Despite all that was going through her head – not to mention all that she was trying to keep from going through her head – Amy had one phrase stick in her mind. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. In a small voice in the back of her head, the very small part of her that could have any sense of humor right now, she thought, well, what happens three times?

The first time was so long ago, she could hardly remember it. She remembered having lunch with Silver, him running off, and then… well, everything went blurry after that. The second time, though, she was aware of what was happening. How her skin practically jumped with the movement of hundreds, maybe even thousands of tiny robots in her blood. How the thrum of electricity sparking to life in her felt like everything brought alive. How the voices of one, two, many, all, echoed and merged in her head like a Greek chorus. How she felt like she could do anything, like they all could do everything. How she was no longer she.

And with that, her voice became a drop in a tidal wave, no, a hurricane, that would wash away everything that wasn't Them and The Purpose they followed.

The worst part of falling again, now that she could remember exactly what it felt like, was that it felt entirely logical. Enticing, even. Nobody fought under The Purpose. Nobody felt sad, or angry, or lonely. There was no need to. The comfort of knowing all were taken care of, and that nobody had to fight for things that seemed so basic as food and shelter. In a way, it was a utopia – the kind of world she pushed so hard for with the others.

So now, as she again felt the buzzing of nanites going back to life, she knew that it was only a matter of time before their siren song pulled her back in, even at the worst kind of cost.

She saw through tear blurred vision that Sonic was trying to put the machine back together. Even from across the room, she knew it was a lost cause. Doctor Eggman had pulled out full wires and gears, not being at all gentle with his movements. That Doctor only laughed now, comforted in the knowledge that though she was nearby, the two hedgehogs were closer.

"Shadow!" he called out. "Can we fix this?"

Shadow looked exasperated and tired. "We don't have the supplies," he said.

"Can't we pull some wire out of the ceiling?"

"Not without electrocuting ourselves. And it won't be the right kind."

She stopped screaming, not even realizing her voice had gone hoarse with the effort. There was no point. There was nothing more to do. She felt a swell of anger towards the Doctor. How dare he try to use her as a weapon? He couldn't imagine a world where she wouldn't immediately fall in step with what he wanted, even though it had never turned out that way in the past. He thought she would betray the boy she loved and the one he loved in turn, and only then would he fix it. Only when he could know how to keep them in their places.

He didn't know how to stop them, though. He had no answers for repairing the machine either. She felt the anger die, something smooth and liquid taking its place. Something started to whisper in her head, and her heart ached for it.

No!

She looked at the two of them, and rushed towards the Chaos Emerald. She grabbed it and, despite the underlying pulsing and throbbing telling her to keep the source of limitless energy, threw it to Shadow. "Go!" she yelled, her body fighting every nerve, every impulse to just sit and let The Purpose take her. "They know you're here," she said, huffing as she moved closer, "and they're coming!"

Sonic and Shadow looked at her with twin expressions of concern on their faces. Shadow caught the stone midair, not even turning his gaze away from her. She felt her body shake, and she fell forward. All being told, she didn't actually know Shadow well at all. They had talked in the ARK – a rare respite from fighting, chasing, and averting disasters – but since then, her focus had been on the blue hedgehog who stood next to him. She knew that both of them would be in danger if they stayed. She knew she would be the danger if they stayed.

Sonic, though, was still bent over the machine, poking with wires and insisting to Shadow that they could not, would not leave her behind. It was this spirit that made her love him – this willingness to leave everything behind for the good of his friends, and that he let himself fall for them. He was fiercely, painfully loyal to a fault, and would never give up on the people he cared about. That was what she loved, but it would also keep him from doing what he needed to do.

She forced herself to her feet, made the decision, and acted.

Amy screeched as she drew close, Sonic and Shadow practically jumping out of her way. She knew how she must have looked to them, her eyes practically feral despite the tears. Did they think she was already gone? That she was lost? In a way, that would be better than this – that she would knowingly doom herself, at least for the time being. One final sprint, and with an arc of her hammer, she made the device a heap of scrap. The two hedgehogs shifted to a look of surprise, in unison, before she could hoarsely call out to them again. "I said go! Leave!"

