A/N: How are you guys? Long time no see! I finally finished this up-it's been a really important project for me. In short, this is why Black Doom survives his fall to Shadow in my headcanon. I've been wanting to write this for a while now, but lots of things came up...it feels so good to get this written down! This story will not exceed the two chapters it has, though; it's acting as a foundation and nothing else.

Thanks for reading!

So long as he breathed, a chorus of voices breathed with him. Wherever he moved, they followed.

This isn't my body. Whose body is this? Whose body is this?

He kept moving, running away from them, but a white-hot heat was encroaching his body. More and more he found that it was useless to run; his limbs grew heavier with each step. Shadow came to a halt, hunched over with gasping, labored breaths. The only thing in sight was darkness. Everything else was just sound—constant, eerie sound.

Whose body is this?

No water, no landmarks, no help. He lost track of how long it had been, not knowing where exactly he came from or how he got here at all. He allowed himself to drop to his knees, wiping the sweat from his face. It wasn't that heat was unfamiliar to him—the humans liked watching him perform in agility and running tests. This was nothing like that. How was he not dead from exhaustion?

He touched his head, as if to try to turn the noise off. The voices were melding together, twisting into one being. Somehow this voice both was and wasn't his, and when it sounded, it was ominous and booming. It was everywhere, but Shadow couldn't find a single living thing in this place. It was simply empty and dark. No one could help him. No one could cool him off; no fans, no cold metal to lay on. Was he really stuck here? Was he going to die here, trapped in this white-hot heat?

Get out of here. Get out.

Shadow furrowed his brow, but he was too weak to form any words to protest. He merely lowered himself to the ground, desperate for any kind of relief. Of course he was tired; the fear of the unknown was enough to keep him fighting from any rest, though. The humans told him that it was risky to be by himself, even in familiar places. He was still new to the world, after all. Almost three weeks...

You've done something horrible. Get out.

Three weeks of being a "guinea pig", as he had heard someone say once. A pin cushion. A "fascinating" specimen. Something, not necessarily someone. It was constant testing and little downtime.

Go on! Get out of here. Go home.

But it was all for the girl that had become fast friends with Shadow. She was sick, and she needed a cure. So he didn't mind it...no, he didn't mind it. He would be okay as long as she was okay. Any real results would be far off from now; they still had to compare Shadow's "properties" with hers. But it was okay; he was born for her sake.

Back home...he's waiting for you.

It hurt, though—all those tests and evaluations. It was exhausting, too. There was a lot of pain and work on his side. As of late, he worried about not only himself but how secretive the humans were...he was definitely seen as an inferior. But why...? Was it because he was a "Mobian" and not human? He tried to assimilate with them, but it was becoming increasingly difficult—all because he was an object in many of the humans' eyes. At least, that's what he assumed.

Do not make him wait! Get out of here!

He winced at the voice's change of tone. When would it end? Those tests...these voices...Shadow just wanted it to stop. He wanted to be normal.

This body isn't yours! It's ours!

Maybe he didn't. He was growing too tired to care. His fever was simply not going to break, and with no sign of help anywhere, his fighting spirit was caving. He swore he heard those voices multiplying, chattering more, sneering and insistent, but he had no energy to listen to them.

The black hedgehog finally let go, hoping there would be some solace in unconsciousness.

Soft, rhythmic beeping shook him awake. Shadow opened his eyes to see something other than darkness staring back at him: a quiet, steel-plated bedroom.

It was only a dream.

He paused, waiting for anything to disprove this. Shadow found it eerily quiet without those echoing voices.

Now only the beeping remained. It was that damn alarm clock...it woke him up at seven in the morning every single morning. Although it was quiet as far as alarms go, his sensitive ears picked up on it in the deepest of sleep. Just once he wanted to sleep through it; he didn't want to know what trouble he would cause by doing so, though. By seven in the morning, the ARK's scientists were well up and moving about their work. Shadow had been told that by six o'clock all scientists were in their labs reviewing specimens and test results. For that reason, Shadow was required to be ready at seven—after all, he was a specimen, too.

