Chapter Text
3: Games
“ Yes. I killed him. And buried her in flowers," I say. "And I sang her to sleep.”
― Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Prompt: “No, this can’t be real!”
~0o0o0~
If there's one thing Miles hates more than anything, more than the Games, the world and the people in it, it's being weak or useless.
Most in his District thought he had no chance of survival within their home town, never mind if he was chosen as Tribute. He was young, small and scrawny, unsuited for combat, timid and socially inept. He didn't stand a chance.
So he proved them wrong.
He left the orphanage and built his own house in the forest. He taught himself to read and write and how to fix and build. He collects books and builds machines, which he keeps close and secret. Gods know what'll happen if anyone catches wind of his creations, whether they'll be stolen and sold to the highest bidder or if he'll be taken and sold to the highest bidder.
Turns out it doesn't matter either way.
~0o0o0~
“Miles Prower!”
All eyes are on him, wide and disbelieving as Peacekeepers escort him to the stage.
He's been selected as a Tribute for District 3.
He's been selected to die in an arena full of children like him.
Everything passes in a blur. He barely makes conversation with his trainer, a well-meaning walrus named Rotor who'd damaged his spine during his run in the Games. He barely registers the interviews or makeovers or the girl chosen to die with him, a racoon named Marine.
He remembers breaking down later, though, in his lavish new room. Curling up on the bed and sobbing, cursing his parents and birth, mutation, brains and everything that led him here, until Marine barrelled in and held him. Neither of them spoke once his tears subsided. There was nothing to say.
Except:
“Don't forget about me, mate,” she'd whispered in the stillness. Miles had looked at her, eyes wide, and she'd smiled. Her eyes were empty.
(She'd accepted her fate, too. But why on earth did she think he would outlive her?)
~0o0o0~
Sonic the Hedgehog from District 12 is a volunteer.
It was all over the news—no one ever willingly entered the Games (unless you're a Career, bred for the purpose), and Miles is intrigued. He looks it up; he'd volunteered for his friend, a hedgehog named Silver. No one had taken the place of the girl that came with him, a chipmunk named Sally Acorn, which only thickened the plot.
Why, out of all the people from the poorest District, had he sacrificed himself? Was he brave or stupid? Noble or arrogant?
(Suicidal or rebellious?)
Miles meets him for the first time in the training hall, and he's just as cool in person. He's fast, not just on his feet but with knives, hitting bullseyes left and right, a cocky edge to his grin in answer to the glares and murmurs of other Tributes. The chipmunk girl, Sally, rolls her eyes and shoves him on the shoulder, a hint of playfulness in their back and forth that suggests a long-time friendship or something more.
Miles watches from where he hovers in the rafters and can't stop grinning.
Sonic the Hedgehog... He's so cool!
~0o0o0~
“These are cool.”
Miles stars with a squeak, whirling. Sonic the Hedgehog stands over his workbench, ogling at the gadgets and trinkets lining the polished surface with genuine interest. He doesn't move to touch them, though his fingers twitch like they want to like most people would and have. Miles would be floored by the respect if he wasn't still marvelling over Sonic the Hedgehog standing next to him and complimenting him!
And then he turns to Miles and smiles— “These what you're gonna use in the arena?”
Miles wills his mouth and brain to work and nods. “Y-Yeah. I mean, what's the point of having all these parts if no one's gonna use them, right?” he says, proud when he doesn't stammer too much.
“True,” Sonic muses, his vibrant, emerald green eyes casting about the room filled with other Tributes honing their crafts. His grin falls slightly. “Makes you wonder...”
Miles pauses. Sonic had noticed, then. It's not exactly a secret—and those who don't know, who don't see it or refuse to, are the target audience.
He looks down at the gadget in his hands—a metal orb holding a taser, a knife, and miniature stink bombs in small compartments. Not his best work, but better than hauling huge bags that'll slow him down on the ground or in the air. “Yeah,” he mumbles. Sonic twitches next to him, a sign that he's listening. “All this tech, all these resources, and they're using it to fund a game show where kids kill each other.” Miles smirks bitterly. “All while they sit back, sipping wine and eating A5 grade steaks and bet on us like racehorses. Like we didn't have hopes and dreams of turning eighteen...”
