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It was the shaking of his shoulder that finally roused Tails from unconsciousness.
Thick, black ink covered every part of his vision at first, and his eyes squeezed tight with what little willpower he had available. That should’ve been the first sign that something went wrong. Sleeping usually wasn’t filed under issues for Tails, even when he didn’t reach above the knee level of now-Sonic. He could go to bed at four—and sure, he’d feel lethargic and groggy—but there wouldn’t be any issues with keeping the lights on. A double shot of dark-roasted espresso would fix most of the issues afterwards, and he’d be soldering wires in seconds. Now, though, he had to source every ounce of energy to not falter and slip from the thin thread of consciousness he held on to.
The second sign should’ve been when a warm sensation bloomed through his temple. A headache, Tails figured fairly quickly. It was paired with this strange, floating feeling he couldn’t quite shake off his nerves either, like his mind was drifting through outer space. He must have hit his head… somewhere. It wouldn’t be too uncommon. He did it plenty when working beneath the Tornado. But his gut should’ve told him this wasn’t the average feeling of bumping one’s head. Heck, the spinning world behind his closed eyes could’ve also easily foretold it, too.
But it didn’t. His mind was too oblivious, too muddled and confused, like the rest of his systems.
His shoulder shook again, this time more violently, as he sloshed against the tight harness of the cockpit seat.
He slurred out a raspy groan while his head dangled over the straps. The paw shaking him, Tails realized, became rougher and even more desperate now that he showed a sign of life, a raw groan that sounded much like it was forced through a grater. His brows scrunched at the sudden aggression, but his mind couldn’t quite grasp the reason. He did know, however, that it needed to quit.
Mustering control over his limbs, he fought to move them, tried to swat away the paw preventing him from falling into comfortable silence. Nothing moved. He only curled his fingers into a weak fist, his other muscles limp and hanging as dead weight, a far cry from the usual weakness he felt after a terrible night of sleep. He had to open his eyes to make it stop, didn’t he? Why would someone even need him that badly? Was something wrong? Did something happen to him—or worse, his friends?
He forced his eyes open, slowly, as his head flopped against the headrest. The world around him twisted in sick circles, and light stabbed into his eyes, making his aching temple pulse with even more force.
Nothing looked right…
None of this was familiar…
From what Tails could see, he wasn’t in his workshop, nor his house entirely. Green and brown blotches surrounded him on all sides. There were staggering redwood trees that almost pierced the clouds, while small deciduous trees surrounded those behemoths, destined to wilt by starvation of light. Tails didn’t know that, though. Sure, the clashing in his head suspected it was nature. But what kind of scenery was too big a question amidst his blurry vision. He also noticed the metallic red-and-grey construction built around him and the small seat he rested in.
The Tornado? What happened to the Tornado?
His eyes swayed towards the cracked window, where the crumpled nose of the plane sat attached, battered and scorched.
Small swirls danced from the cone-shaped nose, their colors a gradient between red and yellow. Tails gazed at them, trying to figure out what piece of the puzzle this was. It looked beautiful if you asked him, and it also created funny shapes, the swirls creeping over the shell of the plane at a snail’s pace. Fire? Like the scenery around him, he couldn’t quite decide what it was.
Though he had to admit, it definitely mesmerised him. He stared at it, until—
“T-Tails! C’mon.”
An urgent, almost desperate voice crackled through the static in his ears, drawing his attention away. His brows furrowed. It sounded… familiar, comforting, but it also sparked a weird warmth within his chest. The voice came from behind him, bouncing around his ears faintly. Someone was sitting in the passenger seat?
“Tails!” the voice shouted again.
Was it… Sonic? Is Sonic sitting behind him?
“S-Sonic?” Tails slurred out. The frantic shaking in his shoulder finally died down, confirming his thought in an instant.
Sonic gripped Tails’ shoulder firmly, then eased up to avoid hurting him. “Are you okay?” he asked, barely giving Tails a second to answer before he stated, "I'm gonna get you out of here. Can you—”
“Hi, Sonic,” Tails croaked out, cutting him off. He lolled his head to the side and peeked over the seat, the glint in his eyes completely vacant of any awareness. Though he couldn’t see Sonic completely, he did notice the hedgehog’s wide eyes and chattering jaw.
“Yeah, hi bud,” Sonic said flatly. ”Now’s not really the time for greetings, alright? Just—”
“Why’re you looking so funny at me?”
Sonic’s nose scrunched in mild annoyance, something that Tails’ keen eyes also picked up quickly. The fox’s lips parted, another vague question at the tip of his tongue, but Sonic seemed to beat him to it. “Not important,” he said. ”Just answer my question. Can you move or get out?”
