A/N: Okey-dokey then. Let's move to—

Sword: The fourth chapter! Yay! We're more than halfway there!

Pen: Oh joy. We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't promised this.

Sword: Get in the Christmas spirit, Pen! Sonic and all related character and material belong to Sega. The story, Pen, and me belong to the author!

Pen: Humbug and may you all roast in your pudding.

Sword: See? You're getting into it, Scrooge! Please enjoy!

Chapter 4- Bonds of Sorrow

The few books Amy had in her room were of no help. A day planner, address book, journal— which Sonic peeked at a few of the entries and smiled as she described the "thrilling experience of being rescued by her handsome hero" on one page. Yet there was nothing else.

Sonic opened the bedroom door as silently as possible. He checked the hall, turning his head from side to side. The toilet flushed from the restroom down the hall and he pulled back into the darkness, waiting. Tails left and traipsed downstairs. Then Sonic dashed to the room on his left.

He flattened his back to the room's wall and looked around. It appeared to be a guest bedroom. Peering out from his hiding spot, the room across was the same. Sonic checked the hall, then sped across to the last room on the opposite side that faced the restroom. It was a storage room and lounge, with boxes piled to one side and a couple of chairs on the other. Sonic closed the door and began rummaging through the boxes.

After searching through several, he finally found one stacked with books. Books of all kinds were piled in there, from mysteries to a small, but unsurprising collection of romantic novels about women partaking in adventures with shirtless men on the front covers. "Travel books, world culture," Sonic mused to himself as he tossed aside book after book. "Yes! Crochet!" He held the treasure aloft and suddenly felt a sense of embarrassment for becoming excited over a book on this subject.

Cracking it open, he flipped through the pages until he found a section on clothes. He dumped his materials on the floor. "Okay then," he said, picking up his needle and yarn. "Hope this works."

"This one's from Cream to Tails," Amy said, passing the present to its recipient. The little boy tore into the package and pulled out an odd device. It seemed to be a mixture of a wrench and screwdriver, with several buttons attached to it. "Wow! The Hexatech 900! Thanks!"

"You're welcome," Cream said. She blushed furiously when he planted a kiss on her cheek. Then he appeared to realize what he was doing and scratched his head. Amy and Rouge cooed over them and Silver chuckled.

Shadow sat on the end of the sofa, his chin in his hands. Every other of his presents except one were under the Christmas tree. His gift to Rouge was hidden behind his back, squashed against the sofa. There was no chance he would be able to give it to her in front of everyone without acting like it was nothing special. So he waited and hoped for a lull to drag her away from the rest of the group. Otherwise, it would be pretty suspicious when all the presents were opened and she hadn't received anything from him.

"I wonder where Sonic is," Amy said, shoving around the other gifts. She picked up one addressed to her from Rouge.

"He was wrapping presents when we left," Tails said. "He should be here soon."

She nodded, but Shadow caught her slight frown. She had waited as long as possible for Sonic to arrive before opening presents. However, Amy had eventually given in, not wanting to inconvenience anyone because of his tardiness. He better get here soon, Shadow thought.

"I need to go check on the food," Amy said. "No kissing until I get back." She winked at Cream and Tails, who hid their faces in their hands.

The others began to chat with one another and Shadow sensed a perfect opportunity to give Rouge her gift. He coughed into his hand, gaining her attention. He jerked his head to the side and they walked out to the front porch together. "We'll be right back," Rouge said. They bundled in their warm garments and shut the door.

The temperature had dropped immensely and Shadow buried his hands in his jacket's pockets, bracing himself against the cold. He looked up at the starry sky above. They twinkled, like Rouge's eyes when she was happy. At the moment, she was staring at him, her arms crossed and her teeth chattering.

"Let's make this quick and not freeze to death," she said, blowing puffs of smoky air with every word. "What did you want?"

Here we go. I can do this. He took the present out and handed it to her. "For you."

She opened the box and a joyful smile overtook her face, her eyes lighting up. Although it could have been the reflection of the bracelet as she took it out and marveled over it. When she finally ripped her gaze from it, she said, "Thanks. It's beautiful."

"I thought you'd like it," he said, trying to act aloof, casual. "Does it fit?"

"Like a glove," she said, slipping it on. "And here's your present." She produced a flat package and handed it over.

"Oh." He nodded and ripped off the paper, but nearly dropped the present when he saw what it was.

