#doesn't hurt to ask
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Just thinking about s4 but when Alpha!Eddie grabs Steve to shove the bottle against his neck, he doesn't realize Steve is an omega and accidentally scruffs him. And Steve is just boneless, kinda goes down. And Eddie isn't expecting deadweight and almost falls ontop of Steve but realizes what's happening (let's just say he's fought off a few bullies who scruffed members of his pack). He immediately drops the bottle and holds onto Steve, who tries to scent Eddie. Just shoves his face into Eddie's neck and nuzzles it, lets out a purr unintentionally.
#Obviously from then on it would be different because Eddie's inner alpha would be like I GOTTA PROTECT THIS SELFSACRIFICING IDIOT#And Steve is just like wow Eddie can manhandle him?? He's so strong!! Eddie stole a van??? He's such a provider!!#Steve still has the 6 nuggets convo with Nancy and Eddie overhears still and is like trying to calculate how many names he can come up with#Eddie throwing his vest so Steve will be covered in his scent cause Nancy is also an alpha and no thank you look at ME Steve#Steve has those cartoon hearts floating around his head and is batting his eyes watching Eddie mess around with Dustin#Oh I could go on#When Steve gets scruffed and starts purring Robin is just standing there like 🧍‍♀️#Robin turns every once in awhile while the two are flirting and looks at an imaginary camera with a ARE YOU SEEING THIS look#Anyways when Vecna gets defeated and torn to smithereens and the upside down starts to close permanently#And Eddie recovers in the hospital (still got hurt) Steve is very territorial and sits by his side the entire time#Wayne walks in and pulls a Robin just goes 🧍‍♀️ and walks back out for a moment#Wayne is like who is the omega (as if he doesn't know he just wants to see Eddie's response and make him sweat)#And Steve is all indignant like I am your future son in law the future mother of your grandkids#And Eddie is blushing and twirling his hair and biting his lip he's 3 seconds away from asking to bite his mating gland#Oh I could still go on but...I shant...(I will later)#Steddie#Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson#omega!steve harrington#alpha!eddie munson#eddie munson/steve harrington#eddie munson x steve harrington#Omegaverse#Jade is talking
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My favorite subtle detail in the Amy 30th anniversary comic is when she instructs Sonic to free the animals, he bouncing off the capsules one after the other, but as shown with Tails, he takes his time specifically making sure he's okay
Sonic has priorities, and that's his lil bro


#friendly reminder that sonic doesn't care what happens as long as his lil bro is safe#yeah the critters are probably alright but he NEEDS to check on his lil bro#maybe he's hurt. or scared. or mybe he just wants to look at him for a lil bit longer before jumping back#you know. just to make sure#that's his lil bro aaaaaaugh#miles tails prower#sonic the hedgehog#unbreakable bond#sonic and tails#they are cosmic truth#they’re brothers your honor#ask
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That sick fic ask just made me wonder how Tails reacted to seeing Sonic properly sick for the first time.
A/N: This may have gotten away from me a bit, but once the idea took hold I just kinda went with it ^^;; This was the fic I was hoping to have done earlier this week, but I'm happy to have it done now! Not quite a birthday or Valentine's Day fic, but has very wintery vibes, which still seems fitting for this time of year <3 Going to post this on AO3 in "Little Gestures" in just a bit, but wanted to have it connected to the ask that inspired it! Thank you, childofthemoon86! And by extension, the sick anon who initially requested the sick!Tails fic. This goes out to both of you!
no medicine like the hope of tomorrow
Sonic always woke up first.
On good days, the smell of hot porridge cooking over a fire would rouse Tails with its promise of a full belly. On better days, it was buttery pancakes frying alongside a sneaky slice of ham or bacon that beckoned him to open his eyes, twin tails already wagging with delight. On okay days, there were no smells that coaxed him into wakefulness, but a light nudge to his shoulder and two whistled notes tickling his ear. C'mon, Tails.
There were no bad days ever since meeting Sonic. Not even days when there wasn't any breakfast could be considered bad when Sonic was there.
But the point was, no matter what kind of day it was, Sonic was always ready and waiting to greet him first thing. Like the sunrise.
So when it was the ache of an empty belly that roused Tails one morning, there was the tiniest flicker of fear that it had all been a dream. That there'd never been good days or better days or even just okay days. Just another tally mark scratched into stone in a cave all alone.
But the fear didn't linger. It couldn't. Not when Sonic's scent enveloped him with warmth, wrapped around him even as he wiggled under his blanket. Traces of it also drifted through their campsite and, while it might not have been as strong as porridge or pancakes, it was more than enough to reassure him that their time together hadn't been imaginary. Tails was good at thinking up lots of things that didn't exist, but even he didn't think he could ever imagine someone as good as Sonic.
With a squeaky yawn, Tails stretched out along the length of his blanket. He scrubbed at his face with his paws, trying to wipe away the crustiness of sleep, then blinked at the brightness of daylight spilling into the mouth of the shallow cavern they'd camped out in. He squinted immediately. The sun was higher in the sky than usual.
