you can have both my lungs if you ask me so

I. A Final Secret

It was no surprise, really, that ARK still held secrets. Those who had raided and subsequently abandoned it were soldiers, not scientists, and while Eggman was a scientist his interest in his grandfather's abode hadn't extended beyond his plans and whims of the moment.

"We've been assessing it," Commander Tower had said. "After the… previous incidents, I've been having ARK monitored in hopes that anything else stemming from it might be contained before it erupts into another full-blown catastrophe."

Shadow agreed. He regretted the Eclipse Cannon incident, couldn't bring himself to regret the Black Doom thread in the Time Eater's bizarre tapestry, and regarded what might yet be left on his birthplace with a mix of trepidition and curiosity.

When Tower approached him with the signal isolated from the station, he'd accepted the request almost before it could be articulated.

"So, what do you think we'll find?" Rouge asked. He'd asked her along - both for her skill at getting where she shouldn't be and, loathe as he was to admit it, her unflinching moral support - and she was now fluttering behind him, ahead of him, and above him as they moved toward the signal. "Another big lizard? Some kind of alien alert system? Someone left the radio on?"

"Judging by previous incidents, an alien alert seems unlikely. Or at the very least, unlikely to be only noticed now."

"Hm." Rouge hovered directly above him, wings beating a lazy rhythm. "You're no fun. But you're probably right."

"I only care about one of those things."

Rouge chuckled, flitting briefly ahead to a t-section of the corridor.

"Signal's dead ahead, tough guy. Which path will actually get us there? Or are you planning to make like Omega and go straight through the wall?"

"Depends. How do you think you'll fare in the vacuum of space?"

Rouge laughed again.

"Hmm. How far does ARK's artificial atmosphere actually extend?"

"I don't know," Shadow admitted. "But I think you might fare better inside all the same. We need to go left."

Moving away from living areas, to his relief. He was in no mood to see what was left there aside from faded echoes.

The path led deeper, into areas of the ARK even Shadow had never traversed; Rouge was quiet as they moved into dark, disused passages, offering only the occasional question that Shadow only occasionally had the answer to.

Even her questions had faded by the time they wound their way through the corridors to the final locked door. They stood before it a long moment, confirming: the signal was just beyond. Shadow looked at Rouge, and with a nod she went to the lock.

"Huh - that's funny."

"What's funny?" Shadow asked, stepping closer to her.

"Funny weird, I mean," she clarified. "This one's genetically coded."

She looked at Shadow, ears twitching thoughtfully.

"Coded to Gerald Robotnik."

Shadow frowned, staring at the lock.

"Can you get in anyway?"

"Shadow, please," Rouge said, spreading her arms and wings grandly. "Who do you think you brought along on this little jaunt?"

He almost smiled, looking back at the door.

"My apologies. At your leisure, then."

With a bit of muttering and a few minutes of work, Rouge was as good as her word - the door slid open with a squealing protest of unmaintained servos. Shadow stepped in before his partner, just in case there was 'another big lizard', and paused as he saw the shape nestled deep in the room.

Behind him, Rouge gave a choked gasp; Shadow's ears ticked toward her, the rest of his body frozen down to his lungs.

Before them stood a capsule, bathed in dim electronic light from consoles stuttering back to life in response to their presence. Within the capsule, interior lighting illuminated its occupant in a hazed halo.

A dream.

A nightmare.

A human girl, drifting in deep artificial sleep, long blonde hair floating around her in mermaid waves.

After a breathless eternity, Shadow inhaled slowly, shakily, limbs trembling as he stepped closer. He could hear Rouge talking behind him, but it came to him as wordless noise. Calling his name?

It didn't matter. Every iota of his attention was pulled to the girl's placid face as he laid an unsteady hand on the capsule.

Maria.

II. Project Andromeda

The girl was not Maria.

(Of course not. Of course not. After all: even if she deserved such a miracle he surely didn’t.)

“Project Andromeda according to the records you and the bat pulled. By records, she’s a clone,” a doctor stated bluntly. A large, bovine Mobian, Dr. Andrastes Friday claimed to be an auroch; Shadow had decided against pointing out that aurochs were extinct. 

“A clone?” Shadow repeated. His own voice sounded distant, echoing down a long tunnel. Why a clone?

The auroch shrugged, eyes on the observation window.

“Seems healthy, mostly. Missing a kidney. Scars matching bone marrow and plasma donation.” He scoffed, arms folded. “Donation might not be the right word.”

“He was—the professor—“

Shadow stared at Friday, shuddering with disbelief.

“He made a clone for… for spare parts?”

“Looks like it.” Friday glanced down at Shadow, a scowl pinching his broad face. “Figure that out yourself, champ?”

Shadow bit back a sharp reply, looking away; the doctor’s ill-concealed anger wasn’t at him.

