Hello, readers! Long time no see.
It has been a ridiculously long time since I even went on FanFiction, let alone even writing it. I'm glad to be back, since summer is around. I forgot how fun it was to write in general, so writing this one-shot was all too refreshing. I hope you enjoy this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it.
SEGA owns every character mentioned, and "Abraham Tower" is coined in the Archie Comics. So yep.
Enjoy. :)
-BAA
"Hey son, you doing alright?"
The casual slur of the bartender bounced through the hedgehog's ears, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Shadow the Hedgehog looked up from his mug and nodded, adjusting himself to sit up straight on the uncomfortable pedestal that was his stool.
"You haven't drank much, you know."
The hedgehog peered down at the ember liquid glistening beneath the neon lights that advertised a colorful array of beers that promised to be more appetizing than his own. He was weary, but this place never seemed to be, as his partner took him out one night to celebrate a completed mission. That night, that bat sprayed everyone around a ten foot radius of her with the contents of a chamapgne bottle. She celebrated like she won a grand prix.
Like it wasn't a normal Thursday night off the clock.
Like…
"Son?"
She knew a reason to keep going.
He didn't drink anything that night, either.
After even more silence, the bartender scoffed with, "Well, aren't you fun. You must be the epicenter of parties."
Meanwhile, Rouge was off doing God-Knows-What. The bar was too boring for her taste, she said; he was probably going to find her at the doorstep of the apartment they shared as part of squad protocol passed out in her own vomit, or step into his apartment and pleasantly encounter someone else's via the tip of his boot. Who knew with her? He surely never did.
Come to think of it, he never knew much.
"Your lady friend, though," the bartender snickered, slowly pulling out a dirty rag to ironically remove grime from the tabletop to his right, "Now SHE…"
"She is quite the trip, isn't she?"
Right at that moment, Shadow's ears flicked upward. Quickly turning his head to his right, he growled, clenching his glass and feeling droplets trickle down to his gloves.
"What in the hell are you doing here?" Shadow bared his teeth, and the man next to him shrugged.
"Same reason as you, boy," Dr. Eggman swirled around the clear liquid in his shot glass, turning towards Shadow with a small smirk. "Long day at work, a lot on my mind, et cetera, et cetera. A hard-working man deserves to treat himself, wouldn't you agree?" taking the small shot-glass, Eggman swooped in to clink it against Shadow's mug, afterwards stating in a dry tone, "Cheers."
Downing the shot, Eggman nodded towards the bartender and quickly said, "Another."
The bartender took the bottle in-hand and tipped it over the shot glass, letting the vodka slosh into the small, hollow glass. At a certain point, Eggman raised his palm, and the sloshing ceased. The bartender silently walked away from the two, going back to his grime-infested tabletop.
The granite seemed to be growing colder under Shadow's arms, with Eggman downing another shot.
"Sonic beat you again today."
"Really?" Eggman stuck his index finger into the shot glass, letting it twirl clockwise with his finger. "I had no idea."
"Tails shot down your mech."
"The Hawkfire. Personal opus."
"Knuckles swept in to take your cobalt emerald, and Sonic used his homing attack to hammer you into the ground even further."
"Quite."
"And yet you talk about it like it's a normal day at the office."
"And it's not?" Eggman snickered with, "This constant battering is my occupation, you know."
Squinting his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows, Shadow inquired, "…What?"
"An occupation, to my knowledge," Eggman snickered, the rolling sound of the shot glass echoing through the void of the bar, along with the crevices of Shadow's silent mind. "Is a duty in which you are paid to do. Sometimes bi-weekly, sometimes weekly, or…heh, in my case," Eggman rasped while holding the shot glass still, with the bartender swooping back in to pour another glass, "Daily."
"Right," Shadow huffed. "Because you're a masochist."
"Well," Eggman slurped the shot, the silver glow of vodka against the neon lights disappearing and slinking down his throat. "I could very much say the same about you."
The only people who don't know how easy it is to make a room more silent than silence itself are the people who aren't in the room. The void feels emptier and the air feels so thick that one could swim and drown and fall desperately into it.
Shadow slowly lifted up the mug from the granite, leaving behind ringlets of water. He held the osmosis-infested mug atop his lap, hands cupped around the mug as the liquid encased around the mug uncomfortably etched around his gloved fingers. He was facing Eggman at this point.
