Silver knew his early morning training was going to be more difficult to keep up with as the days grew shorter. In the summer, five a.m. was right as the sun began to rise, and his warm up jog would be set to the beautiful views of colors streaming through the trees. Warmth would cut through the cold of night little by little until the day was fully upon him. He would grin at the light, feeling it wake him up and greet him to the day. It almost made running pleasurable.

These days, it was pitch dark, and he could barely see two feet in front of him. Great.

It was a struggle for Silver to run. He had to consciously stop himself from letting his mind take over. His ankles strained from the impact. His muscles tensed painfully. His chest felt like it was on fire. It would have been so easy for him to just hover; gliding for five miles was quick and easy, after so much practice in the future when it was the only way to go between buildings. Running the same distance was still a challenge, and what's more, only he was keeping himself accountable. Some days, it felt impossible even to get out of bed, put his shoes on, and go outside, let alone actually run.

Still, he was determined to grow stronger. He'd never be as fast as Sonic or Shadow were - that was their own special ability after all - but he could recognize a weakness inside himself, even from where he should be. Fights in the future were pretty simple; fire beasts driven purely by instinct, with predictable movements and only combat as their motivation. This time period was more challenging; the enemies quickly changed and upgraded, their directives shifting with the whims of their mad genius master, and the worst part, he seemed to be the only one unused to it. To deal with these threats, he needed more endurance, more speed, more agility… more everything. Some running, some muscle work, and fine tuning his psychokinesis would go a long way to being able to meaningfully contribute to the fight against this time's evils. To stop falling behind.

Like he was doing now. He kept his pace as even as he could, but still felt his resolve crumble as he realized he was going slower. If he tried, he could have convinced himself it was because he was running in the woods in the dark and he didn't want to stumble and fall. He ultimately knew, though, that wasn't the truth - he only slowed from the pain that comes from inexperience, and it filled him with frustration. Instead, he bit his lip, trying hard to push onward. For his efforts, he only went slower - and then tripped over a fallen branch. His face stung in the cold morning air as he fell face first in the dirt, and his eyes stung with tears of embarrassment. I have to keep moving. I have to keep-

Silver heard a snap from off the path as he brushed some of the dirt off himself and stood up. An animal? Panting heavily, he glanced off to his right and saw a large shape, falling down. He couldn't quite make it out. Should I keep going? He thought. It's probably just a deer, or another runner-

Another snap, and a small thud.

Or whoever it is could be hurt. Or lost. Wouldn't it be selfish to keep moving without at least looking into it? It would only take a minute. His body had fully stopped at this point already, literally stuck in thought. I can always come back if it was nothing. The whole point of this is to help people… right? He stepped off the path almost unthinkingly after this revelation, inching his way towards the shape in the woods. The branches tangled up around his ankles, and he had to be careful not to stumble or trip again. How did most people do this, he wondered. Walking felt so awkward, and at times like these, almost dangerous. One slip, and he could be cut up, or stabbed, or pricked by thorns. The shape twitched, like it was struggling against something. As he approached, there were more snaps, more thuds, and…whirring? Bubbling? His arms rose, his body tense. The possibility of an enemy came to the surface, but even if that was the case, he could be prepared. His breaths were practices, smoothly going in and out. This time, he'd be ready. This time, he–

He paused.

One of Eggman's robots lay on the ground. A big one too, by the looks of it. What was this one called again - an Eggforcer, or something like that? It was about the size of Omega, with large turrets on its arms and a thick chassis. From what he could make of the paint job, this seemed to be a newer model; the paint on it was fresh, hardly scratched up at all despite being caught in this thicket. It would have been a formidable opponent were it active, but right now it was powered off with only hollow dark where its power lights would normally be. Silver approached timidly; going up to a bot like this when it was deactivated was almost worse than when it was actively fighting him. In his mind, he pictured a predatory animal sleeping, knowing it could wake any moment and tear you apart. Bending close, though, he could see that wasn't the case - there was a large gash in the bot's head, splitting apart the central processor like tin foil. There was some kind of dark, thick liquid lining the inside. Mud, maybe? Or crude oil? A gust of wind blew by and it rippled. Upon closer observation, Silver noticed it was actually covering the entire body in a very thin layer.

