Chapter 16: Tie

Seven cards. Or six. Or five. Or just any number that was more than two. Amy had never been afraid of anything she had seen on the cards, never shied away from the future they foretold. If fact, in the past, the more unusual and mystical the draw, the more excited she had been to continue. But, for the first time ever, Amy had stopped after just two cards, and found herself too afraid to draw any more. Logically, she knew that the cards before her could mean anything, and she had, so many times before, lectured others for misunderstanding the second card she had drawn: but, the fact still remained that, in all the many readings she had done over the years, she had never before drawn that one specific card, and, seeing it in her own future hit harder than she expected it to.

Steeling herself, Amy continued, drawing a third card. She hesitated after placing it, glancing back and forth between it and the first card she had drawn, finding it odd that those two cards could have been drawn so closely together. Once the moment had passed, she drew a fourth card, groaning aloud as she placed it.

"This isn't right," she muttered, turning the remaining cards in her hands over and fanning them out.

The only possible explanation for drawing three consecutive cards as she had was that the deck had not been shuffled correctly. As the ran her eyes over the fanned out cards, finding no other instances of consecutive cards, the further thought occurred to her that she had not chosen cards immediately adjacent to each other either: the cards she had chosen were the correct cards for her reading.

Amy closed the fan of cards and slammed them down onto her bed, face-down. Now that she had looked at the deck, she had, of course, ruined the reading, and the four cards she had drawn didn't exactly tell a complete story.

The Knight of Cups, Death, the Queen of Cups, the King of Cups.

Removing Death from the mix, she was left with the last three consecutive cards from the suit of Cups – something she didn't even think was possible, and yet had somehow happened. Given the curious mix, it was easy to focus solely on the three cards from the same family, easy to forget that, for the first time ever, she had drawn the Death card. The Death card was a card that people always assumed meant a literal death, and Amy had always argued that it very rarely meant exactly that: but, seeing it in her own reading about her own destiny had somehow erased all common sense and reasoning from her mind, as all she could see it as was a sign that someone in her life was going to die.

At the start of her reading, The Knight of Cups represented idealism, romance, charm and beauty. Unlike the other knights in the deck, The Knight of Cups was a calm image, an image of someone bringing love and peacefulness. A serene, pure and strong but silent character, who was kind, creative and wore his heart on his sleeve.

The next card, Death, showed a skeletal figure riding a horse – like the knight had died on his horse – and it was carrying a black flag, adorned with a white rose. In the background, in the space beneath and in front of the horse's legs, a young prince lay dead on the ground, and at his side, a woman in a beautiful dress was pleading the skeleton to save him: but the setting sun behind her and the boat drifting into the distance along the river clearly told the story that the fallen prince was gone – dead – never to return.

The Queen of Cups was, somewhat unlike the other cards at the top of the suit of Cups, a more sombre image. She was painted primarily in shades of blue and violet – of sorrow and death – and the cup she held was closed, unlike every other cup shown on any other card in the suit. The Queen of Cups represented someone who cared for and nurtured others, bringing out the best in them. A caring, empathetic individual who approached matters using their intuition and spirituality to guide them. She appeared as an indicator to trust in feelings, to be guided by the heart. She was a symbol of the inner self, reflection and contemplation, a message to the reader than their own heart and will were stronger than they gave them credit for, and they would endure the trial they faced: and the colours of her card, being the colours of sorrow and death, didn't exactly tell of an easy trial.

The King of Cups showed a kind-faced man, a symbol of mastery of emotions, of true understanding of one's innermost desires. He told the reader that they must choose calmness and balance when dealing with any sort of emotional trial, to stay true to one's own beliefs and values to find the path to happiness. The King of Cups could also, perhaps, represent a person who would guide the reader through a trial of their emotions, someone who would be calm and strong and protective.

Amy bit her lip, her eyes moving to the facedown deck of cards. She made a small growl of frustration and snatched them up, roughly shuffling them several times before fanning them out, facedown, and running one finger along the edges of each card until she felt the one that was calling to her. She slid it from the deck and, with her other hand, closed the deck and placed it facedown onto her bed once more before slowly, warily, with a shaking hand, turning over the card she had picked.

The Tower.

