Abraham's eyes flashed. He grabbed Shadow by his jacket, tangling his fingers in the braided cords, and pulled. Shadow dug in his heels and blasted his thrusters, offsetting the momentum. Flames whorled across the desk, scorching a swathe of papers and singeing Abraham's uniform.

'What the hell is your problem?' Abraham demanded.

Shadow tightened his grip on Abraham's collar until he could feel it cutting into his hands. 'Bold of you to assume that I only have one.'

After an agonising silence, Shadow finally let Abraham go. Abraham stumbled and fell back into his chair. 'Damn it …' He held a hand to his chest and coughed, gasping for breath. There was a dark red line on his neck, where the edge of his jacket collar had cut into the skin.

After a moment, Shadow sank down and knelt on the desk's surface with his legs to one side. The edges of his shoes shimmered with heat haze. He locked and unlocked one of his inhibitor rings with one hand. The clicking echoed in the sparsely decorated room.

'… Why didn't you tell me?'

Abraham rubbed his neck with one hand and gave Shadow a wary glance. 'We had always planned to announce the program to the public during its duration. I know it's not ideal, but attempting to keep it under wraps until its completion isn't ideal, either.'

Shadow scoffed and said, 'Do you think I really care about that? I may not like the decision, but I can understand the logic behind it.'

Abraham blinked. 'Is this about the waivers? … Because of your involvement, GUN has to monitor the participants for an indefinite period of time after the program, Shadow. It can't be helped. '

'I don't care about that either. If GUN wants to waste their time and resources looking for threats that will never come to fruition, then they can be my guest.' Shadow cradled his wrist in his lap, picking at a loose thread in the stitching of his wrist guard. 'Why didn't you…' He cleared his throat and looked away.

A photograph in a silver frame sat on the edge of Abraham's desk. Shadow slowly reached over and picked it up. It was of Abraham and Elijah. The older man was teaching his grandson how to ride a bike on a road outside a house with a white picket fence. It was the same house Abraham had invited Shadow to visit all those years ago.

'… Why didn't you tell me that your grandson had cancer?'

Abraham sat back in his chair. It took him several attempts to form a coherent sentence. 'That's what this is about?'

Shadow nodded.

'Oh, for heaven's sake.' After a moment, any trace of emotion disappeared from Abraham's eyes. His posture was rigid, his expression was stiff, and his choice of words was guarded. 'It's not that easy to discuss.'

'You're not obligated to discuss your personal life with me.' Shadow lowered his gaze, wiping fingerprints from the glass of the photo frame with his thumb. 'But if you had told me about it … I would have listened.'

Abraham's eyes widened, but only briefly. 'You already had more than enough on your plate.' He rested his head against his hand and stared at the carpet. 'When Elijah was first diagnosed, you were lying half-dead in a casino somewhere in Night Babylon.'

Shadow's gaze flickered. He looked up. 'Abraham … That was years ago.'

An awkward silence ensued. 'It's not as though things have slowed down since then.'

'No, they haven't.' Shadow tightened his grip on the photo frame. 'But if you're telling me that your grandson was diagnosed around the time that I first confronted Emerl, then that means Elijah has been critically ill for years … yet you never mentioned it once.'

'So?' Abraham said sharply. 'When I'm not wrangling you and the other members of Team Dark, I still have a life of my own.'

'But I would have … understood.' The edges of the photo frame dug into Shadow's hands. 'After everything you and I have been through in the past, I would have been able to understand what you're going through.'

Abraham pushed his chair back abruptly and got up, bracing his hands against the desk. 'That's why I didn't tell you.' He glared down at Shadow. 'You would have understood far too well.'

Shadow set the photo frame aside, and with a flash, he was standing face-to-face with Abraham. 'So?'

'What do you mean – so? Do you even remember how I used to treat you?' Abraham demanded. 'Or did your amnesia erase all the times that I tormented you because of my fear and jealousy? When you think about me, do you just see the person who I wish I was?' His shoulders slumped, and his voice was filled with regret. 'After I learned the truth about Project Shadow, I didn't trust you or Professor Gerald. I called you a monster, and I judged Gerald for "playing God" to save his granddaughter.'

For the first time, Shadow saw the steadfast conviction in Abraham's mismatched eyes begin to dim. 'What kind of hypocrite would I have been if I tried to "play God" in order to save my own grandchild?' Abraham whispered, and his voice was choked. 'And what kind of monster would I have been if I had asked you – of all people – to aid me in my efforts?'

Shadow stepped back, feeling the edge of the desk beneath one shoe. He stared at Abraham in dismay.

