A/n: No copyright infringement intended.

History Repeating

With eyes filled with tears and her hands covering her ears, Cream hid underneath Knuckles' dining table. Tails sat with her beneath the cheaply made wooden structure. He looked at her, unable to keep focus on her image, but he tried.

"Tails, I want to go home." Cream whispered. Miles looked at Cream as she covered her eyes. He frowned. He knew that it wasn't a good idea to bring her. He remembered how uncomfortable it was for him to be around his drunk friends while sober. There's a feeling of duty that one has, but the kind that one doesn't want. It stopped feeling like friendship. It felt more like obligation. Now, he had become her burden. How could he allow that to happen?

"I'm sorry hun." He said softly. He touched her hand and she looked at him with that were eyes filled with disappointment.

"I don't like seeing you like this. Anyone. Everyone is so drunk. They won't stop fighting. Make them stop." She asked.

"I wish I could."

Sonic turned over the coffee table upon seeing Shadow touch Amy's knee. In his drunken state, rage had got the best of him. The remaining alcohol crashed onto the floor. The glass from the tumblers and bottles had slightly cut Amy's exposed legs. As Shadow jumped up and pushed Sonic, Knuckles had stepped between the two, holding them off with his arms. Rouge grabbed Amy and ran into the bathroom.

Amy was startled. She didn't make eye contact with Rouge as the older woman searched the sink cabinet for the first aid kit. "Think that was wise?" Rouge asked her.

"Of course it wasn't."

"Then why did you let him do it?"

"I didn't think Sonic would get so mad."

"You're a touchy subject for him. You know that." Rouge could only find hydrogen peroxide and a single band aid. She closed the cabinet and grabbed-tips from the medicine cabinet. She dipped one into the bottle of peroxide and kneeled to Amy who sat on the edge of the tub. Without warning she put it on the cut.

"Ow!" Amy winced.

"It stings, right?"

"Or course it does!" She yelled.

"That's how you make Sonic feel." Amy looked away. Her cheeks were red from embarrassment and frustration. "Now, I'm not picking sides. Obviously I think Shadow is a better guy – but you can't just mess with people's feelings like that. Don't lead Shadow on and don't hurt try to hurt Sonic deliberately."

"I wasn't! I just had a lot to drink. And, I don't know…I like the way Shadow looks at me."

"Do you like it because it bothers Sonic?"

"No!"

"Then why? From my memory, you're not over Sonic, so why are you leading Shadow on?"

"You sent me to his office!"

"Yeah, because I knew he'd come if you went for him."

"What? Why?"

"He likes you. While we were touring, you're all he asked about."

"Shadow likes me?"

"Knuckles you're holding back the wrong guy." Sonic muttered. Knuckles held his friend with both arms and Sonic found he was unable to move. "Let go." Sonic tried to the best of his ability to wriggle away, but the dark skinned dread was too much stronger than him.

"No. You need to chill out. You also owe me a new coffee table if mine is broken."

"Alright. I'm good. I'm good." Knuckles released Sonic and Shadow looked at him. "Tails, let's go. I'm walking back. We'll put Cream in a cab."

"That's a good move." Shadow said.

"Be cool, Shadow." Knuckles glared at him. "You're Rouge's friend. That's the only reason why you and I hang. But let's get this straight right now, mess with my friends again and –"

"And you'll nothing. Boys and their tempers. Disgusting. There's always this urge to assert male dominance." Rouge walked out the bathroom with Amy close behind. She then walked over to Shadow and slapped him across the face. Shadow took the hit, unmoving. He didn't make eye contact with her. "You know what that's for. Knuckles, I'm leaving. Amy and I will share a cab."

Sonic looked at Amy who stood by the bathroom door, red faced. For an instant their green eyes met. From that moment he felt his legs weaken. He wanted her. He wanted her so badly. Just to be close to her. Hold her. Smell her hair, touch her milky skin. Though they stood in the same room with gazes locked, he felt worlds away from her. "Let's go." Sonic exited the apartment and Tails walked Cream out. The three of the seemed to vanish down the hall.

Amy held her cheeks with the palm of her hands. She felt awful. Her stomach turned as Sonic stared at her, but her heart also fluttered. Why did his gaze make her knees weak and her mouth run dry? She felt she couldn't breathe as he looked at her. She wanted desperately to hold him, but she was horrified. Scared of opening up to the anger and resentment she was sure he had towards her.

For loving him.

For leaving him.

But why should she feel bad? He was the one that chased her away with his jealousy and insecurities. He should have been strong. He was always strong. That's why she loved him. Since the first day they met, that's why she loved him.

She was never the most popular girl. Everyone thought she was odd. She was religious. A good Christian girl. She believed in Jesus and that's all that mattered. She was good at singing. She had been on the church choir for eight years. She could really hit a high note and that mattered. It was her gift from God. Who cared if they called her a Jesus freak? Who cared?

