Never really seen much of Rouge's backstory, so I fugue I 'd try my hand on how she became a thief and a spy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Sonic franchise.

5: Taking Broadway Avenue

"I'm telling you, darling Rouge, charity has it's charms. People see you more than some cold, heartless proprietor, and really–well you feel good about yourself."

Yeah, but for how long?

She held her comment behind her smile as Honey the Cat, owner and operator of Honey Clothing Brand, held hers on the screen of Rouge's phone. The white-furred bat, her black half-piece cat suit with the capris length fabric ending at her white boots, hearts on the tips, and a single heart across her well endowed chest, sat to the right in the back of her traveling limo. It was best to travel in the dark, right at ten. Of course, it was Wednesday night; the only ones out were night shift people, and workaholics...such as herself, and her night shift security.

And the yellow cat she had hoped would have turned in to that by now.

"I know how charity is good," Rouge replied. "But how is it going to perk up my new business?" Her voice had been measured, firm, yet, it held sincerity. She didn't want to come off like a total bitch. Granted, it was her nature since a young age, her mother taking the reign of her upbringing whom she now saw as a bitter despot rather than a woman bat looking to prepare her only daughter for life. Her limo and it's two escorts of SUVs, one in front, the other behind with it's headlights still coming through the dark tinted rear window, were taking her home, with a detour to her old home; the streets of Broadway Avenue.

"Well, silly, you give out some of your new clothing line to your biggest customers. With your signature–" And yours as well, Rouge interjected coldly in her mind, "–and how people just want to be successful like you–" And Rouge nearly wanted to snort at that; people didn't truly understand the stress that occupied her very existence to stay on top of owning now a soon to be third endeavor, "–the new merch will be it's own advertising. Word of mouth will explode, and bam, new successful clothing line."

Again, she wanted to snort, but from a different meaning. But she looked at the icon of herself in the corner of the screen-time call with Honey, seeing that her large ears were still attuned and not giving away her expressions from the inside, her face offering a smile, and her white fur and short hair that co-mingle together still looked decent after sixteen hours at her Casino. Her wary eyes, however, was what betrayed her.

You wanted a new life!

"Heck," Honey continued, "I gave out my old stock clothing line to these new comers from Angel Island." Rouge's ears actually raised higher at this. It's not that she hadn't heard of the new Echidna's arrival–no thanks to Knuckles calling her with pure anxiety bleeding from his lips, but she hadn't known Honey had essentially met them.

"Oh, really?" she inquired with a sharpening right eye.

"Poor things, hardly any clothes–let me tell you, a pink Echidna girl was not shy about, well, being half naked in public. I'm pretty sure it was because she didn't care since she looked to be more in pain and trying work her new arm."

Rouge had the mental thought of so many ogling eyes on her if she were to give the public that treasure...from both men and women. It was bad enough being clothed.

Course, Knuckles doesn't seem to look at me the same way, that stuck up Guardian.

But a pink-furred Echidna?

She let the thought fade as the lead SUV took the exit from the loop to the southeastern part of Station Square. Yellow street lamps passed overhead, her seatbelt tightened as the limo slowed for the coming right turn, her security team radioing each other to do a Westopolis-stop through the red light–which they kept going through as if the traffic laws didn't matter. But that was part of the operations and profession she had hired. Always stay on the move–it was safety.

"Rouge, you look tired," Honey stated with a sympatric tone and look. "Let me let you go?"

She smiled. "Sure, Honey."

"And we'll finish out the details of this, and find time for designs to choose. Hopefully we can get this new line for you going in a few months."

"That would be great!"

"And we'll have to get with Breezie with the contracts and what-nots," Honey added. Rouge nearly wanted to roll her eyes, but it had been the green furred hedgehog that really had been helping her go straight. It was harder than she had imagined, but taking not as much time as she had thought. Two years, between a war and a virus, Rouge had really done a lot for herself in a relatively short time.

"Okay," she relented. "Anyways, I'll talk with you, say, over lunch in downtown?"

"Sounds good, there Rouge. You have a good night sweetie."

She always hated being called that. She was anything but.

And yet, she still smiled. "You too, Honey. Ciao!"

