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General Audiences, Domestic, Care

Shadow receiving some much deserved TLC to help get him out of his own head and hair. Showing the caring side to his dynamic with Rouge and how she helps him through crises that aren't so world-ending.

Team Dark Week Bookclub is my mission to review all the fics from Team Dark Week at a more manageable pace and provide a review.

Mirror - 3k Words

“Why are you staring at the mirror like that?” Shadow jumps, and jerks his head around to see Rouge; the bat leaning against the bathroom’s doorway “Looking at it like what?” He asks, watching as she takes a few steps into the bathroom. Rouge comes to stand beside him at the sink, looking at her own reflection. Her eyes don't linger there long, the bat much more intrigued on whatever Shadow’s seeing in his. “Like it just killed your dog.” Day three of @teamdarkweek

The link is being stupid again. Read on ao3 here

Shadow doesn’t like looking at himself in the mirror.

This is not new information to him. Shadow has never been particularly fond of his reflection, even back on the ARK. He has always found his appearance to be something that simply…exists. It’s not something he loves, and barely something he likes; it’s just how he looks. Though lately, every glance in the mirror has been veering his cold indifference more towards dislike. Every morning he stares at himself in the mirror, and seems to find more and more things he doesn’t like. Finds more parts of the person looking back that he would rather do without. More pieces he wished were not part of the puzzle.

Shadow doesn’t know why his feelings on the matter have changed so drastically, or so suddenly, but it bothers him greatly. So much so, that he finds it easy to get lost in a swirl of negative thoughts; staring listlessly into the small bathroom mirror before him. He finds it easy to look at himself, to hyper analyze every feature he can see, and wonder why. Wonder why he doesn’t like it, wonder what could possibly be wrong with it, to wonder what has-

“Why are you staring at the mirror like that?”

Shadow jumps, and jerks his head around to see Rouge; the bat leaning against the bathroom’s doorway. She’s dressed in her pajamas still, an oversized pink shirt hanging off her shoulder and completely hiding the old, patterned short shorts she’s wearing. She’s looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised as she waits for an answer. It isn’t every day you find your teammate dissociating in the bathroom at nine A.M, after all.

“Looking at it like what?” He asks, watching as she takes a few steps into the bathroom. Rouge comes to stand beside him at the sink, looking at her own reflection. Her eyes don't linger there long, the bat much more intrigued on whatever Shadow’s seeing in his

“Like it just killed your dog.” Rouge looks at the mirror, as if inspecting it, as if looking for whatever could be causing her friend to make such a face. She then turns her gaze to him, wearing an expression that says she couldn’t find anything with the mirror that would make him look so upset. The poor mirror is perfectly fine, so what’s got him making a sour face?

Shadow rolls his eyes. “I was not looking at it like that.” He was the Ultimate Lifeform, he did not look at mirrors like they killed his hypothetical dog. Looking at a mirror like that is also nonsense. It is an inanimate object, it cannot kill a dog by itself. Plus, Shadow does not have a dog, Hence why he referred to the animal as hypotherial. The inanimate object cannot kill anything, especially a thing that doesn’t exist, therefore Shadow has no reason to be giving it that ludicrous look Rouge has just described.

“Yes you were, and I wanna know why.” His roommate pokes him in the cheek lightly, because she knows it’s gonna annoy him. Annoying her boys this early in the morning is practically a free source of entertainment, since they always get so hilariously miffed by it. A teasing smirk crosses her face when Shadow goes to bat her hand away, only missing because Rouge moves away quicker than he can reach.

“....I don’t like mirrors.” Shadow says, and almost leaves it at that. Then, Rouges gives him a look, one that wants him to elaborate further because she cannot work with only four words, Shadow. She needs more than four words to help him with the problem, because unfortunately for everyone, she is not inside his stupid head and cannot read his stupid thoughts. Rouge often complains that her life would be easier if she could read her idiot teammates' thoughts, Omega included. (She’s less serious about it than she sounds. Rouge had kept them because they were stupid idiots, not in spite of it. They were her stupid idiots, just as she is theirs.) Shadow can only sigh as he forces a further, but equally as short, elaboration out of his mouth. “I dislike my reflection.”