Brow furrowing, Tails sat up, his blanket and Sonic's coat pooling in his lap. He glanced down at the latter. Lately Sonic had been giving it to him to sleep with during the night while it was so cold. Tails shivered, bundling his tails around himself as he slipped his arms through the coat backwards and looked around the campsite.Â
Usually Sonic had a fire going to get them warmed up, even if there wasn't any breakfast to cook. The stones he'd laid in a circle around the firewood Sonic collected were still there, along with the charred wood, frosted over with sparkling dew that had frozen during the night. The grass just outside the cavern had a layer of frost coating it as well, only just starting to melt away during the sun's journey through the sky.Â
Tails's gaze finally landed on the lump that was Sonic's blanket, his tails giving a jerky thump against his legs at the sight of him. A few blue quills poked out of the bunched up fabric and Tails finally picked up on the snuffly breathing that clouded the air near his nose. Tails's head tilted to one side, mouth parted in a surprised "o."
Sonic was still asleep!
Tails beat him to waking up!
He never beat Sonic at anything before!
Giggling to himself, Tails kept the coat tucked around him as he hopped up on his feet. The cold of the cavern floor seeped through his socks so he quickly padded over to Sonic, peering over his shoulder while the hedgehog slept huddled up on his side. Half his face was covered by the blanket, his fingers curled in it tightly like someone would rip it away if he let up his grip even a little.
Tails wiggled with anticipation. He crouched down and nudged Sonic's shoulder with his paw playfully. "Fwoo-woo!"Â
Whistling was still hard for him, especially when it was so cold. But Tails smiled brightly as he made as close a sound to a whistle as he could. It usually got a laugh out of Sonic when he tried, or at the very least a head pat.
But Sonic didn't budge.
Undeterred, Tails pushed at him harder. "Fwoooo! Fwoo!"
A harsh cough burst from Sonic's chest and sent Tails tumbling backwards onto his rear. He sat back up, coat fallen away and paws pressed against the cold ground between his legs to brace himself while he stared at Sonic. Each expulsion of air rattled his ribs, like they were being knocked together from the force of it.
"Fwoo?" Tails's ears fell as Sonic kept coughing, his body heaving with each fruitless attempt to catch his breath.
When the coughing stopped, his breathing was ragged like he'd just outrun one hundred of Robotnik's fastest badniks. Tails pushed himself up on his knees and leaned over Sonic again. His expression was pinched now and he could see his mouth, the lines around his muzzle tight as if he was gritting his teeth. He sniffled, nose sounding extra stuffed up, and it made him swallow thickly when his breathing eventually evened out. One eye finally cracked open, a sliver of green peeking through to observe who was staring at him.
Tails smiled upon seeing that his friend was awake, his tails flicking up and down happily. But then Sonic coughed again, this time keeping his mouth clamped shut through the painful chest spasms. He curled up tightly, nearly turning into a ball as his knees tucked in close to his tummy.Â
"Drink?" Tails signed, bringing his hand to his own muzzle like a cup, but Sonic didn't see it when his eyes squeezed shut through another bout of coughing.
Deciding water would definitely help a dry throat anyway, Tails scampered over to their backpack and rifled through it for Sonic's water bottle. He lifted it up triumphantly, only to gasp when it was much lighter than he expected. With a puzzled look, Tails shook the bottle. Nothing sloshed around inside. It was empty.
Sonic usually filled up the bottle before he went to sleep, just in case either of them got thirsty in the middle of the night. He must've forgotten. Tucking the water bottle in the crook of his arm, Tails flew back over to his blanket and plopped down atop it so he could pull on his shoes. He'd go get the water himself. He remembered passing a little brook when they were scouting out a good camp spot. It wasn't far at all.
And Sonic really sounded like he could use a drink.
Tails cut through the brush, his ears swiveling back and forth as he listened for the gentle trickle of water against stray pebbles and rocks. His tails gave a happy twirl as he rounded a thick tree trunk and spotted the small water source. Just the sight of the cool, fresh water flowing was enough to remind him he was pretty thirsty himself. Kneeling down, Tails lapped up the water straight from the current. Usually Sonic collected water and boiled it in a pot before drinking it, but Tails used to drink from rivers and ponds all the time. Just not the ocean, that was too salty and gross.
He drank until his tummy was full enough with water that it didn't feel so empty. That was the trick to being hungry sometimes. Just fill up all the space inside with water.Â
Tails could feel it slosh around a bit as he sat back and wiped the damp fur of his muzzle with his arm. Then he resumed his mission. He unscrewed the cap for the water bottle and filled it up right to the top, so Sonic would have plenty to drink in case his tummy was empty, too.
When he got back to the cavern, Sonic still hadn't moved. Tails scampered over to him and dropped down to sit cross-legged right in front of his face. Sonic forced his eyes open, but he couldn't do much more than squint at him with a silent question. Tails held out the water bottle to him.
For a moment, he just stared at it uncomprehendingly, but the gears eventually began to turn and Sonic put himself into motion. He propped himself up with his arms, but his elbows wobbled like they were about to give out any second. And they did exactly that when Sonic tried to reach for the bottle. He landed hard on his shoulder with a wince and another harsh coughing fit as Tails scooched forward to try and help him sit up.
