You arrive yet again just when I'm beginning to feel lonely! It is almost as if you Sonics are in tune with my needs. I commend you all and hang off your every word.
Death. It was something Shadow had tried not to think about, but the reality was always there in the back of his mind. Him being who he was, it would be impossible for it not to fester there and remind him of the inevitable.
He'd imagined it before. It was hard not to, some days, in morbid passing, imagine the how and when and where of his friends' passing. His body would never weaken with time. He would never know the ache of old bones or the wrinkles in his muzzle. He would never see grey invade black or silver line the fluff of his chest. He would never watch the brilliant scarlet in his quills dull with age.
His eyes would change, most certainly. The years would show themselves in those crimson depths. The triumphs and failures, the dedication and promises retained with every step he took, the guilt, the sorrow, the happiness...
...The loss. Losses that would stack, one-by-one. He wasn't completely exempt from age. His aging would be internal, mental. Sooner or later, he would be a man of seventy years in the body of a twenty-something.
Immortality came with costs. He'd accepted that long ago. He'd known his bonds were temporary and it was by Sonic's philosophy that he found it in him to bear those burdens the best he could.
Live in the present. Live without regrets.
He'd been prepared to watch them grow. He'd been prepared to watch them make mistakes and learn from them, mature and love and fall apart and pick themselves up. He'd been prepared to watch them find their life-mates and raise families. He'd been prepared to see every faction of love and companionship. He'd been prepared to watch them live their lives rich and full. He'd been prepared to watch them die.
Or, so he'd used to like to think.
Sonic was old. His fur a grey-ish blue, wrinkles lining the peach of his arms and muzzle. The rounds of well-wishers and teary-eyed conversationalists had said their peace and made their way home, but he remained. He remained in the chair he'd sat in since his arrival hours ago. He'd declined food and drink, he'd ignored the chair-sores in his back and lower body. He'd ignored the urging from the others to stretch his legs and questions why he seemed to care more than his demeanor normally showed.
He didn't care about appearances. There wasn't any room for something so trivial right now.
He knew what was going to happen tonight. Maybe it was his personal relationship with the subject. Maybe the way only he could smell it in the air or feel it in his bones. Or maybe it was the look in those emerald eyes that he recognized in a pair that used to be blue.
He'd been forced to leave her side as she drew her last breath.
He'd spent his life rectifying his mistakes.
He would stay here for as long as it took.
"You're still so quiet."
Shadow's ears twitched and he blinked back into awareness. Sonic was watching him, his lips still curled in that persistent smile on his aged face. "Still always makes me wonder what's on your mind."
"...That isn't something that needs to be discussed."
"Tight-lips."
Shadow snorted and, for that moment, it felt like he was talking to that sixteen-year-old again. For a moment, it felt like everything was going to be fine. Maybe it was because of weakness that he indulged. "Have you known me to change?"
"Yeah," the smile grew just a little. "When you smile. That's a change. Always so small, like you were trying to deny it." Eyes shut. "...You shouldn't, you know."
"Why?"
"...Heh," the eyes opened again and Shadow felt himself frozen. There was that look again. That something in his eyes that only made itself visible in lingering glances. That something he felt in an accidental touch or a hand that remained on his shoulder longer than necessary. That specific, peculiar sort of warmth that always ended up buried behind a joke on the fly and a loud laugh.
That something that was mirrored, because those gazes, those touches and backwards stepping and cover-ups had been mutual. Uncertainty and hesitation had held him back and he hadn't the will to win that battle. He hadn't his normal confidence, his limitless strength and drive. He couldn't conquer this because he'd been afraid.
He'd been afraid for so many years. He'd stood back and watched. Watched and longed and yearned.
"...Because, that's when you're beautiful, Shads."
Shadow's chest tightened. Ears fell flat. Shock, realization and regret swam through him with each transition on his face.
He'd been afraid.
And now time was running out.
Sonic was laying there with that same smile, that same bittersweet sadness in his eyes, that same hand held out to him...
Shadow grasped it tighter than he'd meant to and held the back of his against his forehead. His vision was blurred and wetness dripped down the elderly hedgehog's arm as the black hedgehog's wall crumbled to dust and he found himself choking behind a lump in his throat.
The hand held back as tightly as it could muster, a thumb brushing against him. "Hey...c'mon. Don't cry. Smile." When Shadow looked up, everything reflected in those red eyes, Sonic's hand gave his a squeeze. "Can you do that for me?"
He would have found ways to move mountains if that was Sonic's last request.
As impossible as it felt, as hard as it was knowing what was coming, Shadow forced those lips upward. The strain was there but, Chaos, he'd be damned if he didn't smile now. He'd be damned if he didn't give Sonic this last chance to see it.
That peach hand managed to separate itself from his grasp to cup a cheek and brush at his tears with a thumb. "Lookin' good, Shads..."
"I love you."
It came out before he could stop it and he watched the slight surprise flicker over Sonic's face before it was replaced with the biggest, happiest and saddest smile he'd ever seen. "...I love you, too."
His hand slackened and arm shook and Shadow immediately grasped it. With a painful tearing at his chest, he saw the dimming in his eyes. The loosening of his smile, the final breath waiting to be drawn as last regrets were resolved.
Now, or never at all. Give him one last thing to take to the other side.
Shadow leaned down and caught that breath in their first, and last, kiss.