“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it.” Rouge clicks her tongue, then falls silent. She likely doesn’t know what to say to that, and Shadow wouldn’t either. He knows he doesn’t look like the type to feel so…negatively about his self-image; especially with all the comments he gets on his looks. Comments he always politely acknowledges, then promptly forget he ever heard. It must be just as much of a shock to her as it had been to him.

He hears Rouge take a breath before speaking again. “I used to hate mirrors too, ya know?” Her voice wavers slightly at the end, and Shadow decides to politely ignore it. To act like it didn’t happen. It was rare for Rouge to open up about things like this. Soiling the moment would frankly be an insult to her and the amount of trust they place in each other as friends.

“Really?” Shadow glances at his friend, surprised. Rouge had always been a pillar of confidence, so much so it was hard to imagine her as anything but. To see her be anything but entirely sure of herself at all times, without her usual assertiveness, would be jarring. So much so, a world where Rouge had been anything but is near impossible for him to comprehend. If she still has these insecurities about her appearance, she either found a very good way to work on them, or got pretty damn good at keeping them locked up.

“Really.” Rouge confirms with a nod, a small smile starting to slip onto her face. Shadow doesn’t know if it’s a genuine on, or one made to cover something up. He figures that information is probably not for him to know, and ceases his wonderings on the matter there.

“How’d you stop?” He asks, the words spilling out of his mouth before he realizes he’s even speaking. Shadow hadn’t meant to say that outloud, mouth moving before his brain caught up to speed; but he did genuinely want to know. To know how Rouge was able to overcome such feelings, to know if there’s a way to stop feeling so bad. If there’s a way for Shadow to fix this, for him to stop feeling such distaste when he catches a glimpse of a reflection.Rouge pauses, a thoughtful expression briefly flashed across her face.

“Well, first I had to figure out why I didn’t like myself. Then, I changed it so I did like that part.” She pauses again, as if searching for the right way to phrase the rest of the explanation. This part of the conversation feels strangely more delicate than the rest, in a way. Delicate for himself, for Rouge, or both, Shadow can’t tell. “And you have a whole bunch of unlikeable parts right now.”

“Like what?” He snorts, amused by the sudden bluntness. He knows some parts of him are less than desribale, in his own mind at least, but he;s curious to know what Rouge thinks those parts are, They’re opinions on these things have been known to clash before.

“For one, your quills are a mess.” She says, scanning over him like a popular girl in a high school movie surveying the significantly less cool, unpopular protagonist. Shadow does not know if Rouge would appreciate being mentally compared to characters like Regina George and Heather Chandler. He decides it best to keep those comparisons to himself if they are to happen again.

“They are not.” He scoffs, not unlike a child would. His quills, while lacking a little in maintenance, are perfectly fine and acceptable. They look just the same as they usually do, minus a handful of rough patches. That is all that could possibly be wrong with them, yes, a few rough patches.

Rouge raises an eyebrow at him, and reaches over till she can run her fingers through some. The area, very coincidentally, is one of the few matted ones, and the hedgehog winces as her fingers get temporarily tangled in his messed up spikes. He tries very hard not to instinctually spike them up in defense. “Shadow, when was the last time you cleaned these?”

Shadow does not respond, though his silence is just as good as any words would be.

“Alright,” Rouge claps her hand together, causing the hedgehog to jump slightly in surprise. A determined look spreads across her face, and Shadow knows there is absolutely no getting out of whatever idea she’s just cooked up. Part of him is horribly intrigued to see how she’s planning to change him, or whatever. “We’re having an impromptu spa day.”

“Now?” Shadow glances at her, an eyebrow raised. He did not sign up for a spa day when he (literally) dragged himself out of bed this morning, especially not one that begins at nine in the morning. Omega hasn’t even unplugged himself for his power cord yet; meaning that, if this goes anything like their usual spa days, their other roommate will be terribly upset at missing it. Omega is rather fond of having his outer parts beautified.

