First of all, to the guest reviewer, because I don't want to alienate you for not signing your review: I'm glad the update was delicous and nutritious (at least, I hope you mean the update and not the reheated lasagne, but that's usually delicious too) and hope to hear more from you. Thank you for the review!
And we're back with another instalment of Drama: Sonic Universe Style.
But there is fluff at the end of this one. Shadamy fluff, Shadow style. Hope that's the good stuff.
Beyond that, Tails gets a bit more closure and Rouge needs a nap. Let's get into it!
Having only ever seen Tails in short bursts throughout his life, the gangly adolescent presented to Rouge upon her arrival in Knothole is a minor shock, mostly because six months prior he still looked very much a child. His body had been rounded and fur the downy fluff of childhood, an adorable sight to behold as he flitted between projects with unadulterated enthusiasm.
The kitsune across the table now is disproportionately thin and gangly-limbed, as if stretched by his extremities to force a sudden growth spurt, the pudginess of his childhood frame absorbed into this newfound height. The only reminders of his true fourteen years are evident in his face; bushy whiskers, childishly-filled cheeks and the brightness of youth in his eyes.
Perhaps the surest sign of looming maturity is the patchiness of his previously fluffy pelt. Kit-fur is unevenly shed in favour of a denser, coarse variety that strikingly denotes physical development, and he's starting to develop the smooth, silken finish that defines teen from child.
Most pelts took a single Heat season to grow in, signifying the start of the transition into adulthood, and it seems Tails is thankfully going to avoid a few years of being referred to as 'Patch' at the rate his own is progressing. A blessing, considering the teen was already a biological anomaly with two tails and advanced intelligence.
Any bullies would hardly need more ammo against him, after all.
The peremptory meeting started an hour previously, at sunrise. Rouge made sure to arrive as early as possible knowing the boonies from the woods both woke with the sun and had a habit of being busy all day, unwilling to change their schedules or stay up past dusk. As such, she'd managed to wrangle Tails and the most prominent caregivers in the village to meet her in the town hall.
Unfortunately, very little has been achieved since. Her coffee dried up forty minutes ago but no refills have been offered, not that she's parched; the old farts have barely stopped arguing with one another long enough for Rouge to interject, let alone listen to Tails.
Irritation flows from the fox in waves, and Rouge can't decide if the adults present are intentionally ignoring the tension in the room or are simply too dense to notice. The teen's body language is tight and defensive, features set in a defiant scowl while they speak for him, a leg bouncing in agitation as his assertions are repeatedly disregarded.
Despite his physical changes and innate gifts, his posture betrays his age; he's slumped in his seat with arms folded over his unevenly bushy chest, lower jaw set as he stares past her. He hasn't looked at her directly since the meeting began and seems intent on keeping it that way, icy glare centered over her left shoulder as it bores a hole in the wall.
The similarities between the kid and Shadow in a GUN meeting are so striking, the possibility her former partner is nothing more than an overgrown teenager crosses her mind and she can't quite repress the snort of laughter that follows it.
Thankfully, no one seems to notice. The elders are too busy arguing amongst themselves over whether Amy's actions could be forgiven in the wake of her previous altruistic personality, or if she should still face retribution for carrying out an act she knew to be morally unsound. Neither side of the argument seems to care what Tails thinks, the vulpine seemingly only there to physically represent the injured party.
It had been a late night of paperwork on Jimbo and his cronies, followed by poor sleep in the barracks and an early start to get to Knothole as the sun rose. Her temple is beginning to twinge, begging for painkillers and a nap, and the last of her patience finally abandons her.
"Enough!" Her tone is sharp and commanding as she vaults to her feet and she slaps the table with a bang, wings snapping open in agitation. Seconds go by in blessed silence before she relaxes a little and regards the room with a stern gaze, the familiar warmth of confidence shooting through her veins at their undivided attention.
She sighs in exasperation, wings folding gently once more. "Did anyone bother to ask Tails what he thinks? Or have you been too busy arguing amongst yourselves to ask the kid if he wants to press charges?" Elders share looks with one another before looking to their charge, who's own stare becomes questioning as she looks back to him. She can virtually hear the cogs moving in his head as he evaluates the comment, dissecting her intentions.
