Work Text:
It’s three in the morning – and Tails’s couch is empty.
Which wouldn’t be a problem, except Sonic is supposed to be sleeping on Tails’s couch right now. Like he has for the last three weeks.
Tails isn’t sure if it gives him more anxiety that Sonic’s not here… or that he’s been regularly crashing anywhere, even if it is with Tails, in the house that Sonic technically owns. Either way, it’s making Tails nervous as he stares into the empty space that should be Sonic, drooling into Tails’s throw pillows.
(Well. Amy’s throw pillows, gifted to Tails for the sole purpose of trying to make his space look less like an 8 year old’s bachelor pad. Ignoring the fact that that was the best thing about it, the pillows weren’t… awful. Just a little boring. Which is why he didn’t mind Sonic using them as a pincushion and drool-catcher.)
Tails walks closer to the couch, as if expecting Sonic to miraculously turn up. Like he’s been hiding behind the couch the whole time and is just waiting to pop out and shout ‘Boo!’ and give Tails a real heart attack.
Which – in all fairness, he’s done before. It is, after all, three in the morning. Tails isn’t supposed to be up either. For years, Sonic has snuck up on him late at night just to bully him into going to bed. Big brother privilege means getting to laugh his ass off at Tails … who regrettably falls for it every single time. Mostly because he lowers his guard after his twenty-second hour awake.
But Sonic doesn’t pop out and say boo. There’s not even any fresh quills on the couch. The blankets haven’t been touched since Tails laid out fresh ones late this afternoon, for when (he thought) Sonic would inevitably roll through. That means Sonic hasn’t even been here.
Tails picks up the fresh blanket and hugs it to his chest.
It’s probably dumb that this is bothering him.
Sonic’s never stayed in one place for long. This shouldn’t be a big deal. This shouldn’t be a worry, or a concern, or even a passing thought, at all. Sonic’s never even had a consistent sleep schedule, so it shouldn’t bother Tails that he’s not here. Even if Sonic has been in this routine for three weeks. And has been regularly checking in with Tails every day until today. And hasn’t disappeared without sending him a message ahead of time to warn him… ever since he got back from being held captive on the Death Egg.
It shouldn’t bother Tails that Sonic isn’t here. Because Sonic’s the adult (...er, sort of), and he’s a hero, and he’s defied death like eight times already, so Tails should really just trust him to sort himself out.
But.
But.
After Infinite…
And after the last seven months…
It worries Tails. No matter how much he wants to pretend it’s not a big deal… Even if it shouldn’t be a big deal, it feels like a big deal.
Tails rubs under his eyes. Only his big brother could give him a heart attack like this over something as dumb as not following a sleep schedule. Maybe this is just karma for Sonic worrying over Tails’s sleep schedule through the years.
Whatever it is, Tails needs to let it go, and go to bed. Sonic isn’t here. And Tails, and any bedtime-related shenanigans, and how he feels about Sonic’s absence, isn’t a thought in his mind, nor does he need to be.
Maybe this could even be a good thing. A positive thing.
A return to normal. Sonic finally returning to his speedy, carefree version of normal – camping out under the stars and exploring the world. Chaos knows they need to go back to normal eventually.
And if Tails is being honest… Sonic could benefit from not being beholden to anyone else for a while, even if that means not being near Tails. He’s been off. Not sleeping much, still not eating enough. When he’s around friends, Sonic tends to care about their needs way more than his own – but his own needs are pretty significant. Maybe going off on his own for a bit could help him…? Tails isn’t fully convinced, seeing as the best outcome would be Sonic letting his friends help him. But that feels like a pipe dream, honestly.
Either way, Sonic could use some time to relax and do whatever he wants. Heck, Sonic only defeated Infinite a month ago! Usually he needs time to chill out after big adventures anyways. That goes double… no, a lot more than that, this time.
After all, for six months, Sonic was-…
Yeah, Tails thinks. No wonder Sonic didn’t want to be cooped up at Tails’s place tonight.
Tails sighs, and sets the blanket back down just in case Sonic does pop by.
Whatever Tails expected after Sonic came back from the Death Egg, it wasn’t this. But that’s okay. He’d rather have a million unfulfilled expectations for his big brother. Because at least he has a big brother again.
