sonadow one shots (possibly more than one)

nightmares

"More tea, mr. Shadow?" She holds up a plastic tea pot, which I'm sure only has bathroom sink water in it.

A surprise, but a welcome one. I wipe my cheek and can't help but smile a bit. Without a word, because it would just feel strange to talk in this realm, I sit on the floor, cross legged, as there's no way I'm sitting in a chair that small.
She hands me a small, pink plastic cup and, of course, I take it politely and sip it. She's the one person I could gladly humor.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

I look up from my "tea" at cream. I'm almost confused, or shocked. Maybe I didn't expect her to ask me something like that, or maybe I just don't really know how to answer it.
Feel guilty? About what?
I only thought of these things, as talking in this surreal dream state would feel as if I'm talking to myself, and I can't have that.

"About the lives you've taken?"

I'm completely still now, realizing I don't have to talk. She can hear my thoughts. She... Is my thoughts... Everything in this strange place came from me, and my own questions or notions.
Do I feel guilty? It's hard to think up an answer. She's staring at me, both of us are completely still. Somehow she looks... Different now, as if parts of her have been slightly fragmented.
I'd be a monster if I didn't feel a little guilty...

Then, everything just started falling. Cream, the table, the chairs, everything had disintegrated as I fell into the void. The longer I fell the darker the things around me had gotten, until eventually everything was completely black again, and I was back where I started.
When the falling stopped I hadn't felt a force, as if I didn't hit anything solid at all, but I was on the floor again. I stood up, scratching my head in confusion as I looked around again.
What's even going on? What's the punchline? I never expected my own brain to play tricks with me like this... But I suppose I can't control everything about my body.
However I'm beginning to feel a little annoyed.

Flick

I squint, shielding my eyes with my hands as a bright white flash almost blinds me completely. My ears flicked back and I slowly took my hands away. There was a large screen in front of me with a still image in it. The subject of the photo was... Sonic. Only this wasn't a photo, at least not one I've ever seen. It was a memory. A memory I had with him.
He wasn't really doing much, just... Smiling at me.. I remember that smile. This was after he and I had gotten into a fight. It wasn't a serious fight, at least, not to me. It seemed more spontaneous in the moment, but afterwards, when we were both exhausted and covered in bruises, he turned to me and smiled.
The memory annoys me. Not because I hate him, but because I've recently been growing to... care about him... It only annoys me because a part of me is constantly just reminding me to never get close to another person ever again. But ever since I met sonic... I don't know, he finds a way to make me care.
I choose to ignore the screen, turning away to be met with another screen, with another memory.

A memory of Maria smiling at me, similar to how sonic had. I get it. I get it, okay? I see a bit of her inside of him. And I hate it.
What's the point of all this? I've already had most of these revelations in the past. I know I've taken lives, I know that I have an odd parasocial relationship with sonic, and that he often reminds me of the woman I've grown to despise remembering. So why would my brain throw these strange subliminal messages at me?
As I turn again, a large row of different memories appeared on both sides of me, creating a long pathway with memories as the walls. Tons of different memories, mostly of sonic, and maria, as if my brain is trying to tell me that these were my most prominent thoughts. Many close up memories from fights I've had with sonic, some serious, some spontaneously playful. I don't even realize I'm walking down the long pathway, admiring these odd memories. Every screen I stare at makes me feel the exact way I felt during the memory. Exhilaration, aggression, uncertainty, and sometimes enjoyment. I can't help but stare at a specific memory I had, and the split second of enjoyment I felt from it always made me sick remembering it. Me and sonic had been arguing, probably over something stupid that I don't remember, and when we had started to get physical, he pushed me against a wall, holding me there with his forearm over my neck and his knee jabbing me in the chest. He just looked so angry. I had never seen him like that, and at the time I was almost afraid of him, but the fear was subsidized by a strange growing arousal in me.
I hardly think sonic had any intentions of actually turning me on, but I still felt somehow violated.