"Amy?" came a voice from behind her. "I'm sorry, I came as soon as I could." The pink hedgehog in question turned her head to acknowledge the visitor and saw that it was Sonic, hands gripping either side of the doorway as he leaned in. He gave her a sad little half-smile as she inclined her head in his direction, a look of genuine concern on his face. "How are you feeling?" he inquired, as if it was she who was laying there in the hospital bed, tubes overlapping as they went in and out of her body, instead of Shadow.

"I've been better," she admitted.

"I'll bet," he said, and, taking this as an invitation to come inside, crossed the room to be beside her. He pulled up a chair next to her own and sat down, following her gaze back to the onyx-colored hedgehog. "How's he holding up?"

"I don't really know," Amy said, and they both watched him in silence for a moment. Shadow's breath was harsh and irregular, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as beads of sweat poured down his face. Every once in a while a muscle in his arm or leg would twitch and he would spasm violently. The sudden restlessness of his movements seemed to startle Sonic, but Amy was unperturbed. She had grown accustomed to such erratic behavior after spending the past hour with him. It was clear he was in agony.

"I guess we'll get to hear all about it when he wakes up, huh?" Sonic mused, resting his elbows on his knees. He seemed to think he was taking over watch-duty for Amy, who had been keeping constant vigil over his bedside since he had been admitted.

"If he wakes up."

"Amy," Sonic said, and when she turned to face him, he tapped the end of her nose with his index finger. "When he wakes up," he said again, as if him saying it automatically made it the truth. "What did the doctors say?"

"He's got some foreign substance pumping through his veins. Whatever it is, his body is rejecting it."

"What? Like poison? Do you think someone poisoned him?" Amy sighed deeply.

"They don't know yet. They have to run some diagnostics. Whatever it is, it's making him, really, really sick." And then she proceeded to tell him the story of how she had found Shadow a few hours prior. Sonic listened to the whole thing without interrupting, although he seems to grow increasingly more worried as she went on. After she had finished he still didn't say anything, seeming to mull the entire rendition over in his head. Then he said, a little cautiously, "well, I think we can rule out the whole poison thing."

Amy regarded Sonic curiously. "What makes you think that?"

Sonic looked reluctant to continue. Instead of finishing his statement, he picked up a purple dish on Shadow's bedside table, busily examining that instead. "What the heck is this?" he asked, mostly to himself than to Amy.

"That's a bedpan."

Sonic looked stricken. He tossed it away from himself as if it was already contaminated, watching dispassionately as it clattered on the floor. "Well, isn't that just spectacular," he muttered to himself.

"It hasn't even been used yet," Amy snapped, feeling annoyed. "And don't change the subject. What were you going to say?"

"Well... I was just thinking, you'd think if he was poisoned then he'd let you help him. I mean, he would obviously know something was wrong and he needed to go to the hospital."

"Maybe he thought he could handle it himself."

"Maybe." Sonic still looked deeply troubled.

"Well, what do you think it could be?"

It took Sonic a moment to respond. "Maybe he did it to himself," he murmured finally.

Amy was watching him with wide-eyes now, clearly alarmed. "Like an overdose?"

"Maybe. Maybe it was an accident," Sonic said, and he appeared to be choosing his words carefully, as not to startle the other hedgehog. "Or maybe it was on purpose."

"Sonic!"

The blue hero held up his hands in defense. "Look, I'm not sayin' it because that's what I want it to be, Amy. I'm sayin' that might be what it actually is."

"But.. Are you serious? Just.. no way."

"It's just a theory," Sonic admitted. "But we can't really rule anything out at this point, right? We don't know. I'm just speculating." He frowned, stroking his chin. "It just strikes me as weird, that he would be so hostile toward you when you were just trying to help..."

