True Purpose Ch. 2: Station Square General

Shadow presses his palm flat against the cool, clear glass of the front door of the café, and he pushes the door open. The golden bell hanging above the door swings side-to-side as a result, sharply singing his exit into the otherwise mellow air within the café. Shadow takes a step outside and onto the cobblestone street, the usual warm air of Spagonia smacking him gently in the face. He breathes it in, the somewhat comforting scents of the multiple vendors lining the street corners tickling his nose. Shadow leans up against the door, effortlessly holding it open with his back, and he crosses his arms close to his chest.

When he looks back inside, he raises an inquisitive brow at Rouge standing at the red front counter of the café. She's in the midst of chatting animatedly with their waitress – "Sally" if he remembers correctly. Rouge leans her upper body against the top of the counter, her brown purse hanging off her shoulder. With her winged back to him – and the calm, overlapping conversations from the other customers clouding the air – Shadow's completely unable to overhear their conversation. Although, judging from the same sweet smile lining Sally's face from behind her spot at the cash register, he assumes the conversation is a pleasant one.

(Secretly, Shadow finds it intriguing how Rouge always manages to hold an easy conversation with everyone she meets; whether it's a sly conversation for a mission, or a chat with some of the other soldiers at GUN).

He waits – patiently, he should add – for the conversation to eventually lose steam, but the black-and-white clock hanging on the wall behind Sally calls his attention to the time. He cast a quick glance at the thickening crowd outside the café, searching for something – or rather someone – that stuck to him. When he doesn't find anything, he turns back to Rouge.

"Rouge," he calls out, shortly. Rouge's white ear perks in his general direction, and she cranes her head around just enough to cast a teal eye at him. Shadow wordlessly jabs his thumb towards outside, his foot unconsciously tapping out a small rhythm. Rouge chuckles under her breath, and her lips curve upwards just the slightest. She easily slips back into the conversation, and another minute goes by before Rouge effectively ends the talk. She pulls away from the counter, waving a hand to Sally.

"It's been nice," Rouge says, just loud enough that Shadow can hear her. "But I really should be going."

"Of course," Sally agrees, her smile kind as she returns Rouge's wave. "You have a good day, ma'am."

Rouge laughs, short and strong, slowly making her way over to him. "Oh, please. I'm much too young to be called that. Just call me-"

"Rouge," Shadow finishes for her.

She pats him on the chest like he's a dog she's trying to hush. "What he said. See you later, hon. Thanks for the service."

Shadow ushers her out the door before she can find something else to say. He waits for the door to close softly behind them before he levels Rouge with a hard stare. "What was that about?" He asks, because he'd already paid for their drinks before Rouge felt the need to have a friendly conversation.

Rouge shrugs, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "I just wanted to give her a little tip," she explains, mysteriously.

Shadow decides not to comment on the fact that he's usually the one that leaves tips, not Rouge. Instead, he says, "I thought you said we were in a hurry."

"We are," Rouge responds, tightly. Just like earlier, her tone shifts into something darker. Her sharp eyes shift around the area, taking in the tourists lingering near the shops and vendors. Before Shadow can question her sudden wariness, Rouge reaches out, grasps his wrist, and she tugs him to the left. "This way."

"Hey," Shadow hisses, more surprised than annoyed, but he doesn't wrench his hand out of her grip. He follows behind her as she leads them into the heart of the crowd, zig-zagging their way through. "What are you doing?"

Rouge turns right down a street, the crowd beginning to lessen. "Just looking for somewhere a little more private," she explains, vaguely.

Shadow nearly elbows his way past a large group of tourists. "Didn't you say that you took care of all the GUN spies?"

Rouge doesn't answer immediately, too busy leading Shadow down yet another street. "Well," she begins. "Yes and no."

"Yes, and no?"

"Technically speaking," Rouge starts, and, honestly, it's never a good thing when she starts a sentence like that. "I've only brought us a little time." She looks back at him, but her eyes don't settle on him. Instead – as Shadow soon realizes – she's looking past him. He twists his head around to follow the direction of her stare, but people are already filing in behind them. "The GUN agents I struck a deal with will be switching out in a couple minutes. And, I don't know about you, hon, but I think it's best if we make ourselves scarce."

