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“Shadow, did you know? What people call shooting stars aren’t actually stars: they’re meteors!” Maria pointed at a picture in the large astronomy tome they’d use to study, “You’re supposed to make a wish if you see one, it’s a custom on Earth.”
Her eyes glittered, “Apparently there’s meteor showers too…I hope we get to watch one together when we go there.”
When she was excited, she never said ‘if we go there’; it was always ‘when’.
“We already see meteors up close every other day,” Shadow said, “Is it that impressive?”
“I bet it is!” Maria puffed her cheeks a little, “It’s about perspective. When you’re down there…” she glanced out the window, where the Earth spun ever slowly, “…everything here seems so far away. Like it’s out of reach from your hand.”
She touched the glass with her fingertips, “It’s something you can only appreciate for a couple seconds before it burns out. It must be really special to see.”
Traces of melancholy and longing appeared on her face, despite her smile.
“Maria. What kind of wish would you make?”
“There’s a lot I could wish for…of course I want to get better, and see my family…but I also want for everyone I care about to be doing well, like you and Grandpa.” Her brow pinched in thought for a moment, “One shooting star definitely isn’t enough!”
Shadow exhaled a short, fond laugh. “Greedy.”
“Hey, no one said you can’t make lots of wishes!” she laughed, turning to look at him, “What about you, Shadow?”
“I don’t believe in wishes.”
“Oh, come on,” she tapped her feet impatiently, “Amuse me.”
“Then…” Shadow tilted his head, ears twitching, “I’d wish for your wish to come true.”
“Ughhh,” she ruffled the top of his quills and he made a small noise of protest, “Not fair! You should wish for something you want. Like new Air Shoes or something!”
“Mine work perfectly fine,” he said, “I want you to get what you want, Maria. I want the Doctor’s research to be complete so you can…”
He trailed off, hanging his head a little. If the Doctor’s research was complete, if Maria was healed and they went to Earth…would he understand his own purpose, too?
“I want to understand the purpose I was created for.”
Her eyes wrinkled with her smile, fondness with a tint of sadness that Shadow didn’t comprehend at the time; she gently cradled his face.
“Then, that’ll be my wish,” her forehead rested against his, “For you to find what you’re looking for.”
The day he fell from space like a meteor, as he crossed Earth’s atmosphere, Shadow recalled her words for what should’ve been the last time
Shooting stars lasted only a few seconds; life is the same. A few years are like seconds for the universe; humans and mobians alike are born and then their flame runs out.
Death is an inevitability of life; death is inevitable when you’re about to crash into the Earth.
However, the Ultimate Life form doesn’t share this fate. For he can get hurt, maimed or killed, but neither sickness nor age will end his life. He’s come to accept this as a fact of his existence after he survived, lost his memories and regained them.
With the passage of time, he watches his surroundings shift and change and grow and a pervasive, sinking feeling starts to sprout within him. Quietly, so quietly, but present always in the back of his mind.
When Rouge grows taller than him without the need of her heels and she starts resting her arm on top of his head to bother him; when Cream’s voice changes, maintaining the soft quality but sounding more mature, a bit more like her mother; when he glances at Sonic and catches the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, a sign of someone who’s smiled a lot throughout their life and it’s now etched in his face.
It’s beautiful, it’s inevitable: certain to happen; unavoidable.
He watches Super Sonic cross the sky in a luminous arc and thinks of Maria and shooting stars and the precious few seconds of their existence.
It’s a warm spring afternoon; the world hums with the sound of flickies playing in the grass, the gentle breeze, a cicada’s intermittent chirps. They lay by the shade of a tree and Shadow cradles Sonic’s face, kisses the creases at the corner of his left eye.
“That tickles,” Sonic laughs, voice deep and a bit scratchy. He nuzzles into Shadow’s palm and presses his lips to it, “Someone’s affectionate today.”
“Hmph,” he nibbles at Sonic’s muzzle in retaliation for the teasing but all it earns him is another laugh. Sonic mirrors him, holding his face and pulling him in for a proper kiss. His mouth tastes sweet, like the red apples they’d just eaten.
“Don’t be mad,” his thumb caresses his cheek, eyes glinting, “I like it.”
His quills are still the same electric blue, now with streaks of grey; they are few and far in between. Where there used to be no fur, now his chest is fluffy (and occasionally tangled, which Shadow happily helps trim and comb through; Sonic purrs contently whenever he does). While he’s still energetic day to day, there’s a slight slouch to his shoulders now, a certain exhaustion that comes with years and years of saving the world and fighting.
“Staring,” Sonic peers into his face, “Whatcha thinkin’ about, Shads?”
“How messy your quills are.”
“Hey! I groom them every day...” at Shadow’s incredulous look he amends, “Every other day. I forget. Plus,” he loops his arms over Shadow’s shoulders, “I like when you do it for me.”
“Hm. I’ve spoiled you too much,” his hand rubs circles at Sonic’s waist, traces the contour of his hip, his ribs, “Old man.”
“Shush. We’re both old hedgehogs,” he sticks out his tongue, “Not all of us come equipped with anti-age cells though.”
