LemonBery

Rain beat down on the flimsy metal roof he’s under, glancing out at the cityscape in front of him. He slumped onto his butt, knees pulled up to his chest. The cement was cold and damp; he hoped he wasn’t going to get sick. It wasn’t below freezing and he was thankful for that, but the cold winds seemed to pass through his boots, chilling him right down to his bones. His hands, which had his yellow and teal bracelets on their wrists, felt the worst. And he shoved them down into his pockets, balled into shaking fists.

Why not find someplace inside? Said his inner thoughts, which often sounded like Blaze chastising him. It wasn’t that simple! He was in unfamiliar territory, with unfamiliar people, and he wasn’t about to force a family to house a stranger for the night, not when he could survive on his own. Spending time outside in the cold wasn’t going to kill him! It was cold, sure, but it wasn’t freezing, and since he was safely underneath a shelter, he wasn’t going to freeze his digits off.

The storm had come suddenly and completely out of left-field. Silver had wanted to spend the night with Amy and the other freedom fighters, but he wasn’t about to fly multiple miles in the rain to do so. It was one night! He would be fine! It wouldn’t be a night he would forget, and he would definitely try and prevent it from happening again. The cold still bit at him, nipping at every available piece of his tan skin – his face and his wrists mostly, and he can’t stop sniffling! He really hoped he wouldn’t catch a cold, but perhaps it was inevitable. The idea was both as exciting as it was annoying; he would’ve never caught a cold in his future, but colds in general were awful!

Or, so he had heard. He’d never had one before (and he is on the verge of breaking his streak!) but others have had colds and they seem terrible.

Silver reaches up and unclasps his ponytail, allowing his white hair to cascade down his head. The clasp that held most of his hair up sat cold in his hand, a few water droplets rolling down the gold and teal metal. It slipped into his pocket nicely, and he put his head into his knees. Putting his hair down helped ever-so slightly. His neck felt far less cold and his ears would begin to warm up.

The space he was in was rather compact, which helped with keeping the wind from hitting him at full force. He couldn’t stand up fully underneath the metal sheet without hitting it (something he was absolutely going to do when the rainstorm was over, he just knew it) but he was taller than the average human. Others could probably stand underneath it fine. With a heavy huff, he put his head into his knees, arms wrapped around them loosely.

Exhaustion weighed down on him, but he wasn’t about to lay down on the damp concrete. It would not only be extremely uncomfortable and cold, but if someone needed help, it would take him a few seconds longer to get to his feet. He knew intimately that sometimes a few seconds is all someone had.

Sleep wouldn’t come easy, but it would come. He’d be able to sleep sitting up, with his face in his knees. His breath would keep his face warm, and keeping himself in a tight ball would limit how much heat was losing. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but if it did the job and got him to sleep, Silver didn’t mind.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Silver perked up at the familiar, monotone voice.

Standing under the sheet of metal was an even more familiar face, his red and black hair teased upwards and his red eyeshadow perfect and sharp, per usual. Silver needed him to teach him how to do his own eyeliner like that. Shadow’s arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes piercing into Silver’s soul.

“I was going to try to sleep.” Silver replied sheepishly, scooting over slightly and patting the cement space next to him.

“You’re sleeping here.” 

It wasn’t a question, but Silver answered it like it was one anyway: “I plan on trying too, yeah. Wanna sit with me?”

“Hmph.” Shadow sat down next to Silver, legs positioned in what Silver had been told was a “butterfly stretch.” He hadn’t ever seen a butterfly up close, so he wasn’t sure if the name was accurate or not, but he still found it impressive. Shadow was nearly touching his groin with his heels, no sign of strain at all. Was there anything Shadow couldn’t do?

“How’d you know I was here?”

“You’re not exactly hard to spot.”

Silver touched his hair, bright white and flushed, fidgeting with it. “Yeah, I…I suppose not.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Huh?” “My question. You didn’t answer it.”

“No, I heard you. What question?”

With a heavy sigh, Shadow rubbed his forehead. Silver was worried for a moment that he would poke himself with his sharp nails.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I told you? I was trying to-”

“No.”

“...Okay.”

