(IM)MORTAL

12

⋆☆⋆☆⋆☆⋆
THE TWELFTH CHAPTER
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༶•┈┈୨ ROUGE WOKE TO the smell of a bakery, something sweet and sugary, vanilla, and after she stretched and adjusted to the night, she followed her nose.

She went stiff as a board and stopped immediately at the line that divided the kitchen from the hall. Not out of horror, just surprise. Relief.

Shadow was up and moving around. Humming along to a song (nothing she recognized) that played quietly on the stereo. He was wearing her frilly pink apron and standing on her pink stool, mixing something in a bowl.

"Good morning," he said without looking at her.

Rouge went to correct him, because she was well aware the moon was out and bright, but a glance at the microwave clock silenced her. It was nearing four a.m.; morning indeed.

She leant against the doorframe. "Morning, dear."

He turned and smiled at her. It surprised her too much to return it.

         Rouge had not ever seen him smile. There was that subtle upright in the left-hand corner of his mouth when he was doing a mischief. There was a silly smirk on the very absolute rarest occasion that he made a funny (which was one time ever). And then there was this. A smile smile. A smile on his face, in his eyes, from his heart.

(It set her own heart on fire.)

         And it was hers. He smiled for no one but her.

Rouge found herself smiling at the floor, beginning to sweat. She despised the blushing schoolgirl in her—who was she, Amy?—and willed it to disappear. It left with a dramatic bow.

"What're you making?"

"Food."

"Obviously." She stood behind him, peering over his shoulder. She had to step on her tiptoes to see in the bowl since he stood on the bench. "Cake?"

"No, this is frosting."

She gave Shadow a look and he gave her a giggle. That also set her heart on fire. "Yes, I made a cake. Another ten minutes until it may be removed from the oven." He paused, placing the bowl on the counter. He looked away, almost shy. "I hope it is acceptable. I have never done this before."

"As long as you follow the instructions, ev'rything will be fine," Rouge assured him. After a breath, she addressed a small elephant in the room. "How do you feel?"

Shadow stepped down from the stool to be level with her. He shoved his hands in the pockets of the apron. He seemed to debate on what to say before settling on this: "Better. Thank you."

Better was an understatement, but Rouge did not voice it. "Wonderful. You had me worried. I'm glad."

"I apologise for being a burden and causing you distress."

"Nonsense. You're not a burden. And it isn't your fault I was upset."

He gave her a look, nose wrinkled—like he was saying Yes, it was—but he added nothing on the matter. "I apologise, regardless."

"All right. Apology accepted." She paused again. "Do you know . . . ?" She trailed off on purpose, uncertain of her word choice.

         "I don't. I don't know why that happened. What it means. I cannot recall it happening before." The fingers of his left hand clasp the wrist of his right, encircling it, rubbing the

(infernal chains)

         bracelet that was not there.

"I fear I will waste away again, if I imprison myself," he whispered. "But I need them, unfortunately."

She glared now that she understood. "They hurt you."

"Yes." Reluctant. Defeated.

"Why can't you be without them?"

"Many reasons." After a pause, he relented, deciding to name one. "They help hide me. As long as the humans do not sense me, I am hidden." He added in explanation, "That is why they found and arrested Sonic instead of me."

         Rouge felt her insides freeze over. Her heart, her soul, her gut, lungs—all of it, icy. She had no idea humans had invented such a device, one to track Chaos.

(And Sonic,
who was constantly running,
was constantly leaking,
giving himself away.)

         "The humans have not been kind to you," she whispered. "Finding you in one of their labs broke my heart, but this . . . ?" A breath; in, out. "Were you raised in captivity, Shadow?" Her voice threatened to break at the thought.

"You should know—you have the file." But his words held no malice, no anger. Simple and calm. Merely stating a fact.

Her cheeks heated immediately with shame. "But I never read it," she admitted. "I never even gave it to the Commander of G.U.N. like I was supposed to. I lied." She enunciated, "I lied to them, Shadow. I told them there were no files, only viruses. Corrupted a flash drive to prove it."

Shadow's posture became rigid, one hand on the oven handle. The timer went off, announcing the cake was ready. Shadow was slow to turn it off, to open the oven door part way. He still did not look at her, still remained rigid as rock. Stiff and slow, uncertain, processing her words.

At long last, he whispered. Whispered so low, so soft, that only she would be able to hear it.

"You did that for me?"

"I did."

Their eyes met. Scarlet and blue. "Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do." A rather lame response, she knew. Part of the truth.

But her answer was acceptable. It was something Shadow wanted to hear.

When he put his arms around her, she almost burst into tears.