A living toolbox. He shifted, trying to wrap his mind around it. After all, it wasn't as if he was a stranger to the atrocities Gerald had been willing to enact in Maria's name.

After all, it wasn't so long ago that he was no different.

He looked at the girl again, keeping his voice terse and controlled as he folded his arms.

“What happens to her now?”

“Don’t know.” Friday shrugged. “She’s about twelve? Unusual but hardly unheard of for a Mobian to be on her own at that age. Human, though? Soft and coddled. This human in particular!" He snorted, shaking his head. "Sapient - you can give this professor of yours the benefit of the doubt if you want and assume he didn’t mean her to be - but sheltered isn’t the half of it. Foster system, maybe, after she’s held at GUN for a while. Or maybe they'll keep her. Humans and human organizations think everything they touch is their property, the girl might well be included. Hell - they might even think she’s another one of you.”

“I see.” Shadow frowned, watching the girl again. She was talking to an aide sitting by her bed, confused but clearly coherent. A bit livelier the more she spoke, hands weaving through the air now and again.

Alien gestures in a too-familiar figure. He shivered and looked away again.

“And what does that mean for me?”

“Who knows?” Friday shrugged. “Seems to me figuring that out’s your problem.”

Shadow hummed under his breath, glancing at the observation window.

The girl looked up, meeting his eyes.

His heart clenched. He took an involuntary step back, the floor tilting beneath him, and only came back to himself when a heavy hand clamped onto his shoulder.

“Steady. I’m not hauling you to a bed.”

Shadow shook him off, nodding once, and fled down the hall without another word.

III. Sacrificial Princess

“Shadow!”

He turned toward the voice, impassively watching Amy jog up to him.

“Rose. I was unaware you were in town.”

“I wasn’t until an hour ago,” Amy said, reaching up to rearrange her neatly coiffed quills. “Rouge called me,” she added, and Shadow blinked at her in surprise before nodding.

Of course. Rouge knew him better than anyone save Maria. Despite her quirks, the bat was a soothing presence - but in a different way from Amy.

Of all his acquaintances, only Amy could have talked him down when the Eclipse Cannon was preparing to fire. Shadow found himself wondering what Rouge thought he needed to be talked down from now.

Still, he couldn’t deny there was some buried part of him pleased to see her. He jerked his head, inviting her to walk with him, and she fell into step as he continued along the sidewalk.

“I wanted to thank you again for the concert,” Amy said. Shadow looked at her again, a bit off-balance; it was hardly what he expected her to lead with.

“I’m… glad you had a good time, Rose.”

“Did you?” Amy asked. “Have a good time, I mean?” She was looking up at him now, hopeful; Shadow looked away, but nodded once.

“I did. The music was… interesting. Nothing like what I listened to before. On the ARK,” he added.

Amy nodded, not taking up the invitation.

“I imagine it was! But the music from that era was good too.”

She was testing the waters, he realized. Not bringing it up until she was sure he was open to it.

She was always perceptive, aside from her occasional bouts of mistaken identity. Still, Shadow could almost feel the curiosity radiating from her.

He wanted to talk about it, he realized.

“I was up there again,” he told her. “Along with Rouge. Chasing a signal.” Amy nodded again, waiting for him to continue, and he sighed. “We found… a girl.”

There was silence between them for a few steps.

“Rouge didn’t tell me much,” Amy said. “Just that you two were fresh off a mission. So someone was still living up there?”

“Yes and no. She was in suspended animation.” Shadow hesitated, silence stretching between them, and sighed again. “She was… like me. Created by the professor. Created to save Maria… and for nothing else. Sealed until they needed something and then put away again.”

“I see,” Amy said softly. She half-reached for his hand, but stopped herself short. “So you… freed her?”

“Yes. But I don’t know what’s next.”

He looked away, spines fluffing out as he thought of the girl adrift in her pod. 

“All I really know about her is that she’s apparently called Project Andromeda. Like the galaxy.”

“Like the princess,” Amy said at the same time. Shadow looked at her, ears tipping forward just slightly; Amy smiled, easily reading his curiosity, and continued.

“Andromeda-the-galaxy is named after Andromeda-the-princess,” she explained. “It’s an old story. Andromeda’s mother offended the gods, and they sent a sea monster to terrorize the people. They went to a fortune teller, and the fortune teller - the oracle - told them the monster would only leave if they chained Andromeda to a rock to be sacrificed.”

“Imprisoned and sacrificed as a result of her progenitor’s crimes,” Shadow said quietly. 

“Yes.” Amy nodded, lacing her fingers loosely. “But… she was rescued by a hero that came by and slew the monster - freeing Andromeda, and the kingdom.”

“I see.” 

Shadow reached up to smooth his still-bristling quills, scowling.

