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***
Amy Rose was reckless.
***
When she was little she liked to play pretend; she liked to pretend that she was a princess... because when she was a princess her history didn't matter, her past was irrelevant. With a wave of her tiny hand her subjects would love her. Love, a fickle emotion that the young rosette found herself steadily obsessed with.
Because even though she gave so much, even though she was so affectionate the feeling was never mutual.
So her head was placed in the clouds.
***
She had run away from home at the age of eight with nothing but the clothes on her back and a novelty hammer.
Her parents had found her rash, found her over-affectionate and overzealous. They thought she spent too much time outside, wandering around her yard and waiting for one of her childish fantasies to come true.
They had certainly loved their little girl; she was their little bundle of joy, born out of love -- well, she was an accident, but she had saved their marriage -- and they only wanted what was best for her. What, with her being a measly eight years old and over-imaginative, they only wanted to protect her. They thought it would be better for her to spend more time studying, to prepare herself for years to come... college, work ethic, life... not just life spent as a housewife.
But of course their reckless little girl didn't listen; with a burst of alacrity, the little hedgegirl had climbed out her window and down the dirt path, visions of a blue blur stuck in her eyes.
***
He was everything she had dreamed about.
He looked to be a few years older than her... four, max. She had her sights set on a blue hedgehog boy with dazzling emerald eyes and a breathtaking lopsided smile. She had literally ran into him at Never Lake, over by the Little Planet...
There was just something so alluring about him to her, something that drew her in and wrapped itself around her heart like a ribbon, tightening dangerously. Little Rosie the Rascal knew better than to fight a feeling like that; it had to be fate, had to be destiny. It was just like in the movies. With an act of fierce bravado, Amy had marched back over to that boy and smiled at him, her rosy checks shading steadily to match her namesake.
He had looked frightened... but he had to feel it too, right? The attraction, the magnetic pull between him and her...
With a chaste smile, he had pat her head and told her that he had to go... that he "had to juice". Even the way he spoke drove her absolutely mad; careless language, much unlike the proper English her parents had tried to engrave into her young mind. This boy was everything she had dreamed of; wild, rebellious... handsome. Her prince in red sneakers.
He was meant to be her knight, her hero. She had read it in her cards, foreseen his arrival. And that one night, when she had seen a blue blur and followed him all the way to the lake? When he had spotted her and she'd experienced love for the first time?
When he ran "that one time", even though he would do it time and time again?
That would forever be her first impression on love.
***
Metal had kidnapped her that very day. She had been so scared -- scared stiff, wide eyed -- and she had cried until her eyes burned. She had been gagged, tired and blindfolded to a bomb and told to stay quiet if she knew what was good for her. That task proved to be difficult for her; she wasn't a quiet girl, she always had something to say... but every time she opened her mouth the big man in red would slap her across the face.
And she had cried harder, sobbed incoherently. She wasn't used to being treated this way. Pain was not something she was accustomed to, not something she had planned for in her great journey for true love, real love.
Her first experience as a hostage. She would feel it several times again later.
And amidst all of her sobbing and fear, he had saved her. He'd swooped in, untied her, muttered a few soothing words to her and scooped her up into his sturdy arms. He had raced that menacing robot with the steely red eyes for her...she looked at him and something bubbled over inside her.
And she whispered his name.
Sonic...
***
Two years had passed and she had heard nothing from her savior. Her hero had left her with just enough to get by.
And yes, it hurt. Of course it did. She was ten years old and alone. Some nights she cried herself to sleep. Others, she'd stare into the stars and whisper his name over and over again, as if it would make him come back to her, running with open arms... scoop her into them like he had years ago and hold her tight...
...tell her he wanted to be with her...
She was convinced that he felt the same jolt that she did. He had too, it was just too strong to ignore. Who cares if she was three years younger than him and couldn't keep up with his breathtaking speed. She'd catch up in age some day, when they were both adults... and why should she have to chase him if he could just carry her, or hold her hand and pull her along?
The cards never lied.
Even if they read "follow" again and again.
***
She didn't see him again until she was 12 and he was 15. He had eluded her for 2 more years, evaded her, even. She had been minding her own business (which was strange in itself, because she was always instigating), reminiscing about him and she had spotted him like a hawk. Same bright blue complexion, same warm grin that made her insides churn pleasantly. He was so much the same and yet so much different at the same time. Age had been wonderful to him; he had lost his baby fat and was lean and slim, with a slight athletic build -- from all the running, she assumed.
She still got that same carefree, fearless feeling when she was near him; heck, in the same general area. She was yards away from him and already felt giddy.
The first thing he did when he saw her was run.
And of course she took it to heart, because even after four years away from her he was still displeased; he wasn't happy to see her. He was far away, as usual, keeping his distance from the crazy girl with the huge crush on him. So what did she do? She took the bait and chased, because somehow she was sure that if she pushed hard enough that she'd earn a spot in his heart.