The screen to her phone went dark before returning to the image of the front of her Casino, the neon blue and black lights over the front doors, a black limo out front with the valet boy closing the door as she had been walking the seven steps. The photo had not been staged, but rather a nice candid shot of her that she had found on SmileBook, which was the app-icon she thumbed. Working both thumbs, she typed out where her last pass of the night was going to be:

On my way back to where I started...from nothing on a street with good people and businesses.

The truth, however as her thumb hit post, was not as nice as she had made it seem. The dark truth being it was the first street where she stole for the first time in her life. She had chosen her target well. Unsuspecting, too much into his newspaper, or eyeing the single lady cat across the street, and his large wallet unprotected...or the brown document envelope taped under the bench. She had dropped her white purse right next to him. It wasn't for the illusion for him to catch his eye and become a distraction, but rather for everyone else around them to think it. And she acted normal and quick, grabbed the envelope as she picked up her large white handbag, and subtly eased the man's wallet from his back pocket, making sure to rub the handbag at his waist and up his blue suit jacket, and picked herself up and walked away in one fluid motion. She let her lips mouth sorry...mouthing it just now in the sanctum of her limo as she had said the same after her feint of clumsiness.

That had been over twelve years ago, she now being twenty one. And the victim...she can still remember his bat wings folded behind him, his black-furred ears slightly twitching from the cool spring air in the afternoon sun. And his voice to her...

"My wallet isn't part of the game, Rouge," he scolded, still looking at his newspaper when she nearly got three steps away from him.

She wanted her little security caravan to press faster now. She wanted to see the old street bench by the One-Oh-Seven bus stop. To see her father when he was still very much in her life.

She thumbed the screen to lock and go dark by pressing the button at the side of her phone, and tucked it into her white handbag. Not the same one she had when she was barely ten, but one close to it and in the seat next to her. She earned both, the current being a reward to herself for starting the straight route in her life. Very close to the route they were slightly taking.

The lead, black SUV was stout in a meager way. Four doors, a slight compartment for groceries, albeit it probably had various weapons or medical kit in it, the square body never rolled when it took a left turn on a green light. Frankly, neither did her limo. Something she was contemplating in not renewing the lease for and getting one of those bigger SUVs instead. Up-armored and all the current accouterments she had in her limo currently...that she relented to herself she barely used. Well, except the mini-bar, and generally she partook in it when she had friends or business guests with her, making things more sociable, but watching her own intake to keep her head about her so she would not get swindled, herself.

The threats had started subtle but were there when she started her new pass at life. Former clients and partners were not keen with her finding criminal activities not enjoyable anymore. The fast, quick thrill of taking without permission, and worrying about finding herself in a cage, they lost their appeal after the Egg War. Then, seeing how life was so fleeting when the Metal Virus took so many, the stress of staying alive in the underbelly of the world became suffocating.

But she was taught this at a young age. How to take for necessity. Then how to take because something is owed to her. Thanks, mom, she sighed, embittered.

Then her heart sank. I'm sorry, dad.

He had been in and out of her life, finding where he had gone, or where he was going to be half-truths. But food was on the table, shelter over her large eared head, and clothes her mom would pick out when he was absent. When he was home, he wasn't; staring off into a world she could not see. When she asked, startling him at times, he would look to her, smile, and said he was sorry he had disappeared for a moment.

It seemed when politics and conflicts that she didn't care for would ebb and flow through the news, he would either be home more, or less. The fledgling United Federation was like that in the beginning. When the failure of the Space Colony Ark crashed to Earth back before she was born, the Federation had split as certain city states saw the government of the time to not care for certain citizens. Then later, when who was revealed that had been really guiding whatever project was happening above Earth's atmosphere was exposed–an alien creature with envious eyes and a black heart–the large city states began to just...leave. Session of Conscience, she remembered the pronouncements when Central City split...followed by more.

And so did her father in the process as things seemed to spiral more into chaos. What had been five city states that made up the Federation had been reduced to the current three, with Westopolis rejoining recently after the victory of the Egg War. Central City was still going through the motions, but they were having good relations with the Restoration. Politics, the second profession–the fifth profession in front and behind her taking her home–had been an abstract curiosity for her until the War happened. Now it not only affected her business, but her current track.

