-A/N- Sorry for the long wait, but I'm in the midst of exam season over here. Hope you enjoy!
Day 10
8:38 PM – Miles 'Tails' Prower
"Dr. Tanner will see you now."
Glancing up from his seat, Miles looked to the receptionist. Sat behind a circular desk and manning two computers, she continued to work while Miles stayed seated.
"Uh, me?" The fox pointed to himself.
She gave him a nod, and gestured towards the therapist's office.
"Alright then," he muttered, standing, "Wish me luck."
"Enjoy your session, sir."
Miles headed for the door, and stepped into the room, shutting it behind him. Tanner must have paid a lot for soundproofing; the room had a stillness to it and, seeing the moonlight peer through the window blinds as rays, was beautiful. Serene, you could say. The night's light drenched the room in a subtle glow, subduing the earthy tones of the therapist's wooden furnishings.
The office was fairly typical of the trade: a large, open room with a desk in one corner for the doctor's admin work, and a sofa and chair in the centre for consultations with patients. In his usual seat in the middle sat Dr. Tanner, giving his widest grin to the fox.
"Miles! Welcome. Please, sit down."
He took to the sofa adjacent from the doctor, as always, and made himself comfortable.
"So, buddy..." Tanner leaned across to him, "What's up?"
Miles' therapist was condescension personified. While on the surface, he appeared professional and concerned, his voice had a playful lilt to it that smacked of someone talking to a petulant child. It got under the fox's skin, and a part of him guessed Tanner knew it.
"Where do I start, doc?" Miles looked up to the ceiling, kicking his seat as he thought. "Some guy came in the other day and ordered a cheeseburger. Can you believe that? The staff has been giving me trouble – they say their salaries are too low compared to how many customers we get. I mean, they say that, but I see the numbers every month and let me tell you, we're not exactly having queues out the doors, you get me? So I don't really see ho-"
"Yes, yes. The vegetarian restaurant. It's been a big source of stress for you, hasn't it? A risky business venture in an unstable economy, working with idiots, trying to get them to think when they do their jobs."
"Now hang on a second, doc. They're not idiots, I just don't think it's fair to give them a raise when-"
"You are... protective of your employees, despite your quarrels. Why, when put in a high-pressure environment such as the restaurant, do you grow attached to your staff when, in the calm of my office, you have no trouble being angry?"
"I've got no clue what you're talking about."
Tanner sighed and looked to the floor. "I can't help you if you won't admit your troubles, Miles. Anger always has a source – we need find your triggers in order to stop you acting out. Though, you don't seem to be here to work on your anger issues. So, what is the problem?"
"I don't know. I just... I... felt like it. Something doesn't feel right, but I don't know what. It's like my brain's itching, or like I'm being poked behind the eye over and over again. I'm getting itchy and antsy, but it's not a physical thing and I don't know the source. Something like that. It's just.. ugh, it's right under my skin, doc."
"How's Sonic?"
"What exactly are you suggesting, doc?" Miles asked, wary.
"Whenever you come to me with issues, they seem to be related to Sonic, Tails. I just want to-"
"It's Miles."
"-help you. So, how is he?"
"That's a hard question to answer. I haven't seen much of him – he's been given sick leave from work, and we don't exactly go on picnics afterwards, y'know?"
"I understand, but..." Tanner tilted his head quizzically. "Don't you live in the same apartment block?"
"Yeah, but come on – we don't get together every week and watch Ready Steady Cook. I have things to do; I'll be tending to the restaurant, or at work, while he's sat in his living room playing those games or tracking down old newspaper clippings."
"Newspaper clippings?"
"Yeah. From back when we used to be celebrities. Stuff like, 'Super Sonic Saves The Day!' and all that. Kinda pathetic, but we all need a hobby." The fox chuckled. "His just seems to be acting like we're out saving the world as best buds all the time."
"Indeed." There was a long pause. "Miles, have you ever considered why Sonic clings to you the way you describe?"
"No." Miles levelled his gaze at his therapist. "Should I have?"
"Do you not think you're being a little too distant towards him? Trying to disassociate from him too much? As a way of overcompensating for years spent in his shadow? I think," The doctor leant across once again and gave Miles' leg a cheerful pat, "that is the real issue. What do you think?"