She cut her long quills and tamed them, held them down with a ruby red headband. She ditched her old tutu skirt and collared shirt and replaced it with a bright red halter dress with white trimming that flailed out unnecessarily and donned her pigeon-toed feet with matching gogo boots. She gazed in the mirror and decided that this was a better, more appealing look to the opposite sex... especially older boys, who would be harder to impress than one her age. He was 15; a teenage boy with flaming hormones. She'd have to work her way into his heart somehow.
She was just so naive; innocent and reckless... and she had no idea what she was doing, what she was getting herself into.
And along came Zero. Something about her must have been attractive to rogue robots because, try as she might, no matter how far she ran he captured her... and she had screamed for Sonic. Desperately pleading with the fates to give her a break this one time and let him come for her, let him hear her... Sonic indeed had caught up with Zero but wasn't quite fast enough to save her.
She escaped, all by herself -- reasoning with a robot, at that! -- and ran into Sonic and Tails, of course, but she wouldn't have been able to get out if it weren't for the oddly kind Gamma. She was just too friendly for her own good sometimes; she saw the good in everything, an optimist to dangerous ends.
And of course once Eggman called in Gamma to exterminate Sonic she was torn in two. Who was she to cheer for? The boy that had stolen her heart four years ago and abandoned ship once the time was ripe or the kindhearted robot who had allowed her to escape simply because she was a sweet little girl who meant well?
She stood up for Gamma.
And Sonic listened, amazingly enough. Any friend of hers was a friend of his, according to him.
The admiration only flourished.
***
He died for her.
She was just so stupid! -- running after them even though he told her to wait behind because it was too dangerous; her heart had overridden her brain once again and she had barreled forward obliviously, eyes sparkling, gushing internally about how proud he'd be of her for saving the day, how thankful he'd be for her... he might even kiss her in return for her bravery!
She had no such luck; she got herself captured and was used as bait once again.
"And Amy... take care of yourself."
How was she supposed to take care of herself if he was everything she lived for, everything she had ever dreamed about? She had thrown it all away for a chance to be with him, for a chance at feeling real, honest-to-God LOVE, and he expected her to take care of herself? She couldn't even fathom how she was going to go about that... she didn't want to think about it. Sonic wasn't loosing, he never lost, he wasn't going to die. He'd turn it all around just like he always did and pat her on the head, like usual, telling her that she should have listened and she'd agree bluntly and wrap her arms around him and sob pathetically.
...but when he was plummeted into space with no real chaos emerald to protect him... well, what was she supposed to think?
He died for her. It was all her fault his life was over; she was reckless and had ended up hurting someone other than herself this time.
He exploded in space before her eyes. Tails had taken the initiative and taken down Eggman, just like a good friend would; he didn't want Sonic to be forgotten and decided to carry out the mission anyways, just like Sonic would have wanted. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to grieve over him too long; he would have wanted someone to finish what he had started.
...but Amy just couldn't help it. Hot tears brimmed in her jade green orbs and she cried like a baby, clutching the rim of the window desperately and begging him to come back, like an infant crying for their mother. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her tiny chest; like a steely liquid had wrapped itself around the contents of her chest and had frozen over; every inch of her body screamed in displeasure and she cried harder.
What was she supposed to do? He wasn't there to bail her out this time...
***
Maybe finding Chocola and Froggy would prove to him how helpful she could really be. The thirteen year old girl smiled passionately and tucked the paper into the pocket on the side of her dress. She glanced to her side; the 7 year old rabbit, her best friend, smiled anxiously and hugged her tiny blue chao closer to her. On Amy's other side was Big, the kind purple coon cat who was exactly like his namesake.
So, eyes agog, Amy turned her sight back to her pray.
"Gotcha, my Darling Sonic~" she called, grinning at her own antics.
This time, there's no way outta marrying me.
She could be playful and teasing too. After all, this was their little game.
***
He had glanced back at her before running off.
And there was that grin of his, oozing over his senses and she couldn't help but push herself farther, run faster and try to catch up to him. Gazing back was something he never did; it was like he was giving a second thought to running away from her, a second glance at her incoming form and decided that it was okay to continue their game of cat and mouse as long as she was behind him.
She couldn't help but notice that he started off slower this time; was that her imagination running amok again or was he keeping tabs on his speed? Was he not trying to get away?
The rosette damsel grinned wider and tore after him, a blithe glint in her eyes, rose colored quills flying behind her, arms flailing. Her steps, though pointed inwards, were like a well oiled machine. This was her favorite game, her favorite past time. Her hobby, which she was well practiced at.
She was determined to win the game. Amy wanted the high score.
No matter what the cost.
