CHAPTER 10: Confessions

With a big yawn, Rouge sat up in bed wearing a pink night gown. It was only 5 a.m., but she was ready to start the day. Her plan for today was simple: find the Master Emerald and bring it home to put on display. She thought she had a good idea where it was, but she had this funny feeling she'd been there before. Why, though? She'd remember if she had, right? And what was this dream she'd had for the past two nights about a soft, green glow with a black figure in her way?

"Weird dream," she said in an indifferent voice. She gave a quick kick and was standing at the edge of her bed within two seconds, headed toward the bathroom. After having herself a quick pee, Rouge pulled open her dresser drawers and pulled out her attire for the day, at least until night fell: her clothes consisted of a pink tank top, pink sweatpants, and white sneakers. She dressed quickly and walked to the window in her bedroom. The bare windowsill, small as it was, made for a great place to sit and think late into the night. Blinking a few times to help her eyes focus a bit more, Rouge pushed open the window and jumped out, using her wings to glide silently through the air. She had two words going through her mind: Angel Island. When she'd woken up, from her odd dream, the black figure had mentioned Angel Island. She couldn't figure out why, though. She couldn't recognize the silhouette that had told her where to go, and the voice was too deep to be anyone she knew. Pushing it from her mind, she directed herself to a nearby 24-hour cafe named the All-Nighter, being a bit on the hungry side. She'd been sleeping most of the past few days; for some reason she'd been unusually tired and woke up no better off than she'd been when she dozed off. Upon her arrival at the cafe, she sat down at the bar and, when the waitress took her order, asked for bacon and eggs. It took her a few seconds to remember, she didn't even LIKE bacon and eggs. Or did she? She couldn't remember. Something had obviously screwed up her memory. She decided, as soon as they opened their offices, she'd go to a doctor. For now, nothing else to do but eat. About fifteen minutes later, the waitress came back with Rouge's food.

"There you go," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," Rouge replied. She took a few bites: no complaints, so she guessed she had liked bacon and eggs before her memory had been screwed up. She thought, Least I didn't pick something I hate. Wonder why I can't remember anything. I hope I don't have to put off my plans for whatever it is.

Not five minutes after he opened his office, Dr. Briggs, who STRONGLY resembled Bruce Willis, heard someone walk into his office. He'd just gotten things ready to start the day, so he took a second to think that this would be a busy day before going to see who it was. He came out behind the desk to talk to the potential patient, and got a quick glimpse at her: a slightly tired-looking, white-faced bat, probably in her 20s, wearing a lot of pink. As he approached the desk, he smiled and gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

"Good morning Miss," he said in a pleasant tone. "Please, have a seat." He sat down himself as Rouge did, and Briggs spoke again. "You came in a little early, I had just finished getting things ready in the back. Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I don't," Rouge replied. "Least, I don't think I do. For some reason I can't seem to remember a lot of things. I can't remember what I was doing a few nights ago, I've been sleeping a lot since then, and this morning, I couldn't even remember if I liked bacon and eggs!"

"Hm," Dr. Briggs said as he rubbed his chin with his left hand. "Sounds like someone got to you with a bottle of Omikron 3AR5. It's a powerful inhalant that leaves the victim very tired for about a week afterward, and while the victim sleeps, he or she begins to forget things. What things he or she forgets are completely random, so the one administering it is taking a bit of a chance with it. Whatever the person wanted you to forget, he or she may have gotten unlucky and you might not have forgotten the right pieces of information, in which case another dose would have been necessary for whatever they had in mind. Problem is, repeated doses can lead to permanent memory loss and even insanity." Rouge's eyes widened slightly.

"Is there any way to reverse it?" she asked. Briggs shook his head.

"It was only developed in the past 5 years," he said grimly. "If there is a cure, it hasn't been discovered yet. The only way to reverse the effects is to wait until they pass, then learn everything you forgot all over again. But, if you can manage to stay awake until the effects pass, the damage won't be as bad. This is because the drug works most actively when the body is resting."

"Oh," Rouge said, her spirits slightly sunken. Suddenly, she had a thought. "Wait, how can you be so sure? How do you know I haven't just hit my head or something?"

"Because when you hit your head, you generally don't drift in and out of sleep and forget only selective tidbits of information," Briggs told her. "Plus, you don't have a mark on you, besides looking a little tired."

"Oh."

After thanking Briggs and leaving his office(he hadn't charged her since she just asked him a couple questions), Rouge took a cab to the local grocery store, since she didn't much feel like walking. As she climbed into the cab and mumbled the destination to the driver, she leaned her head back and closed her tired eyes. Incredible, she thought. I've been sleeping all this time and I'm still tired, and I'm steadily losing my memory to boot! Why though? Who would give me that stuff? And why? Not even realizing it, Rouge drifted off to sleep...

"Rouge... Rouuuuuuuuge..." a deep, misty voice called. Rouge opened her eyes, in the middle of a large stone temple. In front of her was a black figure bathed in green light from a large object behind it; Rouge recognized it as the Master Emerald. The figure held its ground as Rouge stood up.

"Who are you?" she yelled. "Why do you keep showing up in my head? And where IS this anyway!?"

"I am the one who took your memories," the figure said in its misty voice. "I'm not showing up of my own accord... Perhaps your psyche is linked with mine at a certain level deep in the subconscious. As for where this is, that is the one thing I will not reveal to you, as it is the reason I took your memory."

"Wait," Rouge had a sudden thought. "You're that echidna, aren't you!?"

"You got me," the figure said with a chuckle. It snapped its fingers and lights came on around them: it was indeed Knuckles, not wearing anything this time, since his dream self was apparently as anatomically impared as a kendall.

"Why'd you screw my memory up!?" Rouge snapped. Knuckels closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly.

"I really didn't want to," he said. "I HAD to. I'm supposed to protect the Master Emerald at all costs. You nearly reached it. I had to wipe your memory. It was a calculated risk, of course, and I was reluctant to take it."

"Why?" Rouge was puzzled slightly. She was always being a nuisance to him, so why would he be reluctant to keep her from her goal?

"Because... I like you," Knuckles managed to say. Rouge was at a loss for words for just a moment, then decided to ask something she probably should've asked a moment before.

"Wait a second, how could our psyche's be linked, if that what this is?" she demanded. Knuckles shrugged.

"Couldn't tell you," he said. "I haven't the foggiest. Could've been from being so close to the Master Emerald at the same time, could've just been coincidence. So, it doesn't shock you that I just admitted to liking you?"

"Actually it did," Rouge admitted. "I just changed the subject until I could find something to say back. I guess, aside from you totally screwing up my memory, I guess I like you too."

"Miss! Wake up!" Rouge snapped awake. The black cat who'd been driving the cab was turned around and staring at her.

"Huh, what?" Rouge was a little disoriented at first, but then she remembered where she was.

"We're here," the cabbie said. "That'll be 32 credits." Rouge paid the cabbie and got out of the cab. It took her a moment to remember what she was doing here, but then she remembered: coffee. And lots of it.

Man, THAT dream was completely creep,. she thought on the way across the parking lot. Was it really a psychic connection or something?

Okay, shorter chapter, I know. Freakish though. Lost memories, psychic links, a doctor who looks like Bruce Willis. Freakish-wait, I already said that. I admit, I had a bit of trouble thinking of what to put in this chapter. Bit weird circumstances to be admitting you like someone, huh? R&R please.