Chapter Text
When Sonic’s mother passed away, his life changed drastically.
It happened on a quiet weekend night. He had returned home late after spending the evening at a party thrown by his friend, Silver. The house was dark and eerily silent when he opened the door. His heart sank as his eyes adjusted to the dim light and fell upon his mother, lifeless, on their old, worn-out couch.
That night was a blur. Sonic remembered screaming, and then the sound of hurried footsteps. A neighbor, he thought, must have come rushing over to check on him. He vaguely recalled the flashing lights of a police car and by the time the sun rose, Sonic found himself in an unfamiliar place, a foster care.
“They said it was a natural death,” the social worker told him, her tone meant to be soothing but landing flat. “A heart attack. It was quick.” She paused, searching for the right words. “We’ve contacted your father, and he’s on his way to pick you up. Everything will be alright.”
Except Sonic had never met his father.
Logically, he understood that he must have a father, after all, everyone does, but he had no memories of the man. Not a single photograph, no old letters or stories. When he was younger, curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he had asked his mother about it. She always brushed off his questions with the same vague response.
“It’s just you and me” she would say, her hand smoothing down his blue and bright quills before telling him to go to sleep and to never speak of it.
So, Sonic does not know how to react when, a week later, his own father shows up to pick him up from foster care. His emerald eyes fall on the man for the first time in his life, and it’s like the world has stopped moving for a second.
Sonic’s gaze fell on the tall hedgehog standing by the social worker’s desk. The man’s presence was strong, his upturned black quills streaked with bold red stripes giving him an air of intensity. He was dressed sharply in a dark suit, the kind that looked more fitting for business owners than at a first time family meeting.
The man spoke in low tone to the social worker, his voice steady but unreadable. Sonic couldn’t make out the words, but he saw the faintest nods from the woman as she handed over a stack of papers. The man took them without hesitation, scanning the documents briefly before he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed.
Sonic stood frozen, his body stiff and unmoving. His mind raced as he stared at the figure before him. This was his father? The man looked nothing like what Sonic had imagined, not that he had much to go on. But there was something about him, an intensity that both intrigued and terrified Sonic.
His throat tightened as the man turned slightly, catching a glimpse of Sonic from the corner of his eye.
Holy shit. That was the first thought that slammed into Sonic’s mind as he got a proper look at the man standing before him.
This was probably the most handsome hedgehog he had ever laid eyes on. Sonic knew he was attractive, his classmates and his mother’s friends never let him forget it, showering him with compliments. But his father? This was on an entirely different level. The man’s sharp features, sleek quills, and piercing gaze left Sonic stunned. Sonic swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry, as the man moved closer. Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed him approach. Now, the man stood directly in front of him, his crimson eyes locking onto his own son’s.
The silence hung heavily in the air as the two stared at each other. Sonic felt a growing awkwardness creeping over him, his attention suddenly fixated on his own appearance.
The foster care had given him a pair of plain grey shorts and an oversized white hoodie, the only outfit that seemed to fit his lanky teenage frame. He tugged his sleeve self consciously, his mind racing. What does he think of me? Does he think I’m too skinny? Too short? Too messy?
The weight of the man’s gaze was unbearable. Desperate to break the tension, Sonic parted his lips to say something, anything, even just a weak Hi, but before he could, the man spoke.
“What is your name?”
Sonic hadn’t expected such a soft yet raspy voice from the taller hedgehog. Despite its gentleness, there was no mistaking the commanding tone beneath it, the contradiction intrigued him, but his curiosity quickly gave way to confusion.
Did he not know his name? Sonic tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowed. Didn’t he just sign a bunch of papers? His name must be on them, right? The question making him wonder if this was some kind of test, or maybe his father simply wanted to hear it directly from him.
The urge to say something sarcastic bubbled up, but Sonic bit his tongue, forcing himself to hold back. Not now, he told himself firmly. This wasn’t the moment to mess up. If his father was the kind of person who valued first impressions, then Sonic couldn’t risk ruining it.
Clearing his throat, he forced the words out. “It’s Sonic... um, sir.”
The last word made him cringe. Sir? Was that the right thing to call him? But what else was he supposed to say? Father was too soon, too heavy for this fragile moment.
Whatever test Sonic thought he was taking; he figured he must have passed. His father let out a low, satisfied hum and extended a hand toward him.
Sonic’s gaze dropped to the outstretched hand, studying it for a moment. A handshake? he wondered. But the palm was facing upward, not the typical position for a handshake? His determination to maintain a good impression won out at the end.
He placed his hand onto his father’s and gave it a firm shake, trying to mimic confidence. The contrast between their hands caught his own eyes, his bare and smaller hand against his father’s gloved, much larger one.
The older man’s ruby eyes narrowed slightly, a single eyebrow arching as if to question Sonic’s action. Then, with a voice that carried no judgment but firm clarity, he said, “Your bag.”
