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Shadow is not grinning at his phone screen like an idiot. He's not.
He's just… checking it. To see the name. Of the goddamn restaurant Sonic invited him to. Shadow's yet to determine exactly why; the entirety of last night's conversation feels like a fever dream.
On the other hand- there's no way to misinterpret this, right? It was a weird enough thing to text at almost midnight, and although Shadow doesn't have the most experience in this area, it's hard to read an invitation to dinner and a movie followed by the words "it's a date" as anything other than… well, a date.
Shadow flicks through the messages again, the action feeling unnaturally bulky. How people stand these modern touch screens is beyond him. The address and time stares back at him, along with one of those stupid little emoticons Sonic is apparently so fond of.
So. Right. It's real. Shadow chaos controls his phone back to his apartment, probably startling the hell out of his chao. Or possibly she's used to it, since this is the fourth time he's done this today.
It's a beautiful evening on a not-busy back street. The sun dipped past the horizon several minutes ago, drenching the city in twilight. If he focuses, Shadow can hear the subway rumbling beneath the pavement, catch the faded scent of cigarettes and exhaust in the air.
Shadow's sure he's quite a sight- dark makeup, slicked-back quills, and jet boots, all bracketed against the giddy expression of a smitten schoolgirl.
Whatever. He's fought his way back from death before; surely he's earned the right to grin down at his shoes as he skates along the sidewalk.
"Don't get your hopes up," Shadow tells himself, because there's no one else on the block to look at him like he's insane. "It's just dinner."
(Just dinner. For so long that's been the purpose of their interactions- to the point that Shadow assumed whatever relationship they'd built would fall apart as soon as their arrangement ended. But Sonic still wants to see him. Spend time with him without the need for feeding or venom or- or any of that.
He's never been more relieved to be wrong.)
It fails. He still can't stop smiling.
Which makes it all the more embarrassing when someone manages to sneak up on him.
Shadow chokes first, scrabbles for a grip second, but whoever's got their hands around his throat doesn't give an inch, seemingly unaffected by the scratches he carves into their fur.
He only manages to regain his footing once he's fully in the dark of a nearby alley, and it's perhaps a sign he's grown too used to the sensation of being choked that Shadow doesn't immediately flip his attacker into the ground. Though, he really, really should have, because then he's slammed against the wall and there are fangs in his neck, driving so deep Shadow is momentarily terrified they've struck bone.
Reflexive tears spring to his eyes, followed by a wave of nausea he's not entirely sure is blood-loss related.
The person pressing him up against the grimey brick wall is decidedly not Sonic. Even in the darkness of the alley, it's obvious they're having to hunch over to reach his neck, and their fur (although monochrome in the dark) is definitely a few shades too light.
Shadow jerks his knee up- the angle is off and it only hits their thigh, but the punch he follows it up with collides solidly with his attacker's jaw.
It tears the fangs from his neck and Shadow grits his teeth to keep from gasping as a fair chunk of flesh tears along with it. Blood trickles through his fur.
Shadow pushes off the wall, intent on figuring out who this asshole is and pummeling them (probably not in that order), only for the pavement to spin under his feet, reality blacking out for a small, horrible second. He flumps back against the brick wall, breathing heavy to clear it.
The vampire is standing up. They let out a rough laugh- almost a bark- gingerly rubbing their cheekbone. "Man, you've got some fire, huh? Most of you bloodsacks can't manage to break past the venom."
Shadow stares at them. His tongue feels numb and his head's still spinning. This is vampire venom?
Sonic's venom never felt like this, never made his blood crawl under his skin, hot and dizzying and terrifying.
(It just felt… warm, when Sonic did it. Safe.)
"But you're special, aren'tcha?" The person continues. A canine of some kind, Shadow decides a bit deliriously, like it matters at all. "Gotta be honest, I thought mate bonds with non-vamps were a myth. You must be a real freak."
Shadow furrows his brow. The effects are getting worse with each second, but he's too curious not to ask. "Mate bond?"
"Yeah," says the canine, tongue flicking out to swipe some of Shadow's blood off their upper lip. "I can smell their venom on you. Taste it, too. Whoever you've got hooked is one possessive vamp," they take a lazy step forward, and Shadow's hackles rise on instinct, chaos energy sparking to his fingertips. He curls his claws into his palms before the light can draw attention. "Not that I blame them. Did you really not know?"
