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burndownthehousetonight · 8 years ago

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((I recently had the opportunity to do an RP with DawnHedgehog555 over on deviantart, and I am INCREDIBLY happy with the result! He’s honestly kind of in a league of his own, so it’s kind of an honor to have gotten to do this with him. It’s very long, but it’s DEFINITELY worth the read! Really, I can’t stress that enough!))

((This is the SFW version. If you want to read the NSFW version, you can find that here!))

Bass. Snare. Bass. Snare. Manic had been called to his usual downtown recording studio to do some instrumental work for a pair of local soul singers. They were a fairly talented duo, and their compositions were, for the most part, complex and interesting. But as they reached their more downbeat numbers, every drum pattern started melding together. Bass. Snare. Bass. Snare. Almost every single song used the most basic, forgettable drum pattern. He was fine with simple music, but the sheer lack of variety was maddening! Bass, piano, guitar, every other instrument had interesting challenges from song to song. It was disappointing. If it weren't for their vocals, he probably would have gone made. But the male and female voices melded together into a rough, gritty, unpolished, absolutely perfect sound. As though every single bit of vocal fry had been individually manipulated in every song. He leaned back, and let the female vocalist's solo part take over as his hands went into autopilot. Tell me all about your violent history 'Bout your scars and all your little fights 'Violent stories' and 'scar' stuck out especially well in Manic's mind. 'That's something I would've asked him, for sure. Probably did, at some point!' Take me to the marble gardens Gonna have to beg your pardon But I can't wait another night Manic had to suppress his surprise. 'Marble garden...? Nah, she couldn't know. No one knows. Must be some weird euphemism.' And yet, he had to smile a little. Hell, 'a little' nothing, it was a wide, nostalgic grin. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost thing this song was written about one night, only two months after Manic started to date Scourge... But things were different then. He didn't have the masculine build he had today, but instead a svelte, almost feminine body, and a cuter face with full lashes. With the right angle, he could almost look completely feminine. And he didn't have the same mentality his modern day self had, either, with his healthy self image instead replaced by near-crippling self doubt. And most importantly, he didn't have the problems he has with grand theft today, as proven by the fact Scourge and himself were currently breaking into the natural history museum in the famous Marble Gardens. Manic met up with an increasingly impatient Scourge, who had just made a beeline to him from the security office. Scourge was twirling a stolen key around in his hand, his figure covered by a slightly frumpy security uniform. "Hate this thing," he added, patting his body. "Alright, the good news is, the camera's were easy to disable. Bad news, some guards are standing guard right outside the Emerald's room." He pointed at a guests pamphlet. He pretended to be a helpful worker as a mother and her kids walked by. "...and the restrooms should be at the end of the exotic greenhouse, right through here!" They were gone. He started talking quietly again. "I don't know if they'll call me out for not working here, so I need a distraction, baby."

Manic gave a sassy smirk and gestured two closed fingers from his brow, saluting the other with a "Yes sir~" in quite a charming manner. He then turned and peeked around the building, spotting the very uniformed security with their pressed shirts and folded arms over torsos- body language stating, 'don't even think about crossing us!' The teen gave a short tut, "I could distract them easily, depends if they're willing to go for option A or B?" Before Scourge had a chance to ask what either of those ideas entailed, Lime strolled out and casually walked towards them, his long punk do bouncing lightly from each step. Heeled boots echo a clip-clop-clip-clop vibrance along the walls. "Sorry to bother, but I am lost. Me--er go--," he feinted a bad attempt of a foreign accent, playing the cultured individual not fluent in english. "--go, how you say-- lost! And can not find-- er--- the way--" he gestured, playing the facial expressions loosely between concerned and seeking guidance. Honestly, if his job were not of a street thief or vandal, Manic would be a amazing actor.

He saw the guards loosen slightly, taking quick glances at one another and even around, possibly hoping for the nearest museum guide; it was in fortunate luck for the teen's favour, none other seemed to be passing and the security bodies regrettably wandered near. "Go find the reception desk." One offered, trying to make his grunted tone- mainly used for turning back uninvited guests, to a softer or mild approach. They didn't seem quite threatened by a young feminine male with a comical fringe. "Me--er don't understand. What you say?" Manic wildly feinted again, frowning his brows with exaggerated confusion. "Re-cept-ion. Go find re-cept-ion!" "I cannot-- er-- please help! Er--" The rough men began to look frustrated and exhaled rudely- never being the type to actually offer assistance much. The second began to call out around the corridor for a waiting guide; Manic mentally cursed. 'Time for Plan B!' he thought, quickly diving forward and snatching the guards whistle in plain sight. Not the most expensive item, but it seemed to get there attention enough to actually exclaim towards the lime punk and demand he return it. Manic did the opposite and ran, leading them away from the area and crying loudly, "ACDC RULES!!" "Get back here you little-" they chased after him down the room, where Manic did his performing best to create a scene and climb a prop, before blowing the small device and sounding a high pitched shriek of the tool. "Get DOWN! NOW!" "VIDA DA LOCA!!" Manic yelped, thrusting his arms up and taking a chance to look across the museum floor, just catching the glimpse of a green furred mammal creeping out of sight. He figured if he kept this ruckus up long enough, the floor crew would have a tough time noticing a vault door getting unscrewed and the only consequence would be by the end of it, Manic would eventually submit and let himself be thrown out the doors. He just hoped Scourge could manage the haul and actually remember to be back for him. He didn't want to think himself completely dependent on the rugged rascal of crime, but since they were partners- in both scandal and in love (sort of)- it would be most appreciated if the king criminal waited for his return, at least. The prop he was stood on, shook vigorously and he clung to the plastic head of an roman warrior, looking back down at two infuriated security officers and now a manager, both red faced and exclaiming for him to reach floor level. At least he was gaining the right sort of audience, but if this wasn't done with quickly, he feared someone would call the law enforcement and then he was really in it. With a casual grin, he blew his stolen whistle again. When Manic had mentioned that it was an emerald "exhibit", Scourge half expected some kind of a bougie display room. Or was it all the advertising that made him think that? Either way, he didn't expect to walk in and find a room with many, many photos of the emerald, the large vault protecting the emerald, and no way to actually view it. No cameras on it, no foot-thick sheets of glass to look through... just a vague promise that the emerald was supposed to exist inside. But Scourge knew, and maybe Manic would, too. Scourge's hedgehog body was keen to every little vibration of Chaos energy in the natural world. There was definitely SOME kind of energy coming from the other side of that vault door, and nothing else could be so strong. He rubbed his hand, as though he wasn't merely going in for the sake of greed. As though he was starving without this emerald near. As though he needed this to survive. The guards could only be entertained for so long before they caught wise or they called for some kind of backup. Three, maybe four minutes, tops, he'd give it. Right in, right out, there was no time to waste. Hell, if Manic's plan had been run through with, Scourge wouldn't be able to crack off enough bolts to break in. Luckily, this wasn't Scourge's first time making such a large heist. Hell, not even his first time going after one of the emeralds! But that was another story. All he needed was some kind of a sound- FWEEEEEEEEEE! The whistle drew on longer than he expected... just perfect. In an instant, he had punched 1341484 into first electronic lock. Manic showing off his screaming vocals was enough for him to dial 72-42-39 into the grand dial lock. How had he come across this information? He had many, many friends who were more than willing to 'persuade' the information out of anyone who just so happened to know what they needed to know. And of course, they knew there would be some simply terrible consequences if the information they were given happened to be incorrect in any way. And yet for just a brief moment as he spun the dial, he couldn't shake a few tinges of... guilt? Was that guilt? Manic had been trying his hardest to stop him from hurting anyone he said didn't deserve it, but he was instrumental in this plan. Scourge already said he wouldn't hurt anyone, but here he was. If this was anyone else, he would have brushed it off, but there was something different here. If Manic had known what Scourge did to get that information... He was more than capable of moving a massive vault door. He only pushed it open far enough for him to squeeze his way in. Manic insisted the theft take place ten minutes before close. At any other time, someone surely would have walked in on him by now. "Bloody dark..." He turned on a small flashlight. There, sitting in the center of the room was the fist-sized chunk of purple emerald he was dying to get his hands on. He could tell what it was, even though it was dark as hell and his eyes hadn't adjusted. And from under his hat, he pulled out a fist-sized chunk of purple leaded glass. Same cut, same size, and made to have the exact same iridescence and sparkle. Without his connection to Chaos energy, no one would be able to tell it was a fake. He was barely shy of his three minute estimation, but he made it. The chaos emerald was under daddy's control again. As he turned, he couldn't help but notice some of the other little trinkets in the room. There were tables covered in scattered geodes, raw gemstones, even a few cut rocks here and there! If Manic was in charge of this heist, his grabby little hands would have been in paradise. He paused. "What's this punk doing to me..." Maybe he wanted to buy his way closer to him? Who could say. He dashed to the closest selection, and grabbed a handful. He didn't have the time or space to grab more than maybe a dozen. He didn't need to. He had his emerald. As he strolled out, he was almost disappointed by how simple the theft went. Right in, right out, and those dumb guards were still obviously struggling with Manic. He didn't have to struggle with the vault, he didn't have to do anything other than a bit of camera damage and a little sneaking. Maybe he wanted a little excitement, but he couldn't complain. The job was simple. Very, very simple... With a quick hand, he pulled out the emerald again, and gave it a good, hard once-over. It was almost invisible... almost. But right at the base was a single wire, even thinner than a hair, almost the same color as the rock... He couldn't tell exactly what this meant, but he knew this stone was a fake, and the wire surely meant someone already knew something had happened. He looked back at the vault. He didn't have the time to open the door, put the emerald back, and run. There were no displays or places to hide the emerald even these dumb guards wouldn't look. He had no choice but to carry the emerald with him and ditch it at the first chance. He only stayed just near enough for Manic to see him, and just long enough for him to read his frantic lips; "S.O.S. GET TO THE CONVERTIBLE NOW"

Manic didn't need no second warning.

"Whoops! Look at the time- got to go!" he ushered, throwing the whistle away from him and actually hopping upon the head of the guard with one foot before skipping off, tucking and rolling across the polished marble floor towards the exit.

Of course, a few chased him in retort; Lime grasped a display stand, scattering the contents behind him to lose them off his track, (and hopefully send one slipping into a pile beside the next). His heels clip-clopped quickly across the floor and he pushed out the swing rotating door, just as a black and fire streaked van skidded up beside the foot path and Scourge threw open the door, yelling at him to 'get in!'

Without hesitation, he jumped in the seat just as the wheels rotated and roared the engine down the side road, into the main.

"Ye-HA!" The teen yelped happily with glee, "Did you see their faces! We were a riot! And we're rolling in money, baby! That emerald is as good as--" he spun round, seeing the other's expression, despite focusing on the road ahead.

"We did get it, didn't we? Scourge?!" Manic exclaimed, suddenly looking panic stricken, "What happened? Did it go right?" 'We were set up.' was the only grunt from the other's mouth, whilst twisting the wheel hard right and accelerating down the interstate. Manic frowned in worry.

"Set up?! What the fuck do you mean, we were set up?! The fuck happen?!" he yelped, grasping Scourge's shoulder. The emerald coloured brute shrugged him off, trying to drive them through the slip stream flow of cars and large vehicles. "Oh great!! Fantastic!! We were 'watched'?! By who?! This was a tight end job! In and out-- how the fuck did-- could it go wrong?! Who set us up?" His boot kicked at the glove box, breaking the lid open in his fury. He scratched his slender fingers through his pretty locks, becoming frustrated and confused. How?! Scourge and him had been planning this for days since they heard of the emerald show casing the following week. They had told no one about it. NO ONE was to know.

Except what if his partner accidentally let slip some gossip on a night out, drinking his fill until his legs wobbled and his brain was so stupidly blurred beyond logic, that standing on a deck chair and shouting aloud, 'I'm King of all you Bastards' seemed reasonably logical to the green rogue, whilst Lime sighed and face palmed softly in a corner.

"You didn't tell Joe at that stupid bar one night did you?!" Manic accused, pointing a peach digit at the driving hog, "Because I know what you're like when you get plastered, Scourge! You open you're fat gob and sprout stupid shit about your ego! I've seen you!" The vehicle made a quick sharp jut forcing the lime teen to topple over backwards; Scourge was quite a spiteful git when he wanted to be. "Did you really need to do that?!" Manic yelped, straining himself back up and pulling his ample weight back in the chair.

The van drove under a long deep tunnel, passing the flickering overhead lights that reflected like neon casino vegas on the window screen. Scourge shot an icy glare in his direction, telling him fiercely his answer, 'No, I did not!'

"Then how were we set up, because I sure as fuck didn't tell nobody!" Lime scoffed, "And what about the emerald then?! What happened to that?!"