It was a horrific image. A tower, built in the centre of raging, wild, black waves that crashed into its base. The roof was on fire and being struck by lightning, and two figures had leapt from it to escape the flames, falling down to the angry swell of jagged black waves below.

It was hardly the card Amy had been hoping for.

The Tower represented chaos – the wild waves of the sea, the lightning, the fire – and disaster for the people depicted on the card. But the fire had 22 flames, one for each sign of the zodiac and the ten points of the Tree of Life, representing that divine intervention was on the horizon. However, the card typically meant major, unexpected (and often unwelcome) change: most commonly, the death of a loved one. The Tower had appeared to clarify the meaning of the Death card, to leave no doubt that death was in the future. It announced an air of finality, and inescapable fate, something that must be accepted and dealt with, something that could not be changed or prevented. The lightning strike denoted clarity, the end of confusion or indecision, a moment when any of the emotional fog of the previous cards would be blasted away, exposing the very heart of the matter – and the very hearts of those involved.

Five cards was enough for a reading. Amy knew she could draw more, but she feared what they might tell her next. She touched a hand to her chest, realising only then that her heart was thumping, her chest heaving. She had never had such a dark and foreboding reading from the cards, least of all one that involved exclusively cards from the suit of Cups and the two most terrible cards in the Major Arcana. She was so lost in the moment, so drowned in the quagmire of misery the cards were warning of, she let out a soft yelp and flinched at the sound of something hard knocking on her bedroom door.

"Who is it?" she called out breathlessly.

Her door opened, and, despite knowing he was the only other person in her house, she was still surprised to see Metal enter the room.

"You knocked!" she blurted out.

He nodded his head once.

"You're learning," she said, trying her best to smile.

His eyes lowered to her bed, flicking over the cards she had laid out in front of her. He then moved around the side of her bed, his feet still thumping that way they did – although when he sat down onto the edge of the bed, he was very quiet and more fluid in his movement. He pointed to the King of Cups and Amy looked at the card with wide eyes, momentarily still lost in her reading.

"Oh!" she said suddenly, as her senses returned to her. "I just thought of something – I asked you to pick another card for me, but I never picked one for you!"

Metal nodded his head once and tapped the tapered tip of one finger against the King of Cups.

"No, that's not you," Amy flatly told him. "But you are definitely more than just the Page of Cups now... Here, this is you."

Amy picked up the Knight of Cups and held it out to him. He gave her a slightly critical look before accepting it, turning it around carefully to study it.

"The Knight of Cups is a nice card," she told him, trying to detach herself from its appearance in her reading long enough to objectively explain why it was the right card for Metal. "He's someone who is calm and pure and strong: like you."

Metal's top lip lifted just enough to expose the glint of a fang.

"Okay, you're not always so calm," Amy wryly admitted. "But I feel calm when you're around. And you are a pure soul – I think you always have been – you're honest and strong, and you don't hide how you're feeling or what you're thinking."

Metal's lip lowered, but his eyes narrowed.

"Pure doesn't necessary mean "good" or "weak"," Amy added irritably.

Metal placed the card down and tapped his finger on the King of Cups.

"Why do you want that card?" Amy asked him. "You do know that card means you're even softer than the Knight of Cups, right?"

Metal raised his eyes to Amy's and pointed a finger at her.

"Because I said you could be the King of Cups one day?" she asked, as the memory of her own, younger voice speaking that exact opinion echoed around her head.

He nodded.

"Well... You're not there yet," she replied.

He sighed and let his hand fall to the bed – but it landed on something that crackled, and his head snapped around to the source of the sound. He quickly retracted his hand, curious eyes dancing around over the black plastic zip-lock bag laying over Amy's bed.

"That's my dress," Amy explained to him.

He turned to her with a slightly surprised look on his face and she smiled.

"Not literally," she said, shuffling over to slide off her bed. "The dress is inside the bag. I'll show you."

She reached over and slid the bag from the bed, and Metal watched intently as she unzipped it and slid out the dress from within.

"Ta-da!" she said, holding up the dress at her side. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Metal blinked several times, that look of childlike, unashamed curiosity brightening his face.

"I love it, but it was so expensive and it's so extravagant," Amy continued, holding the dress against herself and looking down at it. "I'll probably only ever wear it this one time, it seems silly to spend so much money on something like that."

