Disclaimer: I don't know how to say it nicely enough, but, here I go; these characters are not, I repeat not mine, they go to their respective owners. Only the story. That's all. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, when I tried to upload my previous version, it got messed up on the site and my file corrupted so, yeah, sucks. Anyway, still having a hard time trying to come up with periods of time to post a new chapter.

Now, Miles liked meat, like, really liked meat and it didn't mean he would go after everything meat-as in the metaphorical term that referred to women- and when he opened the door that late at night, dressed only in a white-beater (as he didn't like to call them wife-beaters) and some pairs of sweatpants that Sonic had already left in the room. In a slightly buzzed and tired stupor-he almost considered becoming a vegetarian-for lo' and behold stood Wave in a dress shirt that just barely passed her thighs. She looked up at him with big eyes and a sultry smile. It didn't look like she was comfortable. In other news, she wasn't wearing any pants. 'Damn those dress shirts' was his mental response to her attire. "Hello?" He must had been too absorbed into his own thoughts to realize her previous question. He accidentally started to drift back to his thoughts, while yes, Miles was a soldier, which caused him to have excellent discipline, it didn't mean he had an unbreakable spirit. She was crumbling away at his resolve.

She wanted a long night full of passion, and he was just the man to do it. Not tonight, however, and not ever. Not with her. She was an enemy, and he inwardly groaned as he remembered what Sonic said, but no, she was the enemy and she was going to use him-no. Voices piled in his head-Enemy. They were meant to die. Enemy. Kill. Make them suffer. Die. Just stab it! Die. Rip open that tight little neck. Die. One snap is all it takes! Die. Shoot her. Die. She's a liar, they all were! They were so-SO LOUD. He had to get a grip! He was losing it. On the outside, he was frozen, as his mind was being taken over manually. Taken over by the rage. "Let me in already! It's freezing out here!"

Her pouting tone was exactly what he needed to come back to his senses. The fox stepped away for the girl to get inside where it was much more humid than the ruthless cold of the hallway. He gave her an apologetic smile as he let her in, she weirdly-giggled a few times, gesturing to his living space, which was quite comfy. He would have given her a tour too, if it wasn't for the fact that she was only interested in one room of his living quarters, and it didn't take her long either, her precarious swaying had accidentally led her to his room. She immediately crawled into his bed where the covers lay in a disarrayed form from his previous motions of answering the door, she was snuggling the covers up to her chest, breathing in his scent. She looked up at him with her big eyes again.

The image of her lying there in his covers reminded of a more morbid image, as he remembered the bodies that were piled up by hand into a fire pit and burned, and the memory became a reality when suddenly his room burst into flames and Wave was turned into another of the lifeless corpses. Their hands moved slowly towards him, hell-bent on making him suffer the same fate. But he immediately turned to the door, not caring that the entire thing was on fire as he busted through the door with his shoulder as the hands moved to encompass him in a sludge-like mass of flesh. He took a right, to his bathroom, to find that his whole apartment was on fire, with flesh and limbs leaking through the cracks. His adrenaline skyrocketed and his fear kicked in, telling him to move faster, faster than before. He jumped and leaped through the small areas not covered in the mess, hopping, rolling, and maneuvering wherever, whenever he could. He groaned though as stray flames brushed his head and face, scalding him to a few minor burns, hurting him like hell nonetheless.

He eventually reached his goal, however, as the destination the fox sought was his bathroom. His pills were there and he cursed at himself for missing a dose, these nightmares he had were deadly, they could kill him, just like in real life. So he had to be more punctual with the doses he had, these weird episodes he were having could kill him and others. His eyes widened as he remembered that Wave was with him at the moment, watching him do ridiculous things around his apartment.

That thought alone embarrassed him and he tried to think up an excuse, but couldn't find one that would explain him jumping around like an idiot. Wait though, what if he wasn't just moving to the bathroom? What if he was attacking someone else? That would mean-no, he didn't like the girl in his apartment at the moment, but-but what would it mean if he killed her? Was it his fault? Yes, it was, no matter what he did, it was always blame it on Tails. It had been that way since he was a little kid, he would always try and take the blame because he hated the conflict. Although one day they figured his little compulsion. He needed to have an intervention, it didn't work however, much to boy in blue's disappointment. In any case, he would kill her. So he picked up the bottle, read the prescribed amount and popped them in his mouth, kicking the door closed sideways as he extended his leg, the fire was getting worse and the flesh-goop was becoming a liquid. Fear gripped him. He didn't like the image it was burning in his mind. It reminded him of those days. When everything was barbaric with no rules. When he was a mess of blood, bullets, and flesh.

His heart rate calmed down slowly, but surely. He gave an audible sigh.

