Chapter Text
The end of the war was like the last breath on an organ. Drawn out, discordant, and final.
Flames flickered into a blaze, and smoke filled the battlefield, making the speedster cough his lungs raw. His ears rang with the shrieks of Mobians and the sound of falling debris around him. Every step he took was clouded by ash in his vision. He had witnessed Eggman collapse, getting buried beneath the rubble. His body stilled. Sonic's heart clenched. He ached to save the mad scientist, but his body hardly moved from his place. Was it wrong that he wanted to save the one man who kept attempting again and again to end his life? His stomach knotted in shame
The damage was beyond what he saw.
There were too many cries. Too many lives to save. Too much damage. If only he moved faster…
Drones around him dropped in heaps of sparks. In the last glimpse he had gotten of Eggman, there had been no movement. No breath
“Sonic– where are you? We have to leave the——, it's going down!” An urgent voice distorted through his communicator.
He didn’t remember how the flagship started to tilt.
He didn't remember the gut-wrenching pain in his abdomen.
-
-
“Pull it out!” a panicked voice shrilled.
“Don’t touch it!” another voice snapped, low and furious the kind of anger that only came from fear. “You’ll kill him faster, idiot!”
The rest of the voices tangled around his body as he fought to keep his eyes open. Move. Just move something… But his body remained still. He gritted his teeth.
“I’ve got you, I swear—Sonic, please…” He could pick out the begrudging voice of his little brother before the world tilted, darkness swallowing everything into silence.
_______________________________________
He wakes alone.
His eyes felt heavy as he opened them. Unfamiliar. No sound surrounds him except for the hum of a ventilator and the steady peep of a monitor. The Hedgehog squints as he is hit with immense confusion.
Something pressed over his face, pumping him with oxygen he didn't ask for. The room smelled sterile and painfully clean. Too white and too empty.
Looking down at his thinning arms, he lifts them, and the IV tubing lifts with it. His finger looked like it belonged to a runner who hadn’t run in weeks. His nails are clean, too clean. A loose, laminated wristband spun with the twitch of each movement
Sonic feels wrong, a deep hollow feeling in his chest. He's missing something. His body feels infiltrated by the tubing that turned his body into an extension of the machines. He blinked twice at the IV.
He stares. And then his hands reach
The tape pulls his hair. Winicing as he pulled out the needle, and that wasn't even the worst part. He felt suffocated with the face mask, using both hands to yank off the monstrosity. One by one, removing all the medical devices. Gagging as he forced the feeding tubing out of his nose. The machines had left off a screeching alarm before he silenced them by force. He didn't care. He just didn't want to be here.
Where was everyone?
With the cleanest sock he’d ever worn, he placed his feet on the floor. The cold tile seeped through the thin fabric. His legs shook with a great amount of force with just a little pressure on them. This was just great.
The blue hedgehog Hodge pushed himself anyway. Barley, making it to the wall as he palmed it to keep himself steady, grunted in frustration. He shuffled towards the door, looking out into the short corridor; the place seemed heavy with security devices.
He only managed a few feet down the hallway before his knees completely buckled beneath him. On nothing, he might add. The world tilts as he is barely able to catch himself, saving himself from impact with the cold tile.
A gasp cuts off the hall.
Before him, mid-step Rouge looked shocked and stuck a hand to her mouth. “Sonic?” she breaths. Shadow beside her, his posture iron straight, his eyes turned straight and sharp towards Sonic.
“How long?” Sonic's voice comes out corroded. His lips are notably dry, and he knows his breath is far from refreshing.
“How long?” he repeats, still sitting in his falling position on the tile.
“You shouldn't be out of bed,” Shadow says. He's already moving. He's giving the hedgehog a hand, pulling him up. Enough to support him, it wasn't gentle, but it was enough to keep Sonic standing somewhat.
Sonic shrugs him off with the strength he could muster. It wasn't much, but the Striped hedgehog backed off. His body was leaning on the wall behind him.
