Father and Son

The claws came down swiftly, cutting through his white coat and grazing his arm. The fabric quickly turned crimson. He stumbled back, instinctively grabbing at his arm with his other hand. He hissed and clenched his teeth. It was bleeding, but not much. That had been way to close. Something moved in the darkness. Metal clanked on stone. The creature struck again, claws swiping low and this time catching him in the stomach. It roared with anger and a deep, inner pain. It was the worst sound in the world. He fell back and onto the ground. Hands slipping against the cold concrete, he scrambled in a random direction till his back hit the wall. A chill ran down his spine, but it was not from the cold air. There was no where to go. In order to get out, he would have to cross the darkness invading the other side of the room. And in the darkness was the creature.

"I trusted you! I believed in you!"

The creature's words hurt him. They hurt a lot. More then his arm or his stomach, both bleeding and stinging. They hurt him more because they hurt his heart. The words, like the many before them, slashed and hacked away at that fragile, sensitive organ in his chest. Soon it would be cut right in two. That's what the creature wanted. That's what had happened to it. He had done some of it. He was now getting what he deserved.

The creature cried out again, moving away from the protective cloak of the darkness currently blocking the door. It came in a swirl of black, flames slamming into the cold ground as it advanced in a graceful skating gate. Eyes burning like flames, yet crying streams of water, bore into his own, his thick glasses not helping. He ducked and rolled, the creature's black, sharp appendages slashing into the wall. It backed up, slightly dazed, yet aggravated it had missed.

"You said you'd be there for me! Where were you when I needed you? You lied to me!"

Again his heart was shredded. The pain was amplified now as the creature's words were true. More pain filled his shaking, terrified body. He had lied to the creature. He had. He had said he would be there for it. He had said he would always be there for it. Yet when it needed him the most, he was not there for it. That had hurt then and it was hurting now. Everything was hurting. And he deserved it. For the wrong he had done in the past, he was now getting what had been waiting for him. For the wrong he had done to the creature. But he had never thought it was going to be like this. Never had this thought occurred to him. It was the most terrifying thing in the world.

A swishing sound filled the small, dank room. The air moved as if it were being sucked into the darkness towards the creature. He was glad his mind was quick. The second his brain matched the sound with the action, the creature was hurling towards him as a ball of black and red. Pushing himself onto his feet, he dove out of the way and closer to the darkness. The creature slammed viciously into the wall, slicing through the concrete and sending fragments of it flying. It bounced back and skidded against the ground on its fours, claws leaving large marks in the grey stone while the flames under its feet scorched the concrete. That horrible roar echoed again and he scrambled away. The creature, realizing its intended prey was scrambling back towards the light and the partly destroyed wall, changed directions.

The creature jumped, flipping over him. He skidded to a stop and stumbled backwards, the creature landing with a clank in front of him. Their eyes met. It was like staring into the eyes of death. They reflected everything. Everything the creature was. Everything it was feeling. Everything it had been through and everything it was going through. The chains that had once locked these things away inside the creature's poor, tormented mind had shattered. A man had once said that the eyes were the gates to ones soul. That man had never been more right. These two eyes were like two panes of red tinted glass. Behind that glass laid a tortured soul. The sad thing was… he had helped torture it.

The creature advanced slowly, white fangs gleaming in the light. Any other human would have said it was like something from a horror movie. This was far worse. Horror movies had music playing in the background telling you something bad would happen. There was no music here, just the creature's snarls and his own rapid heart beat. This place was deadly silent compared to the cinema knock-offs. Horror films tended to be cheesy with large amounts of fake blood and senseless violence. There was blood, but not a lot. There was violence, but it was anything but senseless. One of the worst parts about this? No one was here with him. It was just him and the creature. At least in horror films people went into the haunted house or ominous looking woods together. Sure they were usually picked off one by one or turned against each other, but they had others around them. He was completely and utterly alone. No one would see this, ever. There were no cameras in the room. Horror films are fake. This was real. This was reality. And reality was scarier then any horror film.

The creature rushed again. In an act of desperation he threw his arms up. A howl of surprise ripped through his throat as both of his arms were slashed. No, they were grazed. The creature's eyes widened as he realized what his prey had done. He had, unconsciously, moved with the creature. With a loud slam he was laying on his back on the ground. A moan slipped into the air. The creature soared over him and into the darkness, rolling to prevent injury. It scrambled to its feet, chest heaving and tears coming down in rivers.

"Why! Why did you do it!"

The creature's voice was deep and dark. It echoed through the room and broke often. The smell of blood and sweat mixed with fear and grief. The air chilled his sweaty, warm body. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth. It took a second for him to realize what the creature had said. Why had he done it? Suddenly, he spoke.

"I did it for her."

His voice was meek and soft. It did not bounce around in the room like the creature voice. A black ear twitched. The creature froze. Its body became rigid and its head snapped up. Red eyes glazed over and became almost zombie-like staring into nothing. The creature was pulled forcefully into its mind as memories long ago held back whizzed before its eyes freely. That included one memory that the creature would never forget. It flashed by and it wailed in anguish, knees buckling and hands gripping its head. Those sharp claws sunk into their owners black flesh right behind its fuzzy ears. Pain ripped through his heart again as he watched the creature, half in darkness, fall into its own pain.