The two looked at the shards of metal, then at her. She'd broken the machine apart, destroying any hope of repair. Her throat tightened as she felt a small grin come to her face, wavering and allowing panting breaths to come through. There was no way they would fix it, she knew. The only way they could save her was to save everyone. That was what she was counting on.

Sonic called out to her, but she couldn't hear him anymore – a ringing sound vibrated in her ears, and her vision went blurry. It was over. She knew that. It was useless to fight what was inside her anymore. What she knew she belonged to. A gasp and trembling breath did nothing to steady herself as she saw a bright flash in front of her, instead finally letting her tear filled eyes overflow. She hated admitting it to herself, she really, really did, but the way those two grasped each other's hands, drawing in close to each other as they Chaos Controlled to some far off place… she felt herself be happy.

But they weren't truly together, the voice in her mind said. They wouldn't be until they have their Gifts. Until they know The Purpose as well.

And she sank.

The Doctor watched from a corner of the room. Admittedly, he had not thought this through. He had been able to hide from Amy before when her sinking into The Purpose was a surprise and not an intent, but his laughter and confidence in quick machinery skills had predictably led to his downfall yet again. Before, he had escaped her notice. Now, he was all she could notice.

As he shook, the weight of his backfired plan sinking in, the body looked on with no expression. It had been scared of him before, but there was no need now. What it knew now that it didn't know then was that while he had been smart enough to create them, he was only a man. Here, in this place, he was limited. He was frail.

It knew he wasn't strong enough to break his own barricades. It knew he wasn't fast enough to evade the body, rejoined and revitalized. And now, with the machine destroyed, there was enough metal for his body and for everyone it would take thereafter. It was only a matter of time.

The GUN base looked worse for wear when Sonic and Shadow arrived. Metal doors had been stripped from their hinges, and a lot of the equipment was in various states of disarray. Tables were knocked over, missing legs or even part of their bases. Sonic couldn't pinpoint exactly where they were – his own encounters at GUN were limited, normally involving an escorted visit to the Commander at the best of times and Chaos Energy suppressing shackles at the worst of times. He'd never been a normal foot soldier or agent like his boyfriend. It felt odd for him to be the one being shown around unfamiliar ground.

He turned to look at Shadow, who had just let go of his hand, and before he could get the words out, Shadow said, "It's the armory."

Sonic looked around, puzzled at the words. The walls and tables were bare. "But there are no weapons?" he said.

"The Taken don't want to use deadly weapons. They only need to incapacitate for long enough to get more people. I guessed, correctly it seems, that weaponry would be the first items they would take for scrap."

"What about the darts they use?"

"Probably an afterthought." Shadow shrugged his shoulders, taking a few paces away from Sonic. "This was one of the first places they took. They may not have known was the machines were for." He trailed his hand on a particular table, moving it like he was used to picking up something right from there. "Even if they had, the contents of this room would have been overkill. Literally."

Sonic didn't want to think too much of the implications of Shadow being around lethal weaponry enough to make that kind of judgement call, instead letting himself look around the room in a new light. Sure enough, now that he was able to know the history of this place, he could see the remnants of boxes of artillery, and the grips that would have been on guns. The rubber pieces were limp on the floor, almost worse than the statue fragments from the museum. He swallowed, taking it in. He supposed, now that he was thinking about it, that most of the kinds of weapons GUN develops wouldn't be of use to a mostly-pacifist hivemind. He'd never been a fan of guns or deadly weapons of any kind, that was true – in fact, Shadow's use of them was the source of many of their arguments – so in a way, this was a kind of positive change.

He shook his head. That was one of the things about this whole incident that was so insidious. On the whole, the Taken were making only positive changes, aside from taking people over. No more weapons. Food distributed evenly so none of them went hungry. Healthcare completely free and efficient. Even public transportation and scientific advancement were moving forward at unprecedented paces, now that politics and arguments were out of the way and humanity could just focus on its collective good. But the cost of all this was the loss of who all of these people were. No choice. No freedom. No self. It made him angry and frustrated beyond anything else.

Sonic shook his head, trying to close the gap between Shadow and himself. "Now we're here. Wherever here is," he said to the other. Shadow turned to look at him, but didn't acknowledge the words. "I don't know where we are, so you need to lead the way. How do we get out of the armory to wherever this robot-maker thing is?"

