Disclaimers; Don't own them. Except Rowan... She's mine. But the rest belong to Sega! Dagnabbit!
Okay. ^__^ I'm baaack!!
Knuckles; Oh... God......
Sonic; *Nods*
Orin; Hey!! You two should be happy to see me!
Knuckles; *Deadpan* We're happy..... This is us being happy....
Orin; O__o;
Sonic; *Smirk*
Orin; *Mumbling* Ungrateful wretches.... And after all I've done for you...
Sonic; Uh-huh.... Yeah.... Torture, angst, pounding us until we're-
Knuckles; -Hardly recognizable. By our fans, or anyone else for that matter.
Sonic; Not to mention killing us off!
Knuckles; Me, you mean...
Sonic; That's what I meant.
Knuckles; Right.
Sonic; Yeah. And Orin, we're tired of it!
Orin; You know you star in this next fic, right Sonic....?
Sonic; O___o
Knuckles; Sonic...? *Waves a hand over Sonic's dazed face*
Sonic; Well.... Maybe not 'that' tired.....
Knuckles; Hey!! Traitor!!!
Orin; ^__^ So.... It's okay to go ahead then?
Sonic; Sure!
Knuckles; No!
Here's me hoping this uploads properly.... I've been having Internet troubles lately. My fics won't seem to upload at all. I'd actually given up there for a while. But I'm thinking I'll give this once last try.... *Crosses her fingers*
Latifah!! This fic is for you.
*Bows*
I'm a fan! Your fic is wonderful and I'm hooked....
You rock!
^__~
WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.
Chapter 1
Dreams End...
** ** **
Kiss of shadows. Kiss of death. Shallow life. Take my breath.
** ** **
It was snowing when he stepped outside into the dawning morning, flakes of white clinging to his eyelashes and his cheeks settling themselves on the combination of velvet fur and spines. He was tempted to stick out his tongue and capture some, a childish habit, he supposed.
He heard footsteps ahead.
Hurry....
The snow swirled up, stronger for a moment and he shielded his face against the sudden torrent as the wind shrieked, sending a howling gusting of white into his eyes. They stung, as if coated with acid, and he blinked rapidly. Another gust of wind. He saw those eyes, startling against the white, and then gone again.
Hurry... hurry!
Feeling the sudden sense of urgency, he struggled up the slope that had suddenly appeared on front of me, the landscape ahead, all around was a pure, untouched white, as were the clouds so that in the end he could not really tell where snow ended and sky began.
The wind had slowed, and all he could feel at that moment was snow falling into his eyes and spines, seeping through the fur on his torso and face.
He had read somewhere that falling snow was not truly silent, but if it made any sound then, he could not hear it.
He reached out his hand as he took the last laborious step to the top of the hill and gripped the outstretched palm offered to him. The glove against his own was white, again pure and immaculate against the blinding backdrop of fog. The hand was warm.
Alive.
Through the soft white glove he could feel the pulse, beating.
Even, steady. One. Two.
And then another gust of howling wind and their fingers were slipping apart and even as he scrabbled for a hold, the hand melted out of his grasp, like an illusion, and only the familiar voice remained.
Hurry...
Frustrated, he searched the bleakness of white surrounding him, shouted, "Where are you?"
His words bounced back at him, echoing off the unseen walls.
It was sunrise, but he could not see the sun.
** ** **
Betrayal known. Friends not seen. A lonely life. Hears my scream.
** ** **
"Where are you?" he shouted again, louder, but only the echo returned. His nose and ears were numb, as were his fingertips despite the gloves on his hands. He sank to his knees. The snow fell.
He wasn't coming...he wasn't coming back.
There were birdcalls in his ears and he looked up again to see the branches of the familiar tree spreading over him. The snow was gone, the sunlight warm on his cheeks and the air strangely heavy.
He got to his feet slowly. He was on a hill - his hill - a rocky outcrop that had a view for miles and miles.
There was no stone in front of him though. He found that strange; that the marble plaque was not there.
He used to nap there, when he was younger, under the heat of the afternoon, hiding high in the treetops where no one would think to look for him.
"I almost forgot about this place," he murmured. He had too, once. He felt, rather than heard the response.
I've never forgotten.
