Scourge shivers, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Concerned, I glance over at him out the corner of my eye, noting the blue pallor in his skin. Alarm shoots through me as his teeth start to chatter even though he's sound asleep. We're huddled as much out of the wind as possible, and he's pressed up against a dumpster; something inside of it is decaying, the chemical decomposition letting out mild amounts of heat as a by-product, but not enough to warm him up. I lean forward, gingerly reaching a hand out to his forehead; to my terror, he's unnaturally cold. Grimacing, I force myself to get up, despite the fact that every tired bone in my body is begging me to stay seated. Looking down at him, I pause for a moment, my frigid brain trying to work. The snail-like speed of my thoughts frightens me--if it's cold enough out here that I'm having a rough time concentrating, there's no way Scourge can withstand it. How am I supposed to help him? Chewing on my lip for a moment, the gears in my head turn; suddenly, an idea flashes into my mind. I pull my left hand inside my jacket, using the other to sort of tie off the end of the sleeve and keep my stored food from falling out--in this cold, my fingertips are numb and won't work properly, but I force myself to figure it out anyways. Once that's done, I unzip my jacket, removing my left arm from it, and pull my other arm out, trying off its corresponding sleeve. Stepping out of the jacket, I shudder with cold but force myself to ignore the horrible feeling. My breath catches in my throat, made ragged by my muscles' spasms as they try to keep some trace of warmth in my body. Zipping the jacket up again, I shake the snow off it gently and drape it over Scourge's sleeping form, doing my best not to wake him. He flinches, and I hold my breath, terrified of waking him, but he simply grimaces in his sleep, sharp teeth grinding together. Stepping back, I exhale in relief, then turn around. I need to find something else to cover him with, preferably a blanket.

Shrugging, I decide to just start heading down the street. I'll walk until I can find someone to help me, I decide, looking around. My feet hurt, my legs ache and my head is pounding for whatever reason, but I force myself to put one foot in front of the other, arms crossed over my chest, hands rubbing my shoulders. Fortunately, I'm out of the wind, but each time I pass a north-to-south street, cold wind blasts me; I know that the moment I step onto a main street, I'll become half-iced. Despite that knowledge, I keep moving, pausing only for a moment to get my bearings after reaching a large yet empty intersection. The intersection of 4th and 43rd... I nod to myself, committing it to memory. Turning left, I brace myself as the gale whips into me, causing me to shudder violently. Come on, I tell myself, just get to this upcoming corner, just keep going. The snow slashes my face harshly, the ferocity of the wind bringing tears to my eyes yet whipping them right off my face the second they form. Gasping in the cold, I try planting one foot in front of the other, forcing myself to concentrate on just staying in motion. I stare vacantly forward, trembling, not even seeing the road in front of me. My vision is blurry, darkness swimming at the edge of my eyesight. Once I reach the other side, I stop, looking around; to my surprise, I spot a sign hanging from the corner across the street. Squinting, trying to force my vision to focus on the sign. After a few seconds, I gasp aloud, ignoring the sting in the back of my throat from the icy air. The sign says 'CHEAP BLANKETS AND RUGS HALF PRICE' and then something underneath it in a kanji language. I dash forward across the relatively deserted street, trying desperately not to stumble. My legs are stiff and practically refuse to bend but I shove myself forward anyways. Skidding to a stop, I grab onto the door handle, but it doesn't open.

Despair shatters my heart and I slump with a groan. So close... I slam my fist into the doorframe, trying not to lose hope. I'm sure I can find something else. I definitely can. Shivering uncontrollably, I step back, lurching a bit. My legs won't work right, and even though my fur is fluffed up against the wind I can feel the wintry air leeching the warmth right out of my bones. Terrified, I think of Scourge, and his thinner fur coat--if I'm about to pass out just standing here, he can't possibly survive the cold unless I get back to him quickly. Panic sets in as I feel the clock ticking; whirling around, I begin to run back the way I came, keeping my eyes peeled, but before I can even cross the street I hear a door open behind me.