'I never asked, but you ended up coming to my family's aid by accident – thanks to this wretched program. You always insist that you only do things for yourself, Shadow, but …' Abraham covered his mouth with one hand, and Shadow saw a faint trace of panic in his eyes. 'Sometimes I can't help but wonder if you're lying.'

'I joined the program before I told you about my grandson's condition,' Shadow said. 'Stop overthinking it.'

He heard a faint ringing in his ears, as though a violin bow was scraping against the strings of his frayed nerves. He should leave it at that. It was a sufficient answer, after all.

But Shadow hesitated. Then he reached out with one hand. Tremors shot up his arm, and it felt like he was lowering his hand over an open flame. He steeled himself and rested his hand on Abraham's shoulder, even though his every instinct was screaming at him to leave. '… But I would have supported you if you had asked.'

Abraham lowered his hand from his face, and his eyes widened as he recognised his own words. 'Even after everything I did to you?'

'You were only a child.' Shadow looked away. 'We both were.'

'… I wasn't a child when I tried to have you killed.'

'But you believed that you were doing the right thing.' Shadow exhaled. 'And I've only ever done what I thought was right … so how can I blame you for doing the same?' He let go of Abraham's shoulder. The metal stars on the man's uniform had left an imprint on his palm.

Abraham looked down and brushed the soot from his desk, staining one glove black. 'Even so … I didn't want to ask you to help my family when you had already lost your own. It felt cruel.'

Shadow shook his head. 'I didn't just lose my family, you know. I also lost my purpose.' He stepped back, watching Abraham clear away the burnt papers scattered across the desk. 'I've … always wondered what would happen if I got a second chance to do what I was made for.' Shadow put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight. 'Despite your reservations, you could have been the one to give me that chance –'

Abraham swept aside the last of the papers, revealing a hairline fracture in the desk's surface. Shadow didn't even have time to react before the desk broke in two. He fell, landing between the broken halves of the desk, and cracked his head on hardwood. Abraham's desktop monitor toppled over and crashed onto his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.

'What the hell – Shadow, are you all right?'

'I'm fine.' The silver photo frame fell down and hit Shadow in the head. He hissed in pain and held one hand to his temple. No doubt he'd brought this on himself by crashing feet-first onto the desk in the first place. '… I guess this is what I deserve for trying to strangle you.'

'I've ordered my troops to kill you on sight in the past. I'm just surprised that it's taken you this long to throttle me.' Abraham leaned down and lifted the monitor off of him, putting it aside. 'But still. I'm not getting any younger, and you're not getting any weaker.'

Shadow scoffed. 'Don't make me laugh. I'm not going to go easy on you just because you have grey hair now.'

'I'm in my late 60s, Shadow. I'm not that much older than you, for that matter.'Abraham gave him a quizzical look and smiled, offering a hand to help Shadow up. '… But I've always had grey hair. You don't remember?'

'… I remember enough.' Shadow took Abraham's hand, but he stopped short of pulling himself upright. 'Even so, I don't remember you and me being friends when we were growing up,' he said pointedly. 'What on earth have you been telling your grandson?'

Abraham's eyes widened. Then he winced. '… Damn it.' He helped Shadow up and stepped back, avoiding Shadow's gaze. After a moment, he coughed, disguising a laugh.

Shadow crossed his arms and tapped one finger on his forearm. 'This isn't funny.'

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but … after everything we just talked about, I can't believe that this is the thing you want to rake me over the coals for.'

Shadow rolled his eyes. 'Why would you lie about something like that? It's so … pointless.'

'I know you must be insulted, Shadow,' Abraham said wearily. 'But they were just stories. Stories don't have to be true.'

'Except it sounds like they were all true … save for the one where you and I were childhood friends.'

'I wished it was true.' Abraham picked up the silver photo frame from the pile of debris that had once been his desk. 'I wished that I had made different choices. I just ... never expected that story to make its way back to you one day.'

'I wish that things had been different as well – but I don't lie to myself about it in order to feel better.'

Abraham placed the photo frame on a ledge with an air of resignation. 'I'm not as strong as you, Shadow. I never was.' The ledge held several other framed photographs. The afternoon sun shone through the windows, and Shadow shielded his eyes so that he could see more clearly.

A moment later, Shadow's hand fell to his side, and he walked over.

One of the photographs was of Shadow, Maria and Abraham. She had pulled the two of them in for a hug, with one arm around each of them. She was beaming at the camera. It seemed as though Shadow and Abraham were looking at each other, but the photo could also have been taken as each of them had turned to look at Maria. Shadow had a faint smile, and Abraham had a wry grin.