"I wouldn't expect you to," he returned certainly, tearing his gaze away from the tree and slowly turning in a circle. He gazed at the landscape below the hill, towards Knothole to his left - though he could not see it through the trees - the forest all around him. Robotropolis was far beyond them all, the dark buildings in stark contrast to the lush vegetation everywhere else. The airfield was beyond that again.
The grass rippled in the breeze and he heard the bell in the belltower toll once, twice, signaling the start of classes for the children of the village.
As though there was no war.
** ** **
Unknown faces. Unwanted past. Solitude. Ends at last.
** ** **
What happened here?
The voice was shocked, and he frowned. "What do you mean?"
It was then he smelled burning... but there was nothing cooking in the firepit near the tree that he used to sneak away and make his dinner in the evening, and...
What happened here?
When he whirled to face the stretch of land below once more, it was gone. He could see Knothole. The wooden browns of the painstakingly erected huts were not longer standing. Smoke filled the air, char-burned ashes of stench, and a smell of burning flesh and fur. The waters of the Great River roiled and foamed, reflecting the fires that were all that remained of the place that had been home for almost as long as he could remember.
He clenched his hands in silent agonized torment, even as his fists strained towards action, he cried.
What happened here?
He knew it for what it was. He knew what it meant then.
"I... You're... dead," he said. "I... failed. You were there."
Lightning flashed in the sky and it began to rain, but he did not move, did not run from where he stood. There was a presence next to him. He did not turn around, merely stood, arms by his sides, and looked up at the sky. The rain stung his eyes, but he did not blink.
"You were there," he said again. "I failed. I couldn't win this war. This fight."
No. No one won this fight.
He could have argued that point in a hundred different ways by point and counter point, but it had been argued already, by the Freedom Fighters and the his closest friends and the newscasters and the reporters across the world, the former Robians and the parents who had lost their children, by veterans and mourners praying over the graves of loved ones.
For years, and he was sick of the war. The robots, the missions, even if the city had burned, the madman who had created it was still out there. Plotting.
He was sick of it.
Sick of the constant fighting. When did it happen that you had to 'fight' merely to exist?
"I'm sorry I couldn't...I was weak. I..."
You're not weak. You're the strongest person I know.
He tried to smile, but he did not have the heart, merely shrugging wet shoulders. Thunder cracked in the sky overhead.
"So much...for nothing. We were gonna to change the world, remember? You and I..."
We did change the world, I think. But not in the way we planned.
"No," he echoed. "Not that way."
He felt him laugh, if illusions could laugh, if it was an illusion standing by his side looking with him into the mist and smoke that rose from the ruined village into the clouds. "Tell me something."
What's that?
He unclenched his hands, feeling the collected water run down the soaked fur and drip down his sides as it continued to rain, drops streaking down his face and neck, torso and hips, trickling down his legs into his crimson sneakers.
The rain was warm.
"In the end...was what we did...did it mean anything?"
** ** **
Not a friend. No longer a foe. By my side. He does go.
** ** **
His companion was silent, and the thunder roared again, softer now, and in the darkening sky the lightning flashed, and he could see his comrades eyes.
Violet flashing amethyst.
He closed his own eyes.
"You don't have to tell me that it didn't," he said quietly, "because I guess I already know. I guess...I've always known..."
As long as it meant something to you, came the reply. To them, to all of us, then it is enough.
And as the rain gushed down in rivulets and streams and rivers running endlessly into the Great Lake and the oceans beyond, and as the thunder cried and the mountains shook beneath their feet and the world crumbled around them and the great tree trunk split in two.
And then they fell together into the chasm.
The lightning shimmered in a beam of brilliance around them and he heard the angels singing.
And then it was dark.
The scene was a more familiar one now.
And a sense of deja-vu washed over him as he gazed around him. The earth was black and forbidding. The cold darkness of the night, the grasping blackness of the shadows, the enveloping obscurity of a tomb.
He knew this.
The earth surrounded him, high around him, enclosing him. There were no exits, he knew. There would be only one way out.
And it was always the same.
There was absolutely nothing he could do to change that fact. He was powerless. He hated that feeling more than anything else.
Sonic! Help me!