“I’m not a hero.”

“Well - I wouldn’t go that far,” Amy said casually. “But I guess there’s no point in arguing.”

“Wise.” Shadow snorted, shaking his head. “Chained, sacrificed, abandoned, recovered. It’s not the same. But I suppose it’s parallel. I’m not a hero,” he repeated. And then, voice softer: “I don’t know what to do.”

“Who said you had to decide right now?”

“What?”

He looked at her again. Amy just looked mildly up at him.

“I mean… Andromeda is safe and not going anywhere, right?” Amy waited for Shadow’s affirmative before continuing. “So there’s no rush. Actually… it might be better if you don’t rush. Let yourself settle back down from the shock. Then you’ll be able to think about it with a level head.”

“I suppose… you’re right, Rose,” Shadow said slowly. Amy laughed, nodding.

“Of course I am! Now - come on and think about something else. There’s a coffee shop I want to try - I’ll buy you some beans!”

She did take hold of him this time, fingers curled loosely around his wrist above the glove, and Shadow almost smiled as he let her drag him along.

IV. A Second Meeting

He returned to Andromeda a week after leaving her in the infirmary.

“They wanted to keep her there for further testing,” Commander Tower said as he led Shadow through the halls. “What that testing might entail I don’t know. I overrode them to bring her to living quarters once the physician released her.”

Shadow twitched an ear toward the human, noting the slightly grating timbre of his voice behind the offhanded tone. Tower was as unsettled as he was; no surprise there.

“Wise decision,” he said after a moment. Tower made a small sound of affirmation, and silence fell over them until they stopped at an unlabeled gray door.

Shadow fidgeted with his gloves, hesitant; after a moment Tower reached up to knock.

“I’m here!” 

He winced at the singsong voice from inside. Maria’s, but subtly different in a way he couldn’t define. A moment later the door opened, and Shadow stepped back slightly as a too-familiar face peeked out.

“Hi Commander,” Andromeda said, offering a tired little smile. “I’m settling in all right, I–”

Her eyes locked on Shadow and she brightened, smile widening as she straightened up.

“Oh! You came back!”

Shadow took another step back, staring up at her and her smile that was a balm and a dagger both.

“I… yes.”

She sobered a little, fidgeting with the hem of her pale blue sweater as she took in his hesitance.

“I’m… glad to see you. Shadow, right?” 

“Yes.”

Her fidgeting increased briefly before she laced her fingers together, looking away.

“Do you… um… want to come in?”

Did he? Shadow shifted slightly on his feet, quills fluffing, and then nodded.

“Yes. I’d like that.”

Andromeda relaxed, smiling again, and stepped back to give him room.

“Good! I was hoping–oh, Commander Tower, you can come in too….”

“You’re welcome to call me Abe,” Tower said. “I only came to show Shadow the way. I’ll see you later.”

He nodded politely and then strode off down the hall; Shadow and Andromeda both watched until he turned a corner, and then Shadow stepped into the small apartment.

It was sparse, for the most part. Sunlight, only slightly shadowed by the city’s skyscrapers at this hour, filtered through light blue curtains to spill over a vase of daisy-like flowers Shadow didn’t recognize. A single two-seater couch - white with blue accent pillows - sat before a glass table with an active tablet atop it.

Shadow glanced at the tablet in passing, blinking when he saw it was open to a news photo of him, Rouge, and Omega.

Andromeda sat on the couch, patting the spot beside her; after another moment of hesitation he sat gingerly, and she folded her hands in her lap as she too glanced at the tablet.

“I was hoping you’d come back,” she admitted. “I’d been reading what I can about you, and… Rouge was there too, right? But E-123 wasn’t… was he?”

“Omega,” Shadow corrected absently. “He wasn’t.”

He frowned, trying to decide what bothered him about the girl’s questions, and straightened slightly as he hit on it.

“But Rouge wasn’t at the infirmary.”

“No,” Andromeda said. “Just you. But Rouge was there before - you both held onto me, but then just you.” 

She studied Shadow, uncertainty creeping into her face.

“At least… I think….?”

Shadow stared at her, as numb and still as he’d been when he first saw her. She was correct: Rouge had helped remove Andromeda from the capsule, and then Shadow had insisted on carrying her to transport himself.

“You… remember that?”

“Mhm!” Andromeda nodded, looking relieved. “I thought I did, anyway. I think she was talking a lot. But then it’s hazy. Until the infirmary.”

“I see,” Shadow said slowly. “Do you… remember anything else? From before we were there?"

“Not really,” she said. “I mean… sometimes there was bright light. People talking, But it’s just… flashes, you know?”

She shrugged.

“Sometimes… I did dream. I think. But… there’s not anything else. No solid memories - not before you.”

