The first thing I hear is the mug shattering, but the first thing I feel is the knife that damned demon plunged into my head. Much as I know that second item isn't real, to my chagrin, the first one is. I flinch as hot latte splashes across my lap, shards of ceramic slicing across my side, spilling onto me and into my coat. My vision flickers and flares between black and shades of red, tinting the world unnaturally, and time seems to slow, but only for me. I watch dazedly, hearing every heartbeat in my ears, as people's heads turn in slow motion. Rouge is scrambling to her feet, looking shocked, and I see her mouthing the words "Are you okay?" but they don't seem to reach my ears. All I can think is... Who is that hooded figure standing by the door?

------------
Rouge's POV

The mug hits the table and completely disintegrates, tiny shrapnel-like pieces of it scattering across the table as he sits there, eyes wide and blank; the other customers turn to look at us in fright and worry, but just as rapidly as he spaced out, my crimson-streaked partner snaps back to life, looking down at the mess like it's the first time he's seen it. A waiter rushes over to help us mop it up, and Shadow quickly picks up the pieces, but something isn't right about his eyes. They're still glazed-over, still dead inside, but he acts so... normal.

"Ah, sorry!" He stutters, blushing fervently, "I'm so clumsy sometimes, I swear." Moving to help the waiter clean this debacle up as well, I scan my eyes across my vampiric partner's face, confused. He's acting...too normal. This isn't like him, not at all. As he sheepishly hands the scattered remains of the mug back to the waiter, I can't help but wonder if he's even really here right now. Shadow isn't clumsy at all, I say to myself, fear stabbing into my heart. And that wasn't an ordinary mistake. He honestly looked...Scared. But why? My chest contracts worriedly and I bite my lip. He's been so distant all day—in fact, now that I think about it— my mind flashes back to our last few missions, rapidly reviewing and assessing his behavior over the previous week—it's almost like he has these...these episodes, like he's somehow a different person, every other day... A chill runs up my spine as the waiter finally finishes mopping up the mess and dismissing Shadow's effusive little speeches with a simple 'It was just a mistake, we'll get you another one, don't worry.' What does this mean?

What is wrong with my partner?

-------------
Third-Person POV

The bat's eyes drift across the ebony-and-scarlet hedgehog's pale face as he turns away from where the waiter had stood mere moments ago; his eyes lock with hers, and her fur fluffs involuntarily. Glittering ruby eyes hold a vacant glaze to them, accentuated by the darkness gathered under his eyes and the small yet emotionless smirk plastered to his muzzle. His fangs hook over his bottom lip as the smile widens a little bit, a very light, sheepish blush spreading across his cheeks. "Ah, sorry, Rouge," he says apologetically, but the tone in his voice sounds like it masks a hollowness within; his eyelashes flutter through the air as he blinks a bit slowly.

"The hell happened?" The white bat finally speaks, looking a little spooked, yet hiding it well; she sits down and crosses her legs, trying to keep them from shaking. She leans back in her chair, arms crossed protectively across her chest, wings folded around her shoulders.

"It slipped out of my hands," he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back as well, legs stretched out beneath the table. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he tilts his head to one side, a flat look of concern on his face. "That must've been a little unpleasant, given your sensitive ears and all..." He scratches his neck sheepishly. "Sorry. Uh, again."

"I-It's not a big deal, I just—" she stops, then bites her lip, carefully choosing her next words. He blinks a few times, in a deliberate manner as opposed to the natural reflex, waiting patiently as she composes herself. "Are you okay? You're not usually clumsy, at all..." She trails off, leaning forward a bit with concern, her eyes boring into his, though he seems unfazed by the intensity of her stare.

"Guess I'm just a bit tired," he lies through his teeth, and her ears flick as she thinks carefully, mind working much faster than his, "and not as adept as I usually am."

"Yeah," she replies, still a bit wary, and leaning back again. "Sure." The two sit in tense silence for a long time, each thinking intently, and, surprisingly...each worrying about the other.