'… Did you even lie in the first place?' Shadow asked.

Abraham reached up and took the photo off the ledge, passing it to him. 'I thought I did.'

Shadow held the photograph, and his eyes began to burn. 'I don't … remember this. I don't even know when it was taken.' The photograph had been colourised. The colours weren't real, and maybe his memories weren't either.

As the years rolled by, Shadow would continue to regain more and more of his memories, but he would never know for certain if he had regained them all. It was a slow, painstaking process, complicated by his amnesia and impeded by Gerald's violent intrusions into the depths of his mind. Even if he had once considered Abraham a friend … neither he nor Abraham would ever truly know for sure.

Shadow silently passed the photograph back, but Abraham shook his head. 'Keep it.'

'… I can't.'

'Just take it, Shadow. I've already looked at it for 50 years.'

Shadow swallowed and brushed the dust from the glass, staring at Maria's face. '… I don't have any photos of her. I didn't know where to begin looking.'

Abraham rubbed his jaw, and his brow creased. 'Is that why you were asking me about the photos of Maria that were shown on the news?' When Shadow didn't answer, Abraham said, 'I recently asked Professor Victoria to retrieve and compile the remains of Gerald's journal. There are photographs. I'll ask the archives department to reproduce them for you.'

'… Thank you.'

Abraham pulled open the drawer of his broken desk with the toe of his boot and took out a pair of scissors. He held out a hand. 'Let me have that for a moment.'

Shadow swiftly stepped back, holding the photo frame out of reach. 'No. That's not necessary.'

'You said you wanted photos of Maria. You don't want a photo of the three of us, do you?'

'I'll have to get a smaller frame if you cut it up. I'm not going to waste my time doing that …' Shadow's eyes widened, and he flinched as though he'd just been electrically shocked. 'How long have I been here?'

'I thought you had all the time in the world?'

'Oh, shut the hell up.' Shadow set the photograph down on a nearby cabinet and said, 'I have to get back to the hospital. I'll come back for this later.'

'Don't hurry back.' Abraham dusted off his hands and cast a resigned look at the floor. 'I need to buy a steel desk first.'

'Tch.' Shadow rematerialised the Chaos Emerald, but a twinge stopped him in his tracks. It would only take two words for him to leave, but it only took him two seconds to remember what he was walking back into.

'Shadow?'

'What?' Shadow asked, glancing at Abraham through the emerald's facets.

'Thank you.

'I told you not to thank me, damn it.'

'I know. But I don't want to be telling my great-grandkids stories about how I wished that I had thanked you for helping my family.'

Shadow clenched his hand around the emerald. 'One day, you're going to be telling them stories about how I quit GUN because their great-grandfather was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Chaos Control!'

The last thing he heard was the sound of Abraham laughing, then he landed in front of the reception desk of the cancer care ward with a slam.

He ignored the startled yip of the receptionist and walked off, pushing his way through the double doors that led to the decontamination area. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, ignoring the whispers of the doctors and nurses who walked past him. The multidisciplinary meeting likely hadn't ended yet, but it sounded like rumours were already spreading. Even if it weren't for the meeting, there was also the news broadcast of the terror attack and Abraham's televised press conference.

It was a good thing that he didn't care what people said about him. Because right now, it felt like the whole world was talking – and he was the topic of conversation.

Although he had only gone through the motions once today, he also had years' worth of muscle memory locked away in his mind. He dried his hands, soaked his inhibitor rings in the ultrasonic cleaner and stood beneath the deafening roar of the decontamination capsule.

With a snap, he reappeared in Elijah's room. A doctor he didn't recognise flinched and stepped back. 'Agent Shadow? Where have you been?'

'Something came up.' He sat down and held out his arm. 'I went through decon. Let's get on with it.'

She sighed and took a needle from a nearby trolley of medical equipment. 'I thought you were generally meant to remain on the premises.'

'Like I said, something came up –'

'Shadow?'

He looked over at Elijah. 'What is it now now?'

Elijah glanced up at the blood bag hanging from his IV stand. 'Do you think I'll be able to teleport too?'

'No. You'd need a Chaos Emerald.'

'Are you sure?'

'Quite.' Shadow held a hand over the needle that was now embedded in his arm. 'No teleporting.' He cast a glance at Lindsey's empty chair. 'Where's your mother?'

'She said she had to go get something to eat.'

The nurse excused herself and walked over to the monitors beside Elijah's bed. Shadow's ears pricked up. Elijah's headphones were hanging around his neck. He could hear the faint sound of music seeping from the speakers. He had only listened for a few seconds, but he could already notice the same loops and riffs repeating. '… What are you listening to?'