“And the rest of the time sealed away,” Shadow murmured. Sealed away to dream, never confronting the harsh reality that awaited beyond those dreams.

Sometimes he wondered if it wasn’t better to dream forever.

“I don’t think so.”

Shadow jumped at the girl’s statement; had he voiced the thought without realizing?

“Dreaming forever… I guess it could sound nice,” she continued, and Shadow blushed under his fur.

Speaking aloud without intending or realizing - that wasn’t like him. He looked away, but one ear stayed trained on Andromeda as she spoke.

“But… maybe it would be better to move past those dreams,” she said. “I mean… I… I’ve experienced almost nothing at all. Doctor Friday said it was a miracle I’m even aware in any meaningful way.”

Shadow looked at her again, and she pulled a sour face, mimicking the auroch’s gruff tone.

“‘A miracle… or highly suspect’ is how he actually put it.”

Shadow almost smiled at the imitation before the meaning of the doctor’s quoted words hit him.

Did Friday suspect she was meant to be sapient? Was he right?

He pushed the question down, neither ready nor willing to face it. In the end it didn’t matter.

“Either way. You are aware,” he said to Andromeda.

“Yes.” She was smiling again. “And that means… since I’m not dreaming anymore… I can experience things that are real. That’s worth it. Right?”

Shadow considered. Dreaming, never having to face what had happened on the ARK decades ago, had its appeal. But… so did Rouge’s teasing and chiding and support, Amy’s unwavering brightness, even that insufferable Sonic and that loud - but interesting - concert Shadow had taken Amy to for her birthday.

Was it enough to balance?

“Right,” he found himself saying.

It was worth it.

V. A Corrupted Ghost

“So.” 

Rouge set her spoon aside and braced her elbows on the cafe table, chin atop laced fingers.

“How’d it go?”

Shadow looked up from the cream-topped dark chocolate concoction Amy had talked him into trying, regarding the bat and the hedgehog with a vague sense of trepidation.

“Am I meant to know what you’re asking about?”

“Your visit,” Amy clarified. She was deep in her own whipped cream monstrosity of a beverage, some of said cream perched at the tip of her nose; Shadow tore his attention from it to focus on her properly, and she blinked at him as she took another sip. “Commander Tower told Rouge, and Rouge told me.”

“I see. A chain of incurable gossips.”

Amy had the sense to look embarrassed. Rouge cackled, leaning back in her chair with a flourish of wings.

“Oh Shadow - you know I can’t resist poking my nose in.”

She straightened, sobering a bit.

“But we do want to know how it went for more than gossip. You know that, don’t you?”

Shadow did, and gave a tense nod after a moment. Amy and Rouge both watched him expectantly, and after another moment he sighed.

“It was… eerie. A ghost. But then… not a ghost.”

They both stayed silent, much as Shadow could tell they both wanted to speak up. He sighed, finally tasting the drink.

It was good: the dark chocolate mingled with the bitter espresso in a way that made both feel more nuanced. He set the mug down, staring into it again.

“Some things too familiar. Some things just barely similar. Some things… words, gestures… different. It was….”

He looked up at the girls again.

“Have you ever seen a corrupted video file? You know what should be, but something in the… glitching, the wavering… changes it. Warps it. The echoes are there but it’s off in both subtle and drastic ways. It was like that. Like a corrupted video. A corrupted ghost.”

Amy and Rouge exchanged a look. Rouge spoke first, gaze uncommonly soft.

“Is… ‘corrupted’... really the word you want here, hon?”

Shadow scowled, tapping a fingertip on his mug.

“That’s not how I mean it. It’s only… I… ugh.”

He gulped down the rest of the coffee to avoid their eyes; in his peripheral vision he could see them exchange another look, and this time Amy spoke up.

“Let’s not worry about naming it yet,” she said as she stirred her own drink. The whipped cream was still on her nose, evidently out of easy line of sight and softening the seriousness of her tone and posture. “What do you want to focus on? The difference, or the sameness?”

“I… don’t know,” Shadow admitted, gaze dropping to his empty mug. 

“New,” Rouge said. “New experience - it’ll be good for you.”

“That’s a good point,” Amy said. “And… the visit was a good idea. After all… I think Andromeda is probably pretty lonely.”

She tilted her head at Shadow.

“Like you.”

Shadow scoffed, ignoring Rouge’s wordless sound of agreement.

“I’m never lonely.” 

He stood, pushing the chair back in, and after a moment’s hesitation seized a napkin and reached out to swipe the whipped cream from Amy’s nose before walking away with her shocked squeak behind him.

Still, he couldn't help mulling over her words as he walked.

A new experience. The very thing Andromeda wanted, her answer to dreaming forever.

It had merit.