Shadow furrows his brow, and he considers asking why she waited so long to tell him that important piece of information. Then, he remembers that it's Rouge he's dealing with, and he settles for silently nodding his head in agreement.

Rouge continues pulling him down different streets, taking seemingly random sharp turns here and there. They finally turn onto a street filled with only a couple of lost tourists milling around, staring helplessly into their phones and crumpled maps. They're halfway down the street when Rouge suddenly stops, narrowly causing Shadow to run into her back.

Rouge gestures with her head to the dark alleyway to the right of them. "In here," she commands, rather than says.

They rush into the alleyway, and Shadow wrinkles his nose at the overwhelming stench of warm, rotten garbage emitting from the two blue dumpsters at the end of the alleyway. Rouge peers out the lip of the alleyway for a couple of seconds, searching the area for their supposed pursers before she turns to face him.

Rouge raises her hand and briefly covers her nose from the smell. "We should be safe," she assures from behind her palm.

"For now," Shadow states, but he trusts Rouge's word; she hasn't proven him wrong, thus far. He leans against the brick wall of one of the buildings in the alleyway – an Italian restaurant, he assumes, judging by the red-green-and-white containers in the dumpster – and he crosses his arms. "So, how are we supposed to get out of here without being seen?"

(He knows he could easily run them through to the outskirts of the town if needed, but it did mean that they would likely be spotted together).

Rouge gives him a familiar, knowing look. "The obvious way."

It's interesting to see how accurately he's still able to read her expression. "I don't have a Chaos Emerald," he stresses, purposely. From the moment he began his tour of the world, he knew he didn't want to miss anything by using the Chaos Emeralds to travel. (And, besides, Sonic and others always seemed to need the Chaos Emeralds, and the last thing he wanted was the blue idiot tracking him down for it).

Rouge grins. "I'm glad you haven't lost your touch."

She opens her seemingly bottomless purse and pulls out a green Chaos Emerald. The Chaos energy pours out into the alleyway like a wave, and Shadow bathes in the familiarity of it. Rouge holds it out to him, and Shadow stares at it but doesn't take it.

"The catch?"

"This again?" Rouge sighs, good-naturedly, and she pushes it into Shadow's chest. "Let's just say it's on the house."

Shadow nods, and he grabs the emerald. Energy pulses up his arm as he holds it, the black-and-red fur along his arm rising as a result. "Where to?"

"Station Square General."

"I haven't been there before."

"Can't you make an estimation?"

"Not unless you want to end up in a wall," Shadow answers. A large part of using Chaos Control hinged on being able to accurately envision the location you wanted to teleport to. (Otherwise, you risk subjecting yourself to a quick and, otherwise, idiotic death).

Rouge bites her lip, thinking. "Do you remember," she begins after a few seconds. "That tea shop Amy brought you to?"

"Yes?"

"It's just a couple of blocks away from where we need to be. Will that work?"

Shadow bobs his head, and he pushes away from the brick wall. "Get close." He waits until she does just that before he raises the emerald in the air. "Chaos Control!"

They disappear in a flash of light, leaving nothing but a few glittering remains of Chaos energy behind, and –

reappear on the sidewalk just outside of the famed tea shop in Station Square. People within the ever-present crowd that typically lines the concrete jungle of Station Square shout and swerve around Shadow and Rouge in surprise. A couple of people even throw a couple of choice words at them, but Shadow quickly shuts them up with an icy glare.

Ignoring the mob of people around them, Rouge stares up at the sign for the tea shop. "Taylor's Tea Shop," she reads, and the corners of her lip quirk upward. "Only an old soul like you would enjoy something like this." Before Shadow could comment on that, Rouge turns and beckons with her hand. "Come on. Station Square General's this way."

Shadow huffs, but he still follows her into the crowd. If he thought Spagonia seemed crowded, then Station Square was ten times worse. People of all kinds – like people wearing suits and carrying briefcases – overload the tiny sidewalks, practically screaming into their cell phones. Despite the chaos around them, Rouge easily slides in and out of the hordes of people, and Shadow does his best to follow. He's, unfortunately, not oblivious to the numerous people openly looking at them and whispering to one another.

"I thought we couldn't be seen in public?" Shadow asks when he's able to walk next to Rouge.

