#i'll post the link once i finally post it on ao3

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 18: Hackneyed

thancred attempts to confess his feelings. it does not go as planned. thancred x wol, pre-relationship. asexual wol. set during arr. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: general 1868 words ao3 link

There is a plan in mind, he’s not ashamed of that.

He has thought about it for weeks. Months, if he’s honest. Pulling and tugging on the threads of what if and when, imagined scenarios chasing themselves around his mind in varying shades of… well. Romantic, he would call it. He has never fully thought of himself as a romantic in earnest before, though some of his past lovers would have called him such. But there is a certain panache to the word, a sense, an atmosphere, that he finds compelling. Especially where Aureia is concerned.

It still surprises him that he is falling for her, his friend. Perhaps the closest friend he has ever allowed himself to have. She has witnessed him at his worst and at his best—the small triumphs, the overwhelming losses, pain and grief and joy. He has made a complete fool of himself in front of her more than once, sometimes in small trivial ways, other times less so. The time he spouted improvised poetry at a dancer in the Quicksand. How hard he tried to impress Yugiri Mistwalker when the shinobi joined their cause.

His butchering of the situation with Ifrit. His possession by an Ascian. Other moments he would rather not say.

He did not want to admit it at first. It would be easier for both of them if he did not feel the way he did. He knows better than anyone that romantic entanglements are best kept at arm’s length, far away from the goings on of the Scions. They are a weak spot. An exploit. A risk. He kept his distance from her after the Praetorium for this very reason, resisting the ache growing in his heart with every passing day by falling back on hold habits. Drinking more in the hopes of ignoring it. Distracting himself with a rather impressive list of paramours.

He has a sneaking suspicion Urianger has taken note and this will come back to bite him in the arse.

It took Moenbryda walloping him over the head—metaphorically, of course—with a disarming comment to make him realize how foolish he was being.

“You know what your problem is, Thancred? You’re too busy looking ten feet ahead for one problem or another to notice the blessing that is right in front of you.”

He never thanked her for that. It’s too late now.

Perhaps that’s why he has come to his decision. Moenbryda’s death sits heavy in their hearts, forcing them all to stare the fleetingness of life in the face. She seized hers with joy and fearlessness, hanging on to nothing. It’s time he did the same.

And so he has to do it right.

Aureia lets out a whoop as she springs up the rest of the stairs, racing him to the top. She reaches the battlements first, face flushed, hair a mess, ruby eyes sparkling, and spins around to face him as he follows suit. “Look at that,” she says, raising her hands in triumph. “I win.”

He chuckles, panting lightly, and sweeps his hair out of his eyes. “Was it a race?” he replies, leaning casually against the battlements. “I hadn’t noticed.”

She rolls her eyes and continues down the path, trailing her fingers across the coarse stonework. Mor Dhona stretches out before them, bright as the stars above. Lanterns float through the square, warming the aetheryte’s cool brilliance with their golden glow, illuminating the flowing crowds below. Further up the hill, the market bustles with activity, late night vendors selling trinkets and baubles, and people stumbling from Rowena’s café with drinks in hand. Adventurers loiter on the steps to the Seventh Heaven, carousing loudly. A group of dancers giggle with glee, moving merrily in rhythm to a drum as a trio of bards fill the plaza with their music.

All in all, it is a good night for festivities. Bright, clear, and only a hint of gloam.

Aureia hums to herself, folding her arms and leaning out over the parapet. She may be quiet in a crowd and shy away from the centre of attention, but she loves being around people. Immersing herself in the rhythms of a city, captivated by the pulse of life and the vibrancy of it all. It’s one of the things he finds endlessly fascinating about her, this paradox of extroversion and introversion.

“I wonder where Gerolt went,” she says after a moment, squinting as she scans the plaza. Her hair trails in the breeze and falls about her face. She pushes it back idly, twisting it around her finger, and knots it at the top of her head. Shorter pieces fall away, brushing across the nape of her neck. “He all but paled and ran for the hills when he saw Rowena earlier.”

“Perhaps he did run for the literal hills. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And here I thought you had no thoughts on the illustrious lady of the House of Splendours.”

He chokes. “No,” he says, a little strangled. “I don’t. Did you have to put it quite like that?”

“What? House of Splendours or illustrious lady?” She glances at him and grins. “If it’s the former, take it up with Rowena, she’s the one who named it.”

He catches her eye, regarding her in silence. His gaze lingers on her face, her hair, the way the silver studs in her upper ear catch the lanternlight. She hasn’t changed much since he met her. There is perhaps a touch of severity around her jaw and creases in the corners of her eyes, but she is still as vibrant as the spells she once cast. It seems so long ago that she stumbled into his life, and yet he has known many others for longer.

Much can happen over the course of two years.

“What?” Aureia says, eyes wide.

He says nothing, smiling quietly. If he could tell her now that she is beautiful, he would. He can’t remember when he first had that thought. Perhaps he’s always thought it.

Music wafts over them, slow and gentle.

Thancred pushes off the wall and gives her a mock little bow, extending his hand. “Would you have this dance, milady?” he says.

She pauses, a little laugh humming on her lips. “What are you doing?”

“Inviting you to dance.”

“Interesting.” She takes a step towards him, her chin raised archly. “You know I don’t dance.”

He straightens and steps into her. “I think you will tonight.”

“Do you remember what happened the last time you asked me to dance?”

“I’ve never asked you to.” His hand brushes his arm. She doesn’t move away. “I seem to remember that the dance I supposedly asked you to join me in was a sparring match where you routing me so thoroughly I don’t think my ego has recovered.”

She gazes at him, her eyes alight with joy. “Your poor ego.”

“Terribly bruised, you see.”

“If that’s so, why risk it again? I’ll only thrash you a second time.”

He chuckles and leans in, his lips a hair’s breath from her ear. “Because I am not asking you to spar, Aureia darling,” he says. The word slips out unexpectedly. He has never called her darling before. Too soon? Too late? He doesn’t care. Even a small deviation cannot ruin this night. “Dance with me.”

She hesitates, frozen for the briefest of moments. In the space between breaths, he wonders if she will pull away—it’s a delicate thing, this line they walk, and she has as much to lose as he does. But sometimes the risk is worth it. He can only hope she can see it, too.

Aureia slips her hand into his. “Fine,” she says at last. “One dance.”

“Only one?”

“Just one.”

He sweeps her into his arms and they dance.

The music washes over them and they move as one, fumbling their steps and knocking against each other. At last they find a compromise, gently swaying together as they turn on the spot, his hand on her waist, her head against his shoulder. Together they watch the plaza below, sparkling with light and life.

How is it that the simplest things are always the most difficult to say?

“Aur?” he murmurs.

She raises her head. “Yes?”

Her hair has untwisted from its knot, now falling loosely about her shoulders. Twelve above, she is gorgeous. If he is about to admit what he wants to—what he needs to—then there is no better time to do so than now.

Thancred presses a hand to her cheek and leans in close.

She inhales sharply and turns her head.

He pauses. “I…”

Aureia lets go of his hands and pulls away, staring determinedly at the plaza below, her jaw clenched. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Thancred, but I think you have a very, very wrong idea about me,” she says.

He frowns, too taken aback to feel the hurt he knows will come later. “I—Aureia. Are you… upset?”

“Hells, yes!” She rounds on him, red eyes blazing. “I am mad at you. I am so very, very mad at you—”

“I thought—”

“You thought what? You’ve barely spoken to me since Moenbryda’s death. I thought this was going to be a time for us to talk, not…” She makes a face. “You are trying to seduce me, aren’t you.”

He sighs, passing a hand across his face. “Assuredly not, no.”

“Then what is this? Bringing me up here on a pretty night, asking me to dance, staging this scene like some hackneyed plot you pulled out of a bard’s—ugh.” She rolls her eyes and storms across the battlements. “I’m not interested in all this. I thought you would have at least caught on to that by now.”

He follows her, keeping a careful distance as they tromp down the stairs. “On to what? My apologies, but I do not follow—”

“You’re going to make me come out and say it, aren’t you?” She hits the bottom landing and turns around, arms folded protectively across her chest. “I don’t… want that. Any of that. I never have. I never will.”

“Any of what?” To his surprise, the sting of rejection has not come yet. Perhaps because he doesn’t quite understand what she is rejecting him from. “Aureia, if I have done something so terribly offensive to you, please tell me. I will listen.”

“You’re not the first to have told me that, and yet I’ve yet to meet someone who understands.” She gives him a flat look, her mouth twisting as if she is trying to hold back tears. He has never seen her quite so furious yet vulnerable. “Tell me honestly, would you be happy being with me if I said I never wanted to sleep with you?”

He blinks. Of all the questions she could have asked, this is one he has never thought of.

She spreads her hands and drops them to her sides, as if his silence has proved a point he didn’t know he was making. “And there’s your answer,” she says and vanishes into the night.

[ceramicbeetle]

"No, I think he's just coming down with something," Brian continues, and Alex could almost laugh at its half-truth. Come down with the plague of something haunting and hungry and watching. Come down with the holy rotting wounds of age old saints. Sure, that works.

In which Alex Kralie joins the ranks of stigmatics and gains a firsthand understanding of what The Destructors meant when it claimed "destruction is a form of creation".

--

Word Count: 41,952

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Untitled Doey X Reader Ch 1

Update: Now on ao3, updates will be posted there (and linked via tumblr) -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/63346465/chapters/162287860

So uh. Decided to do this. I'll put it up on ao3 eventually (with slightly more editing maybe), probably sometime after I get chapter 2 written. And after I figure out a title.

Summary: After the destruction of the Playtime Co factory, Doey finds what little remains of himself falling through the cave systems and into a river, where he's brought practically to your door.

----

Doey had been so sure he’d been killed.

He’s died three times after all. It’s a familiar feeling.

Darkness. Numbness. A chilling cold that reaches through his body and wraps around his very consciousness, pulling him down…down…down……

Surely this time he won’t be pulled back. Who’s left to even try? The Doctor’s dead, Doey’s family at Safe Haven are all dead…whatever few remain alive in the factory’s underbelly are probably close behind, if Poppy has anything to say about it.

Doey’s not sure how much time passes between that thought and the explosion. A minute? An hour? A week? A year?

He’s not formed enough to see, nor to hear. But he feels the depths of the factory, of the very caves themselves, shudder and then quake as a fierce explosion rips through the labs. Fire and smoke rush through the lab, then the prison, then Playcare, and finally the factory proper, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

Not everything is burned. Much of the lower levels are made of steel and rock, after all. The heat that does pass over the puddle of dough that had once been Doey is intense, and would probably leave humans and plush toys singed, but it only serves to dry Doey out ever so slightly. Not enough to make much difference though. He’s still too weak and liquified to pull himself together, assuming he could even care to try such a thing.

Silence settles over the factory and the caverns below. Once again Doey is not sure how much time passes before the peace, if it can be called that, is broken.

Something, some support or load bearing wall, finally gives way somewhere in depths, starting a chain reaction, and the whole wretched place begins collapsing in on itself, just as Poppy had wanted. What the fire had spared the collapse does not, and the floor below Doey slants, causing him to slide along it as gravity takes hold.

He doesn’t even try to stop himself from spilling down through the caverns, the bits of dough that still contain hints of who he used to be rolling and tumbling down the crevices. Even the unpleasant sensation of sliding into a frigid underground river can’t motivate him to try and re-form his body.

Doey fades in and out of consciousness, each time wondering if he’s fading in and out of existence. The water eventually warms, and Doey’s aware of occasional glimpses of light as the river carries him out of the underground.

After awhile, the rushing river fades into a shallow, trickling creek. Doey’s dough bumps numbly along the smooth pebbles of the creek bed for a time until getting caught on a fallen log.

He can almost muster the strength to be surprised that he’s made it out of the factory. Almost. But he can’t imagine he’s meant to survive much longer.

So he waits. Waits to sink just a little bit further into the cold, to sink far enough that he won’t be pulled back ever again.

Time continues to pass. Several days, maybe even several weeks. He still can’t bring himself to stay conscious long enough to mark time, but it goes from dark to light and back again more times than he can count.

He lets the days pass, feeling the creek wash over him. He begins to hear again, just a bit. It’s muted from where he is beneath the water, but he can still make out some noises. So he contents himself with listening to the babbling of the creek, the chirping of birds, and the wind through the leaves. He thinks he’s in some kind of forest. How far from the factory he is, how far away from anything he is, he can only guess.

Maybe this is what death is. A drifting, vague awareness…barely aware of his own body, his own senses, but just feeling the world pass by around him.

It’s not terrible. Certainly not the worst thing he’s been through.

Doey has just enough time to adjust to his new existence when he hears something he hasn’t heard in a long, long time.

Voices.

*

Hiking through nature is always the first thing people seem to want to recommend to you when they sense you’re dealing with some kind of struggle. Especially those who realize you live on a few acres of mostly forested land.

To be fair, they aren’t entirely wrong…though admittedly you do find it a bit tedious to be recommended the same thing over and over when it’s already been a habit of yours for a few years.

Especially when you hadn’t asked.

But what are you to do when your main source of stress actively--physically--follows you on said hikes?

Ethan Barlowe, who owns the acreage just to the west of yours. You’re not sure how long he’s owned it, but it’s at least a few years more than your family’s owned your plot of land.

He’s roughly middle-aged, a bit older than your parents would have been, you think. He’s taller than you and decently fit, usually wearing some combination of flannel and denim. His face has the slightly weathered look of one who’s spent most of their life outdoors.

“They can even divide up the plot so you can keep your house right where it is,” he’s saying. “You don’t even have to move!”

A sales pitch you’ve heard dozens of times before…and it’s no more compelling today than it had been six months ago.

“Ethan, I said no,” you say for what feels like the millionth time. 

“Oh come on! It’s not good for a kid your age to be living alone, without even any neighbors,” he protests.

You give him a deadpan look. Do you point out that, at twenty-four, you’re not exactly a “kid” anymore? Or tell him he’s currently doing a terrible job of selling you on the idea of neighbors in general?

“Look, I’m sure your dad would have rather the house itself stayed with you, even if the land doesn’t.”

That’s a new one.

You stop so abruptly he almost crashes into you. “I think I knew him better than you, Ethan,” you say tightly.

“In some ways, but--”

“In every way!” you shout, actually causing his eyes to widen for a brief second as he takes a step back.

It’s that shout that attracts Doey’s attention. He’s so used to intervening in fights in the Playcare as Matthew, then in Safe Haven as Doey, that it doesn’t even occur to him to do differently now. He immediately begins re-forming his body, listening closely to the conversation as he does.

You suck in a shaky breath. “Get off my property. Don’t ever come here again,” you say coldly.

Ethan stares at you in stunned silence for a moment before scoffing and shaking his head. “You can’t do that. Your dad and I had an agreement about the pond--”

“Yeah, and that’s done,” you say tersely. “Now leave, or I’ll be calling the cops.”

Ethan scoffs. “Right, because you have such a great track record with them,” he sneers.

Doey’s body reforms, and he realizes with a surge of dread that there’s not nearly as much left of him as he’d been assuming.

He’s barely six inches tall!

He’s not sure what he’s going to do now…although, in retrospect, he’s also not sure what he would have done before. You and Ethan would have been too shocked by the nine-hundred pound dough creature for Doey to have done anything in the way of mediating or intervention.

…Though it definitely would have ended the argument.

You and Ethan are a few feet away, on some kind of dirt path. The type that seems to be formed from repeated hikes rather than a deliberate attempt at making a pathway. The path runs alongside the creek, and Doey currently stands hidden in some tall grass and reeds that grow at the edges of the water.

The surrounding area is dominated by the rusty browns of late autumn, the yellows and oranges have faded away as the leaves begin to fall.

Doey’d been down in the factory for so long he’d nearly forgotten that seasons even exist.

“Th-That doesn’t matter!” you protest, though the uncertainty in your tone is clear.

“Doesn’t it? You really think they’ll believe some hooligan kid over me? I got a clean slate, kid,” Ethan smirks, stepping towards you.

Your eyes widen at his menacing tone, and now it’s your turn to step back.

Doey can’t help but glower at the implied threat. He generally tries to not pick sides, but if he were to pick a side, it certainly wouldn’t be Ethan’s.

Ethan grabs your wrist, pulling you towards himself as he glares down at you, and you’re suddenly very aware that you’re out in the woods alone. The only nearby houses are yours and Ethan’s, and you left your cellphone at home.

It’s all Doey can do to keep silent as he tries to come up with a plan. If he were his proper size, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself rushing forward and putting himself between you and Ethan.

“Now listen, kid. There’s no way you’re making enough to keep this place. You think you’re fine to coast along on that little nest egg your dad left, but it’ll be gone before you know it. Trust me. I know how the world works. I’m doing you a favor.”

“L-Let go…” you finally manage to utter a meek protest.

Ethan’s gaze hardens, his grip only tightening when you try to pull away.

Doey’s eyes narrow as he resists the urge to let a low, angry growl at how this man’s treating you. If he thought running at the man only to be effortlessly kicked back into the creek would somehow help you, he’d certainly do it, but…he’s not convinced such a gesture would help.

In a split second, the solution comes to him. Well, a solution, anyway.

He steps back into the tall grass, hiding himself.

“Hey, what was that?” he calls out. He pitches his voice up slightly, hoping it sounds convincing as a second person, and answers, “Dunno, sounded like yelling?”

Ethan blanches and quickly drops your hand, taking a few hasty steps back.

Doey grins. The plan’s working! Switching back to his normal voice, he calls out, “Hey, everyone okay over there?”

“Perfectly fine!” Ethan quickly calls out. He clears his throat awkwardly, his eyes darting to you. His brow lowers in a warning glare. “Think about it, kid,” he says quietly.

With that, he turns on his heel and leaves, heading down the dirt path while you stare after him.

Doey pumps his fist in a silent cheer. That went perfectly! Better than he thought it would, in fact. He’d been hoping Ethan would simply cool it with the intimidation if he’d thought there could be witnesses. Him leaving entirely had been but a distant hope.

Once Ethan rounds the corner and disappears from view among the trees, your gaze snaps towards the voices. They’d sounded close…so close you’re surprised you don’t see any sign of the ones who’d spoken.

“Hello?” you call out, walking towards the creek.

Doey’s smile vanishes and he tenses. He hadn’t considered the possibility that you or Ethan would try to find the source of the voices.

“Who’s there?” you call. You walk forward, the edge of the shallow creek lapping at your boots as you stand only inches from Doey’s hiding spot. “N-Not that it’s…a big deal, but…whoever you are, you…you do know this is private property?” you call out timidly, only to wince at how meek you sound. You’re not exactly feeling confident about protecting your land from intruders at the moment…

Doey flinches. Shoot. Maybe tricking you into thinking there were two more people wandering your property without your knowledge or permission hadn’t been the greatest idea.

“Um, we um, won’t be staying long!” he calls out hastily.

You frown. Why did they sound so much more nervous now? Are they up to something? Or just fretting over their (presumably accidental) trespassing?

And why did their voice sound so close…and so low to the ground? Sound can carry oddly in the forest sometimes, but usually people sound further than they are, not closer…

“You’re not…lost or something, are you…?” you ask.

Something about the simple question tugs at his heart--or whatever mass of clay in his chest serves as such.

Because, he realizes, he is lost. In every sense of the word. More than he’s ever been in his entire life.

He lifts his gaze to you, watching as you continue to glance around for the source of the voice, your brow knit in worry. Worry for yourself, at the prospect of unknown strangers wandering around on your property? Or worry for said strangers, lost in the woods?

Doey could show himself and ease both worries, but that might just cause a whole new set of problems. Not for Doey, of course…unless you have some freezing gas on you, it isn’t as if you can really hurt him. So whatever your reaction, he’ll be no worse off than he already is.

He doesn’t want to frighten you…Many children in the factory, and even adults sometimes, had been frightened of him, especially at first glance. While his height is about average as far as Bigger Bodies go, he’s one of the more stoutly build ones, and his lack of fluff and fur make him a bit less approachable than many of the other Bigger Bodies.

There’s a reason Doey the Doughman was usually portrayed as tiny in the commercials.

…Actually, that’s about the height he is now. So maybe the sight of him won’t be that startling to you after all.

“H-Hello?” you call out, pulling Doey from his thoughts as he realizes he’s been silent for several moments.

“Yeah! I-I’m here!” he says quickly.

“Where?” you ask, still glancing around, clearly looking for someone closer to your own height.

Well. Time to see if he’s going to be punted into the creek. “D-Down here.”

You glance down, seeing the tall grass part. A small blue figure peeks out. You don’t for a minute assume this little thing is the owner of the deep, resonant voice you’d been hearing. You don’t think the figure itself has any sort of voice…it just looks like a little toy made of colored dough. It looks familiar, but you can’t quite place it.

You crouch down for a closer look and Doey scoots back nervously. He’s…really not used to being towered over like this. But he forces a small, awkward smile, lifting a hand in the wave. “H-Hiya!”

You hadn’t expected the figure to move so fluidly. Even his face and eyes change shape as he speaks, and there’s a slight wobble to his round belly and big arms as he moves that a mere remote-controlled toy wouldn’t have.

He’s REAL.

The abrupt realization causes you to squeak in surprise, stumbling back. Your boot catches on a rock and you fall sideways into the creek. As you try to catch yourself, your hand hits the pebbly creek bed, causing a bolt of pain in your wrist.

The creek’s only about four inches deep, but falling onto your side and then thrashing about as you try to scramble away from the creature has left you completely soaked.

Doey winces. Evidently the sight of him is still shocking, even at this size.

But…he supposes you’d’ve never seen anything like him. Unless maybe you’d gone on a tour of the Playtime Co factory as a kid, but even then…grownups almost always dismissed the living toys as some kind of animatronics, sophisticated puppetry, or other such illusion.

Did anyone outside of the factory even realize that living toys had been in existence for…decades now?

“S-Sorry, pal…didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says, holding up his hands. He slowly approaches you, much the way he would have a frightened child in Playcare…despite you being well over ten times his size. Not to mention an adult.

“Wh-What…a-are you?” you manage to stammer out. Your eyes are locked onto him as he moves towards you, but manage to resist the urge to scramble back any further.

“The name’s Doey!” he says, puffing his chest out slightly. He reaches up to remove his hat, only to find it missing. Of course, there’s no way it would have stayed with him on his involuntary journey. Pity…he liked that hat.

But the problem is easily remedied.

He forms a new hat in his hand, this one the same light blue clay as his upper body instead of the darker blue plastic of his old accessory. Hat in hand, he brightens and takes a bow. “Doey the Doughman!” he finishes, placing the clay hat atop his head.

Doey grins up at you, watching your look of fear fade to curiosity. He can almost see the tension--some of it, at least--leave your shoulders as you relax ever so slightly. You clutch your injured wrist to your chest, canting your head as you regard him.

His kind tone and jovial nature seem to be winning you over, just as they’ve won over so many orphans and factory visitors (and even a few staff) before.

“Doey the Doughman…?” you repeat. You suddenly double take, blinking rapidly as you finally place both the name and his appearance. “A-As in…Doey-Dough?”

“Yep! That’s me!” he says proudly. “And what’s your name?” he asks in the gentle yet exaggeratedly eager tone of an adult trying to get an answer from a very shy child.

“Um.”  You’re still reeling from being in the presence of some kind of…talking clay creature, so it actually takes a moment to process and answer the question. But, after a moment, you manage to speak your own name, mostly without fumbling. Mostly.

“That’s a nice name!” he says kindly, his eyes closing into happy crescents as beams up at you. His smile fades slightly, his expression growing concerned. “But that looked like a nasty fall. You alright?” he asks gently.

“Y-Yeah, I um…just tweaked my wrist a bit…” you say distantly.

“Can I see?”

You hesitate. He’s so small…not to mention being made of sculpting clay. It’s hard to imagine such a creature is even capable of doing you harm, and he’s certainly not acting like he wants to.

You’re just about to extend your arm to him when he lets out an embarrassed laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, but you’d probably wanna get out of that creek first, huh?”

Despite your shock, you manage a small laugh at the quip. Not only because you’d managed to forget you were even sitting in a creek, but…well, Doey’s laugh is more than a little infectious.

“R-Right…” you manage. You pull yourself out the creek, taking a few steps to find one of the larger, flat rocks beside the creek to sit on. You don’t take your eyes off Doey for even a second. Not because you think he’d do anything, but…this whole thing feels so surreal, you can’t help but wonder if he’d disappear entirely if he left your line of sight.

You’re debating if you should offer him a hand up, but to your surprise he stretches his arms high above his head (nearly a whole two feet) and grabs onto the edge of the rock, pulling himself up effortlessly.

“Now, let’s have a look, huh?” he asks, holding out his hands.

“I-I think it’s just a sprain…and not even a very bad one…” you say, holding out your wrist to let him examine it.

“Well that’s good!” he says earnestly, taking your wrist in his hands. Holding a human wrist that’s almost as big around as him is a bit jarring, but he doesn’t let that show as he checks over your injury.

You’re surprised that his hands actually give off a bit of warmth. Not much, but more than you’d expect from clay that’s been sitting out in the autumn chill. It also has a bit more give than you’d expected. Not quite as soft as human hands, but just slightly squishy, similar to putty or clay that’s been worked for awhile.

He holds your wrist in one hand, using the other to carefully move your hand up and down, watching you closely for any signs of pain.

“S-So um, where’s the other one?” you finally ask.

He glances up at you blankly. “Other? Oh!” He laughs, shaking his head. “Just me,” he says. “Figured one witness might not be enough to drive the guy off, but two probably would be.” He releases your wrist, giving your hand a light pat. “You’re all set! Just be careful with it for a couple days.”

You’d been too surprised at just the existence of this creature that you hadn’t had time to ponder the reasoning for what he’d been doing. But as you do, you cant your head in confusion. “Why’d you want to drive him off?”

Doey seems surprised at the question, mimicking your head tilt as he looks up at you. “Because he was bothering you.” He pauses, wondering if perhaps he’d misread the situation. “...Wasn’t he?”

You grip your sore wrist, lightly rubbing at it. “Well…yeah, but…you just…decided to help me? A stranger? For no reason?”

Once again he meets your confusion with his own. “It’s not for no reason…I don’t like seeing people get picked on…”

“But isn’t it dangerous for you? What if he’d seen you?”

He blinks, momentarily surprised at your concern, but then grins up at you playfully. “Worried about me? A stranger?”

You pause a moment, then give a slightly sheepish laugh. “Heh…point taken…”

“Besides…I’m pretty durable,” he says, placing a hand on each side of his head and briefly squishing it like a bouncy ball.

You don’t find the action as amusing as Doey’d hoped you would. You blanch slightly, giving a slight shake of your head that looks more like a shudder. “This…This is impossible…” you say in a small voice.

His grin falters a bit. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that the wonder and whimsy of a living toy is easy to accept as a kid in a toy factory…less so as an adult out in the woods.

“Where did you come from? And why are you just…out in the woods like this?” you ask. Despite the situation, there’s a note of concern in your voice at the thought of the little guy out here alone. Even if he does insist he’s quite durable.

Some fragments of Kevin and Jack stir unpleasantly at the questioning, but Doey manages to quickly still them. He’s not sure how much he should tell you…how much he could even stand to tell you. But he’s not partial to lying, and some amount of explanation would probably put you at ease.

The slight pause before he speaks is barely noticeable. “I’m from the Playtime Co factory, of course!” he announces cheerfully.

You frown. “The one that was demolished?”

His face falls. “...Demolished?”

Not demolished! Lies. Destroyed. By mean Poppy, mean Doctor, mean employee…HURTS. HURTS US.

Doey shudders, staggering back and wrapping his arms around himself. “We’re okay…you’re okay…” he mumbles to himself. To all the pieces of himself.

His pained expression pulls at your heart, pushing aside the impossibility of the situation. You suddenly realize that whatever journey he’d taken from the now-demolished factory to way out here was probably not a pleasant one.

“I-I’m sorry!” you say quickly. You reach forward, cupping a hand beside him to steady him, though not touching him. “I…I shouldn’t pry…you don’t have to tell me if…it’s painful…”

To your surprise, he slumps against your hand, a dejected look on his face. He’d seemed so bright and cheerful a moment ago…you guess you’d bumped up against quite the wound to have his mood do such a turn.

Well…you can certainly relate to that.

Doey’s not even looking at you as he stays slouched against your hand, hugging himself and occasionally muttering things you can’t quite hear.

He’d managed to slip into his old role of protector and caretaker when he’d stepped in to help you. Calming you down and easing your apprehension had been much like his time before the Hour of Joy, when he’d play with the kids of Playcare. He’d always been good at making kids feel safe…and he’d been relieved to see those techniques could work on you, even if you’re an adult.

He could almost pretend it was the old days. The setting had changed a bit…and you may not be a child, but you still needed protection from bullies and comfort for only minor, very manageable injuries.

Nothing perilous.

Nothing life threatening.

He could still be the protector, the caretaker…just as he had back when the crown had been lighter.

“Um…Doey?” you prompt gently, pulling him out of his spiral and causing him to blink up at you in confusion.

He pulls away from your hand, his own hands fidgeting awkwardly as a halfhearted smile returns to his face. “Yes?”

“You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not, but…is…is there somewhere you’re going? Somewhere I can help you get to?”

Doey’s eyes widen slightly as he’s caught off guard at the question. He laughs, waving a hand. “Oh, no no, pal, you…you don’t gotta do anything for me!”

“You didn’t have to do anything for me,” you counter. “Besides, maybe it’s…none of my business, but…the woods doesn’t seem like a great place for a little guy like you…” As you speak, a poorly-timed (or well-timed, perhaps) gust of wind cuts through the trees, making your already chilled, wet clothes positively frigid. You shiver, puffing warm air on your hands and rubbing them together. “And I think it’s going to be cold tonight…they say it’ll snow this weekend…”

Doey’s not technically capable of changing color, but you swear the blue clay of his face gets a couple shades paler as a look of pure dread crosses his face. “Well I’m…I’m not…heading anywhere…” he finally says.

“Then…would you like to come with me?” you ask, holding out your hand again.

“With you? To where?”

You laugh awkwardly. Maybe you could have phrased your offer a bit more directly. “My house,” you say.

Doey sputters in surprise, at a loss for words. “Y-Your…house?” he finally manages. “I…you’d…take me in? Just like that?”

“You did help me,” you say. “And I wouldn’t feel right leaving you out here all alone…” you add, your expression softening.

His hands fidget nervously as he glances at your open palm beside him. “If it’s…really not too much trouble…” he says, resting his hand atop one of your fingers.

You smile, shaking your head. “It’s really not,” you say kindly.

He hesitates once more, then finally climbs onto your hand. “Th-Thank you…” he says softly…almost somberly, in fact.

You slowly lift your hand, cupping your free hand near him protectively. You carefully slide off the rock and begin the walk home. 

Doey’s a bit of an enigma--in more ways than one. You should be reeling from his mere existence. Maybe you’re just in shock or something, and the staggering reality of a living clay toy will hit you like a brick wall later on.

You suppose you’ll just have to hope it’s a bit gentler than that.

But what’s mainly on your mind at the moment is his behavior. He’d seemed so at ease when you’d first encountered him. Almost more concerned about you than himself. But mentioning the demolition of the factory had shattered that.

You reach the same conclusion you had earlier--whatever circumstances had led a lone, sapient toy to be lost in the woods--so lost and alone he can’t even suggest a place for you to take him--can’t be good.

You keep the hand he’s seated in close to your body, cupping the other hand near it to keep him from falling. Not that you’re walking anywhere near quick enough for that to be a real concern. He’s actually a little surprised at just how carefully you hold him, even after being told he can’t be hurt.

“So um,” he begins hesitantly, wanting to fill the silence. “Does that guy bother you…often?”

“Ethan?” you ask. “It uh…depends on your definition of ‘often’, I guess, but more often than I’d like. He’s my neighbor. He’s been coming by during my walks to try to talk me into selling my land…I guess I’ll just have to change what time I go for walks.”

You’ve already tried that three times now. The first time had brought you a couple weeks of peace. The second had brought one week. The third had brought even less.

“He wants to buy your land?”

You shake your head. “Not exactly. He has some…housing developer or something that he’s in touch with. He wants us both to sell our properties together for a subdivision. I guess they’ll pay more if they know they can get both properties? I don’t…really know all the details,” you admit. “I haven’t been interested in finding out. I just know that I want to keep this place.”

“Is there anyone you can ask for help? A parent or a counselor, maybe?”

You quirk a brow at the “counselor” suggestion…but if he was in the factory, maybe he’s just more used to talking to children? He probably just doesn’t know what options adults out in the real world have at their disposal.

“Well, I don’t have a counselor, and both my parents passed away,” you say simply.

“Oh…you’re an orphan?” he asks, looking up at you sadly, gently resting a hand against one of your fingers in what you assume must be meant as a comforting gesture.

“Er, not exactly? Dad only died a few years ago…I was an adult,” you clarify. “People usually only say ‘orphan’ if you’re still a kid.”

“Do they? I…I hadn’t realized…” he admits thoughtfully. “Still, though…” he adds, looking up at you worriedly, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

It’s the same unspoken question that always seems to hang after you tell people your parents are dead. A question you usually brush off with some platitude about being fine and just trying to live a life that would make them proud before steering the conversation away.

But…Doey’s sadness seems so genuine. Not that you think other people fake it per se, but a lot of them seem more awkward about the potential landmines they might step on or just at a loss for words, but…Doey seems like he’s actually more concerned about you rather than any sort of social etiquette.

He’s probably worked with orphans before, you realize. There was some sort of adoption program or orphanage associated with Playtime Co. You don’t know all the details, but maybe Doey had worked with those kids?

You smile sadly. “I’m alright. They’re at peace. And I’m um…getting there,” you say. Usually you just say you are at peace, but something about his earnest sympathy invites honesty. “I just um…try to do right by their memories, y’know?” you add.

Doey’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “They’d be very proud of you. You’re very brave, you know,” he says. It’s a line he’d repeated hundreds of times to hundreds of orphans in the Playcare, and then in Safe Haven. And he’s meant it every time, including now.

You, though, are not used to being spoken to so warmly, so soothingly about the matter. Even your grief counselor had been…well, not cold but…she’d had a job to do, you suppose, so her tone and manner had seemed more…distant, than the way Doey’s been speaking to you.

It catches you off guard, to put it mildly.

You glance away, clearing your throat and pretending to scratch at a spot on your cheek so you could wipe away a stray tear without Doey noticing. “R-Right, th-thanks…” you mumble hoarsely.

It’s been years since you’ve gone to pieces in front of anyone, and you’re not going to break that streak now.

Doey frowns at your reaction. It hadn’t been quite the one he’d hoped for.

You force a smile at him, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him. “Sorry. It’s just…been a busy day. I’m a bit…um…tense right now, I guess,” you say in a flimsy attempt waving off your reaction.

“You don’t gotta apologize, pal!” he says easily, patting your hand.

You emerge from the forest and begin crossing the small patch of grass that surrounds your house, serving as the lawn. You tilt your head towards your home and Doey follows your gaze.

“We’re just about here,” you say.

Doey peeks over your fingers, following your gaze towards the house. It’s one story tall, and…well, it’s hard for Doey to guess much more of that. He thinks it’s slightly bigger than Matthew’s old home but slightly smaller than Jack’s, but between his new size and how hazy those old memories are, even that rough guess is hard to put much stock in.

You enter through a small side door that opens into a mudroom. You kick off your boots and step onto the kitchen. “Do you mind waiting here while I change? I can show you around a bit more once I get into some dry clothes,” you say.

“Of course!” he says easily.

You make as if to set him on the counter, only to pause. “Um, would you rather be on the counter or the floor?” you ask.

He looks amused at the question, chuckling. “Eh, you can just toss me wherever,” he says playfully, waving a hand.

You laugh, shaking your head as you set him carefully on the countertop. “I’m not going to toss you, Doey!”

Once again, something in him warms as you take far more care with him than you need to.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” you say, heading to your room on the other side of the house. You lift your hand in a small wave, which Doey returns with his usual large grin.

Once you’re gone, he glances around the kitchen. It doesn’t look much different from any of the kitchens Matthew, Jack, and Kevin had glimpsed in their time before coming to Playcare. Off-white laminate countertops and floors, brown wooden cabinets, flowery wallpaper that’s peeling in a couple places, and the usual assortment of appliances.

You change quickly, not wanting to leave Doey alone for too long. You’re still pulling on your hoodie when you re-enter the kitchen. “Are you cold at all?” you ask. “Do you need like…a blanket or anything? Something to eat?” You pause. “Erm, do you eat?”

Doey’s expression goes slack for a moment and you’re not sure what to make of the reaction, but clearly the question has struck something in him.

“I um! YES--NO!!” He cuts himself off so abruptly it almost sounds like he’s being silenced by someone else. “YES--SOMETIMES!!” He clutches at his head, clenching his eyes shut. After a moment he seems to relax, running his hands down his face to reveal an utterly exhausted expression. Somehow it even looks like he has bags under his eyes.

“Hey, it’s alright…just relax…” you say gently. You reach out to put a hand against him, only to pull back without touching him. You’re not sure if being patted by a hand nearly as long as him would really help with the whole relaxing thing.

“S-Sorry…” he mumbles, looking away shamefully at his outburst. “I um. I…I forgot how hungry I am. I…I usually just…try not to think about it.”

“So you do eat…” you say. “And it sounds like you haven’t in awhile…?”

“I…don’t have to. I’ve gone months without eating. It doesn’t seem to matter. The hunger is…it’s just a feeling. I can tune it out most of the time,” he says, not meeting your eye as he wrings his hands.

You pull back in surprise. “Doey, I’m…I’m not going to make you go hungry!” you protest, aghast.

“But…it’s just…food’s not free, right?” he asks hesitantly, finally lifting his gaze to you.

“Well, no…” you admit. “But it’s not gold bars and diamonds, either.” You smile gently. “Besides, you’re six inches tall…I doubt you eat more than I do,” you say lightly.

He gives a sheepish smile and nervous laugh, which you chalk up to general nervousness. “Heh…right…”

“I was about to make dinner…I usually make enough for a couple meals, so it’d be no trouble to fix you a plate. Whatever you don’t finish can be breakfast tomorrow. Anything in particular you like?”

Doey briefly pulls a face as if he’s literally biting his tongue to keep from speaking…though you’re not sure if he actually has a tongue. “Um. Wh-Whatever you’re eating is fine. Doesn’t have to be anything special, I…I can eat just about anything…”

He hasn’t liked any of the “food” he’s had in years. Not since Hoppy found that last box of candy up in Playcare…and even then, it had expired years before she’d found it. But easing the hunger, even for a moment, had always been such a relief that he’d actually started to forget that flavor is even a factor in food.

You rest against the counter, debating whether to press the issue. After a moment you decide not to. “Mac and cheese?” you offer.

He gives a sigh of longing that sounds halfway like a sob. “Y-Yes. That…that sounds wonderful.”

“Then mac and cheese it is,” you say warmly.

You begin the prep work, letting the conversation lapse as you wonder at your strange new guest. You’ve barely scratched the surface of who and what he is, but it still breaks your heart how reluctant he is to accept any sort of hospitality from you…especially with how readily he’d stepped in to help with Ethan.

It’s possible he just naturally has a very giving and self-sufficient personality, but you can’t help but wonder if someone, or several someones, in his past had made him feel just…undeserving.

The boxed mac and cheese you make is a family-sized meal, so even scooping out two full portions for yourself and Doey leaves plenty for tomorrow’s leftovers.

Doey’s eyes widen at the sight of the full bowl. He tries to utter a protest--you don’t need to give him that much, that just half a bowl would be more than enough, but fragments of Kevin and Jack bubble to the surface, silencing him as their hunger roars within him.

You take the bowls to the table before returning for the silverware. You’re not completely oblivious to Doey’s inner turmoil, but you don’t even come close to guessing the extent of it, assuming he’s just a bit shy about accepting your hospitality.

As you’re reaching for forks, you pause. The forks are longer than Doey himself…would he be able to use one? You open the other drawer, grabbing the smallest measuring spoon you have. It’s still a bit big--but trying to eat mac and cheese with a garden trowel is still easier than eating it with a pitchfork, you suppose.

You set the silverware on the table and return to the counter to get Doey. Before you can, however, he leaps from the countertop, causing you to let out a wordless cry of protest, scrambling to catch him.

He lands with a splat, his lower body flattening against the floor. But before you can even wonder if such an act is painful, he bounces back up, his lower body rounding back out so quickly his feet actually leave the floor for a second.

Doey gives a sheepish giggle at your fretful look. “Eheh…sorry pal, didn’t mean to scare you.” He winks, waggling a finger at you playfully. “I did tell you I’m durable, though,” he reminds you in a slightly teasing tone.

You feel your cheeks warming with embarrassment. “R-Right…it’s um…just a bit jarring to see, is all…”

“Well, I’ll be sure to warn ya next time then,” he chuckles.