VI. A Little Tinkering

Shadow paused before knocking on Andromeda’s door, ears flicking at the sounds of conversation inside.

“Rose?” he muttered. 

Of course. She had remarked on Andromeda’s potential loneliness. How like her to try to alleviate it.

He knocked, and a moment later they were both ushering him in.

“I should have known you’d come by,” he told Amy. She smiled, shrugging.

“Well - I was thinking about it after we talked the other day, so I’ve come by a few times - Andromeda’s fun to talk to!”

“Is that so,” Shadow said. He looked over at Andromeda; she grinned at him, and he couldn’t help but give her a small smile in return. “I suppose I can see that.”

“Well, come on and sit!” Andromeda said, taking Shadow’s hand in both of his. He allowed her to tug him over to the couch, noting that the blue cushions had been replaced with red. There were a few more accents in the apartment now, in fact; there was a framed poster of the Earth seen from space and a star chart pinned above it, both things he would have expected of Maria, but also a schematics drawing of a plane similar to the Tornado pinned up near the window, a pile of Hot Honey CDs beside the potted flowers, and a few suncatcher stickers peeking through the blue curtains.

“Amy brought those,” Andromeda said as she noticed Shadow looking. “Well - Abe gave me the star chart and the poster. But Amy brought the rest when I asked her about music… and about some of the vehicles I’ve seen in articles I read.”

“The suncatchers I just thought were pretty,” Amy added. “It’s the wrong time of day right now, but you should see them when they’re all rainbowed.”

“I see,” Shadow said, thinking that Maria would have liked the suncatchers at least. “You’re interested in… vehicles?”

“Well… machines in general,” Andromeda said. “Take a look at all this!”

She gestured to the glass coffee table; Shadow looked over, brows raising at the array of machine parts scattered across it. Most he didn't recognize, though there were a few tiny circuit boards and watch gears and a few casings alongside a few mismatched tools.

“I’ve been… doing a little tinkering,” Andromeda explained with a smile. “I… well… obviously I don’t have a lot of experience with machines, but I was interested in how they work. And I probably shouldn’t dismantle my tablet, haha!”

“Probably not,” Shadow agreed. “So you… dismantled everything else?”

“Just a few things Amy brought for me,” she said. “I’ve actually been having a lot of fun taking them apart and figuring out how to put them back together!”

“I see,” Shadow said again, reaching out to carefully pick up an earbud casing. “Maria was… never interested in mechanics.”

Andromeda froze, her smile growing brittle.

“Well. Like I keep telling Abe - I’m not Maria.”

She took a breath, brows furrowing slightly.

“And I don’t want to be.”

Shadow stared at her, numb. Then - fearing he might crush it in suddenly clumsy fingers - he set the casing back on the table and stood.

“You’re not. And you shouldn’t.”

He started to say more, the words refusing to form as he struggled to meet Andromeda’s wary gaze. 

What could he say?

Shadow took a shuddering breath and then fled the apartment, ears flat against his skull in an attempt to shut out Andromeda and Amy’s voices calling after him.

He didn’t get far - he’d taken the stairs, needing the steady pounding to break through the numbness, and as he entered the lobby an elevator chimed and a pair of hands caught him just above the elbow.

“Shadow!” Amy said, tugging lightly at him. “What are–you didn’t need to leave–”

Shadow kept still, tense, not looking back at her as she loosened her grip slightly.

“Shadow, I… are you all right?”

He jerked out of her grasp, quills bristling.

“Do you think I’m ‘all right’, Rose?!”

Amy’s mouth twisted, temper flaring in green eyes. Then she composed herself with a deep inhale, hands clasping loosely in front of her.

“All right. Fair.” 

They stood in silence a moment - Shadow fuming, Amy waiting - before her patience gave out and she spoke up.

“Let’s try a different angle. We all know you know she’s not Maria. But how about this: what about what we talked about a few days ago? What upsets you more at this point? The sameness, or the difference?”

“I–”

Shadow frowned, retort dying in his throat as the question sank in.

“I don’t…know,” he said at last, taking a few deep breaths to try to relax his bunched muscles.

“Are you sure?” Amy pressed, tone soft but expression direct and searching. “It’s okay if you are… and it’s okay if you aren’t.”

“I don’t know,” Shadow repeated wearily.

But as his tension ebbed, he realized he was relieved. Whatever the professor’s intentions had been beyond creating a perfect donor - whether she was meant to be sapient, whether she was meant to mirror Maria in more ways than mere genetics - Andromeda’s mind was her own. Neither a replacement nor a pale imitation.

Her own person.

He sighed, shoulders dropping as he looked back up the stairwell.

“I should apologize.”

“It might be a good idea,” Amy agreed. “Even if that’s not how you meant it… it might be nice. And she’s worried,” she added.

“Worried?” Shadow asked, frowning as Amy nodded.