"I don't KNOW!" Scourge couldn't help but scream. "It's just a rock! It's just a STUPID ROCK!" Scourge reached under his uniform, and pulled out the 'emerald'. He handed it over to his partner. "There's something... There's some kind of electronic... Some wiry shit in there!" Manic had to squint to see anything. The wire almost camouflaged perfectly with the emerald... almost. Manic gave him a shocked glare, which Scourge immediately knew meant, 'Why do you still have it?!' "Give it." He said through clenched teeth, holding out his hand. His digits were already curled and turning white at the knuckles. Manic gave it over reluctantly. "HhheeeeEEAAAAAAAH!" With a desperate war cry, Scourge flung it out of the drivers side window. It hit the front bumper of a passing truck, immediately shattering the fake emerald into many tiny pieces, denting the truck, and likely forcing the driver to stop. Sure, it was good in the moment... But Scourge knew what this mean. "Whoever's watching it will probably put shit together." He could feel his anger starting to boil, but now fueled by immediate regret and paranoia. "They'll know that mess is that fake emerald, we gotta get out of here!" There was a highway interchange up ahead. Perfect. Now, which direction would someone thing they wouldn't be going down...? Manic made some kind of a clicking sound, as though to ask, 'so what happened?' So Scourge started his story. "Look, I got in there, and there were a bunch of rocks and shit, but there's that emerald right in the middle on it's own stand, right? So I grabbed that one and-" Far too late in the game, a light bulb went off for Scourge. He threw down his hat, revealing a pile of maybe ten or eleven scattered crystals and cut stones. "The emerald's a fucking fake cause the real emerald was hidden with all those other rocks! It was right there, they played us like a bunch of idiots!" Scourge was pissed at the museum for outsmarting him, that fake emerald for tracking him, and himself for not putting it together. "Shit, dude, we might still have it! Is it in there?!" They were all gorgeous rocks. Gorgeous, powerless rocks of no other note Manic was sure to love anyways. Scourge pounded on the steering wheel, causing a honk of his horn he didn't expect. "DAMNIT!" They had finally gotten to their new detour, some highway not quite avoiding the city, but not really driving towards it, either. Neutral enough that no one would use it to escape, and no one would use it to drive back to the gardens... a completely unnoteworthy stretch of road. So they sat there, and thought. "Punk, I'm-" Scourge rubbed his face in his hand. "You ain't hurt, right? I just get so... FUCK!" He pounded on the dashboard again. "Get some music playing, kid."

Manic scoffed and exhaled, slouching forward to click on the radio; it crackled to life, tuning in to static white noise. He twiddled the dial a couple of times, flickering past news outlet and dorky tones, before finally resting on a reasonable quality station expelling heavy drum and bass guitar solos. A little heavy metal to chill to.

"Happy?" he sassed softly, glancing at Scourge out the corner of his eye; the rogue was drooped over his steering wheel, silently contemplating their previous disadvantages. Lime rolled his auburns and shifted up, twisting his body to walk between the two front seats and sneak into the back.

The interior of the van was decked up with bedding, a radio and posters, with magazines and cd cases scattering the bunk shelves. He fell on a bean bag in the corner and sighed heavily, tilting back his head lazily.

"I get it... plan went to bust.." He moved his head to the side, peeking towards the gap at the front, "So.. Plan B then?" He only heard the other shift and grumble, a defiant hint that his co-partner didn't wish to even discuss the next phase.

Well, not yet anyway. Guitar chords wail in the backdrop, followed by a few skips of the cymbals. Sounded like ACDC stuff.

Manic pulled up a magazine and immaturely flipped through the pages, huffing from his lips in exasperated boredom.

"Total fucking flop... so I guess those other trinkets won't sell for much then?"

'Basically, more or less..' Scourge finally muttered, sitting up to rub his face. "How's this for a suggestion?" Manic asked, chucking the paper book over his shoulder and hopping back up onto his cuban bolt boot heels, stepping casually towards the curtains that separated the driver side from the sleeping quarter, "Let's say the museum got smart ass on us and did hide the original emerald somewhere else- maybe like another vault or another museum. How about we do a little chit-chat with the locals, gather some knowledge and hack around for the right sort of info?”

He lightly pat the other's shoulder, possibly as a means of 'encouragement', and gave a faint smirk, showing off his pretty face.

"We can't give up and turn tail now? Hey- at the same time, we could scope out who snitched on us and give them the ol' left and right, you know what I mean? How you call it-- a knuckle sandwich?.. Er.. something like that?" He shrugged. He watches the older rugged hedgehog sigh thickly, his scarred torso rising and falling slowly; the lime teen was always slightly impressed by Scourge's physique - strong yet agile. He secretly liked to look at him when the rogue was undressing or simply reaching, just to seek the sight of those curves and biceps. It was probably wrong to crush on another guy- especially his co-partner- in this way.

Manic often considered their interactions lately seemed much more familiar on good terms than normal, compared to how they first met.

It took a great amount of will power to force the fingerless gloved hand of naked peach fingers to clench back and refrain from wanting to cup or caress the stubs of emerald fur on the ruffled forehead.

The teen instead pressed his palm to his spiked collar neck, awkwardly massaging his tendons.

"Okay.. you quit moping yet?" he quirked, "If it'll cheer you up, we could go to that club downtown and ask your old friend for advice? .. or just get a drink?"

Scourge could have been certain that they would have just kept it with the other gems. There wasn't any other reason to keep all those rocks in there...! No, he would have seen the glow. It was a last-minute desperate hope, he knew that. He was trying to cling to his own stupid theory. "It was real close," He finally grumbled. "Real close. I could feel all that energy. There wasn't anything else in that vault, too." "And the real exhibit-" "A bunch of photos." Scourge interrupted. "A bunch of stupid photos and information. There wasn't even a case, just some empty displays with pictures." He laughed a little. Just a little, of course. Only letting himself smile for a moment. "Those rich bastards who go into those places are so stupid. Who'd pay for that garbage?" He returned to his slouch as he turned back towards the city. For once, the slouch didn't seem to be from some kind of pissiness, but deep thought. "You got those floor plans, right? What's around that room? Where else could it be? So Manic scoured through the back for the building floor plans. It wasn't even that detailed, the job seemed so simple, so small details were missing here and there. The vault and special display room were near the back of the museum, with the only surrounding rooms being a long hallway and some large "flora" exhibit. All kinds of plants or whatever. A complete waste of time and money. "Nah, I didn't feel it in there... Maybe it's in the basement. Or hidden under the floor... I don't know." Scourge finally admitted he didn't know something. Bass. Snare. Bass. Snare. Some new song started up with an embarrassingly simply drum pattern. He would have complained, if Manic didn't press his quills away again when he turned to look at him. He always pressed them in the same way, showing off his weirdly cute face. It wasn't anything intentional, but it could catch Scourge by surprise. Did Manic know that? No, he was just messing with his hair, of course not. Still, he wasn't completely ignorant to all the little peeks and looks Manic would give him. Mostly, but not completely. Was he interested, or was it all in his head? "We're heading downtown." Scourge finally broke the silence. "We need some advice bad. They've got it somewhere, and they're probably gonna make it a bitch to get past security." Neither of the two had any idea what the museum would have in store next, but they did know one person who always seemed to be one step ahead. That old friend of Scourge's would probably be at some club Manic seemed eager to go to. They said to check out a club called the 505, although it was a fifty-fifty shot of them actually being there. That's how it always was. Scourge was slowly letting his grip on the wheel loosen... slowly. As they pulled up to what looked like a poorly maintained club, the two were curious what advice they'd get, if any. Curious if the news of a break in had gotten out. And even just curious what this damn place would be like.

Once cuban spiked heels and bolt black boots step through the murky carpet of the club, they were met with thick bass volumes that vibrated through the walls, and the misty stage fumes, almost intoxicating their lungs. Manic's ear studs twinkle in the strobe laser lights, causing his ear lobe to glitter more than usual.

The two shift and push through the gabble of crowd; rowdy bodies staggering and loosely humping against them, mainly sweated due to the amount of physical movement, and judging from a few exhilarated faces, some were expelling due to vast doses of CHB.

Scourge almost got tussled by a female cat, off her head on dust and smiling what she supposed was a charming pout, instead made her look deranged. He easily swayed her off him to fall on another crowd and drunkly wander pass a seat stand, toppling the chair over. Manic had only peeked the incident and merely rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her behaviour; truthfully, he wasn't one to talk, having had a drink or two himself, but at least he kept his dignity the following morning. There was a likely chance she'll lose it down the toilet. The rogues approached a large dark male bull- the stereotypical tight black vest showing off biceps and stern attitude set on his face- by a doorway hatch and Lime gestured a wave, giving a charming smirk, "We'll here to see a friend~"

"No one allowed past this door. VIP only." the bull grunted, actually snorting from his nostrils, "Clear off!"

Lime scoffed and dug around for his evidence, flashing a card. It was a little dirtied and crumbled but still clearly showed the name and number of their "friend" in clear italic writing, "There! We're no strangers."

The buffalo inspected the note, huffing thickly before squinting beady dark eyes at them both, "And him?"

Here, the teen brushed his quills and chortled, "Oh come on- you know him!" He poked a thumb in Scourge's direction; the green rogue stood casually with hands in his jacket pockets, smoking a drag whilst the neons flickered prettily over his shade lenses, "Don't play dumb! Just let us in- it's urgent!"

The gruff male studied them both, twitching a brow at the remark; he stared at the emerald leather hog especially, possibly figuring out from previous meets at this very club how familiar he was. "I heard about you.." the bull rumbled, standing firmly over Scourge, "You better not start something again like last time?"

"He won't." Manic urged, stepping between the two as he sensed the hedgehog crick his neck and crack a knuckle, "Deal?"

Grumpy scoffed, leering suspiciously for a moment, and then eventually tilted his thick horned head, evidently hinting for them to dash upstairs.

"Thank you~" Manic offered a smile, flirting his gaze and giving a nod to his co-partner. Scourge lead first; Manic hung back to slyly pickpocket the arrogant bull without so much as a nudge. He had improved the craft after a while; the bull went back to standing, staring dully over the staggering and head bashing individuals still jiving to the heavy snare-bass-wail. Green and Lime climbed the narrow red carpet steps to the second floor, and pushed the door open, greeted to a much less crowded room; the door shut with a clank behind them, instantly shutting out the thuds. The teen offered a smirk and peeked the stolen merchandise to the other, quietly chuckling before stashing it away. Around them was tapestry and awkward rich sofas, illuminated in darkened orange glows from the bedside lamps; a couple on a bedsit were slouched comfortably but separate, one mink and a squirrel, both skinny and wide eyed at the ceiling, amongst as if they could see something extraordinary in the top wall. Smoke fumes thickly clouded the air; Scourge exhaled his drag and stepped out his cigarette on the tainted rug.

"Come on.." Manic uttered, leaving the first room and walking down the corridor to the next; as they passed doors, they saw females mammals clad in skimpy outfits caressing the males or each other, and inhaling from a bong of liquid, bubbling the substances.

Deeper in, they see couples kiss and hump, or loners tighten belts on their arms before sucking the needles up with the heated spoons.

"Ugh.. this place is the pits.." Lime muttered under his breath, peering with disgust from doorway to door.

One panel was locked but wailing moans subtly filter from the door hinge holes- he heard an amused scoff from his partner.

"Oh give over! You're such a childish pervert..." the teen stopped just before a larger oak wood panel, leaning against the bark, "...anyway, what are we gonna tell 'him'? The truth? Or shall we let the ol' boy spill some beans... either way, we're fucked, right?"

