((AN: No content warnings for this chapter. Question: when I have had content warnings before a given chapter, have they been helpful? As in, are they effective, or just annoying and taking up space? Please let me know. Thanks.))

Once they went to the hospital, everything moved so quickly. Moments after entering, Silver and Amy took two tired residents, fresh off of thirty six hour shifts, who were could barely stay upright from the exhaustion. After some time and a quick rest, they walked with them through the hospital, realizing they could unlock so much information from simple observation. Some bodies were in the library, but there was only so much that could be learned from books; the key, they realized, was finding bodies with the right kind of knowledge to begin with so they could "remember" the most information. And sure enough, it worked.

They "remembered" the structure of the veins weaving themselves through the human body, lighting the reaches of each limb with pain when touched, from illustrations on the walls.

They "remembered" where bone met bone, how joints connected the pieces together, and how easily it could all fall apart if not treated correctly.

The "remembered" about Band-Aids, splints, gurneys, ambulances, and heart rate monitors, and they remembered broken bones, infections, pneumonia, cancers, and death.

All together, it horrified them.

These bodies that they had worn like armor were durable, but ultimately breakable. They could heal, but not always, and not fully. For seemingly no reason, they could crumble after the smallest of cuts, the most specific of blows. They had thought that as long as they slept and ate and breathed, they could keep moving, keep spreading The Purpose, keep feeling happy. The truth was, though, that there was a finite amount they could do; without strong care in places like hospitals, their vessels would only fall apart. Be rendered useless. Disintegrate.

When they "remembered" I.V.s, vaccinations, and blood transfusions, though, it almost made it better.

As it turned out, so long as the black was kept in warm fluid, it could stay active - not as long as when it was in a body, mind, but certainly longer than when clinging to a robotic shell. Crutches, magnets, and more were converted into more material, and the motion of their bodies encouraged growth and multiplication. When the material had expanded enough to be ready to be put in more hosts, the black was put in syringes, drips, and bags of warmed blood to be ready for transfer. Preparing the fluids had been difficult at first - there wasn't a documented way to do it, and the motions of it felt foreign in their stiff, uncooperative fingers - but they had devised a solid method before too long.

The first few who they attempted to stick with the black panicked, yelling about how they couldn't have "that grey stuff" inside of them. The residents tried to calm them down, but they only accepted so much as the "will of the doctors." When nurses came in to check on the patients, though they held them down and took them too – and as it turned out, patients were less concerned about taking "the medication" when they saw it come from a nurse. It all moved quickly once they realized who could instigate the change and who couldn't; the nurses armed their workstations on wheels with vials of the black matter and went from room to room, operating under the guise of checkup and administering pain medication, their smiles confused for individual concern for the patient. The former patients, who weren't trusted as much by the non-converted to give them the black, were set up in the nurses' stations with buckets to gather more material. The operation was incredibly efficient - there was no need for phones, comms, or radios when they could know where all the others were through their eyes. The former patients didn't even have to say anything when another batch was ready - a nurse would simply walk over, timing it perfectly from when it was ready to when it was passed on to someone else.

There were so many beds to sleep on there, and so many bodies to spread their joy to. How much could they learn? How much could they expand? The possibilities seemed limited only by the fragility of the bodies themselves, and as they unlocked more knowledge of medicine, the more they became convinced that illness, pain, maybe even death could be eradicated. It was the best thing for The Purpose, after all, to have its vessels continue indefinitely; so many of the barriers to taking care of the body, like bills and fear, were vanquished in the face of what the world needed to be. The doctors stayed, enabling their shrouded memories and using their experience to help the people inside. The patients that were well enough went to the phones and began calling numbers from the scheduling system, sending emails, trying to bring as many people in as possible. Only a few computers could be used - nobody could remember the login, but some of the schedulers helpfully put papers by their computer with their usernames and passwords - but it was enough to create a newer, larger hub.