He leaned down, puzzled. He couldn't leave it here, in case it miraculously reactivated or reinforcements came to collect it - despite the gash, it was still in much better shape than these were normally after an attack, and could probably even be reused. Should he take it to Tails to reverse engineer it? No, not the best plan - he couldn't lift it normally, and carrying it with psychokinesis would draw a lot of attention to it. If he could only find a landmark, he could probably run back and bring someone out here to look at it. That ran the risk of losing it in the meantime, but if he was fast, he could make it back on the path and be back in no –

He heard something move from beneath him. The liquid, whatever it was, started to gather in the center of the robot's body. Silver leaned in close. Was there some kind of divot in the metal, where it was pooling? No, he realized. It was remarkable; somehow, it was actually responding to some kind of outside stimulus - like it was being touched, or frightened. Prodding it with a stick, the liquid shivered, then wrapped itself around it briefly before recoiling back in on itself. Silver had never seen anything like it before. Was this thing…alive? It was fascinating and chilling at the same time.

Reminded of what he was doing, he realized he couldn't just leave it here. Whatever it was, it was alone out here, and it seemed…scared, somehow. If he carried it long enough, he could find his way back to the main town. Maybe he'd take it to Tails or one of his other smart friends who could find out what it was, and why it was stuck to a robot like this - how something seemingly without a steady form could possibly act like this. He extended a finger out to touch it, hoping it wasn't poisonous, and tried to coax it on the stick. "Come on, little guy," he found himself saying in soft tones - could this thing even hear? "Just get on the stick, and I'll take you to some nice new - HEY!"

It jumped out, clinging to his finger. An involuntary cry left Silver's lips, and he started to shake it off. It felt strange, like a tingling slime, and he realized it was crawling up his arm. The fabric of his gloves melted underneath it, and his eyes widened. "No no no, get off!" he yelled without thinking, but whatever this was, it either didn't understand language or didn't care. If anything accelerating its ascent, moving aggressively until it coated him from finger to shoulder. He tried pushing it off with his other arm, but quickly realized how stupid of a move that was; it clung to that one as well, expanding over both and sticking them together. He tried using psychokinesis, but it was stubborn, not budging in the least with all his efforts. Inside his mind was the image of a cocoon from a book Silver had read, and he remembered some page talking about how when caterpillars morphed into butterflies, there was a time they were rendered as unconscious jelly, barely keeping the genetic material it had before reforming completely. Silver started to panic - his breath sped up, nearly hyperventilating. He had to get to a hospital or animal control or something before this got out of hand. What if this was dangerous? What if it was going to kill him!

With a moment of realization, he realized he had lost sight of the path. He had followed the sound to get here, sure, but paid no attention to where he was going. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He looked around him but it was too dark, and the ground didn't show any of his own footprints. He desperately kept looking, but the substance had covered his eyes, making him lose the little light he had left. "Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot!" he muttered, and then realized his mistake as the intruder used his open mouth to force its way into his throat. The tingling heightened, overwhelming him from both the inside and the outside. It didn't make any sense to him. It didn't –

Silver fell forward as the sun broke the horizon.

At midday, Sonic was looking out of a window. A gentle breeze lightly touched the trees, their orange and red leaves swaying peacefully. His gaze was soft, his head resting on his shoulder as he watched. Some would detach and flutter aimlessly to the ground, falling back and forth in the air or spinning with the wind. It was early enough in the season where green grass still poked through those that had hit the ground, and one of the last spurts of warmth gave the air a haze that made the ground look like it flowed.

A lazy day. Nice. Quiet. Serene.

Boring.

Sonic hated being cooped up in the house like this. Breaking his leg was the most obnoxious thing that had happened to him since…well, since forever. Both Amy and Tails would look at him with an I-told-you-so face when they came to visit, since they told him not to run outside so soon after one of summer's famed thunderstorms. Of course, he went anyway - honestly, who did they think they were kidding trying to talk Sonic out of a run - and the ground had been slick with mud and puddles, mucking up his shoes and making him slide around. Even then, he would have been fine if it hadn't have been for one last clap of thunder, distracting him just long enough to slide leg first into a fallen tree. His leg had gone one way, and his body…well, it went another.

Sonic felt the weight of his borrowed book against his cast-less leg, and he shifted it back and forth. He was done reading it - in fact, he finished two days ago - but there was still something comforting about feeling the cloth binding against his leg, the weight of it pressing against his skin. He had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed reading, since he didn't usually make the time for it. Hero's work. Races. Favors for friends. Too many things happening at once for him to slow down, unless like now, he was forced to - so the hours of time it took to read anything substantial were not normally available to him. Still, the books were a bright spot in an otherwise miserable couple of weeks; when he read a book, he felt like he could go anywhere or do anything, even if the reality of the situation was completely different. Through words on paper, he could travel the world, sail to the stars, vanquish the evils of this world… but he could also do something new, like conquer the seas with pirates, or solve a mystery a hundred years ago, or fall in love. New experiences, even if only in his imagination, filled him with excitement and hope, even if they seemed far out of the realm of possibility in real life. It helped to quell the thoughts in his mind, those secret whispers of doubt he always had. The ones asking what would happen if he tried something new, if he were to pick himself up and just… go. If he were to take a chance on the unexpected.