She sighed and lifted her head, looking at Metal again. The rueful smile she had been wearing slowly wilted from her face when she saw that Metal's eyes were roaming over her, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

He met her eyes and held up one hand, raising his thumb. When he then even managed a small, soft, smile, Amy suddenly felt her face getting hot.

"So anyway that's the dress," she said hurriedly, crouching down and scooping up the bag it had been contained in. "I should keep it nice until I need it though."

She quickly and clumsily stuffed the dress back into the bag, zipping it closed and moving over to her wardrobe.

"We should get something for you to wear," she said as she tried – and missed – to hook the dress's hanger onto the clothes rail within her wardrobe. "That is, if you still want to come with me, I mean."

She finally successfully hooked the dress into place and closed the door on it.

"It's fine if you don't want to," she said. "And also it's fine if you do. I'm fine either way. It's fine."

Amy turned around and with a small yelp stumbled backwards, her back clattering into her wardrobe when she found Metal suddenly standing over her.

"If you want to... Go to the gala..." she said faintly.

He nodded once and she laughed nervously.

"Okay, so then we'll go shopping for an outfit for you!" she said, her voice suddenly louder and sharper than she wanted it to be.

She closed her eyes and let out another awkward laugh, hoping it would steady her suddenly spiked nerves: but when she opened her eyes again, she could have sworn Metal was standing closer to her.

"Tomorrow!" she said, her voice louder and sharper still. "We'll go shopping tomorrow!"

She placed both her hands on his chest and pushed him back. Despite easily being able to, he did nothing to resist, allowing her to push him all the way out the door.

"But I'm so tired now!" she lied, releasing him to stretch her arms above her head as she faked a yawn. "So tired, have to go to bed, but we'll go shopping tomorrow, I'll see you in the morning, okay bye."

She closed the door on him and sighed, inwardly cursing herself for becoming so flustered. She took a steadying breath and moved back over to her bed.

"Stupid Tails..." she grumbled under her breath and she picked up the deck of tarot cards and returned them to their box. "Making me think stupid things and making me look stupid..."

She gathered up the five cards she had drawn, fanning them out in one hand and taking one last look over the frankly quite bleak story they told before stowing them too into the box and closing the lid, returning it to its place on the shelf on her wall. She then sat onto her bed and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to still her thoughts.

But, try as she might, she couldn't push away what Tails had told her about his idea that Metal had feelings for her.

She slowly exhaled and opened her eyes, her breath halting in her lungs when she heard Metal thumping away from her door. She turned her head sharply, staring at her door in disbelief: why had he stayed out there so long? She tried to relax, but found herself listening intently for every movement: she sat and listened as Metal moved about, as he showered, as he shuffled about on the couch, as he eventually fell asleep. She sat for a long, long time, listening to the barely audible sound of his snores.

When the clock passed midnight, Amy came to the painful realisation that she would not be sleeping that night.

Amy groaned and snuggled into her bedsheets. She drew in a deep breath, readying herself to drift back to sleep. However, inhaling deeply brought the scent of that mossy shower gel into her senses, and reminded her that she was still using Metal's blanket, her own was still on the couch. This thought brought her around a little more, just enough that her ears began to tune into her surroundings. One ear was still pressed to the pillow and mainly only heard her own breathing, but her exposed ear twitched and tensed as she heard the babble of voices coming from another part of the house. It sounded like three different voices. It sounded like they were in the living room.

Amy inhaled sharply and sat bolt upright, staring suddenly wide open eyes at her bedroom door, her heart thundering in her chest, a painful jolt of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was light, and a glance at the clock told her that not only had she eventually fallen asleep the night before, but she had slept late as a result of staying up so late. She fought her way out of her bedsheets and hurriedly and quietly got dressed, smoothing her hands over her quills and hoping she didn't look as though she had just woken. She then crept to her bedroom door and quietly opened it just a crack, peering out the gap into the hallway beyond.

"Put it back," Tails said.

"I'm trying!" Rouge answered him, a little tensely.

"Just push it in there," Tails said.

"I already tried that, it doesn't want to go that way!" Rouge said.

"Maybe you should try bending it?" Cream's voice suggested.