The rooms they'd walked through felt completely unnatural. The few other creatures middling about were either trained for their lurid jobs to the point where any remnants of personality had been scrubbed clean, or shot up with strange chemicals that altered their minds and bodies in horrifying ways. The gorgeous furnishings were stained with years and years of bad decisions only hidden by strange glows that would have felt warm, but the lack of natural light made them feel harsh and imposing. But behind that door was an otherwise fairly normal office. Elegant furniture cleaned lovingly and regularly, with welcoming lights and an absolutely terrifying gentleman at the center of it all. The fact it was at the back of a club like this colored it in shades of terror few people would dare go near. "It was a set up..." He tried to think of the plan that would be the least risky move for them. He spoke very, very quietly, hoping desperately he wouldn't hear what they were saying. "So we've gotta figure out how it was set up." The two stared at the floor, trying desperately to think clearly in the disgusting atmosphere. "I know it was in there," Scourge said. "I could feel it. It must have been in the basement, right?" There was no basement to the museum. They both knew that. HE definitely knew that. "There weren't no wires in all those photos, they had the real thing somewhere, so where the hell did they hide it?! It wasn't those other rocks." Scourge thought desperately, trying to come up with any explanation for where it could have been hidden. The other gems around the room didn't glow. Nothing aside from the fake emerald was glowing. There were no drawers or lock boxes in the safe. It was impossible for it to have been in the safe, but he knew it must have been somewhere in there. Those surges of energy vibrated through every fiber of his being; It was right there, and he managed to miss it. He scratched his head and really tried his hardest to come up with SOME explanation. "Was it hidden inside of the stand, under the floor, what the fuck did they do?!" Had they been planning for a thief who could just happen to feel chaos energy? No, because Scourge was the only one who fit that description, and only three people knew their plans. Manic, himself, and- creeeeeak Manic stumbled forward, and scourge even paced back a step as the door opened just a creak. There was no speech or formalities, but they knew to enter. The ever-so-slight bass vibrations combined with the already filthy aura to make the bizarre invitation further in somehow terrifying. They paused for just a moment, but Scourge would never admit to the tiny amounts of fear stopping him. "Let me lead," he commanded. Manic almost seemed to be angry, but if Scourge messed up, then it wouldn't be his fault. The inviting-seeming appearances seemed to make the room just ooze with discomfort. It technically seemed well designed to some ignoramus like Scourge, but everything was slightly tilted, slightly off-center, slightly discolored. The room was much colder than any other room in the club and as silent as a crypt, with the only sound a ticking clock moving far, far slower than any clock ever should. Even the architecture of the room was very slightly askew and distorted, mixing with even the tiniest details to make every inch of the office invoke the primal terror that this place should not exist. And of course, here waiting for them was the only being that could actually use a room like this. He was grinning from ear to ear, a plastic unnatural grin that, like every other emotion, almost never displayed his true thoughts. He stood up, walking very slowly towards the pair... ...passed between the two at a strangely close distance... ...and closed the door, making sure that it was timed so the closing click wouldn't be covered by the out-of-time clock. He took a long, agonizing walk to his desk. "Well, boys," he started, "Where is my emerald?" There was a disturbing pause as the waited for Scourge to speak, with this unnatural creature never changing his face even a twitch. "It was a set up. The emerald's gone." Scourge bleated out, putting on his toughest voice to try and ignore the strange discomfort of the room he was in. "Gone? Why, it sounded like it was right there, and you boys just didn't grab it~" "I snagged the emerald right in-" "FAKE." The word shot out of his mouth at a splitting volume, no build-up or warning. He immediately went back to his normal speaking tone as soon as Scourge was quiet. "Fake emerald, Scourge. Why, what about those 'other rocks' you mentioned?" Scourge wasn't completely stupid. He reached under his jacket, pulling out one of the clusters of crystals he'd nabbed on his little impromptu heist. "Most of 'em looked like this. Any cut ones were too small to carry that much power, and none of them glowed or felt right, neither. It wasn't there." "Well, where is it?" His anger was suddenly very reserved, although they knew it wouldn't last. "I'm sure if you could feel it, you could have felt it out." "It must have been somewhere... Somewhere...! It was impossible!" Scourge was now screaming in frustration. It looked as though he really was racking every corner of his mind, trying desperately to figure out where it MIGHT have been hidden. He was so close, and it slipped through his grip...! Manic knew that if he kept talking like this, he would screw them both over big time. If he wasn't stopped now, they might be lucky to leave with their necks.

"Quite obviously, we were duped~" Manic attempted to charm, hoping nobody noticed the small sweat drop on his muzzle from his present nerves, "and the emeralds location was more complicated than we imagined-" "That's no excuse." The creature purred, stepping over towards his desk and turning his back on the two, "You were to recover that emerald. You said you're plan was full proof, and that turned out to be a very likely mistake." Lime gulped faintly, twitching his gaze towards his green co-partner and back towards the darkly male ahead, "Well it could of worked.. we just-"

"FAIL!" The boss suddenly bellowed, echoing around the room, before setting in his red leather rich chair and curling spidery fingertips against one another, "..but I'm willing to offer you a second chance. Retrieve the chaos emerald tonight, in the dead of night, even if it kills you.. but if you return without it.. then don't bother showing your faces here ever again.. understood?" Both the teen thief and criminal rogue reluctantly nod, grimacing with hidden distaste. "FUCK!" Manic screamed, kicking a trash can across a alley path behind the club block building; the dull thumping of the bass still resident within.

He furiously punched the brick wall, hurting his hand and waved his hand, hissing with sharp pain, "THE HELL!? NOW WHAT?!" He turned around, peering towards Scourge.

The green male hadn't said much since they slandered out the head boss's door, wandered along the druggie corridor and shoved through the sweaty bodies of the intoxicated mad citizens, fueled by the music and quite obviously, speed. "Tonight?! He wants that emerald by tonight?! How?! That museum will be crawling with guards and security! They'll have cctv cameras everywhere, watching and waiting for guys like us to try that shit again! We won't have a chance, and even if we get in, there's still a chance that we'll get caught whilst escaping because even that is fucking difficult-- oh god..." Manic paused, clasping his clammy palm to his forehead, "..that's it. We have no choice.. we get it and risk imprisonment or don't and risk.."

He lost his voice not even wanting to describe what could happen next.

"Oh god, how did we get involved in this bullshit?! How?! Can't we just leg it!? Surely that smug prick couldn't track us down, I mean, we're the best!" He chuckled, but it was mainly for delusional confidence. They probably didn't have a hope. "This is crazy! We don't have to do anything for that mad bastard, let's-- let's -- let's run away! Just you and me! Let's go to Brazil or Hawaii!? No-- Vegas! We could get rich quick and then hire a plane and leave the country!! Ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!" The lime teen appeared quite paranoid by now and clawed anxiously at his hair, ruffling his quills messily; his panting becomes heavy and fast, making him dizzy, hot and then cold. He wobbled on his legs and almost fell against the wall.

Scourge had seen this too many times. Him panting for dear life, grabbing at his hair, nearly having a total breakdown. Total, crippling fear. Scourge shouldn't have to help him, he wasn't some doctor or his mom or anything. He should have been fine leaving him there to crumple into a ball, like any of his other partners in crime. But just like the last few times, he wasn't. "Kid." Manic kneeled down at Manic's body, now shivering and sitting against the brick wall of the building. He relaxed his left arm on his legs, and put his right over Manic's shoulder, supporting himself on the harsh bricks. "You know we can't do that, but you gotta at least pretend you're confident. We ain't gonna survive if we can't think. We've still got time to do something, it's..." Scourge looked at his arm. He was wearing an expensive, stolen watch he'd had for a few months now. "Alright, it's ten now, right? Gimme a sec." Scourge pulled out his phone for a moment. "Sunrise is at seven. Tonight's the next nine hours. That's nine hours to make Finny happy, we ain't gonna give up yet." Manic looked at him like he was crazy. How was he calm?! He looked like he was vaguely bored, not facing a serious situation that was probably going to end with either, or even both of them getting-! Scourge didn't see anything similar. Manic's breathing was ragged, his hair was suddenly a mess, and his face had gone red from a mix of anger and fear. It even looked like there were tears in his eyes, but Scourge didn't say anything. He just stared him in the eye, and put his hand on the shoulder of his vest. No his bare skin, just his clothes. "Let's get to the car," he said, pulling what looked like a speck of brick off of his forehead. "You're getting covered in crap." Scourge backed away, and waited for him to stand on his own time. He knew this wasn't going to snap him out of his anxiety or anything, but what else was he supposed to do. Manic shivered subtly as they walked to the van, with Scourge following close by to make sure he wasn't going to have a total breakdown. He lead him into the van, and stepped into the driver's seat. "Let's get something going, I need to think." He turned on the car just to listen to the same station they used before. Manic was at least trying to calm down, maybe some music could distract him from his mortal fear for just long enough for them to come up with something. He shivered and bit at his hands, but he didn't turn off the radio. Normally, he liked listening to the drum lines, and the drums here were pretty boring by his standards. Scourge tried, at least. "So let's figure this shit out." Scourge wasn't exactly the brains of the operation, but Manic wasn't in any position to come up with anything. "We've gotta find a way to get the chaos emerald in nine hours. The museum's gonna be swarming with cops. They'd remember how you distracted them." It was a clumsy move, but maybe it could get a nervous laugh out of him at least. He slapped his shoulder and flashed his smile. "God, you got 'em good. Can you believe how dumb they were?" He didn't see any change in Manic's expression. Maybe he was just determined to stay grumpy. "But we ain't gonna get in there, we ain't getting that emerald, and we ain't getting shot tonight." Scourge rubbed his chin. "Lemme look something up again, kid." He motioned towards the radio. "Just don't freak out, I think I'm onto something." He spent maybe three or four minutes looking through pages on his phone. It was almost an unbearably long wait. "You were on to something." Scourge said abruptly. "Vegas is a while away, but you know what's an hour and a half away from us?" He flashed his phone, showing a flyer for the 'Carnival Nights Casino and Resort.' Scourge pulled the car out of park, and started driving. "We ain't gambling, but you know, I've been there a few times. My old girl, Fiona? Remember her? She found me a lot of jobs through that place. It's a real pretty place. And you know what's in some glitzy room on the top floor of the casino?" He stared Manic down as they drove off onto the highway. "There's this stand right in the center with a ton of light and glittery crap around it. It looks just like that stand from the safe in the vault. Right down to having a chaos emerald on display." Scourge sped up the car as they moved into the left lane, looking out at the highway. He had that same smug grin he got whenever he thought he was clever. "He just wants us to get a Chaos Emerald. It don't have to be the one that museum's got~"

He was subtly glad Scourge was taking charge for once, although mildly disappointed at himself for having a small panic attack; as they exited the car, looking up at the bright glittering neons lights and the eerie stage show colours around the exterior, Manic gave a deep exhale, and rubbed his brow.

No, he didn't have time to have stupid panic attacks or dramatic frenzies about their lost goal; he was always the optimistic one, despite the off handed sarcastic comments and crude language. Lime stepped up beside the other, sighing heavily, "Okay... you made a point. And obviously you have a likely plan, I'll agree... whether it'll work or not.."

He faintly gulped, thinking back to what the creepy mobster suggested at the club house, before instantly shaking his head of quills and forcing his mental thoughts not to go to their dark spaces. "Nope. This has to work, I'm certain! We just need to be... er what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Direct?" Scourge offered as a dry grunt, gazing his icy blues at the slim teen.

Manic gestured his finger in a circular motion, "Yeah, something like that.." He gave apologetic browns towards the green rogue, but was casually shrugged off; Scourge already understood his reasons for his behaviour, and thankfully, Lime didn't need to explain himself.

He was grateful to have this kind of kinship with the rugged hedgehog, and they didn't have to be mushy about it. Eventually, they wandered towards the door, and without question the door man let them pass, peeking a worried glance at the taller emerald brute; Scourge had really earned a rep over the years, especially around this side of town. Manic simply gave a facade of his charming smile and wiggling fingertips as a flirtatious wave, following his partner inside.

Bolt buckle heels and heavy black boots trump and clop on the half plasterboard and slightly frayed red carpet, that appeared to have not been changed in several years, towards the dimly lit hall of the casino. It wasn't like Vegas; where as the lights would of been blinding, and the room brightly lit was colour and shine, whilst assorted types of people, from cut out copies of James Bonds in Tuxedos and the mafia in sharp suits rolling dice over the chip boards, or shuffling cards, or perhaps the late one night stands, wandering up to the slot machines and hoping to get lucky that evening on five dollar notes. It was nothing like that. Certainly, there were tables for card decks and poker chips, and a few slot boxes, but the less than vast room was mainly musky with smoke fumes and condensed lights, giving a dim ominous glow; on one corner stood a drinks bar, many of the stools and tables occupied with groups of rogues and suspicious mobians, clutching their drink glasses and staring down into the contains as if picturing the faded essence of their innocence wash away.

Many sat between the poker surfaces, counting cards and chips; one rogue never stopped stacking his chips, re-counting them, despite nobody else was sat beside him. The downtown casinos were usually like this; murky, darkened and portrayed with a heavy atmosphere of musk and deviant.

Basically, if anyone strolled in proclaiming 'let's be mellow and have a good game tonight!~' there was a good chance every resident would rise from their table and shoot individual bullets through the crashers brain, splattering the wall. They only time the tables were clear, was either after hours, or if someone cried, 'police!' and the dogs would run, sweeping through the surfaces like a hurried storm, before leaving the area clear like the after disaster of a hurricane. Manic and Scourge had often played a few of these tables, and shared the cuts of their shares after scamming each guy out of his hard earned cash.

A few eyes looked at Scourge before quickly turning away for fear or continued to side stare simply out of awe; Scourge had a hard reputation.