Their joy grew. It multiplied. It thrived.

Amy and Silver returned to The Nest, not being the best bodies to have there, but the hub of activity continued to move. From the outside, things would seem to be exactly the same. Doctors and nurses cared for their patients. The sick became less sick. The broken kept healing. If anything, it became more efficient than before, as people moved in and out more quickly. It was only if a person took too close a look at what was going on that they'd notice three crucial differences.

The first, that the doctors and nurses moved slowly, stiffly, and seemed to pause for a while before making any kind of decision.

Second, that each of the people inside had the same facial expression; eyes half lidded, calm, with an occasional smile and shiver.

And lastly, that neither the doctors nor the patients talked to each other. Not one word. In fact, once a person got past the front desk staff, each doctor's office seemed eerily quiet.

As it turns out, Scourge was a felon, violating his parole. Sonic didn't know the specifics of it - Shadow had called in to headquarters, they gave him the info, and they told them to bring him in - but according to his superiors, Shadow couldn't ignore it if he wanted to keep a job. Much as the both of them would have liked to leave Scourge behind as a disgusting memory of what happened in Casinopolis, instead Scourge got restrained and put in the back of the borrowed police car. It almost felt good to see him with his legs and arms tied together, hog tied, but it practically guaranteed that what was already going to be a long car ride would become that much more awkward.

Great.

At least he got gagged, too, so he could shut up for once.

The drive was going to be long - nine hours, to be exact - and going down most of the coastline. If things were any less awkward, Sonic might have used this opportunity to spend some more quality time with Shadow, and give him the highlights of the beautiful seascapes they were sure to pass. He'd been everywhere up and down this land by the sea; he knew where the best food was, where the most fun theme parks were, where the best views were. He wasn't sure how much Shadow would enjoy any of it, but he wanted to show him his world and all the joys he had in it before they went their separate ways again. Before breaking his leg, their roles had seemed almost reversed from what they were now; Sonic explored and travelled, and Shadow stayed behind - and the way Sonic saw it, that was no way to live.

Maybe that was why Shadow seemed so frustrated all the time, he thought. He spent all his time fighting for a world he never saw, bound by a promise to someone who would never see if he fulfilled it or not. If Sonic could take him to a festival, introduced him to some of the people his actions helped save, maybe even get him to see some of the mountains and valleys he liked to take to running through, maybe Shadow could see what kind of a place this was…why it was worth fighting for. His mind raced with possibilities - the towering peaks to the west, the shimmering caves beneath the northern lights, the canyons that cut their way through the center of the country with layered stone. He thought back to Shadow's comment about the stars, and how he could never be tired of looking at them because they were never the same twice. Each of these places felt the same way to him - they held a timeless endurance no matter how often they went. And if Sonic showed these places to Shadow, maybe the dark hedgehog would see that even down on this rock, there was something beautiful. Something they could share. Something they could keep returning to, something that was both exciting and constant in their lives.

Now, though, there was no time. Shadow had to go back to base, and Sonic had to go back to… what, exactly? The way things were? Running at high speeds, completely alone, and making his way up to his old condition so he could single handedly save the day again?

Why did that leave such a sour taste in his mouth? He should have been happy about it, but he wasn't.

"It's a journal," Shadow said, interrupting the silence. Sonic whipped his head around to look at him, but Shadow held exactly the same position as he had before.

"What?"

"Rouge told me you didn't understand what the book was. It's a journal. I would have thought that would be obvious."

Sonic grabbed his bag and pulled out the book, taking a look at it. "It feels like a nice book, though. I think of journals as, like, those pink books that Cream scribbles in. The paperback ones with pictures of flowers and stuff all over them. Not something leather bound and heavy like this."

"If I disappoint, I apologize," Shadow said, his tone clearly conveying that he didn't. "I don't do pink."

Sonic almost laughed. "I see," he said. "Well. There's that mystery solved. Thanks, buddy!"