“You don’t have anywhere else to be, do you?” Rouge asks, even though they both know damn well that doesn’t matter. All other plans have been canceled until she decides she’s done with him. Spa day is a very important occasion, and one of the few things in their apartment that takes top priority over anything else.

“No….” He grumbles, allowing a small pout to form on his face. Shadow would rather not be fussed over in such a manner, but once Rouge made up her mind on something, it was hard to change it. Plus, he had been growing a little…disheveled; the hedgehog finding himself unable to do his usual self care routines. The task seemed more and more laborious by the day, especially when spending fifty percent of the day in bed required far less mental cheerleading to get him out of said bed. Though he had not anticipated skipping his routines for the better part of a week would leave him at Rouge-intervening level of bedraggled…

With now either most of their day or an hour planned out, his roommate excuses herself for a quick second, returning two minutes later with a stool. Shadow does not know where she got that stool, or that they even had one in the first place. He also knows better than to question where and how Rouge gets their furniture from, and therefore says nothing as she sets it in front of the sink and tells him to sit down and get comfortable.

He takes a seat on said stool, and allows Rouge to shift him around as she sees fit; giving her access to the quills along his back as well as his head. Shadow is left in a fairly awkward position, hunched over the bathroom sink and sitting on a decently uncomfortable stool. Rouge starts the slow and usually time consuming process of tidying up hedgehog quills, and Shadow mentally prepares himself to be there a while.

“Careful.” He warns, feeling the way her finger snags against a claw. He wouldn’t want her to hurt herself during the cleaning process. Due to the whole ‘test tube baby diabolical.’ as some of their friends liked to call it, Shadow’s quills were sharper and rougher than a normal mobian hedgehog’s would be. He’d cut his own hand enough times, and heard enough meaningless complaints from Sonic after a scrap, to know that cutting yourself on one could be a rather nasty ordeal. And he would like to not drive Rouge to the hospital for a sliced open finger, or administer any structures today, thank you very much.

“I have gloves on,” Rouge hums in mild amusement, continuing to clean through his quills in the same possibly unsafe pace. Despite her light words and mirth, and the personal knowledge of how durable their gloves are, Shadow is not as reassured as his roommate would probably like. “I don’t really think I can prick myself.”

“Just try and be cautious.” He sighs, and allows Rouge to work her magic without any further complaints. And work her magic she does, Shadow finding it concerningly easily to zone out as she tends to him. If he'd known she was this good at quills, or that he was this tired, Shadow would've let her do this sooner. (He wonders how she got so good at handling quills, since Rouge obviously had none herself. Shadow decides that's a question for later.)

“Oh you definitely haven’t been taking care of these.” Rouge says, her voice drawing him back to the present. She’s paused her preening, clearly looking at a specific spot in the mess. Shadow is horribly curious to know what was so important he had to stop being pampered.

“Why?” He asks, glancing at the mirror. He cannot see Rouge’s face in it, only her ears being shown in the reflection, but he looks anyway. So he can see at least one part of her while they converse. Shadow pointedly does not look at his ragged reflection, and quickly glances away when he feels his eyes wandering. Getting all sour over his appearance once more would only ruin his friend's generous quill work.

“There’s a big ingrown one right here.” Rouge pokes at the quill she means, causing Shadow to let out an involuntary hiss. She mutters a quick sorry, and then moves away from the affected area; her hand no longer being in Shadow’s quills. He is half tempted to ask her to ignore the ingrown one, and keep untangling the rest so he can zone out again. Unfortunately, ingrown quills hurt too much for such a request to be possible.

“That’s why that area hurt last night.” Shadow mumbles mostly to himself, remembering the sharp pain that had spiked through his head the night prior. The hedgehog, too mentally tired to do anything other than rot in his bedroom, had only changed positions until the pain went away. In hindsight, doing that was not ideal, and removing the source of the pain would've been the wisest decision. But he had just been so tired, and it was barely better today….