She met that experiment that had been created over Earth nearly fifty years ago. That project. He was a lost soul in a black and red accented furred hedgehog's body. Saved her a few times. And she him maybe once, or twice. He had been impulsive; misguided from disillusionment. An embodiment of anger; chaos in control of him...and he it. She hoped he was doing better. She hoped they had parted ways as friends, not mere strangers caught up in the horror of war. Wishing he found some sort of peace.

And at the time, she was a thief, using her charm and trade craft she learned from her father when he was home; to steal jewels, hearts, money...and information. She struck the good looks side of the gene-lottery, and used it as far as her morality and dignity would carry her. After all, it was what her mother had instructed.

Had that been a lie as well?

Like Dad having an affair?

It had been the reason why her mom left him, a twelve year old her in tow. And the divorce...it had been quick, and it seemed painless, her father agreeing to almost every term, like he had been unfaithful to them and that putting up a fight would have denied his guilt. This admission became payments of child support and alimony, and her father never to be seen, and neither was the accused woman that had stolen his heart from her mother's.

Fingers were pointed from her mother to phantom names and faces, none to be seen.

In her father's stead, strangers. It started with male Islanders, then female. Again, more coping accusations that men were all alike and women should be better company. Yet, they moved on too, and Rouge discovering her trade craft getting better with each outing on her own in the streets of southeast Station Square. They were fun, profitable, though she had been caught a few times, her mother blaming her father for her upbringing to her victims, the manager or the police. She never admitted, though that she had encouraged it, laughing with Rouge for taking things from unsuspecting men.

Then one day when she was thirteen, her mother's money train stopped...and Rouge left at the station, completely without a father.

The right turn down a four lane street rocked her some, but mostly from her reflective stupor.

They didn't even go to his funeral, her mother only cussing his name with "good riddance" tied to it...though she could see the sorrow behind her eyes when she caught her by herself. Rouge herself never knew what caused her father's end, and she didn't care to hear the conspiracies of what had been his death from her mother.

But seven years later–and seven blocks down the street–life had seemingly went back to normal. She went back to her casino she acquired through shady means and people, to use as a front for her illegal holdings she would steal and sell, plus take her fifteen percent from her fancy laundering through shell companies and bank accounts. She did her best to fade in the back ground, keeping eyes away from her...well, except the purple ones of a certain echidna on a levitating Island. He was a commodity she failed at stealing...his heart in particular. She would giggle inside when he would react to her kissing his cheek unsuspectedly, jumping sideways, his face plastered with suspicion and fright like she had given him something he could not scrub off.

There was something about that gruff, complete resolve that attracted her to him. Knuckles was there only for his one mission...to protect the Master Emerald. And hers–to try and steal his heart...

Until...

The moment a box had arrived at her apartment six months prior held the same feelings she knew Knuckles was going through when more of his people had magically showed up; unannounced, and unsolicited. There was no return address for either. Knuckles' initial reaction was to send them back, to be left alone; hers to cast the box aside to peer in for another day. He was in shock. She; indifferent. She had worked with enough people in her line of work to know their emotions, and with them, their thoughts and reactions. The poor echidna was getting the shock of his life...that he was not alone.

Just as she got hers when she opened the box on her dinning room table in her lavish studio apartment she was currently traveling to. Inside was a folded U.F. flag, five stars sewn on it instead of the three that it currently possessed. Underneath it she found a plastic package with twenty-one spent rifle casings. Underneath those, assorted military medals she had no idea what they had stood for. A piece of paper had been folded with them that she slowly opened to reveal a pencil shading of a star with a scrawl underneath reading Semper Fidelis with a second scrawl reading Tertia Optio.

"Always Faithful...Third Option," she recited under her breath from reading their meanings when she searched them on the internet. She let her eyes look off to the passing buildings outside her window.

And underneath the paper was grey lockbox with a green, tattered, soiled baseball cap laying on top. Picking up the lockbox had brought back a lesson her father had imparted to her when she was nine:

"What is the purpose of a lockbox, Rouge?"

She had given a thought for a moment before she answered, "To keep my things safe?"