** ** **
Matched step for step. He and I. Rivals once. The marked one dies.
** ** **
The scream. The same scream. He knew it would never be screamed like that. Only in his dreams....
He turned rapidly and almost stumbled to a stunned halt at the sight. It always did this. He knew it by heart, and it always did this to him.
"Red.....?" he whispered.
His tone carried several blatant emotions, disbelief, sorrow and even hope. Though it was foolish to hope, but he did. It was his nature. His comrade met his gaze unwaveringly and nodded. Then his face twisted in a mixture of pain and fear.
He began to run.
The other rarely showed anyone fear. Even if he was feeling it. To show anxiety or discomfort was to show weakness. And the Guardian considered revealing a weakness - to anyone - as unforgivable.
So, he ran.
He ran until his feet began to burn the ground beneath him, the friction too much. And still he ran.
And yet, the Guardian grew no closer.
He knew what was coming next.
But still, he ran.
The gloved hand remained outstretched. Pleading. And, as always, for an instant, the amethyst met his own contrasting emerald.
Held...
Broke...
He screamed...
** ** **
Dance of darkness. Embrace the night. Together we. Take to flight.
** ** **
Sonic woke with a sharp cry and drew to a sitting position, panting slightly as he forced his hammering heart to slow. A trick a scarlet echidna had taught him once.....
Breathing deeply, his eyes closed for a quick minute and when they reopened, his breathing had almost resumed it's normal rate.
It did not help though.
The darkness around him told the hedgehog it was still night, and Sonic had no real desire to know what time. He would not be able to get anymore sleep that night anyway. It was always the same.
But at least the nightmares had not gotten any worse.
Less frequent now, yes. But still startlingly terrifying.
Sonic hated feeling helpless with a passion.
He frowned as he glanced at the dresser to his side. An ungloved hand reached out and idly picked up the bleached page lying there in the bright moonlight. Just a nondescript piece of paper.....A simple invitation....
It looked harmless enough. The green eyes narrowed.
Appearances were often deceiving.
** ** **
The footsteps echoed along the walls of the pristine hallway, the steps perfectly even, almost measured. It wasn't a parade ground march, but it could come close. Certainly there was purpose and authority to the steps.
And confidence too.
She tugged the uniform, pulling the long white jacket closer. Despite her training, she had yet to feel fully comfortable in a uniform, though standard procedures demanded it.
In the sterile surroundings of the hospital complex no one could ever have mistaken her for anything but a nurse. From the polish shine on her shoes to the neatness of her spines, her uniform and posture were textbook perfect.
She would allow nothing less for herself now.
Whether she was technically off duty or not.
Of course, once she got home, it would be another story entirely. Longingly, she permitted a brief thought of the bubble bath she planned to draw, accompanied by hot chocolate and a novel she had been meaning to curl up and read.
It was the most frivolous thing she'd been able to find - a sappy romance of the sort she had ignored over the last few years, whose cover hero had caught her eye because he looked ever-so-slightly like a certain emerald eyed hedgehog.....
She dismissed the thought quickly, lately her mind seemed to be turning back to him more often.
She could not allow that.
There was far too much going on in her life for past crushes to intrude.
Ten feet to freedom....
She'd been wearing the uniform for far too many hours of the day- she'd nearly forgotten what if felt like to be free of it. Not that she disliked her training. Quite the opposite in fact, she lived for it now. Healing and helping people made her feel not-quite-so-useless.....
Three feet to go....
"Nurse Amy!!... Nurse Amy Rose! Wait!"
Amy Rose halted, her hands touching the two-way doors, hesitated, then with a silent sight, turned to face the caller.
The young puppy looked up at the taller teenager with an adoring grin, then held out a bouquet of flowers.
Amy started.
"Wha-?"
The child continued to grin wildly as she pushed the flowers into the unmoving hands.
"These're from ma daddy," she explained.
Amy blushed.
"Thank you!" the child continued oblivious.
The little head bobbed and long ears flopped adoringly.
Amy couldn't resist a smile as she took the proffered bunch, shifting them slightly to get a better grip. Then, she knelt, eye to eye with the girl and tousled her hair gently.
"Thank you...." said the rose colored hedgehog, her voice very soft.