Shadow hums, eyelids dropping to half-mast; his thumbs circle idly, contemplative. It’s been over...twenty, twenty-five years since they met. Shadow looks much the same.
“You’ve changed, too,” Sonic cups his face, thumbs tracing his eye ridges; he’s scrutinizing him like he hasn’t seen his face every other day for the past two decades, “Around here...” the smile he gives him is warm and fond, “Your eyes are gentler. Softer. Though, I always knew you were a softy deep down...”
Shadow pinches his side and Sonic squirms, laughing; inevitably, unavoidably, Shadow kisses his smiling lips and tastes every note, every vibration against his mouth.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says when he draws back, deadpan, “I look the same. You on the other hand...”
He traces the familiar path up Sonic’s spine with one hand, fingers dipping between quills, while his other hand pokes at the dimple of his smile, brushes the wrinkles around his eyes with quiet reverence and revels in Sonic’s content sigh; his hands have mapped a well-loved cartography of Sonic’s body across the years and while he’s confident he knows every dip and plane, every time he’s mesmerized. Every time he stares, and every time his heart aches.
(Beautiful, inevitable).
“Staring, again,” Sonic pokes his side, “Thinking about how handsome I look?”
“Yeah,” he states, bluntly, and revels that even after all this time he can make Sonic blush with just one word; Sonic laughs and flings himself forward, sending them rolling through the grass. He kisses Shadow soundly on the mouth, pressing him down against the ground. When he draws back, the sun frames his head and the breeze plays around the grass blades stuck in his quills.
“You, too,” he plucks some grass from Shadow’s own hair, “Old man.”
Maria had been ripped away from him too soon. Sometimes, when he sees older human women, he wonders how Maria would’ve grown up. What she would’ve studied, what her favorite Earth pastries would’ve been, if she and Rouge would’ve become friends and team up to get him to loosen up and relax. He wonders if she’d get to be old, have sunspots in her skin, grey hair, creases at the corners of her eyes from a happy life.
Shadow’s not one to linger on what ifs, wishes and hopes for too long, so the thought is quickly dismissed. The feeling of longing doesn’t ever quite fade away, like an old wound that never healed properly.
It’s autumn, with winter just around the corner. Sonic awakes late and goes to sleep earlier, the cold making him lethargic: when they were younger it wasn’t uncommon, but the periods of sleep have grown longer. Some nights, while laying together, Shadow counts his breaths and holds his own while lying beside him.
In his arms, Sonic shifts and curls closer to him, seeking warmth and Shadow cradles him closer. Sonic’s chest rumbles with gentle purrs and his face buries itself in Shadow’s fur; his snores become muffled.
Only then, pressed so close like puzzle pieces, does Shadow fall asleep. Funny how with time he became the clingier of the two, wanting to hold on a little longer, a little more, yearning for something that he cannot control.
Long gone are Sonic’s days of being a hero, but with the threat of Eggman long gone—he’d grown older faster than them—Sonic doesn’t seem to mind the end of his action-packed days. He’s pretty content sitting beside Shadow out in the porch of their little cabin, watching the sunset.
“We can’t race anymore,” Sonic says, leaning against his shoulder, “Isn’t that boring for you?”
“No,” he replies, resting their heads together, “Like this is fine, too.”
“I miss it,” he rubs at his knee, “What was our score? I lost count a couple years ago.”
“Me too,” Shadow remembers the exact numbers of wins and losses, “We were always evenly tied.”
“Hmm, you sure? Pretty sure I won more.”
“I thought you didn’t remember.”
“Just ‘cause I don’t remember the number doesn’t mean I don’t remember being the fastest creature alive!”
Shadow tugs at his ear fondly, “Whatever you say, old man.”
“So, I win?”
“No,” Shadow says, “I was just indulging you.”
“Mean,” Sonic bumps his chin with his nose. He sighs, “But still. I miss running with you. Feeling the wind and catching all those cool sights. It’s been a while...”
Pause. Silence. Then, quietly, Shadow asks:
“Do you want me to carry you?”
“Would you?”
“Mnn.”
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere.”
Sonic lifts his head. He’s grinning with all teeth, eyes bright.
“Let’s go.”
In his arms, Sonic is light, like something fragile. But the moment Shadow picks up speed, Sonic clings fiercely to him and woops excitedly as they go around valleys and rivers, through forests and mountains, all the places they raced through together in their youth. His eyes gleam and his smile is full of wrinkles and Shadow wants to stop time here, use Chaos Control and freeze this moment.
Anything to keep it.
Eventually, they reach a flower field and Sonic tells him to stop there.
“Hm, here should be good enough...” Sonic looks around, “Let lay around there?”
They settle amongt the flowers, petals tickling Shadow’s legs as he sits with Sonic leaning against his chest. The sun has gone down, the sky a watercolor of lavender and dark blue stretching over their heads, the first stars coming into view.
“Why here?” he asks.
“The flowers smell nice. Aaand, I remembered Tails told me tonight we would get to see it.”
“...?”