There's a pause, thick and heavy.
Miles realizes too late that maybe he's said too much, unloading his mournful thoughts on someone in the same position as he, souring the mood—
A white-gloved hand sticks out right under his nose and Miles jumps, startled. He looks up. Sonic is smiling down at him, understanding and warmth in bright green eyes the likes of which Miles hasn't seen before.
“I'm Sonic,” he says. “You got a name, kiddo?”
Miles feels his cheeks and eyes burn—he hasn't left, he doesn't hate him—and takes Sonic's hand. “Miles Prower,” he says, shaking his hand. “But... everyone here just calls me Tails.”
Sonic draws his hand back. “Cos of the extra tail?”
“Ditto. Everyone back home said I was a freak for it...”
Sonic regards him a moment, thinking. “... I dunno. I think it's a cool nickname. Plus, you can fly with those bad boys! That's awesome! No one else here can say they have a leg up on the competition. Or a tail up, rather.”
Miles stares at Sonic. Sonic grins at Miles.
“Oh gods,” Miles breathes. “You're a dork.”
Sonic throws his head back and laughs loud enough to draw the attention of half the room. But Miles— Tails pays them little mind, uncaring for the first time, and finds himself giggling along with the hedgehog.
When Sonic throws an arm around Tails' shoulders—“You're alright, Tails!”—he doesn't flinch. He leans against the older boy as he leads him to where Sally is talking with Knuckles the Echidna from District 2, an intimidating boy with a frown that seemed permanent at first. But now the frown has settled into something almost soft— not a smile, but not a scowl—and at the sight of Sonic approaching with Tails in tow, his eyes soften further even as they roll in exasperation at something the hedgehog says after introducing the fox kit. Soon, Knuckles' Division partner--a hammer-wielding pink hedgehog named Amy--comes trotting over and fist-bumps Sally before batting her eyes at Sonic.
It's strange, Tails thinks as they talk about strategy, survival, home, everything and nothing. It's strange how one hedgehog gathered a group of doomed children and bound them together in a way that feels like it's always been this way.
It's strange, Tails thinks as he tells Marine that night of what happened, that he has real friends for the first time in his life, if only for now.
It's strange, Tails thinks on the third and final day of training, that he doesn't feel as scared with Sonic and Knuckles by his side like they've always been there.
Even if they won't be for much longer.
~0o0o0~
By the end of day one, six Tributes are already dead—Elise and Chris from District Nine, Charmy and Cream from Eleven, Molly from Four, and Whisper from Ten, shot in the back by the boy from her District, Mimic.
Somehow, Tails is still alive.
Marine had died on day two. He'd been too slow to help, too far away to catch her as Jet shoved her over the bridge hanging above the river.
She'd hit the rocks, and that was it. Quick and painless. Jet had stared at her body for a long time before trudging back into the forest.
It was inevitable. Tails hardly knew her, yet he cried for her, laying her body by the river, a flower on her chest. She'd loved the water, he remembers.
You were right. I outlived you. I'm so sorry.
He hasn't seen Sonic or Knuckles since the Games began; Sonic had zipped through the forest, too fast for anyone to catch, and Knuckles had ploughed his way through the brush. Amy had a hammer in her hands, and Molly was dead before she could draw her arrow; Amy had left her body behind, sobbing apologies. Sally hadn't gone for a weapon, vanishing into the foliage. Tails had taken to the skies (as high as he could go before hitting the barrier), and that was the last he'd seen of his friends.
We'll meet up once things calm down, Sonic had promised. Tails had wondered, still does, why any of them bother.
There can only be one winner. Amazing as Sonic is, he can't save them all.
(But Tails can help him win. He won't die weak and useless.)
~0o0o0~
He finds Sonic sleeping in a tree on the morning of day four.