Manic on the other hand received favourable glances, obviously drawing eyes to his noticeable curves and posture, before seeking the charmingly pretty face, or other moments, confusion- the cog works of the crooks trying to recon whether Manic was male or female. The two approached the bar, Scourge taking the lead and hinting the saucy barmaid over; she had thick mascara and glossy lipstick on her lips, emphasising she was quite a tarty yet confident woman, although Rouge never appeared the sort of female you would like to cross if you attempted not to tip her or tried to sneak in her till. She curled her lip into a sly smile and fluttered her long lashes, "Hello boys~ Haven't seen you around here for a while?~ What can I do for you?~" she lightly played with the green rogue’s leather collar of his jacket, teasing him as she usually did towards her guests.

Manic silently cringed, a little envious but did not show it.

Normally, Scourge would have been willing to take plenty of time to try and go further with Rouge, but tonight was different. Every minute spent doing anything else was a minute wasted. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure that Rouge was even as 'social' as she seemed. Sure, she would flirt and kiss her way to information and anything she wanted, but he'd never seen anyone get more than a peck on the cheek from her. Well, not exactly. He did remember her taking the time to pull in a certain echidna for a long, loving kiss, but he couldn't even say if that was for herself or just to get her closer to the Master Emerald. Maybe she wasn't even interested in anyone in that way... "You know I like it when you touch me like that, but that's gotta wait for later." Scourge was still putting on a flirty grin in the hopes there was some chance she wanted him in the way that she didn't want anyone. "We have to take care of something tonight, and only the best will do. Besides," He said, giving Manic a teasing nudge, "there are kids present. Don't want him to see us-" Manic gave him a firm punch to the shoulder, jolting him to shut up without ever losing his smile. Rouge saw a few flickers of jealousy fleck through his face. He was a great actor, certainly, but Rouge was more calculating than she seemed. These two always needed her help, and they always came through for her little fascination with gems. If they wanted something, maybe a little extra flirting would get her a bigger incentive. "Kid?" She said, slowly walking down to his lime-colored companion. "Don't tease him, he certainly looks like a real man to me~" She ran her hand over his face, holding her face slightly closer to his and giving him a better angle to see her chest. Manic's skin turned a clashing shade of red. There were many rogues who were visibly jealous of how friendly she got with Manic, most of all Scourge. She didn't need to look to know that. What she did see was a very real discomfort in Manic's face. He pretended like he enjoyed it, but only pretended. For once, a man was averting his eyes from Rouge's body. She smirked as she realized just where those bits of jealousy were coming from. She should have guessed from how he treated his partner in crime... "It isn't like you two to resist me," Rouge purred, glancing over the others at the bar. Sure, they weren't going to halfway good enough to do anything even if they wanted, but she wanted to get out of there quickly. "You two in some kind of trouble?" "Too much," Scourge said. He may as well cut straight to the point. "Our boss is putting us through hell." Rouge had heard enough about their boss to understand how serious their situation was. "Oh no," she said with a faint frown, trying not to react and grab too much attention. "What kind of hell?" "The kind where only you can help us. His place is ten kinds of... chaos." "Mmm..." Rouge was suddenly fairly serious. "I'm sorry, but my shift's over, and I promised to meet some friends out back." She ran her hand along the counter, subtly beckoning to them both before disappearing through a door behind the bar. Barely two minutes later, Manic and Scourge met with Rouge at the employee exit. Rouge had dropped the flirting all together, now acting almost businesslike. "I hope you know this is impossible." Rouge wasn't amused. "You bungled that emerald theft, didn't you? Don't you know how heavily guarded they'll be?" "We aren't talking about the museum's emerald," Scourge said. "Point is, Finny wants us to get him that emerald before sunrise. Instead, we gonna nab the one that carnival nights place's got, and he'll spare our necks." "That's an awful long way away." Rouge thought. "That would only give you four hours, wouldn't it?" "Five." Scourge said, also wrong. "Don't you know who you're working with?! You know I can take care of anyone, baby." He pointed at Manic with his thumb. "And you know how good he is with security. Hell, Manic's knows tons of zero days he can exploit." Scourge didn't even know fully what that term meant. He knew it regarded security and hacking, but nothing beyond that. "We're the best of the best." Rouge didn't want to see anything happen to them, but maybe she could press it a bit further. "And if I help you boys with the emerald, what's my reward?" "Are you kidding me?" Scourge didn't look amused. "You want us to die if you don't get some kinda garbage out of it?" But then, Scourge grabbed the chance to be sleazy and angry all at once. "Plus," he started, "Don't you know you won't get to take me for a ride if we can't pull this off?" "Sounds like a good outcome." Scourge couldn't come back from that. Sure, she was only bluffing, but Scourge didn't know how he could respond to that. "Fine! Fine, uh... What else is there?" Scourge thought. "You help us get this emerald, we'll help you nab one, capiche? Quid pro quo, or whatever that latin shit was? No questions, we'll help you get you an emerald somehow. Any one you want." "That's all you're offering for your lives?" "Rouge, stop. Are you in or not." Manic's sudden speaking got both of their attention. Manic vision wasn't blurred by anger like Scourge was, he could see that she was blatantly teasing with that last line. "One emerald for us, one emerald for you. Do you want us to live or not?" He added. "Of course~ I would have done it for free, you know~" She teased. "So what's the plan?" "We'll get it done on the way there." Scourge spun around and waved lazily towards the van. "Come on." Rouge knew a little secret, of course. Manic was never that bad of a kid, she didn't want to make him an enemy. She wanted to help him, and usually Scourge. So in the middle of that dank alleyway behind the abysmal excuse for a casino, she offered him a smile. A comforting smile, but a knowing smile. Scourge wasn't looking, she saw her chance. She tilted her head slightly towards Scourge, giving him a quick glance before looking at Manic again and raising her eyebrows. She drew an X over her lips, and gave the suddenly flustered hedgehog a quick pat on the back. Rouge stopped short of opening the passenger side door for herself to speak while Scourge wasn't paying attention. "Won't say a word, hun~" She took the passenger seat for herself - 'Ladies first,' She would say. She left Manic to seat himself in the back of the can, and as they drove off, waited for them to try and come up with something.

"You're a sly bat..." He muttered his defense, averting his gaze.

'What?' Scourge misheard, turning his head as the teen slipped through the door hatch.

"N-nothing! Let's just go!" he hushed, sitting in just behind the rogue whilst Rouge took passenger seat; she lowered the top mirror and applied more lipstick, puckering her thick lips. "I know a short cut~" she offered, smirking towards them both.

"So do I," Scourge cut across, slamming his door and charging up the engine; the van pulled out from the darkened space and back into the amber lit road along the crumby downtown streets.

Lime sneaked a peek out the side curtain window, watching the almost deserted pathway flash by. Every corner of the buildings was dirtied with graffiti or some other unknown substance, natural or unnatural. The van crawled to a set of stop lights, the red bulb flickering uselessly. "I can't understand why you have your casino here, Rouge, it's the pits." Manic commented dryly, winching with disgust as he noticed a tramp wander to a lamp post and vomit his insides out, groaning weakly. Rouge rolled her eyes, looking elsewhere, "Yes, its not the Palace streets, but unlike those rich urban settlements, I'm more likely to have eyes and ears around here, and not just myself, hun~" she chortled a soft hum, twisting her mascara brush down in its pot, "Truthfully, I wouldn't mind moving somewhere decent, but these days, decent locations are hard to come by, especially when mob bosses and lawyers in the highest firms get friendly with them." "I know what you mean.." Manic mumbled; society was a sham and without vast amounts of money or wealth, nothing ever went their way, "Money makes the world go round."

"Exactly~ So, let's not worry about me, let's worry about you too, for now. Are you planning to bribe Fiona and score these emeralds the softly soft approach, or distract her with your charming personality," she poked Scourge in the shoulder, obviously referring to him in a teasing manner, "whilst sticky fingers does the handy work. Although, just a thought, if you want distraction?~" she adjusted her torso and emphasized her posture, putting on a sly pout to appear sexy, "Look no further~" "You practically emphasise slut.." Manic dead panned, leaning on the chair; Rouge pinched his nose, giving a stern face.

"Ex-cuse-me! I'm helping here, the least you could do fuzz hair is pay some respect!"

"I bent hole in a rice bay!" The teen spoke thickly, winching in slight pain.

"You know," Rouge huffed, finally releasing the thief just as the green hog revved forward, and Manic ended up rolling in the back yelping faintly, "it's not too much to ask for a little courtesy here.. or did you boys lose that from bunking off too many school days?"

"What's school?" Lime mocked sarcastically, rubbing his skull.

"Oh forget it!" she threw her hands up in defeat. "Okay, sorry.." Manic finally muttered, seeing a firm glare in the driver's mirror aimed at him, "We're just tense. Our lives are on the line, we're short of time and we need a plan before then.. I mean, I could sneak into the building and by pass the guys with Scourge, or yourself, depending.. but without knowing the interior layout and security measures..." "Ain't you making a big deal about this? Fiona's an old pal of yours ain't she?" Rouge quirked a blue lid, turning her gaze towards the emerald coloured leader, "Or is there something you're not telling me?"

"Er..?" Manic peered towards his partner too, "It's 50/50 I suppose?"

"Wait? Is she on your side or not?..."

When even Scourge had to admit something he did was bad, it was serious. "We, uh..." Rouge saw a level of discomfort to Scourge she's never seen before. He sat up just so he could look away from her without wrenching his neck uncomfortably. His hands were gripping the steering wheel even tighter. "We screwed up a while back, and got sent to a zone prison." Despite his best efforts to sound tough, there was still a faint, ghostly tremble to his voice. "And we had this whole escape plan. Simple, clean, went perfectly. But, uh..." Scourge had to take a moment. Manic wrenched his hands in discomfort. Rouge just stared on, not knowing if she wanted an answer. "I was beating the snot of out some fuck, and she startled me, so I accidentally... I knocked her out cold." The last words were darted out. Rouge waited a beat, and clicked her tongue. "Is that all? I'm sure if you didn't mean to, you could pave things over. Even with Fiona." Scourge was still looking away. He wasn't telling the whole store. "Can you tell me the whole story? Pleeease~?" She leaned just a little closer to Scourge, catching a few glances from him. "Uh, so, we didn't- No, we went- It's been a while since I've told this story, alright?!" To anyone who didn't know him, this frustration would have sounded like pure anger. He waited another moment, and spoke slightly more calmly. "We couldn't make a quick escape if we had to carry her with us, so we had to..." Another red light. Scourge stopped quickly, jolting both the others. Whether or not this was intentional, Scourge didn't have to finish his sentence. The three sat in waist-deep discomfort. "We helped her escape again, but she-" Scourge rubbed his chin. "She still can't get over it. So we don't know." He looked forward, trying his best to look casual. "She might look the other way... She might cut my neck off." There was a long silence as the three sat in the middle of another four-way intersection, this time slightly less run down. The flecks of graffiti and stains on the sidewalk only added the mildest traces of color to the drab, enveloping darkness. The moment the light changed, Scourge started driving again, desperately wrenching the wheel towards a long, forgotten backroad that was never monitored. No cops ever bothered with this dinky, heavily wooded road, they could drive like it was the autobahn. They could shave up to twenty minutes off the drive, if they were feeling particularly risky. They knew this long drive was going to be unbearably awkward. Rouge broke the silence by clicking her mascara tube closed. “And how long did you wait to help her escape again?”

They didn’t say anything. Scourge had left out plenty of details already, he didn't want anyone prying. Rouge sighed. "So what's your plan?" Scourge glanced over at Rouge. "You aren't seriously going to rely on her looking away, are you?” She sputtered.” What are you going to do if she comes after you?" He had no idea.

"I don't know if I should go in," he finally said. "And leave all the hard work to the both of us?" Rouge wasn't amused. "Didn't you say you were the best?" "I AM!" He said, slamming the wheel. They had slowly been speeding up, until they were pushing the speeds their old van could even attempt to go at. "If I see her and she doesn't want to see me, then we're finished. It's done. I'm the best thief there is, but that ain't nothing against the biggest bi-" He stopped himself short of actually saying it. Even with everything that happened to them, Scourge still cared about her just a little. "She controls everything that goes on there," Scourge said. Carnival Nights was no less crime ridden than Rouge's hideout, but it had enough lights and glitter to hide it from the casual visitor. "If we're gonna pull this off, I'm gonna have to go in." There was a short pause, as he finally put it together. "Manic, what've you got in that bunch of make-up and all that crap?" The 'make-up and crap' was a compartment in their van they stored the occasional disguise, although they were lacking at best. "Nah, that's stupid, she'd know it's me. I guess we'll just... We've gotta us one, but we've gotta be quick about it. Reeeeeal quick. You walk ahead of me 'til we get to the room and scope things out, I'll handle the emerald." Scourge was having trouble focusing through the strobe of moonlight gleaming through the few cracks in the heavy tree cover. Their last few visits to this casino had ended with him being hounded by guards and being brought right to his old lover. "Come on, is there anything in there that won't look like crap?" Even if Fiona could have seen right through it, she wasn't likely to show up. They just needed to fool mindless guards and surveillance cameras. Just long enough to sneak in and out.

