Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, they belong to their respective owners. Note: This story is rated M for a reason. I only own the plot. If you couldn't guess, it's a slightly darker AU.
There was yelling. Lots of it. He could only hold his helmet to try to block out the noises. He was huddled up at the corner of a semi-destroyed building. By the sounds of the screaming, they were losing. This wasn't supposed to be happening. But then, nothing ever was, he mused. A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He looks around and notices things that were flying through the air from explosions, things that looked like they belonged to people. He then checks off the things in the air. An arm. Intestines. Two legs. An article of clothing. Blood. So much blood. He starts to rock himself back and forth. The sergeant that was barking the orders just stops mid-sentence and drops dead in front of Tails. As the sergeant falls, once his head hit the ground, his cap flew away and revealed the culprit to his demise. A bullet in the middle of his head. This was too much-too mu-he started vomiting right in front of his boots.
He heard foreign yelling behind him. His body was shaking, his instincts were starting to remind him that he was in a warzone with enemies right behind him. The edges of Tails' vision darkens considerably. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' The boy cursed in his head, he had to act now! Right NOW! He was going to die if he didn't! What could he do? Maybe he should just wait to die. Yeah, he would wait. And as Miles finished that thought, he closed his eyes- only for a second as he opened them once again. He felt so-so powerful, something he would modestly argue that he hadn't felt for most of his life. He immediately got up to his feet, taking his time to brush the dust off his clothes caused from earlier explosions. It was as if he didn't care that he was in the middle of a crossfire, that he had all the time in the world. He leisurely walked over to a similar cowering soldier.
The soldier, whose name was Petey, had stopped his cowering for a second to witness the standing soldier. His pupils had immediately shrunk to the size of rice grains as he saw a kid standing over him with an impossibly sized smile. It was creeping the hell out of him. The boy immediately held out his hands, as if expecting a gift. The man looked at the gun that was currently being cradled in his arms. He looked up again, and the boy nodded. "Wha-What 'appened to yur's?" The man questioned, the boy in question just nodded his head in the direction of the street, still live with bullets, where his gun lay, and the sergeant was lying atop his own. The man hesitantly handed it over to the teen, who was too stricken with fear to rationalize the idea of giving a kid his weapon. The boy holstered it, by the sling, but still held his arms out. The boy, slightly frustrated with the delay, pointed to his knife and grenade. The man once again handed them over and watched as the boy made to leave, pocketing the extra knife and taking his own grenade out as well, dual-wielding them.
He slowly stepped out into the open as the commotion seemed to die down as everyone was reloading. Immediately other soldiers who recognized him tried ordering him back-"Prower! Get the FUCK back here! Hurry!" His squad leader had yelled, but he simply looked back at her, his grin gone for the moment, "But I'm gonna' finish the fight, ma'am." And with that, his malicious grin was back, making some other soldiers cower. He looked back at the insurgents, as his blood-lusty grin was shown to his enemies, everyone stared in shock, but soon one of the insurgents shot at him, nicking his cheek. He laughed maniacally as he started running towards them as they started firing. Bullets riveted his body, in his legs, arms, and torso, making him look like a walking pincushion.
As soon as he got close, he released the pin on both of them, earning a cling, as he chucked one of them first, right at the enemies hiding in the building to his right, nailing the window. His arm screamed in agony as he forced it to move, it protested as he used all the raw power he could muster into the pitch. He threw the one to his left at the doorway, both earning him screams. This one hurt less, only because his left shoulder was unscathed from bullets, his right one...well, you get the idea. Explosions rocked both his sides and blood, accompanied by the rare appendage, flew at him. One of the enemies charged out from the building as he reached for one of his knives, aiming true, he had hit the man in his torso, most likely puncturing his lung. Others flooded out the building, but he was faster than that, hoisting the rifle into his arms and firing at each and every one of them, making the red liquid drench everything around them. He immediately turned around and took a knee, firing with more accuracy. His nerves were on fire, but he howled with delight, the pain exhilarated his senses, and made his adrenaline sky rocket. He sprayed each one of them with bullets. He reloaded several times throughout the ideal, around 3 times.
The noise had died down after he shot all of them down. Bullets and mags puddled his feet. He dropped the gun and stood there. His smile was gone as he adorned a more serious look, his eyes downcast at the ground. Suddenly his left ear twitched and he immediately grabbed his other knife from it's sheath, running at the building to his left as he let out a war cry. He noticed the man on the ground and curb stomped the bastard with the help of his heavy military boots. Watching with absolute glee as the soldier under him had his head caved in with a sick squelsh.
