Foreshadowing is real.

It's widely known, if not often acknowledged, that every big change is heralded by a series of smaller changes. Little signs that we never notice until the event passes, and we're left to think about how stupid we were for not knowing what was about to happen, despite the fact that we couldn't have predicted it.

For Tails, by a strange coincidence, that first little sign came the very same morning as the event, when he took off his gloves and saw a small patch of brown fur on the back of each of his hands.

He stared for a moment, half asleep. Those weren't there before. Kicking his mind into gear, he fumbled for an explanation.

After a few moments of slightly flustered sifting through his memories, he remembered that every adult fox he had ever met had possessed a pattern of dark brown or black markings around their hands, feet and face. In fact, he had sometimes thought that his own sunny-orange and white fur stood out compared to them, and wondered why he was different (besides the normal wondering-why-he-was-different, that is).

Clearly, this was the answer. He had recently turned twelve, and Sonic had been (slightly nervously, he thought) joking about how soon he "wouldn't be so little". Apparently, getting these markings was the first sign of fox-kit puberty.

So, as he stepped into the shower feeling vaguely and inexplicably proud of himself, and making a mental note to mention this at some point, he dismissed it from his mind.

Everything was starting to go wrong.

It had started out normal enough – an army of robots was attacking a power plant, Eggman was there giving his usual spiel about taking over the world, and they had to stop him. This kind of thing, Tails had theorised, while blatantly meant to lure them out, probably wasn't actually meant to kill them. It was just supposed to keep them on their toes while Eggman frantically looked for a new plan. You only really had to look out when he hadn't attacked for a few weeks, because that meant he had found one, and was gearing up to attack. He had told Sonic this theory one evening after a particularly easy mission, and he had apparently had similar doubts.

In the end, they had agreed, it didn't make much difference. Even if Eggman was holding back during these fights, it wasn't like they could hold back themselves. These threats may have been little by their standards, but even a single failure could have massive consequences.

All the same, there was a distinct difference in the atmosphere of these fights, when compared to the big stuff. It was more lighthearted, with jokes and quips being constantly thrown around, and childish taunts exchanged between the two sides, as opposed to the full-on threats of a larger conflict.

Maybe that was why.

In truth, Tails didn't care all that much. He, like Eggman, and probably Sonic too, was still processing what had just happened.

Everything had been fine for the first few minutes. He and Sonic had settled into their usual routine. And then Sonic had turned to him to make a joke, momentarily taking his eyes off the battle...

...and a ten-foot heavy-weapons robot had smacked him in the side of the head mid-sentence, sending him crumpling to the ground, stunned, bleeding slightly from his temple.

Eggman was the first to snap out of it. He yelled an indistinct command into his control panel, that Tails couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears, and a small, fast robot leapt onto Sonic. It unfolded into a metal capsule, completely covering the hedgehog and pinning him to the ground before he could get up. A blinking red light appeared on the top, and a beeping noise emitted from the capsule, the universal signs of a bomb.

The rest of the robots turned away and began advancing towards their target. Recovering momentarily from his shock, Tails quickly parsed the strategy. The bomb was a distraction; a way to keep both of them out of the fight for a while. As long as Sonic was stuck under there, Tails would also be stuck defusing it, and Eggman would be free to complete his goal.

It was a simple strategy, as far as manipulation went, but Tails wasn't about to just abandon his brother. He rushed over to the capsule, hearing the muffled sounds of Sonic trying to spindash through the metal. It wasn't working – the space was too cramped to build up momentum. Tails grabbed at the seam of the metal, trying to pull it open.

But he couldn't. It was too small, too compact; the seam was barely visible and his fingers couldn't get purchase. Tails tried all over the machine, even trying to lift it up, but there was nothing.

Nothing. He started to panic. How? How could he have let this happen? This wasn't supposed to – it shouldn't be – it just wasn't possible!

Tails gripped the metal, trying to somehow force the seam apart, but without leverage, he was getting nowhere. The sounds from inside were getting more frantic as the beeping sped up, and he started to scream.

Then, suddenly, there was a horrible feeling of tearing in his fingers, and the seam suddenly began to give. He pulled harder, not stopping to question it, and with a grating yet welcoming crunch, the walls of the capsule finally gave, and a flash of blue lightning flew from the gap.

Tails just barely had the presence of mind to scramble away from the small bomb as it detonated, before collapsing to the ground. He sat there for a while, watching as his elder brother disassembled the robots, now efficiently and without the usual jokes.