He did.

He was fast. On track and field. She didn't speak to him really. She just watched him from afar. She thought things that she was sure the preacher would advise against. Carnal things. Sinful things.

But he was so fast. So agile. His legs were firm and strong. His body, lean.

Everything about him amazed her. From his blue dyed hair, to his mystic ruin green eyes. He was perfect. Not to mention, kind. Good. He was so good. A good guy. A guy the preacher would approve of. Sure he didn't tuck his button down inside his pants, loosely tied his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his cardigan sweater for their school uniform, but he was good.

He always stood up for the little guy. He stood up for her.

"So what if she believes in Jesus?" He argued. She sat in the lunch room and the popular girls did what mean girls do – they bullied her. "That's impressive. In a world full of bullies, non-believers and conformists she kept her faith. She stands by it, and that makes her cooler than all of you put together."

Her hero.

"Sonic, you're being way lame!" One of the girls contended. "Do you like her or something?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I like her. She's strong. She puts up with you losers day to day. I can't say I'd do the same. That's tough." She sat behind him, with milk in her brown hair. He stood facing them. Protecting her.

"Let's get out of here." The girls stormed away and he turned to her. He placed a hand firmly on her shoulder, leaned down to her, and with his free hand, tilted her head up. Their noses met. Amy's cheeks were rose colored. Sonic smiled.

"You're okay now, yeah Rose?" He asked.

And there it was. Love.

The week after she dyed her hair a rose pink. She cut it short, into a bob. At lunch, the day after her transformation, she sat across from him in the cafeteria. He smiled at her. "What is your pastor going to say?" He asked.

"I can still sing. And I sing for the Lord. That's all that matters." She said to him.

"Yeah? Think I can hear you sing one day?" He placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. His green eyes seemed to glow as if fireflies lit them.

"Come to my church…well, only if you want to."

"Sure." He smiled. Amy smiled back. Though she didn't believe he'd show. She found she was wrong to disbelieve him, for the following Sunday there he was, front row. Blue hair and in a good shirt and tie, applauding her for her solo. At the end of the service he met her outside with a single rose, and put it in her hair. "A rose for a rose."

"Call me Amy."

"Amy." He said. And there it was, unknown to him, until years later. Love.

He stood at the front door of his apartment. Of her apartment.

Why always her? Why did he always think of her?

He made his way in, unable to stand up straight. After the altercation at Knuckles' place, he went to a bar and drank himself silly. He tumbled into the sofa and closed his eyes. He felt warm. He remembered. He remembered the way she smelled. The way her skin felt. Milky. Like Amy's skin. Perhaps, softer.

"Shadow," she'd say. "what are you doing?" She wore a light blue sun dress. Her arms were exposed. Her legs. She in the white sofa of the modern apartment. Grand art pieces hung on the walls. Photography. All of them, images taken by her.

"Making pancakes." He answered.

"I see. I like blueberries in mine." She lay down and raised her hands over her head. "Can I take a picture of you while you cook?"

"No." He answered sharply.

"Please? You should wear an apron. It would be so lovely."

"Maria I said -"

Click.

"Stop it."

Click. Click.

"You're so handsome Shadow. You're so precious. I want to keep your image. I want it etched in my mind for the rest of my life." She stood beside him at that moment. Her blue eyes hazed with a desire that no one could define. She leaned into him and kissed the side of his mouth. He stood, statue like. Only his hands moved as he flipped the pancakes "You're my David, yes?"

"Yes." He said to her. She kissed the side of his mouth again and this time Shadow turned to her. He left the flame beneath the pancakes that cooked in the skillet. He kissed her multiple times. Still holding the camera, her arms circled around his neck. He pressed her against the counter. Kissing her neck, trailing her collarbone with his tongue. She gasped and the golden brown pancakes remained in the pan, becoming black.

He was turning her black. Like his hair. The golden blonde of her, becoming charcoal black, by him, for him.

They sank to the floor and he made love to her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her moans louder to his ears than the smoke detector. The pancakes were charcoal black now. Inedible and ruined.

Shadow looked at Maria as they lay together on the white tile of her kitchen floor. He breathed heavy and his tongue felt heavy.

"I lo-"

"Don't. Keep being cold and still. Like a statue." Though he had turned her black, she had ruined him.

Shadow opened his eyes and arose out the sofa. Shaking the thoughts of her from his head. He was drunk. It was the alcohol.

He made his way to the bedroom and as he opened the door there she stood, like a statue. She turned around slowly, mechanically, and looked at him. Blue eyes wide. Blonde tresses on her shoulders. He hoped history wouldn't repeat itself. He hoped so badly.

"Maria?" He said.