----------------
Shadow's POV

I don't know why I can't just tell her, I sigh internally as I take a bite out of my sandwich, although, this isn't the right time or place for something like that. We'd sat in silence for a while, yet slowly but surely conversation picked up again. Though now that our food is here, we're too busy stuffing our faces to speak, which is something I'm grateful for. I still don't feel quite right, like I'm not entirely...here. It feels like there's a second delay between me doing something and me feeling whatever it is that I'm doing—after a second, I realize that this feeling is the same one I last felt quite a long time ago, back when I was still hanging out with Scourge. Oh, great, is this going to be a recurring thing too? Pausing to chew, I narrow my eyes, trying to focus, and as I swallow the bite I'm working on, I find (to my relief) that the sensation is slowly dissipating. Sighing contentedly as I come back to earth, I tip my head to one side, gazing out the window.

"Hey," Rouge says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts; my eyes slide over to her as I take another bite of my sandwich. "Try to hurry up a little bit, 'kay?" She smirks, taking a bite of her food, and I nod silently to show her that I understand, not exactly trusting myself to speak yet. I'm here, but I don't know how much of me is here, and there's no way I can do anything out of the ordinary now, not after that. My eyes skitter over to the doorway, nervously, but the hooded figure I saw standing there is gone, thankfully. I can deal with it when I'm all alone, asleep, but... My eyes drift down to the mug of coffee the staff so graciously replaced. When I'm with other people, they're at risk too. My heart clenches, and I swallow roughly, not feeling very hungry anymore. I shouldn't be around people. At all. But I can't change that anymore... I mechanically lift my food to my face again, staring off into space. I already signed on to work with Rouge, and I feel horrible enough about that incident a few nights ago—it's clear that I matter to her, a lot more than I thought I did. My fangs sink into the soft bread, but it's no longer appetizing, though I know I need to eat it to keep my energy up. I can't do something like that to her again, but I can't let her know what's going on, either. Pausing to chew, I blink a couple times, realizing I've let my eyes glaze over again. This doesn't strike me as something I can get help for...and I still don't even know how to bring it up... Groaning inwardly, I chew carefully, flicking my ears as the door opens, letting in a current of cold air. I didn't know how back when Scourge and I were together, and I still don't know, even after all this time—isn't that sad? Taking another bite of my sandwich, I pause to wipe my mouth off, eyes continuing to rove the room in a mildly paranoid fashion even though I know nothing's going to happen.

Time passes, and in short order the two of us have finished our food and have gone back to chattering cheerfully over our coffee while we wait for the check. As we speak, I feel myself relaxing, going back to normal, or at least the closest to 'normal' that I'll ever come; our conversation drifts from topic to topic, wandering about. The cheerful sunlight streaming in, combined with the pale-yellow walls and clean, dark hardwood furniture and floor have a plain and simple, homely vibe, and it's difficult not to feel relaxed here, but the calm feels like a thin veneer over the chaos in my mind. By the time we finally do get our bill, though, we're definitely ready to leave—today's been such an action-packed day that sitting still for this long has felt wrong, somehow. Thankfully, we're able to hit the road in no time, and the rest of the day whizzes past rapidly. In what feels like mere moments, we're already back at the very first shop we went to, only now we're picking up my coat as opposed to dropping it off. Rouge refuses to let me leave until I've tried the jacket on, much to my chagrin; she, as well as the employees, insist that they need to make sure it fits. It does, of course, and both Rouge and I give them our many thanks. I'm so pleased to have it back—they didn't even clean it or anything, just patched it up, and as I hug it close to me in order to fit all the crap we're carrying in my arms, I realize it still faintly smells like him, most likely from all the time it spent in his closet. I should go visit him tomorrow—maybe even tonight if Rouge will let me! My eyes slide over to her; she's carrying her fair share of bags, too, and her steps are a little wobbly as we approach the stairs. I bite my lip to keep from laughing, picturing how funny we must look to everyone else, two small anthropomorphic animals carting something like 30 pounds of clothing through the lower floor of Rouge's establishment. Fortunately, since the sun hasn't even set yet, the club portion of it (the bottom floor we're currently walking through) is still closed, making it easy to get up to our apartment. The only obstacle we'll have to face is the stairs.

"Oi," I start, "Rouge...?" Trailing off, I wait for her to acknowledge me so I know she's listening.

"Yeah?" She grunts in response, trying to heft the bags into a bit of an easier position for her to carry it.

"How the hell are we gonna get these upstairs?" Groaning, I roll my shoulders, trying to loosen them up a little without dropping anything.