And of course, they didn’t. They never did. All they had to do was take the long, sickeningly anxious drive through wherever the hell.

Manic, Scourge and Rouge stepped down into the underground hide out known as carnival nights; The name was far from the merry childish demeanour of fairy lights and cotton candy or dancing monkeys - unless you count the actual dancing monkey grinning weirdly to every passing crowd member and laughing like Krusty the clown whilst swigging from a bottle of gin. Tents camped on every corner but mainly selling black market items from wrist watches that probably never worked and fake jewellery; Of course there were real trade objects worth more, but the stall owners carried an ugly scowl and fierce crack of their knuckles if anyone tried to get close enough.

"It's changed a bit since I was last here~" Rouge sassed, offering a coy smile to the boys.

"Uh-huh." Manic quirked a brow, just dodging a sly hand attempt to pick pocket his own jacket.

There was no laws against thievery down in carnival nights, and so because no one was caught, everyone got away with anything. "But I'm glad it still has its charm..." They wandered past the rows of tables and shacks, pushing through the heavy crowds; Rouge had to slap a lot of hands trying to reach for her breasts. "Dirty bastards.. Does nobody know how to treat a lady with respect anymore?"

"Lady?" Manic smirked, almost causing the white batgirl to pat him upside the head.

"Rude!"

"Will you two quit it!” Scourge grunted from in front, subtly peeking his icy blue iris, “We're looking for Fiona, remember?”

"Yeah, I know~" She sighed, "But she could be anywhere in this place?"

“Not unless you know where to go...” he grumbled, searching far ahead. It wasn't that hard to spot; unlike the amateur looking tents and rugged wood huts, the nights club ahead seemed just a tad more stable and noticeable. They approached the front doors up the steps.

"So," Manic spoke up, gulping a little, "..how do we approach her again?"

"Well, obviously the ex does the talking," Rouge smiled, "Or does this need a woman's touch?~"

"What're you gonna do? Talk about Justin Bieber whilst painting each other's nails?" Manic deadpanned with a sneer.

"Oh, you can talk!"

"What the heck does that mean-" Scourge purposely coughed, cutting the random squabble off. Rouge pouted her lips, "He started it~" causing Manic to whip his head round at the female bat, scowling with distaste.

"There's no way I can lay low." Scourge didn't understand what he'd done, but he knew Fiona was never going to truly let it go. "I'm heading in." Scourge turned towards Rouge last second. "And we're definitely going to need a lady's touch..." Scourge teased, walking very close to Rouge and running his hands over her chest. "In all the right places~" His terrible flirting was meant to distract any passersby from what he was actually doing - removing a small microphone, disguised as a small pointed pin. Scourge fastened it to the edge of his collar, fitting in as some slightly generic punk accessory. "I'll handle this." Manic and Rouge left towards their main objective. Scourge would take the direct approach, and see if he couldn't slip the emerald away from her by telling her what's going on. Manic and Rouge would get more sly, slipping in while he negotiated and committing a smash-and-grab if worst came to worst. They both wore earpieces tuned in to what was now Scourge's microphone, which they turned on as they went. And Scourge's words were very clear, dawning on him far too late; "It's not the rock on the stand, it's gotta be IN the stand." Scourge walked into the small club without drawing any more attention to himself than he needed to. The whole club was furnished and decorated in deep red tones and warm almost black woods. As one of few structures meant to be permanent, and Fiona's favorite location, the maintenance was better than anywhere else on the property. Slightly spiced aromas danced to the beat of slow club tracks and electronic instruments, the whole club coming together with the romantic and mature emotion of a full-bodied red wine. Fiona's favorite way to tear down defenses before she destroyed them. Scourge stood out against the rest of the architecture, his leafy green skin contrasting against the mature red tones. Was that the point? Perhaps. The bodyguards to came to apprehend him did so almost immediately, just what he expected. "Scourge?" A tiger breathed down his neck. "I ain't here to play games this time." Scourge admitted. The sudden submission was a shock from what they'd been instructed, not to mention the occasional rumor he would spread around. "I don't care how it's done, I need to talk to Fiona. Now" There was an exchange of glares between them. Scourge didn't fight them, but he didn't let them walk all over him. The tiger motioned for her partner to leave, as she sat down next to Scourge and made sure he didn't make any funny moves. Manic and Rouge were already at the entrance to the Casino. Barely distanced from the underground entrance to the real Carnival Nights, this was the kind of faux-Vegas casino wine moms and addicted suburbanites could have funded without Fiona's meddling. Marbled galalith lit up by incandescent chandeliers made of gold-plated bronze, all wrapped in bright scarlet walls and gold-tone trimmings. But every table had the odds ever so slightly skewed in the favor of the house. The decks were stacked just enough to give the house even more of an advantage than any legal casino, the slots just slightly less than fair, all as skewed as they could be without anyone really noticing. Of course, anyone who might notice had a tenancy to be scared away. But despite the glitz and glamour, Rouge was just as focused on Fiona as she was on the mission. "She never- You don't know?" Manic didn't say anything, Rouge already knew he must not have known. "She went through months of trauma." Rouge said, recalling what she'd told her on the one or two freelance jobs Fiona'd hired her for. "Locked in a cell, abandoned by her friends to die... And he abandoned her again? In a PRISON?" She rubbed her arm. The way she spat out those last few words oozed with a disgust Manic hadn't heard her use for anyone, not even Scourge. "The cameras are good," Manic said, interrupting her. "I'll be in the basement. Wait for my cue." Rouge huffed away, thinking Manic was just going to gloss over this detail again. But he wasn't. He'd heard the story of him being forced to leave Fiona in a prison when he escaped, but this was new to him. Did she actually live through all that...? He had some work to do on the cameras, he couldn't let it ruin his train of thought. The two thieves heard their ear pieces come to life as Scourge flipped his mic on, hearing the static audioplay of Fiona and Scourge as Manic sent Rouge directions for where the cameras wouldn't notice her. "I know I ain't gonna date you again, that's not why I'm-" "Then WHY." Fiona's voice may have been terrifying, but somehow carried a kind of beauty to it. There was the sound of Scourge sighing, puffing the mic. "We need- We got caught up in some shit, and you're the only person that can save us." "'Us?'" "You remember Rouge? Her and some other grunt of Finny's are in this, too." He knew that Fiona flirted with Rouge once before, but that was a long time ago. But he needed to balance his own life out somehow if Fiona was going to agree. If it weren't for the static, they would have heard Fiona relaxing in a plush chair. "And what do you need?" "The Chaos Emerald." "Not a chance." "Wait!" Scourge interjected, before immediately pulling back. "I- I'm not try'na hurt you, I just- Give me a chance to talk!" Fiona didn't want to give it to him, but he was clearly desperate. She paused. "Four minutes." "If we don't get that emerald, he's gonna kill all three of us," Scourge said. Fiona waited. "Look, I don't know what kind of shit that was, but you gotta-" "Exactly." Fiona cooed, shutting Scourge's screaming mouth immediately. "You don't know. You don't know who I was before you started dating me, all you needed was a beautiful girl to cram yourself into." The next words almost sounded like she was on the verge of crying. "Do you know how many lovers I've tried to have? And I can't trust any, because you didn't know. Because YOU had to ignore all my pain for your own fat head," she kept going, crescendoing into a yell as she went. "I've lived through years of pain you'll never understand, and I lived through it long before I met you! I thought you were going to save me- I thought that’s what you promised, and you left me to die the same way! I've told you this, and you never cared, as long as you got me naked! You’re just- You’re just as much of a shit as Sonic!" They both waited as she breathed deeply. "I don't want to help-" "If I'm dead, you can't get your revenge on me." Scourge said. "I'll be gone, but you won't make me feel that kind of torture." "I don't think you know how much pain I could put you through~" "Years of pain? I'll never know what years of trauma's like 'til I've lived through years of trauma. You let me die, and you'll never get to give me that." Fiona waited before speaking again. "I didn't mean you had four minutes to talk." She eventually said quietly. "You had four minutes while my men turned their heads. You have two now. Then I'm sending everyone I've got."

He had made his way into the ventilation system and crawled as tenderly as he could, so as not to make a scrapping noise from his heel or bang the insides of the metal tube; he focused hard ahead listening to the static feed of the two's conversation. Fiona definitely wasn't happy with Scourge.

Then he heard Scourge offer himself for torture, instead of the circumstances where either was death and the female's tone paused; this sent chills down his spine. He finally turned cautiously ‘round the bend and crept out the top vent shaft hinge door, swinging his legs and falling cat like on his toes; he rolled swiftly across the basement floor, listening intently to the subtle echoes of footsteps or voices; so far, it seemed most of the guards were distracted by the green hedgehog's arrival. As he crept towards the camera feed box, undoing the screw with his fingernails and picking the lock off, he heard Fiona's chilling response of 'two minutes' before she sends everyone. That sounded worrisome as he finally lifted off the cover and began rewiring the cords connecting each feed; he gained a small shock off one wire, sucking his fingers to cease the pain.

"Shit!" Manic hissed quietly, before fiddling like crazy with the electrical feed again. Two minutes?! His fingers moved crazily around the knobs and dials, flicking switches. He managed to turn off one camera, marked 'FEED 1'.

"I've turned a camera off?" he uttered down his mic, checking the side controls as he stuck a tv port device, lightly clicking the feed wires in place, "I'm not sure which one yet--" Six blue boxes faded on the screen, each parallel to one another in perfect formation. Steadily, as Manic flicked a switch on the manual board on the wall, a blue box was replaced with a semi-coloured image of the club. The first showed the interior of the club where the customers were dancing, intoxicated by the scents and sounds, the second feed showed static (his guess was the camera he accidentally shut off), and a third showed an upstairs corridor leading to a secured room. Finally, the fourth image sat under the first loomed a display of Fiona the fox, who from a distance stood over Scourge the hedgehog on the rose furniture. She appeared infatuated with the rogue, but not in a loving way. "What you mean by everyone?" Scourge's voice crackled down the mic, obviously trying to remain calm, but Manic was certain he heard a faint defiance of intimidation. It seemed Fiona may or may have not noticed, either way, from seeing her image on camera and the sound of her tone, she appeared slightly amused by the reply.

"You know who I mean~" her voice almost whispered. "Rouge- I have camera feeds of Scourge, the club and the hallway, possibly leading to the emerald? I lost one though... Can you hear me?"