“How long!” he repeated like a broken record, his voice cracking from the dryness.
The alarms finally woke him from his room, making him wince. After that revelation, a nurse comes sprinting around the corner, followed by another. The voices rising— Unhooked himself—Get the cart— Page Dr. Cam!
Rouge steps through the noise, trying to anchor it “Blue”; it was the softest he had ever heard the Bat's voice. “Two years.”
The floor was steady but he wasn't as his body rocked from the weight of the words. He suddenly felt like headed. There are hands under his arms voices he doesn't recognize and it's all too much. He quickly grows frustrated, wringing in their hold
“Don't touch me!” Sonic swings his arm weakly from the prying hands. His senses were overloading and he was overwhelmed.
“Hedghog. You've got to settle down.” the Gravelly voice insisted with an effect the Blue Hedgehog didn't expect. He furrowed his brows as he allowed the staff to sit in a wheel.
.
.
He had been back in that awful room but this time it was occupied by medical staff. A doctor and a nurse he could only presume while a few scientists lingered back. Along with Shadow and Rouge who stood on the sidelines. The white bat mouthed words into her phone that Sonic couldn't hear.
The doctor stepped forward with a stethoscope in hand, sonic nodded with permission as the cold metal glided across his chest, “My name is Doctor Camilla Hawthorne or Dr.Cam. I'm the lead physician who has been looking over your case.” The warm voices introduced themselves. The doctor then gestured to the wolf mobian at her side, “and that is nurse Tali. She has been overseeing your care”
The nurse gave him a warm, careful smile. “It's nice to finally see you awake Sonic.”
He hummed awkwardly, the introductions feeling foreign and heavy. He cleared the scratch in his voice with no success and rasped, “yeah..awake. I guess that's another word for it” he wondered if he closed his eyes and opened them again all of this would've been a dream, but to his dismay.
Dr. Cam retreated the stethoscope, putting it around her neck with a sigh. Her facial expression didn't soften, “We need to talk about your condition."
Sonic‘s ears flicked back. "Condition," he muttered, “It sounds bad when you say that.” He felt the nervousness in his gut. He couldn't pretend he didn't notice the weakness in his legs. What else was new? He feared the answer.
“You won't be happy about it,” she said fatly. “But you deserve the truth.”
She didn't waste time getting straight into the deets. “Head trauma first. You fractured your skull and suffered a severe concussion. For a long time, we weren't sure if you’d wake. Your brain activity was unstable. Which is why you were under such close monitoring.”
“Sonic’s hand instinctively twitched up to his head, brushing against his quills. “Figures..I always went headfirst into things..” he tried to smirk, but it cracked into an awkward silence.
Cam went on with a sigh, “Your abdomen sustained a deep puncture wound and multiple organs were damaged. We had to operate more than once to stop the bleeding and repair what we could. As a result of that, there is significant scarring.” She was showing him a picture of a CT scan where a foreign object was lodged in his abdomen; he didn't know how to feel about it.
With a quickness, the blue hedgehog lifted his shirt to see the jagged scar. “Can I?” Nurse Tali asked for permission to touch him. Talking as she ran her finger along the scar, “it’ll limit your range of motion. Twisting. Sudden impact, even deep breaths might not be comfortable. We can consider reconstructive surgery in a year or two, but we need to see how your body adjusts first.”
Sonic's face squinched up, his chest tightening as he let his shirt fall. Hand hovering over his abdomen, “..so what you're saying is I can’t run anymore?”
“No.” Cam snapped, sharper than before. “I'm saying you must not. To lessen the risks. Your powers are tied to your lungs, your heart, and your legs. Your body already has such hits and forcing it before it is ready could kill you.”
The words slammed into him. His fist balled against the sheets in the bed, anger rising. “You can't just tell me–.That's what I do! I-If I can't run, what good am I–”
“Blue..”