Tails had been so sure Sonic was dead, for so long. And then, when doubt crept in and the details didn’t add up – then he’d been so fixated on getting him back, that there wasn’t any point thinking about the future with Sonic. Only the future of finding Sonic. And making it up to his big brother for being such a failure.
Which he knows Sonic would be upset with him if he knew that’s how Tails felt.
Though Tails was definitely coming into his own for tech stuff, and becoming pretty different than a kid who just imitated or idolized his hero… there were still things he’d picked up on from Sonic over the years. (More than just how to order the best chili-dog.) One of the big ones was the core belief of: do what you can, when you can. There’s no point in dwelling on the past, and you can worry about the future later. Just work on making the present the best it can be.
(And boy, that would sure annoy Silver if he knew that’s real advice Sonic gave on the regular.)
So, according to that philosophy, Tails shouldn’t be dwelling on the past.
Still… it’s hard to move on from how disappointed his big brother must be with him. His inability to help had major consequences. Not only was Sonic hurt, but the whole world almost fell. All because of Tails.
Tails rubs his arm. …It’s colder tonight than he realized. He’ll need to fix the heat tomorrow morning when he wakes up… Or maybe even tonight, if Sonic’s not here to bully him to go to sleep. Either way, since Sonic won’t be coming home tonight, Tails reaches the blanket and pulls it around his shoulders, before heading to the kitchen to grab a soda.
He leans into the fridge, reaching to the very back to find the good stuff.
But when he pulls it out of the fridge and cracks it open, there’s a much bigger rush of wind than there’s supposed to be.
The soda is abruptly pulled out of Tails’s hands, and he watches in stunned, three-in-the-morning disbelief as his big brother drinks the whole soda in front of him.
“Wh- but- You- Sonic!” Tails starts.
“This is a lot of caffeine to drink so late at night, little bro. You weren’t planning on staying up any later… Were you?”
Sonic’s absolutely, disgustingly, chipper. Calm as anything, just standing in the kitchen like he didn’t have Tails worried.
Tails stares, almost not believing he’s here at all.
Then, abruptly, his eyes water.
It’s so stupid. He shouldn’t be upset right now. He’s happy. His big brother came home tonight after all, so why does he feel like such a mess?
He doesn’t know what brought it on – but he does know the cure. Even if Sonic did just steal his soda, all Tails wants is a hug. And it’s his right as an annoying kid brother to get one.
Tails takes a step forward and presses his whole face into Sonic’s peach stomach fur. His arms lock around Sonic’s lower back, dodging the sharper quills with as practiced ease as he can, after so long apart. He squeezes just so, taking a deep breath and just trying to remind himself that his big brother is alive, and breathing, and just fine.
He expects a hug back any second now.
But after a minute, Tails realizes it’s not coming.
Sonic seems… frozen.
One hand hovers over Tails’s back, but never quite connects.
Tails’s stomach sinks. He probably deserves that. He’s being weird. And it’s late. And Sonic’s probably tired and not in a cuddly mood. And maybe he’s disappointed in him after all. Maybe Sonic was gone tonight because he was thinking about what a failure Tails was, seven months ago.
Tails pulls back, cheeks hot from being dumb and impulsive and overly affectionate. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I should’ve asked.”
Sonic doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares at him like he’s seen a ghost.
Tails meets his eyes with a confused expression. “Sonic?” he asks. “Is everything okay…?”
Nothing. Sonic still doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t even open his mouth. Sonic has clammed up completely, face taking on an almost stony expression. Tails backs up a step, bumping his tails into the cabinets behind him. He’s never seen Sonic look at him like that before. So… wary and distrusting. He drops his grip on the blanket around his shoulders, and the blanket pools to the ground at his feet. Tails doesn’t even try to pick it up, too fixated on his big brother’s weird reaction.
“Sonic?” he asks again.
And then… Sonic makes a sudden, abrupt gesture with his hands.
It’s sign language, Tails realizes. He knows that much immediately. But he’s so rusty, and Sonic was so fast, and it’s so late at night and Tails is so tired, that he doesn’t recognize the sign.
He stares at Sonic for a long time, just blinking at him, waiting for his big brother to repeat the sign. When Sonic doesn’t do it unprompted, Tails furrows his brows. “Um, Sonic?”
And just like that, Sonic changes.
His whole posture tenses. He’s not frozen – he’s ready for a fight.
And suddenly, his voice is back.