"No, we haven't." The response is even and measured, an observation as much as it is the truth, but despite the calmness of her tone Vanilla seems conflicted; her expression is one of concern marked with sympathy whenever she looks to the youngster.
Rouge motions for her to continue when she doesn't immediately. "It was… decided by the senior elders that his opinions may be skewed by their past comradery, as well as Miss Rose's close relationship with his surrogate brother." She glances back at said elders, some of which regard her with disapproval. "These are notions I do not agree with. His emotional intelligence easily outweighs his age, therefore his opinion should carry more weight than ours."
"Objections?" Addressing the room garners no response, so Rouge looks back to Tails. "Floor's all yours, kiddo."
Shunted into the spotlight, his tails bristle uncertainly as they wrap around the backrest in reflexive nervousness, and he melts under the bland and disbelieving gaze of his elders. It's only after catching Vanilla's gaze, receiving an encouraging smile and nod, that he looks back to the albino agent and replies sincerely. "Amy and I are friends. I don't want her to get in trouble."
The GUN agent ignores the murmurs of some elders and gives him a sympathetic smile, hoping he'll sound less like the kid he is as the conversation progresses, and she leans forward on her elbows while addressing him directly. "I get that, but being your friend, or a friend of a friend, shouldn't mean people should get away with doing something illegal." She tilts her head slightly, hating how much she sounds like Towers right now. "You know how serious what Amy did is, right?"
There's a slight hesitation before he nods, fingers flexing and entwining together in discomfort before he puffs out a breath. He presses his palms to his thighs as tails now coil around his shins. "Yeah. Because I didn't really know what we were doing. And I'm underaged. And even if I weren't, I didn't consent."
His lips press into a fine line. The mutterings of dissent cease as his insight becomes clear to those who doubted his maturity. A moment of silence follows before he continues. "It's really bad, right? People go to prison for that stuff in Human cities, don't they?"
"Sometimes." She notes the glimmer of hope in the youngster's face and feels horrible. She's playing his emotions to her advantage, something Towers might try to keep a difficult agent under his control. "If you want to press charges, the case will go to court. As Knothole falls within Human Jurisdiction that'll be the Mobian Independent Claims Court System in Station Square."
Another nods in understanding. So far, so good. "Since the incident happened during the Heat, they'll take it pretty lightly. You'll get offered therapy, while she'll probably get community service at most." Her momentary pause is unintentional, but emphasises the seriousness of the situation as she fights to keeps her tone professional. "They'll want proof, though. Your own testimony, and a witness to confirm Amy was in Knothole. Sonic was the last to see her before the incident, right?"
Rouge's gut twists as his facial expression morphs from curiosity to realisation in slow motion, and the colour drains from the kid's face so fast she's concerned he might pass out as her knowledge of his brother's sexual deviance sinks in rapidly, as well as potential ramifications should such an act come up publicly, thus successfully sealing his cooperation without further convincing.
Tails might not be a personal acquaintance, but she still doesn't like to pull at his heartstrings, especially not those firmly attached to Sonic. The cerulean has helped her out countless times (even disregarding the fortnightly visits to her former partner) and the desecration of his character is the last thing she wishes to transpire.
In addition, none of the hedgehog's friends would knowingly wish to drag his reputation through the mud, but a court of law won't care, dredging up any and all dirty laundry in the pursuit of truth. The massacre of a hero's social standing is nothing in the face of justice, even if it ruins that individual's life in a single afternoon.
The Hero of Mobius would be no different. They'd gladly rip him to shreds for another conviction.
Utilising incriminating information - blackmail, to the common man - is Rouge's forte. Sonic keeps his friends safe through heroics in the same way she'll use her natural talent with people and their secrets to secure the continued freedom and happiness of her own loved ones, may they be her betrothed or her antisocial ex-partner.
Reliance on the kitsune's intelligence seems to have paid off, at least. As the observers of their conversation speak in hushed tones about how to secure the speedster's testimony should Tails wish it, the teenager continues to stare at the GUN agent while he regains his composure, sharp turquoise irises unwavering as his expression acquires a resigned neutrality.
