(no subject)
“I failed.”
He wasn’t sure why he had said it out loud. She was sleeping; he was sure of that. There was no one else around. He didn’t like to talk to himself.
The words echoed, but only in his mind. He clenched his fists and looked down at her. Every bruise, every bandage - things that weren’t covered by the blanket. He didn’t have to look under the blanket. He knew the wounds were there. The fact that there were wounds, so many, so deep - was a slap in the face to him. He gritted his teeth and looked away. The wounds on her. Mocked him. Just like his title.
Guardian.
He let out a short, derisive laugh at that. A gag reflex. He wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter. He unclenched his fists and clenched them again.
Guardian.
For all his power, for all his expertise, for all - everything - he had been helpless. Utterly utterly helpless to stop those wounds from happening. To stop that… that snake… from putting her filthy hands -
The memory only served to incense him further. If he was a person who cried, he might have cried then. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. He simply unclenched and clenched his fists again. He was the reason she had gotten hurt; more salt thrown in. The girl had suffered - was suffering, he corrected himself, because of him.
And to top it off he was helpless nearly the entire time.
That thought made his blood boil.
It was not supposed to be this way. He was the Guardian. The protector. He was supposed to protect and guard. He briefly considered sending her away - but that would solve nothing. The thought was gone, as quickly as it had came. They’d still come. And he wouldn’t be there at all.
It had not been this way with the Master Emerald. The one time it was broken - the few times it was jeopardized (yet saved, one way or another). But the Master Emerald was a gem - a gem of incredible power, an entity. But it could stay in the palace. This was a living breathing girl who had a mind of her own and somehow got herself into dangerous situations whenever he took his eyes off of her for five minutes or more. He considered her frail even though she could hold her own relatively well. Despite her prowess, she was small and skinny, and far weaker than he. She was currently asleep, and that only enforced this opinion. If he didn’t know her he’d be drawn to protect her - because it was his nature.
And now apparently his nature was to fail. This wasn’t the first failure. Nor was she the only one he failed to protect. And that frustrated him, more. RK’s earlier words came back to bite him.
“It happens, Knuckles. You aren't a god who can control everything around him. If you're going to allow yourself to care about her, think of her as your protectee, whatever, it's something you have to accept. You have a hard time just helping yourself. Like today.”
That only made him angrier. Not only that he was RK, the threatening Mighty had told him about earlier - and that attitude - but the words themselves. The last line was an utter line - most times. He had periods of weakness that he was no means proud of, but the android had made him out to be a weak helpless little boy.
He also assumed that he had control over his caring. Which he did not. He could try and suppress it, try and cut it off maybe, but what good would that do, assuming it would even work? The damage had been done already. And it would continue.
He sighed. The anger was beginning to drain out of him, leaving him feeling empty. The girl stirred slightly in her sleep, mumbling something he didn’t quite catch. There was a frown on her face, which made him scowl in turn. He quietly moved closer to her and grasped her hand. He wasn’t sure what good it would do, but he felt slightly better. Perhaps because it was tangible. The frown disappeared - her neutral look returned. So it had helped.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. She smiled slightly at his voice. Two emotions rose to this, they were mingled. A tinge of pain and a twinge of happiness. Typical.
He’d start being around her more, he decided. Or having someone watch her. Part one of protecting was being attentive and alert. He toyed with the idea of taping her to the Master Emerald, and it brought a smile to his face, albeit small. His mood was beginning to lift when he realized he was smiling, and quickly reverted to a scowl. He had failed. He was in no position to be happy and smiling. She had gotten badly hurt, humiliated, and -- … he ended that trail of thought there. And because he had failed.
He let out another quiet sigh. He was not the person to do so, but it seemed to happen without him noticing. He saw her stir again, eyes opening blearily.
”Hey…” she smiled again.
”Go back to sleep. You need rest.”
”You should rest, too.”
”Hmph.” He didn’t grace the statement with any more answer than that.
”You’re so hard on yourself, Knuckles.”
”As hard as I need to be.”
She frowned at him, “You’re only mobian, you know.”
That was the second time he had heard that. Mighty had said it, and of course she would agree with him.
There was a pause. And then, only slightly softer:
”…Go back to sleep.”
She gave his hand a small squeeze. It didn’t comfort him in the least, but he appreciated the gesture (or tried to.) Then she closed her eyes again, and her body relaxed. As much as she claimed to hate being protected, he was there - she was aware that he was - and he gave no indication of leaving before the night was over. Possibly even longer. And she was sleeping with a smile on her face.
He found he had to smile, too. Just a little. But that smile didn’t change anything - failure or no, he was still a Guardian. And he’d make sure he stopped failing.
One way or another.
--
;; My last RP arc with Em, Blood Ties, ended on a somewhat angsty note (angsty for Knuckles, atleast)... I was toying with the idea of writing this, but then it just happened tonight. Will post this in creative journal later, too. Tired and pained now; will respond to comments tomorrow too.
