A/N: this fic hit me like a truck and ran me over twice, and I had to write it.

i.

The mask hid his face so well. He was just a thing in a costume, a dressed up monster, a villain hiding in the shadows. A scumbag scared of his own reflection. An idea, an object, a weapon. He wasn't a person anymore, not a tired but oh-so arrogant jackal with his squad – he was a nightmare, he was untouchable and bloodthirsty and all-powerful; he was his title, he was more than anyone had ever been, he was nothing. He was Infinite.

Tearing off the mask, panting in ragged gasps, and shoving the damned thing into a garbage dump feels like – it feels like he's done. He's done. Look what I've done.

His own disfigured face is his new disguise, and he stalks out of the alleyway. No. He doesn't stalk, but it feels better than to say that he's running for his life, hiding in a miserable town far away from the United Federation. Nothing's far away enough to escape the war (his own hand pointing, commanding his own army to raze a village till-) but this town sure does a good job of pretending. So inconspicuous. Be a nobody in a city of nobodies.

ii.

The store's out of blueberry yogurt, so Gadget has to go with vanilla instead. He takes three and throws them in his basket (he doesn't like vanilla but he literally cannot stand strawberry) and shuffles over to the next aisle, looking down his phone at the grocery list he made 20 minutes ago. He looks up again when he bumps into a stranger, a so sorry already on his tongue-

And then the stranger drops whatever he's carrying, and Gadget's ears burn redder than they already are as he ducks down to pick the items up. There's a roll, two rolls of gauze, disinfectant, cotton wads and actual rubber-duck-patterned band aids and wait a sec- he glances up, and the stranger's crouched down too, also scrambling for his things.

He's missing an ear. There's – that's blood in his face.

Gadget, anxious tactless med-student that he is, blurts out, "You're injured."

The stranger's eyes snap up to focus on his face, eyes blue-gold and intense. Intense in a bad way, in a runaway kind of way…

"Oh sorry, I'm – pardon." Gadget fumbles for words. "I'm – can I have a look at your – your ear it looks really bad and I know what I'm doing, I promise."

Stranger, tall-dark-and-injured, opens his mouth – and then he just nods, a sharp, jerky motion.

Gadget can't believe he said that. Can sort of believe that the stranger would agree, but on the other hand – no. What is happening. Gadget just collects the stranger's things in his own basket, surprisingly smoothly all things considering, and says, "I can pay for – for your stuff too. And, um… I'm Gadget. Hi."

There's a moment. And then stranger says, voice hoarse, "I'm Finn. Hello."

iii.

The bench is cold against Infinite's back, grounding him painfully in this bleak reality, as the wolf, Gadget, inspects his face. The feeling of so much not-negative attention on him is stranger than he's got words for, but thankfully the inspection doesn't take long. The wolf prods gently at his ear, or what's left of it, and says, "Is this – how long ago did you lose your ear?"

Numbers, words, days- "Seven months ago."

Gadget raises both eyebrows, but doesn't comment. He says instead, "I'm going to-" he makes a gesture. "-clean up that cut over your nose, if that's okay?"

No. Why not. It doesn't- His chest is killing him. No, he's above emotions, he's- His chest is killing him, figuratively and soon literally, too. "Do it," he bites out, and hates the world and himself for being in it.

Gadget looks even more nervous than before (pathetic) but his hand is steady and sure as he dabs away the blood, holding a hand beneath Infinite's chin to keep him still. His fingers feel so alien so strange so good, and Infinite feels more anger surge up. It's at himself, mostly, but he's hated the world for too long to stop now. Gadget doesn't know him. Gadget just cleans the wounds on his face, covers them, and Infinite cannot believe that anyone would just – do that. Help without reward. Help, period.

He swallows.

Gadget says, "There. I can't do much for your ear, but-"

"My chest." The words rip themselves out of his throat, if feels like. Like fate's holding him at gunpoint to say them, because Infinite doesn't want help, he doesn't need help- "Could you-"

Gadget looks down, an infinite can't say anything more. He's got a long, awful ratty scarf to cover it, and he pushes it aside. There's a sound from Gadget, like a strangled gasp, and Infinite feels sick as he looks down at the ruby. There's a pulsing gemstone in his chest, there's a gemstone in his chest and it's got an explosive charge too, it's got a chip and it's linked to-

"Get it out, just, please – get it out-"

"I-" Gadget opens his mouth, closes it. "I've – my apartment's close by."

iv.

