Chapter Text
Silver clung to Cowboy Shadow's arm like he was auditioning to be a particularly clingy barnacle.
They had been walking through the fog-choked cobblestone streets for maybe five minutes. Maybe. It was hard to tell. The fog made the whole place feel like it was caught in a snow globe filled with ghost breath and drama.
The gas lamps lining the road flickered just a little too dramatically. A raven had followed them for three blocks. And the last time Silver stepped in a puddle, it hissed at him.
"You good?" Cowboy Shadow asked flatly, his bootsteps echoing in eerie rhythm against the stones.
"No!" Silver whisper-squeaked. "No, I'm not good, because we just crossed into a whole dimension where I'm 87% sure Edgar Allan Poe would buy a summer home—and that door just creaked by itself."
He pointed wildly at a crooked townhouse, its warped wooden door swinging gently open in the breeze. Inside was only darkness. Too much darkness.
Cowboy Shadow stared at it. Stared long and hard. Then deadpanned, "Yeah, well. Door's got manners. Knows to open for its guests."
"Shadow!"
"I'm just sayin'."
Silver flapped his arms like he was trying to fly away. "You are not helping. I'm being emotionally haunted."
Another distant clang! rang out—a pipe? A bell? A body? Who could say?
Silver yelped and leapt half a foot in the air. "Okay—okay! That was a vampire. That had vampire energy."
Cowboy Shadow finally stopped walking. Turned to him. "Boy. What in the hell is a vampire?"
Silver looked at him like he'd just asked what a hat was.
"You're kidding."
"Do I look like I'm kiddin'?"
"You've never heard of vampires?!"
Cowboy Shadow looked around slowly. At the fog. At the lamplight. At the looming architecture. Then he dead-eyed Silver. "I've seen a possum suck a snake's blood once. That count?"
Silver choked on air. "Oh my god."
Cowboy Shadow grinned. "Didn't think so."
The town curved ahead, revealing a wide square with a dry fountain and a lot of shadowy benches that definitely looked like places people sat to brood and plot. Every step echoed like they were walking on the bones of a ghost's poetry.
Silver's voice dropped into a whisper as he stared up at the looming stone church at the end of the square. "This is old-style Pennsylvania. Like, 1800s Pennsylvanian Gothic. Like...I've read exactly one historical book report about this kind of architecture and half of it was about vampires. You know, creatures that suck blood and creep around at night. I knew this looked familiar."
He grabbed Cowboy Shadow's coat. "We have to be quiet. Vampires are real here."
Cowboy Shadow raised an eyebrow. "...You mean to tell me this whole dimension's just full of cape-wearin', tea-sippin' neck suckers?"
Silver nodded hard. "Yes. And we don't have garlic. Or mirrors. Or stakes. And I am not sparkly enough to get out of this alive."
Cowboy Shadow blinked once.
Then patted Silver's shoulder. "Well. Least you're the prettiest bait I ever did drag through a ghost town."
Silver shrieked. "SHADOW!!"
Cowboy Shadow chuckled low in his throat. "Hush up, Butterfingers," he muttered, stepping past Silver and into the square, boots thudding solidly against the wet cobblestones. "You keep hollerin' like that, you're gonna summon somethin' with too many teeth and a fancy accent."
"I can't help it!" Silver hissed, practically climbing up the back of Shadow's coat like a terrified squirrel. "This whole place feels like it's waiting for a jump scare. I swear, if a rat in a waistcoat taps me on the shoulder, I'm just gonna lay down and accept death."
The wind moaned as they passed the old fountain, and a loose shutter somewhere above them banged twice in the distance. Silver let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a yip.
Cowboy Shadow smirked under his hat. "You always this dramatic, or is that just your ghost town personality comin' out?"
"Dramatic?! I'm being reasonable!" Silver clutched his own arms. "We're out here in the foggy murder dimension with one ring, no supplies, no backup, and a church that's giving me seventh-grade trauma flashbacks, and you're acting like we're on a Sunday picnic!"
"Yeah, well," Cowboy Shadow muttered, scanning the looming buildings, "I ain't never had a picnic that smelled this much like mildew."