You hold out a hand, assuming he’ll still need help getting onto the table. He laughs again, shaking his head as he walks past you. “You don’t need to carry me around either, much as I appreciate the offer,” he says.

Not that he’d minded being held, but…well, it’s probably not something you’d choose to do if you were aware of just how mobile Doey is, even at his smaller size.

You get to your feet as he walks past you. “Oh um, alright…” you say, figuring he knows what he’s talking about.

And indeed he does, for he stretches his arms upward, gripping the side of the table. He then lifts himself so quickly that his momentum carries him over the edge. He rolls as he lands, ending up sitting atop the table facing you. He grins widely, giving you a thumbs up.

“Heh,” you laugh weakly, returning the thumbs up before taking your seat. He’s more physically adept than you’d initially assumed…maybe his time in the forest hadn’t been as harrowing as you’d thought.

Doey manages to keep the more impulsive fragments within him in check. It’s incredibly difficult to pick up the little measuring spoon and eat with anything resembling decorum, but Doey manages to convince Jack and even Kevin that good manners will get them more meals. You’re not going to want to keep making him food if he splatters it all over the table and walls, or even if he just grosses you out with poor mealtime etiquette.

Jack is pretty easily swayed by this argument, as it matches up with his childhood memories from home. Kevin is less convinced--he wants to take all he can before you change your mind, but he’s overruled, and even he can’t completely discount how readily you offered the meal even knowing Doey doesn’t technically need it.

Still, while his manners are far more polite than not, he doesn’t even come close to hiding how much he’s relishing the meal. Each bite causes him to emit a happy little hum at the delicious flavor--oh how he’s missed flavor--and occasionally do a little bounce or kick his feet as he savors the taste.

You try not to react at first, not wanting to make him self-conscious, but eventually a small giggle escapes you, causing him to flinch sheepishly, giving you an apologetic smile.

“S-Sorry, it’s…it’s just very good!” he says with an awkward giggle.

“No sorries!” you say quickly, waving a hand. “I’ve just never had anyone enjoy my cooking nearly that much. If anything, it’s flattering!” you assure him lightly.

Well, that’s a relief, though Doey’s still not convinced flattery would be the first thing on your mind if he allowed himself to eat as greedily as he wants to.

He only eats a little more than half his portion. Not quite enough to fully quiet his long hunger, but enough to appease the fragments of Kevin and Jack. He doesn’t want to appear greedy, and despite your earlier comments, he can’t help but feel he’ll quickly wear out his welcome if he eats as much as a human, especially at his small size.

It’s still a far better meal than he’s had in over a decade, though.

“Mmm…that hit the spot,” he sighs contentedly, laying back on the table. His belly is noticeably distended, to a degree that would be concerning for a human. You debate asking him about it, but decide against it. He seems happy and content, and despite how jovial and even playful he seems a lot of the time, you’ve also seen how quickly that can turn.

Again, you can relate.

“Thank you, by the way,” he says in a more somber tone as he lays back, staring up at the kitchen ceiling. “F-For dinner, and…e-everything…”

“Thank you for helping with Ethan.”

He gives a vague hum of affirmation. “Didn’t do much…Should help with…the dishes…” he mumbles.

You quickly stash the leftovers in the fridge and return to the table. “Doey? Are you alright?” you ask, letting a bit of urgency slip into your tone.

His eyes are closed, his hands folded atop his belly. “Hmm?” he mumbles tiredly.

“You’re…um, you’re just falling asleep, right? Do you…need anything?”

“Mm-mm,” he mumbles. “Just sleepy. Haven’t really…slept in awhile…”

Your brow knits at the statement. Does he mean that literally? Or just that he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in awhile? Or is sleep “optional” for him the same way food seems to be?

“Well, why don’t we get you somewhere more comfortable, then?” you offer.

He doesn’t answer, but you faintly hear the sound of the slow, steady breathing of someone fast asleep.

You don’t want to leave him on the table. You’re not sure how much ergonomics matter to a little dough man, but…surely a bed would be more comfortable? If only mentally.

You gently scoop him up, cradling him in both hands. He stirs slightly, but gives no indication he’s really awake or aware of what you’re doing.

He feels slightly heavier than he did before. Or maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, and you just expect him to feel heavier after that meal.

You carry him to the rarely-used guest room, gently setting him down on one of the pillows. You pull the blanket up slightly, covering him up to his waist. Covered enough that if he gets cold at night he can find the blanket and tuck himself in more, but not so covered that he’s liable to get lost in the (to him) huge blanket. 

You lean against the wall beside the bed, watching him for a moment. You can barely believe he’s even real. Part of you thinks you’ll just wake up tomorrow and realize it was all some silly dream.

But…you hope not.

“Goodnight, Doey,” you say softly, finally heading out of the room, turning off the light on your way out.

You wonder if taking him in like this, letting yourself get attached, is really a good idea. You don’t know much about who he is, and you probably know even less about what he is. You don’t know what he might want or need, or what he might do. What he could do.

Then again…he’s a six inch toy made of dough. How much trouble could he really cause?

[genshinluvr]

The Boyfriend Brigade

Pairings: Various Love&Deepspace Men x reader

Summary: After being away on a solo mission for quite some time, you return to Linkon City feeling unwell. After failing to respond to text messages, you end up getting unexpected visitors and find yourself in a predicament.

Note: I had this fanfic in the drafts for months and couldn't finish it because of how busy I was ;v; but I finally got to finish it! The next update is another LADS update, but this time, it's a smut fic! I'm not sure if it will be separated by character or if all the men are involved in one smut fic. I'll probably have a spinning wheel choose for me. In case anyone is interested in joining, my Discord server is currently open. If you're interested in joining a small community of people who play LADS alongside Hoyoverse games, I'll provide the server link at the end of this fic. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mother Nature comes to visit you unannounced, if that counts as one

Word Count: 8.2k

You lean against the tree behind you, trying not to collapse to the ground while in the middle of the woods of a foreign country. You’re exhausted, and things have not been slowing down for you. The metaflux levels are through the roof, and wanderers lurk in every corner, forcing you to stay on high alert (as if you weren’t on high alert already). During the first few weeks of your solo mission, you infiltrated Ever’s secret base two hundred meters from where you’re currently gathering intel on protocores and aether cores. 

Once you have gathered enough information and sent it to the Hunters Association, you continue with your solo mission: handling the wanderers and entering an area with a high protofield. Is it a smart idea to enter a protofield all alone? No, no, it’s not a bright idea, especially now that you’re dealing with endless hordes of wanderers in the woods, sniffing you out like a bloodhound. 

You’re not injured— or at least not horribly injured— but you are feeling under the weather. You barely have the chance to get some rest and sleep. You’re always on your feet, constantly looking over your shoulders to make sure that there aren’t any wanderers ready to strike while you’re trying to take a breather. After what felt like forever, it could be longer than you expected, but you digress— the protofield is stabilized, and you can finally rest after who knows how long. But before you can relax, you decide to return to Linkon City and report to Captain Jenna about your completed mission. On your flight back to Linkon City, you’re knocked out and sleep until one of the flight attendants (bless her heart) wakes you up from your slumber. 

You didn’t inform anyone of your return to Linkon, so you didn’t expect anyone to pick you up from the airport. Usually, it would be Zayne who picks you up from the airport, and sometimes it’s Sylus. So, here you are, sitting at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to arrive. 

Your eyelids feel heavy, and you can barely remain conscious. You lean against the bus stop, trying your best not to nod off. You pull your phone out from your pocket and turn it on. Once your phone finally has connection, a slew of notifications pop up on your screen. From text messages to phone calls to video calls, it just keeps popping up now that your phone has a decent connection after who knows how long. 

RAFAYEL:

“Miss Bodyguard, when are you going to be back from your dangerous solo mission? Personally, I don’t think you should be doing this mission alone, but that’s just me.”

“I don’t want to have an art exhibit without you present. You’re my number one supporter and my bodyguard! I can’t go anywhere without you by my side!” 

“Thomas is talking my ears off about it, and I’m trying everything I can to ignore him, but he’s  giving me this look.”

“Miss Bodyguardddddddd. When are you coming home? :(” 

“Are you back yet?”

SYULS:

“Kitten, I will be expecting you to return to Linkon City unscathed. Do not do anything reckless, alright? Always be two steps ahead of your enemies and know their weaknesses.” 

“Kick their asses, and don’t let them kick yours. Show them what I have taught you in the boxing ring.”

“I will see you soon, alright? I want you to return to me safe and sound. If anyone lays their hands on you, tell me who they are, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Luke and Kieran keep pestering me about your return to the N109 Zone.”

“I found something interesting in Mephisto’s nest today. I believe these are your earrings and bracelets. [PHOTO ATTACHMENT] Mephisto loves shiny things, and he so happens to take a liking to your jewelry.”

ZAYNE:

“How is your mission coming along?”

“Are you resting? Make sure not to overexert yourself, and make sure to eat plenty of food.”

“It’s been a few days since I’ve heard from you. You are safe, right?”

“If you need any assistance, I am one phone call away.”

“Text me back when you get this message.”

XAVIER:

“Make sure not to storm into the protofield recklessly.”

“Let me know when your mission is completed. I want to be the first person you see when you return from your mission.”

“I made sure to water the plants on your balcony and organize the plushies in your room. They are waiting for your return, and I am waiting for your reply.”

“I hope you do not have to resort to this, but if you are in any danger and cannot complete your solo mission, don’t hesitate to call me for help. I will be there in a heartbeat.”

“It’s been a while since I sent my previous message, and I still haven���t heard back from you. Are you alright? Do you need me to step in to help you?”

Before you can unlock your phone to answer any of the text messages you have received, the screen suddenly goes black. You close your eyes and slump in your seat at the bus stop, realizing that you did not charge your phone at all before boarding the plane. Now that your phone is dead, you have no way to contact any of the four men to inform them of your return to Linkon City.

“This is fine,” You mutter, too exhausted to do anything. “I’ll message them once I charge my phone.”

When the bus finally arrives, you sit close to the back of the bus with your belongings and close your eyes. It’ll be a fifteen-minute drive to the nearest bus stop near your apartment, so you might as well sit back and get some shut-eye before arriving home. When the bus arrives at the bus stop a block from your apartment, you nearly miss your stop due to your nap. You stumble off the bus and trudge toward the direction of your apartment, still groggy from your nap on the bus. 

A small gust of air causes you to tense up and shiver. You hug yourself with one arm while dragging your luggage with the other, now realizing how cold you are. Despite feeling like a walking popsicle, your body is also covered in a thin layer of sweat. Dear goodness, you must look like a mess to whoever lays their eyes on you.

Everything is a blur after, and you find yourself collapsing on your couch after closing and locking your apartment door. Your luggage is abandoned next to the shoe rack, while one boot is beside the luggage, and the other lies beside your couch. You’re too tired to change out of your clothes and go to your bedroom. Your entire body is aching, and every limb feels like lead. You shift on the couch, digging your hands into your pockets to take your dead phone out of your pockets before tossing it onto the coffee table.

Once you get that out of the way, you curl up into a fetal position and hug your knees to your chest. Your body wracks with shivers when a wave of chills washes over your body as you slowly drift off to a dreamless sleep.

- Two Days Later -

Rafayel steps out of the elevator and turns to the right, walking towards a specific apartment. Before choosing to stop by his precious bodyguard’s apartment, Rafayel realizes that all of his messages are left on read. Now, Rafayel may not be much of a texter (only when it comes to other people who aren’t you), but seeing his messages being left on read with little to no response drives him up the wall. However, since you’re the cutest and most precious person in the world, Rafayel lets you off the hook. 

“She’s probably busy with the Hunters Association debriefing.” Is what Rafayel would say to himself, trying to bury the clenching feeling in his chest. But as time goes by, Rafayel will find himself opening the message between you and him, staring at the “READ” receipt at the bottom of his message— still no response from you, not even a phone call, voice message, video call, nothing. 

Rafayel doesn’t want to be seen as clingy, but he can’t help but crave for your attention, your voice, your laughter, your touch, you, you, you. Rafayel checks the tracking device he left on you (he did it for your safety) and sees that you’re at your apartment and not in some foreign country the last time he checked! Rafayel pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, letting out a long exhale through his nose.

“I guess she wants me to be the one to stop by this time,” Rafayel mutters before standing up. “Thomas, I’m heading out. It seems like Miss Bodyguard wants me to stop by her place.”

Thomas looks up from his phone, watching the Lemurian man grab his coat and car keys. Before Thomas can say anything, Rafayel is already out the front door, closing the door behind him. Thomas sighs, shaking his head.

As Rafayel approaches closer to your apartment, Rafayel slowly stops in his tracks. Rafayel’s mood worsens after seeing familiar faces in front of your apartment door. Just when Rafayel thinks he’s going to be your first and only visitor after you return from your mission, three other men have the same plan in mind. Rafayel stops before the three men, sensing tension among the trio. 

Zayne chuckles dryly. “I see we all have the same intention,” Zayne mutters, his gaze flickering from Xavier and Sylus to Rafayel. “You three don’t need to be here. As her primary care physician, it is my duty to check up on her to make sure she’s okay.”

Xavier smiles at Zayne and crosses his arms over his chest. “Dr. Zayne, while I understand that you’re [Y/N]’s primary care physician, I’m her coworker and neighbor. I believe that I have every right to check up on her after not hearing back from her in a while.”

Zayne and Xavier continue to stare at each other; both men have fake smiles on their faces. Sylus chuckles, shaking his head while tapping on his temples as he watches the tension rise between your so-called coworker and primary care physician. 

Rafayel narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, puffing his chest out as he nods in Sylus’s direction. “And what about you?”

Sylus looks at Rafayel with amusement, pointing at himself. Rafayel nods, pressing his lips into a thin line as he waits for Sylus to respond. “Oh, [Y/N] and I are—” Sylus is cut off by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. The three men (Sylus, Xavier, and Zayne) take a step back, going silent as they try to hear other things coming from behind the door. Finally! Finally, you’re going to show your cute face to them all, reassuring them you’re okay and that you’re trying to recharge after a draining mission.

In a perfect world, that’s how everything will go down. In each man’s fantasy, they imagine you telling the other men to go home so you and he can spend time together after not seeing each other for a while. However, no one lives in a perfect world, no matter how much they hope. The doorknob wiggles, and a faint click and beep comes from the door. What everyone expects to see is you in a sleepy haze, answering the door in your cozy pajamas with an extreme bedhead, rubbing your eyes, and yawning. What they all did not expect to see is—

“Hello there! Is there anything I can help you all with?” A boy-next-door voice asks.

— A man in his mid-twenties answering your door… the very same door that belongs to your apartment. The man has black hair and French lilac with a hint of rose gold accents in his eyes, and he’s tall, perhaps the same height as Sylus. Maybe a little shorter than the Onychinus leader. Zayne tenses up the minute he and the mysterious black-haired man lock eyes. 

Shit. They didn’t get the wrong apartment, did they? Rafayel quickly glances at the apartment number above the door to make sure he (and the others) didn’t get the wrong apartment, but it’s the correct apartment, and Rafayel can see your signature furniture behind the man’s shoulders.

A look of surprise flashes over the man’s face before being replaced by a wide smile, and he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe of your apartment. “Zayne! It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other!” The man says.

Rafayel’s eyes dart between the two black-haired men, looking at them incredulously. “You two know each other!?” Rafayel blurts, grabbing Zayne and the mysterious black-haired man’s attention.

“Of course! We've known each other since we were children,” the black-haired man replies. “Isn’t that right, Zayne?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side as he waits for Zayne’s response.

Zayne nods. “That is correct. Caleb and I have known each other since we were children.”

Silence falls over the five men, no one saying a single thing. Rafayel puffs his cheeks out and sighs, crossing his arms over his chest while leaning on one leg before switching to the other. This Caleb guy is close friends with your primary care physician, but what is Caleb’s relationship with you? Surely you’re not dating this man, are you? Could he be your brother, by chance?

Xavier is the first person to break the silence. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you in [Y/N]’s apartment?”

A look of surprise flashes over Caleb’s face. Caleb smiles and stands straight, propping both hands on his hips. “I’m here to take care of [Y/N]. I messaged her not long ago to let her know that I’m in Linkon, but she never replied. So, I took that as an opportunity to stop by her apartment to check up on her,” Caleb replies.

Sylus raises his eyebrows at Caleb’s reply, eyeing the man from head to toe— almost as if he’s sizing Caleb up. “How did you enter [Y/N]’s apartment? You didn’t happen to, oh, I don’t know, break into her apartment while she’s asleep, did you?” Sylus asks, narrowing his eyes at the black-haired man.

Caleb raises his hand before digging one hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a key. “Me? Breaking into [Y/N]’s apartment? I would never,” Caleb rolls his eyes. “And for your information, she gave me a spare key a while back.”

Sylus briefly glances at the key in Caleb’s hand before continuing what he’s doing prior: sizing Caleb up (or at least that’s what it looks like to others around Sylus). The more Caleb stares at Sylus, the more he notices that Sylus’s eyes have a faint glow. Caleb breaks eye contact with the white-haired man before laughing bitterly.

“I assume you all want to check up on [Y/N]. I’m afraid I cannot let you all into her apartment as of now due to her current condition,” Caleb states, now crossing his arms over his chest.

That catches the four men’s attention immediately. Not only does it bother them that they’re not allowed to see you after not seeing you in a while, but the vagueness of Caleb’s response irks them to no end. 

Xavier takes a step forward, his eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by her current condition? She’s not hurt, is she?” Xavier frowns, his heart pounding in his chest.

Caleb sighs, unsure of whether he should explain the situation to the three unfamiliar men and Zayne. Residents of the apartment weave through the four men in the hallway to get to their apartment and the elevator, grumbling about people taking up space and being inconsiderate. Caleb presses his lips into a thin line before gesturing for the four men to enter the apartment so they wouldn’t block the hallway for the residents. 

After everyone is in the apartment, Caleb closes and locks the apartment door. Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, and Rafayel each take their shoes off and put on the spare slippers on the shoe rack. Caleb observes each man closely, mildly miffed over the fact that they know about the (now) unspoken rule when entering your apartment: shoes are to be taken off and put on house slippers. Everyone slowly migrates to the living room, some sitting on your couch while others refuse to sit. 

Caleb takes a deep breath. “[Y/N]’s sick,” Caleb says. Caleb looks at each person’s face to see their reaction.

The frown on Zayne’s face deepens as he crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrows furrowing with worry. “How long has she been sick?” Zayne demands, his eyes occasionally lingering in the direction of your bedroom. 

“I don’t know how long she’s been like this, but whenever I stopped by not long ago, she was unconscious on the couch. I carried her to her room and made sure she changed into loose and comfortable clothes. Thankfully, she took her medication when I handed her cold medicine. However, it seems her sickness has gotten worse overnight.”

Rafayel’s eyes widen with disbelief and horror. “Worse?! What do you mean by worse? Miss Bodyguar— [Y/N]’s not going to die, is she!?”

Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head after hearing Rafayel’s ridiculous question. Xavier and Sylus look at Rafayel with a questioning gaze while Caleb chuckles with amusement, shaking his head. 

Xavier crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the couch. “If she’s sick, then why didn’t she let any of us know about her condition?”

Sylus looks at the coffee table and sees your phone lying face down. “She’s either too drained to reply to our messages to inform us of her whereabouts or…” Sylus trails off, reaching for your phone. Sylus presses the button on the side of your phone, expecting your phone to light up. But alas, your phone doesn’t turn on, even if he presses down the button for ten seconds. “She forgot to charge her phone, and her phone is dead.”

Zayne turns toward Caleb and says, “As her primary care physician, it’s my job to check up on her.”

Caleb holds his hands up in a surrender gesture. “I know that, Zayne. I’m not stopping you from checking up on [Y/N]. She’s still sleeping in her room. I tried getting her to eat something, but she refused. She only took cold medicine before going back to sleep,” Caleb says, frowning.

Caleb gestures for Zayne to follow him before turning around and walking towards your closed bedroom door. Caleb grabs the door handle and quietly opens the door. Zayne and Caleb peek their heads into your bedroom to see you out cold on your bed, buried under mountains of blankets. Caleb opens the door wider before entering your room, with Zayne following close behind. The other three men stand by the doorway, eyes glued on your unconscious body.

“If [Y/N] wanted something to warm her up as she sleeps, she could’ve just asked me,” Rafayel mutters, leaning against the doorframe. 

Zayne kneels at the edge of your bed, eyes scanning your face. He presses the back of his hand against your forehead. You sigh with relief when you feel something cool press up against your hot forehead. You subconsciously lean into Zayne’s cool touch, wanting more of his touch to cool you down.

“You said she hasn’t eaten anything, correct?” Zayne mutters, looking at Caleb.

Caleb nods wordlessly, his eyes never leaving your face. “She has not, unfortunately. Again, I tried to convince her to eat the congee I’ve cooked, but she just wanted to sleep,” Caleb replies, now standing beside Zayne. 

The chatter around you slowly brings you back to consciousness. You crack your eyes open and look around your bedroom with bleary eyes. You mumble incoherent words, grabbing the attention of the five men around you. Upon seeing you awake, the men remaining at the doorway of your bedroom rush over to where you lie. Your body heat and the mountains of blankets over your body cause you to squirm as you struggle to sit up and push the blankets off your body. 

Xavier and Zayne help you sit on your bed while Rafayel fluffs the pillow behind you, cushioning your back against the bed frame. Sylus hands you a cup of water to drink after seeing you rub your throat while wincing. You weakly smile at Sylus before taking huge gulps of water. 

Xavier chuckles, sitting beside you, and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Careful, now. You wouldn’t want to choke, now, would you?” Xavier murmurs, wiping the droplet of water from the corner of your lips after you downed the cup of water. 

You shakily place the cup on your nightstand, leaning your head against the wall, and stare at your lap. No one says anything as they stare at you, waiting for you to say or do something. You rub your eyes with your knuckles, still groggy from your sleep. It feels nice to finally be home after a long mission, but you’re sick, and you feel like you got hit by a bullet train.

“Are you hungry, pipsqueak?” Caleb asks, rubbing your head affectionately before fixing your bedhead. 

You shake your head. “No, I’m okay.” You lie.

Before anyone can say anything, the silence is broken by a loud rumbling in your stomach. You clear your throat and hug your pillow to your chest, ignoring the gnawing feeling in your gut. You’re starving, but you don’t want to eat. 

Sylus frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he scrutinizes you. “Sweetie, just because you’re sick and tired doesn’t mean you should starve yourself,” Sylus lectures you, shaking his head with disapproval. “If you don’t eat anything, how else will you recover from your illness, hm?”

You stare at the Onychinus leader with a visible pout on your face. The way you stare at Sylus makes him feel weak at the knees. You resemble a stray kitten found in a downpour— pathetic but cute. 

“Maybe she doesn’t want to eat congee. Is it possible she wants to eat something else?” Rafayel mutters, stroking his chin. “Hey, cutie. What do you want to eat? Definitely not boring old congee, right?” Rafayel jokes.

Caleb raises an eyebrow at Rafayel’s comment, turning to you. You press your lips into a thin line and think for a minute. You don’t mind eating congee since it's easy to stomach, but you’re not entirely sure if you want to eat the same thing over and over until you’re no longer sick. The congee Caleb makes is delicious, but you want something new and easy to eat, similar to congee, but without eating congee itself. 

“How about I make you some chicken soup? It has plenty of nutrients your body needs in order to recover from an illness.” Xavier says, grabbing hold of your hand and gently squeezing them.

Hearing Xavier offer to cook you something to eat nearly has you in tears. It’s not like you don’t want Xavier to cook you food—actually, it is that. You love Xavier and his willingness to cook something for you to eat, but cooking isn’t his best suit. Xavier looks at you worriedly after not hearing a response from you. The puppy dog eyes Xavier has on his face is killing you.

Zayne clears his throat, sighing to himself. “Chicken soup is a good option if you don’t want to eat congee. Caleb can cook the chicken soup while I get your medication. Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus can keep you entertained.”

You nearly cry in relief when Zayne says it’s going to be Caleb who’s going to cook the chicken soup for you to eat (sorry, Xavier). You nod, immediately agreeing to Zayne’s suggestion. After Zayne and Caleb leave your room, you lie back down and hug your pillow. You notice Sylus slip out of your bedroom for a moment, but instead of heading to your living room, he goes straight to your bathroom.

Rafayel pouts, staring at you like an angry toddler. “You don’t want to cuddle me, cutie? After not seeing each other for such a long time, you don’t want to cuddle to make up for the lost time?” Rafayel grumbles, his bottom lip jutting out as he plops down at the edge of your bed.

Xavier glares at Rafayel before looking elsewhere. “It’s not a good idea to cuddle with someone while they’re sick. [Y/N] still has a fever, and cuddling her will only add to the discomfort,” Xavier lectures Rafayel.

Rafayel rolls his eyes before lying down on you, his head resting on your lap as he grabs your hand, completely disregarding Xavier’s lecture and glare. Rafayel laces his fingers with yours and presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Nothing is going to stop me from cuddling with you, cutie. Unless you demand personal space, then it’s too bad because I’m here to stay,” Rafayel states, smirking over in Xavier’s direction.

Xavier’s nostrils flare, and his hands clenched into tight fists. “You—”

“Now, now, gentlemen. I believe now is not the right time to be bickering with one another. You two will only make [Y/N]’s headache worse the more you argue with one another. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Sylus clicks his tongue with disapproval as he exits your bathroom with a wet cloth in his hand. 

Sylus sits at the edge of your bed near your head, brushing your damp hair away from your face and forehead. You stare at Sylus, watching him fold the small hand towel in half before placing the cool, wet towel over your forehead. 

You sigh with contentment. “That feels really nice,” you murmur, closing your eyes. “Thank you, Sylus.”

“Anything for you, kitten. Now, get some rest. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for you to eat,” Sylus murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

Rafayel and Xavier stare at Sylus with their mouths agape and eyebrows furrowing. Sylus chuckles and shakes his head at their reactions before getting up from your bed. “Make sure to behave, you two. You wouldn’t want another lecture from Dr. Zayne and Caleb, now, would you?”

Rafayel and Xavier glance at each other from the corner of their eyes before watching the leader of Onychinus peer from your bedroom door to see what Zayne and Caleb are doing. You pull the blanket up to your chin and slowly fall into a dreamless sleep.

- 40 Minutes Later -

“How in the world did she fall asleep already?”

“Yeah, she can be a pretty heavy sleeper when she’s sick.” You hear Caleb laugh.

Sylus sighs. “Sweetie, you need to wake up and eat. You can’t skip your meals while you’re sick.”

The voices around you continue to chatter, making it nearly impossible to fall asleep, but not impossible enough to stop you from doing so. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but when you open your eyes, you find yourself sitting on the couch with the blanket draped over your thighs. 

You smack your lips together, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, almost struggling to lift your arms. You furrow your eyebrows, annoyed you can’t get your limbs to function. Your head is resting on the couch cushion, nearly lulling you to sleep again. 

“Oh, no, you don’t! Don’t fall asleep on us now, cutie.” Rafayel protests, rushing over to your side and gently patting and poking your cheeks to keep you conscious.

You softly whine, struggling to grab hold of Rafayel’s hand. You open your eyes, only to see how close Rafayel’s face is to yours. You stare at him, confused. Rafayel sighs in relief and slowly backs away, now sitting beside you. Your head droops forward as you try to fight off the need to sleep. How in the world did you get on this couch?

Xavier kneels beside you, grabbing your hand. “You don’t remember what happened before you were carried to the living room?” Xavier asks, staring into your bleary eyes.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

Caleb places a food tray on your lap and then sets down a bowl of chicken soup and cutlery in front of you. The bowl has shredded chicken with chicken broth, chopped carrots, and celery. The aroma of the soup is so delicious that it causes your stomach to let out a growl that’s loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Zayne sits to the right of you. “Do you want to take your medication now, or do you want to take it after you finish your lunch?” Zayne asks, holding up the bottle of cold medicine.

You stare at the bottle, hesitant about taking the medication again. You should really get new cold medicine because the one Zayne is holding makes you feel nauseous every time you take it. Could it be because you took the medication on an empty stomach? You point at the chicken soup before scooping the broth and shredded chicken with the spoon, and begin eating the soup that Caleb cooked for you to eat.

When you pick up a piece of carrot with your chopsticks, Zayne visibly narrows his eyes at the orange vegetable and watches you bite the soft vegetable. Caleb chuckles, shaking his head at Zayne’s reaction to seeing a carrot.

“You still don’t like carrots, Zayne?” Caleb teases, crossing his arms over his chest.

Zayne clears his throat, almost rolling his eyes. “What about you? Do you still hate cilantro?” Zayne mutters, looking at Caleb from the corner of his eye.

Rafayel, Xavier, and Sylus glance at each other while internally questioning the strange interaction between Zayne and Caleb. Caleb and Zayne said they were “childhood friends,” but the way they’re acting with each other says the complete opposite. The others around Caleb and Zayne can almost visibly see electricity spark between the two men, the more they shoot not-so-subtle glares at each other. If this continues, the two could burn down your (and Xavier’s) apartment building.

You set your chopsticks down on the bowl when you feel a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You try to ignore the pain and grab the spoon, taking small sips of the chicken broth, hoping the warm soup will ease the pain in your abdomen. Your stomach isn’t hurting; in fact, it hasn’t been hurting since you returned to Linkon City. You start listing the possibilities of what can make your abdomen hurt while sipping your soup.

You haven’t eaten much since your return to Linkon City, so the possibility of eating something “bad” is out of the question. But that’s stomach pain, not lower abdominal pain. Wait— When was the last time you had your period? 

Xavier squeezes your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What’s wrong?” He whispers, leaning over and staring at you intently. “Do you not like the soup? Would you prefer for me to cook you something instead?”

You blink at Xavier, slowly shaking your head. “The soup is fine, but…” You trail off, feeling the familiar pain return. “I don’t think I’ll be able to finish this soup.” 

The men around you peek into the bowl to see how much soup you have left, and you barely make a dent in the soup. You’ve probably eaten three slices of carrots and four shredded chicken and sipped the broth around two or three times, but either way, you’re not even close to finishing the chicken soup that Caleb made for you.

“Can you try to finish at least half of the soup? You don’t have to finish the entire thing, but half would suffice,” Sylus suggests, gazing at you worriedly. 

You stare at the soup, sighing. It’s not like you’re full, it’s just that the cramps you’re suddenly feeling are making it hard for you to want to finish your food. The longer you stare at your food, the more you can feel holes being burned into the back of your head from how hard the five men around you are staring at you.

You grab the food tray and place it on the ground before getting up from the couch. Just when you thought the cramps you were feeling a moment ago were bad, they just got worse the minute you stood up. You clear your throat, acting like you’re not being stabbed in the abdomen over and over by a box cutter. You point to the bathroom, letting them know you’ll be right back before sprinting away. During your journey to the bathroom, you feel the familiar sense of dread fall over you when, you’re assuming, blood starts gushing out of your lady bits. 

You accidentally slam the bathroom door shut behind you as you rush to the toilet, pull your pajama pants and underwear down. You grit your teeth and silently groan at the sight. That’s going to leave an ugly stain. 

“Maybe you’re the reason why I’m sick,” you grumble, poking at where your uterus is located. “Dropping by for a week-long visit with no notice ahead of time is absolutely foul.”

You remain on the toilet, letting the blood drip out of you as you wipe the blood from your panties. Well, at least you didn’t bleed through and stain your pajama pants. You reach into the sink cabinet, searching for your pads and tampons, only to find nothing. Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, causing you to lurch forward on the toilet, peeking your head into the cabinet to double-check if you may have misplaced it somewhere.

You shake your head, in denial. “Fuck. Please tell me I didn’t forget to restock my pads and tampons,” you whisper.

“Everything alright in there, pipsqueak?” Caleb knocks on the door.

You close the sink cabinet with silent defeat, flush the toilet after wiping (a lot of wiping), fold toilet paper, and place it in your underwear as a temporary pad. You pull up your pants and underwear, waddling to the door. You crack the door open, peeking out to see Caleb and the others standing outside the bathroom door. 

You press your lips into a thin line and proceed to push past them, walking straight to your closet to pull out clean clothes to change into after your shower. It’s probably not the best idea to shower while you’re sick, but right now, it’s very much needed. You stop in your tracks, sighing. You still need to restock pads and tampons.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? You look distraught,” Sylus says, approaching you.

God, he’s so tall.

“Huh?” You blink at the Onychinus leader owlishly.

Sylus smirks, letting out an amused laugh, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You really are out of it, aren’t you?” He teases, now standing in front of you, and presses his hands against your forehead. “You shouldn’t be showering when you have a fever, kitten.”

You frown at Sylus, feeling all sorts of emotions hitting you like a brick wall. You’re angry that your period started, you’re also sad because you completely forgot to restock your tampons and pads, you’re humiliated that you stained your panties with your blood and now have to use toilet paper as a temporary pad, but you’re so tired and in so much pain.

You want to cry, but you also want to scream and obliterate the entire planet. Of all people, why you and why now? Sylus tilts his head to get a better look at your face; his gaze softens when he sees the look on your face. Before Sylus can say anything, you drop your clothes and bury your face into his chest, sighing. 

Rafayel takes a cautious step forward. “What’s wrong, cutie? It’s okay if you’re too tired to finish your soup. We won’t force you to eat,” Rafayel says softly.

You press your cheek against Sylus’s chest, peeking at Rafayel and the others with a pout. God, this is making you feel even worse. You shake your head, closing your eyes. You shudder, feeling like a stepped ketchup packet.

Xavier rubs your back, eyebrows knitted together with worry. “Please tell us what’s wrong. You seem to be doing far worse before you went to the bathroom,” Xavier pleads, pulling you away from Sylus.

“You guys know that I’m sick, right?” You mutter, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

The men around you nod, slowly migrating over to your bed.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes with your knuckle. “Well, turns out, I’m also menstruating! Yippee! Hooray! Someone please kill me and end my suffering.” You plop over on your bed and rub your temples. “Oh, and to top it all off, I completely forgot to restock my tampons and pads! Things just keep getting better and better!”

You grab your pillow, tempted to take yourself out of your misery. Instead, you hold yourself back and hug it against your chest, zoning out. Caleb makes a noise, grabbing your attention. You look over at Caleb to see him staring at his phone, stroking his chin.

“That makes sense on why I’ve been getting notifications about your menstruation cycle nearing,” Caleb says nonchalantly. 

You stare at Caleb owlishly. “You keep track of my period?” You ask with millions of questions running through your mind rapidly.

“I do too,” Rafayel says, waving his phone. “In fact, I just got notified that your period should be starting sometime this week, but it looks like it starts today! I should mark it.”

You sit up, ignoring the feeling of your blood staining your temporary “pad.” Wait, since when did they keep track of your period? 

Noticing the clueless look on your face, Zayne pats your head with a small smile. “In case you forgot, which, judging by the look on your face, you did, you wanted me to keep track of your cycle. By the looks of it, it seems like I’m not the only one who’s tracking your cycle,” Zayne says, looking over at the others.

You stare at the five men blankly, with your mouth agape, when the others show you their phone screens. You look at the ceiling, trying to recall the time when you asked them to keep track of your period. Well, at least you won’t have to worry about forgetting your impending cycle when you have five people who will notify you about it before it happens. Today, however, is different. No warning signs at all— well, maybe you getting sick is the warning of your impending menstrual cycle, and having no pads and tampons stocked in your bathroom is the worst situation to be in. 

Xavier strokes your hair. “If you want, you can go take a shower while we go to the store to buy you some pads and tampons,” Xavier murmurs, gazing at you with those adorable puppy dog eyes of his.

“If we do that, someone’s going to need to stay back and keep watch of [Y/N],” Caleb interjects, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know [Y/N] long enough to know what products she uses.”

You groan and flop over on your stomach. You can’t believe Caleb wants someone to babysit you while they go out to buy you menstrual products. You’re an adult, you can be left alone in your apartment while they’re out shopping at the nearest store. It’s not like you will bleed out and die if they leave you all by yourself. Plus, this isn’t your first rodeo as a menstruating woman, a hunter to be exact. 

After convincing all five of your lovely guests to let you be alone in your apartment while they go out to restock your menstrual products, you find yourself sitting in the shower, staring at the tiles. You watch the blood and shampoo trickle into the drain, wincing when another wave of cramps hits you. You lean against the shower wall, questioning everything. You have no idea how long you’ve been in the shower, but you truly hope that Caleb, Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus return before you’re done taking a shower.

Meanwhile…

Zayne walks to the cash register with three boxes of pads in one hand and a box of dessert from the store’s bakery in the other. Zayne stops in his tracks when he sees the other four, raising an eyebrow at them as they approach the cardiac surgeon. 

“Five boxes of tampons! [Y/N] won’t have to worry about running out of menstrual products for the next few months!” Rafayel says, looking smug.

Xavier scratches his head, holding up four boxes of both pads and tampons, each one different from the other. “I bought one of each for [Y/N]. If I remember correctly, she said her period flows tend to be different and unpredictable each month and day.”

The others nod and murmur with approval, earning a shy yet satisfied smile from Xavier. Everyone turns to look at Caleb, your childhood friend and Zayne’s childhood and maybe current love rival. 

Caleb laughs, shaking his head. “Wow, all of you went all out. I, on the other hand, got her the period essentials,” he says, holding up a shopping basket that contains pads, tampons, a couple of your favorite snacks, a heatable teddy bear, and a soft throw blanket. 

Zayne hums, mentally critiquing Caleb’s cart. Despite there being differences between Zayne and Caleb, Zayne approves of Caleb’s cart. Everyone turns to look at Sylus, who came empty-handed. Everyone’s silently judging the leader of Onychinus. Sylus chuckles, tapping on his temples before crossing his arms over his chest.

“While you all were shopping around, I put in a bulk order of pads, tampons, and wipes that will be delivered to [Y/N]’s apartment. It should be there by the time we return to her apartment,” Sylus says, glancing at the watch around his wrist.

Rafayel looks at Sylus with wide eyes, a mix of horror and awe. “Bulk order?! Are you implying [Y/N] is going to get warehouse-level type of shipments to her apartment?” Rafayel asks.

“Yes, because I don’t want her to worry about having to run back to the store to restock her menstrual products,” Sylus says nonchalantly, propping his hands on his hips. 

Caleb scrutinizes Sylus, propping one hand on his hip. “Where did you get the money to do all of this, Sylus?”

Sylus smiles, waving off the skeptical looks thrown his way. “I’m just a fruit vendor with a very successful business, that is all.”

- 15 Minutes Later -

You shut off the water and grab your towel, wrapping it around your body. You stand in the shower, debating whether you should step out and get dressed or wait for the others to return with pads and tampons. A knock on the bathroom door interrupts your thoughts, making you nearly cry out in relief. Oh, thank goodness you won’t have to make a temporary pad out of toilet paper!

You leave the shower and walk to the door, unlocking it. You crack the door open and take a peek. Zayne, Caleb, Rafayel, and Xavier are holding bags of pads and tampons. No Sylus in sight. 

Noticing your questioning gaze, Zayne gestures to the door leading to the living room. “Sylus is stocking your storage room. You’ll understand when you’re done with your shower,” Zayne says. 

You sigh in relief. You thanked the four men before grabbing a random bag from one of their hands, closing the door, and getting dressed. After changing and securing your underwear, you unlock and open the bathroom door. Caleb helps you with restocking the pads and tampons in your bathroom while Xavier and Rafayel help Zayne with throwing the boxes away.

“Where is Sylus?” You mutter, closing the sink cabinet door.

Caleb shrugs. “Probably still stocking up the storage room,” Caleb replies. 

Caleb wraps his arm around your shoulders before leaving the bathroom with you. When you and Caleb step into the living room, you stop in your tracks when you see Xavier, Zayne, and Rafayel helping Sylus stock your apartment storage room. You look at Caleb, who shrugs in response to your questioning gaze. 

You leave Caleb’s side, approaching the four men while trying to peek from their shoulders to see what they’re doing. Xavier and Rafayel move out of the way for you to look; your eyes nearly pop out of your skull after seeing your storage room, once empty, now completely full of boxes of pads, tampons, and wet wipes.

You look at Sylus, who reminds you of a smug cat showing his owner his successful hunt. “This was your doing, wasn’t it?” You ask.

“Well, of course it is, sweetie. I don’t want you to worry about restocking your menstrual products for the next few months. If you happen to use up the entire stock, then you can always let me know, and I will have them restocked in no time,” Sylus says.

Next few months?! You look back at the storage room, filled to the brim with boxes of pads, tampons, and wipes. Maybe it’s your period that’s making you emotional, or the fact that these men care about you so much that they would go out of their way to buy as many boxes of pads and tampons for you, you find it very touching. You can’t help but tear up at the sweet gesture, causing mass panic among the five men.

“Cutie, why are you crying?! You’re not in pain, are you!?” Rafayel asks, grabbing you by the shoulders and staring at you with pure panic.