The child's grin increased abruptly and before Amy could move, she found herself gripped in an enthusiastic hug.
Blinking, she shifted the flowers yet again even as she returned the hug hesitantly.
The little girl trusted her.
All of her patients trusted her with complete impunity. Most also looked up to her. Amy couldn't help but find this strange, unaware of her appeal.
She was the fastest moving intern in the hospitals history. She had a knack for the profession that was uncanny. Even her peers admitted it. She was also the youngest nurse in training the hospital had. Yet another reason for admiration.
There was a certain vulnerability about her that drew people like a magnet. But it was tapered with a steel determination and old pain.
The whining pink hedgehog of her youth was dead.
She had died along with the many hundreds of Station Square when Perfect Chaos had flooded it two year previously.
Amy was glad she was gone. That girl was a useless, fussing, ignorant child.
Innocent.
And dead.
Amy pulled away from the puppy with a little more force than she had intended, and quickly apologized by giving the girl another quick hug. She smiled again, before rising quickly to her feet. Then she eyed the flowers in an exaggerated manner, before hugging them as well.
The girl giggled.
"Tell your dad I said thanks, okay? And I'll see you both tomorrow."
If possible the smile widened. "Sure!"
The rose colored hedgehog favored her with a wink, eliciting another giggle. Then the little girl was off and running at a breakneck speed back down the hallway. Grinning and shaking her head in disapproval, she turned and pushed open the swinging doors.
Freedom at last....
Though her job did have it's perks......
** ** **
"You're leaving then....?"
Sally looked strangely somber at Sonic's confirming nod. She withheld her sigh and watched him resume packing. His room was abnormally neat and it cast a feeling of unreality to the entire scene.
Sonic's room was not neat. It was a rule with him, he never put things 'away'; just casting them off and picking them up later. Sally thought it fitted his lifestyle quite nicely.
Scatterbrain.
But he still managed to find everything with startling precision, showing Sally another bizarre skill. She would never figure out how he could zero in on an object he wanted amid the jumble of... Junk.
At least 'she' called it junk. Sonic thought it something else entirely.
She eyed a strange looking stone piece off the side of his bed, wondering where and when he'd picked the article up.
Sonic collected things, all kinds of things. From unusual stones and shells, to pieces of memorabilia. He had a fragment of the palace walls that once stood in Mobotropolis, an old manuscript that - she presumed - must have originated from the palace library. He even possessed some tiny figurines that actually looked as though they might be worth something. Again, Sally had no idea when he'd acquired them, but then Sonic constantly went missing.
Lately more often than not.
"So.... When will you be back?" she asked softly.
An emerald eye fastened on her and he gave a slight shrug. Sally pressed her lips in disapproval. There was a time when she found it difficult to get a word in edgeways.
Now, she just wanted the 'old' Sonic back.
She wanted him back so desperately....
"Nightmare again?"
He stiffened.
Sally sighed as she watched him silently resume packing.
TO BE CONTINUED....
Where is Sonic going? Is he leaving the freedom fighters? How does Amy Rose fit into this...?
And do you care at all......?
*Sigh*
Sonic; Yeah. Just go away Orin. Leave us in peace.
Knuckles; *Glare*
Orin; What!?
Knuckles; I'm not in this, am I?
Orin; Um.....
Sonic; And you put Amy in here!? I swear.... Every time I think you can't 'possibly' get any worse... You show me new levels of cruelty.
Knuckles; *Wincing in sympathy* Yeah, Orin.... That's harsh.... Even for you.
Orin; What's wrong with Amy!? I happen to like her!
Sonic; Yeah... Birds of a feather....
Knuckles; Hm.... Peas in a pod.
Orin; ¬___¬ I'm 'not' amused. You know what happened when I grow unamused...?
Knuckles; *Looks at Sonic who shrugs*
Sonic; No.... But I'll bet you're gonna tell us anyway?
Orin; *Nodding* Uh-huh.... I write.
Knuckles; O____o
Sonic; O___O Eep......
Heh..... ^____^ This fic is the next in The Last Guardian arc..... If you guys are looking for Knuckles, don't worry.... I couldn't stop writing the echidna if I tried... And I'm not even gonna try.
Ja ne and take care!
