Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You have water right?"

"Yup."

"And you took something with to eat to keep your blood sugar up?"

"Of course."

"And you'll call if anything—"

Tom laughed, cutting her off.

"Relax babe, I'll be fine."

"Don’t knock me for worrying. Your arm is still healing and you shouldn't be pushing yourself," Maddie finished, crossing her arms. Her worried gaze followed Tom as he clipped Ozzy’s leash to the dog’s collar.

Tom sighed, turning to face her. "Maddie, I promise it’s just a short walk. I’m not running a marathon, and I’m not planning on beinh a hero anytime soon. I just need a little air, some quiet... you know, a moment to myself. And besides," he glanced down at Ozzy, who wagged his tail excitedly, "Ozzy could use it too."

Maddie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "I know you love your space, but I also know you love taking care of everyone else. What happens if your arm gives out or you trip over something?"

"I'll call you," Tom assured her, holding up his phone. "You’re one speed dial away, remember? And I know Ozzy will bark loud enough to scare off anyone or anything if it comes to that."

Her lips twitched at his attempt at humor, but her worry didn’t fade entirely. "I just don’t like the idea of having you out of my sight Tom. Ever since the incident, everything's been—"

"Chaotic?" he offered gently. "Yeah, I know. But it’s also been kind of amazing, hasn’t it? You, me, and three alien kids stuck together under one roof." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "I wouldn’t trade it for the world, Maddie. But I still need to recharge every now and then."

She stared at him for a long moment before finally sighing and stepping forward to adjust his scarf. "Just promise me you’ll actually take it slow? No rushing, no heroics, and definitely no climbing anything."

"Scout's honor," Tom said, placing a hand over his heart. 

Ozzy barked, tugging on the leash. Tom chuckled and gave Maddie a quick kiss on the cheek. "We’ll be back before you even have time to miss me."

"I already do," she muttered as he opened the door.

Tom gave her a reassuring smile before stepping outside. The cool air greeted him as he and Ozzy headed toward the woods, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot. Maddie watched them go until they disappeared among the trees, her worry lingering like a shadow in her mind.

Maddie hovered by the window, her eyes fixed on the path leading into the woods. Tom’s figure was becoming barely visible, his silhouette framed only by the rustling trees, with Ozzy trotting faithfully at his side. She hugged herself, worry gnawing at her despite his reassurances.  

“Still watching him?” a gentle voice asked from behind.  

Maddie turned to see Tails standing in the doorway, his twin tails swishing lazily. He offered her a small, knowing smile, his sharp blue eyes full of understanding.  

“Yeah,” Maddie admitted, stepping away from the window but not fully letting go of her anxiety. “I know he needs some space, and I know he’s not helpless, but I can’t shake the feeling that something might happen. His arm’s still healing, and those woods can be unpredictable.”  

Tails nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get it. We've been through a lot lately. It’s normal to worry.” He tapped his temple lightly, grinning. “That’s why I made sure you wouldn’t have to.”  

Maddie raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”  

“I might’ve, uh… placed a tracker on Tom,” Tails said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.  

Her eyes widened in surprise, and then, despite herself, she laughed. “You tracked him?”  

“It’s subtle! He’ll never even notice,” Tails assured her quickly. “It’s in his scarf. I just thought it’d give you some peace of mind, you know? If anything happens, I can locate him right away.”  

Maddie exhaled, a mix of relief and exasperation crossing her face. “Tails, that’s… a little sneaky, but also really thoughtful.”  

The fox shrugged modestly. “I know Tom likes his independence, but that doesn’t mean we can’t look out for him. Just don’t tell him I said anything, okay?”  

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Maddie promised, smiling warmly. She felt a weight lift off her chest, knowing Tails had taken the extra precaution. “Thanks, Tails. That really helps.”  

He gave her a thumbs-up. “Anytime. I’ll keep an eye on the signal while he’s out. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”  

Sonic zipped into the room in a blur of blue, skidding to a stop beside Maddie and Tails. He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, with a bemused expression on his face. "You guys know you’re acting, like, super paranoid right now?"

Maddie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms defensively. "It’s called being cautious, Sonic. Tom’s arm is still healing, and the last thing we need is for him to overdo it and hurt himself."

"Uh-huh," Sonic said, his tone skeptical. "But he’s just walking the dog. Ozzy’s, what, like... the least threatening animal on the planet?" He glanced at Tails. "And you planted a tracker on him? Seriously? I could check on him in 0.1 seconds and he’d never even know I was there."

Tails rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "It’s just in case something happens, Sonic. Better safe than sorry, you know?"

Maddie shot Sonic a look. "We’re not trying to hover, Sonic. We just want to make sure he’s okay."

"Right," Sonic said, smirking. "But if you really respect his need for space, why not just trust him to handle it? I mean, planting a tracker doesn’t exactly scream privacy."

Maddie blinked, caught off guard by the statement. "This is different," she insisted. "We’re not spying on him. We’re just... being prepared!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sonic said, waving his hand dismissively. "Prepared to totally invade his personal bubble the second something seems off. Got it."

Tails coughed awkwardly, clearly trying to suppress a smile. Maddie huffed and placed her hands on her hips. "Sonic, if you’re not going to be helpful, why don’t you go do something productive? Maybe... go clean your room?"

Sonic grinned, unfazed. "Nice deflection, Mom." He stretched lazily. "Fine, I’ll stay out of it. But just so you know, if something does happen, I’ll be there in a flash. Tracker or no tracker."

"Good to know," Maddie said, her tone dry but not entirely ungrateful.

As Sonic sped off in a blur, Tails looked at Maddie with an amused expression. "He’s not wrong, you know. About respecting privacy."

Maddie sighed, rubbing her temples. "I know, but it’s hard when it’s someone you love. You’d do anything to keep them safe, even if it means bending the rules a little."

Tails nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the window. "Yeah. I get that."

Tom chuckled as he launched the stick as far as he could with his good arm. Ozzy barked enthusiastically and bolted after it, his tail wagging so hard it looked like it might propel him forward. The sight made Tom grin despite himself. "Good boy, Ozzy! Go get it!"  

He stretched his sore shoulder lightly, glancing down at the sling on his other arm. "Maddie would kill me if she saw this," he muttered, shaking his head. But being out here, away from the unorganized nature of their home, felt liberating. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this—a moment to breathe, to feel like himself again.  

Tom crouched down to pick up another stick, wincing a little as his arm protested the motion. He ignored it and tossed the second stick into the air, catching it with a flick of his wrist. "Still got it," he murmured with a faint smile.  

As he waited for Ozzy to return, his mind wandered. He thought about Maddie, always so supportive and fiercely protective. Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles, who’d turned their lives upside down but somehow made them richer, fuller. Even the chaos of their daily lives felt like a blessing when he thought about it in such a way, especially following the incident at GUN's London headquarters.

He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp woodland air fill his lungs. "Life's a little crazy," he said aloud, more to himself than anyone.

His smile lingered until he realized something. Ozzy hadn’t returned.  

Frowning, Tom turned in the direction Ozzy had bolted. The rustling of leaves and the jingle of the dog’s collar were noticeably absent. "Ozzy?" he called, his voice cutting through the quiet.  

No response.  

Tom straightened, his good hand cupped around his mouth. "Ozzy! Come on, boy!"  

The woods remained still, save for the occasional creak of branches swaying in the breeze. Anxiety began to creep in as he stepped forward, scanning the trees for any sign of movement. "This isn’t funny, Ozzy!" he called again, his tone more urgent.  

He strained to listen, but all he heard was the faint rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Tom’s chest tightened. Had Ozzy wandered too far? Or worse, had something happened to him?  

Clutching his phone in one hand, Tom ventured deeper into the woods, ignoring the ache in his arm. "Stay calm," he told himself. "He’s a smart dog. He’ll show up any second now."  

But as the seconds stretched into minutes, Tom’s heart began to race. Something wasn’t right.

Tom moved deeper into the woods, his steps quickening as unease grew in his chest. The forest was unnervingly quiet—too quiet. The usual sounds of rustling leaves, chirping birds, and distant wildlife seemed to have vanished. He paused for a moment, straining to hear anything.

Nothing.

"Ozzy!" he called again, his voice echoing off the trees. "Come on, boy! Where are you?"

His pulse quickened as his boots crunched over twigs and leaves. He scanned the area, his eyes darting between the trees. The stillness pressed against him like a heavy weight. His mind raced with possibilities—had Ozzy chased something too far? Gotten stuck? Hurt?

Finally, just as he was beginning to panic, Tom spotted a familiar silhouette in the distance. "Ozzy!" he shouted, relief flooding his voice.

The golden retriever stood a few yards away, facing away from him, his posture oddly stiff. Tom’s brows furrowed as he approached. "Hey, buddy, you had me worried there for a second. What’s up? Find something interesting?"

Ozzy didn’t move.

Tom slowed his pace, his earlier relief now tinged with unease. The closer he got, the more he noticed something off about Ozzy’s stance. The dog’s ears were perked up, his tail still, his focus fixed on something just beyond the ridge.

"Ozzy?" Tom asked cautiously, stepping closer. "What’s going on, boy?"

As he reached out to touch the dog’s collar, his foot caught on a hidden root buried beneath the leaves. "Whoa!" he yelped as he lost his balance.

The ground gave way beneath him, and he tumbled down a small ridge, landing with a thud in a pile of damp leaves at the bottom. The wind was knocked out of him as he lay there for a moment, staring up at the canopy of trees above.

"Ugh... Great," he muttered, sitting up and brushing leaves off his jacket. His sling had shifted awkwardly, and his good arm ached from trying to break his fall.

Above him, Ozzy barked, finally moving from his spot to peer down at him with wide, concerned eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine," Tom called up, wincing as he tested his limbs. "Thanks for the help, by the way."

Ozzy barked again, his tail wagging hesitantly, as if to say: You okay down there?

Tom sighed, pushing himself to his feet. The ridge wasn’t too steep, but the climb back up wasn’t going to be fun—especially with one arm out of commission. "Alright, buddy, you better have a good excuse for dragging me out here," he muttered, scanning the area around him.

That was when he noticed the black lump curled up by the tree next to him.

"What in the—"

Before he had any time to react, there was a gloved hand wrapped around his throat. Electric, crimson eyes looked down at him and a snarl came to the hedgehog’s mouth.

He found himself on the verge of panic when he was suddenly freed, Shadow releasing him and stepping back as though he had seen a ghost.

Tom stumbled backward, coughing and clutching his throat as he stared at the black hedgehog in shock. The intensity of those crimson eyes was seared into his mind. Shadow stood frozen a few feet away, his usually imposing demeanor replaced by something that almost resembled... confusion?

"You..." Shadow's voice was low, almost disbelieving, as if he were trying to reconcile what he was seeing. His fists unclenched, though his stance remained tense.

Tom took a steadying breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "W-why is it that every time we meet, you nearly kill me?" he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Shadow’s eyes flicked to Ozzy, who had climbed down the ridge and was now standing protectively in front of Tom, growling softly. Shadow didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted back to Tom, his expression unreadable.

"You shouldn’t be here," Shadow finally said, his voice cold but lacking its usual bite.

Tom frowned, still catching his breath. "What’s your excuse, then? Last I checked, this forest wasn’t private property." He straightened up, brushing leaves off his clothes. "And what do you mean I shouldn’t be here? This is practically my backyard."

He hesitated, wondering whether his discovery of the presumed dead hedgehog was emergency worthy enough to make a call to Maddie.

Shadow seemed to pick up on his thoughts. "I'll leave peacefully. You don’t have to call in reinforcements."

Tom frowned, rubbing his throat gingerly. "Reinforcements? You think I’m gonna call in a SWAT team or something? Give me a little credit."

Shadow’s eyes narrowed slightly, his guarded demeanor remaining.

Tom crossed his arms—or tried to, given the sling—and leveled the black hedgehog with a stern look. "But what I do want is an explanation. How are you even alive? Last I was told, you were doing a one-hedgehog firework show with that giant laser in space."

Shadow’s gaze darkened, his posture stiffening. "I survived."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "No kidding. Care to elaborate?"

Shadow hesitated, his crimson eyes flickering with a mix of irritation and something Tom couldn’t quite place—vulnerability, maybe? After a moment, he folded his arms and turned away slightly.

"The explosion didn’t kill me," Shadow admitted quietly, his voice tinged with an edge of bitterness. "I was thrown clear, unconscious. By the time I regained awareness, I was... here."

Tom tilted his head, studying the hedgehog. "Here? Like, the woods here? You’ve been living here? For a whole month?"

Shadow didn’t respond immediately, but the silence was telling.

"Okay, that’s a yes," Tom muttered, more to himself than anything. He gestured around the forest, his voice incredulous. "You’ve been hiding out in the middle of nowhere, eating... what? Berries? Squirrels? Do hedgehogs even eat squirrels?"

Shadow shot him a glare. "Despite what you may think of me, I'm not some feral animal."

Tom put his hands up defensively, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Alright, alright, no offense. Just trying to figure out the survival plan here. And hey, for what it’s worth, Ozzy and I probably wouldn’t have found you if he hadn’t decided to bolt. So, thanks, I guess?"

Shadow frowned, glancing briefly at Ozzy, who had stopped growling but still eyed him warily. "I don’t need to be found," he said flatly. "I’ve managed just fine on my own."

Tom shook his head, his initial shock giving way to curiosity. "Look, I get the whole lone wolf thing, but seriously—living in the woods isn’t exactly a five-star experience. You know Sonic’s going to lose his mind when I tell him about this, right?"

Shadow tensed at the mention of his blue counterpart, his expression hardening. "You don’t need to involve him—or anyone else, for that matter. I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need time."

"Time for what?" Tom pressed. "To play cryptid in the woods?"

Shadow’s gaze flicked to the ground, his jaw tightening. "That’s none of your concern."

"Okay," Tom said after a pause, his tone softening.

He studied Shadow for a moment, the tension between them palpable. The black hedgehog clearly wasn’t used to anyone poking into his business, and he knew pushing him further might make things worse. Still, he felt that he couldn’t just walk away without doing something.  

“Alright,” Tom said at last, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I won’t press. You’re clearly going through... whatever this is. But if you’re gonna stick around out here, you’re gonna need supplies.”  

Shadow frowned, his arms crossing defensively. “I don’t need your supplies.”  

Tom let out a dry laugh, fishing into his bag with his good hand. “Yeah, well, tough luck. Maddie’s taught me a thing or two about stubborn people, and guess what? I don’t take no for an answer when it comes to helping someone who’s clearly struggling.” He pulled out a granola bar and a small water bottle, holding them out toward Shadow. “Here. Take this, at least.”  

Shadow hesitated, his crimson eyes darting between Tom and the offered items. His pride was clearly warring with practicality. After a long pause, he finally reached out, taking the granola bar and water without a word.  

“Good,” Tom said with a satisfied nod. He then unwound the scarf from around his neck, ignoring the chill that immediately bit into his skin. “And take this, too. Nights out here get cold.”  

Shadow stared at the scarf like it was some kind of alien artifact. “I don’t need—”  

“You do,” Tom interrupted firmly. “Trust me, frostbite isn’t fun. Just take it, alright? Humor me.”  

Reluctantly, Shadow accepted the scarf, draping it loosely around his neck. Tom couldn’t help but smirk at how odd the hedgehog looked in the plaid fabric. “There. Now you look at least ten percent less intimidating.”  

Shadow gave him a flat look but didn’t respond.  

“Look,” Tom continued, his tone softening, “I don’t know what you’re dealing with, and I’m not gonna pretend to. But you don’t have to do it all alone, but if you need a hand, I don’t mind. I'm not even mad about the whole nearly killing me twice thing.”  

Shadow’s eyes narrowed slightly at the word, but he didn’t argue.  

Tom took that as a small victory. “Alright. I’ll be back tomorrow with more supplies. Food, maybe a blanket or two. If you want to talk, great. If not, no pressure. Just don’t disappear on me, okay?”  

Shadow said nothing, his gaze drifting to the ground.  

Tom sighed, turning to climb back up the ridge. Ozzy bounded ahead, glancing back at him as if to say: Are we done here?

Before Tom could leave, Shadow’s quiet voice stopped him.  

“Why?”  

Tom turned, puzzled. “Why what?”  

“Why are you helping me?” Shadow asked, his expression guarded but his voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity. "You could have been dead right now because of me."

Tom smiled faintly. “I'm a big believer in forgiveness.”  

Shadow didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on Tom as the man climbed back up the ridge, Ozzy faithfully at his side.  

As Tom made his way back through the woods, he glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting Shadow to vanish like a ghost. But the black hedgehog remained where he was, the scarf now wrapped a little more snugly around his neck.  

Tom smiled to himself, his steps a little lighter despite the ache in his arm. “One step at a time,” he muttered, heading home.

Chapter Text

Tails settled into the cozy, slightly cluttered bedroom he shared with Sonic and Knuckles. His twin tails curled around his chair as he powered up his tracking device, the soft hum of its interface soothingly familiar. He clicked on Tom’s signal, relieved to see the small dot indicating his location on the map. It hovered in the forest, moving at a slow, steady pace.

“Looks like he’s sticking to his promise,” Tails muttered to himself, glancing toward the door. The house was quiet, save for the faint murmur of Maddie cleaning up downstairs.

Satisfied, Tails leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “Nothing to worry about,” he murmured, though he kept one ear perked just in case.

A few minutes passed uneventfully. Then, without warning, the tracker’s signal began to shift.

At first, it moved slightly—nothing unusual for someone walking their dog. But then the dot began to jump erratically, darting back and forth across the screen at impossible speeds.

“What the—?” Tails straightened in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he tapped the monitor. The signal stuttered, shooting across the map and doubling back, as though whoever wore the scarf was running circles around the forest at breakneck speed.

Tails’ mind raced. He adjusted the device’s calibration, thinking it might be a glitch, but the erratic behavior continued. The dot now moved so quickly it blurred, covering distances in mere seconds.

“That’s not possible,” he whispered.

His first thought was Sonic. The blue hedgehog was the only one who could move like that. Tails swiveled his ears, listening intently for any sound of Sonic sneaking out of the house. But all he heard was the faint hum of the heater and Maddie moving about downstairs.

To be sure, he got up and called down from the open attic door.

“Sonic?”

There was a shuffle of movement downstairs, followed by Sonic’s unmistakably casual voice. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Tails exhaled in relief, his tails drooping slightly behind him. “Nothing, just checking in.”

“Cool. Don’t forget, it’s your turn to clean the room!” Sonic called back in a teasing tone.

Rolling his eyes, Tails closed the door and returned to his desk, but the relief was short-lived. He stared at the screen, dread creeping into his chest. The signal was still behaving erratically, the movement far too fast and chaotic for Tom—or anyone else without superhuman abilities.

Tails frowned, his sharp mind working through the possibilities. Could it be interference? A technical malfunction? But he’d designed the tracker himself; it was calibrated to near perfection. And the way the signal moved didn’t feel as random an error would have made it out to be. There was enough of a noticeable pattern there.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to alert Maddie. She was already worried enough about Tom, and the last thing she needed was to panic over a tracker behaving strangely. But the unease in Tails’ gut refused to settle.

“Something’s wrong,” he muttered, his blue eyes narrowing as they flicked between the bouncing dot and the surrounding map.