You laugh and cover your face, bending over to avoid their worried stares. Rafayel looks at the others, unsure of what to do aside from pulling you into his arms and cradling you, patting your back. You wipe the tears running down your cheeks and let yourself loosen up in Rafayel’s arms, sighing.

“What do you want to do now, pipsqueak? Do you want to finish your food now or later?” Caleb trails off, stroking your hair.

You continue clinging to Rafayel, peeking over at the untouched (and most likely cold) soup. “Can we watch a movie first? I’m not really in the mood to eat right now. Maybe I’ll be hungry after we finish a movie,” you mutter, peeking at Caleb and the others.

Each man agreed to your proposal and began setting the living room up for the impromptu movie night. When everyone starts to settle down for the movie, they all leave space for you to sit next to them—lots of space. You prop your hands on your hips, unsure of where to sit, while these men subtly glare at each other. 

“Can you guys scoot a little closer?” You ask, gesturing for everyone to move in.

Caleb, Sylus, Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel reluctantly scoot closer to each other. When they stop to look at you, you shake your head with disapproval and continue to gesture for them to move closer. Once they’re finally sitting side by side, thighs touching, you nod with approval. You grab the throw blanket that Caleb bought for you and drape the blanket over their laps, ignoring the confused stares thrown your way. You grab a plushie that works as a pillow and place it on Sylus’s lap. You walk to the light switch, turn the living room lights off before returning to where the others are waiting for you, still confused about what you’re plotting. On your way back, you grab the spare plush blanket that hangs from the armrest of the sofa. This is probably the most you’ve moved around since returning from your solo mission. 

You briefly sit on Zayne’s lap before lying down on everyone’s lap. If these men want to fight over who gets to sit beside you while watching the movie, you might as well make them your bed. You lay your head on the plushie pillow on Sylus’s lap, draping your blanket over your body.

Rafayel frowns. “Hey, how come I’m the only one with the short end of the stick?” Rafayel mutters, lightly tickling your feet, making you jolt.

You peek at Rafayel with a playful glare. “Don’t worry, Rafayel. I’ll be switching positions when we start watching another movie after this one,” you reply, getting comfortable. 

About twenty minutes into the movie, you slowly start to doze off. There are many times when you try to force yourself to stay awake during the first few minutes of the movie. But the more the movie drags on, you can’t help but slowly fall asleep. You’re so comfortable: fresh out of the shower, wearing cozy pajamas, lying on top of Sylus, Caleb, Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel’s lap with a blanket over you. 

You don’t mind spending your vacation and sick days like this as long as you’re surrounded by the people who cherish you and care about you. Right when you succumb to your slumber, you feel someone press a kiss on your head, and more kisses soon follow after the first.

Note: I can't believe that this is my second fanfic for Love&Deepspace and the next fic is going to be smut 😭 One of my ideas for the smut was going to be based on the Tomorrow Catch-22 memories, but then that (the fic) ended up being the complete opposite of the event and the memories. So, I'm probably going to scrap that idea and come up with a new one for the upcoming smut-fic for my LADS series. If you're interested in joining my Discord server, the invite to my Discord server can be found [HERE]! The Discord server invite links will be different every time I post a new fanfic, and these links have expiration dates. It's a relatively chill server, which I like because the server nearly crashed when it was first created. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[illustrious-slimeman]

The time for posting this year's GOMM reverse bang has finally begun, thanks to @go-minisode-minibang and I can finally share my contribution!

I had the privilege of working with two authors this go-around, and the first fic has been posted today! The other is slated to post at the end of August, so I'll be including a link to that as well once it's up.

In the meantime, please check out Desperado on Ao3 by the lovely @the-ineffable-dance

When Crowley invites Aziraphale to join him in Arizona, 1881, the angel is only to happy to accept. In addition to the excitement of seeing each other again after such a long absence, Crowley promised to show Aziraphale something amazing, and the angel can hardly wait. But when he sees the accommodations for the night are in a brothel, he starts to question Crowley's motives.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you have any rules for requests?

Thank you for asking and respecting my boundaries!

I do have some that I've started over the course of running this and other writing blogs:

1. I will not write overly Gore, Yandere, or Rape. I might have implied it or have it offscreen in a quick one sentence passage, but these themes make me uncomfortable, so I don't make them main topics. If you send in a request, I'll likely post it with a rejection notice so that others who see it might be willing to pick it up. The only time I won't is if the ask is rude/too detailed.

2. As a personal choice, I don't really enjoy writing multiple crossovers. This means I like to stick to the DC or DP universe's for this blog. Occasionally, I might use elements of a third option, but it's really hard for me to make it work since I'm not putting in an honest effort.

3. My blog has blanket permission on all prompts/chats/requests as long as I'm credited for the original. If you want to reblog and add more, you can. If you want to write an extended fic on another website, you can. If you want to draw based on something I wrote, you can. If you want to post it on tick tok with a voice reader, you can. If you would link me so I can geek out about it, please do so.

4. I don't do tag lists because they are too much of a hassel to keep an eye on. I also don't like seeing such a big wall of usernames. I try to keep my master post organized with the latest updated date on there if you would like to follow the Aus and find all the parts. The index will show you where each Au is organized.

5. I'm twenty-seven years old (I have no money, no prospects, I'm a burn to my parents, and im frighten). This means that while I don't mind getting NSFW asks or implied NSFW jokes/writes, I ask that if your underage DO NOT send them in. It's for both your safety and mine that you don't interact with that material until you're older. (I think I'll post the NSFW stuff on Ao3 as suggested)

6. I'm a multi-shipper. Since none of these charaters are real, I am known for moving them around and changing their circumstances to make pairs. My favorite genres in writing is fantasy and romance, so if you don't like a ship, please understand that it won't stop me from writing it. Unless requested for a gen fic in the ask, I will change almost all prompts into romance because I like reading/writing that kind of stuff.

That's all I can think of on the top of my head. If you sent in an ask and haven't seen it yet, it's because I haven't gotten the time to answer it.

Currently, I am behind by a lot in my inbox but that's mostly due to my final for my 16 week course, my work's audit and end of the fiscal year budget, I have five close family graduations, two weddings and one baby shower all crammed into the same month of May.

I'm also suffering from a bit of writer's blog on some aus.

But I swear I will get to your asks as soon as I can. I'll jump around to try to get past the writer's blog, but once things calm down, I'll go back to the order in which I received the asks.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living AU Hub

Hello! Welcome to my AU, Lives Worth Living! Spoilers for the full game and two hats below the break.

Quick introduction to the concept of this AU:

It's been 30 years since the events of the game. The party eventually disbanded to form their own lives, though remaining in each other's now and again at least. They are all together for the first time in several years... and sadly the last, as Odile lay in her deathbed. She lived a full life, it's natural causes, at least they're all together again. As everyone gathers around for her final moments, and she closes her eyes for good, Sif suddenly feels a tug on his sto-

Hard cut to 30 years ago, the day just after the events of the game.

And that's pretty much all you need to know going in! Only other thing worth mentioning is pretty much all option content is canon in this AU, especially two hats... ESPECIALLY two hats.

I AM FINALLY PORTING THIS FIC TO AO3! YOU CAN FIND A LINK TO IT HERE!

I don't know how long it will take to port everything over, and I will be posting chapters normally here in the mean time, but expect a large restructuring once I finish porting it over! Also I am renaming the Siffrin chapters to 'Reprise of Stardust' and collectively calling the fic Lives Worth Living over there.

OFFICIAL RECOMENDED READ ORDER

[S-1] [S0] [S1] [S2] [S3] [S4] [S5] [V1] [V2-4] [V5] [S6] [V6] [S7] [S8] [S9] [S10] [V7-10] [S11] [V11] [S12] [V12] [V13] [V14] [S13] [S14] [S15][S16] [V15] [V16] [S17] [S18] [V17] [V18] [S19] [V19] [V20] [S20] [V21] [V22] [V23] [S21-23] [S24] [V24] [S25] [V25] [V26] [V27] [S26-28] [V28] [V29] [S29] [S30] [V30] [V31] [S31] [S32] [V32] [V33] [S33] [V34] [S34] [S35] [V35] [V36] [S36] [V37]

Siffrin Chapters (Lives Worth Living)

[-1] [0] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21-23] [24] [25] [26-28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36]

Loop Vale Chapters (Behind the Vale)

[1] [2-4] [5] [6] [7-10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37]

If you're wondering why Loop is crossed out and Vale is in it's place, it will make sense by chapter 7-10, otherwise all you need to know is these are Loop's side of things. Text in Red represents duplicate lines between it and it's complimentary chapter, to let you know where it lines up with the other perspective without needing to repeat tons of lines.

Memories (First 30 Years)

[A Kiss] [Lost Letters]

Links to asks, lore posts, and art/fanart posts can be found here

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

LWLAU Hub Extras

LWLAU Art/Fanart Hub

If anyone wants to join the discord server, please send me a DM and I'll invite you! I'd rather not have the link posted publicly to avoid scammers/bots.

Special thanks to Lea for making this amazing website! It helps fuel the angst so well with the death screen gifs I've been generating at the end of some early chapters!~

[dixonsdarkelf]

Flattery: Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader

Prompt: Themed Lingerie

Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors

Word count: 600 words

Warnings: No use of y/n, suggestive themes but no smut

Main masterlist Daryl x Reader Masterlist AO3 link

I'm finally dipping my toes into the world of Character x Reader writing. This is my first time writing in second person/x reader format, so please go easy on me or I'll cry. I'm posting this before I stare at it for too long and change my mind.

Part 2

A massive thank you to @dixons-sunshine for proofreading, helping with translating Daryl's dialogue into Daryl, giving me tips, and encouraging me to do it/post it. I love you sm 🖤

“Daryl? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Cocking an eyebrow, you looked past your shoulder at him, your new boyfriend’s eyes quickly averting once he realized he’d been caught.

With winter setting in and temperatures beginning to drop in Virginia, the two of you had been sent on a run to a nearby department store, your goal to find coats, boots, blankets, and whatever sort of winter necessities you could get your hands on. Amongst all the cold-weather attire, you’d found a little something hot for yourself.

“Dunno what ya talkin�� ‘bout,” he mumbled, his normal sun-kissed complexion becoming one akin to a fresh tomato.

Your gaze dropped to the material in your hands, your fingers dancing over the satin cups, and a small smirk crossed your lips. You were holding a set of Christmas lingerie—a babydoll style two-piece. The red cups and mesh of the flyaway bodice were bordered with a fluffy white trim that trailed down the center with a red thong to accompany it.

“Ah, I see,” you teased, your cheeks beginning to heat up as you held up the garment, “this why?”

You’d only been together for a few weeks, the farthest you’d gone in terms of anything physically being a heated make-out session with little hand exploration. You’d been itching for things to move further but not wanting to push any boundaries. Daryl was clearly skittish and uncomfortable in the realm of sex and romance. However, unbeknownst to you, he’d been itching for the same.

He pictured the mesh flowing around your hips as you twirled before him and the thong sliding over your thighs and falling to your ankles. His signature small smile appeared as he pictured your eyes glossed over with lust and thought about what every inch of your soft skin felt like in his work-worn hands. He was reveling in this sweet little daydream, and you’d caught him in it.

“It’s ok, Daryl. I’m flattered.” As you walked back to him, you purposely swayed your hips a little extra, drawing the archer’s eyes to them for just a moment. Yours fell to your feet, that sweet heat returning to your cheeks again.

“Flattered?” He sounded surprised by your choice of words, like you couldn’t possibly be flattered by his longing gaze and the lewd thoughts you knew he was having. Despite having finally made your relationship official after months of going in circles, he was confused by sparkle in your eye he’d caught a glimpse of when you first looked back at him.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been…thinking about it too,” you assured, lashes fluttering as you brought your gaze up from the floor to meet his ocean eyes, “hinting at it for a while now. Hasn’t it been kind of obvious?”

The silence from him was loud, deafening as it practically echoing off the white walls. That alone was an answer enough for you.

A sweet giggle emanated from the depths of your chest, the sound like music to your man’s ears. “Okay, maybe not so obvious. I adore you, but you can be incredibly dense sometimes.”

“Grab the coats,” Daryl instructed, clearly flustered as he haphazardly gestured to a box on a nearby table. He was beginning to turn red again, somehow an even darker shade than he had before. He grabbed a box from off the floor and was quickly heading toward the front door. “Talk when we get back.”

“Talk…right…” you mused, a chuckle slipping past your lips as you stowed the lingerie away in your bag, “I’m sure that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

GIF & © message below were made by me. Sparkle & 'continue reading' dividers are by @/anitalenia

[ruthlessness69]

The Man and the Sea (Epic the musical fanfic)

main ship: Poseidon x Odysseus

(English is not my first language, please keep it in mind)

notes:

• It's the first part of the beginning. I don't have an AO3 account yet, once I get it I'll post it there and share a link 🩵 (upd. the link is ready!!)

• I know that gods' blood is called "ichor", I just wanted to stated out that it's blood. And it was red in Epic, so I'm kinda sticking to that source.

• I want to say a big THANK YOU to those who helped me with corrections!! You rock, guys 😍

• I guess I should note that the fic is R-18?? Idk how to rate it correctly yet, please feel free to correct me in the comments. Okay, let's go :>

part 1.

🌊🌊🌊

- After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?

- Next to my wife.

***

He said it and left, finally he's reached his shore. The shore which was consuming god's blood at the moment. Poseidon was lying still, spread out, his feet couldn't move and the blood was running free from all his wounds. He couldn't die, that's true, he could feel pain though. It was burning through him, pulsating, unstoppable. He was defeated by his own weapon and by his own philosophy, which was even more painful.

A hoarse laugh bursted out of his throat.

- You've become the one you were destined to, just as I thought. You never came home the same. It's no longer you.

***

Late at night Odysseus had a long neverending nightmare. Styx. His dead comrade's cries. Water. The water was everywhere, it was surrounding him, pulling him in. Poseidon. He was dragging him down, to the bottom, there was no escape. Trying to reach the surface, Odysseus was ripping off his shoes, his clothes, he was ready to rip off his legs and arms, and his very skin, anything to be set free from this torture.

- Enough... stop!!

King of Ithaca was suddenly wide awake in his bed. The sound of the tidel waters filled the silence of the night. A peaceful, unhurried whisper coming from Penelope took him back to reality.

- Honey, sleep a bit, sleep a bit more. It's okay, you're home.

Penelope wasn't fully awake, she was talking in her sleep, she was already used to her husband's nightmares after two years and didn't have to be fully conscious to calm him down and carress him back to sleep.

Odysseus slipped out of the bed and went to the balcony.

The sea is always near. It surrounds you everywhere.

The surf was licking the sand of the shore, waves were coming down still and quite, over and over again. But Odysseus knew the quite was deceiving.

Did he really stab Poseidon with his own trident? Or was it all just a bad dream? Was he really at home? Or did he drown after god's final attack? Could this all be just his agony before he finally dies?

- When will you stop torturing me, - Odysseus hid his face in his arms, covering it, whispering curses and prayers.

The surf seemed to talk to him. But Odysseus didn't know the language it was talking in. He had no intention to talk to the sea god. He didn't care about what he has to say.

He came back to his wife's arms, coming back to have some more anxious sleep before the dawn.

The surf was slowly turning into a storm, but it couldn't wake Odysseus up anymore.

***

He didn't go sailing anymore. Their son was inviting him once or twice or more, but Odysseus wouldn't even go near the beach, let alone go to the ship. Penelope could sense that there was something more than just a phobia. He made it home, but something was broken deep inside of him. He mentioned his last encounter with Poseidon once, briefly, one night he told her that he won a battle wth the sea god before finally coming back home. Penelope was a really smart and delicate woman, she didn't have to interrogate her husband to feel the depth of his pain. She guessed that that very moment was something that changed Odysseus, something he perceived as horrible. She could constantly feel his fear. And yet she couldn't help him, she didn't know how to. She couldn't even tell what was it that he was so afraid of. At first glance, it seemed to be the fear of water. The ocean. But... no, it might be different. Penelope didn't want to push any more pressure on him, so she just decided to be near him without taking any action. Some wounds should just heal, right? By themselves.

***

Poseidon's wounds were healing slowly and reluctantly. The trident was a formidable weapon, but yet it couldn't hurt Odysseus. What a bullshit. Might be someone's divine intervention, no doubt. The god of the seas didn't ask for Apollo's help, so that he wouldn't have to listen to other Olympus inhabitants laugh. And when Hermes brought some medicine from the god of healing, all those flasks were thrown aiming him right in the head.

- My dearest uncle, you simply can't hold grudges for that long, they'd all gone sore, - the impudent god teased him, dodging with ease. Dexterous, as always.

- How dare you show up here?!

- Oh thank you, I'm glad you've noticed my audacity, - the messenger of gods gave out a little laugh. - And still. You can't be THAT mad at my great grandson. I suppose you aren't that mad for a couple of years already. I can't even imagine how you could stand being mad and furious for so long!

- Who would've thought, you're too flippant, just like Aeolus, - Poseidon spitted, wrinkling up from a sudden pain in his chest.

- Still water turns into a swamp, dear uncle. But you're never still, right? Always raging. Why didn't you kill Odysseus?

The question was so sudden and plain, it knocked the ground out of Poseidon's feet, although he never really needed it in the first place.

- You were threatening him, but never really went too far and never actually did anything to him, - Hermes was smiling cunningly, moving everything around in Poseidon's chamber.

- The fate was on your impertinent great grandson's side, - the sea god growled.

- Yeah, that's right, your son knew it long before, - Hermes chuckled, turning around on his toes. - But!

- But what?

- You were competent to find him and kill him anytime you wanted. But you were always hesitating. You wasted so much time and affort in declaring your philosophy and expressing your rage, you even killed lots of his flee, but not him. And also, - Hermes squinted his eyes and smiled really slyly. - You were the one to throw him at Calypso's. You placed him in paradise. What were you up to, master of the seas?

Poseidon wasn't famous for his temperance, so he immediately reached for his trident.

- Oopsie, gotta go! - Hermes giggled, flying out of the chambers. - You just think about all that, Uncle Poseidon~

The trident was thrown into the wall. Poseidon had no intention on thinking about anything. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to know anything, to Tartarus with it all.

***

The sea is different everyday, but it always remains to be the sea. At times the water is sparkly and shiny, going from light turquoise to deep ocean blue, sometimes nearly black, and at times it's muddy and brown because of the dirt and mud being raised up from the bottom. The sea never hides it's secrets, they are just lurking down below. They are always ready to come up to the surface and be a shocking surprise to anybody. The sea was hiding lots of skeletons of the past and also lots of treasures. And it was completely ruthless.

Telemachus really loved being in the open sea and feeling the unity with this force, playing with it, making it obey or obeying himself to it, surrending to the waves. Finally, he was no longer a boy who couldn't even protect his mom. Finally, he was living his own story! And the sea was way more easy on him in this story than it's been in his father's one, although it was unexpected. Even storms seemed to just frighten him a little bit, but never really touched him or his crew. He once told his dad about it, which made dad froze up for a moment, like a statue, then his face expression's changed as if some kind of shadow layed between his eyes. Telemachus could not help but notice it although it lasted just for seconds. And then his father just chucked, returning to his usual expression - sly, but a bit tired. He said nothing regarding the situation, just told Telemachus to keep his guard up nevertheless. The son always looked up to his father, and also he was really fond of the stories about his journeys. Although dad wasn't really fond of telling them. Usually it was someone else retelling of retelling, going from one teller to another. It wasn't easy for Odysseus to tell stories about a journey where all his people and friends died.

A salty splash of water covered Telemachus face. He just laughed.

- He doesn't like sailing anymore, but I think he just needs time, - Odysseus' son smiled, looking at the waves dancing.

He was heading for places from father's stories. He was intending to make a path through the land of the Cyclops, and Odysseus knew nothing about his intentions. Telemachus didn't want his dad to have a heart attack, so he simply didn't tell him a thing.

***

His hot tongue was sliding down the wet salty skin. Sharp teeth stuck into the neck, pressing the flesh, digging in, but not biting it to blood. After a long trembling sigh the pressure on the neck went down and the tongue licked the place of the bite as if in apology.

Odysseus' body was melting in these arms like a malleable metal in Hephaestus' forge. The king of Ithaca was only able to make some fuzzy moans while hands and arms and other body parts of the sea god touched him. Everywhere. He was everywhere, just like the water. He was enshrouding and pulling him deep down. Poseidon was teasing Odysseus with his touch, claws, mouth, teeth, almost like a hungry animal. As if he wanted to devour him but couldn't. Almost suffocating, finally Odysseus found the strength to raise his arms and took the god's face into his palms, making him distance himself from his neck for once.

- Posei...don, - the mortal breathed out hoarsely.

His neck and collarbones were glowing red after all the bites, the blood could be seen in some places. It was oddly oozing up and to the sides - after all, they were underwater.

- You know this will never ever happen, right? - asked Odysseus with a light and exhausted smile, caressing Poseidon's face softly.

The god stumbled in for a second and just kissed his mortal as tough and deep as he could, leaving the question unanswered. He was drowning Odysseus in this kiss without realising that he's drowning too, with him.

Poseidon suddenly woke up right at the moment when Odysseus' hand touched his tunic between his legs. He burst his eyes wide and gave out a heavy groan, realising it was only just a dream. A damn dream. He slept a lot recently, he was still recovering. And this damn dreams... they were haunting him every time he went to sleep for quite some time already. Sometimes he was dreaming about Odysseus' life on the land, and sometimes... sometimes this. Passion, neverending mind-numbing passion. And the obedient pliable mortal who was happily giving up his body to him. Poseidon covered his face with his hand, trying to catch his breath and clear his mind.

If only Hermes didn't come here with his stupid questions. "Why didn't you kill him, why-why".

He was not interested in these dreams. It all was some kind of delusion, a bullshit. He'd forget about it once he recovered. Maybe he's been alone for too long. Maybe there's a point to seek some pleasures outside the sea? No, the only thought of it made him sick.

He had to get rid of these dreams and thoughts. One of the supreme deities surely had much more important stuff to do.

Feeling dizzy, Poseidon layed back down in his bed. He rolled around and closed his eyes. He would never in his life admit it, but he was trying to recreate the sensations he had in that dream. Odysseus' skin, Odysseus' scent. Why wasn't he stabbing him again in these dreams? Why was this mortal making him feel the indelible shame again and again?

- Odysseus, - the god mumbled, hiding his face in sea satin and nacreous sheets.

Nobody could see him in his private chamber, nobody could even visit him cause he himself strictly forbade it. He didn't want to see anyone. And no one would see him as he was right now.

Pathetic, wounded, vulnerable, just like a mortal.

Slowly falling back to sleep the sea god was hoping in the very depth of his heart that he'd dream of the king of Ithaca again.

to be continued

[alienseasfanfics]

Friction - Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you're targeted by a violent stalker, Sam Wilson hires Bucky Barnes to guard you in an isolated safe house. This causes tension as you both get on each others nerves in an increasingly dangerous situation. But, you slowly come to realize you're more alike than you thought. Will it be too late when you finally let yourself trust him?

Word Count (for Part 1): 2.3k

Tags: Slowburn, reluctant attraction, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, bodyguard, hired to protect, fluff and angst, nightmares and comfort, eventual smut, reluctant attraction.

T/W: Some non-graphic depictions of violence, guns, eventual smut.

A/N: Hello. This will be just a few parts. I'm envisioning 5. Who knows though. Will be posted on my AO3 as well (linked here). Also, feel free to send short one-shot requests. I may not answer them all but if one inspires me, I'll write. Enjoy!

“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to sprint down the hill into oncoming traffic.”

“There is no oncoming traffic.”

“I’ll keep running until I find some.”

“Good luck.”

“Shut up.” You mutter, taking another swig of your coffee. Bucky Dumbass Barnes leans against the porch railing, watching you. You flip him off and he rolls his eyes, looking instead at the dirt road ahead.

The day is calm and cicadas are buzzing loudly. You draw your knees up to your chest as you watch the wind play with the grass, making it flatten and swirl into ever-changing circles.

It’s so incredibly boring out here, away from the city. There’s no coffee shops, or long walks down busy streets, or movie theatres. The lack of movie theatres hurts the most.

All you want to do is sit with people, too many people, anonymously sharing a laugh or a cry in a dark room. Free people don’t appreciate the amount of community that is shared within the walls of a theatre. The insight gleaned from hearing their murmurs to their friends about the attractiveness of the actors or the stupidity of the dialogue. You miss connecting with them and feeling, finally, like one of them. Anonymously. With the ability to leave afterwards, free to go about your business.

But now, all you do is watch the grass as Bucky watches you. Solely because of one stupid person with an obsession.

You chug the rest of your coffee and get up, limping past Bucky and letting the screen door slam behind you. He huffs, but you couldn’t care less.

The safe house has a rudimentary kitchen. Though, fancier than your own due to the coffee machine Sam brought as an apology for forcing you here. As you start another cup of coffee, you tap the counter with a finger. Sam said this would only be for a month. Just until they found out how He was tracking you. Then you could go back to your blissful anonymity in New York.

That is, if they could even find who He is.

That’s the flip side of the coin. You can disappear, until someone wants to find you. Then, it’s all that much easier for them to never appear to you at all, except when they want to.

The little voice in the back of your head whispers his name to you, but you close your eyes and silence it. He’s gone. He must be.

The coffee drips from the machine. It’s been overworked the past two weeks, both from you trying to cling on to whatever sense of normalcy you’ve cultivated outside of this house, and from Bucky trying to stay awake.

How long did Bucky say he was going to stay here for? Couldn’t have been more than a month. He’s always been sick of you within the hour in past missions. It’s a miracle he’s still around two weeks in. Once he’s decided he’s done, you can go back. Or when whatever Sam bribed him with is gone. And then, who else does Sam trust enough to know where the safe house is? He barely let you know. You’ll be going back in no time.

Sure, there’s a homicidal maniac after you, leaving traps that have caught you twice already and broken your leg both times, but now that you know his M.O. you can catch him. You’ve handled yourself before, who’s to say you can’t again?

The coffee machine beeps, and you take a sip from the cup. Your bad leg twinges, angry at supporting you for this long, and you grit your teeth. Your own body doesn’t believe in you. That’s a tough pill to swallow.

The screen door slams again as Bucky comes inside.

“There’s no more coffee.” You mutter, and he reaches into the cupboard by the door and pulls out a bag. Opening it, he comes over to the machine to refill, and you move gingerly out of the way. He doesn’t notice, or care, and continues.

“This is the last bag, though. We’ll have to go into town to get more.” He says to the coffee machine.

“I don’t think it’ll answer you.” You say.

“You don’t want me looking at you. I’m happy to grant that request.”

“I don’t want you watching me. That’s very different.”

“You’ll have to get used to me doing that.”

“Not for much longer.”

“Thank god. You’re the most irritating woman I’ve ever met. I don’t know who’s stalking you, but it must be the only person in the world who could put up with your bullshit.”

“At least someone can put up with mine. I don’t think anyone can handle this long with you.”

“I’m okay with not having a psycho leaving bombs on my doorstep.”

“My balcony. He left them on my balcony.”

“Touchey. Or however the fuck you say it.”

“Touché.”

He rolls his eyes, not answering you and instead methodically glancing over the sparse living room. After two weeks you know what he looks at. The boarded up back door, the windows with trip-wires stretched across the sills, the cameras blinking red and pointed at every egress point. If he wasn’t such an ass, you’d be impressed by the level of care he’s putting into his job. You know it’s just about the money, though. Money that’s quickly running out.

“How much did Sam pay for?”

“Coffee? Two months supply. You’ve been drinking it like the damned Energizer bunny, though.”

“No, your money. For your ‘services’, or whatever you call the peeping tom bullshit.”

He closes his eyes and sets his jaw. His neck muscle flexes beneath his collar. You’d think it was attractive if it wasn’t his jaw.

“That was one time. I knocked, and you didn’t answer. I told you to always answer. I didn’t ‘peep’ at anything, anyway.” He finally says after a minute of counting.

“You’re not my keeper.”

“For the next two weeks, I am. And then it some other poor idiots job to watch you.”

That makes you freeze, putting your coffee down.

“What?” You say, and he glances over at you.

“What, you want me to stay now?”

“No! What do you mean someone else will be watching me?”

“Well, if Sam and them don’t find Him, you’ll still need to stay here.” He’s talking slowly, as if talking to a particularly dumb child.

“That wasn’t the agreement. Sam said a month.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Sam. Besides, you want to go back there? Back to your apartment, that He knows about? Hell, He knows the security camera blindspots. And you want to waltz back in like everything is fine?” Now, he’s looking at you. You really hate it when he does that. He seems to always be studying you, picking you apart with his ice-cold eyes. It makes your heart jump into your throat.

You break the eye contact by looking into your coffee.

“I just want to go home.” You finally say into its dregs. You swallow the rest of it, putting it on the counter harder than you meant to. “I’m taking a shower. Try not to come in, weirdo.”

“Easy enough.” He mutters as you walk up the stairs.

- - -

That night, you’re running.

You don’t need to look behind you to know He’s there. You’re barefoot again, running on the rough cement of the lab, scraping your bare skin against the walls as you round the corners of the never-ending basement prison. The burn from your wounds is nothing to the one in your head. It’s making your vision blurry and your eyes red-hot, and you know he’s closing in on you.

Sprinting now, the lights behind you close one by one with an electric thud, like a giants footsteps getting closer to stomping on you by the second.

Thud. You’re blinking back fire. Thud. Your heart is giving out.

Thud. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine as he finally-

Crash. You startle awake, a scream still ripping through your throat. You grab the closest thing to you -another coffee cup- and throw it towards the door that just smashed open. It narrowly misses a barely clothed Bucky as he ducks backward.

“Fuck!” He shouts, “Don’t surprise the guy with a gun! Gun safety 101!”

You notice now that he is holding one, its metal nose glinting off the moonlight coming through the bent blinds. His steel fingers share the same gleam.

“Don’t break into a sleeping woman’s room!” Is the only thing you can manage to yell back, turning away from him to wipe hot tears from your face quickly.

“I think the fact you were screaming loud enough to wake the dead is reason enough to come in here! I told you to not lock this door, by the way, so the whole breaking and entering thing is your fault.” He barks.

“Shut up, Bucky.” You whisper.

“Is someone in here? Why were you screaming?” The floor creaks under him as he steps into the room, looking around the corners.

“No one is in here, just go back to bed.” You’re gripping the mattress now, trying to calm down. He’s not making it any easier as he stops to stand behind you. There’s a soft ting of a bullet hitting the ground as he uncocks the gun, but he doesn’t leave.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes I did.”

“I’m glad you know how to count.” You need to breathe. 1, 2, 3- shit. 1, 2- shit! Do you know how to count?

“There were two questions.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you almost think he’s left until he speaks again.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?”

“Because I need to be.” You say breathlessly. Running a hand through your hair you stand up shakily, moving around the bed and going to the door. He’s standing in front of the doorway, not moving. In the dim light of the moon, the only part of him not shrouded in shadow is his metal arm. You try to avoid looking at it, knowing somewhere deep down that he hides it from you for a reason, with long sleeves even in the harshest sunlight. But the only other place to look is his chest or his face, which makes your cheeks feel hot even now. You settle on looking down at the bullet on the ground between you both.

“I need some water.” You murmur after a moment of him staring down at you.

“You need to answer me.”

“Please, Bucky.” You plead. Your defences fall for just a moment, but your lungs are starting to collapse. The world is starting to swim, and you’re not sure if its panic, tears, or the pain in your leg screaming at you to sit back down. Whichever one, you really don’t want Bucky to see it.

“Go back in bed. I’ll get it for you.” His voice is calm now. Quieter. Exhausted, the only answer you can manage is a nod, doing as you’re told and laying back down. You stare at the crack in the blinds and try to blink away tears as you listen to him rummaging in the kitchen.

He comes back too soon. He sets the glass on the nightstand behind you, but you don’t hear him leave. Sighing, you turn around, and finally look at him in the face.

His eyebrows are knit together, and as he looks at you, you can feel him studying you again. This time your stomach flutters.

You break eye contact again, sitting up and sipping the water quietly.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“Sorry for crashing in.”

“Sorry for screaming.”

“Not for the coffee mug?”

“I’ve been wanting to do that.”

You flick your eyes up at him, and you think for a moment you see a smile, but it quickly falls away once he looks in your eyes. You both look at each other for a second, two, three, before its his turn to break contact. He runs his metal hand through his tousled hair, glancing down at his gun, the bed, the window, anywhere but you.

“When I, hmm.” He takes a deep breath. “When I have a bad night, I have to ground myself.”

“Ground yourself? Like a naughty kid?”

“No.” He pinches the skin between his eyes. “My senses. Y’know. Five things I see, three things I hear, one thing I feel. Until I calm down.”

“Oh.”

“Are you still on edge?” He glances down at your free hand gripping the mattress. You loosen it.

“I guess.”

“Do you want me to stay in here?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to stay in here. To...watch over you.” He’s still looking away from you.

“Aren’t you already doing that? Hence the gun?”

He rolls his eyes.

“If you don’t want me to, I’ll just-”

“Yeah. If you can. Stay here, that is.” The permission comes from a part of you that you’ve shoved down. Or thought you shoved down. Now, it’s speaking from the middle of your throat, stealing any breath you have with it.

He finally looks at you again, then slowly nods.

“Okay. I can. Let me grab a blanket.” He walks out of the room, and you’re finally able to breathe again.

Laying back down, you try to ground yourself. You see the armchair across from the foot of your bed, the window, the bent blinds, the broken patch of ceiling above you, the barely touched glass of water on the nightstand. You hear the croon of an owl outside, the orchestra of a grasshopper, the creak of the floorboards as Bucky comes back in. Closing your eyes, you try to focus on sleep.

You feel Bucky’s warm hand brushing against your skin as he pulls your blanket up to cover you, leaving you cold when he moves away.

Your muscles relax as you hear him settle into the armchair. Inexcusably, your brain tells you, he calms you. Happily, your heart slows, letting you fall into a dreamless sleep.

[potatoplace]

Yearly Traditions

Starfall Week: Colors (day 1) @starfallweek

Azriel x Rhys's-Sister!Reader

Starfall Week 2025 Masterlist | ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | AO3 Link

Summary: You spend the first few minutes of every Starfall alone, waiting to see which color will dominate your life for the upcoming year.

Warnings: None!

Words: 781

Author's Note: I'm so glad I was able to get this out before work! I'll have it posted on AO3 later tonight. I hope you guys like this! Just cute fluffiness with baby Az with CURLY HAIR. CURLY HAIRED AZ SUPREMACY. Lemme know what you think!! 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍💙✨💙🤍

You were perched in a tree, eagerly watching the night sky above you.

It was a tradition that you had started for yourself, watching the first few minutes of Starfall alone.

It had started ten years ago, when the rest of your family, Rhys included, had attended Starfall in the Hewn City in order to appease the citizens there. You had been left behind at the Moonstone Palace, and as such had spent the evening staring at the cosmic event, soaking in your bathing pool.

The main color you had seen that year had been orange, beautiful streaks darting across the sky, one spirit even falling across your face as you watched.

That year, you had gained more freedom in your life, you father having finally allowed you to spend time at Windhaven while Rhys and your mother were living there.

The next year, the most common color streaking across the sky in your eyes was green - you had spent the year becoming in tune with nature, your powers of starlight having finally come into your body. You spent most of your nights embroidering in the moonlight, losing yourself in the beauty of the night.

The year after that? Red spirits had flown across the sky in droves. The color had brought you strength as you finally learned to fly without another having to be near you, allowing you to experience the way that your brother - and his new friends - had always flown.

Every year, the main color your eyes picked up had set the scene for your life.

This year was no different, and you were waiting with bated breath as the first bright spirits began to cross the sky.

You wanted - no, needed to know what your year would have in store for you.

Blues, purples, greens, and yellows shot across the sky as you watched with fascination, ears picking up on the cheers of Illyrians, closer to the center of camp.

You would join them soon, just as soon as you knew what color would dominate your life this year.

Tiny spirits shot down, coloring the tree branches around you, and few splatters streaking through your hair. You let out a giggle at the bright colors, holding out your hand for a pink spirit to glide across your skin before rejoining its brethren in the sky.

You turned your eyes back to the shimmering stars and spirits, eyes widening at the sudden influx of pink through the sky.

Pink?

You’d never seen so many pink spirits in the sky as you were now, a massive streak of them covering the other spirits flying through the sky, a sure sign of what was to come.

Now all you needed to know was what a pink Starfall meant for your life.

“Y/N, is that you?” a voice asked softly from below the tree you were in, and you looked down to meet hazel eyes.

“Hi, Azriel,” you said shyly from your perch, gathering your skirts closer to your legs. “Why aren’t you at the bonfire?”

He smiled up at you, a sight that always managed to take your breath away. “I thought a certain someone was missing, so I came to check on her. Can I come up?”

A blush dusted your cheeks as you nodded, and Azriel jumped high, using his wings to lift him the rest of the way to the large branch you were on.

“Why aren’t you at the bonfire?” he asked once he was seated next to you, your wings brushing together occasionally, eyes darting between you and the spirits streaking across the sky.

You stayed silent for a moment, debating on if you should tell him your tradition. He had never teased you before, unlike Cassian, who seemed to enjoy poking fun at you. “I like to watch the first few minutes of Starfall alone, it’s… Nice. Peaceful.”

Azriel nodded in understanding. “Did I interrupt your alone time?”

You looked over at him, heart stuttering when you noticed the pink that had streaked across his forehead and curly brown hair. “Not at all,” you replied quietly. “Sometimes it’s better to have someone to enjoy it with.”

Azriel smiled at you, a soft thing in the vibrant lighting of Starfall. “That’s very true, Y/N.” He wrapped an arm around you carefully, mindful to not brush against your wings.

Your head naturally tilted to rest against his shoulder, pink dusting your cheeks when you heard a satisfied huff leave him.

Maybe... Maybe pink means time with Azriel… Love?

Whatever it meant, if it meant more of this? You were excited for what the rest of the year had in store for you.

🤍💙✨💙🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars

[unseededtoast]

Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x Reader

Finale

Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Finale

And now you know that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral into something all consuming. 

Spencer runs point in clearing out the warehouse. His gun is drawn and he's laser-focused on making sure nobody escapes from inside. The team had split up to cover the entrances, each moving swiftly. And once Spencer hears through his earpiece that everyone is into position, he makes his move.

"FBI hands in the air." He demands as he enters the warehouse. His voice reverberates off the metal walls as he swivels his head to locate Valentine.

But the warehouse is dark and empty. There's nobody here. Spencer holsters his gun and looks around the property to see if maybe Valentine is trying to hide somewhere. The rest of the team searches as well but an uneasy feeling settles within Spencer.

"It's clear." JJ states as the team convenes in the middle of the warehouse. Adrenaline still pumps through Spencer's veins as he tries to work out what this means for the case.

But no matter how logically he tries to think all his mind focuses on is you. Spencer knows that Valentine's absence here means that you're still in danger. He finds his phone tucked in his pocket and dials your number. But it goes to voicemail.

He tries not to panic, he really tries. So he calls again, hoping that maybe you were preoccupied with something else, maybe you had taken a walk or something. But it goes to voicemail again. Spencer calls for a third time, but this time he doesn't let it go to voicemail.

"Something's wrong." He tries to keep his strained voice level, but he can hear the tension in his words as they leave his mouth.

"What are you thinking?" Hotch asks, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Someone try to reach Garcia. I think we've been set up." Spencer says as he turns to run back to the SUVs.

As he runs his fingers fumble to call Penelope. Her phone rings and rings and rings. But nobody picks up. With shaking hands Spencer gets into the SUV and is about to turn the key to start it when someone opens the door.

"Get out kid, I'll drive." Derek says, motioning for Spencer to step out.

"We don't have time." Spencer practically shouts. Derek reaches over to still Spencer's hand clutching the keys.

"We don't. And you're in no right mind to drive. Get over there and let me get us back to the office." Derek's voice carries a sense of authority with it. And so Spencer hands over the keys before clumsily climbing over the middle console to the passenger seat.

While Derek speeds off back towards the office with sirens blaring, Spencer keeps trying to reach you or Penelope. His leg is bouncing up and down rapidly and he wishes that the car could drive at the speed of the jet. He just needs to know you're okay. He needs to know you're safe.

Finally, after the thousandth time, Penelope finally picks up.

"Your wish is my comm-"

"Penelope there's no time. I need you to go to the bullpen and see if she's okay. I can't reach her and Valentine wasn't at the warehouse." Spencer cuts Penelope off with rushed words.

"What? What do you mean he wasn't there his car clearly showed that he was." The panic in her voice is palpable and Spencer hears movement on the other line.

"I need you to go check on her now please." Spencer struggles to keep his cool. He hears Penelope's office door open and close and he faintly hears her heels clicking on the floor.

"The lights are all off." Penelope says.