'Kids Pop.'

Shadow grimaced. 'Aren't you old enough to listen to real music?'

Elijah looked confused. 'What do you mean?'

Shadow coiled the plastic tubing trailing from his arm and hung it from a hook on his IV stand. Then he got up and walked over, wheeling the IV stand with him. At least it acted like a kind of crutch, offsetting the instability in his steps.

'Do you not know how to walk?' Elijah asked.

Shadow gave him a disbelieving look and sat down on the chair beside the bed. 'I can't walk properly without my damn shoes, you little brat.'

Elijah frowned. 'It's not my fault that you lost your shoes.'

'Oh, spare me. We're not doing this again.'

Shadow held one hand to his earpiece, cycling through the device settings until he heard the sharp beep that told him he was sharing his audio with a new device. Then he pressed play, and the sound of a crushing guitar riff came from Elijah's headphones. He picked up a bottle of hand sanitiser, realising all too late that he probably shouldn't have brought the earpiece into the room with him. He was too used to wearing it.

Elijah slipped one side of his headphones on, holding the other away from his head. '… What is this?'

'It's called having taste,' Shadow said. 'You'll thank me later.'

Elijah pulled the other side of the headphones on. He looked perplexed. But after a few seconds, he was aggressively nodding in time to the music … as aggressively as a small child listening to 2000s nu metal could nod, anyway.

Shadow masked a smile, listening to the drop-tuned solo as it played through his own earpiece.

The door swung open, and Lindsey walked in. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the window only made the shadows beneath her eyes appear deeper. She saw Shadow, and her gaze darkened as she walked over. 'Hey. You ran off before I could talk to you earlier. I want you to watch yourself when you're talking to my son.'

Shadow racked his memory. He could only assume that she was referring to how he had spoken to Elijah when the boy was refusing the blood transfusion. He gave Lindsey a cutting glare. 'Coddling him isn't going to help. If you let him get worked up, then it's just going to make things worse for him..'

'He's barely six years old –'

'Too bad. He's going to suffer no matter what. You can only try to make sure that he suffers as little as possible.' Shadow glared at her. 'If you're not going to be tough on him, then someone else will … and I don't see your husband stepping up to the plate.'

Lindsey leaned forward and jabbed Shadow in the chest with one finger. 'Do not talk about his father.'

Shadow looked down in surprise. Then he smirked. '… Interesting choice of words there.'

'I don't have to put up with this.' Lindsey straightened up and put a hand on her hip. Her eyes were glittering. 'I opted into this program, and I can opt out any time I want –'

Shadow put his arms behind his head, locking his fingers together. 'You won't.'

'What makes you so sure?'

Shadow tipped his head in Elijah's direction. He was still nodding his head to the music, and his eyes were squeezed shut. His face, though still pale, now had a hint of colour in it. 'Because I'm the best shot your son has at making it through this in one piece.'

Lindsey's expression shifted, and she sat on the edge of the bed, watching Elijah with uncertainty in her eyes.

'Use that.'

'Use what?'

'That anger. I could hear it when you spoke to me. I don't give a damn who you're angry at or why, but you have to keep going, even if the only thing keeping you going is rage.' Shadow exhaled. 'Just … remember to let that anger go when this is all said and done.'

Lindsey bit her lip, and she gazed at Elijah. Her brow creased. '… What's that sound?' As soon as she recognised the screech of an electric guitar, she gave Shadow a cross look.

'It's the sound of a kid having some damn fun.' Lindsey reached for Elijah's headphones, but Shadow said, 'Leave him be.'

'You're a terrible influence,' Lindsey muttered. 'I should never have agreed to let you meet him.'

Shadow shrugged. 'You could have worse regrets.'

Lindsey hesitated. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled, giving him a reluctant nod.

Elijah abruptly pulled his headphones off and waved his hand to get Shadow's attention. 'Hey, you never told me whether you and Granddad were really friends growing up. Were you?'

Shadow froze. Then he forced a weak smile and opened his mouth to respond.

But then Elijah saw Lindsey, and he sprang forward, shouting, 'Mom!'

'Careful!' she yelped. 'You're already covered in bruises!'

Shadow watched her hug him, and he sat back in his chair, resting his head in one hand.

'… Sure.' He toyed with the blood-filled tube connected to the needle in his arm. 'Why not?'

Elijah blinked and looked up. 'Huh?'

'Don't make me repeat myself, kid.'

Shadow closed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, ignoring Lindsey's perplexed question and Elijah's scatterbrained explanation.

He'd already decided that he would rather regret the things that he said and did … and he had yet to regret that decision.