"Father?"

Knuckles stood at the edge of the porch, arms crossed, watching as Tom tried—and failed—to hoist himself through the back window.

“What are you doing?”

Tom froze, one leg awkwardly dangling inside the house while the rest of his body remained outside. His jacket was smeared with mud, and there was a very noticeable twig stuck in his hair. Slowly, he turned his head to see Knuckles staring at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Uh… this isn’t what it looks like,” Tom said sheepishly, attempting to pull himself back outside. His muddy boots slipped on the windowsill, and he landed on the ground with a dull thud.

Knuckles tilted his head, clearly unimpressed. “It looks like you’re breaking into your own home.”

Tom sat up, brushing leaves off his sleeves. “Okay, maybe it is what it looks like. But it’s for a good reason.”

Knuckles raised both eyebrows now. “And what reason might that be?”

Tom sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Maddie explicitly told me not to overdo it while my arm’s healing. If she sees my muddy jacket and hears about me falling into a ditch…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Let’s just say I’d rather avoid the lecture.”

Knuckles frowned, processing this. “So, rather than walk through the front door like a civilized being, you thought climbing through a window was the best solution?”

Tom shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Knuckles glanced at the muddy mess on Tom’s jacket and then at the open window. “Clearly, your strategy needs work.”

Tom groaned, pulling himself to his feet. “Look, can you just help me out here? If Maddie asks, you didn’t see anything, alright?”

Knuckles raised a brow, crossing his arms again. “You want me to lie for you?”

“Not lie,” Tom corrected quickly. “Just… omit certain details.”

Knuckles stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I cannot lie to my mother."

Tom winced, knowing well that Knuckles' moral compass was as unyielding as a granite wall. “Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands defensively. “No lying. But maybe you could just... not say anything unless she asks?”

Knuckles tilted his head, considering. “That is acceptable,” he said, his tone grave, as though weighing a monumental decision. “However, you will owe me a favor in return.”

Tom groaned. “Why does everyone in this family trade favors like they’re currency?”

Knuckles crossed his arms, his expression unrelenting. “It is only fair, Father. Your dishonorable attempt at sneaking must be counterbalanced by an act of honor in my name.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. What do you want?”

Knuckles’ eyes lit up. “Grapes.”

Tom blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly. “Grapes? That’s your big favor?”

Knuckles nodded solemnly. “Not just any grapes. The finest, juiciest grapes the local market has to offer. Seedless, of course. The green kind. I have developed a taste for them thanks to Wade."

Tom stared at him, caught between disbelief and amusement. “And that's it? Nothing more?”

Knuckles’ expression didn’t waver. “It is a small price to pay for my silence, Father. Grapes are the fruit of champions. I require sustenance befitting a warrior.”

Tom sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. Grapes it is. But you’d better not tell Maddie about this.”

Knuckles nodded, his expression serious. “Your secret is safe with me, provided my standards are met."

Tom groaned again, brushing off the last of the dirt from his jacket. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Knuckles stepped aside, making a sweeping gesture toward the back door. “Perhaps. But I am also honorable. Now, shall we enter the house like civilized beings, or do you intend to continue your undignified escapades?”

Tom wasn’t sure whether to feel reassured or insulted by that, but he didn’t have time to argue. 

He scrubbed at the mud on his jacket, his thoughts drifting to Shadow. The whole situation felt like a minefield waiting to explode, and he wasn’t sure he had the tools to defuse it. From everything he had been told, it was clear that Shadow was not just another lone alien they could bring home. He was dangerous, unpredictable—and worst of all, it had been rather apparent for quite sometime that Maddie, despite never having said anything directly, did not exactly have the highest opinion of the hedgehog.

Tom paused mid-scrub, the faint sound of Knuckles laughing a bellowing laugh in the house reaching his ears. Keeping Shadow in the house, especially with Knuckles’ protective and suspicious nature and Sonic’s inability to move at anything less than a hundred miles per hour, was a disaster waiting to happen.

That was all assuming that he would ever even be able to get Shadow to come back with him.

No, he needed a plan. A place. 

Something out of sight but not too far away. Somewhere Shadow could stay without drawing attention while he figured out what next to do with the hedgehog.

He frowned, his mind piecing together fragments of old memories. Then it hit him: Sonic’s old cave.

It wasn’t too far from the house, tucked into the woods and shielded by dense foliage. Sonic hadn’t used it in ages—not since he’d moved in with them. It was private, isolated, and close enough that he could keep an eye on things.

Tom nodded to himself. It was the best option for that very moment. Maddie did not need anymore stress added to her life and neither did Shadow. If he could keep him under wraps until he figured out something just slightly more practical, he supposed that he would be able to make things a lot easier for everyone.

Later that evening, the dining table was abuzz with chatter and laughter as the family gathered for supper. Sonic and Tails were already seated, eagerly piling food onto their plates, while Maddie brought out a fresh basket of bread. Tom slid into his chair, freshly cleaned and wearing a decidedly less muddy jacket, though his movements were a bit stiff.

“You’re late,” Sonic teased, his mouth half-full of mashed potatoes. “What were you doing, wrestling raccoons in the backyard?”

Tom shot Knuckles a wary glance. The echidna was seated beside him, stabbing at his food with an intensity that suggested he was battling an internal struggle. 

“Something like that,” Tom said casually, reaching for the bread. “How was your day, Sonic?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual,” Sonic said, waving a fork. “Saved a cat from a tree, stopped Carl from stepping into one of his traps, played a little baseball. Same old, same old.”

Tails chuckled. “And by played a little baseball, he means he spent three hours hitting home runs against himself.”

“Hey, it’s called practice!” Sonic retorted. “You never know when I’ll need to hit a bomb to save the day.”

Knuckles, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.

“Knuckles?” Maddie asked, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

Tom tensed, gripping his fork tightly. He shot Knuckles a look. 

Don’t you dare. We had a deal.

Knuckles hesitated, his face a conflicted mix of determination and turmoil. Finally, he said, “Father and I… discussed training.”

Tom exhaled quietly, relieved. “Yep, just a little father-son bonding.”

Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “Training? With your arm like that?”

Tom gave a nervous laugh. “Not actual training, just, uh, planning for when I’m all healed up.”

Knuckles visibly tensed, the battle inside him far from over. He opened his mouth again, but Tails interrupted, sending an unreadable look in the direction of his dad.

“So, Knuckles, are you going to show us that new move you’ve been working on? You were bragging about it last week.”

Knuckles snapped his mouth shut, turning to Tails with a grateful nod. “Indeed. It’s a spinning hammer strike that combines speed and power.”

Sonic leaned forward, grinning. “Ooh, sounds fancy. Can we see a demo after dinner?”

Knuckles nodded solemnly. “Of course. A warrior must always hone his skills.”

Maddie seemed satisfied with the change of subject, but she still gave Tom a pointed look. “And no sparring until your arm is fully healed, okay?”

“Promise,” Tom said quickly, flashing her his most disarming smile.

Knuckles glanced at Tom, exhaling in relief when Maddie returned her attention to her dinner. 

The rest of dinner passed in a lively but slightly tense atmosphere. Tom kept an eye on Knuckles, who had thankfully shifted his focus to regaling the table with tales of his training exploits. Sonic eagerly chimed in with his own dramatic—and often exaggerated—stories, while Tails quietly observed, occasionally sneaking glances at Tom as if gauging his mood.

After the meal, Sonic and Knuckles bolted outside, eager to test out the spinning hammer strike under the glow of the backyard floodlights. Maddie stayed behind to clear the table, and Tails took the opportunity to linger with Tom in the kitchen.

"Hey, Dad," Tails said softly, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. "You seemed a little... distracted tonight."

Tom glanced up from where he was wiping down the counter. "Distracted? Me? Nah, just thinking about work stuff."

Tails frowned, clearly not convinced. "Work stuff doesn’t usually involve you sneaking in through windows."

Tom froze mid-wipe, shooting Tails a look. "You saw that?"

Tails shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I was waiting for you to get back and then I heard you outside." His voice dropped, laced with curiosity and concern. "What’s going on, Dad?"

Tom sighed, setting the cloth aside and sitting down. He considered brushing it off, but he knew Tails was too smart for that. "It’s complicated," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "There’s someone I need to help, but it’s not exactly a simple situation."

Tails tilted his head, realization slowly coming to his eyes. "Someone? Like Sonic or..."

"Do me a favor and don't tell Maddie."

"I didn't even know he was still alive."

"Neither did I, Ozzy just happened to come across him."

Tails's brow furrowed in thought. "So what's he doing out there then. And why'd you give him your scarf?"

"So far as I can tell, he just so happened to crash land behind in the woods and that's where he's been hanging out ever since," Tom said thoughtfully and then shifted his head to one side. "How did you know I gave him my scarf?"

Tails noticeably winced and then smiled with a mixture of anxiety and sheepishness. "Don’t get mad, but I might have secretly put a tracker in there—but it was with Mom's blessing!"

"Just when I thought she trusted me," Tom muttered, pressing a hand to his face. "Tails, I’m not even mad. I’m just… not surprised."

Tails kept up his apologetic smile. "It was a precaution! You know, just in case something ever happened to you."

Tom shook his head, muttering, "Next time, a heads-up would be nice."

"So," Tails said suddenly, his eyes narrowing in thought. "You gave him your scarf?"

"It’s on him, yeah," Tom confirmed.

"Which means if someone else has the tech to pick up that signal and assuming he doesn't want to be found, we’re going to have a problem," Tails said and then immediately perked up. "I can fix that! I’ll recalibrate the signal so it’s scrambled. Nobody else will be able to detect it unless I want them to."

Tom gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, bud. Better to be safe than sorry."

Tails nodded, already formulating a plan in his head. "So, what’s the game plan? Are we keeping him nearby, or…?"

Tom leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "I’m thinking of putting him in Sonic’s old cave for now. It’s out of sight, close enough to check on him, and honestly, I think he’d prefer being alone. For now anyway."

Tails hesitated. "Do you think that’s a good idea? Leaving him out there alone? He’s, uh, never seemed to be very stable."

"That’s part of the problem," Tom admitted. "He’s been through a lot. I can see it in his eyes—he doesn’t trust anyone. The last thing he needs is to be overwhelmed by all of us at once."

Tails nodded thoughtfully, his tails swishing behind him. "Alright, but if you need any help with him, just let me know. I’ll start working on the tracker tomorrow."

Tom smiled, ruffling the fur atop Tails’s head. "Thanks, kiddo. You’re a lifesaver."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"He won't hurt you again, will he?"

Tom froze at Tails' question, his hand lingering on the edge of the table. He looked into his son's eyes, seeing genuine concern behind the young fox's sharp intellect. Tails wasn't just asking out of curiosity—he was worried. 

Tom sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "No, bud. I don’t think he will." His voice was steady but soft, hoping to reassure. "He's... different now. I can see it. He’s not the same hedgehog who fought Sonic or caused all that trouble."

Tails frowned, his ears twitching. "But what if you’re wrong? What if he’s just pretending, and he tries to hurt you—or Sonic—or all of us?"

Tom reached across the table, placing a firm but gentle hand on Tails’ shoulder. "I get it. I really do. It’s scary, isn’t it? Thinking about what could go wrong. But I don’t think he’s pretending. I think he’s just lost, Tails. Lost and scared, like anyone would be after everything he’s been through."

Tails hesitated, his small hands gripping the edge of his chair. "But what if he doesn’t want our help? What if we can’t trust him?"

Tom thought carefully before answering. "If he doesn’t want help, I won’t push him. But I think he does, even if he doesn’t know how to say it yet. And trust... well, trust has to start somewhere, doesn’t it? Someone has to take the first step."

Tails looked down, his tails curling around his legs. "I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. You or Mom, or anyone."

Tom smiled warmly, ruffling Tails’ fur again. "I know, bud. And I promise, I’ll be careful. I won’t let him hurt me—or any of us. But we can’t just turn our backs on him. Everyone deserves a second chance."

Tails nodded slowly, though his expression remained uncertain. "Okay... but if you need help, you’ll tell me, right? No secrets?"

Tom chuckled softly. "No secrets. You’ve got my word."

Tails managed a small smile, his trust in his dad outweighing his lingering fears. "Alright. I’ll get started on scrambling that signal first thing tomorrow. And maybe... I can figure out a way to track his vitals, too. You know, just in case."

Tom grinned. "That’s my genius inventor. Thanks, Tails."

As Tails hopped off the chair and headed toward his workshop, Tom leaned back, letting out a slow breath. He knew Tails was right to be cautious, but something told him this was the right thing to do. Shadow wasn’t just a problem to solve—he was someone who needed help. 

And Tom was determined to help him, no matter what it took. 

He trailed behind Ozzy the next day, the dog a necessity both for convincing Maddie to let him out of the house as well as to track down the spot where he'd last seen Shadow while Tails worked on encrypting the signal to the tracker.

The morning air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of damp leaves as Tom trudged through the woods. Ozzy led the way, nose to the ground, tail wagging with enthusiasm. Tom, on the other hand, found himself far less eager. His arm still ached, though he’d promised Maddie he wouldn’t push himself. Yet, in the middle of pushing himself he was, sneaking off to deal with the fallout of harboring a possibly international fugitive.

“Come on, Ozzy,” he said with as much encouragement as he could while stepping over a moss-covered log. “You sniffed him out once. Do it again.”

Ozzy barked in response, his ears perking up as he darted toward a cluster of trees. Tom followed, brushing aside low-hanging branches and muttering under his breath about the absurdity of his life. In his free hand was a small rucksack of supplies which he thought might be of use to Shadow.

Tom trudged through the dense underbrush, his boots squelching in the damp earth as Ozzy zigzagged ahead. The dog’s enthusiasm for the chase had yet to wane, but Tom’s patience was wearing thin.

“Ozzy,” he groaned, brushing a thorny branch out of his way. “This is the fourth time we’ve passed that rock. You sure you’re not just leading me on a nature walk?”

Ozzy responded with a sharp bark, his tail wagging furiously as he veered off toward another thicket of trees. Tom sighed, following his canine companion deeper into the woods. He wasn’t sure what he’d say to Shadow when he found him—if he found him. The hedgehog was far from seeming approachable and did not strike him as the type who would be willing to hold a conversation for very long.

Tom paused to catch his breath, leaning against a tree. His arm throbbed beneath its sling, and he could feel the dull ache spreading through his shoulder. He glanced around, half expecting Shadow to emerge from the shadows like some vengeful ghost.

“Well, this is just great,” he muttered. “Sneaking around like I’m in some bad spy movie—”

A sudden rustle of leaves cut him off. He straightened, his eyes scanning the woods. “Ozzy?”

The dog was nowhere to be seen. The rustling grew louder, coming from behind him now. Tom turned, his heart pounding.

“Ozzy?"

Tom pushed through the dense bushes, his heart hammering in his chest as he prepared for anything—anything except what he actually saw.

There, in a small clearing bathed in dappled sunlight, stood Shadow, neck still draped in his scarf. The hedgehog was crouched low, his crimson eyes fixed on Ozzy. One gloved hand rested on the dog’s head, gently scratching behind his ears. Ozzy, for his part, looked utterly content, his tongue lolling out as his tail thumped against the ground.

“Well, this is new,” Tom muttered, stepping into the clearing.

Shadow’s head snapped up, his expression hardening in an instant. Any tenderness was gone, replaced by a sharp glare. Ozzy, oblivious to the tension, gave a happy bark and trotted over to Tom, tail wagging.

“You again,” Shadow said flatly, rising to his full height. He crossed his arms, the air around him suddenly charged with tension. “What do you want?”

"I said I would be back didn’t I?"

He held up the rucksack. 

“I brought you some supplies. Thought you might need them.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, suspicion written all over his face. He didn’t move, his posture rigid as he studied Tom like a hawk watching its prey.

Tom sighed, crouching to set the rucksack on the ground. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, and I get it. But you’re not exactly in a position to be picky right now.”

Shadow said nothing, his gaze flicking between Tom and the rucksack. After a long moment, he stepped forward—slow and deliberate in his movements. 

He stopped a few feet away, his crimson eyes boring into Tom’s. 

He reached for the rucksack, pulling it toward him with deliberate care. 

He unzipped it, his sharp eyes scanning the contents: bottled water, bandages, some protein bars, a flashlight, and a small blanket.

"Hmm," Shadow hummed.

"See?" Tom reasoned. "I'm just trying to help. You already took my scarf didn’t you?"

Shadow looked at him intently and then reached for Tom’s scarf, unfastening it from his neck. "I don’t appreciate being tracked."

"Being—wait, how did you know?"

"Gerald had one just like this," he said, turning the scarf inside out for Tom to see. "It emits a sharp ring when the speeds it's exposed to exceeds three hundred miles per hour."

"I see," Tom nodded and then chose his next words cautiously. "And you're not angry?"

"If I were angry, you would be dead right now."

Shadow turned away from him, a flash of disappointment in his eyes as he let the scarf fall to the ground.

"But you did seem trustworthy. It seems I have poor judgment in everything. On who's behalf are you working? GUN?"

Tom hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in Shadow’s tone. The hedgehog’s posture remained tense, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered on the ground that suggested weariness rather than hostility.

“I'm not working for anyone,” Tom began carefully, taking a small step closer, “I didn’t put the tracker in the scarf. My kid did. Tails just wanted to make sure I was safe.”

Shadow’s ears twitched at that. He glanced at Tom from the corner of his eye but didn’t respond.

"I get it,” Tom said, voice calm and clear. “You’ve got no reason to trust me. And after this... well, I wouldn’t trust me either. But I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t know about the tracker, and I wouldn’t have given you that scarf if I did.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t say a word, but the slight tilt of his head suggested he was at least listening.

“Do you really think I’d go through all this trouble to help you, just to turn around and betray you?” Tom pressed. “If I wanted to sell you out to GUN, I wouldn’t be trudging through the woods with a bum arm and a dog.”

Shadow’s gaze flickered to Ozzy, then back to Tom. His fists unclenched, but his posture remained guarded.

Tom bent down and picked up the scarf, holding it in his hands for a moment. He could feel the weight of Shadow’s gaze on him, sharp and watchful. The rustling of the leaves seemed to pause as the two of them stood there in the clearing, the tension thick between them.

“I get why you’re upset. Anyone else would probably feel the same way."

Tom took a tentative step closer, holding the scarf higher.

"Take it back. If you want, I’ll destroy the tracker myself, right here, right now. Just take it, please."

A tense silence hung between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Shadow finally stepped forward, his movements deliberate. He didn’t reach for the scarf, though. Instead, he stood there, at first waiting and then watching as Tom slowly began to tie it back around his neck.

He half-expected Shadow to pull away or stop him, but the hedgehog remained still. When he was done, he stepped back, giving Shadow some space.

“There,” Tom said, his tone light and tinged with relief. “Good as new."

Shadow’s gloved hand rose to touch the scarf, his fingers brushing against the fabric. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, just a fraction.

“Come on. I’ve got a place for you to stay.”

Shadow stiffened. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Tom said firmly. “It’s pragmatism. You can’t keep wandering around out here by yourself especially when god knows who might be breathing down your neck. And trust me, this place is safe. No one’s used it in years.”

Shadow hesitated, weighing his options. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he followed as Tom led the way deeper into the woods. 