“Wow, you actually – …you really had me fooled there, Infinite,” Sonic says, a sharp smile on his face to match the harsh tone. “That’s a new low. I didn’t realize you could stretch time for that long. Though I guess I should have figured, huh? You played that one scene with Amy for ages." He chuckles darkly. "This was one hell of an illusion, I'll grant you that. Making me think I already beat you… That's actually pretty clever.”
Tails stares at his big brother. His face feels cold with shock. “Sonic, what?”
“Drop the scene. I already know it’s you,” Sonic says, voice cold and harsh like Tails has never heard before. His teeth are bared. Tails had almost forgotten that his teeth could be sharp.
Tails tries to back up further, but he’s already against the cabinets. Sonic isn’t even trying to approach – but Tails doesn’t want to be any closer than he has to be. Something is wrong – something is very, very wrong here, and he doesn’t want to get too close for fear of making everything worse. “Sonic, it’s me,” Tails says, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”
“Stop using my little brother’s image!” Sonic shouts.
Tails flinches.
Sonic doesn’t apologize, though. “Tails would have known what I said. You aren’t my little brother, so get away from me, Infinite. Before I really hurt you this time.” Tails’s stomach drops. So this was his fault, for not knowing what he signed. His ears fold back against his skull -- but Sonic's not done yet. “Drop the illusion -- it didn't do what you wanted, anyway." He looks up and around, as if searching for the real Infinite. Trying to spot him among the cabinets, out the window -- anywhere. "You didn’t even have him hurt me or anything. What, are you running out of material? Or did you waste it all making me think I won?” Sonic takes shallow breaths, hands balling into fists. “Just drop the act already, damn it! I know it’s not real.”
Tails watches Sonic’s chest heave. He knows what’s going on, now. But he still feels too stunned to do anything.
He hadn't known Infinite had made illusions for Sonic, while he was held on the Death Egg.
He doesn't know what to do now that he knows. He doesn't know how to fix his big brother .
The realization makes Tails’s eyes water again. Sonic just looks angry and scared – spines sticking out every which way. When Tails still doesn’t approach, Sonic must get an inkling that something is different than he thought. He backs up towards the fridge, tail bumping it first.
Tails can’t figure out if he’s realizing this is real, or if he’s just trying to defend himself, in case Infinite hurts him.
“Do it again,” Tails says, finally. Quietly. As calmly as he can manage with his heart going a mile a minute. “The – the sign, I mean. I can prove it’s me.”
Sonic meets his gaze, but his eyes are darting around like he’s feral. Searching for something. Proof, probably, that this is real. Or more proof it’s fake.
“Now that Eggman’s had enough time to look it up? Fat chance.”
“Something only I’d know the context for,” Tails says, blue eyes meeting green. Urgent. “Trust me. Please. I’m real.”
Tails reaches for Sonic’s hands and gives them the softest of squeezes.
The touch only makes Sonic jump a little. But he calms quickly – because it’s something Tails used to do when he was little and wanted Sonic to tell him a story. Back before Sonic could talk using his voice.
It’s enough to make Sonic waver. He suddenly scrubs at his eyes – when did they get so glassy? – and takes a sharp breath. Then he signs, so fast that Tails’s rusty memory of sign still takes some effort to unearth.
But he knows this sign – and he knows the context.
‘Why are you up so late?’ Sonic signs. Fidgets, to cover the way his hands shake.
And Tails replies back, in sign, and out loud. “Bad dream,” he says.
The relief in Sonic’s posture is palpable.
Sonic starts to sign a response, their usual send-off for that particular exchange – but his hands shake, and he drops the sign to instead rub at his face.
He still looks – among other things – stressed. Stressed beyond belief.
But finally, finally he starts to relax. His wild spines finally start to slide back into place, no longer so scared and angry that they’re puffing out. It makes Tails sad – really sad – to think he was upset and stressed out enough to show it that much.
But he’s relaxing now. So it’s going to be okay.
There’s still a lot of tension in the air though. Tails wants it gone. He can’t help but keep talking, staring at his feet and rubbing his toe into the tile floor.
“I was telling the truth just now,” Tails says. “About it being real, but also the bad dreams.” His cheeks are warm. But nothing makes Sonic feel more like himself than Tails being honest or vulnerable. It’s embarrassing, but maybe it’ll help. “I was a little afraid of having bad dreams tonight. That’s why I was up. I was about to go to sleep but I wanted to see you first, but you… weren’t on the couch… So… I was gonna go fix the heater or something until I felt sleepy.”