Alright, that's enough. If even Shadow lost all sense of reason and decided to trust this information, this is hardly worth risking his life over.
The solution, luckily, is obvious: his lucidity may be shot, but his chaos energy sure as hell isn't. Couple inches closer and this bastard's toast.
"Go to hell," Shadow snarls. He purposefully tilts his chin up to expose the blood on his neck.
Sure enough, the canine takes the bait, closing the gap.
They're taller, sure, and use it to every advantage as they place themself between him and any exits. If Shadow were a normal opponent, he'd probably be screwed. But he's not, and he isn't. The canine stops dead when Shadow smirks up at them, and they actually take a step back when they notice the lightning arcing from his open palm.
Their eyes are wide, reflecting moonlight and electricity alike. "What the fuck is that?"
Shadow would be overjoyed to show them exactly what.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get the chance.
Something slams into their side from the alley entrance, both them and it crashing to the ground in a writhing mass of limbs and claws. Shadow very distinctly registers the sound of flesh tearing. Never in his life did he think he'd become so familiar with that noise. Gunshots, maybe, but not claws and teeth and-
Breathe.
Against all odds, Shadow's head feels worse than before, stars exploding in his line of sight as he lets the chaos energy fade back into his body.
When it clears, he finds himself staring at a bloodbath. And… Sonic.
The canine is holding their ground, which is shocking at first but makes infinitely more sense when Sonic finally manages to pin them to the pavement and growls in their face like a wild animal, baring blood-stained teeth for maximum effect. There's nothing sane about it.
(Shadow's sure this would be over in a second, otherwise- a blessing in disguise, since Sonic clearly isn't capable of exacting restraint at the moment.)
The other vampire responds in kind, fangs snapping at Sonic's shoulder. Sonic throws his arm up just in time, not even flinching as their jaw closes around the limb and instead throwing his weight forward to bury his claws in their throat.
It brings the fight to an abrupt halt, the canine struggling to push Sonic away while still holding his arm in their jaws. That seems to be working to their disadvantage, leaving them unable to draw a clear breath alongside the deepening neck wound as Sonic attempts to throttle them into the ground.
He's going to kill them, Shadow realizes suddenly, nerves going cold.
"Sonic," Shadow snaps, like he's talking to a misbehaving dog. He can feel the skin of his throat pull against the gaping wound, his chaos energy already straining to stitch it together. No reaction.
Supporting his own weight is almost enough to make him vomit. He bites his tongue and stumbles forward anyway, until he can drop to his knees besides what is about to be a murder. "Sonic," Shadow repeats, shaking the hedgehog's shoulder. Sonic's attention flickers to him for a second, but reverts almost instantly to watching the life drain from his opponent's eyes. "Let them go. This isn't you."
Still nothing.
…welp. Shadow spares a single millisecond to lament how much this is going to suck.
Then he throws himself at Sonic, sending both of them tumbling across the disgusting alley pavement.
As predicted, Shadow's vision swims again, but it's getting easier to push past, his engineered metabolism finally kicking into high gear. Behind him, the canine gasps out for breath, the sound concerningly wet but at least it exists.
Shadow ends up on top, half-sitting across Sonic's stomach. Sonic stares up at him, panting, brow drawn flat in confusion.
He hears the other vampire scramble to their feet and book it out onto the street, not turning to watch them go. They're both so terribly screwed if this, if any of this, gets out to the public, but Shadow can't make himself swap priorities.
"You back yet?" Shadow asks, and Sonic frowns. Swallows.
For a second, he looks almost calm; an echo of the person Shadow has grown to know.
Then his eyes drift down to the bite on Shadow's neck.
Shadow's body reacts before he does, singing a little tune of danger, run, RUN, but his critical thinking is dulled at best, and all he manages to do is let go of Sonic's shoulders before the hedgehog grabs him and flips their positions, not-so-accidentally slamming Shadow's head against the wall with a sharp crack.
(That should probably hurt. Fortunately, Shadow can't feel it past the ground spinning underneath him.)
Sonic biting him is more of an inevitability than a shock. Yet Shadow can't help the pained whine that bubbles up his throat, because for some fucking reason, Sonic has decided to bite directly over the existing wound.
