Chapter Text
It doesn’t matter how many times she’d been down this hallway, every time she’d think to herself that it was all so dreadfully drab. Which is something that is a surprise to say, considering where she spent the majority of her childhood. At least there, colorful lights and patterns were abundant, if forever industrial. Here? The beige-gray walls only highlight every imperfection to be seen. Dents in the walls, scratches, everything able to be spotted by her keen eyes. Surely not all military offices were like this? No, more likely, it was definitely just this section of the building, considering who she was about to see. The only thing she regretted in the upcoming performance was not wearing dress shoes. She could only make so many sacrifices today, and comfortable shoes were not one of them.
When she reaches the secretary’s desk she makes a quick observation. The young woman is a temp. Her mousey brown hair in a ponytail was different to the gray curls that had been behind the desk ever since he’d been promoted. The regular’s desk decorations, knick-knacks and family pictures were still there. With the awareness of the stress in the brows of the young woman’s face, she put on her most polite and practiced smile. One that looked genuine if you didn’t know where to look.
“Hello. I need to see Commander Tower, please.”
The secretary, whose ID badge read ‘Sara’ looks up with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry he’s not seeing anyone today.” Of course.
“Oh, that’s quite alright dear.” She didn’t have any grandchildren and she wasn’t even that old, but ever since her hair had mostly grayed she’d played the ‘old lady’ card semi-frequently. “I’m on The List .”
“The list?” Sara questions.
Oh, she really was a temp. The List was a very exclusive one that included the president, the Commander’s family, and herself. She detaches the ID card from the side of her messenger bag, and hands it over.
“Oh, um…” Sara’s eyes widen as she reads the card, “Doctor Robotnik ?”
“Or Professor, but really due to several family associations, most everyone just calls me Maria.” No matter how degrees or qualifications she had, neither Doctor or Professor seemed to work. Both held odd feelings to them anyway. The former more so, anyway, due to her cousin. So, she grins and bears 'Professor’ more often, but still it never feels like her; not truly.
“Oh-”
“Now dear, before you go panicking and call security due to a last name, type that number on the card there or scan it.” It was something that had happened once or twice in the beginning of her cousin’s…career.
“Right, sorry, ma’am- Doctor? Um-”
“Just scan the card.”
She put it in the card reader on her desk which took a few seconds long enough to be slightly annoying. Then it beeps in a tone of affirmation, and the secretary leans closer to her computer screen. “Okay. Well, I'll just call the Commander-”
She waves her off, taking the card with a light touch off of the desk. “By scanning it it sent an automatic alert to his pager.”
The secretary seemed to deflate in front of her eyes, shoulders low. Her hands anxiously rub together.
“Oh dear,” Maria’s face softens, a small smile appearing, “Don't worry; this is nothing against you- I've just known the Commander a long time and have gone through this business a few times. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”
“Ah.” She wrings her hands together before she takes a deep breath, “Alright, thank you ma’am.”
“You're doing a good job, Sara.” She says with a nod. And she was- she had no idea about the long standing history and politics of the place. She was just a young woman filling in for a seasoned worker.
To not let the conversation linger, Maria starts briskly walking down the hallway once more. It was still slightly amusing that after all this time with his promotion when he could have the pick of any office in the building, Abe chose one tucked away in a back corner. Even the nameplate on the door was underwhelming. Small and bronze, a font that would look better on tax filings. As she stands before the door, she takes a small breath. Then another. She holds it for a moment longer- and- no she didn't need her inhaler at this moment. The tightness in her chest was something else. It restricts her breathing with an undeniable anxiety. She pushes the feeling away, re-adjusts her glasses, squares her shoulders, and opens the door.
He is sitting behind his desk, nose pinched between two fingers. As she steps in, his hand lowers, and she sees Commander Abraham Tower’s striking eyes again for the first time in two years. She knows she’s personally responsible for some of the lines that have gathered there. She shuts the door behind her quietly, taking a few steps to the chair in front of the desk, leaning on the back of it. The rough fabric still has just the right amount of texture to make it satisfying to run her fingers over.
“Hello, Abe.” She says softly.
He sighs, all coming out from his nose, harsh and loud, “Hello, Maria. Have you ever considered making an appointment?”
“You wouldn’t have let me make an appointment today , anyway.”
It was funny, how the man acts as if he was the only one who lost everything. A lot of people had lost things that day. No one came out unscathed.
“No… No I suppose I wouldn’t have. Sit down, will you?” He gestures to the chair with a stiff movement, “You’re making me feel like a bad host.”
“Hm.” Maria sits, crossing her ankles, and adjusting her pack to sit by her hip, “How’s the family, by the way?”
“They’re fine. We got your cards for holidays and birthdays… though I think my wife would have appreciated it if you had just come and talked.” That was one good moment of judgement that he had made. His wife was a wonderful person and definitely easier to get along with. It was a shame that whenever this happens she has to limit interactions with her.
“We weren’t talking.” That was the whole point, when they didn’t talk. They’d done this rigmarole so many times over the years. The first time was when he had joined GUN. That argument had been explosive- her throat had been raw from yelling for the following week after.
“I’m aware.” He was as much of an instigator of the silence between them as her.
“When was the last time we talked again?” She asks, hypothetically, fully aware of when they last talked.
Abe sighs again, adjusting his uniform, “The Station Square Incident, I believe. We,” meaning GUN, that is, “contacted you to help with cleanup, and specifically research.”