"My, my, dearie, you seem to be in a bit of a rush." An elderly woman's voice bearing a faint Oriental accent croaks from behind me, and I whip around. She stands at around my height, hunched over with age, wearing over-large glasses that magnify her wrinkles. "Hmm, I think I know you," she says suddenly, and my panic worsens as I realize my stripes aren't covered anymore. Her expression melts into a glare. "You're Shadow the Hedgehog!" She barks, stepping back. I can feel fear and anger bleeding off her.

"D-D-Do you o-own this st-store?" I choke out, shuddering.

"Yeah, I do, sonny," she puts up a tough front, trying to scare me off, "what's it to you?"

I freeze, thinking. I don't want to have to do this, but it may be the only way for me to get a blanket for Scourge, so I swallow my pride. "P-please," I stammer, "I n-n-need a b-blanket, my f-friend, he's gonna d-d-die without it--"

She snorts. "Yeah, right! You're just lying so that I'll let you in--you'd probably just as soon kill me for no reason, you monster."

Tears brew in my eyes, a horrific sense of helplessness settling in my gut. What if she refuses to help me? Scourge will die without something to cover him properly! "P-Please!" I choke out, trying valiantly not to cry as desperation sinks in. "I know I'm a t-terrible, horrible m-monster, but m-my friend--he hasn't d-done anything wr-wrong! He n-needs s-something, s-something to cover him from the c-cold--" I suddenly find myself unable to stand properly and my knees lock against each other to keep me from falling. I slump, bent over double, unable to stop myself from crying anymore. The cold burns my eyes, tiny i e shards whipping my face. "Please! Please don't let my friend die!" I yell, sensing surprise flare in the old woman. "He doesn't deserve to die!" Salty tears stream down my face, partly from the stinging and bitter cold and partly from my own terror.

"Alright, alright, kid," she sighs, putting her hands up in defeat. I can tell that she's incredibly confused by my behavior, thinking, 'How on earth is this little hedgehog so feared? For a murderer, he acts a lot like a frightened child, and he looks like a bum, all filthy...' "Wait here." Walking back into the store, she leaves the door ajar, and I wait in the doorframe, quaking. I struggle to keep my eyes open, the darkness seeming to close in around me; after what seems like an eternity, the old woman comes back out and thrusts a wool blanket into my arms. "Here," she snaps grudgingly. "Don't ever come back to my shop again, though--I won't be so charitable next time."

"Thank you," I breathe, clutching the thick cloth to me, but she's already slammed the door shut in my face.

-----------------

The emerald hedgehog stirs in his sleep, feeling something peculiar wrapped around him. It's so cold, he can hardly open his eyes--Are my eyelids frozen shut? He wonders for a moment, frightened, but after a few seconds of trying he manages to force them open. "Huh?" He grunts, looking down; panic flashes in him as he recognizes his friend's jacket draped over him. He looks to his right, where his dark-tempered friend had lain down next to him, but the concrete was bare. "Stripes?!" He calls out, looking around frantically. How long was I asleep? Where did he go?

"Relax, Scourge," a familiar voice rasps, and relief floods the green punk hedgehog as he turns to face the source of the sound. Shadow was walking unsteadily down the alleyway, approaching him, and from his tone of voice Scourge can tell he's wearing his usual smirk. "I just went to get us a blanket--it's too cold for just our jackets." His friend holds an overlarge wool blanket in his arms, so huge that it obscures him from view.

Scourge's ears flick, and fear slowly creeps back into his heart, chilling him more than the snow. "Why did you leave your jacket?" Something's wrong with him, his voice sounds rough and weak...

"You were turning bluer than your twin," his crimson-streaked friend replies simply, stepping a bit closer. His voice wobbles despite his best efforts, and his green cohort realizes that his companion's legs are shaking. "So I left it with you."

