Knuckles

"Yes!" Rouge yelled triumphantly, splashing the water up so that it hit Knuckles. "I win!" She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"You cheated," Knuckles accused, pushing his goggles up off his eyes.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Knucklehead," Rouge replied fleetingly, pulling on the strap of his goggles and letting it go so that it smacked him in the forehead (she earned a nice death glare for her trouble).

"You started before me," Knuckles pointed out.

"You have no proof whatsoever," Rouge retorted.

"Seriously, why are we even here?" Knuckles asked. "Ditching class to go swimming? That's so gay."

"Only if you're a guy and you go with another guy," Rouge replied. "But since you're with me, you're a stud. Everyone's probably thinking that we're making out in a closet or something. Or having pool sex. Whatever floats their boat."

"Except we're not," Knuckles pointed out.

"Oh, Knuckles, I had no idea that's what you wanted out of our relationship!" Rouge whisper-squealed (because getting caught in the pool when they were supposed to be in class would be all kinds of awkward). "M-My heart isn't ready!" Knuckles splashed a wave in her direction, and her face was promptly slapped with water. "That wasn't nice." And then her face was slapped with water again. "You know what? You have the romantic capacity of a teaspoon. Only a teaspoon would probably be more romantic than you are, 'cause they had to get the term 'spooning' from somewhere."

"What're you ragging me for?" Knuckles demanded. "If you wanna be all cutesy with someone, get yourself a boyfriend!"

"I haven't found someone worth my time yet."

"You're way too picky."

"It's called having standards."

"You'd suck their wallets dry."

"Not yours."

"I don't pay for your crap, so I don't count."

"All right, you rats!" a deep voice barked from a little ways away.

"Ooh, first years!" Rouge said mischievously, climbing out of the pool and pressing her nose against the wire fence, peering out into the track field. A group of thirty or so first years stood there in track suits, with a tall, broad-shoulder, silver-haired man staring down at them.

Knuckles rolled his eyes, but joined her anyway. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "We'll get caught for sure!"

"Shush!" Rouge whispered, waving her hand at him dismissively.

"You will refer to me as 'Commander,'" the silver-haired man ordered. "Or 'Sir'. Not 'Mr. Commander,' not 'Mr. Commander Sir,' not 'Commando'. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Commander Sir!" the first years shouted simultaneously. Knuckles snorted.

"What did you just call me?" the Commander demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

"Yes, sir…" the first years mumbled.

"So who d'you think's gonna get on Commando's shit list?" Rouge whispered.

Knuckles scanned the crowd of first years, stopping at a boy with electric blue hair and a carefree smirk on his face. "I'm gonna go with Blue. You?"

"My money's on Black and Red," Rouge whispered. "Next to Blue." Knuckles was almost positive that the blue-haired boy had a twin; the boy with red-streaked black hair looked way too much like him for it to be a coincidence. "Blue will probably do something stupid to get on Commando's shit list, but Black and Red will already be there by default, even if he doesn't exactly do anything wrong. Huh…"

Knuckles turned to stare at his frenemy, who was now tilting her head to the side. "What?"

"He's cute," was all Rouge said.

Knuckles scoffed. "Blue?"

"Black and Red," Rouge clarified.

"They both look exactly the same."

"No they don't. Black and Red has spikier hair, and Blue looks like a pompous little shit."

"Black and Red looks like an asshole."

"Maybe, but I doubt he really is."

Knuckles stared at her incredulously. "How could you possibly know that?"

Rouge shrugged, a wistful smile on her face. "Just a hunch, I guess."

"All right, any questions?" the Commander finished, looking up from his clipboard.

Blue raised his hand high in the air. "Why are your eyes different colors?"

"And… there he goes," Knuckle deadpanned.

"What did I tell you?" Rouge retorted.


It was a sign. That was the only possible reason that Knuckles ran into Blue again, later that day. It really was just a coincidental meeting – Blue didn't watch where he was going, ran straight into Knuckles, and dropped everything he was carrying… which, in this particular incident, was just his school bag. "What the fuck is your problem?" he practically snarled.

"Whoa there, big guy," Blue said, holding his hands up hesitantly. "Now why don't we just talk this out like nice, normal people? I'm sorry I ran into you. I don't know my own speed sometimes."

"Bullshit," Knuckles replied on impulse.

"You can't possibly know that," Blue said flatly.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hang you from the flagpole by your underwear."

"Ooh, a patriotic wedgie! Creative. Really creative."

"All right, pipsqueak, let's go."

"Hey, hold up!" The only thing that stopped Knuckles from tossing this first year over his shoulder and making good on his threat was the vaguest feeling that Blue could quite competently dominate his ass. "I think we both got off on the wrong foot here, so let's start over. Hi. I'm Sonic. What's your name?"

