Her tear ducts ached.
To have gone through such a long period of disuse, then such a sudden and brutal outpouring… it was only natural.
Compared to the other pains she felt now, it was a minor one.
Her clothes were soaked through, and she was caked in mud. She noted this only half-heartedly, unable to pay too much attention to it. She sat up against a tree, using it for support. She couldn't summon the energy to sit upright without help.
'I can't go on like this.'
A surge of anger at Knuckles coursed through her. How could he have hurt her so? That echidna, she hated him!
He hurt me! He… he struck my heart… he hit my emotions in a way I never thought possible…
The anger dissipated as she thought about it. Well, how could he have hurt her? The only way was if there was some opening in her, some weakness to attack. She'd fooled herself all this time into thinking herself invincible while her weakness festered.
What weakness was it?
Come now. It was obvious.
Just as Knuckles was lonely, in much the same way, she was lonely.
That was why she'd been so adept at tearing him down; her attacks were fueled with empathy. The same problems and forces that worked on him worked on her, as well.
'Why didn't I know this?'
Throughout her life, Rouge had wandered, a solitary figure. Other people came and went, minor players in the drama that was her life, but they didn't affect her core; they were expendable. She learned from them, used them, and then got rid of them when they lost their value.
Attachment, belonging—those were things she associated with weakness, and had purged them from her system. So she, like Knuckles, began to see her isolation as a gift rather than a curse.
Was it a curse after all?
Even now, she could find no reason why she should be dependant upon anyone. But the words Knuckles had spoken had affected her so viscerally, there must have been something to them. Whether she knew why or not, she had to have some sort of association.
She shook as she thought of his words—even thinking about them was chilling to the core. Now that she'd been exposed to the reality of her loneliness, she would never be able to flee from it again.
Forming some limited interactions and bonds would be a lesser flaw than to continue like this, if she was careful about it.
There might be something good about it, too. When but in Knuckles' company had she ever felt that content-tingle? She'd felt emotions since coming here that she'd never felt before—or at least, not in a very long time. Certainly she would at least escape the terrible pain she felt now.
A sudden fear seized her, chilled her spine. But what about him?
She had just broken him, hurt him horribly! There was no telling if he'd ever speak to her again!
Rather than recriminate herself, she felt cold terror at the thought. Given how much she'd hurt him, there was the distinct possibility that she'd created an impassible rift between them. How could they interact with so much pain and ill will between them?
Deep inside, another part of her wailed with guilt. Not to mention that simply harming him so had been atrocious! She realized now that she'd empathized with him as she'd hurt him; the resistance she'd felt to hurting him more and more wasn't just from that empathy, it was from reluctance and guilt to be tearing at him.
'Does he matter to me as more than just a way to relieve my loneliness? Well, he should. I felt outraged that I would have the same role for him, why shouldn't he? But that's not the question! The question is, Does he?'
All of that was moot, of course, if she'd been so effective as to end their relationship permanently. It was a terrifying thought.
'I can't be alone again! Not anymore! Not when I've finally admitted that it's wrong!'
It was amazing to her how quickly she'd changed. Early this morning, if she'd been told that she would find the thought of being alone horrifying, she would have laughed. In a matter of hours she'd become totally dependent upon the companionship of another person.
Which, she thought with bitter irony, was what I was trying to induce in Knuckles.
When she considered it, though, it wasn't so sudden; only the realization was sudden. The need had always been there, it was only now that her mind was catching up.
With new strength, she got to her feet with a mind to hurry to Knuckles. As she rose, though, he appeared in front of her.
Her courage and resolve fled. She could see the pain in his eyes, could feel it emanating from his body.
'Am I too late? Will I be alone?' The thoughts raced through her mind; her heart seized up in fear.
"Rouge," he said.
"Yes?" she asked, barely audible.
"I want… I…" he was having trouble speaking. It strung out Rouge's agony at waiting. She had to know!
"I want you to… to leave the island," he said.
Her blood froze.
He was rejecting her.
"I c-can't… you've hurt… it's not safe for you to… the Emerald… I…"
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He rocked back on his heels. "W-what was that?"
"I'm sorry," she repeated, desperate. With all her heart and soul, she wished it to be true.
She was sorry for what she had done—she'd never do anything like that again—she was begging for his forgiveness!
He was boggled. "I don't… I…" He had expected her to be callous, to hurt him more as she left—the sincerity of her apology caught him totally off-guard.
"I… why'd you do it?" he managed.
She gave a weak, wry half-smile. "I wanted to make it so you wouldn't leave me," she said lamely.
He shook his head. "Me, leave you? Rouge, that was never the issue."
"What?" Did she dare hope?
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "The question was when you'd leave me."
Her heart leapt up and hammered against her sternum. Was it possible? She gathered up every last reserve of courage and pushed out one sentence.
"Then… may I stay?"
He hesitated, once again throwing Rouge into agony. 'Please, oh please, please…'
"Yeah," he said at last. "Yeah, you can stay."
For all of that build-up, Rouge expected she would explode when she got her answer. Instead she could barely keep herself standing. "Thank you," was all she could say.
"You're welcome," he said. They both smiled, relishing the double meaning, and stood in rocky silence for several long seconds.
She couldn't stand this much longer. She gathered her wits and tried to pretend that everything was fine. "Good. Now that that's settled… I… I look awful, so I'm going to check the lake's temperature. Don't you dare peek on me."
"Don't worry about it," he said, semi-smiling. "Apparently there will be more opportunities in the future."
"Get your mind out of the gutter before it rots," she said, and quickly hurried off. She gave a deep sigh of relief as she slowed down.
Although she'd left him behind, she knew she was not alone.
So far, her association with him had brought her grief, pain, uncertainty, dependence, and weakness.
And still she felt more alive today then on any day before.
TO BE CONTINUED…