Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Happy birthday, little bro!” Sonic exclaimed with a bright grin, a mint chocolate cake wobbling in his hands. The scent of frosting and sugar drifted into the room before Tails could even blink awake.

He stirred under the soft blankets, sunlight slipping through the curtains like golden threads. The beams brushed across his fur, catching in his twin tails as he rubbed at his sleepy ocean-blue eyes.

“...Okay?” he mumbled, voice caught between confusion and a yawn. He blinked at the cake. Candles unlit, icing glistening, as though it were some strange relic from a culture he’d never studied. Birthdays still felt like an ancient, foreign language. One he’d never quite learned to speak.

Sonic’s ears drooped a little. The cake lowered too, landing on the wooden bedside table with a careful thud. It was always like this — awkward pauses, polite smiles, the quiet echo of party balloons waiting to be popped. But even after years of that same silence, Sonic refused to give up. He’d never give up on his little brother. Not until the end of time.

Tails pushed himself up, fur still tousled from sleep. His voice came soft, puzzled. “You know, you didn’t have to make a big deal out of it, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sonic chuckled, though the laugh didn’t reach his eyes at first. “Because I care about you, dummy.” He reached over, ruffling the fox’s bangs with a fond grin before zipping toward the door. The scent of something sweet; warm syrup, maybe cinnamon, wafted in as he opened it.

“And I made you breakfast!” he announced, peeking back with a wink. “Stacked pancakes with extra maple syrup and love.”

Tails sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a forced grin. “Of course. Thank you.” His voice softened, careful. “But after breakfast, I need to finish up an invention. Something I’ve been working on.”

“Bu—” Sonic started, but Tails was already tugging on his gloves, his two fluffy tails flicking nervously.

“See you later!” he said too quickly, hugging his brother for a brief, fleeting second before rushing past. The wind of his movement rustled the curtains. The door creaked, then clicked shut behind him.

Sonic stood there, still holding the smell of syrup and sugar and silence.

He exhaled, the smile fading to something gentler.

“This,” he muttered to himself, “is gonna be a long day.”

Sonic’s footsteps faded down the hall, echoing beneath the hum of circuits and the soft clicks of tools. The kind of silence Tails trusted more than most. The silence that belonged in his workshop.

Adjusting his goggles, thoughts of the birthday cake lingered in his mind, though he tried desperately to push them away. He needed to distract himself from reality. Tighten a bolt. Clean a wrench. Make something out of his own two hands. Something useful. Something brilliant.

But that was just it, wasn’t it? Fixing things, but never fixing himself. Never dealing with his own broken parts. Birthdays weren’t the problem. He was the problem.

Dust lifted into the air as he dropped his wrench onto the worktable, the sound sharp before it softened. Slowly, he sank to the floor and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Breathe, breathe. Just like Sonic taught me. In, hold, out. Repeat,” he whispered, a single salty tear tracing down his cheek. Memories spilled out of his eyes, memories of birthdays that felt more like funerals for joy. Surprises made of loneliness. Haunted ghosts wrapped neatly in shiny boxes, handled with careful hands by people who never cared.

Freak.

The bitter taste of starvation circled in his mouth — not for cake, not for sweetness. Just for anything else. Anything that could fill the ache inside him, comfort the noise that gnawed at his mind. There was plenty of food now, so why did hunger still clutch him tight? Why did it still eat him alive?

Freak.

Corrupted words filled his lungs. His breaths turned shallow, trembling, as he tried to steady the boat in a storm. Waves crashed, against him, through him, dragging him beneath the floorboards of despair. Shouts drowned out the world. No cheers, no candles.

Freak.

Freezing nights. Lightning splitting the dark skies. He could still feel the shivers racing down his spine as he hid in the bushes, afraid of footsteps in the rain. The thunder screamed. The clouds cried. And the world didn’t know how special today was supposed to be. He was running — always running — toward someplace better, or maybe toward heaven itself. So young. So alone.

“Tails?”

The memory slammed back, his body jerking like he’d been thrown against the wall again. Blood, laughter, pain. The bullies, their sneers carved into his memory. The knife flashing in their hands, the way they gripped his wrist too tight, trying to mold him into their idea of perfect. Was that supposed to be his present?

“Tails,” a voice broke through the storm. “It’s just me. Your big brother. Can you breathe for me?”

Fluttering his eyes open and lifting his head, he saw him. Sonic. Oh mints — he was supposed to slow his breathing, not make it worse. Yet what he saw wasn’t anger. It was kindness. Understanding.

Gently, his big brother took both of his hands and began to breathe with him, overdramatic and slow, matching the rhythm. “In… hold… out. Remember, when you were little? In… hold… out.”

It wasn’t easy. Memories and feelings from the past never really leave. They cling to you, bite at your neck, try to strangle the life from your chest. But Sonic — Sonic would do whatever it took to slay his little brother’s demons.

“In with the thoughts,” the blue blur murmured softly. “Hold it. Feel it. Then let it out. Let it go.”

His hands rose and fell in rhythm, still holding the kit’s trembling fingers for comfort.

Tails nodded slowly, taking a deep breath in, holding it with care, before letting it out. Shaky, light, but his own kind of breathing. “That’s it! I know you can do this!” Sonic reassured him, scooching closer, still acting out the breaths beside him.