“I still don’t need your help either.”

“I didn’t ask you to need it,” Tom replied. “But it’s here if you ever do. No pressure.”

"Hmph."

"I probably should let you know that Tails knows about you."

Shadow’s footsteps halted, and Tom turned to find the hedgehog standing still, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. His voice was low, sharp. “The fox?"

Tom held up his free hand, palm out. “Before you freak out, I didn’t tell him much."

Shadow’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression unreadable. “And what exactly did you tell him?”

“Just that you’re... well, alive,” Tom said carefully. “I told him not to mention anything to Sonic, Knuckles or Maddie."

Shadow’s eyes narrowed further, and for a moment, Tom thought he’d overplayed his hand. But then the hedgehog crossed his arms. "Okay."

"Okay? You’re fine with that?"

"If you consider him trustworthy."

Tom raised an eyebrow at Shadow's unexpected response. "Yeah, I do," he said.

After several minutes of trekking through dense foliage, they arrived at the entrance to Sonic’s old hideout—a literal hole in the ground.

They jumped in one after the other, Shadow’s quills bristled as he took the space in.

His sharp eyes scanned the hideout, the dim light filtering through the narrow entrance illuminating the space. It was sparse and rudimentary, carved out of the earth with junk scattered about every corner.

Shadow crouched, his crimson eyes narrowing as he inspected the hideout. He ran a gloved hand over some of the rusted signs hastily put up against the walls, brushing away years of neglect. The dim light flickered over his quills as he straightened, glancing back at Tom with an unreadable expression.

“This was Sonic’s?” Shadow asked, his voice low and edged with something Tom couldn’t quite place.

Tom leaned against the entrance, letting Shadow take it all in. “Yeah, this is where Sonic used to live,” he confirmed after a moment. “He didn’t need it after we took him in, so it’s been sitting here ever since.”

Shadow turned to him, questions on his tongue. “He lived here? Alone?”

“For a long time,” Tom confirmed, crossing his arms. “He had to stay hidden. Sonic thought these echidna warriors from another world were out to get him, so he made this place his sanctuary. No one ever found it until he accidentally let the government know he existed."

"And he survived? On his own?"

Tom gave a small, rueful chuckle. “You’d be surprised what that kid’s capable of whenever he's not talking your ear off."

Shadow’s attention shifted to a mural on the wall. It was crude but vibrant and certainly comprehensible, painted with a mismatch of acrylic, emulsion and oil paints. The largest figure was a brown owl, one wing spread protectively around a much smaller blue blur that could only be Sonic, the other holding a flower.

“Longclaw,” Tom explained softly, following Shadow’s gaze. “She was Sonic’s caretaker. Protected him, taught him just a little bit about himself... gave her life to keep him safe.”

Shadow’s face darkened, a faint flicker of emotion crossing it, but quickly vanishing. He stepped closer to the mural, tracing the edge of the owl’s painted feathers with a gloved hand.

“She died?” Shadow asked, his voice quieter than usual, though the sharp edge of skepticism was still there.

Tom nodded. “She sent Sonic here to protect him from those echidnas. She didn’t make it out, but Sonic made a home for himself here. It took a while and more than a little bit of spying on me and Maddie, but eventually fate seemed destined to pull us all together.”

Shadow straightened, his hand falling to his side. “He lives with you. You took him in.”

“That’s right,” Tom said simply. “We became his family. He’s part of our lives now.”

Shadow didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the mural. “Family,” he muttered, more to himself than to Tom. “He barely belongs, but he trusts you.”

Tom shrugged. “Took a while. Or scratch that, he kind of already knew everything about me, but for the most part, trust isn’t something you can rush. It’s earned, not demanded. And after what we went through together, I think it's fair enough to say that I earned his trust.”

Shadow’s gaze flicked to him. After a long moment, he turned away and moved to the far side of the hideout.

“I’ll stay here,” he said. “For now. Until I find somewhere to belong.”

Tom nodded, relief flickering across his face. “Fair enough. I’ll bring more supplies when I can.”

Shadow didn’t reply, his attention already elsewhere as he clutched his scarf in both hands. Tom lingered for a moment, watching the black hedgehog settle into the remnants of someone else’s sanctuary.

"Tomorrow," Tom said, looking to the exit. "I'll be back tomorrow."

Chapter Text

Tom had quickly gotten into the rhythm of stopping by Shadow’s hideout every day. He kept his visits casual, never staying too long or prying into the hedgehog’s business. Little as he knew of him, Shadow didn’t seem like the kind to appreciate small talk—or any talk, for that matter—but he also didn’t kick Tom out. That was progress, the sheriff figured.

On the fifth day, Tom brought a thermos of coffee and an extra sandwich. He set them down on a crude metal tin they had both half cleaned, trying not to notice the faint layer of dust settled quite firmly on everything else.

"Figured you’d want something besides energy bars,” Tom said, not expecting a response.

Shadow glanced at the sandwich but didn’t move to take it. “I don’t want,” he said flatly, his tone making it unclear if it was a compliment or an insult. "The last thing I ever ate was revenge guac."

Tom looked at him strangely. “You'll have to show me how to make that sometime.”

The silence that followed wasn’t anything new nor was it in anyway as uncomfortable as it had been the first few days. Tom leaned against the wall, sipping his own coffee, while Shadow fiddled with the nunchucks he’d found in the hideout. He’d taken to using them during Tom’s visits, the rhythmic clicks of wood on wood filling the space as Shadow easily worked through a series of complex movements.

“You’re pretty good with those,” Tom commented.

Shadow didn’t stop, the nunchucks blurring as he spun them in a tight figure-eight. “They’re primitive. But in the right hands, would dispatch of anyone.”

“Yeah, I think they were intended to be some sort of home security system. I guess sometimes simple is better.” Tom gestured at the mural on the wall. “Sonic probably used to think that way too. Then he discovered chili dogs, and it was all downhill from there.”

Shadow’s movements faltered for just a moment, his expression shifting into something that might have been confusion—or disdain. “Chili dogs?”

Tom grinned. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Shadow set the nunchucks down with a sigh. “I’m not here to indulge in your strange customs."

Tom’s smile faded slightly. “Yeah, about that..." 

"What do you want? What can I do for you?" he wanted so badly to ask, the hedgehog coming off as nothing but hopelessly unreadable.

"... I've been thinking of letting a few more people other than Tails and Ozzy know you’re alive and healthy."

Shadow's crimson eyes narrowed sharply, his entire posture tensing. “You’ll do no such thing,” he said coldly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Tom raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright. I figured you’d say that, but hear me out. Maddie and Knuckles—they’d want to help you. Heck, Sonic’s been buzzing about you ever since I woke up. They’re good people, Shadow. They’d never sell you out.”

Shadow’s glare didn’t soften. “The fewer who know about my whereabouts, the better. Trusting anyone is a liability I can’t afford.”

"You've trusted me until now."

Shadow’s gaze sharpened, his arms crossing as he leaned back slightly, his quills bristling. “Trusting you is a strong word, Sheriff. I tolerate your presence because you’ve yet to betray me. That’s not the same as trust.”  

Tom nodded slowly, as if he had expected the response. “Fair enough. But you’ve let me stick around. That’s more than you’ve given anyone else.”  

Shadow didn’t reply, but his silence was telling.  

Tom sighed, leaning against the wall. “Look, I get it. You’ve got every reason to keep your guard up. But there's also a lot of people apart from me who would care about what happens to you if they knew you were alive."

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “No one would care except for GUN and that would only be so that they'd be able to throw me back into the same prison they kept me all those years.”  

“Fair point but I was thinking care more in the look after and provide kind of way,” Tom countered. 

"Caring is nothing more than the same weakness that trust is." Shadow’s voice was low, almost bitter. “Do you think this is some fairy tale, where everyone just gets along and everything works out in the end? I’ve seen what happens when you get complacent. It can only ever end in one way—with pain.” 

Tom didn’t flinch at those words. Instead, he stepped forward, resolute in making his point known. “You’re not wrong. Trust and care—they both come with risks. But it also comes with rewards. Maddie and I took a risk in trusting Sonic, then caring for him and he’s changed our lives for the better. And Knuckles? He's got his quirks, sure, but he'd go to the ends of the earth for the people he cares about. And I’ve got a hunch he'd do the same for you if he got to know you.”  

Shadow scoffed. “There’s nothing about me worth knowing that would change either of their minds.”  

“There’s plenty to know,” Tom insisted. “And right now, they know you’ve got a good heart and they know you gave your life to save the world. That’s all they need to know as far as trust is concerned."

For a moment, Shadow looked like he might argue. But instead, he turned away, his shoulders as stiff as the scarf around his neck. “This discussion is over.”  

Tom didn’t push further. Instead, he grabbed his thermos and the empty sandwich wrapper, giving Shadow a small nod. “Alright. I’ll leave it alone for now. But think about it, okay? You don't have to be alone forever.”  

He had done his utmost best to emphasize that last point. Sometimes sneaking out the house numerous times a day to give the otherwise lonely hedgehog some company. 

At the very least, with a way to keep track of Shadow twenty four seven, he never had to worry about the hedgehog vanishing without a trace or risk showing up to an empty cave whenever Shadow did venture out into the surrounding area.

"Any movement?"

"Nope," Tails answered, studying the screen of his laptop. "He’s still at the cave. Looks like he’s been there all day."

"Must be one of those days then, I'd better go check to see if he's doing okay."

Tails looked up from his laptop, his twin tails twitching slightly. “Are you sure? You’ve been checking in on him a lot, Dad. Maybe he just needs some space.”

Tom shook his head, already grabbing his coat. "He gets plenty of space on his own when I'm not there."

Tails tilted his head, his concern evident. "I get that..."

"But?"

"Maybe too much attention'll just make him pull away even more."

Tom paused by the door, considering Tails’ words. “You’re probably right. But I’m not exactly crowding him. I drop by, make sure he’s eating, sleeping, whatever else he needs to stay alive, say a few words and let him be. That’s it. I've got a way with hedgehogs remember?”

Tails frowned, his tails flicking in slow, thoughtful motions. “Yeah, but Shadow seems like the polar opposite of Sonic. Would he ever even trust you?"

Tom leaned against the doorframe, sighing. “It’s not about trust. I know he can technically take care of himself, but he shouldn’t have to do it all alone. Everyone needs someone, even him.”

"Well... if you’re sure."

"Always am bud," he said, offering Tails a wink before preparing himself to leave, first by pulling on his coat and then by grabbing Ozzy from where the dog had been peacefully dozing off. 

He stopped briefly in the kitchen and after only a moments hesitation, he grabbed a bag of popcorn and shoved it into his pocket, certain that no one would miss it even as it bulged from his jacket. It was something, maybe not as good as whatever revenge guac was, but until Shadow or the internet shared the secret formula with him, popcorn would have to do.

"Another walk?" Maddie asked before he could leave. She was looking at him questioningly.

"Oh," Tom said casually, forcing as much of a chuckle as he could. "You know how Ozzy is, always ready to go exploring."

She looked down at the golden retriever who, contrary to Tom’s description, appeared absolutely spent for the day.

Maddie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Uh-huh. And I’m supposed to believe Ozzy’s the one dragging you out at this hour? He looks like he’d rather hibernate.”

Tom scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. “Well, you know, exercise is important. For both of us.”

Maddie sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Tom, you’ve been disappearing a lot lately. And you’re far from subtle about sneaking snacks and goodness knows what else out with you. What’s going on?”

Tom hesitated, his mind racing for a plausible excuse. “It’s... just a work thing. Checking on something off the record. Nothing to worry about.”

Maddie’s skeptical expression deepened. “You’re not scheduled to go back to work until two weeks from now, remember? Wade has everything under control. So spill it, what’s got you acting so secretive? Are you lying to me about something?”

Tom exhaled, knowing she wouldn’t let him go anytime soon unless he came up with something plausible enough to meet her strict standards. He set himself down at the table, directly across from her and lowered his voice. “I would never lie to you."

"But we both know you wouldn't tell me something you know I'd want to know." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Where's your scarf?"

Tom blinked, caught off guard by the question. “My scarf?” he echoed, stalling for time.

“Yes, your scarf,” Maddie said firmly, her arms crossing. “The one you always wear when you’re out in the cold. It’s not by the door, and it wasn’t in the car or in your closet. So where is it?”

Tom opened his mouth to respond but quickly realized he didn’t have a good answer. It was of course, still with Shadow, the hedgehog making good use of it seeing as how it had regularly been wrapped around his neck. He couldn't tell that to her of course and so he quickly turned the tables, figuring that a rushed guilt trip was the best he had.

"The one you and Tails put a tracker in under my nose?"

Maddie threw her hands up, exasperated, but stuttered in surprise, trying to find her words. "Oh, come on, Tom. Don’t try to turn this around on me. You’ve been sneaking around, disappearing at all hours while all injured, I just wanted to make sure that—" She stopped mid-sentence. "Wait. How do you know there’s a tracker in your scarf? Unless..."

Tom cursed inwardly, realizing that the turns had in fact tabled. "It’s not what you think," he said quickly. "I mean, I found the tracker. It wasn’t exactly hidden all that well, you know? But that’s beside the point."

Maddie tilted her head, crossing her arms again. "Really? Because it seems like the point is, you’ve been lying to me about where you’ve been going. And now you’re deflecting because you got caught. According to Tails, all's clear, but we both know how bad Tails is at telling a lie and I'd rather not scare our kid. So Tom, do tell, where is your scarf?"

"I fed it to a wild animal," he said impulsively. 

Maddie stared at him, her expression shifting from skepticism to outright disbelief. “You fed your scarf to a wild animal?” she repeated, her tone dripping with incredulity.

Tom winced. "Okay, that came out wrong. What I meant was... listen, Maddie, it’s complicated."

Maddie raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Complicated how?”

"I just don’t want you worrying alright?"

Maddie let out a sharp breath, crossing her arms tighter. “Tom, the only thing making me worry is you acting all shady and secretive. You've left me no other choice. So why don’t you start explaining before I call Tails and ask him to track that scarf right now in front of us both?”

Tom groaned inwardly, knowing he was cornered. “Okay, fine,” he said, leaning forward, his voice low. “But you’ve got to promise not to freak out.”

Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “That depends on how freak-worthy it is.”

“It’s not that bad,” Tom insisted quickly. “Just... mostly unusual.” He glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers, then finally admitted, "I—"

"You told her that you nearly got eaten by a bear?"

Shadow stared at him in bewilderment.

Tom groaned, rubbing his temples as he sat on the floor of Shadow's hideout. "Look, it was the first thing that came to mind, okay? I panicked. Maddie was this close to calling Tails to track the scarf," he said pinching his thumb and index fingers together to emphasize his point. "What was I supposed to do? Tell her I’ve been spending my afternoons with the reclusive hedgehog who borrowed it?"

Shadow folded his arms, looking at him with an unimpressed expression. "You could have simply told her you dropped it."

Tom groaned again, shaking his head. "I don’t think you understand. Maddie can smell a lie a mile away. If I’d said I dropped it, she’d have grilled me until I cracked. At least the bear story has... a shred of excitement to it.”

Shadow’s expression didn’t change. “Excitement doesn’t equal believability, Sheriff.”

Tom slumped against the wall, exhaling loudly. “Yeah, well, too late for that now. She bought it—kind of. Mostly. Okay, not really, but at least it bought me some time. Especially when Sonic and the others got involved and she could forget about interrogating me for a while."

"You nearly got eaten by a bear?"

Sonic gaped.

Tom sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “No, Sonic. I didn’t nearly get eaten by a bear. That was just the excuse I gave Maddie because she was onto me about sneaking out so much.”

Sonic tilted his head, clearly still processing. “So... no bear?”

“No bear,” Tom confirmed, trying to keep his patience intact.

Tails, who had been tinkering with a small gadget nearby, glanced up. “But why would you even say that? There are, like, no bears around here. Are there?”

Knuckles crossed his arms, frowning. “There actually are. But they’re hibernating this time of year. So under that logic, Father, your story falls apart under scrutiny.”

“Thanks for that Knuckles," Tom deadpanned.

Knuckles nodded, clearly not picking up on the sarcasm. “You may be welcome Father.”

Sonic zipped over, his arms crossed and his foot tapping rapidly against the floor. “Okay, so spill it. What’s really going on? Maddie’s worried, Ozzy looks like he’s ten years older than he actually is, and now you’re telling wild animal stories? What are you hiding?”

Tom hesitated, glancing between them. Tails looked back with a hopeless shrug. 

He knew well that he could not keep dodging the question forever, especially not with Sonic’s persistent curiosity. “It’s not what you think,” he said finally. “I’m—"

"You told them that you've been... going on a spiritual journey?"

Shadow stared at him, still bewildered.

Tom threw his hands up in exasperation. "What else was I supposed to say? They were all over me like flies on a picnic! Maddie’s suspicious and Sonic kept giving me that disappointed look, like I kicked a puppy because he can't stand when I try keeping something from him. You should have seen how hard it was to keep his Christmas present a surprise. I had to think fast."

Shadow crossed his arms. "And spiritual journey was your answer?"

Tom pointed at him. "Hey, you’re not the one dealing with this circus. You don’t know what it’s like. One person in that house gets suspicious, and suddenly everyone’s asking questions. Do you know how hard it is to lie to someone who can literally read my heart rate with their ears?"

“And your solution to that problem was to sound like Juan from La Última Pasiòn? A shell of a man fighting for a woman that does not belong to him?”

"Not sure what that has to do with anything," Tom said, slumping back against the wall of the hideout. "But it worked. Him and Knuckles were weirdly supportive." 

"Namaste."

"Uh what?"

Sonic straightened back up from where he had been bowing. "You know that I would support you in anything Donut Lord."

Knuckles scratched his chin thoughtfully in between a mouthful of grapes. "I could train you in Echidna focus techniques. We sit in caves for weeks at a time, contemplating the meaning of strength. It builds discipline."

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep a straight face. “Knuckles, as tempting as that sounds, I don’t think I’m ready for Echidna meditation techniques.”

Knuckles nodded sagely. “It’s not for everyone. It requires patience, resilience, and the ability to survive on nothing but moss and rainwater for days.”

Sonic gave him a wide-eyed look. “Wait, is that why your breath sometimes smells like a swamp?”

Knuckles puffed out his chest proudly. “It is the smell of dedication.”

“More like the smell of desperation,” Sonic muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Knuckles.

Tom held up a hand, cutting them off before their banter could spiral out of control. “Look, I appreciate the support—really—but I’m fine. No caves, no moss, and definitely no rainwater. Just... let me do my thing, okay?”

Sonic tilted his head, studying him carefully. “Alright Dad, but if you’re ever in trouble or, I don’t know, need backup, you’d tell us, right?”

Tom forced a grin, giving Sonic a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Of course, bud. We're all family here. I’d never keep anything big from you.”

Knuckles nodded approvingly. “Good. Secrets only weaken the tribe.”

Tails, who had been quiet up until now, finally chimed in with a nervous laugh. "Yup, better to always tell the truth."

He and Tom shared a look while Sonic and Knuckles went back to debating health and hygiene so far as drinking rainwater was concerned.

Shadow was silent. Then, to Tom’s surprise, the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I should be flattered you’ve gone to such lengths to keep my existence a secret.”

"You’re welcome."