"Yeah, he was." His own tone is low but clear as he holds her stare, the slight twitch of his jaw perhaps the only outward expression of his distaste for her tactics. She feels filthy under that scrutinising gaze. "But I don't want to press charges. As I told Sonic, I don't feel abused; maybe it happened a bit too early, but I'm not upset with Amy, nor do I feel like I need closure. It was a mistake."
His eyes narrow just a smidge and, if she weren't so certain of GUN's firewalls and geek squad, she might even believe his closing statement pertained to one of her own former erroneous actions. "Everyone makes mistakes." His expression softens as he stares unfocused through her. "Even people we don't think are flawed can make mistakes. Its Mobian nature."
Silence falls on the room, an uncomfortable one that sits thickly in the chill hall until Tails stands, the scrape of his chair like shattering glass. All eyes turn to the vulpine as he softly excuses himself to return to his projects, leaving the village elders and surrogate mother figure to their contemplative silence.
Rouge's headache feels worse despite the quiet. This isn't how she envisaged spending her Saturday morning.
oOoOo
Regret is an unfamiliar emotion. Tails hasn't ever done anything he's regretted, most previous life decisions based around simple survival over personal problems. It bubbles in his abdomen and burns in his chest as he stares at the still-broken generator on his desk, the metal casket of bolts and wires silently mocking his intelligence.
The urge to sweep the offending object to the floor rises as emotions begin to boil, tears pricking the corners of his eyes and hands beginning to shake. The world at large around him suddenly feels much more cruel, tainted with the self-absorbed and the malicious.
"If you break it, you might feel better." He tenses at her voice, previously unaware of the sneaky bat, but doesn't look up from his current failed project. "I know Shadow does. In fact I'm pretty sure he breaks things instead of attending therapy. If you want-"
"Why did you bring him up?" The question silences her, the tension rising until he feels forced to continue, looking up to see the female standing just six feet away. His tone drops to one that's dangerously quiet, an intensity he's never utilised before. "I might be upset with Sonic, with his behaviour, but I'd never throw him under a SwatBot's to watch the carnage. You know that."
He expects her to smile, to make a quip to lighten the mood, or do as everyone else does and disregard his feelings as a youngster's emotional intensity. Instead she folds her arms across her chest and leans a shoulder against the nearest storage tower casually, a stark contrast to the seriousness of her features.
She seems to consider him a moment, watching with the focused eyes of a practiced intelligence agent while she carefully chooses her response. The room feels suddenly oppressive, much too small. "Perhaps not intentionally," she states, irises locked with his own. "But you're a bright boy, Tails. I don't need to explain my reasoning to you."
Turquoise eyes float away from hers, feeling intimidated, though he agrees with her statement. Publically involving Sonic was enough to make the kit realise he couldn't let Knothole attempt to get a conviction, because Sonic's pristine morality would be tarnished. The ramifications of that were endless; he'd lose Sally, be banned from Knothole, perhaps be jailed or have to do community service, and everyone who idolised him would be disgusted.
It also made him realise his own fallacy, the main reason he'd been envisaging throwing the broken generator into the lake in frustration. Everyone makes mistakes. He'd spoken those words himself and they're true; no one is infallible. Those with social standing more so, as every action and decision is scrutinised by the public eye.
Moreover, it's the reasoning behind how he forgave Amy easily, especially given the extenuating circumstances. So why is it so hard to forgive Sonic for the same thing?
"Because he's important to you." He allows his eyes to drift back to hers, corneas starting to ache from lack of blinking, and notes the sad smile on her face. "You've spent your whole life in his care. Relied on him. Trusted him. Tried to be like him, the Hero of Mobius, a beacon of hope in the dark shadow of Doctor Robotnik, the saviour of Humans and Mobians alike."
She takes a deep breath and straightens up, keeping her arms folded. "But he's still mortal, not just his title but a living thing like you. With thoughts and feelings and desires, and along with those mortal traits come flaws. They just look a lot worse on someone you look up to."
