#tcils

Shadow glanced over at this one for a short moment, before his saddened expression turned stern and looked ahead again. Those kind words should have been enough to heal his still hurting heart, but there was always that persisting pain. It almost burned a hole in his chest, if it had been possible to do so.

"I can't control myself, when I get like this... It's dangerous to be around me." He warned, and even though his power was still relatively quiet, it was always waiting to provoke and ignite inside.

"Looks like it's just you and me this afternoon, Bud!"

Maddie is currently out with Sonic and Knuckles, re-planting a few trees after a friendly spar was taken a bit too far. Tom did offer his help, but was swiftly reminded he wouldn't be so useful with his arm still in a sling.

Not that he minded, because it gave him a chance to enjoy his time with his favorite, little fox. Thus, he grinned, and playfully waggled his brows.

    the wachowski tribe might have offered the guest room,    but knuckles prefers to sleep outside.    (he misses the stars-    the twinkling dots that are scattered across the expanse of velvet blue.    his life transformed from comfort in a hut to comfort in the battlefield.    these dots guided them to victory...    to death...    to life.)    he settles under the backyard tree,    stolen blanket in hand-    not quite stolen.    he stared at sonic while reaching for one of the many blankets he has on hand,    and left as slowly as he crept in-   and he simply gazes at the stars.    perhaps,    if he squints,    he would see his people overhead,    watching over him.

that moment of peace does not last for long-    he hears a whirling noise from the west...    but it’s just the fox.    his face embodies exhaustion,    knuckles notes.    subtly,    but surely,    he raises the blanket for his fellow housemate.    (family.)    he will not let the fox run cold.

and when he curls up into him,    knuckles doesn’t mind.    instead,    knuckles gently nudges his temple with his cheek,    and wraps an arm around him.

     hell may have no fury like a bride scorned,  but sonic’s pretty sure his boredom could give her a run for her money.  grounded.  for starting a fight, and instigating another fight, and worst of all: teaching the youngest a swear word.  which was an accident!  and, to be fair, the folks did take that into account—  he’s only grounded for two days instead of the whole weekend.  yawn!  ( which he does. )  blue blurs around the room, going through his stuff a second, third time—  there’s nothing here he hasn’t already done / read / played with more times than he can count, but sonic wachowski is nothing if not adaptable!  thus, he picks up a wayward flash comic, and kicks back to read it for the thousandth  no, wait, this is return; make that millionth  time.

     the telltale whirr of a police siren, perks his ear at first, but is quickly dismissed;  tom’s already home, and he knows wade turns it on for just about anything.  ( there’s voices downstairs, but nothing he can make out—  probably just some townsfolk needing their gutter cleared again.  not that he can go down and check, anyway. )  attention returns to his comic, and stays on his comic—  ...for a good while, actually.  huh, woulda thought tails’d be home by now.

          not to worry; because right then, as if on cue, he picks up the telltale creak of somebody ascending the attic stairs.  finally!  “ where ya been?  man, i thought i was gonna die of b— ”

his eyes makes contact with the fox, and for the first time in his life, sonic feels everything just STOP.

               tails—  oh dear god, tails.

     he moves before he can process doing so; reclined in bed one second, at his brother’s side not even a full one later.  tails—  tails looks horrible.  there’s a bandage, tight around his shoulder; clearly maddie’s work, and the only reason he isn’t bleeding out.  ( and even then just barely. )  sonic reaches out to touch—  tails hisses at the contact  —and yanks his hand back like it’s been burned.  ( blood seeps through the bindings, stains the yellow of tails’ fur.  stains the white of his glove. )

     it takes everything in him to shove down the rising bile.

“ h—    wh-  what?— ”  a thousand questions, but he cant will his voice to ask even one of them, caught in his throat as the air feels punched from his lungs;  speechless.

     it was—  it was a trip into town—

          tails had just gone for a walk ——

“ tails— ”  moving to support his weight.  careful to avoid the wound.  the touch is feather-light, like tails is made of glass.  like he’ll shatter at the very contact.  words are still a stranger, but sonic still tries,      “ w— ”  past the nausea in his stomach, the dizziness in his head,           “ wh— ”  the sudden onset weakness he feels, but ( bullet? stab?  he doesn’t know, he doesn't fucking know ) wounds aren’t contagious,                “ wh— ”  where did you go?  why didn’t you call to tell me you were in danger?  why didn’t anyone tell me you were in danger?  why am i only finding out my brother got hurt because he’s limping into my room?  what happened?  what fucking happened!?

     “ who did this?! ”

...and suddenly, clarity.  everything else falls away under the weight of the only inquiry that actually matters.  his breathing has evened out, but it hasn’t slowed.  a grip on his thigh so tight that, if you could see his knuckles, they’d be white.  ( he lets go of tails as he feels the electricity building.  he doesn’t need to look to know there's sparks between his fingers. )

     the fire in his eyes is electric blue.  sonic wills what’s left of his self-control to restrain his voice into an artificial calm that fools absolutely no one.

               “ tails.  who.  did this. ”

    he receives the jar with two gloved hands,    and a wide-eyed curiosity on his face.    if there’s anything he knows about earth,    it’s that grapes come in many different shapes and sizes.    you can eat them,    you can drink them,    and you can do both at the same time...