Work Text:
“I thought these pretty little things make you sneeze and hack like a poor little kitten?” Rouge teases, hovering lightly as she observes Knuckles gently (too gently) pluck another flower from a large bushel. The deep fuchsia things clash with the Echidna’s quills, in her opinion.
Said Echidna only rolls his eyes, sniffling a little to punctuate his reply. “They do,” he starts, placing his large stack into his waiting basket, toppled to the brim with flora. “… but they are crucial for the eclipse.”
Touching down, Rouge pops her lips playfully as she follows him closely, eyeing his strong hands work to be delicate. She looks up at him, his poor, red-rimmed eyes and runny nose, tries not to melt. Really, he is the death of her. “I think your ancestors can forgive leaving a few itchy flowers in the ground.” Rouge tries, wondering if she has anything to ease his discomfort.
Knuckles only shrugs, promptly placing his bursting basket down to begin another stack. “I won’t sacrifice tradition because I have allergies to one flower.” Knuckles barely has time to finish his sentence before his lungs erupt in a brief but disturbing coughing fit. It only lasts a moment, but Rouge has to pace herself to avoid touching him.
Now, Rouge wins many, most of her fights. A select few she has lost and most of those losses were unfortunate circumstances where even her quick wit was not enough. Begrudgingly, Rouge has to admit that many of these verbal losses occur between she and one particular Guardian. Of course, she can get under his skin very, very easily, but Knuckles has a way of turning her head to mush sometimes, and chaos, in those moments she cannot win an argument with him to save her life.
This may, or may not, be one of those moments.
But only because the sun is hitting his face just right. It is basically cheating.
She swallows, crouching down to fiddle with a small crowd of unpicked dandelions. “And remind me why we are preparing for an eclipse that is not coming?”
At the question, Knuckles pauses, if only for a moment. Rouge sees, notes. His fingers close around a clump of clover, which he wrenches out of the ground a tad harder than necessary. “… It did come, I just…” Taking a deep breath, Knuckles shakes his head, a small, tired smile blooming. “I missed it.” He supplies, as if it were so simple.
Rouge pinches a weed in her fingers, ear flickering when its stem snaps. “I see.” Rouge ponders for a time, allowing Knuckles to carefully return to his work. Knuckles is many things, but forgetful is not one of them. The Knuckles Rouge knows would never simply miss an eclipse, not when he can name every constellation, sun movement, and wind speed with a thought. Not her Knuckles.
She is not sweet, but perhaps she might be, just a little. For him, just a little. So, she is careful, when she asks, “how?” Rouge allows all the sass and knowing leak from her tone, leaving her sound annoyingly real. So very feeling.
He stops, again, and if Rouge spots the subtle shake in his hand as he leans back on his knees, she doesn’t mention it. He breathes in once more, looking sad even beyond the bloodshot of his eyes. “… It occurred last year, in April.” Knuckles answers the question as if it burns, but he holds the blaze well. In her opinion, of course.
That timeline sends Rouges’ brain bursting with thoughts and she feels the unwelcome tightness of anxiety pulling the muscles in her back tight. “Oh,” is all she can manage in the moment, because Rouge doesn’t like to think about April of last year. Or May, June, July.
Cyberspace had him, then. Took him from everyone for so long. Took him from her.
Rouge has never lost so much sleep.
Her palm finds his wrist before she can think to stop it, body trying to confirm his existence in the here and now. She hopes this touch is as grounding for him as it is her.
The wound is fresh, and Knuckles would never complain, not in a way that counts, not in a way that demands justice. But she knows it still hurts. He is the strongest man she knows, perfect defense and even better right hook. It still hurts, anyways.
After a moment, the contact feels stifling, too intimate for both of them, she lets go. “I’m sure your ancestors understand,” she offers, muted and feeling much like a parrot. He only chuckles, small and only for her benefit, but she will take what she can get.
He shrugs after a time. “The eclipse only happens once every four years.” He shakes his head, looking a tad sheepish. “It is one holiday I… favor, over some others.” Knuckles looks away as he speaks, eyes wistful. Rouge admires the pretty markings growing out in the fur of his cheeks.
She allows a small laugh, leaning playfully into his shoulder. “Well, better late than never, gem,” Rouge tries for comforting, though it is not her best form. She observes Knuckles’ form loosen just slightly, bringing a hand up to rub his irritated eyes.
Another flower snaps from the earth. “The stars will have to do for this year.” He replies simply, gently placing his prize in the crook of his arm.
Sitting up to her full height, Rouge tilts her head fondly at her companion, so diligent in a task no one asks of him. She sighs. Getting her hands dirty is something she tries to avoid, but this mess of a boy makes her stupid and sentimental. She brings her hands down to pluck a few choice flowers for herself. “Well, let’s make the most of it, gem.”
____________________
“It’s not right,” Knuckles laments softly, gazing down balefully at the small, colorful gems marked with runes splayed out in front of him. His arms are crossed and he is altogether discontent. Rouge thinks it is adorable.
Gingerly, Rouge takes one if the precious, carved gems, and lets it glisten as she aligns it with the sun. Ah, she will never get tired of that sparkle. She can’t read what the markings say, not the way Knuckles can. “What am I missing here, Knuckie?” She inquires, eyes swirling with awe at the pretty things.