Tails’ head drooped down to his arms, and he tried raising them for the second time, without success. “They are weak,” he rasped with a high-pitched wheeze. “But I like your face. It’s all… funny.”
Sonic glanced past Tails at the spreading fire, bit his lip, then glanced back at Tails. “We’ll do it the hard way then.”
He ducked down into the leg space, fingers snagging around for their emergency bag. A wave of warmth brushed over both of their fur, and the sensation tickled Tails slightly. At the top of the fox’s vision, fire crackled again, crawling closer this time. The entire nose was bedazzled with them now. Tails’ mind registered the shapes as fire. He definitely knew now. The problem was that the dangerous part of it still rang hollow to him. Its warmth made his eyes weigh down again, like he was wrapped in a thick blanket back at home, safe .
His eyes were almost sealed, sound asleep again, until his frame violently shook in the harness’s hold. The throbbing in Tails’ head spiked, and he barely suppressed a wince as Sonic’s voice cut through the fog in his head.
“Stay awake,” Sonic ordered. The hedgehog was sitting straight again while their old drawstring backpack dangled from his paws. He swung it behind his back in a singular motion, then looped the other arm through it, pulling the cords tight afterwards to ensure a snug fit that wouldn’t sag while escorting Tails.
When the cords dug firmly into his chest and he sat positioned right, Sonic clambered out of his seat. A small hiss sizzled out between gritted teeth as he wobbled upright, and he spared a painful glance at the swollen ankle, which banged against the interior when they crashed. Tails heard the hissing and shuffling behind him, his ears perking up at the commotion Sonic is causing, but his head leaned too far into warmth's embrace to care to turn. It was already enough of a task to pin his eyes open as it is, to keep himself from fading away a third time.
As Tails fought to keep himself awake, Sonic crouched low, his body tense as he edged along the side of the cockpit seat. Fingers were curled into the cushion like life depended on it, and every foot placed made his face wrinkle in agony. A misstep was also almost made along the way. He just barely dodged a sprained ankle, which would go well with the glowing bump already there.
After passing the seat, Sonic put himself between Tails and the searing fire. They locked eyes—one pumped full of adrenaline and the other glassy—and Tails couldn’t bite back a goofy smile.
He watched brightly as Sonic scanned him up and down for any injuries, any place that sustained bruising or wounds. Sonic’s expression shifted, concerned features becoming more defined with each passing second. His eyebrows kept climbing higher, while eyes narrowed, like he’d spotted something Tails failed to notice.
“Did I do something wrong?” Tails croaked, his smile sagging.
Sonic’s eyes focused on Tails’ forehead, where a blood-soaked smear of purple festered. “ Gaia ,” he hissed, completely ignoring Tails’ question again, “couldn’t have hit your head harder, huh?”
Perplexion struck Tails’ face, as if Sonic had stated something completely lunatic and crazy. “Hit my head? Did I?”
His mind circled back to the pulsing in his temple, and for the second time, he considered the idea of hitting his head… somewhere. The thought about working beneath the Tornado also struck again, like earlier. Though he couldn’t recollect thinking about both anymore. They were as good as erased, and he simply walked in circles with an occasional feeling of familiarity tinged to it. It was the first sign of going crazy, was it?
It kept his mind occupied, something to figure out, as Sonic bent down on his knees, unclipping the harness and looping his arms under Tails’ armpits. A soft, strained whimper escaped Tails as he felt himself being pried away from the seat, Sonic’s arms locking behind his back with deliberate effort. The hedgehog gave a brief nod, a signal asking if Tails was ready. Tails gave a half-nod in return. With a grunt, Sonic braced himself, and his muscles trembled for many more reasons than strain. Tails’ upper body sagged within Sonic’s hold soon enough. He could see flickers of pain coursing through Sonic’s features while his injured leg spasmed beneath him. Then, Tails’ upper legs came free, raising in the air before—
Pain.
Tails’ face wrung in agony as he bellowed out a hoarse wail.
Sonic recoiled, instinctively dropping Tails before the fox scrabbled to sit upright. He pressed himself half-heartedly against the seat to calm the beating aches in his lower half, anything to ease the searing pain—pain which even eclipsed the pounding in his skull by a thousandfold. His trembling arms clench into fists to redirect the pain, while his breath came out in short, labored puffs.
“W-What happened?!” Sonic blurted out, wide-eyed.
Tails let out a small whimper as another wave of pain rushed through his nerves. Between the surges shocking his body, he rasped, “l-leg.”