*Huggles*
Orin.
Okay. ^__^ I'm baaack!!
Knuckles; Oh... God......
Sonic; *Nods*
Orin; Hey!! You two should be happy to see me!
Knuckles; *Deadpan* We're happy..... This is us being happy....
Orin; O__o;
Sonic; *Smirk*
Orin; *Mumbling* Ungrateful wretches.... And after all I've done for you...
Sonic; Uh-huh.... Yeah.... Torture, angst, pounding us until we're-
Knuckles; -Hardly recognizable. By our fans, or anyone else for that matter.
Sonic; Not to mention killing us off!
Knuckles; Me, you mean...
Sonic; That's what I meant.
Knuckles; Right.
Sonic; Yeah. And Orin, we're tired of it!
Orin; You know you star in this next fic, right Sonic....?
Sonic; O___o
Knuckles; Sonic...? *Waves a hand over Sonic's dazed face*
Sonic; Well.... Maybe not 'that' tired.....
Knuckles; Hey!! Traitor!!!
Orin; ^__^ So.... It's okay to go ahead then?
Sonic; Sure!
Knuckles; No!
Here's me hoping this uploads properly.... I've been having Internet troubles lately. My fics won't seem to upload at all. I'd actually given up there for a while. But I'm thinking I'll give this once last try.... *Crosses her fingers*
Latifah!! This fic is for you.
*Bows*
I'm a fan! Your fic is wonderful and I'm hooked....
You rock!
^__~
WINTERHEART- Every Scar Is A Lesson Remembered.
Chapter 1
Dreams End...
** ** **
Kiss of shadows. Kiss of death. Shallow life. Take my breath.
** ** **
It was snowing when he stepped outside into the dawning morning, flakes of white clinging to his eyelashes and his cheeks settling themselves on the combination of velvet fur and spines. He was tempted to stick out his tongue and capture some, a childish habit, he supposed.
He heard footsteps ahead.
Hurry....
The snow swirled up, stronger for a moment and he shielded his face against the sudden torrent as the wind shrieked, sending a howling gusting of white into his eyes. They stung, as if coated with acid, and he blinked rapidly. Another gust of wind. He saw those eyes, startling against the white, and then gone again.
Hurry... hurry!
Feeling the sudden sense of urgency, he struggled up the slope that had suddenly appeared on front of me, the landscape ahead, all around was a pure, untouched white, as were the clouds so that in the end he could not really tell where snow ended and sky began.
The wind had slowed, and all he could feel at that moment was snow falling into his eyes and spines, seeping through the fur on his torso and face.
He had read somewhere that falling snow was not truly silent, but if it made any sound then, he could not hear it.
He reached out his hand as he took the last laborious step to the top of the hill and gripped the outstretched palm offered to him. The glove against his own was white, again pure and immaculate against the blinding backdrop of fog. The hand was warm.
Alive.
Through the soft white glove he could feel the pulse, beating.
Even, steady. One. Two.
And then another gust of howling wind and their fingers were slipping apart and even as he scrabbled for a hold, the hand melted out of his grasp, like an illusion, and only the familiar voice remained.
Hurry...
Frustrated, he searched the bleakness of white surrounding him, shouted, "Where are you?"
His words bounced back at him, echoing off the unseen walls.
It was sunrise, but he could not see the sun.
** ** **
Betrayal known. Friends not seen. A lonely life. Hears my scream.
** ** **
"Where are you?" he shouted again, louder, but only the echo returned. His nose and ears were numb, as were his fingertips despite the gloves on his hands. He sank to his knees. The snow fell.
He wasn't coming...he wasn't coming back.
There were birdcalls in his ears and he looked up again to see the branches of the familiar tree spreading over him. The snow was gone, the sunlight warm on his cheeks and the air strangely heavy.
He got to his feet slowly. He was on a hill - his hill - a rocky outcrop that had a view for miles and miles.
There was no stone in front of him though. He found that strange; that the marble plaque was not there.
He used to nap there, when he was younger, under the heat of the afternoon, hiding high in the treetops where no one would think to look for him.
"I almost forgot about this place," he murmured. He had too, once. He felt, rather than heard the response.
I've never forgotten.