“Loud and clear,” Rouge replied. She sounded almost annoyed. She wasn't necessarily disagreeing with anything that Fiona had said. If she had known what Scourge had done, would she have even agreed? Of course she would. Evil or not, he didn't deserve death, and certainly not torture. "What all can you see?” As Manic rattled everything off, he notices small numbers in the corner of each screen. "F3-B" for the guarded hallway, "F3-C" for Fiona's office, and "BF-A" for the dance club. "F3 probably stands for the third floor." Rouge speculated, waiting at the escalator bay on the second floor to the club entrance. "I know the hall is up there. 'BF' is probably basement floor." Rouge tapped her lips with one finger. "If Scourge's camera is also F3, they're probably somewhere upstairs, too." And upstairs they were. If they wanted to risk this whole job, they could walk through a private area of the casino and up to her office door - which had one guard in front to stop Scourge from leaving. But Scourge didn't walk through the casino, like any clueless pedestrian may have. Instead, he was lead in private through a backdoor of Fiona's club, and up a long, spiraling set of private stairs. They were cramped and small, and the tiny space they inhabited was lined with harsh lights. "We're missing F3-A, that's probably the vault. Shouldn't be too hard to get in there. Can you stutter the camera on the hall?" Manic's heart was racing as his fingers quickly skidded across the wires and knobs, occasionally slipping from a slight build-up of nervous sweat. He'd need a miracle to pull anything off. They needed three minutes to get into the safe at the museum, what the hell were they going to do? Scourge knew two minutes wasn't enough time, but he needed to stall somehow. And he had a plan. A very dangerous plan, but a plan. He was watching his watch carefully, waiting for that second hand to stop just a few moments before two minutes. With a turn of the wrong knob, the colors of all remaining monitors went haywire. Manic quickly put them back. He turned another dial. It seemed to adjust the luminoscity of the camera, but couldn't go all the way down. That should work. He fumbled a few wires loose and connected them to a device he'd had prepared. Impatient fingers rattled on the electronics, praying this would work as a small light flicked on his device... And F3-B went black. As soon as she got the cue, Rouge was quick to rush to the hall. She was more than familiar with vaults like these, but not enough that she could get in and out in one minute. Her wild hands manhandled the door with her usual tactics, but more rushed than normal. Scourge could see her mentally counting down those last few seconds. 2:31:49... 50... 51... "'N what if I can get you to give me two more minutes?" He crackled through their earpieces. Fiona was caught off-guard by her mostly silent adversary. "And what can you offer me?" "My body," Scourge said in the worst possible way. Fiona’s eyes shot daggers at him, but he clearly wasn’t flirting. "You wanna torture me... you can start now. Just gimme two more minutes." Fiona seemed to size him up through the camera. Whether or not it was good or not, Manic couldn't say, but she seemed to be sizing up Scourge in disbelief. Without a word, Fiona grabbed a switchblade out of her pocket and sliced through Scourge's left upper arm. The scream through their earpieces was almost deafening, the static sending an assault on their ears neither of them was prepared for. Manic could only watch as she took another blow at Scourge, this time picking up something tall off her desk - a small bottle - and mercilessly delivering blow after blow to Scourge's back, his neck, his head. Nothing hard enough to be fatal, but hard enough to make him suffer. He clutched desperately to his arm, wincing and trying to stop himself from losing too much blood. There was the sound of a metal hinge opening. "I'm going in," Rouge said, speaking firmly to hide her terror of what she was hearing. "Ah, shit! You fuckin' bit- AaAAAAHHGH!" The screams and cries for mercy were regular, but Fiona didn't let up for Manic's eyes, glued to the monitor of his partner's beating. Fiona was stomping one of her heeled feet into Scourge's stomach and neck. After she'd had far too much fun with him, she looked at the guard standing by one of her doors, who nodded and stepped aside. With a short drag, Scourge was flung heartlessly down the long, spiral stairs, tumbling from the third floor all the way to the basement entrance... Fiona stood still in her office. If Manic could still hear her, he would have heard her say, "Back to your jobs." "I've got it," Rouge blurted out. "It's the real one, too. Is Scourge alive?" Mercifully, he was still kicking. He clawed his way upwards, using gravity to pull the stair door to the club open. He stumbled out, bleeding. intensely, viscerally injured and barely able to walk. He needed to start running, but he couldn't, only fumble and fall forward with blood streaming down his arm and quickly dripping off of every finger as he slowly tried to make any progress through the foreboding dark chamber... And by some miracle of fate, Manic could just barely see his dripping figure in the club security camera. But he couldn't wait, he had to make his own escape, and just pray that he wasn’t dead yet.

Manic whipped the tv device off the cords, snapping the electrical wires which flickered with some static, but he didn't care. He needed to get back to Scourge.

He dashed cautiously to the vent shaft and slipped inside, closing the door grate behind him with a sharp scrape; he crawled through, making a bit more noise than usual before turning down a bend. He paused, hearing a faint rumble and for one solid moment, he feared someone was coming to get him in the vents.

He looked behind him and in front, panting heavily, heart racing with nervousness. Then he noticed a blurred breeze shift past his quills, and it settled his worries just slightly, realizing the vents fans had turned on to cool the containers. He began crawling steadily again, somewhat sweaty and reached the end hatch, propping open the lid; peeking carefully around, the teen thief lightly dropped out the shaft and began jogging around the brick building towards the back area; he finally found Scourge slumped on the ground, a trail of blood leading from the door.

"Scourge!" Manic exclaimed, eyes widened with panic; he dropped beside the rogue male, tenderly attempting to roll him on his back and investigate the result of the injuries. Instantly, red blood stained his brownish leather gloves and fingertips, giving a grisly sight.

It took every ounce of him to force back the panic-stricken tears.

"Scourge! Say something?!" he hushed, wiping his clean-ish knuckles against the other' face; Scourge groaned and the icy blues grimaced under heavy lids but barely rose.

"Okay! Okay!" Manic uttered, sniffling his sorrow and angst, before lifting the green hedgehog under the forearms and dragging him, heels first back the way they came.

He managed a metre before Scourge coughed and yelped, obviously in fierce pain.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry! Shit!" The lime hedgehog lowered him down again, searching over the cuts and bruises; blood gushed from the arm heavily. He needed to stop the flow. Manic pressed his palms on the cut, urging the male to grunt and buck violently, "Scourge! Please! I need to stop the blood!"

"Holy-" Rouge suddenly cried out, clip-clopping quickly towards the two. She gasped frightfully at the sight of the mess, "He's-"

"Yes, he's fucking bleeding! Help me!"

Rouge didn't seem to think twice and ripped the bottom of her gown, lending the material to the younger; Manic leashed the makeshift bandage around the arm, tying it firmly in place. 'Em..rald..' Scourge croaked, his blurry vision seeking the closest component near him; Manic pressed his lips, spying the bat woman, who nodded.

"Yes Scourge, we got the emerald! For sure! But we have to get you out of here! Otherwise if Fiona sees..." he barely wanted to finish that sentence. "Can you make it to the van?"

"What?" Rouge exclaimed, "And bleed him halfway across that damn carnival! You crazy!"

"Well, we have to do something?! He'll-" Manic winched, letting a tear drop finally escape his eye and slip down his cheek. "Rouge! Please! We can't lose him!"

Timid weepy auburns shimmer up at the female, subconsciously giving away the obvious fact about that statement, as the teen held the rogue close to his chest, somewhat protective. It was probably the first time the young teen had shown this type of behaviour towards the usually rebellious hedgehog, but then again, Scourge wasn't often stabbed and beaten to near death.

The underground carnival night's area was nowhere to need medical help. It was a den of crime, flooded with anything from petty criminals to assassins. Death was nowhere near as rare in this decrepit onslaught of tents and makeshift stands as it was on the cleaner city streets. And now, Scourge was crumpled into a heap near Fiona's club, one of the few permanent structures in the area. A small alley between the entrance side of the club and a wall from one of the few entrances. Scourge wouldn't be the first person to die in that space. The blood trail from the office to the alley bore somewhere shy of two liters of Scourge's blood. There was no way they could risk walking him any further than a few meters, and their van was parked somewhere on the far side of the underground market. Rouge knew how Manic felt, or at least in vague. "Get Scourge up those stairs immediately," Rouge commanded. "I'll pull your car around." She didn't have the same connection that Manic had. At the very least, she could act calm. Rouge grabbed the keys off of Scourge's body, kneeling down in what was already his line of sight. "Scourge, I need you to follow Manic. We have a plan. Understand?" All Scourge could muster was a subtle nod and another groan. Rouge stood up, and rushed back through the hands of the crowds, shooting Manic and his half-dead partner a few concerned glances behind her shoulder before disappearing. Scourge was propped around Manic's body by his right arm. His bleeding left arm was dangling to his side, tightly bandaged and disgustingly pale. He winced and moaned in pain regularly, struggling to walk even halfway decently with his blurred mind and what weak excuse he had for vision left. Scourge's head was leaned against Manic's sobbing chest, focusing all of his muscles on staying conscious. He turned his head constantly, and subtly, trying to find some way to lean his head that wouldn't leave his bruises, cuts and wounds aching from even the mildest stimulation, but no matter how he held it, some trickles would doubtlessly stream down onto his fur and skin. "You... this sad... 'bout me..." Hearing anything out of Scourge's mouth other than a pained utterance or a whispered obscenity put even more stress on the petrified hedgehog. But Scourge's response wasn't some dying words or curse towards Fiona... he was laughing. Smiling and subtlety laughing yet another smug statement through the groans and fits of coughing. "I'll choose... when... I die..." "We're almost there," Manic begged. The stairs were longer than they hoped, the particularly steep kind of stairs used for below-ground subways. They were over halfway there, but the blood from Scourge's body was still dripping more and more. The trail was ever growing, Scourge's condition ever worsening. Manic's could feel his heart shatter when Scourge closed his eyes and exhaled... He gasped in fear and stopped to desperately check for a pulse. Weak, but very present. He had time. Through crushing fear and burning anger, Manic continued up the stairs, moving the barely conscious hedgehog closer and closer up the stairs, as his heart marched closer to stopping and their time frame to finish this job drew ever smaller... The squeal of a cars tires and clacking sound of Rogue's heels sounded like the arrival of a guardian angel. "Is he still-" Rouge stopped herself from yelling around the already terrified Manic. She could see the subtle rising and falling of Scourge's chest through his sliced leather jacket. "Focus on that arm, Manic." Rouge said, downplaying her concern to keep Manic from having an episode. She picked up Scourge from his other side, carrying him from the front with her right arm around his left shoulder. There was a wince to his face, but he was still out. The moment they got to the van, Rouge and Manic laid Scourge down on one of the beanbags in the back, the best they could do. Rouge left Manic to his hysterics as she ran to the front seat, and rocketed the stalled car far, far away from Fiona... Or as far as they could hope to be from her. What they didn't know was that Scourge wasn't completely unconscious. The wince of sudden pain jolted parts of his mind back to work. He could hear what they were saying, but couldn't process most of it in the moment. He could only reflect on everything he heard after the fact. "We need to take him to a hospital-" "We can't!" Manic shouted. "We need to get that emerald back, or we’re all dead!" Rouge thought. "Well, tear up whatever you can and wrap all his other wounds. We can nab some first aid supplies." There was the sound of some cheap fabric being torn - some old tees Manic wore from time to time - and the pressure of Manic tying them to his head to the sound of him blubbering over his body. He could feel a couple warm tears fall onto his face. Rouge sighed. "You need some space, hun? I know how you feel." "Please don't die..." He said, screaming now. "Please, don't..." The timing and exact voices and words grew more fuzzy as his memories went on, but he distinctly remembers feeling Manic press his lips against his own... The shock of the moment was terrible for Scourge's bruised and damaged mind, and he slipped out of consciousness once more.

His mind had been on auto drive the whole time; all he could focus on was Scourge. The moment the rogue blacked out in his arms, only faintly breathing, Manic became numb to the world around him. He felt like he had left his body and mind, and it was working for him, dragging and pulling the green hedgehog to safety, wherever that was. Rouge had been screaming a few things towards him, either warnings or encouragements, the teen wasn't certain anymore.

He uselessly attempted to press and wipe away any sweat or blood, holding tightly to the emerald colour hedgehog.

His fingertips twitch awkwardly, wishing and praying that his touch would bring Scourge to life and heal faster, but alas, no changes happened. He felt the van shudder and drift, as Rouge steered the vehicle through the city region and back towards the club; she may have honked the horn a couple of times in her frustration, but Manic hardly had the energy to vent at her to quit it or they'll attract official attention.

Finally, the movement jerked to a halt and the door slammed as the bat woman rushed out towards the back; she and Manic did their best to lift the wounded convict upon their shoulders and drag-walk him inside the building round the opposite side.

Lime kept his body fixated on staying upright until they got inside, until they found medical supplies, until they fixed Scourge back up, until he continued to breath... he hardly realized the thickened tears streaming down his face, splashing under his chin onto his torso.

'This is all my fault.. my fault...' he just kept thinking. They managed to haul the rogue into a lift and it dinged to the second floor of her apartment; Rouge helped to move the unconscious body to a bed, leaving Manic to watch over him before dashing to the nearest cabinet.

"Fuck! Shitting hell!" she exclaimed in agitation, clumsily dropping a few bottles and boxes from her rummage.

"Scourge!?" Manic whimpered, his voice cracking with anxiety, "Please don't die!" He pet the forehead, messing up the fur and staining more blood on his hands; it seemed Scourge was bleeding almost everywhere. "Get some towels and water- clean the wounds first! Go!" Rouge commanded; Manic hurried towards the bathroom, grabbing any cloth he saw and poured warm tap water in a pour, spilling liquid on the carpet. He dropped beside the bed, dipped a wash cloth and tried to gently yet curtly clean the wounds, whilst Rouge removed the makeshift bandage and threw it in the trash can.

Scourge subtly winched and twitched from each press and gaze of the wash and towel but hardly stirred; once most of the blood was gone, Rouge focused on the heavy wounds, such as the dagger cut on the rogue's forearm.

It looked deep. "Is he.. okay?" Manic asked timidly, grimacing at the torn flesh and open vessels. Rouge pulled a worried expression.

"I can help numb and seal the wound, but nerve damage is beyond me. We can only hope that heals on its own.. although..."

"J-just- do something?!"

"I'm working on it Manic!" She uttered, gritting his teeth, "Do me a favour and be quiet whilst I work- and hold him down! I don't know how he'll react to the stitches."

Lime nodded and positioned his form to press down the waist and other wrist, as Rouge soaked the numbing drug on the flesh. She didn't wait the full amount of time before stitching the wound closed, but supposed it didn't matter as Scourge was already out like a lamp.

Manic watched on, holding his mouth closed with fear of queasiness and the likely chance he may vomit over them. The ex-agent dug the needle and thread effortlessly through the skin and fur, occasionally pausing to wipe sweat from her brow; this task required a lot of concentration. She stitched the last thread, tying a knot in the end and stuck sticky band strips over the patch work.