"Correction," Rouge starts, smiling slyly. "We couldn't be seen in Spagonia. No one should be looking for us here."

"Mm."

They walk for several minutes, passing buildings that seemingly stretched into the very sky.

"Rouge," Shadow says, "how long have you known about this?"

Rouge pauses. "I'm not completely sure. A couple of days? A week?"

"And this has been going on for…?"

"Even longer." Shadow eyes Rouge's hand as it tightens around the strap of her purse. "Too long."

"Why involve me now, then?"

Rouge fully stops this time, and Shadow stops with her. "Shadow, hon," she looks Shadow square in the eyes. "If it was up to me – and the situation wasn't as bad as it could be – I wouldn't have gotten you involved. I know how important it was for you to go on your little trip. But, of course, someone always needs saving."

She smiles, then, but it's tight and bittersweet. Shadow's not sure what to make of that, or the slight pulse of warmth that blooms across his chest from the honesty in her words. Instead, he just says, "thanks."

Rouge nods, stops using her purse strap for a stress toy, and she continues walking. "No problem, hon," she states, quietly.

They walk past a couple of more stores – each one more exceedingly gaudy than the last – and turn another corner before stopping outside a tall, wide beige-colored building that sits comfortably between two office buildings. Big, tinted glass windows circled each level of the building, and a large red plus sign sits at the very top. A sign sits on the dull grass just outside of the building's grounds, proudly displaying the name "STATION SQUARE GENERAL," in big silver letters.

"Here we are," Rouge announces, as if the sign didn't do it justice.

They step onto the winding sidewalk leading to the entrance of the hospital, walking alongside the wide parking lot filled to the brim with badly parked cars. Just outside the hospital, two male nurses dressed in purple scrubs – one a human with brown hair and the other a short cheetah – are smoking cigarettes as they chat. (Shadow's not sure, but he thinks that's extremely ironic for some reason).

Shadow finds himself slowing down when they near the entrance, glass automatic doors sliding open and shut as people stagger out; some being pushed in blocky wheelchairs. Unconsciously, he stops just short of the door, staring up at the red, illuminated "EMERGENCY," that rests above the entrance, and he thinks about-

the sharp, pungent scent of disinfectant that clings to the air. His life – though short – has always been filled with the cloying scent; the smell forever engrained into his memory.

He hovers just outside of Maria's room, pressing his small body against the cool, metal wall, and peering around the corner into the room. Maria's room is carefully decorated with pictures of supposed locations on the blue-and-green planet below them; places Maria says she wants to visit when she's better. (At least, Shadow hopes she gets better).

A couple of the Ark's scientists huddle around Maria's large bed in their bright white lab coats, talking amongst themselves and staring at the tablets in their hands. The big words they use are foreign to Shadow. (He'd only begun talking recently, so words were still difficult for him to understand). Gerald talks over all of them, his words lost in the mixture of voices, but his tone commanding and strained.

Amid it all, Maria drowns in her rainbow-colored sheets, propped up only by her fluffy pillows. Her skin is pale, matching the white of the scientists' lab coats, and her blond hair is dull and sticky with sweat. Her blue eyes are tinged with exhaustion as she observes the adults around her. It takes a while, but her eyes finally land on him, crouching in the doorway. The exhaustion creeps from her expression, and a weak smile wobbles onto her lips.

She takes the only hand not completely swathed in bandages and an IV line – Shadow recalls the term from one of the scientists' conversations – to wave at him. "Hi," she mouths.

Shadow musters enough courage to shyly wave back. "Hi."

Gerald finally breaks away from the overlapping scientific conversations long enough to ruffle Maria's stiff hair. Maria giggles, her smile growing as Gerald smooths her bangs back and kisses her forehead. With Gerald's broad back to the scientists, their mutterings change, and their facial expression shift into something Shadow's young mind can't comprehend.

(It's not till Shadow returns from his fall from space, and everyone's looking at him with that same look does the awful truth finally register in his mind. They're looking at a walking corpse-).

White, pristine gloved fingers snap before Shadow's eyes, and he blinks once, twice, as the past melts away into the present. Rouge materializes in front of him, staring intently as if she was appraising a piece of jewelry.

"Lost you for a second," she affirms, and it isn't until Rouge steps back, that he realizes how close she had gotten. "What's up with you?"