"What do you mean the lights are off?" Spencer's mind feels like it could start smoking at any second with the amount of scenarios playing themselves out at the same time.

"I can't open the doors. The doors are stuck. I can't, I can't get in." The panic in Penelope's voice escalates and Spencer hears her pushing on the door.

"Do you see her?" Derek glances at Spencer momentarily before focusing back on the road. Spencer can tell that Derek's accelerated more as the car seems to scream down the road.

"No, I don't- wait. Oh my God. Spencer. You guys need to get back here now." Penelope's voice turns gravely serious before the line cuts off completely.

"Penelope? Garcia? Hello?" Spencer practically shouts. But all he's met with is silence. His hands grip his phone so tightly he thinks it might shatter under the pressure. A wave of nausea washes over him but he wills himself to not get sick. You need him, he doesn't have time to spiral.

"What did Garcia say?" Derek finally asks, no longer able to take not knowing. Spencer takes a shaky breath before looking over to Derek.

"The doors are locked. The lights are off. Garcia said we needed to get back immediately." Is all he can say without getting sick all over the car.

Spencer's mind starts playing cruel tricks on him. He sees you as the face of countless other victims. Some had been shot, others stabbed, a few dismembered, but they're all victims of stalking cases the team has worked in the past. He can't bear the thought of anyone harming a hair on your perfect head.

"We'll get there." Derek says with determination. Spencer can only hope he's right. 

———

Valentine's voice echoes through the empty bullpen as you spin around in the dark office, trying to see where he is. Your heart thumps heavily in your chest and your knees feel weak.

"Oh don't look so frightened dear." His voice booms out of the intercom. You're acutely aware that he's actively surveilling you but there's nothing you can even do about it.

The cameras in the corners of the room track your every move. Every inch you move, they move. Your brain is going haywire, wrestling between logical profiler thinking and terrified victim mentality. Thousands of thoughts race through your mind at once to try and form a plan, but no matter how many thoughts cross your mind, it all just sounds like a jumbled mess. You're freezing.

It feels as if your feet have been cemented to the ground. It's almost like your vocal cords have been cut as well, seeing as how you can't find it within you to form a sentence.

"I'm almost there. Don't worry." Valentine's voice cuts through the silence again.

You're too scared to move. He's going to be here soon. Deep down you know it's a threat. Valentines has you right where he wants you; like a caged animal. There's no way for you to get out or warn others. All you have with you is your service weapon. As you reach for your gun it's like your heart stops; you must've forgotten it in your bag you packed earlier, the one you left in the empty office Hotch is letting you use.

You're all alone in here and Valentine is on his way.

Time moves slowly but too quickly all at once. As if everything were suddenly in slow motion, you watch as Valentine unlocks the doors with his phone and steps into the bullpen with you. Instantly, all the cameras turn off.

Your breaths are shaky, your heart pounds and your chest hurts from fear. Adrenaline tingles the tips of your fingers.

But though you're afraid, there's a tiny voice in the back of your mind reminding you that you've dealt with people like this before. You've worked several similar cases. Deep down, you know how to navigate this situation. But when you're the victim, it's like your training has vanished and you're reduced to nothing but a scared little girl. You don't want to be a scared girl, you want to be strong and brave and smart.

Valentine smiles sickly at you, his white teeth shine like fangs in the dim light. The glint of something shiny in his pocket distracts you from this face. It seems he's brought a knife with him.

You try your hardest to level out your breathing and to think with a clear mind, with a profiler's mind. After all, you've been trained and conditioned for high stress scenarios. You can only hope you don't crumble when it matters.

"Well, aren't you happy to see me?" Valentine asks, taking several steps towards you. Instinctively you want to reach your hands out to maximize the distance between the two of you, but you keep your hands to your sides.

"I am." Your voice falters only slightly, hopefully he doesn't notice. Valentine looks you up and down, licking his lips as he does so.

"You know, you are so much more beautiful up close like this." He takes another step closer.

"Thank you." You accept his compliment, swallowing the sickness threatening to rise.

Valentine steps right in front of you, his tall figure looms over you. He stares down at you and you feel like a gazelle in the middle of an open field, and Valentine is a starved lion. His hand reaches out and touches your face. You flinch.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?" He sounds offended by your reaction to his touch. Thinking quickly, you answer.

"No, never. It's just- your hands are cold. That's all." You try to play it off convincingly. He looks down at his hands and rubs them together to warm them up. His fingers trace over your cheekbone once more.

"I've waited so long for this, for you." He whispers as he looks over your face. You can only hope you're masking your fear well enough.

"If only you hadn't let him touch you like that." Valentine's voice turns from sweet to sinister in the blink of an eye. Your eyes meet his and you see malice and hatred within them. He looms over you and takes his fingers away from your face, like your skin suddenly burned him.

"What do you mean?" You decide to play dumb, maybe there's a chance you can talk your way out of this. Valentine snarls and takes a step back.

"You know what I'm talking about. Spencer. Fucking. Reid." He enunciates his words in an exaggerated manner. Your mouth is dry and your brain can't keep up and decide how you should play your cards.

"I, I don't-"

"Save it. I'm not stupid." He cuts you off and begins pacing back and forth in front of you. Valentine pushes his hand through his hair and you see his face turn red.

"I saw. I saw it all. You let him put his hands all over you. You let him put his lips on your skin. You even let him into your bedroom. How could you? How could you do that to me after I went out of my way for you?" He practically yells at you. The vein in his neck pops and you see his hand drift to his back pocket.

You put your hands out towards him, palms facing him and try to de-escalate the situation. There have been several cases where you've had to talk down unsubs in this exact frame of mind.

"I only let him do it because I was imagining it was you and not him." It's a long shot but you hope he buys it. You also wonder how long you can stall before someone finally comes back.

Valentine stops pacing for just a fraction of a second. He stares at you intensely. His jaw clenches.

"You understand why I have a hard time believing that, right?" His voice has returned to being unsettlingly calm.

"I know. But it's the truth." You say, letting your hands fall back down to your side.

You and Valentine stare at each other, a tense silence filling the room. It looks like he's trying to rationalize your words. And after what feels like a small eternity, he speaks up again.

"If that were true, you would've let me stay that day I came to your apartment. Instead, you dismissed me and let him stay." Valentine's hand reaches for something in his back pocket.

He rushes at you and swings, a silver blade in his hand. You barely dodge it before he's swinging at you again. Valentine is a trained FBI agent, you both went through the same hand to hand combat training. He's fast, he's strong. And you struggle to dodge his attacks.

In an attempt to put as much space between you as possible, you back away and tip chairs and files into the floor to hopefully trip him. But eventually he lunges forward and the blade cuts your abdomen.

The pain temporarily freezes you, allowing Valentine to grab you and shove you to the floor. He stands over top of you and smiles widely down at you. You feel the warm blood start soaking through your shirt but you can't look away to see how bad it is.

Valentine drops to his knees and straddles your torso, he drags the blade across your cheekbone and down your throat. He presses ever so slightly and creates small cuts on your cheek. The blood streams down your face and onto the floor in thin streams.

"Please." You resort to begging. At this point you know he's got nothing to lose and therefore he likely has no boundaries or care in the world.

"Shhh. It's my turn, and I earned this." He says and drops the blade. His hands wrap around your throat and he presses down hard in the center, cutting off your air supply.

You thrash and kick and hit to try and get him off of you. But he's simply too strong. He's twice your size and deranged. You dig your nails into his skin and claw at his hands. But all he does is smile. And you feel your lungs burning and you're starting to panic.

You try to get air into your lungs and your body shakes from lack of oxygen. Your efforts to free yourself are only making you run out of air quicker. Valentine presses his thumbs into the column of your throat.

"We could've been great. You and I. We could've been so happy together. But you had to go and give yourself to him. No, he doesn't deserve you. He couldn't make you feel good like I could. How could you do this?" Valentine spits down at you as your limbs become too heavy to move.

The edge of your vision starts to become staticky and dotted. But you can see tears streaming down Valentine's face and you feel them drip onto your face. But you're too tired to wipe them away. Your eyelids feel like they weigh 20 pounds each.

It's just so much easier to close them.

———

"Garcia did you get the door locks back online?" Hotch authoritatively asks as the team rushes into the building. Penelope tries her best to keep up with Hotch, tears stream down her face.

"Sir I tried. I tried but I didn't have enough time." Her words are broken up by sobs.

Spencer doesn't have time for this. He shoves past everyone else and reaches the glass doors. His eyes scan the dark office and he sees you laying still on the floor. Motionless. Valentine is hunched overtop of you, his hands wrapped around your throat.

Without thinking, Spencer reaches for his gun and shoots through the door. The glass shatters and falls to the floor in a billion pieces. But he doesn't care. All he can see is red as he steps over the glass and into the bullpen.

Spencer reaches Valentine in record time and he wastes no time to kick Valentine off of you. He lands a solid kick to the side of Valentine's face and when Valentine loses his balance and falls from overtop of you, Spencer pushes him on to his back.

When Valentine rolls over onto his back Spencer grabs his shirt in one hand and punches Valentine's face with the other. He hits him again. And again. And again. Everything that Valentine has done to you replays in his head each time his fist connects with Valentine's face.

"Spencer, stop. Stop you can't do this here." He hears someone say as he's forcefully pulled away from Valentine's beaten body.

Spencer pays no attention to who pulled him off of Valentine because he sees you still laying still on the floor next to him. Your eyes are closed and he sees bruising begin to form on your throat.

"No, no come on. Come on baby. Come on." Spencer says as he kneels by your side. His bloody knuckles sting but his chest hurts worse, seized with anxiety and fear because you're not waking up. And those bruises are becoming way too dark way too quickly.

Spencer feels for your pulse on your neck, below your jaw. There's a pulse. But it's faint. Too faint.

"We need a medic. We need a medic right now." Spencer rushes his words as he tilts your head back to allow for maximum airflow into your lungs.

He faintly hears commotion behind him but all he can see is you. And he can hear are your shallow breaths.

Pure, genuine fear paralyzes Spencer.

———

"Derek, stay with him. Don't let him get to Valentine just yet. We're going to do pull some overtime today and get everything sorted. I'll keep you updated. Let me know how she's doing and how Spencer's doing." Hotch speaks authoritatively before hanging up the phone.

He sets the phone on the table and looks at the rest of his team, who have assembled at the round table. He sees their faces full of fear and guilt. And he knows that the team will collectively have to go through the process of acceptance, but not now. Not when there's work to do.

He sees your face in his mind and it launches him into action.

"Penelope. I'm going to need every bit of his equipment seized and searched. I'm talking in his office and at his residence. Document everything." He looks pointedly at Penelope, who eagerly nods her head.

"On it, sir." She affirms and he moves on to his next task.

"JJ, Emily, I need you to document every other piece of physical evidence from her residence and his. Construct a timeline of events. Try to pinpoint what caused this." The women look to each other before nodding. Hotch then looks to Rossi, who's been staring at the table the entire time.

"And Dave, you'll work with me to strategize questioning." Rossi looks up from the table and gives one concise nod.

Content with everyone's willingness to do overtime for your case, he dismisses them. Hotch waits for everyone to leave before addressing Rossi again.

"What are you thinking?" He asks, and Rossi scrunches his eyebrows together before meeting Hotch's gaze. There's a sadness residing in his eyes.

"I just can't believe it took us so long to take it seriously. I mean really, we see these cases all the time but when it comes to one of our own? We completely dropped the ball. And now she's in the hospital. We're supposed to be the most capable team, but we can't even protect our own." He articulates slowly so the point isn't lost on Hotch.

"We never could've known it would escalate this quickly." Hotch says, taking a seat across from Dave, who shakes his head.

"But we could have. The signs were all there. The flowers, the altering of footage. There were indicators present." Hotch is lost for words as the reality of the situation truly sinks in.

Hotch sighs and looks down at his hands that are folded on the table.

"You're right. We should've seen this before it even happened. But it did, and now we have to make sure Valentine never sees the light of day again." Hotch says, hoping that by seeking justice is makes up for a lack of action.

"Yeah we'll lock him away. But do you think she's going to come back? I mean after all this, how could she trust us again?" Rossi asks, exasperation replacing the sadness.

"I don't know." Hotch answers truthfully. He knows that when you recover and are released from the hospital that there's some chance you'll retire from the team. And he couldn't blame you.

"And the kid. You saw how much she means to him. I've never seen him act like that before. During any of it. You saw that picture too, and you saw how he shot through that door, you know exactly what I mean." Rossi says and stands from the table. Hotch rises as well, and he nods.

"I know Dave." Is all he can come up with. Rossi claps a hand on Hotch's shoulder.

"Just have to take this one day at a time." Rossi says before leaving the room, leaving Hotch alone.

Rossi's words repeat in Hotch's mind. What if you decide to not come back? Do you blame the team for what happened? Will Spencer blame the team? Will he leave too? Will you be okay? Will they be able to ensure Valentine's life sentence?

Question after question swirls in his mind until it becomes overwhelming. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists in frustration. He can't help but to blame himself for the team's lack of action. After all, he knew weird things were happening and there was more he could've done sooner that might've prevented this from ever happening.

And he knows the truth, the truth is that Spencer is the only one who took you seriously from the very beginning. And it's because of that bond the two of you share that Hotch knows deep down, that if you leave then Spencer will leave too. Maybe not right away, but soon after.

Hotch can see clear as day that you two love each other deeply. And he knows that Spencer is not prepared to lose you. Not to Valentine and certainly not to this job.

But he has no control over your decision. And he shouldn't stress about things that are out of his control. So instead, he walks out of the room and begins to stress about things he can control, like the compilation of evidence against Valentine.

And so he joins the team and gets to work.

———

Your mind is alive before you can even muster the strength to open your eyes. You hear squeaking shoes on tiled floors, the beep of a monitor somewhere near your head. Whispered voices come and go. But you can't seem to focus on one thing at a time, the sounds blur together.

And you don't know how long you're suspended in this state of mind. All you know is that your eyes are heavy and your throat burns. But you can't move to get a drink, you can't even open your eyes no matter how hard you try.

So you succumb to sleep once again.

And then you awake once more, much like the last time. But now you hear voices and they're closer. They sound like they're near the beeping machine behind you. The tone and cadence sound familiar but you can't make out their words.

You feel trapped within your own body and you begin to panic because you can't open your eyes. You're here and you're awake but you can't open your eyes and you can't move.

You hear the beeping sound behind you grow louder and the voices you heard are now gone, replaced with squeaking shoes against tile. And before you know it you feel people's hands on your arms and on your forehead. It feels like they're trying to soothe you, and it's working.

The beeping behind you calms and voices are heard once more. And this time, you try your hardest to listen in. You really want to know who's here and what they're saying. 

"Hotch wants updates on her. I'm going to give him a call. Will you be okay here for a while?" A deep voice says. 

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine." Another voice says, and this one you recognize. You'd recognize his voice anywhere, that's Spencer. You feel his hand on yours and you desperately try to open your eyes, but you can't, you're still stuck.

"I think you can hear me. At least I hope you can." Spencer talks again, his hand gently squeezing yours. You hear him sigh before continuing, 

"I want you to know that we got him. We got him and he's never going to hurt you again. I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't there to protect you. I should've been there. I should've seen the signs that we were being set up but instead I was blinded. I was so focused on catching him that I didn't slow down and think rationally about it. I am so sorry." He raises your hand and places a delicate kiss to the back of it. And you feel something wet drip onto your skin too. 

His words make your heart ache and you want to open your eyes and let him know that none of this is his fault. He shouldn't blame himself one bit. You hear him sniffle and it ignites a fire of determination within you. With all your might, you try to at least wiggle your fingers. You just need to show him that you hear him. 

And so with all of your might and strength you can muster, you feel the tips of your fingers twitch. And then you do it again. You hear Spencer take a sharp inhale and you know that you're message reached him. He knows. 

"Do that again if you can hear me." He whispers. And so you try your best to do it again. 

It must've worked because the next thing you feel is Spencer's lips on your forehead. The feeling of his hand holding yours and his lips on your skin sends a warm sensation through your body. And you hear the monitor beep louder again. 

But then the moment is interrupted as someone enters the room, apparent from the sound of their shoes. 

"Pretty boy I think she likes you too, look at that heart rate." The voice is undeniably Derek's. His voice is clearer now and you know that nobody else calls Spencer "Pretty Boy". 

"What did the doctors say?" Spencer asks him. 

"They said it shouldn't be too much longer. Her vitals have stabilized." Derek answers. 

The room falls back into a silence, the only sound to be heard is the monitor behind you. Spencer's hand stays on yours and you feel yourself being lulled back into sleep by the rhythmic monitor.

———

Spencer looks down at your sleeping face and wishes there was something he could do to nurse you back to health in an instant. He thinks it's his fault you're laying in this bed in the first place. Out of everyone on the team, he should've been able to see that Valentine was setting everyone up. That was his hail Mary; to get everyone out of the office on a goose chase so that he could get to you. 

And Spencer knows that if the team had arrived even one minute later that there may not have been a chance to save you. It's a miracle you're alive, even more of a miracle that your hyoid bone didn't break or that nothing internally was severely damaged. The deep bruises were superficial the doctors had said. 

Spencer isn't sure how long he's been standing by your bedside with your small hand enveloped in his. And truthfully, he doesn't care. He would stand there for an eternity if it meant you would be okay. 

"Hotch just texted. They're planning to question him tomorrow, time constraints of the arrest and all." Derek says, showing Spencer the screen. 

With a sigh, Spencer knows that questioning Valentine tomorrow is cutting it close. The team will be strapped for time trying to piece everything together without him there. But he can't fathom the thought of leaving you, not now. 

"They'll be able to pull it off." Spencer says, less than confident that everything will be concisely and plainly compiled. 

"Spencer, we both know that you know exactly what happened, beat for beat. They need you back there. She's okay. I'll stay here with her. You go help the team secure the arrest." Derek says, walking over and putting a hand on Spencer's shoulder. 

Spencer looks back at your peaceful face littered in dark blue bruises and it makes his stomach turn. While he would rather pull his own teeth than leave you here, he knows that he can leave no room for error when it comes to Valentine. And he knows that besides you, he's the only one who knows the depth of everything that happened. His eyes drift from you to Derek and he sighs.

"I'll go help them. But if anything changes here, let me know right away." Spencer lets go of your hand and forces himself to walk away. 

"I will." Derek answers as Spencer exits the room and heads back to the office. Each step he takes he feels like high-force winds are pushing against him, making it difficult to keep going forward. 

When he arrives at the office, everyone regards him quietly. There's a tension between him and the team, one that likely won't go addressed until this is all over with. But Spencer knows it's about that picture, about him shooting the door, about him crying as the EMTs took your body away in an ambulance. 

But he can't afford to dwell on that, not now. He pushes his sleeves to his elbows and finds Hotch, ready to get to work and do it quickly. There's no room for error here.

———

You hear the beeping monitor again and feel the blankets had been pulled up higher on your body. You don't even remember going back to sleep. But you do remember that Spencer is here. But you don't feel his hand on yours anymore, his warmth is gone. 

Panicking slightly, you wonder where he is and what happened. Is he okay? The monitor picks up frequency and you feel someone touch your arm. But it's not Spencer, no the skin is too rough, the fingers too big.

"Hey, hey it's me. I'm here and you're okay." Derek says to you. 

And you're thankful he's here but you need to know where Spencer is, you need to know he's not in trouble. What if Valentine got to him? What if Valentine has his hands wrapped around Spencer's throat, draining the life from him slowly? The thought of Valentine hurting Spencer like he hurt you sends a rush of adrenaline so severe through you, that you think for a split second you had been struck by lightning. 

Suddenly, the room isn't dark anymore. No, it's blindingly bright. The white light burns. But eventually, it calms into something more manageable. And then you see Derek standing right next to you, his mouth open, his eyes full of worry and then joy. 

"I knew you could do it. I knew you could." He says and smiles. 

You go to say something but your throat burns and is too dry so instead you end up choking and coughing. 

"Here, here you go." Derek holds a cup of water to your lips. Your shaky hands land atop of his and you help him tip the cup so you can get a drink. Every swallow feels like you're consuming liquid sandpaper. 

"Spencer." You whisper, trying to ignore the sharp, stinging pain. 

"He's okay. He left a few hours ago to help the others." Derek says, pulling a chair over to your bedside. You make eye contact with him.

"Valentine?" You ask, needing to know if he's still in custody. 

"We got him. Spencer's filling in the others about what happened. He's never going to see the light of day again for what he did to you." Derek says and you can hear the clear conviction in his voice. 

There's a tiny part of you that becomes angry at his words. If they had believed you sooner, this wouldn't have happened. But instead they chose to believe you were fabricating evidence to make yourself look better. And for what? To gain clout over a case that happened months ago? To make yourself look better overall? To prove you're just as good as the rest?

You opt to say nothing back. Because one, your throat feels like it's made of molten lava, and two, because you really can't find anything positive to say to him. You almost died because they didn't believe you were in any real danger, not until it was too late. 

Staring down at the water cup in your hands, you wonder if you can go back to the team after this. Would you be able to trust them and rely on them in the field? Would they take you more seriously? Would they treat you the same? Or would their guilt cause them to treat you differently? 

There's too many questions racing through your head and you feel a headache coming on. You wish Spencer was the one who stayed with you, but you know that he's the best equipped in briefing the team. But then again, so are you. 

"When can I leave?" You ask Derek. 

"I'll go find someone and ask." He offers a tight smile and leaves the room. 

If you can get out of here then you can find your way back to Spencer. You would be able to help the team, maybe for the last time. 

———

"Are you sure that you're well enough for this?" Hotch asks you with crossed arms. You give him a nod, knowing that you're more than capable of doing this. 

Hotch simply nods and looks down at the folder in his hand. You stare through the one-way glass at the man who tried to kill you. He's sitting there, chained to the table, looking like a pathetic coward. All of his confidence he had when he was strangling you had been washed away, revealing his true self; an insecure excuse of a man. 

You hear someone else walk in behind you and turn to see Spencer. His hair is disheveled and the stubble on his jaw is prominent, evidence of his lack of sleep. You meet him halfway and he welcomes you into his arms. He holds you like he may never again, his arms wrapped around you securely. 

Hotch is obviously ignoring what you two are doing and is immersing himself in the file folder that you helped them complete yesterday. 

The hospital staff had been reluctant to let you go, but you were determined to get out of there. You pushed through the pain and told them that because your injuries are superficial, that there's no reason to stay any longer. And sure, they tried to persuade you to get more imaging done, but you denied. All you cared about was getting back to Spencer. 

"Are you ready for this?" You ask him, your voice weak and scratchy. Spencer's jaw tightens and he nods, looking through the glass. 

"More than ready." His tone is flat and you know that he's trying to get himself into the right mindset. 

Hotch didn't want to let Spencer participate in the questioning, but Spencer was unrelenting. Spencer told Hotch that Valentine has a personal prejudice against him and that they could use his anger against him. And Spencer was banking on the fact that Valentine hates him to secure an airtight confession. And eventually, Hotch agreed once he saw that Spencer could control his own anger. 

"Spencer." Hotch says, causing the two of you to step away from one another. 

"I'm ready." Spencer answers, face void of emotion. Hotch nods and you watch as they step into the interrogation room together. You take a seat on the other side of the glass and feel your heart beat heavily, anxious for what's about to happen.

Hotch and Spencer take their seats opposite of Valentine and you see Valentine's eyes lock onto Spencer immediately with malice. You lean forward in your seat. 

"You've been read your charges and your rights, do you understand them?" Hotch begins the questioning. Valentine nods, 

"I do." And you know that's the all clear needed to dig into the interrogation. 

Hotch lays out the altered documents on the table, taking his time to spread them out. Valentine looks over each paper, his eyes scanning over the words. He says nothing. 

"These are documents you altered under the credentials of another agent." Hotch states, not breaking eye contact. He doesn't frame it as a question, because if it's presented as a known statement, it gives further incentive for someone to want to defend themselves and provide alternate facts. 

"How do you know she wasn't the one to make those changes herself?" Valentine asks and a small smirk breaks out across your face. He just admitted that he knew the credentials used belonged to a woman and that there were in fact changes made. 

"We know because I personally review each and every one of her case reports. Hers are not nearly as detailed as these, and there are phrasings included that are not conducive to our report writing policy." Hotch fires back flawlessly. You see Valentine clench his hands on the table; he's getting flustered. 

"And in addition to these documents, you were able to spoof credentials to make entry into our office and retag evidence and alter the footage." Hotch says, his tone indicative of being impressed. This is to build Valentine's confidence back up and stroke his ego. When people are overly confident in their abilities, they tend to slip up more by trying to prove themselves. 

"You can't prove that." Valentine resists. Hotch takes a moment before responding. 

"You chose to wait until the cameras were being replaced to send the flowers. You wanted to remain anonymous. You wanted her to work as hard for you as you were working for her. So you used your knowledge and expertise to your advantage." Hotch says, trying to further inflate Valentine's self confidence. 

"She just needed to see the lengths I would go for her." Valentine slips up again. 

"And you didn't stop there to show her that did you? You orchestrated a false cellphone ping at an abandoned location so the rest of the team would go there and leave her in the office. You knew we wouldn't bring her along, so you created an opportunity for yourself." Hotch doubles down again, knowing that Valentine can't help but to brag about his perceived accomplishments. 

"It wasn't that hard. I knew with him around I wouldn't have another chance. So I did what I had to do." Valentine glares at Spencer as he speaks. 

And you know this signals for Spencer to take over the questioning. They've got under his skin, they've got him flustered, and they've got him overly confident. Valentine has so much conflicting thoughts in his head right now that he likely can't think straight or have the foresight to see what's happening. 

"And you hated seeing her with me so much that you entered her home and placed a camera." Spencer states. Valentine crosses his arms. Spencer licks his lips and leans forward, continuing his approach. 

"But before that you entered her home while she wasn't there and took her sweater. That was a shame, that was my favorite one she wore." Spencer then leaned back and sighed, acting as if he could only think of you in that sweater in that moment. 

Valentine's fists clench on the tabletop once more, the vein in his neck starts bulging. He's close to cracking and losing it all. And it's all being done in record time. No matter how smart Valentine thinks he is, the BAU is smarter. 

"You don't deserve to have her like that." Valentine growls through gnashing teeth. Spencer tilts his head to the side. 

"Have her like what?" Spencer provokes him further. Valentine takes a measured breath. 

"You were in her room, I saw you. You were in her house and you had your hands on her. I just needed a small part of her." Valentine now starts to sound unhinged. His voice rises in volume, and Spencer keeps pressing on. He stands from his seat and leans forward on the table. 

"I was there because she wanted me there. In fact she begged for me. It was nice of you to send her those flowers, it just made it more easy for me to take credit for it all." Spencer makes eye contact with Valentine, and refuses to get back into his seat, instead opting to stay leaned forward. Valentine's face is red, his veins popping, his jaw tight and his teeth clenched. 

"Those were for her to see how much she means to me. You couldn't let me have that, you couldn't even let me speak to her that night at the bar. You put those curtains up so I couldn't see her anymore. No you took her all for yourself. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't sit around and do nothing while you got every part of her to yourself. I tried to forgive her, I really did. But she wasn't grateful for what I was doing for her. I was trying to give her the credit she's due and the love she deserves. I did it all for her! And you just swooped in and took it all for your fucking self!" Valentine screams in one breath. His chest is heaving and his face is as red as a tomato.

And after a minute of silence, Spencer stands back to his full height. 

"Thank you." He says and walks out of the room without another word. But Hotch stays. 

Once Spencer walks out Valentine loses his composure again. But Hotch is there for more, they're going to take everything they can get from him. 

"And what were your plans for the photos in your basement?" Hotch's voice starkly contrasts Valentine's delirium. 

"Those were for myself. I needed to see her any time I wanted. But I had to cut him out of the picture." He answers, glaring at Hotch. 

"And so you loved her that much that you were willing to kill her?" Hotch's voice is soft. This causes Valentine to look down at the table where he stares at his hands. 

"I didn't want to. But I couldn't live knowing he was with her. If she were to die I would've killed myself right after, so that we could be together in another life." Valentine answers and it sends a chill through your body. 

"And how did you plan to kill her and yourself?" Hotch's head tilts to the side.

"I brought the knives. I wasn't going to cut her skin with those blades, I would never. But once she was gone I was going to stab myself in the neck." He answers casually, as if Hotch had asked him about the weather. 

"I see." Hotch closes the folder and stares at Valentine. You had one request of Hotch, and you know he's about to fulfill it. 

"Well, you succeeded in one step of that plan." Hotch prefaces, piquing Valentine's interest once again. 

"What do you mean?" Valentine asks, eyes wide. 

"I mean you were successful in strangling her. She passed away hours after she was transported to the hospital." Hotch tells him. 

Valentine lets out a loud sob and hits the table with his fists over and over again. 

"No! No I couldn't have! No!" He screams until his face begins to turn purple. Hotch then stands from his seat and adjusts his tie, unphased by the drama of Valentine.

"Thank you for your time." He says without emotion and walks out of the room to join you and Spencer.

Valentine carries on with his screaming and crying, the three of you watch him from the other side. But you can only look for so long before it starts disturbing you. 

You stand from your seat and leave, content with how things ended. Valentine will live the rest of his days thinking you're dead. And that's exactly how you wanted it to be. 

———

Rain drops pelt your window and thunder rolls above in the sky. Your apartment is empty and the sounds echo off the walls. It had taken you about two weeks to get everything packed up and moved out. It would've taken longer, but you had some wonderful help. 

Spencer enters the empty apartment, his hair wet from the rain outside. He sighs as he stands beside you, taking in the emptiness. It's odd to see your apartment like this, but you know it's necessary if you want to move on with your life. You couldn't stay here any more, all you could think about was Valentine. And if you're dead to him, you want him to be dead to you as well. 

Valentine had been sentenced to two consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole. Hotch had some connections to the judge and was able to secure the maximum sentence. And for that you're grateful. 

"You ready?" Spencer asks you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

You take one last look around the empty apartment and remember the good times shared here. The happiness you felt when you first moved in, the giddiness of Spencer staying over, and how you two made this like your own haven for a short while. Some of those memories stay untainted, but the most recent ones leave a sour taste in your mouth. And you don't want your memories with Spencer to be distorted any more. 

"I'm ready." You answer and the two of you leave. You hear the door click shut behind you and you keep moving forward, refusing to look back. 

The two of you arrive at Spencer's apartment about ten minutes later. Or, you should say you arrived at the apartment you now share with Spencer ten minutes later. He opens the door for you and you smile, feeling over the moon. 

Your furniture now complements his, your photos hang on the wall next to his, and your clothes now occupy the space beside his. The two of you had made this your sanctuary, your own personal utopia where you two blend perfectly with one another. 

Every night you're able to fall asleep in his arms and wake to his perfect face every morning. You still love the way his eyes squint when he first wakes up and how he insists that you make pancakes every Saturday morning. 

There's no pressure or threat looming over the two of you any more and you're able to grow closer and closer naturally and without stress. Truthfully, you had never loved anyone like you love Spencer. The love you have for him is rooted deep within your soul and blooms higher and higher each and every day. 

The two of you sit on the couch together, Spencer's leaned up against the arm and you've fitted yourself between his legs, leaning your head back on his chest. His arms wrap around you and you sigh, feeling nothing but pure peace and contentment.

After Valentine was sentenced and everything started going back to normal, you and Spencer had discussed what the future held. You had told him the truth, that you didn't want a future without him in it, you didn't want to live in a world without him in your life. And thankfully, he felt the same way. 

You took an extended leave of absence from the team, just until you figure out if you want to go back or not. Spencer supports your decision either way. But you can't seem to make up your mind. Hotch had given you all the time you need, and you're taking full advantage of it. Spencer had taken a month off as well, the two of you using this time to focus on nothing but each other. 

You tilt your head back and look up at him through your lashes and he smiles down at you. 

"Hi there pretty girl." His smile widens, revealing his perfect teeth. Adoration fills your heart. 

"I love you." You tell him, and he leans down and kisses your forehead gently. 

"And I love you more, much more than you could ever know, with all my heart." He answers and hugs you tightly to his body. 

You melt into his touch and take in his intoxicating smell. You'll never get over the way he holds you, the way his hands map out every curve of your body, how his kisses you like his life depends on it. How he looks at you as if you had personally painted the night sky.

And now you know that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral into something all consuming. 

But this love is tender, this love is kind. This love you and Spencer share is pure and true. And you will happily live with this love for the rest of your days. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @yondiii@juhdoche@themarauderseraslut@shardsofmarxx@mel-vaz @bippityboppityboob1tch @babyspiderling @honestlyloving @emisback @thatredlipped-classic @desperately-seeking-serotonin @threespacemonkeys @small-and-violent @ropickle @honestlybabymiracle @hiireadstuff @suckstobrlaurie @random000000sblog @mynameiskelly @emma-e-a @pleasantwitchgarden @your-favorite-god @gghostwriter @all2unwell24 @haleyshue97 @placidus

[archangeldyke-all]

hello! i'm angel, i'm 24, and i'm obsessed with sevika and finally decided to make a blog about it.

men, minors, ageless blogs, terfs, zionists, racists, and haters get blocked

come talk to me about sev! she's all i ever think about anyways. send requests or thoughts if you'd like, and check out my ao3! it's linked in my description :)

below is my taglist, masterlists, and link to the discord server and my kofi! if you'd like to be added to the taglist, comment on the post or shoot me an ask!

key for the emojis!

👶: little fucker/pregnancy fic

🐕: slayer fic

🦇: black vampire reader fic

🤠: cowboy sevika fic

💼: ceo amab sevika fic

💐: slow living fic

👑: royalty fic

⚔: ran, sevika, and reader fic

🍃: plug sevika fic

😾: werecat sevika fic

🐇: isha fic

🪳: roach 'verse fic

🪩: club mom reader fic

🖇️: baby butches fic

🏫: zaun highschool teachers fic

*once i write 5+ requests for a certain topic/au, i'll assign it it's own emoji, so it's easy to keep track of the full story :)

[vergilsladyfriend]

An Artists Eye

I don't know why but every time I try to update a post it doesn't work until I do it three times?? Boo. This isn't exactly how I wanted it to turn out but I'm semi-happy with the finished work, soooooo have fun.

I'm working on a 'part-two' (it's more of a part one, it takes place before this). Not sure when it will be posted, but it'll be out sometime. (Read it here!)

Arno finds your sexual drawings and offers to live them out with you.

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Fluff and smut, Google translated French, oral (r receiving) fem!reader, vaginal sex/fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (I hate that word), grinding/dry humping.

Word count: 3,491. It's been awhile since I wrote something this long.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Three years ago, you had the pleasure of Arno knocking you over. The streets of Paris had been bustling one fall morning, and you were late to a client meeting, scuttling down the street with your sketches haphazardly secured in your arms. You weren't looking - or maybe you were but didn't process it in time - when a man walked straight into you. It was somewhat theatrical--your papers flew up as you fell down. The man immediately bent down to help collect your sketches while muttering apologies, but it was too late; a good majority of your work had fluttered straight into a muddy puddle you narrowly missed. 

As the brunette picked up what papers were still preserved, you worked on dusting yourself off. Once the two of you stood, you finally looked at the man's face, one of his gloved hands moving to push his hood back. "Je suis vraiment désolé, madame," he said, "I'll buy you a new stack of sketching papers." You blinked at his offer - somewhat distracted by his handsome face - and politely rejected it. "Non, c'est bon. I wasn't looking where I was going." The man nodded and handed you back your work, dismissing himself with a slight nod and smile before disappearing back into the crowd. You stood there for a few seconds while people passed you, their shoulders occasionally bumping yours, and you moved to put the papers in your messenger bag. 

A few days later, the man randomly arrived at your door around eleven at night. When you opened the door, you were no less than shocked - he actually brought you a new stack of sketch paper! Then you asked yourself, how did he find my house? "Bonsoir Madame," he said. His brown eyes danced over your face, the same you had done when he knocked you over, and he extended his hand with the cartridge paper that was wrapped in a thin cloth to keep from dirtying. You take it from him, and your mouth flubbed open in search of some words. Finally, you decided on nothing more than an awkward "Merci... May I get your name?" The man chuckled, "Arno Dorian, and yours, madame?" Arno repeated your name once you said it, nodding along in confirmation. He left after denying your offer for coffee with a goodnight, and after you returned to your sofa, you undid the covers to the paper. 

A small card with a fancy gold trim sat on the stock. You turned it around and looked at the fancy swirls of writing--If you wish for more paper, run into me at Café Théâtre. You couldn't help the wide smile that formed on your face. 

Now, it will be your and Arno's second anniversary in a day.

You sat in front of your easel that held up your latest work, and one of your hands mixed up a beautiful blue on the wooden pallet held by your other hand. It was seven-ish, the sun hazily setting in the dimming sky, and the warm air of summer blew through the open windows of Arno's chambers. The ambient buzz of crickets and the fuel of early nightlife gave way to your soft humming of a lullaby. Occasionally, you'd hear the claps from the Cafe down below, a recitation of Hamlet playing tonight, and you've seen the show so much that you found yourself rehearsing the lines to yourself every so often. Your fingers plucked through your paintbrush jar until you found a suitable one and began to paint the shading colors of Arno's coat. Shading was the last thing that needed to be done, an easy task that could be completed quickly.  

Arno was indeed your favorite subject to draw. Often, when you found yourself unable to sleep, you sketched him while he was resting--or when you found yourself with free time, you drew his body's familiar lines and curves in practice. Sometimes, these anatomical figures found themselves in... precarious positions, such as in nude drawings. Those were your personal favorites, your sexual admiration for him going past just intercourse, but that sketchpad had been stowed away in the very back of your closet in a box. Hiding your drawings wasn't something you liked; you were proud of your work, and you didn't shy away from drawing nude bodies. In fact, Élise's favorite work of yours was of a sexually deviant nun she had nicknamed 'The Sin.' But, you always hesitated to show Arno the drawings and paintings you have done of him. Neither of you was sure why; you argued they weren't perfect, and Arno argued you were worried that he'd judge (in truth, you were a little more than embarrassed to show the numerous sexual positions you had put your lover and yourself in through pencil). 

However, you decided to face that embarrassment with your second anniversary, hence your eagerness to finish this portrait of your lover. Hours had ticked by reasonably quickly, and soon enough, you heard the grandfather clock chime twelve times, indicating the strike of midnight. You pause to look over your final work and give a more than satisfied smile, grabbing the canvas sheet you had and covering the painting so Arno didn't see it (you also had to make sure he didn't peek; he seemed fond of doing that). Your hands had been stained with colors, and your apron had a few new splotches--you didn't mind, but you still hung up your apron carefully for washing and quickly scrubbed your hands clean. 

With your hands a tad bit achy from the repeated holding of brushes, you stripped yourself of the painter's gown. You didn't even bother with a chemise or undergarments and instead grabbed one of Arno's button-up shirts that had a smear of purple paint. The mark was seemingly impossible to get out of the cotton, so he had unofficially gifted it to you, telling you that he'd wear it if you ever wanted to fling paint at him again. You grabbed one of the two pillows Arno claimed and tucked one between your thighs for comfort--the pillow usually replaced by his thigh. That, sadly, was the reality of being with an assassin; most nights, he wasn't around to fall asleep with. Thankfully, it seemed like you always woke up in his arms, your lover either sleeping soundly or admiring you. 

You heard the chime of 12:30 on the grandfather clock before you shut your eyes for the night and fell asleep. 

Awaking in the morning was a chore. The bed was so warm, cradling you like your mother did when you were a babe, and when you shuffled to get comfortable, an arm tightened around your waist. A knowing smirk cast onto your lips - Arno was back and pressed tightly to you. "Arno," you whisper, quiet enough so he could hear if he were awake. No response. Good, you hoped he was asleep - allowing you to get up and prepare your present for him. 

So, carefully, to not wake him up, you moved Arno's arm from off of you and gingerly rolled out of bed, slowly standing up so as not to make the wood creak. Once your feet were planted on the cool floor, you stretched fully before walking away from the bed. Your easel still sat in the same position with the canvas sheet covering it; the oak stool pushed out to the side with a dirty jar of brushes resting on top of it. You noted that Arno had closed the windows and drawn the curtains, only slivers of sun peeking through. You first moved to open them just a tad so the chambers would be more illuminated--mainly so you wouldn't topple over something. Then, you moved over to your easel. 

You took a deep breath and hoped that it looked okay after drying. Your hands gently took the cover off, and for the second time, you smiled proudly, hands clasped together. It wasn't alright; it was... almost perfect. Something was missing, and you couldn't put your finger on it. Then, it dinged in your brain. The drawing of us! You made your way back to the bed, but instead of getting in, you opened the dresser beside it and rummaged around until you found your trusted sketchbook. You flipped through it until you found the page already torn out and signed with a small love note. You paused, though, and your tummy did a flutter.