He had shaken his head to her. "No, dear-heart...It's to keep honest men honest."

Well, she wasn't a man, and she was far from being honest. A table knife and a paperclip was all she needed to open it since there was no key to be had. The rush to open a secret for her might as well have been water to a thirsty person. When she flipped the lid open, however, her life had changed with it.

On top was a photograph of her, her skin almost rose colored, absent of strain of fur, her ears so small, as her as a newborn, wrapped in a blanket...and held by her father. He was smiling, though it was hard to see. But she knew what his solace looked like, mostly from his green eyes. She'd remembered it when she opened her white handbag to show she had retrieved the document from under him that he had placed. When she had placed chalk marks in certain weird spots around their little part of the city. He would smile to her when they would pass them. It was their little game that her mother neither thought of, or cared for.

Placing the photo of her just as she entered the world, and her father holding his new world, she went to the second photograph. Seven men; one human, the rest Islanders, a wolf, two jackals, a purple hedgehog, a fox, and her father stood together in front of a blown out Egg Base. He was the only member not wearing camouflage fatigues but grey instead. They all held assorted rifles, their faces actually smiling under helmets. Again, though, her father didn't have that on his head; just a green cap covering his large black-furred ears, his wings visible.

And the lies began to unravel for her. The more of the papers she dug through in the box, the more photos she came across until the bottom, Rouge had finally found who her father had had an affair with, or really with what:

It had been the Agency. His country. His cause. His honor.

It was the betrayal not of her father, but of her mother. It stabbed at her that night from her dinner table. And all the lies seemed to flood into her as tears. Why would two people who love each other go to this? And why would her mother be...?

Jealous?

It was the only thing she could think of. Her mother had been racked with jealousy over her country for taking her husband from her. Stealing him.

Rouge could understand her mother's anger. She felt it, too...or had. Her service on the other hand, though she hadn't raised her right hand and swore an oath, nor put a uniform on, but she had done a part in the victory against Eggman and Starline with it. With it, came a flavor that her soul relished more than she ever thought she could.

Freedom.

And yet, here her father lay, in a box he kept, and with a flag and a handful of spent cartridges and medals...and she had never known him.

And she was proud for him, though seemingly too late for him to have known.

He had worked for G.U.N. He had done things she had the feeling she would never know. The questions, though, kept swirling in her head ever since. What did he see in her mother? Was she always like she was? What had changed?

Had she change?

Her answer to herself had been an emphatic yes!

She had the intense pull to join G.U.N., only to stop when she realized that it would look as if she was virtue signaling, considering her casino was getting more and more focus as she succeeded more with it. To add, she wasn't out of the woods when it came to her illicit dealings. Joining, tossing her casino and shell companies, then figuring the taxes, the fear of being caught would be more of an actuality. Instead of serving her country and conscience, she would be serving time.

And a pretty thing like you in prison?

The pavement to the streets ended, and the brick to the older part of town began. The limo swayed some as the street narrowed to two lanes, the median a strip of grass, dotted with trees and street lamps at even spaces. Four blocks through controlled intersections and she would be home with a right turn. The grey fox turned his head to her from the passenger seat between her and the open privacy divider. No words were exchanged, letting his eyes see her before scanning the route ahead. The red wolf who was driving kept his attention forward.

This had been at least their seventh time through this part of town, and generally at night. It was the sixth time she had posted on SmileBook she was going to see her old grounds of growing up over the past few months.

She wished she could go back in time. This was the only avenue to do so.

At some point, she was going to have to find a way to come clean. She had a black-book full of names and accounts she might be able to get leniency, or better, immunity, from some shady figures she had been dealing with, funneling their money through her casino and sending it back through shell companies. Of course, she could hide away funds in case she needed to disappear. That feeling crawled up her spine, feeling it close in on her like a hunting demon with every passing day. Maybe this deal with Honey would be another step to wash the last of the dirty money clean...or at least away.

Yet, there still was a pull to stay on the other side of the line of honesty, and criminality. Maybe it was comfort? Maybe she was stepping to far out of her comfort zone to the point that fear of the unknown had called out louder than her conscience had the courage to not hear. Regardless, she had gone far enough the other way...there was no turning back.