Her expression remains casual – if not a little curious – but Shadow detects the underline concern hiding within her tone.

He looks away from her, memories still tingling in the back of his mind. "Nothing."

Rouge openly peers at him, like he's some kind of complex puzzle she's trying to figure out. Then, something must've clicked because she twists to look at the entrance to the hospital and back at him.

"Sorry, hon," Rouge starts. Shadow narrows his eyes at the sudden apology and, just as he's about to ask, she's continuing. "I forgot you have a thing with hospitals."

Shadow grits his teeth.

Rouge digs through her purse. "I'm not much of a fan of doctors, either." Shadow's not too sure how honest that statement is. "I'll just call the others and tell them to meet us out here."

Shadow watches as she pulls out her phone, and he clenches his fists because Rouge's obviously trying to give him an out. A tiny part of him wants to take it, but the other part of him – the more prideful part – squishes it down. He swallows hard, and he grabs Rouge's wrist just as she's typing in the last number.

"It's fine," he says, shortly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Shadow grinds out. "I'm sure."

Rouge hums, pulls away, and pockets her phone. "If you say so."

She turns away, and heads towards the sliding doors. Shadow breathes in once, and he follows behind her. The doors part for them with a quiet whoosh, and a blast of cold air settles on them like a blanket. The waiting room is wide with a sea of sofas and gray plastic chairs, and the room is painted a cream color with slight splashes of color here and there. Paintings with random smears of paint adorn the walls, and home improvement shows play on the televisions. Thankfully, the few people in the waiting room seem too busy drowning in their own problems to notice them.

Across from the entrance, a long white-and-orange desk stands with a plastic shield running along the top of the surface. Behind the shield, a squirrel wearing purple scrubs and a black jacket sits before a computer, the crow's feet around her dark blue eyes deepening as she squints through her black framed glasses at the bright screen. Her graying hair is up in a tight bun – except for the stray curls hanging around her cheeks – and a plain, silver nametag states her name as "Rosie" in intricate cursive writing. When Shadow and Rouge approach her, she's busy typing along her keyboard, and her left ear twitches.

"Just give me a minute, and I'll be right with you," she requests, politely. Her tone reminds Shadow faintly of Cream and her mother. Rosie presses a couple more buttons before she sighs and brushes her curls from her forehead. Though her eyes do not fully leave the computer, she casually asks, "what can I do for you, dears?"

Rouge leans on the counter. "We're here to see a patient."

Rosie hums. "Who?"

"Maurice Hedgehog."

Shadow furrows his brow in absolute confusion. However, before he could question Rouge, Rosie tears her head from the computer screen, her eyes widening and her mouth open. She focuses her shocked gaze on Rouge and then settles on Shadow.

"You're-"

Rouge shifts to the right, partially blocking Shadow from view. "Looking for Maurice Hedgehog," she stresses, sharply cutting her off.

Rosie closes her mouth with a small click, and she straightens into her seat. "R-right," she stutters, quickly inputting some information into the computer. "We've had to move him due to some ongoing complications," she explains, and Shadow scowls because what does that mean? "Let me write down his new room information for you."

Rosie scribbles something in black ink on a bright pink sticky note, and she passes it through the little hole in the plastic shield. "Here you go," she says, and Rouge picks it up with two fingers. "You probably already know this, but the elevators are straight down the hall to your left."

Rouge smiles, simple and kind. "Thanks."

They follow the directions, and they halt before the massive gray doors of the hospital's elevators. Rouge presses the up button located in between the two main elevators, the button lighting up around the imprinted black arrow. Her gaze purposely lands upon Shadow as they wait, a question evident in her teal eyes. Shadow coolly ignores it, as he chooses to observe the numbers – sitting just above the elevators – count down to their level. The metal doors peel open, and Shadow steps in first. He tries to be subtle as he presses himself against the back of the elevator, crossing his arms close to his chest. Rouge wisely decides not to comment, as she follows him in and selects the button for the fourth floor. The doors close, and the elevators tremble momentarily – an occurrence that Shadow does not particularly like – before it moves upward with a slight mechanical whir.

"So," Shadow clears his throat, awkwardly. "Maurice?"