“Enough.” Shadow’s voice cut across his fury hard. Bringing his attention to the two rogues, who were no longer on the phone and her expression held heavy pity.
“You're alive. That’s what matters.” The grave voice reasoned. Sonic glared at his teeth. His chest rose and fell too fast. Dr. Cam continued. “Your legs are severely atrophied. Walking will be difficult, let alone running. You’ll need support.” She nodded to Tali, who placed a lightweight cane at his bedside. It seems to be made of a strong metal..
The Blue hedgehog's eyes widened, narrowed in offense as he pushed himself furthest from it, “ A cane!?” his voice cracked loudly. “What am I a senior citizen? I'm twenty-five!” he protested
Rouge’s wing folded close, her face tightening. She stepped forward sitting beside Sonic on the medical bed. “No, Blue, you were twenty-five, You're twenty-seven now.”
The words hollowed him out. His throat burned, his breath caught. “No…” he muttered, shaking his head. “No, that’s not—”
His fury gave him strength as he swung his legs to the floor. But the second his feet touched the tile, they gave out. His knees slammed, and Shadow caught him before he crumpled.
“Stubborn fool,” Shadow muttered, holding him up with iron steadiness.
“Don’t need it!” Sonic wheezed, shoving weakly against him, his pride burning hotter than his failing body. “I don’t need—”
_______________________________________
A month has passed….
Upon waking his eyes met the familiar dark painted walls he's been looking at for the past 30 days. He remembers that after the day he was woken up, he hadn’t been discharged for at least another week. It felt like a fever dream seeing his friends’ relieved faces, some tears, and changes.. That was what bothered him the most. He must've been so out of it in G.U.N.’s medical bay that he barely remembers the events.
They gave him a list: no powers, no straining, no high fats. No chili dogs. No to this and no to that. It was a yes to meds that lined the dresser of the guest room where he lay. It was a yes to a strict diet that reminded him of hospital air. Infection was now the enemy he had to face and the only one. Now, being a retired hero. Rejection lurks like a shadow with teeth. He hates that the words make sense. He hates how Shadow nods along like he's memorizing orders.
Rouge offers her a place in her home. He loves her for it but he's learned that both she and Kunckles had moved in with each other and lived on Angel Island. Not wanting to be a permanent guest and third wheeling he politely declines.
Amy and Tails would've said yes before he could even finish asking. He sees himself as a stain in their places. He won't.
He picks Shadow because it makes the least sense and the most sense at the same time. Shadow doesn’t coddle. Shadow lives by rules. Shadow won’t look at him like a cracked statue you’re afraid to touch.
Shadow doesn’t ask why. He opens his door like it’s an assignment.
The silence of his home was unnerving. Nothing new, a boring routine he's gotten used to. The dull dark colors of the home didn't do much to appease his mood. He felt down- he wouldn't dare say depressed. He had just lost his spark.’
It took him longer to get the motivation to get out of bed. He's sure the room and sheets smell of his musk with the amount of time he spent glued to it. He knew Shadow wouldn’t be pleased by it but then again the dark hedgehog never offered much of his opinions. Sonic appreciated it in ways.
He stumbled down the stairs, fingers gliding amongst the marble counter, staring at the strip of sunlight cutting across the floorboards. His ribs still twitched when he twisted wrong or too hard. He knew his stomach didn't like most foods- he knew this when he insisted on eating his old favorite foods and got violently ill. He was on a strict diet that Shadow enforced like law. He couldn't run. He couldn't sprint. He couldn't even think about using his powers without a Shadow's voice in his head; you’ll rupture something. You’ll kill yourself.
He avoided the dark thought in his mind that he’d at least die trying to be himself.
He hated the constant structure, the way Shadow managed meals, the way he hovered without admitting he cared. But some buried, quiet part of him..appreciated it. He didn't have words for that part yet.