Sonic’s eyes trailed downwards, landing on Tails’ leg. The fox could hear Sonic’s breath hitch with a sharp swig, like all the air had been punched out of his gut, as ears plastered against the hedgehog’s head. Gritting his teeth against the burning sensation, Tails followed Sonic’s gaze. His eyes dropped down, glancing at the leg that made his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, and a small “ Oh… ” escaped him.
His leg… it was… it was… bent. Bent at an angle that couldn’t be healthy. Bent in a way that no leg should ever be able to. It made Tails’ blood turn icy despite the warmth flooding him.
“ Oh, chaos… ” Sonic mumbled. Tails could see the panic flickering through Sonic’s eyes, a wave of questions without answers, problems without any clear fix. Tails wanted to help Sonic; he wished more than anything to be useful, but he had never felt so disposable in his life before. His arms still hung limp, cradled by the seat and tucked against his body as his head fought against the agony and fog clouding his eyes. He couldn’t quite remember what old Tails would say in such a situation, but it was clear he wouldn’t be happy, probably even scolding him for his worthlessness.
A sharp ring snapped Tails out of his thoughts. Glass shards sliced through the air as the cockpit window shattered, flames scuttling over the entire front and wings of the plane. Sonic barked out a string of curses as he flicked his head behind him, the panic on his face breaking out to full fear as strokes of fire tickled his tail.
“We don’t have time,” he muttered, glancing back at Tails. “Sorry, bud.”
Without as much as a flicker of warning, Sonic lurched down, ripping Tails from his seat. Tails howled as his twisted leg scraped against the interior, grating over the scorched panels still radiating heat from the fire below. His face drained of all color, and it felt like the maneuver dragged on for far longer than it ever should, tears prickling the corner of his eyes as he dangled in Sonic’s embrace.
“You're strong, bud. Show your strength,” Sonic whispered with strain, shifting his paw under Tails’ frame for support while the other lay on the fox’s back, pressing him firmly against Sonic.
But Tails couldn’t find strength.
He could only do as much as choke on his own breath while darkness crept into the corner of his vision. He bit it back, or at least, tried to with the best of his capabilities. He was just too far in to give up. The constant urge to lift his head despite it lolling back afterwards proved it. It was some kind of sick tug-of-war game between his will and body, one that involved suffering on a level Tails had never felt.
The battle kept his mind swallowed, too consumed to even notice Sonic edging towards the plane’s side before slipping off. In an instant, they hit the ground, and Sonic couldn’t breathe a more relieving sigh.
They were safe.
It didn’t really reach Tails that they were safe; nothing really reached him in his current state as his paws pressed into Sonic’s chest, a safety anchor for his sanity. Sonic, scanning his surroundings, frowned at the scuffling Tails did. His sharpened eyes search for an open clearing—a place that would allow emergency services to land. The chilly shadows they were cast in made everything feel distant, and the staggering redwood trees weren’t forgiving for either of them. They stretched on in rows far beyond the horizon while the mulch made his sneakers sink slightly.
With no set destination visible, Sonic began limping forward.
As they distanced themselves from the wreckage, Tails couldn’t tear his eyes off the Tornado. Over Sonic’s shoulder, he watched flames envelop the cockpit, a was-to-be grave for both of them if Sonic hadn’t pried him away. The plane kept growing tinier, tinier until it was just a small firefly lighting up a dark forest. So did Tails' consciousness.
Every once in a while, he tried fighting back against Sonic’s hold, a rush of discomfort flooding him. He would push against Sonic’s chest to distance himself, to quiet the overwhelming sensations crawling through his skin. Sonic ignored every fragile protest and forced the fox even closer to him, offering his warmth, his racing heartbeat—something to ground Tails, even if it is tinier than a grain. It made Tails calm again, momentarily forgetting the reason why he squirmed in the first place.
It also made the darkness creeping at the edges more malleable. With each weak push against Sonic, it pressed harder and heavier. Tails’ will wasn’t enough to keep it at bay anymore. It was a fight that couldn’t be won, a fight that tuckered him out more than he’d like to admit. So he let it consume him, slowly, as his head drooped back.
A small flicker of lucidity passed through his eyes, just enough to get a final glimpse of the world.
Then everything went radio-silent.
As Tails fell unconscious, Sonic instinctively shifted his paw up, resting it on the back of Tails’ head for support. Luckily for Tails, it seemed that him being awake wasn’t in Sonic’s interest anymore. There was a noticeable lack of shaking, any name-calling, or cheek-tapping to capture his attention. The hedgehog just hummed a shallow tune as he staggered past lines of trees. They kept this up the entire way. Every thirty minutes, Tails’ consciousness would resurface. He would babble out a few words, complaining about the pain or asking confusing questions. Sonic would scrunch his brows at it, trying to piece together what Tails said, before faintly nodding and humming in acknowledgment.