Rouge grins, widely, like Shadow's just told her a funny joke. "It's not like we could've used his real name. Otherwise, we face the very real possibility of the hospital being flooded with news reporters. And, you know."

Shadow very much did know. "But, why Maurice?"

Rouge shrugs, dismissively, but her grin remains in place. "That's a question for him."

Shadow glowers at her, and Rouge maturely responds by turning her back to him. The elevator suddenly jolts to a soft stop, and the doors open. Rouge moves to the side to let Shadow out, and he steps out into the bright hallway. Like the first floor, the fourth floor's hallway is painted the same dull cream color with slight teal accents running along the walls. A couple of feet from the elevators, doors line both sides of the hallways with blocky numbers designating them.

Rouge hums, tentatively. "It should be room 411," she says, staring at the sticky note in her hand.

They walk further down the hallway, eying the room numbers as they pass. The hallway eventually widens, and a small nursing station sits to the left of them. Several nurses – all wearing the same purple scrubs as Rosie – huddle together, chatting quietly. A short girl with her blond hair in a ponytail breaks away from the group to peer down the hallway opposite them. She scurries back to her group when she notices Shadow and Rouge and, suddenly, all the nurses are openly staring at them.

Shadow's curious about their behavior, until they successfully pass the nursing station, and he spots a familiar red figure lurking near the end of the hallway; unsurprisingly enough, it's Knuckles. The echidna's standing with his back pressed against the wall, and his arms crossed. Shadow notices he's staring outside the window across from him with an unusually guarded expression on his face. (At least, for him, Shadow thinks).

Beside him, Rouge perks up – presumingly at the sight of Knuckles – and she quickens her pace. Shadow assumes it's the sharp clicking of her heels that finally peels Knuckles' attention from whatever trance he's in. He turns his body to greet them, and, for the first time, Shadow realizes he's holding a brown leather hat in his hands. The hat has a black strap wrapped around it, and three yellow circles with bright red stars are pinned along it. Knuckles wastes little time plopping the hat on top of his head as he waits for them to reach him.

Rouge beats Shadow there – deliberately swinging her hips, Shadow notes, rolling his eyes. "Hey there, Red," she greets, saucily, a smile gracing her lips.

Knuckles' cheeks burn just a bit at the nickname – or, maybe, the way she said it, Shadow's not sure – and he frowns down at Rouge. (Shadow can't help but notice the echidna's grown another inch since he last saw him). "It's Knuckles," he corrects, moodily, but his voice lacks any real annoyance. "But it's good to see you, Rouge."

Rouge's smile settles into something more genuine at Knuckles' words.

Knuckles must've suddenly realized Shadow's there too because he awkwardly clears his throat. "It's, uh, nice to see you too, Shadow." He holds his palm out to Shadow. "I wish it could've been under better circumstances."

Shadow nods, shaking his hand.

"Speaking of which," Rouge says. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm keeping watch," Knuckles answers, sharply, and Shadow's not sure he expected anything less from the echidna. "Just in case, you know, someone knows we're – he's – here."

Shadow can't help himself. "You don't think that's more obvious if you're standing outside his room?"

Knuckles scowls at him.

"He's got a point, Red," Rouge jumps in. "You're supposed to be laying low."

Knuckles sighs, and his shoulders seemingly slump under some unknown weight. "It's just," he stops and mulls over his next words. "Inside that room, there's not much I can do. Out here, I, at least, feel like I'm doing something."

(Shadow's brow raises just a bit at that because he now remembers one of the reasons why he respects Knuckles; the guy's always honest, even to a fault).

Beside him, Rouge's expression softens in a way Shadow rarely sees. "It's a good thing he's got you, then," she states, simply.

Knuckles huffs, but the corner of his lips twitches upwards. He twists away from them, and he raps his namesakes against the door beside him. The knocks echo down the otherwise silent hallway, and they wait.

"Who is it?" A quiet, feminine voice calls out. Shadow recognizes it immediately, even if it sounds unusually higher than usual.

Knuckles rolls his eyes, though he seems amused. "Amy, it's me," he confirms, and he briefly turns to look at Shadow and Rouge. "And I've got Shadow and Rouge with me? We good to come in?"

"Really?" The voice – Amy, Shadow corrects – asks, and a couple of hushed voices speak up inside the room. Amy quickly hushes them. "You guys are good to come in."