He's barely said anything, but Tails feels like he's been arguing with the albino bat fiercely. His body aches and he feels emotionally drained, airways restricted and poorly responding to his desire to breathe. His mind is uncomfortably hazy as it focuses on a single question, tails rested limply on the dirt floor. "Then what do I do now?"
Rouge's slow shrug isn't reassuring. "I can't make you forgive him. No one can. That'll come with time. What I can do is tell you to talk to him when he comes back, because he will." She finally closes the distance between them, taking hold of a wiry shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze.
The smile she offers now is kind, a sadness ringing the corners of her eyes. The fact he's almost the exact same height as the bat now is lost on him as she speaks softly. "He knows he's messed up. That's why he got himself punched in the face trying to apologise Amy, and why he told you the truth. It's eating him from the inside out and he's not used to it."
Only once he nods does she return it. With a final squeeze she releases his shoulder and turns to leave. The space between them feels like a cavern as she gets further away, a lifeline pulling out of reach. "Rouge?" The question is tentative and quiet, but she stops and looks back expectantly. "I think… I mean, maybe I…"
"Tails." He stops rambling and wrings his hands, unable to stop the uncertainty flooding from him in her confident presence. "Change is always uncertain. What you need to decide is if the change will help you grow as a person, if it's good for you. If you'll be happy."
Before he can ask for direct advice she's gone, already returning to the village, maybe even to GUN. The silence is unwelcome as he's left with his thoughts and his own dilemma of loyalty; whether to spread his wings and leave Knothole - and recent events - behind, or remain faithful to the only home he's ever known as their technician.
oOoOo
A soft sigh passes Amy's lips as she taps them absently with a highlighter, eyes feeling strained from reading over the 'Contract of Care' her ebony mate had returned with the night before. It's much shorter than Shadow's own - only three sides of paper - and was easy to read and digest.
That's the part that has her worried, though. It seems Towers has learned from the previous masterpiece of unnecessarily intricate language and drafted something so simple, Amy can't help her paranoia that she's missed something. Something obvious. Something potentially problematic, should she sign it regardless.
But what? She's read it four times, the last of which Shadow hung over her shoulder and questioned her annotations. She assumes he thinks he's being helpful, but his closeness and clipped tone have the hairs on the back of her neck rising to attention; without being able to discern something amiss, he's getting impatient.
Exactly as he did with his own contract. No wonder GUN found him so easy to manipulate.
The principles are easy to understand: Signing gives her access to all the medical and dental check-ups, procedures and tests she could desire, including but not limited to pre- and post-natal care for herself and the urchin. There's no limitations on how often she can use the services, nor is she expected to pay a fee, as her partner is an employee and entitled to the benefits.
She looks back to Shadow's employment contract again, skimming through the multitude of clauses attached to the use of medical cover as a direct employee. This part incorporates a string of sub-clauses alongside definitions for new long-term condition admissal, pre-existing condition terms and procedures for medical and psychiatric problems that come about as a direct result of employment.
Most of it is again straightforward; he's worked for GUN in excess of two years through various contracts and agreements, which entitles him to everything mentioned in her own contract plus the potential to add family members or close friends to the policy without having to pay a premium.
Then she spots it, a paragraph of text buried between other sub-clauses regarding the addition of others to an existing employee's cover. Now paranoid she's hunting fool's gold in a river of words, Amy rereads it several times before highlighting it with her orange marker, the action in itself causing Shadow to lean over her shoulder to study the illuminated words with a curious frown.
6.5.22: Unless [dependent/individual] is employed by GUN OR possesses a criminal record, extra paperwork is not necessary; persons can and should be added manually by the agent's CO (Commanding Officer) to mediate paperwork loads on secretarial staff.
Amy silently thanks her years as Sally's second when it came to intercontinental relations in Knothole, grateful for the insight the study of legal documents has given her. Without it, both of them would've signed themselves away to GUN in the last few days without reviewing the terms not being any the wiser until Towers chose to tighten their leashes.
Behind her, Shadow doesn't take the discovery of the passage as calmly judging by the sudden explosive shattering of the mug in his grasp. Despite herself she yelps and leans away with arms raised to cover her face. Warm coffee and large chunks of ceramic fall to the floor, the latter clattering and breaking up further on impact around her mate's feet.