A crow cawed overhead and flapped away like it had a dark secret to deliver. Silver flinched hard enough to trip on his own foot, then glared up at Shadow.
"Okay, okay, that's it. This was a wasted ring. You know it. I know it. Even that possibly possessed crow knows it. Sonic's not here."
Cowboy Shadow didn't stop walking.
Silver groaned and grabbed his sleeve. "Come on! He's not here! He wouldn't go to some gothic cobblestone dimension to soul search! He's Sonic! He'd go to, like, a volcano dimension! Or an abandoned theme park with spikes!"
Cowboy Shadow kept walking, dragging Silver along with zero effort. "And yet," he drawled, "this's the dimension you cracked open with your butterfingers. So unless you got a better idea on where our hedgehog went, I'm goin' with the ghost-church hunch."
Silver groaned again, louder this time. "Oh, great! Cowboy Shadow's got a spooky hunch. You know what that means? We're gonna get hexed! I'm too psychic to get hexed! I'll never unscramble my aura!"
Cowboy Shadow tipped his hat lower. "You'll be fine. Hexes ain't got nothin' on me."
"Then you get hexed and I'll be emotional support!"
They reached the edge of the sleepy town, where the cobblestone path bled into overgrown weeds and the forest began—dense, dark, and dripping with fog thick as old soup. Trees clawed toward the sky like crooked fingers, their bark blackened and slick. The gaslights didn't reach this far. Here, it felt like the air forgot how to move.
Silver halted, already half-turned around. "Okay. That's enough of this vampire picnic dimension. We're going back. I vote we throw the ring into a well and pretend this never happened."
Cowboy Shadow didn't move. He was staring at the treeline.
Silver followed his gaze—and blinked. "Shadow?"
The fog shifted.
Growl.
Low. Deep. Bone-vibrating.
Silver stiffened. "...That was not a poetic wind howl."
Cowboy Shadow's hand dropped to his hip.
Growl.
Closer.
Silver inched behind him nervously. "Shadow, buddy, partner, amigo—what exactly is that noise?"
Cowboy Shadow didn't answer.
He drew his revolver with one smooth motion, the metal glinting cold in the mist. His stance was rigid, like a wolf ready to snap. "Get behind me."
"I am behind you!" Silver squeaked. "And I would like to stay that way!"
The growl came again—but louder this time. Wrong-sounding. Like it was climbing out of something human and getting stuck halfway. The trees shifted.
Then—
CRACK!
The branches exploded outward, and a massive blur of fur and claws launched from the treeline like a cannonball.
Silver screamed.
Cowboy Shadow fired—once, twice—but it was too fast.
WHAM!
The beast slammed into him, claws out, teeth flashing in the misty moonlight. Cowboy Shadow was ripped off his feet and thrown backward, his hat flying into the dirt as he hit the ground with a gut-punching thud.
Silver stumbled back, eyes wide, gasping. "SHADOW—?!"
Through the settling fog, the creature emerged fully now—blue fur, glowing eyes, jagged teeth bared in a snarl. Muscular. Feral.
But unmistakably familiar.
Silver's breath hitched. "...Sonic?"
The Werehog growled again.
Cowboy Shadow groaned from the ground, spitting dirt out of his mouth as he rolled to one knee. "Ain't no way that's my hedgehog..." he muttered, dragging the back of his glove across his lip, where blood was already starting to drip.
The Werehog snarled again—louder this time. It crouched, thick arms flexing, claws digging into the earth.
Then it charged.
Cowboy Shadow stood fully, spinning his revolver back up with a snap. "Alright then," he growled, eyes narrowing. "Let's dance, beast-boy."
Silver shouted, "WAIT, DON'T—!"
Too late.
Cowboy Shadow fired—but the Werehog dodged, bounding forward with horrifying speed. In one swift, brutal motion, it leapt and slashed, claws tearing across Shadow's chest.
"GHK—!"
Cowboy Shadow staggered back, coat ripped wide open, blood darkening the fabric in a thick, spreading stain. He dropped to one knee, wheezing—but even then, he raised the revolver again, trembling but not backing down.
Silver screamed, "STOP! THAT'S SONIC!!"