As his brain came back online, he started to wonder why exactly he had suddenly managed to gain purchase on the seam, and ran through the last minute in his head.

Then, he registered that feeling of tearing, and looked down at his hands.

There, poking through the torn fingertips of his gloves and glistening slightly in the sunlight, was a set of sharp, black claws.

Sonic returned to find Tails sitting on the ground, still panicking.

He wasn't actually as surprised as he could have been. This fight had been, to put it lightly, kind of messed up. It was a chilling reminder of the danger that they put themselves in on a regular basis, and Sonic fully intended on buying them several ice creams afterwards. Each.

But he seemed a little too freaked out, and as Sonic drew closer, he saw that his younger brother was staring down at his hands. Had he injured himself opening the container?

Sonic crouched beside him, and carefully placed his hand on Tails' shoulder, shaking it slightly. "Hey, buddy?"

Tails started, and looked up at him, eyes wide and pupils reduced to needle-like slits. He instinctively pulled his hands towards himself, concealing his fingertips. At this surprisingly primal expression of fear, Sonic's attitude slipped from vague, general concern into mild elder-sibling panic.

"Hey, are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

Tails looked down and his hands. "I... I don't think so, but..."

He paused for a few seconds, shaking slightly, then slowly opened his hands. Sonic looked down at the deadly-looking hooked claws on his fingers.

"Huh."

"I figured it out!"

Tails looked up from studying at his bare hands like they would give up their secrets if he stared hard enough, as Sonic walked into the living room, confidently brandishing the Miles Electric. "That was quick," he said, tiredly.

Sonic began to read from the screen. "Unlike other clawed species, felines, vulpines, and, uh," he paused and looked more closely at the page "- viverrids do not grow their claws at birth, instead manifesting them around puberty, usually at age 12." He looked at Tails triumphantly. "Looks like it's just a fox thing."

Tails looked at him incredulously. Sonic looked back with his signature invincible smile for a few moments, before his expression suddenly became questioning. "Actually, why didn't you know that?"

Tails tilted his head, confused. "Why should I have?"

"Well, I don't know how to tell you this, bud, but you're a fox."

In the next few seconds, Tails' face went from slightly surprised, to embarrassed, to thoughtful. "Am I, though?"

"What?"

He looked up, eyes gleaming in the way that meant he had just though of something sciency. "A species is defined by its genetics and culture, right? So, if I'm a pretty drastic mutant, and I was raised by a hedgehog, do I really count as a fox?"

It was Sonic's turn to look incredulous. "Well, first off, I don't think me being a hedgehog really mattered all that much."

"You cut my hair to look like quills -"

"It was the only style I knew how to do!"

"- fed me insects -"

"We were homeless! They're a good source of protein!"

"- and when I was little I used to try and hibernate."

"... ok, you may have a point there. But anyway, whether you count as a fox or not, we've still gotta deal with this."

Tails' ears lowered as he looked back at his claws. "True."

"Apparently, they're retractable. So I guess... try that?"

He studied them more closely. They did appear to be set in a kind of dark grey sheath. "Alright..."

Sonic watched as Tails thought for a moment, then carefully placed his thumb on a claw and gently pushed on it, feeling the back of his hand with his fingers as he did so, being careful not to accidentally cut himself. He felt a thin, barely perceptible muscle move as he did so, and, locating it mentally, tensed it. Instantly, the claws snapped back into his fingers.

Sonic looked at his brother, grinning. "See? Knew you could do it." Tails raised his other hand and repeated the process. He flexed his fingers and snapped his claws in and out a few times, getting a feel for it, before looking up at Sonic, smiling.

"Alright, I think I can work with this."

"What do you mean, it wasn't good enough?"

"Exactly what I said, Mr Hedgehog."

Tails was standing in the corner, anger slowly rising. It had been two days since the incident at the power plant, and now a smug-looking man in an annoyingly nice suit had shown up and was apparently trying to blame them for it.

Sometimes, Tails wondered why they bothered.

"Look, man, I don't know if you noticed, but I was stuck in a friggin' bomb for most of that. If your plant got messed up, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I could have done."

The man sniffed in an infuriating manner. "I couldn't help but notice, Mr Hedgehog, that you've never been trapped in a bomb before."

Sonic narrowed his eyes. "I messed up a bit. So what?"

"My point, Mr Hedgehog, is that you appear to be neglecting your duty towards the citizens of Mobius. My clients have observed that, below a certain threshold of threat, your efficiency appears to drastically lower."