"Well, maybe because he doesn't really know me! He's a loner, Sonic, he's been locked up and having to deal with amnesia so I think maybe it would be a bit understandable that he's mistrustful!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, Amy," Sonic said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "No need to get all excited now." She realized she was standing over him, hands out in front of her, as if he had 

interrupted her in mid-gesture. She was acutely aware of how loud she had been, how the nurses out in the hall must've heard her; as if on cue, there was one in the doorway, hypodermic needle in hand, ready to subdue if necessary. When she saw it was just Amy, however, she murmured something that might have been an apology, or what might have been a warning, before she left again. Amy immediately sat down.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay," Sonic said, and she could tell that he meant it. "I know you're upset. Kinda funny, huh? Earlier I was tryin' to get you to be optimistic. Now I'm the negative one." She started to speak again, but he cut across her. "I told you, this is all hypothetical. I was just wondering." Amy was afraid of what he was telling her, feeling very much like she was about to cry.

"It's okay, Amy," Sonic said again as he draped an arm across her shoulder, pulling her against him in a sideways hug. She nestled into the crook of his armpit and he kept her there, his fingers rubbing in a soothing, circular motion along her arm. "That's why I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to get you all riled up. I knew you wouldn't want to hear it."

"Well, now you've got to finish," Amy said stubbornly, feeling as if she was slightly more in control now.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Sonic took a deep breath. "Well, I was just saying that maybe it's been hard on him recently." He sighed. "The whole Maria thing. I mean, when we first met him he was hell-bent on revenge, remember? He thought that's what she had wanted; he felt that was what he needed to do. It was how he managed. Then he realized what she really wanted from him--that she wanted him to continue on, to help save humanity instead of destroy it. So he found solace in that; he could endure with her memory carrying him." This was an alarmingly complex and morbid thought coming from Sonic, but he seemed to enjoy playing psychiatrist, so she let him carry on.

"But then he fell from orbit, right? Got his head all banged up. Woke up with amnesia. So eventually he has to re-learn everything, to pick up bits and pieces from his past. And then he learns about Maria, and it's like the first time all over again, like it just happened, and - bam - it hurts, right here." With his free hand he tapped himself on the chest, right where his heart was. "Maybe he doesn't know how to cope, this time around. As the old Shadow, he relied so long on hatred and anger to help him deal with his loss, because he had someone to blame. But now, he has to re-live the experience, but he doesn't have that same form of therapy. So maybe he thought self-destruction was his answer."

Amy was simultaneously impressed and disturbed by Sonic's theorizing. She tilted her head up to see that he was looking down upon her, seeing how she'd react.

"I talked to him once, after the whole thing with Metal Madness," Sonic said, seeing her look. "He seemed a little cut up about it."

"He actually said that to you?" she asked incredulously. From what Amy had gathered, Shadow wasn't the talkative type; she found the mere notion of him confiding in anyone - Sonic least of all - a little mind-boggling. "That that's how he felt? He said that?"

"Maybe not in so many words," Sonic shrugged. "But I understood. He loved her, after all."

"But this has been happening for a while now. He's must've known for a few months. What made him decide to do this to himself all of a sudden?"

"Well, we don't really know if that's the case," Sonic reminded her, "But for all intents and purposes, I would say that it's been bothering him for a while; it's probably been slowly building up inside of him and tonight it reached a crescendo and he couldn't take it anymore. Maybe he just snapped." As an afterthought, he mused, "maybe he just now got the nerve."

"Sonic!"

"Sorry, Amy," he said. "Anyway, I hope I'm wrong. But what you've told me really, really bothers me." His eyebrows were furrowed now and he stared off into the distance, eyes focused on nothing as he seemed to internally continue to analyze the situation. Amy returned her focus to Shadow, a new kind of fear clawing at her insides, making her feel queasy. She fidgeted beneath Sonic's half-embrace, suddenly restless and frightened.

"Amy?" Sonic said. "Maybe you should go home and get some sleep."

She gave a brittle laugh and disengaged herself from his arms. "Get real, Sonic," she scoffed. "After all that? There's no way."

"He can't off himself if he's unconscious," Sonic said simply.

"Sonic! That's terrible!"

"Look, I'll play watchdog," he said, waving her off. "Go get some rest. Seriously, no offense, but you look kinda bad. Like you've aged ten years in one night."

"I do not look like a grandma!" she exclaimed, indignant. He was smiling at her, and she knew that he was trying to get a rise out of her on purpose; trying to remove her from the situation, to lighten the mood. It almost half-way worked, but the sterile smell of the hospital room would not let her escape - she was trapped in the moment, suspended here, with an acquaintance who lingered in the delicate balance between life and death.