"I wouldn't expect you to," he returned certainly, tearing his gaze away from the tree and slowly turning in a circle. He gazed at the landscape below the hill, towards Knothole to his left - though he could not see it through the trees - the forest all around him. Robotropolis was far beyond them all, the dark buildings in stark contrast to the lush vegetation everywhere else. The airfield was beyond that again.
The grass rippled in the breeze and he heard the bell in the belltower toll once, twice, signaling the start of classes for the children of the village.
As though there was no war.
** ** **
Unknown faces. Unwanted past. Solitude. Ends at last.
** ** **
What happened here?
The voice was shocked, and he frowned. "What do you mean?"
It was then he smelled burning... but there was nothing cooking in the firepit near the tree that he used to sneak away and make his dinner in the evening, and...
What happened here?
When he whirled to face the stretch of land below once more, it was gone. He could see Knothole. The wooden browns of the painstakingly erected huts were not longer standing. Smoke filled the air, char-burned ashes of stench, and a smell of burning flesh and fur. The waters of the Great River roiled and foamed, reflecting the fires that were all that remained of the place that had been home for almost as long as he could remember.
He clenched his hands in silent agonized torment, even as his fists strained towards action, he cried.
What happened here?
He knew it for what it was. He knew what it meant then.
"I... You're... dead," he said. "I... failed. You were there."
Lightning flashed in the sky and it began to rain, but he did not move, did not run from where he stood. There was a presence next to him. He did not turn around, merely stood, arms by his sides, and looked up at the sky. The rain stung his eyes, but he did not blink.
"You were there," he said again. "I failed. I couldn't win this war. This fight."
No. No one won this fight.
He could have argued that point in a hundred different ways by point and counter point, but it had been argued already, by the Freedom Fighters and the his closest friends and the newscasters and the reporters across the world, the former Robians and the parents who had lost their children, by veterans and mourners praying over the graves of loved ones.
For years, and he was sick of the war. The robots, the missions, even if the city had burned, the madman who had created it was still out there. Plotting.
He was sick of it.
Sick of the constant fighting. When did it happen that you had to 'fight' merely to exist?
"I'm sorry I couldn't...I was weak. I..."
You're not weak. You're the strongest person I know.
He tried to smile, but he did not have the heart, merely shrugging wet shoulders. Thunder cracked in the sky overhead.
"So much...for nothing. We were gonna to change the world, remember? You and I..."
We did change the world, I think. But not in the way we planned.
"No," he echoed. "Not that way."
He felt him laugh, if illusions could laugh, if it was an illusion standing by his side looking with him into the mist and smoke that rose from the ruined village into the clouds. "Tell me something."
What's that?
He unclenched his hands, feeling the collected water run down the soaked fur and drip down his sides as it continued to rain, drops streaking down his face and neck, torso and hips, trickling down his legs into his crimson sneakers.
The rain was warm.
"In the end...was what we did...did it mean anything?"
** ** **
Not a friend. No longer a foe. By my side. He does go.
** ** **
His companion was silent, and the thunder roared again, softer now, and in the darkening sky the lightning flashed, and he could see his comrades eyes.
Violet flashing amethyst.
He closed his own eyes.
"You don't have to tell me that it didn't," he said quietly, "because I guess I already know. I guess...I've always known..."
As long as it meant something to you, came the reply. To them, to all of us, then it is enough.
And as the rain gushed down in rivulets and streams and rivers running endlessly into the Great Lake and the oceans beyond, and as the thunder cried and the mountains shook beneath their feet and the world crumbled around them and the great tree trunk split in two.
And then they fell together into the chasm.
The lightning shimmered in a beam of brilliance around them and he heard the angels singing.
And then it was dark.
The scene was a more familiar one now.
And a sense of deja-vu washed over him as he gazed around him. The earth was black and forbidding. The cold darkness of the night, the grasping blackness of the shadows, the enveloping obscurity of a tomb.
He knew this.
The earth surrounded him, high around him, enclosing him. There were no exits, he knew. There would be only one way out.
And it was always the same.
There was absolutely nothing he could do to change that fact. He was powerless. He hated that feeling more than anything else.
Sonic! Help me!
** ** **
Matched step for step. He and I. Rivals once. The marked one dies.