Shrugging off his covers, he sat up, only to find his back covered in sweat. The whole bed, he noticed, was damp...was he that hot in his dream that it translated into real life? He wiped his brow. He felt sluggish and pale, but not necessarily feverish. Shadow hesitated, but ultimately decided it was just the after-effects of his nightmare.

He reached out to shut off the clock's alarm at his bedside table. Rarely did Shadow have dreams that he could remember upon waking. This one was very...haunting. Those voices, those words—they seemed so realistic. What were they trying to say? What did they want? They were going home, where "he" was waiting...

Logically, those voices had to have meant something. That is to say, they didn't just come out of nowhere. Nothing lined up, though. No one of significance was waiting for him here, other than the professor or Maria. And even if it was Gerald who was waiting for him, what could he possibly need from him so urgently?

The clock was glaring at him, though, and he knew he was running late. The hedgehog rose from his bed, stomach churning, and took a deep breath. It wasn't unusual for him to get a bit nauseous before going in for his "visits". He was never afraid, per se; only unnerved. Those scientists and doctors seemed to be too interested in his physical body than him as a person; that never bode well with Shadow. Some of those humans seemed nice, but once the labcoats were on, it was all business. Perhaps a little too much.

Shadow began to straighten and fold his sheets, tidying up his bed. He noticed that the thin white fabric slipped easily between his hands this morning...he was trembling. Certainly this was his nerves, too. Taking notice of this turned his stomach more.

Was he sick? Nonsense. Everyone adored him because of his resistance to disease. If it wasn't his dream, it could have been the medicine they gave him yesterday, Shadow wondered. The doctors and scientists never told him the side effects of the medicine they tested on him. He wouldn't be surprised if something didn't agree with his system.

But his system was perfect. His system was flawless. Shadow grew uneasy, pondering what else could have been making him feel this way.

Just remember that Maria will come see you today. Do it for her.

At least he recognized that voice. It was his own—solid, clear, and solitary. He dropped his shoulders, relaxing at the prospect of spending time with the human girl. It would certainly calm his nerves to relax with her. Maybe she would give some insight. Maybe he could confide in her.

Taking a deep breath to further compose himself, Shadow turned and walked out the door. He was determined to make it through this day without too much difficulty.

Just do it for her.

Luckily, today it seemed that the humans did not need much from Shadow. He was in only one office, asked a few questions, had his vitals taken, and then was out. During that time, Shadow's sick feelings waxed and waned, but he did his best to conceal them. No doubt if there were any abnormalities, the doctors and scientists would make a big deal about it. He was only feeling ill because of that nightmare. That was it, and nothing more.

Today, though, he was sent with a folder with his "results" (he wasn't told exactly what that entailed) to Professor Gerald; this sometimes unnerved him, and today it certainly did. He wanted to feel more familial towards the professor, but this sort of meeting forced him once again to be treated as an experiment. The professor knew him better than any other scientist—any other living being in the world; he would know if something troubled Shadow.

He didn't want to talk about anything, though. Not his health, not his nightmare. He just wanted to be treated normally.

Shadow arrived at Gerald's office door and knocked on it twice. His heart raced again and he dropped his gaze to the folder in his hands. His lingering symptoms had eased significantly until now. Nausea was creeping in on his stomach and he became aware of a dull ache in his head. He heard footsteps from inside, and for a brief moment Shadow thought of fleeing.

Fleeing? Why? This was the professor—someone who he could trust unconditionally. There was nothing to be afraid of. He wanted to help him. He was different from the others.

You really trust him?

Shadow froze. That was not his voice.

He's the one that trapped us here, after all. It's his fault.

They spoke in unison, just as they had in his nightmare. Heart racing, his eyes searched his surroundings for any signs of life. The intercom was off, doors were shut; there was no way it was coming from anywhere physical. He swallowed the knot in his throat. The ARK's air system hummed Shadow took a deep breath after a pause; that dream was just that—a dream, right? He was overthinking this...