Careers have set up camp below him, sleeping unaware of Tails' presence. Sonic's left leg looks rough with burns and a long gash across his thigh.
Tails settles in the tree nearby. “Psst. Psst!”
Sonic jerks awake, looking around. When his eyes land on Tails, relief shines in them like the sun. “Thank God,” he whispers.
He cares, Tails thinks, and his eyes well up. No one's ever...
He blinks the tears away and doesn't have to force a smile as he waves at the blue hedgehog. He points to the humming nest of Tracker Jackers a few feet above Sonic's head, then at the sleeping Tributes below them.
Sonic looks up at the nest, down at the Tributes, and then at Tails with wide eyes. “Damn, kiddo.”
Tails shrugs helplessly. “Do you want Scourge to kill you?” he whispers back.
Sonic looks down at the green hedgehog snoring away, Fiona Fox nestled against his chest. He frowns. “Good point,” he says and gets climbing. Tails keeps watching over the Tributes, Scourge in particular.
Scourge isn't as fast as Sonic or as strong as Shadow from District 7, but he's violent and ruthless, determined to win solely to prove himself the strongest. He'd had his sights set on Sonic since day one. Tails doesn't know why, or why Shadow, Rouge, Mina or Mighty are teaming up with him, but it doesn't matter.
Tails will protect Sonic. They'll find Knuckles and Amy and Sally, and they'll... they'll figure something out.
(Tails doesn't want to die. But if it comes down to it—if they're the only ones left—Tails hopes it'll be painless. Hopes Sonic doesn't blame himself too much.)
Sonic cuts the branch holding the hive, and it shatters on the ground. The Tributes run for it, but Fiona isn't fast enough to outrun the horde. Her screams of pain are wild and piercing as she's stung, over and over. Until she stumbles to the earth, choking on vomit as she dies.
Sonic falls from the tree gracelessly. Tails can see giant welts on his neck and arm where he'd been stung. He stumbles, already lost in feverish hallucinations.
No. Oh no.
Tails' heart hammers as he zips to the forest floor, catching Sonic just as he passes out.
No, no nonononono he can't die, he can't! No, no oh no this is my fault, my fault, I told him to cut the branch oh gods please Sonic wake up—
Had it been anyone but Knuckles who'd come barrelling through the brush at that moment, Tails and Sonic would be dead. But Knuckles snatches Sonic's limp body into his arms, snapping Tails from his downward spiral into panic and guilt, and he follows the echidna deeper into the arena.
(Tails doesn't look at Fiona's stiff, bloated body lying among the leaves. Doesn't think about how she was left behind without a second thought. Doesn't think about how all of this was partially his doing.
All that matters is that Sonic lives.)
~0o0o0~
Sonic wakes up after two days.
Tails flies into his arms, wailing apologies, clinging tightly with no intention of letting go. It's childish and stupid (pointless), but he doesn't care, less so when Sonic's relieved sigh rattles from his chest as his arms come around to hug Tails close, nosing his tuft of hair. Knuckles, standing off to the side, grins.
They have a plan to bring Scourge and his team (the term used very loosely) down a peg, a plan to find Amy and Sally. But for now, Tails is content to sit in the protective circle of Sonic's arms, Knuckles' steady presence nearby. And when the sun goes down, Sonic fashions them a deep burrow shrouded by branches and leaves, and they cuddle up close despite Knuckles' protests—
“You're a cuddle-bear, don't even deny it.”
“Shut the hell up, hedgehog.”
Tails nestles between them with his namesakes draped over them both. He sighs, content and safe for the first time since the Games began—no. For the first time, Miles 'Tails' Prower feels safe.
Is this what having brothers feels like?
~0o0o0~
Mimic finds him as he's lighting up his signal fire.
Tails knows it's him though he wears Amy's smile—her eyes are mint green, not chocolate brown, and her gait is too smooth, too cautious. And she never carried a knife.
Tails turns his taser on him and fires. Mimic drops the disguise and writhes in the grass, mouth gaping in a silent scream. Tails pins him down, straddling his waist, and raises the dagger Sonic had given him high over his head.