Oh
Sonic blinked, thrown off by the request. He glanced around, realizing the bag he had been carrying all evening was still slung over his shoulder. It felt like a simple thing, but now it suddenly seemed like an object of attention, almost too personal. He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing the strap before pulling it off his shoulder. The bag itself was nothing special, just a plain green bag he had for years.
With a quick glance at his father, Sonic held it out, the bag feeling heavier in his hands than it actually was. “Here,” he mumbled.
His father didn’t say anything at first, he just took the bag from Sonic’s hands. Sonic couldn’t quite read his expression. “Good,” his father said after a beat, his voice still soft but with an edge of approval. “We will get you something better.”
Sonic couldn’t help but feel the weight of that statement. The words made his heart skip a beat. Better?
His father held the bag in one hand with an ease that made it seem almost weightless, while his other hand slipped into the inner pocket of his suit as he pulled out a car key, but something about its shape made it feel different.
Sonic followed silently, his feet dragging just slightly behind as they made their way out of the foster care building. He stole a final glance over his shoulder, offering a small wave to the social worker who was still standing at the reception desk. She gave him a short nod in return, it did little to ease the growing lump in his throat.
The walk to the parking lot was brief, but each step felt heavier than the last. It wasn’t just the weight of his father’s presence, or the questions swirling in his mind, it was also the strange feeling of leaving behind the only life he had known.
This is it, he thought. The moment he finally met his father.
His heart pounded with a growing sense of urgency, and for a split second, he almost asked all the questions that had been surrendering at him for years, where were you? Who are you? Did you even know about me? What’s your name?
Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out.
“Where were you? Who are you? Did you know about me? What’s your name?”
The questions hung in the air, unfiltered and vulnerable, before Sonic could even realize he had voiced them aloud. His father’s stride didn’t falter when he answered.
“No, I did not know about you,” his words felt blunt, honest “And it is Shadow.”
Sonic’s heart skipped a beat, an action that constantly keeps happening lately, as his father’s words sank in. The bluntness of his response caught him off guard, but it also stirred something deep within him, a strange mix of relief and disappointment. So he didn’t know about me. That hurt more than Sonic had expected.
But then again, why would he? He barely even knew the man standing next to him.
Sonic was still processing his father’s name when they reached the parking lot, and his eyes were drawn to what stood before him. A motorbike. Not just any motorbike, but a red and black machine that seemed to hum with power.
Sonic stopped in his tracks, staring at it with wide eyes. He had expected a car, maybe a big one, something a guy like his father might drive. But a motorbike? That was a whole new level. His thoughts scrambled, his gaze darting between the bike and Shadow, who seemed completely at ease with it, as though this was nothing unusual.
Sonic couldn’t help the small, surprised laugh that escaped his lips. "A motorbike?" he muttered, almost to himself. "Really?"
Shadow glanced over his shoulder, and for the first time, Sonic saw the faintest hint of something, amusement? "You don't like it?"
Sonic shook his head, still processing the unexpectedness of it all. "No, it’s not that... it’s just... I didn't expect this."
Shadow didn’t respond right away, just mounted the bike with ease, throwing one leg over it and securing the bag on the side. The way he moved made it look effortless, natural even, as though riding a bike like that was second nature to him.
Sonic blinked, then shook his head. "Guess I’m in for a ride, huh?"
"Only if you’re ready," Shadow said, passing his son the single black and golden helmet "Hold on me."
Sonic hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. Hold on to him? The thought made his face heat up, but he quickly shoved the embarrassing idea to the back of his mind. It’s just a ride, he tried to convince himself. Nothing weird about it.
Still, as he slowly climbed onto the motorbike behind Shadow, his palms felt clammy, and his heart skipped a beat. The seat was surprisingly warm, and the proximity to his father was making his nerves flare up in a way he didn’t expect. Shadow didn’t look back, but Sonic could feel the man’s presence all around him, his every movement. He could barely process it before the engine roared to life, and Sonic’s entire body jolted slightly from the vibration.
“Hold on me Sonic”
Sonic blinked, staring at the suit cladded back in front of him. He had to. He knew he had to. His fingers tightened around Shadow’s waist without thinking. The contact made his face burn instantly, a rush of warmth flooding his cheeks. Oh, Sonic thought, his mind spinning in an entirely new direction.
It was an odd sensation, the firm muscles beneath the suit jacket, the warmth radiating from Shadow’s body, the feeling of holding on tight like that. Sonic couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt, even if it was making his heart race. The wind whipped past them as the motorbike shot forward, and Sonic clung to Shadow’s back for dear life, his chest pressed against his father’s, the rhythmic sound of the engine blending with his erratic heartbeat.
Sonic closed his eyes, trying to focus on the road ahead, but all he could think about was how close they were, how his fingers fit perfectly around his father's waist, and how he never imagined this would be how he’d spend his first real moments with his father. This is weird. This is really weird, he told himself, but his body was already settling into the motion, the ride carrying them further away and deeper into the unknown.
Shadow didn’t seem bothered by the closeness, but Sonic wasn’t sure what to make of it. He’d never been this close to his mother even, and the weird flutter in his chest didn’t help matters. He quickly focused on the scenery flying past them, trying to distract himself.