Tails nearly growled. Sonic didn't look much more composed. It wasn't just the unbearable self-righteousness of the claim. It was the fact that, deep down, below all the fancy legal language, in a way, it was right.

"We are willing to overlook this as a first offence, but if this behaviour continues, we will be forced to file a class-action-"

"That's enough!"

Both of them turned to Tails. "Are you seriously blaming Sonic for what happened?", he shouted, surprising both Sonic and himself.

"M-Mr Prower, I can assure you that -"

"Quit trying to pin this on him! He risked his life for your stupid power plant, and this is how you react?" Tails was full-on yelling already, and Sonic reached out towards him. "Tails..."

"What if he had died in there? Would you try and blame that on him, too?"

"Tails!"

In an attempt to calm him, Sonic grabbed his hand, and suddenly flinched, letting out a pained yelp. Tails snapped out of his anger, looking at their hands in shock.

At some point in his rant, without him even noticing, his claws had slipped out, and now five of them were embedded in Sonic's hand. A few droplets of blood stained his glove.

Tails carefully extracted the claws, painfully aware of Sonic's flinch, and leaned back against the wall. He slid down into a crouch, staring at his bloodstained claws and breathing quickly. He was vaguely aware of Sonic yelling something at the suited man, and a door slamming.

Sonic crouched down in front of him. He gently took his bloodied hand, and carefully pulled it up, studying it.

"Alright. We can fix this."

If Tails had a bedtime, chances were that now would be past it.

Sonic, in all fairness also awake, poked his head around the slightly ajar workshop door to see Tails sitting at his desk. This was fairly normal; even at the best of times, Tails' sleep patterns weren't the healthiest, with plenty of all-nighters (sometimes accidentally), and regular naps.

But this time, he didn't seem to be working on anything. Sonic stepped into the room, and saw that he was absent-mindedly fidgeting with his new claw-protective gloves.

He approached the fox's chair. "Hey Tails, c'mon. It's getting late."

Tails stopped twiddling the plastic-reinforced fingertip, and glanced at him, humming tiredly in agreement. He looked down at his brother's bandaged hand, and his expression fell from tired to saddened. "Are you doing okay?"

"S'fine, bro. Let's get you to bed."

Tails got up, but then looked at his feet, ears drooping. "I'm really sorry, Sonic."

Sonic sighed. "Tails, bud, you don't need to keep apologising. It was an accident, that's all." Tails didn't look convinced. "Don't beat yourself up over something that wasn't your fault."

"I – I know, but..." Tails looked away suddenly, hiding his face from Sonic.

"What?" Sonic crouched, making himself level with Tails, concerned.

Tails touched the plastic again, looking unsettled. "What if it happens again? What if I make more mistakes and... " He choked slightly, suddenly seeming on the verge of tears. "... and I... keep hurting people?"

Shocked at this sudden outburst, Sonic placed a reassuring hand on his younger brother's head. "Hey, hey! It's alright, Tails! That's what we got these things for, remember?" He gestured to the protective gloves. "And anyway, you'll learn to control them soon, right? Then it'll just be one more thing that makes you cool!"

Tails leaned into the headpats, sniffling. "It's..."

"What?"

"Scary." Tails slumped a bit, seemingly relieved, and Sonic put his other arm around him. "I mean, two days ago I had no idea fox claws were even a thing, and now..."

He returned the hug, snuggling a bit closer to his elder brother. Sonic stood there for a while, thinking.

"You know...", he began, and Tails looked up. "When I was little, and my quills were growing in, I used to tear apart my blankets."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. All the time. I think my first memories are of my parents replacing them."

Tails chuckled. "Doesn't sound much like you."

"Well, that's my point, bud. Everything takes some getting used to. Sometimes, even if it's scary, you've just gotta find a way to deal with it. You're a strong kid, I know you'll be able to deal with this." He pulled back, smiling at him. "And I'll always be here to help, okay?"

Tails smiled back. "I'm still sorry."

"Ah, don't worry about it. I've had worse."

Tails extracted himself from Sonic's grasp, and began to walk upstairs, with his brother following. Outside his room, he paused, and looked back. "Sonic?"

"Yeah, bro?"

Tails thought about it for a moment. "They are pretty cool, aren't they?"

"Absolutely."

A/N This is my longest story yet. Thank you to the r/milesprower discord for helping me with it, and to everyone who's reviewed my stories for giving me the motivation to work on this. I'm going to try and make my updates more regular, fingers crossed. Until then, hope you liked this bit of angsty fluff!

Also, the cover was made by the amazingly talented IndigoBeatss. Check them out on Twitter, they're great.