Shadow pressed his lips together. "I'm not your buddy," he said. It wasn't angry like it might have been even a week ago - no, it didn't betray any emotion at all. Somehow, that was almost worse. "That's why you came to GUN, yes? You were being impulsive, but too proud to simply ask me such a simple question, and you followed me around hoping to find a time it would come up more naturally? Now you know. Now you can go home."

Sonic swallowed and clutched the book to his chest, trying not to look at Shadow. It was weird - he got his answer, the reason he went after Shadow in the first place. He should have felt a since of finality. Instead, he felt more hollow then before. There was something else going on…something he couldn't quite place. Boredom from being in the house for so long? But he had plenty of friends he could have called, ones arguably more gregarious and happier to be around than Shadow was. Wanting Shadow's company? But that surely wasn't so urgent by itself. Shadow would have come back around soon enough, after the mission was over.

There was some other question, Sonic realized. One he needed to answer, as soon as possible. One about himself and Shadow. One he couldn't form into words. One he didn't even expect Shadow to have the answer to, but Sonic hoped to figure out by being around him. That bewildering, unnamed question, nagging at the back of his mind, making his heart race and his hands shake.

What was it?

"Are we not going to talk about what happened back there?" Sonic found himself saying, surprised even at himself for the outburst. He put the book down, and focused on the road.

Shadow cocked an eye ridge. "What do you mean?"

"You know," Sonic said, gesturing with his thumb to the backseat, "with him. In Casinopolis. Are we not going to talk about it?"

Shadow didn't respond for a moment, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. "You distracted him while we apprehended the Doctor, and you fought him long enough for me to take him out. Now he's going in for violating his parole, and neither of us have to think about him anymore. What is there to talk about?"

Sonic took a deep breath. "You know that isn't what I mean, Shadow. Are we not going to talk about the fact that–"

"I don't care that you had sex with him, if that's what you're wondering. What you did however many years ago is your business, not mine."

"But that's not–"

"If he's the kind of guy you wanted to spend your time around, it isn't my place to comment on it. I was surprised at first, I admit, but that was it."

"You're not letting me–"

"I'm telling you I don't care, Sonic. The only one making this a big deal is you."

Sonic slammed his hand on the dashboard, eyes blazing. "Damn it, Shadow, listen to me!"

Shadow shut up. For a moment - just one moment - he took his eyes off the road ahead, and looked at Sonic, taken aback. His mouth was agape, as though he wanted to reply, but couldn't. It hung there for about a quarter mile of road, even trucks speeding by the rapidly slowing car. Finally, after a few seconds, Shadow closed his mouth and brought the car back up to speed. "I haven't heard you say 'damn' in years," he finally said quietly, almost meekly.

"I needed to tell you that who I was back then - the kind of guy I was, who I hung around with, what I did behind closed doors - he isn't the person that I wanted to be. I cleaned up my act. I stopped going to Casinopolis. I never sought Scourge out. I didn't drink anymore." Sonic's phone began to buzz, but he ignored it, not letting his eyes waver from Shadow. It felt strange to him - normally his focus was flitting from one thing to the next, a habit he picked up from trying to prepare for fights by taking stock of his whole environment. The weight of that single minded stare, though, came down on both him and Shadow.

"Sonic, you don't have to do this."

"I'm not going to pretend like I was never that person, because I was. And in a lot of ways, I still am. I get bored easily. I do what it takes to find the next big adventure. I take chances, even if they could go really wrong. But you need to know that everything that happened with Scourge - it's been over for a really long time, and it wasn't a big deal to begin with. And it's really important to me that you listen when I tell you that, because–"

Thudding sounds came from the back of the car as Scourge banged his head against it. It got louder and louder, and Sonic had half a mind to yell at Scourge to cut it out, only for Shadow's words to interrupt him before he could start–

"You're gay."

