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His arms instinctively clenched into the folds of the sleek jacket, his words choked out as he felt his anger return to grief. The laughing gone, his voice hoarse from screaming with every punch, all he could do was let the final thing happen. He cried. This time there was no one here to comfort, no one he had to try and be strong for. So he cried harder than he ever had. He bawled like a baby, pressing against the man who caused all his grief in the most ironic twist of fate. He wanted to thrash, to bite, to just... give hell to this fat man who ruined his childhood. He wanted to curse his name, to drag him to the dungeons for all the shit he'd done, but here, standing in the cool air, feeling a grip that told of remorse and comfort... Gods, what changed...? "I'm sorry...'' Robotnik - no, this wasn't Robotnik, not even close - was so gentle. "I can't fix the mistakes I've made. And I would be a liar if I told you I'm suddenly a good guy now.'' The warmth receded, but a gentle hand was wiping his tears, another one taking ahold of his hand. "But, I want to make sure you know, I'm never touching Mobotropolis again. I crossed a line I never should have. Your kingdom will always be safe from me.'' Manic didn't want to believe anything that came out of his mouth, but there was just no way the evil dictator he knew from so long ago would ever hug him like that. He gave a shuddering breath, wondering if he was in a dream, only to bite back a gasp when the doc also had visible streaks between his eyes and mustache. Still, the doc remained strangely calm, as he stood back up to look out over the city. "...Time is a funny thing, isn't it, Manic? Here I am, a haggard old man with ambitions galore and regrets unfathomable, and you've transformed from a street punk with seismic drums to a proud prince.'' |
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Nowykowski7 |