** ** **
The scream. The same scream. He knew it would never be screamed like that. Only in his dreams....
He turned rapidly and almost stumbled to a stunned halt at the sight. It always did this. He knew it by heart, and it always did this to him.
"Red.....?" he whispered.
His tone carried several blatant emotions, disbelief, sorrow and even hope. Though it was foolish to hope, but he did. It was his nature. His comrade met his gaze unwaveringly and nodded. Then his face twisted in a mixture of pain and fear.
He began to run.
The other rarely showed anyone fear. Even if he was feeling it. To show anxiety or discomfort was to show weakness. And the Guardian considered revealing a weakness - to anyone - as unforgivable.
So, he ran.
He ran until his feet began to burn the ground beneath him, the friction too much. And still he ran.
And yet, the Guardian grew no closer.
He knew what was coming next.
But still, he ran.
The gloved hand remained outstretched. Pleading. And, as always, for an instant, the amethyst met his own contrasting emerald.
Held...
Broke...
He screamed...
** ** **
Dance of darkness. Embrace the night. Together we. Take to flight.
** ** **
Sonic woke with a sharp cry and drew to a sitting position, panting slightly as he forced his hammering heart to slow. A trick a scarlet echidna had taught him once.....
Breathing deeply, his eyes closed for a quick minute and when they reopened, his breathing had almost resumed it's normal rate.
It did not help though.
The darkness around him told the hedgehog it was still night, and Sonic had no real desire to know what time. He would not be able to get anymore sleep that night anyway. It was always the same.
But at least the nightmares had not gotten any worse.
Less frequent now, yes. But still startlingly terrifying.
Sonic hated feeling helpless with a passion.
He frowned as he glanced at the dresser to his side. An ungloved hand reached out and idly picked up the bleached page lying there in the bright moonlight. Just a nondescript piece of paper.....A simple invitation....
It looked harmless enough. The green eyes narrowed.
Appearances were often deceiving.
** ** **
The footsteps echoed along the walls of the pristine hallway, the steps perfectly even, almost measured. It wasn't a parade ground march, but it could come close. Certainly there was purpose and authority to the steps.
And confidence too.
She tugged the uniform, pulling the long white jacket closer. Despite her training, she had yet to feel fully comfortable in a uniform, though standard procedures demanded it.
In the sterile surroundings of the hospital complex no one could ever have mistaken her for anything but a nurse. From the polish shine on her shoes to the neatness of her spines, her uniform and posture were textbook perfect.
She would allow nothing less for herself now.
Whether she was technically off duty or not.
Of course, once she got home, it would be another story entirely. Longingly, she permitted a brief thought of the bubble bath she planned to draw, accompanied by hot chocolate and a novel she had been meaning to curl up and read.
It was the most frivolous thing she'd been able to find - a sappy romance of the sort she had ignored over the last few years, whose cover hero had caught her eye because he looked ever-so-slightly like a certain emerald eyed hedgehog.....
She dismissed the thought quickly, lately her mind seemed to be turning back to him more often.
She could not allow that.
There was far too much going on in her life for past crushes to intrude.
Ten feet to freedom....
She'd been wearing the uniform for far too many hours of the day- she'd nearly forgotten what if felt like to be free of it. Not that she disliked her training. Quite the opposite in fact, she lived for it now. Healing and helping people made her feel not-quite-so-useless.....
Three feet to go....
"Nurse Amy!!... Nurse Amy Rose! Wait!"
Amy Rose halted, her hands touching the two-way doors, hesitated, then with a silent sight, turned to face the caller.
The young puppy looked up at the taller teenager with an adoring grin, then held out a bouquet of flowers.
Amy started.
"Wha-?"
The child continued to grin wildly as she pushed the flowers into the unmoving hands.
"These're from ma daddy," she explained.
Amy blushed.
"Thank you!" the child continued oblivious.
The little head bobbed and long ears flopped adoringly.
Amy couldn't resist a smile as she took the proffered bunch, shifting them slightly to get a better grip. Then, she knelt, eye to eye with the girl and tousled her hair gently.
"Thank you...." said the rose colored hedgehog, her voice very soft.