And the right turn was coming, her body shifting in the black leather seat.

Her father's shadow box, the wooden case with his flag and his medals, were waiting for her when she arrived back home. A new ritual of seeing it, the picture of him holding her, and with his friends he served with; she would see them before she turned in, and when she awakened. A reminder that the path of honor was before her, to continue it in her father's stead.

The front SUV made the turn, dodging the curb. The wolf swung the limo wide to make the turn to the narrow brick laid street. She swayed some in her seat, her seat belt not catching, the suspension taking the shock of the uneven street that she barely felt. They were now heading north, the grass and trees of the divider on the left, the south bound side next to it, the passing street lamps to either side, and shops and apartments lining the wide sidewalk. To her right was much the same. Old shops that were still there from her young childhood, new ones she hadn't seen until two months ago that were once candy stores, or shoe stores. Not a single, large retail chain down the two blocks.

Passing a tree to the right that stuck up through the concrete sidewalk, she readied herself as if she were ten again, waiting to see if her dad had returned home to meet her at her bus stop. The sign was still there. And so was the bench he sat on to watch the world go by, waiting for her. Watching her learn trade craft.

Her driver knew it too, slowing some so she could see it.

And there, just back far enough from the curb to not be a nuisance. She could see him, his arm hanging on the back of the green painted wooden backrest, his green baseball cap over his head, ears sticking out, and his tan cargo pants, and shirt. He looked as if he belonged in the scenery. A grey man, though his fur was black, his skin peach, like hers. But his green eyes were always moving, always seeing. She, trying to avoid them, to sneak up on him, even flying above him to swoop in and get a rise from him.

What was he teaching me?

Skills...she had them all along. They came into great use during the Egg War. How can she use them again for a better way?

They passed the bench, she let her head and green eyes follow till it vanished behind the limo's blind spot in the structure. Ahead were more shops, flower planters and trees, large marble encased trash cans that were pleasing for the aesthetics. Another block and a half, passing the two story World Finance building on the other side of the grassy ridge median and street, a single person walking down the street in the shadow of the street lights and business signs, they would make a left turn and in another fifteen minutes, they would pull into the garage of her condo building, let her out, and upstairs to her top story studio. Clean-up, sleep, and be ready for another day ahead.

A sway of the limo brought her head forward, her elbow perched on the edge of the door and the window. A discarded box, medium in size, was perched on one of the marble cylinder trash receptacles. She made a face.

What a way to ruin a picturesque night on Broadway Avenue–

The box flashed with a deafening boom with a flash and smoke, the concussion reverberating through the limo–!

Before she could blink, a streak of smoke spit from the explosion so fast she nearly saw it, and it slammed into the lead SUV, knocking it violently to the left side–the front tire catching the curb and grassy knoll of the media and launching it up, and crashing into one of the decorative trees. It slid back...then slowly rolled onto its side! Fire erupted from the engine and front passenger door, the frame that separated the occupants from the engine was caved in with a large hole through the side with black smoke funneling up through it. And to her panic, the SUV was obstructing half of the street in front of them, just enough she knew they couldn't get around it–

She jolted forward when the red wolf slammed on the brakes of the limo, her seatbelt catching across her chest and lap. Even with the blood in her skull smashing forward, she was still able to see the wolf slam the shifter of the limo in reveres, the fox looking back and past her, his radio up to his mouth.

"Back! BACK! REVERSE!" he shouted.

Again, she was thrown forward when the limo accelerated backwards, the lights of the tailing SUV close to the rear window, tires squealing to find traction on the brick street. She kept silent, letting what little training her security detail had taught her take over. Remain silent, keep breathing, follow instructions–

A sharp clap and a bright flash from behind them erupted before she was rocked forward in her seat once more from another violent boom! The lights from the rear SUV had eaten the rear of the limo, Rouge hearing the crunch of metal and glass when the limo slammed into it–and she thought she saw fire burning through the front windshield of the rear SUV.

"Shit, forward!" the fox shouted. She was able to see his arm going forward at the windshield. "Take the damn sidewalk and get us out of here!"