“What the fuck around you doing here?” Shadow said, gesturing in a circle with his hands.

“Oh! I was going to meet up with Amy and the other’s, but I got caught in the rainstorm.”

“You stopped instead of continuing your path.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on meeting up with them until tonight. I’m looking for-”

“This week's Iblis trigger. Yes, I figured.”

“I- That’s not-” Silver groaned, rolling his eyes and putting his nose against his knees.

Shadow wasn’t wrong. Silver wouldn’t deny him that. But it wasn’t like there was some new thing every week! Every time Silver stopped the world from ending, he would come back to a perfect world before watching Iblis emerge from the core of the planet, wiping out everyone and everything he’s ever known. The bastard was slightly different every time, caused by something else, but he was a constant, just like Silver was. One of these days, Silver would destroy the Iblis trigger, and it’d be the last one. He’d be able to go to a future and it’d be alive. He’d have no reason to come back!

He’d have no reason to come back.

“Hey. Silver.”

A soft smack (soft compared to strikes Shadow’s given Silver before) to the back of his head snaps him back to reality and he glances back at Shadow.

“Did you end up finding it?” “The- The trigger? No I…I haven’t yet. It’s not always easy to find, or the most obvious thing. Sometimes, it’s super obvious, like some new robot Eggman’s made that he’s not in full control of. Sometimes, it’s…someone young who is hurting. Who believes that the only way that their pain can be helped is to summon the end of times! Those ones are always the hardest. To find and to deal with. And, sometimes it’s even-”

You.

Silver cuts himself off, coughing into his hand as he glances away from Shadow.

He had seen it more times than he would like. In visions of the future, in person, in writing. It was always so vivid. Bodies sprawled out, the familiar silhouette standing, hunched over and panting. Hair messy but still teased upwards, inhibitor rings gone, discarded. Silver had seen him tear open the plates of the planet with little sweat, exposing the raw magma of the planet for all to see. Then, without fail, Silver would watch him fling himself into the core of the planet. He couldn’t stop him, although he frequently tried.

Shadow wasn’t the Iblis trigger, he knew that much. He was done with blaming his friends for it. There were many times when Silver would end up with a boot to his head from a familiar man, dressed in red and black, telling him to “go back and fix the fuck-up properly this time.” Shadow’s existence didn’t equate to Iblis’ existence, but sometimes actions taken caused Shadow to help break the world enough to allow him to escape. He hadn’t found the correlation yet, if there even was one.

“It’s even what, Silver?”

Silver glances at Shadow, meeting his eyes and- and, did Shadow know that his eyes had specks of brown in them? The color red was often used by evil (Silver always seemed to associate it with Eggman first) but when it came to Shadow, his hair, his clothing, his eyes, Silver couldn’t help but feel the warmth, the strength that came with him. There was something in Shadow’s eyes that Silver couldn’t place, something he found himself getting lost in.

“It’s evennnnn…” Silver gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to come up with something on the spot and almost failing miserably. “Me? Y-Yeah, that’s what I meant. It feels like it’s…me?”

Shadow’s eyes dilated for a moment, his pointed ear twitching slightly. 

Shadow knows he’s lying. He’s going to poke holes in his words, he’s going to make him admit what he’s seen, he’s going to-

“That’s wrong. You do your best to protect your future. If it was you, you would know.” Relief flooded through Silver as Shadow spoke. Even if he picked up the lie, which he likely did, he didn’t press it. It was appreciated. He isn’t sure how he’d go about telling Shadow that he had witnessed his death, more than once. He gives Shadow a smile. Small, but thankful.

“Thanks I…I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing sometimes.”

“I don’t think there’s a universe where you aren’t.” Shadow said bluntly. Despite his monotone voice, Silver could feel its sincerity.

Before he could respond, a gust of cold air shot through the world, a slight drizzle hitting his shoulder, and he shifted away from the edge of the roof he was under. He shivered, pressing his teeth together to stop them from chattering together. It was already cold, the last thing he needed was the wind to make it even worse. Shadow, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected by it. Silver thought that was wildly unfair.

“You’re shivering.”

“It’s cold, Shadow.”