Sonic batted him away, successfully sitting up on his second try. He fumbled with the cap to the water bottle, swaying a bit like a palm tree in the breeze. It almost made Tails a little woozy watching him. When he got the cap off, Sonic guzzled the water greedily, his throat bobbing rapidly as he drank and drank even more than Tails did. He stopped only to gasp for air, panting in between sharp, pointed sniffs to clear his nose.
It didn't sound like it worked.
Tails took the water bottle back before it spilled, frowning when it felt like it was already less than half-full. They'd have to get some more. Now that Sonic was up though, maybe they could get some breakfast, too.
Looking up at him expectantly, Tails's ears and tails wilted when Sonic just laid back again, this time resting on his back with his face turned up. Now that he could get a better look at it, Tails could see that the peach fur of his muzzle was a little flushed. His eyes closed again and his hand pressed over his chest, rubbing a little like he was trying to soothe something that hurt. Tails's frown deepened. Was Sonic hurt?
He tapped Sonic's shoulder and his head lolled to the side to face him. Tails extended his index fingers of both hands and brought them together. "Hurt?" he asked in sign.
The dull glaze in his eyes cleared a bit. No, Sonic shook his head, coughed once into his fist, then held up one finger. In a minute, he seemed to be saying as he laid back with a raspy sigh.
Tails counted all the way to sixty twice, just to be sure, but Sonic didn't get up after a minute. He decided to refill the water bottle while he waited, but even though that also took longer than a minute, Sonic still hadn't moved by the time he returned to camp. In fact, Tails was pretty sure Sonic had fallen back asleep.
Tails's tummy complained with a loud, impatient growl. He was hungry.
Rifling through the backpack, he found the small cook pot and four paper packets of porridge mix. It fascinated Tails to watch as the dry, powdery ingredients would expand and turn into a completely different consistency just from adding water and heat. Sometimes they added fruits if they could find any, but in the middle of a frosty winter, they hadn't come across much. They had to buy most of their food in the towns and villages they passed through.
There were also two hot dogs still wrapped up in plastic, but no buns and no chili cans. And one box of macaroni and cheese was left, but other than that they were out of food. No ready-made snacks Tails could chew on while he waited for Sonic to get up.
Well, who said he had to wait? Tails could read. He could figure out how to make the food himself. He'd watched Sonic do it before.
Tails started with the oatmeal packets since they were the breakfast food. Sonic always made two at the same time, so Tails also grabbed two packets along with the pot and the bottled water. Little instructions were printed on the paper wrapping.
Empty packet in pot.
Bring ½ cup of water to a boil.
Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes.
The instructions were probably for one packet each, so if he was cooking two, then he'd need to double everything. 1 cup of water and 10 minutes. That sounded right.Â
Tails sighed as he shot the water bottle an unimpressed look. He was gonna have to fill it up again.
But his sloshy, grumbly tummy told him to just get it over with. Besides, wouldn't Sonic be so impressed with so proud of him when he managed to cook them breakfast all by himself?
Tails tore open the packets with his teeth and poured the powdery oats into the pot. Then he dumped the entire contents of the whole water bottle over them. There! One cup of water.
He peered into the pot. It was mostly water, with tiny oat flecks that made it look cloudy as they floated to the surface. That didn't look right. Tails frowned and reread the packet. Maybe it just needed to be heated up still. Maybe that would fix it.Â
Sonic always started the campfire by rubbing two rocks against the wood really fast. Tongue poking out the side of his mouth, Tails tried imitating him. But he couldn't go fast enough. It was hard to keep the rocks from slipping out of his grasp whenever he sped up and no little sparks shot up into the wood.
Tails kept trying.Â
But it didn't work.
And he was hungry…
He glanced at the pot with too much water and oat clumps. It looked anything but appetizing. Embarrassment and shame churned within his empty belly as he lifted up the pot and watched the flecks of oats slosh about in the water. His eyes wandered back over to where Sonic was still sleeping, his breathing heavy and laced with the occasional grunt, brow pinched with discomfort even when he wasn't awake to feel it.Â
Tails couldn't feed him this, but he couldn't let it go to waste either.
He'd learned before he could even remember that food was food.
Tails shivered as he drank the cold, watery porridge mixture straight from the pot. His eyes squeezed shut with determination as he gulped it down until there was nothing left. Tails coughed, his fur bristled as each of his muscles tensed up, but at least his tummy felt fuller.
There were two more porridge packets in the backpack, but he didn't want to try again without a fire. He'd save them for when Sonic woke up for real, so he could make them the right way.Â
Tails slowly trudged back to the brook to refill the water bottle a third time, his tummy too sloshy to fly around with. He placed the bottle close to Sonic, in case he started coughing again, then returned to his own bed to lay down. He pulled Sonic's coat over himself again, nestling in it and his blanket as the cold air and the cold porridge in his tummy conspired to make him feel even colder.
It was easier to warm up when Sonic kept them moving all the time, but sitting still in the mouth of the cool cavern as clouds began to roll in, Tails was reminded of the wispy memories of the previous winter, huddled up in his old cave back when there weren't quite so many scratch marks on the walls.
