Under the Name of Love

Shadow appeared on a grassy plateau surrounded by tall, forested peaks. He closed his eyes and took in a long, slow breath, filling his lungs with crisp, clean mountain air, fragrant with the fertile lushness of summer. The sun shone down, warming his dark quills. Slow, he opened his eyes and focused on the beauty around him with a clarity he didn’t recognize. For the first time, in a very, very long time, Shadow felt…content? Hopeful?

No, it was more than that. A feeling so distant in his memory he could barely name it. He felt great. He felt amazing! Even more than that, he did not feel ashamed to feel happy. He could allow himself to feel something greater than just grim resignation. He would never admit it, but Rouge was right, he was allowed to be happy.

His ear twitched at someone’s approach. “Agent Shadow, sir.” Shadow turned from the breathtaking view and faced the field of destroyed robots he’d created (others were present but not necessary) the previous day, now spotted with Resistance and GUN forces conducting a routine clean up. “We’ve located several disabled robots that are reading above ten mili-sieverts. We’re requesting your immediate assistance.” The man wore a hazmat suit, but the hood was unzipped and pulled back.

“Lead the way.”

The Doctor had brought a muddled host with him on this particular outing, perhaps a bit short on more modern models after the War. His current epoch of constructs exclusively used compact chaos drives to function (a clever evolution of his grandfather’s invention), but some his earlier work consumed much messier fuel. Nuclear fusion was dangerous enough under controlled circumstances, but placed in the chest of a badnik on a crash course with a particularly handsome blue hedgehog…

Like he’d been asked, Shadow had waited for Sonic to heal. He’d dutifully acted like nothing had happened. No war, no imprisonment, no fucking wretched, scrawny jackals. Shadow had already waited years. Another few months wasn’t going to deter him. He was willing to wait for it.

When he was ready, Sonic had plopped down in Shadow’s lap and gazed at him with those sharp, emerald eyes. The corner of Shadow’s mouth lifted slightly at the memory. The weight of him in his lap, the firmness of his athletic form, the brilliance of his coat. His smile.

A series of yellow markers bearing a circle with six equal segments of alternating color had been stuck into the ground forming a parameter around a pile of trashed badniks. Shadow walked past the barrier and a prickle along his skin as the radiation levels rose. He circled the pile and found the point where the burning was greatest. As fast as his cells died, they were replaced. With the Chaos Emerald tucked securely amongst his quills, it would take a lot more than this to slow him down.

He lifted and tossed away large, crumpled masses of steel. He felt a spike of heat as he uncovered the offending badnik. His face and chest began to sting. It was a very old model and its chest cavity was burst open like a ripe tomato, all the coolant soaked into the fertile soil of the plateau. Shadow peeled back the skin and reached inside. Through the leather of his gloves, he felt the ionizing radiation contend with his internalized chaos energy as he ripped out the tiny melting down core.

Truth be told, Shadow despised GUN. There was a time when he would have ripped it from the earth, root and stem, and salted the ground in which it germinated. But over the years he had learned to appreciate a level of nuance. Working with GUN allowed him access to threats like this before they had a chance to harm. And, Shadow could rationalize allying with anyone against Doctor Robotnik.

Waste like this core was poison to any living thing for thousands of years. Shadow held it tightly in his hands and pulled energy from his Emerald. A field formed around the core, distorting its appearance and inverting its colors. He concentrated, continually feeding chaos energy into the field at a metered rate and into his hands as they absorbed countless years of radiation in a few minutes. After a few minutes, the burning in his hands receded and he released the core, now fully inert, and let it fall to the ground.

Shadow took several slow steady breaths. He was still developing mastery of this application of Chaos Control.

Yesterday, Sonic had been clearly, extremely drunk and had taken such a beating from Metal Sonic that Shadow had been forced to rescue him. Rouge had not helped the situation at all. Anyone else would have been on the ground (or in the hospital), but Sonic hadn’t been slowed in the least. Snarky, lascivious, and teasing. He’d writhed like the ocean beneath Shadow, wild, unfathomable, and oh so alluring. Shadow grit his teeth.

The smell of him! Every grassy field he ran through, every spray of ocean mist, every breath of sandy dunes, and every splash of petrichor was recorded in full in the symphony of his scent. Shadow had buried his muzzle into the crook of Sonic neck and breathed deeply. It was the scent of all the beauty in the world. This wonderful, wide world and all its miracles. A song with a billion harmonizing versus just for Shadow.

And then after, as they lay side by side in that small bed, the things Sonic had said…

Shadow found his pulse racing, his face flush, and his chest heaving. Stop it! He had shit to do. He centered himself, pushed the distracting (tantalizing) thoughts down and away, and left the pile of shredded steel.