The wolf yanked down hard on the shifter and slammed the gas–Rouge heard the engine roar, her body pushed back in the seat, her belt tightening. The limo lurched forward, the driver getting speed under them, yanking the wheel right before spinning it left to hop the curb–

Glass shattering and spitting at her face, the shrieking of metal being violently separated, and the onslaught of air and the feeling of a hammer slammed her senses and her body sideways to the right! She managed to bring her arms up to her face, to shield her eyes from the flying glass and metal splinters, only seeing a blur of black and green before shutting them. The limo's floor beneath her feet nearly disappeared as it slammed and screeched across the brick street at a downward angle, her right hand finding the leather door handle to hold her back into the seat as the forward momentum tried to throw her as the rear half–her in it–was grinding to a stop.

Ahead, her eyes were able to see through her crossed arms at the other half of her limo–separated–the floor grinding across the street, sparking, the front pointed up!

Her end stopped when the back-half slid to a stop on the curb. The front half did the same, the driver and the passenger–what she had just concluded were her last two protectors– scrambling in their seats to get their belts off.

Her heart was racing, pumping the adrenalin surge she felt charge through, dampening her judgement, perception. Stay calm! She shouted at herself. She held the urge to scream, to yell at her detail. A fleeting thought raced through her, wondering if she had paid these men enough to risk their lives to secure her.

The cool night air wafted at her from her now split open limo, bringing her senses back to the forefront. They were heightened...and she knew the wolf and fox's also had to be.

Her heart seemingly leapt with fright when the both doors of the front of her limo opened. Both wolf and fox got out, their head's looking side to side, both reaching, flinging their suit jackets aside and reaching for their weapons. The wolf was reaching for his cell phone! Yes!. The fox squared his eyes to her.

"Get the principle!" the wolf shouted, still sifting for his phone in his inside pocke–

A dark figure materialized from the night sky, illuminated from the street lamps and the burning SUVs to her front and on its side and the one to her rear, and grabbed the grey fox by his arms...and flew back up into the dark with the man in its clutches, yelling in a shocked scream.

The wolf dropped his phone in his left hand, reaching to support his pistol with his right, spinning to the right, aiming up at the thing that took his partner–

She had let a single blink slip to clear her eyes in a sudden quickness that when her vision snapped back, a large, tall dark figure stepped out from beside the wolf from the median! The red-furred wolf nearly got his gun around, but a large white and black hand clamped down on his right arm before he could aim, a left hand crashing across the wolf's head in a fist! It was a tall, muscular gorilla, wearing green fatigue pants, his chest bare with white skin, his sides and arms black with fur. And with a single motion, the gorilla grabbed the shirt collar of the stunned wolf, and still holding his right arm, cocked back with his legs, and spun to the right in a violent thrust...and launched her last person of protection up and over, his body vanishing in the night and past the roof of her now split limo. She may have heard him scream, but she did most certainly hear the crash of heavy glass from across the block.

The scream she did hear, however, came from over her head!

The grey fox fell from the sky, his terror filled scream following him all the way down until his body impacted on the hood of the torn limo, knocking the crudely cut limo back-half upwards before gravity slammed it back down, glass from the windows and windshield shattering from the impact.

And so did the grey fox's body–no sounds coming from him as his lifeless body tumbled from the hood of the limo to the city street.

For a moment, she blinked, waiting for the panic she knew was coming to find her heart and squeeze it. She waited for the ice to hit her nerves. To freeze her!

A male voice from inside her head shouted to her, and she obeyed her father's command. Run! Her head shot down to her lap, her hands finding her seat belt, tracing it to the left, to find the release.

The sound of feathered wings flapped then stopped, calling her attention to look up, but she kept her focus to find the release. A plan formed–run and fly! Dart left, take a leap off the grassy ridge of the median and fly into the night–

A voice–and a male voice she knew all too well with his eager tone, made her stop, and made her smirk.

"Damn, fellas!"

She cocked her head. Whoever had done this to her, well, they were about find out what violence was at a high rate of speed. She cocked her head and lifted, opening her eyes, readying to see the blue hero she knew had somehow arrived to–

Her hope filled heart that had swelled to the size of the one covering her chest lurched to a deathly stop, her blood draining from her face when her eyes looked forward.