Tails smiled a little. A small, gentle smile. Not alone. Not this time.

Was he ever truly alone, even when Sonic wasn’t there?

Calmness washed over him slowly. The two brothers sat in silence. The kind of silence Tails trusted more than most. The silence that belonged only to Sonic.

Rubbing his cheek, Sonic’s face was etched with concern and care. “What was all that about?” he asked gently, careful not to push. That was the last thing he wanted to do — especially with his stubborn little brother.

“What about?”

Sonic frowned, sighing softly. He reached out again, offering more affection than words. Grounding touches, steady warmth. It reminded him of when Tails was just a kit, clinging to his leg, eyes wide with hope. He couldn’t blame him for holding on. Not after everything.

“You’ve always been like this,” Sonic began, glancing toward the sunlight spilling through the workshop windows. “Not liking birthdays. I know they’re not your thing but… I mean…”

The words tripped over his tongue, heavy with emotion he couldn’t quite shape. It just felt sad. Really sad.

Tails looked up at him. Really looked. The grimness in Sonic’s face, the way his ears drooped. He reached out, stroking his brother’s arm gently. “I never liked birthdays for a reason, Sonic,” he whispered. “And it isn’t your fault.”

“Then tell me,” Sonic urged softly, clutching both of Tails’ arms, meeting his eyes — not with anger, but worry. “What is it?”

Glancing at the floor, the little kit felt small again. His voice trembled with caution, uncertain how his brother would react. “It’s just that… birthdays are reminders. A, um… a reminder of who I was back then.”

“Who you were back then?” Sonic tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face.

A sigh slipped from Tails’ lungs as he whispered the name he’d longed to bury. “Miles Prower.”

Sonic nodded softly, humming in thought. Miles Prower. That name carried ghosts; a boy without a home, without a family. But Tails had both. A home. A family. A brother. He always separated the two names as if they belonged to different people. One admired, the other left to rot in the corners of forgotten memories.

His lip quivered as he hugged himself tighter, voice trembling like a fading light. “I wish birthdays didn’t exist. That way… nobody would remember me long enough to hurt me.”

He expected anger, or the sound of footsteps leaving the room. Maybe a disgusted glance. Instead, Sonic wrapped his arms around him. A hug; warm, steady, full of quiet love. For the first time in a while, Tails could breathe.

Rocking gently, Sonic murmured, “The sixteenth of October is my favorite day of the year.”

“Because it’s my birthday?” Tails asked, peeking up through watery eyes.

“Yes, but…” Sonic smiled softly, turning to face him. “Your birthdays mean something to me.” His voice cracked slightly, a tear catching the corner of his eye. “It’s the day the world got a little brighter — the day you showed up.”

That made Tails look up, really look. He reached out to wipe the tear, but Sonic shook his head and kept speaking, voice thick with emotion.

“I’m not great with all this emotional stuff,” he admitted, laughing weakly through the ache. “And you don’t have to like birthdays. But I’m so glad you were born, little bro. That you exist. That you came into my life.”

Tears fell freely then. The two brothers held each other close, wrapped in a silence too full to break. A love born not of blood, but of choice. An unbreakable bond.

After a long moment, Sonic whispered against his ear, his grin returning. “Plus… I’ve got a surprise for you tonight. One you’ll definitely like.”

“If it’s a party, I will—”

Sonic cut him off with a proud grin. “Nope. Way better than that. Something you always loved as a kid. You’ll see.”

The day bled into night as Tails fumbled onto the grass, blindfolded. His guide was his big brother. “Sonic, I hope this surprise is good,” the fox murmured, the soft breeze brushing over his yellow-orange fur.

“For the last time, Tails, it is going to be good!” Sonic called out playfully, before ripping the blindfold from his eyes. The Tornado sat there, still red, still intact, unchanged. On the grass in their backyard, beside the workshop. Nothing new.

Tails tilted his head, whispering, “What?” He didn’t understand, until Sonic settled into the driver’s seat with that familiar confident grin. “Whatcha doing?” the fox asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

“It’s not what we’re doing,” Sonic replied gently, opening the passenger door, “but where we’re going.”

Tails jumped in and buckled the seatbelt, legs swinging up and down, excitement bubbling over. He just needed to know. “Where are we going then?”

“To the stars!” Sonic declared.

“Wait… to the stars!?”

The plane lifted into the night, slicing through clouds, carrying them higher and higher. Tails’ tails swayed wildly in the wind, his grin uncontainable. It felt like a dream come true.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard his younger self — bright, bubbly, shouting from logs in memory: “The stars! The stars are my favorite thing in the world!”

The Tornado slowed, drifting gently among the heavens. Sonic climbed onto the wing, standing tall and proud. “This is it,” he said, eyes shining. “How do you like it, bud?”

Tails stood on his seat, smiling softly. A smile that made Sonic’s heart swell. “It’s… it’s beautiful, Sonic,” he whispered, reaching out to touch a star close enough to almost feel its glow. A star filled with moondust and love.

“Well, next year,” Sonic added with a grin, “we’re doing Mars.”

Tails leaned his head onto Sonic’s shoulder, both of them watching the cosmos shimmer in endless darkness.

For the first time in years, Tails thought, my birthday didn’t hurt.