Rouge makes a sound in the back of her throat. Shadow cannot tell what emotion it's supposed to convey, and doesn't know if wants to. He decides not to ponder on it, and focus on what his teammate is saying instead. “Hand me the neosporin and tweezers?”

Shadow shifts slightly, so he can reach up and open the medicine cabinet without strain. It takes a second of feeling around, the items being further back in the cabinet that anticipated, but he grabs them eventually; handing them over to his teammate wordlessly. Shadow then mentally prepares himself for the pain that comes with removing ingrown quills. Hopefully Rouge is better at this than he is.

Carefully, Rouge removes the ingrown quill; muttering apologies under her breath with every pained sound Shadow makes. She then applies the neosporin to the wound, significantly decreasing the risk of infection, then hands the medicine and tweezers back to the hedgehog. He carelessly shoves them back in the cabinet, then resumes his previous position. It’s actually quite the comfortable one, once you get used to it. Rouge, praying there’s not anymore ingrown quills, untangle the surrounding area with more care than she gives the rest of his spikes. If Shadow is satisfied by her finally exerting a necessary amount of caution, he makes no comment on it. Audibly, at least.

Shadow allows himself to relax, head resting against the bathroom counter. Rouge, for someone who has (presumably) never taken care of hedgehog quills before, is surprisingly good at it. She untangles his quills with ease, humming a tune to herself as she works. It’s a melody that sounds vaguely familiar, probably one of her songs Shadow had heard blasting from a Spotify playlist. No matter how hard he thinks on it, the name of the tune escapes him. He’ll have to go find it later. The stupid pop melody is rather catchy, unfortunately.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, how long he sits there; comfortably dozing off on the bathroom counter like some animal, but a considerable amount of time does pass. Enough so, that when Rouge’s voice finally draws him out of his stupor and her hand moves away from his head, it is certainly nowhere near nine A.M anymore. Omega might have been unplugged himself from the charging port. “All done!”

Shadow blinks himself out of his daydream at Rouge’s exclamation, slowly lifting his head. He blinks a few times, getting the sleep out of his eyes and refocusing on the reflection staring back at him. He cannot yet tell if there are any significant changes. Shadow wants there to be some so desperately it scares him.

Carefully, he scans over himself in the mirror, once again hyper aware of any features he may be less than pleased with. And while yes, there are still some, he finds that there are significantly less than there were before. His quills are no longer matted, no longer sticking up in weird, ugly angles. He actually looks the most groomed he has all week, almost like his self care routines have resumed. The dislike of his reflection is still there, but it’s not as strong as it was before. It is now something weaker, something more manageable, and something that won’t leave him looking like a mirror killed a dog.

(Mentally, he feels so much lighter than he did before. It’s amazing.)

“So? Any improvements?” Rouge asks, slinging an arm around his shoulders. She draws him close to her with a smile, Shadow resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He’s close enough that she can squeeze some of the air out of him, which is what she’s currently doing, but not so much that she ruins all her hard work so soon after finishing. He fears if that were to happen, they’d be stuck in this bathroom for an even longer, even more undescribed amount of time. Omega would’ve definitely unplugged himself by then.

Shadow glances over at her, and stiffens a smile. This woman truly was magic when it came to tasks like this, he had to admit. Even more magic than his beloved, ten step skin care routines could be. He knew there was a reason he kept her around. “...Yes.”

“If you ever need mirror help again, you know where to find me~” Rouge ruffles the fur atop his head teasingly, then slips out of the bathroom; most likely going back to her room, or to the living room to steal their shared TV for the whole day. Shadow scowls as his fur is messed up, quickly smoothing it back down again.

Rouge was right. He hates looking in the mirror a little less now. If they invest in miniature spa days like this more often, the dislike might even vanish altogether. (Shadow hums to himself as he leaves the bathroom, strangely content, and makes a mental note to drag Rouge back in there whenever he next feels down about his appearance.)

#tdw bookclub 2025 #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #prose #fanfic

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