How ridiculous.

He was distracted enough by his own thoughts that he jumped a few inches in the air when the doorbell rang. He was expecting a visitor, but not so soon; another hour or so, maybe, but not now (not like Sonic was complaining or anything; he was desperate for company). The two crutches underneath him felt like stilts as he walked, digging uncomfortably under his arms. The doctor had told him that he would get used to them in no time, but Sonic started to seriously doubt it; it had been two weeks since he had transitioned to these from his wheelchair, and he still felt off balance and uneasy. Sonic paused before opening the door, taking a moment to appreciate how fitting it was. It wasn't as though Shadow was unwelcome here - in fact, his company made him feel happy in a way he couldn't quite place - but whenever he came over, Sonic felt off kilter. He had never spent so much time around him before his injury, but again, it was something he never quite made the time for. And the more time he spent with him, the more he wondered if that had been a mistake.

Opening the door, something inside him fidgeted as he saw Shadow glancing off to the side. He was adjusting his quills, pushing the splayed ones in place with his fingers, and they rippled out behind him like the pieces of a fan. They looked soft, and though Sonic knew they could be razor sharp at the most sudden provocation, he felt his own fingers loosen from the crutches unconsciously. He may have even reached out to touch him if Shadow didn't turn to look at him sharply, shocking him out of his daze. "My bike is shot," he said as he let himself in, "so I ran over here. Am I early?"

Sonic shifted in his stance, trying to keep eye contact with him. He rocked on his crutches, ignoring the pain as they dug in to his sides. "Not too early. 'Sides, it's not like I'm doing much anyway. You want a glass of water or anything?"

"Can you carry it right now?"

Sonic laughed a small, nervous laugh. "Maybe if I'm creative. Balance it on…something. I dunno."

Shadow crossed his arms, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He didn't say anything about the odd turn of phrase, and he didn't need to. Sonic felt a rush of embarrassment enough, which puzzled him. Normally, he was really confident - cocky, even. But these days, he'd been stumbling over his words whenever Shadow came around. "I take it you've finished the last book I leant you?" the other asked him, and he nodded.

"Nearly a day ago," he said, speaking through a lump in his throat.

"That was nearly a thousand pages, and pretty dense if I remember correctly. I didn't think you would go through the Divine Comedy so quickly."

"What can I say? Reading about hell and purgatory is a lot easier than living it."

"I'm sure it can't be that bad."

"Says the guy who was able to run here."

Shadow rolled his eyes, ignoring the jab and tossing his bag on the table. As he started to dig through it, Sonic exhaled. He knew that his bitterness was showing through a little, but that was one of the great things about Shadow's visits - he didn't have to put on a brave face or pretend things were better than they were. He could actually be himself, frustrations, annoyance, and all. And Shadow, in turn, didn't scold or even act surprised. Instead, he would accept it and keep moving onward.

The visitor looked intensely into his bag, which Sonic knew was always full with anything and everything the hedgehog might need. A side effect of being in a job where he could be called away at any moment, the bag held everything from a Swiss Army knife to a full meal at any given time - although after seeing another person get scolded for looking through it, Sonic knew better than to take a peek for himself. "I brought two books for you to choose from," Shadow said, pulling them out. They were both thick, dusty, and visibly aged from undoubtedly sitting for a long time on a shelf. "The Metamorphosis, or Frankenstein?"

Sonic looked at the two for a second before breaking out in a grin, almost laughing. "Geez, Shadow!" he said sarcastically. "Who knew you were such a downer?"

"Excuse me?"

"All your books are, like, monsters and torment," he said. Shifting his weight to one of the crutches, he started to wave the other in the air like a baton. "Oh, woe! I am a miserable beast, not meant to walk this earth among mortal men! What shame theree is in being me!"