The thudding sounds stopped, and Sonic could have sworn he heard Scourge laugh through his gag. Sonic's face went beet red, and as he looked at Shadow, he felt embarrassed and worn out. He couldn't hold on to that kind of gravitas for long, not without a price. "Well, not exactly."

"You had sex with a guy. Sounds like you're gay to me."

Sonic winced. The words had no emotional affect at all - he genuinely couldn't tell how Shadow felt about his…escapades. "It's not that simple. There are guys I've liked, there are girls I've liked… I guess bisexual is the word?"

"Bisexual."

"If I have to pick a name for it." Sonic interlocked his fingers, his focus directly on the ground.

"Huh. I didn't know that was something you can be."

"Well it is! What do you mean, you didn't know?"

Shadow paused, that strange look back on his face again. That look of puzzle solving. "The concept of sexuality never came up on the ARK. People that were up there tended to be solely focused on their work, military or experimental. There was no time for romance or anything of that ilk."

"Not at all? Where did you think Maria came from, then?"

"I was born from a tube. I had assumed she was as well." Sonic snorted, but calmed down after Shadow shot him a side-eye glare. "And who would tell me otherwise, Sonic? The scientists out there thought of me as a lab rat, and the soldiers thought of me as a weapon. Who would want talk to me about where children come from when there's only once child up there? And outside of that, there was no reason for me to know. Love, friendship. It was never something anyone intended for me."

Sonic's blush went deeper. Oh.

This was awkward.

This was so awkward.

This was so, so awkward.

He'd never had to 'come out' like this before – it had never been relevant to anybody, so why would he? It wasn't like he had been in any romantic relationships. And as much as he told himself now that it still shouldn't matter, that he was the same person as before this, he couldn't help but wonder if Shadow felt the same way. But what made it worse was that Sonic never realized what kind of disadvantage Shadow was at. Of course he didn't have that kind of terminology, he realized. And what was worse, those GUN scientists and military guys… those jerks… they had expected Shadow to just be alone for his whole life, not having any meaning outside of the warped sense of self they wanted to give him.

What a horrible way to live.

"I'm sorry."

Shadow glanced his way. "For what?"

"You deserve to have that kind of relationship. You know, if that's something you want. I don't care if it wasn't 'intended' for you - they should have told you about things like that, and they were wrong for not doing it."

Shadow tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. Shadow, any guy, girl, whoever you're into I guess – any person would be lucky to have you. You're brave, you're smart, you're a good person, and even if you don't believe it right now, you deserve to have good things in your life. And I really hope you find them!"

Shadow didn't respond. Sonic immediately felt embarrassed, though he tried to hide it - he didn't know why he just went off like that. It was all true, he knew, but why it all came flooding out of him… he was brash, but didn't know where that in particular came from.

Shadow seemed not to know either. He looked back to the road, his face wearing some emotion Sonic couldn't place. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, you didn't. It's not your fault."

"I only thought…it must be good."

"What? Being taken advantage of that guy?"

"No! That's deplorable. And if I have my way, he'll pay for it–" he said, greeted by muffled sounds coming from the back. Shadow banged on the cage in the back with a fist, not taking his eyes off the road for a moment. "Shut up back there! You know what you did!"

The sounds stopped, with only the sound of a thump coming from the back. He was laying down again, Sonic saw, and trying to brush away some stray quills by quickly turning his head. He almost felt bad for him - they were alike in so many ways, and Sonic couldn't even conceptualize how frustrated he'd be if he was forced to keep still for so long - but he kept his mouth shut.

"I mean," Shadow continued, "that it must be good to know what you are. To have a word for it. I remember falling from space and making my way around this planet without any kind of context for the things I was seeing. The things I had never been exposed to before. And when I found it, it came entirely too late. You were just a confused kid, but you could act on what you wanted to do. It must have been nice."