It's not… the worst feeling in the world? Especially compared to earlier: Sonic's touch is a familiar one, even now, and the spacey feeling that accompanies it is closer to comfort than fear. It's akin to those first moments of wakefulness, the last before you fall asleep. Not quite awareness, not anything at all. Just warmth.
Kinda like freezing to death.
"Stop," Shadow manages, words jumbled in his mouth, unable to be strung into a comprehensible sentence. The nausea has returned full-force, and he's suddenly grateful that he's already on the ground. Even if there is sixty pounds of feral vampire on top of him.
Sonic's only reaction is to bite him again, unhooking his fangs and sinking them back in just a few centimeters off from the first bite.
It rips another gasp out of his lungs, back arching on instinct. His aching head doesn't particularly appreciate being thrown back against the brick wall again, but, whatever. Fuck it. What's a concussion compared to lethal blood loss?
"Sonic. You have to- to s-stop." Shadow sets his palms against Sonic's chest and pushes as hard as he dares. He can't afford to lose another pint of blood right now.
Sonic growls, but releases his hold. Pulls away.
There's blood dripping down Sonic's muzzle and matting down his chest fur. His body is warm, or maybe Shadow's is growing colder.
"Are you- is that you?"
As if in response, Sonic ducks his head again, nuzzling the curve of Shadow's throat. His breath is too-hot, burning against what Shadow recognizes must be his own slightly-feverish skin.
Shadow's breath catches when he feels fangs again, but Sonic doesn't go for the bite. He licks across the previous bites instead, mouthing at Shadow's neck in a way that feels too sweet to be solely a hunting instinct. It's possessive and demanding and Shadow squirms under the attention for reasons that have embarrassingly little to do with discomfort.
This is tempting fate. Shadow knows it is. Sonic's not lucid, for as much as he's being gentle right now.
He lets his head drop back anyway.
It's probably fine, is the thing. Sure, Sonic's licking the blood on his neck, but, fuck it, that was going to go to waste otherwise. And the tiny nips Sonic's layering across his throat don't hurt, not really, drawing pinpricks of blood at most, and- and it feels good. Is that such a crime?
Sonic bites him again. The slide of fangs under his flesh feels like the most natural thing in the world.
That voice in Shadow's head is back, echoing faintly that something is wrong, but for the life of him he can't remember what.
Hah. Life of him. That's funny.
Wait… why is that funny? There's a reason, there's a reason they can't- that he can't-
"Don't," Shadow mumbles, not knowing why. It's quiet; Sonic probably wouldn't have heard it even if he were in the mood to listen. "I, I need to-"
He needs to do something. Something important. He was supposed to…
He was supposed to stop this. The thought breaks over his head like a bucket of ice water, wrenching him back to reality for a harsh second. Shadow's supposed to fight back, punch Sonic in the face, anything. He promised.
A chaos blast would solve this in an instant. It's enough to deal serious damage, give him time to escape where a punch might not; not to mention that he's losing strength with each passing second. He's never used it during their fights before: Sonic's always been particularly vulnerable to it. Shadow would be destroying fire with fire. Or possibly decimating fire with fire, if he's not careful. The energy curls in his palms, all he would need to blast Sonic into next week.
The idea leaves him feeling sick, even beyond the nausea that's becoming overwhelming. He can't- he can't. There has to be another solution.
…this alleyway is darker than it was five minutes ago. Should he be worried about that?
"Stop," Shadow rasps, presses a hand against Sonic's muzzle for all of two seconds before the effort becomes too much and he lets it drop. Sonic doesn't seem to hear him, or even feel it, but Shadow keeps talking, a desperate man spinning tall tales in order to see the morning, "Please, Sonic, let go, I can't-"
Survive this, hurt him-
Huh. The lights really are dwindling, Shadow thinks, with faint clarity. Surely this is darker than the city usually is.
His last thought, haphazardly cobbled together by his misfiring brain in the seconds before he blacks out entirely, is that he's never felt more relaxed in his life.
Small mercies.
----
Something is wrong.
Sonic opens his eyes (was he asleep? he doesn't feel asleep), hazy aftershocks of red and green playing across his vision. It's not his usual wakeup call of being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, either by work of nightmares or his own natural peppiness.
It's… sluggish. And dark. Is- is it night?
He blinks again. Brick walls. Cement floor. There's a train blaring somewhere far off in the distance. So: decidedly not his bed.
The last thing he remembers is… being at the restaurant. Did Shadow show up? No, he didn't, he- what did he do?