"Of course not," Sonic continued. "You'd be one of the youngest grandmas I ever saw. Seriously, having grandkids at thirty?" He shook his head in disbelief, that half-simper still playing on his lips, but when he saw that Amy clearly wasn't happy his face fell.

"Sonic," she whispered, "I can't just leave him."

"Amy," Sonic said, and he gathered both of her dainty hands in one of his large, oversized one. "Nothing bad will happen," he said, and their eyes met; in his, there was all the sincerity of the world. It was a heart-stopping moment. "I promise." And she could not help but believe him, because he was Sonic, and he would never hurt her, or betray her trust. He would always be dependable.

"Promise me you'll call me the moment he wakes up."

Sonic made a face. "Duh, Amy."

"Promise me!"

Sonic grinned. "I promise, Amy. Don't get all crazy on me, now."

"Pinky-promise me." She held up her right hand, extending her pinky before her.

"The most sacred of promises." Sonic said sarcastically, although he looked deeply amused. "Alright," he agreed, and he extended his own hand, allowing their pinky-fingers to interlock. "Now get out of here." He made a shooing motion and she nodded, gathering up her things and walking away. She hesitated at the doorway, unable to help lingering, turning around so that she could take one last glance in Shadow's direction.

"Amy!"

"Alright, I'm going!" she said, and he picked up the bedpan and threw it at her; she had to duck and dart away, him laughing at her as she went scurrying into the hall.

She couldn't sleep. She couldn't even close her eyes. Her entire body felt like it was pumped with juice, muscles taut, blood pounding in her ears. She paced the floor of her apartment, the images of his prone form haunting her well into the early hours of the morning. Dawn was fast approaching, she realized some time later, and abandoned any hopes of getting some rest altogether. She sat down in the living room and turned on the TV, idly flipping through the channels. Her mind was buzzing with rampant thoughts, unable to concentrate on anything, so she gave up on trying to distract herself from the present situation as well. She sighed and put her head in her hands, closing her eyes.

I should probably eat something, she thought to herself, some time later. Funny, she had never felt less hungry in her whole life. Still, dinner had been hours ago, and she had not ever gotten around to her midnight snack...

She didn't feel like cooking at home; here in the confinements of her apartment, she felt like she was suffocating. She decided that some cold air would do her good, and she gathered her purse, 

heading out into the world outside as the sun began to crest over the buildings beyond. It was crisp and cool outside, completely cloudless - it was going to be a beautiful day, she thought bitterly, and the perfection of it seemed to mock Shadow's predicament.

Sonic's words seemed to plague her as she walked down the streets of the city. At first, she had dismissed the idea of a suicidal Shadow as sheer insanity; however, the longer she thought about it, the more it seemed plausible. It made her increasingly nervous as time dragged on, and she had to resist the urge to turn and run in the opposite direction, back towards the hospital.

How could anyone want to kill themselves? Amy thought as she entered one of the local diners. She tried to imagine the despair Shadow must feel, tried to replicate that emptiness of impossible magnitude. She couldn't even begin to fathom what it was like, to have fallen that far. Amy had always been happy, bright-eyed, alive with wonder and awe with the world - she couldn't see how anyone would want to rid themselves of it. Her and Shadow were just too unlike, she guessed; she could never possibly understand where he was coming from. And his life had been wrought with tragedy, unspeakable sadness, bearing the weight of the world alone - she had always been privileged, well-bred and surrounded with lots of friends. They came from two different worlds, with two different experiences; Shadow had been given a bad hand in Life, whereas Amy had been gifted with a Full House. The contrast could not have been more startling.

I'm going to help him, she decided feverishly, as she ordered the daily special. I'm going to show him what life really is all about.

The determination brought about some quiet comfort to Amy, and she found the nerve to eat. There was no question as to if she could rehabilitate him when he awoke; there was simply the will to do so, and she knew that she would. Because he needed her.

She had nearly cleared her plate when her cell phone chirped. She rummaged around in her bag until she found it, bubble-gum pink and encrusted with crystals. She flipped it open and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Amy, its Sonic," came the familiar voice of her hero. Her heart skipped a beat. "He's awake."

She was already half-way out the door.