Then, Tails would faint away again—draped in Sonic’s embrace, lulled by the quiet humming and a faux expectation that everything would be alright.
The fire was behind them now; he was safe. All they had to do was keep walking
When Tails rose from unconsciousness for the fourth time, things had changed drastically.
Before even getting a grasp of his surroundings or his insides, the first realization already hit Tails' mind like a brick wall. His thoughts, they felt… clearer, clearer than they had since the crash. Not the sharp, crystal-clear clarity of a perfect day or the mischievous glint in his eyes before everything went sideways, but a subtle shift that lifted the fog from the corners of his mind. He actually had a voice he could follow, a voice that didn’t switch on a dime and sold faux truths at every corner, telling him that everything was fine as flames snaked through the plane. It sparked hope within him that felt unkillable, so unkillable his eyes sprang wide open without any warning, the change so sudden it left him breathless.
As his pupils constricted to adjust to the brightness, awareness began to settle in. He noticed they were in an open field, a clearing, just like Sonic mumbled through one of Tails’ flickers of lucidity. Warm sunlight beamed plenty now that they sifted through thick forests, and it wrapped his fur in a warm embrace that was sure to replenish his vitamins in a finger snap.
Their seating arrangement got set up at the edge of the clearing. It ensured they had a perfect overview of time and other variables that Tails didn’t quite have knowledge of. He also noticed the soft, soily cushion against his back, which was intertangled with small roots that jabbed his fur—an uprooted tree toppled down on the border of the clearing. With the redwood’s gigantic size, it could easily fit ten of Tails without a hitch, and honestly, it beat leaning against thick tree bark that always scraped his back.
Squirming to find a more comfortable position, Tails breathed out a strained sigh as he found a section with fewer roots poking his back. Sonic, sitting beside him and riffling through their emergency bag, flicked his ear at the commotion. He paused, turned around, and couldn’t bite back a grin when both of their eyes met.
“Heyyy, buddy,” Sonic cooed. He leaned closer to Tails, wiping a smudge of dirt off the fox’s muzzle. “Looks like sleepy-princess is awake. How’re you feeling?”
Tails held his breath until Sonic finished picking, and his voice could easily be considered rougher than sandpaper. “Could be better… I guess…”
“That's what I already expected,” Sonic said softly. “Just keep holding tight like you’re doing. I already called the rescue services. They should be on their way.”
“Oh… Okay… And what have you been doing?”
“Me?” Sonic rolled his eyes up thoughtfully, as if it totally wasn’t a hard question for him. ”Trying to not doze off. I could go for a pretty good nap right now if it weren’t for the stakes. All this mulling around just isn’t meant for me.”
Tails arched a brow. “And you’re saying that after… everything? ”
“Uh-huh, definitely am! I bet you would also rather be in your own bed than sit here.”
Tails bit his lip bashfully. “Uhm—well… I do kinda miss my soft pillow, but”—a hoarse cough escaped him—“that would be giving you the answer you want, and I’m supposed to be reluctant right now.”
“Then it seems the crash hasn’t shaken you up enough yet,” Sonic concluded, giving a playful nudge that quickly fell flat on Tails’ side. Another hoarse cough wracked the fox’s frame, and for a moment, he thought he was about to regurgitate his intestines. He didn’t even get a chance to protest, to let out another faint croak, as Sonic pressed a bottle in his paws.
“Drink it,” he instructed.
Tails’ heart didn’t skip a beat. Paws trembled as he pressed the bottle to his lips, and his throat was ready to savor every droplet, quenching his voice-crushing thirst. He first took a small sip to get a feel of the sensation, then threw the bottle back and guzzled it down.
“How late d’you think we’ll be home?” he questions in between chugs, almost choking on the liquid several times.
“I know as much as you, buddy,” Sonic watched with concern over Tails’ drinking. ”We’re still waiting on those slow-pokes and their helicopter.”
Tails slurped down the last sliver of water, then rubbed his muzzle clean of spillage with the back of his paw. “And then go to the hospital?”
“Yep. Get the paperwork filed, find you a cozy room. Y'know the deal.”
Tails’ muzzle quirked to one side. “I hope they at least give me a one-person room.”
“Oh, they will.” Sonic jabbed an index finger into his chest. ”When I tell them that the hero of Mobius wants to coddle with you, they’ll be forced to give you the luxury room.”
