Blaze squinted at the personnel file in her hands, trying to make sense of the surveillance data. The coffee table in Rouge's living room was covered in mission logs, psychological evaluations, and security footage timestamps that supposedly proved his suspicions.

But her focus kept wandering to Shadow's bandages. She'd changed them just yesterday, but they were already stiff with dried blood and grime. His black fur was matted in places she hadn't been able to properly clean around the wounds, and she was pretty sure she could see dried blood flaking onto Rouge's pristine white couch.

"Your wounds are going to get infected if you keep this up," she said, setting down the file.

Shadow's grip tightened on the paper he was reading, crinkling it. "I'm the Ultimate Lifeform. I don't get infections. The files are what matter right now. These three are—"

"Ultimate Lifeform or not, those bandages need to stay clean to work properly, and right now they're disgusting."

"We changed them yesterday," he snarled, not looking up.

"Yes, and I could only do so much with a damp cloth. You need an actual bath."

Shadow slammed the file down. "We're in the middle of something important. Or have you forgotten what's at stake here?"

"And they'll still be traitors in thirty minutes." Blaze crossed her arms. "You're not going to suddenly crack the case in the time it takes to get cleaned up."

"This is a pathetic waste of time," Shadow growled, his quills bristling.

"No, what's pathetic is trying to focus on these reports while you're leaving blood stains on Rouge's furniture." She stood up. "Bath. Now."

Shadow's crimson eyes blazed as he finally looked at her. "I don't have time for this nonsense. I don't need—"

"If you say you don't need a bath one more time, I will personally drag you to that bathroom." Her tail flicked dangerously, flames briefly flickering along its length. "You're being absolutely ridiculous. Ultimate Lifeform or not, you're covered in dried blood and who knows what else from your dramatic hospital escape. It's not a sign of weakness to take basic care of yourself."

"Don't you dare patronize me," Shadow snapped, standing up to face her. "I'm not some child who needs—"

"Then stop acting like one!" Blaze shot back, refusing to back down. "You're being stubborn for no reason other than pride, and it's getting us nowhere!"

They locked eyes in a fierce battle of wills, tension crackling between them. Finally, Shadow's shoulders dropped slightly, and he let out a vicious growl of frustration. "Fine. But make it quick. These files are more important than your ridiculous coddling."

—-

The sound of a thud, splashing water, and faint cursing was enough to make Blaze frown. She stayed still for a moment, waiting to see if Shadow would call out to her for help. Of course, he didn't.

"Shadow," Blaze called, knocking on the bathroom door. "Everything okay in there?"

"Fine," came the immediate, sharp reply, though his voice was tinged with irritation—and, if Blaze wasn't mistaken, a hint of embarrassment.

Blaze sighed, her arms crossing as she leaned against the doorframe. "Are you actually fine, or are you just saying that because you don't want to admit you're not?"

"I'm fine," Shadow growled, louder this time.

"Uh-huh," Blaze muttered, clearly unconvinced. "Do you need help?"

"No."

Blaze rolled her eyes. Of course, he'd say that. "If you're about to fall over and drown in there because you're too stubborn to ask for help, I'm going to be really annoyed."

"Blaze," Shadow snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "Leave."

But Blaze wasn't budging. "Submerge yourself so I can come in and make sure you're not bleeding all over Rouge's fancy bathtub."

"What? No!"

"Then I'm coming in anyway," Blaze countered, her tone firm. "You've got three seconds, Shadow. Three… two…"

"Fine!" he barked, the sound of sloshing water punctuating his reluctant compliance.

Blaze pushed the door open, stepping inside without hesitation but keeping her eyes firmly on the ceiling. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," Shadow muttered through gritted teeth.

Blaze lowered her gaze cautiously, relieved to see that he was, indeed, mostly submerged in the water. The cloudy soap she'd added earlier helped obscure him further, though his face was unmistakably red. Whether it was from the heat of the bath or something else, she couldn't quite tell.

"Good," Blaze said, grabbing the stool and dragging it closer to the tub. She sat down and rolled up her sleeves, glancing pointedly at his shoulders. "Now lean forward."

Shadow's crimson eyes narrowed. "No."