He wasn’t sure why he had said it out loud. She was sleeping; he was sure of that. There was no one else around. He didn’t like to talk to himself.
The words echoed, but only in his mind. He clenched his fists and looked down at her. Every bruise, every bandage - things that weren’t covered by the blanket. He didn’t have to look under the blanket. He knew the wounds were there. The fact that there were wounds, so many, so deep - was a slap in the face to him. He gritted his teeth and looked away. The wounds on her. Mocked him. Just like his title.
Guardian.
He let out a short, derisive laugh at that. A gag reflex. He wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter. He unclenched his fists and clenched them again.
Guardian.
For all his power, for all his expertise, for all - everything - he had been helpless. Utterly utterly helpless to stop those wounds from happening. To stop that… that snake… from putting her filthy hands -
The memory only served to incense him further. If he was a person who cried, he might have cried then. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. He simply unclenched and clenched his fists again. He was the reason she had gotten hurt; more salt thrown in. The girl had suffered - was suffering, he corrected himself, because of him.
And to top it off he was helpless nearly the entire time.
That thought made his blood boil.
It was not supposed to be this way. He was the Guardian. The protector. He was supposed to protect and guard. He briefly considered sending her away - but that would solve nothing. The thought was gone, as quickly as it had came. They’d still come. And he wouldn’t be there at all.
It had not been this way with the Master Emerald. The one time it was broken - the few times it was jeopardized (yet saved, one way or another). But the Master Emerald was a gem - a gem of incredible power, an entity. But it could stay in the palace. This was a living breathing girl who had a mind of her own and somehow got herself into dangerous situations whenever he took his eyes off of her for five minutes or more. He considered her frail even though she could hold her own relatively well. Despite her prowess, she was small and skinny, and far weaker than he. She was currently asleep, and that only enforced this opinion. If he didn’t know her he’d be drawn to protect her - because it was his nature.
And now apparently his nature was to fail. This wasn’t the first failure. Nor was she the only one he failed to protect. And that frustrated him, more. RK’s earlier words came back to bite him.
“It happens, Knuckles. You aren't a god who can control everything around him. If you're going to allow yourself to care about her, think of her as your protectee, whatever, it's something you have to accept. You have a hard time just helping yourself. Like today.”
That only made him angrier. Not only that he was RK, the threatening Mighty had told him about earlier - and that attitude - but the words themselves. The last line was an utter line - most times. He had periods of weakness that he was no means proud of, but the android had made him out to be a weak helpless little boy.
He also assumed that he had control over his caring. Which he did not. He could try and suppress it, try and cut it off maybe, but what good would that do, assuming it would even work? The damage had been done already. And it would continue.
He sighed. The anger was beginning to drain out of him, leaving him feeling empty. The girl stirred slightly in her sleep, mumbling something he didn’t quite catch. There was a frown on her face, which made him scowl in turn. He quietly moved closer to her and grasped her hand. He wasn’t sure what good it would do, but he felt slightly better. Perhaps because it was tangible. The frown disappeared - her neutral look returned. So it had helped.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. She smiled slightly at his voice. Two emotions rose to this, they were mingled. A tinge of pain and a twinge of happiness. Typical.
He’d start being around her more, he decided. Or having someone watch her. Part one of protecting was being attentive and alert. He toyed with the idea of taping her to the Master Emerald, and it brought a smile to his face, albeit small. His mood was beginning to lift when he realized he was smiling, and quickly reverted to a scowl. He had failed. He was in no position to be happy and smiling. She had gotten badly hurt, humiliated, and -- … he ended that trail of thought there. And because he had failed.
He let out another quiet sigh. He was not the person to do so, but it seemed to happen without him noticing. He saw her stir again, eyes opening blearily.
”Hey…” she smiled again.
”Go back to sleep. You need rest.”
”You should rest, too.”
”Hmph.” He didn’t grace the statement with any more answer than that.
”You’re so hard on yourself, Knuckles.”
”As hard as I need to be.”
She frowned at him, “You’re only mobian, you know.”
That was the second time he had heard that. Mighty had said it, and of course she would agree with him.
There was a pause. And then, only slightly softer:
”…Go back to sleep.”
She gave his hand a small squeeze. It didn’t comfort him in the least, but he appreciated the gesture (or tried to.) Then she closed her eyes again, and her body relaxed. As much as she claimed to hate being protected, he was there - she was aware that he was - and he gave no indication of leaving before the night was over. Possibly even longer. And she was sleeping with a smile on her face.
He found he had to smile, too. Just a little. But that smile didn’t change anything - failure or no, he was still a Guardian. And he’d make sure he stopped failing.
One way or another.
--
;; My last RP arc with Em, Blood Ties, ended on a somewhat angsty note (angsty for Knuckles, atleast)... I was toying with the idea of writing this, but then it just happened tonight. Will post this in creative journal later, too. Tired and pained now; will respond to comments tomorrow too.