And, here we are in the final "bad" stage. There will be one more chapter, which will be uploaded later today. I'll put my final greeting in that, so stay tuned!
ReporterDigs: Thank you so much for your review! Something about if felt really academic to me, which always carries a lot of weight in my mind. I dunno, I'm weird. Blaze is one of my favorite characters too! I hope you enjoy these last two chapters as much as the first three.
Tails is FLUFFY: Aha, I see what you did there. When I started, I knew I wanted to create a "cozy" sort of chapter. Fire seemed appropriate, and who better to come along with that than the pyro princess herself! I have to thank you-when I started this chapter, I had no idea where I was going. You mentioning Amy helped me round out a general flow of events and really made this section streamlined! Also, I never mentioned how Sonic died. After reading a few other stories where a main character dies and someone is grieving them, I found it almost took away from the process of the living. I wanted the focus to be on Tails moving past his grief, therefore I left it up to the reader's imagination. It may also be more relatable that way, considering anyone can plug in whatever horrible death they imagine. (That could just be me, though, hehe!)
DahserMan1025: Aww, that is wonderful praise! Thank you for all your support!
shdowhunt60: In hindsight, I feel like I could have transitioned that a bit better. The first section happens after the second, but right before the third. I may come back someday and re-write to make it a little more smooth. And I could never kill off Tails! Heh, he's one of my favorite characters... not to mention I had seen too many where he died so Sonic had to avenge him or cry a lot or whatever, and I wanted a fresh perspective. Yes, they kind of are the ultimate brOTP lol
Anyway, here is chapter four for your viewing pleasure!
Stage Four: Depression
February was the month of emptiness. Somewhere between winter and spring, the gray skies that plagued the area mirrored the bleak expressions of citizens that trudged back and forth through the city. They drove—or flew, or walked, or swam—to work each day and went home each night. Vague memories of the holidays could be seen in the new scarf someone wore to work, or the way the boss had to buy a bigger belt from one too many feasts. It was all very banal. A script that had been repeated each year before and would for each year after.
Tails allowed his hand to finally slip from its precarious position on the edge of the couch. It hit the floor with a dull thud. He couldn't even tell if it hurt or not. A languid sigh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes for fear of them drying out.
How long had it been since he could tell the difference between being awake and asleep? A sort of clinical numbness had stolen over him in the weeks since Shadow's last visit. He knew he had to stay alive and he knew that he had to eat to live, but... there wasn't much else to it. Right?
The fox rolled over on the couch and rubbed his face, a frown forming on weary brows. Birds chirped in the trees outside. All else was masked in a stifling silence that bore down on the little house from all sides like a judge waiting for the jury's sentence, gavel in hand. It was a sickening feeling, not being able to experience motivation, excitement, or even the sorrow that had plagued Tails for an entire season. Instead, all emotion had been replaced with a thick, gelatinous wall that prevented any of the kitsune's more prominent thoughts from reaching fruition. He would ponder the idea of getting up and washing his laundry... then, he'd hit the barrier and forget his original train of thought.
Not to mention, there was the never-ending stream of phone calls.
"Hi, Tails. Mom wants to know if you're doing okay..." Cream's cheery voice chirped through the machine, "She helped me make macarons and I think you'd really like them. Try to call back, okay?"
"Tails, Shadow won't stop pestering me to call you for him," Rouge muttered before her tone turned motherly, "Make sure you stay eating. Try not to worry Shaddy too much, okay? He's really busy with GUN."
"Tails... just calling to see how you're doing..." It had been so long since Tails had heard Amy's voice, she almost sounded like a stranger. He had saved that message, if only to comfort himself in knowing that he was not alone in his crippling sadness. The voicemails from worried friends had all accumulated into one cryptic sentence from Shadow.
"Almost there, kid." He didn't even make excuses for not checking in.
That one had wound Tails up; he almost did something about it. But... in a life where everything led to the same end... what good would calling Shadow back and asking why he'd abandoned the fox do? Why even bother? In the end, Tails had unplugged the machine and moved on to smaller things. These days, activity was sitting up in order to lay down the opposite direction. The fireplace remained unused; a pile of ashes the only sign Tails had ever sat by it for quiet thinking. Bowls, plates, glasses and silverware played jenga in the sink. Occasionally, a drip of water might fall and plink quietly on the stainless steel. The distinct smell of boy permeated the house.
Tails paused mid-reverie to listen. There were footsteps on the pavement walkway in front of the house. They weren't heavy enough to be Shadow, but they weren't sharp enough to be high-heels either. The kitsune sat up on his elbows, deciding it would have to be Cream and whatever baked good she had opted to bring. When a sharp rap on the door nearly exploded the walls out of silence, he simply murmured back at it.
"'S open..."
The brass knob twisted almost warily, if such things could possess intelligence. Tails frowned when the door didn't swing open with the pronounced familiarity that Cream had always had with it. Instead, the faintest sliver of pink obscured the light from the crack in the doorway.
Tails blinked vacantly, "Hello?"
"Tails...?" Suddenly, the door was completely open and Amy Rose was leaning in, looking much more her age in a charcoal-colored pea coat. Her quills hung limp on either side of her head and her headband was absent. She stepped into the entry and shut the door gingerly. Somehow, by her frail steps and the quiet aura that hung over her, Tails realized that she had probably been in as bad of shape as he had... or worse. At last, the pink hedgehog turned to face him with a polite smile.
"Hey Tails, long time no see."
Tails nodded, a pinprick of memory prodded at his thoughts. Amy made her way around the furniture, choosing to seat herself in a worn old recliner that sat juxtapose to the couch. Tails moved into a more proper position with both feet on the floor and his namesakes propped on either side of him. He made no sound, only stared at the older girl before him.