Hurry. We're leaving.

God, they felt so close! Even if he was going crazy—even if some kind of medication was giving him hallucinations, there had to be something to the words he was hearing. There had to be a reason behind them. Perhaps he could talk back to them.

"Shadow?"

The hedgehog blinked at the voice; this one was real for certain. He looked up to find the professor standing in the doorway, donning his usual white labcoat, forcing a smile through his concern. Shadow came to reflect that smile (albeit slowly,) apologizing for the small "space-out", as some called it.

Gerald Robotnik was definitely not as petite as the other scientists. His body was round and full, somehow endearing and warm; the other scientists aboard the ARK had such sharp and striking features. His bushy moustache hid his smile at times, but Shadow could always feel him emitting a gentle happiness. The man never showed how tolling his work was on him. Shadow could only imagine what he was going through on a daily basis. Perhaps his life wasn't nearly as bad as he had thought.

He suddenly remembered why he was standing before his creator in the first place.

"Good morning, professor. I'm done for today. They wanted me to give you this." He handed the folder to the tall human, attempting to stabilize any trembling. Something in his stomach something surged—what exactly, he didn't know, but he pushed any concern away.

"Ah, so early? That's great to hear." Gerald took the folder and made his way back into his office. "Please, come in! I feel like it's been quite a long time since we've talked by ourselves."

Shadow nodded to himself. Gerald Robotnik was no doubt a busy man. He was the head of Project Shadow—not just in Shadow's creation itself, but everything that went with it. Where exactly these results went to and where these tests came from were facilitated by him in some shape, way, or form. On top of work, he had family to worry about. Maria, his granddaughter, was still sick, and although her parents' whereabouts were unknown to Shadow, he was sure they were still in Gerald's heart.

The black hedgehog followed the scientist inside, the door closing automatically on his way in. The office was fairly small and warm, the scent of coffee circling the air. His desk was littered with paper and sticky notes, and the whiteboard on the wall was almost as cluttered. Shadow tried not to stare at the writing simply because he thought it to be none of his business. Something about DNA, genetics...cells...even if he read it all he probably wouldn't understand it.

"Have a seat, Shadow," Gerald said, plopping down into his own. He powered on his computer and began typing in various credentials. Shadow sat in silence, listening to the clacking of the keyboard. "Do you need anything? Water?"

Come to think of it, his throat was dry. Maybe water would calm him down. That sounded nice.

"I'm okay; thanks, though."

Oh. Maybe not.

Again the two fell into silence, Shadow's conscience mulling over whether to act as if nothing was wrong with him, or to ask troubling questions. If there was something wrong with him, there would no doubt be panic. Shadow was perfect for so long; he couldn't stand to suddenly be a failure in the eyes of everyone, including Gerald and Maria.

But wouldn't it be better to say something about the voices, at least? He felt a strange distance from himself; it was as if his thoughts were becoming detached from his words. They were speaking on their own now.

This isn't my body. Yes...just like that. Just like the voices said in his dream...

"How are you feeling today, Shadow?"

He perked up at his name. Those ill feelings from before surged again, and Shadow swallowed. It would be best to be honest in this situation; Gerald cared for him more than any other scientist aboard the ARK. The last thing he wanted to do was create any unnecessary trouble, though! Revealing something like this would turn him more into a specimen than he already was. Before any lingering silence had a chance to return, Shadow found himself forcing a small smile.

"Fine," he said, voice cracking ever so slightly. "I feel fine."

Lies! Why did he say that? To the professor of all people! He could trust this man with his life, and yet he refused to open up. Was he that proud, or was he really actually scared?

"Really? Your charts look a little strange…" Gerald trailed off, beginning to list imperfections that the other scientists noted. Rapid heartbeat, elevated temperature...Shadow winced at them all. He suddenly spoke up, cutting the human off.

"Professor, it's stress." Shadow heard himself say. "I'm...there are too many tests in one day. I'm worried I'm reaching my limit."