The child's grin increased abruptly and before Amy could move, she found herself gripped in an enthusiastic hug.
Blinking, she shifted the flowers yet again even as she returned the hug hesitantly.
The little girl trusted her.
All of her patients trusted her with complete impunity. Most also looked up to her. Amy couldn't help but find this strange, unaware of her appeal.
She was the fastest moving intern in the hospitals history. She had a knack for the profession that was uncanny. Even her peers admitted it. She was also the youngest nurse in training the hospital had. Yet another reason for admiration.
There was a certain vulnerability about her that drew people like a magnet. But it was tapered with a steel determination and old pain.
The whining pink hedgehog of her youth was dead.
She had died along with the many hundreds of Station Square when Perfect Chaos had flooded it two year previously.
Amy was glad she was gone. That girl was a useless, fussing, ignorant child.
Innocent.
And dead.
Amy pulled away from the puppy with a little more force than she had intended, and quickly apologized by giving the girl another quick hug. She smiled again, before rising quickly to her feet. Then she eyed the flowers in an exaggerated manner, before hugging them as well.
The girl giggled.
"Tell your dad I said thanks, okay? And I'll see you both tomorrow."
If possible the smile widened. "Sure!"
The rose colored hedgehog favored her with a wink, eliciting another giggle. Then the little girl was off and running at a breakneck speed back down the hallway. Grinning and shaking her head in disapproval, she turned and pushed open the swinging doors.
Freedom at last....
Though her job did have it's perks......
** ** **
"You're leaving then....?"
Sally looked strangely somber at Sonic's confirming nod. She withheld her sigh and watched him resume packing. His room was abnormally neat and it cast a feeling of unreality to the entire scene.
Sonic's room was not neat. It was a rule with him, he never put things 'away'; just casting them off and picking them up later. Sally thought it fitted his lifestyle quite nicely.
Scatterbrain.
But he still managed to find everything with startling precision, showing Sally another bizarre skill. She would never figure out how he could zero in on an object he wanted amid the jumble of... Junk.
At least 'she' called it junk. Sonic thought it something else entirely.
She eyed a strange looking stone piece off the side of his bed, wondering where and when he'd picked the article up.
Sonic collected things, all kinds of things. From unusual stones and shells, to pieces of memorabilia. He had a fragment of the palace walls that once stood in Mobotropolis, an old manuscript that - she presumed - must have originated from the palace library. He even possessed some tiny figurines that actually looked as though they might be worth something. Again, Sally had no idea when he'd acquired them, but then Sonic constantly went missing.
Lately more often than not.
"So.... When will you be back?" she asked softly.
An emerald eye fastened on her and he gave a slight shrug. Sally pressed her lips in disapproval. There was a time when she found it difficult to get a word in edgeways.
Now, she just wanted the 'old' Sonic back.
She wanted him back so desperately....
"Nightmare again?"
He stiffened.
Sally sighed as she watched him silently resume packing.
TO BE CONTINUED....
Where is Sonic going? Is he leaving the freedom fighters? How does Amy Rose fit into this...?
And do you care at all......?
*Sigh*
Sonic; Yeah. Just go away Orin. Leave us in peace.
Knuckles; *Glare*
Orin; What!?
Knuckles; I'm not in this, am I?
Orin; Um.....
Sonic; And you put Amy in here!? I swear.... Every time I think you can't 'possibly' get any worse... You show me new levels of cruelty.
Knuckles; *Wincing in sympathy* Yeah, Orin.... That's harsh.... Even for you.
Orin; What's wrong with Amy!? I happen to like her!
Sonic; Yeah... Birds of a feather....
Knuckles; Hm.... Peas in a pod.
Orin; ¬___¬ I'm 'not' amused. You know what happened when I grow unamused...?
Knuckles; *Looks at Sonic who shrugs*
Sonic; No.... But I'll bet you're gonna tell us anyway?
Orin; *Nodding* Uh-huh.... I write.
Knuckles; O____o
Sonic; O___O Eep......
Heh..... ^____^ This fic is the next in The Last Guardian arc..... If you guys are looking for Knuckles, don't worry.... I couldn't stop writing the echidna if I tried... And I'm not even gonna try.
Ja ne and take care!
*Huggles*
Orin.