"I never said thank you."

Tom let himself relax, catching his breath after recounting his latest round of excuses. "You know," he said, casting a sidelong glance at Shadow, "this whole double life thing would be a lot easier if you just let me tell them the truth. You’re alive, you’re fine, and you’re not plotting world domination. Wouldn’t that be simpler?”

Shadow didn’t answer immediately. He stared into the dim light of the hideout, the faint glow of his crimson eyes the only sign of life. Finally, he spoke, his tone as flat as a poorly told joke. “Simpler, yes. Safer, no.”

Tom exhaled heavily. “You’re really not making this easy for me, you know that?”

“I never asked you to do any of this,” Shadow replied pointedly.

Tom chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t. But here I am anyway. Guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

Shadow didn’t reply, but his silence was far from hostile. If anything, it felt contemplative.

Tom shifted his weight, his voice turning a little softer. “For someone who claims not to care about what people think, you sure seem invested in staying off the radar. Almost like you’re afraid of what they’d say.”

Shadow’s gaze snapped to him, sharp and defensive. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Relax, I didn’t mean it like that,” Tom said, holding up his hands. “I just meant... maybe you don’t want to deal with the comparisons.”

“Comparisons?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, gesturing vaguely. “To Sonic."

Shadow’s posture stiffened, and Tom could see the faintest flicker of something in his expression—irritation, perhaps and most likely.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shadow said infusing as much frost into his tone as possible. “Why would I care about that?"

Tom smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because every time I bring up Sonic, you get all prickly. Like right now.”

“I do not,” Shadow said quickly.

“You do,” Tom said, grinning now. “I mean, come on. It’s okay to admit you’re a little jealous.”

Shadow’s quills bristled, and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I feel no such thing."

Tom laughed, a warm, easy sound that seemed to catch Shadow off guard. “Alright, sure. Whatever you say, buddy. But just so you know, there’s enough of me to go around.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tom shrugged, his grin softening into something more genuine. "It means you don’t have to compete or try to change who you are for my attention. Sonic’s Sonic, and you’re… you. Different, yeah, but in a good way. You’ve got your own thing going. People might actually like you if you gave them half a chance.”

Shadow’s skeptical expression didn’t falter, but he didn’t interrupt, so Tom pressed on.

“You’re not as scary as you think, you know. You’re more like… an angry cat. Scratchy, but kind of endearing once I got past the hissing.”

Shadow gave him a look. “An angry cat? That’s what you think of me?”

“Well, yeah,” Tom replied, unfazed. “Sonic’s more like a golden retriever—loud, happy, a little too much energy. Tit for tat with Ozzy really. But you? Definitely a cat. All broody and independent, but deep down, you kind of like having people around, or me at least. You’d just never admit it.”

Shadow looked at him for a long moment, and Tom could almost see the gears turning in his head. Then, to his surprise, Shadow scoffed softly—a sound that might have been mistaken for a laugh if it weren’t so restrained.

“You have a peculiar way of looking at things,” Shadow said, shaking his head slightly.

“Hey, somebody’s got to keep things interesting around here,” Tom said with a wink. "Well I'm off. Hope you enjoy the popcorn. It's movie night back at home."

Shadow glanced back at the bag of popcorn Tom had left on the metal tin which had unofficially become his home's table. His eyes flickered toward the hole in the ceiling where Tom was preparing to leave. After a moment, his voice cut through the quiet. “What are you watching?”  

Tom paused, halfway out the door, a smirk tugging at his lips. He turned back slightly, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, just The Princess Bride. Maddie loves it, and Sonic won’t stop quoting it, neither will Knuckles. Something about true love and fencing.”  

Shadow raised an eyebrow, his stoic demeanor firmly intact. “Sounds trivial.”  

Tom chuckled. “Maybe, but it’s a classic. Got sword fights, revenge, and a guy in black who’s way too good at climbing cliffs. You’d probably like it.”  

Shadow made a noncommittal sound, clearly trying not to show interest. “Hmph. I doubt it.”  

Tom shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you ever change your mind, we're not moving anytime soon.” He gave a quick wave and turned to leave.  

As Tom made his way up the stone they had erected to make entry and exit easier, he found himself slipping. He yelped, stumbling forward, arms flailing, but doing nothing to prevent the crash on the ground.

“Sheriff!” Shadow’s voice was sharp with alarm, and before Tom could react, the hedgehog had bolted to his feet. He fumbled with the sling on his arm, his movements uncharacteristically frantic. “Stay still! Are you injured?”  

Tom groaned theatrically as he pushed himself up, brushing dirt off his jeans. “Oh no, my heroic savior!” he said with exaggerated dramatics. “Whatever shall I do without your assistance?”  

Shadow froze, his crimson eyes narrowing as he realized he’d been had. “You’re fine,” he stated flatly, his tone laced with irritation.  

Tom grinned, wiggling his arm for emphasis. “Yep. Doc says I’m officially on the mend. Small bumps like that don’t bother me anymore.”  

Shadow glared at Tom with a mixture of irritation and mild embarrassment. “If you’re healthy enough to make jokes, you’re healthy enough to leave without causing a scene.”

Tom laughed, brushing off the remaining dirt as he stood up fully. “Oh, come on, Shadow. Don’t tell me you weren’t at least a little worried.”

“I was not,” Shadow replied curtly.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that? Almost as bad as me.”

He started back up the stone to lift himself out, calling over his shoulder. “I'll bring popcorn if there's any leftover. Maybe I’ll bring the movie too. Who knows? You might enjoy it.”  

Shadow didn’t respond, but as Tom disappeared from sight, his gaze lingered on the bag of popcorn. He shook his head, muttering to himself. “Ridiculous.”  

Chapter Text

The idea had first come to him during one quiet and uneventful afternoon.

Tom had been sitting cross-legged on the floor of Shadow's hideout, absently tossing a small rubber ball against the wall and catching it on the rebound. Shadow, perched on a crate, was polishing his well-worn nunchucks with meticulous care. The room was unusually silent, the only sounds being the faint singing of the birds in the forest and the soft thud of the ball.

"So," Tom began casually, breaking the silence, "ever had a hobby? You know, besides glaring at people and spinning those sticks like a ninja?"

Shadow’s crimson eyes flicked up to him briefly, then back down to his nunchucks. “I fail to see the relevance of that question.”

"Just curious," Tom said with a shrug. "Everybody’s got something. Maddie likes yoga and everything to do with animals. I’ll do anything with wood if you put a hammer and a drill in my hands. Knuckles picked up bowling from Wade, Tails is a tech genius, Sonic has... well, chili dogs and speed. So what about you? Anything you used to enjoy before this?" He gestured vaguely around the room.

Shadow paused for a moment, his hand stilling on the nunchucks. “There was one thing,” he said quietly, almost as if the words were being pulled from him against his will. “But it wasn’t mine.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Shadow’s gaze grew distant, his tone softening in a way that was almost imperceptible. “Maria had a guitar. She used to play it when we sat under the pillow fort we built in her room. It was the best place to be after a long day of testing.”

Tom blinked, caught off guard by the sudden openness. “A pillow fort? In a secret research station? That’s... kind of adorable.”

Shadow didn’t respond to the comment, his expression unreadable. “She called it our little sanctuary. When the world outside felt too big or too cruel, we’d go there and she’d play.”

Tom leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What kind of songs did she play?”

Shadow hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as if the question had brought him out of his reverie. “I don’t remember,” he said curtly, his voice losing its softness and regaining its usual guarded tone.

Tom frowned. “You don’t remember? Or you don’t want to remember?”

Shadow’s jaw tightened, and he turned away, picking up the nunchucks again. “It doesn’t matter,” he said flatly. “The past is irrelevant.”

Tom sighed, recognizing the walls going back up. “Shadow...”

“This conversation is over,” Shadow interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. The rhythmic clack of the nunchucks filled the room once more, a clear signal that he wouldn’t entertain further discussion.

Tom leaned back, watching him quietly. He’d caught a glimpse of something rare—a sliver of vulnerability, a memory that Shadow clearly held dear despite his insistence otherwise. But pushing too hard would only make him retreat further.

And so he laid off and pretended to forget about it. 

"I guess our conversation is over, but," he paused, producing a small, slightly shabby ventriloquist puppet, "you really haven't said much to Little Tom since I introduced the two of you."

Shadow grunted, already annoyed.

In a higher-pitched voice, Tom made the puppet speak, its mouth flapping in time. "Boy, you sure are broody. What’s your secret? Do you drink extra-dark coffee, or are you just allergic to flashing any smiles?”

“I refuse to engage with this nonsense.”

The whole matter was a small thing really, something insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nevertheless, the idea had certainly been planted.

"You still own that old thing?" Maddie asked, her voice tinged with surprise as she walked into their bedroom, pausing to take in the sight of the guitar Tom had laid across the bed. Its once-polished wood was now dulled by a fine layer of dust and the strings looked loose and slightly rusted from years of neglect.

"Yeah," Tom replied, brushing some of the dust away with his sleeve. "Got it back in college if you remember. Back when I thought I could be the next big thing."

"Spoiler alert: You weren't," Maddie said with a chuckle, leaning against the doorframe. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you play it outside of that one time you asked me out. Why now?"

Tom hesitated for a moment, his hand resting on the neck of the guitar. "It’s... for a project. Or maybe a gesture. Not sure yet, but mostly just something special."

Maddie tilted her head, intrigued. "A gesture, huh?"

Tom glanced up at her with a sheepish smile. "Yeah, you know, something to maybe help someone. How's work been?" he asked to change the subject.

"Uneventful. Someone did bring a dog in for eating a whole bag of old Halloween candy, but we got it sorted out easily enough.” 

Maddie gave him a knowing smile, clearly aware of his deflection but choosing not to press further. 

“So, what’s the plan with this mysterious gesture? You gonna serenade somebody?”

Tom chuckled, plucking one of the strings experimentally. The dull, off-key twang made him wince. “Not exactly. I just thought... maybe it’d be nice to bring a little music into someone’s life. Shake things up a bit. I just need to figure out something to play.”

"Well, if you need any suggestions..."

She slid next to him on their bed, one hand slinking to his thigh.

"... I do still remember that song you played when you asked me out."

"That lyrical masterpiece? Let me see if I can remember it."

He fiddled with the chords for a moment and then struck an A major before beginning to sing.

Tom cleared his throat dramatically and strummed the guitar with exaggerated flair, his voice taking on a faux-serious tone.

“Oh Maddie, Maddie, you’re so fine,

Will you go out with me sometime?

I’ll make you laugh and make you grin,

Just say yes now and let our love begin.”

Maddie burst into laughter, covering her mouth as she shook her head. "I cannot believe you actually sang that. You were so nervous back then too."

Tom grinned, continuing to strum lightly. “Hey, don’t knock on my parade. It worked, didn’t it?”

“Only because you looked so earnest. I figured anyone willing to embarrass themselves like that, at least deserved a chance.”

“Embarrass myself?” Tom feigned offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, that was the work of a true artist.”

“Sure Shakespeare,” Maddie teased, nudging him playfully.

"You think that was good? I still remember the chorus."

Tom cleared his throat again, adopting an overly dramatic expression as he launched into the chorus with exaggerated gusto.

“Oh Maddie, Maddie, you’re the one,

You make my days so bright, my sun.

Say yes and we’ll have fun,

Together forever, our love has just begun.”

Maddie doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh my gosh, stop! I can’t breathe! I can’t believe I said yes to that!”

Tom smirked, setting the guitar down with a flourish. “What can I say? I’m irresistible. Even back then, I had a way with words.”

Maddie shook her head, still giggling. “It’s a miracle you didn’t scare me off entirely. But... I guess it’s part of your charm.”

“Part? Just part?” Tom teased, leaning closer to her.

“Okay, fine, it’s all of your charm,” Maddie conceded with a mock exasperated sigh. She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. "I'm sure whoever this mystery person you need to help is, they'll appreciate whatever you come up with."

Tom leaned into her kiss, his hand slipping to her waist and pulling her closer. Maddie responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair as their kiss deepened, as electric as it was all-consuming. The guitar, forgotten, teetered on the edge of the bed before finally sliding off with a soft thud onto the carpet beneath the bed. Neither of them noticed.

Her lips parted, inviting him further in and Tom obliged, his movements fueled by a passion that felt both familiar from the past and new given that his arm felt like a million bucks post recovery. Maddie’s hands roamed from his hair to his shoulders, then down his chest, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull him even closer. Tom’s pulse quickened, his senses filled with the warmth of her touch, the faint scent of her perfume, and the soft sound of her breath mingling closely with his.

“Maddie...” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough and full of need. She didn’t answer, only guiding him to lay on the bed, her weight pressing down on him as her passion for him grew hungrier.

“You’re supposed to be working on your... gesture,” she whispered between kisses, her voice teasing but breathless.

“This is part of it,” Tom replied with a grin, his hands sliding up her back and drawing her closer. “You’re my inspiration.”

Maddie laughed softly, her breath warm against his neck. “Flatterer.”

Tom didn’t deny it, his lips trailing along her jawline, then down to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Maddie shivered, her nails grazing his skin as she pulled him tighter against her. The world outside their room disappeared, leaving only the heat between them.

Their movements became a synchronized dance of urgency and tenderness, each touch, each kiss, stoking the fire between them. It was distracting enough to almost appear choreographed. 

Not until much later, when they lay tangled together under the sheets, did the guitar—lying forlornly on the floor—cross either of their minds again.

"Hey Maddie?" Tom asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"Mhm?" she responded in between rubbing soothing circles on his chest. 

"That day. When I got attacked by Shadow. Do you remember it?"

Her answer took some time to arrive, the only indication that she was still awake being her hand on his chest.

"I remember being scared—terrified really. I remember getting in that ambulance with you while you were out. I remember looking back at the boys and seeing how petrified they looked. I should have reassured them—I wanted to, but I had no idea what to say. I didn’t know how to tell them that it wasn't their fault. That you wouldn't blame them. Maybe I was too scared to say anything."

She moved her hand from his chest to his chin and tilted it so that he was looking at her.

"Most of all, I remember being angry at him. At Shadow. I remember nothing more than wanting to wring his neck or at least to see Sonic or Knuckles do it."

Tom studied Maddie’s expression, her brow furrowed as though the memory still clung to her. He could see the conflict there—love for him, fierce and protective, mixed with the deep frustration and fear that the moment had quite certainly etched into her heart.

“I don’t blame you for feeling that way,” Tom said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Are you still angry?"

"At him? No... or yes... I—it's complicated."

"How so?"

"Well, everything Sonic told me has given me a new perspective and he did sacrifice himself to save the world so that has to count for something, but... god Tom, you could have died that day."

Tom reached out, his fingers intertwining with Maddie’s. "I know, Maddie. Believe me, I’ve thought about that day more times than I can count. But I didn’t die. I’m still here.

Maddie sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she rested her head on his chest again.

"Looking back," he said, "you know what I see in him? Underneath all that power?"

"Hmm?"

"I see a kid who doesn't really know who he is and where he belongs. Like how Sonic used to be—only with more scars, less laughter, and a whole lot more weight on his shoulders."

Maddie was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing idle patterns against Tom’s skin. “I don’t know that I ever would have been able to forgive him, but it's a shame that he's gone. I'll never get the chance to try."

Tom smiled faintly, his thumb brushing across Maddie’s hand. “I bet he'd be glad to hear that."

"Yeah I bet."

They lay in silence for a long while, the world outside their room still forgotten, as they simply existed together, allowing the peace of the present to settle between them.

"What do you mean you haven't heard of Not Like Us?"

Sonic looked up at Tom entirely flabbergasted, tapping one foot against the soft mat of the living room.

Tom rolled his eyes at his son's theatrics. "Pardon me for not keeping up with the latest in pop culture. But humor me, this Not Like Us—is that a band, a song, or a TikTok dance I should know about?”

Sonic gasped, clutching his chest dramatically as if he'd been personally offended. “It’s only the hottest track of the year! It’s been everywhere for months now! You’re seriously out of the loop Dad.”

Tom chuckled. “Clearly. Alright, enlighten me, oh great connoisseur of modern music."

Sonic zoomed across the room, grabbing his phone from the counter and hopping onto the couch in one fluid motion. “Okay, first of all, it’s not just a song. It’s an event. Second, it’s Kendrick’s comeback track, and third—it’s basically him roasting Drake. And it’s the best diss track ever released!”

Tom blinked, his face blank. “Roasting… Drake? As in the rapper? Why?”

Sonic stared at him, wide-eyed. “You don’t know about the beef? Where have you been? Living under a rock?”

“Close,” Tom quipped. “It’s called adulthood."

Sonic sighed dramatically and threw himself back against the cushions. “Okay, okay, let me break it down for you. So, Kendrick and Drake have had this rivalry for years, right? But things got spicy when Kendrick dropped a verse on Control years ago, calling out every rapper, including Drake. Fast forward, and Drake gets all sensitive about it, and now Kendrick’s latest track is basically him saying, 'I’m better than you in every way, and here’s why.’”

Tom scratched his head. “So… it’s like a musical argument?"

“Exactly!” Sonic exclaimed, pointing a finger. “And Kendrick absolutely destroys him. You’ve got to hear the lyrics. It’s like poetry, but with a flamethrower.”

Tom shook his head, grabbing his guitar from the corner. “I think I’ll stick to something a bit more classic. Got any other suggestions that don’t involve me getting dragged into the rap wars of the century?”

Sonic tapped his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm… what about Bohemian Rhapsody? Or—oh! Smells Like Teen Spirit? Those are classics, right?”

Tom strummed a random chord, wincing at how off-key it sounded. Although the idea of playing a Nirvana track like Something in The Way did amuse him somewhat.

“A little ambitious for someone who hasn’t played in years, don’t you think?”

“Okay, fine,” Sonic said, zipping over to sit cross-legged in front of Tom. “How about something chill? Like… Wonderwall. Isn’t that the go-to song for dads with guitars?”

Tom groaned. “If I play Wonderwall, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Sonic grinned, wagging a finger. “And that, my dear father, is exactly why you should do it. But if not that then how about Die with A Smile?"

"... can't say I've ever heard of that one."

"APT?"

Tom's silence was telling.

"After Hours?"

"Isn’t that a movie?"

“Alright, you’re hopeless!” Sonic called over his shoulder, vanishing into another part of the house. “Good luck with your midlife music crisis, Donut Lord!”

"Thanks!" he called back.

Tom stared at the guitar, strumming a few more times and grimacing as the dissonant notes rang out. "Why does this sound like a dying cat? I don't remember it being this bad." He sighed, shaking his head as he plucked the strings one by one, trying to pinpoint the problem.

Tails and Knuckles chose that moment to walk into the living room. Tails carried a notebook under one arm, while Knuckles casually popped a few grapes into his mouth from a small bowl.

“Hey Dad,” Tails greeted, his eyes immediately locking onto the guitar. “Oh wow, what happened to that thing?”

Knuckles raised an eyebrow, munching on a particularly large grape. “It appears to have seen better days. Did Sonic break it?”

“No, no,” Tom replied, setting the guitar down on his lap. “I was just trying to play something, but it sounds awful. I’m starting to think one of the strings might be busted.”

Tails walked over and leaned in, examining the guitar closely. “Hmm, I think I see the problem. This string—” He pointed at the high E string. “—is too thin. Did you replace it recently?”