It's not your fault.

What? What did he just hear?

It's not your fault, you can't keep blaming yourself.

"No." Miles gave a quieted grunt as he put his hands to his head.

You didn't mean to. You weren't in control.

Tail's eyes had burned up from the memories. Memories of his friends in the military.

"Shut up." He growled as his pupils shrank in size. He didn't want to relive that day.

He couldn't go back to that day. No. NO! They weren't going to make him! He wasn't to blame! It was their fault. Their fault. All of theirs.

No. That wasn't right. It was his fault. He killed his friends. Ripped them limb from limb. The sick crunch of bone and the wet sound of ripping flesh, muscle, and tissue. He left the blood painted everywhere. When other soldier had found him, he was covered in blood as he held the two faces of his friends, ripped from their skulls. He had a panicked expression locked on his face, staring away at something unknown as he rocked himself slowly.

Oh god. The screams haunted him. The screams his teammates left him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to. Please stop. Don't make me remember. I'm so lonely. Nobody understands. I have no one. They can't know. Nobody must know." He rambled for quite some time. Pleading to some unknown deity to save him from his nightmares as his body shook with cries of sorrow and rapid breaths full of sobs. Nobody would save him except for himself. His body shook with the regret for actions he couldn't control, but blamed himself for, nonetheless.

He didn't even notice that the delusion was gone, suffering from his own psychological trauma.

Miles passed out sometime between crying softly and ripping his hair out, he honestly can't remember which came first.

…After an undetermined amount of time

Tails had woken to some silent cursing emanating from his living quarters, it would appear that Wave had woken moments before in a room she did not recognize. She began silently muttering threats of what she'd do to the guy that had apparently 'gotten lucky' and was going to have his 'luck' end up in a shitter. Tail's groggy vision and exhausted mind only let him hear in small pieces. But he got up anyway, stretching when he was sure his vision wouldn't black out and his mind wasn't going to cave in on itself. His body hurt from the crooked position he had laid himself in the bathroom.

As he slowly walked out of his bathroom and into his room, he had found Wave struggling to find proper clothing, throwing all the white-beaters out of the drawer and onto the bed in a messy stack. She continued cursing while she shifted through the large dresser. He lightly rapped his knuckles on his own door, more so to get her attention than his own, though it did revitalize some of his focus.

She turned to him and stood as still as a chalkboard, just staring. She however, gained a straight face and sent him a pointed glare, which sent him recoiling a bit. What did he do wrong? Surely she didn't think that he had taken advantage of her in her drunken stupor. Did she? Whatever the case may be, he had to set things straight before anything could go wrong.

As she had approached him, she jabbed a finger in his chest several times. So he decided to open his mouth before assumptions could be made in acknowledgment to the night prior.

"Hey listen,-" but was stopped short due to her own ramblings, "I hope you know-Do you have any idea? And after all I went through-What is wrong with you?" And that's when he lost his will to speak, being reprimanded for things she didn't care to specify.

"Wave." But she continued on, completely unfazed "I hope you know that this is unfair!"

But he had enough, so he had to call her loud enough to catch her attention. "Wave-ugh-would you listen?" but she would have none of it, "Wave! Here-Jus-Would you let m-Please-SHUT UP!" She jumped, obviously unaware of her tantrum or of the fact that he just stood in place.

Ironically enough, after her little tirade, she was left completely out of air.

"Okay, now listen, I swear to you that I didn't-" He had tried, unsuccessfully.

"That's not the reason I'm upset." She had stated it as though it were obvious.

"Then what is it?" He pressed, wanting to put an end to this one-sided problem.

"You said some nasty shit when you left Tails." Wait, what? What? He didn't do anything wrong before he left, all he did was-well, he couldn't remember it now that he mentioned it.

"No I didn't." He shot back rather poorly. Clinging on to the fact that he was an all-round good person. Minus his rather angry-tendencies, but that was putting it nicely.

But then she said something that made him freeze. Something that didn't click and everything was wrong and nothing fit anymore a-oh, why hello floor-something's thrashing and he thinks it's his body, but that wouldn't make any sense because he was just talking to someone.

His vision goes from black to blurry to why the fuck can't I see clearly? She had triggered him somehow, he isn't sure what she said. His mind hurt from the needles.

NO! He doesn't want his medicine. He's a big boy and big boys kill people. There's the delusions of his friends who watch him from above a bright light. He wants to reach out to them and drag them to hell where they belong.

Wait, what was that? That's when he realized the sound of a thud, clearly something heavy had fallen-and oh there's ringing everywhere! Making everything so magnificently harder to hear and making his display on the world fuzzy.

The last thing he sees before he blacks out completely is the silhouette of his father.