"What do you mean by that?"
"When are you going to stop asking questions and instead give me some real dialogue?" Slurp. "Another."
The hedgehog's scarlet irises were piercing, and his muzzle curled into a scorn.
"This wasn't about me." he snarled.
"It is now," Eggman snickered after his drink, "And when was it not? Tell me. How long have you been a GUN agent?"
Eight months, seven weeks, eleven days.
"None of your damn business."
"And a squad leader?"
Two months, seven weeks, eleven-
"Shut up."
"Why? We were just getting started. Another, bartender," Down. Pour. "That's it, old sport."
"None. Of your. Damn. Business."
"Is there any particular reason why you're being so defensive about your own occupation?"
"Any at all?"
To his left, Shadow's eyes grew even wider as he whirled around to see his commanding officer right next to him, glass of merlot positioned delicately between two of his fingers. His green and brown eyes narrowed towards the hedgehog, with his wrinkles remaining upright with his stoic expression. He was still in his uniform; he was never off the clock, but there he was, accompanying his own agent and his adversary in this wildly silent bar that was too boring for Rouge.
"Commander?"
"He asked for real dialogue, Shadow," the commander mindlessly and yet ever so gently swirled around the liquid in the wine glass, examining the legs of the wine cascading down the hollowed diameter. "Along with answers."
"So go on, Shadow." Eggman rolled the glass between his index finger and thumb. "Tell Mr. Tower and I why you're being so defensive."
Don't lose yourself, Shadow.
His breath quickened. Peering down at his beer, Shadow felt as though it was getting lukewarm. Not even a sip was taken from it.
Don't.
His palms were shaking a little.
Don't do it.
He did nothing.
"Remember when I recruited you, Shadow?"
The commander turned his back towards Shadow and Eggman, staring out a window. It was raining. Maybe it was raining for an hour, or all night, or maybe it had just started. The street lamps were out, with a single convenience store across the street serving as the sole beacon outside, fuschia lights portraying the name, "TORBO'S NICKEL & DIM"; the "E" in the end was flickering.
"…Yes." After a pause, Shadow nodded, looking in the opposite direction of the commander and glancing at the bartender's beverage choices mounted on the wall on brilliantly dull display. What was the name of this bar, anyway? "It was crowded. And-"
"I was so angry at everything, more violent than I would be in a drunken state," the commander, without a single hair out of place, chuckled, "And you gave me a ride home. We never talked about it, because we both knew it would cost me my job and my grandkids if they knew how recklessly I acted that night."
Yes, yes, Shadow remembered.
"Hey, issat th'asshole tha-hic-was with th'alien bastards?"
"Watch it, pal. This man saved the world just a week ago."
"Saved my ass. If he wahn't-hic-here then-"
The commander grabbed that drunkard by the collar, with Shadow and everyone else in the crowd watching. The man was like a ragdoll, arms slinging with the force and his mouth slurring and reeking profusely of every other rum on the bartender's dull shelves.
"Then what?"
"Then nonaffit would'appened that's-hichic-that's what."
The punch echoed through the noise and left that man sprawling with the roaches that skittered across the bar's rotting oak floors. No one in the bar brought it up again, and that man only remembered bare bones of that skeleton in the closet. The commander swept it off his shoulder, bringing up the reason why he even brought Shadow there as they were driving home. Maybe he wanted to make a point to a man drunk off his ass that woke up on his putrid sofa with the fading memory of an angry, sad man finally giving him use for his dental insurance. Maybe.
"I wanted to show people like that man that anyone could save the world and protect it from the very worst. You accepted," So it was true. "So maybe you wanted to make a point that night yourself."
It was the third time he ever cried in front of a living being.
At the steering wheel, a single tear made its way down the edge of his face. Shadow clutched the wheel all too tightly with his fists, knuckles jabbing at the surface of his gloves like daggers. He couldn't tell how exactly that tear escaped, but he remembered the purpose for it.
"He's right."
"Shadow, you saved the world and annihilated an entire alien clan single-handedly. He was drunk; he won't even remember what he said."
"But…" Shadow let out a breath with, "He's right."
The commander never did deny it.