“You’re from a magma-filled future. I don’t think you can properly determine if it’s cold or not.”

“You’re from space! You don’t get to say anything either.” Silver said, rolling his eyes and nudging Shadow with his elbow playfully. Shadow only smirked in response before another wave of cold air blasted through the city. This time, Shadow flinched a little, his eyes squeezing shut as the cold air rushed past them. Silver shook from his toes to his hair, pressing himself into Shadow without meaning to. His face stayed pressed against Shadow’s shoulder for a lot longer than he expected; wasn’t Shadow going to push him off?

It was only after the flurry died down did Shadow remove Silver from him with a simple nudge of his shoulder.

“S-Sorry,” Silver shivered, arms wrapped around his chest. Shadow wasn’t exactly appreciative of sudden touch, and he hoped he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. “It’s just… just so cold.”

“Tch.” Shadow scoffed at him, standing up, a hand placed loosely on his hip. Silver was taller than Shadow by a fair amount, Shadow’s face only barely came up to his shoulder; if he was standing in front of Shadow, he’d have to go on his tiptoes to see over. The idea of Shadow needing to go on his tiptoes to see was hysterical, and he imagined that was the reason why he insisted on being first in everything.

It was time for him to go, or he had gotten tired of Silver’s whining. Both were entirely possible, and it was also possible that Shadow would use both reasonings. He shook his head, shifting on his feet. “You’re pathetic.”

“Thanks- Ouf!”

Insults from Shadow weren’t uncommon. Himself and Sonic were the most likely targets of his degradation, with personalized insults given out to the both of them depending on the situation. Silver was frequently called pathetic (obviously) and naïve; Sonic always seemed to get harsher comments shot at him. Sometimes, Silver felt like Sonic deserved it. (Yes, Shadow! Sonic was an obnoxious fool!)

The first few times he was insulted, it stung, but now Silver understood that it was simply part of Shadow’s love language. He was cruel because he paid attention, because he deemed them important enough to take up space in his mind. Silver would rather be pathetic than nothing in Shadow’s mind.

What was uncommon, if not unheard of, was Shadow sharing anything of his own. And yet, here they were. Shadow’s jacket had been dropped on him, the red and black leather jacket still warm as he pulled it closer around his shoulders. It’s a stunning jacket, vintage too (although Shadow wouldn’t call it vintage…it just was). The main color of it is, unsurprisingly, black, the sleeves have red stripes, and there are other various red accents around the breast and hip pockets. There’s a yellow clasp at the collar, keeping the warmth from leaving at the neck. There was a fluffy hood (although he rarely saw Shadow wearing it) and the golden zipper hidden behind some more fabric. It was high quality, and Silver wasn’t sure he deserved to touch it.

Shadow crouched down as Silver slipped the sleeves onto his arms. He was lankier than Shadow, and the sleeves didn’t fit him perfectly, but they fit him well enough, only exposing a few centimeters of his wrist. Not the biggest of deals. Before Silver could ask what Shadow was doing, Shadow’s hands zipped up the jacket, and buttoned the clasp for him. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and it’s only made worse when Shadow shoves the hood over his head, his hair feeling rather uncomfortable underneath the fabric. Once Shadow let him go, standing up with his hands on his hips, Silver pulled his hair out of the hood. He looked silly, he’s absolutely sure, but having the hair on the inside of the jacket was so insanely uncomfortable.

“Thanks.”

“Hmph.” It’s a dismissive noise, but the smallest of smiles appear on Shadow’s face, and Silver reciprocates it with his own, sunny grin. Shadow looked different without his iconic jacket, nothing but a tight black turtleneck sweater underneath. It already looks warm enough, why he needed the extra warm that his leather jacket provided, Silver would never know. The jacket had slipped over his golden inhibitor rings without issue. Silver had never realized how tight they were, clamped on his wrists right below his biker gloves, allowing those to come off easy. Did it hurt to take them off? Is that why he disliked doing it…?

Questions that never had easy answers. Whatever was going through Shadow’s brain at any given time was a mystery to everyone but himself.

“I’ll be sure to get it back to you.”

