Chapter Text
Boredom.
Shadow put down the remote. Rubbed his eyes. He felt his stomach growl. A newer sensation to him, one of his many symptoms. He cringed at it. It made him feel fragile. It made him feel useless.
He stared at the blank screen of his oversized flat screen tv, a device bloated with endless hours of content. Television wasn't new to Shadow, but the modern push toward streaming had taken him under like a sneaker wave. He couldn't tell how long he had been sitting still, feeling his limbs cramp and his mouth turn dry, as he watched hour after hour, sinking deep into the lives of beings that didn't exist.
He particularly enjoyed history, learning of the over 50 years of events he had missed out on while in cryo multiple times. He tried to stray away from topics he found too embarrassing to engage with, but eventually he caved, expanding into multiple genres. After all, no one who mattered was going to go through his viewing history. He now was knee deep in several different shows, including a reality tv show about skateboarding, several fictional horror shows, and a "rom-com", which Shadow had heard about before but not quite understood what it was. Until now, of course.
The rom-com was featured less in his rotation, and he didn't always finish an episode in one sitting. He sometimes found himself getting quite uncomfortable, and couldn't explain why. It never seemed to be any one specific thing. The characters would usually be doing something nonplot-oriented, which Shadow always judged as an example of unnecessary filler on the writers part. He would feel an almost suffocating tingle shoot up his spine, leaving the edges of his vision shimmering with moisture. Then he would usually panic, turn it off, and go shut himself in his room, curled up on his bed, staring into the dark with no coherent way to identify what he was feeling.
Shadow's lip twitched. He thought about which poor intelligence associate at GUN Delta would be assigned to monitor Shadow the Hedgehog's streaming data. He imagined them being weak, slow to heal when injured, couldn't even pass a physical fitness te-
Shadow's stomach growled again. He realized his hands were shaking a little. He opened his hand, stretching his fingers out before closing them back into fists. He breathed in sharply before huffing out in a grunt. His gaze moved slowly down. He grimaced when he saw the faded blue rings around his wrist. Special ring inhibitors, courtesy of GUN. Another reminder of his current state. Of how trapped he felt, Pacing in front of a screen like a caged animal.
He lurched himself up. The growls were now more frequent, dark and rumbling like heavy thunder. Okay, okay. I'll get something on the way. He thought, resentment for his stomach sitting heavy in his chest. Speaking of, Shadow had to get going.
He flipped the hood of his sweatshirt up, skillfully tucking his quills in and back. He pulled the drawstring, effectively masking his distinctive red stripes. He trudged toward the bathroom. On the counter was a contact lense case, a cluttered pile of black eyeliner and his sunglasses. He clumsily screwed open the first opening in the case and swiped a bare finger through the clear liquid floating in the cavity, catching the surface of the little disc of glass. He brought it to his eye, not even holding it open as he applied it to the delicate surface. He blinked rapidly, allowing it to float into place over his pupil and iris.
When he was finished, the second one still settling in, he chanced a nervous glance in the mirror. It always made his head swim a little. His usual blood-red gaze was now replaced with a bright hazel color. He then reached for one of the stubbier eyeliners, and got to work.
When he was done, he had no trace of red on his face. When he pulled on his long black boots at the door, he had no trace of red on his legs. And when he pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down, there was no trace of red on his arms.
All of this, of course, had been because of orders from GUN.
Shadow sat there, on the dingy carpet of his studio apartment, and found his lower lip tremble.
Stop it. You owe him, idiot. Don't get caught up in this shit again.
Shadow squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the uncomfortable friction against his contacts. He forced it down. He had business to attend to.
Shadow opened the door into the cool night. The fresh air, despite its tinge of industry and gasoline, was already drawing him away from his anger. He even felt a little lick of excitement, or anticipation. This he also pushed down, with maybe even a little more ease, and stepped out into the world.
~
Sonic was late. Typical, Shadow thought.
Shadow had been waiting near the alley they always meet at for almost 10 seconds before a dark figure rounded the corner. Sonic, also with his quills tucked into a hoodie, sauntered up to him in an almost mocking sneak.
"You're late."
Sonic pretended to check an imaginary watch, exaggerating a frown. "Well, sorry, princess. It's hard to be punctual when I gotta be all sneaky."
"Is that a reference?"
"To what?"