Tails’ cheeks puff up. “Amn’t I too old for that? I’m an older fox now. You can’t do—”
“Hogwash!” Sonic exclaimed, shifting his finger from his chest and pressing it against Tails’ nose. “I know you like it, and I’m not accepting any other answers. End of story.”
Tails blew out a short, disapproving huff at those words, but Sonic wasn’t necessarily wrong. When mulling all day in the hospital, Sonic’s cosseting was his favourite part. Whether it be playing simple games like spot-the-colour or word-chain, to Sonic snuggling up beside him, letting him dig his snout into the older’s neck crook. It always managed to subvert his attention from the rustle and bustle around them—something that currently missed as a comfortable silence pressed his ears. He tepidly watched over Sonic as the hedgehog spelunked through their sack, popping his head out a few beats later.
In his paw lay a roll of pristine, white gauze, which had never felt a ray of sunshine before. The pair of scissors was practically the same, too, despite the brutal weather the Tornado had braved. Tails gave a quick inspection of the materials, and it didn’t take long before he could piece together Sonic’s intentions. It made the fur between his ears bristle as he already imagined the pain the tight wrappings would cause around his knee. He just really didn’t want to; he had already suffered enough pain through the last hours, but Sonic seemed to glance right over the desperate plea in his eyes.
As Sonic unrolled the mesh material and stretched it before the wound below his bangs, Tails’ ears lowered out of reluctance—another thing Sonic plainly ignored, though Tails knew this was meant with good intentions, like the rest of the gestures.
Methodically, the hedgehog began wrapping the material around his head. Each time the roll came full circle, the pressure on the gash grew heavier. The previously quiet stinging also became far more present as his head got encircled in a firm hug that Tails would rather deny. He had to remind himself multiple times that he’ll get used to the sensation, the temporary aching slowly winding down as time passed… or at least, that’s what Tails hopes. Right now, it only serves as a reminder of the fact that his twisted knee is yet to come.
It made Tails realize he needed a different approach, a method to divert his thoughts from the increasing pressure on his temple. Before even deciding what that approach would be, his muzzle took control over the situation. It slipped open and asked, “What even happened?”
With the handle of the scissors clamped between his teeth, Sonic replied in a half-muffled voice, “You crashed, buddy.”
Tails’ face scrunches as another layer wrapped over the wound, his mind trying its best to not trail off again. “Yeah, but how?” he asked as confused eyes looked up to meet Sonic’s focused ones. “Don’t remember any of it. It's all a blurry mess.”
“That’s for the better,” Sonic stated pointedly as he tucked the gauze behind an earlier layer. ”I’m not quite sure if those tails are gonna start wagging when I tell you.”
“I did something stupid, didn’t I?” Tails guessed, and Sonic’s handy work momentarily hitched, giving plenty of confirmation for Tails.
The hedgehog didn’t respond verbally. He remained silent, completely. Instead, he shot Tails a faux, warm smile. It felt like a weak attempt to cover up or divert Tails’ attention, but the fox was too sly, and the seed had already been planted inside his head. He still didn’t have the real explanation, but he was set on the right track, one he knows he’ll regret. The curiosity just felt like too much to handle for him.
His gaze stayed fixed on Sonic, eyes unblinking and pleading for an answer like a kid desiring a candy from the candy aisle. Tails could see Sonic try his best to ignore eye contact, but they would always flick back for a split second before flitting away again, focused on wrapping the gauze. The hedgehog unclamped his jaw after a few more circles, grabbed the scissors, and used them to snip the material. A taut knot got cinched into place, sure to never loosen and apply even pressure to the wound, and Sonic’s eyes travelled back to meet Tails’, whose gaze still burned into the back of Sonic’s eye sockets.
Finally, the hedgehog gave an exasperated sigh, his defenses lowered as they gave into the curiosity shimmering from Tails’ eyes. “ Alright… ” he groaned.
Tails’ ears sprang stiff into the air, ready and sharp to listen as anticipation flitted across his features. He didn’t know what to expect. The only clue provided to him was that he did something , though it remained rather ambiguous while Sonic stretched a strip of mesh above his knee, explaining the situation in a rather artless voice.
“We were flying,” he began. ”You in front, I in back…”
“Our destination was a tech lab in Empire City. One of your cool science-y pals needed you.” It all rang hollow to Tails as Sonic wound the gauze around his knee, touch as soft as feathers, precision as sharp as scalpels. “It was some groundbreaking innovation that had ya’r tails wagging the whole ride through. Something ‘bout a quantum-neural-thingamajig, or a small chip. That’s what you said, at least.”