“Look at the sky,” Sonic tilts his head up and points, “I think it’s starting.”
Shadow glances up, squinting his eyes. He sees nothing at first and then—his breath catches. One by one, thin arcs of light cross over the night sky, until there’s too many of them to count.
A meteor shower.
“Make a wish,” Sonic says.
It re-awakens a memory from what feels like yesterday but was more than two decades ago. They’d stopped another Earth-shattering threat; they flew across the field in their Super forms to get back home, knowing they’d collapse the moment the emeralds’ power left them.
That day, there had been a meteor shower too. Sonic had gone up to get a closer look whille Shadow had descended enough to observe it. Among the shooting stars, Super Sonic was the brightest, the loudest, with his whooping laugh as he turned on his back midflight to contemplate them.
Shadow couldn’t look away, and so got caught staring when Sonic flashed him an excited grin.
“Feels like they’re celebrating our victory, dontcha think? Been a while since I saw them so close!”
Suddenly, Sonic’s flying parallel to him, closer; they’d both slowed their pace to admire the sky a little longer.
“Are you going to make a wish?”
“I don’t believe in wishes,” Shadow replied on automatic. Sonic laughed.
“Right, you’re too cool for that huh? I'm not much for wishes either,” he reached down and scooped a flower out of the field; he twirled it between his fingers, “But there’s one thing I want that I can’t make real on my own.”
Before Shadow could react, Sonic thrust the flower at him. The gesture brought Shadow to a stop; Sonic stopped too. They were centimeters apart, endless possibilities between them.
“So, I’ll just come out and say it. Do you want to, uh,” Sonic’s brimming with power while carefully holding out a delicate flower out to him with an almost bashful smile and a blush on his muzzle, “go on a date?”
Shadow lips parted. Around them, the shooting stars burst with light and then faded, blinking, waiting for the answer.
“I thought we were already dating.”
Sonic let out a flustered, choked out noise and his eyes widened comically. He nearly dropped the flower.
“Wuh—I mean—“
“...” Shadow covered his shaking mouth with a hand, eyes creasing, “I’m messing with you, Hedgehog.”
“What--Shadow!! You can’t do that to me!” Sonic’s laughter shook, but he got a hopeful glint on his eyes, “C’mon, for once I’m not the one messing around.”
Shadow wrapped his fingers around the flower. He leaned in close, the tips of their noses touching; Sonic held his breath.
“If you beat me in a race before we get home,” he plucked the flower from Sonic’s hand and tucked it in his quills, “I’ll consider it.”
And he took off.
Sonic followed him a beat later, yelling his name.
“I remember,” Shadow nods, “We both collapsed from using our Super Powers too much and slept for twenty-four hours.”
“Yup. But you still went on a date with me. ‘Cause I’m soooo charming and smooth.”
“I wouldn’t call you smooth,” Shadow says, “It took you years to even realize we were courting each other.”
“Heh. Courting,” Sonic huffs out a laugh, “But hey, I was a brat. I didn’t handle crushes well, and neither did you.”
“Yeah,” Shadow sighs, “You’re right.”
When you give something a name, you acknowledge it; you make it real. Accepting what they felt for each other hadn’t been easy when Sonic just cared about freedom and adventure, and Shadow was too proud to admit to it, afraid of what it implied, to care so deeply for another.
“By that point, you weren’t just a crush though,” Sonic says, voice soft, “I already wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Shadow swallows, and something gets lodged in his throat. Sonic goes on.
“So, I guess my hope came true.”
“Don’t say that like a goodbye,” he snaps. A plea. He can’t take this anymore.
“I’ll never say that."
He tilts his head back and in his hand there's a blue flower, like the one from that day, etched in his memories. He tucks it in Shadow's quills.
“It’ll always be a see you later.”
It hurts to breathe. Even so, Shadow kisses him. The angle makes it awkward like a first kiss, with a bittersweet aftertaste, a bit salty and wet. When he draws back, he buries his face in Sonic's shoulder and wraps his arms around his middle, breathes in the scent of the fresh breeze and grass, of forget-me-nots and dew.
“What about you, Shadow?” “Are you going to make a wish?” “Make a wish.”
"I would wish to grow old with you," he finally answers them, the past, the present, the future; her, and him. As the Ultimate Lifeform his purpose would never be fulfilled; he couldn’t cure her nor save her; he cannot stop time and keep him. Even if he were to use Chaos Control, it’d only give them a few extra precious seconds.
“You have grown,” Sonic takes his hand, squeezes it weakly, “That’s why you’re able to say that to me now. Silly old man.”
When Sonic kisses the back of Shadow’s hand, moisture falls on his knuckles. Shadow holds him, and holds him, clings with fervor to who he cannot keep, who slips further away with every breath, every step. Painful, inevitable; unavoidable.
“Don’t go.”
“I’m here. I’m here so...” he nestles closer, weakly squeezes his hand, “Let’s stay like this a little longer.”
Around them, the shooting stars continue falling, one by one. One by one they flicker away, until the last one blinks and disappears, leaving the night dark.