—
Freshly fallen snow covered the ground by the time Tails realized that Sonic was worse off than he'd first thought. Harsh, sticky coughing echoed off the icy walls around them, no matter how much water he drank. Eyebrows furrowed and both tails flicking about anxiously, Tails sat right next to where he'd been lying all day and kept watch.Â
Panting heavily, Sonic's breath puffed out like a train's smokestacks, clouding the air in front of his flushed muzzle as he trembled, even though he was beneath two blankets. Tails had decided to share his with him when Sonic's chills got worse, despite the heat radiating from his body. It felt like he'd been sitting too close to the campfire for too long.Â
Sonic always felt relatively warm whenever Tails pressed against him, whether it be because Sonic had to carry him out of danger or when it was so cold at night they'd huddle up together to share what warmth they had. But this heat wasn't like that at all. It was wrong.
Tails was pretty sure he'd figured out what was happening to Sonic, too. It was something that Tails himself had experienced more than a couple times so far in his little life. Sonic was coughing because his throat was probably all gummy; full of thick, icky mucous that slowly slipped down into his chest and made it hard to breathe. His stuffy nose probably clogged up his whole head, too, including his ears and the space behind his eyes. His limbs couldn't hold him up because it probably felt like all his muscles had shriveled up inside, everything achy and sore even if he hadn't been smacked around by a badnik or a bully at all. And he was shivering so bad because his body was too hot and too cold at the same time and it didn't know what to do.
Whenever Tails felt like that, he'd always felt so weak, he'd been afraid that if he went to sleep, he'd never wake up again.
Because that happened sometimes. He remembered a baby flicky fell out of its nest in the jungle one day. No one came for it, no matter how much it chirped, so Tails had very carefully scooped them up and brought them to his cave, just so it had somewhere safe to stay until they could fly away like the bigger flickies. Tails didn't have much, but he was willing to share what he did with the baby flicky. He thought they could be friends.
But the little birdy shivered all night and they didn't eat anything Tails tried to give them, even though he wrapped his tails around them to keep them warm and mashed up berries so they were small enough to fit in their tiny beak.
The next morning, the baby flicky didn't wake up.
It never woke up again.
Tails didn't understand why until he started traveling with Sonic. They'd been breaking the little animals out of badniks, Sonic bouncing from one to another in the blink of an eye. As Tails tried to keep up, he noticed one of the flickies couldn't lift themselves out of the wreckage. They were too weak, stuck for too long in their metal prison until they could barely keep their eyes open. Tails cupped them gently in his paws and carried them to Sonic, his new safe place, because surely Sonic would know what to do.
But when the flicky's eyes closed and its last breath left its body, Sonic only had one thing to say to him. "Gone," Sonic signed, fingers pulling at the air as he moved his hand away from his body.Â
Tails frowned as he looked at the creature now cradled in Sonic's hands. He shook his head and pointed at it, trying to convey, What do you mean? It's right here.
Sonic's expression was unreadable as he gazed at the flicky. Then, more slowly and gently than Tails had ever seen Sonic do anything, he folded the bird's wings against their body and crouched down in the shade of a nearby tree. He dug out a small hole near the roots, then laid the flicky in it. Sonic watched and waited for a few minutes, two fingers pressed over the bird's pale blue breast. Finally, with a sharp exhale through his nose, Sonic covered the flicky with the dirt he'd just disturbed until each feather and the tip of their beak was buried.
He turned his back to it, then lowered to sit on his rump and stared out with that unreadable look still etched into his face. Out at the faded hills ahead of them, where the grass was beginning to yellow the closer inland they traveled and the colder it got. He patted the ground beside him, so Tails shuffled over to sit.
In the dirt, Sonic wrote with his finger. Sometimes things don't wake up again. A big part of them is gone and it can't come back.
Like the baby flicky from before and the older flicky now. Tails drew a flicky in the dirt and pointed at it. He didn't have to wonder if Sonic knew what he was asking.
Not just flickies. He wrote. Everything.
Tails touched his own chest, then pointed at Sonic.
Sonic just swiped his finger in a straight line underneath it. Everything.
Tails could believe that when he thought about how weak the two flickies had been, barely able to lift their own heads or breathe. He could believe it when he remembered how weak he'd felt every time he'd been sick on his own or every time the bullies beat him up so bad that he couldn't move, scared that he'd have no way to get food or water for days.
But Tails couldn't believe someone like Sonic could ever feel that weak.
At least, not until that winter day, when each breath physically pained him and he couldn't even open his eyes. He mumbled a little incoherently, nothing that sounded like words, just croaky grunts and whimpers that continued even in his sleep. But as bad as they made him feel, Tails preferred the coughing fits and the grunts and whines to the stillness and the quiet when it all stopped.
It was too still and too quiet and Sonic wasn't either of those things, even without saying a word.
Tails broke up their last two uncooked hot dogs into bite-sized pieces. Even though they were cold, they were better than nothing and Sonic needed to eat. In Tails's experience, food was always the best way to stop from feeling so shaky and weak. So he pushed the pieces against Sonic's mouth until he chewed, his heart shivering as he thought about pushing mushy berries into a flicky's tiny beak.