Tom frowned, scratching his head. “I… honestly don’t remember. It’s been sitting in the corner of my closet for years.”

“Well, this one’s definitely the wrong gauge,” Tails said confidently. “It’s meant for a different type of guitar. No wonder it sounds off. I can fix it if you want."

Tom handed over the guitar with a look of relief. “Be my guest. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

As Tails carefully examined the strings, Knuckles lazily tossed a grape into the air and caught it in his mouth. "You could always play The Warrior for Shadow."

Tom froze, staring at Knuckles as if the echidna had just sprouted a second head. “Wait. What did you just say?”

“I said, you could always play The Warrior for Shadow. That is my jam.”

Tom’s eyes darted to Tails, who was still focused on the guitar. “Tails?” he asked.

Without looking up, Tails quickly replied, “Nope. Don’t look at me. I didn’t say a word.”

Tom whipped his head back to Knuckles, pointing an accusing finger. “Then how—how do you know?”

"You reek of him."

Tom blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “I reek of him?”

“Yes,” Knuckles said. "Shadow has an unmistakable scent to any who pay attention."

Tom shot another glance at Tails, who finally looked up, an awkward smile on his face. “He’s not wrong,” Tails admitted sheepishly. “Echidnas do have a weirdly good sense of smell. And memory.”

Knuckles jabbed a thumb at himself. “Exactly. I notice everything. Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast.”

Tails smirked, clearly unable to resist. “Knuckles, you’re like a net trying to catch water—stuff still gets through even when you think it doesn’t.”

Knuckles frowned, his brow furrowing as he processed the metaphor. “Wait, what does that mean? Nets don’t catch water. Water just… goes through them.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “Of course. Of course you know. Why wouldn’t you? Just do me a favor and don't tell Sonic and especially do not tell your mother.”

Knuckles chewed slowly, narrowing his eyes. "More lies?"

"I'll get you more grapes."

"Deal."

Tails tightened the last string. He plucked it gently, nodding in satisfaction. “There. Should sound much better now.”

Tom took the guitar back and strummed a chord. The sound was smooth and harmonious, no longer resembling a dying animal. “Wow, Tails. You’re a lifesaver.”

Tails beamed. “Anytime. Just make sure to replace the strings properly next time.”

“Noted,” Tom said, testing out a few more chords. 

From somewhere upstairs, Sonic’s voice echoed: “PLAY WONDERWALL!”

"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out how to play something other than Wonderwall.”

For once he did not need to take Ozzy with him. 

Getting out of the house without arousing Maddie’s suspicions did still require some maneuvering seeing as it was late and he had a guitar in his hand, but using Wade and his broken down car was plenty enough of an excuse for him to drive away and park not too far from the house before delving into the woods with a flashlight.

Tom adjusted the pillows, additional ones he was certain Maddie would not miss, under one arm while clutching the guitar in his other hand. The flashlight's beam danced across the dense foliage as he stepped carefully over roots and stones, the night alive with the hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. He was well on his way to his destination, the hideout having unofficially been dubbed the “Shadow Cave” thanks to its current occupant.

After a few more careful steps, the familiar jagged hole marking the entrance to the cave came into view. Tom paused, shining the flashlight down into the hollow space below. It was a bit of a drop, but he'd done it before without incident. Still, a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he wasn't exactly in his prime anymore.

“Alright, Tom,” he muttered to himself. “You’ve got this. Just bend your knees when you land. Easy peasy.”

But just as he shifted his weight, readying to jump, a faint sound came from behind him—a whisper of movement that froze him in place. He turned sharply, the flashlight darting over the trees.

“Hello?” he called, trying to keep his voice steady. "Who's the—"

A flash of light later and he was suddenly standing in the cave.

“What the...” Tom began, startled.

Shadow stood a few feet away, arms crossed and expression unreadable. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep jumping in like that,” he said flatly.

Tom blinked, adjusting to his new surroundings. “Shadow, you scared the daylights out of me! Couldn’t you give a guy a little warning?”

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one sneaking around in the middle of the night. Should I have sent an invitation?”

Tom sighed, setting the pillows and guitar down on a flat rock. “Alright, fair point. But for the record, I wasn’t sneaking—I was being discreet.”

“Discreet," Shadow repeated, more than a little sarcasm in his voice.

Tom brushed off the comment and glanced around the cave. 

It had changed a good amount since Shadow had first moved in.

His eyes wandered over the cave, taking in the subtle yet noticeable changes that had occurred since Shadow had taken up residence. Most of Sonic’s old knick-knacks and junk—broken springs, random scraps of metal, and a pile of faded, impossible to read comics—had been cleared out, save for one thing: the mural of Sonic and Longclaw on the far wall. That remained untouched and sacred.

Strings of cheap Christmas lights hung in loose loops across the rough walls, their bulbs a muted rainbow that managed to soften the cave’s otherwise harsh and moss-covered interior. A small solar-powered night light sat near the makeshift sleeping area, glowing faintly even now, casting long shadows across the uneven ground. The sight of it made Tom smile; he’d only bought it after Shadow had let slip—entirely by accident—how Maria’s room had always been softly lit, the warm glow comforting her during long nights in a top secret research facility.

Stickers dotted the walls, and though they seemed haphazard, Tom recognized some sort of pattern. Stars, moons, planets, and the occasional comet—a quiet homage, perhaps, to the view Maria and Shadow had shared once upon a time, staring out at the cosmos when they had nothing else to do. He’d found those stickers in the bargain bin at a craft store, and while Shadow hadn’t outright requested them, his silent approval had been unmistakable when Tom presented them.

Tom chuckled quietly to himself. 

Shadow was terrible at asking for things. Everything dotted around had been pieced together from half-muttered comments or rare moments of vulnerability that slipped through the cracks in his stoic demeanor. Tom had to listen carefully, picking up on the details Shadow didn’t even realize he was sharing.

“You’ve made this place pretty cozy,” Tom remarked, glancing at Shadow. “Almost feels like home.”

Shadow followed his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. “It’s functional,” he said, the smallest hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice.

“Come on, admit it,” Tom teased. “You like it.”

Shadow crossed his arms again but didn’t reply.

Tom grinned, picking up his guitar. “Alright, Mr. Functional. I didn’t come all the way out here to argue about your decorating skills. I came to give you a taste of some real music.”

He flashed the guitar with a grin plastered on his face.

Shadow only raised an eyebrow.

Tom settled the guitar back down on the flat rock, brushing some dirt off his hands as he turned to Shadow with a gleam of mischief in his eye.

“Now,” Tom began, gesturing to the pillows under his arm, “before we get to the music, I have a proposition. Humor me for a second.”

Shadow's eyebrow rose higher, clearly skeptical. “If this involves anything ridiculous—”

“Ridiculous? No,” Tom interrupted, holding up a hand as if offended. “Ingenious? Absolutely. We, my nocturnal friend, are going to build the most epic pillow fort this cave has ever seen."

Shadow stared at Tom, his expression unreadable. The faint light from the solar-powered nightlight caught the sharp lines of his face, giving him an almost statuesque appearance. For a long moment, he said nothing, his crimson eyes flicking to the pile of pillows and back to Tom. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost hesitant in the way the words needed to be pushed out.

"You don't have to try to replace her."

Tom’s smile faltered for just a moment at Shadow’s quiet words. He lowered the pillow he had been about to toss, the humor in his posture softening into something more careful.

“I’m not trying to replace her,” Tom said gently. “I know I couldn’t, even if I tried. Maria was special to you. This is just me being a goofy human trying to make your cave feel a little less like a cave.”

Shadow’s gaze lingered on him, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Tom wasn’t sure if he’d overstepped. But then Shadow exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“It’s fine,” Shadow said at last, though he still sounded weary. “Maria used to think doing this was fun."

Tom’s grin returned, softer this time. “Well, then we’re doing it in her honor. And trust me, I'm sure she’d approve of your engineering skills.”

Shadow rolled his eyes but crouched down beside Tom, picking up a pillow. “If I agree to this,” he said, deeply serious, “we do it properly.”

“That’s the spirit!” Tom said, clapping him on the back. “Now, let’s get to work.”

Shadow approached the task with a methodical efficiency that bordered on military-grade. Every pillow was placed with care, each angle checked and double-checked. Tom, on the other hand, worked with enthusiastic chaos, tossing pillows and adjusting them on the fly.

“This isn’t a battle plan, you know,” Tom joked as Shadow repositioned a lopsided corner for the third time. “It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Structural integrity matters. Otherwise, it will collapse.”

Eventually, the fort took shape—a sprawling structure of pillows and blankets that stretched across one corner of the cave. Shadow even added a tower by stacking a few extra pillows in the middle, and Tom couldn’t resist adding his flashlight at the top as a makeshift beacon.

“Behold!” Tom announced, stepping back to admire their work. “The Great Pillow Fortress of—uh—Caveton? Shadowsville?”

Shadow gave him a deadpan look.

“Fine, fine,” Tom conceded, ducking into the fort. “How about we call it the Fortress of Solitude? You know, like Superman’s place.”

Shadow hesitated, then followed Tom inside, settling down cross-legged beneath the ceiling of blankets. The space was small but cozy, the faint glow of the flashlight casting soft shadows on the walls.

Tom leaned back against the pillows, a satisfied grin on his face. "Well now that we're all settled in." He pulled his guitar back up to his side. "Any requests? I couldn't really think of anything to play on the way over."

Shadow sat quietly, his eyes fixed on the fort’s soft ceiling of pillows and blankets. “None,” he said after a moment, his voice as calm and steady as ever.

Tom smiled faintly. “Fair enough. I’ll just play whatever comes to mind.”

He adjusted his guitar, fingers brushing lightly over the strings, producing a soft, aimless melody. The notes drifted into the still air of the cave, mingling with the gentle hum of night outside. It wasn’t any particular tune at first—just a simple, soothing rhythm that filled the silence without breaking it.

Shadow didn’t speak. He sat with his arms loosely crossed, gaze occasionally flicking to Tom but more often remaining unfocused, as if listening to something far away.

Tom’s hands moved instinctively, his strumming slowly coalescing into a melody he hadn’t intended to play but couldn’t seem to stop. The notes were soft, familiar, yet slightly off—a fragmented lullaby that seemed to hang suspended in time between the George Harrisons, Jeff Lynnes and Roy Orbinsons of the world.

Shadow’s ears twitched, his attention sharpening. His posture straightened with an intensity that startled the older man.

Tom glanced at him briefly but said nothing, letting the tune speak for itself. The music carried on, gentle and deliberate, an unspoken story in its rhythm. Shadow’s expression shifted—his usual stoic mask cracking to reveal something vulnerable, almost childlike. His lips parted slightly, gaze unblinking as if the melody was tugging at some long-forgotten memory buried deep down within.

“Do you know this song?” Shadow asked finally, his voice softer than Tom had ever heard it.

Tom shook his head slowly, not breaking the rhythm. “Not really. It just came to me. Maybe it’s something I heard once and forgot about.”

Shadow’s gaze lingered on the guitar, his eyes shimmering faintly in the dim light. There was wonder in his expression, mixed with something far deeper—adoration, perhaps, or a quiet yearning. The faint glow of the flashlight caught the sharp angles of his face, softening them in a way that made him seem almost unguarded.

Tom didn’t comment, didn’t interrupt. His fingers danced over the strings, repeating the tune until the last note faded into the stillness of the cave.

When Tom looked up, Shadow’s expression was distant, his thoughts seemingly far from the makeshift fort and its human companion. He stared at the floor, his features caught in a rare moment of openness, as though he were somewhere else entirely.

Tom didn’t press him. Instead, he set the guitar aside and leaned back against the pillows, giving Shadow the space he seemed to need. The only sound was the faint rustle of leaves above ground.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shadow spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "There wasn't much music there. Only whatever Maria had. She always complained about the records that she didn’t have. Something about that super man you mentioned earlier and a man called Jim."

Tom's brow furrowed thoughtfully, and then his face lit up with recognition. "Jim? Superman? Sounds like classic Jim Croce to me. That's good taste.”

Shadow said nothing as the man reached for his guitar again. With a quick adjustment of the strings and a deep breath, Tom strummed the opening chords, his voice warm and cheerful as he sang the first lines:

"Uptown got its hustlers, the Bowery got its bums…"

The lively rhythm bounced off the cave walls, filling the space with an infectious energy that seemed to momentarily brighten the dim confines of the pillow fort. Tom swayed slightly as he played, his grin widening with each line.

"And they say you don't tug on Superman's cape

You don't spit into the wind…"

Shadow’s ears twitched, and though his expression refused to give anything away, he was lightly bobbing his head side to side—a subtle but undeniable sign of enjoyment. His gaze lingered on Tom, more than a little curiosity in it's intent.

Tom noticed and leaned into the performance, exaggerating the strum of his guitar and throwing in a playful wink.

"You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger,

And you don't mess around with Jim."

He finished with a flourish, letting the final chord echo before fading into the hum of the night. Tom leaned back triumphantly, his grin still plastered across his face. “What do you think? Not bad for an impromptu cover, right?”

Shadow stared at him for a long moment. Then, to Tom’s surprise, the hedgehog gave the faintest of nods, his lips curving ever so slightly upward. "Again?"

Tom’s grin widened at the request, the subtle curve of Shadow's lips feeling like a small but significant victory. “You got it,” he said, adjusting the guitar in his lap. “One encore of Jim Croce, coming right up.”

He strummed the opening chords again, the melody filling the cave with its warm, lively energy. Shadow remained seated, relaxed, but focused intently on Tom, as though he were studying every note and word.

This time, Tom leaned into the rhythm even more, tapping his foot against the ground and swaying with the beat. He added a bit of flair to his strumming, his voice taking on an almost theatrical quality as he sang those familiar lines:

"Uptown got its hustlers, the Bowery got its bums..."

By the time he reached the chorus again, Tom caught Shadow's ear twitch once more, the slight upward curve of his mouth returning. It was a small reaction, but it felt monumental enough.

As the song ended with another flourish, Tom let the final chord linger, watching Shadow closely. “Well?” he asked. “Am I hired as your personal musician yet?”

Shadow tilted his head slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was still soft. “Thank you.”

Tom glanced at him with a gentle smile. “Anytime, bud."

Chapter Text

The first time it became readily apparent to Tom that Shadow might be prepared to move beyond the cave was on a warm day spent outside.

It was a regular Wachowski tradition to play a game of baseball every Saturday. With Tom’s arm healed up, he, Maddie, Sonic, Tails and Knuckles had went out to throw a few balls.

The sun hung high in the sky as Tom adjusted his cap, watching Sonic step up to the pitcher's mound with all the confidence in the world. 

"Alright, get ready to witness perfection," he declared, spinning the baseball on his fingertip.

Knuckles, crouched in the batter’s stance with their wooden bat, snorted. "Perfection? You could not hit the side of a barn if it was five feet in front of you Brother."

“Hey, I’m pitching!” Sonic shot back, tapping the ball against his glove. “And for the record, I’ve got the speed and precision of an MLB pro.”

Knuckles straightened, his brow furrowing. “Who is MLB? Are they part of the Toronto Bluebirds?”

Tom, stationed as catcher, blinked in surprise. “You mean the Blue Jays?”

“Not Bluebirds?"

Maddie, watching from the sidelines with a bemused smile, called out, “Maybe we should focus on the game?”

But the echidna was already waving her off. “No, no, this matter must be settled. The Bluebirds are superior to the New York Skyscrapers.”

“It’s Yankees!” Sonic corrected, spinning on his heel to face Knuckles. “And for your information, the Mariners are way better than your Blue... uh, Birds. Even Tails agrees!”

Tails, busy fiddling with his baseball cap, looked up in alarm. “Wait, I didn’t say anything—”

“See?” Sonic cut him off triumphantly.

Knuckles gripped his bat tighter. “Oh, please. I am certain you do not even know how many World Serials they have won.”

“It’s Series,” Sonic corrected again, his quills bristling as he squared up to Knuckles.

The argument escalated, their voices overlapping in an increasingly heated exchange about stolen bases, no-hitters, and team mascots. Maddie sighed, stepping in between them with her hands raised. “Alright, that’s enough! We’re here to play, not reenact a sports talk show. Sonic, pitch the ball. Knuckles, get ready to swing. End of discussion.”

Both boys muttered under their breaths but begrudgingly returned to their positions.

In the meantime, Tom and Tails had wandered over to the cooler box for some water, taking a break from the heat. Tom unscrewed a bottle and handed it to Tails, his gaze shifting briefly toward the woods.

A strange feeling prickled at the back of his neck, like the sensation of being watched. He squinted, his eyes scanning the dense trees. For a moment, he saw nothing but dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. Then, out of the corner of his eye, there was a flicker of movement—a dash of black and red, too fast to identify.

Tom shook his head, blinking at the woods again. The blur was gone, replaced by the calm rustling of the leaves. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or maybe his mind was just playing games with him.

"Something wrong, Dad?" Tails asked, his two tails flicking behind him as he took a sip of water.

Tom hesitated, then waved the matter off with a chuckle. "Nah, just thought I saw something. Probably a squirrel or... I don’t know, my imagination. Let’s get back to the game before Sonic and Knuckles break into a fistfight over baseball stats."

Tails grinned, following Tom back to the diamond.

A few minutes later, Tom found himself on the mound, ready to pitch. Sonic had graciously (and smugly) declared he’d take over catching duties, giving Tom a chance to stretch his arm. Knuckles, still riled up, stood at the plate, brandishing his bat like a warrior preparing for battle.

Tom wound up for the pitch, adjusting his grip on the ball. He scanned the outfield quickly, noting Maddie and Tails chatting in the distance. For a moment, his gaze flicked back toward the treeline. He froze.

There it was again—the black-and-red blur, shifting ever so slightly among the trees. On the second occasion, it lingered longer, almost like it wanted him to notice.

“Donut Lord!” Sonic's impatient voice snapped him out of it. "Stop zoning out! You’re supposed to be pitching, not daydreaming!”

“Right, right,” Tom muttered, shaking off the unease. He focused back on Knuckles, who was tapping his bat against the ground, glaring at him.

Tom hurled the ball with a practiced motion, aiming straight for the plate. Knuckles swung with all his might—and missed entirely, the ball landing snugly in Sonic’s glove.

“Strike one!” Sonic crowed, spinning the ball on his finger. “You’re going down, Knucklehead!”

Knuckles growled but squared up for another try. Tom wound up again, looking to get a little more relaxed. Just as he was about to release the ball, the blur appeared again, darting through the trees. His concentration wavered for a split second, his throw veering wide.

“Ball one!” Sonic declared. “Come on, Dad, even I can aim better than that!”

Tom forced a laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. "Guess I'm out of practice," he said, retrieving another ball.

He decided to brush off the distraction, focusing on the next pitch. With a deep breath, he hurled the ball straight down the middle. Knuckles connected this time, sending the ball flying deep into the outfield.

The game continued, but the unease of whatever was behind him gnawed at Tom. He managed to stay focused through the next inning, eventually stepping up to bat himself. Sonic, as usual, took the opportunity to show off, pitching the ball with exaggerated speed.

Tom gripped the bat tightly, his eyes narrowing in concentration. But just as Sonic released the pitch, the blur flashed once—closer and just beyond the treeline.