Mimic stares. His smile trembles as he laughs. “Yeah, right. You don't have the guts, cub.”
Tails grips the handle hard, fangs bared. His arms shake.
“I have more than you,” he snarls, tears pooling in his eyes. “I didn't stab my own in the back.”
“They'll kill you eventually, y'know,” Mimic presses, almost desperate. “That's how this works, kid. Twelve Tributes, only one gets out. And those hedgehogs are strong, cocky bastards. They'll do whatever it takes to win, you mean as much to that blue rat as Whisper meant to me! You mean nothing, you never have! They don't care! ”
Tails recalls the way Sonic and Knuckles had embraced him, embraced each other, tight and warm, the way Sonic had crouched to meet Tails' eyes with his hands on his shoulders and promised to see him later for supper, the way Knuckles ruffled his hair before turning away, the way Sonic had lingered a moment longer and said “be careful, little bro,” before jogging off—
Tails meets Mimic's eyes. His arms stop shaking.
“Yes. They do,” he says and brings the knife down.
A canon goes off in the distance.
Tails folds Mimic's arms over his chest once he's gone, hiding the mortal wound and shutting his eyes.
I'm sorry. But one of them has to win. I won't let my brothers die.
He wipes the tears from his eyes and sets the fire.
I'll do whatever it takes.
~0o0o0~
He should've paid more attention.
Then again, Espio is a chameleon. He should've known better.
He's trapped, caught under a net, namesakes entangled and useless under his squirming body. Espio is gone, departing with a genuine apology—“I have my reasons to win, Miles.”
But that doesn't matter. Tails doesn't care for his words, not when he's trapped, alone, exposed, useless and weak and —
The birds chirp a familiar tune. Sonic's tune.
He can't help it.
Tails writhes under his bindings and screams for his brother.
“ SONIC! HELP ME! HELP ME, SONIC!”
His throat is sore and his voice is hoarse when Sonic bursts through the leaves into the small clearing in a flash of blue. The hedgehog slides to his knees beside the terrified kit and cuts at the ropes binding the net to the tree, yanking it off of Tails and pulling him into a crushing embrace in the same motion.
Tails sobs into Sonic's chest. “I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—I d-didn't see 'im, I—”
“ Shh, buddy, it's okay,” Sonic holds him tight, a trembling hand cradling the back of Tails' head as he rocks them back and forth. “You're okay, you did fine, it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay...”
He sounds like he's reassuring himself, too. It works, somewhat, and Tails realizes that the hedgehog, his rock, his place of safety, is just as terrified as he'd been.
Mimic was wrong. Sonic cares about me. My brother cares.
A branch snaps. Ear swivelling, Tails looks up.
Espio cocks his arrow from the branch overhead, aiming at Sonic's head.
Tails' body moves on its own—
He has to win. He has to live. I'll do whatever it takes.
He shoves Sonic into the dirt. A string twangs, an arrow zips through the air—
Tails doesn't feel it at first. He watches as Sonic leaps to his feet and throws his dagger, hitting its mark in Espio's chest. He watches the chameleon's body topple from the branch and fall in a heap.
Sonic doesn't wait to see him land. His eyes are on Tails now, wide and horrified.
“No,” the hedgehog whispers, his voice cracking like glass, his reaching hand quivering.
Then Tails feels it.
He looks down, watching the blood drip sluggishly down where the arrow pierced his chest.
… oh.
Ignoring Sonic's protest, he slowly pulls the arrow out.
It hurts.
His legs give out. Sonic catches him before his knees hit the earth, and he lays him down, pressing a hand against the wound, pumping blood. It won't stop, staining white fur and white gloves a dark red.
It hurts so much.
“Tails, buddy, look at me, you gotta look at me.” Sonic's bloody hand cups Tails' cheek and turns his face upwards to meet electrified emerald eyes. Tails' breaths hitch on tears and pain, and Sonic's smile wobbles as his thumb strokes the kit's cheek.