Knuckles twists the knob in his hand, and the door pops open. He steps in first, holding the door open with his palm. Rouge slips in behind him with Shadow following closely, and, when he enters the room, he looks around.

The hospital room itself, is fairly sized with a small window facing the direction of the parking lot, a few stray beams of the afternoon sun shining into the room. Several plastic hospital chairs line the entirety of the room, and Shadow's gaze settles upon the few people sitting in the room.

Vanilla – the motherly rabbit, Shadow recalls – sits comfortably against the wall in one of the hard, plastic chairs. She's dressed in a casual sky-blue dress and black waistcoat with a pair of simple black slippers. Below her, Cream's slumbering away in her usual orange dress, lying with her head cushioned by her mother's lap. Vanilla's smoothing her hand along the fur on Cream's head when Shadow enters. She looks up, and she gives Shadow a soft smile when their eyes meet. Shadow nods back in response.

When Shadow looks to his right, Amy's hovering near the door. She's dressed in a white shirt and a red skirt that swishes around her legs as she shifts her weight. Her quills are a few inches longer than Shadow remembers, and they curl around the tips of her shoulders. Her jade eyes seem filled with exhaustion when Shadow looks at her, but she grins at the sight of him.

"Shadow, it's great to see you again," Amy says, excitedly. Shadow notes that she appears seconds away from hugging him, but she seems to be holding herself back. (He's secretly thankful for her sudden restraint).

"It's nice to see you too, Rose," Shadow greets.

Amy's smile widens, and she spins around to address Rouge. "I can't believe you managed to track him down."

Rouge brushes her hair over her shoulder. "Did you expect anything less?"

"Yes," Knuckles states from behind her.

Rouge narrows her eyes at him, and Shadow's not in the least surprised when an argument easily develops between the two of them. Amy shakes her head at the sight, but she's still smiling. She turns back to Shadow. "Come on," she gestures with her hand. "He's been waiting for you."

Shadow bobs his head, and he follows her as she leads him to a small section of the room that's sectioned off by a literal wall of bland curtains. He waits, watching as Amy pulls a section of the curtain open. "Tails?" She calls into the opening she's made. "Shadow's here."

Shadow's right ear twitches at the distinct sound of a chair scraping against the floor and, within seconds, a yellow head's popping out of the curtains. Tails – who's definitely grown a little, Shadow notes – peers at them with bright eyes, and Shadow finds his eyes drawn to the worn pair of googles strapped to the fox's head. Tails smiles when he seems Shadow – and Shadow can't help but notice he looks just as tired as Amy.

"S-Shadow," the young fox stutters, and Shadow's happy to see some things never change. "We're so glad you could come."

Before Shadow could respond, Amy's leaning in between them. "Did you manage to wake him up?" She asks, her tone now etched with concern.

Tails blinks, and then he nods. "Yeah, he's awake and-"

"He doesn't like it when you talk about him like he's not here."

Shadow's brows furrow at this because the voice that drifts through the curtains is familiar, but it lacks its usual strength. Tails, on the other hand, rolls his eyes while Amy's shoulders slump with relief.

"And," Tails continues, fully intending on ignoring the voice, apparently. "I was going to say that he wants to talk to you, Shadow."

Tails pulls the curtains open, and he steps to the side to let Shadow through. Shadow makes his way past the sea of curtains, and he finds himself abruptly stopping at what he sees on the other side. Before him, a large hospital bed rests, surrounded by machines whose names have been forever etched into his brain; he immediately registers the incessant beating of the heart monitor. Within the bed, itself, sits an annoyingly familiar face; it's Sonic.

Sonic sits unsteadily in his bed, his upper body only supported by the several white pillows piled up behind him. His messy quills are dull, losing their vibrant blue sheen, and horribly matted with sweat. When Shadow walks in, Sonic's eyes immediately settle on him, permitting Shadow to see the dark circles reigning free underneath them. However, Sonic's emerald gaze – though filled with bone-deep exhaustion – remains unchanged; it's still brimming with defiance and freedom.

"Hey there, Shadow," Sonic greets with a wave, the IV line taped to the back of his palm dragging across his white sheets. An oxygen mask's strapped to his face, but he's still grinning. "Long time no see, huh?"