But Sonic swallowed each bite, grimacing a bit at the cold, rubbery texture. Tails couldn't help nibbling on a few either. He preferred them warm, in a soft bun and smothered with sauce that made his tummy growl just at the memory of it, but Tails had eaten worse. The not-quite-porridge from earlier in the day was definitely lower on his list of things he'd rather eat.
 When the hot dog pieces were gone, Sonic's stomach still churned with hunger. He tossed and turned weakly, unable to get comfortable when everything hurt and hunger ate away at his insides and his skin burned like he was on fire. Tails pressed a handful of snow against Sonic's brow, but it melted fast and dripped down into his quills, frosting over on the tips. It only made his shivering worse.
Sonic needed to eat. He needed something more than two cold hot dogs, porridge powder, and a box of hard noodles.
There was a town a few miles away from where they were staying. They'd stopped in it a couple times so far while exploring the area surrounding the Chemical Plant Zone. It had an arcade, a library, and a diner that Sonic took them to when he had gold rings and paper notes to spare. He kept them in the wallet tucked away in one of the pockets of his backpack, but sometimes when Tails stole a peek inside and there wouldn't be anything there. They foraged for food on those days, before the winter frost killed most of what grew in the area, or Sonic would disappear for a couple of hours, only to come back with a wallet nearly full to bursting and a grin to match.
Tails fished the wallet out of the backpack. No gold rings or paper notes were hidden within its folds. He was on his own.
Luckily, Tails hadn't forgotten how to get food on his own. It was risky and he'd avoid it if he could, but this was for Sonic. Sonic did so much for him and shared every bit of food he scrounged up with him, even when he didn't have to.
The very least Tails could do was try.
Sonic needed to eat.
Tails tapped Sonic on the tip of his nose until tired and bleary eyes opened, too tired to even be very mad, though there was the barest glint of annoyance that glimmered dully behind the film of sick. Normally it was enough to get Tails to back off, ears flat and tails tucked around his legs apologetically, but in this moment, seeing that small sign of life was a relief. Tails grabbed onto Sonic's wrist and lifted it up until the red watch strapped to it was in the hedgehog's line of sight. Tongue poking out, Tails guessed at how long it would take him to get to town and back without Sonic's speed. To be on the safe side, he tapped the glass over the hour hand twice.
Sonic's eyes just closed on another, close-mouthed cough. Tails shook his limp wrist to get his attention again, this time pointing to the watch before holding up two fingers. Maybe Sonic couldn't see the watch hands when his eyes were so squinty. His fingers might be easier for him to read. I'll be back in two hours, okay?
Spasms wracked Sonic's chest as he tried to suppress the urge to cough. He tugged his wrist out of Tails's hold and rolled onto his side away from him just in time for his body to heave under the exhaustive force of his wet coughing. Tails rubbed his own chest in quiet sympathy, slowly backing away as the coughing tapered off on a wispy wheeze.
Two hours. He'd be back with food in two hours.
The sky was already darkening when he set out for town. Tails's shoes sank down into the freshly fallen snow as he scampered out of the cave. His trail of little fox footprints was a short-lived one, however, when he quickly decided it would be faster to fly and the falling snow began to slowly fill in the divots he'd left behind.
—
The street lamps spread their yellow light over the snowy sidewalk, their warmth an illusion while fat snowflakes still floated through the air. Tails kept to the outside of their glowing halos, slinking through the shadows like he was back in the village of Emerald Hill Zone. All hope of finding and bringing back food relied on his ability to stay out of sight. His ears remained perked, listening hard to his surroundings; everything muffled by the quiet winter snow.
Very few people ventured out into the streets of the small town after dark. The diner one of the only buildings with the lights still on, aside from the gambling hall and bar across the road. Bars sometimes served food, but Tails would save that in his back pocket in case he came up empty-handed at the diner.
The red, neon glow from the diner's sign reflected off the white snow on the sidewalk, though half of the letters were blacked out. Instead of "RESTAURANT" the illuminated letters spelled out an ominous "RETURN." Tails boldly pressed forward, ducking along the side of the diner.Â
He could smell the cooking grease through the vents as he crept around to the back of the building. Mouth watering, Tails swallowed and puffed up his cheeks with determination. He wasn't going to make a mistake just because he was distracted by being hungry. This was for Sonic.
Light from the kitchen window illuminated a small square against the snow-covered ground, the shadowy shape of a dumpster pressed against the paint-peeled wall just beyond it and a door. Tails's ears twitched, his breath held tight in his chest as the sounds of kitchen pots and pans clattered just on the other side of the window. He inched his way towards the dumpster. He didn't see a lock on it, which meant the owners probably didn't expect that people would go rifling through it for scraps. Hopefully that meant they wouldn't be waiting for him with sharpened knives and pots of boiling oil to chase him away into the night.
The back door flew open with a bang as it struck the worn siding wall. Tails skittered back around the corner with a quick whirl of his tails, only daring to peek when he heard something clanging against the dumpster. A gangly aardvark in a grease-stained apron grunted as he hefted a bag of trash over the edge of it. He let the lid fall shut with another clang that echoed through the snowy alley, then leaned against the wall with a sigh and a shiver. He fiddled with something in his apron pocket, removing a carton of cigarettes. He also pulled out a small, silver lighter.