Very carefully, he traced his gloved hand across the portrait in his hands. In a wooden frame were two pictures, a black and white one on the top and a recent colored one on the bottom. The bottom was of Rouge and him, walking downtown while she snapped a photograph of them. His arm was around her waist, which had been at her insistence. The top displayed Shadow held in Maria's arms and Gerald Robotnik standing beside her, his proud chest thrust forward and a hand on her shoulder. It was shortly after Shadow had been created, a picture taken to "mark this momentous day," as Gerald had put it.

Every fiber of Shadow's being shook and he didn't know what to say or do. Maria's long-past-gone eyes stared at him, daring Shadow to continue with his original plan.

"You know," Rouge said, crossing her arms and smirking, "you're supposed to say 'Thank you'. It was pretty hard to find a past photo to make this 'show where you've been, where you are, capture your life' sort of thing." But as he stood there silent, she dropped her hands and cocked an eyebrow. "Shadow?"

Over and over, he opened his mouth, trying to expel some word out. He constantly failed and gripped the frame harder. His vision narrowed and he was held captive by Maria.

Until now, he thought he could go through with everything. He could've avoided thinking or talking about Maria and spill himself to Rouge with no trouble. Sure, the repercussions would be serious later when the torture of his mind overwhelmed him, but he would've had a happy time for a little while. Just a little while.

Crack! The glass on the frame splintered and Shadow ground his teeth. A little while. That's all I wanted. Just a short time!

All his pleas were for naught. Maria continued to watch him, guilting him for even thinking of moving on. His mind conjured up the immense agony and he fell to one knee.

"Shadow!"

Shadow snapped out of it and he looked up. Rouge was bending over, a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at the photograph. With Rouge standing over him, Maria's face adapted a tone of neutrality, of complete innocence.

"I…" he tried to explain, but couldn't. He wiped his hand down his face. He thought he had overcome experiences like that, beaten them and entered the next stage of grief and guilt. Shadow had controlled himself better in recent years.

Every now and then, one cropped up like now. And like every instance when it happened, Rouge asked, "Maria?"

With the slightest movement, he bobbed his head up and down. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Rouge said. "I didn't mean—"

"There's nothing to be sorry about." He stood, brushing the snow off his knee. "It's not your fault."

He offered her a small smile, but she jutted her lip and her face darkened. "Shadow, you can't keep doing this. You have to confront this instead of suppressing it."

"And what would you have me do?" he asked. He had tried confronting his memories to no avail. "Nothing else works. I can at least deal with the temporary bouts."

"Look, you shouldn't have to. There's nothing for you to be sorry for either."

"Like you would know. You weren't there." He turned over the portrait in his hands so he didn't have to look at Maria. "You didn't see her die. Sacrifice herself for me."

"Maybe if you talked to me about it—" Rouge started.

"You don't need to get involved," he said, cutting her off.

However, Rouge was not one to take no for an answer and he knew it. "Yes, I do! When it affects you like this, I'm already involved!" She snarled and stuck her face in his, baring her teeth. "I've told you before. Maria wouldn't want you to beat yourself up like this. Not over her. She wanted you to be happy"

Exasperated, Shadow clenched and unclenched his fist. "No, there's more to it than that. You don't understand."

As Rouge was glaring at him, he turned over the picture and stole a glance at it. Maria had returned to boring her gaze into his soul, shaming him.

"Really?" Rouge asked, sounding unconvinced. "Then enlighten me. What is it?" When he refused to answer, she jabbed her finger in his chest. "Tell me what it is, Shadow. What could be so complicated that I couldn't understand? What's this thing you're trying to hide?"

"The thing," he began, swallowing hard. He had to pull through this. Had to overcome it. Don't look at the picture, he told himself. "The thing is I lo—" He choked and cleared his throat. His mind was working on overdrive, trying to hold him back. "Love you."

The inner machinations of his mind seemed to crumble and there was almost a deafening scream from the entity inside that cursed its failure. Maria had hold of his gaze once more and she was livid, her face one of malice boiling beneath the surface. She gripped his heart, squeezing and wrenching it in her grasp.

Rouge covered her shocked mouth and she looked down at the snow. When she raised her eyes again, she asked, "How long?"

"A while now," he said. Suddenly, she leapt on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

She pulled away for a moment and smacked his chest lightly. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

His eyes were fixed to Maria's. Rouge followed him down to the portrait and covered the top half with her hand. "Shadow, this can't go on. What would Maria think?"

"I can't be this close to someone. I shouldn't be. I'll just fail again and then—"

She grabbed him by the chin and jerked his head up to face her. "I didn't ask what your guilt thinks. I asked what Maria would think."

What Maria would think. The words echoed in his mind and already, more of the shame and doubt was rising up. But there was a break in that barrier of blame, one that Shadow peered through. For to conjure up the regret over Maria, his mind had to use Maria as a template.