Shadow did not appear to be amused. "If you'd rather sit in this house alone–"

"No!" Sonic said, a little too loudly. Shadow's eyes widened at the outburst, and his glance shot up from the table directly into Sonic's eyes. The latter's heart quickened, and he noticed that he was gripping tightly on his crutches again. He wobbled a little and tried to make it seem like he was trying to walk towards the table, but it was not convincing at all - he fell forward, only catching himself through a few steps, including some painful ones on his bad leg. Desperate to save face, his smile came back and he let out a forced chuckle. "I'm glad you come by, and I'm glad you're letting me borrow books from you. It's just, you know, don't you have any more books like those first ones you lent me? You know, the Arabian Nights and King Arthur - do you have any other books like that?"

Shadow sighed. "Sonic, are you aware of the phrase 'beggars can't be choosers?' Those were children's stories."

"Yes, but I know there's more to what you've got going on than just the one kind of story you're giving me, you know?" Sonic let himself get serious, standing up straighter than before. "You're a complicated guy, Shadow, and I think you've got so much more to you than what you're showing me. Some bigger story."

Shadow looked at Sonic intensely, and though Sonic tried not to show it, his heart didn't slow. Shadow's eyes lingered on his for a long time, as if thinking through a puzzle or putting him through a mental measure. It unnerved Sonic, but somehow, it didn't feel unwelcome; rather, it felt like a challenge. So he stayed, keeping his eye contact, determined not to let him see him sweat.

When Shadow looked away from him, he felt the pressure slowly leave his chest like air from a balloon. "If that's the case," Shadow said, muttering quietly enough that Sonic struggled to hear, "I think I have something else in here for you." He put his arms back inside his bag, reaching around in as though what he was looking for was buried deep inside and keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the inside. Sonic waited as patiently as he could muster, shifting his weight from one side to the other. What could Shadow possibly have in there? Didn't he say he only had two books with him? After a while, Shadow stopped and pulled out a third, smaller book. He delicately handled it, looking it over once before finally handing it to him. "This book is very important," he said. "If you lose it, or don't take care of it, I will find you and I will end you. You understand?"

Sonic shrugged. "I guess."

"I mean it," he said. "You cannot treat this like any old book. It is imperative that you treat it with the upmost care and concern."

"I promise I'll take care of it, Shadow. And you know I keep my promises."

"Then take it," he said, handing the book over to him. A buzzing came from Shadow's bag, and with an annoyed sigh, he pulled out his communicator. "This is Shadow…yes sir…no, it's not a conflict of interest. I barely know him…."

Sonic started to tune him out, instead looking more at the object in his hands. This book looked newer than most of the ones he had borrowed, but not by too much - it was about the size of Shadow's hand, and its cover still had a shine to it. The most striking aspect about it, though, was that there was a jagged red spiral on the spine, but no title. He was about to open it when Shadow closed the communicator, swearing under his breath.

"What was that all about?"

Shadow looked up at him. He paused a moment before answering, "Missing person's case. Normally not GUN's business, but this guy is apparently on their radar."

"Anybody I know?"

"…that's classified."

"Even to me."

"Especially to you." He stood up, taking one last deep breath before slinging his bag back over his shoulder and placing the communicator back inside. As he looked up to see Sonic's worried expression, his expression fortified. "I'll take care of this. Your responsibility is to rest and recover. The sooner you do that, the sooner you get back to action. Right?"

Sonic pouted, tracing the doorknob with his hand before opening it. "You know, it's funny how you use that bike when you can go by foot so much faster. Why even use that hunk of metal when you've got a good pair of legs on you?"

"Do you run everywhere?"

"Yes."

"And look how well that ended for you."

Sonic laughed at that - a genuine, joy filled laugh - and for a glimpse of a second, Sonic could have sworn that he saw Shadow smile too as he turned away. Without so much as a parting greeting, Shadow took off. Sonic stayed at the door, watching him get smaller until he was only a speck in the bright blue sky. A sense of melancholy twinged inside him like the plucking of a string, but he ignored it, instead looking down at the new book. Somehow, it felt just right in his hands.

((AN: Um. So. Here's a couple of things you'll need to know before you get too far in this story.

1) This story is Gay. Capital G Gay. It may take a but to get there, but make no mistake; these two are not just being Bros. If this bothers you, you might as well stop reading.

2) This story is going to have a few squicky moments in it. Parasite/alien/disease/whatever is not pleasant business. If you want to read this anyway but want warnings for these parts, let me know so I can put them in.

3) I like when people leave comments and things, even if it's just a "I read this once." It would probably take less than a minute, but I'd feel better about putting myself out there again. Ultimately, though, that's your call.

Thank you for reading this. I promise author's notes will be shorter in the future.))