She pivots in her chair, and through her fingers she sees the ebony hedgehog slowly splay his left hand, allowing the last lumps of ceramic to fall to the floor in a slow pitter-patter that peppers the otherwise silent aftermath. A painful looking jagged piece remains wedged in his palm, the glove material slowly going pale pink around it.
He seems detached as he rotates his hand to see the damage. He studies the sight for a number of seconds with a disappointed downturn of the muzzle before raising the other hand to pick out the sharp remnant.
Its then he seems to remember Amy's in the room and freezes, looking past his injured palm and catching her worried gaze. His focus skips between her emotional irises and his hand a few times before he speaks. "I apologise if I have distressed you. That was unintentional."
Hoping she looked more surprised than afraid, Amy utters a nervous laugh. "Do you lose a lot of mugs that way?"
The joke seems to skip over Shadow's head. He tisks and turns his attention back to the carnage, dragging the large shard of bloodied former-mug from flesh with only a mild grimace to muddy his disgruntled expression. "When Towers is involved, yes." She cringes in sympathy for him as he does so, feeling a little nauseous as he studies the chipped ceramic with nonchalance.
Concern swells in her chest. As one of the Resistance's first responder field medics, she has a fair understanding of injury and treatment of lacerations. Based on the amount of blood on the shard he'll need better treatment than she can offer with a sewing kit. "Is that… do we need to go to the hospital?" He looks to her with a curious tilt of the head. "I can mend your glove, but I… that looks too deep for cotton and thread…"
Crimson irises blink blankly. She's honestly worried he's becoming anaemic from blood loss until he looks down and carefully removes the glove one finger at a time, pulling it off in its entirety a moment later.
She doesn't really want to take it, but feels required to due to her poor wording. Shadow is known to take things quite literally, so offering to mend his glove immediately after its damaged was a poor choice of words, it seems. She swallows her misgivings and raises her hand to accept the stained material without fuss, but is surprised to have a warm hand placed there palm-upwards instead. So much so that she looks down before remembering it'd just been cut open.
As an elite branch of GUN, Team Dark would come into contact with Resistance operations on the rare occasions the Commander became overly concerned with Eggman's plots. Their cooperation was even less frequent, but had occurred enough for Amy to be familiar with the team's capabilities, healing and endurance included. Shadow scored highly in both categories, matching or barely surpassing Sonic, but he was still Mobian. His skin would yield, his blood flowed red and deep incisions still needed stitches.
As expected, fresh blood clumps the dark, short fur of his palm together, giving it a burgundy hue when she tilts it into the light. There's no injury, though. She frowns, holds the hand in both her own by the thumb and pinkie and tilts it into the light some more, but his skin is smooth and unmarred. The thin layer of iron-scented fluid is the only indication he was ever hurt.
"My abilities are evolving." His voice is a whisper, so quiet she almost misses it. She looks back up from his palm as he speaks in a thoughtful monotone. "My connection with the Chaos Fabric seems to be getting stronger, increasing the potency of some abilities without requiring an emerald. Healing efficiency seems to be one of those."'
Surprise is the first emotion to come, as the revelation isn't expected, but her frown soon deepens at the concerning tone. She'd assumed he still carried an emerald on his person, that perhaps that could account for the fast healing, but reflection on that possibility does seem unlikely with Towers managing his every move.
Her nausea returns, but for different reasons as her stomach feels like its plummeted to her knees. Changes in his abilities would make him seem more dangerous to GUN. If he's beginning to heal that rapidly while all four inhibitors are still in place, there's no telling which other abilities he possesses might also get stronger.
"Does Towers know?" The ebony nods subtly and looks back down to his palm in contemplative silence, though Amy doesn't take her eyes from his face. The certainty of his usually guarded features has cracked and it has her immensely worried for his wellbeing. "Then I don't want you going back there."
When he doesn't look back to her, she gently guides his jaw up to hold his gaze. He looks unsettled, eyes wavering with the same uncertainty they'd glistened with after Marking her. She tries to speak in a reassuring tone that ends up laced with concern. "You saw how much we had to cut out of your contract, and we just figured out this one isn't legitimate. Chaos knows what was planned for it, but something is very wrong here, Shadow."