Knuckles resisted the urge to groan. "Knuckles."

"Nice to meet you, Knuckles," Sonic replied very nicely, before bending down to pick up something on the floor. "Hey, you dropped your wallet." But before Knuckles could snatch it away from him, the younger boy opened it and grinned. "Wow, I did not have you pegged as someone who's into older women."

"Give me that!" Knuckles yelled, swiping his wallet away and stuffing it in his back pocket.

Sonic sidestepped Knuckles's clumsy lunge, tripping him for his trouble. "Your girlfriend's kind of hot. You know, for an older woman."

"That's my grandmother, you moron."

Sonic's face paled visibly. "Oh… Uh…" He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "The resemblance is uncanny?"

"Get out of my face."

"Wait, don't be like that!" Sonic was actually tugging on his arm. Were it anyone else besides the exceedingly obnoxious first year doing so, it would have been almost cute. "I'm sorry!"

Knuckles froze as the strangest image flashed through his mind – him and Sonic, charging at each other and knocking each other backwards. Two sparkling gemstones fell from Sonic's pockets, and a strange hovering machine drifted over it, sucking the two stones into a blue light. Knuckles exhaled sharply, dispelling the image. "What do you want?"

"Uh…" Sonic answered slowly. "What I'd really like is to be able to get home. Without pissing you off, preferably."

"It's a little too late for that," Knuckles practically growled.

Sonic gulped, and, before Knuckles could register what was happening, he took off running. "Wellitwasreallynicemeetingyoubye!"

"Wh-What…?" Knuckles whispered to himself, and it occurred to him much too late that Sonic was gone. "H-Hey, wait! Get back here!"


"Knuckles? Can you please get the box on the top shelf?"

The sound of his frail grandmother's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Sure, Grandma." If there was ever any constant in his life, it was his grandmother Tikal. When his parents died in a car accident when he was seven, it was Tikal that took him in without question. When he'd get into fights during middle school, it was Tikal who would scold him, while simultaneously bandaging his wounds and not so subtly preaching that violence and greed and pride never got anyone anywhere in life. And when he started hanging out a lot more with Rouge, it was Tikal who never once questioned if the two were dating (which they were not, and never would be).

So it was an understatement that Knuckles was a little miffed when Sonic oh so casually suggested that Tikal was his girlfriend. Because honestly? Tikal deserved someone much better than Knuckles would ever be for a husband. Still, Knuckles had to concede that Sonic was just kidding around and he really didn't mean anything by it… but he had to have known to treat Tikal with only the utmost respect.

… did he? How could he have possibly known? It wasn't as if he'd ever met the old woman – Knuckles would have known if he did. But why did the idea of Sonic referring to Tikal with such disrespect, albeit indirectly, feel so wrong?

"Gah, stop it!" Knuckles chided himself. "I can't think about this anymore!"

"Can't think about what?" Knuckles dropped the cardboard box he was holding, and Tikal caught it with a smile. "Thank you, dear."

"It's nothing, Grandma," Knuckles said quietly.

"Now, now, you know as well as I do that that is the farthest from the truth," Tikal said, placing the cardboard box on the kitchen table. "You can tell me. What's on your mind?"

Knuckles pulled out a chair and plopped down unceremoniously. "Grandma… do you believe in déjà vu?"

Tikal raised her eyebrows. "Hmm?"

"I met this guy today," Knuckles elaborated. "A first year. We sort of ran into each other by accident, but…"

"You felt like you knew him from somewhere?" Tikal guessed.

"How did you know?" Knuckles asked, his eyes widening.

Tikal smiled serenely. "Well that is the definition of 'déjà vu'."

"I don't remember meeting that kid anywhere," Knuckles ranted, "but I know I've met him before." He groaned, tugging on his dreadlocks. "This doesn't make any damn sense!"

Tikal sighed and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I understand that you want answers for all these questions as soon as possible. But sometimes you just have to let the answers come to you. If you search too hard, you will run yourself to the ground, and all your efforts will have been for nothing."

"So you're saying I should just… forget about it?"

"No, don't forget about it," Tikal said quickly. "Never forget. But push it to the darkest corners of your mind. Don't dwell on it. And… talk to me, Knuckles. If it ever becomes too much to bear on your own."

Knuckles nodded, all his tension leaving with each time Tikal pat his shoulder. "Thanks, Grandma. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

He couldn't explain why such an innocuous little comment filled him with so much dread.


So this chapter was considerably less angsty than Silver's. I'm not exactly the most subtle writer ever, and you could easily compare my foreshadowing to being slapped in the face with a fish.

On a slightly unrelated note, I am having way too much fun writing this. So I really hope you're enjoying reading this more than I enjoy writing this. Please review!