"See, the purpose of GUN is to protect, to serve, and to appreciate the rights of man and Mobian, no matter their descent or history. You were created for us, initially, but the organization turned you against us through unneccessary violence. When I joined the force, I hoped to change our policy, and as being their commander for twenty years now," the commander folded his arms, leaning back in the passenger seat. "I feel as though I did just that."
"Sir," his voice quivered, "I-"
"Before you say no," the commander cut off the hedgehog, "Think of your original purpose. What you were really made for, and what you were warped to become."
"And something got into you to say yes to the offer." Eggman let out a huff, not even asking for another soothing shot. The bartender was like a ghost, hovering around the bar and intensely looking out for any stray stains. After a few more seconds, the bartender disappeared to go outside.
"The professor was part of our agency since he was a teenager up until he boarded the ARK," Shadow noticed how the commander was so posessive of GUN; it was like his surrogate child, in a way. "And he noticed its flaws way before anyone else. Way before the massacre, and way, way, way before he even thought about that colony."
"Same agency killed him." Eggman bluntly noted, "Brutally. Have you ever seen the footage of his last speech after it cuts off? Every agent in the room needed to go to counseling. One of the men who was part of the firing squad ended up shooting himself two days later."
"You never did put the past behind you, did you, Shadow?" the commander leaned back against the granite, still facing the convenience store. A girl walked in; strange, as it was three in the morning. Or maybe it was seven in the evening. When did this bar close, again?
Shadow flicked his head towards the commander, rasping, "Of course I did."
"So why did you join again?" Eggman drawled out, "And how long has it been?"
"Fifty years-"
Before the commander could finish, Shadow left the mug shaking in his hands, uttering, "Stop."
"See? This is why I make robots," Eggman scoffed, balancing his finger on the shot glass' side. "You never have to worry about them making their own decisions. They won't have to worry about it, either."
"Choosing," the commander took a small sip on the merlot while muttering to himself, "What an occupation we have."
"Such a masochist, working for the agency that destroyed you. Why did you make that decision again?"
"I-"
"Oh, that's right," Eggman sneered at the hedgehog, "You think playing hero like this is the only way to ever forgive yourself for not saving my cousin. Is that it?"
The mug was shaking in Shadow's hands. The commander said nothing as Shadow stuttered, "Shut up."
"You had one battle and lost it. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, am I right?"
"STOP."
"Fight the battle."
"Shut-"
"And lose it. Every damn day."
"SHUT UP!"
"Or what?" Eggman held his shot-glass still, muttering, "You'll…shoot me?"
Shadow let the mug slip through his fingers, the crash ringing across the bar. He reached out his free, damp hand and grasped a portion of the doctor's crimson jacket, yanking him like a doll and bringing him at face level. Untouched beer spilled across the decaying wooden panels and glass scattered around the stools, Shadow and Eggman were at the edge of their stools, with one's face hot with rage and the other's curled in a permanent smirk topped off with a moustache.
The commander said nothing. He did nothing. He didn't even watch.
The two were close, and Shadow was just a fingertip away from Eggman's neck. Eggman leaned in closer.
"Face it, boy," Eggman rasped, "This is a battle neither one of us will win. I've known at this point that I will probably never win against Sonic. You know you can never get her back. So what's the point of any of this? Why did you side with the people that killed you in the first place? Are you that desperate to prove your purpose to someone who doesn't even exist anymore?"
In an instant, Eggman's face met Shadow's fist, and his head swung back like an actual punching bag. When Eggman's head swung back in position, just inches away from Shadow's nose, his right cheek was pink, gradually becoming a red splotch of seething hatred.
"It's a mystery to me too, you know, why I still try to fight him," the doctor chuckled, still keeping the same dry tone as if he was begging for another shot, "Maybe it's just become such a routine for me that I can't help but try. If I win, I have no idea how I'll handle myself. And the thing is, there is that very, very faint pulse that I will some day. That I'll burn the world. There will always be people like me who will want to, and maybe I will be the one that actually will…"
The commander gently placed down his glass, looking down at his lap. He sat there like a stone, and Shadow's pulse was racing, head on fire, teeth clenched and grip quivering.