They were getting closer to Shadow’s apartment, and Sonic had to admit, his excitement overcame his nervousness. The ride on the motorbike had been thrilling, and while he was still wrapping his head around the fact that he was riding with his father, a spark of curiosity bubbled up inside him.
When the bike pulled into the covered parking lot of a towering glassy building, Sonic’s eyes widened. He hopped off the motorbike, stretching his legs as Shadow dismounted effortlessly, holding Sonic’s bag in one hand.
“This way,” Shadow said as he led Sonic to the elevator.
The ride up was smooth and fast, the soft hum of the elevator filling the silence between them. Sonic was too busy imagining what kind of place his father lived in. Was it cozy? Modern? Did it have photos of their family he’d never seen?
When the doors slid open, Sonic practically bounced out into the hallway, trying to keep his enthusiasm in check. Shadow unlocked the door at the end of the corridor and gestured for him to enter.
Sonic stepped inside and immediately froze.
The apartment was... cold.
Not only literally cold, but also emotionally cold. The walls were wooden brown, with sharp black furniture that looked more functional than inviting. There were no personal touches, no photos, not even a flower vase. The shelves were bare except for a handful of books neatly arranged in perfect order.
Sonic wandered further in, his fingers brushing against the edge of the couch as he glanced around. “It’s, uh, nice,” he offered, though he couldn’t help shivering slightly. It really wascold.
Shadow’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way Sonic hugged his arms to himself, trying to shake off the chill. He frowned, walking over to a closet and pulling out a thick, but soft blanket. Without a word, he draped it over Sonic’s shoulders.
Sonic blinked, looking up at him in surprise. “Thanks!” he said, his smile becoming more genuine. The blanket was exactly what he needed, and he couldn’t help but snuggle into it slightly.
Shadow nodded, his expression softening just a fraction, “I’ll adjust the heater.”
Sonic watched as his father moved to a control panel on the wall and for the first time, Sonic noticed the small details, the way Shadow seemed so at ease in this empty environment, and yet the subtle furrow of his brow suggested he was aware of its flaws.
“Do you… like living here?” Sonic asked suddenly, unable to stop himself.
Shadow paused, his back to Sonic. “It’s quiet,” he said after a moment, his tone neutral.
Sonic frowned slightly, wondering what quiet meant for someone like Shadow. But he didn’t press further. Instead, he settled onto the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around himself, and when Sonic had just begun to relax into the couch, his stomach let out a loud growl.
He blinked, but the sound didn’t really bother him. If anything, it reminded him how long it had been since he’d eaten and foster care meals weren’t exactly gourmet. Before Sonic could say anything, Shadow turned toward him, “You’re hungry.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, a little,” Sonic admitted, resting his arms on the back of the couch. “Guess I kinda forgot to eat earlier.”
Shadow’s frown deepened, and for a moment, he looked apologetic. “I should’ve asked. That’s on me.” He turned toward the kitchen “I’ll check what I have."
Sonic watched as his father opened a few cabinets, only for the older hedgehog to sigh quietly. “As I thought, nothing but coffee beans.” He held up a small bag as evidence, setting it back down with a shake of his head.
Sonic chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I mean, I do love coffee, but I don’t think it’s gonna cut it for dinner.”
His father gave him a look that Sonic was sure it was amusement this time. “Obviously. I’ll order us something. You can pick.”
That caught Sonic off guard. “Wait, really? I get to choose?”
“Tell me what you want Sonic, and I’ll handle it.”
Sonic grinned, the casual confidence of his father’s response making him feel oddly comfortable. “Okay, but just so you know, I’m not about to pick something boring like a salad or whatever.”
“Good,” Shadow said, “Because I would not eat that either.”
Sonic laughed, already running through his mental list of favorite foods.
Shadow shrugged off his suit jacket as he walked over to the sofa, draping it neatly over the back of a chair. Left in a crisp white shirt that fit snugly across his shoulders and dark slacks, he somehow managed to look even more intimidatingly sharp, and Sonic a rush of warmth when Shadow sat down beside him.
Shadow pulled out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before holding it out to Sonic. “Here. Order what you want.”
Sonic blinked, staring at the expensive looking phone. “Uh, seriously?”
Shadow gave him a sidelong glance. “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he replied simply.
“Oh. Right,” Sonic said, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. The screen was already open to a food delivery app, the options endless. “Anything?” Sonic asked, scrolling through the menu with wide eyes.
“Anything,” Shadow confirmed, leaning back against the couch with one arm resting along the back, his gaze on his own son.
Sonic hummed thoughtfully, tapping at the screen as he scrolled. “Okay, but don’t blame me if I pick something super unhealthy, like chili dogs or something.”
Shadow’s lips twitched, “I have survived worse.”
Sonic couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As he continued browsing, he found himself stealing quick glances at Shadow. There was something surreal about sitting here, his father right next to him, acting like this was the most normal thing in the world.
For the first time in a long time, Sonic felt… safe.
Even he wanted nothing more than to jump in his dad’s lap.