The distraction it offered was enough. Tom swung too late, the ball bouncing off the bat and ricocheting directly into his head.

The impact wasn’t hard enough to knock him out, but it did send him stumbling backward, dazed. He blinked up at the blue sky, Sonic’s grinning face coming into view.

“Ha! Strike one!” Sonic gloated, pointing at Tom. “Man, I didn’t think you’d be this bad at hitting. You okay down there, slugger?”

Tom groaned, sitting up slowly and rubbing his head. “I think I just saw stars. Literal stars," he muttered, his attention drifting back to the woods. The blur was gone again, but having witnessed it enough, he was at last certain of what he’d seen.

Shadow.

“What are you looking at?” Sonic asked, following Tom’s gaze.

Tom hesitated, then shook his head. “Nothing. Just thought I saw... never mind.” He stood, brushing himself off. “Alright, let’s keep going. But maybe ease up on the fastballs, huh?”

The second time had been on his first official day back at the station. After enough time healing and helping Maddie wrangle their lively household, Tom was eager to return to the familiar rhythm of his job. Patrol duty felt like slipping on an old, comfortable jacket—predictable and reliable.

Stationed near the Welcome to Green Hills sign, he leaned against his cruiser, sipping from a thermos of coffee while the world around him remained peaceful. The stretch of road was usually quiet, the occasional vehicle passing by but nothing exciting enough to raise his pulse.

Boring on most days perhaps, but being back alongside the feeling of being watched was enough to tickle the back of his neck, making him glance around more than once. He shook his head, trying to dismiss it as residual nerves from his time off.

As he debated radioing in to stretch his legs, a roar shattered the calm. A motorcycle, sleek and black, barreled down the road, its rider hunched low over the handlebars. Tom immediately straightened, tossing the thermos back into his car.

"Figures," he muttered, flipping on the lights and sirens as he jumped into the cruiser. Gunning the engine, he gave chase, his foot pressing the accelerator harder than necessary.

The bike weaved effortlessly, almost tauntingly, between the lane lines. Despite the rider’s apparent recklessness, their control over the machine was impressive, and the gap between them remained stubbornly consistent. After about a mile, Tom’s patience wore thin, his hand hovering over the radio to call for backup.

Then, abruptly, the rider skidded to a halt. The bike's tires screamed against the asphalt, leaving long, black streaks. Tom barely had time to react, slamming on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the stopped vehicle.

The rider, clad in dark gear with a sleek helmet obscuring their face, sat still, the bike's engine idling with a low growl. Then, as if daring Tom to make the next move, the rider revved the engine, the roar echoing through the quiet road.

Tom grabbed his megaphone, his tone firm. "Green Hills Sheriff’s Department. Step off the bike and place your hands where I can see them."

The rider tilted their head slightly, as though considering the demand. Then, without warning, the motorcycle sputtered, its growl turning into a choked whine. Sparks flew from the engine, and in a moment that defied explanation, the bike seemed to implode. The once-sleek machine crumpled inward, folding like paper, before collapsing into a heap of smoldering metal.

Its rider hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop a few feet away. They groaned, dazed but visibly unharmed.

Tom froze, his mind struggling to catch up. The air around him crackled faintly, and his eyes widened as he caught faint tendrils of red electricity dancing in the atmosphere before fading.

“Shadow,” he murmured under his breath, though there was no sign of the hedgehog.

Shaking off his shock, Tom moved toward the fallen rider, his hand instinctively hovering near his holstered weapon. "Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down.

They groaned again, slowly reaching for their helmet. Tom held up a hand. "Easy now. Don't move too much. You're lucky to be alive after whatever that was."

The helmet came off, revealing a young man with wide, glassy eyes and a mop of sweat-dampened hair. He looked at Tom, dazed but conscious. "What... what happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Tom replied. He straightened, pulling out his cuffs. "But first things first. You’re under arrest for reckless driving and endangerment."

The rider blinked, too dazed to argue as Tom recited the Miranda rights. Once the cuffs were secured, Tom reached for his radio. "Dispatch, this is Officer Wachowski. I need an ambulance at my location. We've got one suspect in custody, possibly injured. Send a tow truck too—though I’m not sure there’s much bike left to tow."

As he waited for backup, Tom’s gaze flickered back to the faint scorch marks on the ground, the scent of ozone lingering in the air. 

Confronting Shadow about the matter did little to help, the hedgehog vehemently denying ever venturing from the cave.

"I haven't removed the tracker from your scarf," Shadow had said, pointing to the garment around his neck while petting the top of Ozzy’s head. "Check on that if you really don't believe me."

Tom hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he studied Shadow. The hedgehog’s expression was unreadable, his crimson eyes steady and unwavering. "It's not that I don't believe you," Tom finally said, leaning against the doorframe. "I just get the very strong feeling that you're not being a hundred percent honest."

"An interesting way of saying that you don't believe me. I have nothing to hide," he said as he stood up and reached for a tennis ball. "I'm going to go play with Ozzy now."

"Hang on," Tom said, stopping him in his tracks. "Don’t forget to grab that water I brought. It’s hot outside, and you’ve got fur. Dehydration is no joke.”

Shadow paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I'll survive, Sheriff. You don’t have to treat me like a child.”

"... but you kind of are. A child I mean."

Shadow’s ears twitched as he turned back to Tom, his cheeks tinged faintly with crimson. “I’m older than you,” he said, his voice sharp but laced with defensiveness. He crossed his arms over his chest, the tennis ball still clutched in one hand.

Tom chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Maybe biologically, but emotionally? Let’s just say you’ve got some catching up to do. Anyway, my old man always used to say that water's always good no matter the plant. You know why plants always carry a water bottle? Because without it, they’d just leaf us."

Shadow gave a long-suffering sigh but grabbed the water bottle from the ground. “Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"I can go now?"

"As far as your heart wants to take you kid."

He grabbed the tennis ball again and crouched slightly down to Ozzy’s side. A moment later, they both vanished in a swirl of red light.

Tom heard them outside, Ozzy barking eagerly as he no doubt gave chase to both the ball and the hedgehog.

Despite the tranquility of being left alone, Tom’s thoughts were anything but settled.

"What'll it take for you to open up?" he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair again, the distinct feeling that Shadow needed him as strong as it ever was.

Sure enough, Tails later confirmed that Shadow had not moved an inch from his cave or so the tracker said.

"Coordinates on this have been exactly the same the past few days. Of course it's possible he's just taking his scarf off if you’re really sure that you saw him."

Tom had frowned at Tails’ suggestion, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah that does seem like the most likely option."

And yet as likely as it seemed, there was apparently no way to get Shadow to admit such a thing as their earlier conversation had proved.

"If you're ready, I can reintroduce you to everyone. One by one. At your own pace."

"I already told you that whatever you saw wasn't me."

Shadow’s eye flicked in apparent annoyance.

“I’ve told you everything I know. If you insist on chasing ghosts, that’s your business.”

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not chasing ghosts, Shadow. I just—" He paused, searching for the right words. "I care about you."

Shadow didn’t respond. The cave was silent except for the faint drip of water echoing in the distance. Tom glanced toward the hole in the ceiling, where the sunlight was beginning to fade into the warm hues of early evening.

“Well,” Tom said, breaking the silence, “if you don’t want to talk, I guess there’s not much more I can do here today. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

He turned to leave, his footsteps soft against the rocky floor. He made it halfway to the entrance before Shadow’s voice stopped him.

“Why are you leaving so soon?” Shadow asked, his tone quiet but laced with an edge of vulnerability.

Tom turned back, his eyebrows knitting together. “I thought you wanted me gone.”

Shadow’s eyes flicked up, meeting Tom’s briefly before darting away. “I didn’t say that.”

For a moment, Tom stood there, debating whether to press any further. Shadow’s usual stoicism was firmly in place, but there was something in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight droop of his ears, that hinted at an underlying loneliness.

Tom sighed, walking back to where Shadow sat. He leaned against the cave wall, crossing his arms. “Alright, ten more minutes. But you’ve got to work on your people skills, bud.”

“I don’t need people skills.”

Tom smirked. “Yeah, well, you could’ve fooled me. You could try joining us for baseball sometime. No one’s expecting you to be a pro. Just come hang out.”

"Hmph."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the soft sounds outside filling the void between them. Tom pulled his cap a little lower, leaning his head back against the stone wall. He wasn’t in a rush to leave, and if Shadow wasn’t going to talk, that was fine too. Sometimes the quiet was just as important.

After a few minutes, Tom broke the silence. “Anything interesting happen with you today?”

Shadow didn’t respond immediately. Tom glanced over and found the hedgehog staring at a spot on the ground, his expression unreadable. Finally, Shadow looked up, his eyes hesitant, almost shy.

“There’s... something,” Shadow murmured, reaching to one side where a bundle of paper and old, dried-out paints rested. He hesitated again before pulling out a rough, hand-painted picture.

It was far from professional—uneven strokes, the colors mostly smudged—but it was unmistakably a painting of the Wachowski house. The porch, the one tree out front, the picket fence, all were rendered in Shadow's unpracticed hand.

He held it out toward Tom stiffly. “The paints were old, so I didn’t think anyone would miss them. I made this. For you.”

Tom blinked, caught completely off guard. Slowly, he reached out to take the picture. His fingers brushed the paper as he examined it more closely.

"This is... wow. You made this?"

Shadow looked away, his ears lowering slightly. “It’s not much. I’ve never tried painting before. I used to just watch Maria...”

“Not much? Shadow, this is amazing. You painted this for me?”

The hedgehog gave a small nod, still not meeting Tom’s gaze. 

Tom smiled. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did. This means a lot. Really.”

Shadow shifted, his demeanor cracking just enough to let a sliver of vulnerability show. “It’s just a picture.” 

“It’s not just anything,” Tom replied, holding it gently. “It’s thoughtful. This is going up on the fridge back home. Front and center."

Shadow’s eyes widened slightly. “The fridge? You mean for everyone to see?”

“Absolutely,” Tom said with a grin. “Right next to Sonic’s math test and those coupons we keep forgetting to use."

Shadow frowned slightly, his ears twitching. “If you put it on the fridge, everyone will ask where it came from.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “So? I’ll just tell them the truth.”

Shadow stiffened, his crimson eyes narrowing. “The truth? And what’s that?”

“That some kid who looks up to me gave it to me as a gift,” Tom said with a smirk.

Shadow’s eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort. “I’m not a kid, and I don’t—” He stopped himself, glaring at Tom instead. “You’re impossible.”

Tom chuckled, clearly amused. “Hey, I’m just being honest. And besides, it’s not a lie, is it?”

Shadow folded his arms, his expression unreadable. “Do what you want,” he muttered, looking away.

Tom let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he tucked the painting carefully under his arm.

Shadow didn’t reply, his gaze fixed somewhere distant, his usual stoicism slipping back into place. Tom studied him for a moment, then pushed himself off the wall, adjusting his cap. “Well, I guess I’d better head out. Maddie’s probably got dinner waiting.”

As he turned toward the entrance, Shadow’s voice cut through the quiet. “Wait.”

Tom paused, glancing over his shoulder. Shadow still wasn’t looking directly at him, but his ears flicked back, and his hands fidgeted slightly. “You’ll come back tomorrow, right?”

Tom’s expression softened. “Of course. Same time?”

Shadow gave a small nod, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Same time... you promise, right?"

Tom smiled warmly, tipping his cap slightly. “I promise."

The third time had come on a classic Wachowski movie night. One where Shadow had not done much at all to conceal himself from Tom.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the television, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on the coffee table. Maddie, nestled comfortably on the couch, chuckled as Sonic darted around, piling up an absurd number of blankets and cushions. Tails and Knuckles were already settled, Knuckles sprawled out in his usual spot and Tails meticulously arranging his snacks.  

“Alright, everyone,” Sonic announced with a dramatic flourish, “tonight’s feature is none other than—”  

"We're not watching Speed again," Maddie interrupted before Sonic could unleash the DVD cover of his favorite film.

Sonic clutched his chest in mock offense, his ears flicking back as he gasped. “Maddie! How dare you assume that I’d pick Speed again? Do I look like some kind of one-trick hedgehog to you?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. “You’ve made us watch it at least five times, Sonic. And don’t even get me started on the commentary.”

“Hey, the commentary is gold!” Sonic shot back, pointing a finger at her. “But no. Tonight, I’ve got something different—something with heart and action. Pure kino."

Knuckles groaned, rolling his eyes. “If this is about you, I am leaving.”

Tails leaned forward, his tails twitching with curiosity. “Wait, what did you pick, Sonic?”

With a smug grin, Sonic held up the DVD case and turned it for everyone to see. “Boom! Lilo & Stitch! A certified classic.”

Tails’ face lit up, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, I love that movie! The science, the spaceships—it's so cool!”

Knuckles frowned, his brow furrowing. “What is a Lilo? And why does it need a stitch?”

“It’s not a ‘what,’ it’s a who, big guy,” Sonic explained, flopping onto the couch and kicking his feet up. “And Stitch? He’s, like, this blue alien dude who’s basically indestructible. Sound familiar?”

Knuckles narrowed his eyes, catching Sonic’s pointed look. “I am nothing like that... thing.” 

"I was talking about... never mind."

As the opening credits rolled, Tom leaned back in his recliner, trying to focus on the movie. But something kept tugging at the edges of his awareness. 

Stitch was in the middle of getting run over by a truck when he shifted in his seat, glancing around the room before his eyes drifted to the window behind them.  

At first, he thought it was a trick of the light. But then he saw it—just a faint silhouette in the darkness beyond the glass. Black and red, unmistakable even in the dim glow of the backyard's light.  

He wasn’t exactly trying to hide—at least not very well—but he still remained just out of reach, a silent observer in the night.

“Back in a sec,” Tom said to Maddie, who nodded without looking away from the screen.

Tom stood and stretched, pretending to head toward the hallway. Instead, he grabbed a folded blanket from the armrest and, with practiced stealth, snatched one of the buckets of popcorn from the coffee table.

Maddie’s voice trailed behind him. “Don’t be long—this is the good part!”

Tom waved a hand over his shoulder, slipping out the back door with the ease of someone used to sneaking away unnoticed.

The cool night air greeted him as he stepped onto the porch. Shadow didn’t turn, but Tom knew the hedgehog was aware of him. He always was.

“You know,” Tom began, his voice soft as he approached, “we’ve got plenty of seats inside. And better lighting.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes flicked toward him briefly before returning to the glowing window. He shook his head, the gesture almost imperceptible.

Tom stopped a few feet away, holding up the popcorn as if it were a peace offering. “Figured as much. Mind if I join you, then?”

Shadow didn’t respond, but he didn’t protest either. Tom took that as permission.

With a quiet huff, Tom unfolded two lawn chairs from their spot by the porch and set them up near the window. He draped the blanket over Shadow’s shoulders, ignoring the slight flinch it drew, then tossed the other half over himself before sitting down. He placed the popcorn bucket on the ground between them.

“Perfect view,” Tom said, settling into his chair. “No sticky floors, no overpriced snacks. Not bad, huh?”

Shadow glanced at him from the corner of his eye but said nothing.

They sat in companionable silence, the muffled sounds of the movie filtering through the window.

"It's nice to live on an island with no large cities," Lilo said, prompting a near panic attack from Stitch.

Tom reached into the popcorn bucket, grabbing a handful and popping a few kernels into his mouth. He nudged the bucket toward Shadow, who hesitated before finally taking a small handful.

The popcorn was warm and a little too salty, but he ate it all the same.

They watched in silence, the movie playing on as the occasional night breeze rustled through the backyard. Shadow remained as still as ever, his gaze locked onto the screen through the window, but Tom didn’t miss the subtle shifts in his expression—small furrows of his brow, the occasional flick of his ears.  

Stitch built his chaotic little model city and promptly destroyed it with Godzilla-like sound effects, prompting Shadow to let out a quiet grunt, something between amusement and thoughtfulness. Tom almost commented but let it go.  

Stitch attempted to blend in at Lilo’s hula class and ended up causing a disaster instead, causing Shadow to make another noise—one which sounded more irritated, though Tom couldn’t tell if it was directed at Stitch or at himself.  

Lilo showed Stitch the photo of her late parents and Shadow’s grip on the armrest tightened ever so slightly. Tom glanced at him from the corner of his eye, saying nothing. 

Stitch, thoroughly arrested, stood by the spaceship while the Grand Councilwoman chewed out Jumba for creating Stitch in the first place.

"Stitch."

"What?"

"My name Stitch."

"Stitch then. If it wasn't for Stitch..."

"Does Stitch have to go in the ship?"

"Yes..."

"Can Stitch say goodbye?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"Who are you?"

"This is my family. I found it all on my own. It’s little, and broken... but still good. Yeah. Still good."

Tom exhaled softly, barely above a whisper. "You know, Shadow... it’s okay to be unsure about these things. No one’s rushing you to figure it all out." He turned his head slightly. "But if you ever want it, you know—me, Maddie, Sonic, even Knuckles and Tails—we’d all welcome you with open arms. No questions. No conditions. Just... as you are."  

Silence.  

Tom frowned. Shadow hadn’t reacted. Not even a grunt of acknowledgment.  

He turned fully, expecting to meet those piercing crimson eyes, but—  

Nothing. 

The chair was empty.  

The blanket Tom had given him had slipped down onto the seat, left behind like an afterthought.  

Tom sighed through his nose, leaning back in his chair. He reached for the popcorn, tossing a few pieces into his mouth.  

"One day," he muttered, turning back toward the movie, letting Elvis's Burning Love play out before heading back inside.

Things came to a head on an otherwise uneventful Tuesday morning.

Tom stretched out on the couch, a rare day off giving him the chance to finally relax. The house was unusually quiet. Maddie was at the vet clinic, and she’d taken Sonic along for his annual checkup, much to the hedgehog’s vocal dismay. Tails was tinkering away in the garage, and Knuckles had claimed the backyard.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, there was no chaos and no urgent calls. Tom flipped through the channels lazily, settling on a rerun of some home improvement show, when a knock at the door shattered the stillness.

It wasn’t a loud knock, more measured and deliberate. Frowning, Tom stood up and padded to the front door to pull it open.

"Oh, hey Shadow."

He turned away casually and then his eyes widened, hands returning to the doorknob.

"Shadow!?"

Tom blinked, his surprise evident as he stared at the black-and-red hedgehog standing on his doorstep. Shadow’s usual stoic demeanor seemed slightly muted, his ears tilted back just enough to hint at unease.

"Shadow! Uh..." Tom started, momentarily at a loss for words. "What are you doing here?"

Shadow hesitated, glancing down at the object in his hands. It was a familiar brown jacket, neatly folded. "You left this," he said simply, holding it out.

Tom looked at the jacket, then back at Shadow. "Oh, my jacket! Right, from the Fortress!" He reached out to take it, a sheepish smile forming. "Thanks for bringing it back. I totally forgot about that."

Shadow didn’t move, his gaze fixed somewhere just over Tom’s shoulder. “I apologize if this is an inconvenience. I shouldn’t have come unannounced.” His voice was quieter than usual, and he took a small step back, as if preparing to leave.

"Whoa, hold on," Tom said quickly, raising a hand. "It’s not an inconvenience at all. I was just surprised, that’s all. Honestly, I didn’t even realize I’d left it behind."