"But you? There's no chance," Eggman shook his head, accepting another punch. His speactacles were broken, and Shadow was all the more infuriated to see those squinted blue eyes, beady like the rat Eggman always was to him. "You can't bring back the dead, you do realize. There will always be people like me. If you killed us all, that's it. None of you will have a purpose. No one throws you a party. No one sprays champagne all over you. Maria isn't going to pop out of her grave to congratulate you. Is that what you think will happen? That after you threw her life away, after doing all these missions blindly for the agency that began your plight, that she'll climb out from her coffin and give you a pat on the back or hold you or kiss you and stroke her hand across your chest and let you emrbace her? Feel her up for old time's sake and relive that disturbing fantasy? Is that it?"
Punch. A tooth fell out.
"Is that what you think?"
Punch. Shadow's face was continuously stabbed by his tears. They were as jagged as the glass on the floor.
"You're in a loop, Shadow. I am too, but I can possibly get out of it. I can get out of it at any time I want to. That man-" Eggman pointed at the commander, raising his voice. He didn't even see the commander reach under his dark grey uniform shirt. "-has shown that you can't. He didn't recruit you to make a point! Do you think that?! Honestly!"
Punch. This one was hesitant.
"Oh please, give me another!"
Another.
"In my line of work, there are no rules besides the ones I make! You?"
Another.
"You were doomed from the start. You were created to protect Maria! And when she died, that was it! That was your purpose. Nothing. Else."
Another, bartender.
"He knows your power, so he's using it. GUN has made this world a better place, but when all the evil is gone, so are all of you, Sonic included, until one of you go insane and decide to blow up the universe to screw everyone over again. That's just the balance of things. Everything you all do is pointless, I'm the one who makes the decision on what I want the outcome to be. I can surrender, but I won't…"
Another. Another. Another.
That's it, old sport.
"Not being chained down to a demon for eternity is too much fun."
BANG.
Shadow's eyes widened, as he dropped Eggman and let him spill over, limp corpse still donning that wry smile. Shaking, seeing her, twitching, he turned around, seeing the commander sitting perfectly still with a bit of smoke drifting away from the barrel of his handgun, mingling with the musty atmosphere.
"Sorry, Shadow," the commander looked out to see the convenience store. The girl that walked in before walked outside, standing under the roof to avoid the rain. The sign was still flickering. Raining. Nothing changed. "Promise not to tell anyone about this. I'm meeting my grandkids from Soleanna in a few days. Which reminds me…"
He jumped off of his stool, trudging to the door and still eyeing the convenience store. It was almost as if she was waiting for something.
"I bet they'll want some candy for their visit. I always get them something sweet when they come overseas." he grinned, stepping out of the front door of the bar, stating to no one in particular, "Rings are on the top."
Shadow saw a few small rings next to the merlot where the commander sat, and he saw the commander out. The commander, who darted towards the convenience store, saw the girl and took her by the hand. The two disappeared into the neon, with Shadow reaching his quaking hand out to them. He fell out of his barstool, slithering and coiling into a ball. Some of his quills touched the blood that flowed from Eggman's bruised head, while an edge of glass met one of his hands. Eyes widened and flowing, Shadow couldn't believe how hopeless and confused he felt. He was a mess.
This was a mess.
"Damn, you boys left a mess, didn't you?"
His life.
"Well," the bartender took out a broom to sweep up the glass, "This was quite the scandal going on around here, wasn't it?"
Shadow didn't even question how long the bartender was gone.
"I stepped outside for a cigarette. Came back in here when I saw Abraham leave in such a hurry. Curiosity, you know. I always did wonder how that kid would turn out. Guess just as confused as you."
Shadow's pupils darted upward, mumbling to no one in particular, "What good am I?"
There was a pause, with the bartender dropping the broom and kneeling down towards the hedgehog.
"When I made you," the bartender patted Shadow on the head, his quills pricking upward when he did. "I never did consider it. And when I saw that perfect agency kill the most innocent people, I questioned my entire life. My life was over as soon as I joined GUN, I surmised. And you?"
Gerald looked into his creation's eyes, sighing at the quivering mess surrounded by shards of glass, spilled beer, and the trail of blood snaking around them both.
"I figured you would be the epicenter of the war."