I hate those humans; they treat me like I don't have a soul; my arms hurt and I swear don't have any more blood to give; no one cares; no one cares; no one cares.

Words were tangling up in his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to show any signs of distress.

Stop talking. Just stop already!

"I understand, my boy," Gerald said. Shadow opened his eyes, swearing he heard something of regret in the professor's voice. "But those deadlines are set by the government—not me."

Just as Shadow was about to admit defeat, Gerald patted Shadow's hand lovingly. "I will have a talk with my colleagues nonetheless."

The hedgehog stopped, processing the words. Was there something good that would come out of this after all? The professor meant what he said; he could tell. Although still unsettled, Shadow smiled—genuinely—at the human in thanks. His heartbeat soon began to resume its regular rhythm, nausea slowly dissipating. His mind was untangling itself, an inner peace emerging. Something still felt off, but this feeling was enough.

"Go back and rest, Shadow. You deserve it."

The ebony hedgehog nodded and promptly stood from the examining table. He didn't need another excuse to leave. "Thank you, professor. Have a good rest of your day."

The scientist smiled as Shadow took his leave from the office. Once the hedgehog was out of sight, the smile quickly vanished as Gerald looked over Shadow's charts again. What a grave mistake he made, involving that monster…

And now it seemed his mistakes were catching up with him.

Shadow stepped into the comfort of his room, the door sealing shut behind him. The walk back brought another fever, it seemed. Something was wrong with him, he decided; it was no use fighting it anymore. Be it stress or side-effects, he knew he needed to get some water at least.

He turned into the bathroom, switching on the sink. Waiting for the water to cool off, Shadow closed his eyes and listened to the rushing water. He avoided looking in the mirror; he didn't want to see how bad he looked at that moment. After a moment or two, he dipped his hands in the water and splashed it in his face.

Finally some relief. It was chilled, but not icy, yet it was doing a wondrous job at dashing the heat off his cheeks. He drank some from his hands, telling himself that things would get better and that these sick feelings couldn't last forever. If all else failed, he could sleep it off.

Shadow shut the faucet off and breathed. He was getting too worked up today. This wasn't like him. If it hadn't been for that dream this morning, he wouldn't be so strung out and worried sick. But the damage was done now, and he was growing tired and weak from his racing mind and twisted insides. He started out the bathroom, shutting off the light.

Goodbye.

He stopped in his tracks in the doorway, a shiver running down his spine and freezing him to the ground. The voices had returned, and now they were chanting and whispering in his skull.

Goodbye! Goodbye!

Shadow gasped, holding his head. They were so loud! There were so many of them! Where were they coming from?! What did they want from him?! His vision was blurring, stars clouding his eyes. Shadow took hold of the door frame as he felt his balance shifting rapidly. He could barely stand now. What was happening to him?!

We're leaving. You don't deserve this.

He tasted blood.

Clasping a hand over his mouth, he fell to his knees. Pain was now engulfing every nerve of his body and he found it incredibly difficult to breathe. And the heat! He swore the room was on fire. Stomach lurching, Shadow snapped his eyes shut. The taste of blood became too much to bear. He gagged, blood spilling out of his mouth and onto the floor. It was so dark...he had seen blood before—why was his so dark?!

He gasped for breath, coughing as another surge of pain shot through his body, this time from his chest.

Scream. Call for help. Someone will come.

Shadow tried yelling, but his voice was wedged in his throat. More of that eerie, dark liquid spilled out of his mouth, and again his body was seized with pain. The more he tried to relax his muscles, they tightened, and the grinding, stabbing pain sent tears to his eyes. He was going to die.

Then, he remembered. On the wall of his room, near the bed, was a button that he could press in case of emergencies...his crimson eyes desperately scanned the closest wall. He could feel his vision failing him. His body was shutting down. He wouldn't last much longer like this.

It was nothing but a small red blur, but Shadow decided it was close enough. With the last of his strength, he dragged himself along the floor towards the wall and reached.