"No idea," she wheezes, kicking open the door to the stairs with a flap of her wings to help stabilize her. I automatically shift all the bags to one arm, stretching a hand out such that my fingers graze the small of her back, ready to catch her if she falls, but she regains her balance easily, though she does wobble a slight bit as she starts to go up the stairs. I keep close behind her, still concerned that she might fall, but fortunately we make it up the stairs with no issue.

"Why don't the elevators extend to the first floor too?" I complain, panting quietly under the weight of all these bags, my back bent over backwards in such a manner that it's hard to catch my breath.

"Because," she answers breathlessly,"it'd be dangerous to leave easy access to the residential areas to whoever walks in here." Growling, she shifts position, pausing, and I bite my lip to keep from whining in irritation. I'm getting really tired of holding all this... "And besides," she starts going again, thankfully, "at least we can lock the door to the stairs."

"Anyone can pick a lock, though," I grumble, gritting my teeth as we finally scale the stairs.

She snorts, flicking her ears in irritation. "I know that," she snaps, "but you can't lock an elevator door."

"True," I muse as Rouge fumbles with the keys to unlock our apartment door. "I suppose that does make sense." The door unlocks with a mildly grinding click, and she shoves it open with her shoulders easily; she trots in, and I kick the door closed behind us as she rushes to the living room to dump everything on the coffee table with a groan. I follow suit, though I set my weight down with a bit more elegance and a smirk. She straightens up, stretching and yawning. "Alright, let's sort through this stuff so I can take it to the laundromat tomorrow." She pulls a shirt out of one bag, setting it down on the couch. "Lights go on this side, darks on that side. Got it?"

"Mm-hmm," I answer, joining her; the two of us work side-by-side for quite a while, and eventually we have two piles on the couch and nothing left in the bags. Rouge and I stand triumphantly, me with my arms crossed and her with arms akimbo, admiring our work for a moment.

"Alright," she sighs, "now..." She starts to walk out of the room, and my eyes follow her. "We have to put these piles in two separate baskets so I can carry them." The snow-white bat calls over her shoulder as she walks out of my sight; puzzled, I blink after her, but don't move. Carry them? Tipping my head to one side slightly, I furrow my brows. Carry them where? The air conditioning kicks on and my ears twitch as the newly-introduced wind buffets them. Huh... Welllllll, I didn't exactly see a washing machine in here, so I guess she goes somewhere else to wash clothes. But where? I hook a fang over my lip, thinking carefully. I suppose in crowded, metropolitan areas like this one, it might be a good idea to have public services for that, since plumbing of that sort takes quite a bit of effort. My thoughts are interrupted when Rouge cheerfully paces back into the room, a medium-sized wicker basket in each hand, humming pleasantly. "Okay, help me out a bit, will ya?"

"Of course," I answer smoothly, helping her set the baskets down, starting to dump clothes into them. "Say, where are you going to be carrying these to, anyways?" I inquire nonchalantly, trying to mask my curiosity under a veneer of polite conversation.

"The laundromat down the street," she answers, pausing to push her hair off her shoulders and behind her. "Only problem with this apartment is the lack of washing machine...and dryer." She sighs, picking up one of the last dark garments.

I shrug, picking up the last few light garments. "At least you've got something down the street," I reply, flicking my ears. A 'laundromat,' huh? I furrow my brows, straightening up and picking up the laundry basket; it's surprisingly heavy, considering it's just filled with cloth. I wonder what that would look like.

"Put that over by the door," Rouge says, hefting her own basket with a bit of effort.

"'Kay," Trying to keep my arms locked, I dig my claws into the wicker, struggling a bit to keep a grip on it. Heaving our way across the living room, we both plop the baskets down side by side, by the front door, each equally tired. Rouge heaves a loud sigh, wiping her forehead with the back of one hand. I straighten up again, popping my back in a stretch, and she smiles at me tiredly.

"Well, that's that," she says cheerfully, standing up straight too. "We've done all the shopping we need to do," the azure-eyed bat trots over to the coat-rack beside the door, finally pulling off her coat, continuing as I follow suit, "and sometime soon I'll get everything washed. Maybe even tomorrow, if we have the day off."

