and dips it in the water, soaking his quills. “Soo…,” he starts, “you guys didn’t tell the others, did you—?”
“Didn't tell-” Shadow mouths the words as if they were an alien concept. His expression darkens, hands forming fists at his side as he takes a step forward. “You imbecile, of course we told them! You’ve been missing for a month!”
So they do know, Sonic grimaces. “Well yeah, but it’s rude to interrupt your friends' self-discovery journeys.” He mutters, missing Shadow’s scowl.
“—And embarrassing!” Sonic continues dramatically. “What about my pride, Shads? They’d better not know about the trash bin—”
“Are you incapable of taking things seriously.” Shadow says.
Sonic pauses, smiles. “I—”
“You have been missing for weeks, Sonic. “ He spits the words like venom. “Weeks spent searching for you, terrified for you. Believing the worst may have happened to YOU!”
Shadow continues. “Do you have any clue how worried Rouge has been? How afraid Tails was when we told him we couldn’t find you!? Even omega was concerned! I WAS—”
Shadow stops. Bites his tongue. And then—
“And you don’t even care. Of course.”
Sonic’s heart races. “I…” he says breathlessly. His ears had swiveled backwards, eyes wide. He blinks hard. Looks to the side of the tub. Breathes.
“…Amy says I have a bad habit of this,” Sonic pushed the words out. Shakey. “Of making jokes— when I’m afraid.”
And this has been terrifying.
A month; just gone.
Sonic forces a breath. He grips his arms, hugging himself. “I’m sorry, Shadow. I didn’t mean to undermine how you feel.”
Silence.
“…I care.” Sonic says.
For a long moment, Sonic can’t bring himself to look up at Shadow, and so he doesn’t— until a weight rests on top of his head. Brushing the fur back and forth.
Petting him.
….Petting??? Him????
Sonic glances upwards to see Shadow glaring into the corner, eye ridges furrowed, posture stiff. Seems he’s struggling to talk just as much as Sonic was.
Sonic opens his mouth, lost. “…are you—?”
“I shouldn’t have yelled. You aren’t well.” Shadow interrupts, then pauses for a few moments. Still brushing the blue fur back and forth. “…I care too.
Oh, Sonic thinks. He knows deep down, Shadow cares. But hearing it out loud…?
Green eyes widen and then soften. Sonic physically cannot suppress the small smile that warms his face. Nor could he hold back his natural, earnest response: “awwww, Shads— Ow- hey!”
Shadow had flicked the top of Sonic’s head. “Don’t start.” He grunts, but a whisper of a smile that only Shadow experts could spot plays on his lips.
Sonic grins, but relents.
For the first time since he woke up, he feels warm.