Shadow suddenly regretted saying anything. But he couldn't think of how to get out of this, and he knew that Sonic wasn't really trying to be mean. He let out a small sigh. "Raging Hearts."
"You watch that? For real?"
"Rouge watches it." He lied. He had tried to show Rouge a month ago and she had hated it.
"Dude. I love that show. I just rewatched it last year."
Shadow blinked, snapped out of his embarrassment. If Sonic liked it, then maybe it was okay to talk about it with him. Still, he kept his gaze trained downwards. When he spoke, it was quiet.
"I haven't finished it. I'm only on season 3."
"That's crazy! A lot of people say that it doesn't really get good until season 5." Sonic held up his hands, smiling knowingly. "No spoilers. You just gotta experience it. If you ever wanna watch it together, just let me-"
"We can't. GUN wouldn't allow it." Shadow blurted, his stomach souring. It growled again. He felt his mood degrade deeper. "Even if we could, why would I want to watch something that stupid with you?"
There was silence. Shadow stared straight ahead, feeling Sonic's presence looming next to him.
"O-kay." Sonic finally said. His voice sounded just slightly wobbly, which caused Shadow's back quills to bristle slightly. "Let's... head out then. If you're ready."
Shadow had folded his arms tightly across his chest. Then, he let them fall to his sides. "I... need to... get some food first."
"Drafty's?"
"They won't let me in anymore because I can't put my hood down."
"Gas station chili dogs it is. Follow me." Sonic’s voice had returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. It somehow made Shadow feel worse.
Shadow managed a dissatisfied hum, more mad at himself than anything else, and followed Sonic down the dark street into the night.
~
Later...
The rest of the night had gone fine. Nothing to report.
Sonic had chaos-controlled them to a remote jungle. They had gone on a run. Shadow liked when they got to that part, when they didn't have to keep failing to talk to each other. Who was he kidding? All of the failure obviously came from Shadow. If only everyone knew how stupid the Ultimate Lifeform really was. They would never take him seriously again. Not that they did now, with how weak and pathetic he was. Sonic even had to pace himself, since Shadow coudn't run as far or as fast these days, epecially without his air shoes.
Shadow found himself spiral particularly hard emotionally during the race, enough that Sonic was opening glancing at him worriedly after he chaos-controlled them back to Shadow's neighborhood.
They got to the drop off spot. Shadow kept walking, singularly focused on getting home.
"Hey, Shadow? Wait a second."
Shadow stopped briefly. He hunched his shoulders in defiance, then kept walking. "Go home, Sonic."
~
Sonic watched Shadow walk away stiffly, then round the corner, disappearing into the night.
He tilted his head back, breathing in the night air through his nose, and let out a long, wheezing sigh. The tension he had been carrying melted away. He pulled out his phone and dialed as he began to leisurely walk in the opposite direction.
It only rang twice before it got answered.
"Sonic?" Rouge's voice sounded expectant.
"Heya, just finished up with the Ol' Grump."
"Was he nasty?"
Sonic thought about it. "Nothing I couldn't handle. I think he actually enjoyed himself. Or at least, he got something out of it."
"That's all we can hope for. I'll check in with him tomorrow." There was a pause. "Thanks, Sonic. GUN is still being weirdly cagey about approving activities for him to do. It's bad enough that he's trapped in that tiny apartment."
"All good," Sonic reassured. "I've been talking to a lot of people, and they're all willing to pitch in. Whatever y'all need. We all want to make him feel like he's not alone in this."
"You really are a golden boy, hedgehog." There was a definite smile in her voice. "I'll keep you in the loop. A lot of things are just hanging on GUN getting their act together."
"As always," Sonic said in a slightly sing-song tone.
Rouge laughed. It sounded slightly strained. "Talk to you soon, Sonic."
"See ya."
The call ended, and Sonic slipped his phone away. He stopped in his tracks, gazing up at the half moon, partially obscured by clouds. He thought about Shadow the hedgehog, the all-powerful Ultimate Lifeform, spending most of his time cooped up in an apartment, unable to fight or run or even be with others when he needed it. Sonic shivered. Definitely one of his own top fears. He allowed the mild hurt he had felt at Shadow's callousness through the evening dissolve into sympathy.
"See ya next week, Shadow." He muttered to himself, before taking off into the night at breakneck speed.