“Yeah. That you might not come back. Because she pushed back, or because she’s not Maria, or whatever.”

Shadow scoffed, shaking his head.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Let her know that, then.”

He looked up the stairwell again and nodded.

“You’re right, Rose.”

“I know,” she said simply. “But… let’s not take the stairs. Come on.”

Shadow scoffed but nodded again, allowing Amy to lead him to the elevator and back up.

VII. Savior Sibling

When Shadow returned to the apartment a few days later, he found Andromeda kneeling on the floor amidst an array of yellowed papers. She looked up as he came in, one of the sheets held carefully in both hands, and giggled as he stepped carefully through to avoid treading on any.

“They’re copies - it’s okay,” she told him, still smiling. “But thanks for taking care.”

“Mm.” Shadow nodded as he sat, glancing over the careful semicircle arrangement. “What is all th–”

He cut off as his eyes landed on a signature.

Maria.

“Abe got me in touch with a historian he’s worked with before - Professor Victoria,” Andromeda explained. “I had some… questions, so he introduced me to her and she sent some things she’d found.”

She paused, a hint of trepidation creeping into her voice.

“Is that… okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Shadow asked. He reached out to pick up one of the sheets, but found himself unable to focus on anything but that familiar signature.

“Well… it just seemed right to ask,” Andromeda said. “I… kind of wanted to learn more. Professor Victoria said she apparently sent these pretty frequently.”

“They rarely wrote back,” Shadow said. “At least not to her. Especially after her sister was born.”

“I see.” Andromeda set the paper aside to pick up another one. “Abe doesn’t tell me much… can you? About Maria?”

She peeked over the letter in her hands to meet Shadow’s eyes.

“It’s just–I wish he’d let me meet her. She sounds like someone I would have liked to know… and then… then I could have made my own decision.”

“About what?” Shadow asked. Andromeda wrinkled her nose and pulled up the sleeve of her blue sweater to show one of the donation scars - fading but still visible against her fair skin - and Shadow swallowed hard before nodding and looking away.

“I’d… like to think I would have agreed to help,” she said. “But now I can’t ever know… and I don’t really know who I am outside of her.”

Shadow stood, doing another careful dance through the papers as he went to the window to open the curtains (red now, he noticed). There were pigeons on the ledge, shuffling amongst themselves - birds Maria had loved looking at photos of, scoffed at the professor’s insistence that they were pests, had never been able to see for herself.

“Sometimes,” he said slowly, “I don’t either.”

He could hear Andromeda shuffling papers behind him, gathering them into neat stacks.

“You’re mentioned a lot in these,” she said. Shadow flicked an ear toward her but didn’t respond, and she continued after a moment.

“You know… there’s something Dr. Friday told me. I’m not unique, exactly.”

Shadow turned toward her, alarmed; Andromeda immediately realized the cause and held up her hands, shaking her head.

“I don’t mean there are more, uh, clones! Not of Maria. It’s… he told me… that there are people who… make something like me. Creating their very own donor. Selecting, um, embryos and discarding the rest. All to make the perfect baby to save the child they already have. And that’s all they want the new one for.”

Shadow stepped forward to sit beside her again, and she gave him a wan smile.

“They call it ‘savior sibling’. Dr. Friday had a less, um, polite term for it.”

He snorted, and Andromeda grinned at him before continuing.

“So… that’s what I am. Was. I was Maria’s ‘savior sibling’. But I never had a chance to decide… and now… like I said. I don’t know what else I am.”

Shadow considered that, humming a low note under his breath as he looked at the plane schematics tacked to the wall.

“Someone who likes to take apart cell phones, as I recall,” he said at last, and was warmed by Andromeda’s laughter.

“Yeah. I guess I am that!” 

She watched him a moment.

“You know… you… you’re sort of Maria’s savior sibling too. You’re more than that… but that’s also part of who you are. In a way.”

“No more than she was mine,” Shadow said, and Andromeda nodded.

“I guess I can see that. But… I was thinking. You saved me, so. Maybe… I mean, it’s not the same. But maybe… we can help each other like that? Look out for each other?”

Shadow shifted, studying her; Andromeda’s cheeks colored under his scrutiny but she didn’t look away, and after a moment Shadow nodded.

“I think I might like that.”

Andromeda made a little sound of delight, throwing her arms around him. Shadow allowed this for a moment - even found himself leaning in just a bit - and then gently disentangled himself, rising again to pace as he spoke.

“Maria… was one of the first things I saw. It was the professor who named me ‘Project: Shadow’, but it was Maria who gave the name meaning….”

VIII. Flame Bracelet

I’m in the research lab. Nothing bad! See you there if you come by.

