Chapter Text
“Shadow.”
He paused when the door closed, ears flicking back as he heard the man’s voice. Just great , the last person he wanted to see was right in front of him, and had likely been waiting there for him to return. His blue gaze was like ice water running down Shadow’s spine, and his voice was just as cold. “I’ve been expecting you back for hours now. Why are you back so late?”
He swallowed, dipping his head, forcing his quills to flatten. This was just another performance he put on, another show. But instead of an entire audience, it was just him and his grandfather, who was still waiting for the hedgehog’s response. “Practice. And I had to prepare my new pointe shoes.”
Even to Shadow, the half-lie was obvious. His grandfather only took off his glasses, breathing on them before wiping away the fog. To most people, Gerald Robotnik would seem calm, composed, even relaxed in the comfort of his home, talking with his grandson about his ballet practice. But Shadow had learned to not hold his breath for too long. All of Gerald’s movements were composed, a secret dance only Shadow knew about, and one he’d learned the steps to years ago.
“Now, Shadow. Don’t think I’m so easy to mislead. Sit down, son.”
He gulped as Gerald pointed to the chair, and Shadow hesitantly set his bag down, sitting in the chair and facing his grandfather. His head was hung low, while Gerald stood in front of him, imposing, and a silent threat to the Mobian. “Shadow, where were you?”
“I told you, practice. And I needed to prepare my pointes.” Gerald only frowned at him, and Shadow shrank back, ears flicking. “That is not a good lie, my boy. For one thing, your pointe shoes never left your room. And the second, when I came by the studio today to see if you’ve… improved , you were gone. So, I will ask again: Where were you, and why were you out so late?”
His only response was for his cheeks to flush in embarrassment. He never should have left the studio, and gone to the cafe with Sonic. He should’ve been practicing, as his grandfather had told him to. If only that blue hedgehog hadn’t been so insistent on getting him out of the studio. But his grandfather was waiting for his answer. His honest answer.
“I was invited to go to a cafe for lunch, Grandfather.”
Gerald’s eyes narrowed, and Shadow resisted the urge to squirm under the intense blue gaze. His grandfather had always been an intimidating man, that part was certain. But Shadow was always caught off guard by how much it always affected him. His grip on his bag tightened, gloved claws digging into the padded strap, swallowing the lump in his throat as Gerald eyed him. “I see. So, you were wasting time, as usual. I expected better of you, but I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Anger shot through him at the statement. He’d been working nonstop for months, just trying to get back into the swing of things. His gloves had thinned at the fingertips and palms, his paw pads had been rubbed raw from hitting the floor. His ankle was throbbing, and he’d even skipped out on meals to continue, scarfing down the bars in the studio before returning home. His anger must’ve shown on his face, because Gerald simply squeezed his shoulder, not too loosely, but certainly tighter than it needed to be. “You have been slipping up for, how long now?”
“Five weeks,” he mumbled, looking away.
“Speak up and stop mumbling. And look at me when you talk. You know it’s bad manners.” Gerald chided him once more, fingernails digging into his flesh slightly.
“Five weeks, Grandfather.”
“ And how much has changed?”
Shadow looked down once more. “Nothing…” “ Exactly . Nothing has changed, Shadow.” The human’s hand dropped, and Shadow’s hands adjusted their grip on the bag strap as he tried to ignore the tingling sensation the unkind touch left. “You are supposed to travel to Spagonia in three months. Your performances have been subpar of late, but that can all change once you get it together, and actually finish this!” Anger was seeping into Gerald’s tone. Rage at the hedgehog’s lack of progress growing, anger at him wasting precious hours, and Shadow was certain some other complaint was mixed in.
“I doubt I can speak for her, but I’m sure Maria would be disappointed in you, Shadow.” He froze, ears lowering as he thought back to her. She’d danced with him, long ago. She’d told him to continue, since it’d made him happy. He remembered running to her when her classes ended, or how she’d walk him through the basic positions. Maria had told him to continue, to dance because she knew it made him happy. Disappointing her was the last thing he’d want.
“Do you want to disappoint her, boy?”
“No…”
“Then, get back to your studio, and continue. I want to see progress by tomorrow morning.”
His head lowered, shoulders slumping. Slowly, quietly, Shadow began walking back towards the door. His mind screamed at him to challenge the old man, to tell his grandfather that he’d been practicing nonstop, but he also knew Gerald was a stubborn man. There was no use in trying to change his mind. No matter how hard he’d tried, it’d never happened, and it had only made everything much, much worse.
“Oh, and Shadow?”
He stopped, turning around to look back at his grandfather. A spark of hope flared inside his chest. “What is it?” He watched as Gerald walked closer, looking down at the Mobian. Gerald simply handed him a box. “Open it.”
Shadow did. Inside, a pair of ruby red pointes with black embellishments greeted him, a stark contrast to his well-worn pale blue ones hidden within his bag. The satin was nice and new, the toe box stiff and the elastic not yet stretched. The spark of hope died in his chest, reduced to a sputtering ember in floodwaters.
“Practice in these from now on. And for the sake of Chaos, don’t do that thing with the yarn, or bending the arch or pouring glue into the toe boxes. You’ll ruin them.” Another wave of anger washed over him. How could his grandfather be so ignorant ? Did he not know that glueing the toe box helped it keep shape? Did Gerald not know that bending the shoe’s arch helped it conform to his pawed feet, which made it more comfortable to dance in? Did he even know the purpose of darning? The words came out of his mouth before he could even stop them.
“It’s called darning , and it helps to quiet my landings after a jump.” Shadow quickly snapped his jaw shut, aghast at himself. Gerald only stared at him, one eye twitching. The hedgehog felt himself shrink down, his quills raising and puffing slightly before he was picked up by Gerald, the older man gripping his scruff tightly. The new pointe shoes fell to the ground, tumbling out of their box onto the stone floor of the entryway. “Get back to the studio. Now . I don’t want to see you return until tomorrow evening, or whenever you finally learn a move a mere child can perfect.”
He let Shadow drop onto the ground. The hedgehog braced himself for the impact, landing on his side. A bolt of pain shot through his body. Gerald was still glaring at him. Snatching the red shoes and stuffing them in his bag, Shadow scurried out the door, wincing with each step. His arm hurt. His ankle was screaming at him, but all Shadow wanted to do was get back to his studio as fast as he could. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, until he saw Rouge’s name. He hit the call button without a second thought, and listened to the phone ring.
“Hey, hun! I’m busy and can’t come to the phone right now. But just leave me a message, and I’ll probably get back to you.” He gripped the device tighter as he heard the familiar message beep, voice shaking as he began to speak.
“Rouge, it’s Shadow. I… I think I need someone to talk to, and if you can’t… can you,” he gulped, forcing the next words out of his mouth.
“Can you get Sonic?”