An idea flashes through my head. "Oi," I suddenly blurt, "if we have the day off tomorrow, can I go visit Scourge?" My ears prick and I look up at her, trying not to seem too terribly hopeful, though I am holding my breath in anticipation.

She glances down as she adjusts her coat and the peg, and a warm smile spreads across her face. "Of course," she says pleasantly, though there's an odd knowing undertone to it. "If we have tomorrow off, you can go to see him while I do the laundry, alright?" With that, the ivory girl places a hand on my head, rubbing it like one would pet a dog; normally, I'd growl in irritation at being treated that way, but in all actuality it felt kinda...nice. Especially after the long and exciting day we've had. After a few seconds, she pulls her hand away and turns around, heading down the hall. "We should probably get to bed," she says, flapping her wings a few times as she rounds the corner, "we've had a pretty action-packed day, so we oughta get some rest."

"Sounds like a plan to me," I reply, but I don't follow her right away. Instead, I turn and look at my coat, hanging peacefully next to hers. Confusion clouds me as I gaze at it blankly; my mind wanders back to the restaurant, and the events that occurred within it. Why do these things keep happening to me? I ask myself. What is wrong with me? A heavy weight seems to press down on my shoulders, sadness draping itself over me like a death shroud. I lower my head, running my hands along the coat's slick and smooth material. I don't know what's going on... I don't know how to deal with this... Blinking a few times, I take a sharp breath in, realizing that I'm on the verge of tears. Shit, I can't—I can't afford to lose it now. Rubbing a hand across my eyes, I try to wipe away the liquid before it falls down my face. I can't do this, I just fucking can't do this. It's been a long day, a long week, year, life. Stepping back, I shake off my shoes, the wood floor seeping coldness into my socks, freezing my feet, but I ignore it, turning on my heel. I just need to sleep. Maybe this will seem clearer in the morning... Heaving a heavy sigh, I drag myself back to my room, rubbing my hands across my biceps, eyes drifting downward. It's cold in here, as per usual, and I seem to be feeling it more than I normally would, though that doesn't really matter to me. In all honesty, I wouldn't even care if I froze to death in the middle of the night, even if it isn't that cold in here. It seems like just when things are going alright for me, something happens to remind me that my life will never be okay. It'll just always be shitty. My thoughts turn darker and darker as I open my bedroom door, shutting it with a dull thump behind me. Tossing back the sheets, I plop onto the bed, exhaustedly dragging the covers over my limp form with a sigh. Rolling over, I let my arms flop into comfortable positions, my right arm draped across my forehead, left arm simply lying limp on the mattress as I gaze out the window. It's not snowing tonight, unfortunately; I can't watch the snowflakes drift down until I fall asleep, so I just stare at the crescent moon surrounded by twinkling stars. The sky looks like watercolor painting, clouds drifting lazily across it, and a yawn splits my face as my eyes start to drift closed...

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

My eyes flutter open to a light blue sky, blurry and indistinct. I can't move, I can't even turn my head, and as I lie there I hear voices start to speak. They sound far-off at first, but as my vision clears their sounds do too, but I find myself wishing they hadn't. I blink a few times, but I can't even move my eyes; all I see is a building, towering over me, but after a few moments, silhouettes blur into view, and I realize the voices are coming from them. Straining, I try to piece together what they're saying...

"Huh, so he really did it?" One says, but I can't tell where they are.

"Guess so," another replies. Both sound so blasé, and I wonder what they're talking about.

"Took him long enough," a third snorts, and I notice more silhouettes coming into view, like people are crowding around me.

"I know, right?" Yet another laughs. "Finally offed himself. Good-damned-riddance!" Something smacks into my side, sending an odd pins-and-needles sensation through my whole body, and realization slams in to me simultaneously. Me. They're talking about me. My heart feels like it shatters as another blow smashes into my other side, accompanied by raucous laughter. At each bellow of cackling, another hit crashes into my lifeless body; at the fifth or sixth blow, I finally regain movement in my head, and it lolls to the right automatically. A jolt of surprise flashes through me as I realize someone else is standing there, off to the side. Pristine white boots with heart-shaped toes lead up to thighs clad in tight spandex, and my eyes drift further up to meet hers.