After a few awkward minutes, Amy finally spoke, "So... whatcha been up to?" It sounded forced and she blinked rapidly after saying it. Tails cocked his head, wondering how to answer. In what way is it easy to say one had been lying on a couch every day for a month? When Tails failed to respond, Amy nodded and stared at her folded hands.
"Not much, I take it... well, I haven't been particularly active myself. Those first few weeks I just stayed in my room and looked at photo albums..." She smiled bitterly, "I listened to one of, uh... his old voicemails over and over, too. Probably sounds pretty crazy, right?"
Tails wondered if it was. A small part of him wished he could have listened to a recording as well. Would the sound if his brother have eased his pain?
"Anyway," Amy leaned forward, placing her arms on her slim legs, "I went out to the... the grave yesterday with Cream." She inhaled and swallowed, "It... it wasn't so bad. I was thinking... Tails, maybe you'd like to come out and see it?"
"No, thank you," Tails voice cracked from lack of use. Or was it denial, back for a second round?
"Oh..." Amy's face fell. She stood and straightened her clothes, "That's fine, then. Listen, I just came to get some things from... from his room. Is that okay?"
Tails felt his stomach tighten. Sonic's room? He hadn't even thought about it. In all that time, he had been to shocked, too high-strung, too... afraid?
Yes: Tails was afraid. He was afraid that if he opened that door and saw the empty oak bed, covered in a layer of dust... if he saw the blue alarm clock with the little rocket ship on its face... if he saw the final, lasting proof that Sonic was never—ever—coming back, he would lose every shred of sanity he had clung to. He would break and hurt everyone even more. Tails didn't want to hurt any of his friends. He didn't want to do what Sonic had.
That was when Miles "Tails" Prower realized that he no longer wanted to give up.
"Well, I guess it's fine then," Amy's voice echoed at the back of his mind, "I'll be back in ten minutes, tops." She walked back around the couch and turned up the narrow staircase. Tails heard the floorboards creak overhead, but he did not process it.
Instead, his soft blue eyes drifted out the front window. Sunlight was breaking though the flat sky and illuminating the patches of grass that poked through old snow. Bluebirds flitted every which-way on the air, singing of happiness and the return of life. A female shrew walked down the sidewalks with her toddler, pushing a stroller and looking at the first snowdrops of the year.
Tails stood from the couch and wandered into the kitchen. The new rays of sun were streaming in from the window above the sink, creating lace patterns on the opposite wall. The ivory paint that had once felt stifling and served as a painful reminder to happier times suddenly seemed warm and homey. Even the pile of dirty dishes appeared inviting.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs and Amy found Tails standing at the sink. She shifted the cardboard box she was carrying to one hip and pulled a mussed piece of paper from her pocket.
"I almost forgot," she said, "Shadow asked me to give this to you when I was on my way here. He said it was important, but he didn't want to be around when you read it." She rolled her eyes before giving the fox a small smile, "I'm going now. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything. Family sticks together!" She was gone in blur, leaving Tails holding the folded note with an air of caution. At last, he slumped into one of the dining chairs and unfolded it. Spiky, thick letters greeted him.
Tails—
If you're reading this, it means I did my job and you're on the road to recovery. Out of all our acquaintances, I think I am the only one who has gone through a loss of this magnitude before. You all know and tease me about it, but Maria was family to me as Sonic was to you and so many others who have crossed our path in the decade I've known you. When I received my true memories, the pain of loss felt as real as it must have when I stood in that escape pod, watching her die.
There is nothing like it.
Sonic and I were rivals, I'll be the first to admit it. He was just so... so loud and always in everyone's business. That, and he thought he was so much better than everyone else sometimes, that little—
Here there was a large, black scribble, as if Shadow had thought better of his thought process. Tails smiled slightly despite himself.
Even with all our differences, we shared many similarities: our species, our strength, speed, and—most importantly, in hindsight—our friends. I don't like to get sappy, kid, but you're one of those friends. You meant a lot to Faker and you mean a lot to me, even if I don't show it. When I heard that Blue Idiot had gotten himself killed, I knew it would kill you if you didn't have someone step in.
The truth is, five years back or so, he approached me about the subject of what to do if he didn't make it back one day. He told me you'd be lost. Even if you were a genius, you just didn't know how to get on by yourself. That was the day he asked me to make sure you were okay. A guardian, of sorts. I didn't want anything to do with it and I didn't give it a second thought until last October.
I remembered Maria and I remembered my promise.
When Blaze told me she found you half-dead on the floor, I was afraid for the first time in years. I felt like I had failed—both Maria's memory and Sonic's. But then, when I went over your house again I realized that wasn't true. You were getting better, even if no one else could see it.
So, Tails. If you're reading this, that means I've done my job.
You're getting better, and you will continue to get better.
And some day, you may not even feel the pain anymore. All you will feel is the memory of your best friend... and the strength of your will. You survived.
Now, this will probably be the most I talk for the next ten years, so I expect you to keep up the good work without my stepping in every minute. You're an adult, for Chaos' sake, so act like one.
But always remember, you're not alone.
—Shadow
That night, Tails managed to climb the stairs to his bedroom before accidentally falling asleep on the couch. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and crawled into his small bed as if he was eight years old all over again. He looked out his window at the bright moon in the clear sky before nestling deeper into his blankets. He stared at the ceiling—and Tails cried. They weren't tears of mourning, nor of anger. They were cleansing tears. As they flowed from his eyes and soaked into his pillowcase, they took all the negativity with them. Sobs shook his body, but Tails knew that they were the last ones he'd feel for a long time. All his denial, anger, bitterness and depression were finally gone.
And Tails slept peacefully.