"You're clearly not capable of washing your own back right now," Blaze shot back, crossing her arms. "You can barely lift your arms without wincing, and your quills are a mess. Stop being stubborn and just let me help."

Shadow's jaw tightened, his pride waging war against the logic of her words. After a long moment, he let out a low, irritated sigh and leaned forward, his arms resting on the edge of the tub.

"This is unnecessary," he muttered, his voice low and gruff.

"Sure it is," Blaze replied, dipping the sponge into the water and wringing it out. "But you're letting me do it anyway, so let's just get this over with."

Shadow bristled at her tone, but he said nothing, his crimson gaze fixed on the far wall. As Blaze began to work, gently scrubbing the spots he couldn't reach, Shadow clenched his teeth, determined not to react.

But he couldn't ignore the strange sensation of her touch—a careful, deliberate pressure that was far gentler than he expected. It was… calming, in a way he wasn't prepared for, and that realization immediately made him tense.

This is ridiculous, he thought to himself, his brow furrowing. He shouldn't be letting her do this. He didn't need her to do this. He was the Ultimate Lifeform, for Chaos' sake. He didn't need anyone.

And yet…

Shadow's shoulders relaxed slightly as Blaze worked out the dried blood and grime from his quills. The warm water, combined with the rhythmic motion of the sponge, was lulling him into an uncharacteristic sense of ease. He hated it.

"This is unnecessary," Shadow said again, his voice sharper this time, as though trying to convince himself as much as her.

Blaze smirked, not pausing in her work. "You already said that."

"And I meant it," he snapped, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Blaze chuckled softly, dipping the sponge back into the water. "Your shoulders say otherwise."

Shadow scowled, his cheeks darkening further. "I'm only tolerating this because you're annoyingly persistent."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Blaze replied lightly, her tone almost teasing.

Shadow growled under his breath, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't, really—not without proving her right. Instead, he focused on the wall in front of him, trying to ignore the strange warmth creeping into his chest that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

This is humiliating, he thought, his jaw clenching. And yet, as much as he wanted to protest, he couldn't deny that it felt… nice. No one had ever done something like this for him before, and the realization made him shift uncomfortably in the tub.

Blaze, meanwhile, seemed blissfully unaware of his internal struggle. She worked carefully, her golden eyes focused on his quills as she rinsed the sponge and started on the stubborn adhesive residue near his shoulders. She couldn't help but notice how quiet he'd become, though the faint redness in his cheeks didn't escape her.

Cute.

The thought struck her out of nowhere, and she blinked, her cheeks heating as she quickly shook her head. Nope. Stop. Not this again.

Blaze cleared her throat, focusing back on the task at hand. "You know," she said after a moment, her tone light, "for someone who acts like he doesn't need anyone, you're really bad at taking care of yourself."

Shadow stiffened slightly at her words. "I don't need anyone," he said firmly, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Sure you don't," Blaze replied with a small smile, wringing out the sponge one last time.

When she finished, she set the sponge aside and leaned back, resting her hands on her knees. "All done," she said, her voice soft but satisfied. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Shadow leaned back against the tub, his shoulders visibly more relaxed, though his expression was as guarded as ever. "It was unnecessary," he muttered for the third time, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him.

Blaze rolled her eyes, standing up and brushing off her skirt. "Right. Totally unnecessary," she said, grabbing a towel from the counter and setting it on a nearby stool.

As she turned to leave, she glanced over her shoulder, watching as Shadow sank a little lower into the water, his sharp features softened by the steam and the faint glow of the bathroom light. For a moment, he almost looked… peaceful.

Blaze smiled to herself, shaking her head. "I'll be in the living room when you're done," she said, her voice light but firm. "And don't even think about skipping the towel. You're already on thin ice."

Shadow huffed, his crimson eyes flicking toward her. "You talk too much."

Blaze chuckled, shutting the door behind her. "You're welcome," she called over her shoulder.

As she returned to the living room, Blaze sank into the chair with a sigh, her tail flicking lazily behind her. Despite Shadow's protests, she knew he'd secretly appreciated her help—he just wasn't the type to admit it.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she didn't mind helping him. Not one bit.