As he proceeded to the next nuclear powered badnik, a shout rang out. “CLEAR!” Followed closely by a muted explosion. GUN’s explosive neutralization team was hard at work. Many of the badniks had been mechanically dangerous, but the larger ones were equipped with missiles or other munitions that could not be safely moved. How many cubic miles had the Doctor rendered unsafe with his wanton and megalomaniacal whims?

“Almost got it! Pull!” A trio of Mobians (badger, mouse, cat) in Resistance garb tried to pry open the casing on a centipede shaped badnik. Shadow deviated from his path and approached.

“Step aside.” He commanded. The Mobians look up at him and one of them curses, their ears pinning in fear. Warily they back away. He reminds himself that he shouldn’t resent them their fear. He has much to atone for and an eternity to do so.

He focuses chaos energy into his hands and arms. With a swift motion, he tears the metal like tissue paper and a flock of flickys rushes out and into the sky. The third power source the Doctor utilized: living animals. Most won’t be as lucky as this birds. Shadow turns and returns to his GUN escort. One of the Mobians has the grace to thank him as he leaves.

The disarmament continues. Shadow neutralizes two more cores in meltdown. Breath comes hard, pulse is slow. He feels drained. Disgusting. He should be better than this. He is better than this. Nothing should tire him. “Good work, sir. That is the last of them that we’ve found so far.” The human salutes him. Should he ask for the man’s name? No, that’s foolish, it’s useless information.

“I’ll deal with any leaking or damaged chaos drives now.” Shadow’s ears perk and he looked upward. Rouge’s helicopter was approaching. Another benefit of working with GUN, Rouge’s freedom and mobility. Something in him jumps. He wants to talk to her. “Nevermind, that can wait.” He heads towards the landing helicopter without waiting for an answer.

There isn’t much room, but Rouge expertly lands among the wreckage. The door slides open and she spots him. Her face lights up with an annoyingly knowing smile. “Hello handsome, did you have a good time last night?” She winks.

His quills tense, slightly, but he otherwise refuses to take the bait. “What are you doing here Rouge? The field isn’t ready for salvage yet. It’s too dangerous to purloin.”

Rouge grimaced. “I’m not here for fun, darling. I’ve been roped into being a taxi service.” With a flick of her wings, she floats down from the helicopter, revealing the red Echidna behind her.

“Agent Shadow.” Knuckles says as greeting.

“Commander Knuckles.” Shadow responds.

Rouge waves her hand dismissively. “Kiss later boys.” Both of them snap their gaze to her and growl. “Where are these ruins, Shadow?”

He relaxes in his confusion. “Ruins?”

“Commander Knuckles!” A Resistance Mobian (squirrel) with a large orange tail rushes up with a clip board. “Miss Amy said you’d be coming. This way please!” Knuckles leaves to follow her.

Rouge rises into the air and pirouettes to face Shadow as she glides away. “I think you’re going to want to see this, hun.”

In the middle of the fields of destruction, a deep depression had been hallowed out of the earth by the Doctor’s machines. About fifteen feet down, the topsoil of the plateau gave way to carefully laid stones. At the bottom of the hole, the stones had caved in to reveal a hollow space. A portable generator churned at the lip of the depression feeding electrical lines through the hole.

“We’ve got lighting set up inside and GUN’s got equipment trying to record anything notable.” The Mobian explained as the group looked downward.

“Thank you, Bramble. I’ll take it from here.” Knuckles slid down the slope and leapt through the hole. Rouge flew forward, spinning and winking at Shadow as she dove through. Shadow leapt after her.

The hole opened into a narrow foyer that reeked of ancient dust and motor oil. Electrical lights on tripods were positioned in the corners and illuminated walls covered in stucco murals. Unfortunately, either age or the Doctor’s drilling had broken large chunks off, obfuscating their meaning.

At one end, a passage was completed blocked with soil and stone. The other end had been a solid wall recently and the Doctor’s machinations had smashed it down to reveal a chamber beyond it. Knuckles closely examined the walls. “This place was not meant to be found.” He growled.

“You can read this?” Rouge squinted at the murals, frowning.

“Not clearly, but what I can make out are warnings. Really grave ones.” He gestured at some geometric patterns that looked suspiciously like Mobian (mammalian) skulls. “The script is clearly Echidna, but it’s very, simple and clear. They were not telling a story or upholding a tradition here. This is an attempt at future proof communication.”

“What does that mean?”

“They were trying to warn a world without them of dangers known in their time.” Shadow said gravely. “Nuclear waste disposal zones use similar warnings. But I don’t feel any radiation here.”

“You’re a Geiger counter now, too?” Rouge grinned and Shadow gave her an annoyed grunt.

“’There is nothing of value here. There is danger here. The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours.’” Knuckles read. “I don’t like this.” He turned and headed for the broken open wall.