He’s rambling now, and his face feels hot, and he’s a thousand feet away from fine right now.
But when he looks up at Sonic’s face, his big brother doesn’t look so scary anymore. His quills are almost fully back into place. He’s not tense or defensive or stoic.
And he’s not trying to be funny or forcefully cheerful either, like he’s tried so hard to do the last few weeks.
Instead, Sonic just looks relieved.
In an instant, Sonic crushes him into a hug, and Tails feels himself being picked up off the floor.
Tails wraps his arms tight around his back, and for a second, everything feels like it’s going to be okay. Like they really can forget Infinite, and the six months from hell.
But even the best hug in the world can’t last forever.
Eventually, Sonic pulls away. And Tails looks up at him and notices how tired his eyes are.
Tails reaches for his hands again. The same signal as before. An invitation to tell stories or talk with his hands. Sonic lets him, but doesn’t squeeze back like usual. Instead, Sonic avoids eye-contact. Embarrassed, after being such an emotional display.
Tails is no quitter though.
“...Do you,” he starts, uncertainly. Trying to ask the same thing as what it meant to touch his hands and invite him to tell a story. But it’s a thousand times more awkward out loud. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sonic bites the inside of his cheek. He shrugs one shoulder.
“You can sign, if you want? If it’ll be easier?”
To his surprise, Sonic laughs a little. Not a nice laugh – but not exactly mean. Just kind of bitter.
Tails frowns. “You can. I’m serious. I’m rusty, but-”
“Sign doesn’t actually make it easier,” Sonic admits. “No matter what way we talk, it’s still talking.”
Tails droops his shoulders. “...Yeah. I know.”
It’s cold, Tails remembers. He stoops down and grabs the blanket from the floor. Then, uncertainly, he flies up just enough to reach around Sonic. It’s dumb – he knows that the blanket’s probably not going to do anything at all. But when Sonic suddenly founds it around his shoulders … he pulls it closer to himself anyway.
The kitchen goes quiet for a long moment. Sonic’s shoulders get just a little bit less tense.
Then, to Tails’s surprise, Sonic slowly scoots down until he’s seated on the kitchen floor. He lets out a big sigh, closing his eyes and resting his head against the cabinets.
Tails only hesitates a second before joining him on the floor.
A bigger and much better surprise is when Sonic opens up one arm, with the blanket still around it. Tails takes the hint and scoots towards him, into the invitation to cuddle that it is. Once he’s close enough, Sonic wraps the blanket around them both, and Tails rests his head against Sonic’s shoulder.
“So,” Sonic finally says, sounding surprisingly far away despite Tails’s ear next to his chest. “You said you were afraid of having bad dreams tonight, huh?”
Tails nods.
“That’s uh… quite the coincidence,” Sonic says. “...I was afraid of having them, too.”
It’s the biggest admission of weakness Tails has heard since Sonic was thirteen. He looks up at him with big eyes. But he tries not to make too big a deal out of it. Knows that there’s a very fragile line here. Any wrong move might make him shut down for good – and Tails can’t let that happen. “...Is that why you were out all night?”
Sonic nods. Blase. “Wanted to go for a run. Thought maybe if I took a nap somewhere fun I wouldn’t have to worry about bad dreams, yeah? But I didn’t feel tired no matter where I went. So I came back.”
“Are you, um, feeling tired now?” Tails asks, lightly reaching for Sonic’s hand.
Sonic manages a tiny smile and gives it a squeeze. “After drinking all that caffeine in your soda? I’ll be lucky if I sleep this week. You’re lucky I came back when I did, to take it off your hands,” he quips. For a second, Tails thinks he’s already blown it. That Sonic’s shutting down. But there’s still a serious edge to his tone. Enough that Tails knows it’s not a quip designed to make this conversation die.
Thank Chaos.
Tails gives Sonic’s hand another squeeze, and rests his head heavier on his big brother’s shoulder. He thinks for a minute, and tries to find a way to ease back into the topic at hand. “I was gonna fix the thermostat,” he eventually says. “So it wouldn’t be cold all night in case you came back.”
“I think we can make it work for one night,” Sonic says.