Standing in front of her that grabbed her attention were two, long, deep scars in the chest and upper stomach of...a hedgehog. His hands were akimbo to his hips, his arms and shoulders covered with a black leather jacket with flames on the sleeves, his feet in black punk-looking boots, his legs in nearly matching leather pants, and pair of red sun shades propped over his forehead close to his pointed ears.

Her face softened in a frown as horror ripped through her, killing the hope she had just felt get pulled from her. She was expecting green eyes, but what she had open hers too, however, were blue...his brows pointed with a sick envious stare that scrawled with his gaping grin across his peach skin face.

And his quills...his fur, his spins...they were green!

"She's just as fine as the one we left behind!" he fired off with an empathic voice.

Beside the hedgehog to his left was a hawk, his feathers deep blue, his hands in red gloves. To his right, the tall gorilla, his chest bare, his legs in camo-pants of a pattern she has never seen before, his black military boots bloused.

Her sneer of victory vanished to a gapping frown, her eyes locked onto the green hedgehog in front of her. Her voice slipped from her lips as her brow furrowed.

"Sonic?"

The hedgehog's head snapped with a shocked expression ripping across his face. He stepped forward, his right hand going to his ear. "What–What did you say?"

She held her mouth shut, her hands going back to find the release of her seatbelt.

"Whoa, whoa–whoa!" he festered with a snide tone, stepping forward into what was left of her limo, the gorilla following next to him along with the blue hawk. They grabbed her hands, wrestling them to her side and pressing them against the seat and side window. "Can't have you going–well–all bat shit on us!" the hedgehog nearly laughed out.

Then he lowered his head to clear the roof of the down angled limo...and he got right to her tightened face.

"So," he started, giving a weird smile to her, "to establish our relationship–" he looked off to his right, then back to her "–we need to establish our boundaries! Okay?" His breath was wretched, his tightening lips the same. "So, to keep my mental health in tacked–" he slurred with exaggeration leaned forward to her, giving a half wink before leveling his tone "–and your physical health the same!" His head had tilted with it, leaning forward with a sneer on his lips to her left ear.

And then he let rip his voice–

"You keep that mother fucker's name outta your pretty mouth!"

The loudness quaked her body, her head turning away as she slammed her eyes shut, only to open them when she felt him slither back a few inches from her. He was still smiling at her, his head tilted as if she had understood him.

"Okay?" he questioned with an exaggerated grin.

Another figure appeared to her left, the glistening of his green skin made her conclude it as a frog that she could see from the flickering fire of the two burning SUVs and the street lamps. He wore black clothes that were more or less casual, though his sleeves were rolled up to expose his arms, a leather flight helmet on his head. White smoke wafted like silver hair floating underwater from the end of a large green tube, she realizing it was a launcher. It had been very thing that killed the SUV and its occupants behind her. Placing it on the ground, he went for her white handbag just in front of the wrecked floor of her limo. How it survived was anything but a best guess from her quivering mind. The frog then produced a black bag of his own, picking her handbag up, and placing it inside what she realized was a faraday bag as she had used a few herself. He rolled the top closed before reaching back down to pick up the smoking, anti-armor launcher tube.

She neither nodded, nor said a word. Trembles began to find their way through her body. But she still flexed her fists, and her wings, ready for a fight.

The hedgehog looked over to his right and past the gorilla holding her, a thought snapping to him from his widened eyes and his mouth agape. "Yes," he snapped with his fingers, "Simian! Ugly bag?"

The gorilla motioned with his head. "Left cargo pocket!"

The hedge hedgehog reached into the pocket of the gorilla and pulled out a black bag, rolling it open with both of his hands, letting his eyes trace up and down her body that made her shutter. The opaque grin he produced shot panic through it.

"So...no offense to you," he smirked, still looking her up and down, "but I generally use this bag for girls I want to have a little nap-time with–" he let his head twist some, his chest doing the same, his mouth keeping a smile before he relaxed it with a sneer "–but with girl who is ugly as sin, but has a bitchin' body!" He gave a face of understanding, but his eyes said predator. "See, you're actually damn hot, but...we just can't have you see where we're taking you!"