They entered a simple square room, roughly thirty feet to a side with a low ceiling that a human would need to duck in. The middle was dominated by an empty pedestal atop a three-step dais. A man in a GUN uniform knelt in a corner with a Mobian (caracal), typing on a laptop attached to a box covered in sensors balanced on a tripod. A second Mobian (another squirrel) was taking a series of detailed pictures of every surface.

On the far wall, behind the pedestal, was a large colorful mural.

“Of course,” Shadow growled. Much of the center and other smaller patches of the mural had fallen away. Between the missing patch were two depictions: a billowing darkness and a raging fire. Above them were two golden hedgehogs, one with a crumbled away face, but clearly Sonic with his upturned quills, and one with a five-pointed crown of quills, gesturing at the missing portion of the mural as if to pull it apart. The seven Chaos Emeralds surround them, and the Master Emerald gleamed prominently between them. “another ancient mural of Super Sonic.”

“He sure likes to involve himself in my people’s history.” Knuckles grumbled.

Rouge planted a fist on her hip and shifted her weight. “Who do you figure the other one is? It doesn’t look like you, Shadow.”

“I do not recognize that hedgehog.”

Knuckles examined the other walls, which were covered in symbols Shadow could not decipher. “Now this is more detailed. I’m going to need some time to translate.”

Rouge ascended the dais. “Well, whatever was here is sure gone. Whatever the ancient Echidnas were worried about, the Doctor has it now.”

“Agent Rouge,” The GUN analyst spoke up, “we’re picking up some residual energy signatures. I’ll be forwarding it back to HQ shortly.”

“Looks like we both have our homework assignments, then. Knuxie, please be a dear and drop me a line when you’ve got something.”

Knuckles frowned, “And you’ll be sending anything GUN figures out to the Resistance, right?”

Rouge placed her hand over her heart and pretended to act offended, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the loop.” She winked and blew him a kiss. Knuckles grunted and turned away.

Shadow turned to leave. His ear pricked at the sound of wings. Rouge elegantly dove past him and through the broken wall. “Leaving? I’ll accompany you.”

Back topside, Rouge asked pointedly. “So, are you going to see him again?”

Shadow habitually prickled but forced himself to relax. Before she’d opened her mouth at the helicopter, he had wanted to have this conversation. Infuriating as Rouge could be, she was far more advanced in the art of relationships than him and he’d be a fool to reject her advice. Loathed that he was to admit any fault in himself.

“I…said I would text him.”

“Have you?”

“No, I have been working.”

“That’s fine dear. It common to wait a few days to let things settle.”

“What? That is ridiculous.” Shadow reached into his quills and retrieved his phone. He brought up the texting app and tapped Sonic’s stupid grinning mug in his favorites list.

TO: [Blue Idiot]

The curser blinked expectantly in the empty text box. Shadow grimaced. His fingers rapidly typed out a paragraph and then immediately held down the backspace to erase it. Rouge was typing away at her own phone, but he caught her trying to glance at his screen.

He leveled a glare at her but was surprised at a worried expression on Rouge’s face. Her eyes were on her own phone screen and her voice was low and soft, “Hun, did you leave Sonic in a rough way?”

His expression sharpened, his ears pinned back aggressively. “That is none of your business, Rouge!” He hissed.

“I know it’s not. I’m not looking to pull anything out of you that you don’t want to give. But I’ve got a concerning text here from Amy.”

“Let me see.” Shadow reached to snatch Rouge’s phone, but with a snap of her wings she backed away. “None of this is her business either.” Shadow narrowed his eyes at her.

Rouge held out her hands defensively. “Calm down, Shadow. Take a breath.”

“I am calm.” He took a step forward, his teeth bared. A flash of fear in Rouge’s eyes gave him pause. What was he doing? He retreated, forcing himself to relax. “I apologize, Rouge. I do not know what has gotten into me. This is…these feelings are…new.” No, they aren’t. “And I do not know how I am supposed to be responding.”

Rouge’s ears softened and drooped. “I know you don’t. Look, I wouldn’t be asking this if it wasn’t important, and I’ll drop it forever after this, but I just need to confirm something.” She bit her lip, seemingly uncertain how to proceed. “When you and Sonic were done last night…you did take care of him afterwards, right?”

Shadow blinked. “What? He’s Sonic the Hedgehog. He can take care of himself.” What the hell was she talking about?

Rouge’s shoulders slumped and placed a hand over her eyes. “Oh, honey, don’t be dense. In the past, please tell me you’ve taken care of all your others, right? You haven’t left some poor soul like this without some after-” What the fuck was she talking about?

“What are you talking about? What ‘others’?”

Rouge crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a flat stare. “Gaia Below, Shadow. Other people you’ve been with.” She said, as if it was obvious that’s what she had meant.