“Hey. Hey, you're okay. Don't—don't cry, you're okay.” Sonic presses their foreheads together, rocking gently, shoulders shaking. “You're gonna be fine, this—this is just a scratch, yeah? Kn-Knuckles is on his way, h-he'll fix you up, and you'll be fine, you'll see! Just—just hold on a little longer, okay? Okay, buddy?”
Tails stares at Sonic's face as tears pool in his eyes.
His chest doesn't hurt so much anymore.
I'm going to die.
He doesn't want to die. Not now, not when he finally understands what it means, what it feels like to be loved.
He doesn't want to leave Sonic and Knuckles. He doesn't want to leave his friends, his brothers.
Miles doesn't want to die.
But Tails had saved Sonic. He took the arrow meant for him and took care of Mimic by himself. He protected them. He saved them.
Sonic has to win. So Tails has to die.
I wasn't useless after all.
It takes two tries to lift his hand to cover Sonic's. The babbling stops, and Sonic stares at Tails.
Tails smiles. “... it's okay.” It's an effort to work his lips, his voice weak from screaming, from the life he can feel draining from him. “It's o-okay... knew it'd happen. Only... one of us can w-win, so...”
“ No.” Sonic shakes his head hard. A tear drips down his cheek. “No, no, we'll all get through this—you, me, Knuckles, Amy and Sal, we'll—I would've figured something out, I will, and—and you're gonna live, Miles Prower, I swear to God you're— God, this isn't real, this can't be happening—”
“All my life,” Tails says, hushing Sonic again as he lets the tears flow freely, “I only... only wanted to be s-strong... useful. Nobody wanted me... nobody cared. Not 'till you came... and Knuckles... s-so I promised myself I'd p-protect you... help you win, no matter what... 'cos you cared 'bout me... n' I care 'bout y-you...”
Tails beams up at Sonic. “... I always wanted... a brother. And now... I got t-two of 'em.”
“Oh, Tails—” Sonic chokes on a sob and pulls Tails in, crushing him in an embrace and burying his nose into his hair.
Tails can't feel his legs. He can't feel his arms or fingers laying limp on his chest. He feels Sonic's warmth, though. So warm. So safe.
Still, he's scared. It doesn't hurt anymore. But he's scared. Dying is scary, even though he knows it's coming, even though he knows he has to, he has no choice.
“... Sonic?”
“... Y-Yeah, little brother?”
Little brother.
Tails smiles against Sonic's neck. “... can you sing?”
Sonic sniffles. Tails feels him nod, adjusting to sit cross-legged, cradling Tails so he can see Sonic's face. The hedgehog's cheeks are damp with tears, eyes red around the edges, but his smile is wide, warmth and love incarnate. His hand, crusty with Tails' blood drying on his fingertips, gently strokes his hair.
“Good times and bad times, I can count on being with you. I thank you for staying so true. My life will go on a long time, have to catch up when I see you. And you are my reason I can make it through...”
Sonic's voice cracks and breaks as his tears drip like rain, but it's soft, gentle.
His eyes droop, gazing at the clear skies peeking through the canopy.
For a coliseum of bloodshed, the forest has always been so beautiful...
It's bright. So bright, like heaven's light.
“I will be there if you need me, and I know you'll do the same. I can see you... I can hear you in my h-heart...”
Sonic's voice is fading. The light, so warm and comforting, so inviting, gets brighter.
Safe. I feel so safe.
I feel love.
“You will be here if I n-need you, I will never have to guess... 'cause we are... v-very special... friends...”
I love you, Sonic.
Thank you.
Thank you for letting me be useful. Thank you for caring.
Thank you.
“... I'm so sorry, Tails...”
Thank you...
He feels lips press against his forehead, a wet cheek nuzzling against his.
The light envelops him.
...thank...
...you...
In the distance, a canon fires.
Miles Tails Prower dies looking through the canopy, his purpose fulfilled.
Miles Tails Prower dies with a smile on his face in his brothers' arms.
(He never hears Sonic's screams.)