Tails winced as the netting pulled stiff across the broken joint, the flaring pain muddying any of Sonic’s explanation to mush. But Sonic waited, patiently—patiently like the good older brother Sonic was until Tails' strained breath became easy. When the ache became manageable again, Sonic continued. “Midway into the journey, you told me y’knew a way-cool trick. You were talking how it exceeded ‘Sonic-coolness’ levels and such.”
Tails’ gut already felt the direction it was going in, a direction that stood at the bottom of his wish-list. It snuffed out any spark of anticipation that flickered on his features, perked ears slowly folding down against his skull, and he couldn’t help but wish Sonic would stop his explanation. He would open his muzzle, protest, and tell Sonic to stop for his own sake. But his voice stayed stuffed inside his throat, trapped between the sinking feeling in his stomach and the gnawing need to hear the whole story. He hoped, somehow, that there would be a good ending to it, an ending that didn’t revolve around him doing something childlike to impress Sonic.
Except… he couldn’t imagine how that would be possible.
Deep down, he knew for a fact that impressing Sonic was just a part of him. He always did it, no matter how often it backfired, getting both of them in danger, like the stupid, stupid fox he was.
With ears folded against his skull, tails twisted around his frame, and a wish to run away harder than he ever could, Tails kept listening to Sonic. The hedgehog stretched another layer across the mangled section as he continued explaining.
“Suddenly, you pulled the yoke and the plane jerked. Your smart brain didn’t even give me a second to react before a bang sounded. It was your head bashing against the dashboard.” Tails didn’t even feel the burning in his knee anymore. He didn’t feel anything anymore, only a slight tinge of numbness as he blankly stared at the mulchy cushion below them, the scene replaying note for note inside his head. “I can still hear the thud and squeak you let out before it was lights-out. I wanted to ask you if you were okay, but it was already too late. Your head hung, and we were going down.”
Tails finally mustered a question, and guilt seeped through every cord of his voice as he asked, “But… but didn’t the emergency-land-stabilization system kick in?”
“It did,” Sonic stated matter-of-the-factly. “Otherwise I could’ve assured you that we wouldn’t be sitting here. But even before that, I tried regaining control of the plane. But those, err, g-thingies, were too high for me to even lift my own head.”
He tugged at the gauze swathed around Tails’ injury, ensuring the material remained tense. And even despite the sharp pain making Tails’ leg twitch, the fox remained silent, hanging on every single word as Sonic kept his explanation going. “So I did what’s best and shielded myself, ‘cause I knew you were gonna need me afterwards, and me being a big, ol’ mess myself wasn’t really a strategic move. So, I lay low as we darted down, and we hit a couple of trees before crashing into the ground…”
“That’s basically what happened…”
Tails didn’t even respond as silence consumed both of them, not a flicky in the forest to substitute for their conversation. It felt like he had lost his voice, ashamed to consider using it in front of Sonic himself. His eyes, too, stayed fixed on anything but Sonic, even when he felt the hedgehog’s eyes on him. He could only imagine Sonic’s expression spelling out “Told you it wasn’t pretty” bolder than any neon billboard he’d seen.
And it was true. It wasn’t pretty for his self-esteem.
In fact, it was probably the worst blow he’s ever gotten. It didn’t come close to that time he accidentally told Eggman his fake emerald was actually fake, or the time his blind-sightedness let a real emerald slip.
No, this hit way deeper than any mistake he ever made.
Right now, he felt like an absolute child, a callow child whose head was too far in the clouds to realize he wasn’t some kind of big-shot. Always trying to show off, always desperate to impress, as if he were the next Sonic—Sonic, who can do the coolest tricks and get away unscathed. He just wanted that same energy. That effortless cool, that confidence seeping from every quill on Sonic’s body, which had every teenage fangirl swarming him for autographs. Heck, Tails couldn’t recall a single time someone had asked him for an autograph . And yeah, Tails loves the attention his big bro gets. He wouldn’t like it any other way, nor any other person in the entire world, really. He would even put Sonic before himself for Gaia's sake.
But looking at his grotesque leg, the wound on his head, and Sonic’s sore ankle, it all seemed like it made sense. Who would want an autograph from him—him who puts his friends in danger and does stupid stunts that could’ve gotten them both killed ?
“I know a way-cool trick.”
“It exceeds Sonic-levels of coolness.”
Absolutely not.
Tails couldn’t keep his head from cycling through every word that he spouted out, each so self-assured that it didn’t even belong in his own muzzle. It made him want to pluck out every tuft on his tail-tips, his fingers absentmindedly fidgeting and pulling on the strands. He had to even remind himself to breathe calmly, his breath hitching at every thought Sonic would have about his stunt. Out of every person who will ever hear this story, he felt ashamed about Sonic the most, the person who was practically a mirror for him.