Shadow stared at the note Andromeda had left on the coffee table, frowning as he clenched the paper. ‘Nothing bad’, it said, the neatly printed block letters another contrast compared to Maria’s flowing script; still, after Friday’s remarks about GUN potentially believing they owned her and Tower’s remarks about needing to put his foot down to get her out of the lab, he was worried.

Nothing to do but look into it. And if it was something untoward, he’d–

Well. He’d handle it one way or another. 

As he approached, Rouge’s voice reached him from one of the testing rooms. Shadow’s steps slowed, ears twitching; if something was wrong Rouge would help him without question, but whatever she was up to she sounded exhilarated.

He peered into the testing room to see Rouge surrounded in an orb of flame. As he watched, she braced herself against an attack from one of the testing drones - and then shifted, the dancing flames lashing back against her assailant.

She dropped her stance with a sharp, delighted laugh, and turned to Shadow as he stepped forward.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s Andromeda’s,” Rough said, eyes glittering. She tapped a wide gold bracelet on her left wrist. “She’s been playing around with improving elemental shield technology.”

“Shield technology?” Shadow repeated, surprised. It was a far cry from dismantling and reassembling old cell phones and communicators - but then, Andromeda’s tinkering had gotten more advanced over the past month. “Improving it how?”

“More control. More durability. The counterattack-with-shield you just saw. And,” Rouge continued, bringing her braceleted wrist up in a showy flourish, “she’s using lab-grown gems to amplify and spread it all. Something about light through a prism, but the point is this.”

Shadow tilted his head slightly, studying the large, faceted ruby embedded in the bracelet, and nodded.

“I see. That… does seem up your alley.”

“You know, some enthusiasts claim lab-grown is inferior,” Rouge noted, holding her hand up to let the facets catch light. “But while I admit there’s an allure to rarity… sparkle is sparkle. Besides, some of the lab-growns are even sparklier!”

“Is that so,” Shadow said, half-listening as he focused on movement in the observation window. Andromeda was up there, hair pulled into a long, high ponytail as she talked to a uniformed officer; Shadow half-smiled as he watched her gesticulate, fingers forming jewel-like patterns.

She turned to the window, eyes skimming on Rouge before landing on Shadow. Andromeda brightened visibly as she saw him, waving, and he waved back once as she grinned down at him. 

Something in him tightened as he watched her half-turn to explain something else to the officer, warmth blooming in his chest.

Pride.

Andromeda was really coming into her own, already making accomplishments; Shadow watched Andromeda and listened to Rouge as the bat continued chattering about the bracelet, switching the ruby for a bright topaz to change fire to lightning, and when Andromeda beamed with pride as electricity crackled from her creation Shadow couldn’t contain a small, proud smile of his own.

IX. A Question of Identity

“How did your presentation go with the staff?” Shadow asked a while later as he and Andromeda sat in GUN’s small onsite cafe. Andromeda beamed at the question, gulping her frozen drink (and then pressing her hands against her forehead at the chill).

“It was great!” she said once she’d recovered. “I mean… not everyone believes it was all my own work, but Rouge wouldn’t hear a word about that. Besides, I’ve got all my notes and everything to prove it.”

She shuffled a little in her seat.

“I gave Rouge the prototype,” she said. “I… actually meant to give it to you, but she was so happy with it….”

“That’s fine. I’ll look forward to the next one.”

“I’ll make something even better,” she promised, and Shadow smiled faintly.

“I’m sure you will. But Andromeda - just remember to blame Rouge if anyone asks about the missing prototype.”

Andromeda laughed at that, feet swinging as she took another (more cautious) sip of her drink.

“I’ll do that! But… either way, you know, I’m thinking I’m starting to figure out who I am with all this.”

She paused, drawing circles in the condensation on her glass.

“And I was thinking I might… well… I might… think about a name.”

“Oh?” Shadow tipped his ears forward, curious. “Other than….”

“Other than Andromeda, yeah.” She shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “I mean - it’s fine and all, but it’s not… all of me.”

“I see.” He nodded, stirring his own coffee. “You know. I’ve always been Shadow. Project Shadow,” he added. “The professor gave me that name.”

“He gave me mine too,” she said quietly, and he nodded again.

“Yes. But as I told you before, it was Maria who gave that name meaning. Who made me Shadow instead of just Project Shadow.”

He sipped the coffee, savoring and considering.

“I can’t think of where to begin doing that for you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll keep thinking about it. And… everything else. You know,” she added, tugging at the sleeve of her blue sweater, “Amy offered to take me out. To her own stylist - it’s probably different between hair and quills but Amy says she’s amazing with both - and shopping. You know, for clothes and stuff.”

“I see,” Shadow said again. “Are you going?” He tried to imagine Andromeda traipsing through the city with Amy, letting Rose drag her from boutique to boutique; it was surprisingly easy to conjure the image, and he was unsurprised when Andromeda nodded.