Rouge searched the rogue's body for other open injuries, but it seemed the arm had been the worst case; the rest were small gashes and scratches, easily treatable with anti-septic lotion and cleaning solution.

She stepped off the bed, staring down at the motionless form and exhaled nervously, staggering towards the bathroom.

"Where you going?!" Manic exclaimed.

"Sorry to sound unladylike but I need to hurl.." she winched, ghosting a smirk which flickered as soon as it came; Rouge pushed the stall door and grunted down the lavatory, clenching the seat lid. Meanwhile, Manic tried to busy himself with tending to the other cuts and bruises, cleaning and sealing every noticeable graze, before climbing off weakly, opening the window and emptying his stomach two floor downs in a drain. He slumped on the floor, pressing his forehead to the wall as he shivered violently for a long while.

"Ugh..." the bat finally emerged moments later, having splashed water on her face and opened her wardrobe, "That was hell.."

"It's not over yet..." Lime uttered weakly, clumsily standing to his feet and turning towards her, "Give me the emerald."

"You're kidding?! Now?!"

"Yes!! Now!! We probably have an hour at least to take it to the mob boss and get him off our backs- if we don't-" Auburns pierce towards the green hedgehog on the bed, who was still motionless and probably not the best condition for visiting crazy gangster lords.

"Are you crazy?! I can't let you go off and meet some crook halfway across town whilst your 'boyfriend' here is out cold!? What if-"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT IF?! HAND IT OVER NOW, ROUGE! WE DON'T GOT TIME FOR THIS SHIT!"

Rouge was slightly taken aback by the outburst; she tensed, flinching her gaze at the KO rogue and the angsty teen before her, and then exhaled thickly, digging in her luggage for the jewel. She pulled out the shimmering crystal, beautifully cut in shape and size. "Let me come with you."

But Manic shook his head. "No, its too risky getting you involved further. I need to do this alone... I'll be back." He stared indefinably, although whether he believed that statement himself was another matter, "If he wakes.. tell him... t-tell him... something... j-just..." he bit his lip nervously before strolling over to the bed and leaning over his fond rebellious crush. Peach lips pressed to the beige muzzle, but even though the concern and love was there, he felt too numb with fear to feel. Without another word, the teen thief fled from the room and hurried down the steps towards the van, driving away in the night.

The surgery for applying stitches is a relatively simple procedure for most surgeons. But they were not surgeons, they were three thieves. Rouge lived a life of luxury, Manic a life in the shadows, and even with Rouge's G.U.N. training, neither had been fully prepared for seeing gore so intimately. Even surgeries took place in a sterile environment. This was a half-dead form bleeding and twitching on a random bed in the middle of a filthy city. Even with as clean as Rouge kept her apartment, that only made the blood and vomit that scabbed and crusted over the apartment that much more disgusting. And with Manic driving off, it was finally over. This wasn't the exhaustion experiences by a surgeon who had completed stitches, this was the exhaustion shared by surgeons who had finished a 48 hour organ transplant. Rouge slumped to the floor, not bothering to change her bloodied clothes or clear a spot. She simple fell to the ground, kicking off her boots lazily as the exhaustion hit her like a brick. Rouge had seen the initial kiss, but this second one was different. There was plenty of love, and nothing else. Not even enjoyment. Even if Rouge hated how much of a brat Manic could be, he was still a kid. He wasn't evil, not at all. A good kid who ended up in a bad position, is all. "Good luck." She said to him quietly, despite being surely miles across the city by now. She wiped her hand across her forehead, letting the bits of sweat slowly forming drip down her hand, and stood. Any blood was too much blood. Scourge's twitching and heavied breathing has calmed. Despite everything, he was breathing softly. Despite the mess of bottles, the bloody wounds, the absolute mess, his actions almost looked peaceful. Manic was twenty miles from the club. Rouge had taken the chance to clean up some of the messes. The furniture has mostly been scooted into place, save for the slightly askew bed. Bottles were cleaned, gauze and silk thread organized away, as clean as she could hope, given how exhausted she was. Flecks of bodily fluids still lay fresh in the carpet from the ordeal, but she couldn't care about that. She couldn't be bothered with that now. Despite seeming to go slow, bits of adrenaline coursing through her body made her realize only five minutes had passed. She was too scared to wait idly. So she decided to clean the specks of blood out of her hair and off her skin. She left the door to the bathroom cracked open as the shower began to run. If Scourge roused, Rouge could get dressed in a hurry and run to check on him. And he was in no condition to be pervy, even if he truly wanted to. The steam was rejuvenating, the weak flow of warm water spilling out of the faucet a welcome string of comfort after the long night. She knew Manic must have been terrified, but she was too physically exhausted to care beyond mild concern. She focused on her short hair as some means to distract from the onslaught of emotion, combing her hands through the bits of caked vomit from her previous trip to the bathroom. Her hair was knotted and oily with nervous sweat. Disgusting. She didn't want to deal with this now, but beauty hurts. So she treated this like any other night, lazily forcing her hands through every motion of her usual beauty rituals. Manic was ten miles from the club. Rouge's short shower was cut even shorter by what sounded like a stirring from the bedroom. Of course, even if he was barely alive, she wasn't going to let Scourge had any kind of show. She stepped out of the bathroom in some ugly dress. A thick cashmere monstrosity that made her look like a disproportionate bag, but it was clean and comfortable, and that's all she needed. She rushed out, not bothering to dry her mess of wet, tangled hair. "Are you awake, Scourge?" In the loosest sense of the word, yes. He groaned and twitched slightly, but he was just barely sentient enough to be considered conscious. He couldn't speak, he couldn't really communicate in any way, but he could interpret what was happening and move slightly. He took in the words he'd heard them say on the drive over, slowly piecing anything he could together through the exhaustion. His head nodded very faintly, but Rouge definitely noticed. She sat down on the chair, and spoke as his eyes slowly opened, peaking at his partner in crime. He finally had a chance to speak anything about what they'd experienced. "You look like hell." He mumbled. Rouge refrained from saying the same to him. "I look like hell because I had to dig a needle through your arm." She said, entirely unamused. "You're lucky you're not dead." "I'll decide when I die..." Scourge rolled over, gripping his arm and groaning in pain. "Aaah, god damnit..." Was it worth it? One or two wouldn't hurt. Rouge stood up, and walked to where she kept her bits of first aid supplies. Beneath the normal supplies, she always kept a few extra tools, on the off chance she'd need them. At the bottom was a small bottle of painkillers. She maneuvered two pills between her fingers as she poured a glass of seltzer water for Scourge. "You got any liquor?" "Are you able to walk to the fridge and get it?" Scourge didn't respond, begrudgingly swallowing the two pills. They would have to wait before any effect set in, so Scourge lay where he was, wincing in pain. "What time's it?" He managed to say, sounding angry. "Where's Manic?" "He's delivering that emerald." Rouge sighed. "Could you really not wait another minute?!" "What time is it?" Scourge repeated. She looked at a small clock near the bed. "6:30," she huffed. "He left ten minutes ago." The vaguest tinges of purple crept through the starry sky, the finest trickles of light through the royal starry ocean barely fading away. Daybreak was around the corner. Scourge put his hand over his face, and let out his worries with a loud, "Fuck." "Hey, Scourge." Rouge said, leaning over and putting one hand on his right arm, gently touching around the small gashes. He tilted his head around. "Manic wanted me to say something to you... ..." Across town, Manic walked through the creaked door to a familiar uncomfortable office. Finny stood up, walking very slowly towards the hedgehog… …passed him strangely close distance… …and closed the door, making sure that it was timed so the closing click wouldn’t be covered by the out-of-time clock. He took a long, agonizing walk to his desk. “Well, boy,” he started, “The sun is rising. Where is my emerald?”

Manic hardly said a word, his figure and facial expression tense with anxiety as he slowly crossed the room over to the desk and gently yet firmly lay the emerald on the surface; its distinct shimmer unlike any other gem stone twinkled purplish light which reflected on the polished board.

A gnarled silky hand tapped the jewel before clinging spidery fingers around the object and pulling it towards the grinning individual.

The lime coloured teen stared his timid stoney auburns, his twitching hands trying to hide behind his back and an unreadable frown on his pretty peach muzzle. "I was beginning to wonder where my emerald was?~" Finny drawled sadistically, "But it appears to be here~" The young hedgehog felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, mentally pleading that the deed was done and then he could return to Scourge. "Where's your partner?~" "He's..." Lime winched slightly, "...he couldn't make it." "So Scourge is dead, is he?"

For some reason, those words cut through his heart; even though Manic was possibly certain they weren't true, it hurt thinking the outcome if they hadn't saved the rogue in time, or at all. "I.. don't know. He got injured.. retrieving that emerald.. for you.." The teen gulped thickly, forcing back the tears which wanted to escape his ducts and stream painfully down his face; he dug his nails into his other hand, telling himself not to show weakness.. not now. Finny seemed to like taking his time in responding, inspecting the crystallised gem stone and clicked his teeth lazily, "Did he? How... courageous of him~" Manic felt a twinge of insult; this guy didn't know what Scourge had gone through to get this emerald, and to state his worth like it was an offhand comment or joke, gave the teen thief the faintest impulse to rush forward and smack the creep upside the head. The crime boss placed the stone on a stand, watching it twinkle its radiance elegantly on the glass ornaments beside it before clasping thin hands together and staring those pale wicked eyes at the young hedgehog, "I suppose this seals the deal then~" Finny sneered under the shadow of his brow. "So," Manic uttered softly, gazing at the crime lord intensely.

His heart was thudding gravely for the longing to leave this place and never return, never to see this hideous creature's sneer and devilish eyes ever again. He did his best to remain calm and not show signs of how much this lord placed the teen under pressure.

Manic feinted his composure more, by brushing his pretty locks from his half-lids, flickering a sort of generous smirk, despite his slightly ruffled and messy appearance; not to mention the faint stains of mud and blood near his knee calves and wrists. His tongue still had an icky taste from trying to lick away the evidence of their previous distress, "..we're done?"

"I believe I told you to retrieve the chaos emerald at the Marble Gardens museum... This clearly isn't it." There was a moment of terror as the news sunk in for Manic. He wasn't going to get them on some technicality like that, was he? A flood of anxiety bellowed through Manic's lungs, begging to be released in some form. Tears, screaming, a punch in his filthy jaw, anything! He could feel his right hand starting to quiver as "Finny" gazed over the stone. "But since you were so generous to get this for me..." He turned to look right at Manic, his grin looking like it was tearing at the corners. "Consider all your debts paid in full. You may go~" The last line almost sounded like flirting, but there was blatantly no romance. Manic slowly stepped backwards, leaving him to do whatever terrible things he could do with that emerald. The once filled club was now virtually empty, the guarded hallways of bad decisions just as lifelessly occupied as they were before. But this was different. The smoke hanging in the air was stagnated from previous visitors. The doors to the private rooms closed, the low thud of club beats almost nonexistent. Finality loomed in the air of the main club room, too, where blacked-out and horribly drunk party-goers littered the stained floors. And then he got to the car. There was no noise, just the gentle rumble of the engine. A thin bar of red appeared over the skyline as they barely met their deadline. Scourge was still likely in visceral pain, and as much as he wanted to relax, he had to get to Rouge's apartment again. "He ain't as subtle as he'd like to think." Scourge had been propped on a thick pile of pillows, shifting his back up as he spoke to Rouge in private. He hadn't picked up on any of Manic's cues past vague suspicions, but the seed of doubt was planted. Rouge sat on a chair near the bed, since having wrapped her hair in a towel and turning on the radio. It was some indie rock station, but he wasn't groaning for her to change it, so she left the mediocre ambiance be. "What do you mean, suspicions?" "He kissed me in the van." Rouge puffed. "I told you that happened, you were unconscious." "I felt it!" Scourge yelled, before adjusting himself and rubbing his still pained arm. The few pills he'd taken had eased him somewhat, but it was still an intense pain. Rouge just raised her hands in the air, and turned away. "Whatever you say!" They didn't want to argue any more, so they stayed where they were, letting the mediocre composition take control of the feminine spare bedroom. Bass. Snare. Bass. Snare. "Babe." Scourge said, putting his hand on his face. "Why'd you do that? If you hate me-" "I don't care." Rouge said. "Even if you're a creep who calls everyone their babe, you're still a creep with a life. I won't watch you die." "Then give me my phone." "We have talked about this." Roue said. "You don't want to call him when he's taking to your boss. You can't risk it yet, I'm sure he's fine! He-" Thankfully, Scourge's phone rang, immediately startling them both, before easing so many fears. "Here, you talk to him." Scourge accepted the call, and raised it to his face. "Kid, I'm awake." He gave Manic a pause as he seemed to sigh in relief. "Yeah, I'm still kicking. Can't kill me that easily!" He let out a laugh. It hurt, but he didn't care too much. His smile soon faded, as Manic brought up a touchy topic. "Yeah, she told me, but wait, kid. Did you- Is Finny happy? We done with him?"