His next expression is just as unsettling; a skewed frown comprised of concern and painful memories. The desire to ask about it burns through Amy's heart, but she forces it away. If contented silence wasn't the right time to push, now would be even worse.
Instead, she sucks in a breath to help manage her own bubbling emotions and continues her plea. "We can leave and head for the Acorn Kingdom, be halfway there before anyone realizes we're not coming back and gun it across the border. Sally will help us, We'll be safe."
She knows there's no guarantee Sally would agree to house Shadow but she's grasping at straws in desperation. Sonic would push his intended to to do so out of loyalty, and Amy would be given sanctuary without a second thought due to their history. However, the ebony hedgehog has never formally met the princess, only seen her in passing while on missions beside Knothole.
As far as the Acorn royalty was concerned before the rise of Infinite, Shadow was a dangerous free radical the humans liked to abuse, and given his continued association with GUN it's doubtful her opinion has changed.
Suddenly drawn into an embrace, she's shocked into silence by the abruptness and seemingly uncharacteristic action. The depth of emotion communicated through his response far exceeds what she expects of one usually so withdrawn, and the tight hold around her head and shoulders is as disorientating as it is comforting.
Once her bearings return she reciprocates, both arms wrapping around his waist and drawing him closer still. She closes her eyes and breathes in the intense musky male scent of her mate, burying her cheek in the fluffy white fluff of his chest, grateful for his presence yet fearful for their future in the same instant.
"I've already signed the contract." The statement rumbles through his chest in one ear, passing into the other more naturally to create a peculiar surround-sound effect. "If I fail to attend work, he may use that as a premise for containment when I'm located." He pulls away slightly does she shift to gaze up at him as he continues. "Possibly your containment, by extension, and I won't allow it."
His hand comes to her cheek now to graze the fur there tenderly, his expression surprisingly flat yet still animate as another emotion takes the sternness from his frown. Fear? Nervousness? She can't quite tell, but both are unsettling to consider on the stoic hedgehog.
She tries to disregard it as a mistake, which comes easier when his gloved hand runs through her head quills and distracts her, but her own worries prevail. He knows as well as she does he can't run to New Metropolis with her. "I'll be safe there," she reassures him, not needing him to clarify what they both already know. "My identity papers are Mobian. I can claim persecution, apply for sanctuary. Sonic won't let them kick me out."
An idea hits her as he nods in agreement. "You can ask for asylum." Whatever the emotion is fades into a softer one more akin to apology, one she ignores. "There's Mobians from Human territories in the Acorn Kingdom, with Human papers, granted asylum for their species. It's a longer process, and takes a lot of paperwork, but if we can prove-"
Tan lips cut her off as he leans close, tender skin swallowing her words before they leave her throat. It's a dirty trick given the Heat, but effective. The fuschia hedgehog is too flustered after the brief connection to fill the ensuing silence. Crimson irises hold tearful emeralds for a moment before he presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and sighing a deep, perhaps regretful sigh.
"I may apply for asylum at a later date, but my priorities are you and our baby." The mention of the urchin developing within her stirs her already unsettled emotions, tears falling from her eyes as she closes them, pushing back against his forehead with her own in silent understanding. "I can't promise to accompany you. I don't make promises I cannot keep."
He draws back slightly, frowns at the teartracks in her fur and brings a hand up to wipe at the dampness bordering her eyes with his thumb. "But I do promise to see you safely across the Mobian border, should your lives be at risk. I give you my word."
After a minute she swallows hard and nods, her smile wavering and emotional as she draws him back into a hug. "I don't doubt you will... but we'll need an escape plan for if everything goes horribly wrong, because you're my priority, Shadow. I'm not running off to beg Sonic to save me again. I'm staying right here to support you, whether you like it or not. Understand?"
A light chuckle vibrates through him in response. He holds her tightly and nuzzles her head in affection, a gentle hand combing through her head quills. "I suppose I do, my Rose, I suppose I do."