(*)
"Shaaaaaaadow…Shaaaaaaaaaaaadow…"
Shadow's vision went from blurry to clear in a matter of seconds at the mention of his name. The white blob before him turned into his partner, who sat at his side on the couch. Her eyes were narrowed, as she placed the back of her hand on his forehead.
"Huh?" he grumbled, blinking. His head sloshed around to observe the familiars of the confined apartment he and Rouge shared, as per protocol. "What-"
"You got extremely drunk last night and passed out here, hun," Rouge patted the couch, then gesturing at the mug strewn along the floor, broken beyond repair. The brown liquid surrounding it was practically part of the disgusting wooden floor at that point. Rouge gestured at it with a flick of her wrist, muttering, "And our landlord is going to love that. Really adds to the ambience, the hopelessness."
"But why?"
"Why you were so wasted?"
Shadow nodded, but his head felt like a worn punching bag. He winced, leaning back into the stiff cushion of the couch. Rouge shrugged at this.
"Like I know," she responded, simply stating, "I'm not you. You just came home from work all exhausted and decided to drink. So…you did. Don't know what else to tell you, hun."
"Did anything happen?"
"No, besides you passing out after, like, one mug. You literally cannot hold alcohol down at all, can you?"
"I mean, did I go anywhere?"
"Um…no?" Rouge stood up from the couch, smirking with, "Is this your roundabout way to admit that you sleepwalk? Or maybe that you run out of here past your curfew?"
"There was…a bar. That bar we went to after that one mission?" Shadow asked, "Remember?'
"…Oh yeah." Rouge replied, "That place. Gross place. Doesn't hold a candle to that night club I had."
"The Doctor was there."
"You had a drink with him? How terrible."
"The commander, he-"
"Shadow."
"He killed-"
"Shadow?"
"A-And I-"
"SHADOW."
The hedgehog looked up at the bat, whose arms were folded and her eyelids were lowered. She had a jacket on, and her purse was strewn on her shoulder. After a moment of silence, Rouge stepped over to the door, clicking it open and putting one foot through the doorway. Before she left…
"I'm going to run to the convenience store down the street. Get you some tea. That's good for hangovers, and yours sounds like a delight to experience," Rouge went through the doorway, adding, "I'll make you some when I get back. If you want, I can even add some extra bitterness and hatred in it just for you. This should only take five-"
"Rouge."
The bat peeked out of the doorway, ears pricked upward in anticipation.
"Aren't you…" Shadow rubbed his temple, quietly asking, "Aren't we supposed to be at work?"
She shrugged, looking up at the ceiling.
"Yeah," she answered, "But I called in earlier. No one at GUN is dead, so we should be fine. Even the commander is off today…visiting grandkids, I think? I don't know."
She then stuck her head outside, only to be lured back with, "And…Rouge?"
Rolling her eyes, she looked back at Shadow and huffed, "Yes, princess?"
Biting his lip, Shadow closed his eyes. He sighed.
"Why…" he began, "Why did you join GUN?"
Rouge was quiet for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Rubbing the leather of her purse's strap with her index finger and thumb, she replied with, "Huh. I don't really know, honestly. I think I just wanted to have an adventure. Do something no one expected a thief to go do. And after that, it became fun and I stuck with it."
She looked over at Shadow, who was, of course, deep in thought. "We can talk more about this over tea," she added.
And with that, she was off. And Shadow was alone. Life itself was slipping away from him, with every part of his body slipping into unconsciousness. The exhaustion, consuming his being, submersed in and spewed him out onto a bar stool.
He was a familiar here. He got the usual.
He never drank, but the bartender never picked up on it.
The bartender never picked up on why.
"Hey son, you doing alright?"
And neither did he.
"Son?"
Why.
And there you have it. I've wondered for a long time why Shadow joined the agency that ruined his life, and so this was my take on it all: there really isn't an answer, and not even Shadow knows.
Since my absence from FF, I've been delving into more psychological and overall darker stuff, and I feel that my style has changed dramatically. (Hopefully improved? Eh?) I will definitely be writing much more throughout this season, so you may interprety that as a good thing or not. :P
I would appreciate what you thought of this piece, dear reader. A review makes you roughly 2.7% cooler with every one you leave. Critiques are taken with a smile, and I thank you deeply for your consideration. :)
Until next we meet,
BAA