“Yeah - tomorrow. You know, I… partly want to do it because Amy makes it sound fun,” she said, words slowing a bit as she watched him. “But also, I… I want to look less like… well… I want to see what it’d mean to look like me, instead of looking exactly like Maria.”

“You don’t,” Shadow said. It slipped out without a thought, but when Andromeda looked at him with brows raised he realized she hadn’t looked like Maria to him in weeks - some of it in the healthy flush and rounded cheeks Maria had never really achieved, but also a thousand different subtleties of expression and gesture.

Similar, but hardly the same.

“Are you sure about that?” Andromeda asked skeptically. Shadow nodded slowly.

“You look like you could be her sister. Her twin, even. I suppose in a way you are. But you look like… yourself.”

Andromeda was quiet, taking that in, and Shadow felt compelled to continue.

“You’re not entirely unlike her, of course. You’re a bit like her… and Rose. Even Rouge in her own way. People who inspire hope. But just as Rose is Rose… and Rouge is Rouge… you are Andromeda. Or whoever you decide to be.”

She was silent another moment. Then a smile bloomed across her face, warming her entire being.

“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot, Shadow. Especially from you. But… I do still want to go with Amy. To find something for… me.”

“It’s a good step,” Shadow said. “To really find yourself… I can understand the impulse to seek that.”

He paused a moment, watching her.

“And… I’m looking forward to seeing what you might find.”

X. Hope

The next day Shadow waited for Amy and Andromeda at the latter’s favorite cafe, his drink sitting forgotten in front of him as he cast hooded glances up and down the sidewalk. They’d agreed to meet there after the girls’ outing; Shadow had carefully ignored Amy’s transparent glee at his invitation. 

“Shadow! There you are!”

He looked over at the voice to see Amy trotting along the crosswalk, a girl with bobbed blonde hair at her heels.

Andromeda, clad in red and black and glancing around the street with bright, curious eyes before she focused on Shadow and waved.

He waved back as they both reached the table; Amy beamed at Shadow, hands clasping. 

“You two just settle in - I’ll go order!”

She flounced into the building proper before he could respond; Shadow sighed, shaking his head, and then turned back to the girl standing by the table. 

“Hello,” he said. He cut himself off before calling her ‘Andromeda’; perhaps she’d made a decision on that and perhaps not, but he’d wait for prompting from her or Amy.

“Hi Shadow,” she said, smiling a little. Her hands moved to fidget with a sweater sleeve and found only bare skin, so she folded her hands instead as she gave him a shy, sidelong look. 

“So… what do you think?” she asked with a note of uncharacteristic trepidation.

He looked her over carefully, noting the buckled boots and the sturdy black overalls over a thick red shirt, the flipped bob her hair had been cut into. Practical, just with a few fashionable touches to her hair and accessories.

“It suits you,” he said at last, and almost smiled as she broke into a relieved grin. “They’re good choices. And… I have something for you.”

He retrieved his own shopping bag from under the table; she finally took a seat and scooted in close, bright with anticipation as she dug into the bag.

“You do? Let’s see–oh!”

She hauled her prize from the tissues the shop keeper had packed it in, beaming as she looked over the bright red tool case with black accents - and inside, a set of tools ranging from delicate precision screwdrivers to wrenches and a claw hammer, with ergonomic handles in the same red with black trim.

“They’re perfect! I needed this, I can’t always borrow from–and this is a lot more durable than the one I–and the colors!”

She beamed as she looked up at him, hugging the case to her chest.

“Thank you, Shadow!”

“I’m glad you enjoy it,” he said, nodding. “And… I thought you seemed to like red. I’m sure you’ll get use from them.”

He picked up his drink, turning it idly in his hands.

“And… have you given any more thought to a name?” 

He waited for her nod, sipping his lukewarm drink before speaking again. By her bright-eyed look and the way she fidgeted, he suspected she’d been waiting for the question;

“What did you decide, then?”

“Well - it’s like this,” she said. “You told me you didn’t know how to give more meaning to ‘Andromeda’, and that’s fair - I didn’t figure that one out either. But the thing is… you did give me a name.”

“Did I?” Shadow asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah - you did.” She nodded, running her fingers over the tool case. “You gave it to me… when you pulled me out of stasis on the ARK, when you kept coming by… and when we talked yesterday. So.”

She grinned, tucking the tool case against herself with one arm as she offered him her hand. 

“I’m glad I can finally introduce myself to you, Shadow - my name is Hope.”

Shadow watched her a moment, taking in her slightly flushed face and eager expression (hopeful, one might say).

Then he smiled, reaching out to carefully clasp her hand in his.

“It’s another good choice… and…."

He gave her hand a light squeeze.