Shadow dug his fingers into the crack, tearing away pieces until he could peer through. Inside, he saw Maria, the true Maria, standing there, blonde hair shimmering and blue eyes laughing. She came closer to him, cupping his cheek in her soft, gentle hand and smiled at him. The barrier started to reseal itself, but Shadow held it open, leaning into the hand and enjoying its comfort.

Then he was back outside in the cold snow, facing Rouge, who was in the same position, her fingers brushing his cheek. "She would want me to be happy," he said. It was true. He didn't exactly feel a weight lift off his shoulder, as his mind was desperately trying to patch the hole in its mounting guilt. But he did feel lighter, like he had made a breakthrough.

"Exactly," Rouge said. "We all want you to be happy." She grinned. "I love you, too. So don't act like I'm fragile. I won't break if you're close." She kissed him again, holding onto his shoulders. This time, he kissed back, pulling her closer until they were pressed against one another. They moaned softly into one another's mouths, snorting air sharply out of their noses as they pressed their lips hard together, turning to all sorts of angles for the best position.

When their cold lungs begged for air, they separated, panting heavily as they leaned their foreheads against one another. "Better," Rouge said, chuckling airily.

And right then and there, Shadow thought everything would start turning around. Without needing to say anything, he knew Rouge would be by his side and help him. As he rested his chin on her shoulder, he held up the portrait behind her back. When he looked at Maria, she no longer seemed angry. In fact, her cheery smile encouraged him, strengthened him. His lips tugged upwards by a hair and he closed his eyes, squeezing Rouge tighter in their embrace. His thoughts became blank and soon there was only the two of them, warming each other in the chilly weather until Amy called them back inside to finish opening presents.

Work faster. Work faster. Sonic was flipping back and forth through the pages with his foot while trying to crochet the sweater. He refused to stop, continuing to work away while everyone talked downstairs. From the room, he could hear everyone accepting and thanking each other for the gifts, along with occasional questions of where the blue hedgehog was.

When the noise died down, Sonic paused in his work and perked up his ears. "So what should we do with Sonic's presents?" someone asked.

"I guess leave them under the tree," Amy said. She sounded disheartened and it tore at Sonic to hear her like that. His hands sped up, hooking and needling as quick as could be.

"We could go search for him," Tails suggested. "He might be back at the workshop."

"No, no. It's too cold out there," Amy said.

"I'll go," a deep, gruff voice that identified its owner as Shadow right away.

"He should be here after all," Blaze said. "I'll help you." The others volunteered as well.

"But dinner will be cold," Amy said as a clambering of footsteps headed toward the door.

"We won't be long," Silver said. "If we don't find him, we'll come back."

"Okay. Thank you. I'll try and keep the food warm." They rushed out of the house and Sonic saw Tails, Cream, Rouge, and Silver take off into the air. "Be careful!" Amy called. Then the front door slammed shut.

Sonic couldn't ask for a more perfect opportunity. With Amy electing to stay behind to tend to dinner, he could give her the sweater now. But he had to finish first before anyone came back. He figured he only had several minutes at most.

"Almost there," he said, only paying attention to the sweater's neck taking form. The bottom half was blue and gradually faded to red with an intermix of purple between the two sides. To him, it did seem like the kind of color style Amy would wear. However, he accidentally stepped on part of his work and the top half of the sweater came apart. "Not again!" He kicked his shoe out of the yarn and struck the floor.

He froze. Ever so slowly, he laid his ear to the floor. For a moment, he didn't hear anything. Then he heard someone coming to the staircase. Creak. Creak. Step by step, Amy was climbing up the stairs.

Sonic turned off the lights and stowed away in the room's closet with his supplies. He wasn't ready. In the dark, he furiously worked, trying to repair the damage and finish the sweater. Amy was coming closer and closer. The door across the hall opened.

I can't even see what I'm doing. But he didn't stop. He kept on crocheting, squinting in the darkness and barely making out the shape of the sweater. He grabbed yarn by the fistful and hooked it, hoping he was recreating the correct pattern.

The room's door opened and Amy flipped the light on. Sonic fumbled his hook. Amy passed by the closet, her red dress visible through the door's slits. Sonic straightened his hook. Almost there. The sweater was nearly completed. Then without warning, Amy threw open the closet doors.

A/N: And we'll leave you there for now.

Sword: What?! No!

Pen: Yes. Payback for making us commit to this.

Sorry it's a little shorter, but we didn't want to combine everything into this chapter. Thank you for reading and please let us know what you think of it so far.

Sword: We were about to find out…