Shadow paused, his eyes flicking back to Tom’s face. "You’re sure?"

Tom gave a quick nod, stepping aside and gesturing Shadow inside. “Absolutely sure. Come on in. You didn’t have to go out of your way to bring this back, but I appreciate it.”

Shadow hesitated briefly, his eyes scanning the empty living room beyond the door before he stepped inside. As the door clicked shut behind him, Tom turned to hang the jacket on a nearby hook, only to freeze as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

His stomach dropped.

Pulling up the long driveway was Maddie’s car, Sonic’s unmistakable quills visible through the passenger-side window. The hedgehog was gesturing animatedly, likely recounting the horrors of his checkup. Maddie, as always, wore her patient, amused expression as she maneuvered the car closer to the house.

Tom’s pulse quickened. He glanced back at Shadow, who was standing in the middle of the living room like a statue, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Uh, Shadow?” Tom said, trying to sound calm but hurried. “We’ve got company.”

Shadow’s ears perked up, and he tilted his head slightly, but before he could question it, Tom stepped closer.

“Maddie and Sonic are back,” he explained in a low voice. “And let’s just say this might not be the best time for them to see you here. Sonic’s, uh, a bit excitable when it comes to... well, anyone he hasn’t had a proper introduction to yet.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, and his shoulders stiffened. “Do you mean to hide me?”

Tom winced at the way Shadow said it, his tone laced with suspicion. “Not hide. Just—let’s ease into things, you know? One step at a time.”

Shadow’s gaze bore into Tom for a long, tense moment before he gave a curt nod. “Fine. Where?”

Tom breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Just sit tight in here for now. I’ll handle them, and maybe we can—”

He was cut off by the sound of Maddie’s car door closing, followed by Sonic’s voice carrying up to the house.

“Finally! I thought that vet visit was never going to end. Do I really need a checkup every year? I’m in perfect shape! I’ve got super speed, remember?”

“Into the kitchen,” Tom said quickly, guiding Shadow toward the archway. “Just stay out of sight for a bit, okay?”

Shadow moved without argument, disappearing into the kitchen just as the front door opened.

Maddie stepped into the house, her keys jingling in one hand as she called out, "Tom? I forgot my purse. I think I left it in the living room."  

Tom's stomach tightened. "Oh! Uh, hey, Maddie!" he said, his voice louder than usual. He darted to the middle of the room, casually positioning himself in front of the kitchen doorway. "The purse? Right, the purse. I can help you look for it!"  

Maddie raised an eyebrow, giving him a curious look. "You okay? You seem a little... tense."  

"Tense? Me? No way," Tom said, forcing a laugh. "I’m just, uh, caffeinated! Too much coffee this morning. I’m great."  

Sonic zipped past Maddie and into the living room, scanning the area in a blur. "I’ll find it! Super speed is way faster than regular looking."  

Tom’s eyes widened in panic as Sonic moved dangerously close to the kitchen. "No need, buddy! I’ve got it covered. Why don’t you—uh—help Maddie check her car? It might be in there!"  

Sonic stopped mid-step, scratching his head. "Huh. You think so? I mean, it could have fallen out when we got out of the car..."  

"Exactly!" Tom said, nodding vigorously. "You two check outside. I’ll look in here!"  

Maddie frowned, her suspicion growing. "Tom, what’s going on? You’re acting weird. Did something weird happen?"  

"Nothing happened!" Tom said quickly, his hands raised defensively. "Everything’s totally normal. Just let me handle this."  

Before Maddie could respond, there was a faint clatter from the kitchen. Her eyes narrowed. "What was that?"  

"That? Uh..." Tom stammered, stepping in front of her as she moved toward the sound. "Probably... Tails! He’s been working on something noisy all morning."  

"In the kitchen?" Maddie asked skeptically.  

"He’s, uh, expanding his workspace! You know how he is—our innovative little guy!" Tom babbled, his smile strained.  

Maddie sighed, brushing past him. "Tom, you’re terrible at lying. Let me just—"  

"Wait!" Tom said, grabbing her arm gently. "Let me check first. You’ve been busy all morning; you deserve a break. Go sit down, and I’ll find the purse. Promise."  

Maddie stared at him for a long moment, her brow furrowing. Finally, she relented with a small shrug. "Fine, but don’t take forever. I need to get back to the clinic."  

Tom exhaled in relief, watching as she settled onto the couch. Sonic, however, was still bouncing on his heels, looking ready to resume the search at any moment.  

Tom bolted into the kitchen, finding Shadow standing perfectly still in the corner, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.  

"You’ve got to teleport or something," Tom hissed. "Why didn’t you just leave when you heard them coming?"  

Shadow’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You asked me to stay out of sight. I followed your instructions."  

Tom groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, fair. But now we need to get you somewhere they won’t stumble on you. Come on."  

He motioned for Shadow to follow him, leading him outside and toward the garage door. Just as they stepped out, Sonic zipped past the kitchen doorway.  

"Hey, Tom! You sure you don’t need my help in there?" Sonic called, skidding to a stop.  

"Positive!" Tom shouted back, shoving Shadow through the garage door and shutting it behind them.  

Once inside, Tom turned to Shadow, his hands on his hips. "Alright, sit tight here. Just don’t touch anything. Especially that," he said, grabbing the tranquilizer gun from Shadow which the hedgehog had seemed naturally drawn to.

"I’ll get Maddie out of the house, and then we’ll figure this out."  

Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Your situation would have been resolved if you’d simply allowed me to leave."  

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know that now. Just... stay here. Please. Don’t go anywhere."  

Shadow shrugged, leaning casually against one of Tails’ half-finished gadgets. "As you wish."  

Tom made his way back into the living room, doing his best to look casual. Maddie was flipping through her phone, and Sonic had resumed darting around the house in a blur, supposedly searching for the missing purse. Tom’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to figure out how to break the news to Maddie.

“So, uh, no luck yet?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Nope,” Maddie replied, her eyes not leaving the screen. “I’m starting to think it’s not in the house. Maybe I left it at the clinic after all.”

Tom seized the opportunity. “You know, that’s probably it! Why don’t you drive over and check?"

"In a minute, just let me check the bathroom first. Sonic, check here downstairs again, just in case.”

“Got it!” Sonic said, vanishing in a streak of blue.

Tom watched as Maddie made her way toward the bathroom, leaving him momentarily alone. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.

“Okay, think,” he muttered to himself. “How do I explain that Shadow just decided to drop by without making this sound completely insane?”

Before he could come up with an answer, the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. He turned to see Knuckles entering from the backyard. Behind him, Tails appeared, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. The fox’s expression was serious, and he held a small handheld device.

"Yes," Tom said, beating him to the punch. "I'm aware that Shadow is currently in our garage."

"Oh okay," Tails said, sounding relieved. "I thought something was off with the tracker." He became gravely serious once more. "Why is Shadow in our garage?"

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing there was no avoiding this conversation. “I have no idea how to get Maddie in front of Shadow without her freaking out."

Knuckles snorted, cracking his knuckles. “Simple. Just toss him out in front of her and see what happens, the way echidna mothers treat their young. Shadow can handle himself, correct?"

Tom gave Knuckles a withering look. “That’s probably the worst idea I’ve heard all day.”

Knuckles shrugged, unbothered. “You overcomplicate everything Father.”

Tails wiped his hands clean and stepped forward. “I think you’re overthinking this, Dad. Shadow’s not here to pick a fight. Let him explain himself to her. She’s reasonable. Just keep Sonic out of the way at first, and things will probably work out.”

Tom considered this for a moment, tapping his foot nervously. “You think Maddie won’t freak out?”

Tails adjusted his goggles thoughtfully. “Mom's pretty level-headed, especially compared to the rest of us. Just introduce them properly and let Shadow do the talking.”

Tom let out a long breath. “Alright. That makes sense. Let’s do this before things get even weirder.” He glanced outside toward the garage door, steeling himself.

Just as he was about to head out, a loud cry sounded, followed by an ear piercing scream.

"Oh no..."

Chapter Text

"Fascinating..."

"Professor?"

Dr. Elias Moore spun back around to look at Shadow, a sharp glint of curiosity in the hedgehog’s eyes.

"Come and look at this, Shadow."

Dr. Moore beckoned Shadow over, his finger pointing to the monitor displaying a complex sequence of data. He had taken to explaining some of the research they were conducting directly to Shadow, finding that it kept him engaged and surprisingly inquisitive. Shadow approached cautiously, scanning the screen, though he could make little sense of the numbers and symbols.

“Shadow,” Dr. Moore began, his voice a mixture of awe and scientific detachment. “Your DNA composition is... truly remarkable. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. See here?” He gestured at a highlighted portion of the display. “This sequence suggests that your cells don’t deteriorate in the way that organic life typically does. You are, for all intents and purposes, biologically immortal.”

Shadow tilted his head, perplexed. “Immortal? I don’t understand, Doctor.”

“It means,” Dr. Moore explained, “that you may not age, Shadow. Your body is designed to endure indefinitely. While the rest of us grow old and eventually succumb to the passage of time, you… may never experience that.”

Shadow frowned, his gaze dropping to his gloved hands. “What does that mean? What is… aging? Or… passing of time?”

“It means that one day, like all humans, I won’t be here anymore. I will die.”

The word hung in the air like a lead weight. Shadow’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with alarm. “You’ll… be gone? But you’re always here. Why would you go away?”

“It’s the natural course of life. All living things have a beginning and an end. It’s what makes our time valuable.”

He clenched his fists, his voice trembling. “Will Maria… will Maria go away too?”

“Yes."

Sonic found himself standing on a giant golden loop suspended in the sky. Around him, the world shimmered with bizarre, neon colors that pulsed and shifted like a kaleidoscope. Floating platforms, oversized chili dogs, and racing tracks twisted through the air.

“This… is awesome!” Sonic exclaimed, his grin widening as he took in the surreal landscape.

Ahead, a giant version of himself appeared, dressed in a royal cape and crown. “Greetings, Sonic the Great!” the royal Sonic announced, his voice echoing like thunder. “You are the chosen one! The fastest being in the Multiverse! And today, you must race… the Time Weasel!”

“Wait, the what?” Sonic asked, blinking.

From behind a swirling portal emerged a massive, grinning weasel in a top hat, riding a unicycle powered by an hourglass. “Prepare to lose, hedgehog!” the Time Weasel cackled, pulling a stopwatch from thin air.

“Oh, it’s on!” Sonic shouted, crouching into a runner’s stance as the racecourse assembled itself before them. It looped through impossible dimensions, with gravity-defying corkscrews and fire-breathing toasters.

As the starting horn blared, Sonic bolted forward, his feet a blur. He narrowly avoided a barrage of exploding donuts and swung on candy cane vines to gain an edge. The Time Weasel laughed maniacally, teleporting ahead with bursts of sand from his hourglass.

“I’m not losing to some time-traveling ferret!” Sonic growled, leaping over a pit filled with electric jellybeans.

He landed with a spin, kicking off the electric jellybeans and rocketing forward. The Time Weasel cackled as he twisted his hourglass, bending time around him. One second, he was ahead; the next, he flickered in and out of existence, reappearing in unexpected places.  

“Oh, you’re gonna have to try harder than that!” Sonic smirked, dodging a sudden rain of anvils labeled ACME Time Division.

The track ahead split into three paths—one glowing red, one blue, and one an ominous shade of green. The royal Sonic’s voice echoed in his head. “Choose wisely, for only the fastest may tread the path of victory!”

Sonic didn’t hesitate—he took the blue path, hoping it would match his speed. Instantly, he was sucked into a vortex of swirling stars, racing through what felt like a tunnel of liquid lightning.  

The Time Weasel popped up beside him, grinning. “Oh-ho! A bold choice! But can you handle… the Paradox Zone?” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, there were two Sonics.  

Sonic gasped as his doppelgänger smirked back at him. “Whoa, okay, weird.”  

“Hey, I’m the real Sonic!” the clone insisted.  

“No, I’m the real Sonic!” Sonic shot back.  

The Time Weasel chortled. “Figure it out before you both get erased!” He spun his hourglass, and the track started to unravel, pieces of it floating away into the void.  

Thinking fast, Sonic locked eyes with his clone. “Alright, let’s see who’s really got the speed! First to the finish wins!”  

Both Sonics took off, matching each other step for step. The paradox energy crackled around them, reality glitching as they pushed past the limits of time itself.  

The finish line loomed ahead—a swirling vortex of golden rings, flashing like a supernova. The Time Weasel was already there, cackling as he approached the final stretch.  

“No way I’m letting a time-traveling circus act win this!” Sonic growled, pouring on the speed.  

Suddenly, a voice cut through the madness, faint but growing louder.

“Earth to Sonic… Earth to Sonic…”

Sonic stumbled mid-run, skidding to a stop. The world around him flickered, the neon colors dimming.

“What the—?” He glanced around, the dreamscape beginning to blur.

The royal Sonic appeared again, his crown slipping askew. “You must focus! The fate of the universe depends on this race!”

“Uh, hold that thought,” Sonic said, rubbing his ears as the voice grew more insistent. “Earth to Sonic? What’s going on?”

The dream began to crumble, fragments of the surreal landscape falling away into darkness.

“Sonic!”

With a jolt, Sonic’s eyes flew open. He found himself lying on the garage floor, blinking up at Tails, Knuckles, and Tom, their concerned faces peering down at him.

“Wha—what happened?” Sonic mumbled, his head spinning.

“You got shot with a tranquilizer dart!” Tails explained, holding up the dart in question. “We’ve been trying to wake you up for like five minutes!”

“You were completely out cold,” Knuckles added, crossing his arms. “And you kept mumbling something about a weasel and donuts.”

Tom crouched next to him, helping Sonic sit up. “Are you okay? That was Shadow’s doing. He… might’ve panicked.”

“Oh, okay... Shadow?!” Sonic’s eyes widened as the memories came rushing back. “Where is he?! He's alive?”

Tails hesitated.

Tom exchanged a glance with Tails and Knuckles, who both looked uneasy. “He’s... talking to Maddie,” Tom said carefully. “And I think we should give them some space—”

“What?!” Sonic interrupted, his quills bristling. “You’re telling me you left Maddie alone with Shadow? What if he tries something?”

“Sonic, calm down,” Tails said, holding up his hands. “It’s not like that. Shadow didn’t attack you on purpose. He just panicked when you startled him.”

“Pfft, I'm not known for startling people,” Sonic said, brushing himself off. “I’m going to make sure Mom's okay.”

Knuckles raised a brow. “I highly doubt that barging in there would help.”

Sonic seemed to pause for a moment, as if considering their words. Then, in a blur, he zipped past them toward the house.

“Sonic, wait!” Tom shouted, bolting after him with Tails and Knuckles close behind.

By the time they reached the living room, Sonic was already at the kitchen doorway, skidding to a stop. Tom braced himself for chaos, but what they saw made everyone freeze in their tracks.

Maddie was hugging Shadow.

The two of them stood near the kitchen counter, their postures tense yet oddly vulnerable. Shadow’s arms hung awkwardly at his sides, but his head tilted slightly as if to lean into the embrace. Maddie’s face was pressed into his shoulder, and though her eyes were red and puffy, her expression was soft.

“Uh...” Sonic broke the silence, looking utterly baffled.

Maddie pulled back from the hug, wiping her eyes. She turned to face them, her usual calm demeanor returning despite the visible tear streaks on her face. “Tom,” she said, her voice steady but thick with emotion, “call GUN.”

Tom blinked, his brain scrambling to catch up. “Call GUN? Maddie, what—”

“Just do it,” Maddie insisted, glancing back at Shadow. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Tom hesitated, then pulled out his phone, stepping aside to make the call.

It took Maddie a few steadying breaths before she felt ready to look at Shadow.

Even when she finally did, meeting his eyes was difficult. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, though not because of any hostility from him. In fact, Shadow looked utterly meek—his shoulders bunched, his body language uneasy, as though he wanted to shrink into himself.

For her, it was rage. Shock. Disappointment. Every memory of Tom being wheeled out of GUN’s London headquarters on a stretcher crashed down on her at once.

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, as though trying to hold herself together. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of memories she had tried to bury. Another breath. It didn’t help much.

“You’ve got some nerve coming here,” she finally said, her voice cold and clipped.

Shadow flinched—so subtle it was almost imperceptible, but she caught it. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, hands clenched at his sides.

“I never meant to hurt anyone. I thought I had no choice.”

“We always have a choice,” Maddie said, her voice laced with disdain. “And you made the wrong one.”

Her jaw was tight, brow furrowed, eyes sharp and piercing.

“She was everything to me.” His voice was quieter now. “Maria. When she died, I was reminded that nothing lasts forever. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Gerald couldn’t answer my questions, and for the first time… neither could she. I thought that if I stayed there long enough, she would wake up.”

Maddie’s expression faltered slightly—her brows relaxing, her lips parting in surprise.

“I never fought back when they took me. I still hoped they were there to help. That they could bring her back somehow.” His voice was hollow. “Instead, they left her body there. I don’t know for how long. And they dragged me and Gerald away.

“I looked into his eyes—Commander Walters—while he locked me away. And I felt anger like I had never known. I thought he was the one who took Maria from me. The one who stole whatever happiness I had left.”

For the first time, Shadow met her gaze. His eyes, filled with pain, vulnerability. His lips pulled inward, his jaw tightening like he was physically holding back tears.

“All I wanted was the key. Nothing else. I wasn’t there to hurt anyone.” His voice grew hoarse. “But then… I saw him.”

His breath hitched, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. His face softened—his brows tilting upward, sorrow raw and unguarded.

“I thought it was Walters. The one who ripped everything away from me. The one who locked me up, who let Maria die. And when I saw him, every ounce of anger, pain, and grief came rushing back. I—I couldn’t think anymore. All I saw was him. And all I wanted was to make him pay.”

A shuddering breath. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

“I didn’t realize. Not until after. When his disguise fell away.” His voice barely above a whisper. “Walters wasn’t even there.”

Maddie listened, silent, her own eyes glistening.

“I did a terrible thing to you. To Tom. To Sonic. To all of you.” His voice trembled. “I’ve spent a long time wishing I could’ve stopped myself. And when I realized I couldn’t… I wanted Sonic to take his vengeance. I hoped he would kill me.

“But I lived.” His breath came uneven. “And I thought—hoped—that maybe I could make things right. As if just being around Tom could somehow undo the past.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just want you to understand.”

For a long moment, Maddie said nothing. Then, her voice softened.

“I’ve done terrible things too.” A bitter smile touched her lips. “Thought that if I just did one more thing—made one more choice—the world might spin a little better.”

Shadow stepped forward, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should. His expression shifted to quiet resignation. His shoulders sagged, eyes drooping with exhaustion. He exhaled visibly, unburdening himself of a weight he had carried too long.

“I didn’t choose to be this,” he murmured. “I don’t even know what I am. Or why I’m here.” He swallowed hard. “All that ever really mattered to me was Maria.”

Maddie’s lips curved faintly into something like a sad smile. Her posture eased. Then, she crouched down, meeting him at eye level.

And she pulled him into a tight hug.

“I forgive you.”

Gerald Robotnik hunched over his workstation, the soft glow of monitors casting sharp shadows across his face. The quiet hum of machinery filled the room, punctuated by the occasional clatter of metal instruments. He was so immersed in his work that he didn’t notice the gentle tug on the back of his lab coat at first.