"Won't that hurt?" Tails asked.

"How should I know?" Rouge responded.

"It really doesn't want to go down, maybe just leave it," Tails said.

"I can't leave it sticking up like that."

"Why not?"

"Do you even need to ask that?"

Amy slowly opened her door fully, straightening up and narrowing her eyes. She quietly padded, barefoot, down her hallway and into her living room, starting at the sight that greeted her there: Rouge was standing poking her fingers into a set of blue quills, with Tails on one side of her and Cream on the other. Facing them, and with his back to Amy, was what appeared to be Sonic in a dinner jacket.

"Amy!" Tails blurted out as he spotted her.

"Ah, Amy, I did you a favour," Rouge said. "Turn around, punky."

There was a short pause before the blue hedgehog turned around to face Amy, and she gasped as she found herself looking at a pair of monochromatic red eyes. Metal straightened his back and blinked at her, but his stance only made him look more awkward: it already looked as though he was holding his breath. He was dressed in a white silk shirt, a black dinner jacket, a red waistcoat and a matching red bowtie.

"He cleans up quite well, don't you think?" Rouge asked, peering around one of his arms at Amy.

"Wh-where did those clothes come from?" Amy asked her.

"I bought them for him," she replied.

"That's not true," Tails muttered.

Rouge gave him a harsh glare, but he didn't back down.

"The shirt and the jacket were Sonic's," he added.

Amy's eyebrows shot up and she turned her attention back to Metal.

"A-and you're okay wearing something that belongs to Sonic?" she asked him.

He then did something she had never seen him do before: he smiled. It was not one of those small, slight smiles she had occasionally seen him attempt, rather it was a grin, lips parted, teeth showing. She was not sure how he intended the gesture, but it looked somewhere between smug and terrifying.

"They didn't fit Sonic," Rouge added. "But your robotic friend here is built a little differently to Sonic, and they fit him just fine."

"He said he wanted a red bowtie, so I picked one up and got the waistcoat too," Tails added.

Amy heard what they were saying to her, but her eyes were still on Metal's face, still trying to accept the grin he was wearing.

"He looks so happy!" Cream said sweetly.

"That's one word for it..." Amy muttered.

Rouge moved around to stand between Amy and Metal, turning her head to look at him. She made a small noise of amusement before turning to Amy.

"I think he's enjoying the idea that he's a little bigger than Sonic," she explained.

"H-he is?" Amy echoed, tilting her head slightly.

"Huh..." Rouge said, looking suddenly surprised. "And here I thought you had every inch of Sonic committed to memory..."

"He's a little broader in the shoulders and chest," Tails explained. "He's exactly the same height though, and the rest of him is pretty much exactly the same as Sonic."

"I wanted to show you that we're behind you," Rouge said.

Amy turned to her with a frown.

"No you didn't!" Tails scoffed.

Rouge gave him a harsh look, but again, he didn't falter.

"I met you on my way over here with the waistcoat and the bowtie and you sent Cream to get the shirt and the jacket from Sonic!" he argued. "And you only did that because I was talking to the mayor's aide and she said she was hoping the maker of all those centrepieces was coming to the gala, and she hoped Amy would bring a partner! You're only doing this to promote your brand!"

"You've gotten very mouthy in your teenage years, boy," Rouge coldly answered him.

Tails finally faltered, his eyes glassing over a little as his cheeks turned pink, the colour even clearer through the white fur that covered them.

"So now you have everything you need," Rouge said, turning to Amy with a brilliant smile. "You have that stunning dress, you have a presentable partner, and now you can come to the gala and meet some of the clients I have lined up for you."

Amy shook her head and rolled her eyes, before approaching Metal.

"Do you want to go to the gala, Metal?" she asked him. "Even if it does mean dealing with Rouge trying to sell me the entire night?"

He nodded once, but with that terrifying grin still on his face, Amy barely noticed his response.

"You do look nice," she said. "Just like the bow I put on you back then..."

She touched a hand to his bowtie, lowering her eyes to it as she smoothed her fingers over it.

"Oh my goodness, seriously?" Rouge said with an exasperated sigh.