But the Werehog didn't stop.
He loomed over Shadow, growling, lips curled back over shining teeth. One claw lifted—
And then—
A piercing whistle cut through the night like a blade of silver.
Everything froze.
The Werehog's ears twitched. His eyes went wide for a flicker of a second—then his entire body jerked back like a scolded dog.
Out of nowhere, something landed in the square with the quiet grace of a falling shadow.
Boots touched stone. A long black coat flared in the fog.
He stood tall. Dark. Elegant. His eyes glowed like blood under moonlight, and two sharp fangs glinted just beneath a calm, bored expression.
A Vampire Shadow.
He tilted his head just slightly, dark quills slicked back and pristine despite the mist curling around his boots. His crimson gaze swept over the scene—Silver, trembling near a crumbling fence post. Cowboy Shadow, bleeding and half-collapsed on the cobblestones, still trying to aim his gun. And the Werehog, massive and coiled with leftover aggression, fangs still wet.
"...Heel," Vampire Shadow said, voice smooth as aged wine.
The Werehog's snarling faded instantly. He blinked once, then huffed through his nose like a calmed bull and trotted obediently to Vampire Shadow's side. With an eager little grunt, he sat heavily on his haunches—tail thumping the stones behind him—and looked over at the vampire like a dog waiting for praise.
Vampire Shadow—without breaking eye contact with Cowboy Shadow—reached out and gently scratched under the Werehog's chin.
"There," he murmured. "Good beast. Still dramatic, but manageable."
Cowboy Shadow coughed. "Dramatic?! He tried to gut me like a Sunday hog!"
Vampire Shadow gave him a long, unreadable look, then raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "And you attempted to shoot him like an alley dog. I'd say the theatrics were mutual."
Cowboy Shadow grunted, holstering his revolver with a wince as blood continued to soak into the torn front of his duster. "Tch... fair enough."
Silver darted to his side, eyes wide with worry. "You're bleeding a lot—like, a lot a lot—can I—?"
Cowboy Shadow didn't answer, just grumbled and gave the tiniest nod.
Silver immediately hooked an arm under his shoulder and helped him up with effort, staggering under the weight. "Okay, up we go—whoa, okay, why are you so dense? Do you eat rocks in your dimension?!"
"Cornbread," Cowboy Shadow muttered. "Lotta cornbread."
Vampire Shadow took a slow, languid step forward, coat whispering around his ankles as he began to circle them like a hunting hawk. The Werehog stayed seated, eyes drowsy now, ears twitching occasionally but calm under his master's watch.
Silver tensed, still trying to support Cowboy Shadow, whose boots dragged slightly with each breath.
Vampire Shadow's crimson eyes never blinked. "Now then," he said softly. "Let's revisit the more pressing mystery."
He suddenly grabbed Cowboy Shadow by the front of his blood-soaked coat and yanked him forward with terrifying speed.
"Why," he growled, low and dangerous, "do you look exactly like me?"
"GHH—!" Cowboy Shadow hissed, glaring up at him but barely able to stay upright.
Silver screeched like a kettle about to blow. "WAIT WAIT WAIT—HE'S A VARIANT!! HE'S A VARIANT!! FROM A—A COWBOY DIMENSION!! THEY HAVE DESERTS AND CATTLE AND SPITTOONS—PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM!!"
Vampire Shadow froze, pupils narrowing slightly.
Silver panted. "W-we're just looking for our Sonic! Our version! Blue hedgehog, fast, cocky, incredibly frustrating—YOU JUST HAD HIM MAUL MY FRIEND!"
Vampire Shadow's grip didn't loosen right away. Instead, his hand shifted higher—cool fingers closing around Cowboy Shadow's jaw as he tilted his head like a doll on inspection.
He studied the bloodied variant's face with unsettling intensity, thumb grazing the bruising cheekbone where Werehog Sonic had landed his first hit.
Cowboy Shadow growled low. "Get your fancy hands off me, Count Bucktooth."
"Hm," Vampire Shadow mused aloud, ignoring the threat. "Same eyes. Same voice, albeit less refined. Same scowl."