Tails huffed, holding up his hands to his mouth to warm them while he waited and watched the aardvark shake out a single cigarette. With a snap of his lighter, he lit the end of the cigarette and took a long drag from it. As the acrid smoke wafted into the air, Tails's nose scrunched up and he stuck his tongue out. It was almost as bad as the chemical plant's smell.Â
But the tiny flame that flicked to life with a simple click compelled him to linger, drawn to it like a moth, but one that was too clever to let itself be burned.
New mission objective: get food for Sonic and get the lighter so he could make a fire at their campsite.Â
Tongue poking out the side of his mouth, Tails scraped some snow from the ground and packed it up into a ball. He tested the weight in his palm, satisfied with the density as he held it up to his face and closed one eye. Peering around the corner of the building, Tails set the aardvark in his line of sight.
As he took another puff from his cigarette, the fingers of his other hand repeatedly opened and closed the top of the lighter with a repetitive click-click. Tails crouched and twirled his tails to warm them up. Ready, aim…
The snowball smacked against the hand holding the lighter, knocking it from the aardvark's grasp and into the snow. "What the—?"
The aardvark whirled in the direction where the snowball had come from, tromping angrily through the snow to catch the perpetrator, but Tails had already flown up onto the roof. He quickly dropped down while the aardvark's back was to him, scooping up the lighter from where it fell, then flew back up to hide atop the diner. Crouched low on his belly to remain unseen, Tails kept his mouth clamped shut to keep from breathing too hard. His sharp eyes followed the aardvark as he paced the ground below, scratching his head when there was no sign of anyone save for a few footprints.
"Damn kids…" the aardvark muttered, took one more puff, then put out his cigarette against the wall.
He shuffled back to retrieve his lighter, huffing and grunting as he dug through the snow in search of it. But his hands were bare and chilled as they felt around for wherever it might've fallen, dexterity dwindling the longer he looked for it. With a resigned groan, he abandoned his search and headed back into the diner. The kitchen door closed with a heavy thud behind him.
Tails counted for a full minute before he gently eased himself back down. His hands trembled as he clutched the lighter between them, heart beating in triple speed while he watched the door warily. When it didn't reopen, he tucked the lighter into his shoe to free up his hands, then scrambled to climb up the side of the dumpster.
The lid was heavy, but with the right leverage Tails was able to force it open. He sucked in a deep breath through his mouth and held it as the odor of old food wafted up into the cold air. Dumpsters smelled worse when it was hot out, but Tails still didn't want to take any chances of getting a big whiff of something particularly rank as he leaned in.
He ribbed open the garbage bag on top, whatever food inside it likely the freshest he'd be able to fish out. There were a lot of wet and slimy things to sift through. Sauces and juices and other questionable liquids seeped into most of the scraps that were tossed into the bag, a soup of mostly unsalvageable food waste. The edge of the dumpster dug into his belly as he leaned in, his tails keeping him semi-aloft as he pushed around mushy chunks of half-eaten meatloaf, bits of burger, and pieces of pancakes soaked through with sticky syrup.
Tails was on the search for something more solid and not so mushy, and found it in some very lucky fries sheltered by a wilted cabbage leaf. They were a little extra crispy and burnt on the ends, but still soft enough to eat. He collected as many as he could, cradling them in his palm like they were as precious as gold nuggets. There was a paper cup thrown in on top of some of the other bags, so Tails used that as a container for his small haul.
He hopped out of the dumpster to set the cup down, freeing up his hands to search for more food. Dusting his gloves off, Tails straightened up with a satisfied smile and looked right into a stranger's face.Â
His heart stopped. Every inch of him froze in place as he was caught in the stunned stare of an alpaca mobian just a few feet away.
She stood in the yellow light of a streetlamp, just barely bleeding in between the buildings. But it was enough for her to see the shape of a small child climb out of a diner's dumpster with a cup of unwanted french fries from someone else's plate. Tails's eyes darted to the cup at his feet, then back at the alpaca's face, his breath quickly clouding the air in front of him as his instincts screamed at him to run.
It wasn't until she took a step towards him that he scooped it back up and stumbled away from her. His tails tangled up with one another, fighting over whether to twine together to look like one or spin fast enough for him to fly far, far away.
"Wait—" the alpaca called out, thinking twice about taking another step towards him. "It's okay. You're not in trouble."
A lie. It was always trouble if someone found him. Even if the food in dumpsters would only go to waste, in everyone's mind it was even more of a waste if their scraps went towards feeding him. He wasn't even worth their garbage.
A plastic bag crinkled in the stillness of the winter night, offered to him by the outstretched arm of a stranger and stopped Tails in his tracks. Sonic had offered him food. Food that was fresh and warm and filled with flavors he'd never known before. One person had thought he deserved more than other people's trash. One person went out of his way to make sure he got it.
"Here," the alpaca said. "If you're hungry, you can have this. My leftovers."
Tails watched the bag sway slightly as it was held up and away from her body. He could make out the shapes of two styrofoam containers inside it. One was a bit boxy, while the other looked like an extra wide cup. Sometimes Sonic got containers like those on the days where they ate food from a restaurant, when it was something that could be saved for later.