With her eyes widening, she commanded her arms to fight back and forth, trying to break the grips from the gorilla and the hawk. She felt her wrist almost come away from the blue hawk, but he quickly changed his grip, taking his knee and press it against her hip, ceasing her from squirming.

"Okay, Frog! Let her hear the songs of our people!" the hedgehog grinned.

The frog reappeared between the gorilla and the green smiling hedgehog, his hands coming for her head. She slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head as violently as possible, trying to let out a scream. But the frog was quick. His hands shoved two ear buds down her ear canals; so far down, she wondered if they were going to be there permanently–

"Baby chao–do-do-do-doo-da-doo! Baby chao–do-do-do-doo-da-doo!"

The small girls voice hammered at her eardrums, silencing the world around her. Then hedgehog sealed the rest of it when he reached to her and he covered her face with the black bag, slipping it under her chin and over her ears in a rough fashion. His sneering, envious face was the last thing she saw before darkness consumed her vision. She began to breath heavily, thinking of what to do.

Her chest and lap became free when she felt her seatbelt get disconnected from her. She tried to kick, landing her left foot on the shin of the gorilla. But she was repaid with a hammering fist to her stomach, violently pushing the wind out of her just enough that she began to hyperventilate through the bag. Then she felt her arms being folded behind her, her muscles tensing and fighting for freedom, before a nylon strap began to wrap around her abdomen, arms, and wings with several turns, then being tied just at her back.

Catching her breath between hands pulling her forward at her biceps, forcing her out of the seat and out to the street, she fought with what limbs that were still free, giving a quick kick to her right, only to have her leg get caught and locked with an arm against her other leg–

A male voice now slammed into her ears, the small child's leaving:

"Baby whisp–do-do-do-doo-da-doo! Baby whisp–do-do-do-doo-da-doo!"

She felt another belt being wrapped around her legs, her arms being held with two different sets of hands. She tried to shake her body, to fight! Then she let her last defense come out of her lips with a harsh scream that was muffled from the blaring ear-buds and the bag over her head. Taking a deeper breath, she screamed again!

"HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!–"

Even through the fabric of the black bag, she was able to glimpse at a golden yellow light just ahead of her seemingly appear. She felt a low warble of bass rebound through her body when the ring swelled open, almost like it was ready to engulf her. Still she screamed, squinting her eyes to not see what horror was ahead of her!

"HELP! SOMEONE! PLEASE!"

"Baby whisp–do-do-do-doo-da-doo–"

She felt more hands around her body, grabbing at her...passing her through what felt like the golden circle she could barley see from the black bag. When her legs passed through it, she counted the seconds before the golden light vanished just as it had appeared, the same low bass warble able to pierce through the children's song blaring at full volume in her ears.

She felt the stomps of feet, maybe four–five sets of hands on her now. She tried to scream again, but this time another fist landed at her left cheek, and hard. It rang her senses, her mouth tasting of blood.

What barrier she had holding back her panic and fear was now completely gone. Her body swayed with the hands, her head being pointed up, the heavy stomps slowed as she felt them climbing a set of stairs with her body being like a living log in their hands. Dim lights to her left passed by like orbs, then a few more when she felt her abductors carrying to the right and level from the top of the stairs. The air she could barley breath in was heavy and stale, her labored intakes of it through the bag compounding it.

And all she could think of was a name to come save her. His red fur, his white crest over his chest. His white mittens!

"KNUCKLES!" she screamed as loud as she could, hoping, wishing he might hear her.

But as blackness crept more and more into her sight, as her captors carrying her deeper into the unknown, her hearing overtaken from children's singing voices, she pushed what breath she had out for one more name from her lips in a crying plea before a fist crashed across her head.

"Daddy!–"

END OF PART ONE

Thank you again for taking time and reading my on going novel. I'm afraid my updates may be a little more spaced out as I've fallen behind on writing the next chapters. I generally try to have a few chapters written before I post up one, but my time has been very limited. Plus, I am throttling back some so I don't get burned out.

Still working more on my active voice in this. Please review and give pointers. Helps me improve.

And...how did I do with Scourge?