The kitchen goes silent for a long moment, with only the sound of their breathing and the refrigerator hum behind them. Tails doesn't know what to say, exactly… But he isn’t ready for this to be over yet. Not until he and Sonic really talk. So he pulls away just enough to look at his brother. Sonic looks just about as rough as Tails feels. But it's now or never. So he looks at Sonic with a more serious expression – and goes for it.
“I’m sorry it took us so long to get you,” he says. Hand still holding gently to Sonic’s own. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t… didn’t help you back then. In the fight where they took you.”
“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Sonic says. Like it's that easy. He sounds far away again – but at least he’s still talking. “It was too many at once. I get it.”
“But…”
Sonic shakes his head. He looks down, face serious, and eyes bright with determination. “We’re both still here,” he says. “We won. Besides… Eggman had other uses for me. He wasn’t gonna kill me. I just had to get back to you all to make sure you were okay.”
“Well… we were. Eeryone was… as good as we could be.”
“I meant singular you,” Sonic says.
Tails’s face warms.
Sonic doesn’t relent, though. “I was worried about you the whole time. Specially since you were the last one I saw before everyone attacked. Were - were you okay without me?”
Tails lowers his eyes. “No,” he admits.
Sonic’s eyes get a little wider, and he scans Tails for scars or injuries. “Did they hurt you?”
“Not that kind of hurt. I got away mostly okay. Knuckles helped me stay safe for a bit,” Tails says, rubbing his arm.
Sonic looks relieved. Then, “...And the other kind of hurt?”
“...I missed my big brother.”
It’s been what he’s been wanting to say for a month now. As bags piled up under Sonic’s eyes, and as they all worked together with the reconstruction work – it’s the only thing he’s felt. Even when Sonic got back, it was like he wasn’t totally back.
Like Sonic was trying to make it seem like everything was okay and nothing was wrong.
Even though they were both hurting.
“I’m sorry,” Sonic finally says. “...I missed you, too.”
“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Tails parrots. He gives Sonic’s hand another squeeze. “I was never going to be okay if I lost you. Especially not right after. It’s okay. It just means I don’t want to lose you again.”
Sonic manages a small smile. “I’ll see what we can do. …I don’t really want to go anywhere right now, either.”
“What does that mean for you, exactly?”
Because, after all, Sonic’s still been running off in the daytime to explore. To go visit old friends. To see parts of the world that he hasn’t gotten to see in the better part of a year.
“...It means that for right now… I’m okay having someone to check in with,” Sonic finally says. “I mean – let’s not get used to it. I want to feel okay again, and ‘okay’ for me means–”
“Running off for any adventure that’ll have you,” Tails fills in. “I know. And I’m okay with that, whenever you’re ready. But til then, my couch is yours.”
Sonic smiles. Genuine and soft.
Sentimental.
They sit in silence for a while longer. But eventually, Tails gets sleepy – and even Sonic’s caffeine rush starts to wear off. It’s almost four now; dawn will be coming soon. As they yawn, Sonic bundles Tails back up, and starts to usher him back to his bedroom.
But before they can part ways, Tails has one more thing to say. He turns on his nightlight so Sonic can see properly.
Then, he signs, ‘Why are you up so late?’
To remind Sonic that this is real. And that whatever bad things he might see in his bad dreams, they aren’t real. Just like Infinite’s visions weren’t real – but this, this moment, this house, this friendship, is.
Sonic’s face goes pink. Then he smiles, just a little, and ruffles Tails’s bangs. ‘Afraid of bad dreams,’ he signs back, expression soft.
But Tails gives Sonic an expectant look – and Sonic blinks. That’s right. The final part of their old message – the part they couldn’t get to, earlier.
His sign is a little clumsier this time. ‘...But bad dreams,’ he signs, ‘Aren’t so scary with you.’
Good. Tails looks up at him with satisfied, sleepy eyes. “...Is that still true?” he asks, voice small and overtired.
“You tell me, squirt,” Sonic says. “Are you still afraid to go to sleep?”
Tails shakes his head.
“Then I’m not either.”
With that, Sonic lightly cuffs his messy bangs, then grabs a spare blanket and heads for the couch.
//
Sonic’s still there, fast asleep and drooling onto the throw pillows when Tails wakes up nine hours later.
Someday, it’ll be worrisome for him to sleep over so often, rather than running free and exploring and camping under the stars.
Today isn’t someday, though. So Tails throws another blanket over Sonic before trying to fix the heater.