Sonic pulls the lukewarm breakfast out of the microwave Shadow had made. It was a light omelet with toast. Devouring the meal quickly as he goes to rise and wash the dish, putting it neatly on the dry rack after. He knows how Shadow likes it, the hybrid was a damn clean freak. Which is why he spends most of his time in the guest room, at least he can keep his funk in one place, not wanting to bother and intrude on his personal space.
Saying that there wasn't much he could do..most days he spent bored on end with no one to talk to. His friends were–busy. Busy with life that is. They didn't pause when he went out cold; it made him feel behind severely. His friends were so close yet so far from him he hated to bother. He was stuck in this recovery phase of his, sad, pathetic.
He sat on his bed scrolling through the little contacts he had. Contact picture from when they were still a team. He sighed slouching down on himself, his thumb lingered over tail's contact..his little brother. His best friend. It's been a couple of weeks since they talked. Little after his discharge it was him checking on Sonic asking questions about how he felt physically. At least that didn't change about the fox.
He yelped in surprise as he accidentally clicked the call button, his nerves getting the better of him. Mentally cursing himself, why did I do that! Am I that desperate?
His overthinking being caught off by the familiar cheerful voice he used to know sounded a tad bit older, “Hey, Sonic!” Tails answers like he’s been waiting by the phone for years. There's the silent hum of him tinkering in the workshop through the phone, the noise clattering to life.
“Hey, bud.” His voice wobbles unintentionally he cringes running his hand over his face.
“You okay?” The pause follows gently. Tails always did know how to look under boards and find the root.
“Sure. Just..bored. I didn’t mean to call you.” he answers quickly.
.
.
“You sound off.”
Sonic presses his plan over the scar like he can himself in, “ I’m fine. You’re busy. I shouldn’t’ve-”
“I can talk,” Tails says immediately, then softer “Are you really okay?” He wants to say no. he wants to say yes. He says "Promise," because promises are used to things, because he doesn't have better tools.
He hangs up the phone with nothing solved.
Sleep takes him in one long slide
.
.
.
.
.
Oil hisses. A pan taps metal. Spice blooms in a memory that never belonged to him. Sonic inches his nose at the intruding fumes in his nose. Sitting up he rubs the sleep from his eyes and has half the mind to descend out of the room and down the stairs.
He's palming the wall with slow steps as he enters the kitchen. Shadow is at the stover sleeves pushed to his elbows, moving with weapon-clean precision. Sonic still hadn’t gotten used to this view of seeing shadows doing such hobbies as he called them. It was weird
The blue hedgehog hesitates in the doorway, finally gaining a glance from the hybrid.
“You’ve been asleep most of the day,” Shadow says. Not cruel. Not kind. An observation that lands like a verdict anyway.
“Didn’t plan on it,” Sonic mouths he tries for a grin and remembers how it's forced though.
“You need to get out of the house,” shadows half the heat and slides the tender salmon along with rice onto a plate.
“And do what, go for a walk?” Sonic replied with a mocking tone. He stumbled over to the counter island side to sit. The scar tugs annoyingly as he gets himself situated. The dark hedgehog gives a tight look at Sonic's staggered movement but he doesn't comment.
They eat. The clock ticks for both of them. The kitchen is so quiet he can hear his fork think.
“Feels like everyone else figured out how to live while I was gone,” Sonic says, fork drawing a clean line through the low-salted salmon. “I woke up, and there were instructions for my body, but nothing for..the rest of me.” He mumbles he doesn't know why he's spilling all this all of a sudden, especially to Shadow but it happens.
“Then we learn,” Shadow says, standing up, throwing his dishes in the sink, reminding Sonic to do the same. He disappears up the stairs with a comment.
Sonic’s reflection stares back at him from the half-empty plate — thinner, older, stranger than the hedgehog he remembers. He grips the counter tight, breath shallow.
“…What if I can’t?” he whispers to no one.
The house creaks in reply.