Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Never Got to Hear Him Play

Chapter 14.

A/N: Unfortunately, this is the last chapter of this story. I'll be posting a positive epilogue and a negative epilogue sometime in the (hopefully) near future but other than that this story is finished. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and enjoying it.

A/N #2: I have another MANOURGE story rattling around in my head so I'm including a small preview for it. Please let me know what you think about it.

Manic always looked back at the last time he saw Scourge and wondered if there were any signs he had missed.

Manic stepped into the alley behind The Thieves Guild and let the rusted door swing shut behind him. Two emotions were waging war in the middle of his chest. The first was exhilarating happiness. He and his siblings band, The Sonic Underground, had just played their first gig ever (a paying gig no less!) and it had gone off without a hitch. The audience had loved it, putting to rest Manic's worries that their pop-punk sound would turn people off.

The second emotion was disappointment. Manic had spent the entire show sweeping the audience with his eyes looking for familiar green fur. Scourge had promised that he would show up but…he hadn't. Manic knew that the other teen didn't have anything to do today so his absence hurt even more.

"What an asshole." Manic muttered. He leaned back against the wall, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and put one of the cancer sticks between his lips. Smoking, along with sailor-like fluency in obscene language, was a bad habit he had picked up from Scourge.

'That dickhead probably dropped acid and wandered into the fucking sunset again.' Manic shook his head bitterly and blew out a series of smoke rings.

"Manic! There you are!"

Manic looked towards the mouth of the alley in shock and felt his jaw drop. "What the fuck happened to you!"

Scourge was a mess. His fur was disheveled and matted with dried blood. Cuts, ranging in size from miniscule to worrying, littered his entire body. They looked fresh although they had stopped bleeding.

Scourge scowled and walked over to Manic. "I ran my dumbass mouth and got thrown through a fuckin' window."

"Holy hell, are you okay? Do I need to take you to a hospital? I think you need to see a doctor! Here I'll get the va—"

"Shut up and calm down." Scourge offset his harsh words by putting a comforting hand on Manic's shoulder, "None of these are that deep, they just look ugly."

"Don't tell me to calm down. I'm taking you to a hospital."

"No, you're not." Scourge said firmly.

Manic opened his mouth to protest but Scourge kept talking, speaking over anything he could have said.

"Sorry I wasn't able to see you gig. I showed up but uh…" he chuckled ruefully and gesturing at his battered countenance, "they wouldn't let me in looking like this."

"That's not important right now," Manic said quickly. His earlier anger had been replaced by guilt. How could he have thought that Scourge would just bail on him? "Really I think you need to go to a doct—"

Scourge cut him off "It is important though. I still haven't got to hear you play and I know you really wanted me here. I feel like a dick for missing it."

"We're playing another show here in a couple days; you can just come to that one."

Scourge smiled, "Sounds like a plan then."

Manic thought it was a sad smile but didn't say anything.

The two hung out for several more hours (during which time Manic was unable to convince his friend to go to a doctor) and then Scourge went home.

Manic hasn't seen him since.