“Professor?”

The voice was quiet, hesitant. Gerald turned his head slightly, glancing down to find Shadow standing behind him, his eyes wide and uncertain.

“Ah, Shadow,” Gerald said, his voice warm despite the interruption. “Is something wrong?”

Shadow hesitated, his hand still clutching the edge of the lab coat. He looked down, his ears flattening against his head. “Is it true?”

Gerald blinked, setting down his tools. “Is what true?”

Shadow’s grip on the coat tightened, his voice trembling. “That one day… you’ll be gone. That you’ll die.”

He turned fully to face Shadow, kneeling down to meet the hedgehog’s gaze.

“Yes, one day, I will pass away."

Shadow’s eyes shimmered with something unspoken. “But… you’re always here. You’re always working and—"

"Such is the way of life. Speaking of which, have you seen the new calculations I’ve been working on? I think you’ll find them fascinating.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed as he followed Gerald back to the desk. “But Professor,” he pressed, his voice gaining an edge of desperation, “if everyone goes away eventually, what happens to the people they leave behind? What happens to me?”

Gerald paused for a fraction of a second before picking up a clipboard and scanning its contents. “Now, now. Let’s not dwell on such somber things. Here, take a look at this genetic sequence.” He gestured to the monitor, his tone brightening. “It’s part of the research we've derived from you. See how unique it is?"

Shadow reluctantly turned his gaze to the screen, though his thoughts clearly lingered elsewhere. “But… what if I don’t want you to go away?”

Gerald sighed softly, keeping his eyes on the data. “That’s very kind of you and I’m glad you care. But part of growing up is learning to accept the things we can’t change. Now, tell me, what do you make of this strand here?”

Shadow didn’t answer. His eyes remained fixed on Gerald, his expression unreadable. Finally, he muttered, “You don’t want to talk about it.”

Gerald’s hand faltered, but only for a moment. He glanced at Shadow, his smile softening. “It’s not that. I just don’t want you to worry about things that are far off in the future. You’re still young, and there’s so much for you to learn, to see, to experience. Let’s focus on that, shall we?”

Shadow’s ears twitched, and he looked away, his voice quiet. “Okay… if you say so.”

"You Wachowskis certainly have a way with words."

Commander Walters adjusted his crisp uniform as he surveyed the room.

“For all intents and purposes, everyone—save for a select few—should believe I’m dead.”

Tom folded his arms. “Why fake your death?”

Walters smirked. “Strategic advantage. There are certain… parties better left unaware of my continued existence. It keeps them off balance and gives me room to maneuver.” His gaze flicked to Tom, amusement lacing his tone. “Though I must say, the irony isn’t lost on me. You impersonating me? GUN agents unsure whether I was alive or dead? A stroke of genius, I’ll admit.”

Tom shrugged, barely hiding a grin. “I had help.”

“Indeed, you did.” Walters turned to Tails, his expression softening slightly. “That tech you developed—flawless. A perfect replica of me, down to the last detail. It fooled agents who’ve worked with me for years. You have a rare talent.”

Tails rubbed the back of his head, his twin tails swishing modestly. “Well, it was a team effort...”

Walters held up a hand. “Nonsense. That level of innovation deserves recognition.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek business card. “How would you like to join GUN’s R&D division? We could use a mind like yours.”

Tails blinked, caught off guard, as Walters handed him the card. He glanced down, then frowned.

“Uh… Commander?” Tails held up the card. “This is for Olive Garden.”

Walters paused, then let out a rare, hearty laugh. “So it is!” He reached into another pocket, producing a different card. “Here’s the real deal.”

Tails hesitated, looking between the two cards. “Thanks? I’ll, uh, think about it.”

Knuckles leaned over Tails’ shoulder, squinting at the Olive Garden card. “Does this come with free breadsticks?”

Walters raised an eyebrow. “The breadsticks are always free.”

The room grew tense as Maddie stepped forward, her presence commanding immediate attention.

“All right, enough small talk,” she said firmly. “There’s someone you need to see.”

Walters’ amusement faded. “Oh? And who might that be?”

Maddie didn’t answer right away. Instead, she motioned toward the hallway. The sound of measured footsteps followed, and Shadow emerged from the shadows, his crimson gaze locked onto Walters.

The room seemed to hold its breath. Shadow’s posture was calm, yet there was an unmistakable edge to him. His quills bristled faintly, his stare heavy enough to make even the seasoned Commander shift uncomfortably.

“Shadow,” Walters said evenly, masking his unease with practiced stoicism. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Nor did I expect to see you breathing,” Shadow replied, his voice like a blade. He stepped closer with calculated precision. “After all, you were the one who deemed me too dangerous to live. Fifty years in stasis… because of you.”

Walters stiffened. “I made a decision for the safety of humanity. You were an unknown. A weapon.”

“And now?” Shadow tilted his head, voice quiet but no less dangerous. “Am I still a weapon to you? Or something else?”

The tension thickened. Sonic shifted uncomfortably, Knuckles crossed his arms, watching the exchange like a hawk. Maddie, however, remained resolute and stepped between them.

“All right,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. She turned to Walters. “You owe Shadow an apology.”

Walters blinked, caught off guard. “An apology?”

Maddie’s expression hardened, hands on her hips. “You heard me. For what you did to him. For locking him away for fifty years without a second thought.”

Walters opened his mouth, then closed it, visibly thrown by her demand. “Mrs. Wachowski, I don’t think you—”

“Don’t you Mrs. Wachowski me,” Maddie cut in, pointing a firm finger at him. “You made a call, Commander, but that call cost Shadow fifty years of his life. And you’re going to own up to it.”

Walters hesitated, glancing at Shadow, whose expression remained unreadable. For a moment, the Commander looked ready to argue—but then Maddie gave him the look.

It was the same look she gave Sonic when he tracked mud into the house. The same look Tom got when he forgot to do the dishes. The look that brooked no argument.

Walters cleared his throat and straightened his uniform. “Shadow,” he said gruffly, “I… apologize. For the decisions I made. For what you endured.”

Shadow studied him for a long moment, crimson eyes unblinking. Then, to Walters’ surprise, he gave a small nod.

“Apology accepted.”

Walters blinked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Shadow said simply. “I don’t need to hold on to the past anymore. You should try it sometime.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Walters as he shook his head. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Sonic, unable to help himself, finally spoke up. “Okay, but seriously, does this mean we’re all friends now? Because I was kinda hoping for some epic showdown vibes.”

Maddie shot him a look. “Sonic.”

“What?” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m just saying.”

"Maria?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think happens when we die?"

It was one of those nights. A night of looking out at an endless array of stars. A night where he had all the questions and she had all the answers. Maria tilted her head, the glow of her room's lights reflecting in her soft blue eyes. She always had this way of looking at him, as if his questions were the most important in the universe.

"I don't know for sure," she admitted gently, her voice as warm as the blanket she’d wrapped around them both. It was a chilly night and while neither of them were willing to admit defeat to the cool breeze, they both begrudgingly compromised on a blanket. "But I like to think that it's not the end. Maybe it's like a dream, where we get to see everyone we love again. Maybe it's something entirely different—something we can’t even imagine yet."

"Doctor Moore said that they can't detect anything in me that indicates I can age. He thinks I'm going to live forever."

Maria’s expression softened, a shadow of sadness passing over her features. She pulled the blanket a little tighter around them, leaning closer to Shadow as if her warmth alone could comfort him.

"Forever is a long time," she said thoughtfully. "What are you going to do with it?"

"I... want to spend it with you."

Maria smiled at him. Her fingers brushed lightly against his, their connection grounding him in a way nothing else could.

"I wish I could promise that."

"You don't have to promise," Shadow replied. "It's just what I want. You're my best friend, Maria. My only friend. You and the Professor are all that I have."

Maria’s eyes softened further, her heart clearly aching for the hedgehog sitting beside her. She squeezed his hand gently, her thumb brushing over his as if trying to reassure him in a way words couldn’t.

“And you’re mine,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You’re strong, and kind, and no matter what anyone says, you deserve to be happy."

Shadow turned to look at her fully, his crimson eyes searching hers for an understanding he wasn’t sure he’d find. “How can I be happy if I lose you someday?”

Maria’s lips parted slightly, the question cutting through her as surely as if it had been spoken aloud.

"Even if we’re apart, you’ll carry it with you. In your heart. In the memories we’ve made together.”

He frowned, his gaze dropping to the blanket wrapped around them both. “But it won’t be the same.”

“No,” Maria said gently, “it won’t. But that’s why we have to make every moment count. That’s why we have nights like this, where we look at the stars and ask big, scary questions.”

Shadow was quiet for a long moment, his small shoulders tense as he processed her words. Then, almost hesitantly, he spoke again.

“If you’re not there, I don’t think forever will matter much.”

Maria’s breath hitched, but she didn’t let her voice falter as she leaned in closer, pressing her forehead lightly against his. “You’ll find your way, Shadow,” she promised. “You’ll find people who’ll love you, who’ll help you see that forever isn’t so scary after all. You'll find somewhere to belong."

"... I don’t like thinking about that."

Maria let out a soft sigh, her breath warm against the cool air. She reached out and gently tucked a stray quill back into place, her touch light and soothing. “That’s okay. You can forget about it for now."

“But it’s always there,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Knowing I'm going to lose everything."

Maria leaned back slightly, giving him a sad but understanding smile. “That’s what makes this so special, you know. The time we have now. It’s why we should hold on to it, make it mean something.”

Shadow looked up at her, confusion and a faint trace of frustration flickering across his face. “But how? How do I make it mean something if it’ll all just… go away?”

“Because things don’t really go away,” she said. “Not the important things. They leave a mark—on the people you love, on the world around you. It’s like ripples in water. Even the smallest stone can make waves that reach far beyond what you’d expect.”  

Shadow’s brow furrowed as he tried to grasp the metaphor. “But what if I don’t know how to… make those ripples? What if I’m just... here?”  

Maria’s smile returned, warm and patient. “You’re already making them. Just by being who you are. By asking questions like this, by caring about people, by trying to understand the world. That’s how it starts. It doesn’t have to be big or perfect—it just has to be real.”  

He was quiet for a moment, his crimson eyes fixed on hers. “And that’s enough?”  

“It’s more than enough,” Maria assured him. “The ripples you make might not always be something you can see, but they matter. You matter. And one day, I think you’ll see just how much.”  

Shadow shifted his gaze back to the stars, his expression contemplative. “I still don’t want to lose you.”  

Maria’s hand found his again, her grip steady and reassuring. “I don’t want to lose you either,” she said softly. “But if that ever happens, I want you to remember this: you’re not just living for me, or for Grandfather. You’re living for you, Shadow. And you’ll find a way to make your forever mean something. I believe in you.”  

Her words settled into the quiet spaces of his mind, filling places he didn’t know were empty. He didn’t have all the answers, and the weight of the future still loomed large, but for now, Maria’s belief in him was enough to hold the darkness at bay.  

“I’ll try,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.  

Maria’s smile widened, her thumb brushing gently over his hand. “That’s all anyone can ask for. One step at a time.”  

As the stars continued their silent dance outside, the two of them sat together, wrapped in their shared warmth. The questions might never truly stop, but for just a night, they had each other—and that felt like enough.

"This is ground control to Major Tom. Three, two, one!"

In a blink and a flash of light, Tom went from upright to downright.

He groaned, sprawled across the driveway in a tangle of rope, his rollerskates pointing skyward. Sonic and Shadow stood a few feet away, locked in a heated argument, the frayed end of the rope tied snugly around Shadow’s waist.  

“It’s my turn, faker!” Sonic huffed, jabbing a finger toward Shadow. “You’ve already had like three rounds!”  

“I was perfecting my technique,” Shadow replied coolly, crossing his arms. “You could learn something from watching me.”  

“Learn what? How to cheat?” Sonic shot back, his quills bristling.  

Meanwhile, Tom pushed himself up onto his elbows, grimacing. “Guys, can we take a timeout? My spine’s not exactly indestructible, you know.”  

Neither hedgehog paid him any attention.  

“I’m faster,” Sonic declared, pointing to himself. “Everyone knows it!”  

Shadow raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Speed isn’t everything. It’s about control, precision, and—”  

“Boredom?” Sonic interrupted.  

Before Shadow could retort, Maddie appeared at the doorway, hands on her hips. “What’s going on out here?”  

Tom, still half-tangled in the rope, waved weakly. “Oh, you know. Just your husband being used as a human tugboat.”  

Maddie’s eyes widened as she took in the scene, then narrowed at the hedgehogs. “Seriously?”  

Sonic immediately pointed at Shadow. “It’s his fault!”  

Shadow straightened, his usually stoic demeanor shifting ever so slightly. He tilted his head, his crimson eyes softening into a look so subtly imploring it bordered on innocent. If Maddie wasn’t watching closely, she might have missed it—a slight droop of the ears, a faint furrow of the brow.  

Maddie blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Shadow’s expression.  

“Sonic,” she said, “how many times have I told you to stop roping Tom into your games?”  

Sonic’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? It’s his game!”  

Shadow shrugged, his face the picture of calm innocence. “I merely suggested it. Sonic was enthusiastic.”  

Sonic glared at him. “You liar!”  

Maddie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Sonic, you’ve got to take responsibility for these things. You’re always dragging Tom into your chaos.”

Sonic’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? He started it!” He gestured wildly toward Shadow, who stood unbothered, arms folded, his expression unreadable.

Maddie walked over to Shadow, looking him over. “Are you okay? Did the rope hurt you at all?”

Shadow tilted his head slightly, his usually stoic demeanor softening just enough to seem almost vulnerable. “I’m fine,” he said quietly.

Maddie smiled and, to Sonic’s absolute horror, reached down to scratch Shadow gently behind the ear.

Shadow blinked in mild surprise, his eyes closing momentarily as his shoulders relaxed. He almost leaned into the touch, a barely audible hum escaping him.

Sonic froze, his jaw hitting the metaphorical floor. He pointed an accusing finger at the scene before him. “Are you seeing this, Dad? Are you seeing this? She’s scratching him behind the ear!”

Tom, still dusting himself off, glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah… that’s happening.”

“Why is that happening?!” Sonic yelled, his voice climbing an octave. “I’m the hero here!”

Maddie straightened and crossed her arms, giving Sonic a look that could rival a disappointed parent’s. “Sonic, I don’t see why you’re so worked up. Shadow’s being perfectly reasonable.”

“Reasonable?!” Sonic gestured frantically toward Shadow, who was now standing perfectly still, looking ever so slightly smug. “He’s a master manipulator! He’s playing you!”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, her voice calm and even. “He’s also not the one who dragged my husband across the driveway.”

Shadow’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “Indeed.”

Sonic threw his hands in the air. “Oh, come on! This is ridiculous!” He turned to Tom for backup. “Dad, you see what’s going on, right?”

Tom held up his hands, still brushing dirt off his shirt. “I think I’m just gonna sit this one out, bud.”

Sonic groaned and flopped onto the grass, muttering something about “no one appreciating the real hero around here.” Shadow, meanwhile, stood by Maddie’s side, his expression neutral once again, though his crimson eyes glimmered with satisfaction.

Before Sonic could respond, Maddie straightened up, her hand leaving Shadow’s head. “That’s enough, both of you,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Sonic, you’re cleaning up this mess. Shadow, help Tom inside.”

Shadow gave Maddie a curt nod. “Of course.” He turned to Tom, offering a hand to help him up.

Tom hesitated, then accepted it, muttering, “Thanks.”

As Shadow escorted Tom toward the house, Sonic stood fuming in the driveway. “This is a conspiracy,” he grumbled to himself, picking up the tangled rope. “A Shadow-Maddie conspiracy!”

From the porch, Shadow glanced back, his lips curving into the faintest smirk.

“Did you see that?!” Sonic shouted at no one in particular. “He’s mocking me!”

The dining table was filled with the sound of clinking utensils and lively banter. Maddie and Tom sat at either end, Sonic and Shadow across from each other in the middle, with Tails and Knuckles squeezed in on either side. Plates of food were scattered across the table, the meal a mix of Maddie’s cooking and Tails’ attempt at “improving” dessert with some kind of experimental frosting.

Knuckles was already on his fourth helping, balancing a breadstick on one hand while spearing roasted vegetables with the other. “So, wait,” he said through a mouthful of food, “you’re saying the breadsticks are always free?”

Tom nodded, chuckling. “That’s how Olive Garden works, Knuckles.”

Knuckles leaned back in his chair, his expression full of wonder. “Why don’t we live there?”

“Because we’d bankrupt the place,” Tails muttered, picking at his food.

Across the table, Sonic leaned toward Shadow, narrowing his eyes. “I know what you’re doing. Acting all polite at the table like you didn’t try to out-skate me earlier.”

Shadow took a measured sip of water, setting his glass down with precision. “I wasn’t acting. I am polite.”

Maddie, hearing this, gave Shadow an approving smile. “He’s been a perfect gentleman all evening, Sonic. Maybe you could take a page from his book.”

Sonic let out an exaggerated groan. “Seriously? What is this—Shadow Appreciation Day?”

Knuckles perked up. “Wait, is that a thing? Are there snacks?”

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “No, Knuckles, it’s not a thing.”

Shadow said nothing, but his gaze softened as he looked around the table. The chaos, the bickering, the laughter—it was loud, unpredictable, and utterly unlike anything he’d known before. And yet, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like an outsider watching from the shadows. He felt… present. Included.

Belonging.

The realization settled over him like a warm blanket, filling a void he hadn’t even been fully aware of. He let his gaze linger on each of them—Maddie’s patient smile, Tom’s easy humor, Tails’ quiet curiosity, Knuckles’ unbridled enthusiasm, and Sonic’s ever-present energy.

“Shadow?” Tom’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention.

Shadow blinked, realizing he’d been staring at his plate for several moments without moving. He looked up to find Tom watching him with a concerned expression.

“You okay?” Tom asked gently.

Shadow hesitated, the weight of the question catching him off guard. He glanced around the table again, at this strange, mismatched group of people who had somehow made room for him in their lives. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, his voice steady but softer than usual. Then, after a pause, he added, “I just... I think I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“I guess some things have a tendency to change,” Tom said with a chuckle, reaching for his glass. He raised it slightly, looking around the table. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Here’s to… all of us. This weird, wonderful little family we’ve got going here.”

Maddie raised her glass as well, smiling warmly. “To family.”

Tails and Knuckles clinked their glasses—or, in Knuckles’ case, his water bottle—against theirs. Even Sonic joined in as he muttered, “Yeah, okay, fine. To family.”

Shadow hesitated, the simple gesture of raising a glass feeling oddly significant to him. But as the others waited, their smiles encouraging, he picked up his glass and held it aloft. His movements were deliberate, almost reverent, as if the act carried far more weight for him than for anyone else at the table.

“To family,” he echoed.

The clinking of glasses was followed by the sound of laughter and the resumption of playful banter. Knuckles was already halfway through plotting a trip to Olive Garden, with Tails attempting to explain why an all-you-can-eat breadstick strategy probably wasn’t sustainable.

Shadow, meanwhile, sat back in his chair, his expression serene as he let the noise wash over him. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t focused on his past or his purpose.

He was simply here.