“Good.” Shadow nodded, “Don’t let anything happen to it, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Silver rolled his eyes at the threat. Shadow always had some problem with him, jacket or otherwise.

“I’m serious, Silver.”

“I know! I know. I’ll take care of it.” Silver said, holding his hands up in surrender. His fingers played with the fluff on the edge of the hood. It was soft. He glanced up at Shadow and smiled at him. “Promise.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“When the storm is over, where will you be?”

“You know where to find me.”

“N-No? No I don’t?”

Without a word, Shadow smirked at him, hands in pockets, before walking from under the flimsy roof. Despite Silver’s desperate calls for him to elaborate, he kept walking. He approached the end of the building roof, wind causing the belt chains on his belt to clink, his hair swaying slightly. He stepped up onto the edge, hands relaxed in his pockets.

“Shadow?!” Silver shouted just a moment too late as the other took one more step and fell like a rock. Silver struggled to his feet, his head slamming into the metal roof (he knew that would happen, goddamnit!). He saw stars for a moment, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to run towards where Shadow was, stumbling before breaking out into a sprint. The rain hit the back of his hands, chilling the skin, but he didn’t seem to care. He struggled to a stop as he glanced over the side of the building, a wave of psychic energy going through his body as he prepared himself to catch Shadow.

And Shadow was…falling slowly. Weird, considering the height of the building, he was falling slower than the raindrops around him. It was perfectly controlled, and Silver hesitated to grab him. What is…?

Oh.

Suddenly, Silver felt like an idiot. The shoes! He could see the flicker of light from below Shadow’s feet, the jets on the soles slowing his descent. Silver stood up straighter, a large sigh of relief leaving him as he rested his hands on his hips, soon returning them to the pockets on the jacket. He watched as Shadow landed safely on the sidewalk and mounted his, rather iconic, red and black motorcycle.

Shadow glanced up at him, and although he was so far, Silver could feel red-eyes looking at him. Shadow made a gesture: a wave, flipping the bird, a salute; Silver had no idea what he did. He did his best to return whatever favor was shot at him with a wave. The engine revved, and the motorcycle sped off to who knows where. Silver spent a few more seconds than he should’ve staring at where Shadow had disappeared over the horizon. The hood hid his face from the cold, and his reddening cheeks from the rest of the world.

Shadow was so cool.

A gust of wind nearly tumbled Silver over, snapping him back to the present. He shuffled back over to his little area of safety, collapsing back down onto the cold concrete. Shadow’s jacket was keeping him warm. Warmer than he was a few minutes ago, at least. They were holding hands by proxy, with his hands shoved into the jacket’s pockets. Silver snorted at himself, putting his face into the jacket, eyes fluttering shut. One of his legs was propped up onto the other, the tip of his boot just narrowly avoiding being hit by the rain.

A cacophony of smells hit Silver all at once: gunpowder, gasoline, and…coffee? Despite the wild combination, he wasn’t put off by it. Was Shadow a coffee drinker? Maybe he was just in some place that had coffee beans. Rouge wasn’t a coffee drinker, and Omega definitely wasn’t. Who knows. Shadow always seemed to end up in the weirdest of places, so the smell of coffee wasn’t too surprising. The gunpowder and gasoline was easily explained: Shadow’s choice of weapon and his motorcycle.

With his face tucked away in the hood, sleep was supposed to come quickly. He was warm, comfortable, and had something that wasn’t concrete to lay his head against. And yet, one more thing shot him awake. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, and found multiple grains of sand in his palms. What the fuck? Sand??? Silver rolled his eyes, dusting his hands off before tucking them back into the pockets. He wasn’t about to question that right now. There were smaller grains tucked in the corner of the pockets, but he opted to ignore them, hands balled up into fists. He’d find a way to pay Shadow back for this, although he’s not sure what of his dress that Shadow would want. Maybe he could share his hair clamp with Shadow. His hair was long enough for that.

The jacket gave him the warmth he needed to fall asleep.

He hoped that he’d dream of Shadow.

Was that weird??? That might’ve been weird.

Silver couldn’t help it though, he loved the man.

Adored? Admired?

No, those words weren’t right. He was correct the first time.