Tails looked at another militant as he charged him with the butt of his gun, smacking it upon his head, the pain was intense, he needed a moment. So he fell to his knees as the man approached him, he went to hit him again, forcing hi-or not. Miles' arms grabbed the gun as his eyes locked with the man's, blood dripped from his temple "Wearing a helmet, asshole." Tails charged the insurgent as they both fought over the gun, shuffling around the area together, Miles was noticeably weaker, as the man was about to take charge of the-or not as Tails had used one arm to sneakily snake his arm to the pistol the man had, he struck at just the right time too, when the gun moved closely to the militia's shoulder in the tug of war, he was able to grab the sidearm without getting noticed. Miles pushed the pistol snugly against the broad chest of the guy he was fighting with and let off a couple rounds, 'Blam Blam Blam Blam'. The bullets forced themselves into his chest cavity. And with a 'thump', he was dead.
He walked over to a door and dragged the last remaining soldier, he had sensed hiding, out into the open and out the door. Tails looked to all the soldiers staring at him and laughed, quite loudly too, as he made his way over. The insurgent protested with cries and pleas, but he didn't hear him at all. His smile was no longer there as he had fell to his knees, clutching his head in pain, and vomited. He was confused, what happened? He looked at the man trying to crawl away behind him as Tails got to his feet, and when he looked beyond the man, gore covered the ground everywhere. When he said 'everywhere', he literally meant 'everywhere', the houses were destroyed, some of it on fire. Blood littered everything, except a few areas of the dirt and cement ground that had been spared. 'My whole team annihilated those guys, what did they use? Did backup finally arrive or was it an air strike?' Still horrified, Prower looked to the other soldiers who were just staring at him, shocked and nervous glances. He looked down to his hands, which were soaked, marinated, drenched, and any other word that basically meant that his hands were covered in the stuff. When Miles looked at his hands, his arms immediately hurt, and he could see why, bullets riddled his body, a few in his chest, most likely nonlethal, and in his arms and legs. Tails started shaking as he went into shock and hit the ground. As his eyes went dark, he heard a fellow soldier scream for a medic. (A/N: Note that I just wanted to get a portion of Tails' dark past with the military out somehow, also note I wont do A/N very much, only if crucial.)
Tails woke with a start. He jumped as if he was being electrocuted with something well, electrical. He groaned as he got up. Images from the other night flushed through his head at an uncomfortable rate. He held his hand to his hand as he tried to sift through them. Oh yeah, Sonic had been contacted of Tails' arrival by the military as he made his way home. Sonic had showed up with knuckles and shadow. They all awkwardly said hello after the whole knife-to-your-throat thing. Tails had explained that it was only a reflex he had been taught, which wasn't completing lying. After a few worried glances, they all decided to drink. When questioned on his own drinking and smoking, he had explained it was for his comrades. Not completely a lie, either. But that was another story. They all drank and had a good time. Well shadow didn't look completely convinced. But that guy was always hard to read.
So after a brief moment of sifting through his memories, he got to a stand, he immediately regretted it however, as the orange sun had pierced through his eyes, which in turn hurt his head. like hell. So he looked to an offending open blind and went to close it, after he did, he gave himself some time to recover form the pain in his head. After that was done, he went to shrug off his undershirt and decided to walk around shirtless for a bit. He went over to his flask placed precariously on the edge of his work bench. As he shuffled his way to it, he decided to look at the time, in which it read 5:45 PM. Ah shit. Sonic told him last night that he needed him to show up at a certain address for a special occasion. He needed to be there at 7:00. Which sucked for him because he would need new clothes and all he had was his military outfit, when something Sonic had said to him came up, "Hey, Tails, when you show up, wear your military outfit, you know, to make the others think that you just came back. 'Kay?" "Perfect. Well, better get to it, then, I guess." He said as he made his journey to his flask. As he inspected it, he realized that a third of the stuff was in there. he shrugged and made his way to the bathroom, getting some pills that would make the pain go away. As he downed the pills with the flask he carried, he made sure to brush his teeth and take a shower, cleaning his uniform as well. With half-an-hour to make it there. "Well, guys, here I come. I'm coming home."