Pull it together. You're running out of time.
His muzzle feels sticky.
He raises his head (carefully, his fangs are caught in something), intent on rubbing whatever the hell is in his fur out of his fur, only to come face-to-face with what exactly he's been laying on this entire time.
Or, y'know. Who.
Sonic freezes, breath stopping cold in his throat. "Shadow?" He says, horrified to find his voice scratchy and the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.
The alleyway smells… wrong. Like Shadow's blood, but not quite, because there's another scent mixed up in it and if he just sunk his fangs back in, he could fix that, he could-
Sonic bites his own tongue to ground himself. When did he start leaning back in?
Shadow's fur is stained just as badly as his own, if not worse. There's bitemarks layered atop bitemarks all along his throat, some closer to gaping wounds than traditional vampire bites. Sonic isn't sure of the exact amount of blood Shadow can regenerate without dying, but this already seems disportionate to his small size.
Is- is his chest moving? "Shadow," Sonic grabs his shoulder and shakes it, a stupid fucking move by any paramedic's standards, but he can't help it. "Shadow, wake up, I-" his voice abandons him then kicks back in with a painful snag. "Shads, if you die, I'll run down into hell and kill you," Sonic manages with mounting hysteria. He's shaking Shadow too hard.
Shadow automatically draws in a sharp breath, eyelids fluttering slightly. He doesn't wake up, but it's enough to allow Sonic to calm down enough to think.
Okay. Blood loss. More than he can handle with a surface-level knowledge of first aid and absolutely no supplies. Ergo: they can't stay here.
"I'm gonna pick you up now, 'kay?" Sonic tells Shadow's unconscious form, for no reason other than to grasp at a sense of normalcy. He doesn't wait for a response. There's no point, after all.
He bundles Shadow up into his arms, holding his breath to staunch another wave of hunger as the scent of fresh blood hits his nose.
Sonic's halfway through the city by the time Shadow stirs.
"Mm," Shadow mumbles, followed by something that might be an attempt at Sonic's name.
Sonic doesn't slow down- because he's a goddamn professional and all that jazz- but he does nearly trip on a bit of uneven sidewalk.
"Where're we goin'," Shadow rasps. Sonic chances a glance down as he rounds a corner; Shadow's pupils are huge, the red practically invisible. That can't be safe.
"Rouge's place. She'll- she'll know what to do." Or, so Sonic is desperately, fervently hoping.
Hospitals are a no-go for both of them, but Shadow especially. If anyone realized exactly what he was, if any of his records ended up on file, Shadow probably wouldn't survive the repreussions even if they could save his life.
"Okay," Shadow says simply. He blinks, slow like a cat. "...what's going on?"
"You're-" Sonic's throat feels funny. Is he getting sick? That'd be motherfucking hilarious. The grand karmic retribution of the universe- getting sick for the first time in his undead life as recompense for killing his partn- his riv… his friend. "You're exhausted," he says finally. "Go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."
(If.)
"You better," Shadow mutters, tilting his face into the crook of Sonic's neck. His breath is cold.
Shadow passes out again within the second, leaving Sonic to dash into the apartment complex in complete silence. The person manning the front desk doesn't look up in time to spot him- he lets the stairwell door drop shut with a bang and hopes to chaos above that no one decides to check the cameras.
Rouge's apartment is on the fourth floor, and Sonic can't fucking remember the room number- ever, but especially right now- so the mangled doorknob is a dead giveaway sent from god. Or Omega, but who's keeping track?
He shifts Shadow's weight to one arm (has he always been this light?) and slams his fist against the door repeatedly, as loud as he can physically manage without shattering the wood. Shadow doesn't stir.
The door swings open halfway through his fifth second of knocking. Rouge momentarily stares at his hand where it hangs in the air, hair pulled up into a messy bun and a mug of tea in her non-dominant hand. Then her attention drifts down to Shadow.
Her expression turns over twice in rapid succession like a rusted-over engine, horror to grim resignation and back again. Rouge glances up at Sonic a second time. Sonic holds her gaze, determined not to flinch as she stonily examines the blood on his muzzle.
"Inside, now," she orders. Sonic doesn't think he's ever heard her voice sound so cold.
Rouge turns without waiting for his response, striding into the kitchen. She slams the mug down so hard on the counter that Sonic thinks he hears the ceramic crack.
