So I've often considered the concept of Shadow's memories being largely or even entirely fabricated, not just clouded by Gerald's meddling. What if, instead of remembering his true promise on the ark, Amy just triggered his subconscious because he is, at heart, good?
TW for referenced suicide
Shadow stares at the tombstone in front of him and feels nothing. Not the wind in his fur, not Rouge's hand rubbing tentative circles into his shoulder, and certainly not the gaping chasm where his heart once lived.
"The coroner ruled it a suicide, and the documents I found in Eggman's lair certainly go a long way towards backing that up," she tells him, and whether she's still talking because she's unaware of his world ending or because she wants to distract from it he can't say.
He reads the headstone again, as if it might reveal a different name if he just looks hard enough.
Maria Robotnik
1939 – 1951
"There was video footage of the autopsy, and after a lot of digging, I found hospital records that indicate a life spent here on Earth."
Shadow remembers Maria's death; It's the only memory he has from before his own brief demise. He remembers it just as well as what he had for breakfast today. And, if Rouge is to be believed, it never happened. The entire reason he nearly decimated all life on Earth might be a lie.
"I need to go," Shadow tells her.
Rouge's hand stops its little circles. "Where?"
"I don't know. Away. I need air."
"But we're standing outside."
Shadow nods, "I know," but he feels stifled. Looking at her grave is like being buried alive, and even though it doesn't make any sense, he can't breathe. "I'll check in with you later."
Alone in the dark of his officially sanctioned quarters, Shadow tries not to think of death. He thinks of smiles, and his friends, and the woman who thanked him with tears in her eyes when he brought her child back from a rampaging robot. Those are the moments that bring him the most joy, because he knows that Maria would be proud.
Except he never knew Maria.
He curls up even tighter. A little girl died, and fifty years later he tried to burn the world for it. A little girl died, and fifty years later he saved the world in her memory.
A little girl died, and the mourning was assigned to a genetic experiment.
Shadow doesn't emerge for days. His communicator rings on and on, but he ignores it. He can't even think about Rouge without being back in that graveyard, let alone talk to her. His commanding officer calls, but the idea of working in the field makes him sick.
When Amy calls during the second week of isolation, Shadow is tempted to answer. Her unwavering belief that he will do the right thing combined with her cheery disposition reminds him so much of Maria that he can't help but be fond of her.
He nearly shatters his communicator at the realization and wonders how he can ever face her again, now that such reminders come with the horrible knowledge that his entire existence is a lie.
And then Omega calls; a fellow machine of destruction that owes life to the Robotnik lineage. Omega won't be able to clear anything up, but his creator might.
"Shadow?" Robotnik asks when he picks up his phone. He sounds surprised, which makes sense. Shadow hasn't called this number in... ever.
"How did Maria die?" Shadow asks. The idea of taking the time for pleasantries makes him physically ill, and he idly wonders if his body is finally failing him after so many years without proper tests to make sure everything is functioning as intended. He can't think of any other reason for the sharp pain roiling in his guts.
There's a hum on the other end, and the sounds of some dastardly machine being assembled by robotic hands. It's strangely comforting, and breathing comes a little easier for the moment. Shadow's entire world may be on the precipice of collapse, but at least some things will never change.
"I don't know," the scientist answers after a lengthy deliberation, "I was very young when it happened."
Shadow swallows. "And the files in your systems?" A loud curse causes him to flinch, his ears briefly flattening as if to reject the noise.
"You little rat! You broke into my lair again!?"
"GUN likes us to keep tabs on you," Shadow answers truthfully. The scientist starts going off on a tirade about boundaries and privacy, but cuts off when Shadow speaks again. "They say she— But, I saw her die. I remember her scream, I—" It's not meant to come out so small.
He's not meant to be shaking so much.
"Why would you keep that from me?"
Shadow is the closest thing Dr. Ivo Robotnik has to a living relative, and vice versa. Though the two will never admit it, they have an understanding; an unspoken agreement that, through thick and thin, they're family. Even when they hate each other, the understanding is there.
The scientist sighs. "I may be evil, but I'm not cruel. What purpose would such knowledge serve, other than to hurt you?"
Shadow makes a noise in the back of his throat, and even he can't tell if it's a laugh or a sob.
"Shadow, you're still you. Your memories may have been falsified by a distraught old man driven mad by his grief, but they don't define who you are now."
"But I hurt so many—" Shadow starts, only to be cut off.
"And you saved more."