Shadow, instead of answering or moving, turned to face Sonic and planted his feet. "We aren't going yet," he said. His stare was as firm as his glance, locked on Sonic's face. "We need to talk first."

Sonic gulped. "N-now?" he said, his voice shaking despite himself.

"Yes," Shadow said. "Now."

His voice was quiet and strong. He didn't seem angry – and Sonic was glad for that, since an angry Shadow would have likely ended in him finding the one functioning weapon still left in this place for a warning shot – but he did seem stern.

"Do you know why this situation makes me so tense?"

Sonic stopped, blinking at the question with no reply coming to mind. To be honest, Shadow hadn't seemed that much more tense than usual when he'd seen him. He hadn't known him much outside of fights, missions, and whatever this post apocalyptic hellscape was. He had always thought this is just how Shadow was.

Then again… back at his home, when he still could go to his home, Shadow had visited with books in hand and coffee in cups. Looking back, he had been relaxed. Was that how he normally was when he wasn't fighting or scared? A sense of dread crawled up Sonic's stomach. How could he be so dense? He felt like he didn't know Shadow at all.

"Gerald Robotnik knew from the day I was created that I was considered property. That I was a tool in someone else's plan. And he created me anyway, to save his granddaughter." His gloves, still somehow clean and white even after all this fighting, were beginning to fray. He moved his fingers back and forth on a stray strand of thread, slowly unravelling from his wrist. "I was woken by another who wanted to use me as a tool. And then, Black Doom…." He pulled on the string now, sending a large gash into the glove. "He wanted to control my mind and my actions, literally and directly. I was horrified by all of it."

Shadow groaned, pulling the thread more and more. The frays were branching out, stray threads dangling from both ends like the seeds of a dandelion. Sonic and Shadow had run through plenty of fields with them in their day, though they were too focused on racing at the time to stop and actually watch the seeds fly in the wind. Now that he and Shadow were in this cold metal enclosure, he desperately wished he could have it back. "I don't know where they went wrong."

"Where who went wrong?"

Shadow's tone stayed muted, not looking up from his gloves. "The scientists. The Doctor. My…father. If they wanted to have an unthinking, unfeeling weapon, why did they give me a mind like mine? It's a question I've struggled with for some time." The cuff detached from the rest of the glove at this point, looking like a makeshift fabric bracelet. It didn't seem to perturb Shadow at all. "It certainly didn't end the way they intended. Except for Doctor Eggman, all of them died for that mistake. But what possible reason could they have had to make someone… something like me?" He laughed a little – a hollow, emotionless laugh. The kind that people do in order to fill empty space in sound. "When the Black Comet came, Black Doom tried to control me much in the same way that the people of this planet are being controlled now. I had been able to fight him but… but I don't know if I can do the same now. With this."

Sonic looked at him, reaching out his hand. "You can, Shadow. You can do anythi-"

Shadow felt the grazing on Sonic's fingers for less than a second before he flinched and move away. "I don't belong to anyone but me," he said. "I know this for a fact. And despite the intentions of everyone around me, I will remain myself. But that fear, Sonic? That is something you don't truly know. Not like me."

Sonic backed off. For some reason, the words stung. He was right, of course – Shadow was his own person, just like Sonic was his own person. Both of them loved each other, or so they had said before, but part of their relationship was always based on maintaining their own independence. They were fighting off a connection that lacked any kind of boundaries; it seemed appropriate. But hearing the words said aloud….

Why did it hurt so badly?

The connection that he and Shadow had wasn't about resources, or efficiency, or even about strategy. Sonic had been asked to come here and retrieve Shadow, true, but the desperation of nights alone in the caves and snow wasn't just a product of his imagination. Tails used to be around, and Rouge, and many others. So what was it about Shadow that made him like this? He certainly cared about the others, but he wouldn't say he belonged to them in the same way.