Amy looked over her shoulder and saw Rouge glaring at something over the top of her head. She turned to see what it was, flinching when she found Metal's grin suddenly vanished, his eyes wide and several of the quills on his forehead standing straight up, separate from the others.

"They just won't go down!" Rouge complained behind Amy.

"It was only one before," Cream mused.

"Uh, hey, maybe we should, um, give Metal some space?" Tails said awkwardly.

"That's fine," Rouge said with a sigh. "Amy and I have to go, anyway."

"W-we do?" Amy echoed, turning to face her friend.

"Yes, we do," Rouge plainly replied. "We have a meeting with the mayor, remember?"

Amy blinked blankly.

"I did tell you," Rouge said slowly. "Didn't I?"

"No, you didn't!" Amy wailed.

"Well, I'm telling you now," Rouge said with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"When is the meeting?"

"In about an hour."

"What?"

"At city hall."

"What?"

"If we leave now, we could still catch the bus."

"But I just woke up – I mean I'm not ready!"

"I have a comb in my purse, I'll tidy you up on the way. Take your arm candy with you – not dressed like that, obviously, that's too much, we'll look ridiculous showing up for a lunch meeting with him dressed in formal wear like that."

Amy's mouth fell open and words failed her.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Rouge said, turning to Metal. "Take your shirt off, and let's go."

Amy held up a finger, but it wilted when Rouge turned to her.

"Let's go, Amy," the bat said, before taking her leave.

Amy watched her go, all the way down the hall and out the front door, before turning her attention to Tails.

"I hope you don't mind that we're here, Amy," he said to her. "We did knock on the door. Metal let us in. He said you were still sleeping."

Amy raised her finger again.

"He said you were dreaming about a prince and a queen falling from a tower," Cream added.

Amy's finger wilted. When Metal started to remove his dinner jacket, she shook her head, attempting to physically shake herself back to reality.

"You talk in your sleep," Cream said.

"A lot, apparently," Tails muttered.

Amy opened her mouth, but again, words failed her. Metal shamelessly dropped his jacket over Tails's head, and Tails – without complaint – removed it and carefully smoothed it out, hooking it back over a hanger. Just as the fox had finished perfecting the jacket on the hanger, Metal dropped his waistcoat over Tails's head. The cycle repeated as Tails hung up the waistcoat and Metal removed his shirt. Amy's eyebrows twisted when Metal arranged his red bowtie around his bare neck, but, as Rouge shouted at her to hurry from her front door, she refocused her attention.

"I just woke up, I don't think I can face anyone," she moaned. "I must look awful."

She smoothed a hand over her quills again self-consciously, but her thoughts derailed entirely when Metal put on one of those small smiles she occasionally saw him use and mouthed out the words "you look nice", pointing at her as he said "you" and making an O-shape with his thumb and index finger as he said "nice".

"Th-thank you...?" she faintly replied.

"You better hurry if you want to catch the bus," Tails advised.

Amy turned her attention back to him.

"If Metal and I are leaving, you two can't stay here," she pointed out.

"Sorry, Amy," Cream apologised, bowing her head.

She signed something to Metal and he nodded his head at her. She then beckoned Tails to follow her and hurried towards the front door. Tails lingered back long enough to take a long look at Metal, before approaching Amy.

"Good luck," he said to her in a strange voice.

She frowned at him, but he offered no explanation for his choice of words, following after Cream. Amy shook her head and turned to Metal.

"Do you want to come with me then?" she asked him.

He nodded his head and she smiled.

"Okay, Rouge is waiting, let's go," she said.

Amy started towards the front door, where Rouge was waiting somewhat impatiently. The bat started to tell her that she needed to hurry, but her words quickly faded – along with the scenery – as Amy's feet left the ground and she found herself racing out of the village entirely.

"I didn't mean like this," she moaned.

Metal either didn't hear her or chose not to acknowledge her complaint as he continued running, holding her close to himself, his arms wrapped firmly around her back and legs.

Next Chapter: As Amy and Rouge check out city hall, Amy realises she's lost track of time and the gala is closer than she thinks. She shares a few awkward moments with Metal, all of which Sonic seems keen to exasperate and Tails is keen to quell. When Rouge tells Amy what her next project will be, she thinks it might be too much, but shortly finds offers of help from a few unexpected sources. Chapter 17: Gala