There's a minute of silence, tense and thick. Neither of them know what to say next. Robotnik has never been one to offer comfort.
"Why?" Shadow asks when the weight of the question seems ready to suffocate him.
"I told you, because it seemed cruel—"
"No, why did she—" Despite needing to know the answer more than he's ever needed anything, he can't voice it. He doesn't remember anything beyond the gruesome lie he was fed, but along with it is a certainty that Maria was a happy girl, that she would never—
He can't even think it.
"Kids can be cruel. They reject things that are different. From what I read, it sounds like her sickness made her the target of bullying."
"But she was twelve," Shadow protests, as if that changes anything, as if children can't feel that same emptiness that has ebbed and flowed through him since the day Rouge found him sealed inside a pod.
"And that sucks," Robotnik replies, blunt as he often is when it comes to the feelings of others. "It sucks, and it's tragic, and it was nearly sixty years ago. I'm not saying you need to move on, but... don't let this be the thing that destroys you, okay?"
"Sure," he replies before letting the emergency cell he has for when communicators won't work drop from his hands. He can hear Robotnik continuing to speak, but he no longer has the energy to talk so he leaves the phone on the floor until the call is disconnected. It takes longer than expected for the scientist to hang up on him.
Days turn into weeks and eventually Shadow accepts that he has to return to work, which means talking to Rouge and Omega again. They're kind enough not to mention Maria or his recent absence. Or maybe they don't know how. He catches Rouge looking at him with something dangerously close to guilt in her expression more than once.
Six months pass before he sees Sonic and co. again, but an Eggman attack finally forces them together. Shadow is a weapon with false memories built to avenge a little girl he never met. Or maybe Robotnik's data is wrong, maybe he's a medical marvel-turned-superweapon designed to save a sick little girl who got gunned down in front of him.
Either way, he has no business playing the hero.
But GUN wants him to sneak in and take out the central power source, and when Sonic sees him, he insists they team up. Shadow owes the blue nuisance more than he cares to admit, so refusal isn't an option. They take out the Death Egg MKIV with the help of Sonic's friends, and Shadow finds himself the centre of attention and praise. He nearly chokes on their adulation. He is undeserving of the reverence in their eyes.
Sonic claps him on the back. "We couldn't have done it without you, buddy."
Shadow wants to shove his rival away, wants to scream at him until he understands that Shadow is a weapon first and a person second, that he almost destroyed the world on multiple occasions and his actions will never make up for that. Instead he shrugs off the praise and departs in a flash of Chaos.
There is a seed of warmth in his belly. It's fragile and pitiful, but like a dandelion growing in the cracks of the sidewalk, it is determined.
Shadow helps people.
People believe in him.
He is undeserving.
Maria would be so proud of him.
The Maria he knew never existed.
Does that matter?
He lets himself be invited to the celebration held a week after their triumph over the Death Egg. He doesn't smile, but he does raise his glass for every toast.
When Amy talks to him she smiles enough for the both of them, and when his expression wavers she doesn't comment, just reaches out to squeeze his hand.
Sonic also smiles enough for the both of them, as does Tails.
Rouge doesn't smile when she talks to him, instead she grabs him in a fierce hug. He's sure everyone is staring and whispering, but a peek over her shoulder reveals a room full of people distracted by their own interactions. Laughing and celebrating and altogether indifferent to whatever persona Shadow is trying to maintain.
He hugs her back. She is, after all, his closest friend.
When Shadow leaves early, everyone says they hope they see him again soon but they don't pressure him into staying. He never realized that being welcome could be as simple as being allowed to leave, but the seed in his chest grows.
Slowly, Shadow lives again.
Slowly, he realizes that you can be happy without disrespecting the things you've lost. You can grieve without mourning.
It takes three years for Shadow to return to Maria's grave, to the place Rouge had first told him about the girl's fate. A part of him resents her for upending everything he'd ever known. A part of him is forever grateful to her for setting him free with the truth.
Some things are more complicated than a simple this or that.
Maria Robotnik
1939 – 1951
The tombstone still threatens to crush him if he lets it, but his friends are in his heart, holding the weight alongside him so that he can breathe.
He lays a single flower on the long barren stone before him. He feels peace, and he feels guilt for finally finding it.
Perhaps saving the world time and again can be considered his atonement for sins committed in a stranger's name, or perhaps his false memories are the atonement.
He still loves her. He still misses her every day.
He shows his love by letting himself love others.
He isn't alone anymore.
I took inspiration from One Headlight by The Wallflowers.