A rather less light-hearted fic from me this time. It's extremely far-fetched and bizarre... but there is a message in there. At least, I think there is.
It's rated PG for mild swearing... but only VERY mild swearing. We're talking Harry Potter bad language here.
Disclaimer: Rouge the Bat and all characters and settings related to the Sonic franchise are copyright Sega Corporation.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter One - The Visit.
Rouge pulled the bag over her shoulder and sighed, noticing an aggressive dark cloud looming on the horizon. It wasn't too far to walk and she doesn't normally mind rain anyway, but part of her was looking for any excuse to call the reception and cancel the visit altogether. Only yesterday she had received a telephone call from a hospital informing her that an inmate had expressed a wish to see her. That's all. No names, no reasons. They just said it was an old man who wanted to speak to the bat about something in person, and that it 'sounded important'.
She was anxious as to what this was all about, and her sceptical nature told her to be on her guard. Then again, however, the only reason she'd really agreed to go was because she was curious. It might be interesting, you never know... perhaps some old codger who happened to be distantly related to her wanted to hand over his life savings on his deathbed. Now, that would make the walk work it. There was still that doubt, though, still that suspicion that this was all an elaborate trick of some sort.
Nothing that bad could happen, I suppose, Rouge thought, it's a hospital, for crying out loud.
The first spit of rain landed delicately on Rouge's nose, so she quickened her pace. She wished she could have flown for the whole journey, but beating those small wings to keep herself in the air tended to tire her somewhat. Besides, it probably wasn't the best idea in these conditions. A medium fog hung in the air, such that all Rouge could see off in the far distance were the beautiful penetrative lights lining the motorways accompanied by the darting specks of headlights from the trucks and cars that were travelling during the night.
Very little had happened to Rouge since the incident on board the ARK. Unlike Sonic and Tails, who thrived on the media attention and hero worship they had received, she had very much stayed out of the public eye. Aside from a few interviews on television, she had not been approached by many reporters, and that suited her fine. After all, she really wasn't sure how to feel about the whole thing, since it was different to anything she'd ever been a part of before. For the others it was different... the times when she'd visited Knuckles on Angel Island and spoken to Eggman on the phone (he had apparently decided to contact her out of sheer boredom), they seemed to hardly mention the whole affair, and when they did it was in a very casual and offhand manner. It was as though, for them, it was just another little adventure to add to the list. Rouge... she couldn't stop thinking about it. She was not experiencing trauma or any anxiety over it; it had just made her think about things differently.
Rouge squinted her eyes and watched the shape of the hospital appear through the mist of fog and now-strong rain. It was a large and modern-looking building, with a delightful array of flowers, bushes and trees adorning the two parallel gardens leading up to the large entrance. Rouge wondered why it was in such an odd place-- she had no idea the institution even existed until the telephone conversation yesterday. All that surround the area was streaming motorways and large, untouched fields. The few structures that were plastered around the landscape were mainly heavily industrial factories and refineries, along with the occasional motorway service station.
The white bat pulled the rucksack further up her back and set off running towards the entrance. Nobody else appeared to be around, and all Rouge could hear was the rapid splashing of her own footsteps on the wet ground, her own gentle panting, and the rustling of leaves as rain tore through the trees either side of her.
She shook herself off in a vain attempt to dry her sodden fur as she approached the large revolving doors leading into the lobby. The brilliantly polished clear glass doors reflected the hospital's lights onto the ground, creating a delightful kaleidoscope effect as they rotated. Once inside, Rouge wiped some of the rain off her face and approached the reception.
"Hello," she said to the old, grey-haired, spectacled woman sitting at the desk, "I'm here for an appointment... to visit one of the patients, I mean."
The woman's head snapped up instantly, and her face blushed a deep red. "Oh, Ms. Rouge! Yes, I know about the visit, oh, would you like me to tell you where the room is now, or would you like to dry up in the bathroom first? Oh, and it's wonderful to meet you." The old woman extended her hand awkwardly, and the few patches of skin on her face that had not already submitted to the blushing promptly did so.
"Well, thanks very much!" Rouge replied, shaking the woman's hand and beaming brightly, "But before I go to meet this guy, do you think you could tell me who it is now?"
"Oh dear, we would have done so over the phone if we could, but we have no idea who he is ourselves." The old lady stopped to push her glasses back up her nose, "it was a man who was found and brought here, oh, ten years ago, maybe more. He had been living rough... or at least, that's all our psychiatrist could deduce. We couldn't find any indication of his identity on his person or around the place he was found, and he was sort of suffering amnesia."
"'Sort of'?" Rouge replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, it was clear he couldn't remember who he was nor what he had been doing, but it also seemed as if he didn't want to remember. He just didn't seem to care, as if it were of no consequence, you know what I mean? The doctors guessed it might have been some past trauma. Wouldn't surprise me-- he was in a terrible state when he was brought here, you know. As well as suffering from pneumonia, the poor man had just lost his mind. He was unenthusiastic, unresponsive... it was like he wasn't really a part of this world, like he was just observing everything, but not actively taking part in it."
"So how did he know me?" Rouge asked.
"It was that day... when you saved us all," the woman blushed again, "all the televisions in the building were showing the news reports, and all the patients were watching. It was amazing, Rouge, the atmosphere. Everyone smiled and hugged... even those who knew they weren't going to be around for long... even they had a reason to be happy. But him... of course, he was impartial to it all. He watched the reports in silence. But then, after an interview with you, he pointed at the screen and said 'I need to see her'. Of course, initially the doctors said it was impossible, but he insisted, saying it was very important that he told you something before he died. I don't know, maybe it was silly to contact you-- chances are it's just an invention of his delusional mind. But, I don't know... it was the only thing he had ever seemed to have the least bit of interest for, you know?"
"I understand," Rouge replied, "I think I'll make my way there now."
"It's room 36 on the third level," the receptionist informed, "oh, but you don't have to go if you don't want to."
"Leave, now? After you've intrigued me?" Rouge grinned, "nah, I'd like to visit him, whether he has truly anything specific or helpful to say to me or not. Thanks for your help."
"No, thank you!" the woman cried one last time as the white bat strolled in the direction of the lift.
The shiny chrome elevator took her to the third floor swiftly, and she stepped out into a large, brightly lit corridor. Rouge really wasn't sure whether she liked this place or not. On one hand, it was immaculately clean and pleasant to look at, but on the other, it just seemed so lifeless. Aside from a few doctors working at desks in pokey offices lined with filing cabinets, there seemed to be so few people around. She had been told over the phone that this hospital was primarily for patients who needed constant care, so many of them were stuck here. Incarcerated, as it were, in this huge labyrinthine hospital.
It's nice, Rouge thought, but I wouldn't want to live here. She grinned slightly, and followed a sign that lead off into one of the many passages that branched off the wide corridor. At the very end, tucked away in a corner, she found room 36.
She knocked awkwardly on the solid white windowless door.
"Please come in," a course, raspy voice uttered.
Holding her bag in one hand and breathing in a lungful of the cold, sterilised hospital air, she slowly opened the door and stepped into the room.
As soon as she saw the cracked, withered face in front of her, she dropped the bag and stared with her mouth wide open. Oh, she knew who he was, but she didn't believe it. In a stable state of mind, she would've guessed this must be an illusion, as part of someone's sick, twisted idea of a joke.
"No!" she exclaimed, "You're dead! We all saw you die! You're dead!"
The man glanced upwards and looked the bat girl straight in the eyes.
"Please, let me explain everything," Professor Gerald Robotnik replied.