You forgot about this drawing. It was one of the first sexual ones you drew, a rather raunchy drawing of none other than Arno laid on his stomach, arms wrapped around a faceless woman's thighs and his face pressed to her cunt. This was still when you were too ashamed to draw yourself in these drawings - hence the faceless woman - but it made you fuzzy. 

It wasn't like you and your boyfriend never had sex; quite the opposite. Many nights you had been spent on the bed, Arno deep inside you while some serious French kissing went on (not to mention the time when Arno's mentor had walked in on you deepthroating the brunette's cock in none other than the Assassin's base under Cafe Theatre, but you're too embarrassed to talk about it. You still get hot when you hear Bellec calling Arno 'pisspot'). While you've had amazing sex, you've never got the confidence to ask for oral. Arno offered it, but you said no; what if you taste bad or do something Arno doesn't like? The thought of a mouth down there always intimidated you, but that doesn't mean you haven't fantasized about it. 

You were so caught up in staring at the drawing that you jumped when a loud crash came from outside, dropping the sketchbook onto the floor. "Merde," you almost immediately cussed, recoiling your foot from the damage of your toes being hit by the journal. It was enough to wake Arno up, and while you bent down to retrieve the book, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Everything alright, cherie?" He said, and you were startled like you were caught doing something bad. "Oui, sorry to wake you." Arno gave you an understanding smile, sliding to the edge of the bed and leaning forward to find your waist. You tucked the sketchpad to your chest as he pulled you in for an embrace, his face resting between your shoulder blades. 

"What were you drawing?" Arno muttered, and you tensed for a moment. "Sketches, love, it's nothing too important." You replied, and he hummed. "Everything is important when made by you." You didn't protest when his hand snaked from your hip up to your hands, his fingers grasping the edge of the book and pulling it free. His head moved back but still rested against you, and you heard him chuckle. Your face warmed, and for a moment, you willed the floor to open up and swallow you or for you to turn into a gnat and fly away. 

"Is this woman you?" He asked, and you quietly said no. "Then you envision me eating another woman out?" You let out a defeated breath, shoulders slumping. "Non, it is me." 

"But you did not draw your face?"

"It was awkward."

"Ah, then we should make it less awkward. Experiencing it may give you confidence."

Your head turns to peer at him from behind your shoulder. He has a cheeky grin that he knew he was doing - and you chewed your lips. "It's our anniversary, too. How will I marry you if I've never tasted you?" You blinked and chose to ignore the marriage comment, but as he pulled you into his lap, you knew you weren't getting out of this one too quickly. "I've heard from other women that it's relaxing if that quells your worry." One of his hands slides up your thigh and rests near the apex of your legs, thumb rubbing small circles into your flesh, and he kisses your cheek. You turn your body, legs swinging to rest on the bed and lean into Arno. He gives you a sweet look, brown eyes filled with what could only be described as love, and kisses your lips. He didn't get far once he pulled away; your hand brought him back in.

Your fingers undo the red ribbon, keeping Arno's hair tied while he bites your bottom lip teasingly. Once his hair was free and you could run your fingers through it, you allowed his tongue to slip past your lips and tangle with his. He tasted faintly of expensive red wine, and you drank the groan he let when your nails scratched his scalp. The hand resting on your thigh slid under the shirt you wore, warm fingertips running over your curves. Your noses bumped accidentally when you moved to tug on the buttons of his nightshirt, and neither of you went too far from the other. Your breaths still mingled as his hands aided yours in tugging his shirt off, the fabric falling onto the floor. Arno then moved both of you, so now you were lying against the pillows with your lover hovering above you. You exchange soft, loving smiles, eyes studying each other. Your hands ran down Arno's arms and rested against his wrists.

"Do you want to try oral?" He asked, genuinely curious, and you pondered. "Will you go slow?" You query, and you get your answer with the gentle, warming kiss Arno places against your forehead and then lips. His hands grab a pillow you are not resting on, and he says to lift your hips. You comply without question, and Arno slides the pillow under your butt, then moves your thighs apart so he can adequately slot himself in between them. The pillow gave a perfect angle for his hips to slot against yours, his semi-hard cock pressed into your inner thigh, and you could feel the wettening of your folds. 

His lips find yours for a small kiss before he moves to your neck, sucking in a few light marks that can be hidden, and one of his hands trails down your body to your stomach, resting there patiently until you give the go-ahead. The attention placed on your pulse point made you let out a quiet whimper, and you circled your arms around Arno's shoulders so you could tug his body closer to yours. His bodily warmth was nothing short of what you called home, the south trail of his hand at your happy whisper of 'more,' the press of his thumb against your clit--it gave an almost sentimental feel. 

There was loving, and then there was loving. 

And he loved you like you loved him. 

The way Arno loved you was nothing short of amazing? Spectacular? supercalifragilisticexpialidocious? There was no word for the way he treated you. 

After slicking his fingers in your cunt, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before descending your body, leaving kisses every place he could reach. You shifted awkwardly once you two were positioned like the drawing--Arno on his stomach, his cheek pressed into your thigh, hands holding your legs apart. You did have to admit that it was an ego boost to see your lover between your legs with such a hungry look in his eyes. Arno pressed a kiss to where your thigh meets your leg, impossibly close to your cunt, and you felt his breath over your puffy clit. It caused you to shift your hips, a hand coming to rest on his, and Arno peeked up at you from his position. 

Your insides became mush--there was absolutely no right for him to look heavenly, and you moaned as his index finger teased against your slit. "Do you want me to?" Arno asked, dipping his finger inside, teasingly curling in a way that he knew wouldn't feel terribly pleasurable. You debated--a new experience and most likely an intense orgasm, or you'll have to listen to your girlfriends rave about cunnilingus without knowing what to say next time you all met up. Most, if not all, your nerves of appearance had vanished and instead replaced by the anxious want of indulgence. Arno pushed his finger deeper, pulling back and repeating those actions slowly, awaiting your response. 

"Mhm, oui. I'd like you to." 

Arno smiled, and when he exhaled, you wiggled at the cool air against your warm cunt. "Merci," he hummed and leaned in, pressing his lips to your clit. Arno was gentle at first, careful not to overwhelm you. The rough pad of Arno's tongue pressed flat against your clit, and he let you move your hips, allowing you to draw your pleasure in what felt good. Once he thought that you had enough of a taste, his hands moved to your hips and pushed them down into the pillow. Your hands moved between Arno's resting ones or his head, moaning loudly when he sucked your clit with fervor. "Dieu," you exasperatedly said. Your thighs closed around Arno's head, not tight enough to hurt him but snug enough to keep him there, eyes closing when the tip of the pink muscle drew figure eights on your cunt. His finger slipped back in, this time pumping with a little more vigor, and when he curled them just right, that beautiful edge came into feel. 

"S'il te plaît, oh mon Dieu, s'il te plaît," you whined and swore you could feel Arno smile into you. Your hips rocking against his face as well as your thighs clamped tight around his head, caused a slight burn from his stubble, but, shit, you couldn't care as long as he kept going. Arno's lips move up once again and slurp your clit, and "There, fuck! There, Arno, don't stop!" pours out from you. Another finger adds to your wet hole, and he gives a rough suckle just before you send hurdling over the crescendo of an orgasm. Arno lets you ride it out by grinding on his face, his nose bumping your clit in delicious aftershocks, and you eventually come down enough to release Arno's head from your thighs. 

His head popped up from between your thighs, and he crawled up, bouncing down onto the bed beside you. One of Arno's hands rested on your stomach, and he asked, "How was it?" You gave a weak chuckle, "Le meilleur, fuck, the best." 

"Another round?" He suggested. 

"Always another round." You enforce. 

Before Arno could move, you crawled on top of him and gently pushed your hips down so your saliva-and-slick-ridden cunt pressed perfectly against his hard cock. He gave that devilish smirk, hands finding your waist to push the nightshirt over your head, and you moaned as his hips met yours with equal enthusiasm. In more-or-less semi-clothed dance, you rocked against each other until Arno's hands slowed you, one going to slightly push you back just so he could free himself from his now wet undergarments. The fabric didn't get farther than his knees before you scooted back up and took him in your hand, running the head of his cock through your folds. After a few teasing passes, his tip catches your hole, and you slowly - yet easily - sink onto him. Once your lower half was pressed against his pelvis once more, Arno gave a few shallow thrusts and cupped one of your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and playing with your nipple. 

A few more seconds passed, and with a quick kiss to Arno's forehead, you tensed your thighs, hands pressing against his chest, and you began to set a steady rhythm of riding him. Your lover met your thrusts halfway with quick motions that effectively created a shlick shlick when either of you moved. The friction inside you felt good but just not enough to reach climax again, and Arno knowing this, moved his fingers to rub small circles against your clit. Arno cursed and rolled his head back onto the pillows. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each thick swallow, and his thrusts became unsynced--a tale tail sign of impending orgasm. 

With a few more messy thrusts, Arno pulled your hips flush to his and spilled deep inside of you. The warmth of his cum had made you unexpectedly orgasm, toes curling as you moaned. You stayed still and savored the moment, your spine failing to keep you upright, so you lay down on Arno's chest instead. Arno rolled over onto his side and took you with him, grabbing the closest blanket and covering you both up to keep from getting cold. 

"Je t'aime," Arno whispers against your hair, and you softly hummed. "Je t'aime plus," you countered, but he won the battle with an "I love you the most." 

"I peeked at the painting," he said after a peaceful silence, "I love it. You'll have to paint me nude next time."

[lottielovelace]

die prinzessin

(PLATONIC könig & sister!reader)

summary: So... turns out your mystery half-brother is a giant Austrian special forces operator. What now? (Catching up on two decades of sibling bonding, that's what)

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: main version 3.1k)

Rating: T

Relationships: Platonic König & Reader, König/Horangi

Ao3 Tags: Brother-Sister Relationships / Sibling Bonding / Long Lost/Secret Relatives / reader is konig's half sister / Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (reader has scars implied to be from SH but it's ultimately left up to interpretation) / Deutsch | German / Author speaks German (as a second language) / Historical References / reading the prior installment is recommended but not required

this is a part of a series

Notes:

Possible triggers: - König teaches MC to shoot. No violence, but he gives her semi-detailed instructions on how to handle a sniper rifle. - MC talks about past mental health struggles, and König notices old scars of her. These are implied to be from SH, but I tried to leave it open-ended for anyone who doesn't want that in their reading. - König implied to have previously experienced homophobia.

Prior context: I recommend reading the previous installment in the series, but if you really don't wanna here are the truly crucial parts: Your name is Elisabeth "Elise" Linh Veidt, a medical student. You were kidnapped to serve as hostage for a half-brother (König) you've never met before, who ended up rescuing you. There's more, but it's not directly tied to this fic so I'll leave it unspoiled in case you do become interested in reading the first work in the series. I do not use Y/N. I sometimes do use "Elise" & other specific details (you'll see why it's unavoidable in this fic) but I try to—when possible—keep things vague so you can freely project onto her (ex: using "your hair" instead of "your dark hair").

About the German: I speak German as a second language. I like to assess my skill level as "I know what Genitive is, but I don't always remember to use it." As Hochdeutsch-speaking foreign civilian, my speech patterns/vocabulary are going to be pretty similar to Elise's but very different to König, a native Austrian and a hardened soldier. I tried translate as accurately as possible (lots of LEO usage), but besides maybe a "servus" or two, I made and will make no attempt to mimic the Austrian dialect because it's frankly a lost cause for me. That being said, if you are a native speaker and notice any grammatical/syntactical mistakes (or even any sentences where you go "he would not fucking say that" [ex: a term being super formal or old fashioned] please let me know!

About the legibility: This is the primary iteration of the fic. If the German really does make it impossible to read, here's a version devoid of foreign language, but if possible, I highly recommend reading this version for the fullest experience. This version is the most proofread edition and even if you don't speak the language there was linguistic nuances you can still pick up on. If there are any cultural references you don't get, I have an explanation post linked at the bottom. (also available here)

"Können wir jetzt sprechen?” [ Can we speak now? ]

“Fast,” [ Almost ], your brother answered as he continued to guide you through the complex’s winding halls. His refusal to answer questions until your surroundings were secure made the flight over to the KorTac base feel endless.

Finally he stopped at a door-lined hallway. Approaching the second on the left, he punched a combination into its keypad. It swung open, revealing a modest bedroom.

“Großes Bett” [ Big bed ], you noted. His cot was large, even for someone of his rank.

“Ich habe ein Verzicht erhalten” [ I got a waiver ], he lazily indicated at his height. You were once again reminded of your stark height difference.

You looked at him—or at least what you could see of him with the mask—again. Drawing from your bio classes, you knew you shared 25% of your DNA. Clearly none of it manifested in height. Your father had been tall, but even at his peak he was nowhere near as lofty as your brother.

“Deine Mutter muss riesig sein.” [ Your mother must be giant .]

“Sie war.” [ She was. ]

You mentally winced. Way to get off on the wrong foot.

“Meine Mutter ist auch verstorben. Früher dieses Jahres.” [ My mother also passed. Earlier this year. ]

“Entschuldigung.” [ My condolences ].

“Du weißt, dass unser Vater schon ein paar Jahren gestorben ist.” [ You know that our father died a few years ago. ]

You really hoped you weren’t the one to break the news to him.

“Ja, ich weiß. Wir haben einen Brief bekommen.” [ Yes, I know. We received a letter .]

“Gut.” [ Good .]

“Dein Name ist Elisabeth, ja?” [ Your name is Elisabeth, correct? ]

“Ja.” [ Yes. ]

You’re not surprised he knows. There’s gotta be a file on you somewhere packed with everything you’ve ever even sniffed at.

“Magst du deinen Namen?” [ Do you like your name? ]

“Wie bitte?” [ Pardon? ]

“Benutzen Sie Elisabeth oder etwas anderes?" [ Do you go by Elisabeth or something else? ]

“Elise. Und du musst nicht ‘Sie’ benutzen. Wir sind Blut.” [ Elise. And you don’t need to be so formal. We’re blood .] A beat passed. “Wie heißt du?” [ And you? What is your name? ]

“Jeder nennt mich König.” [ Everyone calls me König. ]

“König? Ist das nicht ein wenig dramatisch?” [ King? Isn’t that a bit dramatic? ]

“Wenn du so groß wie ich bin, gibt es keinen Raum für Subtilität. Auch mag ich Geburtsnamens nicht.” [ When you’re as big as me, there is no room for subtlety. Plus I’m not the biggest fan of my birth name. ]

“Darf ich fragen?” [ May I ask? ]

“Ludwig.”

“Ludwig? Wie der König? Der Verrückte?” [ Ludwig? Like the king? The mad one? ]

“Genau. Ich mag es nicht, aber möchte es noch würdigen.” [ Exactly. I don’t like it, but I do enjoy paying tribute to it in my own way.]

“Elisabeth und Ludwig. Unser Vater mochte die Wittelsbacher, ja?” [ Elisabeth and Ludwig. Our father had a fondness for the Wittelsbachers. ]

“Wenn ich der Märchenkönig bin und du die Sisi bist, bist du Kaiserin?” [ If I’m the Fairy Tale King, and you’re Sisi… wouldn’t that make you the Empress? ]

“Dann wäre ich dir überlegen.” [ I would outrank you then. ]

“Gefällt dir das als mögliches Rufzeichen?” [ Would you like that as a callsign? ]

“Was? Kaiserin? Muss ich wirklich einen?” [ What, Empress? Do I even need one? ]

“Ja. Es würde mir ein Stein vom Herzen fallen. Dein Name ist kostbar. Verrate es nicht. Zumindest nicht hier.” [ I think so. It would ease my mind. Your name is a precious thing, I don’t want you to give it away. At least not while you’re on base. ]

Your stomach twisted.

“Du hast mir gesagt, dass dieser Ort sicher sei.” [ I thought you said this place was safe. ]

“Ja voll. Aber jeder kann mithören und hacken.” [ It is. But anyone can tap into radio comms or steal files .]

“Was meinst du damit?” [ What are you implying? ]

“Es ist zusätzlicher Schutz. Bitte. Es könnte irgendetwas. Ich brauche nur, dass du eines hast.” [ It’s an extra barrier of protection. Please. You can pick whatever it is, I just want you to have one. ]

You thought about it for a moment.

“Ich möchte nicht ‘Kaiserin’ sein. Das ist zu viel Macht und Anstrengung. Die Kaiserkrone hat die echte Sisi erwürgen.” [ I don’t want to be ‘Empress’. That’s too much power and pressure. The imperial crown strangled the original Sisi, after all. ]

A smile bloomed on your face.

“Vielleicht zulasse ich ‘Prinzessin’.” [ I might be amenable to ‘Princess’ though. ]

“Prinzessin? Ich kann damit leben. Sinn für kurz?” [ Princess? I can work with that. Sinn (meaning sense/reason/mind) for short? ]

You nodded with deep gravitas, “Einer von uns muss die Intelligenz sein.” [ Someone needs to be the brains around here. ]

Something about the faux-seriousness in your tone made the two of you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

The moment is so beautiful, you almost don’t want to ruin it with the question you know you have to ask. Something ancient, the spirit of Orpheus or Pandora perhaps, urges you to look.

“Darf ich über der Maske fragen?” [ Can I ask about the mask? ]

He paused for a moment, hesitant. Then quietly he spoke:

“Ich kann es ausziehen. Du bist Familie.” [ I can take it off. For you. You’re family, after all. ]

There’s a reluctance in his voice that made your heart twinge.

“Du musst nicht wenn du nicht willst.” [ You don’t have to if you don’t want to. ]

“Nein.” [ No. ] This time his voice seems more resolved, “Ich möchte.” [ I want to. ]

He pulled off his hood. His face was ruddy, but it worked well with his light hair and eyes. You two both looked so similar yet so different.

“Du hast alle guten Gene geerbt,” [ You clearly got all the good genes, ] you joked.

He turned his head bashfully, accidentally revealing his battered side profile.

“Deine arme Nase! Was passiert?” [ Your poor nose! What happened to it? ]

“Zebrochen. Ein paarmal. Bisschen verwickelt medizinische Hilfe zu erkriegen wenn du deinem Gesicht verheimlichst.” [ Broke it. A few times. Bit hard to get medical attention when you refuse to show your face. ]

“Nächste Mal einfach ruf mich. Ich habe dein Gesicht schön gesehen.” [ Next time just come to me. I’ve already seen your face. ]

“Mit Verlaub zu sagen, wie viel kannst du hilf mit helfen?” [ No offense, but how much can you help? ]

“Ja leider. Was weiß ich?” [ You’re right. What do I know? ] you bit back. “Ich habe nur noch ein Viertel vom Medschule übrig.” [ I’m only a quarter out from graduating med school. ]

“Soll das ein Scherz sein?” [ You’re joking. ]

“Das war nicht im Bericht?” [ That didn’t make it into the file? ]

“Nein. Wann ist der Abschluss?” [ No. When’s graduation? ]

You tensed. He was beaming with pride. You hated to ruin it with the ugly truth.

“Ich weiß nicht ob ich graduiere.” [ I don’t know if I will graduate. ]

“Warum? Hast du schulische Probleme?” [ Why? Are you having troubles at school? ]

“Sozusagen. Meine Noten sind gut, aber heuer versuchte ich zu ausscheiden. Sie ließen mich nicht, so nahm ich Gewaltkur.” [ Sort of? My grades are fine but… I tried to drop out earlier this year. They wouldn’t let me so I took more… drastic measures. ]

König’s eyes drifted to your scars.

“Sie sind alt.” [ They’re old, ] you reassured. “Und danach dem ganze Entführungquatch, ich bin entschlossen zu überleben. Vetrau mir. Deshalb möchte ich nicht zurückkehren. Ich möchte leben, nicht in Schule sorgen.” [ Plus after the whole kidnapping ordeal, I’m more determined to live than ever. Trust me. That’s why I don’t want to go back. I want to live, not suffer more in school. ]

Your brother looked at you disapprovingly, “Du musst zurückgehen.” [ You need to go back. ]

“Kann ich einfach hier bleiben? Bei dir? Ich könnte Medizinerin sein.” [ Can’t I just stay here with you? I could be a medic. ]

"Medizinische Arbeit ist nicht leicht.” [ Being a medic is hard work. ]

“Fleiß ist kein fremd.” [ I’m no stranger to hard work.]

“Du wärst ein bessere Medizinerin, wenn du Schule fertigbringst.” [ You’d be a better medic if you finished school. ]

You stared at him with arms crossed, unyielding.

He tried again, “Wenn du dein Medizinstudium abschließt kannst du hier arbeiten. Und du erhältst eine besondere Belohnung von mir.” [ Look, if you graduate you can work here full time—and I’ll ensure you get a special reward. ]

“Was?” [ What? ]

“Eine Überraschung. Du wirst es schön wissen.” [ It’s a surprise. I won’t tell you. Yet. ]

You pursed your lips. Clearly this wasn’t an argument you were going to win.

“In Ordnung. Aber lass mich länger bleiben. Ich möchte dich kennenlernen.” [ Fine. But let me stay a little longer. I want to get to know you.]

“Natürlich.” [ Of course. ]

The tension dissipated.

“Du hast gesagt das du lasst Medical dein Gesicht nicht sehen. Erlaubst du irgendjemand?” [ You said you don’t let medical see your face. Do you let anyone else? ]

Your brother flushed. He really was quite pink under the hood.

“Einer.” [ One person .]

You mentally rolled up your sleeves. You had over two decades of little sister pestering to make up for.

“Echt?” [ Oh really? ]

“Ein Freund.” [ A friend. ]

“Ein Freund oder dein Freund?” [ A friend or your boyfriend? ]

“Ich liebe ihn.” [ I love him. ]

“Gefühl er gleichartig?” [ And does he feel the same?]

“Ja.” [ Yes. ]

“Na ja, ich muss sehen, ob er gut genug für dich ist.” [ Hmm. I’ll have to see if he’s good enough for you. ] 

He slumped in relief. With a jolt you realized he was afraid of you… rejecting him. For what? Being in a relationship with another man? No, you of all people would never do that. You silently resolved to make sure he would never have to fear that ever again.

“Du kannst ihn heute Abend in der Kantine begegen.” [ You can meet him in the mess hall tonight. ]

----------

The mess hall is awash with activity. Even here amongst allies and coworkers, people gave König a wide berth.

“Welcher ist er?” [ Which one is he? ]

König pointed to a man sitting alone at a table.

“Dieser.” [ That one. ]

“Noch ein Maskenträger? Bisschen narzisstisch, ja?” [ Another mask? Bit narcissistic of you, isn’t it?]

You felt your brother roll his eyes under his hood. The sitting man’s head jerked up at the sound of his heavy footsteps. His mask already pulled up over his mouth to eat, the man broke out into a brilliant smile.

“Das ist der Horangi.” [ This is Horangi. ] König introduced. “Klarname Kim Hong-jin.” [ Real name Kim Hong-jin. ]

“Sprecht er Deutsch?” [ Does he speak German? ]

“Ja.” [ Yes. ] Horangi responded. “Er war mein Lehrer. So wurden wir unzertrennlich. Du bist seine Schwester, ja?” [ He has been my tutor. It’s actually how we got close. You’re his sister, right? ]

“Richtig.” [ Yes. ]

“Does she speak English?” Horangi asked your brother, switching languages. You knew it was just a way to test your skills, but it irked you.

“I’m American.”

“Just because you’re American doesn’t mean you speak English. I don’t even know if half the stuff that comes out of Graves’ mouth even qualifies as human speech.”

“Graves?” you looked to your brother for explanation.

“Er ist—wie sagt man das? Yee-haw?” [ He is… how do you say it? Yee-haw? ]

“Südstaatler?” [ Southern? ]

“Geneau.” [ Exactly. ]

You crossed your arms and gave Horangi a final thorough look-over.

“I approve under one condition.”

“Yes?”

“Teach me how to fight. It’s great that I was able to meet my brother but I do not want a repeat of the kidnapping.”

Horangi cocked his head, “Wouldn’t you want to learn from your brother?”

“There are plenty of things I want to learn from him. This is not one of them. Based on size alone, we’re going to have very different strategies. I’m sure he’s a great fighter, but I have a feeling that using his technique with my frame would be… lackluster. No offense.”

“Kein Problem.” [ None taken. ]

“Very well,” Horangi relented. If this was all it took to be on the good side of his in-laws, it was a small price to pay. “I expect to see you at 7 sharp. I won’t go easy on you.”

“Perfect.”

----------

Horangi’s right. It’s not easy, but slowly and steadily—and with no small amount of tears and blood—you managed to win Horangi’s respect (and a nice set of abs).

About a week in, he makes a suggestion. You two were on a water break, your brother was sitting nearby. König had taken to watching your sparring, occasionally commentating or tagging in.

“Du verbesserst!” [ You’re improving! ] the Austrian complimented brightly.

“Und ich habe gar nichts mit es zu tun.” [ And I had absolutely nothing to do with the matter, ] Horangi muttered with mock resentment.

“Unsinn, du bist immer ein prima Lehrer.” [Nonsense, you are an excellent teacher.] König apologized with a kiss.

“Wirklich! Vielen Dank.” [ Definitely, thank you so much! ] you corroborated.

Horangi shifted. Even in training, he still wore the mask—at least while in the base’s general gym. He was more lackadaisical about it in private. Your “family dinners” with him and König had given you a good look at both of their faces. 

You’d become well versed in his facial reactions. Even with his face covered you could feel his devilish smile.

“자기야, du solltest ihr deine erste Liebe vorstellen.” [You know babe, you should introduce her to your first love.]

Your head snapped to your brother. Sans Horangi, you were probably the person on base who he felt most comfortable talking about his past with, but even then it sometimes felt like pulling teeth. You quickly learned to treasure any lore you gleaned.

“Was? Warum habe ich noch nie von das gehört?” [ What? How have I not heard of this before? ]

König raised his hands in defense.

“Das stimmt nicht. Er verhohnepipelt mich.” [ It’s not like that. He’s making fun of me. ]

“Wer ist diese erste Liebe dann?” [ Who is this first love then? ]

“Scharfschützen.” [ Sniping, ] he replied bashfully.

----------

After much cajoling, you finally got König to teach you to snipe. You had a good feeling about it. You always had a steady hand and good hand-eye coordination. Before the kidnapping, you’d even been looking into specializing in surgery (though now—whenever you’d return—you’d be taking a hard turn into emergency medicine and the other subjects required for a combat medic). Plus maybe it ran in the family.

You met at the shooting range one early morning. Horangi had recently been deployed and your brother needed to stop stressing about it.

“Ich wollte ein Heckenschütze sein.” [ I wanted to be a sniper, ] he explained as he showed you the mechanics. The assembly of the gun soundtracked his words with rhythmic clicking.

“Du bist ein Insertionsspezialist, ja? Was passiert?” [ You’re an insertion specialist, right? What happened? ]

“Zu groß. Das wird kein Problem für dich.” [ Too tall. That won’t be an issue for you. ]

You crossed your arms. Cheap shot. König didn’t notice your disapproval, eyes now trained on the target.

“Auch ich zappele.” [ And I fidget .]

“Ich habe dein Scharfschießen gesehen. Du hast eine feste Hand.” [ I’ve seen you shoot. You have a steady hand. ]

“Hände kann ich ruhen. Alles anderes, nicht so viel. Problematisch, wenn man unauffindbar sein muss. Erinnern: Drück, nicht zieh.” [ I can keep my hands steady. The rest of me, not so much. A slight issue when trying to be undetectable. Remember, squeeze don’t pull. ]

BANG

Bullseye.

“Du bist dran.” [ Your turn. ]

You approached the marked spot. This seemed so much easier before you felt the gun in your hands and witnessed your brother’s expertise first hand.

“Hol drei tief Atemzüge. Großer letzter Ausatmen. Das ist der Moment. Beacht Folgemaßnahmen, Rückstoß ist eine knifflige, besonders bei deiner Größe.” [ Take three deep breaths. Big exhale on the last. That’s when you want to shoot. And remember to follow through, recoil can be a bitch, especially at your size. ]

Even with your nervousness, you still found it in yourself to retort.

“Nennst du mich kurz?” [ Are you calling me short? ]

“Für mich seid ihr alle kurz. Das ist nichts speziell. Schussbereit!” [ You’re all short to me. There’s nothing special about that. Position! ]

The gun was heavy, but thanks to your work with Horangi not unbearable.

One.

Two.

Three. 

Even watching your brother’s demonstration hadn’t prepared you for just how loud the gunshot was.

You flinched. Hard.

The bullet went left, landing in the dirt with a small puff.

“Scheiße.” [ Shit. ]

“Gute Form. Ohne dein Zucken, wurdest du ins Schwarze treffen. Du musst nur an dem Krach passen. Probier es noch mal.” [ Good form. If it wasn’t for the flinch you would’ve got it dead on. You just need to get used to the noise. Try again. ]

You were still rattled, but your brother’s confidence in you steadied your hands.

You knew you could do it, you just had to…

Eins.

Zwei.

Drei.

There was no dust cloud this time. Only the noise of the round hitting something solid and your brother’s exhilarated whoop as he took you in his arms.

----------

Saying goodbye was rough. Both König and Horangi joined you on the ride to the airport, wanting to prolong goodbyes for as long as possible.

“Bis bald.” [ See you soon. ]

When your flight finally touched down and you returned to finish med school, it was with a few training bruises, an even steadier finger, and a determination to help your new family the only way you knew how.

An explanation of König & Reader's full names and the historical references behind them

[vilevenom]

It's so nice to finally be able to release this into the world! Work, migraines and socializing made it take longer than it probably should have to finish. I hope everyone enjoys this incredibly self-indulgent, slice of life fluff fest ❤️ I do want to quickly note, though, that I've never played SA2. I did read a synopsis and did a bunch of research, though, so I hope nothing is too glaringly wrong? P.S - The final word count for this is over 28K. If you'd prefer, I'll be posting this in chapters on AO3 for easier reading. The link for my AO3 in in my pinned post.

Return to Innocence

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (video games)

Pairing: Sonic/Shadow Warning(s): Description of injury

Summary: Watching Shadow fall from the ARK sat heavy on Sonic's heart. It was his greatest failure and regret to date. He'd thought he'd have to live with that regret for the rest of his life. It would seem that fate had other plans.

Sonic sighed as he trudged through the deluge of rain on his way back home after visiting with Amy. Tails had insisted he go out, despite the rain, since he'd apparently been 'moping around' since they made it back to Mobius from the ARK. He'd said that a visit to Amy should help perk Sonic up, since he usually found her bubbly personality refreshing and sweet.

It did not.

Ever since they'd returned home, when not otherwise preoccupied by the disaster of the week, Sonic couldn't help but let his mind drift back to the last few moments he'd spent in his super form those handful of months ago. He replayed the scene in his mind ad nauseum, substituting every action imaginable to try and think of some way the outcome could have been different. However, and as unfortunate as it was, without Shadow's sacrifice there would have been no way for them to push the ARK out of its crash course with the planet. That didn't stop Sonic from wondering what would have happened if he'd just reached out a moment sooner, though. If he had managed to grab Shadow's hand instead of his inhibitor ring, then maybe they could have both made it back home.

When Amy had managed to pry his thoughts from him (after much bribing with cake) she told him that there was little to no point in dwelling on the past, since there was no way for him to change it. She'd told him that he should do as he promised, and carry Shadow's memory with him, honor it, and do his best to move on. Sonic admitted that, despite Shadow brushing away his reaching hand, he couldn't help but feel like it hadn't been what Shadow had wanted, but what he thought he deserved after everything he'd done. Amy had sighed, filled his tea cup up with something overpoweringly floral, and told him that there was no way for him to know, since, once again, he could not change the past.

Her words did very little to dissuade his mind from plucking at the painful memories and replaying them on repeat.

Once Sonic felt that he'd spent enough time at Amy's to get Tails off his case for a good few days, he bid the pink hedgehog farewell and made his way out into the rain. She'd offered Sonic an umbrella, but he'd opted to stick to the vibrant yellow rain coat that Tails had forced onto him before he'd left, stating that he found the sensation of rain in his quills refreshing. Truthfully, it was more that he was hoping that the feeling of the water cascading through his quills and seeping into his fur would help to wash away the sticky feeling of guilt he carried with him for not trying harder to save Shadow.

His mind was so caught up in swirling thoughts of self-loathing that he very much almost missed the cloaked figure of a Mobian standing in his front yard, staring up into the sky as though it held the answers of the universe. He paused when he finally registered that someone was outside of his house, frowning slightly through the rain at them.

"Hey!" Sonic called, stepping forward, "You okay?" An ear twitch was Sonic's only real indication that the other had heard him, prompting him to continue forward, his hand outstretch towards the other's shoulder. "Hey, man. C'mon, my little brother is inside and you're gonna freak him out if you keep standing in the rain like this."

Sonic's hand didn't manage to make contact before the Mobian was turning, a flash of familiar red quills causing Sonic to freeze as though he had come face to face with a specter.

"…Shadow?" he whispered in disbelief, tears welling in his eyes as he let out a loud whoop, throwing his arms into the air, before wrapping them around Shadow in a fierce hug. "You're alive!" He pushed the dark hedgehog back by the shoulders, "Wait, how did you survive?" He blinked a couple of time before shaking his head and yanking the other back into a hug, "Oh, man, it doesn't even matter! This is so way past cool!" He let out a hysterical little laugh, a bit amazed that Shadow hadn't shoved him away by now, but couldn't bring himself to care much. The guilt and remorse that had been swirling inside him for months now would finally stop.

"I'm sorry," Shadow murmured, catching Sonic off guard with how soft his voice sounded, "But…do I know you?"

That made Sonic reel back, holding Shadow at arms length. "I-…C'mon, Shads," Sonic snorted, crooked grin working its way across his muzzle, "It's not like you to joke."

"I'm afraid I'm not joking," Shadow stated with a short shake of his head, "My apologies, since it does seem that you know who I am. But…I'm afraid I can't recall who you are."

Sonic let his arms drop, his head shaking slightly as he took a short step back. "It-it's me! Sonic? Fastest thing alive? The blue blur?" he gestured at himself, striking a little pose. When Shadow simply shook his head again with a small shrug, Sonic sighed and let his shoulders drop. "The faker?" he offered flatly, arching an eyebrow at the other. When he was still met with a blank stare he sighed, moving to loop his arm around Shadow's elbow. "You know what? It's probably the yellow rain coat. Very off brand for me. Let's just get you inside and dried off, and maybe seeing me in all my unobstructed glory will jog your memory."

"Alright," Shadow said tentatively, allowing Sonic to drag him into the house.

Once inside, Sonic helped Shadow take off his cloak, hanging it up next to his jacket, before he kicked off his shoes and rushed off to fetch towels from the bathroom. When he returned, he found Shadow standing exactly where he'd left him, dripping water onto the rug in the entryway and looking rather confused. Sonic snorted quietly, offering Shadow a towel and nodding towards the living room.

"Take your shoes off and come inside. I promise not to bite," he joked, grin only widening at the slightly alarmed look Shadow shot him.

"I haven't been invited inside someone's home before, t my knowledge. Should I be wary of being bitten by others?" the hybrid asked, carefully rubbing the towel into his quills as he toed his shoes off.

"What? No," Sonic chuckled, waving a hand at Shadow, "It's just a joke. Man, you really were grown in a tube, weren't you?"

"…Was I?"

That gave Sonic pause, stopping to stare at Shadow who was staring right back with a perplexed look of his own. "Do you really not remember?" Shadow shook his head for the third time in what felt like as many minutes, and Sonic had to take a moment to truly take stock of the situation. Up until they were saving the planet, Shadow had been harsh, brash, confident, and violent. He'd been stilted in nearly every interaction he'd had with Sonic, and although he couldn't say for certain, he had a funny feeling that there would have been no way that Shadow would have let anyone touch him, let alone embrace him. But the Shadow now standing in front of him? He'd let Sonic hug him, drag him into his home, was calm and polite, and had just kicked off his skates without a thought when Sonic told him to. "This might be a more serious situation than I thought," he muttered to himself, turning his head to shout into the house, "TAILS!"

"Who or what is a Tails?" Shadow intoned quietly behind Sonic as a racket exploded from the direction of the garage and footsteps quickly approached the living room.

"I didn't break anything this time!" Tails called back as his footsteps approached. He appeared in the doorway of the living room, soot smeared across his cheek. "What's up?" he asked, the grin that had been on his face when he'd appeared slipping away upon seeing Shadow stood in their living room. "Shadow?!"

"Hmm. It would seem that found my way to the right place," Shadow commented idly, draping his borrowed towel around his neck.

"Where…How?!" Tails asked, turning to Sonic even as he gestured wildly at the hybrid.

"Your guess is as good as mine, little bro," Sonic offered with a shrug, "But I think something happened when he fell from orbit. He says he doesn't remember who I am, and he's acting…different."

"Different how?"

"Just…I mean, he's standing in our living room, calmly drying himself off with one of our towels. I would think that'd be a big enough indication that he's a bit off," Sonic snorted, cocking his hip and folding his arms over his chest.

"I mean…That could just be how he acts when he's not being brainwashed by a mad scientist, you know," Tails scoffed, mirroring Sonic's posture.

"…'He' is standing right here, you know. And is, quite frankly, finding this conversation a bit concerning."

At the quiet comment, both Sonic and Tails turned to Shadow with twin looks of apology on their faces.

"Sorry, Shads. Didn't mean to talk about you like you weren't here," Sonic offered, clapping his hands together with a wince.

"Yeah. Uhm, sorry about that. I just…okay. We'll approach this scientifically," Tails added, placing his hands on his hips, "So…We'll start with some simple questions. What do you remember?"

Shadow hummed quietly, shuffling his feet slightly. "Well…I remember the feeling of falling…and then not much? I think someone was carrying me? After that, the next thing I can recall is…walking."

"Walking? That's it?" Tails asked with a frown, tilting his head slightly.

"A lot of walking, yes. I've been walking for some time. And, I know this may sound somewhat odd, but something was compelling me to come here," Shadow finished, looking between the fox kit and Sonic.

"Huh," Tails stated bluntly, while Sonic just stared at Shadow with an odd look on his face. "That's….well, it is weird. But, maybe you feeling a compulsion to come here has something to do with the Chaos Emeralds? After all, if your last memory is falling before walking here, that was just after you and Sonic used the Chaos Emeralds to go super and save the planet. I think we'll need to talk to Knuckles about this."

"Save the planet…? Are we heroes?" Shadow murmured, seemingly mostly talking to himself, though Sonic did offer him a lopsided grin and a short nod.

"We sure are, Shads! Averted a whole global crisis," Sonic said happily, glancing quickly out the front window at the rain still pouring outside. "And if we do wanna go see Knuckles, we're gonna have to wait until after this storm passes. There's no way we're taking the Tornado out in this."

"Mmm, true," Tails sighed, tapping at his chin. "Well…in the meantime, then, Shadow?" The dark hedgehog tipped his head to show he was listening, "Do you mind coming with me to the garage? My work station is out there, and I have some equipment I can use to see if maybe your memory loss is due to hitting your head."

A short battery of basic tests later, with Sonic standing to the side and anxiously tapping his foot, offered the predicted results that Shadow had hit his head hard enough to cause memory loss. There didn't seem to be any other lasting damage, however, which was a bit of a relief to the three Mobians huddled around Tails' computer screen.

"So…what does this mean for me? In regards to my memory, that is," Shadow asked once Tails had read his findings off from the screen.

"Well," Tails hummed, rocking back in his chair, "Honestly, it's really hard to say. Brain trauma is funny that way. They could come back on their own over time, or they may never come back at all. Only time will tell. It is kind of weird, though, since your files indicted you had advanced healing abilities. I'm sort of surprised something like a bump on the head would lead to this, with that in mind."

"That's not overly reassuring, if I'm being honest," Shadow sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, it's okay, Shads," Sonic said, stepping up to place a comforting hand on the hybrid's shoulder, "You can stay here as long as you need while we try to figure everything out. We'll help you."

"We will?"

"Well, I will," Sonic snorted, kicking Tails' chair so it rolled across the garage floor, earning a peel of laughter from the fox kit.

"Thank you, Sonic," Shadow breathed, placing his hand over Sonic's on his shoulder and offering the blue hedgehog a small smile, "I appreciate it."

Sonic couldn't help but be somewhat dumbfounded at the appearance of the smile on Shadows face, catching himself after a moment of staring and tearing his eyes away to watch Tails jump off his chair and push it back towards his desk. "Y-yeah! Sure, of course! Anytime." He cleared his throat after a moment, finally taking note of the clock on Tails' computer. "Oh, hey, why don't we go make some dinner?"

"Promise not to burn the kitchen down?" Tails quipped with a grin, dodging Sonic's half-hearted kick with a laugh.

"I can certainly help," Shadow offered, pausing for a moment as he rose from his seat, "Not in burning the kitchen down, but with cooking."

"Look at this guy," Sonic chuckled, wrapping an arm around Shadow's shoulders and directing him towards the door into the house, "He's got jokes!"