Amy Rose was reckless.
***
When she was little she liked to play pretend; she liked to pretend that she was a princess... because when she was a princess her history didn't matter, her past was irrelevant. With a wave of her tiny hand her subjects would love her. Love, a fickle emotion that the young rosette found herself steadily obsessed with.
Because even though she gave so much, even though she was so affectionate the feeling was never mutual.
So her head was placed in the clouds.
***
She had run away from home at the age of eight with nothing but the clothes on her back and a novelty hammer.
Her parents had found her rash, found her over-affectionate and overzealous. They thought she spent too much time outside, wandering around her yard and waiting for one of her childish fantasies to come true.
They had certainly loved their little girl; she was their little bundle of joy, born out of love -- well, she was an accident, but she had saved their marriage -- and they only wanted what was best for her. What, with her being a measly eight years old and over-imaginative, they only wanted to protect her. They thought it would be better for her to spend more time studying, to prepare herself for years to come... college, work ethic, life... not just life spent as a housewife.
But of course their reckless little girl didn't listen; with a burst of alacrity, the little hedgegirl had climbed out her window and down the dirt path, visions of a blue blur stuck in her eyes.
***
He was everything she had dreamed about.
He looked to be a few years older than her... four, max. She had her sights set on a blue hedgehog boy with dazzling emerald eyes and a breathtaking lopsided smile. She had literally ran into him at Never Lake, over by the Little Planet...
There was just something so alluring about him to her, something that drew her in and wrapped itself around her heart like a ribbon, tightening dangerously. Little Rosie the Rascal knew better than to fight a feeling like that; it had to be fate, had to be destiny. It was just like in the movies. With an act of fierce bravado, Amy had marched back over to that boy and smiled at him, her rosy checks shading steadily to match her namesake.
He had looked frightened... but he had to feel it too, right? The attraction, the magnetic pull between him and her...
With a chaste smile, he had pat her head and told her that he had to go... that he "had to juice". Even the way he spoke drove her absolutely mad; careless language, much unlike the proper English her parents had tried to engrave into her young mind. This boy was everything she had dreamed of; wild, rebellious... handsome. Her prince in red sneakers.
He was meant to be her knight, her hero. She had read it in her cards, foreseen his arrival. And that one night, when she had seen a blue blur and followed him all the way to the lake? When he had spotted her and she'd experienced love for the first time?
When he ran "that one time", even though he would do it time and time again?
That would forever be her first impression on love.
***
Metal had kidnapped her that very day. She had been so scared -- scared stiff, wide eyed -- and she had cried until her eyes burned. She had been gagged, tired and blindfolded to a bomb and told to stay quiet if she knew what was good for her. That task proved to be difficult for her; she wasn't a quiet girl, she always had something to say... but every time she opened her mouth the big man in red would slap her across the face.
And she had cried harder, sobbed incoherently. She wasn't used to being treated this way. Pain was not something she was accustomed to, not something she had planned for in her great journey for true love, real love.
Her first experience as a hostage. She would feel it several times again later.
And amidst all of her sobbing and fear, he had saved her. He'd swooped in, untied her, muttered a few soothing words to her and scooped her up into his sturdy arms. He had raced that menacing robot with the steely red eyes for her...she looked at him and something bubbled over inside her.
And she whispered his name.
Sonic...
***
Two years had passed and she had heard nothing from her savior. Her hero had left her with just enough to get by.
And yes, it hurt. Of course it did. She was ten years old and alone. Some nights she cried herself to sleep. Others, she'd stare into the stars and whisper his name over and over again, as if it would make him come back to her, running with open arms... scoop her into them like he had years ago and hold her tight...
...tell her he wanted to be with her...
She was convinced that he felt the same jolt that she did. He had too, it was just too strong to ignore. Who cares if she was three years younger than him and couldn't keep up with his breathtaking speed. She'd catch up in age some day, when they were both adults... and why should she have to chase him if he could just carry her, or hold her hand and pull her along?
The cards never lied.
Even if they read "follow" again and again.
***
She didn't see him again until she was 12 and he was 15. He had eluded her for 2 more years, evaded her, even. She had been minding her own business (which was strange in itself, because she was always instigating), reminiscing about him and she had spotted him like a hawk. Same bright blue complexion, same warm grin that made her insides churn pleasantly. He was so much the same and yet so much different at the same time. Age had been wonderful to him; he had lost his baby fat and was lean and slim, with a slight athletic build -- from all the running, she assumed.
She still got that same carefree, fearless feeling when she was near him; heck, in the same general area. She was yards away from him and already felt giddy.
The first thing he did when he saw her was run.
And of course she took it to heart, because even after four years away from her he was still displeased; he wasn't happy to see her. He was far away, as usual, keeping his distance from the crazy girl with the huge crush on him. So what did she do? She took the bait and chased, because somehow she was sure that if she pushed hard enough that she'd earn a spot in his heart.