"It's not much. Just half a tuna melt and some tomato soup," the alpaca continued, still holding the plastic bag out. "It might not be piping hot, but it'll be warmer than those fries you've got there."
Tails tightened his grip on the cup of fries he'd collected, but his eyes remained fixed on the offered bag and the tempting aroma wafting from it. Whatever was inside that bag would probably be better for Sonic than anything he could dig out of the garbage. Not to mention the thought of giving garbage to Sonic of all people, like he didn't deserve better than that…
Sonic deserved the best.
But even though Tails wanted nothing more in that moment than to give him that, he was pinned in place by the alpaca's soft stare. Knees locked. Chest tight. Teetering just on the edge of taking flight.
The alpaca seemed to realize this, so she crouched down and set the bag on the ground. The plastic crinkled as it settled, sitting harmlessly in the snow while she took several steps back.Â
"It's okay. Things have been tough for a lot of people around here ever since the old chemical plant got bought out and let everyone go," she told him. "Money and food… it's all been hard to come by. So, I get it. Go ahead. Take what you need."
She continued to back away until she was back on the sidewalk, no longer a looming threat between the back of the diner and the building beside it. She smiled in the halo of the lamplight and lifted her hand in a slight wave. Her boots crunched through the snow as she walked away, disappearing into the quiet winter night without another word.
Just leaving the lone plastic bag on the ground.
His ears flicked about as his nerves seized up, but Tails slowly crept towards the food. His nose twitched as the savory smells reached him through their containers, the hearty tomato standing out most of all. It wasn't quite like the chili Sonic smothered their hot dogs with whenever he had a chance, but it was close enough that Tails thought he might still like it.
And if that lady wasn't lying—if this had been food she meant to eat later—then it couldn't be bad to eat. Couldn't be a trick or a trap. She would've had to plan that, and she'd looked just as surprised to see him behind the diner as he'd been to see her.
Puffing out his chest, Tails suddenly surged forward and snatched the bag. In a whirl, he flew up and away from the diner, only pausing on the roof of a nearby building to open the bag and inspect its contents. It was half a sandwich and a cup of soup, just like she'd said. The bread was lightly toasted and some melted cheese was starting to congeal along the edge of the sandwich from the cold, but it was fresher than anything he'd find in a dumpster.
Tails packed it all up again and set his sights on the edge of town before he took flight once more through the snowy sky.
His little tails spun as fast as he could make them go, bobbing precariously in the air as he followed the path deeper into the forest. The food wasn't that heavy, but it was a long way to fly while carrying something, even if carrying Sonic around was making him a little bit stronger each time. At least Tails thought so, and that was what Sonic said, so it must've been true.Â
As he came across the familiar, but now-frozen brook, Tails dropped down to his feet to give his tails a bit of a break. He traveled a bit slower through the brush in the dark, poked and prodded by the points of dead branches that he couldn't see too clearly, all while doing his best to protect the bag of food from being torn open by them.
When he finally wriggled free of them, close to the shelter of their cabin, Tails nearly broke into a run.
But something was lying in the snow just ahead of him.
Tails squinted at it in the dark, snowflakes impeding his vision as they caught on his lashes. But a dark, sharp shape cut through the white powder that looked an awful lot like…
Sonic.
The bag of food smacked against the snow when the handles slipped from his grasp, forgotten as Tails scrambled over to the misshapen lump lying face down in the middle of the path. The snow hadn't buried him completely, but it covered him enough that he had to have been lying there for at least a little while. Heedless of getting pricked this time around, Tails dug his paws through the snow drift to clear it away as quickly as he could from Sonic's quills.
Once freed, Tails rolled him over onto his back. He was stiff and so cold, his fever momentarily drowned out by the snow. His eyes were closed, but his chest still shuddered with each exhale.Â
Still breathing. Not gone.
With a frantic surge of energy, Tails hefted Sonic up under the arms and dragged him through the snow, heading back towards their cavern. He didn't know why Sonic had tried to leave the shelter, but now that Tails had returned with the lighter and some food, he'd make sure he'd get better. Morning couldn't come without Sonic.
When they got back inside, Tails laid Sonic down on his bed, then draped his coat and both blankets back over his body. Fishing the lighter out of his shoe, Tails spun the little wheel with his thumb until a tiny flame came to life in his hands. He held it up to the charred remains of their old campfire, tired embers slowly reigniting and warming the icy little cave.Â
Though his eyes were still closed, Sonic turned towards the small fire, its warmth still enough to permeate the layers he was bundled under. Tails watched him for a good minute, his heart beating just as fast as when he'd stolen the lighter from the aardvark at the diner or when he thought the alpaca might try to chase him down. Which reminded him; the food.
While Sonic warmed up, Tails darted back out to retrieve the bag of food. His cup of fries were stashed away inside it with the soup and sandwich, set aside as he unpacked everything else beside the hedgehog. His gloves were dirty from the dumpster, so he took them off and left them at the mouth of the cave so the lingering odor wouldn't invade their sleeping space too much. Then he settled in and popped open the lid to the soup first, gentle as he carried it over to Sonic's face. His nose was too stuffed up to smell it properly, unaware that the food was even there, so Tails crawled behind him and pushed his head up until it was propped up against his shoulder. Green eyes finally fluttered open, chest hitching from the change in position.