The hedgehog must feel absolutely embarrassed by the display he put up. Maybe he even hated it. Hated how he tried to be a show-off. Hated the foolish way he was cradled by his seat, letting the flames consume his frame as he slurred out nonsense.
It was all childish, childish, and childish.
Just like everything he did.
He was so consumed by the tornado inside his head that he didn’t notice Sonic roll the last layer of protection over. The hedgehog once again used his scissors to snip off the mesh and tie a sturdy knot in place, stuffing it behind one of the earlier layers he had wrapped. It wasn’t as firm as the bandage around his head, but it felt stable enough to give even protection and stability, like a sort of brace.
As Sonic stuffed away the little remaining feet of gauze, Tails inspected the packaging around his knee, but didn’t care about speaking, thanking, or even showing the glint in his eye. Why would he even need to thank him, after all? It was his stupid idea that caused this absolute nightmare to begin with. His ears twitched as Sonic shifted, the few roots poking his back shifting along as Sonic lounged back. Tails would, too, if he could muster, but he didn’t deserve to be lounging alongside Sonic. He didn’t deserve to act like Sonic at all, to be as cool as him, slouched with his paws behind his back, and have a confident smirk on his muzzle.
So, with his head drooping, he remained seated upright. His claws still twisted and tugged at the same tail-tip, a feeble anchor to keep him from unravelling completely. And still, it wasn’t enough.
It didn’t even take a full two minutes of silence before he cracked open, the plucking of his tails turning further into ripping with each ticking second. He wanted to tug his ears down, tug on the tufts of his muzzle, and tug his tails out of his spine. Anything to ease the pressure. A sigh escaped him, shaky, collapsing in on itself until there was nothing left to exhale.
He didn’t cry. He didn’t make a show. He didn’t desire attention. He only mumbled in a quiet, guilt-ridden voice.
“‘M sorry, Sonic.”
Sonic’s keen eyes had already noticed the fox’s struggles, and his smirky muzzle couldn’t keep itself from softening. His voice, too, became much gentler as he said, “It’s okay, buddy. There’s no need for an apology.”
“There is,” Tails immediately insisted, picking his tail again. “You deserve one.”
Sonic caught Tails’ paw and stilled it. “Would saying it help your feelings?”
With his head still lowered, Tails managed to give a faint nod.
Sonic took Tails’ paw firmly in his grasp and exclaimed, “Alright then. Tell me, keed. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Tails sat still for a moment, staring at where both of their paws met. “It’s… It’s the nerves,” he began. ”It’s the nerves I had to believe I can be you.”
“Be me? There isn’t anything wrong with that?”
“There is,” Tails admitted, and he felt Sonic lightly squeeze his paw. “I thought I could do a stunt only s-stupid people would do. Got you hurt, me hospitalised, ruined your plane and everything. I still act like a foolish little kit, and I know you feel the same way. You just won’t say it.”
“Hey, hey, hey. There’s no need to put such lame words in my mouth.”
“See, an adult would’ve known not to say that,” Tails murmured as he turned his head away. “Point proven.”
Sonic’s smile crooked at those words, and he couldn’t help but stare at Tails’ paw, still held tight in his grasp.
He didn’t even give a spoken word or a prior warning before he shifted. He slid closer to Tails, bumping against the fox’s side as he settled, but neither one ever let go of their respective hands. Tails squeezed Sonic’s bigger paw in surprise, just like how he took a steadying breath that sounded halfway between relief and embarrassment as Sonic seized control.
The hedgehog guided their joined paws up—up to Tails’ own chest, pressing it firm against his beating heart with enough pressure to make it pulse along. “Who saved Station Square all on his own?” Sonic began. “Who saved me when I was falling down from the death egg? Who helped me defeat an evil madman multiple times?”
Tails looked down at his paw, still pushed against his chest. “M-Me… but those were highlights. You didn’t factor in how many times I’ve failed, or-or been dead weight to you.”
“Alright, and can you remind me how old you are again?”
“E-Eight?”
“Exactly!” Sonic exclaimed. ”And, hey, while we’re at it, can you also tell me what eight-year-olds do?”
“Play hopscotch and color in messy drawings?”
“Correct! And I don’t see your foxy tush doing that.” Sonic released Tails’ paw, then gently took it by the wrist, placing it fully against the fox’s own chest.“That means you are the coolest eight-year-old ever in my eyes, Tails—and I mean it.”
Tails kept his hand against his heart. “C-Coolest? Even when I do stupid stuff?”