Shadow scoffed. “There haven’t-“ He stopped, the admission freezing in throat, tightening, choking him. Rouge’s face softened and indignation flared within him. She was pitying him. Him, the Ultimate Lifeform.

“Oh, *honey…*I didn’t know. Shadow-” She reached for him.

What was he thinking, allowing this conversation to happen? He turned away from Rouge. “This is a waste of time. I have work to do.” He left, not turning when Rouge called his name.

Sonic knew Shadow, knew what he was, what he could do. Sonic could have anyone on the planet, but Sonic chose him. Sure, Sonic was a pure-bred, dyed-in-the-wool idiot, but he wasn’t helpless. He was fucking Sonic the Hedgehog. Together, they’d stopped the ARK from colliding with the planet, fended off an alien invasion, reconnected the continents and defeated a raging god of destruction. Together.

It was impossible for anyone else to understand.

This interference wasn’t welcome. It was none of Rouge or Amy’s business. They’d been texting about him and Sonic. The fucking nerve! He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone.

Shadow stopped and looked around. He had left the battlefield and found himself surrounded by fir trees. Fuck Rouge. Fuck Amy. They didn’t matter. There was only one person’s opinion he cared about right now (besides his own).

Shadow taped out a short message on his phone and pressed send.

---

Tails pulled at the white hairs at the tip of one of his tails as a sped up video played of Sonic digging through his medicine cabinet. An algorithm compared the movement of the colored labels in the video against data from the RFIDs surreptitiously glued to the bottom of each bottle and box. While that ran, Tails scratched some estimates on a pad of paper.

How much did Sonic weigh?

What had he eaten yesterday and how much?

How did the battle and then subsequent series of alcoholic shots affect his metabolism?

How did Sonic’s chaos energy generation confound all these factors?

It was a lot of work, taking care of Sonic the Hedgehog. The medicine cabinet had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. But Sonic had a very laissez-faire attitude with risk and it became more of an attractive nuisance. Taking it away wasn’t an answer either, given how the Doctor’s violence had been escalating in recent years.

“WHEN WILL YOU BEGIN UPGRADING MY DESTRUCTIVE CAPABILTIES?” The large deadly robot sharing the workshop with Tails had thus far displayed at least a little patience before demanding his attention. “THIS UNIT LONGS TO RETURN TO THE SLAUGHTER”

“Soon, I promise.” Tails said without turning away from his console. “I’ve just got to figure out what Sonic did to himself first.”

Tails’ phone buzzed with a text message. He glanced at it and then swiped the screen on.

[Rouge (motives ambiguous – do not trust!!)]: Heya there boy wonder 😉 Sendin u sum data from the scene of the crime. GUNs got it to. Maybe u can race to see who figures out what the hell the dr kyped first? love ya~<3

A data file was attached. Tails sent it directly into his malware detection program and put down his phone.

The analysis finished and Tails brushed white hairs from his glove before reaching for his keyboard. Sonic had moved and picked up bottles he didn’t end up opening, but the computer was still able to spit out a statically relevant guess of what he had in fact taken thanks to the weight sensors spread though the cabinet.

Tails read over the list and sighed. “Sonic,” He rubbed his temples, “you roofied yourself.” He sat back and pulled at his other tail.

“HAS YOUR TASK COMPLETED? I REQUIRE ADDITIONAL CAPACITY FOR HIGH CALIBER AMMUNITION”

“I already told you, I don’t make weapons, Omega. I’m going to start with your sensory array.”

“IS THIS YOUR MEANS OF DISTINCTION FROM THE DOCTOR? TO NOT MAKE WEAPONS?”

Tails spun around, fangs bared, fur standing on ends. “What do you mean by that?”

“WHEN I FINALLY DESTORY ROBOTNIK, YOU WILL REPLACE HIM. IS THAT NOT THE GOAL OF YOUR CURRENT PROJECT?”

“Current- Oh…” He turned to his side monitors. Hed been taking notes on how to extricate the Doctor from the systems that controlled Central City’s power grid. For obvious reasons, it wasn’t widely known that almost every major technical or logistical system on the planet had been coded and design in some capacity by a Robotnik.

It was bitterly ironic that Dr. Robotnik, in his bid for global domination, provided vital services. His robots built roads, constructed dams, put satellites into orbit, and laid train tracks. All ostensibly to support his mania, but also all openly available to the public when not utilized by his war machine.

Tails spent most of his time now, trying to circumvent, isolate, or disable the Doctor’s control of said systems. This lurking danger hung like the sword of Damocles above the whole world and it kept Tails up at night wondering why the Doctor hadn’t abused his influence yet.

“Yeah, I guess it is. I didn’t really think of it like that.”