She cut her long quills and tamed them, held them down with a ruby red headband. She ditched her old tutu skirt and collared shirt and replaced it with a bright red halter dress with white trimming that flailed out unnecessarily and donned her pigeon-toed feet with matching gogo boots. She gazed in the mirror and decided that this was a better, more appealing look to the opposite sex... especially older boys, who would be harder to impress than one her age. He was 15; a teenage boy with flaming hormones. She'd have to work her way into his heart somehow.
She was just so naive; innocent and reckless... and she had no idea what she was doing, what she was getting herself into.
And along came Zero. Something about her must have been attractive to rogue robots because, try as she might, no matter how far she ran he captured her... and she had screamed for Sonic. Desperately pleading with the fates to give her a break this one time and let him come for her, let him hear her... Sonic indeed had caught up with Zero but wasn't quite fast enough to save her.
She escaped, all by herself -- reasoning with a robot, at that! -- and ran into Sonic and Tails, of course, but she wouldn't have been able to get out if it weren't for the oddly kind Gamma. She was just too friendly for her own good sometimes; she saw the good in everything, an optimist to dangerous ends.
And of course once Eggman called in Gamma to exterminate Sonic she was torn in two. Who was she to cheer for? The boy that had stolen her heart four years ago and abandoned ship once the time was ripe or the kindhearted robot who had allowed her to escape simply because she was a sweet little girl who meant well?
She stood up for Gamma.
And Sonic listened, amazingly enough. Any friend of hers was a friend of his, according to him.
The admiration only flourished.
***
He died for her.
She was just so stupid! -- running after them even though he told her to wait behind because it was too dangerous; her heart had overridden her brain once again and she had barreled forward obliviously, eyes sparkling, gushing internally about how proud he'd be of her for saving the day, how thankful he'd be for her... he might even kiss her in return for her bravery!
She had no such luck; she got herself captured and was used as bait once again.
"And Amy... take care of yourself."
How was she supposed to take care of herself if he was everything she lived for, everything she had ever dreamed about? She had thrown it all away for a chance to be with him, for a chance at feeling real, honest-to-God LOVE, and he expected her to take care of herself? She couldn't even fathom how she was going to go about that... she didn't want to think about it. Sonic wasn't loosing, he never lost, he wasn't going to die. He'd turn it all around just like he always did and pat her on the head, like usual, telling her that she should have listened and she'd agree bluntly and wrap her arms around him and sob pathetically.
...but when he was plummeted into space with no real chaos emerald to protect him... well, what was she supposed to think?
He died for her. It was all her fault his life was over; she was reckless and had ended up hurting someone other than herself this time.
He exploded in space before her eyes. Tails had taken the initiative and taken down Eggman, just like a good friend would; he didn't want Sonic to be forgotten and decided to carry out the mission anyways, just like Sonic would have wanted. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to grieve over him too long; he would have wanted someone to finish what he had started.
...but Amy just couldn't help it. Hot tears brimmed in her jade green orbs and she cried like a baby, clutching the rim of the window desperately and begging him to come back, like an infant crying for their mother. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her tiny chest; like a steely liquid had wrapped itself around the contents of her chest and had frozen over; every inch of her body screamed in displeasure and she cried harder.
What was she supposed to do? He wasn't there to bail her out this time...
***
Maybe finding Chocola and Froggy would prove to him how helpful she could really be. The thirteen year old girl smiled passionately and tucked the paper into the pocket on the side of her dress. She glanced to her side; the 7 year old rabbit, her best friend, smiled anxiously and hugged her tiny blue chao closer to her. On Amy's other side was Big, the kind purple coon cat who was exactly like his namesake.
So, eyes agog, Amy turned her sight back to her pray.
"Gotcha, my Darling Sonic~" she called, grinning at her own antics.
This time, there's no way outta marrying me.
She could be playful and teasing too. After all, this was their little game.
***
He had glanced back at her before running off.
And there was that grin of his, oozing over his senses and she couldn't help but push herself farther, run faster and try to catch up to him. Gazing back was something he never did; it was like he was giving a second thought to running away from her, a second glance at her incoming form and decided that it was okay to continue their game of cat and mouse as long as she was behind him.
She couldn't help but notice that he started off slower this time; was that her imagination running amok again or was he keeping tabs on his speed? Was he not trying to get away?
The rosette damsel grinned wider and tore after him, a blithe glint in her eyes, rose colored quills flying behind her, arms flailing. Her steps, though pointed inwards, were like a well oiled machine. This was her favorite game, her favorite past time. Her hobby, which she was well practiced at.
She was determined to win the game. Amy wanted the high score.
No matter what the cost.