Chapter Text
Wind brushes softly through his fur, his tails hanging heavy and limp behind him, dragging in the dirt. He hasn’t washed or brushed them in days. He doesn’t see the point in it anymore.
There is no point anymore.
The sky hangs gray. He takes a step closer to the edge. The tips of his shoes hang over.
His eyes drift to the bottom.
Everything looks so small from up here. The blades of grass all meld together into a blurry blob of green, washed in grey from the clouds overhead.
He feels smaller.
He estimates it to be around 200 feet down—well over the lethal drop. When he hits the ground, it’ll be more like smacking down on concrete than anything else. He smiles weakly at the knowledge.
He wonders who will find him.
He hopes it’s not Sonic.
No—
Maybe it should be Sonic.
Maybe he’ll plan a funeral for him. Or would his body be too mangled—too twisted and smashed in to even look at? His head spins thinking about it—his skull cracked and caved in, limbs bent at unnatural angles, the blood splattered against the grass, soaking his fur—
He wonders how long it’d take to find his body. They must be used to the silence by now—weeks of him shrinking in on himself, speaking only when spoken to, disappearing into the quiet comfort of his bed. It was his new normal. Maybe they wouldn’t even bat an eye when he didn’t answer the door—they’d just stumble upon him by chance.
Would they get to him first, or the maggots?
He supposes it doesn’t really matter, in the end. It’s not like he’ll be there to witness it.
In his right hand, he clutches a note, crumpled. He had considered making it look like an accident, at first. Crashing his plane, or losing control whilst in the air and plummeting to his demise—or maybe slipping from one of the cliffs scattered around Green Hill, unable to catch himself and fly back up before he hit the ground.
None of it sounded right to him. He knew the others would blame themselves—Sonic would blame himself. He always did, whenever Tails got hurt, whether in battle, or from messing around. At least a note would bring everyone some semblance of peace—of knowing it wasn’t an accident that could have been prevented, had they been paying more attention.
No—this was purposeful. He wants this.
Doesn’t he?
He steadies himself, bringing the note up to his chest and holding it there. He blinks back the sting that pierces his eyes.
He takes a long inhale, but it comes in like a shaky gasp—like he’d just been drowning. He is, in a way. He exhales, his breath trembling, coming in short, shallow bursts.
His ears ring with static, a sharp, incessant high pitch assaulting his mind. His gaze trails back down.
The edge sways.
His feet teeter back and forth.
He wants this.
He wants this.
This is for the better.
A memory flashes behind his eyes just as he begins to lean. The world starts to tilt—and his mind reaches for something familiar.
“Hey! Who was it that stopped Eggman from blowing up Station Square? Huh? And who broke me out of prison, or saved me from the Deadly Six’s trap?”
“I… Then, I’m wildly inconsistent!”
“Dude, relax!” Sonic had told him, stepping closer and putting a hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve got brains like Eggman, speed like me, and can fly with your butt!”
There was a pause, then—he still wasn’t sure if he believed what Sonic was saying.
“…It’s okay if you still need help sometimes. That’s just part of growing up.”
“Hah, when did you get to be so insightful?”
“…I have my moments.”
He had asked him if he was a burden to him. He looked like he almost thought Tails was joking, at first—like it was so absurd to even think such a thing.
Everything is too loud.
Another flash—
Amy sits between him and Sonic. A horror movie plays in front of the group, flickering light tracing up the couch in the darkness. Tails sits with his knees curled up to his chest, trembling. He couldn’t have been older than ten, at the time.
She had protested allowing him to watch it—but he said he could handle it.
She spares a glance at him.
A flash on screen. A scream—both his, and the girl’s on the TV.
He flinches, his fur standing on end, tails puffing up. He wraps them around himself.
Amy places a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Tails. You’re alright,” She smiles. He peers up at her through his bangs. His eyes sting, blurring with unshed tears.
“Awe…” She shuffles closer, pulling him into a hug. “Let’s watch something else, okay?”
His lungs refuse to listen to him the next time he tries to take a breath. His head swims. The static is so. Loud.
More images trickle in with quick succession—Knuckles helping him to get stronger when he expressed how weak he felt. Sonic giving him a thumbs up when he hit a long shot at one of Eggman’s robots. Amy teaching him how to bake, and proceeding to throw flour at him when he accidentally spilled some on her. Laughing with the three of them until his stomach ached and his eyes teared up.
His vision blurs, obscuring the scene beneath him. And he remembers.
The first time Sonic called him his best friend. His brother.
The times Amy told Tails how important he was to the team.
The first time he met knuckles—and when they became friends, after the misunderstanding.
How Sonic Saved him.
How he saved Sonic.
…What is he doing?
His lungs claw for oxygen, and he forces a gasp, the air tearing into his lungs like a tidal wave, his breath returning in desperate, choking gulps. He stumbles backwards, throwing himself back from the edge, but his back slaps against something solid and soft before he can drop into a sitting position.
“Tails!—”
A voice cuts through the ringing.
A voice he knows.
“Tails…?”
It sounds familiar—like a cup of hot chocolate on the coldest night of winter, warming him from the inside out.
The static fades a little.
“Tails, buddy—please, are you with me?”
The voice is shaky, cracking a little half-way through the sentence.
“Miles…”
Sonic.
Tails blinks, tears stained in damp patches of fur down his cheeks.
When he tries to speak, no words come out, only a horrible, choked sounding noise. He leans forward, giving himself the room he needed to turn around and look up at his older brother.
His big brother, who stands, hands outstretched and trembling.
“I—” He starts, but can’t finish, his voice breaking into a half-sob, half-gasp.
Before he can try again, he’s pulled into a hug, Sonic’s arms wrapped around him like a lifeline.
He’s so, so warm. It cuts through the familiar cold that had dug its claws into Tails long ago, relentless and stubborn.
“Woah, hey, it’s okay… Breathe for me, okay bud? In…”
A beat—
“…Out.”
And he listens. The burn in his chest calms enough for him to take in a breath—shaky and shallow, but a breath all the same.
His chest rises and falls like waves in a storm, calming with each passing second, the occasional hiccup and shudder passing through. Sonic’s chest grows damp with tears, though he pays no attention to it. A hand traces slow patterns into his back—heavy and radiating warmth.
A subtle earthy scent with a twinge of soap invades Tails’ senses as he nestles his head closer, his hands clutching shakily at Sonic’s fur and quills with a death grip.
They don’t say anything—the silence is enough. It speaks more than Tails could, in the moment.
When he blinks his teary eyes open, all he sees is a blurry blob of blue and beige. His breath trembles, lips quivering.
“I-I’m So—sor..rry…” Tails chokes out, voice strangled and overwhelmed with emotion.
“Shh,” Sonic hushes him, kneeling in front of him with his hands on his shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for. You hear me?” He asks, his voice gentle.
Warmth spreads across his chest. Sonic’s voice softens the ringing.
Tails only stares, jaw aching, chest heaving. A sob tears out of him, and his knees buckle beneath him, giving out.
He doesn’t get a chance to fall before he’s in Sonic’s arms again.
He sniffles, burying his head back into the crook of Sonic’s neck, his arms wrapping around him.
It’s silent, aside from ragged breaths and sobs that fill the air around them.
The thought of having to talk about this when they get home fills him with dread, twisting and swirling deep in his gut.
He thinks maybe he’s okay with this, though.
Maybe it’s time for him to be honest.