Rouge, I try to say, but my mouth doesn't work. To my surprise, though, I think she hears me—a smile spreads across her muzzle, and she steps forward a pace, crossing her arms and staring down at me, the picture of happiness. Sudden calm floods me as I look at her; I realize everything will be alright. It's Rouge, and she's here to save me, to help me, and she'll know what to do. She bends down, still smiling warmly, though the words that come out of her mouth are anything but sweet.

"Tch, finally," she sneers. "Wasted enough of my time on you... Thank God you finally realized nobody was gonna miss you if you went."

-------

I jolt upright with a loud gasp, claws slashing into the sheets as I grip them tightly, fur on end, spines flared. My vision, tinged red, shoots around the room as my heart beats out of my chest; after a few seconds, I realize where I am, relaxing. Feeling a bit silly, I bite my lip, eyes roving the room as I try to figure out how much time has passed. My eyes feel dry, fur sweaty and gross, so I pull the sheets off of myself, hands shaking, heart pounding. That was one hell of a dream, I think to myself, panting a little bit. Worry flickers through me suddenly. Rouge wouldn't really say that to me... Right? I glance out the window, pulling my knees up to my chest. No, she wouldn't. Absolutely not. She's too nice. I bite my lip, wrapping my arms around me as I let my chin drop to rest on my heels. That was just my imagination, just a paranoid dream. I don't really annoy her, do I? Uncomfortable, I growl softly. If I annoyed her, she'd say something, so just shut up and quit overreacting! This is just as fake as every other nightmare you've ever had. Sighing, I let go of my knees, falling backwards again, this time with my hands folded on top of my chest. Just a dream. That's all it was. I stare blankly at the ceiling, shivering slightly, half from the cold and half from adrenaline. Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I do my best to relax, but before I can even begin to calm down a knock sounds at the door. Confused, I turn my head to face it; it creaks open to reveal a rather concerned-looking bat.

I jolt upright, immediately worried. Why is she here? Did I wake her? "Rouge?"

"Hey," she says, sliding into the room and closing the door behind her; she leans on it with both hands, using her body weight to shut it. For a moment, she seems uncomfortable and awkward, standing there in a ruby-red tank top (god only knows how), a noir robe and black yoga pants, but she shakes it off as she walks towards me; I scoot to one side, knowing she'll want to sit next to me. "I was kinda hoping you'd be awake," she admits, and I quirk an eyebrow at her, confused. She continues before I can say anything, though, as she sits down next to me on the bed, her legs hanging off, back to me. "Did you have another nightmare?"

I fold my knees, still partly covered by my blankets, up to my chest again, and look away from her. "...Yeah." I reply as I lean back, putting my hands behind me, feigning nonchalance, my shoulders locked to keep me stable. She doesn't say anything, and I glance over my shoulder at her, confused. "Why are you awake?"

Now it's her turn to look away as she says, "Couldn't sleep, is all." With a sigh, the ivory-furred bat shakes her wings out, then lifts her legs and turns to sit beside me in the bed. "Uh...y'know," she starts awkwardly, and I lean forward, off of my shoulders, to sit upright as she is. "If you tell me, it'll go away. The nightmare, I mean. At least, that's what my parents always told me, a-and it's never failed me." She blurts, stammering a bit, and I tip my head to one side as a slight blush dusts across her cheeks.

I really don't know if that'd work... I muse silently, eyes narrowing as I think carefully. Then again, it's not like I've ever tried it before. Closing my eyes, I look away, draping my arms across my knees and resting my chin on my forearms. "It's not that important... And I wouldn't know how to explain them, either..." I reply slowly. There's no way I can tell her that she was in my nightmare. That'd be a great way to ruin our friendship. I snarl inward, feeling bitter. Why do I have to have these dreams?

"Oh," she answers, sounding a bit embarrassed. "Th-That's fine." I can tell from the emotions bleeding off her that she's worried she overstepped her boundaries, or that I don't trust her enough to tell her, and that upsets her.

Opening my eyes, I tilt my head a little bit, looking at her out of the periphery of my vision. "Rouge..."

"Yeah?" She leans forward a bit, looking down at me, hopeful.

"I don't want you to think I don't trust you," I bluntly state in a monotone voice, and her eyes widen, stunned, "I just don't want to upset you. My problems are mine and mine alone, and I'd rather deal with them by myself..." I trail off as I see her eyes start to water, shocked. Oh, shit—did I say the wrong thing?!