“Yeah, even when you do stupid stuff. It still takes guts to do that, y’know.”
“R-Really?”
“Really,” Sonic echoed back softly.
“Then we’re both cool.”
“We absolutely are.” Sonic banded an arm around Tails. ”We’re the coolest fox and hedgehog the earth will ever see. The dynamic duo, an unbreakable bond, freedom fighters for life even!”
Tails snorted lightly. “That’s just cliche, Sonic.”
“And I know you love it deeply,” Sonic added on, rubbing Tails’ arm with his looped paw.
Tails’ lips tightened into a smile that just wasn’t possible to bite back. It felt alienating after everything that happened, wrong even, but also right in so many other ways. A chuckle escaped him as Sonic mussed his fur up further, creating a spiky mess before smoothing it back to its sleek profile. It was practically worthless given how dirty and matted his fur was, but Tails supposed it was the gesture that counted.
“Can we play hopscotch when I feel better?” he asked as Sonic freed him from the side hug. ”I wanna know what it’s like.”
“Curious one, aren’t ya?” Sonic teased. Tails bobbed his head bashfully, and Sonic continued. “We’ll do it, pal! I’ll show you how a real professional plays hopscotch—with obstacles included!”
Tails gave a gentle gasp. “Like hopping backwards, or maybe one where you have to jump like a flicky? That’s what I see kids always do.”
“You got it! But make it more gnarly. We’re not the training wheel team, after all.”
“Yeah!”
With his chest lightened just a little further, Silence was quick to embrace them again; the world resumed its spinning as it tended to.
Sonic lazily flopped back down again, flinging one leg over the other with grace that spoke volumes of his nonchalance. His muzzle, too, curled into that trademark smirk, which couldn’t boast more than “Best brother of the year” as he tapped his knee in a steady rhythm.
Tails touched a finger against his lips, watching over Sonic with his tails idly thumping against the dirt. It didn’t stray far from the usual he knew, a tinge of familiarity comforting him. It reminded him of everyday life, when Sonic lazed in the shade as he busied himself with a screwdriver and gizmo in his paw. Sonic would make a few sparse quips or snort at the unusual fashion statements people would make while visiting Mystic Ruins. They’d make a bet out of it, wagering to see who’d spot the worst from their front-row seats. White high heels sinking into mud, dresses that belonged in a gala slathered in gunk, and a general brave sense of style while being out in the bushy jungles; they were all a faux pas sold by brochures in station square kiosks. And seeing people fall for it was worth more than gold for them, managing to brighten especially dim days where they found themselves beneath those palm leaves.
A fond smile curved Tails’ muzzle at those thoughts. They were plain, almost every day life for him, but he currently couldn’t desire it more than his little, beating heart would allow.
He wriggled, and his hands pushed back into dirt as he scuttled against the uprooted tree. His broken leg was quite unwilling, but a small tug and wince got it to cooperate, his frame slouching back in a position that vaguely resembled Sonic’s. Not even a single mind was paid, a consideration of his worth as he folded his paws behind his head, another gesture that oozed Sonic’s confidence.
Because after all, Sonic was a mirror for him.
Maybe not a perfect mirror, maybe also not fully spotless or one that shone brighter than any sun could. But it was a perfect reflection of how he would want to grow, a reflection he loved. Sonic would poke his tongue out in disgust, even call those words mushy, but to Tails, it was just a simple truth. The hedgehog was a guide for him, an example of how to do every gesture perfectly. He mimicked it, practising until he got it down to finger flick. Every gesture, every stride, every casual confidence was a reflection Tails would chase like a fox kit pouncing after a butterfly.
And no, Tails isn’t going to sit here and act like Sonic was the full hundred percent every single time. Sultry expressions and waves of petulance were as much a part of the package deal.
But he took it for granted. It was still cool in his opinion. It was his Sonic.
Sonic, who showed him how to be a fox. Sonic, who revealed the true meaning of life to him. Every step Sonic taught him was a step closer to freedom. Every stub his snout made taught him that it was okay to make mistakes. Every cord of guilt struck made him realize he wasn’t worthless. Everyone makes messes sometimes, Sonic included. His blissful ignorance may forget that sometimes, too jaded by the hedgehog’s cocky smirk, but it’s part of imperfection.
And as far as imperfections and mirrors go, Tails figured that maybe one day, he’d learn to see himself clearly in it—reflecting what he’d learned from Sonic while having wings of his own to spread.
But for now, being like Sonic was alright for him. Being cool—though a bit childish—was also alright.
After all, it still takes guts to do that.
And his knee was a living proof.
A proof that he had what it took as the thrum of helicopter blades echoed from afar.