Sonic glanced down as the soup container was pressed into his hands, Tails struggling to keep both of them balanced while supporting his weight. Though his fingers were clumsy and stiff, Sonic eventually secured his grip on it while Tails guided it to his muzzle. The broth sloshed against his mouth when Tails tried tipping it towards him, but as soon as the taste registered, Sonic started to drink it down with desperate gulps. It was liquidy enough that he could, smooth and easy on his throat.Â
Tails made sure he drank every drop, only pulling away when the cup was empty. Sonic coughed a bit as the acidity from the tomato tickled his throat, but it quieted when Tails brought him the sandwich next. His nose scrunched a bit as he chewed, like he couldn't tell what the flavor was, but hunger outweighed any reservations he might've had and he ate more than half of it before he curled up and away from the idea of food.
Tails scarfed down what remained of the tuna melt along with each of the fries in his cup, licking the salt and grease from his fingertips when they were all gone.Â
Movement out of the corner of his eye immediately drew his attention back to Sonic. He'd rolled onto his side with some effort, facing Tails and the campfire. A deep frown etched across his brow as he still shivered despite the layers of blankets and the firelight flickering across his face. One arm wiggled free from the blankets, reaching out across the cave floor. His palm patted the ground, fingers grasping to hold onto something.
A deep sigh melted the tension from his body when Tails's fingers curled around Sonic's. The kit sat close, watching as the frown lines finally faded away. His muzzle was still flushed and his body still wracked with tremors, but his face slowly went slack with sleep as long as he held onto his hand.
Their hands stayed connected as Tails snuggled up against Sonic's front, his tails curling over his hip to give him a little extra warmth. Sonic's body still radiated too much heat, but it was nice to cuddle against after being out in the cold for so long. And as Tails's thicker fur surrounded the hedgehog, his shivering ceased as he settled beside him with another softer sigh.
He laid one ear against Sonic's chest, listening to the faint, wispy breaths that made it rise and fall. In his own chest, a gentle rumble built up. Whenever he felt sick, sometimes purring helped. So he purred; hard enough for Sonic to feel it through the layers tucked around him and loud enough for him to hear it over the rattling in his lungs. Though he'd been determined to watch Sonic all night, to make sure he'd wake up in the morning, Tails couldn't fight the squeaky yawn that forced his jaw open or the way the combined warmth of Sonic and the fire made his heavy eyelids droop closed. But even as Tails sank deep into his own slumber, the soft vibrations continued, soothing both himself and Sonic long into the night.
And in the morning, there would be a pot of porridge cooking over their fire and the smell would slowly rouse him from a bed that smelled like Sonic. But before he'd have a chance to fully wake, there'd be a light tap on his shoulder and two soft notes whistled against his ear, beckoning him out of the dark. C'mon, Tails.
And when Tails opened his eyes, the sun would be up, shining with a smile just for him.Â
And it would be a good day.
#sonic the hedgehog#miles tails prower#sonic fanfiction#sonic and tails#they're brothers your honor#the picket fence timeline#sick!fic#sick sonic :(#hurt/comfort#sonic and tails are nonverbal#tails has ptsd#tw homeless minors#tw food insecurity#tw small animal death#headcanon that sonic doesn't get sick often but when he does it hits him hard and fast#he recovers quick but not after having all his symptoms dialed up to 11 as he speeds through his own sickness#skimmilk stories#skimming asks#childofthemoon86#really wanted this out by my birthday so hooray!#mission accomplished xD#my valentine's day gift to you all <3 lol#~7000 words
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We should give Fish Stanley/ Relativity Falls Stanley, SHANKLIN give him a therapy possum that kid is too sad
Who do you think killed Filbrick???
Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost
#Selfish Shellfish AU#relativity falls#ask#gravity falls#stanley pines#shanklin#i wanted to be mean and be like Shanklin stayed in gravity falls just like everyone else Stanley loved#but this is much funnier#now stan's on the run and taking the fall for the stab possum#but shanklin stays by his side#stan is pretty sure that everytime Shanklin screeches and bites that one place on his arm bloody he says “i love you”#Shanklin might just be hungry who knows#stan can't let animal control catch poor shanklin#he loves him. rabies and all#very sad and very fishy relativity falls au -name still pending#tw death mention#tw child abuse#Shanklin saw his food source in danger an attacked :D#Stan always gives him the best snacks#Stan is on the run but nothing hurts. They're just a weird kid and a stab possum#huh I imagine Stan to be just a little kid in this but if years passed he cant be#UNLESS Stan died together with Shanklin and they're both ghosts-not that the gravity falls crew knows it yet. Filbrick hid it all#and told them Stan doesn't want to talk to them#They can finally leave New Jersey and of course will be dragged right to gravity falls#little Shanklin might just be something like a spirit guide for Stan? a guardian possum? hmm#and then Stan and Shanklin finally arrive in Gravitiy Falls and thats so funny. Why is Stanford big now? Did he eat some weird mushrooms#again for science? Haha so hey#Whats up everyone? why are you looking at me like that? STOP LOOKING AT ME! SHANKLIN HELP
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