"Yeah.." Relief slowly inched within and filled his core with a warmish glow, the sanity of hope and freedom finally inching under his skin; Manic clasped the phone closer to his face, as if he could physically touch Scourge through the receiver, "..he said the debts were paid. We're done with him."

He uttered a small chuckle when he heard the rogue exclaim a yelp of celebration followed by a pained winch and groan.

"Go easy will ya.. You're still recovering from your injuries, remember?" Lime noted, hugging himself in the driver's seat; he hid his sniffle of onset tears cautiously so as not to worry the scoundrel further. "Yeah yeah, I know it sounds like I'm nagging ya but... okay, too young to die and all that hog! You're insane, Scourge the hedgehog... but," he gulped thickly, clenching his hand on the steering wheel as a burning blush settled upon his features, "..suppose you're less boring.. that way.." He heard a throat clear; even through an electronic device, Manic could sense his partner's awkwardness. Even he was trying to wrap his head around these insane feelings. "Scourge... You knew I was.. gay, right?" he asked quietly, waiting with baited breath.

There came a mumbled grunt, similar to 'yea' or 'ok?', he couldn't tell which.

"Well..." Manic inhaled slowly, "I guess I should say... I sort of... kinda... l-like-" he paused, his throat tightening with nerves; why was it suddenly so hard to confess after all the bullshit they went through tonight? "You know.. what I'm trying to s-say, right?" his voice cracked slightly, as peach naked fingers rattle nails on the dash board. The hand holding the receiver began to slip with palm sweat.

"It doesn't matter if you don't feel the same way, I'm cool-" he lied with a smile; his auburns water thickly, "We'll still be thick as thieves, right?"

He hated the pregnant silence.

"We can forget the kiss if it bothers you.. it was.. caught up in the moment and.." he trembled in his seat, "..it wouldn't be fair to go just yet..."

Thick splashes dripped on his arms and thighs, straining his muzzle with wet salt; his grin was more likely a grimace at this point.

"..especially since you're gonna be the K--ing Crim--inal---" he paused, biting his bottom lip hard, focusing on this physical pain instead of the crushing strain on his heart.

While the tears and scratches at himself were silent, the intense cracks in his voice were all Scourge needed to hear.

“Punk.” Scourge finally grumbled out, giving a slight startle to his sobbing partner. Scourge turned to face Rouge and motion for her to leave the room. The door silently closed behind her, as Scourge waited for some facade of privacy before continuing to talk.

His fingers tapped lazily on the bed as he thought of how to say it right.

“I told you to at least pretend you're confident.” He finally said. He let a smile creep across his face and through his strained voice. “That’s no way to hit on someone.”

“I got my arm sliced up for you, kid. You put it back together. I ain’t straight, kid, of course we ain’t splitting!” And he couldn’t resist adding one more special touch. “Why’d I split with you for that? Just means you’ve got good taste~”

Was it the straight delivery, his normal cheesy smarm, what was it?! But somehow, he managed to force a nervous laugh out of Manic. The smiles on their faces quickly disappeared as Scourge kept speaking, taking pauses to think of how to say it just right.

Scourge looked gravely at the door. The shower was starting to run again. He wouldn’t have to worry about Rouge listening in.

“I don’t know.” He finally said. “I’ve got a lot of feelings, but I ain’t sure if they’re romantic or nothing. You’re cute, but I ain’t sure. You wanna try something sometime, I won’t tell you no. But it might just be shitty for both of us, ‘n it might ruin what we’ve got. If I don’t like you like that... that’s your call. You think you’re strong enough to stay with someone who don’t love you back?”

Half of this was lies. Scourge knew fully well he treated Manic differently. He put up with panic attacks he wouldn’t have taken from any of his other partners in crime, put a trust in him he didn’t give most people. He was completely aware that there was some kind of a feeling there for Manic. Was it love? No, what he had with Fiona was love. This was... affection. Not quite love yet, but affection all the same. He knew this logically, but wouldn’t let any of this drill through his skull. He was Scourge. He couldn’t have genuine romantic emotion.

“If you’re wanna take that risk...”

He could hear the sound of the van’s tires violently screeching against the asphalt. outside.

“...You got to kiss me twice already. It’s my turn~”

It was amazing that Scourge was capable of making Manic's cheeks burn with warm embarrassment just from hearing his voice through the speaker phone; he hung up and stumbled into the building, climbing the stairs to the second floor. Admittedly, actually facing his crush and confessing seemed harder to do than on the hand held, yet as his fingers tightened over the door handle and twisted, he uttered as charmingly as he could muster,

"Deal~" before lightly pushing open the wood panel and staring straight at the rugged rogue in the bedsit. He tensed at first, feeling to shy to approach and clicked his phone call off, giving a awkward grimace at the other, "Hey.." he said, his voice cracking slightly with nerves. Scourge gave a similar response, swiping his thumb on the screen to end call; he gave a 'come-hither' gesture with his finger, barely speaking yet his blues spoke volumes. Manic slowly inhaled and walked in, trying to hold his confidence.

He closed the door behind him, moving near the end of the bed, "Hey..." he spoke again; why did he so pathetically shy again?

"So..." he emitted a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head, "...what now?" Again, Scourge wagged his finger to ask the other to come closer, giving a half lidded coy mood; even the sight managed to shiver goosebumps and quicken the teen's heart rate past normal. Manic edged around the side, shifting his boots one after the other and tensely lowered on the edge on the bedsit, staring timid browns at the green furred male. He subtly swallowed again, trying to log a lump down his throat.

"...How's your arm?" he asked, sweating on the back of his neck.

"Only slightly mangled." Scourge underplayed. It was actually smarting pretty bad, but Rouge had left those painkillers next to him. He wasn't worried about it anymore. "So's the rest of me, think that little tumble broke my foot." Despite everything he was saying, he didn't seem broken up about it. No, any scraps of legitimate concern that might have remained in his body were wiped away by a smug, smug grin. He actually wanted this, and he didn't even have to try to make him blush. Jackpot. Manic almost yelped at the feeling of Scourge's right hand on his back. It was the same touch he'd given many times before, more as a thanks or to get him to calm down. But now, he seemed to jolt up into the air. "Hey, kid." Scourge was hamming up his flirting to the reluctant thief, leaving his lips slightly parted just to tease. "You don't need to worry. Finny's done with us, Fiona's done with us, and we don't have anything else to worry about. Especially not me~" Scourge was pulling him closer with his right arm, leaving his left to relax as he pulled Manic onto the bed. "You really think I'm the type to bite?" Even half-awake and half-alive, Scourge had the strength to tease Manic over his body. He tugged at Manic's nest with his pointed teeth. "Maybe you'd like that?~" He left Manic waiting and anxious, watching his breaths speed up and the goosebumps rise and scream in anxious begging. Manic was already prepared for a kiss. Scourge just had to tease a little. He only brushed his lips over Manic's, tugging slightly at his upper lip with his teeth, just to make him squirm. There was no further build-up. Scourge pulled in Manic with a sudden burst of energy, letting his tongue desperately fight with Manic's for pleasure. There was the ghost of a disgusting flavor in Manic's mouth, and the taste of blood reigned heavy over Scourge's mouth, but neither of them cared. They were both careful not to further any of Scourge's injuries... for the most part. They lost themselves to one another, and soon, Scourge's left arm twitched to life again until he had it gently around Manic's lower back. It was nowhere near as hard as Scourge's right hand, but comfortable. He was finally being clutched and kissed by his crush after all these years. And the same could be said for Manic. It was a short burst of passion that felt like hours when they broke their kiss at last. As ugly and bruised as Scourge was, those rugged features still shone through the cuts and bruises, and especially that sexy grin. The white noise of water in the background turned off. "Looks like Rouge's done." Scourge flirted. "Come on, let's head back to the van. We've had a real long night, we both need sleep..." His left hand teased at the collar of Manic's vest. What he said next was whispered so quietly, it was barely audible; "And we both need somewhere private to lay down~"

He let the other guide him down the steps to the van, already smitten with curiosity of lust; Scourge opened the back doors and lightly tugged him in, almost tossing Manic on the bean bag. The teen gave an awkward chuckle, staring up at the rugged male; his cheeks pinked at the sight and he bit his lip nervously. The rogue lowered over him, sealing lips again; strong arms embrace him nimble body.

“Scourge~” Manic ushered softly.

The morning was kind to the two lovers. They slowly gave in more and more, needing to get even closer to their partner... and just as passionately as it started, it ended.

Scourge clutched at Manic’s body as he curled up against him. Was he… he was cuddling? Maybe he’d call it something less twee, but he was definitely cuddling against Manic. The two panted and gasped for air at their own paced, basking in the intense afterglow.

“Fuuuck, baby… You sure you were a virgin?” Scourge asked, admiring the bleeding bite marks over his lover’s neck. “Most people I’ve slept with ain’t half as good~”

“Not.. any more~” Manic exhaled heavily, inching a tiny smirk; despite feeling exhausted, he still had enough sass left in him, “Plus, I’m not most people…” He heard a snicker and mumbled remark, but didn’t catch it clearly; suppose it didn’t matter much. They lay there, listening to each other’s gasps and inhales; Scourge was breathing near his neck region, inhaling a cool stream of air past his skin and then exhaling the swirly hot condensation. He didn’t even mind it so much. His body was too wrecked to care. One peach hand slipped round and gently startled to massage or tickle amongst the emerald fur, the first gentle caress since they started in this crazy fiesta. Manic hummed, nuzzling closer into his companions hot body; admittedly, it was hot and wet, so not the most comfortable body to hug, but his brain was so high in fluffy heaven, it didn’t even matter. “Scourge,” he whispered softly, “this isn’t a one night sort of thing for you, is it?” He was a little anxious if the rogue might say it was; he knew he loved him and spending this moment felt incredibly great- so fucking incredibly amazing!~ A twinkle of innocence shines in his browns, seemingly hopeful.

“I was honest about loving you- like a hell of a lot- just to clarify~” He gave a small chuckle, smiling sheepishly.

In spite of the sweat and blushing face, in spite of hearing him beg his name, in spite of everything they had done that night, Manic still managed to look cute. Through his innocent eyes and sheepish smile, there was a genuine love that made Scourge balk. Just a little.

“Kid…” The words were groaned out as his sore left arm clutched under Manic’s chest, addicted to the warmth from his partner. “I went on two heists and got sliced for you.”

He raised his exhausted head, just as comfortable as his lover. “You think I’d do that for most people?”

Despite his heavy limbs, Scourge shifted up slightly, letting Manic’s gasps for air brush across his lips. “A’course… you’re not most people~”

Scourge pulled Manic in to a passionate, fumbled kiss. Despite the way their tired tongues seemed to stumble their way through their partner’s mouths, it was so passionate that neither of them cared. They didn’t care what they would have to face when they finally left the van. They spent all night worrying about their futures, they EARNED their right to care about nothing but the moment.

“Of course I love you, babe~”

He was never going to forget the exact way Scourge said that line, and he was never going to forget that kiss Scourge gave him then and there. It wasn’t as fumbled or awkward, but it dragged on. Very long. The two passionately made out for what felt like hours, only stopping because their bodies needed a chance to breathe… and sleep. The didn’t clean up their messes, didn’t bother moving an inch, just cuddled up to their new… well, boyfriends, after a long, long night. It was an evening Manic would always remember.

He’d remember it when Scourge and him were arrested, and when they’d make their escape.

He’d remember it when Scourge went missing years and years down the line.

And he’d remember it when he was playing drums at a session recording for an immensely talented pair of soul singers, performing a love duet that would always carry meanings for Manic that they couldn’t possibly for any other person… Except maybe Scourge.

Bass. Snare. Bass. Snare.

“But sunrise won’t look on, or do you want that? Midnight, dusk, and dawn will forget all our crimes Gimme a taste, just one taste too much Night is over, the day’s arrived How are we alive, live, live….”

There was a strange finality to the performance. It didn’t feel like a tribute to their loving night together, it felt like… a memory. It had been two years since Scourge disappeared, and no leads turned up. It felt like some part of his brain had already decided that he was…

The song had ended, along with the emotional roller coaster for Manic. A lizard spoke from the other room, separated only by a glass pane. “Andrea, could we run through that one more time with a little less ornamentation?” She asked, saying something to the sound mixer beside her.

“Absolutely,” the wolf woman before them spoke. She turned to face the other performers. “You guys don’t mind running through one more time, do you? From the beginning?”

Manic smiled serenely. “Let’s hit it.”

#DawnHedgehog555 #Manourge #Show's Over #There's A Melody Playing

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