Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters (The characters go to their respective owners). Only the plot. The sweet, sweet plot. Rated M for a reason.

Tails was going home today. He stood at the gates of the military base and started searching for a nearby store, the reason being; for a pack of cigarettes. It took him no time at all, getting on his Extreme Gear, which was a bitch to get, because of some information he had to fill out for his Gear which made no sense. One of the questions being: 'Do you know how to operate an Extreme Gear?' why would he make a claim for a Gear if he didn't even know how to use it? It even had his symbol on it!

His breathe hitched as he had a flashback, he felt...distraught. He just wanted to soothe his mind with some goddamned cigarettes. As he set down the board he took a look around the base, seeing somebody wave him goodbye. He set his feet on the board, getting acquainted with it once more, he took a look at the man...and flipped him off. He didn't stop flipping the bird until he felt certain the base was behind him. He checked his watch, 'not yet' he thought.

Now he just let the breeze hit his face as he reveled in the moment, glad to be away from where it all started. After a certain amount of time, he neared a small general store in the middle of nowhere, not really nowhere as it seemed to be a modern isolated community that lay near a bridge that led to an even bigger city. He stopped at the General store and hopped off the Gear, his duffle bag moving animatedly along his back. He guessed that it was a general store because of the fact that it advertised many things on posters, one of them being cigarettes 'Bingo' he thought to himself. Although as he looked at it now, it stopped him from viewing the name of the store, there were simply too many posters.

He walked into the store with his military fatigues, his boots causing intimidating 'thumps' along the floor. He walked along with his duffle bag on his back and Gear in his right hand. As soon as he reached the man, however, the store owner just stared in awe. He faced the little man- yes, little as tails' height had grown astonishingly in his 2 years of service, making him 18. Anyway, so he faced the little man who was actually a cat of some species, He asked, "Hey, uh, can I get a pack of cigarettes, any brand." He added the last bit a little after he finished his request. The store owner immediately turned behind him and picked a pack at random, passing it to him along with a lighter. "Here ya' go!"answered the ecstatic little store owner. Either this guy had little to no customers or he approved of the military, his face souring at the last thought. He stuck to the latter. He stopped daydreaming and focused on the shopkeeper "Oh, uh, I don't need a lighter...thanks." The vulpine referenced to the slightly heavy square lighter in his hand, it was of the bulky silver lighters called 'zipper' or something except polished black. A memento of one of his fallen comrades.

"So, how much will it be?" He asked the shopkeeper. And the senior shook his head 'no' "On the house." he explained. He took the pack graciously and walked outside, his cap shielding the sun from his eyes. He looked around as he started hitting the underside of the pack, holding his gear under his armpit, as people openly eyed him. When he deemed it appropriate, he shred the box from its wrapper and peeled the top back to reach for one of the many sticks. taking one at random, he put it to his lips and sparked up the lighter, to no avail. He hissed in defeat and walked back in the shop and politely asked the man if he could refill his precious lighter. He put the cigarette back in its rightful place. The cat-man complied and started searching for his can of lighter fluid. While he set for the task tails had taken a look at his watch; it was time for his medicine. He called to the man "Is it not too much trouble to ask for a drink as well?" he heard an affirmative grunt and began looking for a beverage, oddly enough a flask of vodka appeared before him. It looked...appealing. The label said something about stainless steel flask. it could carry 10 ounces of fluid. That's all he needed to read.

Grabbing the flask and stuffing it in his empty canteen pouch, he walked over to the owner as he finally found the lighter fluid. Tails stared at his fingerless glove clad hands, with fur spilling out every orifice. As soon as he got the lighter back, "Hey," he started and the owner looked toward him. Tails slapped a 100 dollar bill on the desk. "Least I can do for the trouble." He left the store in a hurry to avoid protests from the man. He set off to an easy pace as he left towards nowhere. He pulled a small orange bottle and read the label. 'Miles Prower' under that it read 'PTSD' He was looking for the dosage and made a small 'Aha!' at the find. It read '2 pills a day' he unclasped the bottle of vodka and popped the pills in his mouth. Drowning it down his gullet with the hot sensation of alcohol. He wouldn't drink anymore, he didn't need to get drunk, not yet. He almost forgot he was carrying a duffle bag and tried hard not to topple over, to his relief, he righted himself.

As he jumped back on his board, he raced home, taking an hour or so to get there. As soon as he got there, he opened the pack of cigarettes and lit one of them and placed it into his mouth, taking puffs from the stick, the first few made him cough, but soon he got the hang of it. As he went to his garage door, he placed the cigarette in his right hand and took out the alcohol from before. He unclasped it carefully, so as to not burn himself with his own cigarette. as soon as that feat was completed he put the bottle to his mouth and used his right hand to pound open the button that would open the hanger/garage doors. The garage/hanger door was completely open, not noticing the many faces staring at him. He chugged and chugged away while all eyes were on him. As soon as he finished, he kept his gaze at the sky and proceeded to use his left hand to put away the flask and use his right hand to smoke from the cigarette. He continued puffing until he put his head to stare back at his workshop, he placed the cigarette in-between his lips. It was dark inside, but all of a sudden, "Surprise!" The lights flicked on and the vulpine snapped, using extreme precision to snap open the clasp to his knife and charge forward. He immediately put his knife to the throat of the closest one there; Sonic.

He didn't know. He couldn't have known. He didn't tell anyone he was coming back. His hard dull eyes locked with Sonic's. Their faces an inch or so away. Sonic was frozen in place. He felt like the world just took the biggest crap on him "Ah shit."