"You shouldn't have done that," the punk hedgehog growls, getting to his feet and pulling the jacket off of him. "Now you're the freezing one." Yanking the blanket out of Shadow's hands, he stifles a gasp at the sight of him. Shadow stands unsteadily, wavering from side to side, shivering all over, his face blue-toned and looking weak, like he can hardly keep himself conscious. Ice has crystallizes on the edge of his form, snow plastered to his face, with his eyelids half-frozen; his crimson eyes are bleary and hold a vacant look to them. "Dammit, Stripes," Scourge sighs, helping him walk the few more paces to the dumpster before he collapses; just as they get there, Shadow's legs give out, but his green friend tries to lower him to the ground gently. "Now look what you've done. You were so worried 'bout me, you forgot you're not freakin' immortal." Sitting down next to his half-frozen friend, he pulls the blanket across them both, wrestling with it. "I mean, look at you--you've literally got icicles hanging from your fur!"

Shadow looks down at himself, his eyes glazed over. "Huh, I guess you're right," he replies with a weak laugh. His voice is trembling and unnaturally pitched. "But for all we know, I could be immortal--though, regardless of my mortality, I know I'll be fine, so don't worry," he mumbles with a smile, leaning his head back against the wall. "I just need to sleep it off, that's all..." His voice trails off as his eyes close and his head slumps to one side.

Scourge shoves Shadow's hoodie back on top of him, wrapping it on him in the same fashion that Scourge had been wearing it when he woke up. To the blue-eyed hedgehog's horror, his friend's skin was cold to the touch, and his fur was tangled with ice. "Shadz?" He gently pokes his friend's face, but Shadow doesn't respond. His eyes widen in terror. "Shadz?! Shadow! SHADOW!" Shaking him, the green hedgehog yells his rose-striped friend's name repeatedly as if that will somehow help. "Dammit! Why is it that every time I hang out with you, you wind up almost dying at some point?!"

----------------

In the room, I stand alone. The walls are filled with picture frames, but they're all empty, against a dark red color, blotched with brighter red somehow, but I can't stare at the surface for long enough to figure out what the blotches are. The only thing I can focus on is the frames. They're gold, ornate, and they glitter as though they've been polished recently. Each and every empty frame holds what looks like a black space in it, an endless void which draws my eyes again and again despite my best efforts. My eyes will only focus on the darkness, and the longer I look the more drawn to it I feel. I can't help but reach my hand out, fingers twitching as my gloved hand creeps nearer and nearer--

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a hauntingly familiar voice growls from behind me, and I whirl around, eyes glittering as I search for the speaker.

"Y-You," I stammer, hair on end.

"Me?" The demon smiles, the warped half of its face stretching and wrinkling unnaturally. They've changed a bit--the edges of the blackened area around its right eye is now completely dark, with an almost crystalline texture to it. The iris of that eye is a deep crimson, laced with purple. Deep violet veins lace across the corresponding cheek while the other is unmarked save for the darkness clouded under their eyes. The edge of their darkened flesh bleeds a bright purple energy, billowing into the air. Half their chest fluff is pitch black, and it too seems to ooze energy. Both arms, up to the elbow, are that deep violet with brighter veins crawling up them. Their claws are pitch black and longer than should be possible.

"Why do you look like me?" I whisper, pressing myself up against the wall.

"I am you," it replies, spreading its twisted and gnarled arms in an innocent and open gesture. "Can't you see that? I'm you."

"No, you're not," I hiss, remembering how it savagely tore my face open. "I would never even act like you."

It giggles, folding its hands behind its back. "Ohhhh, but you did~!" It sings, the grin widening as it deliberately pitches its voice higher than normal. "Don't you remember? Though, technically, it wasn't really you--not the second time, that is. But I was once an unquestioned part of you." Striding forward calmly, the smile still emblazoned across its face, it begins to lecture me in its disgusting sing-song voice. "When you yelled at Rouge, that was me. The bit about hearing her," the monster raises one hand to tap at the side of its head, just as I had done, "in here? That was me." The smile fades to a feigned pout as they lower their arm. "You should have given me credit."

"Wh-What?!" I choke in disbelief. "You--You're lying!"