It's still less sharp than her gaze as she turns back to him, first aid kit snatched out from underneath the sink. "Put him on his bed, and prop his head up. Think you can manage not to kill him while I'm grabbing shit?"
"Yeah," Sonic stammers, but Rouge is already storming out of the room without a second glance.
Right.
He glances down. Shadow's chest is still rising and falling, soft puffs of air rustling Sonic's fur. Okay. He's fine. For now.
He darts into Shadow's room without wasting any further time, and sets his sleeping form atop the covers. The bed is roughly made, as if Shadow was in a rush the last time he left and didn't devote his usual amount of attention to arranging the blankets.
A stupid, pointless surge of endearment hits the back of Sonic's throat. He swallows it back and busies himself with the pillows supporting Shadow's head. It's far too easy to move him; by the time Sonic steps away his hands are shaking again but at least the bleeding has slowed even further.
Although, that could just be because he's bleeding out-
Stop.
Rouge bustles into the room, Omega at her heels. Sonic's always known Rouge to be the more dangerous of the two, but it's never felt more true than at this moment. She looks like a woman on a warpath, features hard and stormy as she divides the items in her grasp with cold efficiency. Mostly bandages, from what he can see, plus a few bottles.
Omega is carrying one of those I.V. drips the have in hospitals, keeping it suspended in the air rather than attempting to roll it across the apartment's carpeted floor. He sets it down beside Rouge. She's fussing with a towel, tucking it tightly against Shadow's neck.
If Sonic squints just right in the low light, he almost can't see any of the blood that's slowly staining the fabric.
"Hold this here and apply pressure. Don't choke him," Rouge orders, clearly expecting Sonic to take her place at the bedside as she turns to inspect the I.V.
Sonic does. He doesn't even try to watch her hook the needle up to the tube. Just sets his hands against the towel and tries his best not to let his nerves take over and accidentally almost kill Shadow a second time.
He does, however, glance over after she's tucked the needle under Shadow's skin. The wrist, not the hand- probably for quicker effects? Or maybe she just didn't want to struggle to remove the mess of dried blood that his gloves currently are. "What are you giving him?" Sonic asks, half to fill the tense silence that's taken over the room. The liquid flowing through the drip is too dark to be blood.
"Iron," Rouge says shortly. She tapes the I.V. down. "What, you think I just happen to have bags of blood sitting around on hand?" She pauses, and then adds, "Actually, that's not a bad idea. Omega, go rob a hospital."
"Added to schedule."
Rouge stands silently for another few moments. Her fingers curl around Shadow's, like she's not quite sure what to do now that she's finished this specific task. It's unnerving, since Sonic was kinda starting to believe she had all the answers.
"I knew this would happen," she says suddenly. "But I let you keep hanging around anyway."
Sonic looks away from her. There's a lot of things he could say, excuses he could make, but in the end, he's not sure it matters. Shadow's still on the edge of death, still bleeding out due to Sonic's fangs alone. "Will-" his voice stops for a second, but he pushes through it. "Will he be okay?"
"I… I think so. No thanks to you." Rouge pushes away from the bed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. It looks like she's fighting off a chill, despite it being a warm midsummer night. "I suggest you leave now. Or I will make you."
"Yeah, that's- that's fair." Sonic steps back, Rouge immediately takes his place applying pressure. "If, um," that weird inability to swallow has returned. It's starting to get really annoying. "If anything goes wrong, you'll tell me, right? Anything you need, just tell me and I'll get it for you. You guys won't even have to see me."
It earns him another stare. Rouge's expression isn't anything at all, more like she's mystified by his very presence. "Fine. But nothing's gonna go wrong, I won't let it. Now get out."
That's probably as good as he's going to get. Not to mention better than he deserves.
Omega wordlessly raises his machine gun arm in Sonic's general direction when he hesitates a second longer. Rouge must notice; her ear twitches- but she makes no effort to stop them.
He leaves without another word. The apartment feels quiet as he darts through the rooms he's grown so comfortable in these past few months. Too quiet. Sonic tries not to let his brain make the comparison to a tomb.
It's only once Sonic is closing the door behind himself that he finally notices the cold tinge to his muzzle. He presses his fingers to his face absently, fully expecting to see blood when he pulls them away.
Oh. Water.
No wonder Rouge was staring at him, he thinks numbly.