His own eyes remain narrowed at the offending artifacts. “It’s my fault.” He offers instead of an answer.
Rouge rolls her eyes, simply because she knows whatever she is going to hear is undoubtedly irrational. She repositions the jewel. “How so, my dear?”
His hips shift lightly with his stance as he sighs softly, Rouge catches it in the corner of her vision. She takes her eyes off the gem in her hands. “They are supposed to be carved brand new for every new cycle, and then stored away with the others of past cycles.” His fingers clench into fists where he has them crossed, Rouge notes the tension in his back. “I didn’t do it. I should have, but I didn’t.”
Rouge watches his gaze go somewhere else, and something in her chest withers. She releases a heavy breath, careful as she replaces the jewel. “Gem, you were trapped, there is nothing you could have done,” Rouge replies, keeping her tone kind. As kind as a girl like her can manage.
Immediately Knuckles shakes his head in disagreement, turning so he isn’t looking at his runes anymore. His gaze briefly casts over her before finding the ground. “I could have done a lot. I had four years to carve new ones and I just… never did it. I had so much time, and one day I just…” He doesn’t finish. Rouge fills in the blanks.
Trying for a smile, Rouge shrugs as she looks down at the runes. “Well, then these are just different, what’s wrong with that?”
Knuckles sets his jaw, downcast and displeased. “It’s disrespectful, just look at them,” he gestures weakly to the items of the subject. “They’re rushed, sloppy.” His tone becomes harsher and harsher, and Rouge eyes the echidna carefully. Finally, his voice becomes quiet. “Disappointing.”
Really, Rouge does not see it at all. She sees beauty in the ragged edges and the pearlescent shine. The way each character she could never hope to read is etched in with practiced ease. She hasn’t seen the ones done in the past, she doesn’t have any comparison. She huffs, smiling wistfully and tilting her head. “Well, I’d steal em.” She says with a wink, fluttering her wings and scooping a few up into her grip as gravity loses the fight and she hovers from the ground.
Briefly, Knuckles looks alarmed. Old habits, for both of them, obviously. She waits, just a moment, they haven’t done this in a while, and Knuckles is still healing from scarring wounds left on his heart. She is sly and cunning and very good at what she does, but she won’t cross this barrier unless he grants it.
A small, little sigh through his nose, and that perfect, shimmering twinkle in his eye. She catches it. Bingo. Rouge grins wildly.
“In fact…” She adds, tone a mock contemplation as she gains a little more altitude.
Knuckles releases a rumbling growl. A faux threat and they both know it. His lips quiver with the effort to keep from smiling. It makes Rouge incessantly happy in a way that shouldn’t be possible. “Bat-girl…” he warns gruffly, attention fully pulled from the quality of his craftsmanship and carving skills. Rouge laps up to sense of satisfaction like a dog to water.
All she graces him with is a snicker, and a mocking stick of her tongue, before Rouge bats her wings forcefully, propelling herself forward as she challenges the guardian of this place. She has missed this game, whatever it is. They haven’t played in a while, and she knows why. Knows why all of this has happened.
She hears Knuckles grunt behind her as he gives chase, breathing well as he traverses the land while she soars through the air. She can just hear the grin in his voice as he calls to her. He won’t bring up the gems again, she’s certain of it.
Besides, she finds them beautiful, despite whatever he says.
Maybe she should keep them?
____________________
Truthfully, Rouge does enjoy the little things. She is detail-oriented per her profession, but really, she has always been more of a big-picture sort of gal. Her intuition is nearly flawless and when it is not, she does not have to try very hard to get herself out of a jam. So, she doesn’t sweat the small things unless she has to.
But, well.
Well. She is with him, and oh how he loves the small things. His love of twisting the garland just right, traditionally tying his sash, to avoiding the wildflowers wherever he walks. His love and passion seep into her like a sponge to water and all of a sudden, these silly, so, so little things seem important.
She straightens the table liner, two, three times. It is perfect as it is, she knows. No one in the world would care if she left this little wrinkle where it sits against the table.
But, oh, this matters so, so much. To him, it all matters.
Rouge pulls it until no creases are left.
He paces back and forth, a good distance away, Rouge glances down at the elegant spread displayed. Knuckles worked hard as he always does, on the food, the flowers, everything. The least their friends could do is show up.
One might think the fastest thing alive would be able to handle arriving when asked to.
“They’ll be here,” she calls gently across the small clearing, adjusting her dress. It’s rather modest for her taste, but the bright yellow sundress feels appropriate. She does love to look the part.
His body rocks awkwardly where he stops, and she can eye him just barely refrain from plucking a quill from his forearm. He simply must break that habit. His shoulders tense. “I know,” he replies, sharp and more anxious than he likely means to sound. “I know.” He repeats, just loud enough for her to hear. His foot taps a few tedious times before he resumes pacing. “I just don’t want them to miss it,” he explains, and Rouge’s heart pangs. They both know there is nothing to miss.