"I wasn't joking?"

"That makes it even funnier, Shads."

The two walked back into the house, a quiet, thoughtful hum leaving Shadow after a moment. "Why do you call me that?"

"Huh?" Sonic replied rather eloquently, turning his head slightly as they walked into the kitchen, "Call you what?"

"Shads."

"Oh! Uh…it's a nickname."

"A nickname?"

"Yeah. A shortened version of your name? I started calling you that pretty shortly after we first met," Sonic explained, picking dishes and utensils out of cupboards and drawers to start making pizza - one of the few foods he could manage without destroying the kitchen.

"I see," Shadow hummed, watching Sonic intently, "Do you have one?"

"A nickname? Not really. A few monikers that the press like to use, but my name is already pretty short, y'know? There's not much you can really do with 'Sonic'," he replied with an easy shrug, setting a canister of flour on the counter, "Why?"

"Just curiosity, I suppose. It's odd. I can remember basic things, like the alphabet, basic math, things like that. But, other concepts that seem rather straight forward, like 'nicknames' I don't have any recollection of. Is that strange?"

Sonic hummed in thought for a moment, measuring flour into a bowl, along with a handful of other dry ingredients. "I mean…No, I don't think so? As I gathered, you were born and raised on a spaceship, so I'm sure there are loads of things that you weren't taught because of that."

"A spaceship?" Shadow echoed, his ears perking forward in interest as Sonic passed him the bowl of ingredients, along with a spoon.

"Yeah," Sonic chuckled, pouring water into the bowl and quickly instructing Shadow to mix everything together, "Though, I guess less of a spaceship, and more of a space station? You can still see it sometimes, at night. Y'know…admittedly, we didn't know each other for very long before everything sort of went sideways, so I don't know a whole lot, but I can fill you in on the handful of information I do have?"

"Please!"

Sonic laughed lightly at Shadow's enthusiasm, dumping a can of tomato paste into a bowl, followed by a jar of sauce and a variety of spices. He racked his brain for all of the information that Rouge had dug up during and after the events on the ARK. "Okay. Well, like I said, you were born on a space station. It was called Space Colony ARK, and I say born, but I guess it was more like…grown? This scientist called Gerald made you to try and help cure his granddaughter. This was back in the 50's, I think? It's been, like, 50 years since then, and you were in stasis for that. Uh, but I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry. So, yeah, I don't really know how old you were when you became, like, conscious? But apparently you were schooled along side Gerald's granddaughter, and you guys were close. Her name was Maria, if I'm remembering right."

"Maria," Shadow repeated to himself quietly, his stirring slowing momentarily, before he eagerly looked back to Sonic. "What else?"

"Ah, well," Sonic hummed, setting the sauce he'd made aside to start chopping up some vegetables. He dithered for a moment, deciding that, for now, it was probably best to skip the rather tragic end of Maria and the way GUN raided the colony before putting Shadow on ice. And maybe the fact that Shadow was probably part alien. He cleared his throat, shrugging a bit. "A lot of the records are pretty scrambled and some of them were destroyed," not a lie, "so I'm not entirely sure what happened," a total lie, "but a few years passed with you living in the colony, and then you were frozen. I'm sorry to say that Gerald and Maria have both passed away since then, too."

"Oh," Shadow visibly wilted, turning his sad crimson gaze down into the dough in front of him, "So…Do I have any family left?"

Sonic paused in his chopping, reaching across the counter to give Shadow's arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry, Shads. That I don't know for sure, but, I don't think so? There are no records that I've seen that would say so."

"…I see."

"B-but, y'know! That doesn't mean you can't build yourself a new family, right?! Tails and I were both orphans, and we're family now," Sonic's mouth ran before he could think about any of the words coming out of it, "And we've got all sorts of friends that are just like family to us, too. You can start building your own little found family, y'know? You can count Tails and I as friends, for sure."

Shadow lifted his gaze, fixing Sonic with a stare so hopeful that the blue hedgehog was pretty sure he would rather die than disappoint. "Really? But, you barely know me."

"I know what's important," Sonic said with a firm nod, "After you got unfrozen, some bad stuff happened, and you helped us defeat the bad guys and save Mobius. I know you have a good heart, and that's all I need."

"Thank you, Sonic," Shadow murmured, his voice thick with emotions that Sonic feared he may just break under if he wasn't careful.

"Of course, Shadow."

Dinner was a relatively uneventful affair after that. The pizza was only mildly burnt, as Sonic got too caught up teaching Shadow how to play 'Go Fish' while it was in the oven. The two had wound up squabbling over a card that Sonic had said he didn't have, but he had to, since Shadow held its pair in his hand and there were no more cards on the board. It was a playfully bitter discussion over dinner, with Tails cackling when he found the wayward card on the floor as they cleaned up the dishes, half tucked under the leg of the table.

"Just admit you were cheating."

"It's not cheating if I didn't even know it was on the floor."

"A likely story."

Tails snorted at the playful banter between the two hedgehogs, more than happy to see his brother back in the chipper spirits he was used to. He'd been worried ever since they'd come back home after the ARK, when Sonic only seemed to dip deeper and deeper into his own dismal thoughts. With Shadow back, it was like those months of wallowing hadn't even occurred.

"Well, I'm going to go back to working in the garage," Tails hummed, more than happy to leave Sonic and Shadow to their own devices to bond.

"Don't stay up too late, little bro," Sonic called as he wandered into the living room and flopped down onto the couch.

"I'll keep an eye on the time," Tails said, pausing in the hallway.

"That's a bold-faced lie if I ever heard one," Sonic snorted, shifting to grin at Tails over the back of the couch.

"Well…I'll try?"

"Not even close."

"I'll go to bed when you come bug me to?"

"The truth is all I ask for," Sonic laughed, sliding back down into a slouch.

Tails hummed, half hiding his grin as he watched Shadow move to sit next to his brother, and Sonic almost immediately flop over to lean into Shadow's space. It was somewhat odd to see Sonic being so physical with someone so quickly, but it was also refreshing. His older brother tended to keep himself well guarded, even around his closest friends. But there was just something about Shadow that made Sonic drop all those walls almost instantly. Perhaps it was the fact that Shadow had been the only creature that could keep up with him, or maybe it was the odd link they seemed to have now due to the chaos emeralds. Either way, Tails was just happy to see his brother happy, and quietly slipped away to the garage as Sonic began regaling Shadow with the merits of the 'Chaos in Space' movie series.

An hour and a half later found Sonic dozing off on the couch as the end credits of the movie rolled, listing to the side enough that he was leaning on Shadow's shoulder.

"Hey," the hybrid murmured, nudging Sonic gently, causing the other to jolt upright with a snort.

"I'm awake!" Sonic cried, before blue ears swiveled rapidly towards the deep, warm rumble of a chuckle that Shadow let out. Sonic blinked, surprised by the soft smile that greeted him as he turned his head to regard the hybrid curiously. In the time he'd known Shadow, he'd only ever seen variations of frowns, scowls and sneers on the other's face, but he had to admit that a smile truly suited him.

"You should, perhaps, think about going to bed? If you're falling asleep, I can only imagine that Tails is already passed out," Shadow hummed, tilting his head in the direction of the garage.

"Yeah," Sonic said slowly, taking a moment to commit the soft look on Shadow's face to memory before he shoved himself off the couch, stretching with a groan and a pop of his spine. "I'll go shuffle him off to bed. Uh," he paused, realizing they hadn't actually discussed where Shadow was going to sleep. "Sorry, it just occurred to me, but, uh…do you mind sleeping on the couch? We don't have a guest room, so it's the only extra space we have."

"I'm more than happy to accept any space you can make for me," Shadow replied with a small nod of his head.

"Cool! Great, uhm," Sonic stuttered, not particularly sure why he suddenly felt like there were butterflies swarming in his gut as Shadow continued to smile at him so warmly, "I'll bring some blankets and stuff back down for you in a minute, okay?"

"I'll be here."

"You sure will," Sonic chirped back, feeling stupid about the words as soon as they left his mouth, quickly exiting the room. He questioned himself quietly under his breath as he walked into the garage, unsure as to why seeing Shadow happy and calm made him feel so odd. The best way he could figure to describe it was 'fuzzy', and maybe 'fluttery'. Maybe it was because the last time he'd seen the dark hedgehog he was in pain and letting himself fall to his apparent demise, so perhaps seeing him so content filled Sonic with some sort of feeling of accomplishment? Though, he'd never really felt that way after saving any of his other friends. Maybe, then, it was the rush of relief knowing that Shadow had survived his fall, and Sonic hadn't truly failed in saving him? That had to be it, he thought to himself as he scooped an unconscious Tails into his arms and carried him up to his bedroom.

When he returned to the living room with spare blankets and pillows, he found Shadow placing the movie case back on the shelf with very bare hands. He froze, trying not to focus too hard on the way the red stripes on Shadows arms extended down to his middle finger, or the fact that there was only one golden inhibitor ring shining around his wrists instead of two, dropping his armload of bedding with a sharp cry of, "What're you doing?!"

Looking rather alarmed, Shadow turned to Sonic quickly, nearly dropping the DVD case he'd been holding. "Putting the movie away? Was that not the correct spot?"

"No, not that," Sonic hurried to say, scanning the room for Shadows gloves and swiftly scooping them up from where they lay on the coffee table, "Put these back on!"

Shadow took the gloves with a slight frown, tugging them on slowly. "May I ask as to why you reacted in such a way to the removal of my gloves? Should I not be touching things in your home without them?"

"No, it's not that," Sonic grumbled, rubbing at his flushed cheeks, "I guess that's just another thing you wouldn't have learned up on the ARK. Mobians don't generally show their hands or feet to people who they aren't close to. Usually close friends, family, or partners."

"Why is that?" Shadow asked, now looking even more confused, and perhaps slightly hurt. "Did you not say that I could count you and Tails as friends?"

"Y-yes! That's not-" Sonic grunted, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead, "It's more because you've only been here for, like, a day. It's a trust thing, y'know? Not that I don't find it real flattering that you'd trust Tails and I so readily, but hand and feet pads are the softest spot on a Mobians body, so folks don't tend to just show 'em off, y'know? It's, like, a tender area? Private, I guess? You should really only be taking your gloves off around someone you really trust or have known for a long time."

"Oh! Oh, I see," Shadow hummed, rubbing his thumb absently against the palm of his hand, "It's a modesty thing. Like, ah, clothing for humans?"

"Yeah, exactly," Sonic huffed, dragging his fingers through his quills. "Sorry for reacting like that, by the way. It just sort of caught me off guard."

"It's alright. I'm sorry for my inappropriate behavior. Intentional or not. I only removed them as I thought we were preparing for sleep. I thought it might be more comfortable without them."

"No sweat, Shads. I just gotta remember that a lot of stuff is probably gonna be culture shock for you," Sonic hummed, clapping his hands together, "Anyway! I brought all the extra blankets we had upstairs. I don't know how cold it might get down here, and I know at least one of the blankets is deceptively scratchy, so I figured I may as well bring them all."

Shadow chuckled, moving around the couch to gather the blankets from the floor, draping them over the back of the couch. "Thank you. That was very thoughtful."

"I do my best." With that, Sonic bid Shadow good night and headed up to his room.

Come morning, Sonic woke to the sweet smell of pancakes filling the air. He rose drowsily, figuring Tails must have gotten up early to try his hand at making breakfast for their guest. The kit was becoming a deft hand at cooking, and Sonic was more than pleased, since that meant he didn't have to tempt the fates by using the stove as often. He trotted down the stairs, yawning and stretching his arms over his head as he entered the kitchen. "It smells great in here!"

"Thank you. I hope they taste as good as they smell."

Sonic paused in the doorway, fully not having expected to find Shadow wearing Sonic's rarely used red apron with a spatula in his hand and pancake batter smeared across his cheek. He smiled warmly at Sonic, and something about the simple, domestic sight made Sonic's cheeks heat and his heart give a wayward thump in his chest. He shook his head quickly and cleared his throat when he realized he was staring. "I'm sure they do," he quickly reassured, moving to sit at the kitchen table, watching as Shadow flipped a couple of finished pancakes onto a plate.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty to make breakfast this morning," the hybrid commented, carefully pouring batter into the pan.

"Not at all," Sonic hummed, propping his chin in the palm of his hand, "Though, I am curious…how did you know where everything was? Or how to make pancakes, for that matter?"

"Ah," Shadow chuckled, turning to face Sonic with a lopsided smile, "I memorized the kitchen last night when we were making dinner. And I noticed a small shelf of cook books last night, as well. When I got up this morning I flipped through them until I found the relatively simple recipe for pancakes, which I knew you had all of the ingredients for. I thought it may be an appropriate gesture, as thanks, for allowing me to stay on your couch."

"That's real nice of you, Shads," Sonic said, "But, y'know, you don't have to try and repay us. I'm just happy to see you alive, honestly."

Shadow made a pleased little humming sound, nodding slightly as he turned back to the stove. "Even still. I wish to be of some use, even if it's as simple as making breakfast, while you're helping me. It feels…right. To help."

Sonic opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted as Tails came careening into the kitchen. "I told you not to try and make pancakes again, Sonic!" he all but shrieked, before he realized that the wrong colored hedgehog was stood at the stove. "…Oh." He glanced between the two, huffing quietly at Sonic's grin of amusement, before offering an apologetic smile to Shadows alarmed expression. "Sorry. The last time Sonic tried to make pancakes he somehow started a grease fire in the pan, and then tried to put it out with water."

"…How? There isn't even any grease used in this recipe?" Shadow asked, arching a brow at the blue hedgehog.

"Talent," was all Sonic had to say for himself with a shrug.

Breakfast went smoothly after that, aside from Tails insisting that Shadow try to add mint chips to his pancakes and the candy melting to the bottom of the pan, causing a rather hard mess to clean. Luckily, Shadow had made more than enough for the three of them before the burnt sugar fiasco, so they simply left the pan in the sink to soak. It was while Shadow was trying to scrub said pan clean after the trio had finished eating, Tails had gone off to the garage, and Sonic was putting the cleaned dishes away that an unexpected knock came from the door.

"I'll be right back, Shads," Sonic hummed, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder, "Why don't you just let that thing sit to soak some more?"

"It is a challenge I will not back down from," Shadow grunted, gritting his teeth as he scrapped the scouring pad against the metal.

"Whatever floats your boat, then," Sonic snorted, before trotting off to the front door as another knock sounded. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" When he opened the door he wasn't quite sure who he had been expecting, but it certainty wasn't Amy in a bright pink raincoat with a picnic basket over her arm.

"Good morning!" she chirped, pushing in past Sonic without waiting to be invited inside, "I thought I would come by with some muffins for breakfast! You still seemed pretty down yesterday when you left, so I figured I'd pop by to see if I couldn't brighten your spirits a bit more." She carefully set her basket down before taking off her raincoat and boots. "Where's Tails? I brought him some mint chocolate muffins!"

"Hiya, Amy," Sonic hummed, unable to help himself as he rolled his eyes, though it was fond. He shut the door and turned to her just as she picked her basket back up. "The kid's already in the garage tinkering away on whatever gizmo or gadget currently has his interest. Though, I think we'll save the muffins for later. We had a pretty big breakfast this morning."

"Oh? What did you have?" Amy asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Pancakes."

"And how burnt is the stovetop this time?"

"I'll have you know that I did not do the cooking, so the stove is perfectly intact. Though, I'm pretty sure we're going to need to replace the frying pan."

"I have good news for you," Shadows voice carried from the kitchen, before he appeared in the hallway with a triumphant little smirk, "You won't need to replace the pan."

Amy gaped at the appearance of the hybrid, her basket of muffins hitting the floor with a quiet crunch of wicker. "Shadow?!"

"Good morning," Shadow offered with a slight nod of his head.

"You…We thought you died!" she cried, hands clutched to her chest.

"I can understand where that miscommunication happened, but I assure you that I am very much alive."

"Wh-how?!"

Sonic stepped around Amy, snagging her fallen basket from the floor as he went, and stopping next to Shadow with a grin. "He showed up in the front yard when I was on my way home from your place yesterday."

"That doesn't explain how!" Amy retorted, taking a step forward, "You fell from orbit! There's no way you could have survived that."

"Well, he did," Sonic snorted, a light frown on his face, "He's standing right in front of you, isn't he?"

"No need to get defensive for me, Sonic," Shadow sighed, reaching up to snag the dish towel from the blue hedgehog's shoulder. "Truth be told," he offered to Amy, "I don't remember how I survived." He then turned and walked back into the kitchen, setting to work finishing off with the last of the dishes.

Amy quickly stepped to Sonic's side, grabbing his wrist to stop him just before he followed after Shadow into the kitchen. "Are you sure that's Shadow?" she hissed quietly, casting a quick glance into the kitchen as the hybrid put silverware away. "He's not some high tech robot sent by Eggman, is he?"

"Tails ran tests on him yesterday," Sonic grumbled, pulling his wrist free of Amy's grasp, "He's Shadow."

"He doesn't act like Shadow."

Sonic rolled his eyes, letting out a little puff of air. "He hit his head. He doesn't remember, like, anything. Pretty sure he wasn't even aware of his own name until Tails and I said it to him."

"Well…how did he know to come here? That's suspicious, isn't it?"

"Chaos, Amy," Sonic groaned, shifting his weight to pop his hip as he swung the basket of muffins idly, "Tails figures it has something to do with the chaos emeralds, and how Shadow and I went super right before he fell. He's thinking Shadow felt a pull to come here because we were connected by that experience or something. As soon as the storm lets up we're going to head up to Angel Island to talk to Knuckles and see if he might know more."

"Okay," Amy sighed, fidgeting slightly, "As long as you've done your due diligence."

"Of course. Besides, if he was gonna try and kill us, he had more than ample opportunity to do it last night," Sonic joked with an easy grin, snickering at the way Amy's face went red, before ducking into the kitchen.

"That seemed a bit uncalled for," Shadow murmured to Sonic as the hedgehog placed the basket on the counter next to where the hybrid was putting the last of the plates away into a cupboard.

"What was uncalled for?"

"She's just worried about you," Shadow sighed in place of an answer, gently closing the cupboard, "You shouldn't be so dismissive."

"Eh, she's just a worry wart, and it's fun to rile her up sometimes," Sonic shrugged, though his ears did tip back slightly, betraying the fact that he did feel some remorse for his relatively brisk exchange with Amy. "How did you know what we were talking about, anyway? We were whispering pretty quietly, I thought."

"Mm, apparently I have quite good hearing," Shadow offered, leaning back against the counter next to Sonic, "But, to get back to the point, you're acting as though I'll take some great offense to what she said or her doubts, but there's merit in it. I showed up on your front lawn in the middle of a storm, claiming to have no memory. You have to admit that is somewhat suspicious, even if we did save the world together. I can only assume, as a hero, you have plenty of enemies."

"Yeah, I guess," Sonic muttered, ears fully pinned back in contrition now that he was being scolded, "But it's not like you are here to hurt us or anything. Like I told Amy, you've already had plenty of opportunity, and Tails did run tests on you."

"Yes, but had events not played out the way they did, you put yourself and Tails in danger readily, and without a thought. Perhaps you should heed her words more readily," Shadow countered, frowning slightly as he glanced around the kitchen. "Speaking of, where did she go?"

Sonic blinked, surprised at not having realized sooner that Amy wasn't behind him anymore. Which was probably for the best, given what he and Shadow had just been discussing. "I don't know?" he grumbled, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, "AMY!"

"Wow, there's no need to yell," Amy said, cupping her hands over her ears as she appeared in the kitchen doorway with Tails in tow, "I just went to go say hello to Tails and let him know that I brought muffins."

"And to interrogate me to find out what I thought about Shadow being here," Tails hummed, slipping into the kitchen to dig into the wicker basket and pull out his mint muffin.

"What?! Tails! I had that discussion with you in private," Amy grumbled, folding her arms over her chest.

"You didn't say it was a secret?" Tails countered, turning back to the pink hedgehog once he had his alarmingly green muffin in hand. "Besides, I think Shadow has every right to know that you find him suspicious."

"Wha-Well, I-" Amy scoffed, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as Sonic snickered and Tails offered her nothing but a small shrug. Shadow simply looked mildly uncomfortable at the exchange.

"Anyway, thanks for the muffin, Amy," Tails hummed, sidling back out of the kitchen without a backward glance. Which left the three hedgehogs watching each other awkwardly.

"Amy-" Shadow began only to be cut of swiftly by the pink hedgehog.

"No! No, look…you suddenly appearing when we all thought you died just caught me off guard, and I'm a bit on the over protective side for these two. I know that. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that, so I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so suspicious when I should really just be happy that you survived after helping to save us all," Amy said, looking repentant. "I hope you won't hold it against me, and we can start fresh?"

Shadow let out a short breath, an easy smile on his face as he stepped towards Amy. "I would like that, very much. Though you really didn't need to go to such lengths to apologize. I can appreciate you wanting to protect your friends."

Luckily, in Sonic's opinion, Amy's visit didn't last much longer. With amends made to Shadow, she stayed long enough to riffle through all of Sonic's cupboards, reminding him that he should really have more fruits and vegetables in his pantry, and to offer a tarot reading to Shadow, who though intrigued ultimately turned down the offer. Soon after, she noted that she had promised Vanilla and Cream a visit, so she bid them all farewell with another heartfelt apology to Shadow, before leaving with a cheery wave.

"She seems nice," Shadow hummed as Sonic finally shut the door once Amy was down the front path.

"Yeah, she's one of my best friends. But, she can also be a total pain," Sonic said with a sigh, offering the hybrid a crooked grin. "Sorry about all that. The last couple of days must be getting to be a bit much for you."

"Mmm, that's one way to put it," Shadow sighed, raking his fingers through his quills in a familiar gesture that made Sonic smile. Little things like that gave him no doubts that the Shadow standing in front of him was the same hedgehog that helped him push space colony ARK back into orbit. Even as well tempered and warm as Shadow was now, he was still pretty obviously not a real people person.

The next few days fell into something of a domestic routine, as the rain continued to fall outside. Shadow took it upon himself to make himself home in the kitchen, ensuring his hosts enjoyed three square meals a day. The cook book he had found had gained a permanent spot on the kitchen counter, propped up with a tiny cactus plant that Amy had gifted Sonic ages ago and somehow managed to thrive in their rather haphazard household. Sonic had also decided that his apron was officially Shadow's, since the hybrid had worn it many more times than Sonic could recall ever donning it.

Usually when the rain lasted this long, Sonic felt a nagging, itching urge to duck out of the house and run through the torrent. However, every time he glanced into the kitchen to find Shadow with his apron tied around his waist and a kitchen utensil in hand, he found the urge distinctly absent. For the first time, perhaps in his entire life, Sonic didn't feel the need to run.

Until, of course, life forced him to leave the house.

"I gotta go run some errands - we're starting to run low on a few things since I haven't really gone to the grocery store in a while," Sonic grumbled, hands on his hips as he stared into the pantry.

"I can accompany you, if you'd like?" Shadow offered, tilting his head back to watch Sonic from his place on the couch, book held aloft in his hand.

"Nah," Sonic waved a hand though the air, already in the hallway, slipping on his shoes and taking his rain coat from its hook, "I'll be back in a flash! You just relax. Finish the book you've been reading."

"If you're sure," Shadow agreed with a small nod, wincing slightly as Sonic opened the door to the downpour still going on outside. "Be careful, at least."

"I'm always careful, Shads," Sonic said with a grin, earning a snort from the hybrid.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Sonic simply laughed at the little quip, his heart light at the easy banter he had with Shadow. It made him wonder if, given time, he would have managed to garner the same sort of rapport with the dark hedgehog if he hadn't lost his memory. "Make sure Tails doesn't burn the house down while I'm gone," he chirped, dashing out into the rain.

With that Shadow got up and shuffled to the door to shut it, before turning to the living room to do as Sonic suggested and continue with his book. He had chosen it the second day he'd been in the house and was finding it rather dry and difficult to get through. He was debating on putting it back and choosing a different book entirely, as a thick tome of Arthurian legends had caught his eye the day before, but he'd wanted to at least try to get through the first novel he'd chosen before delving into that.

Sonic was gone for barely five minutes when the thunder began.

"Sonic?!" Tails panicked voice suddenly sounded much closer than Shadow was anticipating. He glanced up from his lackluster novel just in time to watch an orange blur zip past the living room entrance towards the kitchen, before turning and going upstairs. Another rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, and the orange blur bolted into the living room, nearly crashing into Shadow, who had gotten up and moved to the hallway to see why Tails was looking for Sonic.

"Is everything all right?" the hybrid asked, catching Tails by the shoulders as the fox kit looked around, obviously anxious and jittery.

"Where's Sonic?" Tails asked instead of answering Shadow, flinching as lighting lit up the living room window.

"He just went to go run some errands. He said he would be back shortly. Tails, you're shaking. Please, what's the matter?" Shadow gently steered the fox kit towards the couch, taking note of the way Tails ears twitched and swiveled at the sounds of the storm outside.

"I…It's embarrassing," Tails murmured, flinching hard at another rumble of thunder.

"Ah," Shadow hummed, nodding slightly as he easily put two and two together, "Would you like a distraction from the storm?"

"I had a distraction," Tails muttered, letting Shadow sit him on the couch, "I'm working on a new upgrade for our communicators. I just," he cringed at another flash of lighting, "I don't like…thunder and lightning."

"They are both rather startling. I can see why they would bother you," Shadow said with a small nod, moving to the book shelf, pulling out the book of legends he had been eyeing before Tails ran through the house like a small orange whirlwind. If this wasn't a sign to give up on his previous novel, then he wasn't sure what was.

"But I'm almost nine. I'm too old for thunder and lightning to scare me," Tails grumped, folding his arms over his chest as he slumped into the couch, tails curled into his lap. "I've read books about what causes them and I understand what they are. They shouldn't bother me like this."

"I don't think you're being very fair to yourself about this," Shadow stated calmly, settling himself on the couch next to Tails, book in hand, "You're still young, and even if you weren't, you're allowed to be scared of things. Thunder is loud and lightning is dangerous. It makes sense to be frightened of them."

"Yeah, I guess," Tails sighed, ears flat as he dug his fingers into the fur of his namesake. "I just don't like feeling scared like this. I've fought robots and faced the end of the world! The sound of rapidly heating and cooling air shouldn't scare me like this."

"Again," Shadow sighed, reaching out to gently pat at Tail's shoulder, "You are allowed to be frightened. Sometimes things just scare us, without explanation. It's perfectly normal. I'm afraid of heights."

"You are? But you have air shoes that let you hover?" Tails said with a slight frown, "And you can use chaos control."

Shadow tilted his head with a mildly confused smile on his face. "Uh…I'm going to assume those are things that would keep me from falling?"

"Oh! Right. Yeah. Your shoes, you can channel chaos energy through them to skate over the ground and if you push enough energy into them you can sort of hover or fly. Chaos control is an ability you have that lets you teleport."

Shadow chuckled, arching an eyebrow at Tails in amusement. "I enjoy how you said all of this to me as though I have any idea as to what you're talking about. But, I do believe that's a lesson you can teach me another day," the hybrid held his chosen book of legends up, wiggling it slightly, "Would you like to join me for a story?"

Tails eyed the book, his cheeks flushed from being called out on his mini ramble about Shadows abilities. "Yeah, okay," he murmured with a slight nod, trying his best to ignore the rumble of thunder in the distance.

When Sonic arrived home, mildly short of breath from running through the rain to get home as fast as he could, knowing Tails would not be doing well with the sudden and loud turn the storm had taken, he was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with the sight of Shadow curled into the corner of the couch, book in hand and Tails tucked under his arm, fast asleep. Shadow glanced up as Sonic stepped through the door, quickly gesturing for the other hedgehog to be quiet. The hero gave a short nod, setting his bags down, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his jacket in quick succession as quietly as he could.

"How did you manage to get him to sleep?" Sonic whispered once he was free and clear of his rain gear, shuffling into the living room, "Usually the only way to calm him down during a thunder storm is huddling in a pillow fort until it passes."

Shadow chuckled, quietly, shrugging only one shoulder so he wouldn't disturb the fox kit. "We talked a little, but mostly I read him stories from a book of legends."

"Oh, I could see that working. You've got a nice timber for story telling," Sonic hummed absently, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, reaching out to gently pet Tails' fur, smiling as his brother snuffled in his sleep.

"Do you think so?"

Sonic looked up curiously at Shadow's quiet question, his heart skipping a beat at finding the hybrid with a light flush over his cheeks and a tiny smile on his lips. He swallowed thickly, forcing a grin onto his own face. "Of course. You've got a really nice voice, Shads."

A pleased hum was Sonic's only reply for a moment as Shadow's eyes drifted down to watch the snoozing kit. After a beat he let out a little breath, glancing back up at the blue hedgehog. "This felt…familiar. Like I've done something like this before."

Sonic's ears perked forward in curiosity, his head tilting slightly. "Oh? Do you think it's something that you maybe used to do with Maria? Like, read stories together?"

"Perhaps," Shadow hummed, gaze a bit distant as he spoke, as if he were reliving a memory in his mind, "More like…comforting each other while afraid? It's vague." He grunted quietly, dipping his head, light frown on his face. "I'm sorry. I promise, I am trying to remember. Nothing seems to be very forthcoming, though."

"Hey, hey," Sonic cooed, reaching past Tails to rest a hand on Shadow's knee, "There's no rush. Tails and I are more than happy to have you for as long as you need. As long as you don't mind living on our couch. Besides, it's only been, like, a week. Not exactly a hardship, y'know?"

"It is surprisingly comfortable for being so well worn," the hybrid said with a small nod, only to shake his head a moment later. He lifted a hand to place it over Sonic's, looking contrite as he faced the hero of Mobius. "I just feel like I'm intruding, and not offering enough for taking up space in your home. If I could recover my memory faster, I would be able to get out of your quills."

"Well, that's the biggest load of bologna I've ever heard," Sonic hissed with a snort, "I invited you in, and I never expected anything from you. The fact that you've taken over the kitchen and make sure Tails and I get the most amazing meals that stovetop has ever seen is above and beyond anything I could've asked for. Don't push yourself, Shads. Seriously. You're totally fine."

Both hedgehogs glanced down as Tails grumbled something in his sleep, pressing his face into Shadow's fur with a soft whine. His tails twitched in his sleep, earning a soft laugh from Sonic. He rose and gently picked the kit up from the couch, rubbing his back as he groaned in his sleep. "I'm going to take him up to his room. Would you mind putting the groceries away while I do?"

"Of course," Shadow nodded, setting aside the book of legends to rise from the couch as well. He quickly stopped Sonic before he could get too far with a hand on his arm, flushing slightly at the look of concern Sonic gave him. "I just wanted to say…thank you. For your kindness, and your understanding. I know you knew me, before, and we were allies, but you didn't need to open your home to me. I appreciate it. Truly."

Sonic had to bite his tongue to resist his usual habit of retorting to sincerity with a quippy remark. He knew that doing so would only serve to push Shadow away, and that was truly the last thing he wanted to do. Instead he offered the hybrid a smile, hoisting Tails up on his hip a little as the kit began to slowly slip in his grip. "Anytime, Shadow. I mean it," he said simply, finally turning to take Tails upstairs.

While upstairs, Sonic let his mind wander as he tucked Tails into bed. The heartfelt comments from Shadow wanting to do more for Sonic and Tails made the blue hedgehog realize he could do more for Shadow. His mind wandered to the inhibitor ring missing from Shadows wrist, and the fact that he knew exactly where it was, and where it had been for quite some time.

He wandered into his bedroom once he'd finished tucking Tails into bed, his eyes instantly landing on his bedside table. He bit his lip as he walked over to it, slowly pulling the drawer out to reveal the shining gold band resting inside. Sonic had pulled it free of Shadow's wrist when he'd made a grab for the falling hybrid, nearly dropping it when he'd scrambled to try again for Shadow's hand. When Shadow had fallen too far out of reach and Sonic knew he had to get back onto the ARK or risk falling as well, he'd tucked it into his quills. He'd offered it to Rouge when he'd made it back, but she'd pushed it back into his hands with a shake of her head. Looking back on it, he was grateful to her for letting him keep it. Gently, he pulled it from its resting place and tucked it into his quills before heading back downstairs.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs he found the groceries gone from the hallway, presumably stored safely away in their proper places, and Shadow curled up in the corner of the couch again with the book of legends back in his hand.

"It's a pretty good book, huh?" Sonic commented idly as he rounded the couch, sitting himself on the opposite end to Shadow, "It's one of my favorites."

The hybrid looked up, a warm smile on his face. "It's quite good. I'm enjoying the stories about Sir Lancelot."

"Glad to hear it," Sonic hummed, his own smile not quite reaching his eyes as he dug into his quills for the ring. "Hey, uhm…do you mind if I talk to you?"

"Of course," Shadow said, snapping the book shut and giving Sonic his undivided attention without hesitation, "What is it?"

"First, thanks for putting away the groceries. And, uhm, second," he offered the inhibitor ring to Shadow, who simply looked confused as he reached out for it.

"Is this mine?"

"Yeah. It's a matching set of four. Uhm, I accidentally took it when I tried to grab you before you fell. I grabbed it instead of your wrist," Sonic muttered, watching as Shadow flipped it over in his hands, before carefully securing it around his wrist. "Do you remember what they are?"

"I feel like they're important? But not much more than that," Shadow offered, twisting his wrist this way and that, his gaze lifting to Sonic's after a beat. "What are they?"

"Inhibitor rings," Sonic stated, turning sideways and bringing his knee up onto the couch so he could fully face Shadow, "According to the files, from what I can remember, the guy who created you, Gerald, he made you with too much chaos energy - that's this energy that flows through pretty much everything on Mobius in small doses. If something has too much chaos energy, it can become unstable. In your case, you have so much that it could destroy you if you aren't careful. The inhibitor rings help to regulate it and keep you stable."

"I see," Shadow murmured, eyes drawn back down to the glinting gold around his wrists. He flipped his hand back and forth, a slight frown on his muzzle. "If you thought I was dead, and they're just some sort of dampener, why did you keep it?"

"Because it was all I had left of you," Sonic admitted quietly, tipping his head to lean it against the back of the couch, watching Shadow fiddle with the newly reacquired ring. "We didn't know each other for very long, but you were the very first person who could keep up with me step for step and blow for blow. I don't think you thought much of it at the time, but it was really pretty eye opening to me. Because of that, you became important to me, and when I couldn't save you, well…Having something, even just one of your inhibitor rings, really helped me get through some stuff."

"Sonic," Shadow's voice was hushed as he spoke, while reaching a hand out towards the other.

"Heh, yeah," Sonic suddenly cleared his throat, turning his head away and glancing out the window. "Oh, hey," he said quickly, rising from the couch and stretching his arms over his head, trying to ignore the way Shadow was looking at him, "it looks like the rain finally stopped. We should be able to go up to Angel Island tomorrow." He chanced the briefest of glances at Shadow, his heart lurching in his chest at the look on the other's face. Quickly he turned on his heel, hoping Shadow didn't notice the flush on his cheeks. "I bought ingredients for chili dogs, so why don't I go start working on dinner while you read some more? I've got a wicked awesome recipe that I think you'll love," Sonic said quickly, maneuvering around the couch and exiting the room as quickly as possible. Feelings weren't really his forte, let alone talking about them. He didn't see the way the hybrid fiddled with his returned ring, clutching it to his chest as Sonic disappeared into the kitchen.

Shadow let the conversation rest, deciding that, based on Sonic's reaction it would probably be best to let the blue hedgehog come to him, rather than push anything. It was pretty obvious that his death had impacted Sonic quite a bit, even if it turned out to be temporary. His current lack of memories probably wasn't very helpful, either. He wondered idly just how important he really was to the other before everything that had happened. He sighed quietly, turning his attention back to his book as Sonic had suggested until he was eventually called into the kitchen for dinner.

The next day found the trio heading into the small hangar Sonic and Tails had in their backyard, which housed the Tornado. Tails immediately ran to begin doing pre flight checks of the plane to ensure everything would be in full working order for their flight, while Sonic stood back with a pleased little smile on his face as he watched the fox kit work. Meanwhile, Shadow stared up at the plane as though it was the harbinger of his doom.

It took a few solid minutes before Sonic clued in to Shadow's trepidation, and even at that it was only because the hybrid had begun to shake slightly. He blinked in surprise, turning to Shadow quickly, hands in the air but not quite sure what to do with them. "Shadow? Hey, what's up? You okay?"

Shadow shook his head slightly, wringing his hands in front of himself hard enough for the leather of his gloves to squeak slightly. "I didn't realize we would need to fly to Angel Island."

"Well…yeah? What did you think I meant when I said we'd need to go 'up'? And the fact that we had to wait for the rain to stop?"

"That's a perfectly common phrase people use when traveling anywhere!" Shadow snapped, his ears pinning back as he continued to stare up at the plane, "People say they are travelling 'up' in a general sense, unless they're definitively going south. I just assumed that was the case! And I thought, perhaps, you just didn't like traveling in the rain. That's perfectly feasible!"

"Woah there, hey," Sonic tried to sooth, placing his hand gently on Shadow's shoulder frowning slightly as the hybrid flinched and hunched in on himself. "It's perfectly safe. Tails and I fly the Tornado all the time. You can even sit in the second seat instead of riding on the wing, okay?"

"On the wing?!" Shadow turned wide eyes on Sonic, his pupils barely pinpricks as his breath started to come in little gasps.

"Woah!" Sonic raised his hands in a placating gesture, "I said you could sit in the plane! Plus, you have your air shoes if anything goes wonky. You're totally safe, Shadow." He frowned when all he got in response to his reassurance was Shadow's gaze snapping back to the plane, the hybrid obviously close to a full blown panic attack.

"Oh yeah," Tails drawled, popping up from under the plane, a smear of oil adorning his cheek, "I forgot he said he was afraid of heights."

"What?!" Sonic turned an accusatory glare at Tails, "When was this?!"

"Uh…Yesterday? While you were out running errands. He told me everyone was allowed to be afraid of things when I said I was too old to be afraid of thunder, and that he was afraid of heights," Tails offered, looking a bit sheepish. "I kind of had other things on my mind at the time, so I sort of forgot."

"Okay, setting aside the fact that Shadow apparently remembered something about himself, we need to calm him down," Sonic said, waving a hand through the air and turning his attention back to the panicking hedgehog next to him. "Let's get him outside. Maybe not being directly in front of the plane will help."

"Right," Tails said with a quick nod, moving forward and waving his arms in the air to get Shadow's attention. It seemed to work well enough, as Shadow's gaze settled on him after a moment. Sonic took the opportunity to duck behind the hybrid and grab his shoulders, quickly turning him and steering him out of the hangar before he could properly register what was going on.

Once outside Shadow's shoulder's immediately dropped, his posture becoming more embarrassed than stressed out as his tail dipped and he ducked his head slightly. "I-I'm sorry," he murmured, half covering his face with a hand, his muzzle flushing, "I don't know what came over me. That was entirely uncalled for."

"It's totally okay, Shads. No worries," Sonic reassured, moving to stand in front of Shadow, pulling his hands away from his face. "Like you said to Tails, everyone is allowed to be afraid. Admittedly, it would've been nice if I'd known you were afraid of heights so I could've warned you properly, but we'll blame that on Tails."

"Hey!"

"You had an entire day to remember and tell me. Don't act like this isn't a little bit on you."

"That's fair, I guess…"

Sonic rolled his eyes with a chuckle, nodding his head towards the hangar. "Go finish up getting the Tornado ready. I'll stay out here with Shadow."

"Okay," Tails sighed, pausing as he passed by the embarrassed hedgehog, "Sorry for not warning you yesterday."

"It's alright. You were distracted by the storm. It's understandable," Shadow murmured, offering Tails a wobbly little smile.

With that, Tails dashed back into the hangar, leaving Sonic holding Shadow's hands and standing somewhat awkwardly in the yard. He chewed on his lip for a moment, trying to figure out what he could do to make Shadow feel better when the hybrid turned his hands in Sonics to return his grip. The blue hedgehog blinked in surprise, watching Shadow as the hybrid squirmed slightly under his scrutiny.

"I truly am sorry for how I reacted," Shadow lamented, gaze firmly on the ground, "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"Seriously, it's totally fine," Sonic said with a light little laugh, "That was pretty low on the scale of negative reactions I've had to deal with."

"Still," Shadow murmured, giving Sonic's hands a little squeeze, "Perhaps you could explain to me how my shoes can apparently help me? That may help ease my mind, if I know how they're supposed to work."

"Oh, jeez," Sonic snorted quietly, pulling one of his hands free to rub at his quills absently, "That's gonna be a bit of a tough one, Shads. I only kinda know how they work, from those files I told you about? Uh…The best explanation I can really give you is that you push chaos energy into them, and they convert it into a sort of burst of air? When you use them it kinda of looks like you're skating on air."