He throws the pillows to the floor, kicks the PS3-controller underneath the sofa, and tells Finn to lay down. And then Gadget goes to the bathroom, which aside from his bedroom is the only other room in his apartment, and – and he sits down. He needs to breathe for like, two seconds. Just—alright, he's got a job to do. He throws open the cabinet and takes the med kit, and then he leaves the bathroom and faces Finn again.

Finn's slumped on the sofa, but his eyes follow Gadget's every move with focus. Gadget tries to ignore it, tries not to blush again, dammit, and crouches down next to the sofa. Finn's chest is – no, gods, what is this? He's got a ruby inside of his chest. He's got a gemstone the size of Gadget's fist embedded in his flesh. In his chest cavity, where he's supposed to have other things, like, you know, heart and lungs. Who did this?

Why?

Gadget cannot help but question, horrified, but he really doesn't want the answers.

He's forced to use a knife to carefully, carefully remove the ruby. He doesn't need to make any cuts, just pry the stone out of its hole. Hole. Fuck. Finn's got a hole in his chest.

The ruby shatters.

Gadget gets the largest part out, and drops it on the floor. And then he spends twenty minutes being amazed and disgusted and concerned, removing glimmering shards and splinters with a pair of tweezers. Finn lies rigid and still through the process, eyes looking anywhere but down at his own body, and Gadget feels like something. Feels a bit like sympathy, feels a bit like-

"What," he blurts out instead. Because there's something else in the hole in Finn's chest. "What is- that?"

"Explosive," Finn says. He's looking past Gadget's shoulder, voice utterly nonchalant in a way that makes Gadget's skin crawl in alarm. "And a – tracking chip."

v.

Thorough. The Doctor's plan was a work of art – it was foolproof, water-tight, riddled with fail-safes. Can't have the sword turning on its master. Obviously, Eggman never told Infinite. Brilliant, sick scheme – just what Infinite deserves for selling his soul for power, no?

"This – this isn't right." Gadget looks appalled. "This is-" he breaks off. Infinite can't read his expression, but after a moment, he starts digging in Infinite's chest again. And withdraws his hand, a grey chip held between the claws of the tweezer. He looks Infinite right in the eye and holds it out.

Infinite – isn't sure what Gadget means, but takes the chip and crushes it in his hand.

He is not allowed to feel anything – relief, fear, hope – before he's through with this. He just – he has to hold out for the rest of the night. But the chip's destroyed. It's over. A thrill of something goes through his veins, and he looks at Gadget. It's over.

Gadget, rusty eyes and glasses, actually stares back for a couple of seconds.

And then he bows down again, tweezers in hand.

vi.

It's a surreal night, and Gadget tries not to think about Finn. About how/why/who, about his destroyed body, about picking out pieces of gemstone from a hole dug in his chest. It's sick. It's wholly incomprehensible to Gadget. He tries not to think about it, and he tries not to think about Finn's eyes, gold and blue. His husky voice, saying things so – so unconcerned about his own safety. He doesn't think, and then – it's done.

His chest cavity he never should have had is empty.

Gadget's gloves are streaked with blood, he's got a small heap of sharp red shards on the floor, and in his hand he's holding a – a-

"The explosive," Finn says. His voice is so neutral. "You need to throw that out."

Gadget – very, very gingerly places it on the floor. Far away from himself. He needs to – there's a beach that's usually deserted, and it's close by, too. Yeah.

He swallows, and looks at Finn. He needs to dress that wound.

He reaches for the bandages, and starts wrapping. Finn is quiet, but Gadget can feel his eyes on him. It's not bothering him as much anymore. His body's warm and it's an easy affair, getting his chest hole covered up. When he's done, he's used up two whole rolls. He thinks, I ought to buy some more, and says, "Was that all?"

He's feeling oddly calm now, when it's all done and over with.

"That was all."

Gadget lets out a deep sigh, and peels of his gloves. They're red-orange with blood, anyway. He looks up at Finn's face. He doesn't look as haunted as before, dare Gadget claim that.

"Thank you." It feels almost surprising to hear it even though Gadget sees his lips form the words.

Finn says no more. A quiet which, surprisingly, is comfortable settles between them…

And there's only a few inches of space between their faces, Gadget not knowing when he slumped against the sofa. Finn's eyes look softer in the light of Gadget's tiny apartment, and when Gadget leans in his eyes slip closed, something they haven't done even once tonight. Finn's lips are softer than Gadget would've thought, and he pulls back only once, to remove his glasses.

When he leans back in, Finn meets him halfway.