The sun is just reaching the crest of turning the cornflower blue of the sky to an opalescent pink. The runes resting on the table are already beginning to glisten beautifully. Knuckles has made it clear that the gemstones are supposed to be blisteringly bright under the conditions of the normal eclipse, but since there is no such eclipse taking place, they’ll only shine in the mundane.
Rouge still finds them pretty. Besides, there is only one real reason all of their friends would make the trip up here. She smiles. “They won’t, gem. You know how they are. Besides, it’s in style to be a little late, these days,” Rouges teases with a wink.
The reason sighs, rolling his eyes, swallowing down his smile.
It isn’t too much longer that chaos erupts throughout the clearing. Rouge sits on one of the seating blankets, surrounded by so many different flowers it is a wonder the wind does not send them all flying. Shadow is sitting next to her, sipping on the nice fruit drink Knuckles taught her to make earlier today. She has never heard of the fruit used in her life, but she may have to steal some and force Amy to grow them for her. So delicious…
Espio is suffering through an awkward dance lesson that Knuckles is begrudgingly teaching, something about a promise to Amy. Said hedgehog is happily following Knuckles’ every command. She always manages to lighten his mood, Rouge is grateful.
Sonic is heading some sort of scavenger hunt for the younger members of the party. Cream, Tails, and Charmy are all various levels of excited as the blue blur waves his arms around wildly as he explains. Tails is taking notes, Rouge chuckles fondly.
Vector, Blaze, and Vanilla are enjoying the food both brought and prepared on the island. The tables are nearly overflowing with food. Rouge isn’t sure she has room to even breathe.
Omega and Silver are trying to play cards. Rouge doesn’t have the energy to decipher how they are pulling it off. She doesn’t know if either of them even know how to play any. She respects their attempt to try.
They all look lovely, dressing nicely and painted ornately by their resident Echidna. The paint on her own body feels like a string of ribbon, connecting them all together.
She closes her eyes, takes it all in. The stars aren’t quite out yet, but Amy brought several lengths of fairy lights to hang up around the clearing. It’s pretty, makes it all come together.
“Peaceful,” utters Shadow. She squints one eye open, to see his expression. He looks wistful, a rarity.
“It is,” Rouge replies, shutting her eyes once more.
Sonic says something and Tails’ laugh bounces around the area. Rouge feels her stomach settle kindly.
“He makes you happy,” he says. Rouge doesn’t open her eyes this time.
Inhaling softly, her thumbs brush the flower sitting in her palm. She wonders if she’ll ever give a damn about her treasure the way she gives a damn about this.
“Yes, he does.”
____________
She watches, as she always does, as knuckles’ shoulders lower in that heavy and hurting way. The way that he can never seem to chase away, not fully. Rouge wonders if he ever will.
His eyes look far, far to the stars that don’t shine for him the way he wishes they would. “do you know why I like this holiday? Why I favor it?” He asks, quiet.
Sighing, Rouge's heart putters sadly in her chest. He knows she has no idea, but it’s a gift to get something vulnerable from him, so she plays along. “No, why, dear?”
His eyes turn down to the ground, then to the friends around him. “It came into existence after the cataclysm. After my people were banished to die in the skies.”
And it’s so incandescently hopeless, what a hurting thing. Rouge leans in.
Chest heaving just so, frustrated with his own intruding emotions, Knuckles shakes his head. “I don’t know how I might handle such devastation. Such loss,” releasing a breathless chuckle he smiles. “… but in such pain, they found beauty and hope, somehow. Somehow, they did.”
Cream giggles loudly from where she and Vector play, the noise draws Knuckles’ attention. Rouge watches him. “It just reminds me… there is always more to life.” Rouge observes his hand reach for the crest resting where is always has, bright even in the evening light on his chest. His claws scratch at it, spikes in view when he normally takes such care to keep them wrapped. It feels very intimate to see them now. His words tingle around her ears.
Her body moves on its own, and her digits brush just so across his forearm. the tips of her fingers tingle from the touch, and she decides to be brave, dragging his arm to her lap and clasping both her hands around his, interlocking their fingers. She finds a way to work around the spikes, she enjoys a challenge.
His gaze bores into her, but she does not look up to meet him halfway, instead choosing to trace his pretty markings with her eyes. “I’d take you away from this, in a heartbeat.” She admits, ashamed and determined in the same moment. The sun has set now, soon Knuckles will usher everyone over for the ghost of an event. The runes won’t glow and there will be no spectacular show. Just their friends and the stars. Still.
It all feels so special, anyways.
It’s quiet, and she can tell he is contemplating. “I wouldn’t let you,” he finally says, and Rouge can’t stop her ears from falling sadly. Her chest feels tight as if in mourning, she breathes through it. It is short and shy, but after a moment, she feels Knuckles plant a timid kiss to her temple. Rouges’ heart flutters, like a schoolgirl, not the tough and indomitable beast she is. “… But thank you,” he adds, just above a whisper.
Her lips tug into a smile, remembering her peace. She meets his eyes. Gosh, what to say about those eyes. Who needs an eclipse, or an ancient holiday, when she can see the universe in those beautiful wells? Everyday.
Her body ushers her closer. “Anytime, Starboy.”