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Shadow squeezed his eyes shut. "I love you too." He felt another stab of anxiety, that he shouldn't be anyone's father, shouldn't be loved or depended on. But he clung to her words and that comforting touch anyway.

Shadow winced. Even knowing what she meant, what stuck was even she says you aren't loved. It had been a while since Dave'd let himself think about romance; there was too much to be done, too many things to make up for, and even then the way Gabriel looked at him since his father took that...

Shadow pressed his head into Sombra's shoulder as he listened. "I just want her to be happy."

Shadow let out a small whine. "It's only a couple of unrequited loves," he said. "She should try. Even if they don't work out, or if they're temporary. She can't just give up, like nobody will love her again. That's not true."

Shadow wrapped his paws around Sombra and clung to her. Sometimes y'remind us of Pa, she'd said, and a horrible pit had grown in his stomach, but here she was, hugging him anyway. Maybe it was okay. "I know," he said after a while, with a heavy sigh. "Most of the people Dave loves don't love...

Shadow looked away. "That sounds like Hell," he muttered. There was a quiet pause. "I love her. I want her to be happy. I mean... Dave does." Shadow winced. "I know she means romance, but why wouldn't she find that too? She's so good. Everyone likes her. Why won't she see how good she is?"

Shadow shuddered where he stood, glowing eyes looking up at her. "What's the point of anything if you don't care about anyone?"

Shadow flinched as she suddenly spoke. "Does Brisa really want to... stop caring?" he muttered, not quite meeting her gaze.

Dave's dreams were an uneasy, muddled haze of gunshots, Mia's head exploding, the cold gaze of the man in the forest, and Shadow huddled invisibly, ears pinned, shivering, until he heard voices. It was Owen's Shadow, and... Brisa's. And they talked about Brisa, and the pain that she was in, and...

Everything about this continued to be deeply infuriating. Dave gritted his teeth. "Look, the only reason we're even talking about this is sad magic puppy over there rambling and overdramatizing shit that doesn't even mean anything. I'm fucking fine." Shadow looked back at him, timidly. He gave...

Dave gave a brief, irritated eyeroll. "Cool. If that's what he wanted to tell me, consider it received." He paused, glaring at the other Poochyena, daring him to disappear in a puff of smoke, echoing my job here is done. Predictably, he did not. Of course. Shadow had been hugging Owen for far...

As Owen pulled Shadow into a hug, Shadow returned it, clutching him tightly in his paws. And Dave... felt it, a strange indirect sensation of a warm, weighty squeeze that pulled at something in his chest. The fuck? He blinked, looking away. The tightness in his chest didn't fade. He looked back...

Dave glared at Owen, hating the hokey childish way he was talking around it, wanting to challenge him on it, but the Charmeleon wasn't looking at him, or talking to him. His heart pounded in his chest, stomach still roiling. Shadow closed his eyes at the touch, shuddering. "...Yeah."...

Shadow glanced at Dave again. "Everything just feels... bad. Sometimes less. Sometimes more." Dave rolled his eyes. "That's real specific." "Sometimes I don't really want to get out of bed in the morning. I do it anyway because the kids need me but it's a struggle." "I mean, who ever does...

Shadow hesitated. "I don't think I want anything," he said, slowly. "It's always been like this, for a really long time." Mia narrowed her eyes at him. "Is this because the other me died?" "Longer than that." Dave's eyes snapped open. "Jesus, you people. Can I have my nap or are you all just...

Shadow laid his ears flat again. "...Not really. I'm afraid we're not going to be able to stop Joule." Dave gave a frustrated sigh. "But I never really feel great." Mia cocked her head. "What does that mean?" "Wants you to throw him a fucking pity party, I guess," Dave grumbled. "Is there a...

The Shadow blinked at him. "...Me?" It looked hesitantly back at Dave, who scowled but didn't otherwise react. "...I guess you can just call me Shadow?" Well, at least it shouldn't come as a fucking surprise that his Shadow wasn't any better at names than he was.

"I mean, I came here for a fucking nap, and then you insisted on talking. So unless you want to tell me about how on earth you're four hundred fucking years old, I'm good." Dave slumped back down on the bed. The Shadow looked hopelessly at Owen, ears flat. "...He hates me." "Congratulations...

"Yeah, no, you hadn't mentioned that. I mean, I gathered you're not a kid." Mia looked pretty intrigued. "Is that normal lifespan for a Charmander in your world? In ours you would be dead." "And, uh, I mean, sure, go ahead and talk to him if you like, it'd be nice to not worry about him...

Dave raised an eyebrow. He knew Owen was older than he seemed, but fucking 400? "Yeah, again, tell him that. That time during the fight he was still going on about how I should stay away from Mia, so I'm assuming he's still on the pedophile conspiracy train."