"Hey, that hurts," the monster replies, knitting its brows together in an expression of sadness. "I do have feelings you know. Besides, that was me before I finally fragmented from you...Now, I'm a decent bit my own person. And," stretching one arm out in front of them, the monster inspects its nails, "I'm starting to figure out that I can be the one in control." A wicked grin cracks across their face. "Surely you remember that moment when you presented the metro cards to Scourgie, riiiiiight?" They giggle. "Do you remember what it felt like, to be the one inside, instead of being dominant? Because believe me, you, I will not forget what it felt like to be in charge." The beaming smile turns sinister. "And someday, I'll get there, and stay there."

A sick feeling weighs in my stomach like a rock. "B-Bastard," I hiss, too horrified to think of anything else. "You're not me. And I'll never be you."

The simper returns, this time with a hungry undertone to it. "Oh, no, that's not my goal anymore. I'm not aiming to be you, darling, especially not since I already technically am. And I'm not aiming to turn you into me, for the same reason. I'm just going to take over running this...operation for you, you know?" Their eyes roll from right to left, shifting as though the eyeballs in their skull weren't controllable. "Hey, do you see any doors here? Hmm? Do you see any doooooors?"

Confused, I flash a glance to my left, then my right. "I don't see anything past you," I reply, turning my attention back to them. "But this room is bound to have a door somewhere."

The already disturbingly huge grin on their face somehow gets a bit larger at that. "How optimistic of you! But you're wrong, sadly. You're not leaving here, not this time. I won't let you get away." Their voice turns from singing to a deep and dark snarl. "You're mine, this time. There's no way out." Stepping ever closer, they open their mouth wide, saliva dripping off their teeth, gleaming and shining in the dimly lit room.

I flatten my palms against the wall, terrified; my fingers graze a picture frame, and an idea flashes into my head. Rapidly, I turn around and shove my arm into the empty void of a frame, desperate to escape. A howl escapes my lips as a feeling like a thousand suns burning the flesh off my bones engulfs my arm, but I can't pull it back out. The monster behind me roars, "NO!" as I shove myself into the darkness, forcing myself to ignore the pain. The moment my head enters the darkness, all sound stops save for a high-pitched ringing noise. Grimacing, I clutch my hands to my ears and look around. Everything's the same in all directions--I can't tell which direction I came from or which one I should go in. My heart starts to pound as disorientation sets in, a sense of vertigo plaguing me as I hang suspended, nothing anchoring me, nothing pulling me down. Which way is left? Right? Up? How do I know? The burning sensation stopped as soon as I was fully submerged, but I felt like I couldn't breathe in this darkness. It had a tangible presence against my skin, slithering through my fur... I shudder, pulling my arms close to me. What is this? Lifting my head, I desperately search the darkness as my lungs tighten. My chest is burning, begging me to just exhale already, and I tremble with the effort of restraining myself.

The blackness around me suddenly turns oily, oozing across my body, and the ringing sound intensifies; horrified, I thrash as I feel it coil around me. It's just like the branches of that horrid, green-tinted forest! Writhing, I try to escape, but I don't know if I'm moving towards the surface or further down. The void curls around me, prying at my lips, as my lungs beg for air. Behind me, I hear something shift in the fluid, but before I can react it stabs into me, first through my ribcage, right between my spines, then through my side; I feel it tear through my organs and a screech escapes from me. The oil rushes into my mouth, forcing itself down my throat. I panic, choking on it, thrashing as my blood oozes from my wounds, forming red tendrils lacing through the liquid, not unlike the purple veins clawing their way across the monster's face. Despite my struggles, the oil keeps stabbing me over and over again, and each new wound is rapidly filled by the blackness. Terror grips me as I feel it sliding beneath my fur, in my veins, and I let out another desperate howl with the last breath of air left in my lungs.

Something grips my face suddenly, claws digging into the exposed flesh of my muzzle, and I look up. The monster hangs suspended over me, still grinning. "What a good boy you are, so obediently walking headfirst into my trap~!" Trembling, I stare, not comprehending, as they pull their face closer to mine. Black fluid oozes from their mouth, and they grin at me, eyes wild and twitching. "I'll do the talking from now on, for you, yeah?" The black drips from their gaping maw, oozing and slithering through the empty air into my eyes until all I can see is their ebony darkness, the monster's maniacal laugh echoing in my ears.