Sonic wanted to know the right words to say. He wanted to comfort Shadow, let him know just how wonderful and special he really was. He wanted to say how much he found his drive exhilarating, how much his determination made him want to push himself to be better, even that his seriousness made him stop and rethink when he desperately needed to. He wanted to say he loved his carefulness despite being so carefree himself. He wanted to say that he even loved his lack of humor, his inability to read others' intentions, his cautiousness that occasionally bordered on paranoia, his tendency to think he was the smartest person in the room, because they were all things that still made him, him. He wanted to tell him that it was true – he was 100% his own person – and that Sonic loved him for it. Every aspect, designed or not, drove Sonic to love him more. And it was precisely because of those things that Sonic worried about him, missed him, wanted to find him when he was lost.

Somewhere inside him, he realized that Shadow did belong to him, but not in the way he thought. Shadow didn't belong to Sonic like a tool or a prop, but like a partner – someone he cared for, someone he wanted to protect, someone whose well-being might as well have been his. He wanted to tell Shadow that the moments he pictured him taken by the nanites were some of the most painful of his life. He wanted to tell Shadow that the idea of losing who he was felt unbearable. He wanted to tell Shadow that he wanted to understand his thoughts, feel his feelings, know what he knew – not because of any mind meld or desire to control, but because he wanted to be the best partner for him that he could be.

Unfortunately, these were all things he knew in his heart, but couldn't find the words to articulate. Instead, he moved from next to him and sat, legs crossed, in front of Shadow. He found himself bowing his head down, a gesture that felt and looked absolutely foreign on him, and looked at the ground.

"Shadow," he said, "I'm sorry." There was more he could have said – more that he normally would have said – but something in the back of his mind told him that this was a good time to shut up and take whatever Shadow was going to give.

The red hot fury that had been in his eyes back in the museum had settled to a simmer. Still, it was clearly there, fueling the heat behind his current words, and though it hurt to see, Sonic sat and listened. "I asked you to do one thing," he said. "I asked you to keep that book safe. I trusted you."

"I know you did."

"Maybe I was wrong to do that."

"Maybe you were."

Shadow's expression wavered, probably not anticipating that answer. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish by saying that-"

"I'm not trying to accomplish anything." Sonic lifted his head, his partial eye contact becoming strong and direct. "I'm agreeing with you."

Shadow looked confused, so Sonic kept going. "I know I'm impulsive. I act before I think a lot of the time – er, most of the time. I can't help but try to be everything for everybody, and at the same time, if I could, I'd just run outside all day without listening to anyone. I'm not exactly the best confidant or secret keeper." He tilted his head, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "But you're not telling me the whole story."

Shadow stopped pulling the thread from his glove. It was a heap of string on the ground at this point anyway, but he paid it no mind. "What do you mean?"

"You asked Amy how many sets of handwriting she saw, and what it looked like. I thought that maybe you had more than one book like that, and you were trying to pick which one it was." He leaned in, like he was trying to find answers in the other's crimson eyes. "But then she said it had fallen from a helicopter, and I know you wouldn't do anything flashy like that with the nanites around. You're much too careful for that. So it had to be the one you gave to me, because I'm the only other person I know of that you gave a book like that to. Right?"

Shadow didn't answer, trying to stay stoic. Something in his eyes wavered, though. Sonic had hit on something.

"So now what I'm thinking is, you hid something in that book you gave me, and you never told me what it was." He raised his hands, a gesture of surrender that felt closer to his comfort zone than his earlier submissive stance. "Now, I know you don't really trust me. I don't blame you, if I think about it. But whatever you've got in there that you didn't tell me about? I'm starting to think it means a lot more than my apocalypse diary, or whatever. And I wish you had said something."

Shadow opened his mouth, then closed it again. His emotions were unplaceable, flitting from one to another as he sat there, dumbfounded. It was a strange sight to see – Sonic couldn't think of any time he'd been actually lost for words. Thinking over his choices, yes, but not stuck. He seemed to be processing in his head, working around an explanation. If he worked hard enough, maybe he'd come up with some set of words that made all of this clear, or better.

Too bad Sonic didn't want to wait anymore.

He stood up from his position, grabbing the pile of thread off the ground and putting it away on one of the abandoned tables. "You shouldn't litter, Shads." Sonic let himself chuckle, feeling something like his normal sunshine come back. "After all, we're going to save everyone in this base. They'll probably be running around confused for a while. Would hate for one of them to slip on this."