His other hand flicked the edge of Cowboy's ruined coat, pulling it back disdainfully. "Different taste in fashion, though. This is... what? Cowhide and dust? You look like a rejected theater extra from a ghastly gun show."
Silver, gripping Cowboy's arm, whimpered faintly. "He's bleeding out and you're roasting his wardrobe?!"
"And you," Vampire Shadow continued, as if Silver hadn't spoken, "reek of fear."
He leaned down toward Silver's wide-eyed face, lips curling into the faintest, condescending smile. "It's delightful. Like watching a bird tremble before the first snow."
Silver made an embarrassed gurgling sound and immediately hid behind Cowboy Shadow again, which was impressive, considering Cowboy Shadow was half-slumped and still very injured.
Vampire Shadow turned, sweeping his coat as he walked back toward the seated Werehog Sonic. "I don't know what foolish twist of fate opened a portal into my territory, but I'm beginning to lose patience."
He ran a long, clawed hand along the Werehog's furred head. The beast leaned into the touch with a low, rumbling purr.
"I could simply let my love finish what he started."
The Werehog's claws flexed against the stone. His glowing eyes locked back onto Cowboy Shadow with a fresh, eager hunger.
"Unless..." Vampire Shadow murmured, "you both explain exactly what you're doing in my domain, before the blood in your veins cools with the fog."
Silver started shaking. "Okay! Okay, I'll talk! I'll explain everything! W-we're not here to mess with your territory or...or fight your love-slash-pet, okay?! We're looking for our Sonic! Our version!"
Vampire Shadow tilted his head slightly, crimson eyes narrowing. "Define your Sonic."
"He's blue, obviously," Silver rushed, voice cracking. "Not a werehog. Usually. Super fast, super loud, very heroic in a self-destructive kind of way—kind of like if someone gave a tornado ADHD and a heart of gold!"
Cowboy Shadow coughed behind him, muttering, "And a knack for trouble so bad it could qualify for a license."
Silver nodded furiously. "Yes! That too!"
Vampire Shadow's gaze flicked between the two of them, expression unreadable. "And why, exactly, are you looking for him?"
Silver opened his mouth, then stopped. Bit his lip. His hands dropped, fingers curling into fists.
He looked up at Vampire Shadow. For once, completely serious.
"Because the dimensions are collapsing."
The air seemed to hush at that.
"We've seen it," Silver continued. "Glitch cores. They started showing up after someone named Infinite died—his energy got twisted, scattered across timelines. Our Sonic... he took it on himself to try and fix it. Alone."
He swallowed, hard.
"He left. Without telling anyone. And now we're chasing him across dimensions trying to catch up before one of them kills him. Or worse."
Vampire Shadow was still, his dark features like carved marble in the fog. But his fingers paused mid-stroke on Werehog Sonic's snout.
Silver's voice dropped to a whisper. "We've already seen so many glitch cores. Camelot had one, but it was small. So did the Pirate world. Our Shadow, he absorbed the glitch cores in both dimensions just to contain them."
Cowboy Shadow gave a weak grunt beside him. "He's dyin' slow."
Silver's voice wavered. "If we don't stop this... if we don't find Sonic in time... he won't be the only one."
Silence fell. Thick and eerie.
Then Vampire Shadow slowly turned, cloak trailing like liquid shadow behind him.
He stared at them both with the kind of stare that could chill bone.
Then finally, he spoke.
"...Your Sonic sounds reckless."
Silver shifted on his feet, wringing his hands together. He glanced at Cowboy Shadow, who was still bleeding, still breathing heavily, and still giving Vampire Shadow a glare sharp enough to split timber. But Silver looked past it.
Past the fog. Past the danger. Past the primal part of his brain that was screaming don't ask him, don't trust him, don't invite Dracula into your life.
He took a breath anyway.
"Will you help us?"
Cowboy Shadow snapped his head sideways, eyes narrowing like he'd just watched Silver try to lick a cactus. "Pardon?"
Silver didn't look away from Vampire Shadow. "I mean it. You're powerful. And—and terrifying. And your...hound is also terrifying, but he's loyal to you, which might count for something. If you can help us find our Sonic—track him, guide us through the danger—I think... I think we might actually stand a chance."