"What do I think? What do I... Well, I... y'know, I actually never thought about it like that." Miles grew noticeably more involved; he leaned forward and began to gesture as talked, his voice becoming more excited. "I mean, yeah, Sonic's been like a brother to me; he took me in and gave me a home, took me on adventures. He was like family. But he wasn't just a brother, he was... a big brother. He was always lookin' after me, even when I grew up. How many times have we saved the world too? Like four? Sonic's been the headline hero every time – 'Miles Prower' is practically just a footnote in comparison. We were close back then because I needed that kind of care, but now I don't and... he doesn't get that."
"Oh? How so?"
Miles' brow furrowed as he raised a hand to his chin. "Well, he calls me Tails, like I'm still eight years old. He's always pestering me to go out with him, to some fan convention or grab a pizza after work. Other days, he asks me to go round to his apartment and play video games with him."
"And why don't you play video games with Sonic? That's behaviour more akin to a friend than an overprotective sibling."
"...They're our video games, Doc. The ones we make with SEGA. He wants me to go over and spend the night playing made-up stories where we defeat the bad guys and blow things up. It's childish, and it kinda creeps me out."
"Are you ashamed of him for playing the games?"
"...No. It's just kinda weird to see, is all."
"Why do you think he plays them?"
"Same reason he collects the clippings? I don't know, Doc; I'm not Sonic. Why are we talking about him so much? Aren't I paying you to listen to my problems?"
The psychiatrist's easy smile fell as his face dropped. "Very well," He began, leaning back into his chair, "how's work then, friend?"
"You know, doc, it's been pretty good. I think it's going well – we've got a new guy working on the next game, and it's shaping up to look pretty good. I think the fans might like it. The mocap, even though I was away for some of it, is really kicking off now – I'm even getting my own action scenes!" Miles became more vivid, sitting up from his slouching and growing excited. "And Ivo is just a blast on set. You see, we wear these suits when we record, right, and the animators attach these little white balls to us sometimes to track our movements. When Ivo had his stuck on, he said-"
Holding his hand out for Miles to stop, Tanner interrupted, "I can... imagine. So, 'Ivo' – he's the 'new guy', I assume?"
"Yeah. What about him?"
"You have a lot to say about him. A very large amount, considering he's just a colleague."
Miles squinted. "What are you trying to... Ugh, that's disgusting! No! Just... No!"
Chuckling at the fox's visible shuddering, Tanner continued, "You know what I mean, Miles. You two, to hear you tell it, are becoming fast friends. You're enjoying yourself more with this Ivo than you are with Sonic, a friend with whom you have a long history."
"Yeah, but Ivo ain't trying to take me on some communal nostalgia trip where he's the sole star."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh yeah, you've never seen Sonic act, huh? You should. Out on the mocap stage, he changes. His eyes... glaze over or something, and he gets super into it. He takes the acting thing really serious, and straight after is when he's at his worst trying to be besties with me."
"You think Sonic's using the games to vicariously re-live his past?" Tanner asked, shifting in his seat.
"I. Don't. Know." stated Miles through gritted teeth. He stood and began to leave. "I don't think I can do this, doc. I'm just gonna head off for the night."
"You were booked in for an hour. It's only been 30 minutes, Miles."
Still heading for the door, Miles responded, "And?"
"Well... I'll have to charge you for the full session."
The fox stopped and turned, staring back at his therapist. His fists clenched and his eyes clamped shut. There he stood, digging his fingers into his palms, tensing all of his muscles in a vain attempt to avert the sea of anger washing over him.
After an eternity of his glaring, Miles left the room. As he passed through the reception, he avoided the practised smile of the talking head behind the desk – she wouldn't care to ask if he was OK. And she didn't.
Miles pushed open the double doors and left the building, only to be hit in the face by a wall of cool air. It took him off-guard – it was the height of summer, and this refreshing lack of heat was rare. Stood on the sidewalk, the golden kitsune looked around.
The streets were pretty empty at this time of night; most were either out and getting drunk, or in and getting ready for bed. Either way, it was no surprise there were no cars passing by. It was time for Miles to get home; he began to wa-
brrring-brrring
Miles pulled out his phone.
"Sonic?" Glancing up from the caller ID, a snarl formed on the fox's face. His colleague was probably asking to go get some sushi. Well, not tonight; Miles had put up with too much for now. Bringing the device to his ear, the fox began, "Hello?"
A deep voice, much too dark to be Sonic's, rang back through. "Hello. Is this 'Tails'?"
-A/N- A big ol' thanks to Casey for setting me back on the right path with this one. You're awesome, dude - thanks for the help.