Sonic didn't know how to respond to that. It was true, being with Scourge was a mistake - not one that he would have ever wanted to repeat - but he had the freedom to make that choice. Shadow never had that. He had grown up - or maybe the better term was 'germinated' - on a government base, with a strictly regimented schedule and direction from which he couldn't waver at all. Was it any wonder that the second Shadow had gotten some freedom, he tried to use it to rebel against the very system that essentially held him and his close ones captive, the system that kept so many things away from him? How different would Shadow have been if he could have had more say in his own life? It was terrible to think about, and though Shadow would absolutely loathe the idea of Sonic pitying him, that was exactly what he was doing. Maybe he could find out what gaps there still were. He had no doubt Rouge filled him in on a lot of things, but the idea of that cross-globe trip seemed all the more appealing. In fact, he kind of liked the idea of playing teacher.

Still, one stray, conspiratorial thought lingered in his head. If that was the case, how did Shadow even know about things like being gay? He grimaced, and chastised himself. So not the time, me. Don't get your hopes up.

Hopes of what?

Like a lighting strike, it hit him. The question. The one that really needed answering.

Do I want to be with Shadow?

A buzzing came from his bag, making Sonic jump in his seat and distracting him from his epiphany of sorts. His phone? That's right, he had been out and about most of the early afternoon, and didn't take it with him…and come to think of it, he hadn't answered it earlier either. He grabbed his bag and, moving around the book, and pulled the phone out of the bag. When the screen lit up, he groaned. There were three messages for him - hopefully nothing urgent, but enough to check on it. He held up a finger in a 'just one second' gesture as his opposite hand typed in his passcode and brought it up to his ear. The automated voicemail system let him through, and he tuned it all out until he heard a real person's voice.

"Sonic, it's Blaze. You have to get to Empire City right away. Something's wrong with Amy and Silver. They've got this…thing. I don't know how to describe it, it's–"

Beep. Second message.

"Hi Sonic, this is Doctor Juarez from Empire City Orthopedics. You missed your appointment for cast removal, but that's fine - I'm sure you're a very busy guy. Please swing by the office at your earliest convenience, and I'll squeeze you in. I'm sure you'll be glad to get that thing off, and I'll talk to you about rehabilitation after we're done. My number is eight–"

Beep. Third message.

"It's Blaze again. Nothing is wrong with Silver and Amy. I am sorry for lying to you. You should still go to Empire City as soon as possible. Bring as many people as you can. It is very important. I have something I need to show you."

Beep. End of new messages.

"Huh. That's weird," Sonic said to himself.

"What's weird?" Shadow asked.

"Three calls in a row, telling me to go to Empire City. Two of them were from Blaze."

"Blaze? I didn't think she had a phone."

"She does, she just doesn't use it very often." Sonic looked in the back, then scratched where his cast met the rest of his leg. "You know, Empire City is on the way back - can we just stop long enough to get this thing off? It itches like you wouldn't believe, and the doctor who's been helping me is there. Maybe we can even swing by Blaze's place and figure out what's going on there."

"And you think the Doctor and Scourge won't escape?"

"Rouge has got the Doctor, doesn't she? I'm sure she can handle taking him in, especially with those tranquilizers. And Scourge is pretty contained back there. GUN can wait to take him in, I'm sure."

"They don't like to be kept waiting, Sonic."

"And since when did you concern yourself with what other people think?"

With that, Shadow's sported a smile. It was faint - if you didn't know to look for it, you wouldn't even know it was there - but Sonic could find it. Shadow adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "Fine, then. To Empire City. But only a quick stop."

Sonic kicked back and grinned, feeling the sunlight on his chest. "We'll be out of there before you know it," he said, putting his bag back on the ground. He'd cleared some of the air, his cast was about to come off, and he bought some more time before dealing with GUN. For now, at least, things were finally looking up.

((AN: Yeah, I know. I'm not quite staying with either game canon or comic canon…or any other canon. Maybe it's games plus some of the comic characters? Something like that. It's fan fiction. Don't think too hard about it. This is supposed to be fun.))