“Yes, I did a lot of communication work with the archeological team in particular. An odd bunch, them.” The team did have new information on the Mystic Ruins and Angel Island, but they were also, quite frankly, a mess. She had never heard of any archeology project losing a team in the jungle , but they had. Then there was also the explorer unrelated to the team who had been in the jungle for twenty five years. After she had worked with them, she realized exactly why they had lost their funding shortly before everything went to hell.
“Your work was excellent.” Abe says flatly.
Her lip twitches in a small smile, “Yes, I agree. So, why did we fight, again?”
He frowns, briefly closing his eyes, “Must I explain?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Fine. We fought because of our discussions on how to deal with that blue hedgehog and crew.”
“They didn’t need to be dealt with. They were just kids, Abraham.” They were still kids, really. Still, over the years, the threats got bigger and bigger, and she’d had to watch as the innocence on their faces melted away with something else besides growing up.
“I understand that- I was under a lot of pressure at the time however to take some sort of action-”
She crosses her arms, but then decides against it and smooths down the front of her shirt, “I know. I just don’t want you to be a military pawn.”
“I’m not, I promised you that.” There’s a bit of hurt that is in those eyes. If she wanted to, she could take the knife and twist it further. She’s unfortunately had to over the years. It scares her sometimes, the ruthlessness that comes far too easily if she lets it.
“Alright. Alright. So then, now we come to today.” Her fingers want to stray towards her bag, to open it, but she resists. Timing is important.
As if sensing her urges, Abe’s eyes trace down to the bag at her side and narrow, “Yes, we do. I have to question what exactly is so important that has made you break the silence. Dare I say that usually it’s not something unimportant.”
“You’re right, it’s not unimportant at all, it’s very, very important in fact.” She flips open the top of the bag, the folders inside holding thick bundles of paperwork. The thousands of words, all written in legalize are unseen currently, but she swears she can hear them all the while. “You are aware of the citizen’s rights to request secret government information given enough time has passed?”
“I’m more than aware, Maria. Get to the real reason.” The tone has an order to it. She ignores it.
Maria pulls out the thick folders, placing them on her lap first, “You’re not going to be happy.”
Abraham looks like he’s ready to pinch the bridge of his nose again, “I’m already getting there at this rate.”
“Alright.” She places the stack of folders on his desk, her sleeve catching on his name plate for a single moment. Commander rings out to the world in gold. Her heart is caught in her chest. If she closes her eyes, she might just see the barrel of a gun pointed at her.
“Maria…?”
“I want my brother back, Abraham.” She taps the folders with an aggression that manages to mask the nervousness.
“Your…” He eyes the files, “Your brother- You mean Project Shadow!? How in any way is releasing him a release of information?!”
“I’ve had lawyers look over everything. This is the easiest way, unless you’d like to go to court for unjustly holding someone without trial for fifty years.”
“Wh-”
“I am going to free Shadow whether you like it or not, it just depends how much fighting you want to do.”
He stands up, walking away from his desk and towards the wall, “You’re being serious? Do you have any idea what he’s capable of? Or the aliens-”
“The aliens are eventually going to be a problem no matter what Abe, even if you'd like to deny it,” She waves it off with a huff, “But Shadow doesn’t have anything to do with them.”
He doesn’t respond, his anger going to his face making it beet red. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him this genuinely angry. That anger is only one half of the equation and the rest of it is easy to guess.
“I know you were scared of him as a kid, but that’s the thing. You were a child. You’d never met any other Mobians before, it was just humans on the ARK, of course you were scared. The aliens didn’t help either, but whether or not you were scared doesn’t mean Shadow deserves it. Shadow has been stasis this whole time. He hasn’t even had a chance to make mistakes to actually be angry at.”
She can see the way that her words are starting to break through to him, but still he keeps his mouth shut, likely so that he can think through what he says first. It gives her an opportunity to say something she hasn’t even said aloud to herself before, let alone another person.
“I want to see Shadow again before I die, Abraham.” Saying it feels almost like she's choking. It's quiet and loud all at the same time. Her inhaler is ready to be used at any time but it's not her lungs that make it hard to say. It's all emotions.
That finally gets Abraham’s anger to cool off in favor of shock. It uncurls from his shoulders as he finally turns back towards her, a question in his eyes first before he asks, “What do you mean? Isn’t your medicine working?”
“The medicine isn’t a cure-all, it’s just management. I’m lucky to have it. The fact Grandfather was able to create it from memory while imprisoned- due to data he got from Shadow, by the way, but-” Maria’s breath wavers, “The oldest person with NIDS passed away six months ago. They were sixty five. And I’m-”
“Sixty two. I’m aware. Which means that you’re…” How long has it been since he's looked so truly frightened? How long since something has broken through that military mask and made him look like broken glass?
“The oldest surviving person to have NIDS, yes. So, I don’t know how long I have left. And if you want to be selfish about it, think about it this way, maybe if Shadow is willing to when he gets out he can contribute more to research.” She doesn’t want to force him. She doesn’t even know if she really needs to live that much longer once he’s free. It would be nice, but she had never expected to live past twenty. Everything else had been a gift, living her life to the fullest with the time she had. Now she wants to give back. She wants to finally give Shadow a chance at life. Years and years of trying to figure out a way to get him out, always pushed to the background. Now, despite the thick file of legal possibilities, this is her coming to one of her last options. Asking. Just asking.
His face goes through many emotions in a short amount of time. One might describe it as the stages of grief. She's known him too long to know that it's far from it. It's analysis. It's weighing the options. It's the remnants of the boy raised by scientists.
“Alright. Alright. When do you want to go get him?”
The world freezes. Time drips like molasses. No fighting? No debates?
It all resumes with a halting breath, before she puts on a smile that is coy enough to mask everything else. “I'm free today.”