All thoughts of job or duty were forgotten. Neither of them did anything they were supposed to do. Knuckles wandered thoughtlessly about his island, drifting through its different areas without motivation, and running as he did to get away from the scene.
Rouge was in a haze. How, exactly, she got from the island to land was a mystery, and how she traveled and moved from there was a greater mystery.
What she did know was that she ended up in Station Square.
Rouge inspected her glass carefully, softly swirling the liquid inside, before downing it in a single shot.
Her eyes drifted out of focus for a few seconds before she realigned them. Nope, she hadn't reached her goal yet.
"Bartender, another one."
The higher the percentage of alcohol in a drink, the smaller the servings it's given in. So Rouge was forced to order shot after shot to achieve her goal of drowning herself in 200-proof antidepressant. It wasn't working.
She'd arranged a small pyramid of used shot glasses. The bartender carefully took the pyramid down, flipped one of the glasses, filled it, and handed it to Rouge. She grabbed it greedily and downed it in one gulp.
No, still not there.
She was still thinking about Knuckles.
So she wasn't drunk enough.
"Can you just pour out ten or twelve?" she said to the bartender.
"Ten more and you'll go into a coma," the bartender said. "'Sides, you can only get one drink at a time, just like everyone else."
"Then gimme that one more and I'll do the other nine when I get to 'em," she said.
The bartender hesitated, but poured her drink and handed her the glass. This time Rouge merely fingered the glass, not drinking immediately.
She hated Knuckles, hated him bitterly. And now he was cursing her by refusing to allow her to think about anything else. It was infuriating, even more so given that there was nothing she could do about it.
The only thing she could try and do was to fill her brain with alcohol so that it washed all thought of Knuckles away. No luck so far.
An annoying buzzing sound was near her right ear. It must have been someone talking to her. Rouge was in no mood to deal with anyone, so she ignored it in the hopes that it would go away. It didn't; if anything, it grew more insistent. Rouge rested her cheek on her left palm, her right arm free in case this idiot tried anything stupid.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Without thought she brought her right hand up, grabbed her assailant's wrist, and twisted clockwise.
The force of the twist worked on the construction of the shoulder joint in such a way that her poor attacker was flipped over sideways.
Something was odd, though. Normally, that move also broke the person's wrist. Obviously her victim was very tough. She half-heartedly looked in his direction, some remote part of her mostly-non-functional brain curious.
It was Sonic!
She turned all the way to look at him, and there was no mistaking it—it was, indeed, the hedgehog. He was standing now and brushing himself off, saying, "I probably deserved that."
"Sonic?" Rouge asked.
"You got it." He grinned and sat down next to her. "I haven't seen you since the victory party. That's too long. So when Bob told me you were here, I came as soon as I could."
"Bob?" Rouge asked, her mind still unable to focus much.
"The bartender," Sonic said. "He and I are friends. I told him to watch out for you, Knuckles, even Eggman, and to call me up if any of you were in town. Just the usual, Bob."
Rouge tapped her glass. "Didn't know you were a lush, Sonic."
"I'm not. If I drank, people would know, and I don't want some stupid kid getting in trouble 'cause he thought it was alright if I did it. No, the only beer I drink comes from sassafras."
The bartender handed the hedgehog a drink. "Root beer float, just like always, Sonic," he said.
"Thanks, Bob." Sonic took a few slurps and a few big bites of ice cream and set the drink down. "So, whatcha been up to?"
Rouge sighed hopelessly and began to lift her drink. Sonic gently placed his hand over the top of the drink and pressed it towards the bar.
"Do you wanna go flying again?" Rouge barked.
"I think you've had enough, Rouge," Sonic said.
"Not yet," Rouge said, shaking her head. "I'm still thinking about Knuckles."
"The two of you were in a nasty fight last time you saw each other," said Sonic thoughtfully. "Three months and he's still on your mind?"
Rouge shook her head. "I was with him just yesterday."
Sonic's eyes widened comically. "Wow, you go Rouge!"
"Shut up! I hate him!" Rouge said, violently shaking her drink. Alcohol spilled along the bar. She hurriedly tried to get the glass to her lips, but it was empty by the time it got there. "Another!" she shouted.
Bob glanced at Sonic, who shook his head. The bartender went back to cleaning the many glasses Rouge had used.
"What is your problem?" Rouge bit at Sonic.
"If you really hated him," Sonic said calmly, "you wouldn't still be thinking about him, and you sure wouldn't be here."
Before her conscious mind realized it or could do anything to stop it, her face was on the bar, which only partially succeeded in concealing her sobs.
Sonic's voice was faint compared to her crying, but her bat ears caught the noise just the same. "Tell me however much you want to. I'm here to help."
She spilled it. All of it. From the moment she'd returned to the island to the moment Sonic had shown up.
"Whoa! I didn't need to know THAT!" said Sonic, waving his hands. She pushed on regardless.