"Tails mentioned something about that," Shadow murmured, his other hand sliding free of Sonic's as he looked down at his feet. "But, how do I do that?"

Sonic groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Asking all the hard questions today, aren't ya?" He sighed, tilting his head to stare into the sky, humming and hawing for a minute, finally looking back to Shadow after a beat, his muzzle scrunched in what almost appeared to be discomfort. "First you gotta kinda…feel the energy inside you?" he tried to explain, placing a hand over his chest, "Once you've got it, you just…push it to where you want it to go with, like, your mind? Mine's usually centered around my legs so I can run fast." He grunted, dropping his arms to his sides, offering Shadow an apologetic smile. "I'm not real good at explaining, sorry. I've never had to think really about it before. It just sort of happens."

Shadow screwed up his nose at the explanation, letting out a disgruntled breath. "That's not very helpful," he grumbled, earning a short laugh from Sonic.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, again."

"It's fine, I just…that's very vague," the hybrid sighed, closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders back, "But I'll try." He frowned in concentration as he lifted a hand to rest over his chest, where Sonic had placed his own hand when trying his best to explain.

"That's it," he heard Sonic's voice approach, the blue hedgehogs warmth encroaching into his space, a shiver zipping up his spine at the sudden proximity, "It's kinda like feeling when someone is close by, but you can't see them. But with energy, inside you. Ehhhh, that's a terrible analogy."

Shadow couldn't help but chuckle at Sonic half babbling to himself, tilting his head in the direction he believed the hedgehog to be, while trying to ignore the way his heart seemed to thrum at the other's proximity. "If you're trying to be helpful, it's not really working."

"Fine, fine, I'll shut up. But don't say I didn't try."

"Noted," the hybrid snorted, shifting his focus inwards to try and feel what Sonic was talking about. He thought that, perhaps, he could sense what Sonic meant, an odd sort of fuzzy warm feeling in the center of his chest. When he tried to reach for it, it almost felt like it reacted to him, reaching back and pulling him in. Suddenly, what had started off feeling so small and warm was vast and overwhelming, like it was trying to consume him. He struggled against it, his face twisting in discomfort while he mentally grappled with the energy that threatened to devour him. It took mere moments in the physical world, but in Shadow's mind it felt like an eternity before he managed to wrangle the energy and bend it to his will. He pushed it, as Sonic had instructed, until it felt like something inside him snapped into place, his eyes opening with a sharp gasp.

"Heyyy! Shadow! Look at you!" Sonic's voice almost sounded garbled to his ears as he readjusted his focus to the physical world, squinting slightly in the bright sunlight.

"Wh-what?" Shadow grunted intelligently, blinking owlishly at Sonic as the other grinned widely at him.

"Your skates! You did it," Sonic said, pointing down to Shadows shoes, which were lifting the hybrid a few inches from the ground.

"Oh…oh!" Shadow allowed a grin to slowly creep over his muzzle, his tail wagging happily as he shifted back and forth on his shoes, watching as little sparks of red energy jumped from them, "I did it!" He experimented briefly with gliding across the grass, chewing on his lip as he figured out how to shift his feet to go in different directions, before seeing just how much energy it took to levitate himself higher into the air. He let out a joyous little laugh as he rose a foot or so up, doing a short pirouette in the air and turning a brilliant grin towards Sonic. "This is amazing!"

Although Sonic was elated for Shadow, he was truly more mesmerized by how light and carefree Shadow looked in those moments. Free of the weight of his promise to Maria and all of what had happened on the ARK, Sonic could see the kind of hedgehog Shadow could have been if GUN hadn't interfered. Under his usual gruff, cold exterior, Sonic now knew that Shadow had a soft, warm heart full of wonder. It made his own heart bleed, knowing that one day when Shadow inevitably got his memories back that all of this would drown in all of the darkness that had so unfairly been dumped onto him. He felt his smile slowly slip from his lips as he watched Shadow practically dance through the air, now perfectly understanding as to why Maria sacrificed herself for this hedgehog. He deserved to be saved.

"Sonic?" Shadow's voice brought Sonic out of his reverie, quickly shaking his head and plastering his trademark grin on his face.

"Sorry! Lost in my own head there for a sec," he laughed, propping his hands on his hips and watching as Shadow touched back down onto the ground, "So…you feeling better about flying now that you can work your shoes?"

"I…yes, I think so," the hybrid hummed after pausing to think for a moment, offering a short nod and a hesitant smile. "Though, I do still think I would prefer to sit in the second seat. But, please tell me it won't be a long flight? It doesn't exactly give me the warmest feeling, knowing you'll be riding on the wing."

"Hey, don't sweat it! It's how I always ride on the Tornado. It's more fun, in my opinion," Sonic said with an easy laugh, sliding an arm around Shadows shoulders and directing him back towards the hangar, "It's not too bad. A couple of hours, I think, at most. It's a floating island, so it moves around a bit. Sometimes the trip is longer the others, but Tails has a tracker thingy that he made with Knuckles, so he can always find it pretty easily."

With that, the trio embarked upon the Tornado towards Angel Island. For the most part Shadow clung to the seat belts strapped over his shoulders and kept his eyes shut, but sometimes Sonic would glance back and find him staring off in awe at mountains or a lake, eyes practically sparkling as he took in the sights. It made Sonic's heart do funny little summersaults in his chest, and he was really beginning to worry about what that meant.

Landing on Angel Island was always a little bit precarious, as even though Knuckles knew full well what the Tornado looked like by now, Sonic and Tails could never really be sure whether the echidna would lob a boulder at them or not. His mood and level of friendliness were always a bit tenuous at best, especially when he was actively guarding the master emerald. Today, however, seemed to be a good day, as Tails brought the plane down onto the surface of the island without any issue. Once parked, Sonic hoped down from the wing, grinning as he was greeted by a small gaggle of chaos clamoring for his attention.

"Hey, hey! There's plenty of me to go around," Sonic laughed, doing a quick little round of head pats while Shadow and Tails disembarked from the plane.

"And what are these creatures?" Shadow asked as he approached Sonic and the chaos, a light frown on his face as all but one of them scampered back to the brush at the sound of his voice.

"Aww, don't take them running off too personally. They're only used to a small handful of folks who visit the island, so they're a bit shy," Sonic reassured at seeing the look on Shadows face, offering him the one chao he had been holding, and therefor hadn't run away, "They're chaos! Only a few still live on the island, with our friend Knuckles. He takes care of the master emerald, and knows the most about chaos energy, since his clan has looked after this place for, like, forever. If we're lucky, he might know why you felt drawn to me and maybe the chaos energy around here will help you heal, and maybe with getting your memories back."

Shadow gave a small nod of understanding, eyeing the chao in Sonic's hands. It was cute, by all rights, its tiny pink wings flapping idly as it eyed the hybrid in curiosity. Tentatively, Shadow offered his own hand to the little creature, somewhat startled as it hopped onto his palm and let out a contented sounding little chirrup.

"Aww, it likes you," Tails giggled from Shadows right, having just finished up with securing the Tornado.

"It's kinda rare for them to warm up to someone new so fast," Sonic commented idly, though he couldn't help the smile on his face as he watched Shadow carefully bring the little chao to his chest and cradle it as if it were fragile. In return, the chao snuggled into the hybrids chest fur, causing Shadow to let out the most adorable sound of surprise Sonic was certain he'd ever heard. As a matter of fact, the blue hedgehog hadn't even realized he was openly staring and zoning out until Shadow cleared his throat and Tails let out a knowing little snort next to him.

"Shouldn't we go find your friend?" Shadow asked, arching an eyebrow at Sonic.

"Oh! Yeah, right," Sonic cleared his throat and promptly turned on his heel to march into the forest, hoping that Shadow didn't notice the way his muzzle had flushed at being caught. "I'm actually surprised Knux hasn't come busting through the woods to find us already. Usually he's pretty on top of visitors."

The trio trapsed through the woods, the little gaggle of chaos following them like little ducklings, while the one in Shadows hands fell asleep against his chest. When they finally broke through the tree line near the shrine of the master emerald they were surprised to find someone standing with Knuckles on the main platform. Namely, one Rouge the bat, currently arguing with the guardian over something the trio couldn't hear from where they stood.

"Oh man," Sonic said with a grin, turning to carefully take the snoozing chao from Shadow's grip, much to the hybrid's confusion. "Just trust me," he said as his only explanation, before turning towards the platform again. "Hey, Rouge!" he shouted, letting the awake and now disgruntled chao jump from his hands as he shouted, "Come see who I found!"

In unison the two on the platform turned, Knuckles obviously scowling, while Rouge's hands went to her face in surprise, before she, quite literally, came flying off the platform. "Shadow! You're alive!" Shadow grunted as the bat collided with his chest, wrapping his arms around her instinctually and sliding one of his feet back to keep them balanced. He shot Sonic a somewhat alarmed look, before he was pushed back by the shoulders and held at arms length by Rouge, his ears pinning back as she scrutinized him, picking at his quills and brushing dirt from his fur. "I can't believe it! And you didn't come find me first? What made you go to see Blue instead? That's so rude," she ranted at him, finally letting him go and stepping back once she was satisfied.

"Well, we were hoping that, perhaps, Knuckles could answer that last question," Shadow offered with a bit of a shrug, casting another pleading glance at Sonic, who simply grinned at him.

"That repugnant red ruffian? Why would he know why you went off to Sonic instead of finding me?" Rouge asked, tilting her head with her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at Shadow slightly, "I assume it has something to do with the emeralds?"

"We don't really know yet," Tails piped up, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as Rouge turned her attention to him, "It's my going theory, at any rate. Shadow lost his memory, and since there's a few month gap between him falling to Mobius and reappearing in our yard, there's a lot of questions that we're hoping to start answering."

"Lost his memory…?" Rouge turned back to Shadow who took a tentative step back when her attention came back to him, "So, you don't remember who I am?"

"My apologies," Shadow said, shaking his head slightly, "but, no."

"Oh," Rouge's ears drooped slightly for a moment, before she let out a breath and shrugged, "Well, I suppose it can't be helped." She paused, grinning a little as she quirked a brow at Sonic, "Wait…does that mean he's all soft and squishy now?" she gasped, "Is that why he let me hug him?!"

"Ha, yeah," Sonic snorted, only offering a smirk at Shadow's questioning glance.

"Oh, sugar," Rouge cooed at Shadow, squeezing his cheeks slightly, much to his obvious chagrin, "You're gonna be so pissed off at everyone when you get your memories back."

"And what makes you say that?" the hybrid asked, though his words were slightly garbled by the way his face was being held.

"Oh, just trust me on that one," Rouge giggled, finally letting go of Shadow's face and turning around with a huff when Knuckles cleared his throat loudly from the stairs leading up to the emerald's platform.

"What, pray tell, are you all doing on my island? And how did the black hedgehog survive plummeting back to the surface of the planet?"

"Real tactful, Knux," Sonic snorted, swagger in his step as he approached the echidna, the rest following shortly thereafter, "We came to talk to you about Shadow. He showed up in my yard unannounced. Wanted to see if you had any insight as to why."

Knuckles scrunched his nose up as Sonic approached, his gaze moving to the hybrid in question, eyes narrowing. "And why would I know anything about that? Did I not just question as to how he survived?"

"That's not really the question Sonic meant to ask," Tails interjected, jogging up the stairs to stand between his brother and the hot headed echidna, "Shadow lost his memory, and said he felt drawn to our house. I have a theory that it was because of their chaos energy, and their time spent in their super forms right before Shadow fell. We wanted to see if you could maybe confirm if that was the case, and if there was anything else you may think could be going on? Like, maybe if the master emerald was acting odd, or perhaps there's some underlying threat that made Chaos push Shadow to Sonic so they could work together to defeat it…"

Knuckles snorted, rolling his shoulders, arms folded across his chest. "There has been no noticeable disturbance in the flow of chaos to or around the master emerald. And your theory sounds feasible, and so the most likely explanation."

"Insightful as always," Sonic sighed, shaking his head as Knuckles shot him an incredulous look.

"Did I not just answer the questions the fox posed to me?! What more do you want?"

"Well, to be honest, I think we were hoping for a little more information or speculation," Tails muttered to the side, jumping slightly and ducking behind Shadow at the glare Knuckles shot him. "It's just, y'know, you're the one who knows the most about chaos energy and how it works!"

Knuckles sighed, letting his arms drop to his sides. "Unfortunately, there is nothing more I can offer. As I said, there have been no disruptions to the master emeralds energy. And it is, indeed, most likely that their time spent in super form has caused some form of bond to be created between Sonic and the black hedgehog. Their energies are likely linked because of their shared use of the emeralds, and so may feel compelled to seek each other out. As much as I know about the emeralds, there are still many more mysteries about them that I cannot answer."

"So, we came all this way for nothing?" Shadow asked, tone contrite as his shoulders slumped.

With another heavy sigh, Knuckles gestured for the hybrid to approach. "Not nothing. Perhaps communing with the emerald will aid you in the return of your memories."

"Oh sure, I ask to touch it and it's a big hullabaloo, but you just offer it to him without a second thought," Rouge quietly grumped as she followed Shadow up the rest of the stairs, put upon pout on her face.

"That is because if I let you near it you will try to steal it, despite its size in relation to you," the echidna snarked over his shoulder as he lead the way up to the emerald.

"Rude," Rouge grumbled, Sonic snickering next to her.

"Can't say he doesn't have you pegged, Rouge."

"Shut it, Blue."

"I do not know why I put up with the lot of you sometimes," Knuckles sighed, pausing just before the emerald. He turned to Shadow, gesturing for him to sit, "Sit here and close your eyes. Try to relax and focus your energy on the emerald. If chaos so sees it fit to do so, it will help you with your memories. The servers are the seven Chaos. Chaos is power… Power enriched by the heart. The controller is the one that unifies the Chaos." With that Knuckles turned from the emerald and shooed Rouge, Sonic and Tails away with a frown. "Leave him be. You three are distracting."

"Aww, you find me distracting, Red?" Rouge bat her lashes at the echidna, causing him to roll his eyes with a sigh.

"Banished, all of you."

Sonic snorted at their bickering, sauntering off to lean against a wall far enough away from Shadow that he wouldn't be immediately distracting, while remaining within his line of sight. Tails had disappeared almost immediately, so Sonic could only assume that he'd wandered off to poke around the temple a bit while Knuckles was preoccupied with Rouge, curious kid that he was. He watched as Rouge and Knuckles began to walk off as well, still exchanging barbs all the while, before he gaze was caught by slight movement in Shadow's direction. Turning his head he arched a brow as the hybrid quickly whipped his face back towards the emerald, his shoulders hunching slightly. Glancing back the way his friends had disappeared to ensure the two were gone to avoid getting scolded, he meandered over to Shadow, settling himself down next to the ebony hedgehog.

"What's up, Shads?"

"The sky?" the hybrid offered, eyes closed and chin tilted up towards the emerald.

"Haha, you're so funny," Sonic scoffed quietly, "I saw you looking at me instead of 'communing'. Something bugging you?"

Shadow let out a breath, opening his eyes to stare somewhat forlornly at the emerald. "I noticed that when we arrived here and met your friends your demeanor…changed. You were more dismissive and confrontational. I couldn't help but be curious as to why."

"Did it?" Sonic blinked, turning to look up at the emerald as well, rubbing absently at his quills. "Habit, probably? The way I am at home and with Tails, that's…I'm the hero of Mobius, y'know? My friends expect me to act a certain way, and so do the people of Mobius. When I leave the house, I guess I just sort of slip into that persona without realizing."

"So, you don't feel like you can be yourself around your friends?"

"I didn't say that."

"You just did. Quite literally."

Sonic let out a puff of frustrated air, glaring at the emerald. "The way I am in public and the way I am at home are both me. They're just different sides of who I am. Being more defensive when I'm out is a bit of a necessity. Robotnik could attack anywhere at anytime, so I guess I just sort of adapted to that over the years."

"Robotnik…is that the 'Eggman' you and Amy were talking about last week?"

"Yeah."

"…Is he the one we saved the world from?"

"That's…complicated."

"More complicated than trying to get a rock to speak to me?"

"Believe it or not, Shads? Yeah."

"I see," Shadow sighed, lifting a hand to rub at his forehead. "I feel like all of this would make more sense if I could just remember."

"Hey, like I keep saying, Shads, there's no rush," Sonic hummed, leaning in to brush his shoulder against Shadows. "Sorry if my attitude was off putting to you. It'll probably happen again."

At that Shadow snorted a quiet laugh, nudging Sonic's shoulder back with his own. "Good to know you'll at least be consistent."

"Eh, that's debatable," Sonic said flippantly, an easy grin spreading across his face at the way Shadow laughed at his comment, admiring the way his tan muzzle darkened with an amused flush in his cheeks. He idly wondered how infrequently he'd get to see that sight once Shadow got his memories back.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"Huh? Oh!" Sonic cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the emerald, hoping his own blush wasn't too obvious, "Sorry. Zoned out."

"Mhmm," Shadow hummed, warm little smile on his face at catching the way Sonic's face lit up. "Do you think we should thank Knuckles and go? I don't think his rock is going to speak to me."

"Hey, now," Sonic said, pushing off the ground to shove himself back up onto his feet, "You've been chatting with me and not giving communing with 'the rock' a fair shake. At least try properly for a few minutes before we go annoying the shit out of Knux again. I'll even go back to sitting in the corner." He turned to go back to the spot he'd picked previously, before pausing and glancing back at Shadow, "Try focusing on it like you did with your own energy earlier, only, y'know…in front of you instead of inside. It's the same thing, basically."

"I will do my best."

"You always do, Shads."

With that Sonic wandered back to his spot against the wall, while Shadow turned his attention to the emerald, closing his eyes and truly trying to focus instead of being distracted by the blue hedgehog at his back. Unfortunately, however, other thoughts began to worm their way into the forefront of his mind instead. Namely the way Rouge had told him he'd be angry at everyone once he had his memories back, combined with an idle comment Sonic had made when he'd first arrived about how him being calm in their living room was 'different'. He felt compelled to speculate about the kind of person he was before he'd hit his head. Obviously he had friends, with how eager Sonic was to help him and Rouge's enthusiastic greeting of him, but Amy had been suspicious, and Knuckles indifferent. He was fairly certain that Tails based his reaction off of how Sonic acted around him, since the fox quite obviously idolized his brother. True as it was that it was a rather small sample size, he couldn't help but feel unease.

Minutes passed with Shadow too preoccupied with his troubled thoughts to even try to connect with the emerald. Finally, he had to admit defeat and let out a frustrated breath, opening his eyes to give the softly glowing gem stone a soft glare. "This isn't going anywhere," he grumbled, turning to find Sonic tossing a stone idly up into the air and catching it repeatedly.

"Really? Still no luck?"

"No. I'm afraid my thoughts are otherwise occupied so I'm finding it difficult to focus."

"I'm not still being distracting, am I? I swear, I'm being as quiet as I can!"

Shadow chuckled, shaking his head as he rose to his feet. "No. My mind just keeps wandering and I think I'm overthinking it. Focusing inwards was much easier."

"Fair enough. Can't say we didn't try," Sonic said with a shrug, tossing his stone away and getting to his own feet. "Let's go find Tails and say goodbye to Knuckles and Rouge."

"I'm sorry we came all this way for, ultimately, nothing," Shadow sighed as they began to walk through the temple.

"I wouldn't say nothing," Sonic wrapped a reassuring arm around Shadow's shoulders, giving the hybrid a friendly little shake, "We got out of the house and saw some friends. Even if we didn't get any real answers, that's something. Plus! Now you know how to work your shoes again."

"I appreciate your positivity."

"Regular ol' ray of sunshine, me."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Sonic couldn't hold back a peel of laughter at Shadow's snark, grinning the rest of the way to where Knuckles and Rouge were audibly arguing again. He couldn't help but be a little bit astonished at how easily Shadow could read him and caught his demeanor change when he'd only, technically, known Sonic for a bit over a week. Some of the friends he'd known for years couldn't even get that good of a read on him. It made his heart do that odd little staccato in his chest again. He shook his head and let his arm drop from the dark hedgehog's shoulders as they entered the room where Knuckles and Rouge were arguing, quickly whistling to catch their attention.

"Hey! We're gonna head out," he said, smirking at the annoyed look the two gave him for interrupting their fight, "I'm worried Shadow is going to go bug eye if he stares at the master emerald for much longer."

"It's barely been ten minutes," Knuckles pointed out, folding his arms over his chest, "That is hardly enough time to connect properly to Chaos."

"Yeah, well, we're the fastest creatures alive, right? So, we should be able to connect to Chaos that much faster, and it's just not happening," Sonic said with an easy shrug.

"You sure you want to stick with Blue, sugar?" Rouge asked, letting out a short laugh as Shadow pointed at himself and mouthed 'me?' at her in surprise. "Yes, you. You're more than welcome to come back with me to Club Rouge. I figure the Hardy Boys over there will be getting on your nerves soon enough."

"Hardy Boys?"

Sonic rolled his eyes, hip chucking Shadow lightly, but enough that the hybrid took a step to the side to keep his balance. "They're characters in a book series. Two brothers who solve mysteries. But we," Sonic jabbed his thumb into his chest with a sneer to Rouge, "are way cooler than the Hardy Boys because we fight robots and save people."

"Mhmm. And solve mysteries," Rouge pointed out, cocking her hip with a smirk. "Anyway…It's an open invitation, hun. You ever get tired of living in a pigsty with those two and you can come crash at mine, okay?"

"Sonic's house is quite clean," Shadow offered, his ears twitching at the way Rouge scoffed quietly in disbelief and Sonic shouted a triumphant 'HA' at her. "But, thank you for the offer. I'll keep it in mind."

"Make sure you do," Rouge nodded, before giving them a little salute, "Anyway, I'm off, too. This one won't stop giving me a hard time, so I might as well book it."

"Good riddance," Knuckles grunted, looking affronted as Rouge stuck her tongue out at him, only to return the gesture with aplomb.

With that Rouge rolled her eyes and flapped her wings, lifting up off the floor. She gave them all a little wave, taking off down the hallway that Sonic and Shadow had walked to get there, brushing her fingers through Shadow's quills with a laugh as she passed him by.

"Well then, if there is nothing else I can help you with," Knuckles stated, gesturing down the hallway, "Get off my island."

"Always the most gracious host," Sonic hummed, letting out a whoop of laughter as Knuckles ran at him, quickly racing down the hallway, the echidna hot on his heels. Shadow simply shook his head and followed at a more sedate pace.

The following days were spent peacefully back in Sonic's house, though he did drag Shadow out of the house more than once to go for a run, the two figuring out together exactly how he could skate with his shoes to go at top speeds. Most, if not all, of their casual runs became races, ending in the two getting into a friendly argument about who the 'winner' was, which thrilled Sonic to no end when Shadow got that familiar little scowl on his face and puffed up his chest in self-confidence.

Their blissful little bubble could only last so long before it inevitably popped, however.

"Looks like I need to make another grocery run," Sonic sighed, already slipping his shoes on in the hallway.

"I'll come with you," Shadow said, rising from his seat on the couch, where he'd been re-reading the book of legends he'd picked up weeks prior.

"You don't have to, Shads. It'll probably be pretty boring," the blue hedgehog said, hand already on the door knob.

"It will give me an opportunity to get to know more of the town," Shadow insisted, sliding his own shoes on, "And Tails told me to make sure you remembered to get him his mints next time you went into town. This way I can be sure they won't be forgotten."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Sonic scoffed, but opened the door and gestured for Shadow to step through it. He bit his lip once Shadow had passed him, wishing he had come up with a better reason than 'it's boring' to keep Shadow at home. It hadn't occurred to him the first time he'd gone shopping, but he was pretty happy Shadow had stayed home once he'd given it some thought. The people in town knew who the hybrid was. Most people around the country did. A small handful of brave news reporters had made sure that as much of the fight between Sonic and Shadow as they deemed safe was broadcast across the country. He could only hope that the months between then and now had dulled most people's memory and no one would say anything to or about the dark hedgehog at his side, and that the handful of interviews he'd done after stopping the ARK, regaling Shadow as a hero, would help change the narrative a bit.

Luck was apparently not on his side.

The first bit of their shopping trip had been uneventful, with a short race to the shops, and a quiet meandering walk through the aisles. Shadow added odds and ends to the basket Sonic was carrying, while they enjoyed idle chit chat about meal plans for the week. But then one loud mouthed child spoiled it all by blatantly pointing at Shadow while tugging on their mother's dress and loudly stating, "Look, Mommy! It's the bad man from TV!"

Sonic froze, while Shadow simply looked confused, looking around behind him to see who the child was pointing at. When he found no one else in the aisle but them, he turned his gaze back towards the child who jumped and ducked behind his mothers legs. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the child's irate looking mother.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she seethed at Shadow, who took a quick step back, shock blatant on his face at being snapped at without provocation. She shot a dirty look at Sonic, who simply scowled right back at her. "I don't care what the news repots said. Bringing him out here, during the day, while there are children around?! Reckless endangerment!" With that she scooped up her child and stormed out of the aisle, leaving a bewildered Shadow and a livid Sonic behind.

"Sonic? Did…What just happened?" Shadow frowned, turning to Sonic in confusion.

"She was just being…intolerant," Sonic grumbled, shifting the basket on his arm, "C'mon. We've only got a few more things to grab and then we can go home."

Gathering the rest of the groceries was easy enough, as they only needed items in two more blissfully empty aisles. However, the cash register was a whole other ball game. There were only a few people in line as they approached, but once one person caught sight of them and made a rather undignified sound of fright, that caught the others attention and they all scattered, leaving a rather nervous looking cashier alone at the front of the store.

"This is becoming increasingly concerning, Sonic," Shadow murmured, glancing around at where all of the people had run off to while unloading their basket onto the counter.

"Ignore them," Sonic groused, shooting the cashier a withering look as they half ducked behind their register. Did the people really not trust him to know when there was an actual threat around? Not only was he insulted on Shadow's behalf at this point, but a little on his own, as well.

"If you say so," the hybrid muttered, stepping to the side while the cashier rang in their items with shaking hands.

Sonic paid quickly once the total came up on the screen, snatching up their bags in haste once the transaction was complete. The way everyone acted, as though Shadow was a ticking time bomb, grated on his last nerve. He turned to storm out of the store, only to find Shadow admiring a display stand of plants near the end of the register, completely oblivious to the customers peeking out from behind aisles and displays to wait until he was gone to finish their shopping. He felt his shoulders drop from their tense position at the soft smile on Shadows face as he gently touched the blooms of a tall lavender plant, watching with rapt attention as the hybrid closed his eyes and leaned in to take a deep whiff of the calming aroma the plant let off.

"Did you want one?"

"What?" Shadows eyes snapped open and he turned to Sonic, quickly retracting his hand from the plant as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"A lavender plant? They're meant to be soothing. Did you want one?" Sonic nodded at the purple flowers.

"Oh," Shadow glanced towards the flowers briefly before shaking his head, gesturing for Sonic to go ahead of him out of the store, "No, I don't think so. I seem to be making everyone in the store nervous, and you've already finished purchasing everything, so I think it would be best if we left."

"I can grab it, it's no big deal," Sonic insisted, only to grunt as Shadow slipped a hand behind Sonic and began to gently push him out of the store.

"I appreciate the offer, but I would rather avoid any further…unsavory interactions," Shadow stated, only removing his hand from Sonic once they were outside. "I also now have some questions for you, Sonic. And I think they would be best to answer at home." He gently took the grocery bags from the blue hedgehog, shooting him a meaningful look, before taking off the way they'd come in a blur of black and red.

"…shit."

It had never taken Sonic as long to get home as it did when he finally got his feet to move. Dread filled his stomach at the thought of what questions Shadow could have come up with after their rather harrowing trip to the grocery store. He swallowed thickly as he jogged up to his front yard, slowing to a walk as he came to the edge of the property for what was probably the first time since he'd owned the house. Upon stepping through the door he found Shadows shoes neatly tucked next to the door mat in their usual spot, which was at least a good sign. At the very least, it meant Shadow didn't have an immediate plan to take off from the house as soon as he got answers out of Sonic.

"Uhm…Where're you hiding, Shads?" he called into the house, slipping off his shoes and tucking them next to Shadows.

"I wouldn't call sitting at the kitchen table 'hiding'," came the curt reply from down the hallway.

Sonic visibly flinched at the hybrid's tone, taking a quick, deep breath to steady himself before walking into the kitchen with a forced smile on his face. "There you are!" he tried, only to be met with a flat stare. "Right," he sighed, ears flattening against his head as he shuffled across the room and settled himself in the chair across from Shadow, "So…what questions did you have for me?"

"I appreciate you not trying to beat around the bush," Shadow said with a slight nod, lightly drumming his fingers against the glass of water he had sat in front of himself. He let out a long sigh, letting his eyes slide shut, obviously centering himself before speaking. "Tell me…did you lie to me?"

"About what?"

"About who I am."

Sonic screwed his nose up, brow furrowed at the question. "You're gonna need to be a bit more specific, Shads."

The hybrid growled quietly under his breath, opening his eyes enough to glare down at the glass of water between his hands as though it had personally offended him. It was a rather familiar expression to Sonic, and he hated that he'd put it there. "About me being a hero, saving Mobius, being-," he grunted, the leather of his gloves creaking as he squeezed the glass, "being your friend."

"What? Shadow-"

"Do not lie to me again, Sonic," Shadow growled lowly, his piercing gaze cutting to Sonic, "Those people were terrified of me."

Sonic felt his shoulders drop at Shadow's glare, sinking slightly in his chair as he watched the hybrids quills stiffen and bristle. "I didn't. Not…not entirely."

The distinct sound of glass cracking reverberated through the kitchen as Shadow squeezed his glass. "Elaborate."

"You did save Mobius with me. You were a hero! You did grow up on the ARK, and you were created by a scientist named Gerald, to try and cure his sick granddaughter, Maria, who you were close with. All of that was true."

"But…?"

Emerald slid away from crimson as Sonic could not longer bear to keep eye contact with Shadow as he continued to speak. "But…when you were first awoken from being frozen someone manipulated your memories, making you think you were made to destroy, instead of heal and protect. And you…you attacked the city. You decimated a couple blocks before we managed to stop you, but it had all been televised. A lot of people saw you do it, so they're afraid. I tried to do damage control when I got back home, telling any news outlet that would listen that you helped me, but I guess people didn't really care since it wasn't something they could see happening in real time."

"…Is that all?"

Sonic cringed slightly, glancing up at Shadow, who was staring him down intently, the spiderweb of cracks in the glass he was holding making it obvious it was about two seconds from shattering. "A couple reporters managed to get hold of some sensitive information before GUN, the Guardian Unit of Nations, could shut it down. You were created with the help of some alien DNA that makes you able to channel chaos energy more efficiently than almost any other person or creature on Mobius. You can throw spears of chaos energy and teleport, which was shown on television."

"So….people think I'm a monster."

"But you're not!"

"How can you be so sure?!" The glass finally gave way with a resounding crunch, glass and water spilling across the table. Shadow quickly stood, gasping for air as if he'd just run a marathon. Sonic followed suit, rounding the table in a flash with his hands held out to catch Shadow should the hybrid try to run.

"I know you're not because I've seen how you look at this world. I've seen how happy you are just to read a good book or cook a delicious meal, or to just go for a run with me. You're good, Shadow. I promise you, you are not what those people think of you."

Shadow choked on his heaving breaths, angry tears brimming in his eyes as he grabbed at Sonic's outstretched hands, squeezing just this side of too hard. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I can!" Sonic snapped, twisting his hands in Shadow's grip to lace their fingers together, "The chao!"

The abrupt change of topic made Shadow startle, his grip loosening as a few of the tears in his eyes gently rolled down his cheeks. "What?"

"The chao, on Angel Island," Sonic elaborated, "They won't go near bad people. They're actively terrified of Eggman. One wouldn't have fallen asleep on you if you were a bad person. Trust me, Shadow. Please."

Shadow hiccupped, swallowing thickly as more tears began to trickle down his cheeks, his expression softening. "Did I hurt many people?" he practically whispered.

"I'd be lying if I said you didn't," Sonic offered, his heart practically shattering at the way Shadow dropped his head, ears pinned against his skull as a guttural sob ripped from his throat. Sonic felt tears threaten to gather in his own eyes, but he cleared his throat and gave Shadows fingers another reassuring squeeze. "We minimized casualties, and all civilians caught in the crossfire made full recoveries."

Slipping his fingers free from Sonic's grip, Shadow wrapped his arms around his torso, seeming to shrink in on himself. "How can you want to help me, knowing all of this?"

"I told you Shads," Sonic murmured, reaching out to gently place his hands on the hybrid's shoulders, expecting them to be shrugged off, but pleasantly surprised when they weren't. "You're a good person. I fully believe in second chances. And you earned your chance. Those people out there, they didn't see you in those moments when we pushed the ARK back into orbit," he said, a slow grin forming on his face as Shadow lifted his head to look at the hero as he spoke, "I never knew anyone else could use the chaos emeralds to go Super. So when I called on them to give me the strength to stop the ARK, and they leant their power to you as well, it was amazing. The look on your face was priceless," Sonic let out a quiet laugh at the sheer surprise on Shadows face, "Yeah, kinda like that. Your strength and determination in those moments were inspiring. And I'd be lying if I said your quills didn't look pretty cool in gold."

A quiet sniff left Shadow as he swiped at his nose with the back of his glove. "…Really?"

Sonic snorted, patting at Shadow's shoulders, reluctantly letting his hands slide away. "Yeah, man. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you the whole truth, before. I just…I wanted to see you happy. When we first met, you always looked so sad or angry. It was nice to see you with a smile on your face. I wanted that to last for you as long as it could."

"I…I appreciate that. And, truthfully, I'm not sure how I would've taken all that when I first arrived, so I guess it was for the best that you kept it to yourself for a while. It just…makes me wonder if I really want to get my memories back. Knowing how miserable I was."

"Amy's told me, before, that being sad or upset about something just means you had something to be truly happy about at one point. Dunno how much truth that really holds, but I think you've got memories you'd regret not getting back. You helped me save Mobius for a reason, and I think part of it was some of those memories."

Shadow sighed, rubbing at his eyes and nodding slightly. "I suppose you're right."

"I know I am," Sonic said with a grin, gently punching Shadow in the shoulder, his heart giving a happy little thump at the tiny smile Shadow offered him in return. "Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't I organize a little party? There are a bunch of people I've talked to about you who I'm pretty sure would be excited to finally get to meet you, and I think we deserve to have some fun after all this. How does that sound?"

"…that might be fun," Shadow finally agreed after a moment, offering Sonic a short nod.

"Awesome! Let's do it to it."

Of course, when Sonic said he'd organize a party, he'd really meant he'd ask Amy to do it for him.

"I brought you your favorite ice cream!"

"…What do you want, Sonic?" Amy sounded exasperated, but she still took the tub of ice cream from the blue hedgehog, quickly trotting into her house to put it in the freezer, knowing full well that Sonic would let himself in. She turned once the ice cream was safely stored, folding her arms over her chest and cocking a hip at the sheepish grin Sonic offered her from the kitchen doorway.

"I was hoping you could organize a little get together for me?" he asked, casually leaning against the door frame.

"A party?" Amy perked up a little, "What for?"

"Well…Shadow's been having a bit of a rough time this week, and I thought it might be nice for him to get to do a little mingling that wasn't me or Tails, y'know?"

"I should've guessed," Amy said with a roll of her eyes, but turned to pick a day planner up off her kitchen counter.

"What do you mean you should've guessed?" Sonic pushed himself from the door frame, posture subconsciously becoming defensive.

"Oh, it's nothing really," Amy said with a little wave of her hand, flipping open the planner, "It just seems like ever since Shadow showed up he's the only one you've been spending any time with."

"He lost his memory, Ames! Was I just supposed to give him a pat on the head and send him on his way?"

"Hey, hey!" Amy shot Sonic a look, causing the hero to deflate slightly, "No need to get all huffy with me. It would just be nice to see you without your thoughts being completely otherwise occupied. It feels like he's all you've talked about for months now." She let out a little breath, looking back down at her planner, "Anyway…when were you hoping to have this party of yours?"

"You'll really put it together for me?" Sonic perked up, his tail giving a little wag.

"For a price," Amy chirped with a little grin, pulling a pen from the coiled spine of her planner.

"I should've known," Sonic groaned, tipping his head back, his shoulders slumping as his tail went limp.

Amy simply giggled at him, turning back to her planner and jotting some notes down. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. I just want to go on a nice dinner date. No chili dogs or pizza, and no talk about Shadow. That sounds fair, doesn't it?"

"A dinner date? Really, Amy?"

"What? Can't a girl want to spend some quality time with her favorite hedgehog?" Amy gave him a wink, before going back to her notes, not catching Sonic's blatant cringe. "I can only assume you have no idea of when you want to have your party, but knowing you, you're going to want it as soon as possible…And given how quiet Robotnik has been lately, I think this weekend is probably a safe bet, and that should give everyone plenty of time to make arrangements to get here." She snapped her planner shut, arching a brow at Sonic with a self-assured smile. "If that sounds agreeable to you, all I need is your acceptance of my terms, and I'll get started."

With a short sigh, Sonic gave a curt nod, returning Amy's smile with a small one of his own. "Yeah, okay. One dinner date, no chili dogs or pizza, and no talk about Shadow in exchange for one party."

"Great! I'll organize it for Saturday at central park, since that'll give us plenty of space. Show up for noon, I'll make sure there's food," Amy hummed with a nod, "All you've got to do is show up."

"Thanks, Ames. You're the best," Sonic offered her a grin, chuckling at the way she seemed to puff up at his praise.

"I know I am," she chirped in reply, before pausing to tap her pen against her planner, "Though, real quick…What does Shadow like to eat? Does he have any favorites? If the party is for him, i should probably know what to cater it with."

"Oh, uh," Sonic blinked, chewing on his lip as he racked his brain for food he'd specifically seen Shadow eat or ask him to pick up from the store over the last few weeks. Truthfully, he was fairly certain the only food he'd seen the hybrid eat were the meals he prepared and shared with Sonic and Tails. Which, although he was sure any of those foods would work well for the party, he wouldn't consider any of them 'favorites' for Shadow. That was, until he recalled one specific morning when he'd woken up earlier than usual and walked into the kitchen without Shadow immediately noticing him. The hybrid had been dumping coffee beans into the grinder to make his and Tails usual morning pot of coffee, only to pause and stare at a few beans in the palm of his head. Sonic had initially thought that there was something wrong with those specific beans, only to be mildly shocked as Shadow tipped the beans into his mouth and chomped down on them with an audible crunch and a hum of satisfaction.

Sonic grinned at the memory, focusing back on Amy, who was giving him an odd look. "Coffee beans," he supplied simply, resting his hands on his hips.

"…Coffee beans?"

"Yup!

"Uh…Okay. Coffee beans, it is."

Thankfully, the rest of the week went by rather uneventfully and the weekend arrived before Sonic even realized what day it was. It was really only because he'd happened to glance at the calendar tacked up on the kitchen wall that he realized that it was Saturday. He choked on the chaos soda he'd been sipping at, whipping around on his heel to look at the clock, his heart ticking up in speed at the time. Amy would murder him if they were late to the party.

"Heyyyy, you're not making anything special for lunch, are ya, Shads?" Sonic asked quickly, turning to the hybrid, who had a bag of bread in hand and a confused look on his face.

"Just sandwiches?" he offered, lifting the bag a bit higher, "Why?

"I just thought, y'know what'd be nice? Going out! We haven't really gone anywhere since that trip to the grocery store, and it'd be nice to get out of the house and give you some better experiences," Sonic hummed, shoving his half empty can of soda into the fridge.

"We just went for a run yesterday?"

"Yeah, that's not the same," Sonic dismissed quickly, snagging the bag of bread from Shadow's hands and setting it on the counter, only offering the hybrid a smile as he was stared down in mild concern. "Why don't you go put your shoes on, and I'll go grab Tails!"

"Uh…sure," Shadow agreed slowly, shaking his head as Sonic zipped away to fetch Tails from the garage.

A short crash and a rather explicit curse on Tails part were quick to follow as Shadow slipped his shoes on, the hybrid genuinely worried as Sonic appeared in the front hallway with a rather irritated fox kit tucked under his arm, and a bruise quite obviously blooming on his hip. Sonic had his shoes on in a flash and darted out the door, waving at Shadow from the front lawn as the hybrid hesitated in the hallway.

"C'mon, Shads! Let's juice!"

Shadow let out a little breath, deciding it was probably best to simply go with whatever was happening and deal with any potential fallout later, rather than try and question Sonic when he was obviously a bit on the manic side. Once the door was locked and the keys were safely tucked into his quills, Shadow jogged across the lawn to meet up with Sonic, who was running in place with Tails rag dolling in his hold, the fox kit obviously having given up trying to get free of his brothers grip.