There was a long beat of silence.
Then Cowboy Shadow muttered under his breath, "Butterfingers, you sure this's the type'a fanged fancy man we wanna be hitchin' our hopes to?"
"I'm not sure of anything right now," Silver hissed out of the side of his mouth, "but we're basically out of rings, nearly dead, and stuck in the Scooby-Doo-est dimension we've landed in so far. So unless you've got a spare portal and a garlic necklace in that coat, yes, I'm asking him."
Cowboy Shadow huffed. "Hail Mary it is."
Vampire Shadow chuckled—low, velvety, and as smooth as aged wine. His smile curled, revealing a flash of fangs far too pleased with itself.
"Oh, I do adore desperation," he purred, hands folding neatly behind his back. "So honest. So easy to manipulate."
He stepped closer, the fog parting like it was afraid to touch him. "Very well. I'll entertain your little journey."
Silver exhaled in relief—too soon.
"On one condition."
There it was.
Vampire Shadow turned slightly, petting the Werehog's head like he was grooming a prized wolfhound. "I will lend you my skills. My power. And my hound." Werehog Sonic let out a low, happy rumble and nuzzled into his side.
"In return, you will owe me a debt."
Silver blinked. "A... what kind of debt?"
Vampire Shadow didn't answer immediately. He simply looked at them with a gleam in his eyes that said you'll find out eventually.
Then he smiled.
"Let's call it... a favor, to be named at a time most inconvenient."
Cowboy Shadow grunted. "Y'all really lean into the dramatics here, don'tcha."
Vampire Shadow gave a theatrical sigh, as though the very concept of subtlety offended him. "I am dramatic, darling. Eternity's too dull without flair."
He stepped forward once more, the air cooling tangibly as his presence loomed.
"But yes," he added, voice suddenly low and razor-smooth, "I will help you find your Sonic. I will stalk the planes between dimensions, sniff out his scent, drag him back if need be. You will owe me—but I will assist."
Cowboy Shadow muttered, "Not real comfortin', hearin' it like that."
Vampire Shadow ignored him. Instead, he crouched beside the wounded variant, gloved fingers reaching once more—not to seize or threaten, but to brush the ruined coat aside and inspect the gash across Cowboy's chest. "My hound's claws tear deeper than they appear. It'll fester."
He placed a hand directly over the wound.
Cowboy Shadow immediately slapped it away. "I ain't lettin' some neck-suckin' devil magic near me, partner."
"I could let it rot."
Silver shot forward. "NO— I mean—maybe just... maybe let him try? Please? He might have healing powers!"
Vampire Shadow tilted his head in thought. "They are not healing powers. They are... preservation techniques."
"That's not better!" Silver squeaked.
Still, Cowboy Shadow grimaced, then relented. "Fine. But if I wake up with fangs and a taste for blood, I'm shootin' somebody."
Vampire Shadow pressed his palm flat to the wound. Cowboy Shadow hissed—but as the cold seeped in, the pain numbed. Blood slowed. The torn flesh didn't quite knit, but it dulled, scabbed, and sealed just enough for movement without agony.
"There," Vampire Shadow purred. "You'll live. Try not to ruin my work with more flailing."
Cowboy Shadow tugged his coat back, scowling. "Fancy hands off my scars, sparkle-fangs."
While they exchanged glares, Silver had begun pacing again—head down, hands moving as he thought aloud.
"Okay, okay, so Sonic's not here. Not in this one. We know that. We landed, and there was no trace of him, but... but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't have stopped. Not when the dimensions are collapsing."
He muttered, mostly to himself now. "He saw what happened in the Pirate dimension. The corruption. Infinite's glitch cores. The Camelot dimension wasn't too bad, but still—he must've known we were running out of time when Shadow started to get worse. He'd go somewhere important. Somewhere risky. Somewhere he thought he could help."
Vampire Shadow, bored again, leaned against a fog-veiled statue and dusted his coat sleeve. "This is fascinating, truly. Is this your strategy? Mutter until epiphany strikes?"
Silver froze.
His head snapped up.
His eyes widened.
"I know where he went."