When the tale was told, she disconsolately turned to Sonic. "Can I have that drink now?"
"After that story, I think *I* need a drink!" said Sonic, immediately taking a big swig of root beer.
"What I can't figure out," she said, "is why the hell I care about him in the first place." She smacked herself. "What did I just say?"
"You never said it to Knuckles, did you?" Sonic asked.
"Say what?"
"That you loved him."
Rouge slammed her glass on the bar. "Whoever said I loved him?"
"You mean, apart from you?" Sonic said. Rouge blushed fiercely. "Come on, after hearing that story I could tell."
"I wouldn't call it love," Rouge said weakly.
"Call it what you want," Sonic said. "The fact is that you need him and are terrified of him at the same time. You can't handle loving someone, just like he can't handle anyone loving him."
"How do you know anything about love?" Rouge said, furious. "Have you ever been in love?"
"No," said Sonic, "but I think that's the only reason I can think about it clearly."
"You give yourself too much credit," said Rouge. "Your arrogance approaches mine."
Sonic chuckled. "But you know," Rouge said, "knowing I love him helps, but not too much. It's one thing to know I love him, another thing to make something out of that."
"Rouge, do you know why you came to this bar? Not any bar, but this one specifically."
Rouge glanced around. "It's just any old bar, isn't it?"
Sonic shook his head. "Nope. Thanks to Bob, this is the place where we partied down after the ARK adventure."
Rouge stiffened. "I… don't remember…"
"How couldn't you remember?" Sonic said, bewildered. "This is where Knuckles and you had that massive fight."
Rouge began to shake. Sonic instinctively backed away on his stool.
A tear slid down Rouge's cheek. "I remember," she whispered. "I'd blocked it out of my memory because it was too painful… but I remember now."
Sonic suddenly turned towards the door of the bar. Rouge did the same; her ears were picking up the noise of several GUN robots, approaching quickly. "Whaddya suppose they want?" Sonic said rudely.
"Me," said Rouge. "I was supposed to link up with GUN agents… I guess hours ago. I didn't show, so they're gonna try and arrest me now."
She rose from her stool, her eyes shining with fury. "If it were any time but now, I might would go with them. But right now, I know what I have to do with my life, and they're in my way!"
"Rouge," said Sonic, putting a hand on her shoulder, "you're drunk. It's not safe."
Rouge held out an arm. She held it perfectly steady, neither waving nor shaking. "I'm a spy sometimes. Being able to hold my liquor is important. I'm okay."
"I'm impressed," Sonic said, "but you're still drunk. It's too dangerous for you to try and fight 'em now. I wouldn't be able to face Knux if I let you get yourself killed."
"Then what do you propose?" Rouge said.
"I'll distract the bot-heads. Bob'll show you the back way out of here. Once you're clear, head for the train station. Take a train to the Mystic Ruins. At that stop, there's a workshop. That's Tails' and my place. Just tell him I sent you and he'll take you wherever you need to go."
Rouge smirked. "You're a good friend to have," she said.
"I owe Knux a few favors, so don't sweat it. Now move! And if you or Knuckles are ever in Station Square again, be sure to look me up."
"I'll remember that. Thanks again."
"Bob? Show her out."
Rouge followed the bartender. She faintly heard Sonic begin his 'distraction'—sounds of crunching metal and joyous laughter followed her out of the bar.
Yes, one could have worse friends than Sonic Hedgehog.
Like, for example, Knuckles Echidna.
Come on. If he was such a bad friend, why was she so frantic to get back to him?
Because, good friend or bad, she needed him. The part of her whose existence she'd always denied was finally awake.
Her entire life seemed so empty now, so pointless. Stealing things, collecting jewels, amassing wealth… what was the point? She'd long since passed the fortune where she could live comfortably and without effort. But she kept going.
Her life had been devoid of anyone to care for, so she transmuted her desire for companionship into her lust for jewels. All her fervent desire for the company of others was channeled into fetishizing jewelry. The greater the lack of people, the more intense the passion for jewels, which was why that passion had become so irresistible.
She had glutted herself with jewels to fill the hole within herself, and it had worked for a time. But the more jewels she had, the more it took to bring her any pleasure. She pulled off bigger and bigger heists of more and more precious gemstones, and still the void in her increased.
She began to rely on the challenge of the job for the purpose of her existence. But that led to her accepting the most dangerous jobs, and even like that she fell prey to diminishing returns.
That was also why she'd accepted job after job, even overbooking and choosing between jobs. The more time she spent working, the more time she was thinking about her jobs, and the less time she could think dangerous thoughts about herself.
It seemed so obvious now! Why had she never seen it before?
Because she needed another person to help her, to destroy the façade she lived in and let her see what was worthwhile. She needed a person who could resist her beauty, match her domineering personality, and withstand her viciousness. She needed a person who could see her various personas for the farces they were, and who actually gave a thought to the person beneath.
In short, she needed Knuckles.
TO BE CONTINUED…