Roars were replaced by whines. Whines were quickly swapped for sobs. Sobs evolved into small whimpers and the sound changes stopped there. He regretted that. All the meaning behind those words…The reaction to such a simple sentence was horrifying. This entire situation was horrifying. Now that he thought about it, how did they even end up here? How did this happen? More importantly, why was it happening? This ordeal, would it end when his life did? Would he escape? He didn't know. But he did know that if he got out of this alive, he would be a different man. They would both be different.

"It doesn't matter anymore. She's dead."

The sound of the creature speaking snapped him back into the current situation. It picked itself back up, eyes seeming to glow against the black behind it. She was dead. She had been dead for a very long time. So had he. He had been dead for a long time too. But he was back. She wasn't back. She would never be coming back. Life was so unfair. The creature's life was so unfair. It had a great life. A family to call its own, friends to talk to even though they weren't the same species as it, a place to call home…everything. Then it was ripped heartlessly away from it in one day. Its family was torn, its friends were murdered and its home was over run. Everything from that point on had been hell. The creature had had to struggle for everything. It had walked the path of death and it had walked the path of life. It had done what was wrong and what was right.

"Why didn't she come back? Why did it have to be you!"

Something warm and wet stuck to his cheeks as the creature spat those words. It was not sticky like blood, or as thick. He…he was crying! Those words had struck home. His heart was now just barely hanging on. A single thread was all that held the two pieces together. The creature wielded a sharp knife, ready to cut that thread. Those last words had done it. He couldn't take much more of this. He gave up. If the creature killed him, so be it. He felt terrible and spent, both physically and mentally. He felt like a terrible father. Knees caving in, he sank to the floor.

"I'm so sorry I failed you."

Back against the wall, arms and stomach aching dully, heart near the shattering point, and mind going numb, Gerald Robotnik thought this was the end. He wasn't sure of those words had really been spoken nor was he sure the creature had heard them if they had escaped his mouth. The creature was coming at him in a full run, eyes screaming pain and misery. It raised a clawed hand, the light glinting off of the gold ring around its wrist. It gave a final battle cry. The clawed hand came down. Gerald closed his eyes and waited. Fate was mocking him. How ironic. He had given the creature life. Now it would take his.

…

Slowly Gerald opened his eyes again and looked up. The creature was looming over him, eyes narrowed and hand raised. Yet it did not come down. The creature was black with red stripes running through its six quills, four of those turned up. Blood flowed down its head from behind its furry triangular ears. The hedgehog's eyes were crowned by red and its tan muzzle was stained with tears that kept falling. A white tuft of fur stood out on its muscular chest. Its arms each had a stripe of red and its hands were covered by white gloves, the tips having been shredded by the hedgehog's claws. Each wrist was incased by a golden bracelet. Its legs also had a stripe and its feet were stuffed into metal, white, black, and red hover shoes. A gold band encased both of his ankles.

The hedgehog's eyes slowly widened as if his actions were just now being registered. His raised hand began to shake, as did his body. Gerald spoke softly.

"Shadow…?"

Shadow observed his creator, covered in blood, and fear in his eyes. The Professor feared him. This wasn't right. What was he doing? No, what had he almost done! Shadow let his arm fall to his side. His chest heaved as he fought to keep himself under control. The artificial being's broad frame shook. He had lost it. He had really lost it. He had hurt Gerald. He had hurt his father! With a thump he was on his knees before the old man, palms pressed against the dirty ground. Head hung, he sobbed.

"Chaos, what's wrong with me…"

For a long time neither moved. Creation and creator remained where they were. Gerald kept his back against the wall, his arms crossed and his hands holding his wounds. They still bleed, but it was not enough to end his life. Shadow stayed on his hands and knees before the human, tears and blood splotching the ground. His mind remained fuzzy and everything around him was lost in static. The air seemed to drop another few degrees. Heavy breathing, quiet sobs and thumping hearts droned in the heads of the two tortured souls. Then Gerald moved and the situation flipped.

Shadow was stunned to say the least. The old man wrapped his arms around the black Mobian and pulled him close. He ignored the pain that the simple motion caused him. The side of Shadow's head was now pressed against the old scientist's chest, his heart beat thumping loudly in the back one's ears. Gerald rested the side of his head against the top of his creations. Tears still streamed from their eyes. Shadow didn't fight the embrace, but instead wrapped his own arms around one that belonged to his maker. He nuzzled into the man, that familiar human warmth numbing his hurt heart.

"I…I-I don't know what…..Professor…I…."

"I know Shadow, I know."

"I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be. Everything that's happened so far is my fault. I'm sorry, Shadow."

"Don't leave me again father….."

"No, no. I'm not going anywhere, my son."

Neither remembered how they had gotten into the room. Gerald did not remember how he had come back to life. Shadow did not remember what angered him to the point where he destroyed most of the lights in the room. Gerald did not remember what he had said that provoked Shadow. Shadow did not remember attacking Gerald. They did, however, remember how it had ended.

A/N

A father and his son. Nothing else.

I was thinking of the song Chosen One while writing this.

This was started at around 9 to 9:45 pm and finished at 12:51 pm. That's about four freaking hours. By the time it's uploaded it should be 1:00 in the morning here in CA. It was transferred from a great computer to a crappy laptop and made up by a very tired and partly crazy mind. (Never eat dark chocolate before bed peopl.) I will deny I wrote this later. Now, I'm off to sleep. ZZZZ…