"Try to keep up!" Sonic chirped, taking off with Shadow hot on his heels a moment later, laugher trailing behind them.

Their arrival to the park was met with a cacophony of greetings from the large gaggle of Mobians that were gathered. Amy had really gone all out in sending out invites and making sure people would attend. Besides herself, Knuckles, and Rouge, she'd gotten Vanilla, Cream with her Chao Cheese, Team Chaotix, Big, Princess Sally, Bunnie, Mighty and Ray all together in the park for the party. A real who's who of Sonic's friends, and none of whom that would cast unfair judgement on Shadow. Sonic beamed, returning the greeting with one of his own as he released Tails, before turning to find a rather overwhelmed looking hybrid stood frozen next to him.

"Hey…Shads? You okay? I know this was sort of a surprise, but I did tell you i was going to throw a party," Sonic offered, only just now wondering if, perhaps, a large party hadn't been the best idea, all things considered.

"I-Yes," Shadow gave a quick nod, absently fixing his quills as his gaze darted over the dozen or so people meandering and socializing around the handful of picnic tables decorated for the party, "Yes, I'll be fine. There are just a lot of people."

"Lots of people who will love you," Sonic reassured, slipping behind Shadow to gently push him towards the party, "You're polite and charming. That's all you really need. Trust me."

"Polite and charming. Right," the hybrid absently echoed, waving awkwardly with a small, forced smile on his face as he was greeted by the party goers.

Sonic managed to introduce a small handful of the crowd to Shadow, and got to engage in about ten minutes of conversation before he found a peach arm winding around his own with Amy sidling up next to him, a happy little grin on her face. He sighed, but made no move to dislodge her as she easily injected herself into the conversation Sonic had been having with Shadow, Vanilla and Vector. When a natural lull in the conversation occurred, Amy gave his arm a little tug, leaning around his shoulder to offer an apologetic smile to Shadow, who gave the pink hedgehog an odd look for the way she was half hanging off Sonic's arm.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just need a moment with Sonic," she offered, wiggling her fingers in a reserved little wave, which Shadow returned hesitantly, obviously confused as to why the motion caused Sonic to let out a snort of laughter.

"Did I do something weird?" the dark hedgehog asked, turning to Vanilla and Vector who were now also chuckling.

"Nah, man," Sonic shook his head, allowing Amy to drag him away, "You're all good. Be back in a flash." He sighed as Amy pulled him away, casting one last glance back to find Shadow fully engaged back in conversation with the others, more than happy to see how well the hybrid was doing. He only wished he could be over there as well, instead of being interrogated by Amy. "Alright, Ames," he slipped his arm free of her grasp once they'd stopped walking, "What's up?"

"I wanted to know your opinion on the party," she chirped, smile not diming despite the fact that Sonic was free of her grip.

"It's great. You did a really amazing job throwing it all together, especially since you did it in such a short period of time. I'm kinda surprised so many people showed up," Sonic offered, gesturing towards the picnic tables laden with snacks and the yard games set up off to the side where Charmy and Tails were cheating at ladder toss against Espio and Bunnie. He snickered as he watched Bunnie throw her toss too hard, the bola she was using wrapping itself around the branches of a tree.

"It wasn't too hard," Amy demurred, lacing her fingers in front of herself, "Once I told everyone the party was for you, it wasn't too hard to get them to agree."

"What?" Sonic looked back to Amy, light frown on his face, "But the party is for Shadow."

"Yeah, but most of them don't know Shadow, outside of what the news showed. You and I both know everyone here is willing to give just about anyone the benefit of the doubt, but trying to convince them to come to a party for a guy who tried to destroy the world would be like trying to convince the freedom fighters to celebrate Eggman's birthday," Amy sighed, her smile finally falling as she placed her hands on her hips, "And don't try to argue with me, you know I'm right."

"That's still a bit harsh, Ames," Sonic grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not like I'm disagreeing with you. I just did what I needed to, to make sure people showed up," Amy stated, pointing towards the party, "Anyway, look. I even made sure to have coffee beans on the menu."

The jubilant sound of a child screeching in disgust could be heard from the direction Amy pointed, to which Sonic turned his head just in time to watch Shadow grin and toss coffee beans into his mouth with Cream watching on with horrified fascination. He crunched the beans between his teeth and offered a handful to her, to which she loudly protested with a laugh, though Cheese did seem a little intrigued by the unconventional snack. Sonic chuckled at their antics, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

"…Oh."

Sonic frowned at the quiet word from Amy, quickly turning his attention back to her. "What? Is something wrong?"

"No…well, yes, but," she murmured, suddenly looking like a kicked puppy, "it's nothing you can help, I don't think."

"What're you talking about?" Sonic reached for Amy, only to be even more confused as she pulled away from him.

"Well, first, you could've told me you had started dating Shadow before agreeing to go on a date with me," she said a bit bitingly, clutching at the hem of her dress.

"Amy, seriously, what are you talking about?" Sonic borderline growled, trying to keep his voice low in case anyone from the party got close enough to eavesdrop. "I am not dating Shadow."

"No? Oh, please, Sonic," she scoffed, shooting him a half hearted glare, "With the way you were just looking at him, how could I not tell?" She paused at the irritated stare Sonic was giving her, a quiet gasp leaving her as her demeanor changed from upset to sympathetic. "Unless…? Oh, Sonic," she breathed, shaking her head, "Have you seriously not realized?"

"This is getting to be too much," Sonic groused, about to turn, but Amy's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Sonic…If I said I would give absolutely anything to have you look at me the way you were just looking at him, it would still be an understatement," Amy sighed, sliding her hands down to wrap them around Sonics, "You were looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. You looked so smitten. And all he was doing was playing with Cream and eating coffee beans!"

Sonic scoffed, wrenching his hand free of Amy's grip while taking a quick step back. "That's ridiculous! I'm just helping a friend!"

"A friend who you let move in with you and plan parties for because you want to make him happy after having a, and I quote 'rough week'. I don't remember the last time you threw a party for anyone that wasn't for their birthday."

"I didn't even plan this party, I got you to do it!"

"You still had the idea for it!"

"Only because I wanted Shadow to realize he's the good person I know he is! We ran into people in the grocery store who were petrified of him, and he had a break down in my kitchen! I wasn't going to let him go on thinking he was some sort of monster just because some people got the wrong impression of him," Sonic seethed, only to pause and glance around to make sure no one was paying the squabbling duo any mind. He quickly grabbed Amy and ducked behind a tree, ignoring her protest. "Look. I just want him to have a good time while he's missing his memories and not bogged down by all that crap that happened on the ARK. That doesn't mean I have feelings for him."

Slowly, Amy extracted her arm from Sonic's grasp, taking a swift step back once she was free. She took a deep breath, an uncharacteristic scowl on her face as she stared Sonic down. "Do you two get along?"

"Huh?" Sonic's irritation immediately dissipated at the sudden question.

"Do you two get along?"

"Well, I mean, of course…"

"Do you enjoy spending time with him?"

Sonic scoffed, cocking his hip. "What're you trying to get at, Ames?"

"Answer my question."

"Of course I do. He's one of the only people who can give me a run for my money in a race."

"Okay. Do you try to think of reasons to spend time with him?"

Sonic opened his mouth to make another asinine comment, before snapping his mouth shut to give that particular question some thought. Normally, when it had been a while between Eggman attacks, Sonic would run around, visiting friends or places he'd yet to see to keep himself occupied and entertained. But with Shadow staying in the house, he often found himself just as happy to stay home, sharing the time and space with the dark hedgehog as he read his own book or bustled around the kitchen making a good meal. He bit his lip, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I…I guess I do."

"Are you happy when you're together?"

"Yeah…"

"Do you like to make him happy?"

Sonic squirmed slightly, rubbing absently at his quills. "I mean, yeah, I guess…"

Amy sighed, staring forlornly at Sonic for a moment, before shaking her head and brushing her quills out of her face. "You don't need to go on a date with me as payment anymore."

"What? A deal's a deal, Ames-"

"Exactly," Amy hummed, brushing invisible dust from her dress, "It was a deal. And I decided to break it." She stepped around Sonic and the tree they hid behind, pausing next to the hero. "If I were you," she said quietly, "I would think about those questions I asked you." With that Amy walked back to the party, leaving a rather bewildered Sonic behind.

He stepped out from behind the tree to watch as Amy gave Shadow a hug, which he returned with a confused but contented little smile on his face. It made something twist weirdly in his chest. He took another quick step back, deciding that, perhaps, it'd be best if he took a run to clear his head, rather than stay for the rest of the party. Shadow and Tails could get home on their own, it wasn't like they were that far from the house. And with that thought, Sonic took off, ignorant of the pair of worried crimson eyes that watched him go.

The next day Sonic made a point of skipping breakfast and avoiding Shadow all together as he got his thoughts together. And then the next day. And the next. On the fourth day Tails finally blasted Sonic on his communicator, telling him to at least leave a note if he was suddenly going to disappear for days on end so Shadow would stop making him meals and expecting him to show up. It made Sonic's heart sink at the thought of Shadow sitting at the dining room table with his plate set out, waiting, only to be ultimately disappointed thanks to Sonic's cowardice and indecision. He grunted and kicked at a random piece of trash near his foot. Perhaps Amy really was getting at something with her crazy theory about him having feelings.

He sighed when he heard his communicator ping at him once again, finding a note from Tails to pick up some mints from the store on his way home, and a single comment that Shadow would like to speak to him whenever he got home. Sonic groaned at the request, raking his fingers through his quills and pulling. Amy made it sound so simple, but he still hadn't figured anything out. Though, he supposed that avoiding the issue wasn't really doing anyone any good.

Sighing heavily, he let his hands drop from his quills, glaring up at the sky for a moment, before kicking out and taking off back towards home. Running around and trying to think wasn't working, so he might as well face the problem head on and come up with something on the fly. It was how he came up with all his best plans in battle, after all.

In his haste to get home, Sonic very nearly blew right past the store, but at the last moment he remembered Tails' request for more mint candies. Given that the kid was probably pissed at him for disappearing without a word he would be remiss to show up at home without them. So, he dug his heels in and made a quick turn, making sure to slow to a jog as he approached the doors, not wanting to blow anything off the shelves or stands.

It only took him a moment to locate his brothers favorite candies amongst the shelves, speeding to the register once he had them in hand to not further delay the inevitable. However, it was as he approached the counter that he spotted them. The lavender plants that had offered Shadow some modicum of comfort during their disastrous grocery trip. He let out a slow breath as his mind drifted to the image of the hybrid looking so contented while smelling the flowers. Unhurriedly, he approached the display, reaching out to gently touch the blooms in the same fashion that Shadow had, getting light whiffs of their scent as he looked them over. The idea of taking one of them home to get to see that same expression on the hybrids face every day made his heart flutter.

And with that thought, Sonic knew exactly how he felt and what he needed to do.

Making his way home in a quick fashion with a potted plant in hand was not as simple as he'd thought it would be. In the end, he'd wound up having to walk home to keep the poor thing intact, which irritated him to no end, since taking his time was not ideal.

But finally, finally, he made it home.

He made his way into the house, carefully setting the plant down, finding the place to be eerily quiet. He slipped his shoes off, then made his way to the kitchen, tossing Tails' candies onto the counter, only to find a note there from the fox kit saying he was going to Charmy's place. Sonic thought it was a bit odd to leave a note when he could just message Sonic on the communicators, until he realized that it wasn't for him. It was for Shadow, since the hybrid still didn't have a communicator yet. He knew his brother didn't mean it as such, but it felt like a bit of a dig at his own lack of proper communication. He sighed and turned to lean back against the counter, now feeling a bit foolish for rushing home the way he had when it seemed like no one else was even there. Shoving himself from the counter after a beat and shuffling through the house, Sonic decided he may as well watch a movie or play a video game while he waited for the others to get back.

He froze upon reaching the living room, momentarily having forgotten that it was Shadow's make-shift bedroom. With the silence of the house he hadn't been expecting to find the dark hedgehog on the couch, but apparently he simply slept like the dead. Shadow was splayed out along the length of the couch with a book resting open on his chest, and a blanket tangled with his legs. Sonic leaned against the couch, taking the opportunity to admire Shadow as he slept for a few moments, before he reached down and gently shook his ankle to wake him up.

A swinging right hook was fully not what Sonic expected as Shadow woke with a shout, thanking Chaos that his reflexes were so quick.

"Good morning to you, too!" Sonic called from the other side of the room, where he had plastered himself against the book shelf to keep from getting hit.

"Wh-huh?" Shadow blinked owlishly, glancing around the room, arm still raised in the air as he slowly took in his surroundings. Sonic wished he had a camera on hand to capture the expression on the hybrids face, along with the way his usually perfectly quaffed quills were sticking up in every which direction from how he'd been positioned on the couch. Shadow finally blinked in Sonic's direction, a light frown on his face, before recognition lit up his expression. "Sonic!"

"Hey there, sunshine."

Quickly, Shadow stood from the couch, running his fingers through his quills to flatten them down, a light flush dusting his muzzle as he did his best to quickly make himself presentable. "If I'd known when you were to be home I would've made sure to be awake," he remarked, scooping his fallen book from the floor where it had fallen to set it on the coffee table.

Sonic felt a pang of guilt at the simple comment, rubbing at the back of his head as he shuffled back towards the couch. "Yeah, I…I'm sorry about that," Sonic sighed, pausing as he reached the side of the couch, "I should've at least left a note or something before I ran off like that."

"It's quite alright. Tails informed me that, when Eggman hasn't attacked in a while, sometimes you get stir crazy. He said it's not unusual for you to disappear for longer stretches of time occasionally," Shadow reassured, slowly pulling the blanket he'd been using from the couch and folding it.

"I mean, yeah, sometimes…but this time Amy said something to me that just got into my head, and-"

"So, she did say something to you…?"

"What?" Sonic frowned slightly, watching as Shadow set the folded blanket on the back of the couch.

"Amy," Shadow supplied, idly spinning one of his inhibitor rings around his wrist to keep his hands busy. "She said something to you. I figured as much, since you ran off after she took you aside ." He visibly steeled himself, dropping his hands to his sides as he looked to Sonic. "If she still thinks I'm untrustworthy to be here I can find somewhere else to stay. Rouge insisted once again at the party that I could stay with her, and Vector has also offered a place with the Chaotix. If my presence has become a problem, I can vacate at your leisure."

"What?!" Sonic felt his heart jump into his throat, quickly darting around the couch and grabbing at Shadow's shoulders, "No! No, of course I don't want you to leave. What Amy said, yeah, it got into my head but not-…It wasn't anything bad. It just gave me some stuff to think about. I needed some time and space to figure it out."

"Oh," Shadow let out a breath, shoulders relaxing as a small smile graced his muzzle, "I'm glad. I had worried that I'd done something upsetting without realizing again."

"No. The exact opposite, really," Sonic said with a light chuckle, letting his hands slide down Shadow's arms to gently take his hands. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. Oh! But first-" he quickly jogged over to the front door where he'd set the lavender plant, lifting it with a flourish, "I brought you a present!"

"The plant from the grocery store?" Shadow blinked, carefully taking the plant as Sonic handed him the pot.

"Yeah. It's not much, but I remembered how much you seemed to like it when we were at the store. Sorta seemed like it gave you a little moment of peace when everything else was sort of hitting the fan, so I thought you might like to have a little bit of that here. At home," Sonic offered, watching in rapt attention as Shadow brought the little purple blooms to his nose to take a careful sniff of the flowers.

"That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

Sonic flushed at the warm smile he was given in exchange for the plant, unable to contain his nervous energy as he began to tap his foot on the floor. "I…It was nothin," he muttered, rubbing absently at his arm. He winced slightly as Shadow lowered the plant, his eyes traveling down to Sonic's restless foot before moving back up to his face.

"Is there something else? You seem…agitated."

"Uh, yeah," Sonic cleared his throat, forcing his foot to stop tapping, though he then began to pick at a loose thread on one of his gloves, "Sorry, this is just…a lot. For me. And new."

"It's alright. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

Sonic let out a little puff of breath, a slow smile spreading across his face. "No. You're not, are you?" He cleared his throat again at the odd look Shadow gave him, forcing his hands down to his sides for a beat, before bringing them back up to cup around Shadows where he held the plant. "Shadow…I know we haven't really known each other that long, and maybe it was the chaos emeralds that brought us together at first, but…But I've never felt like this around anyone before. You treat Tails like family, you're an amazing cook, and you take care of us without ever needing to be asked. You keep up with me in every way that matters, and you make me happy in a way that is so unique to you, I don't even know how to describe it. I can't imagine waking up in the morning anymore and not finding you working on breakfast and sneaking coffee beans when you think no one's looking. Which, by the way, there's no point to, we all know you eat them," he paused as they both chuckled, "What I'm trying to say is…In my life, the way I live, and the things I do, opportunities fly by in a blink. So if you don't take them when they show up, they can vanish before you even realize what you've missed. And I don't want to do that with you. I want to take every opportunity I can get, and cherish them…Because I-I love you."

"Sonic…"

Ducking his head, Sonic let out a nervous little laugh. "You don't have to say it back. I know this is probably out of left field for you. But, you've been on my mind for months. It just took Amy pointing out how obvious I was being for me to finally get my head out of my ass and give it two seconds of thought to realize what I was feeling." Silence reigned for a few moments until Sonic finally lifted his gaze back up to find Shadow's eyes rimmed with tears, the hybrid breathing heavily as he was obviously trying to keep his emotions in check. "Uh…You okay?"

"Yes…No," Shadow hiccupped, tipping his head back and blowing out a breath. He took another minute or so to compose himself, before sniffing in a breath and bringing his head back down to offer the blue hedgehog a lopsided smile. "That was very sweet. I hope you don't mind if I take some time to think about it?"

"Of course not," Sonic quickly reassured, giving Shadow's hands a gentle squeeze around the pot before letting go, "Take all the time you need. Took me months, after all."

Shadow let out a bark of laughter, carefully setting the plant down on the coffee table. "Hopefully it won't take me quite as long to have an answer for you," he offered, wiping at his face hastily once his hands were free. "What I can tell you now, however, is that I'm happy to have found my way here. I'm happy that I've gotten to spend the time I have with you, Tails, and your friends. Even if I never manage to regain my memories, I think I would be okay with that if it meant I got to spend the rest of my days here. With you."

Sonic couldn't help the gleeful grin that spread across his muzzle at Shadow's words, his hands reaching out to cup the hybrid's face as he bounced on his toes. "It'd be more than okay if you stayed here, for as long as you'd like," he hummed, inching ever closer to Shadow, the hybrid letting out a low chuckle at Sonic's excited energy. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay?"

"Please do."

That was all the permission Sonic needed to duck into Shadow's space, pressing their lips together with a pleased little hum. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss as Shadow's arms wound around his torso, only to jerk back in surprise as the front door opened suddenly, accompanied by Tails loudly shouting that he was home. The three stood staring awkwardly at each other as Tails fully stepped inside and shut the door behind himself.

"Uh…So, what were you guys up to?" Tails asked, toeing off his shoes.

"Kissing," Sonic said with a cheeky grin, Shadow making a pathetic wheezing sound as he buried his face in a blue shoulder.

"I see," Tails said plainly, padding down the hallway, "Well, you two have fun with that. Glad you made up. Oh, but please make sure to keep it down. I'd really appreciate not having to find out what sounds my brother makes when 'being intimate'."

"Tails!" Shadow and Sonic snapped at the same time, both flushing as Tails disappeared into the garage with a cackling laugh.

"That was mortifying," Shadow grumbled, pulling away from Sonic enough to rub his hands over his face with a low groan.

"Eh, could've been worse."

"How so?"

"We could've actually been 'getting intimate'."

"Sonic!"

"What? I'm not wrong," the blue hedgehog laughed and landed on the couch with a grunt as Shadow shoved him away. He grinned up at the hybrid, enjoying the way Shadow's face scrunched up in embarrassment, lips twisted in a scowl and cheeks aflame. "Hey," he hummed, reaching out to tangle their hands together, giving a little tug so Shadow shuffled forward to stand between his knees, "I love you."

"I…How do I respond?" Shadow asked, leaning over Sonic, his embarrassment easily morphing into nervousness.

"You could kiss me again?" Sonic offered, cheeky little smirk curling his lips.

"If you insist," Shadow breathed, a smile finally returning to his face as he ducked his head down to press their lips together once more.

The following weeks were like a dream to Sonic.

After a bit of cajoling from Tails, Shadow moved his few meager belongings up to Sonic's room, where he began to spend the night curled up around the blue hedgehog. Normally, Sonic found any sort of physical contact at night stifling that wasn't strictly a blanket. It was why he had a queen size mattress to himself. However, for some reason, he was more than happy to have Shadow's head nestled under his chin, and his arms wrapped around his torso the whole nigh through. And in the morning, instead of waking up to the smell of breakfast cooking, Shadow would wake him up with a handful of gentle kisses peppered across his face before slipping from the warmth of their blankets to get ready for the day. It left the hero of Mobius feeling light and airy for the rest of the day.

The days themselves were not much different than what they had been before Sonic had confessed to Shadow, but there were little added surprises and delights that Sonic slowly got to discover over time. Like how Shadow apparently quite enjoyed Sonic surprising him with little kisses as he zipped past him on his way around the house, going out of his way to make a game of it to try and catch him to return the kisses, stating that he couldn't let Sonic get one up on him. Or finding out that Shadow liked to waltz by walking into the kitchen one afternoon as the hybrid set some music to play before getting started on dinner, only to be swept into a dance quite unexpectedly.

There were also the new prizes for being the winner in their races. Sonic was pleased as punch when he realized that Shadow was more than willing to give in to his demand for kisses if he won, no matter how out of breath the both of them were by the time they were done. One especially memorable race ended with Shadow pinned to a tree, snarling about Sonic being a dirty cheater to win kisses, but still melting into it when Sonic nipped at his lips and pressed his fingers into the dip on the hybrid's hip that he knew made him shiver. Sonic was fairly certain the only reason they hadn't just gone at it against the tree then and there was because Shadow noticed that they had actually wound up on a hiking trail and had expressed that Tails walking in on them kissing was one thing, but a total stranger did not need to get an eye full of hedgehog. Frankly, Sonic begged to differ, but Shadow distracted Sonic with a well placed roll of his hips before slipping free of the other's hold and taking off.

Sonic tried not to give too much thought to the fact that Shadow had yet to return his declaration of love, despite the fact that they were very much together. He could wait, even if being patient was slowly eating him up inside. Shadow deserved all the time in the world to figure things out.

Unfortunately, peace on Mobius seemed to be perpetually fleeting, so time was not really on their side.

Realistically, Sonic had known it was only a matter of time until Robotnik put together some new cockamamie scheme to try and take over the world. So, he couldn't really be too surprised when, a mere two months after Shadow appeared on his front lawn, he got a call to aid from Sally. Apparently, Eggman had managed to amass himself a new little army of heavies and miscellaneous badniks, topped off by Metal Sonic leading the charge.

"Go figure Egghead would choose now to attack," Sonic growled, glaring at the screen Tails had pulled up, detailing what they currently knew about the bombardment.

"It was going to happen sooner or later…Though, I do also wish it had been later," Tails grumbled, typing rapidly as data and videos flashed across the screen, "And with Metal Sonic leading the attack, you know he means business."

"Metal Sonic?" Shadow echoed, stepping up next to Sonic to look over the screens. He'd been elbow deep in the side garden when Sonic got the call, having taken it over when Sonic offered it as a spot to transplant the lavender to. He'd opted to finish up and take a quick shower while Sonic got debriefed from Sally over the communicators and Tails got all of the info the freedom fighters had to offer.

"Yeah…Eggman decided a long time ago that the best way to beat me was with a robo version of me. Every time we beat Metal he gets a new upgrade. Which has happened a fair few times over the years, as you can imagine. It makes him a real tough nut to crack," Sonic groused, tapping his toe impatiently on the floor. "We're gonna need all hands on deck, especially with those heavies backing him up."

"…Does that include Shadow?" Tails asked quietly, casting a glance over his shoulder at his brother, who bristled.

"No."

Shadow blinked, a frown immediately curling his lips. "What? Why not? You just said you needed all hands on deck."

"All capable hands. No offense, Shads, but you still don't know how to work your powers properly yet. You're fast and all, but we haven't exactly spent any time figuring out how you get your chaos spears to work. It's too risky to have you out on the field," the blue hero stated bluntly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Full offense taken," Shadow growled back, quills bristling as he took a threatening step towards Sonic, "All you are is fast. I can fight! Don't treat me like I'm fragile just because I don't remember everything yet."

"He's kinda right, Sonic," Tails added, spinning around in his chair, "Arguably, Shadow is the strongest person we know. Even without his chaos spears, he'd be an asset against Metal. You can't bench him just because you're worried."

Sonic reared back slightly, shooting Tails a glare. "I'm not worried."

"You blatantly are. You know Shadow is a good fighter, and he's as fast as you are. The two of you against Metal would be ideal, while everyone else takes on the heavies and badniks. You can't argue that battle plan is sound. You're just worried he'll get hurt, like the last time you fought together," Tails reasoned, anxiously fiddling with one of his tails.

"…Is that true?" Shadow asked, posture relaxing as Sonic bit his lip and looked away. "Sonic. You can't seriously want to endanger others just to keep me safe? We'd work better as a team to beat them now, before they advance too far. Listen to your head, not your heart."

Sonic growled low in his throat, ears pinned back as he glanced between his brother and partner, before looking back towards the screens where a video of Metal Sonic decimating a freshly evacuated house was playing on loop. He squeezed his eyes shut, hunching his shoulders for a moment, before throwing his arms up with a frustrated shout. "Fine! Fine. You're right," he half snarled, rubbing his hands over his face. "I just," he sighed, posture going slack as he looked to Shadow, his expression defeated, "I hate the thought of you getting hurt again because I wasn't fast enough."

"Give me a little credit," Shadow snorted, folding his arms over his chest, "I can take care of myself." And with the self assured stance and cocky little smirk that settled on his face, he looked every bit the ultimate lifeform he claimed to be while aboard the ARK, and Sonic couldn't help but believe him.

Getting to the fight had been simple enough in the Tornado. The issue was that once they'd begun to approach the battle field, Sonic and Shadow were almost immediately separated from everyone else by Metal Sonic. There was no time to dodge as Metal slammed into the Tornado as it flew in low to land, Sonic and Shadow leaping from the damaged plane to go after the robotic ruffian as he tried to lay waste to the freedom fighters first line of defense.

It didn't take long for Metal to lead them to Robotnik.

"Hey, hey, Eggy!" Sonic called, pausing on the battle field as Metal dashed off to his leader, "Took you longer than usual to try something. Getting slow in our old age, are we?" He shot a smirk towards Shadow, who simply rolled his eyes as he came to a stop next to the hero.

"I'll have you know that proper fabrication takes time," Robotnik snapped back, leaning over the edge of his egg mobile to shake his fist at the hedgehogs. He froze upon seeing Shadow stood next to Sonic, openly gaping and holding a hand out to keep Metal from advancing again. "Shadow?! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help stop your tirade against the good people of Mobius," Shadow declared, puffing his chest out in a self assured way that made Sonic snicker quietly next to him.

"Wh-Seriously? After all I did for you, this is the thanks I get? Family is supposed to stick together, you know," Robotnik grumped, slouching back in his seat.

"…Family?" the hybrid echoed, all of his previous bravado disappearing in an instant, "What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? Oh, only that Gerald Robotnik, my grandfather, created you? How hard did you hit your head when you crash landed? I thought I got Metal to catch you before too much damage occurred," Robotnik stated, waving a hand through the air, "The real question is, how did you manage to get caught up with the blue idiot and his little band of do-gooders? One minute you were unconscious in my med-bay, and the next you're gone."

"I-I don't-," Shadow muttered, shaking his head slightly, suddenly turning to Sonic, "Did you know about this? All this time, were you still keeping secrets from me?!"

"I didn't mean to," Sonic said quickly, shaking his head and waving his hands through the air, "Honest! It totally slipped my mind that Egghead and Gerald were related. I swear!" He quickly made a crisscross gesture over his chest, "Cross my heart, Shadow. With everything else going on, I genuinely just forgot."

"Convenient detail to forget," Shadow growled, turning his attention back towards Robotnik and Metal, "We'll talk about this later. For now, let's just deal with the mechanical menace and make sure everyone stays safe."

"Sounds like a plan," Sonic easily agreed, already dreading the conversation they were going to have to have later. Hopefully it would go better than the last conversation they'd had to have when Sonic purposefully left out details of the hybrids past.

"A disappointing plan," Robotnik snipped from above, finally lowering his arm to allow Metal past him, "You should choose who you side with more carefully, Shadow."

"I think I was plenty careful with my choice," Shadow bit back, quickly dodging as Metal slammed into the ground where he had been standing, leaving a crater behind.

"You tell 'em, Shads," Sonic called with a grin, zipping around Metal to deliver a swift kick to his head, making him lurch to the side.

"You are on thin ice," the hybrid hissed, dodging yet another blow from Metal.

"Right! Noted," the hero said with a strained laugh, moving in tandem with Shadow around Metal.

As far as Sonic was concerned, the fight that followed was relatively average when it came to battles against Metal. They exchanged blows, Metal got a leg ripped off, and overall it leaned in Sonic's favor, especially with Shadow at his side. He thought things were going relatively well, particularly when Metal's engine began to sputter out after an exceptionally swift round house kick from Shadow. However, Sonic really should have learned not to count his flickys before they hatched.

Metal was obviously getting desperate, his blows getting more wild and erratic as Sonic and Shadow gained the upper hand, his failure eminent and predicted, if Eggman's disappearance was anything to go by. Sonic should've known better than to take his eyes off of Metal for even a moment, but their fight had gotten closer to where the freedom fighters were finishing off the last of the badniks, and he couldn't help but check on them when he heard Amy shouting directions across the battlefield to Knuckles. Those precious few seconds were all that Metal needed to swoop in at the hero, claws raised to strike.

"SONIC!"

A grunt left the blue blur as he was body slammed to the side, time seeming to slow to a crawl as he twisted in the air, watching in horror as Metal's claws came down across Shadow's chest, digging into flesh and hurling him at speed into a pile of rubble. He gasped as he hit the dirt, winded and terrified as Shadows blood spattered across the spot he'd just stood.

"No," Sonic gasped, staggering to his feet just in time to intercept another blow from Metal, snarling in the robots face as he grappled with him. "Get out of MY WAY," he bellowed, quickly spinning and throwing Metal haphazardly to the side, not bothering to watch where the robot landed. "Shadow?!" He scrambled over the torn up landscape, hurrying to the hybrid's side, where he lay in a heap amongst broken cinder blocks and splintered wood. There was a large, open gash across Shadow's chest, exposing some of the white bone beneath flesh, making Sonic gag at the sight, and a prominent wound at his temple that was slowly oozing blood across the stone he'd apparently hit his head on. "No, no, no," Sonic's hands shook as he gently brushed his fingers down Shadow's arm, choking on air as his fingers hit the inhibitor ring around the hybrid's wrist. "Shadow?"

There was no time for Sonic to grieve his mistake, as the tell tale mechanical sounds of Metal dragging himself across the battle field could be heard close by. Swiftly, Sonic stood, icy fury on his face as he ran to where Metal was forcing himself onto his functional leg. With a low growl the hero spun and kicked the juddering robot to the ground, letting out a primal yell as he pounced, hammering Metal with swift punches before ripping one of his arms free of his body and tossing it aside. He finally sat back as the robot sparked and sputtered, his eyes flickering as his power cells shorted out. Sonic stood on shaky legs as Metal finally powered down, turning quickly to run back to Shadow, only to find Rouge and Tails huddled around him, the later hastily wrapping bandages around the gaping chest wound.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Sonic practically wheezed as Rouge hurried to hold him back, Tails muttering something on his communicator when he caught sight of his brother.

"He's a trooper, y'know he is," Rouge reassured, keeping her hands firmly on Sonic's shoulders, even as he tried to push past her to get to Shadow. "The others were just finishing up when we saw you two over here. We're gonna get him the help he needs, Blue, don't you worry."

"It's my fault," Sonic murmured, wild eyes shifting from Shadow's supine form to Rouge's face, "I looked away for a second. I looked away for a second and he got hurt. Again! I-It's my fault."

"Hey now, sugar," Rouge cooed, wrapping her arms around Sonic's shoulders and giving him a gentle squeeze and he shuddered in her arms but refused to cry, "It'll be okay. You'll see."

Getting Shadow into a hospital was a bit of an affair, given that GUN almost immediately tried to take over his care and sweep him away to a secure facility once word got to them that he'd been active in the fight. Unlucky for them, Sonic was steadfast and stubborn, and since he had been the one to check Shadow into the hospital in the first place, the staff wouldn't discharge the hybrid without Sonic's signature. The subsequent argument with the commander had been explosive, but ultimately the hero of Mobius had won, and the commander was removed from the hospital for disturbing the peace. And so, Sonic found himself sat in a rather uncomfortable chair in a private room on the third floor of a hospital, watching over the still form of one Shadow the hedgehog, his hands wrapped around Shadow's limp fingers and his head bowed. It had been two days since the battle had taken place, and Sonic had barely slept a wink, not wanting to miss the moment the hybrid woke up.

"Mnn…Where am I?"

Sonic's head shot up at the raspy words, a brilliant grin breaking out across his face at seeing squinted crimson eyes glaring around the hospital room. He gave Shadow's hand a gentle squeeze, leaning in to try and catch the hybrid's gaze. "Hey! You've been out for two days. It's nice to see you awake. How're you feeling?"

"Like a truck hit me and I guzzled a bag of sand," Shadow grumbled, pulling his hand free of Sonic's grasp to rub at his face. The blue hedgehog took that as his queue to grab a glass of water from the table next to Shadow's bed, sticking a straw into it and wiggling it in front of the hybrid's face.

"This might help with the sandy feeling," Sonic hummed, smiling warmly as Shadow took it with a grumbled 'thanks'.

Once the glass was half empty, Shadow looked around the room once again, frowning a bit as he took in his surroundings. "So…where am I, and why are you here, hedgehog?"

Sonic reeled back like he'd been hit, blinking rapidly in surprise at being called 'hedgehog'. He hadn't been called that since the ARK incident. "Uh…you're at the hospital. We fought Metal Sonic and you got hit pretty hard. Apparently Metal actually managed to claw deep enough to scratch a couple of your rib bones. And, well…I'm here to keep watch over you, I guess."

"Hmm…Well, as you can see, I'm awake and fairly functional. You don't need to watch over me anymore," Shadow stated blandly, his stare cold and distant, holding none of the warmth that Sonic had grown used to over the last couple of months.

"I….right. Yeah," Sonic nodded quickly, lurching up from his seat, his heart in his throat and suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up, "I'll go let Rouge and the others know you're okay." With that he hurried from the room, swallowing down any and all emotions that threatened to tear free of him. The most important thing right now was letting everyone know that Shadow was awake, and then he could go lock himself in a bathroom and have a miniature meltdown over the fact that his partner apparently no longer remembered the last two months. Maybe it would be a bathroom halfway around the world. That sounded like a plan.

Once he made all of the appropriate calls via phone and communicator, Sonic took off. If there was one thing he was good at, it was running. He ran for what felt like days, not stopping until his legs threatened to stop working from exhaustion, and even then he pushed himself until he found the most secluded, out of the way cave he could to finally break down and weep. He wept for the scant period of happiness he'd managed to have with Shadow, and the kind warmth that the cruelty of the world had taken away from the hybrid. And he wept for the shattering of his heart, because he knew that with the return of Shadow's memories, and the grating reality of the world baring down on them, Shadow's heart would inevitably be closed to him. Tragedy had built steep walls around Shadow's heart, and Sonic very much doubted that he would be able to scale them again.

So, of course, he was quite surprised when a figure appeared in the opening to the cave, blocking the light of the setting sun. He lifted his head and wiped at his face, squinting against the light with red, puffy eyes, taking far too long to recognize the familiar upturned, red striped quills of his 'rival'. "What're you doing here?" Sonic grumbled, voice slightly raspy from crying.

"Looking for you, obviously," Shadow stated bluntly, striding forward and digging into his quills. He procured a bottle of water and held it out to the blue hero. "Here. You're probably dehydrated."

"Thanks." Sonic took the bottle, but simply held it in his lap, staring off into space, not wanting to meet Shadows eyes and see that same look of cold disregard again. Not yet, anyway. He jumped slightly as Shadow sat down next to him with a heavy sigh. He chanced a glance at the hybrid out of the corner of his eye, absently biting at his lip at the far away look on the others face. He stayed silent, wondering what Shadow might have to say.

"Rouge filled me in on everything that happened," Shadow finally spoke after what felt like an eternity, the sun having mostly dipped beneath the horizon in the meantime, "The fight and the time you spent watching over me in the hospital."

"Is that all she told you about?" Sonic finally cracked open the bottle of water, taking a slow swig.

"That's all she needed to," Shadow shifted, tilting his head so he could watch Sonic sipping at his water. "I remember. Everything."

The bottle of water paused halfway to Sonic's mouth, emerald eyes darting to meet crimson, a glimmer of hope in them. "…everything?"

"Everything."

Shadows eyes still weren't as bright as they had been while he'd been living with Sonic, but the blue hedgehog hadn't expected them to be. All he was truly hoping for was a spark of recognition and the warmth he'd lost himself in multiple times in the last few months. And lo and behold, he found it. His breath hitched as fresh tears pooled in his eyes, a hysterical little titter of a laugh escaping him.

"You could've probably given me more than two minutes to get reoriented before taking off like that. It was a real pain in the ass tracking you down," Shadow groused, leaning back against the cave wall.

"Sorry. I'd sort of just had my heart shattered into a million little pieces, so I wasn't really thinking straight," Sonic snorted, rubbing at his eyes, unable to wipe the dopey smile off his face.

"Mmm…About that," Shadow sighed, reaching over to tap at the water bottle, forcing Sonic to continue taking little sips, "I wanted to talk to you about our…relationship."

"What about it?" Sonic couldn't keep the nerves out of his voice, the plastic of the water bottle crinkling in his grasp as he crushed it slightly in anxiety.

"I wanted to ask you if it was something you truly wanted to keep pursuing, now that I'm…fully aware again."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just, that I'm not the same hedgehog that you seemingly fell in love with. I haven't been that hedgehog since before Maria died. Truthfully, I don't know if I was really ever that hedgehog," Shadow murmured with a little shrug, "You fell in love with who I was. Not who I am."

"That's not true!" Sonic practically shouted, sitting up and forward, making Shadow jump and stare at him with wide eyes. "I know that's exactly who you are! Under the trauma and all of the shit life has thrown at you, that is who you are. You're warm hearted and kind, with so much love to give it hurts to watch people shy away from you. Shadow…I know you love eating raw coffee beans, the smell of lavender, and if you could you would spend days just sitting in a comfy chair, reading. You like old timey music that drives Tails nuts, you know how to waltz, and you absolutely shine when you tap into your chaos energy. Those are things I love about you, and they don't suddenly disappear just because you're hurting. Please. Give me, no, give us a chance. If you think you're so different now that you have your memories back, give me the chance to get to know who you are now and prove that I love you, no matter what."

Shadow sat, stunned into silence for a solid minute, until he finally swallowed thickly, blinking back obvious tears. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do. With every fiber of my being."

A tiny quirk of the lips was all the smile Sonic got, but it was like the sun itself was shining on him, even though it had long since disappeared beyond the horizon. "If you'd like, then."

Sonic let out a cheerful shout, tossing his half empty water bottle across the cavern absently, before shifting to sit on his knees, leaning into Shadow's space with a grin on his face. The hybrid leaned back, his ears tipped back in uncertainty as his space was encroached upon. "I'm going to kiss you now," Sonic stated, wiggling like an excited puppy, his tail a blur behind him, "If that's okay?"

Shadow blinked, his smile slowly returning as he realized what Sonic was doing. "Please do."

With another happy little sound, Sonic darted forward, pressing his lips to Shadows as he brought his hands up to gently cup the hybrid's face, letting his thumbs absently sweep along his cheek bones. His heart beat an elated staccato in his chest, having thought he would never get the opportunity to do this again.

When they broke apart, Shadow made a soft little humming sound, reaching up to take Sonic's hands from his face. He took a deep breath, giving the hero's hands a light squeeze as he licked his lips, obviously working his way up to saying something. Sonic stayed resolutely quiet, not wanting to break whatever fragile moment was building between them.

"Say it to me again," Shadow finally spoke, lifting his gaze to stare intently into Sonic's eyes.

"Say what again?"

"That you love me."

"What for?"

"Just do it, Sonic," Shadow grumbled, earning a light laugh from the blue hedgehog.

"A hundred million times, or more. As many times as you'd like," Sonic hummed, brushing his thumbs against the back of Shadow's hands, "I love you."

Shadow let out a breath, offering Sonic a soft, warm smile, one that Sonic knew was now only for him. "I love you, too."