"Oh, Shadow," she sighs, suddenly wrapping her arms around me and tugging me close to her. "When are you going to learn that you don't have to deal with it all on your own?" My jaw falls open slightly, my mind bluescreening as I try to come to grips with what's going on. She's crying...over...me? "You're my teammate, my partner, and I care about you, dammit, so don't shut me out! I want to be there for you," she pulls back suddenly, grabbing my chin with one hand and forcing me to look at her, "and I know you might not be ready to tell me—that's okay too!—but I just want you to know that I'm always gonna be here." I stare at her, still blanking out; after a long pause, she lets go of my face and hugs me again. Eventually, I find my voice, and even though it sounds a lot rougher than usual I still manage to string together a sentence.

Unfortunately, that sentence is downright stupid. "Rouge, I...I don't know what to say," I offer lamely, slowly lifting my own hands up to wrap my arms around her stiffly. She chuckles softly, nuzzling my forehead.

"You don't have to say anything." She answers, running her fingers through my quills. "Although... I thought you didn't like hugs?"

I blanch, feeling my cheeks heat up, deeply grateful for the fact that she can't see my face right now. "Well," I reply in a defensive tone, thinking frantically. "I-I wasn't lying, I still don't like them. But I—" I hesitate, trying to articulate myself properly. "I like you, so I don't mind, in this case." I hope that makes sense. Does that make sense?

She laughs, finally letting go. "You've got some strange logic, Shadow," Rouge scratches my forehead, ruffling my spines, and I flush as I close my eyes reflexively, mildly embarrassed. "It's," she pauses, pulling her hand back as my eyes open automatically to see her tipping her head to one side, "it's kinda cute, actually."

My muzzle flares red. "I'm not cute!" I bristle, frustrated, but she just shrugs my protest off with a giggle, standing up and getting off my bed. A wave of cold air hits me suddenly, and I have a sudden impulse to grab her again, pull her back; baffled, I lean away from her, like that can somehow stop me from doing something that stupid. What the hell—why would I do that?!

"Well," she chirps, interrupting my thoughts, "we've got another eventful day ahead of us tomorrow, so you should probably get some sleep now, y'know?"

"Y-yeah," I stutter, still staring at her. She smiles again, opening my bedroom door and leaving with a slight whoosh noise as the door shuts. I remain frozen for a moment, trying my best to figure out what just happened. I still don't know why she came in here... Nor do I know if I woke her up or if she really couldn't sleep. Neither is a good option—if I knew I woke her, I'd feel more guilty than I do already, and if she really couldn't sleep then that's bad too, though I can't fathom why she wouldn't sleep. My brows crease as a sudden thought strikes me. Dammit, no—I've been so...so... My eyes suddenly water and I smack my forehead with the palm of my hand, frustrated. "How goddamned selfish am I?" I snarl aloud, flinging the covers off of myself in a mad rush. I'm not the only one with problems! I've been so self-absorbed that I haven't even stopped to consider her feelings... Upset, I glare out the window, uncertain as to what I should do with this epiphany. After a long pause, I resolve that there really isn't anything I can do—she has, undoubtably, gone back to her room, and I can't just follow her. Unlike her, I'm not willing to barge into others' rooms at the drop of a hat (though really, I'm not complaining), so I guess I'll just wait until tomorrow to speak with her again. If I remember...

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

I never truly fell back to sleep after that incident, choosing instead to stare out the window as the sky lightens. My eyes are dry, my back aches from the slouch I've kept up all night, and yet I'm not tired at all. Honestly, I never even moved until I heard footsteps in the hall, signaling that Rouge has woken up; I straighten up a bit, turning my head to stare at the closet. Since my hoodie is currently in the laundry basket, I don't have anything to wear, not really. I'm probably gonna be pretty cold when I step out of the shower today... Blinking slowly, I stare blankly at the wall, trying to think. I probably should have slept a bit last night... My head lists to one side as I hear the door open.

"Oh!" Rouge chirps, surprised. "You're awake already?"

I twist to face her, ears perking. "Yeah." I lie with a small smile, "I got up early." Pushing myself off my bed, I stand up tall, turning on my heel to face her fully. "What's on the agenda today?" I inquire, striding around the bed and towards her.

She grins. "Just another typical day..."